Killers of the Flower Moon

Killers of the Flower Moon is the kind of movie that you can’t help but watch, even as it breaks your heart. It is a towering and overwhelming creation.

The short story is that a simpleton named Ernest moves to Osage County. This place is flat, harsh land on which only the Osage people had lived, but now that oil has been discovered, everyone and their mothers are coming to see if they can strike it rich, too.

The long story is that, with the Osage now rich, non-natives have become bitter and resentful. As we follow Ernest on his odd jobs and drunken adventures, splitting time between his influential uncle Bill and his darling Molly (an Osage), we learn a heck of a lot.

World 1. Ernest and Molly; land and love.

Then Osage begin to die. High in number but low in age. It’s suspicious, it’s terrifying—and it’s probably about money. Might Bill know something about it? Or might Ernest, straddling two worlds?

Mixed montages; rolling music; exquisite production and set design all create these worlds for us. And superb acting throws us into the thick of them.

Filled with love and loss, Killers of the Flower Moon offers drama and intrigue, yes. But also, an ode to an entire people.

World 2. Ernest and Bill. Another lesson.

Elvis

Elvis is a jerky, jam-packed marathon of a movie. You just might like it.

If nothing else, you’ll learn a thing or two about the poor white boy from the poor Black neighborhood who grew up to be world-famous. Elvis Presley, singer, actor, and cultural phenomenon, remains to this day the best-selling solo musical artist of all time.

I do not exaggerate, though this movie does. Often. It warps our field of vision, camera zipping around like a mosquito that drank too much soda. The narration (like its narrator) is campy and carnivalesque.

All of that makes the movie feel especially Hollywood. Aside from reintroducing Elvis’s hits with wonderful, booming sound, it remixes songs and adds contemporary ones, seemingly trying to explain to us what the “cool” energy of the past was by melding it with some “cool” energy of today. I think it misses its mark, and got the feeling it was stereotyping the very cultures and communities it was trying to pay homage to.

And yet . . . and yet, this movie is filled with goodness. It shows off the talented titans and everypersons of Black culture who so heavily influenced Elvis’s music. It shows us a man who was both softie and outgoing, devoted to his Momma and to creating happiness in this world. As for the acting, Elvis is portrayed masterfully; the performances of Elvis’s family are good at worst.

We follow Elvis from childhood inspiration through untimely death, one formative moment at a time—of which there were apparently many. Although early scenes can feel both too long and too short, the final 40 or so minutes are simply riveting. These by themselves make the movie worth a watch. Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has re-entered the building.

Something old, something new; something borrowed, something pink.

The Green Knight

Oh, the silly games we play . . . the things we do for what we think we need . . .  

So, what do you play for? More stuff? More money? Or do you yearn for those intangibles like love, or recognition?

Young Gawain usually plays for pleasure. As King Arthur’s nephew, he’s able to take advantage of all the bounty that medieval times can possibly offer. Drink and women seem to be high on the list. 

But he wants more—honor, to be exact. Inadequacy gnaws at his brain as he sits among legends like the King and his knights. Connected he is, but proven he is not. As luck (or something else?) would have it, a special challenge might solve Gawain’s problem.

On Christmas, when gifts are exchanged, the Green Knight visits the King’s court. And our world is changed forevermore. 

This knight is something wild. Unnaturally natural. When he offers a test that not even Arthurian legends will take, Gawain licks his puppy lips and bites.

What follows is a dark, mystical, and fantastical journey. The moviemakers—and without a doubt, the writer and director David Lowery—have reveled in the fact that the tale of Gawain and the Green Knight is centuries old and has many different versions: They’ve taken a cue from this and flooded their own telling with symbolism, double entendres, camera tricks, actor re-use, stunning sound and visuals and other tools that, quite simply, confuse us to high heaven. This is not a bad thing.

Legends exist for a reason, regardless of whether we can decipher it. They make us feel a certain way about the nature of the world and how we make our place in it. The Green Knight’s moviemakers understand this, play with it, and bask in it. Give this movie a watch with that in mind, and you just might awe in the confusion, too.

The Loneliest Whale: The Search for 52

There’s a whale out there who has swam alone all of its life, crying into the vast nothingness of the oceans and never hearing a reply.

What a sad story—and one that we are all too ready to believe is true. You see, we don’t actually know the details of 52’s life. The scant data we have simply tells us that it communicates at a frequency which we haven’t encountered before or since. 52 hertz, hence the name, 52.

The Loneliest Whale is the riveting story of the first ever search for 52 in the flesh—if it’s still out there. We learn about the military who first discovered this phenomenon, the civilian scientists who dedicated years to studying the unknown, and one moviemaker who, like so many others, had his life change after learning this story.

The movie condenses years of preparation—and shows mere days of electric, open-sea adventure—in a way that puts the videos you watched in science class to shame. It’s a modern-day treasure hunt which also explores why so many people identify with an animal yearning for connection.

This duality is what makes the movie. It’s curious and playful even as it helps us contemplate serious (and sometimes uncomfortable) questions about connection and meaning in our world. The pace is smooth and engaging, and yet in only one hour and thirty-six minutes is still reminiscent of the highs and lows of life: Brief moments of ecstasy as we approach majestic creatures are balanced out by the more typical—and many—mundane moments. 

Having hooked us with all that, the movie draws us in with booming, plaintive whale songs. I could listen to these endlessly. It’s a language like ours, from a creature who thinks and feels and has families. Hearing it, knowing this, will have the sound resonate through every fiber of your being. This is just one example of how the movie will affect you.

The needle in the haystack may never have been so thoughtfully used to weave a story.

America: The Motion Picture

Lest you forget that the Declaration of Independence was written over a game of beer pong, or that Washington and Lincoln were totes besties . . . behold, America: The Motion Picture.

It throws whatever you know about American history into a blender, and pours out a raunchy, pun-filled adventure. Namely, some of America’s biggest names form a supergroup to, well, form the nation.

It’s mostly outrageous, and often hilarious. Take Sam Adams. He’s just a beer-chugging college bro, with blind dedication that’s somehow endearing—and racist giggles that’re telling. The writing respects people’s contributions while acknowledging their (grievous) faults. But what’s it all for?

Washington is our main character, and his inner journey leads him to realize that what makes America great is its openness. But in a whiplash moment even for such a wacky story, the movie ends with Americans fighting because of their differences, and Washington losing hope.

This is disappointing. If the moviemakers wanted to make a ridiculous, fun movie, they could’ve done so. But they brought in philosophy, and only did half the work.

Free thinking is not just a luxury, it is a responsibility to approach other ideas with patience and charity—especially if you disagree. The moviemakers seem smart enough to understand this, so the next time they make a movie about their country burning down, they’d do better than to simply draw a caricature from across the street, point, and laugh.

Cruella

In to déjà vu? Then Cruella is for you.

It’s the origin story of a fashion designer, though you need not care about clothes to enjoy: Everything about this outfit is high-end.

From the larger costume and set design down to the quirks of the perfectly acted, perfectly one-dimensional supporting characters, many of its threads are creative and entertaining. How can you not feel for a little girl wronged before she had a chance to do right? And did I mention that the lead acting is fantastic? Cruella and her frenemy boss provide brilliant, brilliantly wicked performances.

The problem is, we’ve seen this all before—and to better effect. A hard-driving, ungrateful superior; the strength of chosen family; revenge and dirty tactics posing as justice. OK, but what have you done for me lately?

Although the movie’s production aspects deserve display at the poshest runways and movie theaters, the goal of its writing seems to be lionizing a deranged selfishness. This is not something our world needs more of, and no amount of glamour should change that.

My Salinger Year

A movie about writing? Sounds risky. Everyone knows that words trigger; words attack. And worse still, words can be boring. Still with me?

The thing is, words make us who we are, and give us what we know. Actions speak loud enough, but when that moment has passed, I bet you’re going to say something. Because words matter.

Few people understand that this is a powerful magic. Even fewer like it enough to become magicians. We call them writers. And Joanna wants to be one.

She’s not sure how, but she’s determined. So she moves to New York and goes to open mic poetry. Sounds about right. How about taking a job as a literary agent’s assistant (whatever that means)?

Joanna will find out soon enough. It means typing form letters, shredding fan mail—and answering calls from J.D. Salinger.

Wow. Joanna is so close to great writing. But is it her writing? Here’s our conflict.

Watching Joanna learn the tricks of the trade is like visiting a new bookstore: It’s quiet but exciting, fresh but recognizable. If you’ve read this far, chances are you’ll like it.

The Dig

The Dig strikes gold, then gets greedy.

Edith can’t kick the feeling that something big is buried on her land. With world war and illness looming, finding it has become that much more important.

Basil agrees. He’s no archaeologist, but the man respects a dig.

What the two uncover will go down in history. But making history and being history are very different things. So Basil does double duty, giving and Edith and her son some perspective amidst the turmoil.

It is a simple and touching story. What’s odd is that the moviemakers didn’t seem to think so. Surprisingly deep into this, a romantic storyline magically appears, shifting the focus of the movie and almost doubling its length.

But it’s still worth a watch, not least for its beautiful picture. Golden light and big sky expanses subtly remind us how precious life can be.

Twenty Two

Of 200,000, twenty-two survive. Those must be some stories.

Yep. And difficult to share. Surviving systematic abuse by the Japanese army, just to have society look down on you? These women deserve better.

So the movie does what it can. Our Chinese grannies share their pain—some of them, for the first time. But even when reliving becomes too difficult, we still sit with them. See them.

About half of the movie steps out of the room. Nothing-moments. As much as these give grannies a respectful distance, they give us time to download what we’ve just learned. Watching a snowfall, we can think about how the voice of pain is sometimes muffled. Or, we can focus on the flakes’ delicate dance. Up to us.

Whether by interviews or in-betweens, this movie is as tasteful and beautiful as a movie can be. There is no action, no journey. Just life, raw and real.

One Night in Miami

Hey—have you heard the one where two champions, a rock star, and a philosopher walk into a bar?

It’s no joke. In fact, it’s deeply satisfying. Watching Muhammad Ali, Jim Brown, Sam Cooke, and Malcolm X with their guards down, it feels like we’re getting away with something.

That’s because people speak more freely with friends. It’s catch-ups one minute, deep cuts another. Sure, you’re the best at what you do, but is your day job making the world a better place?

Some of the lines truly burn. But most of the movie is a more subtle sizzle. Even the slower pace and group imagery are saying, relax and celebrate while you can, but to be black in the United States is to return to a struggle.

There’s much to take away from this, and we each might take something different. The message, maybe, is that that’s OK. Our own experiences and talents can’t be denied. So if we disagree, let’s talk about it.

Mangrove

Before Frank knows it, his new restaurant is the hottest spot in town. That’s bad news.

Why? The police don’t see a place to relax. They see enemy headquarters, usurpers of English space and women. So begins an attack on London’s Caribbean community.

The story here is many. Many conversations, many frustrations, many injustices. It’s all maddening. And yet, the movie is beautiful.

Direction with a light touch lets the story speak for itself. And with near-perfect acting, it speaks loud and clear: There is no limit to what individuals are capable of when they work with each other.

The movie is powerful—and powerfully real—from beginning to end, but the trial sequences are some of the most memorable you’ll see in movies.

Selva Trágica (Tragic Jungle)

The rules of the jungle don’t change.

Indigenous people know this, and Agnes is catching on. She’ll need the jungle’s help if she wants to escape the bad guys.

It’s a haunting story, and one that takes cues from its setting. Nature can move slowly, but it’s always moving. Best listen to it before you act.

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes was raised to be independent. At least, Mother tried. When this her best friend and teacher goes missing, we’ll see if Enola is truly ready to walk her own path.

Unexpected situations seem to be around its every bend. It’s hard to say whether those, or Enola’s problem-solving, are more fun to watch.

One thing is for sure: This movie has energy. Good music and writing chug us along, with lead actress as conductor. Sitting with her, the ride flies by.

The Old Guard

The Old Guard is something new.

In a world filled with wrongs, they fight for what’s right. And there’s nobody better.

Why? It’s a secret few know, and one that Big Pharma will stop at nothing to learn. So begins the latest fight.

It’s not every day an action movie blends espionage, fantasy, history, and philosophy into something that goes down easy. This one does. A cast more-representative-than-usual adds to the justice theme, and the writing can be downright poetic.

Father Soldier Son

Father Soldier Son. Words that define.

Brian is enlisted in the U.S. Army. He’s also a single father, worried about leaving his two boys behind. We follow them as the years pass, by interviews and intimate moments.

Life has a way of changing their perspectives: on family, health, and sacrifice. But certain core values always remain.

This is a story riddled with pain, but somehow filled with love. It was important for the Eisch family to share, and important for us to listen to.

Da 5 Bloods

Da 5 Bloods are back at it.

Well, four are. Reuniting in Vietnam to recover the remains of their friend and leader. It’s all smiles and stories. But da Bloods have another, fantastically dangerous and exciting job to do, too. And so an epic story unfolds.

This jungle of a world will require their sacrifice once again. But they’re older and wiser now. They take time to call out the black (male) trailblazers who continue to inspire their lives. In these moments, the movie turns documentary, giving us real names. Real images. This chops the flow a bit, but is informative and powerful, reflective and celebratory.

It’s a complex movie in other ways, looking at pain across years and borders. Of how people pushed up against the wall can claw at each other. Paul’s journey is expertly played, and includes one of the most enveloping soliloquies you’ll see in movies.

Joan of Arc

Everything about Joan of Arc is different.

For starters, she’s a ten-year-old in charge of the French army. Oh, and she hears voices from heaven. Get the picture?

Some do. Others don’t care for unwavering piety. When Joan acts against the King, she’s put on trial. Its back-and-forth is engrossing: Each party tries to do right by the others, but whoever loses will lose big.

And yet, this movie is as much class clown as Sunday school. It pokes fun at the pomp and formality of the military, the church—prayer itself—in ways so strange and obvious that you’re transported out of the story, wondering if the movie itself is the ridiculous thing.

Mania aside, this is a serious story of human character. Scenes pop with rich colors and varied staging.

Jojo Rabbit

Jojo is a sweet little boy who loves his mom. He’s also a Nazi.

Or at least, he thinks he is. You see, Jojo is growing up in Germany during World War II. Nazi posters decorate his room, and Hitler is his imaginary friend. What else is a kid to do?

Attend Nazi youth camp, for starters. But there, it appears that Jojo may not be cut out for the Nazi life. His early-life crisis gets much worse when he learns his mom is hiding a Jewish girl from the authorities.

As Jojo grapples with these realities, he’s determined to get to the bottom of why Elsa and her fellow Jews are evil. In these sad, funny, and touching moments, the movie shines.

The context is horrific, and the movie tries hard to balance it out (even if it may overcompensate). In any case, with its goofy humor; its saturated and magnificent colors; its catchy and upbeat music, it seeks to remind us that even the worst pain is fleeting, and that there will always be beauty in this world.

Little Women

Little Women is astounding.

Jo seems especially smart and determined. Yet so do her three sisters. That they get along is a minor miracle, and seeing their tender childhood moments together is heartwarming.

But children grow up. Life bombards with responsibilities and expectations. These moments aren’t always heartwarming, but they’re just as important for Jo and her sisters to experience. The movie weaves it all together beautifully, past informing present, and present informing past.

There is an energy to this movie that is hard to describe. Thanks to brilliant acting and editing, each scene swells with life. This makes each feel intensely important, yet at the same time leaves us chomping at the bit for the next one.

In the end, Little Women is nothing less than a reminder of life’s possibilities: the good and the bad, the serendipitous and the hard-fought. It’s a reminder of the blank canvas that we all were, and still can be.

The Irishman

One way or another, the Irishman will make you cringe.

Frank worked hard and kept his head down. No complaints, even when the job was . . . unsavory. Once powerful men recognized this, Frank’s life changed forever.

Doing dirty work came to define his life, so the movie is mostly flashback to these moments.

It’s striking how Frank’s actions had lasting implications on labor and politics in the United States. But most striking, and at the heart of this movie, is heartlessness. Frank didn’t shed a tear for his victims. But will we? After seeing such actions again and again, they can begin to feel commonplace—even boring.