Entertainment
'Sunny,' led by a powerful Rashida Jones, is best when focused on personal relationships
In “Sunny,” premiering Wednesday on Apple TV+, Rashida Jones plays Suzie Sakamoto, an American living in a near-future Kyoto who has apparently lost her Japanese husband and 8-year-old son in the crash of a commercial airliner — although the possibility that things might be otherwise is raised early in the season. As in most mysteries, much is not as it seems.
Grieving and refusing to publicly grieve, Suzie finds herself the unwilling recipient of Sunny (Joanna Sotomura) an Apple-white domestic robot whose adorable, Sanrio-style expressions display on a video screen. This is, she’s told, supposed to make her feel less lonely. (“I’m a hugger,” says Sunny, much to Suzie’s horror. “Bring it in.”) She has no actual friends.
It’s at this point that Suzie learns that Masa (Hidetoshi Nishijima, “Drive My Car”), her husband, was not a refrigerator engineer, as she believed across their decade-long relationship, but was an important person in cutting-edge robotics; he had personally programmed Sunny for Suzie out of, I can only suppose, some prescient apprehension of his eventual absence. Nothing else makes sense, anyway.
(I’m going to call Sunny “she,” because the robot reads as female — in Colin O’Sullivan’s original novel, “The Dark Manual,” since re-titled to match the series, it’s called Sonny — and because all the other main characters, including the primary antagonist, are women. It’s their world we’re in, not accidentally.)
Her initial attempts to divest herself of Sunny entwine with her desire to learn just who her husband was; there will be skulking and unpleasant if incomplete discoveries. Drowning her sorrows in the bar where she and Masa were regulars, Suzie meets lively, motley haired Mixxy (Annie the Clumsy), a new bartender, who tells her of the Dark Manual, an illegal underground guide to homebot hacking that might allow her to turn Suzie completely off rather than just unreliably put her to sleep.
It has apparently less benign applications, as well, and every step leads her further into the coils of an overly complicated plot; dangerous situations follow upon dangerous situations, with Suzie and Sunny operating as bickering, bantering buddy cops and Mixxy tagging along out of interest — or is it self-interest? We also see early on that Suzie is under surveillance — by whom? For what? Yakuza are eventually knitted into the story, which is, frankly, a bit of a disappointment; even exotic organized crime is, ultimately, mundane.
It’s easy to resist Sunny at first, because Suzie does, and especially as it’s impossible to tell whether she might cause her owner harm. There is a suggestion in the series’ opening that homebots can go dangerously haywire, and Suzie remains suspicious of Sunny even as she comes slowly to accept and rely on her. But one warms to the robot eventually and, indeed, my main concern through the season was whether it would treat her well.
Like animals, in a drama or social media video, sentient machines excite our sympathies. As soon as you give a robot a face or a voice, or even a vocabulary of beeps, clicks and whirs, they become indistinguishable emotionally from human characters, no matter how many times someone will assert, “It’s just a machine.” If anything, they’re more sympathetic for not being us. Astro Boy. Data. C-3P0. Replicants. The death of HAL 9000 is the one heartbreaking moment in “2001: A Space Odyssey.” With her big eyes and soft voice, her attitudes of hope and worry, her capacity to dream and to get “drunk” on visual feedback loops, Sunny is as much a protagonist as Suzie. (The series is named for her, after all.)
Among a smorgasbord of secrets, it’s suggested that Suzie also is hiding something — she won’t answer when Masa, in a long flashback to their meeting, asks her “the real reason” she moved to Japan. Her desire to disappear introduces the real-world concept of hikikomori, an extreme form of social avoidance in which people sequester in their room, sometimes for years — Masa having been one. (“It’s not a meditation retreat,” he says, when Suzie expresses interest. “When people looked at me, it hurt.”)
Some plot points feel mechanical, like a Rube Goldberg gadget where the interaction of a boiling tea kettle, a bursting balloon, a scared cat and a falling bowling ball are all required in order to, say, ring a bell — when the logical thing is just to take a stick and strike it; there is a lot of extra energy expended in getting from A to B — I won’t say “wasted,” but there’s a degree of nonsense you’ll need to accept.
The series, created by Katie Robbins, is much more successful when it concentrates on personal relationships — I’m including Sunny here, obviously — than on the mystery and conspiracy elements, which are no more compelling or even the point of the journey than a villain’s plans in your average Bond movie. Human mysteries are always more interesting. The prickly relationship between Suzie and her prickly, passive-aggressive mother-in-law, Noriko (actor, singer, woodcut artist Judy Ongg, quite wonderful) is intentionally frustrating and beautifully played.
There are detours in the home stretch, which leads to a twist or a cliffhanger, depending on whether a second season is coming. (There certainly seems more to discuss.) An antepenultimate episode — following the now-common strategy among streaming serials of backing up into the past before finishing in the present — gives Nishijima’s Masa a welcome wealth of screen time; the episode that follows goes, surreally, inside Sunny’s head, for more backstory and context, while Jones remains almost entirely offscreen.
Wayward plotting aside, it’s easy to watch — very nicely made, handsomely designed and photographed, with colorful minor characters and striking performances by the major ones. Best known for “The Office,” “Parks and Recreation” and “Angie Tribeca,” Jones — though she spends much of the time depressed — is powerful even in her inwardness. There’s not a lot of vanity in her performance and less comedy than usual. (The series has a certain comic lightness, from the bright Saul Bass-style opening credits onward, but it is rarely funny.)
Finally, she’ll become a sort of slow-moving action hero — think of Doris Day in the climax of “The Man Who Knew Too Much.” The creators may have.
Movie Reviews
‘Greenland 2: Migration’ Review: Gerard Butler in a Post-Apocalyptic Sequel That’s Exactly What You Expect
Desperate migrants are forced to leave Greenland after a malevolent force makes their island uninhabitable. No, it’s not tomorrow’s headline about Donald Trump, but rather the sequel to Ric Roman Waugh’s 2020 post-apocalyptic survival thriller. That film starring Gerard Butler and Morena Baccarin had the misfortune of opening during the pandemic and going straight to VOD. Greenland 2: Migration (now there’s a catchy title) has the benefit of opening in theaters, but it truly feels like an unnecessary follow-up. After all, how many travails can one poor family take?
That family consists of John Garrity (Butler), whose structural engineering skills designated him a governmental candidate for survival in the wake of an interstellar comet dubbed “Clarke” wreaking worldwide destruction; his wife Allison (Baccarin); and their son Nathan (now played by Roman Griffin Davis). At the end of the first film, the clan had endured numerous life-threatening crises as they made their way to the underground bunker in Greenland where survivors will attempt to make a new life.
Greenland 2: Migration
The Bottom Line It’s the end of the world as we know it…again.
Release date: Friday, January 9
Cast: Gerard Butler, Morena Baccarin, Roman Griffin Davis, Amber Rose Revah, Sophie Thompson, Trond Fausa Aurvag, William Abadie
Director: Ric Roman Waugh
Screenwriters: Mitchell LaFortune, Chris Sparling
Rated PG-13,
1 hour 38 minutes
Five years later, things aren’t going so well. Fragments of the comet continue to rain down on the planet, causing catastrophic destruction. The contaminated air prevents people from going outside, and resources are becoming increasingly scarce. But there are some plus sides, such as the bunker’s inhabitants still being able to dance to yacht rock.
When their safe haven in Greenland is destroyed, the Garritys, along with a few other survivors, are forced to flee. Their destination is France, where there are rumors of an oasis at the comet’s original crash site. And at the very least, the food is bound to be better.
It’s a perilous journey, but anyone who saw the first film knows what to expect. The Garritys, along with the bunker’s Dr. Casey (Amber Rose Revah), run into some very bad people, undergoing a series of life-threatening trials and tribulations.
Unfortunately, while the thriller mechanics are reasonably well orchestrated by director Waugh (Angel Has Fallen, Kandahar) in his fourth collaboration with Butler, Greenland 2: Migration feels as redundant as its title. While the first film featured a relatively original premise and some genuine emotional dynamics in its suspenseful situations, this one just feels rote. And while it’s made clear that the crisis has resulted in people resorting to cutthroat, deadly means to ensure their survival, the Garritys have it relatively easy. All John has to do is adopt a puppy-dog look, put a pleading tone in his voice, beg for his family’s help, and people inevitably comply.
To be fair, the film contains some genuinely arresting scenes, including one set in a practically submerged Liverpool and another in a dried-up English Channel. The latter provides the opportunity for a harrowing sequence in which the family is forced to cross a giant ravine on a treacherously fragile rope ladder.
Butler remains a sturdy screen presence, his Everyman quality lending gravitas to his character. Baccarin, whose character serves as the story’s moral conscience (early in the proceedings she spearheads a fight to open the shelter to more refugees despite the lack of resources, delivering a not-so-subtle message), more than matches his impact. William Abadie (of Emily in Paris) also makes a strong impression as a Frenchman who briefly takes the family in and begs them to take his daughter Camille (Nelia Valery de Costa) along with them.
Resembling the sort of B-movie fantasy adventure, with serviceable but unremarkable special effects, that used to populate multiplexes in the early ‘70s, Greenland 2: Migration is adequate January filler programming. The only thing it’s missing is dinosaurs.
Entertainment
Paramount stands by bid for Warner Bros. Discovery
Paramount is staying the course on its $30-a-share bid for Warner Bros. Discovery, again appealing directly to shareholders.
The move comes after Warner Bros. Discovery’s board voted unanimously this week to reject Paramount’s revised bid, in which billionaire Larry Ellison agreed to personally guarantee the equity portion of his son’s firm’s financing package.
Paramount Skydance, in a Thursday statement, sidestepped Warner’s latest complaints about the enormous debt load that Paramount would need to pull off a takeover. Paramount instead said the appeal of its bid should be obvious: $30 a share in cash for all of Warner Bros. Discovery, including its large portfolio of cable channels, including CNN, HGTV, TBS and Animal Planet.
Warner board members have countered that Netflix’s $27.75 cash and stock bid for much of the company is superior because Netflix is a stronger company. Warner also has complained that it would have to incur billions in costs, including a $2.8-billion break-up fee, if it were to abandon the deal it signed with Netflix on Dec. 4.
The streaming giant has agreed to buy HBO, HBO Max and the Warner Bros. film and television studios, leaving Warner to spin off its basic cable channels into a separate company later this year.
The murky value of Warner’s cable channel portfolio has become a bone of contention in the company’s sale.
“Our offer clearly provides WBD investors greater value and a more certain, expedited path to completion,” Paramount Chief Executive David Ellison said in Thursday’s statement. Paramount said it had resolved all the concerns that Warner had raised last month, “most notably by providing an irrevocable personal guarantee by Larry Ellison for the equity portion of the financing.”
Paramount is gambling that Warner investors will evaluate the two offers and sell their shares to Paramount. Stockholders have until Jan. 21 to tender their Warner shares, although Paramount could extend that deadline.
The Netflix transaction offers Warner shareholders $23.25 in cash, $4.50 in Netflix stock and shares in the new cable channel company, Discovery Global, which Warner hopes to create this summer.
Comcast spun off most of its NBCUniversal cable channels this month, including CNBC and MS NOW, creating a new company called Versant. The result hasn’t been pretty. Versant shares have plunged about 25% from Monday’s $45.17 opening price. On Thursday, Versant shares were selling for about $32.50. (Versant has said it expected volatility earlyon as large index funds sold shares to rebalance their portfolios).
Paramount has argued that fluctuations in Netflix’s stock also reduces the value of the Netflix offer.
“Throughout this process, we have worked hard for WBD shareholders and remain committed to engaging with them on the merits of our superior bid and advancing our ongoing regulatory review process,” Ellison said.
Paramount is relying on equity backing from three Middle Eastern sovereign wealth funds, including Saudi Arabia. It turned to Apollo Global for much of its debt financing. Warner said this week that Paramount’s proposed $94 billion debt and equity financing package would make its proposed takeover of Warner the largest leveraged buyout ever.
Amid the stalemate, Paramount and Warner stock held steady. Paramount was trading around $12.36, while Warner shares are hovering around $28.50 on Thursday.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: A real-life ’70s hostage drama crackles in Gus Van Sant’s ‘Dead Man’s Wire’
It plays a little loose with facts but the righteous rage of “Dog Day Afternoon” is present enough in Gus Van Sant’s “Dead Man’s Wire,” a based-on-a-true-tale hostage thriller that’s as deeply 1970s as it is contemporary.
In February 1977, Tony Kiritsis walked into the Meridian Mortgage Company in downtown Indianapolis and took one of its executives, Dick Hall, hostage. Kiritsis held a sawed-off shotgun to the back of Hall’s head and draped a wire around his neck that connected to the gun. If he moved too much, he would die.
The subsequent standoff moved to Kiritsis’ apartment and eventually concluded in a live televised news conference. The whole ordeal received some renewed attention in a 2022 podcast dramatization starring Jon Hamm.
But in “Dead Man’s Wire,” starring Bill Skarsgård as Kiritsis, these events are vividly brought to life by Van Sant. It’s been seven years since Van Sant directed, following 2018’s “Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot,” and one of the prevailing takeaways of his new film is that that’s too long of a break for a filmmaker of Van Sant’s caliber.
Working from a script by Austin Kolodney, the filmmaker of “My Own Private Idaho” and “Good Will Hunting” turns “Dead Man’s Wire” into not a period-piece time capsule but a bracingly relevant drama of outrage and inequality. Tony feels aggrieved by his mortgage company over a land deal the bank, he claims, blocked. We’re never given many specifics, but at the same time, there’s little doubt in “Dead Man’s Wire” that Tony’s cause is just. His means might be desperate and abhorrent, but the movie is very definitely on his side.
That’s owed significantly to Skarsgård, who gives one of his finest and least adorned performances. While best known for films like “It,” “The Crow” and “Nosferatu,” here Skarsgård has little more than some green polyester and a very ’70s mustache to alter his looks. The straightforward, jittery intensity of his performance propels “Dead Man’s Wire.”
Yet Van Sant’s film aspires to be a larger ensemble drama, which it only partially succeeds at. Tony’s plight is far from a solitary one, as numerous threads suggest in Kolodney’s fast-paced script. First and foremost is Colman Domingo as a local DJ named Fred Temple. (If ever there were an actor suited, with a smooth baritone, to play a ’70s radio DJ, it’s Domingo.) Tony, a fan, calls Fred to air his demands. But it’s not just a media outlet for him. Fred touts himself as “the voice of the people.”
Something similar could be said of Tony, who rapidly emerges as a kind of folk hero. As much as he tortures his hostage (a very good Dacre Montgomery), he’s kind to the police officers surrounding him. And as he and Dick spend more time together, Dick emerges as a kind of victim, himself. It’s his father’s bank, and when Tony gets M.L. Hall (Al Pacino) on the phone, he sounds painfully insensitive, sooner ready to sacrifice his son than acknowledge any wrongdoing.
Pacino’s presence in “Dead Man’s Wire” is a nod to “Dog Day Afternoon,” a movie that may be far better — but, then again, that’s true of most films in comparison to Sidney Lumet’s unsurpassed 1975 classic. Still, Van Sant’s film bears some of the same rage and disillusionment with the meatgrinder of capitalism as “Dog Day.”
There’s also a telling, if not entirely successful subplot of a local TV news reporter (Myha’la) struggling against stereotypes. Even when she gets the goods on the unspooling news story, the way her producer says to “chop it up” and put it on air makes it clear: Whatever Tony is rebelling against, it’s him, not his plight, that will be served up on a prime-time plate.
It doesn’t take recent similar cases of national fascination, such as Luigi Mangione, charged with killing a healthcare executive, to see contemporary echoes of Kiritsis’ tale. The real story is more complicated and less metaphor-ready, of course, than the movie, which detracts some from the film’s gritty sense of verisimilitude. Staying closer to the truth might have produced a more dynamic movie.
But “Dead Man’s Wire” still works. In the film, Tony’s demands are $5 million and an apology. It’s clear the latter means more to him than the money. The tragedy in “Dead Man’s Wire” is just how elusive “I’m sorry” can be.
“Dead Man’s Wire,” a Row K Entertainment release, is rated R for language throughout. Running time: 105 minutes. Three stars out of four.
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