G20 (2025)

Score: 2 / 5

Released on Amazon's Prime Video the same week as The Amateur, G20 is a less gritty and more fun political action-thriller. In the vein of big-budget terrorism movies centered around a sitting US president -- think White House Down, Air Force One, and Olympus has Fallen -- this outing features one of the most compelling and exciting leading stars yet in the form of a formidable Viola Davis. Her character, former Iraq war veteran who was immortalized on a TIME magazine cover, is now President Danielle Sutton, and she's eager to make a splash at the G20 summit in Cape Town. She's also eager to be a good mother to her two teen kids, though her daughter is causing no small amount of havoc, domestically. When mercenaries led by a special forces officer hijack the summit and take the world leaders hostage, Sutton escapes but returns to save her colleagues and her family.

There's not a moment of this film that doesn't feel familiar or predictable, which is disappointing in a film with four writing credits. It's also really disappointing that the film looks so cheap: its clear use of greenscreen in many scenes and endless transition shots makes it look like a network television show's CGI from twenty years ago. But director Patricia Riggen handles the film's propulsive action with diverting thrills and no small amount of tension, even with a frustrating number of bait-and-switches that start at the end of the opening sequence itself. Perhaps that's a problem of the writers, the editors, or the director, but regardless, this is one of those films to not think too critically about. Just go along for the ride. Davis will get you where you need to go. 

The rest of the cast is unremarkable. Anthony Anderson does what he can with a mostly inept First Gentleman, Antony Starr's villain is boorishly blasé, and Douglas Hodge is utterly wasted as the UK Prime Minister. Elizabeth Marvel has a few nice moments, but she's shoehorned in by a screenplay that needs a final twist, and Ramon Rodriguez is memorable as a sweet and plucky sidekick to the prez. But this is Davis's movie through and through, and she delivers with a knowing sense of grit and determination. Her scenes are highly satisfying not necessarily because of her particular physical prowess (this isn't John Wick, after all) but because of her emotional dedication to whoop ass; Davis is never less than authentic, and we feel every punch and kick along with her (remember The Woman King?). It's also highly satisfying to see her pushing back against her white colleagues who explicitly question her leadership as a Black woman, and that her best help comes from other people of color. 

What's the film really about, though? Other than a hammy thematic concern about family and keeping one's house in order, not much. The entire terrorist plot is about money, unfortunately. Cryptocurrency, in fact, and deepfakes, AI, and trade wars all take significant time to discuss. And discuss these characters do, though after multiple detailed conversations and rather obtuse dialogue, I'm still unable to paraphrase much of what the actual plan was, or how various characters schemed to bypass the villainous demands. Perhaps because I simply don't know anything about digital currency, but also perhaps because it doesn't really matter for the story, either.

Arguably too little too late, G20 ends up little more than a ramshackle vehicle for a fun but uncomfortably wobbly ride. It fits with this year's Captain America: Brave New World in that it attempts to address real-world chaos and inflamed racial politics by merely using them rather than offering insight or illumination. It feels "nice," yet I'm not convinced a story like this should ever feel "nice." Eager to impress on us how simple and ultimately helpful it is to find common ground and play nice with diverse people, the film saves itself from total obscurity by enshrining a Black woman as a badass president in the style of Harrison Ford. I just wish our world reflected even an ounce of that in practice right now.

Being the Ricardos (2021)

Score: 4 / 5

The sort of high-brow chamber piece no one expects based on its subject matter (not unlike Steve Jobs), Being the Ricardos is a deliciously dramatic exercise in how even an unbalanced film can succeed through the craftsmanship of its writer and the dedication of its actors. Much like that earlier project, this film is a pressure-cooker of a viewing experience, as we are thrust into the lives of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz during a single, intense week in 1953. And while the facts and history may not be nailed down, the visceral impact of the characters' lived experience is the point of this film. Aaron Sorkin's latest work is certainly not as timely as his latest and greatest film (The Trial of the Chicago 7), but it does showcase a cast as adept with his rapid-fire dialogue as any he's yet assembled.

In terms of plot, the story concerns Lucy and Desi as they work together on recording their hit show I Love Lucy in 1953, during the second or third season. Despite having one child and another on the way, the show seems to have become their baby. They collaborate endlessly (read: chain smoke and banter with writers around the staff table) on every creative choice, but it's clearly Ball who has the final say. Her stamina and wit -- sometimes caustic -- carry her through each ordeal, such as when she orders "healthier" food for her irritated costars for breakfast, or when she clashes with directors on the logics of writing, reading, and even blocking one particular scene. Shrewd and sometimes bitchy, she holds no punches, and much like her famed character, Ball doesn't harness her tongue in the face of the male-dominated industry. It sometimes serves her well, as when (in one of the film's many, lengthy flashbacks) she threatens her entire career if she can't do the show with her Hispanic husband.

And, for now, her catty but well-meaning behavior seems to have saved her marriage, with little to no help from her philandering husband. As they counter each other privately, they support each other publicly, perhaps most clearly in this film when news of Ball's current pregnancy hits the producers, who panic about keeping her stationary, behind furniture and bulky costumes, and even cancelling the show. The power couple team up to trailblaze the idea that a pregnant woman on prime time television is nothing to be ashamed of, as the executives most certainly are. This story's biggest threat to their stardom -- did I mention that, in Sorkin's vision, this is a really stressful week for them? -- comes in the form of Walter Winchell, the infamous tabloid snitch, who revealed Ball's past connection to the Communist Party. This news, more than anything, threatens their livelihoods, and the pair comes out guns blazing to defend themselves. I do wish the film leaned a little further into the real history of the Red Scare and its impact on Hollywood, or even on Ball's factual and staunchly fierce fight against McCarthyism, but this is no historical treatise.

It's a drama, one that hinges on its players' skills in order to succeed. The cast, led by some of the best work from Nicole Kidman and Javier Bardem we've seen in years. Thankfully, they are not chameleonic here; the vogue of the last ten years or so in biopics has been to physically transform characters into uncanny imitations of the real thing; I usually like that to some extent, but there's a lot to be said for suspending that expectation and simply letting actors channel real characters. That's what happens here. Even though Kidman is layered with some prosthetics on her nose and cheeks, it is very much Kidman working to breathe believable life into a distinctly unrealistic caricature. Similarly, Bardem looks almost nothing like Arnaz, but his voice and energy feel as fresh and magnetic as anything his real counterpart delivered on screen. Add J.K. Simmons and especially Nina Arianda as their co-stars "Fred and Ethel," whose hatred for each other shines in this dramatization, and these four performers give us nothing short of an actor's masterclass.

I confess myself surprised by some of Sorkin's directorial choices here; Molly's Game similarly had a few baffling moments, perhaps because he's still working on auteur status. This film is framed, annoyingly, by interviews with older versions of the writers of I Love Lucy, who usually set up exposition and provide details to the flashback sequences. The mockumentary trope employed here is sometimes funny, sometimes sad, and always heavy-handed; it distracts from what would otherwise be a taut focus on the main characters. And it's not like Sorkin is afraid of his leads; indeed, multiple times he takes us directly into Ball's mind, visualizing key scenes from her show in black-and-white to work out physical comedy and timing before putting it on its feet (or even on the page). This isn't the ultimate work to explore the inner lives of two of the most iconic golden-age Hollywood stars -- or of the sexism that came with the territory -- but it's a damn good place to start. Now we can all just wonder what Debra Messing might have done in the role.

Captain Marvel (2019)

Score: 3.5 / 5

The year is 1995 and we find ourselves in Kree space. Brie Larson (who goes by at least three names in this movie, so let's just call her Larson) is a member of the Starforce, tasked with rescuing an undercover agent among their enemies, the Skrull. Overwhelmed with the nomenclature yet? Add in a Flerken, other characters with multiple names and alliances, and the mysterious powers of the Tesseract, and you've got Captain Marvel, the latest MCU flick that is at once a great reminder of the genius of this franchise and a mild disappointment to fans of the recent franchise turns.

Let's start with the positive: It's a lot of fun. Some of the laughs are forced and the spectacle can be cheap, but it's awfully pretty to look at. And, for a hero with rather unspecific powers (kind of like Vision, who shares Larson's Infinity-Stone-given powers), it's probably okay to simply show her swathed in an aura of bright light. Do we really need to understand her powers? We might want to, but the reality is that she'll serve as a sort of quasi-savior in Avengers: Endgame, so her salvific powers can be a bit too awesome for our comprehension.

While the names and titles can all get a bit muddled, the essence of the film is not unlike that of Winter Soldier, with shifting alliances and secret infiltrations and a massive shift in our expectations of who really are the "good guys." Of course, we see it coming miles off, and that's because of the narrative simplicity here. In fact, the straightforward earnestness of this movie -- its determination to craft a standalone heroic entry, introduce a character, and feature no small amount of girl power -- is almost rousing. It feels like a spiritual sister to the first Iron Man and Captain America as a solid, old-fashioned origin story. And that's fine.

Much more better are its bankable stars doing admirable work. Though Larson's badassery isn't served well by a script that all but flatlines her dramatic arc, her physicality challenges that of the men in this franchise, and her hair beats out Thor's by a landslide. Samuel L. Jackson gets to sort-of co-star this time around, and his Nick Fury has been digitally de-aged in a pretty cool way. Clark Gregg, Djimon Hounsou, and Lee Pace return in minor parts as characters they've played before, which is a lot of fun and provides fodder for fans who like to tie together elements from across the franchise. We also get Jude Law and Ben Mendelsohn as the leaders of their respective Kree and Skrull soldiers, which is fun except that Mendelsohn's makeup looks like a Halloween mask and he sounds like he's speaking through prosthetic lips (which he is).

My favorite addition is Annette Bening as Mar-Vell, a fantastic use of gender-swapping much like Tilda Swinton's in Doctor Strange. She gets much better screen time and dynamic drama than Glenn Close did as Nova Prime (still bitter about that), and she's electrifying to behold.

You might have noticed my ambivalence about some of these positives, and they only strengthen my overall disappointment with this installment. It's a solid origin story, reasonably entertaining, and easy to follow. The dialogue can get clunky, her powers aren't really understandable, the effects are often wasteful, but its shallow sense of nostalgia kind of helps us link this movie mentally with the very first installments of the franchise. I mean, when the climax sneaks up on you without your awareness, it's a hint the pacing is just all wrong; when the climax involves the hero flying through a warship and it starts exploding/melting around her, it might be time to rethink the logic of what a climax needs to be.

But, as this is the MCU's first time letting a woman headline a film, it's just shameful that they played it so safely. Gone are the visual inventions of Doctor Strange and Ant-Man, the narrative ingenuity of Thor: Ragnarok and Infinity War, the cultural relevance of Black Panther. If it's a game-changer to have a woman headline a superhero film, why isn't Captain Marvel a game-changer as a film? I can't help but think this is just too little too late. Again, that's not to say it's not welcome! It just doesn't fit in with the films of its ilk released in the last couple of years.

Plus, it doesn't help that its placement completely undercuts all claims to feminism MCU might stake. Captain Marvel is a placeholder, a dull lengthy introduction to the climax of the entire franchise. Not only is she the last cog in the great big machine, but she's literally being used by the studio to generate inclusive interest before what will surely be the biggest opening ever for a movie. She may be a savior, but she's being used as such by Marvel/Disney execs, and that's just annoying.

Then again, if that mid-credits heartbreaker of a scene is any indication of the drama she'll elicit in Endgame, I may have to revisit this critique.