Category: Crime

Twitch & Shout

Motherless Brooklyn – 2019 – R

When you think of memorable private detectives from the world of fiction, who pops into your mind? Here’s mine: Sherlock Holmes created by British author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and television’s Columbo, 1971-2003 with Peter Falk. Add to the PI pool, Motherless Brooklyn’s Lionel Essrog (Edward Norton) a most unusual private detective working cases in 1950’s New York. Lionel suffers from Tourette’s syndrome, a condition that causes repetitive movements, unwanted sounds (tics) and barking out words or phrases at the most inopportune “you have no idea how inconvenient” times. To balance the awkward nature of blurting out what ever comes to mind, Lionel is blessed with a photographic memory that runs like a videotape of conversations, encounters and scenes, a priceless gift when it comes to piecing together the puzzle of detective mysteries.

Lionel owes most good things in his life, including his job as a private investigator, to Frank Minna (Bruce Willis) who became his father figure and mentor by rescuing him, a troubled kid, from an orphanage operated by stereotypical cruel Roman Catholic nuns. Frank’s unorthodox PI agency is made up of Lionel and three other orphanage refugees, Gilbert (Ethan Suplee), Danny (Dallas Roberts) and Tony (Bobby Cannavale), the “Minna Men,” who Frank brings together to do odd urban jobs with the barest PI undertones.

Early in the film Frank bites the dust, victim of a blackmail scheme of his own undoing and Lionel makes it his moral quest to solve the who done it, suddenly needing to tap authentic PI skills, a cut well above his current errand boy, faux PI door shingle. But Lionel’s encyclopedic memory kicks in full blast and the hunt is on. Understandably Lionel’s unwavering, zealous loyalty to father Frank holds true as he relentlessly digs to solve Frank’s dumpster alley murder. Even when Lionel’s life is on the line, even when he’s offered the keys to the “You can do whatever you want and no one can stop you,” NYC kingdom by ruthless, brilliant politician and corrupt charismatic megalomaniac Moses Randolph (Alec Baldwin), Lionel sticks to unraveling the clues on his avenging path. The epic scene between Moses and Lionel is one Biblical aficionados will find reminiscent of Satan tempting Jesus in the wilderness:

Matthew 4:8-10
Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.” Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.’”

This neo-noir crime odyssey takes off when Lionel stumbles into a plethora of colorful characters as he gumshoes his way to a jazz club in Harlem and falls for beautiful Laura Rose (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), daughter of club owner Billy (Robert Ray Wisdom) or, scratch that, daughter of scruffy Paul Randolph (Willem Dafoe) or daughter of…..sorry, can’t say, big, BIG spoiler so stick with the film’s 144 minutes (dear editor, please cut 30 minutes) and hang on to your Stetson fedora for the BIG reveal. Here’s your clue, the key is a key. Keep it under your hat.

Why should you shell out $4.99 to rent this film? Because of the utterly believable entanglement of fascinating, endearing relationships delivered by a first rate, stellar cast; the myriad of dazzling period piece shots of the mean streets of New York; the exquisite, feather light jazz score; and, the “power corrupts” social commentary pitting the crooked and omnipotent against the poor and dispossessed. Set time aside during your rental window to watch Motherless Brooklyn not once but twice, there are so many twists and turns and snaky, shifting subplots that you can’t take digest all the intertwined layers without a replay. Does Lionel light a match in the Borough Authority darkness? Does David take down Goliath? Grab your slingshot and a pocketful of stones and rag-tag along!

This film was twenty years in the making, Edward Norton acquired the rights to Jonathan Lethem’s novel, Motherless Brooklyn, in 1998. There are interesting historical parallels you can review here before, or better, after watching the fictional account.

Mob Men

The Gentlemen – 2020 – R

Just for fun stop by the snack bar and forego the popcorn for a giant salted pretzel to eat in sync with this movie’s spiraling twists, turns and twirls. Mickey (Matthew McConaughey), an American in London offers to sell his thriving British underground marijuana farms to fellow American billionaire, sleazy Matthew (Jeremy Strong, Succession) and blissfully exercise early retirement to fully enjoy Rosalind, Mickey’s stiletto-heeled wife (Michelle Dockery, Downton Abbey) who runs an auto-repair garage staffed exclusively by women. But the lucrative drug trafficking opportunity is chumming the River Thames luring all manner of hungry fresh water sharks to the city. Taking the bait is Chinese gangster “Lord George“ (Tom Wu) but his underboss “Dry Eye” (Henry Golding, Crazy Rich Asians), strutting his independence and representing the up and coming Asian gangsta youth movement, shoots a different plan to Lord George. Crooked private investigator/paparazzi reporter Fletcher (Hugh Grant) is cheerily dedicating his telephoto lens and camouflage expertise to blackmail Mickey’s #1 henchman Ray (Charlie Hunnam, Sons of Anarchy) by selling the unfolding, exclusive, murdering mob and dope tale to tabloid owner “Big Dave” (Eddie Marsan, Vice) who is determined to enact revenge on Mickey who publicly snubbed diminutive Big Dave at a highfalutin London party. Whew! There you have it. Full circle. Mickey to Matthew to Lord George to Dry Eye to Fletcher to Ray to Big Dave back to Mickey. Well, not quite. There is “Coach” (Colin Farrell), neighborhood legend boxing coach who winds up owing three favors to Mickey because Coach’s stable of brawling, YouTube viral-seeking karate kids overstepped their gym boundaries into Mickey’s business. Coach not only pays off his debt but throws in one machine gun rescue as a bonus fourth favor. Then there’s the Russian connection with former KGB czar daddy who takes exception to Aslan (Danny Griffin), his heir-apparent son face-planting the London sidewalk from two stories up, winding up in a body bag in Ray’s home freezer. On the heels of Aslan’s fall from fame is the demise of anorexic Laura (Eliot Sumner), daughter of Lord Pressfield (Samuel West). Lord Pressfield is an estate beneficiary of Matthew’s enterprise, a literal “overlord.” His income is cut off because of tangling with the karate kid gang but Mickey, trying to make amends, promises to rescue Laura who gets mixed up with Aslan and it’s a big heroin mess. Follow the Moscow Mule to the White Widow Super Cheese weed. Cannabis chaos.

The entire movie is framed as a conversation between manic Fletcher and deliberate Ray. Fletcher pitches to Ray, typed up as a screen play at a $20 million price tag, the damning, blackmailing evidence he’s clandestinely gathered. Ok? Got it? If it’s any comfort, it took me so long to diagnose the movie-within-a-movie format that I missed important clues flying by in the fast and furious dialogue. Fletcher talked way too fast and Ray way too slow. The British slang went over my head. I like to think of myself as able to cope with the circuitous but this movie took such a scenic route that I wished for an occasional linear respite. For all I know the movie-within-the-movie was the movie. Confused? Me, too. Maybe buy two pretzels.

Rough Cut

Uncut Gems – 2019 – R

Gambling on sports is nothing I understand. Over, under, even, lines, parlay. Uncut Jewels offers no mercy to those unschooled in betting. Actually Uncut Jewels offers no mercy to those schooled (in pretty much anything). Period. The film’s dialogue was reduced to strings of profanity, expletives and f-bomb obscenities. 95% of the film’s dialogue can be boiled down to some variation of you mother F@#$&*%$  piece of @#$& sucking @#$&! The other 5% were exchanges between a team of gastroenterologists conducting a colonoscopy. Sigmoid colon, polyps, diverticula. Riveting.

The film’s 135 minutes were continual, nonstop, unrelenting turbulence, like being thrashed about by storm whipped waves—slammed,tossed, smashed—one gulp and gasp short of drowning. Agitating. Draining. Exhausting. And so much yelling. Men, women, children, the audition criteria for this movie was measured in decibels. I scream you scream. We all scream and yell and curse and shout and shriek at everyone around. And that’s us the audience! Crushed into frenetic, raving oblivion by an ingratiating, asinine tale of addiction and adrenaline, characters incessantly clamoring and talking over each other, we suffered a collective audience anxiety attack. Look that up in the DSM-5 and file an insurance claim.

The hoard of lowlife characters are dislikable, distasteful dimwits. The leading dunderhead, New York Diamond District jeweler Howard Ratner (Adam Sadler) is an unscrupulous, lying scumbag, whose con artist life is a treacherous pyramid scheme of stupidity, sellouts and screwups. He owes debts upon bets. He pawns things borrowed and sells things loaned. There is not a single endearing quality enough to salvage his soul when the inevitable day of doom descends. His wife Dinah (Idina Menzel) dishes it out the best, “I think you are the most annoying person on the planet.” Agreed. Too bad the writers couldn’t figure out a slant where Grammy, Oscar and Tony feted Menzel could have belted out a song or two. She might have redeemed this ill-conceived, crude, moronic  @#$&*+%  movie. Take the money and run. No diamonds in the rough to be had, just a bad lot.

Tragic Immortality

Queen & Slim – 2019 – R


Proceeding with caution do I offer observations on this Black film that writer Lena Waithe calls “protest art,” the film’s title representing Black people in America, not the names of the two lead characters. We don’t even hear their “real” names, Ernest and Angela, until a tv news broadcast at the end of the movie. Two young African-Americans, Jesus-fearing Ernest (Daniel Kaluuya – Get Out, Black Panther) and criminal defense attorney Angela (Jodie Turner-Smith – first lead role in a feature film) meet in a modest diner for a computer match date. They don’t really hit it off but with dramatic irony will wind up spending the rest of their lives together. Leaving the cafe they are pulled over by a White cop for a minor infraction. We learn later that this officer has a publicly known history of violence towards Blacks. The seemingly innocent traffic stop predictably ends deadly, Angela grazed in the leg, shot by the officer and then Ernest, in an act of self defense and a genre turnaround, kills the officer. The worst blind date in history turns into an Ohio to Macon to New Orleans to Miami road trip, the young couple ducking and dodging a nationally televised cop killer man hunt. Their faces are splashed all over the media elevating them to hero status in Black communities. Their journey to safety, an impromptu plan to get to Cuba, evolves into a contemporary Underground Railroad where Blacks and a smattering of Whites informally pull together to provide them safe passage. There are hints of Romeo and Juliette, Bonnie and Clyde, Thelma and Louise and Harriett in the film’s 132 minute runtime so do invest in a quick review of this classic/instant classic filmography before you go. There is also an excellent article in Oprah Magazine worth reading, https://www.oprahmag.com/entertainment/tv-movies/a29953547/who-is-jodie-turner-smith/

 The young couple’s odyssey across the countryside, at first filled with hostility and blame towards each other, grows into a budding romance culminating in a steamy sex scene in the front seat of their car. Their lengthy lovemaking is intersected with scenes of a violent local protest—about their plight—where a Black Officer in riot gear is shot point blank in the head by a Black teen who earlier met and instantly idolized the couple as the teen’s reluctant car mechanic father repaired the couple’s blown radiator. A fallen Black officer killed at the hands of an enraged Black youth represents, to me, how Black Lives Matter injustices infiltrate and corrupt the actions of all, spreading hatred and anger across and within races.

Queen and Slim is a tough movie to watch, especially as a White person whose race is the target of this Black J’Accuse. Guaranteed, the film is disturbing and will cause discomfort, but art often speaks to the heart where other mediums fail. Having it’s world premiere at the American Film Institute’s annual celebration of artistic excellence, a showcase for the best festival films of the year, Queen & Slim is a daring story full of cultural symbolism, metaphor, allusion and allegory.  There is the exciting physical escape and there is a compelling parallel psyche escape filled with wonderful scenes of the couple shedding invisible societal chains, daring to live their lives without apology or fear, as simple as dancing in a homegrown Black nightclub, jumping a fence and riding an elegant white horse, or hanging out the window of their moving car, carefree faces turned joyfully into the wind. Their final declaration of freedom will break you. For these reasons alone, I’d encourage you to see this film, going in with an open mind and hopefully coming out with an open heart. 

Painting Houses Red

The Irishman – 2019 – R


Full disclosure, when I spotted the 3 1/2 hour runtime, I elected to watch The Irishman on Netflix from the comfort of my reclining LazyBoy within ten paces of my personal snack bar known best as “the kitchen.” I couldn’t think of tucking into a theater seat for that long without needing help to get up.  I envisioned pushing the concession order button and facing this humiliating exchange,“What may I get you?” “Up.” Plus I could refill my personal, perfect-for-this-movie beverage cup as often as I wished! 

Martin Scorsese’s gangster epic stars Joe Pesci as mob boss Russell Bufalino, Robert De Niro as Mafia hit man Frank Sheeran and Al Pacino as Teamster Union leader Jimmy Hoffa. Three Hollywood Hall of Fame actors and one iconic director unite to craft an extraordinary saga that covers decades of true-to-life intersections between organized labor and organized crime, a legacy story of friendship and loyalty, brutality and reckoning. People power wielded by powerful people. Don’t expect any warm fuzzies though. No kumbaya moments from the Pesci/DeNiro/Pacino Trio. I held my breath during baptism scenes. Friendship falters at the foot of power. Always. Jimmy Hoffa should have seen Frank Sheeran coming. Et tu, Brute? Securing and defending power and position trumps any mobster code of conduct. Underscore, there is no honor among thieves. The carnage grinds along, but setting a decidedly unique tone from the typical gangster genre, violence was casual, matter-of-fact, ho hum. Sheeran strolls up behind some poor upstart schmuck, shoots him twice in the head, walks away, tosses his gun over a bridge (there is a very funny scene about the gun graveyard) and heads home for supper. The message is clear, “Nothing to get worked up over. {shrug} Just another day painting houses. Pass the spaghetti please.” To keep the same actors and shrug consistency—even as their stories bounce around through the decades—computerized de-aging digital technology was used. Oh, Santa, please leave a sample of that Fountain of Youth in my Christmas stocking.

Maybe because the film relied on its trio of septuagenarian stars, senior citizen gangstas prevailed. There is no youth movement or secession planning. In general, Mafia men share a similar fate as marine life where 95% of all sea creatures will be eaten by bigger, badder sea creatures. Could be where we get the well known gangland cliché, “Swimming with the fishes.” Death is simply an occupational hazard. By taking out their competitors ad infinitum and ad nauseam, the 5% claiming the top of the mobster food chain survive into their golden years. There is a downside though. As mobsters age, it gives the feds time to catch up, the “old” turn “elderly,” still competing for #1 to the bitter end, but now confined to wheelchairs or pushing walkers around federal prison yards playing bocce ball. The non-incarcerated alternative is even worse. The film opens with narrator Sheeran abandoned to a lonely nursing home vigil, wrapped in a warm shawl, waiting for family that never appear, a phone that never rings, a letter that never arrives. But at least aged Frank has the means to select the most magnificent coffin featured in the funeral home coffin showroom! Pitiless, brutal emptiness. 

The Irishman is not The Godfather and La Cosa Nostra. Jimmy Hoffa is German-Irish, Frank Sheeran, Swedish-Irish and Russell Bufalino, the sole Sicilian. Organized crime embraces diversity and fans out from New York to Philly to Detroit to Vegas. It’s a grand tale. And it’s not over yet. Francesco “Franky Boy” Cali, leader of the Gambino crime family was gunned down last March outside his Staten Island home, the first murder of a mob boss since 1985. The FBI estimate 3,000 Italian-American mafia members continue operating gambling, loan-sharking, extortion, human trafficking, and drug-running (mostly heroin) enterprises. Meanwhile, Russia, Africa, Latin America, and Asia, studying the American model, flexed their international mob muscle and organized a global web of illicit and illegal productivity. Fodder for an endless stream of crime films. The Russian. The Colombian. While you wait for these spin-offs or a Godfather IV, watch The Irishman. You’re not afraid of tough guys, are you?