This Guy at the Movies

I wouldn’t have watched “Mea Culpa” (aka “Tyler Perry’s ‘Mea Culpa’”) (American; 2024; “erotic” crime “thriller”; running time 2 hours; written, directed and produced by Tyler Perry; rated R for graphic nudity, strong sexual content, drug use, some violence, language; available on Netflix on Feb. 23, 2024) were it not for a review I watched on YouTube (see it at the link in the comments) that assured me that it was so awful as to be a guilty pleasure type of fun. That review was accurate. “Mea Culpa” is, indeed, awful in every way, from the wooden acting to the inane dialogue to the nonsensical script to the even more nonsensical ending to the sex scenes that were intended (I guess?) to be erotic but instead had me cackling at my TV. It’s been my experience that eroticism does not normally involve cackling. This, a drama (I guess?), might be the funniest movie Perry has ever made, his 400 or so “Madea” entries be damned.

Mea (Kelly Rowland) is a top tier attorney in Chicago. Everyone, for no obvious reason, has it out for Mea. She’s got marriage problems; husband Kal (Sean Sagar) has lost his job as an anesthesiologist for being under the influence and recently was caught holding hands with a longtime female friend but blames the rocky marriage on Mea. Kal’s mother Azalia (Kerry O’Malley) is vying for the title of worst human being in the world, but that’s OK because she has cancer, a condition we will be reminded of ad nauseum. Azalia is upfront about wanting Kal to be with that longtime friend instead of Mea, who has been supporting Kal. He has not told his mother about his unemployed status because, well, why would he? Kal’s brother Ray (Nick Sagar) is the district attorney and aspires to be Chicago’s mayor. That’s where Zyair (Trevante Rhodes, who I am not certain was awake during the filming of this movie) enters the picture. Zyair is a famous bad boy artist who has been accused of killing one of his hookups in his fancy loft, one that can be reached with an old-timey open elevator. And he lives a floor above a sex club because who among the elite doesn’t live above a sex club? Ray would very much like to raise his profile by convicting Zyair. A mutual friend suggests Zyair hire Mea to represent him. She waffles but eventually takes the case because Zyair is hot (and she has those marital problems), because she needs the money to support her and her deadbeat husband’s swanky lifestyle, and because she wants to stick it to Ray, Kal and their mother. Revenge is as good a reason as any to take on a high-profile client. A judge somehow decides the obvious conflict of interest between Mea and her brother-in-law is a-OK. Mea frequently “consults” with Zyair in his loft because it is easier to have sex there than in a law office. Will Mea get Zyair off? And vice versa, so to speak?

Every character here is slimy, except for Mea, who apparently rose to prominence as an attorney despite possessing suspect decision-making abilities. How else to explain her sleeping with her client despite him practically draping her in red flags? Sure, copious amounts of blood allegedly belonging to his alleged victim were found in his apartment, and fragments of her alleged skull were allegedly found embedded in one of his alleged paintings, but … what’s the worst that could happen by you, his legal representation, banging him? Zyair, a man so narcissistic that he surely is frustrated he can’t make love to himself, seals the deal by having Mea watch a random woman go down on him. Isn’t that always how you get the girl? When Mea and Zyair get it on, it’s pure “artistry.” And uproarious. Speaking of which, “Mea Culpa” jumps the rails in the gonzo final act like the worst of low-budget horror movies. That’s OK, because nothing in the melodramatic, plot-hole filled script makes sense, either. During the recent writers’ strike, if the Hollywood studios had wanted to push the issue of needing to use A.I. to write scripts, they could have used any of Perry’s work as Exhibit A. Then again, could A.I. produce deliciously awful trash like this? Me thinks not.

My score: 13 out of 100

“Perfect Days”

Genre: Drama

Countries: Japan, Germany

Directed by: Wim Wenders

Written by: Wenders and Takuma Takasaki

Starring: Koji Yakusho, Tokio Emoto, Arisa Nakano, Aoi Yamada, Yumi Aso, Sayuri Ishikawa, Tomokazu Miura, Min Tanaka

Rated: PG for some language, smoking, partial nudity

Run time: 2 hours, 4 minutes

Release date: Made debut at Cannes Film Festival on May 25, 2023; in limited U.S. theaters on Feb. 23, 2023

Where I saw it: Kan-Kan Theater and Restaurant on the near eastside of Indianapolis, on a Saturday afternoon, $12, about 25 other people in the theater

What it’s about: Set in current day Japan, Hirayama (Yakusho), a man in his 60s, works as a public toilet cleaner and seems content with his solitary lifestyle. He maintains a structured routine, listens to classic rock on cassette tapes in his work van, reads each night before falling asleep in his modest apartment, and takes photos of trees. Through random encounters, including an unexpected visit from his niece Niko (Nakano), Hirayama reflects on finding  beauty in the world.

What I liked about: Driven by a remarkably restrained but warm performance by Yakusho (who should have received Oscar recognition), “Perfect Days” is a thinking and feeling person’s movie that will have you pondering life and what defines a happy one long after you have left the theater. Wenders, 78, is a German filmmaker who has long had a fascination with Japanese culture. He and Takasaki wrote the role of Hirayama with Yakusho in mind, and it shows. Hirayama is a simple man who has reached the age where he just wants the world to leave him be. He finds contentment in performing his toilet-cleaning duties with great care and visiting the same eateries and public bathhouse each day. He makes enough money to enjoy a simple life, but just barely. Wenders and Takasaki tell us little about Hirayama, instead dropping breadcrumbs of information and letting us connect the dots. Yakusho wrings much emotion out of a part that has him scrubbing toilets for much of the film’s run time. And in the end, there’s just enough ambiguity (especially in the closing scene, set to Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good”) to leave us wondering about how content Hirayama really is. … In a gentle movie in which not much happens (Hirayama’s “Groundhog Day” type of repetitive routine has the feel of a much shorter version of the highly acclaimed 1975 French film “Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay, 1080 Brussels,” but without the simmering discontent and wicked turn), Emoto’s high energy and comedic relief is welcome in his brief appearances as Hirayama’s much younger, much less diligent co-worker Takashi.

What I didn’t like about it: Wenders’ work is known for its needle drops, and the songs here will sound comfortably familiar to anyone above age 60. I just found myself hoping for a slightly more adventurous playlist. Some of the songs here are too obvious and overused in movies.

Who it will appeal to: The arthouse crowd, mostly 50-and-up viewers.

My score: 93 out of 100

“Drive-Away Dolls” (titled onscreen as “Drive-Away Dykes”)

Genre: Comedy road film/thriller/LGBTQ

Country: United States

Directed by: Ethan Coen

Written by: Coen and Tricia Cooke

Starring: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein, Joey Slotnick, C.J. Wilson, Colman Domingo, Pedro Pascal, Bill Camp, Matt Damon, Miley Cyrus (uncredited)

Rated: R for language, full nudity, crude sexual content, some violent content

Run time: 1 hour, 24 minutes

Release date: In wide release in theaters Feb. 23, 2024

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Saturday night, $7, six other people in the theater (including a baby)

What it’s about: Set in 1999, two lesbian friends – the loose cannon and sexually reckless Jamie and the more uptight and currently celibate Marian (Viswanathan) – look for a fresh start by leaving Philadelphia and heading to Tallahassee in a drive-away car. But the trunk of the old Dodge Aries contains a brief case and another container that a crime boss (Domingo as Chief) and his muscle (Wilson as Flint and Slotnick as Arliss) want to get their hands on.

What I liked about: This won’t take long. Qualley has real star power, and it is on display here despite an off-target Texas accent and rapid-fire delivery that renders some of her lines indecipherable. She and Viswanathan have good comedic chemistry even if their characters’ pairing is little more than a movie trope (the wilder partner trying to get the more serious one to loosen up). … I chuckled a few times, but not more than could be counted on one hand.

What I didn’t like about it: “Drive-Away Dolls” reeks of wasted effort. It’s one-half of the Coen brothers team (Joel is not involved) obviously trying to make a wacky Coen brothers comedy and failing on almost every level. The raunchy humor usually misses the mark and, worse, much of it is annoyingly bad. A movie that lasts only 84 minutes feels twice that long; it quickly turns repetitive; and, worst of all, it’s dull. Qualley, Viswanathan and most everyone else in the cast is trying their best to make something out of nothing. Wilson (he’s the thug) and Slotnick (he’s the thug who thinks he’s a philosopher) get too much screen time and are never anything but irritating. Feldstein, as a police sergeant and one of Jamie’s numerous gay lovers, appears infrequently in a one-note role. I’m not sure what Domingo, who is up for a Best Actor Oscar for the title role in “Rustin,” is doing here, as he’s given even less to do than Feldstein. Pascal, Damon and Cyrus are around only for cameos, with the latter two appearing in frequent hallucinatory transition scenes that amount to filler. Take those scenes out and cut the redundancy, and you’d be left with a short or a TV comedy episode, which is probably what this should have been. If that.  

Who it will appeal to: There’s an audience for this, I suppose. I just don’t know who it would be.

My score: 18 out of 100

“Sibyl” (French/Belgian; 2019; drama/comedy; running time 1 hour, 40 minutes; directed by Justine Triet, written by Triet and Arthur Harari; N/R but includes graphic sex and nudity, self-harm; made debut at Cannes Film Festival on May 24, 2019, available on VOD and streaming services, including Mubi) asks a lot of its audience, including embracing (or at least accepting or understanding) a flawed protagonist and sifting through a seemingly infinite array of characters and side plots. But the effort is worth it (mostly), as Triet, up for a Best Director Oscar for her work on last year’s “Anatomy of a Fall,” offers a complex story that is sometimes erotic, sometimes observational and on occasion hilarious. Attention-commanding performances abound, and Triet’s filmmaking is inspired if a little unfocused. If nothing else, “Sibyl” is never dull. That’s good because you’ll need to be alert so you can keep up with everything happening.

Sibyl (Virginie Efira) is a middle-aged French psychotherapist, recovering alcoholic and married mother of two young daughters who has decided to instead pursue writing. She seems eager to tell her clients, who don’t take the news so well. While waiting for inspiration to arrive, she gets a call from a panicked young actress (Adèle Exarchopoulos as Margot) who is going through a crisis and needs therapy. Sibyl at first doesn’t want to be bothered and doesn’t immediately answer Margot’s messages. But as she helps Margot sort through an unwanted pregnancy — the child’s father is actor Igor Maleski (Gaspard Ulliel), Margot’s leading man in a movie she is about to make – Sibyl uses a version of Margot and pieces of their conversations during therapy sessions (without Margot’s permission) to start writing a book. Margot wants Sibyl with her while she is on location for filming at an active volcano. While there, Sibyl begins a physical relationship with Igor; directs a scene in the movie when the film’s anxiety-ridden director (Sandra Hüller as Mikaela, who previously had a sexual relationship with Igor) bails; and falls off the wagon on the return flight. Will she manage to hold it together long enough to get her book finished and keep her family intact?

The tangents are many, including Sybil’s conversations with her publisher, sessions with a young patient she has continued to see, a fractured relationship with her sister, a husband who she barely acknowledges, a run-in with the father of one of her daughters and frequent flashbacks, usually to when Sibyl was younger and more sexually adventurous. The core of the story, though, is Sibyl’s professional relationship with Margot, one that crosses all manner of ethical lines. Efira is as likeable as she can be portraying her damaged character, a woman who is always a step away from another questionable decision. Exarchopoulos sometimes upstages the lead performance in a dramatically showy role, though Exarchopoulos never overdoes it. The versatile Hüller (who was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar for her performance in “Anatomy of a Fall” and stars in another Best Picture nominee, “The Zone of Interest”) is a scene-stealer in a gonzo performance that never fails to deliver laughs. Efira’s Sibyl often gets lost in her own story. But that could be the point in a movie that explores the blurred line between reality and art and the gray area between right and wrong. Sibyl is in many ways lost, and she often can’t get out of her own way. Her life is imperfect, and so is she. But can’t the same be said about all of us?

My score: 70 out of 100

“The Taste of Things” (original French title, “La Passion de Dodin Bouffant,” lit. “The Passion of Dodin Bouffant”)

Genre: Historical culinary romantic drama

Country: France

Directed by: Trân Anh Hùng

Written by: Hùng, based on the 1920 Swiss novel “La Vie et la Passion de Dodin-Bouffant, Gourmet” by Marcel Rouff

Starring: Juliette Binoche, Benoit Magimel, Emmanuel Salinger, Bonnie Chagneau-Ravoire, Galatéa Bellugi, Patrick d’Assumcao, Jan Hammenecker, Frédéric Fisbach, Jean-Marc Roulot, Yannik Landrein, Sarah Adler, Mhamed Arezki, Pierre Gagnaire, Clément Hervieu-Léger

Rated: PG-13 for some sensuality, smoking, partial nudity

Run time: 2 hour, 14 minutes

Release date: Made debut May 24, 2023, at Cannes Film Festival; in limited theaters Dec. 15, 2023, in wider release Feb. 13, 2024

Where I saw it: Kan-Kan Cinema and Restaurant on the near eastside of Indianapolis on a Saturday afternoon, $12, about 12 other people in the theater

What it’s about: Set on a country estate in 1885 France, Eugénie (Binoche) has been a cook for gourmet Dodin Bouffant (Magimel) for 20 years, and occasionally they share a bed. But Eugénie, who is prone to fainting spells, has declined Dodin’s many offers of marriage, so he tries to win her over with his own culinary creations.

What I liked about it: If you go into “The Taste of Things” on an empty stomach, you’re going to be hungry. Even if you go into it with a belly full of pizza and salad like I did, you’ll want to eat even more. This is a love story, but not just one about the simmering romance between the two main characters. It’s a meticulously crafted and heartfelt love letter to all things good food and how those who view preparing and savoring food as a sensual experience often express their feelings through culinary delights. Vietnamese-French filmmaker Hung beautifully and unobtrusively captures every sizzle, every  puff of steam, every delicate movement of a chef’s hands, even the food preparer’s breathing. Those are real garden vegetables, fresh meats and sauces (no substitutes like those used in food commercials) being prepared (usually) by the actors (and food prep in the 1880s was much more involved than popping a frozen meal into a microwave), and the authenticity makes all the difference. This is a feast for the senses, and not just taste and sight. Hung’s movie SOUNDS gorgeous, putting food and food preparation among its surroundings, from the clomp of shoes on a wooden floor, to chirping birds in the garden, to the glorious sound of fresh-picked vegetables in boiling water, to the satisfied sigh of a culinary connoisseur with a stuffed belly. This is a movie to be savored, not just consumed. … Binoche and Magimel, who were a real-life couple for about five years and have a daughter together, are comfortable and convincing as the romantic couple. Pay attention to how Magimel’s Dodin looks at Binoche’s Eugénie when he asks if he can watch her eat. Theirs is a subtle love story, more sensual than sexual (though that’s implied), one forever intertwined with food and their love of preparing it. … Though this is a drama, “The Taste of Things” is dotted with lightly humorous moments, ones that demonstrate that while food preparation is a meticulous bit of artistry and gourmets take their eating seriously while they wax poetic about every subtle flavor they detect, dining with friends over a great meal and vintage wine also should be fun. That said, you should be prepared to cry a couple of times.

What I didn’t like about it: No major qualms here, though I can see how the deliberate pacing and general lack of story might be a turnoff for many viewers. And if you are the type of person who is content with frequently sitting in a fast-food drive-thru line for 20 minutes to get a burger that looks like it has been sat on and salt-heavy fries, this movie will be of little value.

Who it will appeal to: People who eat food and like to watch people prepare and eat food

My score: 95 out of 100

This was supposed to be a review of “Players” (American; 2024; rom-com; running time 1 hour, 45 minutes; directed by Trish Sie, written by Whit Anderson; rated TV-MA for language and smoking; in limited theaters and streaming on Netflix on Feb. 14, 2024), but I quit on it about six minutes in because those involved seemed like horrible people who were manipulating their marks to trick them into having casual sex. Needing something more life-affirming, I switched to “Lover, Stalker, Killer” (American, 2024, true crime documentary, running time 1 hour, 30 minutes; directed by Sam Hobkinson; rated TV-MA for language; streaming on Netflix on Feb. 9, 2024) in which horrible people cross paths on a dating site and stalking, intimidation, home invasion and arson ensue. As it always does. “Lover, Stalker, Killer” is efficient and entertaining, if just a tad predictable, in telling its shocking true story, the “shocking” part being an aspect those involved will remind you about ad nauseum. Like with almost all of Netflix’s salacious true crime documentaries, afterwards you’ll want to shower or curl up into the fetal position and swear off dating. Again.

In the early 2000s, dude bro mechanic Dave Kroupa moved to Omaha to be closer to his young children after he and his baby mama split. Looking for casual action, he went on a dating site and met Liz Golyar. They had alcohol-infused good times and agreed to keep things fun. Or so Dave thought. Soon after, Dave, still on the prowl, found on the same dating site a woman (Cari Farver) who had recently brought her car to Dave’s auto repair shop. They had alcohol-infused good times, and Dave was happy, and Cari seemed OK with it. But one night Liz shows up unannounced at Dave’s apartment when Cari was there. No big deal, Dave thinks; everybody’s chill. Until Dave starts getting nasty texts from … Cari, who begins stalking and threatening him. Those targeted include, of course, Liz, whose home is set on fire, killing all her pets. Omaha police investigators can’t seem to find Cari, who is apparently a ninja. Dave gets sick of it all and moves away. He’s learned his lesson about dating sites. Except no. He’s browsing again when he meets another party gal, but she stands him up. And – wouldn’t you know it? – all along it was Cari posing as someone else. Why can’t anyone find this crazy stalker? That’s what the Pottawattamie County (in Iowa but bordering Omaha) Sheriff’s Department wanted to know. A cowboy detective, his loose-cannon sidekick and nerdy tech guy found it weird that Cari had moved away and become a recluse shortly after crossing paths with Liz, even though she took nothing from her apartment when checking out on life. Through some good old-fashioned IT forensics investigation, they unraveled the mystery and unlocked the shocking twist, which you can probably guess by now.

Director Hobkinson largely lets the story tell itself in linear fashion, through the usual methods, including interviews, re-enactments and media coverage (though there was little of it until late in the investigation). Dave Kroupa plays himself in some of the re-enactments, which is weird, and Dave seems to be enjoying a little too much retelling a story he has no doubt retold often before. The film takes a nice, if jolting, turn when the sheriff department gets involved, if for no other reason than an investigator from Omaha comes across as a human shoulder shrug during his interviews. Hobkinson could have perhaps spent more time on Cari Farver’s story, though that would have made for less suspense. Hobkinson, try as he might, can’t totally conceal the twist. Still, you will agree with those involved who call this situation the most shocking they have seen. It’s going to make you wonder what is wrong with people, and by that I mean people on dating sites.

My score: 82 out of 100

“The Zone of Interest”

Genre: Historical war drama

Country: American/British/Polish

Directed by: Jonathan Glazer

Written by: Glazer, loosely based on the 2014 novel of the same name by Martin Amis

Starring: Christian Friedel, Sandra Hüller, Medusa Knopf, Daniel Holzberg, Sascha Maaz, Max  Beck, Wolfgang Lampl, Ralph Herforth, Freya Kreutzkam

Rated: PG-13 for some suggestive material, smoking, thematic material

Run time: 1 hour, 45 minutes

Release date: Made debut at the Cannes Film Festival on May 19, 2023; in limited release in theaters Dec. 15, 2023, in wider release Feb. 2, 2024

Where I saw it: Kan-Kan Cinema and Restaurant on the near eastside of Indianapolis on a Sunday afternoon, $13, about 12 other people in the theater

What it’s about: Set in 1943, commandant Rudolf Höss (Friedel) and his wife Hedwig (Hüller) carve out what is for them and their children an idyllic life while living in a new home with spacious gardens next door to the Auschwitz concentration camp, even though they are subjected to the constant sound of trains, incinerators, gunshots and screams from Jews being put to death.

What I liked about it: Unnerving at every turn, “The Zone of Interest” is a real-life horror story in which the awfulness is implied and (mostly) out of sight. Glazer takes a calculated, clinical approach to the storytelling, letting the absurdity of the juxtaposition of German people living what for them is their best lives (or at least they have convinced themselves of that) just beyond a wall around a facility at which Jews are being put to death around the clock speak for itself. Glazer doesn’t show Jews being tortured and exterminated, but he lets the audience HEAR it, in remarkable sound design (by Johnnie Burn and a team of 23 sound technicians and editors) that commands more attention than the icy visuals. There’s just no unhearing the sound of a young child being shot, or the drone of incinerators, or the screams of a man being tortured while the camera takes close-ups of Hedwig’s flowers in her garden. While Glazer doesn’t directly show what is going on behind the concentration camp’s walls, some imagery still is horrifying. Like when the ashes of human remains are spread upon a garden for fertilizer. Or when Höss is in a hidden office, a young female prisoner is brought to him, and then he is shown walking through a series of tunnels to a hidden restroom where he washes his genitals. Or part of a human skeleton found in a river. Or the constant presence of smoke from the incinerators filling the air in the distance. These moments never let up, making for a consistently uncomfortable watch. The dialogue is sparse, but it too is unsettling, like when Hedwig tells the family’s Jewish cook that her husband could be spreading her ashes if she doesn’t comply with orders.

What I didn’t like about it: I know this is an incredibly important film, and one that is a reminder of the awful things that humans can do to other humans, and it’s great and ambitious filmmaking that takes a unique approach to a well-documented situation. But I left the theater feeling largely underwhelmed. I asked my young adult son what he thought after we have viewed it, and he said, “Not great. I didn’t know what the point was.” He understood more about what was going on than I did (I was baffled by several moments), and the blanks he filled in for me made sense. This is a bare bones film that takes a voyeuristic approach to what is going on in the home of Höss and his family, and as such the audience is left to watch events unfold deliberately and mundanely. And that does not make for a terribly entertaining 105 minutes, not that this film was meant to entertain.

Who it will appeal to: People who need one more reminder of how horrific the Holocaust was

My score: 70 out of 100

I have now watched all 10 nominees for the Best Picture Oscar. Here’s how I rank them, with title, director, genres and my original rating out of 100; and then my best guess as to how Academy Award voters might rank them: 

1. “Poor Things” (Yorgos Lanthimos, fantasy/sci-fi/black comedy, 97)

Far and away the most inventive film on the list, it does everything a great movie is supposed to do – including remarkable performances from throughout the cast — while being wonderfully weird and even at times repulsive.

• “Past Lives” (Celine Song, drama, 97)

An engaging drama about life as an immigrant and being torn between two cultures, two times and two people. Greta Lee deserved a Best Actress nomination. I did a significant amount of crying in two viewings, especially during the final scenes.

• “Oppenheimer” (Christopher Nolan, historical drama, 97)

An epic and important film in every way possible. Nolan’s story covers a lot of ground but never feels like too much or, even at 3 hours, too long. Stunning scenery and seat-rattling sound design demanded an IMAX viewing. Cillian Murphy is brilliant in the lead role.

• “The Holdovers” (Alexander Payne, drama/comedy, 95)

A surprisingly touching period piece driven by a performance by Paul Giamatti that might just garner him a Best Actor Oscar, with equally impressive supporting performances by Da’Vine Joy Randolph and newcomer Dominic Sessa. A smart script by David Hemingson hits all the right notes.

• “Killers of the Flower Moon” (Martin Scorsese, historical Western crime drama, 89)

In the same vein as “Oppenheimer,” Scorsese’s film is an epic crime drama about an often neglected horrifying story in American history. It’s 26 minutes longer than Nolan’s film, and it feels like it. Don’t be surprised if Lily Gladstone takes home the Best Actress Oscar.

• “Anatomy of a Fall” (Justine Triet, crime drama, 86)

A thorough and riveting crime drama that morphs into a courtroom procedural and still manages to feel fresh. Triet deservedly earned a Best Director nomination, and Sandra Hüller was nominated for Best Actress in her role as a woman fighting a stilted legal system. If you like a stout drama, this is it.

• “American Fiction” (Cord Jefferson, satirical comedy/drama, 85)

A hilarious spoof of not only the book publishing industry but how many White consumers are clueless when it comes to Black culture and literature. Jeffrey Wright, long a supporting player, shines in the lead role, as does Sterling K. Brown as a supporting player.

• “Barbie” (Greta Gerwig, fantasy/comedy, 84)

A cultural phenomenon and the most successful of the 10 nominated films at the box office, it might not have been taken as seriously as the other films here because it is pink and shiny and based on popular dolls. But “Barbie” has substance, too, while being wildly entertaining and important.

• “Maestro” (Bradley Cooper, music biopic/romance/drama, 79)

While it perhaps tries to do too much with a fascinating and complicated central figure (and ends up shortchanging Leonard Bernstein), “Maestro” is driven by stellar all-in performances by director Cooper and Carey Mulligan. The music is, of course, beautiful.

1. “The Zone of Interest” (Jonathan Glazer, historical war/drama, 66)

A haunting film (one in which the most horrific acts are heard and not seen), Glazer’s clinical look at a Nazi officer and his family living next door to the concentration camp at Auschwitz might be too slow and vague for general audiences. The sound design might keep you up at night, though.

***

How I think Oscar voters rank the 10 films nominated for Best Picture:

1. “Oppenheimer”
2. “Killers of the Flower Moon”
3. “The Holdovers”
4. “Poor Things”
5. “The Zone of Interest”
6. “American Fiction”
7. “Past Lives”
8. “Barbie”
9. “Anatomy of a Fall”
10. “Maestro”

“Lisa Frankenstein”

Genre: Horror/comedy/teen romance

Country: American

Directed by: Zelda Williams

Written by: Diablo Cody

Starring: Kathryn Newton, Cole Sprouse, Carla Gugino, Liza Soberano, Joe Chrest, Henry Eikenberry

Rated: PG-13 for violence, sexual assault, language, bloody images, sexual material, teen drinking/drugs

Run time: 1 hour, 41 minutes

Release date: In wide theatrical release Feb. 9, 2024

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Saturday evening, $7, six other people in the theater

What it’s about: An outcast, angsty high school girl (Newton as Lisa Swallows) who has been traumatized and a reanimated Victorian corpse (Sprouse as the Creature) form a bond and turn to violence to get the corpse replacement human body parts.

What I liked about it: The concept is intriguing. A female-centric spin on “Frankenstein” or, more accurately, “Edward Scissorhands,” with a dash of “Beetlejuice,” the story, set in 1989, attempts to pay homage to horror comedies of the era while still feeling fresh. Williams’ feature debut (she is the daughter of the late Robin Williams) does a decent job of capturing the spirit of the films this one emulates. … Newton is solid in the lead role, even without much to work with (see below). Ditto Sprouse as the Creature, who doesn’t have any lines (just grunts) but ably conveys emotion through his eyes and gestures. Gugino, a staple of horror films, is at times fun as she hams it up as Janet Swallows, a stereotypical evil stepmother, though her character often feels out of place and contributes to the awkward tonal shifts (also see below). … A cool 1980s soundtrack includes familiar (to old folks) tunes by Echo & the Bunnymen and the Jesus and Mary Chain, but …

What I didn’t like about it: … also includes the syrupy balled “Can’t Fight This Feeling” by REO Speedwagon, and its inclusion as the centerpiece love song might be the most horrifying aspect of the movie. … Speaking of which, nothing here is all that gruesome, with the blame going to the PG-13 rating. The one scene that should have been truly shocking cuts away from the violence and then is played for laughs. … Speaking of which, a film billed as a horror comedy should be one or the other, or both. But nothing in the script rises above the level of mild chuckles. And there aren’t many of those. … This felt like a film in search of a film. The filmmakers seem to have been noncommittal about what they wanted “Lisa Frankenstein” to be. In addition to horror that was never horrific and romantic comedy that was not all that funny or romantic, the film tries to be tender but comes across as awkward. It also takes a couple of brief swings at feminism and raunchy high school comedy, but its tones are many, and each is spread thin. Worst of all, the first third of the film is a snoozefest, and then a sudden turn results in the players (especially Newton’s Lisa) acting out of character before the film staggers to a ho-hum finish.

Who it will appeal to: Perhaps moviegoers with low expectations who can’t stomach the idea of the upcoming “Beetlejuice 2” but need that sort of movie in their lives for some reason.

My score: 35 out of 100

“24 Hour Party People” (British; 2002; biographical music/comedy/drama; running time 1 hour, 57 minutes; directed by Michael Winterbottom, written by Frank Cottrell Boyce; rated R for sex, drug use, strong language; in theaters April 5, 2002, available on VOD and streaming services, including Amazon Prime Video) is a wild but heartfelt, nostalgic ode to the thriving Manchester (England) music scene from the mid-1970s to the early 1990s. Based on real people and circumstances but blending rumors, urban legends and fantasy elements into the story, it bends many moviemaking rules (including frequently breaking the fourth wall and using colorful, pulsating titles that are barely legible) but is an engaging and often hilarious (but also at times heartbreaking) music buff’s dream. Your enjoyment level will depend largely on your knowledge of the Manchester scene (this film no doubt played better to British audiences) and your tolerance and/or affinity for Steve Coogan’s brand of humor, which is an acquired taste. But even if you have never heard of Joy Division and can take only so much Coogan, “24 Hour Party People” has enough going for it to keep you entertained and perhaps will have you working the Google machine to see what Manchester and its music were all about.

Coogan is Tony Wilson, a popular and ambitious British TV personality who wants to branch out into a career that is more substantial. In 1976, he witnesses an early performance by the Sex Pistols (in front of an audience of 42) and declares them the future of music. He starts airing performances by punk and post-punk bands on his TV show and then buys an old nightclub in which to host live music. Wilson takes an interest in post-punk band Joy Division (guitarist/keyboardist Bernard Sumner and bassist Peter Hook formed the band after witnessing the same Sex Pistols show that Wilson did) after it performs at his club. Wilson founds Factory Records and signs Joy Division as its first act. Their first album is recorded by producer Martin Hannett (a hilarious turn by Andy Serkis), and the rest is history (at least in England). Wilson opens another nightclub, the Hacienda, and signs other bands, including the Happy Mondays, and the Manchester rave culture is born. Much sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll follows, and the debauchery takes its toll. Factory Records’ bands are using too many drugs to record; the Hacienda is losing money because its patrons are taking ecstasy and not drinking the club’s alcohol; and Factory Records didn’t even have contracts with its artists and had virtually no value. Just like that, the Manchester scene (or at least Wilson’s part of it) is history.

That synopsis makes “24 Hour Party People” sound like a dry music documentary, but it is anything but. Coogan, on screen most of the time, keeps the humor flying, and even though some of it misses, most of it does not. Some of his material is obvious, but much of it (maybe even most of it) is more subtle and sneaky and (to those not in the know) qualifies as inside jokes. Coogan has a certain charm; much of his humor relies on him being on the edge of coming across as a narcissistic idiot. The film is not all fun and games, though, including when Joy Division frontman Ian Curtis, troubled by depression and epileptic seizures, hangs himself in his home on the eve of Joy Division embarking on its first U.S. tour. Winterbottom also weaves in news footage about important British social topics of the time, including fuel shortages and a garbage collectors’ strike. The live music is a mix of lip-syncing actors and footage of real-life bands. In addition to Coogan’s Wilson frequently talking to the camera, “24 Hour Party People” has a sense of meta, including when an actor (Martin Hancock) playing Buzzcocks band member Howard Devoto has sex with Wilson’s wife (Shirley Henderson as Lindsay Wilson) in a men’s room stall, and the real Devoto, working as the men’s room attendant, says “I definitely don’t remember this happening.” It’s safe to say that many involved in the Manchester music scene, because of the free flow of drink and drug, don’t remember a lot of what happened back then. Winterbottom’s film, while not a wholly factual documentary, beautifully captures the spirit of an important era in British music history.

My score: 85 out of 100