Escape from Alcatraz (1979)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Escape from Alcatraz (1979) – D. Siegel

Ah, the prison film – it has such a long history and so many clichés.  Escape from Alcatraz does not really eschew any of these but as crisply directed by Don Siegel and starring Clint Eastwood in his macho prime, it’s a solid effort.  But does it live up to the masterworks of the genre? (Maybe not). I’m thinking of Bresson’s A Man Escaped (1956), Becker’s Le Trou (1960), Dassin’s Brute Force (1947), and maybe Caged (1950) starring Eleanor Parker.  Obviously, there are a lot of variations on the theme (e.g., The Shawshank Redemption, 1994) and modern versions might be even more brutal (e.g., A Prophet, 2009).  But Alcatraz is based on a true story with an open-ended conclusion: the escapees were never found (presumed drowned but who knows?). So, since we know where the story ends up (as forecast by the title), this is really all about the mechanics of the escape (similar to the Bresson and Becker films), with a little bit of relationship building and character development (but not much!).   

 

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Letter to Three Wives (1949) – J. L. Mankiewicz

I missed the first five minutes or so and came in just when the three wives (Jeanne Crain, Linda Darnell, and Ann Sothern) received the letter in question from idealized but never seen “Addie Ross” who claims that she has run away with one of their husbands (Jeffrey Lynn, Paul Douglas, and Kirk Douglas, respectively.  Joseph L. Mankiewicz won Oscars for best screenplay and best director (who then did it again for All About Eve, the following year).  As the three are just departing on a picnic day-trip as volunteers for under-privileged children, they get to spend the day ruminating about whether their husbands have left them.  Viewers are therefore treated to three extended flashbacks providing “evidence” (based on the anxieties of our heroines) as to why each husband might have grounds to leave.  As such, we are treated to three very different relationships – a la 1950s – and have the ability to guess who it might be.  When the ladies return home, one of them discovers her husband is away – but there’s a sudden twist that clouds whether he’s really run away with Addie or not.  Apparently General Douglas McArthur wrote to Mankiewicz to try to clear this up and was told everything he needed to know was there on the screen!  It’s melodrama to be sure but superbly acted (Paul Douglas is particularly impressive in his feature debut).

 

Blue Moon (2025)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Blue Moon (2025) – R. Linklater

Ethan Hawke is impressive in a virtual transformation into lyricist Lorenz Hart (one half of the Rodgers and Hart duo responsible for popular standards and Broadway musicals) on a particular evening at Sardi’s in New York City in 1943. The occasion is the opening night for Oklahoma!, a new musical by Rodgers and his new collaborator Oscar Hammerstein. Hart is a witty raconteur keeping the bartender and pianist and occasional waitress or hat check girl entertained, as they await the arrival of the cast and crew post-show.  He’s dirty-minded but erudite, displaying an impressive memory for lyrics and writing (his own and others), particularly when chatting up author E. B. White who sits in a corner of the bar.  Not unlike the Before Trilogy (e.g., Before Sunrise, 1995), Blue Moon is all talk – but without Julie Delpy, this is entirely Hawke’s show.  Despite his humor and witty stories, it is easy to see that Hart is deep down a sad and lonely figure, fixated on a possible romance with 20-year-old Margaret Qualley (Hart is 47 but looks older) that is clearly never-to-be.  When Rodgers arrives, it’s sad to see Hart’s thinly veiled desperation, as they discuss possible future shows. Obviously, Hart has made a hash of his life because of alcohol, nightlife, and general dissolution. Hawke and Linklater keep viewers absorbed despite the lack of action, even if there’s the occasional distraction caused by clumsy attempts to make Hawke look as short as Hart apparently was.  Enjoyable, particularly if you are a Broadway musical afficionado (and are prepared for salty talk).   

 

The Devil and Miss Jones (1941)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Devil and Miss Jones (1941) – S. Wood

In the ‘30s and ‘40s, Jean Arthur starred in films for Capra, Hawks, and George Stevens, as well as Mitchell Leisen/Preston Sturges, and, for this film, Sam Wood. She’s always a delight.  Wood, however, was an ultra-right-winger who testified before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1947 – which makes absolutely no sense when it comes to this film which strongly advocates for unions and the rights of workers – in a gentle comedic way.  So much for auteur theory (at least under the studio system).  Jean Arthur wasn’t the only reason we tuned into this one on TCM – it also stars Charles Coburn (who was nominated for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar but didn’t win).  He’s the wealthiest man in America (or at least New York) who finds that he still owns a Manhattan department store and worse, that the workers are agitating for their rights, including by hanging a dummy of Coburn in effigy.  However, Coburn is a man who values his privacy, so no one really knows what he looks like.  This allows him to go undercover as a shoe salesman to try to identify the rabble rousers on his staff with the intention to fire them. Instead, he makes friends with Jean Arthur (also in the shoe department) and her boyfriend Robert Cummings (the main union organizer) and Spring Byington (who becomes his love interest).  Although not really laugh out-loud funny, Coburn’s reactions to the situations he finds himself in (while pretending not to be himself) are always amusing and the film has plenty of charm and a message we shouldn’t forget. Escapist fare for challenging times.

 

If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You (2025)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

If I Had Legs, I’d Kick You (2025) – M. Bronstein

Rose Byrne has been nominated for the Best Actress Oscar and this film is entirely hers.  It’s also a return to directing for Mary Bronstein after 15 or so years off.  Bronstein (who also plays a small role as a pediatric doctor) tends to keep the camera tightly framed around Byrne who plays Linda, a therapist at the end of her rope, coping with a seriously ill young daughter, a husband away on a work trip, a handful of peculiar clients, an awkward relationship with her own therapist (played by Conan O’Brien), and a burst pipe/mysterious hole in the ceiling of her apartment that has left her living out of a cheap motel. To say the film is chaotic and intense might be an understatement – there may need to be a warning to anyone suffering anxiety to avoid it.  It’s impossible to do anything other than to let the film’s cascading hassles wash over you. Byrne has our sympathy/empathy even when she doesn’t seem to act in her own best interest. At one point, she states that she’s the type of person who never should have become a mother -- but viewers might be right to question this and instead ponder whether the circumstances of her life might overwhelm anyone. If some of this is intended to be “dark comedy” (when some events are too ludicrous to believe), it is dark indeed.  Kudos to Rose Byrne.

 

Heretic (2024)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Heretic (2024) – S. Beck & B. Woods

I don’t think I’ve ever sought out a Hugh Grant film, but I’ve always found him an engaging personality. Here, in this horror movie from A24, he plays a contrarian character, Mr. Reed, who invites two young Mormon women (Sophie Thatcher and Chloe East), doing their missionary work, into his house after they knock on his door to proselytize. Therein begins an in-depth discussion of religion that puts the women on the back-foot, as Mr Reed gradually reveals his cards (while remaining enthralling/ingratiating, if also creepy), and showing him to be disdainful of religion (not just Mormonism but more widely). Obviously, the girls worry that he is a predator (especially as his wife never materialises). Eventually, he offers to show his guests the one true religion, that he has discovered through careful study – and also through the words of a prophet that he has mysteriously on hand.  Did I mention that this is a horror movie? Writer-directors Scott Beck and Bryan Woods (previously known for writing A Quiet Place, 2018) keep things creepy and tense (and often ambiguous) for much of the film, although as it proceeds, implausibilities in the plot start to accumulate. So, some suspension of disbelief (hah!) is required -- and even if the ending might be disappointingly typical (and the philosophical points never very substantive), the film overall is an enjoyable sometimes heady experience.    

 

Frankenstein (2025)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Frankenstein (2025) – G. del Toro

For me, director Guillermo del Toro has been hit-or-miss. Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) and The Shape of Water (2017) were high points whereas other films looked great but suffered from overlength or uncertain plotting. Unfortunately, Frankenstein also falls into this latter category. Not unlike what Robert Eggers did with Nosferatu (2024), del Toro takes the basic Frankenstein story and then fashions his own plot around it (for better or for worse, in both cases).  Of course, the general theme – about responsibility for creating life with science -- remains intact but del Toro broadens it into an examination of parent-child relations (or specifically poor parenting). We begin with a new framing story, where Oscar Isaac’s Victor Frankenstein has been rescued by a clipper ship heading to the North Pole; he’s being hunted by his monster and tells his tale to the ship’s captain (also an obsessive, disregarding his crew’s wishes as he presses northward under harsh conditions). We are then in flashback, learning about Victor’s childhood (and distant disparaging father), his controversial experiments (with horror genre special effects), his patronage by rich arms manufacturer Christoph Waltz, his interest in his brother’s intelligent fiancée Mia Goth, and of course, the birth of the monster (Jacob Elordi) and their subsequent relationship. Later, we see the same story from the monster’s perspective, which brings us forward to the present time. As to be expected, the film often looks great (reviewers are describing it as a gothic fantasy, which is apt) and that extends to the costumes, art design, set decoration, etc. (del Toro claims to have relied on practical handcrafted effects rather than CGI, although this seems sometimes doubtful). But the plot, occasionally verging on Shakespearean (tragedy), lingers too long in some scenes, and the dialogue sometimes feels turgid and pretentious. (I wonder whether there is a Mexican or European sensibility influencing this). That said, Jacob Elordi manages to acquit himself very well in an unusual part.  Ultimately, this is the kind of film that sticks with you for its wondrous elements, even if those elements sit within a flawed whole.