Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Black Eye, Gigs
Fox19: TT Reviews ‘Venom: Let There Be Carnage’
01 Friday Oct 2021
01 Friday Oct 2021
Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Black Eye, Gigs
05 Friday Oct 2018
Is the fourth time the charm for ‘A Star is Born’ and/or will Tom Hardy’s ‘Venom’ infect us?
Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Gigs
19 Wednesday Jul 2017
PHOTO: COURTESY OF WARNER BROS. PICTURES
When Winston Churchill addressed the government and, by extension, the citizens of England after the evacuation of Dunkirk, France in the early days of World War II, he spoke of how this mounting war provided unheralded opportunities for youth. British and allied forces had to hurriedly retreat across the English Channel in the face of the militarily superior Nazis. The Royal Navy organized a desperate effort to bring them back to safety.
Churchill knew Britain still faced great risks and losses ahead. To his mind, this was not a mythic clash from the days of old involving the Knights of the Round Table or the Crusaders. Instead, this was a fight undertaken by young men who deserved respect. As he told the House of Commons in 1940, his first two sentences a paraphrase from the poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson:
“ ‘Every morn brought forth a noble chance. And every chance brought forth a noble knight.’ They deserve our gratitude, as do all the brave men who, in so many ways and on so many occasions, are ready, and continue ready to give life and all for their native land.”
And now is a chance, noble and fine, for us to rediscover the inspirational power of the story of Dunkirk. It’s a time to honor those who were brave in retreat so they might fight again. That is what the British-born Christopher Nolan, who has become one of America’s best-known directors as a result of Inception, The Dark Knight, Batman Begins, Memento and more, does with his typical immersive genius in Dunkirk. He dispenses with the narrative architecture we’ve come to expect from war films. He foregoes backstories and training sequences employed to familiarize us with a select group of soldiers preparing for the heat of battle. We know nothing of their love lives, their families or their hopes and dreams for life after the war. There is only “the now.”
But, of course, this is still a Nolan film, so he tinkers with the structure to grant us access to three distinct perspectives all rendered within a different time frame. The action unfolds over the course of a week (for the troops on the ground), a day (for one of the cruising yachts speeding off to assist in the evacuation) and a single hour (for a trio of aerial fighters dispatched to provide cover). It is only in the final moments of the film that we begin to appreciate the precise period of time when these fragments overlap.
Dunkirk strips away all superfluous elements, leaving us with tension and desperation. We are stranded on the beach among the hundreds of thousands of soldiers bravely waiting to escape, and then running and ducking for cover as the Germans spray them with fire from land and air. Nolan places us in the company of Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), a young lad constantly attempting to stay one step ahead of the next perilous assault. Then we join Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Collins (Jack Lowden) and young George (Barry Keoghan) as they race off in their yacht to do their part. Finally, we settle into the cockpit with Farrier (Tom Hardy), an ace pilot with a busted fuel gauge trying hard to defend his countrymen.
Are there arcs for any of these characters? Nolan proves it doesn’t matter in the slightest. What matters is that we see people doing what is necessary in the darkest of moments.
But if audiences find themselves longing for a hero, then I would argue that Farrier earns the appellation best, because Hardy expands upon his singular performance in Locke, where he dominated the screen from behind the wheel of a car, speaking rapid-fire into his cellphone. Here, constrained even further by the tiny cockpit of his plane, with dwindling fuel and the monumental task of being the last pilot standing between his troops and a torrential rain of German bombs, Hardy never raises his voice or strains to show any emotion; he simply does his duty.
Nolan, it could be argued, sets the standard from the top with his approach. Dunkirk is a stunning cinematic achievement, skillfully and exactingly deploying music and sound to heighten drama, capitalizing on every inch of the large screen to document the looming horror and growing desperation. The noblest feat of all from Nolan is the appreciation he leaves us with — that even this horrific moment will pass and we will be better for having survived it. (Opens wide Friday.) (PG-13) Grade: A
Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Black Eye, CityBeat Archives
10 Wednesday Sep 2014
In adapting his own short story (“Animal Rescue”), screenwriter and novelist Dennis Lehane (Gone Baby Gone and Shutter Island) shifts the action from the mean streets of Boston to pre-hipster Brooklyn, N.Y., recalling the glory days of underworld rule. But there is a slow-burning, neo-noir vibe at play with Bob (a brilliantly self-contained Tom Hardy), the amiable bartender working for his cousin Marv (James Gandolfini) in a bar that serves as a collection spot for local gangster money.
The bar gets robbed one night, Bob rescues an abused dog from a dumpster and meets an equally jaded young woman (Noomi Rapace) with a neighborhood tough guy (Matthias Schoenaerts) skulking around ready to make trouble, and you’re just waiting for the trapdoor to fall out from under everyone. Director Michaël Roskam (Bullhead) doesn’t rush the proceedings, allowing his stellar cast to set the stage for a chilling finale that may not offer genuine surprises, yet still gets under the skin. (R) Grade: B+
Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Briefs, CityBeat Archives
15 Thursday May 2014
Posted Black Eye
inTags
14 Wednesday May 2014
Posted Black Eye, CityBeat Archives
inTags
Back in 2002, Joel Schumacher and Colin Farrell captured a startling mix of old school terror with a new sensibility in the mainstream-friendly Phone Booth. Farrell’s smooth-talking protagonist was a stereotypically sleazy operator, with a loving wife and a would-be woman on the side, who crossed paths with an anonymous trickster offering him the chance to make things right — at a cost. The unseen speaker (Kiefer Sutherland) on the other end of that line was similar to Jigsaw (Tobin Bell), the master manipulator from the Saw franchise who forces his subjects to face gruesomely high consequences.
Steven Knight, Oscar-nominated screenwriter (and director) of Dirty Pretty Things, updates the means of communication in his new feature, Locke, but also strips the premise down to the core — to truly shocking effect. Ivan Locke (Tom Hardy) is an archetype, a highly principled literary creation in an age that has let such philosophical notions fall by the wayside. Locke lives in a universe diametrically opposed to Farrell’s flashy phony, but they reflect an image back to the audience of ourselves — trapped and stranded by communication that separates us from others, ourselves and any sense of responsibility for our actions.
Locke leaves work late, kicks off his construction boots and doffs his protective outer gear, slides behind the wheel of his luxury BMW and sets off, we assume, for a quiet night at home. Quickly, though, the first of what will become an ongoing series of communications ensues and we realize Locke is not heading home.
This dedicated, dependable man, this efficient construction manager about to oversee the largest non-military concrete pour (for a towering skyscraper) in British history, is about to detonate his structured and secure life and erect something that remains to be seen as the night unfolds.
All at once, he is juggling personal and professional crises that, while seemingly impossible to comprehend (at least to those who know this otherwise practical man), exist solely because of Locke’s rigid brand of practicality and logic. Locke is driven to not let anyone down. We hear his determination rise up to each challenge that presents itself.
He’s driving to London for the arrival of his newborn child, an offspring conceived during a one-night stand with Bethan, a fragile woman (Olivia Colman) who was his assistant on a job less than a year ago. He had been away from his happy home for too long and the woman was lonely and sad, even in the midst of a celebration for a job well done. They drank too much and Locke sought to ease her sadness for a moment. Seven months later, he’s on the phone with her, assuring her that he is on his way. He must be there — less for her, a woman he refuses to lie to (she tells him often that she loves him, but he cannot offer the empty words that might soothe her as her labor takes a dark turn).
We hear his conversations with his wife (Ruth Wilson) and sons, waiting for his arrival home to eat, drink and watch a pivotal soccer match together. We hear the love and hurt as he seeks to shield his sons from the truth and later the pain and realization in his wife’s voice as she recognizes a cold hard truth about Locke (and their relationship).
On the professional end, Locke, from his remote driver’s seat, claims responsibility for his looming absence the following morning by taking complete control over all the details, even once his bosses have snatched the project from him and terminated him. None of that matters to Locke, though; he has all of the key documentation and a dependable underling who provides assistance while placing his own position at risk.
Locke sets himself up as the final arbiter of right and wrong, and it can certainly be argued that principle compels him, but is that enough in a complex situation? Is it right to destroy one home to build another, especially if the one being built is on a faulty foundation? As problems spiral from the personal into the professional realm, is it truly his responsibility to seize complete control away from management? What makes him the lone preserver of architectural integrity?
Knight, with far more subtlety and precision than Schumacher’s Phone Booth, creates a philosophical dialogue rooted in fundamental relationships that engages our practical natures and our very souls, thanks to an internally focused performance from Hardy that rides through the dirty, pretty heart of darkness into dawning self-awareness. (R) Grade: A (tt stern-enzi)
16 Friday Sep 2011
Sometimes the story is the story — that’s all there is, and the producers stick with it. Gavin O’Connor (Miracle, Pride and Glory) gets to mash-up two of his favorite genres — crowd-pleasing sports and gritty sibling drama — with Warrior, the story of two brothers (Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton) waging distinctly different personal comebacks on their way towards a classic and completely inevitable showdown in the gladiator sport of MMA.
Younger brother Tommy (Hardy) reluctantly hooks up with their ex-alcoholic and abusive former boxer dad (Nick Nolte) to exorcise deep-seated demons, while older brother Brendan (Edgerton), a high school science teacher fights to stave off foreclosure and to keep his own family together. Long separated and with secrets to be revealed along the way, the brothers are both underdogs in a high-stakes, winner-takes-all event eager to promote not one but two Rocky Balboas.
That is exactly what O’Connor gives the audience — and all that the marketing and promotions machine can sell in the trailers — but Hardy and Edgerton pump it up with real heart and soul. Hardy is a caged brute, a force of nature waiting to be unleashed, but just as likely to flash a hint of unexpected gentleness to lull you in before delivering the swift knockout, while Edgerton (an Australian who is about to kickoff a bit of a role as a featured onscreen player over the course of the next few months) settles nicely as the more grounded, practical brother.
Coming on the heels of The Fighter, O’Connor’s Warrior gives audiences what that story didn’t — a chance to see the titanic clash of brothers in arms with everything on the line and a ring full of winners. Grade: B+
Posted by terrencetodd | Filed under Briefs, CityBeat Archives