Assassin's Creed (2016)

Score: 2.5 / 5

Distinctly underwhelming but still a hell of a good time, Assassin's Creed is first and foremost a video game. I've never played it, and now I don't feel like I need to. The film's two-hour running time might seem fair for a sci-fi/action/fantasy/adventure flick about secret societies, martial arts, the Spanish Inquisition, and an eagle that just keeps showing up. While its overplotted, bewilderingly paced narrative slogs on, however, we are absorbed into the jittery, jerky fight scenes that give us neither blood nor much sophistication, leaving us unsatisfied yet craving more. Much like most video games.

Similarly, while the nature of an action-based film suggests a specific style of cinematography suited for handheld intimacy and kinetic grit, the camerawork here almost completely lost me. Director Justin Kurzel (Macbeth) continues his tendency of style over substance, but here he also employs an enormous budget. Rather than enhancing the drama at hand with better focus, detail, or insight, he douses each shot with so many visual effects that nothing looks real. Ethereal and foggy, lit with operatic spotlights and saturated in color, the images are both lovely and superficial, unweighted and ultimately inconsequential. The most memorable moments are those in which one of our leads faces off against the other, often with tears in their eyes, and the camera zooms in close. If the rest of the film would only make you care about them, you might tear up too.

That said, the only thing I found to make this movie bearable were its leads. Though they are robbed of significant screen time, they all perform admirably, especially Marion Cotillard. Her typical suavity and intrigue are about as opaque as the CGI dust swirling around, but that doesn't mean she doesn't rock at what she does best. Michael Fassbender is no less spellbinding though his role here is largely physical, and damned if he doesn't make a white undershirt and gray sweats look sexier than sin.

Brendan Gleeson pops in for a couple wasted scenes, and Jeremy Irons, while lovely to behold, is largely cast aside. Charlotte Rampling makes a surprise appearance, one that we might expect to continue in a sequel or five, however many the studios churn out these days. Speaking of which, the ending does indeed feed into franchise frenzy, one that here does not seem deserved. Maybe it would have if the film was as cheery or fresh as some of the Marvel ilk, though to be fair, I totally enjoyed this picture's solemnity and lack of humor. Maybe it would have if it weren't bogged down by its own mythology, explaining itself in repetitive cycles yet still managing to ignore sizable plot holes. Maybe it would have had it allowed its best special effects -- Fassbender and Cotillard -- to shine through the digital-visual swamps and not just look pretty. Then again, their mere presence in this half-baked semi-conscious quasi-coherent picture is miraculous enough.

IMDb: Assassin's Creed

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)

Score: 5 / 5

It's the Star Wars we've always wanted.

Stepping away from the Skywalker saga was a risky move on the franchise's part, and one that has more than paid off. We finally get a better understanding of galactic life away from the Jedi and the famous protagonists of the other films, an experience of war unlike any we've seen in the series. Of course, those of us who love the books have entertained these stories for years, but to see them in all their glory on the big screen is quite different. I suspect this film will also speak to fans of the video games, as it features violent action in a more grounded way than a cadre of Jedi with their lightsabers.

In every conceivable way, this is an improvement over The Force Awakens. Where the latter uses recycled plots, vague foreshadowing, sentiment and nostalgia, and ultimately nothing visually new, Rogue One features a totally fresh and inspired narrative, a contained standalone premise, intrigue and uncertainty, and constant new images, places, and sensations. From its first desolate scene, this picture revs up the energy and the novelty, and from there it keeps getting better. There is some shaky editing and pacing in the first half hour or so, as we jump from place to place and various characters with breakneck pace and bewildering connection, but it mellow out by the halfway point and brings the strands together in focused precision. By the time we reached the climactic battle on an idyllic beachfront, I was so overwhelmed with awe and excitement I was shaking in my seat.

A word of forewarning: you may want to reconsider taking your kids to this one. The film is about spies and impostors, paranoia and violence, and in case you weren't sure, war. There's a lot to admire in its female hero -- who doesn't succumb to a narrative of romance -- and its ragtag team of misfits who band together to bring down the Empire, a trope I expect we'll see a lot more of in the next four years of our political climate. And yet children may not appreciate or understand that our fabulous rebels are panicking, ruthless and desperate, and that their behaviors include targeting each other out of suspicion and self-interest; there's a lot of tension when the people you're working with will kill you at the slightest provocation, and when they're targeting the people you love. Similarly, while the film features little bloodshed (these are blasters and lightsabers, after all, not guns and machetes), it is first and foremost a war film. With its extended battle sequences, be prepared for some fatigue and the deaths of loved ones.

I might add that it's not all gloom and doom. It's a rousing story, one which surpasses its somber ending by sheer virtue of its ability to find light and hope in the darkness. This is achieved through an expert script, a fabulous score, and its little nods to the rest of the franchise. Keep your eyes open for Darth Vader, who is featured in a scene that will remind you of Halloween in its horror and violence; it reminds us why he is actually a bad guy. A few surprise visits from old faces such as Bail Organa, the thugs from the Mos Eisley cantina, our favorite robots, rebel senators and pilots, and of course our princess in white keep things interesting and fun. The most shocking (and apparently hotly debated) appearance comes from a digitally recreated Peter Cushing as Grand Moff Tarkin. While some have criticized his appearance, I'd say he looks pretty good for being dead for 22 years. I don't think the filmmakers should have featured him as much as they did, considering they had an almost equivalent villain in Ben Mendelsohn's Director Krennic, but his presence was certainly enjoyable.

I might be blinded by my own enthusiasm, but this was for me one of the best pictures of the year. Timely and smart, risky and strong, it parades its spectacle out in arresting beauty and haunting import. Felicity Jones leads the adventure with intense command, and the visionary Gareth Edwards yet again shows his skills as a big-budget director with an eye not just for explosions but meaning. Make sure Rogue One is on your holiday list. You won't have a bad feeling about this.

IMDb: Rogue One

Moonlight (2016)

Score: 5 / 5

Moonlight is one of those films impossible to effectively describe, because any attempt at doing so lessens its importance, impact, and beauty. But obviously I'm going to try to do that here.

In a form befitting its theatrical origin, the film follows young Chiron through three stages of his life, each named after the labels and identifiers others place upon him. It's a calm, calculated, and precise film, focusing in on the character drama at play as we quickly fall in love with our main man. With intimate camerawork and lyrical style, the film engrosses our attention as it seduces our senses, enveloping us in a very specific world we almost never see on the big screen.

Director Barry Jenkins leads with intoxicating compassion, setting up the places and people in his picture and almost immediately subverting our expectations, shattering stereotypes and narrative tropes with deceptive tranquility. Most importantly, he unravels his complex themes -- notably questions of identity -- in such a way that long-silenced voices may be heard loud and clear. Despite the seemingly preachy nature of its themes, including family, poverty, sexuality, black masculinity, gay masculinity, crime, addiction, and adolescence, the film doesn't actually try to get a single message across; rather, it offers us a glimpse of a beautiful life on the edge, and we are left with impressions and emotions and understanding, to handle as we are able. Chiron (played alternately by Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and the incredible Trevante Rhodes) ventures through a world of isolation and a culture in which he seeks meaningful connection, and as we follow him we lose ourselves to him. His silence speaks volumes, and in an otherwise somber picture, his life shines through as a flame of hope.

It's like nothing I've ever seen on film before. If I had to, I'd compare it to Boyhood in sheer scope and emotional effect. But where that film proudly declares its importance, Moonlight quietly slides under your skin and shakes you to the core. Its unassuming, unpretentious style paradoxically heightens the film beyond a simple story of a young man coming of age and turns it into an iconic masterpiece. See it. It'll change your life.

IMDb: Moonlight

Miss Sloane (2016)

Score: 4 / 5

A political thriller of the highest caliber, Miss Sloane sears across the screen and into our eyeballs with ferocious wit and impeccable style. It is also in some ways the essence of why this Oscar season doesn't feel like an Oscar season.

Look at the recent releases in cinemas. Sure, big blockbusters can be more common as we leave summer and approach the holidays, but we've seen a surprising lack of real awards season contenders since October. Besides Arrival and Moonlight, can you even think of a real major Best Picture candidate? The last I would have guessed might have been Hell or High Water, but that was released almost half a year ago. I know we still have some major films coming up from Scorsese and Chazelle, among others, but it seems like this year's race is a last-minute hustle.

In Miss Sloane, we have a fierce screenplay that fizzles out at the end. We have a superstar performance from a leading woman that is ultimately overshadowed by unfocused direction. We have storytelling that is anything but original in design. Sound like other films we've been seeing all year? I don't want to get down on this particular movie, because it really is fabulous. But my anxieties have peaked with the looming of Golden Globe nominations tomorrow morning, and so I'm finally expressing my frustration at the lack of gold-worthy pictures this year.

That said, I loved this movie. I love political thrillers, courtroom dramas, feminist icons, high style, and sassy scripts, and this has all that and then some, and it's all here. Our titular hero is a lobbyist, formidable and vicious, famed and hated for her cunning and dubious means of achieving success (Does this sound timely to you??). Despite her gray-area ethics and debatable methods, Sloane cuts away the crap, reveling in her own sense of purpose and skill and thriving as she mows down her opponents. I felt invigorated and inspired as I watched her, but I would not be surprised if others felt alienated and even threatened by her (much like what people feel when they watch Frank Underwood do his thang on House of Cards). Jessica Chastain delivers a knockout performance in stunning costume, riding a tidal wave of seething emotion with grace and restraint. I'd argue that she is the only thing that keeps the film from a great big flop into obscurity.

While her performance is more than worth the viewing, the rest of the film suffers from less-inspired delivery. Perhaps it's our age of instant news and publicly shamed politics, perhaps it's the incessant white noise of crime procedurals and legal thrillers on television, but almost nothing about the story here feels urgent enough to deserve a feature-length production. It's like an episode of Damages or Scandal stretched over two hours' time with little melodramatic payoff and even less bloodshed. That doesn't mean the dialogue isn't heightened and sharp, even gasp-inducingly clever, it just means it all feels a little stale. And don't even get me started on the conceptually fabulous yet terribly executed ending. Thankfully, John Lithgow presides over the mess to keep things interesting.

So. Award-worthy? Maybe for Miss Chastain, but nobody else. Then again, who else really deserves an award anyway?

IMDb: Miss Sloane

Jane Got a Gun (2016)

Score: 2 / 5

For a run-of-the-mill Western, it's not bad. But in a genre all but dead, we definitely hope for something with a bit more kick.

Leading the otherwise traditional narrative is our female hero, Jane (Natalie Portman), whose skill with a gun is second only to her skill at emoting. While nursing her bullet-ridden hubby (Noah Emmerich), she prepares for the approach of a gang of outlaws, namely the "Bishop Boys" led by none other than Ewan McGregor with a black, triangular moustache and shiny prosthetic buck teeth. To aid her, she enlists her ex-lover Dan (Joel Edgerton) in booby-trapping her little home and fending off the raiders. As the climax approaches ever so sluggishly, we undergo flashbacks revealing the nature of the hatred between all parties involved, including the Civil War, lost letters, pregnancy, a boot in a river, and PG-rated prostitution.

Apart from its irritating title, Jane Got a Gun is a mess to watch. Thinly sketched characters, stock cinematography, and some of the worst pacing I've ever seen make viewing this movie a trip and a half, and that's before you've even broken out the whiskey. There's some nice set work, a nice performance from Portman, and occasionally nice visuals. But since when are Westerns "nice"? Poorly balancing between gritty action (when the movie succeeds) and sentimental melodrama (where the movie could succeed but notably fails), the picture teeters towards waste, forsaking the strengths of its lead talents in favor of shallow action and unfocused storytelling.

Even with its slim 90-some-minute running time, the film feels too long. There's no joy to be found in this world, unlike in Cowboys & Aliens, and even during what should feel like a rousing feminist climax and denouement, you really just pray it'll hurry up and finish. Conversely, if joy isn't your desire for Westerns, there's also only the shadow of darkness, no disturbing violence or moral compromises we have to endure like in The Hateful Eight or even parts of The Magnificent Seven (both of which arguably feature both joy and horror, seemingly perfect for the post-Western Western film).

It's worth a watch, if only for Portman, but only if you have nothing better to see.

IMDb: Jane Got a Gun

The Invitation (2016)

Score: 4 / 5

If you're looking for something dark and heavy to curl up with this winter, The Invitation awaits you right now on the Netflix. And while I usually don't care for spoiling plot points and climaxes for you, this time I'll refrain as much as possible. Not because this movie is a big mystery or unpredictable, but because the way in which it presents itself is so beautiful that summarizing it here would lessen the dramatic impact for you.

The film concerns a dinner party, one thrown in rural Hollywood Hills by Eden and her new husband David, who have been mysteriously absent from social life for the last two years. Invited are sundry past friends -- Tommy and his boyfriend Miguel, Clara, Ben, Gina, and Choi who is apparently running late -- and Eden's ex-husband Will and his new girlfriend Kira. Eden and Will had divorced while trying to cope with the sudden death of their young son, and each has dealt (or, rather, not) with that pain in vastly different ways. It's the first time this group has been together since that tragedy, and tensions run as high as their curiosities.

Most of the film is a riveting drama, focusing on the interactions of these individuals as they navigate the tough waters of maintaining social graces in awkward situations. Slow, calculated shots follow each of the players through their anxieties as the plot unfolds. There's something a little off about David and Eden, and once they reveal their whereabouts for the last two years, the thrills begin to mount. Careful writing and a gorgeous score work seamlessly together, heightening the already fabulous set and costume design, fashioning an elitist atmosphere of suspicion and paranoia.

Between the red herrings and devastating revelations, we as the audience are drawn into an acute awareness that these people are suffering not because of their current situation, but rather because of the polite constraints of their culture. Eden and David have seemingly sought out an answer for their pain and a means to escape the imprisoning niceties of society, and while the others are at times enamored or infuriated by it, none is more disturbed than Will, who slowly breaks down as he re-lives the tragedies of his past. Ultimately, of course, all hell breaks loose, and as their respective weapons are drawn, our cast neglects any form of decency and their baser instincts take control.

It's not really "horror", and if you're looking for action or wit, this isn't for you. As a keen observation of social graces and a piercing satire of the same, however, the film is a masterpiece, and one that requires a nice glass of wine and a darkened room to fully enjoy. Immersive and absorbing, the film offers a fairly unique vision that, while far from perfect, will stay with you for a long time after. Accept the Invitation, and see where it takes you.

IMDb: The Invitation

Moana (2016)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Another beautiful excursion in the era of Disney rebirth. From its opening short film, which sets up a narrative of self-discovery and infectious personal joy, Moana brings abundance of life to the big screen. While many parts feel derivative at best and downright racist at worst, ultimately the film keeps everything light, moving, and fun. To that end, the music by Mark Mancina, Opetaia Foa'i, and Lin-Manuel Miranda creates a fabulous sense of urgency and wonder, propelling us through the rich cultural world of Polynesia as we try to take it all in.

The story -- riding the wake of Frozen and Zootopia in the best possible ways -- brings together some of the strongest feminism and environmentalism we've seen from Disney yet. Moana, the chief's daughter, learns to lead her island while her heart calls her out to the sea (read: Pocahontas in the Pacific). Her pagan grandmother (Grandmother Willow, by extension), perceiving Moana's restlessness, reveals the history of the island and the nature of the troubles inflicting it. To save her people, Moana must journey across the seas to find the demigod Maui, who has stolen the heart of the life-goddess Te Fiti. Apparently only Maui can restore the heart, which will stop a terrible destructive darkness from consuming the world, but Maui is lost and in denial, having been overcome by the darkness he had unleashed.

Confused yet? Don't be. Apart from the occasionally confusing mythology (which is probably only confusing due to the rather white-appropriated vision we are presented with), the story is straightforward. Moana sets out across a beautifully realized seascape and some stunning visual effects with little but a raft/sailboat and a terribly stupid chicken sidekick. When she finds the selfish and proud demigod (who takes more than a little inspiration from Aladdin's Genie), she labors to convince him to help her, and ultimately understands that the quest is hers alone. Though the film repeatedly sets up Maui to be a reluctant hero, the climax features Moana as the true hero, braving impossible odds to make a stand against the vicious lava demon Te Ka and restore Te Fiti's heart.

You might have noticed the references the film makes. There are many more. Notably, and perhaps most obviously, there is a brief sequence that hilariously nods to Mad Max: Fury Road, but I won't spoil that for you. Still other moments hearken to The Little Mermaid, and one such holds off until after the credits, so stick around. Since there's such vocal online misunderstanding about this film and its supposed uniqueness in being culturally diverse, I would make a few points to that end. First, there is nothing groundbreaking here: We've never seen Polynesia quite like this before, but we have seen several Disneyfied indigenous films (Pocahontas, Brother Bear) as well as those with strong ethnic female protagonists (The Princess and the Frog, Mulan). Second, we will also notice that this film, like those, is directed by white men. Third, while the film may not get the nuances of culture correct (apparently there is some heated opposition from Pacific Islander culture), Disney almost never accurately portrays culture. Because it's animation. And a fantasy, at that. The characters aren't meant to be grounded and realistic, they are meant to be tropes and caricatures; if they weren't, it would be a live-action film, and probably a documentary. Does that make dangerous stereotyping and whitewashing okay? No, but it can inform our appreciation and discussion more than having people shout at each other on social media.

While some of this can get a little heavy, I don't mean to mislead you. The film is a rollicking adventure, one loaded with fierce energy and fabulous art design. It's a pretty conventional Disney tale done with anything but conventional style, and if it doesn't move you, Maui probably stole your heart too.

IMDb: Moana