Damsel (2024)

Score: 1.5 / 5

What in the made-for-television hooey is this? The era of exciting feminist reclamation sorely missteps with Damsel, a bizarre attempt at a twisted typical fantasy trope. Opening narration spoils the whole thing, letting us know explicitly that there will be a damsel, she'll be in distress, and she'll be rescuing herself, thank you very much. But the overwrought and annoyingly vague story, here, makes this entire exercise less an empowering cinematic experience than a mildly diverting bedtime story that could have been written on any free fanfiction website. Worse, it's far less than the sum of its parts, a glaring problem that constantly reminds us of its own inadequacies.

Titular protagonist Elodie, played by Millie Bobby Brown (who really should take some acting classes to branch out of her Winona Ryder-esque range of moody adolescent indignation), accepts an invitation to marry the prince of a faraway land called Aurea. Seemingly doing so to help her impoverished, unnamed snowy home -- where they sell drapes for food, a plot hole I will never understand -- Elodie and her family travel to the warmer, wealthier Aurea; her father (Ray Winstone) and mother (Angela Bassett) are woefully wasted characters who serve no real purpose, while Elodie's younger sister Floria (Brooke Carter) will prove the damsel in distress in the film's long-coming second act. Upon their arrival, Elodie and her betrothed charming Prince Henry (a clearly bored Nick Robinson) are cool towards each other, though they soon enough warm to the idea. Meanwhile, his mother, Queen Isabelle (a reliably icy Robin Wright) outright rejects the friendship of her new in-laws under the guise of matriarchal rule.

While the production design and wardrobe feel like a feast for the eyes, it also feels unmoored and uninspired throughout the film. Dodgy CGI and green screen settings are the name of the game in this fantasy romp, and multiple times this film felt visually like it belonged in television shows from the last decade (I thought of Once Upon a Time and Merlin, among others, more than once). That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for a film like this to be taken at all seriously -- which it patently desperately desires -- you can't have this cartoonish quality framing your action or drama. Director Juan Carols Fresnadillo (whose filmography is interesting but wildly unfit for this kind of project) doesn't seem to have purposeful understanding of how to present this material to any audience, let alone the Netflix crowd. Even thematically, the film makes far more suggestions than it ever satisfies: early, as Elodie is being fitted into her bridal gown, it's not a Cinderella moment of rags-to-glam, but this intriguing divergence from expectations is never explored beyond her own eventual gumption in fighting back.

The film dramatically shifts when, during a weird post-marital ceremony on a stone bridge above a cavernous abyss, the two newlyweds share their blood (it's not sex, unless you read a LOT into Grimms' fairytales) and Henry casts Elodie into the pit. She's the latest in a long string of female victims sacrificed to an enormous dragon in the cave for, apparently, centuries: an ancestral king of Aurea killed the dragon's babies and so the dragon seeks eternal recompense in the form of virginal descendants of his line in return for not destroying the kingdom. Despite this elaborate and unnecessary setup (there is a prologue of sorts that dramatizes this inciting incident, revisited by flashbacks anon), the film does not teeter further into fantasy at this point, rather engaging its action sensibilities as Elodie runs and ducks and hides in the labyrinthine caverns while being stalked by the dragon.

The dragon itself is well-designed and mostly well-animated, voiced with breathtaking skill by Shohreh Aghdashloo, whose smokey resonance gravelly brings the beast to life. She's not to be trifled with, and her predatory menace is the only thing that makes this film worth watching. Oddly, the film is structured in such a way that, once the monarchy's ruse is revealed, we are made to feel sorry for the dragon, a bizarre sensation that never amounts to much. Attempting to distract from the dragon is Elodie, though, tearing her dress apart to fashion tools and weapons while looking suspiciously stylish in a tattered sort of way. Her antics lead her to a wall of names of previous (deceased) princesses, who clearly had time and energy to sign their Jane Hancocks for no apparent reason; she also discovers a cave of glowing worms who light her path and also heal her wounds. Because nothing says incompetent screenwriting like multiple deus ex machinas less than halfway through your story! Not to mention the entire premise, which simply does not follow: the king of old killed three dragon eggs, but the dragon has now killed dozens (if not hundreds) of maidens?

For most of its middle section, the film grinds on more like a video game, as Elodie works and tries and fails and tries again to escape the cave, defeat the dragon, retain her health, etc. She is grimly determined and badass in the manner of a Tomb Raider type character who is neither prepared nor trained for this, making the whole thing increasingly unbelievable and utterly devoid of stakes. Other characters start popping into the cave, which allows more action and death at the cost of further absurdity and narrative gimmicks. Add to all that the finale's tired final message of sisterhood above all and healing the enemy to foster alliance, and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. A reasonably competent film -- even one as far-fetched and often outright laughable as this -- can't always overcome a story without enough inspiration, craft, or nerve to follow through on any of its potential intrigues (mind you, this was penned by Dan Mazeau, whose only other feature writing credits are the criminally badly written Wrath of the Titans and Fast X), and this one simply tries too hard to be something it never takes the effort to define for itself.

P.S.: Since simply bashing isn't as helpful or thoughtful as I try to be, I'll note as a final thought my idea for a better film. Reformat the story as a medieval horror film, shot on location in a crumbling Carpathian castle. Increase the "weird fantasy" elements -- a la Gretel & Hansel but with more gritty action -- and dress it all with creepy, dark Gothic style a la The Castle of Otranto, considering the adolescent sexuality and bloodsharing and political angling inherent in its conceit. We wouldn't have even needed a dragon; use Aghdashloo's presence as a witch or spirit of the forest or even a stupid cave, a presence of malice playing with young girls swept into this world they don't know or understand their own significance in. Rewrite it as a real feminist existential horror story so that Elodie coming into her own to burn down the monarchy (literally) actually feels earned. That way, too, its derivative basis (clearly meant to be something like Andromeda being fed to the Kraken) would be sidestepped and it could actually be a novel piece. Hell, even a Gothic thriller about a queen trying manipulate three girls into marrying her son at the same time to satiate a monster or curse or bloodthirsty mob would have been more interesting than anything Damsel has to offer.

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Score: 4.5 / 5

She's back, and not a moment too soon. After being pushed back several times during the pandemic Wonder Woman 1984 became the face of a controversial decision by Warner Brothers to release their feature films for the next year simultaneously in cinemas and digitally on HBO Max. Regardless of the financial repercussions and potential doom for movie theaters (dare we call them old-fashioned?!), I worry most that the streaming service will result in bad viewing experiences for folks at home, safe as they may be there. Case in point: WW84, which has apparently become cool to hate by audiences watching from home. Never mind that they are probably not giving the movie the undivided attention it deserves as they become distracted by talking, bathroom breaks, and cell phones. And, of course, never mind relegating Patty Jenkins's masterful follow-up to her 2017 introduction of the character to a small screen when it screams to be seen in IMAX.

We begin with the sort of prologue that often begins a hero's story, of young Diana competing against her much older Amazon peers on Themyscira. An exciting overview of the gauntlet leads into the child choosing to take a shortcut before approaching the finish. Antiope (Robin Wright) stops her, lecturing her that "no true hero is born from lies." It's the sort of on-the-nose lecture that might induce some eye-rolling at first, reminding us of comparable Disney movie morals. We then jump ahead -- past the first film's origin story -- into, well, 1984, as Diana works in D.C. as an anthropologist at the Smithsonian, moonlighting as a mysterious crime fighter. Because it's the '80s, Gal Gadot looks effing fabulous all the time, and quickly becomes the envy of her new co-worker, Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig doing scene-stealing brilliant work).

Her latest heist-foiling reveals a cache of stolen artifacts including one inscribed with Latin. Anyone who has ever seen a horror movie knows you should not read the Latin, but Diana is an expert in ancient Mediterranean cultures and languages, so she translates the message and inadvertently wishes for her love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine), to return to her. Of course, the artifact is really the Dreamstone -- an item created by the "god of lies" or Duke of Deception as known in the DC comics, originally working for Ares -- which has, Diana later learns, caused the collapse of several now-extinct civilizations.

And grant wishes it does. Steve's spirit returns, taking over the body of an unsuspecting stranger before seeking out his long-lost love. Meanwhile, overlooked and ignored Barbara wishes to be like Diana, unwittingly also gaining her superhuman speed and strength. Failing businessman Max Lord (Pedro Pascal in his best performance to date) has been seeking the stone -- how he knows about it remains a mystery, but people crazed with desperation do tend to find what they seek, no? -- and seduces Barbara to gain access to it. The problem with the Dreamstone is that it gives, yes, but also takes. In exchange for getting her lover back, Diana's powers weaken. In exchange for becoming like Diana, Barbara starts to lose her humanity, evidenced most clearly in a chilling scene on the streets when she attacks a man who had previously attacked her.

At one point, Steve Trevor refers to the Dreamstone as a Monkey's Paw, referencing the famous W.W. Jacobs short story from 1902 (an apt reference for the WWI spy and pilot). That comparison is dubious at best, as the fictional paw doesn't take so much as ironically twist the wishes it grants. The Dreamstone indeed takes, and that seems to be a result of its design to destroy entire cultures. Nothing exemplifies the corruption at the heart of '80s materialism and the American Dream of capitalist success as Max Lord, who wishes to become the living embodiment of the Dreamstone. Any child on a playground who would use a single wish to ask for infinite wishes can relate. As the stone dissolves and gets absorbed into Max, it becomes more like a Pandora's Box than a monkey's paw, though it fittingly takes Max's bodily health. His body is not his own, you might say.

From this point to the climax, the film does flirt with incoherency between its focal points and numerous unseen plot developments as Max gets people to make wishes en masse, feeding their greed and ambition while causing unbelievable chaos to society. But it's a narrative choice I found fitting, given the dangerous and compromised central plot device. Speaking of which, Jenkins's screenplay does some truly remarkable things: even amidst her use of cliché and almost metafictional references to the superhero genre, making the film more than once appear to be an exceptionally beautiful comic book brought to vivid life, she surprises us with genuinely progressive storytelling. Take her MacGuffin, the Dreamstone itself, which disappears halfway through the movie into her primary villain who reveals the real problem is greed, not the magical ability to grant wishes. Take Barbara, the sort of villain who isn't, whose incredible development rivals that of Killmonger in Black Panther. Or Max himself, who in his final scenes becomes an equally complex and beautifully redeemed character. This is highly sophisticated superhero art, and even if some of the minor plot points don't make immediate sense, I trust that Jenkins and her team understand their own work better than I did after a single viewing.

That's not to say I liked this more than the original. Frankly, nothing compares with the No Man's Land sequence or Diana's infiltration of the German ball. The camaraderie of diverse soldiers that team up with Diana in that movie had some of the best chemistry between men in cinema that year, to say nothing of Lucy Davis as the pitch-perfect sidekick Etta Candy. But Ludendorff, Doctor Poison, and even Ares were laughably shallow villains compared to Max Lord and Cheetah. The brown and grayscale colorscape of World War I can't compare with the vivid beauty of '80s Washington (to say nothing of gorgeous excursions to Cairo and a climactic scene of riotous chaos on Pennsylvania Avenue). And Diana's own character development is intensely internal here; in the first, her black-and-white view of the world is shattered, but in this, the gray areas become a mess that she is forced to simply try and navigate rather than fix. Her learning of the cost of hope, ultimately, is something I found decidedly mature and unexpected as a storytelling choice.

In fact, I had only two problems with this new movie, significant enough to score lower than its predecessor. First, I couldn't take the scene of Diana flying. I mean, what is that? The same scene could have been achieved with her lassoing lightning bolts or just running faster than she ever has, without turning her into a bizarre Superman. Second, I really did not like Barbara's lack of dramatic closure. I trust that Jenkins or the studio have plans in a future installment to continue or rectify that, but for this movie's integrity I would have preferred some conclusion on that front.

But for a gorgeous movie to behold, a personal favorite superhero doing classic work, dazzling escapism and fantastic drama, and some shockingly timely thematic concerns that manifest in two of the best cinematic supervillains ever, Wonder Woman 1984 has solidified its place among my favorite genre movies. I can't wait for the next one.

P.S.: I was fortunate to visit the Watergate Hotel and Pennsylvania Avenue during a weekend in summer of 2018 as the film was shooting. We were allowed on the set to meet the crew and experience the making of "Magic Hour" as it was publicized. I could say a lot about the experience, but relevant to this review is that everything you see on screen during those sequences was real. There are no digital effects to add to the number of people, the period cars, the smoke or chaos. It was a fully practical scene, and the energy and passion exuded were infectious. Seeing it brought to dramatic life on screen -- especially Diana running straight down the street and into the sky -- brought tears to my eyes. That's the magic of movies.

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

Score: 5 / 5

What happens when you throw some of the best artists in the biz together for a long-overdue franchise? A damn masterpiece.

Blade Runner 2049 sees producer Ridley Scott, director Denis Villeneuve (my personal favorite, of Enemy, Prisoners, Arrival, and Sicario), cinematographer Roger Deakins (another favorite, of too many great films to list), and screenwriter Michael Green -- having a great year between American Gods, Alien: Covenant, Logan, and this winter's Murder on the Orient Express remake -- teaming up for a pitch-perfect sequel 35 years after the iconic original. It really doesn't get much better than this, and the product proves it.

Thirty years after Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) hunted down a group of illegal, murderous replicants in a fabulously bleak Los Angeles, the game hasn't seemed to change much. Replicants, now largely integrated into human society, seem to be a factor in humanity's continued existence. K (Ryan Gosling) is now the titular blade runner, "retiring" older, rogue models. Whereas Deckard may or may not have been himself wholly human, the original film raised a lot of questions about the nature of humanity as we saw the "villains" exhibit admirable, even Christlike, qualities between their murders of humans who were cruel, stupid, greedy, and detached from their feelings. This sequel, however, starts off by declaring K to be a replicant, and continues by following his journey to transcend the limitations we cognitively place on his kind.

The inciting incident parallels K's journey of self-discovery, when he discovers the remains of a replicant who died in childbirth. As replicant pregnancy was thought impossible, his superior in the LAPD (Robin Wright) orders him to destroy the evidence and kill the offspring, afraid that this knowledge could lead to a sort of race war. As he delves deeper into the case, however, he begins to suspect he himself may be the offspring, and we learn that the replicant in question was Rachael, Deckard's amorous liaison thirty years prior. After questions of identity and implanted memories lead K to find Deckard living in isolation, the action really heats up, as replicant manufacturer Niander Wallace (an effectively understated Jared Leto) ruthlessly seeks the knowledge of replicant reproduction to bolster his business. I'll leave the plot there. Spoilers come and go, but the finale of the film is one that needs to be felt more than understood.

The film feels, impossibly, like a logical and artistic extension of the first one. While it carries its artists' distinct flavor, it also recalls similar images, themes, and texture of the original. It's still a neo-noir sci-fi mystery in all its glory, with impenetrable shadows at times awash in lurid blue or red hues, meditatively static camerawork, and enchanting scene designs of a decadent urban future. The droning music pounds into our ears, magnificently juxtaposed with some amazing sound effects that turn simple movements into grating tactile violence. My favorite scene, near the end, occurs in a watery chamber of golden ambiance, with sparse overhead light that reflects the gilded fluid ripples into the surrounding blackness; the mobile light sometimes sheds light on the two men in confrontation, sometimes leaves them shrouded, much as their dialogue does. Moments like these remind us that this vision of the future is one in which silence can be as abhorrent as the bewildering bustle of the street, and that reality is as thin as perspective and can be dramatically altered by a shifting light.

As I say, the film grows and expands on it premise organically while carving out its own place, making it the rare sequel to match its predecessor. I didn't see it in IMAX, but I wish I had. Go see it on as big a screen a you possibly can. It's a feast for both eye and ear and a treat for the mind, whirling with great themes and begging mainstream audiences to think at the movies. It's the latest in a trend of big-budget A-list Hollywood blockbusters to elevate the form to the level of high art. Come for Ryan Gosling, stay for Harrison Ford. Come for the devastating spectacle, stay for the riveting power of good sci-fi at work.

IMDb: Blade Runner 2049

Wonder Woman (2017)

Score: 5 / 5

People are saying it's the best DC movie. Some are hailing it as the best superhero movie ever made. Certainly it's one of the best I've ever seen, and I'm not even a big DC fan. Actually, I knew exactly nothing about Wonder Woman before I saw this film, other than that she was in Batman v Superman long enough to save the boys. With just that bit to go on, I wasn't expecting much. I've thoroughly enjoyed the other DC films, even when I can't defend their merit as movies, so why would Wonder Woman be any different?

Maybe because it's just so well written. Writer Allan Heinberg (creator of Marvel heroes Wiccan and Hulkling, just so you know how much I like Heinberg!) shapes a magnificent origin story of epic scale. He handles heavy exposition -- gods and creation and Amazons and war -- remarkably well in a dense script that takes massive shifts from character-building and thematic concerns to fierce action. Not a single scene is superficial or unnecessary. He marries the dialogue to the action by keeping everything grounded in a focused story, and even moments that in other films would be pure spectacle or entertainment are here essential to understanding character and theme. An example? Okay, during the climactic battle between Diana and Ares -- the time when, in other DC films, buildings start collapsing and there's so much dust you can barely see the action -- the violence showcases Diana's resourcefulness and perseverance in the face of raw power. Concurrently, the dialogue between the two characters and Gal Gadot's performance highlight the revelation that she, not a sword, is the "Godkiller" and that her life has been leading to this moment. It's a powerful sequence, all the more so because it defies our expectations: She doesn't learn the truth of herself in the quiet before the storm and then go kick ass. She kicks ass, comes into her own, and then saves the day. It's a minute difference, but an important one.

My only complaint is that the film is structured as a flashback; we've already seen Diana in the present day, so why are we shooting her looking fabulous in Paris as she receives the original photo of her in World War I? It felt silly and fake to me. I had a similar reaction to the way Captain America: The First Avenger was structured; now that I think on it, it's a very similar movie. But then, Gadot's costume is on point in that opening scene, so we'll move on.

The other key player here is director Patty Jenkins (2003's Monster). She films the proceedings (which span the many genres of action, war, history, superhero, and fantasy) with a distinctive flair that repeatedly defies conventions. More importantly, she forces us to pay close attention and to think. The beauty of her work is twofold, as the big-picture drama is glorious to behold and the showstopping details are enthralling to catch. She doesn't tell you what to watch for or expect and then follow through; she tells a rich and complex visual story with each individual shot. She paints the screen in such a way that your eye is forced to travel. That is masterful storytelling.

I'd compare her directorial style in that way to Peter Jackson's in The Lord of the Rings. Each shot is a carefully calculated story in its own right. Whether it's the longer, dramatic scenes that keep us riveted and bouncing from character to character or the intelligent kinetic energy of battle, Jenkins knows how to isolate the important images and promote her themes. The beachside battle between German soldiers and the Amazon warriors is an excellent example of this, where we see spectacularly unique action that also serves the story and the world Jenkins is creating. That's what made Jackson so successful in Rings. Later when the action revs up in Europe, it continues to make sense. We never feel lost or confused about what we're seeing. We care about the people in each shot. There's not so much apocalyptic dust or frenzied editing that we can't tell what's happening.

What else can we say? Beauty is woven into the film through its costumes, locations, effects, and performances. No less beautiful are themes of perseverance, honor, trust, and love. The film is a damning critique of fragile white masculinity, as Diana navigates a world of warmongering men and a dishonorable culture of sexist double standards. Especially noteworthy are the scenes between Gal Gadot and Chris Pine, where their banter steals the movie and highlights the unnecessary nature of men in "pleasures of the flesh" and their otherwise "average" physique. I found it unfortunate, though, that a film with such progressive messages would stoop to such lows as having a physically disfigured villain (ugliness = evil?) and caricaturing races in our heroes' strike team. Similarly I was hoping that, considering the Girl Power basis and an island of Amazons, we might see a bit of queer rhetoric if not outright queer characters, but the film repeatedly reinforces heterosexuality as the name of the game. Still, it's a far better venture into metahuman territory than I was expecting, and easily one of the best movies of the year.

IMDb: Wonder Woman

Everest (2015)

Score: 4 / 5

I fell into my own trap. I have preached before about not putting much stock in trailers and letting the film speak for itself, regardless of its claimed genre. When I first saw the trailers for Everest, I was expecting this year's Gravity, a daring, dark venture of cinematic novelty, great camera work, and heightened allegory. But as I walked out of the theater, I confess myself disappointed because it was none of those things. It's a damn fine film, to be sure, but it wasn't what I had anticipated. So don't do what I did.

So what is this movie? It's a good old-fashioned (by which I mean the genre reached its peak in the mid-2000s) disaster movie. In terms of plot, it's straightforward and formulaic: competing groups of climbers attempt to mount Everest (beg pardon) and due to a bizarre series of mistakes and happenstance, almost everyone dies. Is that a spoiler? I don't think so. Why? Because the movie is also a good old-fashioned biography, detailing the infamous real-life 1996 expedition. And what if it's not as spectacular as I might have expected? There's a lot to be said for a thriller this well-crafted and independent of CGI.

The real heroes of this film are all behind the scenes. Yes, it might be worth seeing for the great and varied cast (including the amazing Jason Clarke, Emily Watson, Michael Kelly, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Josh Brolin). But I applaud first the writers for so effectively capturing the many characters, places, and events of those few days. I never once felt confused or disconnected, which is saying a lot because I have trouble with names and faces. Credit must also go to director Baltasar Kormakur, whose passion for this project is unmistakable. Any big-budget filmmaker could have gone with the wind here, and really amped up the special effects (as I expected he would), but Kormakur is far more interested in creating a distinct tension between human willpower and the might of the mountain. Early in the film, Jason Clarke's character, the leader of one climbing team, describes the horrors they will face on Everest, and he climaxes by saying that above a certain altitude their bodies will literally be dying. I think the director relished in that concept.

In fact, the first part of the film is more of an adventure drama, and a rather uplifting one at that. We hear about the characters' dreams and motivations for climbing, we see them working together and overcoming obstacles. It is not until they reach their mountaintop experience that all the mistakes they have made along the way return with a vengeance. That's when it becomes a full-fledged disaster movie. And yet, despite the horrors we see on screen, Kormakur keeps his eye trained on closeups of his actors, making the human drama as spectacular as the occasional wideshot of the mountain's grandeur. He also keeps his eye on excruciating detail, which I didn't even realize until the credits began to roll and we are presented with photos of the real characters during their doomed expedition. Hair, costumes, and even poses are perfectly replicated, and every single scene of the film is tagged with a time and location. At first I found this device obnoxious, but it further proves Kormakur's passionate endeavor to accurately portray the real story.

It's entertaining, it's informative, and it's ultimately haunting. I could go into a lengthy argument about the integrity of art and my ambivalence toward movies that try to accurately depict reality at the expense of poetic transcendence. But I won't, because Everest never really tries to be anything but an honest look at a group of people who wanted a mountaintop experience, and how their efforts culminated in absolute tragedy. Hold on to something.

Oscar season is coming in fast and hard, guys. This one's a sure contender for sound mixing and editing.

IMDb: Everest

A Most Wanted Man (2014)

Score: 4.5 / 5

The most recent adaptation of a John le Carré (author of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) novel brings a coldly subtle edge to this summer of special-effects-heavy action blockbusters. A Most Wanted Man follows Gunther Bachmann, a disheveled German intelligence officer with a past of failures. He leads an anti-terrorism cell that keeps its eyes on the Islamic population of Hamburg, where the 9/11 attacks were planned. But in the shady world of terrorism and intelligence nothing is ever black-and-white, much as we might hope, and the cost of betrayal is severe.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is electric in his role. His every moment on screen is magnetic due to the incredible subtlety with which he injects Bachmann, beyond his impeccably gravelly German-accented English. Under his brusque, chain-smoking exterior, his idealistic optimism shines through, and proves to be a trait that leads to a personal tragedy. He's seen it all before, and he leads his comrades through a murky world of shady backroom deals and espionage with an air of confident control. And yet his real shining moments occur when he shows that Bachmann isn't just doing his job; he's living a life devoted to the greater good, and to that end he develops personal relationships with his compatriots, whether they be Muslim or American. His warmth as a paternal figure is intoxicating, partly because it is so unexpected.

The supporting cast is no less impressive in creating a taut network of shaky alliances. Rachel McAdams, Daniel Bruhl, Robin Wright, and Williem Dafoe perform with determination and understated intensity that match Hoffman's lead. Wright's aggressive meddling as a CIA agent is sure to rub some of us the wrong way, but it certainly hints at the extent to which Americans will go for "results", regardless of the collateral; McAdams's sweet humanitarian legal efforts, however, prove no less double-edged as she realizes she may be unwittingly helping terrorists. These women play hard roles that straddle extremes of morality, and are accompanied by Dafoe's portrayal of a wealthy banker who makes deals with dangerous clients, uncertain of the consequences.

Directed by Anton Corbijn (director of The American (2010), Control (2007)), this two-hour descent into surprisingly emotional ties is easily the most cerebral film we've seen this summer. From its opening shot of the murky waters of the River Elbe, the film maintains a gray-scale theme of moral ambiguity and tense alliances. Bachmann maneuvers the various players -- especially a respected Muslim lecturer and philanthropist, Dr. Faisal Abdullah, who has publicly denounced terrorism but remains suspicious to intelligence officers -- into helping him whether they really want to or not. The crux of his plans is ex-convict Issa Karpov, who may be a criminal or victim, but who is trying to forge a new life.

As you may be able to tell, no character in this convoluted tale is completely sympathetic, partly because they don't always sympathize with themselves; they dubiously gain trust before casually betraying each other, and their intentions are often undermined by harsh realities. Hoffman's finale (truly, as it is his last finished film) is one of his most memorable, screaming in frustration on the streets before simply walking out of the frame. The tragedy of his character is compounded for audiences, as he was also walking out of our lives forever. We miss you, PSH, but thank you for leaving us one last masterpiece. Rest in peace.

IMDb: A Most Wanted Man