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Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
For all our snap-bracelet readiness to embrace girl power and its concomitant hashtags (#yougotthis!), depictions of preadolescents that are worthy of their subjects are thin on the ground. Perhaps because most tweens will just “watch up” anyway, big entertainment has slouched into a comfortable stance of pumping out cutesy kids’ content and edgy fare about high school, without bothering to give much thought to the beautifully messy middle ground.
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, writer-director Kelly Fremon Craig’s entry to the woefully underserved category of period dramas (make of that what you will), is destined to become a classic. Based on – but not entirely wedded to – Judy Blume’s seminal 1970 novel of the same name, the film is an entertaining comedy that also happens to be a stunning evocation of the fear and yearning that come with standing on the precipice of adulthood.
Blume’s novel featured a half-Jewish, half-Christian protagonist who was questioning the existence of God while awaiting salvation via the arrival of her period, and eager to start wearing a bra. These preoccupations come to touchingly radical life in Fremon Craig’s funny-sad adaption, where entire minutes of footage are devoted to Margaret Simon (the remarkable Abby Ryder Fortson) trying on an absorbent pad or investigating different ways to sport a bra when her body does not require one.
There’s little of the derivative about this film, which is largely thanks to Fortson’s incandescent performance at Margaret. She doesn’t play it cheesy or glib as she navigates life as an almost-there. Her eyes brim with wonder and wariness but the body part she puts to greatest use is her shoulders, which tell epics with their slumps and herky jerks. Here is a girl caught between childhood and adulthood, caring and not caring. Watch
Heart of Stone
Who watches the watchers? Who offers covert support to the unwitting secret services when they get themselves into scrapes? According to Tom Harper’s uneven but enjoyable high-tech espionage action romp, there’s a mysterious organisation known as the Charter, controlled by an all-seeing supercomputer and made up of elite former agents, which swoops in to tidy up where governments, security agencies and rogue entities have made a bit of a mess of things.
And if that all sounds a bit MI does AI, that’s presumably the point. There’s very little that’s original in this Bond-alike adventure, which has a fine time of it parachuting ace hacker Rachel Stone (Gal Gadot), MI5 veteran Parker (Jamie Dornan) and computer prodigy Keya Dhawan (Alia Bhatt) into various stunning locations around the world (Reykjavik takes the most punishment). The screenplay is a rudimentary thing – scaffolding to support the set pieces – that starts to creak whenever it attempts any depth of character. But the action is terrific, with a screaming, tyre-shredding extended car chase around Lisbon’s tight, cobbled alleys a breathless and exhilarating highlight. Watch
A Magical Journey
“The Magical Journey” plays as some kind of half-arsed, trippy flashback to the Bad Old Days of Eastern Bloc children’s cinema.
It’s a kids fantasy with a trio of well-known Western actors taking a paid vacation to Ukraine to make it. They’ve suffered for their art, now it’s our turn. Let’s hope Jean Reno, Virginie Ledoyen and Saul Rubinek‘s checks cleared.
“Magical” is set at a Ukrainian film studio where a little girl learns of the perilous path her mother took — at age 12 — to ensure that she inherited the soundstage complex instead of having it fall into the hands of her evil aunt (Severija Janusauskaite).
The costumes looks like community theater cast-offs, the sets like unfinished cable TV kids’ show backdrops and the acting and effects are strictly student film quality.
The script? That ’70s flashback analogy suits. It’s inane and banal and dubbed, sometimes overwhelming the viewer with trite dialogue — “Save the princess from the Evil Queen!” — and often doing that Eastern Bloc political incorrectness thing about the differently-abled to tone deaf perfection.
“We already have one deaf-mute. Who needs another?” Yeah, shout that line at the limping, one-leg-shorter-than-the-other villain. Watch
The Monkey King
Back in the early ’90s, a New Jersey-based company called GoodTimes Entertainment carved out a place for itself in the home-video space churning out straight-to-video knockoffs of Disney animated features. While “The Lion King” was in theaters, there was GoodTimes’ “Leo the Lion: King of the Jungle” on retail shelves, packaged (for maximum mix-uppability) in Disney’s signature white clamshell case. From a copyright perspective, GoodTimes’ strategy was super-sketchy, but as far as parents were concerned, it was easy to get confused — and most kids probably didn’t know the difference.
That bait-and-switch phenomenon crossed my mind when I saw that Netflix was making “The Monkey King,” which — like GoodTimes’ “Aladdin” or “The Little Mermaid” — was certainly fair game, since the source material (the 16th-century Chinese classic “Journey to the West”) was squarely in the public domain. The cynical part of my brain instantly imagined that the streamer was churning out some bait-and-switch cheapie designed to confuse kids looking for “Monkey King: Hero Is Back,” the entertaining 2015 toon (featuring Jackie Chan in its English-language dub) that set Chinese box office records when it came out.
Come to find, “The Monkey King” is a decent-looking, standalone adaptation of the popular Chinese epic, in development at Pearl Studio (formerly Oriental DreamWorks) since at least 2015. Exec produced by Steven Chow (“Kung Fu Hustle”) and directed by Anthony Stacchi (“The Box Trolls”), it’s an overstuffed, manically paced riff on a legendary Chinese character versatile enough to withstand multiple treatments — and good thing, too, since there’s also the CG-heavy live-action franchise, featuring Donnie Yen, and countless other stage and screen retellings of “Journey to the West.”
This version’s a lot more satisfying if you already know the Monkey King character and the broad arc of his story: Hatched from a stone egg, the ambitious simian (disappointingly voiced by Jimmy O. Yang) is destined to be great — and also grating, rubbing the gods the wrong way from the get-go. Buddha warns the wary immortals to leave Monkey alone and “let him find his way,” but the boastful creature is so self-centered, he annoys practically everyone he comes in contact with, including the would-be sidekick he calls “Pebble” (as in, that’s how significant the cocky hero considers her).
Early on, Monkey tries to make nice with a colony of plain old primates by learning kung fu and defeating the demon that’s been terrorizing them. He steals Stick — Monkey King’s signature weapon and the source of much of his power — making an enemy of the underwater Dragon King (Bowen Yang) in the process, and resolves to vanquish 100 demons. He desperately wants to get the heavens’ attention and hopes that will do the trick, but the logic doesn’t quite track. The script seems to be racing past the good parts as it compresses 90-odd showdowns into a brush-painted, heavy-metal montage (a nice break from the rest of the movie’s more conventional CG aesthetic). Watch
Gran Turismo
Product placement has rarely been as chronic or concussive as it is in Gran Turismo, inspired by the real-life experiences of British teenager Jann Mardenborough (played here by the sweetly gauche Archie Madekwe), whose PlayStation proficiency won him the chance to compete as a real-life racing driver in GT Academy, a Nissan-sponsored promotion intended to get the public loving cars again. Before you can say “Ulez”, he is taking private jets and eating sushi (“This is amazing!”) while glamorous destinations flash by on screen: Tokyo! Dubai! Cardiff!
The contest is the brainchild of Nissan executive Danny Moore (Orlando Bloom), who dreams of turning gamers into racers; Moore, though, comes on like a dullard Willy Wonka as he whittles down the candidates. Thank goodness for David Harbour as Jack Salter, a grizzled trainer who delivers an anti-pep talk telling the bushy tailed gamers that they’re doomed to failure. He could almost be addressing Jason Hall (American Sniper) and Zach Baylin (King Richard), the co-writers of the chicane-free script, or director Neill Blomkamp, who made the complex alien allegory District 9 but has trouble animating the simplest exchanges here. Then again, perhaps no one could have brought naturalism to Jann’s home life, where his parents are played by a baffled-looking Djimon Hounsou (“There’s no future in racing!”) and Ginger Spice, AKA Geri Halliwell Horner, who remains as compellingly unable to deliver a line as she was in her Sex and the City cameo 20 years ago. Watch
