Spike Lee and Denzel Washington Reunite in Bumpy, Vibrant Crime Thriller ‘Highest 2 Lowest’

Spike Lee and Denzel Washington Reunite in Bumpy, Vibrant Crime Thriller ‘Highest 2 Lowest’

By Alex McPherson

Although initially coasting along at a remove and not possessing the urgency of his other recent work, director Spike Lee’s  “Highest 2 Lowest” is a lively experience, featuring first-rate performances from Denzel Washington and Jeffrey Wright.

A “reimagining” of Akira Kurosawa’s masterful 1963 film “High and Low,” the film follows David King (Denzel Washington), an uber-successful music mogul living in a lavish penthouse in Brooklyn with his wife, Pam (Ilfenesh Hadera), and their teen-aged son, Trey (Aubrey Joseph).

David’s label Stackin’ Hits Records is at risk of being subsumed, via an impending corporate merger, into a compromised world of “soulless,” AI-composed music. David wants to preserve the art-focused Black identity of the company that he’s cultivated over the years and plans to buy back the majority of the label’s shares, although he quietly ignores new talent and is growing increasingly distant from his family.

He’s also drifting further away from the passion that drove him to the music business to begin with, even as music-star-hopefuls line up to show him what they’re capable of.

Denzel Washington and Ilfenesh Hadera

David’s plans to counteract the merger are foiled by a kidnapping — not of Trey, but, per a mix-up on the kidnappers’ part, the son of his chauffeur Paul (Wright), who has essentially become a member of the King family. Thus, David is at a crossroads: pay a $17.5 million dollar ransom to rescue Paul’s son from a potentially grisly fate, or save Stackin’ Hits. 

It’s a crisis of conscience that David is forced to reckon with in various capacities, re-discovering what he ultimately stands for in the process as the plot twists and turns in characteristically pointed, but somewhat mild directions.

Indeed, “Highest 2 Lowest” represents a lesser effort from Lee both stylistically and thematically, largely due to a sluggish first act that lacks dramatic urgency and almost feels like the work of a different director entirely.

The film is oddly restrained until we break out of the opulent confines of the King residence and hit the New York City streets — it’s here where “Highest 2 Lowest” sings as a tribute to the Big Apple, and as a cautionary tale about the allure of fame and wealth at the expense of morals in today’s parasocial world.

Washington, in his fifth Lee collaboration, brings the gravitas we expect from such a legendary performer, imbuing David with a sense of warmth belying vanity, the cracks in his facade of wealth and confidence being chipped away at as he breaks down and gradually rebuilds himself again, contemplating what he truly values.

Jeffrey Wright as Paul.

Wright’s Paul, even more so than David, provides the emotional core of the film. Wright (as usual) steals every scene he’s in, delivering Lee’s signature eclectic, lyrical dialogue with delicious flair while subtly illustrating the economic and power divide that separates him from David despite their years of closeness.

Supported by a strong-enough ensemble — including turns from “Mayhem” himself Dean Winters as a shady cop and, more notably, A$AP Rocky as main kidnapper “Yung Felon” — “Highest 2 Lowest” has all the ingredients for compelling, edge-of-your-seat drama, but Lee takes a more subdued approach, at least for the first 40 minutes or so. 

Washington’s performance, in particular, is hamstrung by direction, editing, and cinematography in the first act that doesn’t fully capitalize on the volatile situation David is in — creating a glossy, distancing effect. Pivotal character moments are almost drowned out by Howard Drossin’s score which, while strong on its own merits, furthers a sensation of drifting through scenes without getting fully immersed.

Lee holds back on his characteristic verve while David remains in his penthouse (decorated with Lee’s own art collection), disguising his fiery directorial instincts behind a too-pristine veneer that gradually morphs into a different, far more entertaining beast entirely as both David, and the film itself, move towards a sense of self-actualization.

Denzel delivering the ransom.

There remains no excuse for such a slow start and, even when things start to click into place at the halfway point, “Highest 2 Lowest” never fully recovers.

Still, once David and company hit the streets in an energizing chase sequence — intercut with a vibrant Puerto Rican parade — “Highest 2 Lowest” pulses with colorful Lee flair and confrontational, at times experimental, filmmaking that stands in stark contrast to the “safe” presentation of David’s life of privilege leading up to it.

David’s world is turned upside-down, and so is, eventually, “Highest 2 Lowest,” incorporating David’s eroding cynicism and paradigm shift into the storytelling itself in thrilling fashion. 

Like most of the film’s elements, though, there’s a caveat, and the themes ultimately don’t hit home with much force. Lee is less interested in interrogating the nature of wealth and wealth inequity than emphasizing the (obvious) moral and artistic responsibility of those who possess it, in this case a prominent Black family, and the ways that our interconnected world breeds hatred between strivers and those who have already “made it.”

The sons – Aubrey Joseph and Elijah Wright.

Lee misses an opportunity to dig deeper into David and, especially, Paul — veering into predictability and sanding down the more complex aspects of their characters in the service of a morality tale that impresses more in its telling than the messages contained therein.

“Highest 2 Lowest,” then, is far from Lee’s strongest effort, but there’s still nobody quite like him working today. It’s worth watching on the big screen for Washington and Wright’s performances alone, and the select moments where it becomes the savory Spike Lee Joint we need right now.

“Highest 2 Lowest” is a 2025 crime thriller directed by Spike Lee and starring Denzel Washington, Jeffrey Wright, (Ilfenesh Hadera), A$AP Rocky, Aubrey Joseph, Elijah Wright, LaChanze, Fred Weller, Dean Winters, Michael Potts, and John Douglas Thompson, It is rated: R for language throughout and brief drug use and run time is 2 hours, 9 minutes. Opened in theatres Aug. 15, streaming on Apple TV+ on Sept. 5. Alex’s Grade; B+.

A$AP Rocky as Yung Felon.

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Mid-Tier Wes Anderson ‘The Phoenician Scheme’ Is Enjoyably Chaotic

Mid-Tier Wes Anderson ‘The Phoenician Scheme’ Is Enjoyably Chaotic

By Alex McPherson

As ornately-stylized and star-studded as ever but emotionally out of reach, director Wes Anderson’s “The Phoenician Scheme” provides a rich visual tapestry of idiosyncratic characters and sincere, albeit unwieldy, meditations on greed, goodness, and the personal search for life’s meaning.

Set during the 1950s, Anatole “Zsa-Zsa” Korda (a pitch-perfect Benicio del Toro) is a sharply-dressed, casually vain international financier and industrialist who has amassed boatloads of wealth, shady business dealings, and people who wish him dead.

The opening sequence sees Korda barely surviving an assassination attempt – one of six – aboard his personal plane adorned with his name. The explosion makes short work of his newest administrative assistant, and Korda sends the plane’s pilot (just fired post-blast) soaring skyward via a handy-dandy ejector seat. 

Everyone besides the assistant winds up in one piece, but this latest brush with death has prompted Korda to contemplate his mortality. While he’s unconscious, we shift to a black-and-white tribunal at the gates of Heaven, which we return to periodically throughout the film, sometimes featuring Bill Murray as bushy-bearded God, where Korda is being judged for his sins. He starts looking, however tepidly, inwards, and thus begins considering the legacy he wants to leave behind once he shuffles from this mortal coil.

Korda reaches out to his estranged daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a devoted novitiate nun whom he hasn’t seen or spoken to in six years. He plans to name her heir to his fortune and business investments (“on a trial basis”), and he wants to finalize his elaborate development within the fictional Middle-Eastern-inspired country of Phoenicia: the titular Phoenician Scheme.

Liesl is resolutely against Korda’s exploitative and destructive practices — Korda almost  beams when discussing plans to use slave labor — and she makes clear her refusal to accept his vast sums of wealth. 

Liesl does, however, believe that she can help Korda see the error in his ways within the Scheme, and possibly help to mend the rift between him and Korda’s nine neglected sons, who live across the street from his lavishly hollow estate. She also wants to know the cause of her mother’s death — rumors have it that Korda killed her, or that it was his brother, Nubar (a menacing, impressively-mustached Benedict Cumberbatch). The stage is set for conflict and inevitable reconciliation between Liesl and Korda.

Thanks to the efforts of an American consortium to thwart his power and influence, however, Korda must now attempt to cover the Scheme’s funding deficit (“The Gap”). Thus begins an episodic journey to various investors across Greater New Phoenicia to wrangle the necessary money out of various quirky investors, deploying his characteristic blend of haughtiness and sincerity.

Korda and Liesl are accompanied by Bjørn (Michael Cera, with a wild accent), an entomologist-turned-Korda’s-newest-administrative assistant, who takes a liking to Liesl and who might be more than meets the eye. Oh, and people are still periodically trying to kill Korda.

“The Phoenician Scheme” maintains all the hallmarks of an Anderson film — gorgeously detailed sets, precisely-composed framing, deadpan dialogue, and a smorgasbord of returning faces in roles both big and small. It’s also exhausting, multilayered, and not as streamlined as his best work.

It sacrifices thematic heft for a satirical plot that never quite coalesces into something truly special. But that doesn’t mean “The Phoenician Scheme” doesn’t have its charms, even if the story’s hurried, unconventional structure muddles the profundity of its most heartfelt moments.

Del Toro, making his second appearance in an Anderson production (the first was in “The French Dispatch”), slots in perfectly to Anderson’s particular style, imbuing a character that should be detestable into someone who, despite his haughtiness, is genuinely reckoning with his immoral past and the kind of person he wants to become.

It’s amusing to see Korda’s ostensibly sentimental arc unfold side-by-side with him offering colorful hand grenades, for example, to every investor he meets with. Del Toro delivers Anderson’s signature dryly comedic dialogue with pitch-perfect calibration, while more subtly showing the magnate’s thawing identity brought on by the re-introduction of Liesl into his life. 

This tug-of-war seemingly exists within Anderson’s filmmaking itself, continuing his streak of self-reflection as an artist. The film’s environments are rich with detail but lack warmth, and, particularly in its final third, “The Phoenician Scheme” breaks some of Anderson’s “rules” to reflect Korda’s changing values. It becomes less artificial and more organic in its formal elements, stripping away the unnecessary to get to what really matters.

Threapleton — the MVP — embodies her character’s tension between Liesl’s pious life as a nun with her undeniable draw to material wealth, and to Korda,: a person who seems antithetical to her values. It’s an excellent performance both consistently funny and always operating on a deeper level, marking Threapleton as an actor with a bright future and hopefully becoming a recurring player in Anderson’s troupe of actors.

The remaining characters in “The Phoenician Scheme,” with varying degrees of importance to the plot, are mostly Anderson stalwarts who display expected quirkiness and wry wit. Cera gets most of the film’s laugh-out-loud moments as Bjørn — how is this Cera’s first appearance in an Anderson movie?.

Korda’s cadre of investors — including rail barons Leland (Tom Hanks) and Reagan (Bryan Cranston), the Phoenician prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed), nightclub owner Marseille Bob (Mathieu Almaric), ship-building businessman Marty (Jeffrey Wright), and ,hydroelectric engineer and Korda’s second cousin Hilda (an underused Scarlett Johansson)— are agreeable to watch, but the film’s episodic structure renders them more as amusing asides than memorable, fleshed-out characters. The star power behind them does most of the heavy lifting.

Indeed, amid all the labyrinthine happenings of The Scheme and Anderson’s continued love of nonstop exposition, “The Phoenician Scheme” quickly becomes overwhelming, as the far more engaging story of Korda and Liesl’s connection is nearly swallowed by the mess of everything surrounding it.

It’s not that viewers shouldn’t expect this from late-game Anderson, but when compared to the more-focused successes of “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” “Moonrise Kingdom,” and “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” this latest project doesn’t approach its themes with the attention they merit. It’s all too willing to whisk us away to a new locale or character introduction without allowing much time for reflection.

If viewers go into “The Phoenician Scheme” without expecting anything close to the heights of those aforementioned films, it remains an easy recommendation. Anderson is still crafting experiences more experimental and defiantly strange than most mainstream directors working today, and that’s always to be celebrated.

The Phoenician Scheme” is a 2025 comedy directed by Wes Anderson and starring Benecio Del Toro, Mia Threapleton, Michael Cera, and Benedict Cumberbatch. It is rated PG-13 for violent content, bloody images, some sexual material, nude images, and smoking throughout and the runtime is 1 hour, 41 minutes. It opened in theaters June 6. Alex’s Grade: B.

Sharp Social Satire Lands Knockout Punches in ‘American Fiction’

Sharp Social Satire Lands Knockout Punches in ‘American Fiction’

By Lynn Venhaus

A scathing social satire about the current cultural obsession that reduces people to stereotypes is manifested in “American Fiction,” which is a remarkable directorial debut by Cord Jefferson.

Monk (Jeffrey Wright) is a frustrated novelist who is fed up with people profiting from ‘black’ entertainment that relies on offensive tropes. So, to prove his point, he uses a pen name to write an outlandish ‘black’ book of his own, which propels him to the heart of hypocrisy and the madness he claims to disdain.

Jefferson, who has toiled on some tony television series – “Succession” and “Watchmen” included, has cleverly adapted Percival Everett’s 2001 book “Erasure,” which criticizes the narrow view of black-focused entertainment like Sapphire’s novel “Push,” which was adapted into the film “Precious,” as authentic.

His sharp jabs against the publishing world and Hollywood entertainment that perpetuates tired cliches delivers some knockout punches, but there is a universal family dynamic as a major part of the journey too that emotionally connects.

Jeffrey Wright gives one of his best performances as Thelonius “Monk” Ellison, angry and alienating, who decides to fight back – if you ‘can’t beat them, join them’ – and dumbs down his writing in a book “My Pafology,” as Stagg R Leigh, an ex-con who’s on the run.

That not only gives him the praise that had eluded him but also enlarges the hypocrisy involved. As he tells his publisher, Arthur, nicely played by ace character actor John Ortiz: “The dumber I behave, the richer I get.”

In puncturing the stereotypes through thoughtfully written characters that are part of Monk’s personal orbit, Jefferson gives us a generational story that everyone can relate to because they appear as real people just trying to figure out life.

The supporting cast is exceptionally deep – creating nuanced turns are Sterling K. Brown as Monk’s irresponsible brother Cliff who has now come out as queer, Tracee Ellis Ross as his stressed-out lawyer sister Lisa and Leslie Uggams as their mother Agnes, who is beginning to show signs of dementia.

Tracee Ellis Ross, Leslie Uggams

Lisa has been taking care of their mom, and Monk’s other siblings are harboring resentment about his lack of commitment to his family. Granted, he is in L.A., but now back in Massachusetts, where he’s staying at his childhood home, full of memories and triggers. This is a family of intellectuals whose lives are enriched through art and culture.

Erika Anderson creates another layer as a single woman lawyer romantically interested in Monk, but whose eyes are wide-open to his flaws.

Through his uneasy relationships with his family, we understand that Monk, often self-righteous and condescending, needs to change and could be ripe for a reckoning.

Issa Rae is buzzy author Sintara Golden who pushes all of Monk’s buttons with her critical darling but pandering book, “We’s Lives In Da Ghetto,” that the public has embraced for what they believe is black suffering,

Jefferson’s script is smartly written, but there is a lot to digest over the 2-hour runtime. Besides the blistering social commentary, the family story has multiple layers. This cast really delivers the film’s heart as these imperfect individuals go through changes, not forgetting the past relationships while forging new ones.

In a sweet subplot, the family housekeeper, Lorraine, beautifully played by Myra Lucretia Taylor, reunites with the beach town’s law enforcement officer Maynard (Raymond Anthony Thomas).

Laura Karpman’s jazz-inflected score delicately punctuates the exchanges and confrontations, and the film’s other elements are solid — cinematography by Cristina Dunlap, production design by Jonathan Guggenheim and editing by Hilda Rasula.

The film’s message is not unlike what Spike Lee attempted in 2000 with “Bamboozled,” only instead of television, this is set in academia and book publishing in today’s ‘influencer’ world.

The wrap-up isn’t as satisfying as it should be, but this material is clever and the performances so superbly rendered. “American Fiction” has enough thought-provoking material to keep us mulling over the body of work, and appreciate what it’s trying to say.

F_01952_R Sterling K. Brown stars as Cliff Ellison, Jeffrey Wright as Thelonious “Monk” Ellison and Erika Alexander as Coraline in writer/director Cord Jefferson’s AMERICAN FICTION An Orion Pictures Release Photo credit: Claire Folger © 2023 Orion Releasing LLC. All Rights Reserved.

“American Fiction” is a 2023 social satire written and directed by Cord Jefferson. It stars Jeffrey Wright, Tracee Ellis Ross, Issa Rae, Sterling K. Brown, John Ortiz, Adam Brody, Leslie Uggams, Myra Lucretia Taylor, Raymond Anthony Thomas and Erika Anderson. It is Rated: R for language throughout, some drug use, sexual references, and brief violence. It opened in local theaters Jan. 5 after first debuting at the St. Louis International Film Festival in mid-November. Lynn’s Grade: A-

Owens Fervently Presents Heartfelt Tribute to Judy Garland in Solo Show

Owens Fervently Presents Heartfelt Tribute to Judy Garland in Solo Show

By Lynn Venhaus

Singer-actress Jennelle Gilreath Owens is an old soul. And we are fortunate to experience it in her labors of love.

For a cabaret-theater presentation this summer at the Blue Strawberry, she has assembled a personal tribute to Judy Garland –“You Made Me Love You,” and has put her heart and soul into it.

She plays herself and intertwines elements of her life’s challenges with Judy’s tough times. Judy died tragically at age 47.

The story is tinged with sadness. Yet the star’s luster doesn’t lose any power. Owens’ luminous talent and warm personality make it not just a sentimental journey, but a substantive presentation about our chosen paths. A big takeaway is how people affect us through their gifts, and how we decide to share our gifts matters.

Playwright Joe Hanrahan, artistic director of The Midnight Company, has written a script that hits the highs and lows of Garland’s career and life. He also smoothly directed the show.

“Dear Mr. Gable”

Owens starts off strong with the title song, the fan letter to Clark Gable that Garland sang at age 15 in the movie “Broadway Melody of 1938.”

A longtime fan of the acclaimed singer-actress-dancer, Owens talks about the connection that Garland had with her ardent fans. She was a much-loved star, known for her vulnerability, achingly tender, gorgeous voice, and beautiful spirit, soaring in the ‘30s and ‘40s, and trying to stay afloat in the ‘50s and ‘60s. She had man troubles, struggled with addiction, fragile mental and physical health, emotional trauma from abusive childhood, and career ups and downs.

Garland appeared in some of the most delightful movie musicals of all-time, including “Meet Me in St. Louis,” “The Harvey Girls,” “Easter Parade,” “Summer Stock,” “Girl Crazy,” “In the Good Old Summertime,” “Babes in Arms” and “The Pirate.”

Owens has selected signature songs from those and the Great American Songbook, ones that are strongly identified with Judy –including a bittersweet rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” from her most iconic role as Dorothy Gale in “The Wizard of Oz.”

Two accomplished guest singers joined her on stage for one number each. Jeffrey Wright endearingly sang the Gene Kelly part in “For Me and My Gal,” the 1942 vaudeville-centered musical in which Kelly made his film debut, and it was a lovely pairing.

For a heartfelt mash-up finale, Kimmie Kidd-Booker wistfully sang “Happy Days Are Here Again” while Owens added “Get Happy,” replicating the famous pairing when rising star Barbra Streisand appeared on “The Judy Garland Show” in October 1963.

What a fabulous snapshot and a grand way to end the evening.

In a retrospective of Garland’s career, touching on disappointments noted in the 2019 biopic drama “Judy,” which is based on the superior play, “End of the Rainbow,” Owens mentions Judy’s two Oscar nominations, in “A Star is Born”1954 remake and “Judgment at Nuremberg” in 1961. She sings the memorable torch song Judy delivered in her Oscar-worthy role (she was robbed): “The Man That Got Away.”

Judy and Barbra

Owens’ selections ran the gamut of jaunty (“The Trolley Song” – from “Meet Me in St. Louis”), vibrant (“Come Rain or Come Shine” – from Judy’s 1961 Carnegie Hall concert), silky (“Embraceable You” from “Girl Crazy”) and haunting (Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile” – from her memorable appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in 1963) – all sung with conviction.

On the small stage, she was supported by a mighty combo of stellar musicians, who helped make it a polished presentation. Music Director John Gerdes led Lea Gerdes on woodwinds, Paul Cereghino on piano, and Clarence “Clancy” Newell on drums/percussion.

Owens, who has appeared in regional professional theater and local community theater for the past 10 years, earning multiple award nominations, has two other passions as a performer. She travels the country to present a World War II immersive USO show, “Dixie D’s Canteen,” which captures the 1940s songs and spirit of the Greatest Generation.

She teared up talking about her experiences entertaining military veterans. She is also a performer, producer, emcee, and member of The Bon Bons Burlesque Troupe.

With her busy schedule, the Garland tribute was only scheduled for three nights – July 27, Aug. 2 and 9. It’s such a sincere, affectionate show that I hope it has an encore in its future.

Update: Sell-out crowds have prompted a new date — Wednesday, Sept. 14. More info: www.midnightcompany.com and bluestrawberrystl.com

Jennelle Gilreath Owens, in her Dixie D’s Canteen Show

Love Letter to Journalists, ‘The French Dispatch’ Is Too Much and Not Enough

Love Letter to Journalists, ‘The French Dispatch’ Is Too Much and Not Enough

By Lynn Venhaus
Think New Yorker meets Highlights for the literary geek chic. As a paean to print, “The French Dispatch” is a glorious reminder of how turning pages, enraptured in an article, can take us away to other worlds.

Set in an outpost of an American newspaper – the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun — in a fictional 20th century French city. It brings to life a collection of stories published in the final edition of the newspaper empire’s Sunday magazine, following the death of the editor (Bill Murray).

Experiencing a Wes Anderson film is like being transported into an illustrated picture book with stunning artistically complex worlds both familiar and of wonder – feeling new and nostalgic at the same time.

It is always a unique event that I look forward to with great anticipation, having listed “The Royal Tenenbaums,” “Moonrise Kingdom” and “The Grand Budapest Hotel” among my favorite movies of the 21st Century. And his whimsical stop-animation features “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” and “The Isle of Dogs” (his last movie in 2018) are genius.

No matter if they connect or not, all his films of the past 30 years are painstakingly detailed works of art that offer something different – and feature wit, eccentric characters, superb music accompaniment, and striking composed visuals as common threads.

Therefore, it pains me to say that while “The French Dispatch” is a love letter to journalists and has considerable quirky charms, with dizzying fanciful techniques and the director’s distinctive symmetrical style, color palette and designs, it is at once too much and not enough.

‘THE FRENCH DISPATCH.’ (Photo Courtesy of Searchlight Pictures. © 2020 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation All Rights Reserved)

Set in the truly inspired metropolis Ennui-sur-Blasé (which translated, means “Boredom-on-Apathy,” with a wink), this sophisticated exercise is an overstuffed toy box that melds too many concepts to be as satisfying as his top three. And despite its splendid cast, there isn’t a single character that emotionally resonates.

This anthology, running 1 hour 48 minutes, is crowded with enough content for 10 movies. Anderson’s offbeat screenplay, with a story conceived with Roman Coppola, Jason Schwartzman, and Hugo Guinness, is divided to fit the magazine’s sections: arts and artists, politics/poetry and tastes and smells, but starts and ends with the life and death of diligent editor Arthur Horowitz Jr. – played by Anderson all-star Bill Murray, just as droll as ever.

In “The Concrete Masterpiece” by J.K.L. Berensen (Tilda Swinton), which goes off the rails two-thirds in, Benicio del Toro plays Moses Rosenthaler, a psychopathic artist who paints critically acclaimed abstracts in prison, uses Simone (Lea Seydoux), a female prison guard as a nude model, and attracts the attention of Cadazio, an imperious, impatient art exhibitor played by Adrien Brody, backed by his two businessmen uncles (brief appearance by Henry Winkler and Bob Balaban).

“Revisions to a Manifesto” has student radicals protest, which leads to “The Chessboard Revolution,” with rebel leader Zeffirelli (Timothee Chalamet), who gets the attention of no-nonsense scribe Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand). This meanders and should have ended midway.

The third is “The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner,” as recounted by urbane food writer Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright) in a television interview with talk show host (Liev Schreiber). This is a complex crime caper involving multiple characters, many locations, and quite a roster of talent.

At times, these short stories seem indulgent, rambling, and tedious. Sharper pacing would have helped with the storytelling, which does benefit from the gifted performers who find their rhythm and deliver crisp dialogue in the earnest manner one expects in these idiosyncratic tableaus.

Owen Wilson, who has been in eight Anderson movies, second only to Murray, is good-natured staff writer Herbsaint Sazerac, who takes us on an amusing tour of the city. Anjelica Huston, aka Mrs. Tenenbaum, capably handles narration duty this time –a lovely addition.

One of the pleasures of this film is to see such a star-studded array of repertory players, and more – among them, Saoirse Ronan, Tony Revolori, Christoph Waltz, Willem Dafoe, Edward Norton, Steve Park, Lois Wilson, Fisher Stevens, and Griffin Dunne.

The pandemic delayed this film’s release by a year, which heightened expectations and allowed a clever literary marketing campaign to enchant with graphics and snippets, modeled after venerable periodicals from days gone by. The film premiered at the Cannes Film Festival in July, where it received a nine-minute standing ovation.

Having spent nearly a half-century working at publications, the editorial office setting was the most intriguing yet the least focus — an aperitif instead of an entrée. With every bon mot that Murray tossed off as the veteran editor corralled correspondents, I wanted more of that colorful staff.

The sight of Murray taking a pencil to hard copy, as ink-stained editors once did in non-cubical newsrooms, should make journalists yearn for a grizzled authority figure to cut their long-winded prose and hand the typed papers back with gruff remarks and certain expectations. Writers may weep at the sight of a proofreader and a layout guy trying to fit linotype into a grid, for it’s part of a cherished past.

As a film, tightening those long-winded vignettes would have made a difference.

Nevertheless, the production elements are exceptional, especially from frequent Anderson cinematographer Robert D. Yeoman, flipping between black-and-white and color, and other collaborators Oscar-winning production designer Adam Stockhausen (for “Grand Budapest Hotel”) and costume designer Milena Canonero, four-time Oscar winner including “Grand Budapest Hotel,” and composer Alexander Desplat’s score.

Still, a Wes Anderson movie is like hanging out with erudite English Literature majors, some of whom are raconteurs and iconoclasts, who motivate you to add books and adventures to your to-do lists.

“The French Dispatch” is a 2021 comedy-drama directed by Wes Anderson and starring Bill Murray, Benicio del Toro, Lea Seydoux, Timothee Chalamet, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, Adrien Brody, Jeffrey Wright, Owen Wilson and Elisabeth Moss. It’s run time is 1 hour, 48 minutes and is rated R for graphic nudity, some sexual references and language. In theaters Oct. 29. Lynn’s Grade: B.
Portions of this review were published in the Webster-Kirkwood Times and discussed on KTRS Radio.

‘The French Dispatch’ Is An Extremely Rich, Tasty Concoction

‘The French Dispatch’ Is An Extremely Rich, Tasty Concoction

By Alex McPherson

Wes Anderson’s “The French Dispatch” is an experience as eye-popping as it is utterly overwhelming.

“The French Dispatch,” largely inspired by writers at The New Yorker magazine, including James Thurber, James Baldwin, Mavis Gallant, and others this Gen Z critic has never heard of, recounts the experiences of four writers at the French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas, Evening Sun newspaper based in a fictional French town. These writings take place within “Ennui-sur-Blasé” (Boredom-on-Blasé), which proves to be far from boring. The editor-in-chief, a strict yet sentimental chap named Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray), has just died, leaving behind one final issue of the paper filled with eccentric happenings and colorful characters. 

Anderson’s film is structured like an anthology narrated by the author of each “article,” opening with a biography of Howitzer and ending with his obituary. We get a scene-setter from a beret-wearing cyclist, Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson). Sazerac sets the scene, showcasing a French town packed with people of all sorts, as well as hundreds of rats and cats. We then delve into an arts report by JKL Berenson (Tilda Swinton) as she gives a PowerPoint presentation on an (in)famous incarcerated painter named Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio Del Toro), his muse/prison guard Simone (Léa Seydoux), and a greedy art collector named Julien Cadazio (Adrien Brody) wanting to capitalize on Moses’ works.

Afterwards, viewers are launched into a rather intimate profile, written by Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand), of a young, insecure revolutionary named Zeffirelli (Timothée Chalamet), who amid the student uprising in 1968 engages in high-stakes chess matches with authority figures. “The French Dispatch” saves the best for last, however, as food columnist Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright) — a gay Black man — discusses on a talk show a profile he wrote of Lt. Nescafier (Stephen Park), an esteemed chef of a local police chief The Commissaire (Mathieu Amalric). Both Wright and Nescafier are dragged into a life-or-death situation. 

Timothee Chalamet as Zefferelli

If this sounds like a lot to digest, you’d be correct. There’s so much movie here that it’s hard not to be mentally swamped. This lessens the impact of individual vignettes that are, by themselves, quite profound. Nevertheless, “The French Dispatch” provides a nonstop barrage of aesthetically pleasing eye candy that holds attention even as the overstuffed whole threatens to undermine the compelling characters on display.

Ennui-sur-Blasé is a meticulously crafted setting, a cinematic dollhouse that refuses to be categorized in simple terms. In typical Andersonian fashion, everything moves like a clockwork machine coming to life. A quiet neighborhood suddenly fills with activity upon the rising sun, sets transition between one another as characters walk from room to room, and elegantly symmetrical shot compositions are once again used in full force. Interestingly, “The French Dispatch” also alternates between black-and-white and color photography shot-to-shot — perhaps representing timeless bursts of humanity that transcend the written word. 

Each section utilizes Anderson’s style in different ways, paying homage to French filmmakers like Jacques Tati and François Truffaut, as well as cartoonists from The New Yorker. That being said, “The French Dispatch” knows when to subvert its rules to emphasize the darker elements of this charming, albeit troubled dreamworld, particularly concerning the existential threats that tinge Wright’s perspective with sadness and dread. For brief moments, the madcap fades away to zoom in on true, deeply felt emotions. Alexandre Desplat’s score perfectly accompanies the action, eliciting joy and melancholy.

Of course, there’s an outstanding amount of acting talent here (including some cameos I won’t spoil), and everyone brings their A-game, even if we only spend a few minutes with them. Murray, Del Toro, and Wright are standouts — lending their characters a sense of three-dimensionality that’s all the more meaningful in such cartoonish locations. Although some performances are more effective than others — Chalamet is somewhat one-note, for example — they’re perfect vessels to deliver Anderson’s signature playful, occasionally irreverent dialogue that seems even more obsessive than usual.

Although some might say “The French Dispatch” is style over substance, Anderson’s film grows more meaningful the more I think about it, stretching my Film Studies muscles to approach coherent conclusions. We see a literal tortured artist being exploited for profit, an aging journalist mourning her youth, childish revolutionaries blinded by idealism, and outsiders seeking comfort in an alienating world. While the second portion featuring McDormand and Chalamet comes across as a bit precious and rushed in places, there’s rarely a dull moment. Despite the sections’ differences, they’re thematically bonded through exploring concepts of belonging, passion, storytelling, and the creation of art itself with a whimsical edge that likely benefits from repeat viewings. 

Additionally, the notion of this newspaper traveling all the way back to corn-covered Kansas holds its own significance. Stories should be universal, after all, and “The French Dispatch” underlines how this form of humanistic journalism shouldn’t be discarded amid the changing media climate. As a tribute to artists of all kinds and a wistful thesis on the future of print, this is a film that deserves to be mulled over, and I’m eager to research the people who influenced it. Tighter pacing and more focus could have made it one of Anderson’s best, but “The French Dispatch” is most assuredly worth opening up.

Jeffrey Wright and Liev Shreiber

“The French Dispatch” is a 2021 comedy-drama directed by Wes Anderson and starring Bill Murray, Benicio del Toro, Lea Seydoux, Timothee Chalamet, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, Adrien Brody, Jeffrey Wright, Owen Wilson and Elisabeth Moss. It’s run time is 1 hour, 48 minutes and is rated R for graphic nudity, some sexual references and language. In theaters Oct. 29. Alex’s Grade: B+.

Benicio del Toro, Lea Seydoux

 

Bond’s Craig Era Ends in Satisfying Swan Song — and Fresh Female Focus

Bond’s Craig Era Ends in Satisfying Swan Song — and Fresh Female Focus

By Lynn Venhaus

“No Time to Die” is everything you want in a Bond movie, a super-spy thrill ride elevated by director Cary Joji Fukunaga’s flair for assembling dynamic action sequences and his attention to details.

And in a welcome surprise – assertive women show up in an impressive triumvirate of Ana de Armas, Lashana Lynch and Lea Seydoux.

For the fifth and final entry in the Daniel Craig era as the suave James Bond, our very human hero has left active service at M16 and is enjoying a tranquil life of retirement in Jamaica. However, his peace is short-lived when his old friend Felix Leiter (Jeffrey Wright) from the CIA asks for help in rescuing a kidnapped scientist. The mission turns out to be far more treacherous than expected and leads Bond onto the trail of a mysterious villain (Rami Malek) armed with dangerous new technology.

Fukunaga’s keen eye is well-documented in his unflinching 2015 film “Beasts of No Nation,” in which he was also cinematographer, and his masterful first season of the dark, hypnotic “True Detective” in 2014, for which he won an Emmy Award for directing.

He excels at moving this intriguing spy story along and the globe-trotting camerawork by Linus Sandgren, Oscar winner for “La La Land,” is dazzling. Even at 2 hours and 43 minutes, this slick yet gritty adventure keeps our attention, and satisfyingly wraps up Craig’s story arc as the British icon.

While most other Bond films can stand on their own, some 25 and counting over six decades, the five in the Daniel Craig era are connected. “No Time to Die” relies on viewers knowing that Vesper Lind was Bond’s first wife in the 2006 “Casino Royale” reboot and that tragic backstory, as well as familiarity with what happened in the last one, “Spectre” in 2015 – especially about his girlfriend Dr. Madeleine Swann, daughter of nemesis Mr. White, and sinister mastermind Blofeld (Christoph Waltz), Swann’s dad’s boss.

The script by Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, as well as Fukunaga, is noticeably impacted by the contributions of screenwriter Phoebe Waller-Bridge (heralded creator of “Fleabag”), who brings a refreshing female perspective to the well-documented male patriarchy of the Bond franchise.

This entry is far more female-forward than previous Bond installments – and there is a new 007, Nomi, and she is a feisty, ferocious machine, with Lashana Lynch in a dandy performance, the first black British agent in the film’s 58-year history. No, he may be legendary, but they did not retire Bond’s number, 007.

The iconic ID has been around since Ian Fleming’s first novel, “Casino Royale,” in 1953, and he went on to write 11 novels and two short story collections. Other authors have carried on Bond’s missions.

What direction the Bond franchise goes after Craig’s swan song is anyone’s guess – but post-credits, producers are emphatic: Bond will return in 2022. Debate rages over the possibility of Idris Elba or Rege-Jean Page, or even a female agent. Hmmm…anticipation grows.

In the meantime, Craig fans will enjoy his final emotionally charged performance. He’s been a fine Bond, one of the best, displaying an intensity about dedication to duty, a wily intelligence and a tiny chink in his reserved demeanor about feelings, which is endearing. His orphan roots and lovers’ betrayals have exposed his internal wounds.

While he might not be as memorable as some previous villains, Rami Malek is an interesting adversary as mad genius Lyutsifer Safin, warped by his father’s zeal for using chemicals as weapons.

As the other Bond villain, Blofeld, Christoph Waltz is far better here in one confrontation than he was in the entire “Spectre,” which was a disappointing film after the extraordinary “Skyfall” in 2012.

Not everyone is sold about French actress Lea Seydoux playing the love interest, a rare second appearance for a girlfriend, but it deepened the Craig finale.

This foray features a solid cast, with the always-exceptional Ralph Fiennes returning as a conflicted M, Ben Whishaw as tech whiz Q, Naomie Harris as loyal assistant Eve Moneypenny, Rory Kinnear as government wonk Tanner and this time around, Jeffrey Wright compelling as CIA pal Felix.

Besides a take-notice turn by Lynch, Ana de Armas is sensational as a rookie CIA operative helping Bond in Cuba. She is not given as much screen time as she deserved, and her captivating sequence had viewers wanting more, ushering in a new type of “Bond girl” in a changing era.

Bond may be a relic from a distant past, but the fact that filmmakers acknowledge that change is necessary, makes for a fascinating future.

The franchise, known for stylish escapism, may be forced to adapt to keep relevant in a brave new world, but viewers will always want engaging stories of right triumphing over might – no matter if it’s good girls AND guys.

And wow, are those car chases fun to watch.

Daniel Craig as James Bond in “No Time to Die”

“No Time to Die” is an action-adventure directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga and stars Daniel Craig, Rami Malek, Lea Seydoux, Lashana Lynch, Ben Whishaw, Naomi Harris, Christoph Waltz, Ralph Fiennes, Jeffrey Wright, BIlly Magnussen and Ana de Armas. It is Rated: PG-13 for sequences of violence and action, some disturbing images, brief strong language, and some suggestive material. Its run time is 2 hours, 43 minutes. It is in theaters on Oct. 8. Lynn’s Grade: A


Mustard Seed’s Reprise of ‘All Is Calm’ Strongest One Yet

Mustard Seed’s Reprise of ‘All Is Calm’ Strongest One Yet

By Andrea Braun
Contributing Writer“Last night I had the strangest dream I ever had before. I dreamed that men had all agreed to put an end to war.” –Chad Mitchell Trio
Entering Kyra Bishop’s set feels much like walking onto a battlefield. It is dark and dreary, no color to speak of, just browns and grays all around. There are rolls of copper wire, downed trees, and a backdrop so primitive it is held up by rope. Then, in the distance a man is singing a traditional Scottish ballad, “Will ye go to Flanders?” Gradually other voices join him and nine soldiers enter. It is 1914 at Christmas, and these guys are already tired of the fighting and their voices reflect that sense of weariness, of hopelessness.
But what they also demonstrate is a remarkable ability to sing solo, in ensembles or all together. This is the fourth production of “All Is Calm”  that Mustard Seed has mounted since its premiere in 2012, the third one I’ve seen, and the strongest yet.

The ensemble changes, though five of the cast members have appeared in the show at least a couple of other times. What is remarkable is that whoever is in front of us is fully believable, invested in the roles, and able to bring off every single number in the show from the sublime to the silly.
I couldn’t single out any cast members because they were all so good; here they are in alphabetical order: Kent Coffel, Anthony Heinmann, Christopher Hickey, Greg Lhamon, Gerry Love, Michael Lowe, Sean Michael, Abraham Shaw, Jeff Wright
The center of the story is a real event. On a memorable night in the first year of World War I, the British and Irish and the Germans stopped fighting. Just like that. They had been in mortal combat for days, perhaps weeks, and while they don’t exactly beat their swords into plowshares, they spend a night burying their dead together, playing soccer with each other, decorating a tiny Christmas tree, and most of all, singing the holiday songs of their cultures.
Besides song, the men recite quotations from soldiers’ letters, from the Pope and Winston Churchill, and most moving, two of the so-called “War Poets,” Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon. These young men created a body of literature about the war experience, and there is nothing romantic about it, nothing “sweet and right” about dying for one’s country, as Owen expresses in his ironically  titled “Dulce et Decorum est,” about a slow and horrible death from mustard gas. All these statements give the audience a sense of how the troops from the lowliest private to the prime minister were feeling about the job at hand. So, why did they do it?
Because they were called to duty. Because patriotism motivates both sides in war. And, probably not least because they could be hanged for treason if they ran away. But there is also a sense of real camaraderie here, not only on one’s own side, but among all the men—perhaps more accurately boys—who have been called to kill the other side who look just like them. The Royal Family is 100 percent German, for example. They just changed their names from Saxe, Coburg and Gotha to Windsor. Done and dusted. It wasn’t so easy for the young men who had to take sides, however.
Lighting design is a character too. Generally, the lighting designer does the job by not being particularly notable, but here, the light literally brings life, especially in the Christmas tree scene wherein “Silent Night” begins in a minor key when the tree comes out, then as the lights gradually go up, the song becomes harmonic. Credit goes to Michael Sullivan.
Jane Sullivan and Zoe Sullivan handle costumes and sound respectively and with their usual expertise. Director Deanna Jent and Musical Director Joe Schoen keep everything moving, and in its fifth production, the show works like a well-oiled machine.
“All Is Calm” is by Peter Rothstein, with musical arrangements by Erick Lichte and Timothy C. Takach. Its history is fascinating, having had its public debut on Minnesota Public Radio. Jent notes that: “While not shying away from the horrors of war, it presents a moment of hope that seems to have been transformative for the men involved in the event.”
In only six years since All Is Calm was first presented, our country seems to have gone to war with itself. May the peace among a group of people whose immediate “job” is to kill the “enemy,” serve as an example of the way we might all treat each other and perhaps even someday agree “to put an end to war.”
“All Is Calm” will run through Dec. 16 at the Fontbonne University Fine Arts Theatre. Details are available at www.mustardseedtheatre.com.