The Secret Garden (2020)

 Score: 1.5 / 5

It's the same story we all know, adapted by a brilliant writer in a completely rote way, and I just cannot figure out why anyone thought this movie would be a good idea. There have been so many adaptations of Frances Hodgson Burnett's novel in the last century, most of which are indistinguishable from each other. Writer Jack Thorne's ability to craft something fresh and interesting out of the familiar (Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, The Aeronauts, Radioactive, Wonder, His Dark Materials) here manifests as something completely beyond the scope of the source material. That is to say, in a now-cliché story about overcoming grief by tending the garden of life, this ill-intentioned adaptation turns the titular garden into an actual magical place.

It's a Narnia -- or, perhaps, Terabithia -- for orphaned Mary Lennox and her new friends Dickon and Colin. As they enter its vine-covered walls, the light changes and colors enhance, and before we can say "CGI" they're running through the paths as impossibly large flowers burst into bloom around them. I half-expected the petals to have faces and burst into song, a la Wonderland, so strongly was the drug-induced aura of the scene. Why work on interpersonal skills, proper British etiquette in manicured lawns, or even dealing with grief when you can be so easily distracted by fae robins leading you away from your troubles. Even when the dog is injured, it's the garden that miraculously heals it, right before our eyes. Any sense of wonder or mystery is hamstringed by the film's indulgence of pretty but vapid animation. 

Even the reliable Colin Firth and Julie Walters are given next-to-nothing to do, as director Marc Munden obsessively follows the children around. If they aren't frolicking through yellow and green woodlands, they're sneaking through Archibald Craven's Gothic manor, so thickly atmospheric it feels ripped from a different movie altogether. Whereas other versions lean into the human tragedies of this story, allowing us to really understand the pain and torment these lonely adults suffer, this movie forces Firth to gaze out from sunken eyes in a pallid face, trying desperately to Act, giving us the impression of an old man in the throes of bereavement after his late wife's lengthy illness.

Much as it does with the dog, the garden magically helps Colin, Craven's bedridden son, to walk. While this is perhaps a more ambiguous development, the precedent has already been set by the time Mary and Dickon spirit her cousin to the garden. Instead of allowing these characters real, dynamic growth, the movie denies both children and adults the ability to cultivate affection, putting them through alternating scenes of self-torment, indignation, and escape. And if you think I'm being too harsh, take a look at the almost camp quality of the climax, when -- spoiler alert -- Craven "accidentally" lights his own house on fire. In the (lack of) ensuing chaos, he tries to find his son, who is of course in the garden and not in the house; when Mary leads him to the garden to see Colin walking, the movie skips any articulate resolution or reconciliation between the two and assumes, through visual shorthand, that we understand their relationship is suddenly cured. Another magic trick of the garden? Who cares?

I do not understand why any studio would greenlight another production of The Secret Garden if it is not to finally adapt the musical to screen. Nobody wants yet another child-focused "drama" of the same story.

Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

Score: 5 / 5

Mary Poppins Returns, and in a big way. Even for someone who was never a big fan of the 1964 original film, this long-delayed sequel is an amazing movie experience. In fact, I liked this one so much that I'll be revisiting the original with a much lighter disposition. The Broadway musical was great, but this film exploded any and all expectations I had for the character and franchise.

The story takes place twentyish years after the original, when young Michael Banks (Ben Whishaw) has lost his wife and now fathers three adorable motherless children. Helped by his sister Jane (Emily Mortimer), though she's quite busy organizing labor activism, and their housekeeper Ellen (Julie Walters), Michael works for Fidelity Fiduciary Bank and has squashed his artistic aspirations in favor of making ends meet. Yet his dreams do not survive the Great Depression, and the Bank's greedy president (Colin Firth) threatens to take the Banks home.

Remembering their father owned shares in the bank, the Bankses frantically search for proof, and in comes Mary Poppins, floating in on the kite that ended the original film. Emily Blunt is utterly magnificent as the iconic character, at once vain and proper but bubbling over with magical joy. Director Rob Marshall seems infected by this energy, and this movie becomes a sort of sensory overload in the best possible way, forcing you to forget about your troubles and simply enjoy the endless pleasures offered. It's a spoonful of sugar, and then some: vivid colors, mesmerizing effects, glorious dancing, and gorgeous costumes are matched by a score that could have been written by the original musicians. I was tapping along to songs I've never heard before, and humming them as I jaunted out of the theater. That is some damn good movie magic.

Yes, the cast is brilliant and yes the film is a masterclass in what Disney can get so, so right. But what struck me and stuck with me was the absolute genius of this film. Structurally, it is Mary Poppins. The original. Instead of sweeps, we have lamplighters who dance, yes, but underground instead of on the roofs. We have Mary's first number not with cleaning the nursery but with cleaning the children themselves. We have cousin Topsy (Meryl Streep) whose home spins around her, rather than Uncle Albert who floats around his home. We have a chipped china bowl to adventure within, not a chalk painting before the rain. We have balloons instead of kites, given by none other than Angela Lansbury. And Dick Van Dyke shows up for one of the most purely entertaining moments I've ever seen on screen.

If it all sounds like a cheap ripoff -- and it does -- fret not! Nothing here is cheap or forced. In fact, it's all done with such an eye for authentic nostalgia that it even won me over. Unlike The Force Awakens that relied on forced nostalgia and plastered fan service, this movie is a pure work of fans for fans and for everyone else. It's a celebration of childhood, of beauty and creativity, and there's not a moment I wanted the movie to end.

I have absolutely no complaints about this movie except that it did, unfortunately, end. It's pure and sweet and fun and creative and intelligent and everything you could possibly want. We can only hope Mary Poppins will be back.

IMDb: Mary Poppins Returns

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (2018)

Score: 4.5 / 5

It may be a decade late, but Here We Go Again is a nearly perfect companion piece to the magnificent film adaptation of Mamma Mia! Everyone comes back for round two, which feels like a hardcore labor of love for everyone involved. And while it's nowhere near as infectiously joyful as the first film, this sequel has a passionate heart to share with people who felt a sequel was unnecessary, irrelevant, and potentially disastrous.

The story is simple enough. Five years after the first film, Donna has died and Sophie is grandly reopening the hotel on Kalokairi. Her anxiety peaks as her relationship with Sky is on the rocks and two of her dads may not make it to the party. Her efforts to reopen the hotel are presented in episodes that flash back and forth to 25 years prior, as young Donna made her way to the island in search of life and love. Sophie learns to increasingly appreciate her mother's strength, perseverance, and passion, even while recognizing that she is not her mother.

The film this time around is, of course, more somber, as the melancholy awareness of Meryl Streep's absence is keenly felt in the film. But Lily James makes a fabulous turn as young Donna, singing and dancing her way into the movie in a big way. Thematically, this film is more concerned with motherhood and sisterhood and womanly independence than the first, which revolved largely around men and female identity as it relates to men. Sophie constantly compares herself to her mother, wondering if she can "do this" and how she's upholding a legacy. But, as the ensemble cast helps her learn, Sophie is woman enough to succeed on her own.

The smattering of old songs helps keep the new ones (some I was woefully ignorant of) upbeat and joyous, as the film tends to delve into the thicker thickets of emotional resonance than the first film. And while, as a romantic comedy, Mamma Mia will never really succeed beyond representing older people finding love, as a movie musical, Here We Go Again is a rapturous exercise in how fabulous a sequel can be when executed properly.

When Cher shows up, the movie brings the house down. When Meryl shows up...well, let's just say I'm still not recovered from that.

IMDb: Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool (2017)

Score: 4 / 5

I'm not sure we wanted a movie about Gloria Grahame. She was never that great, always in Marilyn Monroe's shadow on screen and in life, and there's that icky story about her affair with her 13-year-old stepson. But here we are, and thankfully this film follows the true-to-life account of Peter Turner's affair with the aging actress in a manner not unlike My Week with Marilyn. It's a sweet, warm, and ultimately sappily sentimental picture about love, death, and legacy, and that's all it needs to be.

Of course, it's helmed by Annette Bening who, as usual, shines brilliantly as Grahame, with her affected, lilting voice and lingering eyes. Countering her is Jamie Bell as Turner in what might be his best performance yet (certainly his sexiest!). Theirs is a sordid love story, rote and often banal in this film, one that heavily relies on clichés to finish the job. There are also a surprising amount of mommy issues in this picture; while that invites Julie Walters and Vanessa Redgrave in for supporting roles, it didn't do much to endear the characters to this viewer.

As a film about art and the tireless effort of artists to do what they love, I enjoyed it. As a film about an unlikely love affair between a mostly unlikable, conceited older woman and and endlessly likable, confident and giving younger man, I found it problematic but pleasing to watch. As a historical account of Grahame's last days, I don't know and I don't care about its accuracy. I'd be remiss not to praise director Paul McGuigan (Sherlock, Victor Frankenstein, Luke Cage), however, for some amazing work, as well as the cinematographer for the same: My favorite moments occur when the narrative jumps through time in a single take, as Turner walks through a door and the light changes and the scene changes but there are no editing cuts. Those were lovely.

It would be a charming movie to watch on a date, at night, in a beach house maybe or after a warm Italian dinner; it's just sweet and simple and, yes, pretty damn sad.

IMDb: Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool

Brooklyn (2015)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Brooklyn so completely transports its audience into another time and place that we feel a rapturous catharsis with a young woman who discovers herself and, more importantly, achieves what she wants for her own life. It's a beautiful excursion, with detail and culture oozing out of every surface, intent on realizing the journey of an Irish immigrant in the middle of the last century. And realize it it does, though perhaps in less effective ways than some of us might have preferred.

First things first. Bravo to yet another strong woman-led drama this year, showing us (as Carol did) exactly how to properly center a movie around a woman with real emotions, real strength, and who faces real issues. Also like Carol, this film's production design is transcendent, intricate, and detailed in the best possible ways, given a perfect amount of attention so that it neither distracts from the story nor lies ignored in the background.

Saoirse Ronan is dazzling as the lead woman, Eilis, who leaves her home in Ireland to find a new life in America. We see her grow from a frightened girl to a confident and autonomous woman, and Ronan's nuances and subtlety is a marvel to witness. She is never less than pure, a performance that is always vulnerable, raw, and honest, so much so that in our age of dark and duplicitous antiheroes, she reads almost like a heroine from a bygone age of children's fairytales. Emory Cohen matches her almost perfectly, and his slight Italian inflection casts as romantic a spell on the viewer as it does Ronan's character. No other performances in the film really matter, though most are fairly solid, and the couple of scenes with Jim Broadbent and Julie Walters steal the movie away. Domhnall Gleeson shows up near the end as a pathetic excuse for a dangerous plot device, but thankfully his poor presence is short-lived and ineffectual.

I've made a few references liking Brooklyn to the other big romantic drama this season, but unlike Carol, this film has little in the way of intrigue. In fact, I was distinctly disappointed as I left the theater because I felt as though I had just sat through a glorified Hallmark special. A sort of high-caliber, polished-for-awards-season sticky-sweet romantic melodrama with no complexities, no novelties, and no reason to remember it after the fact. The story is rote, the characters broad (except our lead), and we've seen the period before. I'm not really sure, then, why this film was necessary, nor why it has received the acclaim it has. I can't deny the aesthetic power of the film, and frankly its unrelenting optimism and hope is infectious (and distinctly rare in dramas, to my knowledge), but I found the script to be weak, the performances both hit and miss, and the themes to be so watered down that every time Brooklyn tried too hard to pull at my heartstrings, I slapped it back with a guffaw and waited for it to get smart. It didn't.

IMDb: Brooklyn

Harry Potter 1 & 2

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001)
Score: 4 / 5

By far the most successful element of this film (and the whole cinematic franchise) is its cast. How Rowling's fledgling wizarding world managed to charm an A-list supporting cast (who further deign to take backseat to a lead ensemble of untried children) is beyond me. Maggie Smith heroically dons McGonagall's emerald robe with biting style and a lot of heart. Alan Rickman perfectly embodies the sour Snape, complete with grim theatricality and slippery sass. Richard Harris nobly steps into Dumbledore's shoes with elegance, though his delivery feels neither as witty nor as eccentric as Rowling's Headmaster; interestingly, he sympathizes with rather than warns the students who could die in the third-floor corridor. Other shining stars include John Hurt (Ollivander), Zoe Wanamaker (as a brilliantly designed Madame Hooch), John Cleese (Nearly Headless Nick), David Bradley (a twisted, icky Filch), Julie Walters (Molly Weasley), Warwick Davis (Flitwick), Ian Hart (as a particularly fabulous Quirrell), and Richard Griffiths and Fiona Shaw (Vernon and Petunia Dursley).

Besides this truly amazing cast, we are presented with total unknowns in an ensemble of fresh Hogwarts students who immediately steal our hearts. Daniel Radcliffe dominates as the titular protagonist with intelligence and heart. Emma Watson matches his every moment with perfect delivery and strength. Rupert Grint follows their lead -- but only slightly -- with incredible facials and impeccable timing. This triumvirate of adolescent power carries the film as if they were the world's best actors in another life. Also noteworthy are the delightful Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom) and Devon Murray (Seamus Finnigan), as well as the charmingly sneering Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy). We can only imagine what working with these children (and introducing them to the world of blockbuster cinema) was like for the cast and crew.

Beautiful costumes adorn our lovely cast, and they inhabit a stunningly realized castle. Vibrant colors, intriguing shapes, and fresh designs make the sets and costumes palpably tactile. Lighting in the film highlights these elements, and adds to the colorful visuals in stunning and iconic fashion; pause the movie and at any given moment, the lights (and how they play off the set and costumes) will tell you all you need to know. The camera, however, does not serve the film as well as these other elements: its straightforward, simplistic approach seems out of place in context. The score, sets, acting, dialogue, costumes, and lights have opinions on the subject matter, so the camera should too. Especially during the first forty minutes, ineffective editing adds to the two-and-a-half-hours running time with redundancy, sometimes using two or three shots for a single image.

A brief note on the score. Legendary musician John Williams hits it out of the park in a breathtaking musical experience that feels especially inspired when contrasted with Star Wars, Jurassic Park, and Indiana Jones. But, like those films, the score here feels dangerously powerful. Whereas a rousing theme piece in an action film often works well, here it can be distracting. That's not to say I don't listen to the soundtrack independently all the time; it's to say that a strong score can threaten a film's cohesive effect if mishandled.

The Quidditch match is the movie's best sequence. Its brilliant pacing and editing, tense humor and action, and self-sustaining energy make it endlessly entertaining. Excerpted from the film, it stands alone as a blueprint for how to film a sports scene, complete with melodrama and fast but focused camerawork. Exciting and inventive, it serves as a masterful centerpiece to the film. Though it arguably serves a symbolic purpose in Harry's coming-of-age narrative, I find Columbus's emphasis of this particular sequence concerning. Its prominence in the film overshadows the real heart of Harry's story, and highlights the director's ambiguous estimate of who he wants his audience to be.

Sorcerer's Stone is a cautious (if creative) adaptation of Rowling's novel, and underneath its colorful spectacle lies a rigidly traditional frame. Seemingly in his effort to accommodate cinephiles as well as Rowling fans, Columbus sacrifices courageous artistry in favor of simpler, gentler filmmaking. In doing so, he barely masks his own uncertainty about the thematic core of his story. Most of the film feels like an attempt at direct translation, with little or no artistic identity of its own (even the creativity in bringing Rowling's descriptions to life fears straying from her tale). My only thought that tempers this criticism is that, at the time of filming, Rowling had only published four books in the series; Columbus exhibited laudable (if somewhat exploitative) initiative in crafting this popular project when its creator had yet to complete her vision.

IMDb: The Sorcerer's Stone

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Chris Columbus and his team rectify almost all their previous mistakes with this second venture into the wizarding world. In fact, Chamber of Secrets surpasses the first installment in almost every way, including its hefty running time (it is the longest film of all eight, though the second shortest book). Columbus bravely presents the film in slightly darker tones, gently introducing shadows where previously we saw sparkles; though he may not have known it, this inspired each subsequent director to similarly darken the images and filter out bright colors. Fitting, because Harry's world is not always one of warm, vivid lights, even in Rowling's description.

As the cast is largely the same, I won't repeat the praises. Richard Harris's performance is stronger, while the children are slightly weaker in more recycled behaviors; perhaps Columbus gave them freer reign or less direct attention, thinking that their raving audiences would take whatever was given them. The new additions to the cast are heavenly. A spirited Julie Walters reappears as Molly Weasley, but this time is accompanied by the very funny Mark Williams as her husband Arthur. Jason Isaacs commands his presence as Lucius Malfoy with wicked glee, and Shirley Henderson hilariously brings Moaning Myrtle to life (or something like that). Toby Jones memorably voices Dobby the House-elf; keeping in mind that 2002 also saw Gollum brought to glorious life in The Two Towers, Dobby is happily an independent creation that charms his way onto the screen. Of course, the gold prize must be given to Kenneth Branagh, who oozes fabulous ferocity as the charmingly nauseating Gilderoy Lockhart.

In a somewhat surprising and immensely effective move, Columbus injects a lot of (mostly queer) sexual imagery and symbols into the film; their presence is undeniable, though attributing them all to Columbus is perhaps undue. He obviously worked with actor Christian Coulson to craft a memorable, imposing, and not a little homoerotic character in Tom Marvolo Riddle. His sly interest in Harry culminates in a suggestive and highly symbolic climax in the titular cavern under the school, and their wildly complicated interaction makes for one of the most intriguing and intelligent character choices in the franchise. And the Quidditch match, though not quite as masterful as in the previous film, heightens the ambiguous tension between Harry and Draco, which culminates in their subversive encounter while Harry is under the influence of Polyjuice Potion.

Besides the remarkable character creativity, Columbus continues to excel in building sets. The Burrow is an endearing addition to the beginning of the movie, as is the wonderful and brief gaze into Knockturn Alley. Dumbledore's magnificent office stands out as stunningly realized in its intricate detail. Unfortunately, though, the score is not as successful. While it isn't as overbearing as in the first film, it also feels generally repeated (with a few lovely exceptions). Familiar themes are important, but even some moments in the film induce déjà vu solely because of the music.

The spider sequence is arguably the best in the film. The excellent, atmospheric background music and excellent special effects bring the monsters to haunting animation. Quite different from the novel, the whole scene is inventive and fresh. Harry and Ron step through a spider-infested tunnel, large hairy legs follow them through the forest, and Aragog is one impressive animatronic. Radcliffe and Grint impressively lead the action, and though computer-generated creatures dominate the visuals, the camera maintains its control and focus. The chase, from spiders descending upon our heroes to the flying Ford Anglia bowling them over, is taut and riveting. It remains one of the best giant spider sequences in any film, and gives me shivers every time I think on it.

IMDb: The Chamber of Secrets