The Weekly Gravy #115

The Fabelmans (2022) – ****

Steven Spielberg’s love of film may have been ignited by seeing The Greatest Show on Earth as a boy, but the majority of his films are far better than that mediocrity; likewise, his alter ego, young Sammy Fabelman, is blown away by the film and begins his own artistic journey shortly after, but his story, and that of his family, are far more compelling than that circus epic ever manages to be. Greatest Show somehow won the Oscar for Best Picture, and as of this writing, I think The Fabelmans is as likely a contender as any to win the Oscar this coming March – but if it does, it will be far worthier.

Haunted by the climactic train crash in Greatest Show, young Sammy (Mateo Zoryon Francis-DeFord) uses his new toy trains and a toy Noah’s Ark to recreate it. To prevent damaging the toys, his mother Mitzi (Michelle Williams) helps him film the “crash,” and the result is his first film. Mitzi, an accomplished pianist whose professional career was ended by marriage and motherhood (Sammy has two little sisters and will later have a third), is supportive of Sammy’s artistic ambitions and encourages them wholeheartedly.

His father, Burt (Paul Dano), an electronic engineer and pioneering computer programmer, supports Sammy’s films as well -as a hobby – but hopes one day Sammy will focus his energies on something “real.” Likewise, he can never fully meet Mitzi’s emotionally vulnerable, artistically expressive nature on equal ground, and this is but one part of the gulf which will grow between them, leading to their divorce.

A bigger part is Mitzi’s relationship with Burt’s colleague Bennie (Seth Rogen). Grandmother Haddash (Jeannie Berlin) raises an eyebrow at their chumminess over the dinner table, and we raise an eyebrow when she demands Burt help Bennie find a position with his new employers in Phoenix (where they move from New Jersey), but it’s not until years later that Sammy (now played by Gabriel LaBelle) is editing together footage of a family camping trip that he realizes their feelings for each other, though it’ll take some time and another move (to northern California) before the dam breaks.

In California, Sammy finds himself the only Jew and the target of bullying from star athlete Logan (Sam Rechner) and his toady Chad (Oakes Fegler). He does find first love with the devoutly Christian Monica (Chloe East) and makes a film of a senior trip to the beach which is greeted (mostly) with acclaim when he screens it at prom. But it’s not until he’s moved to L.A. with the now-divorced Burt and gets his first job offer in the industry (a trainee position on the set of Hogan’s Heroes) that he’s truly able to start following his dreams.

He also gets to meet his idol, the elderly John Ford (David Lynch), who gives him a quick and dirty lesson on where to put the horizon in the frame, then says “Good luck to you. Now get the fuck out of my office.” Sammy is speechless with awe and walks across the studio lot as the camera shifts to take Ford’s advice.

In part, The Fabelmans works for me because it touches on a lot of my own experience. My cinematic ambitions as a kid were far greater than my achievements, but damned if I didn’t want to make movies with my friends and show them to my awestruck peers. Like Sammy, I felt a particular kinship to my mother, who was an accomplished news writer, but had ambitions to write fiction that never got as far as she hoped; she shared her imagination with me and encouraged my own. I also crashed my toy trains and was the only Jew in my class, though I was never bullied like Sammy is (but I was never the new kid in town).

There are plenty of differences from my life, of course – my father suggested the Fabelmans’ marriage was more like that of his own parents – but what’s gratifying is that Spielberg made a film that was personal without being arcane and relatable without being watered down. And while some might argue it’s self-indulgent or self-aggrandizing, I think it strikes a good balance of showing Sammy’s talent and determination without putting him on a pedestal.

The script by Spielberg and Tony Kushner (a rare writing credit for Spielberg himself) has its faults, but for the most part traces the trajectory of the Fabelmans’ lives smoothly, with empathy and not a little humor, from the crackling dinner-table conversations to the covert confessions to the combative confrontations. And whatever my concerns about his latter-day output, Spielberg’s direction evokes just the right amounts of nostalgia, sentiment, and wonder, balanced by a mature awareness of what was really going on in his parents’ lives and how growing up really was – a mixture of joy and suffering, profoundly felt.

The acting is very fine all around, with LaBelle a subdued but likeable young lead, Williams an affecting portrait of barely restrained passion, Dano a loving but fundamentally buttoned-down father, Rogen an earnestly charming “uncle” (a reversal of Take This Waltz, where Williams was cheating on him), and a lovely small part for Judd Hirsch as the long-lost uncle who recognizes the driven artist in Sammy and knows the price he may have to pay for it. And of course, Lynch, as much an American icon in his way as Spielberg, playing yet another icon.

Janusz Kaminski’s cinematography, along with Michael Kahn and Sarah Broshar’s editing, help to create any number of fine sequences, but for me nothing tops the sequence where Sammy is piecing together the camping-trip footage, Mitzi is playing the piano, and Burt is doing paperwork; without needing a word of dialogue, we and Sammy slowly realize the painful truth about his family, and both Mitzi’s enigmatic expression and Burt’s occupied silence take on new shades. There’s also fine period detail and a John Williams score – a nice one. All as it should be.

Score: 89

Glass Onion (2022) – ***½

When I saw Knives Out in 2019, I wanted to like it as much as everyone else seemed to, but it fell a bit short for me; I thought it was a good film, but I found the mystery itself somewhat underwhelming and felt that most of the big-name cast had too little to actually do. I did, however, quite enjoy Daniel Craig’s performance as the southern-fried detective Benoit Blanc, and for his sake I was game to give this sequel a look while it was still in theaters. (It was given a one-week big-screen run; it’ll start streaming on Netflix right before Christmas.) And, as I suspected, I liked this more than the first film – I’m still not so in love with the franchise that I need more of them, but a third film is forthcoming, and I’ll probably see that as well.

Set in May 2020, during the dark days of the lockdown, Glass Onion begins with several people receiving puzzle-box invitations from their friend, tech billionaire Miles Bron (Edward Norton), to visit his private Greek island for a murder-mystery weekend party. The guests are:

• Claire Debella (Kathryn Hahn), the current governor of Connecticut;
• Lionel Toussaint (Leslie Odom Jr.), Miles’ chief scientist;
• Birdie Jay (Kate Hudson), a model/sweatpants mogul;
• Duke Cody (Dave Bautista), an MRA Twitch streamer;
• and Cassandra “Andi” Brand (Janelle Monáe), Miles’ now ex-business partner.

An invitation also finds its way to Blanc, who’s struggling in the absence of a case to stimulate his energies. (When we first see him, he’s in the bathtub, on a Zoom call with Stephen Sondheim, Angela Lansbury, Natasha Lyonne, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.)

This motley crew assembles in Greece, and are ferried to Miles’ home, a mansion topped with a huge dome called the Glass Onion, named for the bar where they first became friends (and for the Beatles song which plays over the end credits). Miles pulls Blanc aside and reveals that he didn’t actually invite him, but takes his presence in stride; how fun, after all, to have the greatest detective in the world at your staged murder-mystery?

Blanc expresses his reservations, and takes note of the tensions among the group, most notably that surrounding Andi, whose personal and professional relationship to Miles ended very acrimoniously, and who calls out the others for clinging to his “golden titties.” There’s also the matter of Birdie’s social-media gaffes, which create endless headaches for her secretary Peg (Jessica Henwick), and Miles’ carrying-on with Duke’s girlfriend Whiskey (Madelyn Cline).

At dinner, Miles reveals the mystery they’re to solve: his murder. While he won’t actually die or even play dead, the guests will have to piece together the clues carefully laid about the island to figure not only whodunnit, but why. Blanc solves it without rising from his seat, much to Miles’ annoyance. It’s a little after this, after another denunciation from Andi, that the actual murder occurs – and it’ll take Blanc a bit longer to untangle this one.

Where the first Knives Out used the plight of Ana de Armas’ Marta to comment on the experience of immigrants in present-day America, Glass Onion uses the character of Miles to riff on Steve Jobs, Elon Musk, and other tech tycoons whose real skill lies in marketing (especially of themselves), making the right friends, and throwing money at the right people – whose achievements they receive most of the credit for. As someone who’s rather weary of Musk and those who insist he’s a visionary, it’s nice to see Miles take a few shots to his ego in the course of the story.

Just as Marta was the emotional protagonist of the first film, so Andi is here, and as before, Blanc’s sympathy for her, while not clouding his judgment, helps endear him to us – as if we weren’t already charmed by his accent (broad but fitting), his keen mind, and unassuming good nature (even if that itself is a bit of a performance). Craig continues to relish the role, and Monáe matches him, giving a performance I can’t fully analyze, thanks to the nature of the film, but playing righteous anger, acid wit, and a host of other notes with a deft touch. I’m only disappointed she didn’t provide an original song to complement Nathan Johnson’s witty score.

But where I was a bit disappointed by the supporting cast in the first film (not the performances but how much most of them had to do), there’s a much stronger ensemble here, with Norton perfectly cast as the cocksure Miles, so convinced of his own wisdom and so blind to his limitations. There’s also Hudson, hilarious as the fun-loving fashionista with a habit of putting her foot in her mouth; Hahn, quite fun as the high-strung politician who knows what a tightrope she’s walking; Odom, very solid as the voice of reason who’s used to being ignored; and Bautista, also fun as the pistol-waving blowhard (who reverts to adolescence in the presence of his mother).

It’s a classy enterprise all around, with first-rate production design (Miles’ home is wonderfully absurd), haute couture costumes, a well-crafted script with funny dialogue (“It’s so dumb it’s brilliant!” “No! It’s just dumb!”) and genuinely surprising twists, and pleasant locations (much of it was shot on location in Greece). It is, at 139 minutes, probably a shade overlong, and the finale isn’t quite as cathartic as one might have hoped (a little more active comeuppance was in order, I think), but overall, it’s a treat for mystery buffs and a Christmas present to fans of the first film.

By the way, for those who need something to tide them over until this hits streaming, I recommend 1973’s The Last of Sheila (probably-not-coincidentally co-written by Sondheim). It was a clear influence on this film and is very enjoyable in its own right.

Score: 83

Robot Jox (1989) – **

It’s been a long week at work. I thought about trying to squeeze in one last new film, but that would’ve required more conscious thought than I was interested in providing. I wanted something silly, something fun, something I could possibly make fun of, or possibly enjoy for its sheer absurdity, or maybe a bit of both. I wanted Robot Jox, and I got it, all right.

To be sure, as my rating would suggest, it could’ve been a lot worse. There are genuine virtues here, and the shortcomings aren’t profound enough to negate them. It’s not a good movie by any means – it may have beaten Pacific Rim to the punch by over 20 years, but that film is by far the better and more satisfying experience – but viewed with a sympathetic eye, it has its rewards.

50 years after a devastating nuclear war, the world’s powers settle conflicts by single combat between fighters in mech suits. The Confederation (roughly equivalent to the Soviet Union) has Alexander (Paul Koslo), a blood-thirsty fighter who kills an opponent after he yields and laughs evilly as he does it. The Market (roughly equivalent to the United States) has Achilles (Gary Graham), an honorable fighter who has nearly completed his contractually obligated ten fights. A confrontation with Alexander, to determine ownership of Alaska, will be his tenth. (Take that, William Seward.)

But during the match, before an audience of spectators, Alexander fires a weapon that threatens the audience and Achilles blocks it – only to fall on top of the bleachers, killing over 300 spectators in the process. The match is declared a draw, but Achilles, shaken by the incident, announces his retirement.

The Market’s scientists have been working on “tubies,” genetically engineered fighters trained from birth, and the best among them, Athena (Anne-Marie Johnson) is chosen to face Alexander in the rematch. Achilles, who has a contentious but grudgingly respectful relationship with Athena, decides to un-retire, much to Alexander’s delight, but Athena drugs him the morning of the rematch and tries to take his place. At first, she holds her own, but when Alexander gets the upper hand, Achilles, who’s come to, must step in and put an end to their feud.

The final confrontation between them, and the final note of détente, push the film into the realm of well-intentioned ludicrousness that marked a lot of Cold War cinema; it may on some level be more admirable for Achilles and Alexander to come to an accord, rather than end with one or both of them dead, but it rings a bit hollow given what an out-and-out villain Alexander has been this whole time. A better film could’ve suggested the spiritual corrosion which led him to this point, but that wasn’t the film we got.

It’s surprising that director Stuart Gordon and screenwriter Joe Haldeman (a renowned science-fiction author) clashed over the dramatic weight of the film; as a filmmaker, Gordon may have been best known for his cheeky genre work (like Re-Animator), but he was also a noted theater director, so I’d have thought he would have appreciated Haldeman’s efforts to write a thoughtful, mature film.

There are traces of this in the film as we have it: the conflict between tubies and natural-born humans, the suggestions of illiteracy and depopulation in this future world, the dangers of being a front-row spectator to the fights (they have to sign releases), Achilles’ emotional exhaustion, Doc Matsumoto’s (Danny Kamekona) final speech, and the very idea of war being foregone in favor of single combat. But most of these ideas are severely underdeveloped, not helped by the overly brisk 85-minute running time.

The hammy acting doesn’t help. Koslo devours the scenery at every turn, with a hilariously fake Russian accent to match, but Graham has his moments, especially when he tries to play hungover; one would guess he’d never been drunk in his life. Hilary Mason, as the tubies’ creator, Prof. Laplace, has some ridiculous moments during the climax; her concern for Athena is some of the least convincing dramatic acting I’ve ever seen. By comparison, Michael Alldredge as the Stetson-wearing Tex Conway, who’d be the ham-in-chief in a normal film, seems almost outmatched!

Johnson is particularly ill-served by the material; Athena is initially made out to be a capable if naive combatant who challenges Tex’s sexist underestimations, but during the climax, once Alexander gets the upper hand, she becomes a helpless damsel in distress whom Achilles has to rescue. Unfortunate.

On the other hand, David W. Allen’s special effects, especially the mech suits, are really pretty good, especially given the tight budget; miniatures and forced perspective are used to excellent effect, and if some of the process shots look pretty bad, that can be forgiven – there are far better and more expensive films which look little better. And the production design, while a bit cheesy at times (Achilles’ car looks very flimsy), is fairly accomplished and has a considerable amount of 80’s-futurist charm.

And Frédéric Talgorn’s score has some of the sweep and martial impact the film itself lacks; it may take a few cues from John Williams’ work (especially in the strings and winds), but the use of drums in particular gives the music a forcefulness that makes up, at least a little, for how silly what we’re actually seeing is. It’s not enough to elevate the film to the level of unalloyed entertainment, but it helps make it a more pleasurable guilty pleasure.

Score: 43