Coco (2017)

Score: 5 / 5

The first thing you need to know before seeing this movie: The typical Disney "short" that plays prior to the feature is actually about 20 minutes long. Called "Olaf's Frozen Adventure", it plays like a television special about Elsa and Anna & Co. celebrating Yule festivities. While I felt it was a little long for a pre-show show, it's a heartwarming and thoroughly entertaining fantasy that features some really excellent music and laugh-out-loud comedy. And while it may be questionable to put a short about white people before a movie about Mexican culture, there is a connecting theme of traditions and family that serves each story well. And, I have to admit, I was bawling by the end of the short, and it just didn't stop.

Coco follows young Miguel as he chases his dream of music, despite his large family's hatred of it. On the Day of the Dead, Miguel is accidentally transported to the land of the dead, where he will remain until he can get his ancestors' blessing. They, however, won't bless him unless he becomes a shoemaker like the rest of the family, and so Miguel flees, searching for his great-great-(maybe more?)-grandfather, a famous musician. Along the way, he learns the pain of family secrets, the dangers of trust, and ultimately the love only a family can give.

Dazzling special effects make this film fly off the screen in a colorful kaleidoscope, while some fabulous music (scored by Michael Giacchino) keeps your toes tapping all along. But what really makes Coco work is its infectiously warm heart. Honoring the traditions of Mexican culture -- as far as I understand -- the film centers on the concept that remembering family ancestors is what keeps their essence alive. Understanding where we come from is key to understanding where we're going, though it can come with the danger, as Miguel quickly learns, of being false history and of limiting our perspective on different lifestyles. And far from being morbid or overly macabre, the film displays an amazingly tasteful way to engage with children about the processes of death and aging, one that remains endlessly entertaining as well as thoughtful and sensitive.

Richly detailed filmmaking here does not distract from pure storytelling -- complex and dynamic characterizations and plotting -- but it does help the film worm its way to your heart. I can't spoil the ending, but I related a little too much to the dynamics of a family whose matriarch's memory is all but lost. There are so many things we don't know about our own families, our histories, and it is so easy to think it doesn't matter. But it can, and -- as Coco suggests -- probably should matter. And if the holidays aren't the best times to reconnect with family, I don't know when is. Oh, and in case you were wondering, there is a certain theme of rebellion that resonates powerfully in our current political climate. Shots fired, Disney. Bravo.

IMDb: Coco

Doctor Strange (2016)

Score: 4.5 / 5

I shouldn't be surprised by what Marvel Studios produces anymore; with a budget that big, they can do just about anything and gt away with it. Yet Doctor Strange is not unlike Ant-Man in providing a suitable origin story for a new hero (who is unconventional and nauseatingly typical at once) while expanding our understanding of and appreciation for the world of the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe). Sure, it's got its dull, prideful hero who suffers a loss and spends the rest of the film seeking redemption. Sure, it's got its fake anti-hero villain with creepy eyes and accent who gets disintegrated at the end. Sure, it's got a potentially great female love-interest/sidekick who is woefully underwritten. But it's still a ton of fun.

If you can get past Benedict Cumberbatch's American inflections, he performs flawlessly as the doctor, showcasing his own intellect in a markedly different manner than we've seen before. He imbues some remarkably deadpan comedy to the wealthy, proud New Yorker, even when he has come to the end of his hope. He plays the character not unlike Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark in the first Iron Man, and his best moments are during his training in Kamar Taj and especially its library (his interactions with librarian Wong steal the movie).

Frankly, I was expecting a nightmare of visual effects, like in Ant-Man, as our hero bends reality and traverses  alternate dimensions. And while it is largely just that, the filmmakers have a couple of tricks up their sleeve. Most important is that everything feels weighted: great cinematography and sound mixing (and, yes, VFX) keep it all feeling substantial and grounded. While the images on screen begin to look like Inception run amok, director Scott Derrickson (Sinister, The Exorcism of Emily Rose) keeps the action focused precisely and tightly on the actors. He also lets the background chaos order itself into impossible kaleidoscopic shapes; I wonder if the patterns that result are in fact easier for us to watch, allowing both Derrickson and the audience to peripherally absorb it without becoming too distracted.

Doctor Strange might host the best cast of any Marvel movie yet. Mads Mikkelsen plays Kaecilius, the baddie with glowing purple eyes and cracks in his face, and Chiwetel Ejiofor hammers out his Mordo with conviction and the promise of becoming a future anti-hero (stick around after the credits, guys!). Rachel McAdams is not as present as much as she should be, but she proves herself to be a capable and fully-functional heroine in her own right. Of course, the best parts of the film belong solely to Tilda Swinton, the Ancient One who teaches sorcerers in Kathmandu. Ethereal and surprisingly funny, she handles power and control of the film in a way Anthony Hopkins would have liked to in Thor. And then she made me cry at the end.

In context of the other films, this one fits nicely behind Ant-Man for the reasons I gave above. It feels a little disjointed after Civil War -- because dammit I want to know what happened to everybody! -- but it provides several pieces that will come into play later on down the franchise path. It reveals the Infinity Stone of Time and its power. It connects to the "multiverse", which we've heard of before in Thor and in Ant-Man. And it sets up (or, rather, teases) what we might expect in Ragnarok one year from now. The mid-credits scene (which I suspect comes from the third Thor, much like the Civil War scene we saw after Ant-Man was lifted from that film) shows Strange offering to help Thor and Loki find Odin. Which seems a bit, well, strange, since the last time we saw Odin and Loki was in The Dark World, when Thor thought Loki had sacrificed himself, but the latter was impersonating an apparently absent Odin. I guess we'll have to wait a while to find out what shenanigans are happening in Asgard.

One last note: the score in this movie is everything. Michael Giacchino is brilliant.

IMDb: Doctor Strange

The Infiltrator (2016)

Score: 3.5 / 5

This movie should have been called Bryan Cranston, Slay. It just doesn't get much better than watching this powerhouse man performing his crazy, hyper-nuanced craft in a movie (or show) that otherwise doesn't matter as much as it wants to.

Sure, it would have been nice for the film to be better written and better executed, and its tone is about as confused as its focus. Does it want to be a slick crime thriller, or a Breaking Bad ripoff with some period drama? Does it want to be a dense character study or a fun summer action flick? It doesn't know, which translates onscreen to not really being any of those things. But before long in the viewing, I realized I just didn't care about the story. Its fact-based narrative is intriguing, obviously, but it's been done countless times before, and far more effectively. Derivative and flirting with crippling sentiment, the plot even meanders through familiar thematic territory, leaving us more annoyed than moved.

Cranston, on the other hand, shows us his power in every frame. Singly making the film worth watching, he imbues so much duplicity and earnestness into his performance that I found myself absorbed into his gravelly voice and his gaunt, weary visage. He maneuvers as a gymnast, walking a treacherous balance beam with each conversation he has with his wife, his partner, his boss, his enemies, his targets. Though the script gives him almost no helping hands, Cranston makes the character riveting and emotionally palpable.

He is engrossing. The movie is serviceable. Take it or leave it.

IMDb: The Infiltrator