Movie Reviews
Film Review: Bleeding Love – SLUG Magazine
Film Reviews
Bleeding Love
Director: Emma Westenberg
Sobini Films and Killer Films
In Theaters and Video On Demand: 02.16
Whether it’s Henry and Jane Fonda teaming up for On Golden Pond in 1981 or Adam Sandler starring with his daughter Sunny in You Are So Not Invited To My Bat Mitzvah in 2023, movie stars sharing the screen with their offspring is a time-honored tradition. Ewan McGregor and his daughter Clara gave it a try in Bleeding Love, a road trip movie where the intended destination is a viable career for Clara.
The McGregors play a middle-aged Father” and his estranged 20-year old Daughter–they are never identified by name in the film, and only listed by these designations in the credits—in a truck headed toward Sante Fe. They haven’t really been a part of each other’s lives for more than a decade, though they do have one thing in common: addiction. After Daughter nearly dies from a drug overdose, this now-sober absentee Father is determined to atone for his mistakes, reconnect with her and get her the help that she needs. There is little to do in the car but talk, which means plenty of arguing, reminiscing and a lot of awkward silence. The occasional stop gives them a chance to meet colorful characters ranging from a gun-toting tow truck driver (Kim Zimmer, Body Heat) and her amateur rapper son (Jake Weary, It Follows, Zombeavers), to a sex worker (Vera Bulder, About That Life) who looks for clients in a Walgreens parking and dreams of Broadway stardom. As the miles go by, the walls between Father and Daughter start to come down, and despite the time that has passed and the mistakes they’ve made, there might be a chance at reconnection.
Bleeding Love is journey toward reconciliation, and it’s an uneven ride that’s barely smooth and steady enough to get us there, when it’s content to be a two-person story. The younger McGregor conceived the story along with Bulder, who co-produced the film, and it plays very much like the two struggling actresses came up with the kernel of an idea for a film that would give them each a showcase and used a very strong connection to get it made. The premise itself isn’t bad, and Westenberg’s direction is on course. It’s the screenplay by Ruby Caster (Say Hi After You Die) that doesn’t know where it’s headed and it never stops to ask for directions. The side vignettes all play like they were hastily conceived to work in a role for a friend and while Bulder’s appearance is far and away the best among them, even her character falls apart as she tries too hard to create a grand exit. The conceit of refusing to give the lead characters names starts to feel pretentious when we notice that Father is actively avoiding referring to his new family by names; when we see his phone ring with a call from his wife and the name comes up as “My Love,” it’s hard not to groan.
The elder McGregor brings a hefty sense of heart and gravity along with his star power. The choice to let him speak with own brogue rather than burden the performance with another unconvincing attempt at an American accent is one of the best choices made in the film. The younger McGregor may not prove herself to be a superstar in the making, but her performance is solid enough and the natural chemistry between Father and Daughter gives us enough genuine moments to make the film enjoyable. When the iciness between them melts long enough for a spontaneous singalong to the Leona Lewis song Bleeding Love, the magical moment is interrupted by a phone call from Father’s new wife and young son. As Father fawns over the boy, the awkwardness and resentment comes rushing back, beautifully captured in Clara’s facial expressions. Just a few more moments of that caliber would have resulted in a rave review from me.
On the whole, Bleeding Love is middle of the road movie that is better suited to a $6.99 rental at home than a trip to the theater. It’s a modest roadside attraction on the way to peak movie season. Stop if you must. Otherwise, all we can do is sit and wait patiently. Either way, the words “Are we there yet?” are likely to be uttered more than once. –Patrick Gibbs
Read more from Film Writer Patrick Gibbs:
Sundance Film Review: Rob Peace
Film Review: The Teacher’s Lounge
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: Paul Feig’s ‘The Housemaid’ is a twisty horror-thriller with nudity and empowerment – Sentinel Colorado
Santa left us a present this holiday season and it is exactly what we didn’t know we needed: A twisty, psychological horror-thriller with nudity that’s all wrapped up in an empowerment message.
“The Housemaid” is Paul Feig’s delicious, satirical look at the secret depravity of the ultra-rich, but it’s so well constructed that’s it’s not clear who’s naughty or nice. Halfway through, the movie zigs and everything you expected zags.
It’s almost impossible to thread the line between self-winking campy — “That’s a lot of bacon. Are you trying to kill us?” — and carving someone’s stomach with a broken piece of fine china, yet Feig and screenwriter Rebecca Sonnenshine do.
Sydney Sweeney stars as a down-on-her luck Millie Calloway, a gal with a troubled past living out of her car who answers an ad for a live-in housekeeper in a tony suburb of New York City. Her resume is fraudulent, as are her references.
Somehow, the madam of the mansion, Nina Winchester played with frosty excellence by Amanda Seyfried in pearls and creamy knits, takes a shine to this young soul. “I have a really good feeling about this, Millie,” she says in that perky, slightly crazed clipped way that Seyfried always slays with. “This is going to be fun, Millie.”
Maybe not for Millie, but definitely for us. The young housekeeper gets her own room in the attic — weird that it closes with a deadbolt from the outside, but no matter — and we’re off. Mille gets a smartphone with the family’s credit card preloaded and a key for that deadbolt. “What kind of monsters are we?” asks Nina. Indeed.
The next day, the house is a mess when the housekeeper comes down and Seyfried is in a wide-eyed, crashing-plates, full-on psychotic rage. The sweet, supportive woman we met the day before is gone. But her hunky husband (Brandon Sklenar) is helpful and apologetic. And smoldering. Uh-oh. Did we mention he’s hunky?
If at first we understand that the housekeeper is being a little manipulative — lying to get the job, for instance, or wearing glasses to seem more serious — we soon realize that all kinds of gaslighting games are being played behind these gates, and they’re much more impactful.
Based on Freida McFadden’s novel, “The Housemaid” rides waves of manipulation and then turns the tables on what we think we’ve just seen, looking at male-female power structures and how privilege can trap people without it.
The film is as good looking as the actors, with nifty touches like having the main house spare, well-lit and bright, while the husband’s private screening room in the basement is done in a hellish red. There are little jokes throughout, like the husband and the housemaid bonding over old episodes of “Family Feud,” with the name saying it all.
Feig and his team also have fun with horror movie conventions, like having a silent, foreboding groundskeeper, adding a creepy dollhouse and placing lightning and thunder during a pivotal scene. They surround the mansion with fussy, aristocratic PTA moms who have tea parties and say things like “You know what yoga means to me.”
Feig’s fascinating combination of gore, torture and hot sex ends happily, capped off with Taylor Swift’s perfectly conjured “I Did Something Bad” playing over the end credits. Not at all: This naughty movie is definitely on the nice list.
“The Housemaid,” a Lionsgate release that’s in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for strong bloody violence, gore, language, sexuality/nudity and drug use. Running time: 131 minutes. Three and a half stars out of four.
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Movie Reviews
‘The Spongebob Movie: Search for Squarepants’ Review: Adventure Romp Soaks up a Good Time for SpongeBob Fans of All Ages
I’m convinced that each SpongeBob movie released on the big screen serves as a testament to the current state of the series. The 2004 film was a send-off for the early series run. Sponge Out of Water symbolized the Paul Tibbitt era, and Sponge on the Run served as a major transitional period between soft reboot and spin-off setup. The team responsible for Search for SquarePants, which consists of current showrunners Marc Ceccarelli and Vince Waller, as well as the seasoned Kaz, is showcasing their comedic and absurdist abilities. The sole purpose of the film is to elicit laughter with its distinctively silly and irreverent, whimsical humor. More so than its predecessor, it creates a mindless romp. Granted, there are far too many butt-related jokes, to a weird degree.
Truthfully, I am apprehensive about the insistence of each SpongeBob movie being CG-animated. However, Drymon, who directed the final Hotel Transylvania film, Transformania, brings the series’ quirky, outrageous 2D-influenced poses and expressive style into a 3D space. Its CG execution, done by Texas-based Reel FX (Book of Life, Rumble, Scoob), is far superior to Mikros Animation’s Sponge on the Run, which, despite its polish, has experimental frame rate issues with the comic timing and is influenced by The Spider-Verse. FX encapsulates the same fast, frenetic pace in its absurdist humor, which enables a significant number of the jokes to be effective and feel like classic SpongeBob.
With lovely touches like gorgeous 2D artwork in flashback scenes and mosaic backgrounds during multiple action shots, Drymon and co expand the cinematic scope, enhancing its theatrical space. Taking on a darker, if not more obscene, tone in the main underworld setting, the film’s purple- and green-infused visual palette adds a unique shine that sets it apart from other Sponge-features. Its strong visual aesthetic preserves the SpongeBob identity while capturing the spirit of swashbuckling and satisfying a Pirates of the Caribbean void in the heart.
The film’s slapstick energy is evident throughout, as it’s purposefully played as a romp. The animators’ hilarious antics, which make the most of each set piece to a comical degree, feel like the ideal old-fashioned love letter to the new adults who grew up with SpongeBob and are now introducing it to their kids. This is a perfect bridge. There’s a “Twelfth Street Rag” needle drop in a standout montage sequence that will have older viewers astral projecting with joy.
Search for SquarePants retreads water but with a charming swashbuckling freshness.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: ‘The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants’ – Catholic Review
NEW YORK (OSV News) – Cartoon characters can devolve into dullards over time. But some are more enduringly appealing than others, as the adventure “The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants” (Paramount) proves.
Yellow, absorbent and porous on the outside, unflaggingly upbeat SpongeBob (voice of Tom Kenny) is childlike and anxious to please within. He also displays the kind of eagerness for grown-up experiences that is often found in real-life youngsters but that gets him into trouble in this fourth big-screen outing for his character.
Initially, his yearning for maturity takes a relatively harmless form. Having learned that he is now exactly 36 clams tall, the requisite height to ride the immense roller coaster at Captain Booty Beard’s Fun Park, he determines to do so.
Predictably, perhaps, he finds the ride too scary for him. This prompts Mr. Krabs (voice of Clancy Brown), the owner of the Krusty Krab — the fast-food restaurant where SpongeBob works as a cook — to inform his chef that he is still an immature bubble-blowing boy who needs to be tested as a swashbuckling adventurer.
The opportunity for such a trial soon arises with the appearance of the ghostly green Flying Dutchman (voice of Mark Hamill), a pirate whose elaborately spooky lair, the Underworld, is adjacent to SpongeBob’s friendly neighborhood, Bikini Bottom. Subject to a curse, the Dutchman longs to lift it and return to human status.
To do so, he needs to find someone both innocent and gullible to whom he can transfer the spell. SpongeBob, of course, fits the bill.
So the buccaneer lures SpongeBob, accompanied by his naive starfish pal Patrick (voice of Bill Fagerbakke), into a series of challenges designed to prove that the lad has what it takes. Mr. Krabs, the restaurateur’s ill-tempered other employee, Squidward (voice of Rodger Bumpass), and SpongeBob’s pet snail, Gary, all follow in pursuit.
Along the way, SpongeBob and Patrick’s ingenuity and love of carefree play usually succeed in thwarting the Dutchman’s plans.
As with most episodes of the TV series, which premiered on Nickelodeon in 1999, there are sight gags intended either for adults or savvy older children. This time out, though, director Derek Drymon and screenwriters Pam Brady and Matt Lieberman produce mostly misfires.
These include an elaborate gag about Davy Jones’ legendary locker — which, after much buildup, turns out to be an ordinary gym locker. Additionally, in moments of high stress, SpongeBob expels what he calls “my lucky brick.” As euphemistic poop gags go, it’s more peculiar than naughty.
True to form, SpongeBob emerges from his latest escapades smarter, wiser, pleased with his newly acquired skills and with increased loyalty to his friends. So, although the script’s humor may often fall short, the franchise’s beguiling charm remains.
The film contains characters in cartoonish peril and occasional scatological humor. The OSV News classification is A-I – general patronage. The Motion Picture Association rating is PG — parental guidance suggested. Some material may not be suitable for children.
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