Catching up: The heavy-hitters, pt. 2

Bob Dylan, vampires, bad schools and a glass of milk.

Last week, I released part 1 of my reviews springing from a marathon movie session with the Michigan Movie Critics Guild – which released its list of best movies and performances earlier this week. Today, here’s part 2 of my thoughts of the movies screened during those two days. Three of these won’t be out until Christmas Day, while Nickel Boys doesn’t hit until 2025 for many cities. But figured I’d get my thoughts out while they’re still fairly fresh.

A Complete Unknown

It’s a bit bold for James Mangold to step back into the musical biopic arena after Walk the Line became the basis for Walk Hard, the parody that served as the final nail in the coffin for most of these movies. But here he is with A Complete Unknown, which similarly does for Bob Dylan what Mangold’s previous film did for Johnny Cash.

Mangold’s latest doesn’t attempt to wrap its arms around Dylan’s entire career the way Walk the Line did; instead, it limits its scope to the moment Dylan stepped on the scene and then ends when he “went electric” at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965. Initially relegated to playing cherished folk songs, Dylan becomes a sensation when his lyrics challenge preconceived notions and resonate with the youth in the tumultuous sixties, and his desire to evolve as an artist puts him at odds with the folk community.

I’ll admit that I’m not overly familiar with Dylan’s background. I like a lot of his music, but I don’t really know too much about his personal story. But Mangold’s film is about how that’s in line even with the people who thought they knew Dylan best. His backstory constantly shifted, he kept people at arm’s lengths, he was aloof with his lovers and abrasive with his supporters. Timothee Chalamet’s performance initially irked me because it seemed like an impression, with constant affectations. But that’s exactly the point; Bob Dylan was always playing a role, even in his personal moments. Chalamet’s extremely on point as Dylan and acquits himself well when singing; it might not be my favorite performance of the year, but I won’t be surprised when Chalamet nets himself an Oscar for it.

A Complete Unknown doesn’t reinvent or transcend the genre, but it does well by it. Mangold sticks to broad strokes but effectively captures the dynamics of the 1960s folk scene and explains why Dylan was so revolutionary and controversialy. The supporting cast, particularly Melissa Barbaro as Joan Baez, Elle Fanning (as Dylan’s lover Sylvie) and Edward Norton as Pete Seeger, is strong, although Mangold’s tendency to go broad renders characters like Albert Grossman (Dan Fogler) and Johnny Cash (Boyd Holdbrook) into caricatures – the latter is particularly egregious in a scene where Cash drunkenly crashes a car and offers Dylan some Bugles; it’s strange to see coming from the director of a perfectly good Johnny Cash movie.

Whether this is the definitive Dylan biopic is not for me to say. As a novice, I found it interesting but not particularly deep. It’s a perfectly fine entry point for potential Dylan fans, but I doubt the experts will walk away overly enlightened or impressed.

Nickel Boys

RaMell Ross’ adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is a powerful and immersive experience that puts audiences in the shoes of its characters in a way I’ve never seen.

The film follows two Black boys, Elwood and Turner, who meet and help each other endure at an abusive Florida reform school in the 1960s. Elwood is there after a misunderstanding and miscarriage of justice; he’s been raised to believe in progress, protest and the words of Dr. King, and he believes he can change things from the inside. Turner, whose road has been rougher, knows that no amount of good intentions will likely change the minds of the people in power. Elwood and Turner turn to each other for support in the rough time and the film chronicles their journey of survival and eventual attempt to escape; occasionally checking in with Elwood in the future, played by Daveed Diggs.

The first-person POV can take some time to get used to; Nickel Boys is a movie that teaches you how to watch it as it goes. Ross’ decision to switch the point of view between Elwood and Turner – with a few other perspectives briefly – might alienate some viewers, but it worked for me. Jomo Fray’s cinematography takes in small moments that immerse viewers in this world and story, and Nicholas Monsour’s editing shifts between the perspectives fluidly. This is a movie about the importance of bearing witness, and the decision to present the story in this manner not only puts us in the protagonists’ shoes, but also helps us understand the bond between Elwood and Turner, which grows more important as the film builds to its conclusion.

Nickel Boys is a powerful film, and I can’t wait to see what Ross does next.

Nosferatu

Robert Eggers’ retelling of the classic vampire story is gorgeously shot, saturated with dread, and there’s enough gore to satiate horror fans. Nicholas Hoult and Lily-Rose Depp head up a strong ensemble, with Bill Skarsgard creating a whole new monster to haunt your dreams and Willem Dafoe showing up for his yearly powerful dose of madness.

The film, as the original was, pulls heavily from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Hoult plays a newlywed realtor sent out from his German home to Transylvania to help Count Orlock (Skarsgard) transfer his assets. But he’s unaware that Orlock’s a blood-sucking beast awakened from his slumber by Hoult’s wife (Depp), who sought a guardian angel in childhood and got something more sinister instead.

I can think of few more perfect matches between director and material than Eggers and Nosferatu. Eggers is a master of mood, and Nosferatu gains a great deal from his atmospheric touch; every scene is bathed in shadow, almost as if it’s pushing the light – and hope – away. There’s an undercurrent of terror; this is an imagining of the story in which death is coming and there’s no escape. It’s scary and unsettling, and there are several good jolts and unforgettable images and sounds throughout (the noise Orlock makes when feasting on his victims is one I won’t soon forget).

And yet, this is a case of a movie being damned because it’s very good instead of great. The movie is a perfectly fine adaptation of this story, and I’m sure most horror fans will embrace it. But it feels a bit too calculated, and it never quite burrows under the skin or thrums with the energy of something like Eggers’ previous horror films, The Witch and The Lighthouse. I was often startled and in suspense, but when it was over, the movie stayed in the theater instead of following me home the way those films did. It’s not Eggers fault. He made a good movie; I just wanted something more.

Babygirl

Similar to my thoughts on Nosferatu, my complaints about Babygirl have more to do with me than with the film or its cast and crew. Halina Reijn moves on from Bodies Bodies Bodies to deliver a stylish and sexy sophomore film. And Nicole Kidman gives one of her best performances in years as a strong woman who can’t find a way to live with her own secrets. It’s well made; it’s fine.

But I personally have a hard time with movies featuring explicit sexuality, and it’s hard for me to embrace a movie where the protagonist embarks on an affair. Maybe I’m just old and set in my ways. But Babygirl never proved to me that its explicitness was there for anything other than titillation, and it felt too much like a glossy Skinemax movie with an A-list cast. It’s silly when it wants to be profound, and its sex scenes feel too much like provocation rather than honest dialogue about sexuality, psychology and marriage.

Kidman, as I said, is great as a tech CEO who’s uptight, stressed and anxious. She’s not unhappy; she has a loving husband (Antonio Banderas) and their sex life seems fine. But she doesn’t like the vanilla stuff her marriage has settled into, and responds strongly when a young intern (Harris Dickinson) pushes her buttons, first insulting her but then picking up on the fact that she, perhaps, likes being told what to do (this involves two sure-to-be notorious sequences involving a glass, and then a saucer, of milk). The two embark on an affair that threatens to tear her family and business apart.

I have no problem with movies that genuinely want to explore sex and psychology or marriage. But Babygirl feels designed only for its moviestar actress to get into various stages of undress and push the boundaries of onscreen sex scenes. While I understood the dynamic between Harris and Kidman, I never bought that their relationship was based on any psychological reality; she jumps at the boundary pushing too quickly, and their meetings seem too silly and over-the-top for me to take seriously. It’s also a movie where a quick conversation or clarification could solve half the problems, but the movie keeps chugging ahead.

Like I said, this might be more of an issue with me. Maybe I’m old-fashioned; there’s a point where this movie felt less like exploration and more like titillation and that’s not something I prefer to set before my eyes. But I also think the film’s script is too tin-eared and implausible, its relationship between the leads feels like something out of a fantasy (instead of two real people exploring a fantasy) than a reality. It never worked for me.

I will, however, call out Antonio Banderas’ performance. For most of the film, I thought he was doing the work he tends to do these days, popping up in a film without having to do too much. But a scene late in the film where all the cards are finally laid on the table and he has to respond is riveting, and he lends the film the only emotionally real moment. The rest of Babygirl just wasn’t my cup of milk.