This Guy at the Movies

“Ferrari”

Genre: Biographical sports drama

Country: American

Directed by: Michael Mann

Written by: Troy Kennedy Martin, based on the 1991 biography “Enzo Ferrari: The Man, the Cars, the Races, the Machine” by Brock Yates

Starring: Adam Driver, Penélope Cruz, Shailene Woodley, Sarah Gordon, Gabriel Leone, Jack O’Connell, Patrick Dempsey, Michele Savoia, Erik Haugen, Giuseppe Bonifati, Lino Musella, Giuseppe Festinese

Rated: Rated R for sexual content, language, graphic images, some violent content

Run time: 2 hours, 4 minutes

Release date: In theaters Dec. 25, 2023

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., on a Saturday night, free (a gift card from a friend), only one in theater

What it’s about: Set in Italy in 1957, the automaking business founded after World War II by Enzo Ferrari (Driver) and his wife Laura (Cruz) is on the brink of bankruptcy. Ferrari, who is leading a double life with a mistress (Woodley as Lina Lardi) and secret young son (Festinese as Piero), needs to sell more cars to finance his racing obsession, and he gambles his company’s future by entering five cars in the Mille Miglia, a 1,000-mile race across public roads in Italy.

What I liked about it: Let’s start with the performances. Though Driver arguably is miscast (Enzo Ferrari would have been pushing 60 during the events of this story, and even with a padded midsection Driver doesn’t look anything close to 60) and though his Italian accent is suspect (to be fair, he has company among the rest of the cast), he delivers a powerful, multilayered performance while portraying a complex man. Driver’s Ferrari is a relentless competitor, a misogynist who thinks females are a distraction to racers but is involved with multiple women, and perhaps not the best of businessmen but one willing to gamble even when he is behind. Driver delivers the emotion, particularly in scenes when he visits the tomb of his first son (who died from health complications) and recalls fellow drivers who lost their lives while racing. Much of “Ferrari” focuses on Enzo Ferrari’s business and personal relationships, and both Cruz as his wife and Woodley as his mistress are sensational. Cruz will no doubt get Oscar consideration for her performance as Laura, a woman who keeps a much closer eye on the company’s books than her husband and (barely) tolerates her husband’s straying. Laura is a ball of rage waiting to get out, and Cruz simmers well, especially in the scenes with Driver. Patrick Dempsey, a racecar driver in real life, is a nice touch as Pierro Taruffi, a seasoned driver in Ferrari’s stable. … The climactic scene, the Mille Miglia, is gripping (the movie needed more of this; see below), and when tragedy hits, it’s jolting and graphic. Suffice to say that safety for auto racing drivers (who sat up in open cockpits with virtually nothing to keep them in the car) and spectators (who during the Mille Miglia were allowed to stand next to the road as racecars flew, sometimes literally, past at 100-plus mph) has advanced considerably since the 1950s. The old racecars are pretty cool, though.

What I didn’t like about it: This movie doesn’t have such spark considering it involves auto racing and what should be fascinating characters (or at least a fascinating main character). Fast cars are few and far between for a story about Ferrari, though the scintillating (and shocking) climactic scene makes up for some of that lack of screen time. The pacing is lethargic, and the story wasn’t emotionally engaging despite obvious efforts to make it so. And, as a friend who saw it before me put it, it was largely a “buncha miserable Italians hating each other.” Save for a scene in which Ferrari is gathered with drivers and team members over lunch and they become just a bunch of guys, not a lot here amounts to fun. And auto racing, even at a top-tier level and with a powerful and wealthy man’s gigantic ego at stake, should be more fun than this.

Who it will appeal to: Auto racing history buffs.

My score: 67 out of 100.

“Poor Things”

Genre: Fantasy/sci-fi/black comedy

Country: Irish/British/America

Directed by: Yorgos Lanthimos

Written by: Tony McNamara, based on the 1992 novel “Poor Things: Episodes from the Early Life of Archibald McCandless M.D., Scottish Public Health Officer” by Alasdair Gray

Starring: Emma Stone, Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe, Ramy Youssef, Christopher Abbott, Jerrod Carmichael, Kathryn Hunter, Hanna Schygulla, Margaret Qualley, Vicky Pepperdine

Rated: Rated R for gore, disturbing material, graphic nudity, strong sexual content, language

Run time: 2 hours, 21 minutes

Release date: In limited theaters Dec. 8, 2023

Where I saw it: Kan-Kan Cinema and Restaurant on the near eastside of Indianapolis, on a Saturday afternoon, $13, 31 other people in the theater (sold out)

What it’s about: Set in Victorian Era London, Dr. Godwin Baxter (Dafoe), a brilliant but unorthodox scientist, brings a young woman (Stone as Bella Baxter) back to life. Bella is childlike and must relearn everything, and when she longs for freedom from Dr. Baxter, she runs off with a caddish lawyer (Ruffalo as Duncan Wedderburn) for adventure and sexcapades. But Bella yearns for more, and she strikes out on her own, freeing herself from the shackles placed on her by her reanimator and a society dominated by men.

What I liked about it: This is aggressive, adventurous, inventive and strange filmmaking that aims for great heights and overachieves. If you need comparisons, think “My Fair Lady” meets “Frankenstein” (or, if you prefer, “Edward Scissorhands”) by way of Pornhub. And if you think that sounds like a movie not for everyone, you would be correct. But if that sounds like your type of thing, you will be beyond satisfied by a movie that is in many ways a feminist film but also the anti-“Barbie.” Lanthimos, who did this sort of thing in 2018’s “The Favourite” but with more abandon here, has replaced the pink glossiness of the summer’s most popular product-placement movie and replaced it with all sorts of steam punk weirdness but with the same strong pro-woman message that is only slightly less obvious. Even with the bizarre but stunning visuals (fish-eye lens, odd perspectives, variable focus, surreal and sometimes grotesque imagery) and even more bizarre and unnerving score by Jerskin Fendrix, “Poor Things” is a remarkably human story about one woman’s quest to discover herself. This is in many ways a brilliant movie. And all sorts of fun. … Stone turns in a remarkable performance, one in which she is tasked with speaking what amounts to broken poetry in weird cadences and moving about as if she didn’t know how to control her own body. Stone also gives her character heart and soul underneath all the rough edges. Bella Baxter’s transformation is fascinating, made more so by Stone’s all-in performance. Ruffalo is a hoot as a suave lawyer who thinks he controls Bella until he can’t and is reduced to a blubbering, whiny clinger. Great performances abound in unique roles that don’t come along every day. … If you are prudish, steer clear of this movie. Because there is sex and graphic nudity. And lots of it. And it isn’t always comfortable to watch, especially when Bella takes a job as a sex worker. But that’s the point in which the messaging in “Poor Things” grows stronger, because Bella is in the process of taking control of her own body and understanding how men function. The sex scenes also are, like the rest of the film, darkly humorous. … Speaking of humor, the men in this movie frequently are looking for a reason to fight (usually over Bella), but they simply don’t know how to fight. They, especially Ruffalo’s Duncan, just grab and push at each other, and it is hilarious. Ditto for a scene in which Bella starts dancing and Duncan joins her. Duncan is no better dancer than fighter. … I would be remiss to not mention the strangely beautiful costumes by Holly Waddington. Stone is often draped in outfits that defy description.

What I didn’t like about it: No real complaints here. That’s not to say it’s a perfect movie (it will seem wildly imperfect if not abrasive to some, maybe even many, viewers). But everything here seems spot-on.

Who it will appeal to: Audiences who are prepared for and accepting of this sort of thing.

My score: 97 out of 100.

I wanted to hate “Holiday in the Vineyards” (American; 2023; holiday rom-com; running time 1 hour, 47 minutes; directed by Alex Ranarivelo, written by Cecilia Franco and David Zanardi; rated PG for suggestive references and some language; streaming on Netflix on Dec. 13, 2023) because, well, it’s a Netflix holiday rom-com. And, sure, there’s a lot here to hate if not strongly dislike. It fulfills all the government requirements for a holiday rom-com, which is to say it doesn’t do anything you haven’t seen a million times already. But it’s a touch less obnoxious, a little lighter on the holiday sentiment and not as overbearingly saccharin as most of the assembly line entries in the genre. And while I didn’t want to embrace the main couple, whose romance is built upon a troubling premise, I didn’t want to punch them in the face, either. That’s how you know it’s not a terrible holiday rom-com.

Carter Baldwyn (Josh Swickard) is a 30-ish hunky playboy who hasn’t grown up. His mother (Eileen Davidson as Margo Baldwyn), a candidate for worst person in the world, ruthlessly runs the family wine business, known for churning out rancid crap that the Baldwyns themselves won’t drink. A quaint family-run vineyard in a nearby hamlet is going up for auction, and Margo wants her no-good son to go incognito to the vineyard and pry the locals for information so that the Baldwyns can swoop in at the last minute with a minimal but winning bid. As it just so happens, the real estate agent overlooking the sale (Sol Rodriguez as Valentina Espinoza) is a gorgeous young mom who is recently widowed. She also happens to have a guest house in need of repairs (Carter, a chronic liar, will pretend to be a carpenter), which means Carter now has a place to stay. Carter befriends Valentina’s young sons, who miss their father, and a kindly hardware store owner (Omar Gooding as Moe Walker) who is onto Carter’s ruse but is willing to lend a guy a hand. Valentina gets a shove from her filter-free horny friend (Carly Jibson as Cindy), but she’s just not ready for a new romance. Until … she sees Carter and his washboard abs coming out of the shower, and then has a couple of glasses of wine and, well, you can guess the rest. What happens when she finds out that Carter has been deceptive? Will his hunky abs convince her to forgive him? Or will Carter save the day by intervening in the family business’ effort to buy the quaint local winery? Will Carter’s mother have a Grinch-like change of heart? You can undoubtedly guess the correct answers.

Swickard’s Carter is a douche but matures in a remarkably short period of time and learns the value of doing the right thing. Rodriguez’ Valentina is easy to root for because she is trying to coordinate a collective bid to keep the local winery local. She doesn’t seem like she needs Carter or any man (she has her stuff together well for someone who recently lost a spouse), which makes the romance feel more sincere. Jibson’s Cindy is annoying and a cliché, but Gooding’s Moe gives the movie heart outside of the romance. Wouldn’t it be great if Cindy and Moe got together? Hmm. “Holiday in the Vineyards” is largely devoid of the usual holiday movie trappings; its only real connection is that it takes place in the week leading up to Christmas. Still, it’s as predictable as any holiday rom-com. But, if you are in the holiday spirit, that can be forgiven.

My score: 48 out of 100

“Maestro” (American; 2023; musical biographical romance/drama; running time 2 hours, 9 minutes; directed by Bradley Cooper, written by Cooper and Josh Singer, based on the life of composer Leonard Bernstein and his marriage to Felicia Montealegre; rated R for some language, drug use; in limited theaters Nov. 22, 2023, streaming on Netflix on Dec. 20, 2023) wears its Oscars intentions on its sleeves. A labor of love for Cooper, who stars in the lead role, co-wrote, directed and produced, it serves as a showcase for his considerable talents. Ditto for Carey Mulligan as Bernstein’s wife, even though her casting (she is British and White and playing a native Costa Rican, though in the film Montealegre is Chilean) and Cooper’s use of heavy prosthetics to look more like the Jewish Bernstein (Cooper’s appearance described as “problematic” and “ethnic cosplay”) have been taken to task. “Maestro” hits all the right notes when it comes to aesthetics. It’s a gorgeous film spanning several decades, and Cooper changes up from silky black-and-white to rich colors to best represent each time period. And the story of Bernstein’s and Montealegre’s enduring but sometimes tumultuous romance, set to Bernstein’s considerable music output, is a powerful one. Where “Maestro” feels off-beat is in its exploration of its enigmatic main character. The film focuses more on the couple’s partnership while gliding over Bernstein’s musical career, what made him click and how he was tortured by living as a closeted gay man who had platonic and physical relationships with many men and women and just so happened to be married. If anything, Cooper’s film feels like an overview that would be a nice setup to a TV series, one in which the audience would really get to know Bernstein the composer, conductor, teacher, family man and enthusiastic but reckless lover of people and life.

A little background: Bernstein was born Aug. 25, 1918, in Lawrence, Mass. “Maestro” picks up when Bernstein is 25 and he, because a guest conductor fell ill, on short notice conducted the New York Philharmonic’s Nov. 14, 1943 performance. He was the first American-born conductor to lead a major American symphony orchestra. Fame quickly followed. Bernstein, in a career that lasted until his death in October 1990, would earn seven Emmys, two Tonys, 16 Grammys (including the Lifetime Achievement Award) and the Kennedy Center Honor. Among his best-known works are the musical “West Side Story” and the score for the 1954 movie “On the Waterfront.” Bernstein met Montealegre, an aspiring actor, shortly after his New York Philharmonic conducting debut. The bulk of “Maestro” is about their romance, marriage, family life and Montealegre’s growing discontent with her husband’s numerous affairs (not to mention his drinking and drug use), particularly one with Tommy Cothran (Gideon Click), a music collaborator who Bernstein spent an increasing amount of time with. Montealegre, who knew all along that her husband had physical relationships with men, and Bernstein separated briefly before reuniting just before Montealegre was diagnosed with lung cancer (she and her husband were heavy smokers; in the film both pretty much smoke all the time). Bernstein put his career on hold to care for his wife, who died in his arms June 16, 1978.

In many ways, “Maestro” is the story of Montealegre (in the closing credits, Mulligan gets top billing over Cooper). And it is difficult to watch her go from wide-eyed show business hopeful, to dutiful wife who knows more about her husband’s professional schedule than he does, to hovering partner who feels the need to keep a constant eye on her straying husband, to bitter and ignored spouse, to cancer patient. Mulligan’s performance is riveting during all phases of Montealegre’s life. Don’t let the prosthetics distract you (and they are distracting) from Cooper’s commanding performance. His eyes tell the story of a man torn not only by his love for men and women, but by his need for affirmation from an audience but also his need to step out of the spotlight and isolate himself during the composing process. Cooper’s Bernstein, in a 1950s TV interviews, likens his duality to being schizophrenic. The supporting cast is stellar, too, including Sarah Silverman as Bernstein’s sister Shirley and Matt Bomer as David Oppenheim, a clarinetist with whom Bernstein had a romantic and physical relationship before he met Montealegre. Cooper’s movie moves seamlessly from scene to scene and between time periods, never feeling rushed nor bogged down. The music of Bernstein plays nearly continuously, and it’s beautiful. “Maestro” is bound to garner attention in a variety of categories come awards season. It’s not quite movie magic, and it doesn’t have that certain something that makes for a Best Picture Oscar winner. But it is in many ways a remarkable film, even if it leaves aspects of its subject’s story thinly told.

My score: 79 out of 100

In case you didn’t realize it, we are all screwed if a hacker or hackers successfully execute a cyberattack. “Leave the World Behind” (American; 2023; apocalyptic drama/mystery; running time 2 hours, 21 minutes; written and directed by Sam Esmail, based on the 2020 novel of the same name by Rumaan Alam; rated R for some sexual content, brief bloody images, language, drug use; in limited theaters Nov. 22, 2023, available on Netflix on Dec. 8, 2023), a Netflix movie that is too Netflix-y for its own good, is here to remind us that breached systems would result in humans who do not know how to function because their phones don’t work; lost people who never learned how to get around without GPS; airplanes falling from the skies and beached oil tankers; hordes of CGI deer standing around and staring; and, most tragic of all, people who have never seen the final episode of the sitcom “Friends” left hanging about what happens with Ross and Rachel. No, seriously. Think about it. “Leave the World Behind” benefits from a star-studded cast and is built on a fascinating premise that amounts to little, layering on weird, loosely linked moments that lead to nowhere and then end with a resounding yawn.

The collapse of the world is far more interesting from the perspective of the privileged, apparently. So this story finds New Yorkers Amanda Sandford (Julia Roberts) and her husband Clay (Ethan Hawke) bored and in need of a vacation. She is in advertising and (as she puts it) reads people so that she knows how to lie to them so that they part with their money. Clay is a professor of some sort. On a whim, Amanda books a getaway in a luxurious home in a nearby hamlet for the Sandfords, including teen son Archie (Charlie Evans) and tween daughter Rose (Farrah Mackenzie). Weird stuff ensues, including that tanker beaching itself as the Sandfords run from it. That evening, a man (Mahershala Ali as G.H. Scott) and his college-age daughter (Myha’la as Ruth) show up at the front door of the family’s vacation home. Turns out G.H. is the owner, and he and his daughter are fleeing chaos in New York City. Power is sporadic, phones don’t work, flamingos show up to take a dip in the pool. Archie becomes ill and his teeth fall out; Rose obsesses over that last “Friends” episode; Amanda/G.H. and Clay/Ruth get mildly flirtatious with each other; and a survivalist (Kevin Bacon as Danny) greets anyone seeking his help with a shotgun and blames the Koreans or Chinese, since he might not know the difference. What in the world is going on?

Writer/director Esmail will sort of tell us what’s going on, in a vague and unsatisfying way. The source of the bedlam can best be summed up with: We have met the enemy, and he is us. Esmail is attempting to say a lot, with characters delivering overly dramatic and oversimplified cynicism-laced monologues about how terrible the world is because, well, people are terrible and people are in the world. That angle might have worked better in a more significant work. But here it comes across as people who should have little to complain about complaining about everything. The omnipresent score by Mac Quayle would have you believe that all the scattered weirdness was building to something but instead serves to make it more obvious that it isn’t. The camera work is aggressive, with lots of spiraling overhead shots, even during indoor scenes. All the performers are up to the task, with Ali the standout as the closest thing the story has to a likeable character. A film about the potential end of the world (or at least the United States) deserved a better ending than this one. Unless “Friends” means that much to  you.

My score: 32 out of 100

“Wonka”

Genre: Musical comedy/fantasy

Country: British/American

Directed by: Paul King

Written by: King and Simon Farnaby, based on characters from the 1964 novel “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” by Roald Dahl

Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Calah Lane, Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Mathew Baynton, Sally Hawkins, Rowan Atkinson, Jim Carter, Nathasha Rothwell, Olivia Colman, Hugh Grant, Rich Fulcher, Rakhee Thakrar, Tom Davis

Rated: PG for some violence, mild language, thematic elements

Run time: 1 hour, 56 minutes

Release date: In wide release in American theaters on Dec. 15, 2023

Where I saw it: Yes Cinema in downtown Columbus, Ind., on a Saturday early afternoon, $5, about 40 other people in the theater

What it’s about: In Willy Wonka’s origin story, the young chocolatier/magician/inventor (Chalamet) arrives by boat in an unnamed European city and soon is separated from what little money he has. Wonka, who is illiterate, signs a contract to stay at a laundry/boarding facility and is enslaved to work off his massive overnight debt. But he never loses sight of his dream, selling delicious and magical chocolate to the masses. And with the help of a young orphan girl (Lane as Noodle) who also must work in the laundry, Wonka pursues starting his business despite the efforts of an evil chocolate cartel and a police chief (Key) who is on the take and has a voracious sweet tooth.

What I liked about it: This isn’t your grandparents’ Willy Wonka (Mel Stuart’s 1971 entry “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory,” with Gene Wilder in the title role), nor is it your weird uncle’s Wonka (Tim Burton’s hallucinogenic 2005 take, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” with Johnny Depp as Wonka). This is the story of Wonka, not of greedy kids being tortured (well, except for the good kid) by a reclusive chocolatier in a candy factory. And with King (who gave us “Paddington” and “Paddington 2”) at the helm, “Wonka” sands off the rougher, darker edges of the previous two Wonka films and ladles on the charm, sentiment, fun and songs. Lots of songs. They’re all catchy in their own way. And even if you are not a fan of musicals, you might just find  yourself tapping your toes and singing along. … Chalamet might not have been a good fit were he playing an older, cynical Wonka, but he was the perfect choice for this incarnation. He is a so-so singer, but it matters little in this context as he exudes wide-eyed exuberance and dogged determination in pursuing his dreams of making others happy. Lane’s Noodle makes for a perfect sidekick, and her character lends to the story’s sentiment. She and Chalamet have a comfortable chemistry that makes them infinitely likeable protagonists. Both (and the rest of the cast) deliver lines loaded with fun and clever wordplay without a hitch. … Everyone in the cast does their job well, but Key is especially funny as an officer who can’t stop eating chocolate; and Oscar-winner Colman, with bad teeth and heavy Cockney accent, is wicked fun in a change-of-pace role as Mrs. Scrubitt, the proprietor of the laundry/boarding facility. … Everything here is so bouncy and well-paced that the 116-minute run time breezes past, which will help if you have young children in tow. … Although “Wonka” is all about fun, King also manages to weave in heavier material – most notably about class divisions and the ruthless nature of business – without bogging down the proceedings.

What I didn’t like about it: When I saw the trailer for “Wonka,” it looked like something I would want to see EXCEPT for a cringey appearance by Grant as an Oompa Loompa. And although Grant wasn’t as awful as that brief trailer appearance suggested, his scenes were the least enjoyable in the movie. He was weird looking (his size relative to other characters and scenery seemed to waffle) and not particularly charming or funny. … The third act, in which Wonka and friends try to expose the chocolate cartel, was the weakest, taking the film toward a different tone until it recovered by delivering teary sentimentality at the end.

Who it will appeal to: Audiences of most ages, families

My score: 81 out of 100.

My son and I watched “Shin Godzilla” (Japanese; 2016; horror/sci-fi/action; running time 2 hours; directed by Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi, written by Anno; N/R but includes creature violence; initially released July 29, 2016 in Japan, available on VOD and streaming services) when it came to U.S. theaters in October 2016, and I had fond recollections of it. My son, 18 at the time and a huge Godzilla fan, considered it one of the best, if not THE best, films in the franchise at the time. I rewatched “Shin Godzilla” this week (at home on a borrowed Blu-Ray) and didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. Part of the problem was that I was viewing it on the heels of having seen the latest film in the franchise, “Godzilla Minus One,” twice in theaters and thinking that it is not only a great Godzilla movie but a great piece of entertaining filmmaking. Though both films are the product of Toho Studios, they are worlds apart in approach. Both are reboots (in each, the Japanese are getting their first glance of the giant lizard monster), and both are built around the same premise – Godzilla is destroying Japan, and Japan needs to deal with it. But where “Godzilla Minus One” wraps Godzilla’s wrath in a human story with well-developed characters who band together outside the realm of official government action to take on the King of Monsters, “Shin Godzilla” is a government procedural about bureaucracy and how it interferes as much as helps during time of disaster. Godzilla is as terrorizing as ever, but “Shin Godzilla” asks the audience to listen to seemingly infinite government officials talk, talk, talk through choppy editing and feels cold and clinical. It works as satire, and in its best moments it is interesting and subtly funny, but it’s also dry for a monster movie series that is supposed to be fun.

Set in current times, Godzilla first appears in Tokyo Bay, and it doesn’t take long for the monster to wreak havoc. The government is forced into action … or inaction. If there’s a main character here (and there are a LOT of characters; IMDB lists 72 actors in the cast) it’s Deputy Chief Cabinet Secretary Rando Yaguchi (Hiroki Hasegawa), an ambitious young government official who has to be reminded to not step out of line. He is among the first to recognize that Godzilla is a monster capable of coming inland, and he presses for action when those with more authority want to be more cautious, knowing the political ramifications. Yaguchi is just pushy enough to get a promotion, and he sets up shop with a bunch of computer nerds who will try to figure out how to best deal with Godzilla while limiting the loss of human life. Godzilla, feeding off radiation, is growing larger, stronger and more resilient each day. Is the military capable of stopping him?

This Godzilla morphs, and when he first slithers onto land, he looks goofy, like a paper dragon in a Chinese New Year parade. But he gets scarier, especially when he uses his heat ray, shot out not only from his mouth but his tail. This Godzilla was filmed through motion capture (with Mansai Nomura portraying the monster), and the results are hit-and-miss. Godzilla is plenty destructive, like when he tosses around boats in a bay. But in scenes in which humans are running from him, the monster feels detached from the situation. None of the government officials are compelling, and as such it’s difficult to root for them. The film pokes fun at the Japanese government but also Americans. The U.S. president, whose face we never see, sounds a lot like a goofy parody of George W. Bush. And a Japanese-American character (Satomi Ishihara as Kayoco Anne Patterson, a politically ambitious special envoy for the U.S. president) comes across as a brat who makes her first appearance in front of Japanese government officials still in a party dress. The score is pure action movie; heavy-handed and omnipresent, though it wisely incorporates old Godzilla music motifs. “Shin Godzilla,” at least sometimes, does what it is trying to do – mock the government – well. But it needed less government and more monster.

My score: 65 out of 100

Most of us seek professional help, bask in extra sunlight, focus on self-care or endlessly Google for answers when battling depression. Dutch filmmaker Lars von Trier explored his depression and the therapy he received for it with a trilogy of movies unofficially called, not surprisingly, “Depression Trilogy.” “Melancholia” (French/Danish/Swedish/German; 2011; apocalyptic sci-fi/psychological drama; running time 2 hours, 10 minutes; written and directed by von Trier; rated R for sexual content, language, some graphic nudity; initially released May 18, 2011, at the Cannes Film Festival, available on VOD and streaming services, including Hulu and Amazon Prime Video) is the middle of the three – between “Antichrist” (2009) and “Nymphomaniac” (2013) – and generally regarded as the best of the them. It’s sad, strange and hauntingly beautiful as von Trier uses a blatantly obvious metaphor – a rogue planet called Melancholia that is on a collision course with Earth – and two female characters whose personalities are based on the filmmaker to explore the human condition and how we might react if the end of days was near, and how depression would play into how we handle the situation.

After a surrealistic, slow- and stop-motion montage of unsettling moments (they will make more sense later) set to the sound of Wagner’s “Tristan and Isolde,” we meet Justine (Kirsten Dunst in a remarkable performance) as she and her newlywed husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgard) are riding to their wedding reception in a stretch limo but are stuck on a narrow, curvy road. They arrive hours late and are greeted by Justine’s sister (Charlotte Gainsbourg as Claire) and her husband (Kiefer Sutherland as John), a wealthy man who runs the site of the reception, a golf resort, and has funded the event. All seems ordinary, but it isn’t; something is off about Justine. She doesn’t seem to be as happy as most brides on the big day. Claire reminds her not to cause a scene. Justine ducks out for a nap, and then a long bath, and the reception deteriorates from there. Before the end of the night, Justine will have had sex on the golf course with a young new fellow employee (Brady Corbet as Tim) assigned to shadow her, and her marriage will be over almost as soon as it started. Justine’s story takes up the first chapter; the second chapter focuses more on Claire, who is anxious about the possibility of Melancholia (a planet that has been “hiding behind the sun”) crashing into Earth, despite reassurances from her husband, an amateur astronomer. But John is not taking any chances, secretly stocking up on survival supplies. Claire, because she is depressed, is more calm about the possible collision of planets. She also sees the end of Earth as a plus because, in her mind, life is terrible on it. Claire more clearly senses the doom, obsessively watching as Melancholia hurtles closer to Earth. It’s the end of the world as they know it, and neither feels fine.

Von Trier gives the audience much to unravel and leaves most everything open to interpretation with “Melancholia.” We eventually deduct from the opening montage that Melancholia will indeed slam into Earth. But, when the story jumps to the wedding reception, how many, if any, of the characters know? Is their behavior, especially that of Justine and her cynical mother Gaby (Charlotte Rampling), shaped by the impending doom? John frequently cites reports that scientists believe Melancholia will fly past harmlessly, but can we trust him? Is he just trying to help his wife Claire cope? Later, after the reception, Justine tells Claire that she can “see things,” so did she know during the reception that everyone’s days were numbered? Or was that the depression speaking? Despite the doom, “Melancholia” is darkly funny and gorgeous (made more so by Wagner’s music, which von Trier purposely overuses). Even the invading planet, bathed in blue, is described by one character as “friendly looking.” And, somehow, the final shot is as arresting as it is devastating, even though we know it’s coming. You wouldn’t want a happy ending from a movie called “Melancholia” that is part of the “Depression Trilogy.”  Right?

My score: 88 out of 100.

“Seeking a Friend for the End of the World” (American; 2012; apocalyptic rom-com-dram; running time 1 hour, 41 minutes; written and directed by Lorene Scafaria; rated R for language, brief violence, sexual references, some drug use; initially released June 18, 2012, at the Los Angeles Film Festival, available on VOD services, including YouTube) is mostly watchable and occasionally endearing, which is remarkable given it is such a flawed bit of filmmaking. Credit to its leads, the mismatched Steve Carell and Keira Knightley, who try to breathe life into human clichés and bring tenderness to the story despite their lack of chemistry and unconvincing romance. Scafaria, in her directorial debut, allows her movie to dance between tones and intentions, and the result is a movie that mostly doesn’t work as an end-of-days love story, road trip tale or satire about the apocalypse, or any combination of the three.

Carell is Dodge, a sad sack presumably in his early 40s. He is an insurance agent who dresses neatly in sweaters and is about as exciting as a blank piece of paper. We learn in the opening scene (through a lazy storytelling device, a radio broadcast) that an asteroid dubbed Matilda is headed toward Earth and a last-ditch mission to reroute it has failed, leaving those on Earth with just 21 days. Dodge’s wife immediately leaves him, and he becomes even sadder. He starts gulping codeine-infused cough medicine. Dodge seems content to live out his last three weeks not doing much of anything. Until … he takes in a stray dog. Then he sees a young neighbor (Knightley as Penny) sobbing while standing on a fire escape outside his window. She has broken up with her live-in deadbeat musician boyfriend (a hilarious Adam Brody as Owen) and (too easily) finds comfort in Dodge’s arms. They form an unusual friendship given that they are at least a dozen years apart (they were 23 years apart in real life) and that Penny is impulsive, flighty, upbeat and fun and is … you guessed it … a manic pixie dream girl (the quirky hair, quirky clothes, Chucks and a hipster record collection are dead giveaways) whose purpose will be to make Dodge’s last few days on Earth happy and full of love. Dodge is going to try and reconnect with his high school sweetheart while helping Penny find a flight back to her family in England. A road trip ensues, as does that love thing. None of it will matter really because everyone is about to die.

This being a rom-com-dram, the rom part needs to click, and here it just doesn’t. Even if you can suspended belief and convince yourself that Penny would fall for a much older dial tone like Dodge (maybe she does so because of the desperate situation?), the pair would need to have romantic chemistry. And though they share a couple of tender moments, Carell and Knightley just don’t work as a couple. Dodge, again perhaps because of the situation, falls quickly (after refusing to be fixed up by friends and rejecting physical advances from a friend’s wife), telling Penny that she is “the love of his life” even after knowing her for less than two weeks. Carell is sometimes dryly funny (even without much material to work with) but often annoyingly mopey. Knightley is suitably peppy, but her character needed more of her own story. “Seeking a Friend for the End of the World” works best in the first act, with pokes at TV news (an anchorman reminds viewers, who have just hours to live, to set their clocks forward one hour) and hedonistic behavior (guests at a party do heroin, and a single man, played by Patton Oswalt, seizes upon the situation to seek adventurous sex because the apocalypse has “leveled the playing field” for guys like him). The road trip section goes nowhere, and the final act pours on the sugary schlock, including when Dodge reconnects with his long-estranged father (Martin Sheen as Frank) and Penny chooses her new “love” over family. Given the central concept, Scafaria’s film is remarkably ungloomy. Perhaps it would have been better-served by going just a little bit darker. After all, love or not, it’s the end of the world.

My score: 48 out of 100.

“Godzilla Minus One”

Genre: Sci-fi/action

Country: Japanese

Written and directed by (and special effects by): Takashi Yamazaki

Starring: Ryunosuke Kamiki, Minami Hamabe, Yuki Yamada, Munetaka Aoki, Hidetaka Yoshioka, Sakura Ando, Kuranosuke Sasaki, Mio Tanaka, Sae Nagatani

Rated: PG-13 for creature violence and action

Run time: 2 hours, 5 minutes

Release date: In theaters Dec. 1, 2023

Where I saw it: Republic Studio 10 Cinemas in Shelbyville, Ind., first on a Saturday afternoon and again Sunday afternoon, $7, six other people in the theater Saturday, two other people Sunday

What it’s about: Set in Japan at the end of World War II and following years, a kamikaze pilot (Kamiki as Koichi Shikishima) opts not to complete his mission and lands at a service base on an island, where he witnesses an attack by a monster the locals call Godzilla. After making his way to the mainland devasted by American airstrikes, Shikishima deals with post-service guilt and PTSD; takes in an orphaned young woman (Hamabe as Noriko Oishi) and an abandoned baby in her care; and lands a job recovering active mines from the sea. He and the boat’s ragtag crew (Yoshioka as the scientist Kenji Noda, Yamada as the inexperienced and overzealous Shir­o Mizushima, and Sasaki as seasoned and jaded captain Yoji Akitsu) are joined by citizens in trying to keep Japan from being further destroyed by a rampaging Godzilla.

What I liked about it: Everything. Don’t dismiss “Godzilla Minus One,” the 33^rd Godzilla entry from Japan’s Toho Studios and made to celebrate Godzilla’s upcoming 70^th anniversary, as just a monster movie. Sure, it’s about a monster. And what a monster! Godzilla has never seemed more terrifying, a feat that seems more remarkable given this film reportedly was made for $15 million USD (some sources have that number slightly lower, but others are skeptical that $15M might be low). But “Godzilla Minus One” is much, much more than Godzilla stomping around, breathing his atomic “heat ray” and tossing warships and trains into the air. It’s a summer blockbuster-type movie with great tension and heart, and with characters you’ll not only root for but feel for. Yamakazi’s work is equally engrossing during the dramatic moments – in a script that explores PTSD, patriotism, the horrors of war, connectivity and community, the reconstruction of Japan – as it is when Godzilla is making screaming hordes run away from him in the streets as he decimates an entire city. In a throwback to the original 1954 film “Godzilla,” this Godzilla is the menacing creature, not the anti-hero or the friendly protector of humanity. Empowered by radiation from American attacks and with the ability to quickly regenerate when injured, he is set on devastation. And he does a lot of it. … The centerpiece scene is when Godzilla attacks Ginza, a stretch of filmmaking that is flawless in execution and tone. … “Godzilla Minus One” owes a debt to Stephen Spielberg’s “Jaws” (and other Spielberg works) and Christopher Nolan’s “Dunkirk” (and other Nolan works) without ever feeling like the filmmaking has been ripped from either of them. The moments on the small wooden boat are straight out of “Jaws” right down to the fun camaraderie among the mismatched crew, and the scenes in which Shikishima is circling around Godzilla in a war plane are as exhilarating as anything in “Dunkirk.” … When I wasn’t crying about the fate of Shikishima and his makeshift family, I was recoiling in terror. Like when Godzilla’s foot appears out of nowhere in the Ginza scene and crushes everything underneath it as terrorized citizens run toward the camera. Or when Shikishima flies so close to Godzilla’s mouth that you would swear you were about to be swallowed. … “Godzilla Minus One” has much to say politically (including sea captain Akitsu’s criticism of his own government, and America’s decision to not help Japan with Godzilla because they don’t want to agitate Russia) but does so in a way that it never interferes with the entertainment. … Segments of the score by Naoki Sato will sound familiar to fans of the franchise, in the best of ways.

What I didn’t like about it: I THOUGHT I would not like a couple of late twists because they seemed either too corny or too convenient. But Yamazaki gives the moments palpable power and emotion with a well-placed brief flashback and perfectly written and delivered line from an unexpected voice.

Who it will appeal to: Anyone who doesn’t have an aversion to reading subtitles.

My score: 98 out of 100.