She Said: A Review - Agenda is No Subsitute for Drama

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. This absolutely awful, dreadfully dull, banal bore of a film is a muddled misfire.

I missed seeing She Said, the story of how New York Times investigative reporters Jodi Kantor and Meghan Twohey exposed the Harvey Weinstein scandal, when it premiered in theatres this past November. I wasn’t the only one not to see it as the movie was a major flop, bringing in only $12 million on a $32 million budget.

But She Said, which is based on the book of the same name and stars Carey Mulligan and Zoe Kazan, is now available to stream on Peacock and I just had the great displeasure of watching it.

This dreadfully dull movie is directed by a hapless Maria Schrader and written by an even more hapless Rebecca Lenkiewicz, and is a sort of procedural journalism drama minus the drama….and storytelling, and craftsmanship and skill.

She Said is what happens when a movie is all agenda and no drama or cinematic skill. It’s expected in this day and age that people – the “right-thinking people” anyway, will love this type of movie just because it exists and because it holds the correct cultural/political opinion.

Just so viewers know what the correct opinion is, the film gives them a totally ham-fisted scene early on where the two female reporters and their female editor go to a bar in the middle of the day to talk about the story they’re developing. At the bar a drunk thirty-something white frat bro tries to hit on them and Carey Mulligan’s Twohey defiantly stands up to him and shouts him down. You go girl!! The dude then stumbles away muttering about “frigid bitches”. Then Mulligan’s Twohey apologizes to the women she’s with, Kazan’s steely-eyed Kantor retorts, “don’t apologize.” So brave.

This scene is so bizarre, contrived and hackneyed it’s actually unintentionally hysterical. I mean, the scene opens with the waitress bringing over menus and placing them in front of the women and saying, “these are the menus!” That sort of clumsy, amateurish dialogue and blocking is omnipresent throughout She Said.

As for the drunk white thirty something frat bro, that day drinking, horny character is so obscenely absurd as to be ridiculous. But what makes that scene even more funny is that later in the film Twohey and Kantor strut down the street in New York in a long shot and they approach and then walk past two construction workers chatting next to a construction site. I fully expected a cat-calling scene and another Twohey “and then everyone clapped” superhero moment of standing up to predatory men, but then I noticed the construction workers weren’t white guys but minorities and I knew Twohey and Kantor were safe. And sure enough…they walk by unmolested! The lesson, as always, is that only white men are misogynists and sexual predators.

Critics of course are among that desperate-to-be-approved-of group who respond to this sort of vapid virtue signaling (because they do it so much themselves), and so they have written positively about the film because they know they’re supposed to. The paradigm in these situations becomes ‘if you dislike this movie then you love Harvey Weinstein!’, and critics on the whole are much too spineless to actually speak the truth about this movie and risk being seen as ‘bad people’.

She Said isn’t even really a movie, it’s a two-hour and ten-minute #MeToo virtue signal by the New York Times and the female filmmakers meant to extract money from ideologically enthralled fools in the audience and awards from similarly comported morons in Hollywood.

Journalism movies are no easy task. For every All the President’s Men and Spotlight, there’s something abysmal and trite like Spielberg’s The Post, but She Said makes The Post look like Citizen Kane.  

All of those journalism movies had the same obstacle to overcome as She Said, which is that audiences all know how it turns out in the end. We know The Washington Post nails Nixon Watergate, and that the Boston Globe publishes the sex abuse scandal articles, and in this case that The New York Times publishes and Weinstein gets busted.

But nothing is revealed in this movie that we didn’t already know about what the deplorable and disgusting rapist, brute and bully Weinstein was up to, and even the re-telling of known facts is so poorly pieced together as to be laughable. Hell, the biggest obstacle/villain in this movie is Ronan Farrow who might break the story before Twohey and Kantor. And the fact that Weinstein’s Israeli “security team” was out committing crimes and intimidating witnesses and journalists is something She Said refuses to ever admit or acknowledge, is a pretty damning decision in terms of credibility.

In Spotlight, director Tom McCarthy, who isn’t exactly Orson Welles, uses some cinematic and dramatic flair when he crafts his story. For example, in one scene, three characters, two reporters and their editor, simply discuss the story they’re trying to crack, but they do it in a dimly lit basement library which smells because of a dead rat. The characters all comment on how dark and stinky it is and that is great sub-text because it informs both the scene and the overarching narrative of the movie. That scene construction is pretty simple, but nothing like that exists in She Said. Instead, She Said is a litany of women walking and talking on phones.

Another huge issue with the film is that it never clearly lays out the puzzle pieces the reporters must put together in order to “win” – which in this case means getting the story published, resulting in a terribly muddled and unsatisfying movie that have no pulse and no dynamism.

The cast of this film is a collection of very good actresses, but none of them do quality work in it.

I think very highly of Carey Mulligan, but her work as Meghan Twohey is embarrassing it’s so awful. Mulligan’s chesty American accent is tinny and her supposed profound girl power glares and glances laughable.

Zoe Kazan too is a terrific actress but she is as dead-eyed and dull in her role as Jodi Kantor as I’ve ever seen. At one point Kazan’s Kantor comes to life, which is when she bursts into tears when she learns a victim will go on the record against Weinstein. How professional!

Weinstein is not shown from the front in the film (although we hear his voice and see him from behind) because the filmmakers didn’t want to “center” him but preferred to “center” his victims, but the victims aren’t “centered” either. We learn next to nothing about anybody in this movie, and we certainly don’t care about anybody.

Actress Ashley Judd, one of Weinstein’s victims, plays herself in the movie and I understand why that happened, but that choice is undermined when other celebrities, like Gwyneth Paltrow, do not appear even though we hear their voices (I don’t know if it’s Gwyneth’s real voice or not).

The structure of the movie is nonsensical as well. We get flashbacks to a young Irish girl stumbling upon a movie set and later running down the street crying, and we get Meghan Twohey’s pregnancy and post-partum depression (spoiler alert - men are the cause of post-partum depression!!), before we ever get into the story, but none of this is cinematically coherent or narratively comprehensible.

Let me be as clear as I can about this…Harvey Weinstein and his ilk…like Matt Lauer, and Charlie Rose and Les Moonves and all the rest of the predatory douchebags who have long populated Hollywood and every other industry, should get the Vlad the Impaler treatment and have their eyes plucked out by ravens as they bleed to death out of their assholes.

Let me also clearly state that She Said is an absolutely awful, dreadfully dull, banal bore of a film that is a total waste of not only two hours and ten-minutes but also of a fascinating and important story.

She Said should’ve done for the Weinstein scandal what All the President’s Men did for Watergate and Spotlight did for the Catholic Church sex scandal. But due to abysmally poor directing, writing and acting, the movie is a gigantic failure. I guess all I can say is better luck next time. Maybe if they ever make a Ronan Farrow biopic – now that’s a compelling story, they’ll get a writer and director who have half a clue. Maybe, just maybe, they won’t fuck that one up. Oh, who am I kidding…they’ll definitely fuck that one up too.

©2023

The Last Movie Stars (HBO Max): A Documentary Review

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. An insightful and thoughtful examination of two Hollywood icons and their long marriage.

The Last Movie Stars is a six-episode documentary mini-series which examines the lives, careers and marriage of acting icons Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman. The series was directed by actor Ethan Hawke and is currently streaming on HBO Max.

Since well before I was ever born, Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were the standard for the perfect marriage. Newman was the impossibly handsome, gracious, generous and grounded movie star, and Woodward was his down-to-earth, doting wife, mother to his kids and a powerful, Academy Award winning actress in her own right.

I once had the surreal experience of sitting directly behind them at a play at the Brooklyn Academy of Music about twenty years ago, and was struck by two things…how ridiculously beautiful they both were and how unnervingly normal they were as a couple. If it weren’t for their impeccable bone structure and piercing eyes, they could have been any other old couple out for a night at the theatre.

The Last Movie Stars attempts to go beyond the sterling façade of Newman and Woodward’s marriage and reveal their personal complexities and their deeply complicated relationship to one-another, their kids and their art.

Hawke obviously respects, admires and adores his subjects, and the series is much closer to hagiography than hit piece, but to his credit, he doesn’t dismiss or ignore the messier aspects of both Woodward and Newman’s lives. For instance, though it is done with a loving touch and no sense of animosity, Newman and Woodward’s children speak frankly and freely about their father’s alcoholism and their mother’s somewhat indifference to raising children. The rather uncomfortable topic of how the two met and started dating is also thoroughly explored and it isn’t the least bit flattering to Newman…or Woodward.

Hawke bases his documentary on a discarded memoir that Newman had intended to write with the help of a co-writer. Newman gave that writer permission to interview everyone in Paul’s life, which the writer did. But the tapes of those interviews were burned when Newman decided against the book…but thankfully the transcripts of those recordings have now been found and are the roadmap for The Last Movie Stars.

To bring those transcripts to life Hawke enlists a bunch of famous actor friends to voice the people from the transcripts. For example, George Clooney voices Paul Newman, Laura Linney is Joanne Woodward, Zoe Kazan is Paul’s first wife Jackie, Bobby Cannavale is Elia Kazan and so on and so forth.

It is somewhat ironic that George Clooney voices Paul Newman as his casting proves the title’s point. Newman was a mega-movie star with an Actor’s Studio background who dominated movies for forty years. Clooney was supposed to be as big of a star but he lacked, first and foremost, the craft and skill of Newman, but also his charisma and his artistic prowess.

There’s a very strong argument that Newman really was the last movie star because he was a “method actor” raised in the studio system who transitioned through the artistic/business revolution of the 60’s and 70’s without losing any of his star power.

George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise and all the rest of the recent era wannabes have certainly had success, but their cinematic, cultural and artistic power is minuscule compared to Paul Newman.

Much to my surprise, Hawke’s decision to voice cast the film with well-known actors works astonishingly well. In addition, Hawke’s rapport with his cast in side discussions is endearing and brings a familial feel to the festivities.

 As for Newman and Woodward, their individual journeys and their journey together, are simply remarkable.

Newman came up during the Method Acting revolution of the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. He attended the Actor’s Studio in New York with luminaries such as Marlon Brando and James Dean.

Newman was born ten months after Brando, but he was no Brando. He wasn’t James Dean, either. But thanks to an undying work ethic and an astonishingly persistent relationship with luck he carved out a career path that outlasted (but not outshone) them both.

As an actor Newman was different than Brando and Dean in that he wasn’t about emoting but withholding. Everything happening in a Newman character is happening beneath the surface, in a cauldron boiling deep in his famous blue eyes. That somewhat reserved approach at first left him overshadowed by his supernova contemporaries, Brando and Dean.

But then luck intervened and James Dean’s untimely death opened the door to Newman’s ascension and directly led to his being cast in Somebody Up There Likes Me.

Brando’s erraticism and combustibility eventually led him to burn out and self-destruct, while Newman’s tightly contained personality kept his career from ever falling apart. And so, Paul Newman, by sheer force of will, perseverance and luck, became the actor of his generation.

Joanne Woodward was a great actress in her own right. She was the bigger star when the two met, and early in their relationship she won a Best Actress Oscar (Three Faces of Eve). But patriarchal demands forced parenthood to replace career ambitions for her just as Paul’s career went meteoric. That would be a thorn in her side for the rest of their time together.

Woodward’s filmography is often overlooked, and even Zoe Kazan, a terrific young actress who’s a talking head in the documentary – and who happens to be Elia Kazan’s granddaughter, shockingly admits she has never seen a Joanne Woodward film. That’s a shame as in her heyday she was as good as anyone on screen. Her work in Three Faces of Eve and Rachel, Rachel is impressive and worth a watch to get a taste of her talent.

Newman’s filmography needs no introduction, and his work in The Hustler, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Cool Hand Luke, Hud, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Verdict and The Color of Money is must-see for any aspiring actor.

Watching The Last Move Stars is enjoyable because it gives Woodward and Newman’s work a new perspective that reveals even deeper meaning to their artistry. And that’s the thing about this supposed Hollywood glamour couple that is so compelling and impressive, and that is their commitment to two things, their art and each other.

Through thick and thin they stuck it out. They didn’t bail when things got tough, and things often got very tough. They endured, and that is a lesson for every couple out there, even the ones who aren’t glamourous movie stars.

Yes, Woodward and Newman stumbled a lot, both artistically and as people. For instance, Newman was a terribly flawed man and a failed father, but he was ever on the search for forgiveness and/or redemption. His staggeringly impressive charitable work, including his camp for seriously ill children and his Newman’s Own food lines, speak to that yearning.

Despite the slings and arrows of life, or maybe because of them, Woodward and Newman never lost their humanity. It’s their flaws and failings and their steadfast refusal to give up in the face of them that make them relatable and even more captivating as a couple.

The Last Movie Stars is as insightful a documentary about movie stars as you’ll find because it focuses less on the myth and more on the humans embodying the myth. Ultimately, this documentary is, like the stars it attempts to explore, most notable for its humanity, and that’s a credit not only to the extraordinary Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, but to Ethan Hawke.

©2022

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs: A Review

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SEE IT. One of the Coen’s very best films that is both disturbing and funny and distrubingly funny.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, written and directed by the Coen Brothers, is a six-part western anthology available on Netflix that stars Liam Neeson, Tim Blake Nelson, James Franco, Zoe Kazan and Tom Waits.

Much like Steven Soderbergh, the Coen brothers are held up by some to be cinematic gods and geniuses who can do no wrong. Once again, I disagree with my cinephile brethren on this point but not to the same degree as I do regarding Soderbergh. That said, I am more agnostic on the Coen cult than I am an atheist.

I find the Coens to be at times brilliant and at times terrible, and rarely in between. For instance, No Country For Old Men is a phenomenal film, where as Burn After Reading is an abomination. For every Fargo there is a Hudsucker Proxy, for every A Serious Man there is a The Ladykillers.

The Coens are famous for their subversive dark comedy, but for me I much prefer them when they lean more towards the dark and less towards the comedy. Because of this, my moments of Coen appreciation and distaste are often at odds with popular opinion. Unlike most people, I am not a fan of The Big Lebowski or O Brother, Where Art Thou, but love The Man Who Wasn’t There and Hail, Caesar!

Which brings us to The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is structured as six chapters that are not connected to each other in anyway except that they are set in the old west. This anthology approach behooves the Coens because it allows them to touch upon both the dark and the comedy without ever having to fully commit to either. It is also a benefit when watching it on Netflix because you can watch it smaller increments and not miss anything, which will benefit those with shorter attention spans (which seems to be all of us).

The first chapter in the film is titled “The Ballad of Buster Scruggs” and is easily my least favorite. I almost didn’t make it through this chapter because it is so forcibly “Coen” with its comedic sensibilities. It also didn’t help that Tim Blake Nelson is the lead actor in this chapter, as I find him to be a less than appealing screen presence.

This first chapter is an over the top send up of westerns and and for me bordered on the unbearable. This is just a matter of taste so others may appreciate it, but I almost turned the movie off and never returned. Thankfully I didn’t.

The second chapter, titled “Near Algodones”, is where the film starts to take flight. In this chapter James Franco plays a bank robber who gets taken on a twisting and turning journey. This chapter shows the Coens trodding their well-worn but well-played ironic existentialist playground.

Chapter three, titled “Meal Ticket”, which stars Liam Neeson and Harry Melling is simply fantastic as it follows a pair of showmen traveling the old west. Melling dazzles as the showman and Neeson does his best Irish brooding in years. This chapter is almost peak Coens and it is a cinematic delight.

Chapter four, titled “All Gold Canyon”, which stars Tom Waits, is the slowest paced of all the chapters, but it still delivers a powerful cinematic punch. Waits is fantastic as a gold miner who stumbles across Eden and lives out a biblical fable. The Coen’s use of animal symbolism in this section adds one more layer onto the usual mountain of old testament morality which they so frequently and effectively mine (pun intended).

Just when you think the film has peaked along comes Chapter Five, titled “The Gal Who got Rattled”, which stars Zoe Kazan as a young woman making the long journey west with a wagon train. Kazan dazzles as Alice Longabaugh, a delicate young woman who is forced to face a cruel world and an uncertain future. This chapter may be the very best thing the Coen’s have ever made.

Kazan, the granddaughter of the iconic filmmaker Elia Kazan, gives a beguiling and compelling performance that never falls into caricature. Her ability to fill her character with a vivid inner life and intentionality allows her to be vibrant on screen even as she keeps herself tightly contained. I am not very familiar with Kazan’s earlier work, but I look forward to seeing how bright her future gets, I have a feeling it could be as bright as a supernova.

The final chapter, titled “ The Mortal Remains”, is interesting but not compelling enough and ends the film on a slight misstep. This chapter, which stars Tyne Daly, Brendan Gleeson and Saul Rubinek, is similar in some ways to the prologue in A Serious Man. The existential and mystical blend in this section, not always to great effect. While I thought this was one of the weaker chapters, I also thought it was the one that held the most potential. Sadly it never lives up to its intriguing premise.

On the whole the film, shot by Bruno Delbonnel, looks great with a simple yet precise visual style. What I appreciated was that, unlike say Soderbergh’s recent Netflix film High Flying Bird, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs looks lush and crisp even on the smaller screen.

In terms of the acting, it is very good across the board. Neeson, Melling, Waits and Kazan give truly impressive performances that elevate the film to great dramatic heights.

In conclusion, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is among the very best of the Coen Brothers filmography and I can’t recommend it to you highly enough. If you are a Coen brothers afficianado, you’ll love this movie, and even if you are lukewarm on them, you will find something to like in it. The film is dark, funny and darkly funny, but it also has a philosophy driving through it that gives it a narrative and mythic coherence.

The western genre is the most American of all film genres, and The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is a collection of epic fables that insightfully and accurately diagnose the American affliction. The American affliction that the Coens examine in this film is gaining in power and potency, and if we don’t understand its origins we will never survive this pandemic. A good place to begin to understand our affliction is by watching The Ballad of Buster Scruggs.

©2019