Passing salt, scalpel at a Trumpian dinner
The Sundance premiere of Miguel Arteta’s Beatriz at Dinner almost coincided with U.S. President Donald Trump’s inauguration last January, and, at first, the juxtaposition seemed almost too perfect.
Here’s a social satire about an Earth-loving idealist, Salma Hayek’s title character, breaking bread with a Trumpian planet-defiler, John Lithgow’s Doug Strutt. Sparks fly; would you expect anything else?
And yet I’ve found myself thinking about this movie, along with Jordan Peele’s racially alert horror comedy Get Out, as being two of the most memorable movies from Sundance 2017. In different ways they both confront the gap between stated noble intentions and brutal reality that has grown all the larger in Trumpland.
Free of makeup and guile, Beatriz is like a holy statue come to life — and she does have both Buddha and the Blessed Virgin Mary on the dash of her decrepit Volkswagen. She keeps pet goats, and earns humble bread as a self-described healer, administering massages and positive vibrations to rich folk like her devoted client Kathy (Connie Britton).
Car problems and misguided good intentions result in Beatriz getting invited to dine with Kathy’s corporate pals, who on this evening include the odious Doug. As Beatriz listens with mounting fury (“Are you for real?”), Doug brags about hunting endangered rhinos and blighting the land with his jumbo hotels. He dismisses the life successes of Mexicanborn Beatriz (“Good for you!”) and brags about the title of his eventual memoirs: Life Is a Game, Guess Who Won?
Director Arteta and screenwriter Mike White like to search for the inconvenient truths behind an unlikely pairing, as in previous collaborations The Good Girl and Chuck & Buck. They’re agnostic about their satire — even though it’s clear they side with Beatriz, she doesn’t escape their skewer.
As obvious as the movie’s intent and execution are, it gnaws at the conscience thanks to the brilliance of the lead performances. We admire Beatriz, who is earnest to a fault, especially when she over-imbibes. Hayek plays her with a calm intensity that is born of personal conviction.
But Doug is more amusing and interesting, like a certain reality-show host who now rules America by tweet and tantrum. Lithgow’s commanding performance isn’t caricature; it’s a mirror of strange times. Peter Howell Tupac Shakur’s life has all the hallmarks of a legend.
Aprolific and charismatic rap artist raised by parents who embraced the Black Panther movement, Shakur had a meteoric career checkered by conflicts with the law and clashes with fellow rappers.
He died at the height of his fame in a hail of gunfire at the shockingly young age of 25, a murder that remains officially unsolved.
A life and legacy so rich in promise, talent and tragedy deserves to be immortalized in a great film. All Eyez on Me isn’t it.
In development, the movie saw filmmakers like Antoine Fuqua ( Training Day) and John Singleton ( Boyz in the Hood) come and go before directing duties fell to Bennie Boom, who has worked mostly in music videos.
If ever a story needed a seasoned filmmaker’s vision, it’s this one.
The film exhaustively covers Shakur’s short life but, at more than two hours, it often feels more belaboured than edifying.
And while Demetrius Shipp Jr. bears a strong resemblance to the late rapper, his performance, while adequate, never rises to stellar. Bruce DeMara California’s Monterey Pop made rock festivals a genuine happening in the “Summer of Love” of 1967, two years before muddy upstart Woodstock electrified Max Yasgur’s field.
The two fests shared many of the same acts — including The Who, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jefferson Airplane — but Monterey Pop arguably got the better performances, captured by director/cinematographer D.A. Pennebaker and his fellow camera aces (Albert Maysles among them).
They were pushing the limits of technology, using 16mm film and 8-track tape, as you can see in Simon and Garfunkel’s opening-night rendition of “Feelin’ Groovy,” which nearly dissolves in red stage light.
Mostly, though, there’s a lot of groovy images and great music in this 50th-anniversary 4K-resolution restoration, including Otis Redding’s breakthrough gig, mere months before his untimely death, and a Hendrix performance of “Wild Thing” that literally blazes.
The three-day fest also featured swan songs by The Mamas & the Papas and the original lineup of the Byrds. It really was a special moment. PH Arguably the most unlikely movie ever to compete for the Palme d’Or at Cannes, this 1976 ensemble comedy has nevertheless aged well.
Now available on Blu-ray, Michael Schultz’s frantic direction of an episodic Joel Schumacher script may be confined to a single location, the fictional DeLuxe Car Wash near L.A.’s Sunset Strip.
But it busts out with incidents both comic and serious, featuring a diverse cast that includes LGBTQ, Native American and Black Muslim characters, set to the beat of disco diva Rose Royce, whose hit title tune is heard often.
There are few famous faces among the car wash staff but the customers include comedy pros George Carlin as a distracted taxi driver and Richard Pryor as a money-grubbing preacher.
Pryor’s “Daddy” Rich arrives in a limo accompanied by the Pointer Sisters to deliver a musical moment that stops even this crazy show. It reminds you that Car Washwas originally conceived of as a musical. Don’t bet against Broadway making it happen.
Extras include a director’s commentary and making-of featurette. PH Woody Harrelson’s misanthropic title nerd has no job, no significant other, no apparent grooming standards and no “off” button.
When Wilson feels compelled to comment on something, he just lets ’er rip. He really gets going when he discovers he has a teen daughter (Isabella Amara) from a long-forgotten relationship with Pippi (Laura Dern), a former junkie prostitute now gone straight.
This is funny for about the length of time it takes to watch a movie trailer. After that, you need to actually have a movie, a feat director Craig Johnson managed very well with his previous comedy, The Skeleton Twins.
He’s stymied by the challenge of making a real person out of a graphic novel character by Daniel Clowes, who also wrote the screenplay. Clowes turned ink into flesh and blood for his 2001 screenwriting debut Ghost World. He seems to have lost the transformative knack while Johnson has forgotten how to get laughs; both conditions are hopefully temporary.
Extras include 15 deleted scenes, making-of featurettes and a photo gallery. PH