Monthly Archives: January 2021

Hometown Hero

Pop superstar Justin Timberlake gets tough in heart-tugging Southern drama

Justin Timberlake and newcomer Ryder Allen in ‘Palmer’

Palmer
Starring Justin Timberlake, Juno Temple and Ryder Allen
Directed by Fisher Stephens
R
Jan. 29 on Apple+

A former small-town football hero returns home to rural Louisiana after serving a 12-year prison sentence, where he becomes involved in the messy home life of a young boy living next door to his grandmother.

Starring as the hulking, sulking, melancholy ex-con, Justin Timberlake looks and acts like someone a few hundred, hard miles away from the polished pop superstar who started out as a perky preteen Mouseketeer on The All-New Mickey Mouse Club before launching the squeaky-clean boy band NSYNC.

As NSYNC sang, “Bye Bye Bye.”

The multi-millon-selling singer, songwriter and producer has also forged a formidable acting career with roles in some 20 movies, including The Social Network, Bad Teacher, Inside Llewyn Davis and Wonder Wheel. (I’ll be kind and won’t count the computer-animated/live-action 2010 unnatural-disaster comedy pile-up that was Yogi Bear, for which Timblerlake voiced Yogi’s short-stuff companion, Boo Boo.)

His last movie was Trolls World Tour, released earlier this year, a sequel to the 2016 animated musical romp based on the frizzy-haired toy dolls of the 1960s.

Palmer is Timberlake’s return to more meaty, serious dramatic fare, as his character rebuilds his life, becoming a reluctant caretaker and champion for a child who doesn’t fit in anywhere else in the community.

We meet Palmer when he gets off the bus in his little backwater hometown, then hikes it to the house of his grandmother, Vivian (June Squibb), who raised him. We find out she’s the only family he’s got left, and that she has a few rules, like getting up and taking her to church every Sunday.

Praise the Lord: Timberlake, Allen and June Squibb

Looking out the window of her house, Palmer sees the rundown mobile home next door. Vivian tells him she regrets renting it to the young mother, Shelly, and her son, Sam (Ryder Allen), living there now—because Shelly’s boyfriend is always around, causing trouble.

Sam is “different” from the other boys, at Vivian’s church and at his school. He wears a barrette to keep his hair out of his eyes, he plays with dolls, he sashays and prisses when he walks. He wants nothing more than to become a member of the princess club, from his favorite cartoon TV show.

In a more, ahem, enlightened community, Sam would be considered “gender fluid,” or perhaps “non-binary.” Most people in Palmer’s hometown are, well, a little more blunt.

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” says one of Vivian’s church-going friends.

When Shelly runs off with her boyfriend, kindly Vivian takes in Sam to live—with her and Palmer. For how long, they don’t know.

Like just about everyone else, Palmer initially doesn’t know quite what to make of Sam. “You know you’re a boy, right?” he asks him. “Boys don’t play with dolls.”

“Well, I’m a boy,” Sam answers him. “And I do.”

Director Fisher Stevens—an actor turned award-winning documentary filmmaker—takes the movie into some predictable places, first as a “buddy picture” showing the gradual bonding process of Palmer and Sam, then layering on emotionally wrenching overtones that might remind movie lovers of break-up dramas like Kramer vs. Kramer or Marriage Story.

Palmer becomes Sam’s guardian angel, stepping in to stop schoolyard bullies—or busting a redneck’s head to impart some tough lessons about tolerance. The pop idol who once sang about “bringing sexy back”—and lays down some slick R&B gospel grooves in his new single, “Better Days,” with New Jersey rapper Ant Clemons—now brings out his fist to strike a blow against hateful ignorance of people who react with meanness when they “see something that they ain’t used to seein’,” especially when it’s hurtful to a child.

It’s a strong, beefy performance from Timberlake, but he gives much of the film over to his nine-year-old co-star, who makes a memorable movie debut (Allen’s only previous acting experience was an appearance on a 2017 episode of TV’s Law & Order). Though she disappears for much of the movie, British actress Juno Temple (mostly recently on Hulu’s Ted Lasso) does a convincing turn as Sam’s drug-addicted, Southern-fried, trailer-trash mom. That’s Dean Winters—yep, the “Mayhem” guy from the Allstate commercials—as her loutish, abusive boyfriend. Alisa Wainright is Sam’s teacher, the lovely Ms. Hayes, who uses a school Halloween party—when Sam comes in a princess costume—to gently teach a lesson to her kids that people can “be whoever you wanna be.”

Juno Temple

As Palmer puts his own life back together, he finds many of the missing pieces in building a better world for Sam. This deep-South drama’s sensitive, humanistic approach to atonement, acceptance, inclusion and compassion will resonate with anyone who’s ever felt like a loner, an outcast, an oddity—and who might wish they had someone like Palmer in their corner, advocating for them, standing up for them, loving them, fighting for them.    

“There’s things in this world you can be, and things in this world that you can’t,” Palmer tells Sam at one point, worried about how hard it’s going to be for Sam to acclimate to a world seemingly set against him. But by the end of the film, Palmer has changed his mind; Sam can be a princess, Palmer can be whole, and the circle of family can be as wide, and as full, as you make it.  

And Timberlake can be a serious movie star, again, in a movie like Palmer.

Cops & Criminals

Denzel Washington returns to a familiar form in neo-noirish crime psycho-drama filled with Oscar winners

The Little Things
Starring Denzel Washington, Rami Malek & Jared Leto
Directed by John Lee Hancock
R
In theaters and on HBO Max Jan. 29, 2021

If you watch TV, odds are pretty good you come across an occasional cop show or two.

Nearly 20 percent of all television programming is about police officers, detectives and other law-enforcement types solving crimes, on hit “procedurals” like Law & Order SVU and NCIS, two of the longest-running dramas of any kind currently on the air.

And if you dig shows like that, you’ll likely dig watching Denzel Washington dig deep into this crime-drama thriller, playing a veteran patrolman on the long trail of a serial killer with a kink for young California women.

Rami Malek

Washington is Joe “Deke” Deacon, a Bakersfield deputy sheriff who teams with a younger, slicker LAPD detective, Jim Baxter (Rami Malek), when circumstances bring Deke outside his usual jurisdiction—and back to the the very precinct where he once worked.

Though Deke and Baxter are from two different worlds, practically different eras of policing, they become partners when the evidence continues to mount, the body count continues to rise—and the search narrows to what appears to be a prime suspect.

Solving a case like this one, Deke tells Baxter, requires endless commitment and paying attention to detail—anything that a suspect might do, or leave behind as a clue. “Little things are important, Jimmy,” he says. “It’s little things that get you caught.”

Director/writer John Lee Hancock—whoseother films include Saving Mr. Banks, The Blind Side, The Rookie and The Alamo—certainly knows how to put little things, all the details, into crafting a well-built movie story. This, his first film since The Highwaymen (2019)—the true-ish tale of the Texas Rangers who brought down outlaws Bonnie and Clyde—chugs along with fine-tuned, neo-noir procedural precision, ratcheting up the tension and layering on the complexity as Deke bores down into the nitty-gritty of his investigation…and into something about this case, bringing him back to Los Angeles, that’s particularly troubling.

Something from the past is haunting him, and the new murders bring all the old memories up, out of the shadows, like ghosts.

Washington, one of Hollywood’s most dependable stars, is a two-time Oscar winner (Glory and Training Day), with a resume that stretches into nearly 60 films. We’ve watched him grow as a actor, from TV’s St. Elsewhere in the 1980s through Oscar-nominated roles in Cry Freedom (1988), Malcolm X (1993), The Hurricane (1999), Flight (2013) and Fences (2017). But he’s always had a thing for cops and robbers and guys on one extreme of the law or the other, in movies like The Equalizer franchise, 2 Guns, Safe House, American Gangster, Inside Man, The Bone Collector and Fallen. Now, at age 66, it’s perfectly appropriate for him to play Deke, the veteran officer, with a bit of a paunch, his hair mostly grey, and a weary, dogged determination that calls for more brains than brawn.  

His performance seems, in other words, completely authentic, wholly believable—and so very Denzellian.

Whetting our appetite for his even juicier appearance later this year as a villain in the new James Bond flick, No Time to Die, Malek—who also has an Oscar (for playing Queen frontman Freddy Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody—is virtually unreadable and inscrutable, especially at first, as the icy, media-saavy, big-city detective. But he thaws a bit when he learns that he’s not so different from his older, more experienced, Bakersfield counterpart, especially when it comes to becoming obsessesed over a vexing case.

And speaking of villains, Jared Leto—also an Oscar winner (Dallas Buyers Club)—plays prime suspect Albert Sparma, a textbook-case weirdo even creepier than his creepy-sounding name. Not to mention his admission that’s he’s a crime wonk, he looks like Charles Manson and he even has a copy of Helter Skelter on his bookcase. He taunts the police, knowing they don’t have enough hard evidence to hold him, much less arrest him. Is he really the the killer?

Jared Leto

Little Things keeps you guessing—and keeps Denzel and Rami digging, while dropping clues like bread crumbs all over Los Angeles. A local radio station provides a backdrop of classic pop and soul—and perhaps a wink-wink soundtrack of the investigation’s progress, as Mary Wills’ “My Guy” accompanies Deke’s eureka moment when he thinks he “makes” his suspect, or Peggy March’s “I Will Follow Him” plays as he tails him down the interstate.

But the movie most reminded me of another classic song, the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil,” in which Mick Jagger sings, “Every cop is a criminal, and all the sinners saints.” As Deke and Baxter move closer to solving the crime, burrowing deeper into their investigation, the movie likewise blurs the lines, between law breakers and law keepers, guardian angels and personal demons, plunging its story past a police procedural into darker, murkier waters with more disturbing undertones.

Although Little Things deals with some ghastly, gristly crimes at its core, it’s not a particularly gory movie; all of its awfulness happens off-camera, or is seen in photographs. You’ll see some blood and some bodies, but it’s not meant to gross you out. It’s a multiple-murder mystery for you to solve, a puzzle for you to put together, and a solidly effective psycho-thriller with some twists you probably won’t see coming.

It’s like binge-watching a whole TV crime-solving series in one big, Oscar-star movie gulp.

“The past becomes the future becomes the past…,” Deke says. What does he mean? Baxter and Sparma find out, and you will, too.

Just pay attention to the little things—because yes, they are important.  

Tight Trio

Powerful acting performances anchor brutally honest, real-life cancer drama

Our Friend
Starring Dakota Johnson, Casey Affleck & Jason Segel
Directed by Gabriela Cowperthwaite
R
In select theaters and available video on demand Jan. 22, 2021

Shailene Woodley had it. Shirley MacLaine had it. So did Ali McGraw, Olivia Cooke and Bella Thorne.

It’s dying-girl disease. And it affects a lot of beautiful Hollywood actresses, in a span of films, from the classics—Love Story and Terms of Endearment—to more contemporary millennial tear-jerkers like The Spectacular Now, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl and Midnight Sun.

Now Dakota Johnson has it, in this eloquent, sensitive, strong-hearted adaptation of an award-winning 2015 Esquire magazine first-person feature.

In that article, writer Matt Teague detailed the excruciating ordeal of his wife, Nicole, with cancer, and how their longtime best friend, Dane, upended his own life to relocate from another state and move into the laundry room of their home to help them.

Director Gabriela Cowperthwaite, whose previous feature was the true-life military drama Meagan Levy (2017), crafts the story of the Teagues in a series of flashbacks and flash-forwards. We get to see how the friendship begins between Nicole (Johnson) and Matt (Casey Affleck), a young married couple living in Shreveport, Miss., and Dane (Jason Segel), and how it continues when the Teagues move away to neighboring Fairhope, Ala.   

As anyone who’s had any experience with cancer knows, it’s not pretty. And the movie softens much—a great deal—of Matthew Teague’s article about just how nasty and messy and ugly things got as he watched, and cared for, his wife as she wasted away. But who would want to watch that, right?

But you might want to watch Dakota Johnson, Casey Affleck and Jason Segal, all giving some of the best performances they’ve given in a “mainstream” drama in a long time. You may best remember Johnson in the fantasy-horror weird-out that was Suspiria or her 50 Shades S&M softcore sex romps, portraying characters who took viewers on flights of wild escapism. In Our Friend, however, she plays Nicole with the delicate, nuanced sense of a woman grounded not in fantasy, but in the realities of an actual person whose life took some very wrenching turns.

Jason Segal, Isabella Kai & Violet McGraw

Segel, best known for comedies like Forgetting Sarah Marshall, The Muppets, I Love You, Man and his appearances on How I Met Your Mother, is outstanding as Matt and Nicole’s somewhat listless best friend. Dane leaves his job at a sporting-goods store and finds his true calling by helping the Teagues do whatever they need, especially when it comes to the surrogate parenting of their two young daughters (Violet McGraw and Isabella Kai).    

Affleck won a slew of awards, including an Oscar, for the searing, emotionally draining drama Manchester by the Sea (2016), and he’s appeared in almost every other kind of film, from Westerns and comedies and sci-fi thrillers. He plays Matt as a tough nut to crack—a newspaper reporter who works his way up becoming a magazine war correspondent with a hard shell, one that’s not softened by his job or assignments that take him away from home for weeks at a time.

“I’m your best friend, asshole. I’m allowed to point out your sh*itty qualities,” Dane tells him. “You’re moody, you’re selfish, you’re distant.”

One of the surprises of Our Friend is how it weaves happy moments, funny and even uplifting bright spots into the fabric of sadness and what we know will become Nicole’s fate. There are jokes and giggles, goofy car singalongs to Carly Rae Jepson’s “Call Me Maybe,” a kayaking montage to Led Zeppelin (Nicole’s favorite band). But the movie also doesn’t shy away from some real-life fissues that added even more stress to the Teagues’ already stressful situation, like an extramarital affair and a family pet that has to be put down at a most importune moment.

Gwendoline Christie, from Game of Thrones and the Star Wars franchise, shows up in a most unexpected manner, and country music fans will likewise get a jolt to see hitmaker Jake Owen in a couple of scenes—making his movie acting debut—as an insensitive spouse of one of Nicole’s best friends.

It’s all a lovely, finely tuned, brutally honest portrait of a marriage, a family and a friend, who went through something terrible—and something profoundly bonding—together. It’ll make you weep, but you’ll feel good about the tears.

And the bottom line, in this “dying girl” movie: It’s not so much about a beautiful dying girl. It’s about a beautiful friendship that grew and blossomed around Nicole Teague, and became even stronger when she found out she was dying—and especially when her other “friends” started to peel off and pull away. It’s a movie about loyalty, devotion, bromance and selflessness, sacrifice and a steadfast kind of friendship that endures everything, even the looming spectre of separation and death.

It’s about coming together, staying together and holding on, when something heinous and relentless and horrible is trying so hard to pull us apart.

“What kind of person gives up his entire life?” asks a frustrated girlfriend (Marielle Scott) Dane has been dating, at the end of her relationship rope after he’s moved away for an extended stay with the Teagues.

“I’d say a good friend,” Dane answers.

And I’d say, in a world like we’re living in at this moment, feeling more pulled apart and hotly divided than ever, we could all use a bit more coming together, staying together and holding on. We could all sure use a good friend like Dane. And we can certainly use a feel-good movie like Our Friend.