Fatale (2020)

 Score: 2.5 / 5

A sleek and stylish new erotic thriller? Strong aesthetic references to genre roots of the '80s? Plot twists and sexy costumes? A stunning trio of gorgeous actors? And did I mention Hilary Swank -- who has only supported in a bizarre smattering of movies in the last decade -- as the titular femme fatale? Yes, please!

Or, rather, mostly. It's yet another Deon Taylor movie in all the bittersweet senses that credit evokes. I've actually enjoyed the other two movies of his I've seen (Supremacy and Black and Blue), though I'd never rave about them, and I've not really been interested in any others. It's not, I think, that he's a bad director in any falsely objective way, but his vision is usually limited to visual sensation, or as Romeo's friar might say, violent delights. Here, his sleek aesthetic manifests in eyeballing beauty: of his actors, their clothes, their cars, their houses. He follows the all-too familiar plot with a languid, luxurious pace, hoping to draw us with its lurid pleasures. And when the action hits, it hits hard.

The story concerns Derrick (Michael Ealy), a successful sports agent who has a one-night stand with Val (Hilary Swank) while at a bachelor party in Vegas. She's a little spooky, something that clearly intrigues Derrick, even when, attempting to leave at dawn, he discovers she locked his cell phone in the room safe and won't return it unless he gets back in bed. Not long after returning home, Derrick and his wife (Damaris Lewis) are attacked by a home invader. It's a surprisingly violent scene, but things turn worse once the detective assigned to the case shows up. It's Val, and she is not happy that he's married. What happens in Vegas, apparently, doesn't always stay in Vegas.

From here on out, the soapy melodramatic revelations and twists come quickly and without too much consequence. The more I tried to involve myself with the plot, the more I found it dizzying, especially when another affair is revealed involving Derrick's best friend Rafe (Mike Colter, who really deserved a better role). Other messy sequences include Val being attacked by Derrick's cousin with a criminal history, or Val stalking her ex-husband and their daughter, vying to reclaim custody. Thankfully, Swank is up to the bizarre task and manages to keep things grounded, when camping it up would have been a tempting choice. Steely and wicked, her menacing presence is fascinating, even and especially when the unfocused screenplay tries to make us sympathize with her. These scenes, however, do less to help our perception of her character than they make her appear even more unstable, especially when they are paired with her flashbacks of being drunk and endangering her daughter.

Ultimately, Fatale is fun if you like this sort of sleazy thing, but it never really manages to supply what it promised. There is very little actual sex and only a few effective thrills, which doesn't make for much of an erotic thriller. Taylor keeps things moving along between gorgeous houses and offices, shot beautifully by Dante Spinotti, and it's all entertaining enough for a cold, wintry day. I liked it better than the last erotic thriller I remember seeing, Acrimony, but I'd certainly like a more satisfying entry in the genre sometime soon!

The Hunt (2020)

Score: 3.5 / 5

One of the most complex and controversial movies of our age has finally been released and nobody knows what to make of it.

A group of strangers awaken in an unfamiliar forest, locked into their gags, in broad daylight. Fighting panic, they gather in a small clearing around a large wooden box that feels like something between The Hunger Games cornucopia and the plane at the beginning of Lost. The opened box contains a wealth of weapons (along with a pig that might as well scream Lord of the Flies) that the confused and now excited people claim for themselves. Suddenly and violently, they are attacked by bullets from unseen assailants and run for cover, hoping to avoid the booby traps around them. Once they scatter, one by one they begin to realize they are being hunted, and the hunting grounds are being watched by drones, radio waves, and people in disguise. But humans, it would seem for those who don't already know, are the most dangerous game.

So what the heck is this much-maligned movie all about? What was it that made Trump paranoid and angry enough to tweet about it (even though, at that time last summer, no one had seen the damn thing yet)? What was it really that caused Universal to delay its release over half a year? Well, the basic premise is that these people being hunted are conservatives; their hunters are liberals. But labels here are more important than any basic human element -- in a story that works by dehumanizing people, the only things that matter are ideas and ideals -- and this isn't a story about normal people of certain political persuasions. These are distinct caricatures of extremists, all murderously angry about the state of the union, all frighteningly eager to enact the vitriolic hatred they spew onto social media. Sure, the MAGA-supporting "deplorables" are nominally the victims here and the wealthy, condescending "elite" seem to be the villains, but that's only a means to pit the two groups together. It could just as easily work the other way around, and there would be no thematic difference.

I find the beginning of the movie to be sorely miswritten and misdirected, because the opening two scenes paint broad pictures without allowing us time to think through the ideas puked out at us. We begin behind a shadowy figure leading a group text -- it's Hilary Swank's voice -- that coolly references a Manor, a Hunt, and deplorables. We have little context to all this, but we're immediately sure that these are "liberal" folk callously preparing to do bad things. We shift suddenly to a luxury jet in which caricatured liberals are contentedly served with caviar and booze, en route to this Hunt with some drugged, unconscious conservative people are stashed in with the baggage. One of these wakes up, staggers out asking for help before being slaughtered in the main plane cabin. It's more gruesome than funny, but because we don't really know what's happening we have little choice but to chuckle.

But after the scene with the pig, the box, the weapons, and the first murder of the Hunt, the movie kicks into what it's really about. It's a skillfully delivered thriller, designed to capture its absurdist black humor and extravagant gore from a perspective of surprisingly accessible neutrality. The cinematography and editing are grounded, tight, and clear, often so much so that I would pause and wonder if the whole movie was meant to be in earnest. But with the constant stream of hashtag-jargon and meme-worthy soundbytes coming from the archetypal characters and the constant Eli Roth-esque splattering of blood, you're reminded fairly often that this is the way we often treat the Internet, too. As a deplorable runs for his life, he eagerly spits out his disdain for refugees; as an elite prepares to murder someone, he is criticized for cultural appropriation and micro-aggressions. Some people take everything as a joke (until it's clearly not), while others take everything seriously (and eventually make fools of themselves). So much is lost when we forsake open and curious communication.

Which is, no doubt, writer Damon Lindelof's primary axe to grind here. It is no coincidence that his (again, nominal) victims here are angry trolls on the Internet who have spread hate and cruelty though chat rooms and comment sections, fueled by their insane conspiracy theories. Lindelof's magnificent work has been repeatedly maligned online by angry fans who essentially forced him off Twitter after Lost and before The Leftovers allowed him to prophesy our cultural future. This movie isn't Lindelof at his best, but perhaps his most dangerous: he effortlessly captures the kind of humor you see on SNL and repurposes it into a stew of dryly funny horror that he serves up with his typically self-aware dialogue and thrilling twisty narrative.

Lindelof places a woman named Crystal at the center of his story as the most mysterious character I've seen on film in a long time; that is, she is hard as the gem, if nowhere near as crystal-clear. Once she shows up -- seemingly she was one of the abducted and now hunted -- we know she's in it to survive. Ex-military and especially good at hand-to-hand combat, she seems coded as a conservative. Betty Gilpin plays Crystal with as much muscle and sass as you could hope for: she's as cool and quiet as classic-era Eastwood but ekes out jaw-droppingly brilliant moments of comedy with a simple jerk of an eyebrow or tilt of her head, an unwillingness to look at (or care?) about the people around her, and a strangely high-pitched sound occasionally escaping her otherwise locked jaw. She's cool and badass and utterly unreadable.

Especially at the end, and this is where I'll leave it all. While Crystal remains a mystery, a few things happen to complicate matters, especially when she finally confronts Athena (Hilary Swank), the leader of the Hunters, and surprises her with a few tidbits about herself. Namely, that she is far more educated than expected -- her practical application of Orwell's Animal Farm to her newly met adversary is truly chilling -- and that she was mistakenly abducted in place of the intended victim. Moreover, the climax, which consists of a brilliantly choreographed and photographed fight scene, includes a huge twist I absolutely did not see coming. And by the denouement, I was so hopelessly lost in the complicated implications of this apocalypse that I still have no idea if there is even a discernible moral to The Hunt. Other than, I guess, don't be an asshole?

Logan Lucky (2017)

Score: 4 / 5

Thank heaven Steven Soderbergh is back.

And what a way to reappear! After his fabulous (and supposedly final) film, Behind the Candelabra, in 2013, I mourned his self-imposed retirement. But it seems we've gotten lucky, as the title of his new film suggests, because Soderbergh's killer style has returned as well. Logan Lucky is his exercise in re-announcing himself, and while it isn't the most original piece of film this summer, it might be the most grounded, accessible, and downright classy comedy of the year.

Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum in yet another excellent starring role), a hardworking man living long after his high school glory days are over, just got fired from his job. Apparently he hadn't disclosed his limp, a "pre-existing condition" that is discovered to be a liability for his construction company employers. When he learns that his ex-wife, now married to a wealthy car salesman with less smarts than dollars, plans to move farther away with his beloved daughter in tow, Jimmy desperately searches for a solution. Using his construction-job-related knowledge of an underground vault beneath a Charlotte racetrack, he enlists his family and acquaintances to help him with a great big heist.

After assembling his team -- including one-handed brother (Adam Driver), sister (Mellie), incarcerated explosives expert aptly named Joe Bang (Daniel Craig), and his two idiot brothers -- Logan embarks on his plan. Soderbergh deftly takes us through the action without wasting a single instant on exposition. No plans are dissembled on screen; we just see the expert skills and brilliant schematics in motion as they are executed. That's about as streamlined as you can get, and it is so effective we hardly waste a moment wondering if they can pull it off. They just do it.

There are a few sidelined plots that add time onto the movie, including romantic intrigue in the form of Katherine Waterston and a bizarre racing team made of Seth MacFarlane and Sebastian Stan. Most affecting is Logan's daughter, preparing for her debut in a West Virginia pageant, and when Jimmy makes it back to see her perform, her sweet little singing voice stirs the spirit. The movie's ending takes a bit longer than I would have liked, stretching beyond the climax by introducing new characters and developing new mini-arcs. That is, an FBI team investigates the heist, and even when its agent (Hilary Swank, doing some really weird vocal thing and keeping her Mephistophelean eyebrows arched) is told the case is closed, continues her hunt. But never fear: The film ends before anything bad happens to our antiheroes. Of course, as with Magic Mike, it seems Soderbergh leaves the door wide open for someone to come in and make a sequel.

So, in case you didn't gather, it's essentially a de-glitzed reimagining of Ocean's Eleven. These aren't high-stakes Las Vegas games, and the interplay of sex and fashion isn't even a concern. Lucky features disabled, low- to no-income people with difficult lives and complex relationships. The Logan family, though remarkably resourceful and intelligent, don't put on airs and don't worry about appearances. It's all real to them, so it's real to us. That's what Soderbergh does with the film, too: Lucky never pretends to be something it's not, preferring to take pleasure in its own idiosyncratic rhythms. It's not a far cry from some Coen brothers films, actually, with its particular attention to a specific culture, oddball characters, and good-natured humor. Of course, its wisecracking sharp comedy is no less fabulous, and Adam Driver steals more than his share of scenes with pitch-perfect timing and hilariously awkward delivery. I don't know who writer Rebecca Blunt is, but she's welcome to come back into my ears anytime.

IMDb: Logan Lucky