Chile Pages

Pasatiempo - - PASATIEMPO - — com­piled by Robert Ker


Not rated. 115 min­utes. In French with sub­ti­tles. The Screen. See re­view, Page 51.


106 min­utes. Rated PG-13. Screens in 35mm at Jean Cocteau Cinema. Screens in dig­i­tal at Re­gal Sta­dium 14, Vi­o­let Crown, Dream Catcher. See re­view, Page 53.


Ever since 2011’s Brides­maids showed that there was a mar­ket for gross-out come­dies with mainly fe­male leads, there’s been a fairly steady stream of raunchy caper films told from a woman’s per­spec­tive. The sec­ond one this summer (af­ter Rough Night) stars Regina Hall, Queen Lat­i­fah, Jada Pin­kett Smith, and Tif­fany Had­dish as friends who travel to New Or­leans for the Essence Fes­ti­val, where they chase men, get into hi­jinks, and cringe at one an­other’s em­bar­rass­ing mo­ments. Rated R. 122 min­utes. Re­gal Sta­dium 14; Vi­o­let Crown; Dream Catcher. (Not re­viewed)


Rated R. 90 min­utes. Cen­ter for Con­tem­po­rary Arts. See re­view, Page 49.


Di­rec­tor Luc Bes­son (Lucy) has spent most of his ca­reer dream­ing about mak­ing the French graphic novel Va­le­rian and Lau­re­line into a movie, and fi­nally, voilà. An am­bi­tious, col­or­ful sci­ence-fic­tion movie akin to his 1997 cult fa­vorite The Fifth El­e­ment, this film de­tails the ad­ven­tures of Va­le­rian (Dane DeHaan) and Lau­re­line (Cara Delev­ingne), spe­cial agents who must save the uni­verse — in par­tic­u­lar, Al­pha, a city filled with thou­sands of alien species — from mys­te­ri­ous at­tack­ers. Rated PG-13. 137 min­utes. Screens in 2-D and 3-D at Re­gal Sta­dium 14. In 2-D only at Vi­o­let Crown; Dream Catcher. (Not re­viewed)


Not rated. 98 min­utes. The Screen. See re­view, Page 55.


These three short films from the Wis­dom Ar­chive each show­case one fig­ure from New Mex­ico art and mu­sic. Mon­ica Sosaya: Maes­tra de Tradi­ción looks at the tit­u­lar artist, who since 1979 has been an in­te­gral par­tic­i­pant in the Span­ish Mar­ket, where she is called the “Grand Dame” for her 65 years of cre­at­ing san­tos. Re­cuerdo spends time with artist and san­tero Ni­cholas Her­rera of El Rito, win­ner of the New Mex­ico Gov­er­nor’s Award for Ex­cel­lence in the Arts. Cipriano Vigil: Música de la Gente tells the story of Vigil, a mu­si­cian who has taken his mas­tery of North­ern New Mex­ico mu­sic from El Rito to the Smith­so­nian. Di­rec­tor Scott An­drews and the doc­u­men­tary sub­jects ap­pear in per­son. 7:30 p.m. Tues­day, July 25, only. Not rated. 68 min­utes to­tal. Cen­ter for Con­tem­po­rary Arts. (Not re­viewed)


From the mo­ment Baby (Ansel El­gort), the get­away driver of the film’s ti­tle, ex­e­cutes a jaw­drop­ping chase se­quence chore­ographed to the Jon Spencer Blues Ex­plo­sion’s propul­sive “Bell­bot­toms,” it’s clear the doors of cin­e­matic pos­si­bil­ity have been kicked wide open for this fast-paced, rhyth­mic ac­tion movie. Writer-di­rec­tor Edgar Wright mar­ries clas­sic Hol­ly­wood mu­si­cals to The Fast and the Fu­ri­ous with elec­tric verve. At its core is a sweet ro­mance be­tween Baby and a diner wait­ress named Deb­ora (Lily James), which is put in jeop­ardy be­cause of Baby’s debt to a crime lord (Kevin Spacey) and his en­tan­gle­ments with the ec­cen­tric so­ciopaths in that cir­cle (Jon Hamm, Jamie Foxx). Though the edit­ing might be the movie’s star, the script isn’t too shabby, and the cast is strong enough across the board that you won’t feel the movie is sim­ply a stylis­tic ex­er­cise. Rather, it’s the kind of ex­hil­a­rat­ing, star­tling romp that be­trays how con­ser­va­tive most block­buster movies are. Rated R. 113 min­utes. Re­gal Sta­dium 14; Vi­o­let Crown. (Robert Ker)


Salma Hayek stars as the ti­tle char­ac­ter, a body­worker who winds up as an im­promptu din­ner guest in the home of wealthy clients, where she en­coun­ters and then stands up to the ob­nox­ious race and class bi­ases of real es­tate mogul Doug Strutt (John Lith­gow). Per­for­mances are uni­formly su­perb in this com­pli­cated, of­ten un­com­fort­able lit­er­ary char­ac­ter study that con­cludes in am­bi­gu­ity so star­tling it is bound to leave view­ers di­vided. As the story moves be­yond hos­tile comments about Beatriz’s im­mi­gra­tion sta­tus and into deeper wa­ters of per­sonal ide­ol­ogy and themes of mor­tal­ity and ecol­ogy, the guests do not know what to make of some­one who is not be­holden to their sta­tus as im­por­tant busi­ness­peo­ple — and their mock­ery drives Beatriz to des­per­a­tion. Rated R. 83 min­utes. Vi­o­let Crown. (Jennifer Levin)


Sofia Cop­pola’s lat­est, which won her the Best Di­rec­tor award at this year’s Cannes Film Fes­ti­val, is a moody pe­riod piece re­con­fig­ured from the 1971 film, which starred Clint East­wood and was based on a novel by Thomas P. Cul­li­nan. In Civil War-torn Vir­ginia, a wounded Union cor­po­ral (Colin Far­rell) is brought to con­va­lesce at a nearby girls’ board­ing school presided over by Miss Martha Farnsworth (Ni­cole Kid­man). Though the shel­tered pupils and their teacher (an un­der­stated Kirsten Dunst) are at first sus­pi­cious of the en­emy sol­dier, they come to dote on him, fas­ci­nated by his mas­cu­line en­ergy, which threat­ens to upend the or­der of the school. Cop­pola’s mis­sion to in­vert di­rec­tor Don Siegel’s lurid, male-dom­i­nated per­spec­tive from the original in­fuses the re­make with her trade­mark thought­ful fe­male gaze. The de­ci­sions she makes in the ser­vice of this goal are sub­tle and en­gross­ing, though her choice to cut a key slave char­ac­ter from the original nar­ra­tive stands out as a missed op­por­tu­nity for fur­ther com­plex­ity. Bol­stered by the per­for­mances of Kid­man, Dunst, Far­rell, and a de­light­fully over­sexed Elle Fan­ning, the up­date is a tour-de-force of gauzy, clois­tered fem­i­nin­ity — as with Cop­pola’s The Vir­gin Sui­cides and Marie An­toinette, the dresses are not to be missed — com­bined with the can­dlelit black magic of a South­ern gothic psy­cho­log­i­cal thriller. Rated R. 93 min­utes. Vi­o­let Crown. (Molly Boyle)


This warm ro­man­tic com­edy is drawn from the real life story of its screen­writ­ers, Emily V. Gor­don (played by the de­light­ful Zoe Kazan) and her hus­band Ku­mail

Nan­jiani, an ac­tor and co­me­dian (Sil­i­con Val­ley) of Pak­istani ori­gin who por­trays a ver­sion of him­self in this tale of love, laughs, and cul­ture clash. They meet at a Chicago club where he’s do­ing stand-up and she’s in the au­di­ence, and a feisty and fit­ful re­la­tion­ship en­sues. Ka­mail’s cul­ture is one of ar­ranged mar­riage, and when Emily dis­cov­ers he has never told his par­ents about her, she breaks off the re­la­tion­ship. Shortly there­after she suf­fers a med­i­cal emer­gency that dom­i­nates most of the rest of the pic­ture. The cast, which in­cludes a smat­ter­ing of comics and ter­rific in­put from Ray Ro­mano and Holly Hunter as Emily’s par­ents, is uni­formly good. The Big Sick is a smart ro­man­tic com­edy with a rich­ness of cul­tural in­sights, a beat­ing heart, and gen­uine laughs. Rated R. 119 min­utes. Re­gal Sta­dium 14; Vi­o­let Crown. (Jonathan Richards)


Race car Light­ning McQueen (Owen Wil­son), now with his odome­ter get­ting up there in num­bers, hits the track once more and sets out for a come­back against a new breed of race­car that is ca­pa­ble of go­ing much faster than he can. This plot is old hat for Pixar An­i­ma­tion, which has fea­tured char­ac­ters be­ing made ob­so­lete by new tech­nol­ogy since 1995’s Toy Story. As McQueen grad­u­ally shifts gears from de­nial to anger to ac­cep­tance with the help of a younger trainer voiced by Cris­tela Alonzo, his whole arc isn’t un­pleas­ant — it’s just bor­ing and about 20 min­utes too long. Larry the Ca­ble Guy’s tow truck Mater re­mains an ac­quired taste, the look of the char­ac­ters still feels off, and the world it­self re­mains weird — why do these talk­ing cars live in a world de­signed for hu­mans? For the tykes who wear Light­ning McQueen pa­ja­mas to bed, this in­stall­ment will prob­a­bly be a pass­able new ad­di­tion to their DVD shelf. For the rest of us, the movie of­fers an ac­tion-packed scene in a de­mo­li­tion derby and not much else. Rated G. 109 min­utes. Screens in 2-D only at Re­gal Sta­dium 14. (Robert Ker)


With two movies and a Minions spinoff now un­der its belt, this an­i­mated com­edy se­ries has its hero, Gru — the das­tardly mas­ter­mind with a heart of gold — meet­ing his long-lost brother, Dru. In voic­ing both char­ac­ters, Steve Carell man­ages once more to con­vey a sur­pris­ing amount of per­son­al­ity for some­one shout­ing in a weird Eastern Euro­pean ac­cent, but the real stars are once more the yel­low, one-eyed Minions, as well as the vil­lain — a 1980s-ob­sessed rogue voiced by South Park’s Trey Parker. The story un­furls in a lively enough fash­ion, but the movie has too many un­re­lated sub­plots for a rel­a­tively scant run­ning time, sug­gest­ing that the fran­chise is run­ning low on ideas and sim­ply cob­bling to­gether what­ever they’ve got. Rated PG. 90 min­utes. Screens in 2-D only at Re­gal Sta­dium 14; Vi­o­let Crown; Dream Catcher. (Robert Ker)


The lat­est shark-at­tack movie stars Mandy Moore and Claire Holt as two sis­ters va­ca­tion­ing and ad­ven­ture-seek­ing in Mex­ico. While on a boat, they are talked into get­ting into a metal cage that is then low­ered into the ocean, where they can ex­pe­ri­ence what it’s like to swim with the great whites. It’s good, scary fun at first, but then the ca­ble snaps, send­ing the cage and their limited oxy­gen sup­ply down to the ocean floor. Rated PG-13. 89 min­utes. Dream Catcher. (Not re­viewed)


This movie rides the lean shoul­ders, the droopy mus­tache, and the deep, drawl­ing bari­tone of Sam El­liott with a lop­ing gait, as writer-di­rec­tor Brett Ha­ley steers us through a col­lec­tion of clichés so fa­mil­iar they could have sprung from a soft­ware pro­gram. Lee Hay­den (El­liott) is a griz­zled old ac­tor down on his luck, es­tranged from his fam­ily with a ter­mi­nal di­ag­no­sis, a last lusty fling with a younger woman, and end­less melan­choly walks along the Cal­i­for­nia coast­line as the surf rolls in. The bet is that El­liott’s charm will hold it all to­gether, and the bet pays off. The good sup­port­ing cast in­cludes Lee’s ex-wife (Katharine Ross), his daugh­ter (Krys­ten Rit­ter), his pot­head friend (Nick Of­fer­man), and the beau­ti­ful woman half his age (Laura Pre­pon) who finds him ir­re­sistible.

The Hero is an un­abashedly self-ref­er­en­tial movie, and a nice trib­ute to a vet­eran char­ac­ter ac­tor get­ting his turn in the spot­light. Rated R. 96 min­utes. Cen­ter for Con­tem­po­rary Arts. (Jonathan Richards)


A spec­tac­u­lar trove of archival footage from early 20th-cen­tury Iraq, Syria, Egypt, and other Mid­dle Eastern lo­cales pro­vides the vis­ual back­drop for the re­mark­able story of Gertrude Bell, an English ar­chae­ol­o­gist, au­thor, and diplo­mat who worked fer­vently to es­tab­lish an in­de­pen­dent Arab state (which be­came Iraq) af­ter the First World War. The words are Bell’s own, taken di­rectly from her cor­re­spon­dence with her fam­ily and friends and spo­ken by Tilda Swin­ton (who also served as an ex­ec­u­tive pro­ducer). Tes­ti­monies from those who knew Bell are wo­ven in as “in­ter­views” with ac­tors who ad­dress the camera (their words, too, are lifted from sur­viv­ing let­ters and other sources). A few ti­tle cards rep­re­sent the soli­tary in­tru­sion of the film­mak­ers, who need not ed­i­to­ri­al­ize — the con­flict that has plagued the re­gion and the per­sis­tence of dilem­mas that kept Bell up at night speak for them­selves. This is a beau­ti­ful el­egy for a world that seems long gone. Not rated. 95 min­utes. In English and Ara­bic with sub­ti­tles. The Screen. (Jeff Acker)


Sally Hawkins (Happy-Go-Lucky) is one of those Bri­tish ac­tors who is so good most people here don’t even know who she is. In this film, in­spired by the life of Maud Lewis (1903-1970), she gives an Os­car-cal­iber per­for­mance as the Nova Sco­tia folk artist whose hand-painted cards sell for nick­els and dimes, mostly to the clients of her fish-ped­dler hus­band (a very good Ethan Hawke). Even­tu­ally she moves on to paint­ings, and her price rock­ets to $5, and then $10. Lo­cal tele­vi­sion does a story on her, and ev­ery­one, in­clud­ing Lewis, be­gins to show her a lit­tle re­spect. Gnarled and scrunched from child­hood rheuma­toid arthri­tis, Maudie main­tains a cheer­ful de­meanor. As much as it is the story of her paint­ing, di­rec­tor Ais­ling Walsh’s biopic is about sur­vival and pos­i­tiv­ity in the face of crip­pling ad­ver­sity. The real Maud Lewis died in poverty, but her paint­ings now sell for tens of thou­sands of dol­lars. Not rated. 115 min­utes. Cen­ter for Con­tem­po­rary Arts. (Jonathan Richards)


This 1968 coun­ter­cul­ture clas­sic from D.A. Pen­nebaker, shot in his trade­mark vérité style, tells an episodic and non­lin­ear tale of the Mon­terey Pop Fes­ti­val. Held 50 years ago on a sunny week­end in June, the mu­sic fest fea­tured the for­mi­da­ble lineup of Jimi Hen­drix, Ja­nis Jo­plin, Otis Red­ding, the Ma­mas and the Pa­pas (Papa John Phillips or­ga­nized the fes­ti­val with Lou Adler), the Who, Hugh Masekela, and Ravi Shankar. It’s the yang to Gimme Shel­ter’s yin, show­cas­ing the Summer of Love at its most care­free, ide­al­is­tic, and fash­ion­able (come for the mu­sic, stay for the out­fits). But con­sid­er­ing that the im­me­di­ate fu­ture held in store the tragic deaths of the con­cert’s stand­out per­form­ers (Red­ding, Hen­drix, Jo­plin, and Mama Cass), view­ers may not be able to es­cape a vague sense of fore­bod­ing, watch­ing these stars burn­ing at their bright­est and hottest. 79 min­utes. Not rated. Cen­ter for Con­tem­po­rary Arts. (Molly Boyle)


Af­ter fac­ing di­min­ish­ing re­turns with the Amaz­ing Spi­der-Man films, Sony Pic­tures Stu­dio fi­nally col­lab­o­rated with Marvel Stu­dios to re­unite Spidey with Cap­tain Amer­ica, the Hulk, and all of his other bud­dies from Marvel’s comics. In this first solo film for the new Spi­der-Man (af­ter a brief ap­pear­ance in Cap­tain Amer­ica: Civil War, the char­ac­ter is a high-school stu­dent (played with ex­u­ber­ance by Tom Hol­land), hang­ing with his pals and wait­ing for the call to of­fi­cially join the Avengers. Mean­while, a lo­cal crook called the Vul­ture (a mag­nif­i­cent Michael Keaton) is scoop­ing up alien tech and sell­ing it on the black mar­ket, prompt­ing Spidey to in­ves­ti­gate. Marvel Stu­dios’ mar­quee draw, Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), also el­bows his way in as a men­tor fig­ure. Mov­ing Spi­der-Man into the Marvel Stu­dios sta­ble should have pro­pelled the char­ac­ter to greater sto­ries, but the movie feels con­fined by this tran­si­tion: The Avengers tie-in bogs the movie down, and Spidey’s ad­ven­tures — once vis­ually thrilling as di­rected by the sin­gu­lar Sam Raimi — now look and feel like ev­ery other Marvel movie. A de­light­fully di­verse cast and a lively spirit help lift this new web-slinger’s in­au­gu­ral ad­ven­ture, but hope­fully the real goods are yet to come. Rated PG-13. 133 min­utes. Screens in 3-D and 2-D at Re­gal Sta­dium 14. Screens in 2-D only at Vi­o­let Crown; Dream Catcher. (Robert Ker)


The new en­try in the Trans­form­ers fran­chise in­ex­pli­ca­bly fea­tures King Arthur (Liam Gar­ri­gan) and the Knights of the Round Ta­ble, who are among the first to come into a Trans­form­ers-made tal­is­man that now spells doom for planet Earth — un­less Cade Yea­ger (Mark Wahlberg) can save the day. The sup­port­ing cast is a ver­i­ta­ble Sun­dance Film Fes­ti­val of tal­ent, in­clud­ing An­thony Hop­kins, Stanley Tucci, and John Tur­turro as well as the voices of Steve Buscemi, John Good­man, and Ken Watan­abe — none of whom seem to be en­joy­ing them­selves all that much. By the time the cred­its roll, ex­hausted au­di­ences might feel the same way. Rated PG-13. 149 min­utes. Screens in 2-D only at Re­gal Sta­dium 14; Dream Catcher. (Robert Ker)


In one scene near the end of this third pre­quel to 1968’s Planet of the Apes, char­ac­ters tra­verse aban­doned tun­nels where one bit of graf­fiti reads “Ape­poca­lypse Now!” This tag spells out the ob­vi­ous — this saga’s chap­ter is a clear nod to the 1979 film Apoca­lypse Now . In a world in which hu­mans have been wiped out by the simian flu and mon­keys are evolv­ing at a rapid rate, ape leader Cae­sar (per­formed once more by a mo­tion-cap­tured Andy Serkis) trav­els north on a re­venge mis­sion to find a crazed Army colonel gone rogue (Woody Har­rel­son). Di­rec­tor Matt Reeves tack­les the story with a com­mit­ment to ex­cel­lence across the au­dio and vis­ual com­po­nents of the film, in­clud­ing some of the best spe­cial ef­fects you’ll ever see, won­der­ful sound ef­fects (par­tic­u­larly when all the apes start chat­ter­ing at once), a com­pelling score, and an eye for mem­o­rable im­ages. The script bal­ances heavy drama with smaller mo­ments, of­fer­ing nice nods to the 1960s and ’70s films.

Dane DeHaan and Cara Delev­ingne in Va­le­rian and the City of a Thou­sand Plan­ets, at Re­gal Sta­dium 14, Vi­o­let Crown, and DreamCatcher

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