Movie Reviews
‘A Family Affair’ Review: Nicole Kidman and Zac Efron in a Netflix Rom-Com That Charms Despite Missteps
Throughout A Family Affair, daughter Zara (Joey King) and mom Brooke (Nicole Kidman) argue over just what kind of a man Chris Cole (Zac Efron) is. To Zara, he’s a self-absorbed movie star boss who oscillates between unreasonable demands and threats of firing. For Brooke, he’s an attentive lover, the first man to reawaken her to the possibility of romance since the death of Zara’s father, Charlie.
Neither of them are exactly wrong — Chris, like anyone, contains multitudes. Where the Richard LaGravenese-directed A Family Affair struggles, however, is in convincing us he might be both at once. Part showbiz send-up and part earnest romantic drama, the film lurches awkwardly between its two modes without settling on a single cohesive tone. Fortunately, both halves are also blessed with the same quality that allows Chris to embody both Zara’s idea of him and Brooke’s: enough charm to make you come away smiling, even as you shake your head at its missteps.
A Family Affair
The Bottom Line Efron delights in an uneven but enjoyable romance.
Release Date: Friday, June 28 (Netflix)
Cast: Nicole Kidman, Zac Efron, Joey King, Liza Koshy, Kathy Bates, Sherry Cola
Director: Richard Lagravenese
Screenwriter: Carrie Solomon
Rated PG-13,
1 hour 51 minutes
The first Chris we meet is the obnoxious one. Onscreen, he’s the Marvel-style hero of a terrible-sounding franchise called Icarus Rush; offscreen, he’s a vain man-child pitching hissy fits at Zara. He calls her at odd hours to send her looking for protein powder, and makes her assemble gift baskets for his dogs with her own money. He runs through girlfriends like tissues, then sends her to pick up his stuff from their houses. He strings her along with the promise of an assistant producer credit, but continually insists she’s not “ready” to do much more than pick up his dry cleaning. None of these gags are especially fresh — Chris is simply every spoiled Hollywood stereotype rolled into one. But screenwriter Carrie Solomon comes at them with the wry fondness of an insider who knows just how ridiculous her industry can be.
They’re further elevated by Efron, who was last seen in the weepie The Iron Claw but reminds us here that he’s an even better comic talent than a dramatic one. His crackerjack timing turns decent jokes into laugh-out-loud hilarious ones, and his puppyish sweetness keeps Chris endearing at his worst. His (platonic) dynamic with King positively crackles with both exasperation and begrudging affection. At one point, Chris scoffs that it’s “derogatory” for her to call him a celebrity because he’s a movie star, damnit. The moment plays as a joke, but it also contains a kernel of truth. Like The Fall Guy, A Family Affair serves as a testament to the power of movie-star charisma while simultaneously poking fun at it.
All this Hollywood satire is merely set-up for the real plot of A Family Affair, which kicks in once Chris invites himself over to the home Zara shares with her mother. While waiting for her to show, he and Brooke get to talking over tequila shots. The next thing either of them know, Brooke is ripping open the very t-shirt that Chris, only the day before, had screamed at Zara for not treating more gently.
At first, the hook-up is played for laughs. Chris remains his ditzy self, wooing Brooke from lines with his own movies. (“This time I mean it,” he insists when she teasingly calls him out on it.) Zara is so startled to find her mother in bed with her employer that she goes full slapstick, choking on a grape and knocking herself unconscious. Fumbling to explain, Brooke accidentally invokes the same excuse Zara gave her for getting a forbidden eyebrow piercing as a teen: “It made sense at the time when the guy was putting it in.”
But A Family Affair takes on a more sincere and sentimental tone as the hook-up evolves into something deeper. Kidman and Efron share a decently sweet chemistry that’s nothing like the tawdry dynamic they flaunted in The Paperboy. Chris gets vulnerable about his childhood tragedies and the loneliness of fame. She confesses it’s been years since she felt desired, and allows herself the luxury of “going a little crazy” for the first time since she can remember. Although there are moments when the film goes big with expensive dinners and private studio tours and an adorably quirky third-act gesture, the relationship is generally pitched as a slow-burn love affair, not an impassioned fling.
In fact, A Family Affair barely leans into the fairy tale of dating a rich and sexy A-lister. In contrast to The Idea of You, with which it shares a superficially similar premise, the film is largely unconcerned with the specific perks or challenges of dating while famous. Brooke is unfamiliar with Chris’ career, and she does not need him to whisk her away on vacations or bring her to fancy galas; she’s done well enough already to have her own cliffside mansion and closet full of designer dresses. Though Chris can’t so much as go for a grocery run without getting swarmed, the couple do not discuss what it might mean to go public with their relationship — and they never have to, since it somehow never happens. The biggest threat to their connection is Zara’s disapproval, not the gap in age and social standing.
The fantasies that the movie does tap into are more mundane, and almost more poignant for it. One is of being a female writer whose talent attracts, rather than intimidates, an eligible suitor. Brooke recounts how fellow writer Charlie seemed to resent her success; Chris, on the other hand, goes out of his way to find her writing, and even memorizes her best bits by heart. The other is of being a mother whose child finally appreciates her sacrifices. All three lead characters could be accused of making short-sighted or self-serving choices. But it’s Brooke the movie portrays as a saint who’s earned whatever happiness she can get, and Zara who’s made to apologize for being selfish.
Parallels are drawn between Brooke lovingly tending to Zara’s every need through a difficult childhood and Zara catering to Chris’ now. I’d point out that those situations are not remotely the same, and in fact have no business being in the same conversation — just as A Family Affair‘s Hollywood material and its drama feel at times like they’ve come from two completely different films. But the lines are delivered with such heartfelt tenderness that for a moment, you might be moved in spite of yourself.
Movie Reviews
Brian Miller Movie Review: Apex
Posted:
Updated:
(WSYR-TV) — An apex is the highest level, the ultimate height and Charlize Theron says the action-thriller currently on Netflix may just be the ultimate filmmaking experience in her distinguished career. She plays a woman seeking solitude, only to end up in a cat-and-mouse game opposite a hunter played by Taron Edgerton. Our ‘Movie Guy’ Brian Miller is here with his take on “Apex.”
Movie Reviews
Movie Review – Power Ballad (2026)
Power Ballad, 2026.
Directed by John Carney.
Starring Paul Rudd, Nick Jonas, Peter McDonald, Marcella Plunkett, Rory Keenan, Keith McErlean, Paul Reid, Beth Fallon, Havana Rose Liu, Jack Reynor, Naoimh Whelton, Mae Higgins, Ian Dillon, Kelly Thornton, Ebimie Anthony, Ruby Conway Dunne, Dean Panter, Juliette Crosbie, Robert Mitchell, Martha Breen, Dylan Kelly, Kellie El Mayss, and Alexa Scout Fagen.
SYNOPSIS:
Rick, a washed-up wedding singer, and Danny, a fading boy band star, bond over music and a late-night jam session. When Danny turns Rick’s song into a hit, Rick sets out to reclaim the recognition he believes he deserves.
Co-writer/director John Carney (here crafting the screenplay alongside supporting actor Peter McDonald) has an established track record of contemporary musicals with catchy original tunes that have long been flying under the radar for Academy Award consideration, but it should also be pointed out that the success of his films also comes from placing a sharp and acutely insightful emphasis on the creative process and the characters themselves. That is especially true for his latest work, Power Ballad, which features Paul Rudd as an Ireland-based wedding singer cover band frontman, Rick Power, perhaps like many of us coming into the film, still living in another time, or maligning the fact that rock and roll, for the most part, is dying off to other genres, particularly bubblegum mainstream-friendly pop.
As such, Rick’s next gig takes him and the band to Los Angeles for the wedding of a relative of once-popular musician Danny Wilson (played by Nick Jonas, which gives viewers some idea of the music the character creates), failing to keep up with his fellow boy band mates, who have all apparently gone on to bigger and brighter things in the wake of breaking up and going their separate ways. In the hours after the ceremony, they drunkenly get together to kick around ideas, experiment with collaborating on music, and mostly conclude that, while they may come from different genres with wildly different perspectives on art and on each other, there is real talent. In the moment, it appears that mutual respect has been agreed upon.
That only lasts for about 6 months, when Rick Power, amusingly, finds out while walking around a mall that Danny has taken the song he wrote, ” I Can’t Write a Song Without You”, slapped a bridge on it, and become a worldwide sensation without even asking if he would like to be cut into a fraction of the profits. More frustrating and possibly even defeating regarding the happiness of his family is that neither Rick’s wife (Marcella Plunkett) nor his teenage daughter (Beth Fallon) expresses any belief that he could be capable of writing those lyrics. On some level, it’s also likely humiliating that said daughter, who regularly playfully mocks his songwriting ideas, sings along to the hit song.
And since this is a John Carney film, the song is undoubtedly going to stick with viewers not only for its catchiness and rhythms, but also for what the lyrics mean for each character and art bearing a more personal meaning to the actual creator, who oftentimes might be the only one who knows the true emotional core and intent behind it. For Danny, it seems like a love song, but throughout, there is a sense that it might have meant something else to Rick when they were originally writing it together. Meanwhile, whenever Danny shows a trace of an awakening consciousness regarding his lack of moral ethics, his manager (played by John Carney regular Jack Reynor) is there to insist he bury those feelings, that it would be a bad look if word got out he mostly stole the song from a wedding singer of all people.
Nevertheless, with The Wedding Singer‘s DNA in its humor, the ensuing spiral eventually leads Rick Power (with Paul Rudd channeling some of that effortless charm into righteous anger) and his loyal bandmate, Sandy (Peter McDonald), to Los Angeles to confront Danny in person. Naturally, there are plenty of laughs along the way, all while the storytelling shifts into emotional territory, where it is no longer just about being cheated out of fame and fortune but about pursuing the truth and having that ambition and talent validated. For as much as Danny’s reasonings and justifications will make one want to punch him in the face, there is also some merit to his argument that no matter how good a piece of art is, it’s also about how it is packaged and who is putting it out there in the world.
This might also sound like a film with predictable plotting, which is true, but only to an extent. Some characters are confoundingly shoved aside, others are entirely one-dimensional, and there are a number of contrivances here to set the conflict in motion, not to mention the occasional scene that is perhaps a bit too much (a car accident that is almost immediately brushed off and comes to feel unnecessary in hindsight, for example), but there are genuinely subversive qualities in how this story unfolds, where it goes, and where it ultimately ends up.
That is also what lends Power Ballad much of its power: it’s not about lingering and hammering home those emotional beats and reveals, but about tucking them away into something smaller and more minimalist that turns out to be much more moving and sincere.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist
Movie Reviews
Film Review: “The Devil Wears Prada 2”
Hello, dear reader! Do you like what you read here at Omnivorous? Do you like reading fun but insightful takes on all things pop culture? Do you like supporting indie writers? If so, then please consider becoming a subscriber and get the newsletter delivered straight to your inbox. There are a number of paid options, but you can also sign up for free! Every little bit helps. Thanks for reading and now, on with the show!
Warning: Full spoilers for the film follow.
I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m as sick of sequels as many other people. Every so often, however, one comes along that manages to not only match its predecessor’s energy but also manages to equal it, that strides across the screen with such panache and style that you find yourself absolutely captivated.
The Devil Wears Prada 2 is one such film.
Now, I’ll admit that I was more than a little skeptical when I found out there was going to be a sequel to a film that was released back in the halcyon days when one-and-done was more the norm than the exception. However, given the fact that the film managed to pull together the same gang–including director David Frankel–I figured it was at least giving it a shot. I’m certainly glad I did. The film made me laugh more than I ever expected and, more than that, it held me spellbound, drawing me back into this world of high fashion and high ideals and delicious bitchery. It was everything I wanted, and perhaps a little bit more.
When the story opens, our beloved Andy has been working as a successful journalist and is poised to receive a prestigious award; unfortunately, her victory is spoiled by the announcement that she, along with her colleagues, have been laid off. All is not lost, however, and she’s soon brought on to help head up the features department at Runway, where she once again finds herself desperately seeking approval from Miranda Priestly, who resents having this young woman thrust upon her. As the film proves, however, the two women have far more in common than either of them might think, and they have to work together to save Runway and perhaps journalism itself.
To say that Meryl Streep devours this role would be a bit of an understatement. Obviously Streep has had many, many, many great roles during her long and storied career, but for my money Miranda Priestly will always be my favorite. To begin with, there’s the fact that she’s fucking gorgeous, with her shock of white hair, her immaculate outfits, and her way of commanding every eye in a room. However, it’s not just her looks; Miranda has depth and genuine emotional investments, even though these might not always be obvious to the people in her orbit. She might be demanding and imperious and at times downright callous, but the thing is that she genuinely believes in what she preaches. She believes in human beauty and achievement, and she’s willing to go to great lengths to celebrate those things, and if you can’t keep up with her, or if you’re not as invested in them as she is, then that’s a you problem.
For her part, Hathaway is reliably bubbly and effervescent as Andy, a woman who has gone from being a wide-eyed neophyte to a highly-respected and passionate journalist. The brilliance of Hathaway’s performance lies in her ability to capture so many different elements of Andy’s character. She is, at once, still the same wide-eyed and somewhat naive woman she was when she was in her 20s and also someone who believes fiercely and passionately in journalism and what it means to American society and culture writ large. Maybe it’s just the millennial in me, but I adore both Hathaway and this character. They both remind us that millennials, for all that the general culture and our elders (and our juniors!) like to mock us, really do believe in things and, just as importantly, we believe they’re worth fighting for.
The mark of a truly great film–and, for that matter, sequel–is its ability to imbue even its supporting characters with their own arcs and their own emotional stakes. In that respect, too, The Devil Wears Prada 2 succeeds, in that it gives both Tucci’s Nigel and Blunt’s Emily their own journeys. For Nigel, this revolves around his desire to be more than just Miranda’s second-in-command. One can easily see why a man of his obvious taste and skill would want something more, and Tucci imbues him with just enough vulnerability that you can see his desire flicker of his eyes. He also has his fair share of softer moments, and I love the chemistry between Hathaway and Tucci.
In some ways, Emily’s story has been even more tragic than Nigel’s, if no less a result of Miranda, who essentially pushed her out of Runway because of her belief that she lacked the creative vision to really flourish there. Blunt, of course, is absolutely in her element, and though she’s as sharp-tongued as ever, there’s still enough human warmth behind her crisp delivery to allow us to see her as more than just a villain. She is, instead, someone with her own struggles and failures and motivations and, to be quite honest, she’s a delight.
Indeed, if anyone can be said to be the villain of this film, it would have to be the tech overlords–so perfectly embodied by Justin Theroux and B.J. Novak–who play their respective billionaires with just the right amount of preening idiocy and suave corporate ruthlessness. They care about nothing and no one but themselves and making sure they get as much money as they can before they destroy the very institutions they control. And, though some have sneered at the film’s commentary about the state of journalism and the ongoing corporate takeover and hollowing out of our cultural life and institutions, I actually think that’s precisely what gives the film its texture, its depth, and its bite. Because Miranda and Andy–and Nigel, and even Emily, in her own twisted way–care about beauty and fashion and human achievement, and because they’re performed with such depth and emotional authenticity by the film’s stars, we come to care about these things, too.
Even if every other aspect of this film had failed, I still would’ve enjoyed and praised the extent to which it highlights the importance of friendship and bonds and respect between and among women. Though Miranda is at first as dismissive of Andy as she was 20 years ago–in large part, one suspects, because Andy has been foisted on her by her corporate master–she gradually gains a grudging respect One of the most poignant scenes, however, belongs to Emily and Andy, who share one last scene together, forging a friendship they should have had years before but which they both clearly need. Sometimes, when you get down to it, all you really need to thrive is a good friend and a basket of fries.
Look, if this is what millennial nostalgia is going to look and feel like when it comes to the movies, we could do a whole lot worse than The Devil Wears Prada 2. This is a sequel that actually has some things to say but that doesn’t lose sight of the fact that its primary purpose is to entertain and delight us. Fortunately for all of us, it manages to do both. What a remarkable gift!
-
Wisconsin5 minutes agoPackers award $100K in grants to help launch girls flag football teams in Wisconsin high schools
-
West Virginia11 minutes ago
Verizon outage reported in West Virginia
-
Wyoming17 minutes agoStatewide candidates split on Wyoming GOP’s plans to defy state law and make endorsements
-
Crypto23 minutes agoTriple Win for Bitcoin ETFs With $532M Inflow While Ethereum Adds $61M
-
Finance29 minutes ago
Over 60? These 4 financial moves might offer your best ‘return’ on investment
-
Fitness35 minutes agoAre Upright Rows Bad for Shoulders? How to Build Bigger Delts Without Injury – Muscle & Fitness
-
Movie Reviews47 minutes agoBrian Miller Movie Review: Apex
-
World59 minutes agoCitigroup to announce new profit targets at investor day, CEO says