I saw three films recently; two stayed with me long afterward.
“Blade Runner 2049” is one, for sure. I write this review as someone who barely remembers the 1982 version, so this will not be a comparison between the two. What it will be is a salute to director Denis Villeneuve (last year’s “Arrival,” one of the best films of year) who has created a visual masterpiece, an artistic swirl of dystopian images and mystery, mythic in its reach. It’s nearly three hours long but this reviewer was never bored; indeed, it was a pleasure to see a director actually take time to allow us to soak up the film’s amazing images and storylines. The solid screenplay by Hampton Fancher and Michael Green is part mystery, part manhunt, part inward journey. The cast—with the exception of Jared Leto, totally out of his element—is excellent. Ryan Gosling, grim-faced but with touches of sensitivity, plays “K,” one of the newest versions of replicants (eerily human-like robots) and the storyline involves the search for the few much-older versions in order to destroy them. Harrison Ford is one of those, and when he’s on screen, he brings both humor and humanity. The female roles are varied, from soft to hard, from kind to cruel, and beautifully acted. All in all, the film is a feast for the senses. Denis Villeneuve has created a modern work of art.
The other film that stayed with me is a documentary entitled “Bobbi Jene,” which isn’t really very good, but parts of it are downright haunting. If, like me, you are basically unfamiliar with avant garde dance and if, like me, you were unaware of a famous Israeli troupe named Batsheva Dance Group and its choreographer, Ohad Naharin, not to mention the woman who left America for Israel and achieved fame in the dance company (Bobbi Jene Smith), then you will be lost for most of the film. Director Elvira Lund offers us no context for Bobbi Jene’s two-year journey as she leaves the company after 10 years there, and leaves her young lover to return to America to create her own work. Her problems are not much different from many women—trying for a long-distance relationship, to have a baby or not, and so on. However—and this is a huge “however”—when Bobbi Jene dances there is a transcendent quality to her work that is sheer, breath-stopping magic. Hers is not a ballerina’s body; no, she is all woman, curves and muscles and long hair that swirls about her head like a soft whip. She twists, she gyrates; she creates the many moments in a woman’s life with her entire being, nude but not at all prurient. The dancer Bobbi Jene is a gift to us all; the film, alas, not much of a gift at all.
The third film I saw, “American Made,” didn’t stay with me, but I had a fine time watching it. It’s the Tom Cruise we know… but not. That always charming, cocky and smart persona of his? This time he’s charming and cocky and oh-so-not-smart at all, as he plays a real person from recent history, Barry Seal. The setting is during the Reagan Administration and the whole Oliver North/gun running/drug smuggling/anything to keep the Communists from invading us mess and Barry is right in the middle of it. An adrenaline junkie, he keeps making foolish life choices, always seeking adventure and money, which he gets, in spades, until it all goes bad. Just as North’s star began its descent, so did Barry’s. The film isn’t as grim as the historical context sounds; there is some terrific airplane footage (Cruise was his own stunt pilot), some funny moments when sheer gall gets him through extremely dangerous situations. All in all, it’s a pretty diverting afternoon at the cinema.
