The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare: Jolly good show!

The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for relentless violent content and some profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.19.24

This one has it all:

 

Taut suspense; superb direction and pacing; well-crafted characters played by a terrific cast; dry, mordant humor; and a jaw-dropping, war-era assignment that unfolds like Mission: Impossible without the gadgets, and is based on actual events related within Prime Minister Winston Churchill’s declassified memoirs, as detailed in Damien Lewis’ 2014 nonfiction book, Churchill’s Secret Warriors: The Explosive True Story of the Special Forces Desperadoes of WWII.

 

Gus March-Phillips (Henry Cavill, center) believes that he and his lads — clockwise from
left, Geoffrey Appleyard (Alex Pettyfer), Anders Lassen (Alan Ritchson), Henry Hayes
(Hero Fiennes Tiffin) and Freddy Alvarez (Henry Golding) — can seriously compromise
Nazi U-boat activities.

To be sure, director Guy Ritchie and his co-writers — Paul Tamasy, Eric Johnson and Arash Amel — have, um enhanced these events quite a bit; that’s to be expected from the flamboyant filmmaker who brought us (among many others) Snatch, The Gentlemen and cheeky updates of Sherlock Holmes and The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

But enough truth remains to make this one of the most audacious covert operations ever to emerge from World War II.

 

England is in dire straits as this story begins, with London enduring nightly Nazi bombing raids, and American forces unable to cross the Atlantic due to the persistent threat of German U-boats (that latter detail stretching the truth a bit). Determined to break this impasse, Churchill (Rory Kinnear) authorizes an off-books assault — dubbed Operation Postmaster —  proposed by Special Operations Executive Brigadier Colin Gubbins (Cary Elwes) and his personal assistant, Lt. Commander Ian Fleming (Freddie Fox).

 

(Yes, that Ian Fleming. He had quite the colorful career during the war.)

 

The details are to remain a secret between Churchill, Gubbins and Fleming: withheld, in particular, from War Office senior officers who favor trying to cut a deal with Hitler (!).

 

The plan: a clandestine black-ops mission — in other words, “ungentlemanly,” by the norms at that time — involving a small group of carefully selected mercenaries, tasked with destroying a crucial U-boat supply ship berthed in a neutral Spanish port on the volcanic island of Fernando Po.

 

Gubbins’ choice to head the mission: Major Gus March-Phillips (Henry Cavill), currently a guest of Her Majesty’s prison system.

 

(Well, naturally.)

 

What follows is a thrilling blend of The Dirty Dozen, The Magnificent Seven and, yes, the aforementioned Mission: Impossible. Once released and apprised of the assignment — when he isn’t cadging fine spirits, cigars and Fleming’s lighter (a cute bit) — March-Phillips assembles his team, each of whom would walk through fire on his behalf:

 

• Henry Hayes (Hero Fiennes Tiffin), an Irish navigations expert;

 

• Freddy “The Frogman” Alvarez (Henry Golding), a demolitions pro fully at home underwater; and

 

• Anders Lassen (Alan Ritchson, recognized from Amazon Prime’s “Reacher” TV series), an unstoppable killing machine, equally adept with knives and his beloved long-range bow and arrows, who has a charming habit of collecting the hearts of his Nazi victims.

 

Scoop: Fascinating, fact-based depiction of a journalistic coup

Scoop (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated TV-14, for dramatic intensity, sexual candor and occasional profanity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

Movies about reporters have been a cinema staple ever since talkies emerged.

 

Early classics leaned toward comedy, most famously with 1931’s The Front Page and 1940’s His Girl Friday (actually a gender-switched remake of the former). Following World War II, the genre focused more on social issues, with notable examples that included 1947’s Gentleman’s Agreement, 1948’s Call Northside 777 and 1951’s Ace in the Hole.

 

Prince Andrew (Rufus Sewell), naively believing that his "royal bearing" will win the day,
hasn't the faintest notion how his oblivious behavior will come across on camera, when
interviewed by BBC journalist Emily Maitlis (Gillian Anderson)

But it took 1976’s All the President’s Men to bring the genre into crucially important territory, with its depiction of dogged real-world investigative reporters determined to speak truth to power, and warn ordinary people about the monsters hidden in plain sight.

Recent classics similarly ripped from actual events include 1999’s The Insider, 2005’s Good Night, and Good Luck, and 2015’s Spotlight. They remind us of the crucially important role played by the Fourth Estate in a democracy, at a time when honest journalism — in print or on television — is in a death spiral, and an increasing number of corrupt individuals exclude truth-tellers and speak solely to “friendly” reporters.

 

Bloggers don’t break stories or create news; they merely repeat it.

 

All of which brings us to Scoop, adapted from a chapter in Samantha McAlister’s 2022 memoir about her most (in)famous journalistic “gets”: in this case, the events that led to the 2019 BBC television interview that brought down Prince Andrew.

 

As was the case with All the President’s Men — which captivated naysayers who initially scoffed at the notion of investigative journalism being interesting — director Philip Martin’s well-paced handling of these events is fascinating. He gets a significant boost from the sharp script by Geoff Bussetil and Peter Moffat — the latter a veteran of crime-oriented British TV shows such as Criminal Justice and Silk — and a terrific cast.

 

The story begins in 2010, with a suspenseful prologue that finds tabloid photographer Jae Donnelly (Connor Swindells, excellent in this brief role) finally getting the photo — on December 5 — that showed Prince Andrew strolling amicably through New York’s Central Park with his good friend Jeffery Epstein.

 

That picture would haunt Prince Andrew for almost a decade, as he tried to distance himself from the slowly widening sex scandal that embroiled Epstein and his equally complicit partner, Ghislaine Maxwell.

 

Martin and his writers then move events to 2019, as staff members of the BBC current events program Newsnight listen with dread when massive layoffs are announced. Emotions are high, prompting an uncomfortable exchange between “booker” Sam McAlister (Billie Piper), producer Esme Wren (Romola Garai) and on-air interviewer Emily Maitlis (Gillian Anderson).

Civil War: Riveting and upsetting

Civil War (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for strong violent content, bloody and disturbing images, gore and relentless profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.12.24

Alex Garland makes thoughtful, engaging and extremely disturbing films.

 

He clearly has a fondness for cautionary, intelligent What If? parables, hearkening back to his unsettling 2010 big screen adaptation of Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go. Garland then made his directing debut with 2014’s Ex Machina, a brilliant study of the nature of humanity, and the dangers of creating a synthetic being that learns the seductive allure of free will.

 

Jessie (Cailee Spaeny, left) and Lee (Kirsten Dunst), taking advantage of a welcome
respite in a safe zone, get to know each other better ... and discover that they're
more alike than the generational gap might suggest.

And now we have Civil War, a hard-hitting, seriously distressing tour-de-force ripped from today’s headlines, which supplies a distressingly credible view of what could happen in this country, given the path we’ve currently chosen. 

But — and this is Garland’s master stroke — this dystopian, near-future dis-United States is mere backdrop to his story’s actual focus: on the insanely brave photojournalists who serve as war correspondents, risking their lives while embedding themselves in “hot zones,” in order to get The Perfect Shot that’ll bring meaning to the chaos of conflict.

 

The strong cast is headed by Kirsten Dunst as Lee, a seasoned war photographer who has seen it all. As we meet her, sitting in an abandoned parking lot amid the echoes of gunfire, she reflects on her life in dismay.

 

“Every time I survived a war zone, I thought I was sending a warning home: Don’t do this,” she says to Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson), an older colleague.

 

“But here we are.”

 

A preceding prologue found the U.S. President (Nick Offerman) rehearsing potential words and cadence, before delivering a stirring, “We’re on the verge of victory” speech. Garland doesn’t hammer the point, but subsequent details reveal that this is a Trumpian martinet who anointed himself to a third term, disbanded the FBI, regards journalists as traitors to be executed, and has ordered U.S. military forces to fire upon American citizens.

 

We’ve no idea what tipping point led to this war; Garland dumps us into the middle of what has become an extended catastrophe. In another canny stroke of scripting genius, the federal government is being opposed by an alliance of “Western Forces” states led collaboratively by California and Texas. Their goal: to remove the President from office, by whatever means necessary.

 

There is no “red” or “blue,” merely those determined to cling to power no matter what, those who righteously believe in restoring justice and sanity ... and thousands of scattered individuals eager to exploit this state of chaos, in order to indulge their personal, conspiracy-laced vendettas.

 

The latter faction is, without question, the most dangerous.

 

Wicked Little Letters: Hilariously entertaining

Wicked Little Letters (2023) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated R, for relentless, breathtaking profanity and vulgarity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 4.5.24

You’ve gotta love the cheeky epigram with which director Thea Sharrock opens her mischievous little film:

 

“This is more true than you’d think.”

 

When the newly arrived Rose (Jessie Buckley, right) first moves into the house
adjacent to where Edith (Olivia Colman) lives with her parents, they get along
reasonably well. Alas, that isn't destined to last...

Indeed, the vast majority of Jonny Sweet’s script is based on actual events ... including a couple of details that you’d swear he fabricated. The biggest shift from reality lies in the multi-racial casting, which makes the story more entertaining for us modern viewers.

The setting is the seaside town of Littlehampton, in the early 1920s. Sharrock and Sweet hit the ground running, with prim and proper Edith Swan (Olivia Colman) in the midst of an escalating feud with vulgar and earthy Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley). Their hostility is exacerbated by the fact that their front doors are inches from each other, and their row houses have a common wall (which does little to mute the, um, enthusiastic late-night noises that emanate from the bedroom Rose shares with her lover).

 

The close proximity becomes even more uncomfortable due to shared toilets and baths.

 

Edith, last in a massive line of siblings, still lives with her parents, Edward (Timothy Spall) and Victoria (Gemma Jones). The former is a fire-and-brimstone authoritarian and emotional abuser, a role that Spall plays with terrifying ferocity. Whenever Edith fails to toe some behavioral line, she’s sent to her room to copy Biblical passages 200 times.

 

Edith’s mother long ago gave up trying to change this dynamic, and now meekly refuses to intrude. Jones makes the woman so withdrawn, that’s she’s practically insubstantial.

 

Buckley, in great contrast, throws everything into her performance as Rose, a rowdy Irish migrant with a cheerfully foul mouth that unleashes breathtaking profanities, while enjoying life to the fullest: often in the local pub, smoking, drinking and being the life of the party. Buckley is a total hoot: as much a force of nature as her character.

 

But although unschooled, Rose isn’t stupid. She’s also a sharp judge of character.

 

Her boyfriend Bill (Malachi Kirby), calmer and loyal to the core, loves to play his guitar while paying close attention to local doings. Rose’s young daughter Nancy (Alisha Weir) is a sweet adolescent who adores her mother, and has bonded tightly with Bill.

Monkey Man: A ferociously violent revenge thriller

Monkey Man (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for rape, profanity, drug use, nudity and relentless gore and bloody violence

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

When George Lucas created Star Wars, he was inspired by the writings of mythologist Joseph Campbell, and 1930s and ’40s Hollywood serials.

 

When Kid (Dev Patel, center left) attends a political rally, to observe his opponent in a
public setting, he's dismayed to discovered that his enemy is closely aligned with a
messianic guru who holds dangerous sway over a large chunk of the local population.

Dev Patel was stimulated by the ancient legend of the divine Hindu monkey deity Hanuman — symbol of wisdom, strength, courage, devotion and self-discipline — and hyper-violent Asian action and revenge thrillers such as Oldboy,The Raid, and The Man from Nowhere ... along with a healthy dollop of our very own John Wick series.

Both filmmakers clearly were attentive students.

 

And, just as Lucas’ Star Wars universe also became a pointed parable regarding the oppressive behavior of dictators and autocratic regimes, Patel’s film has an equally relevant subtext that mirrors real-world events.

 

That, however, takes awhile to emerge.

 

Monkey Man has been Patel’s dream project for nearly a decade: one that took much longer than expected to complete, and very nearly went off the rails due to Covid, financing issues, assorted other delays, the star’s broken limbs, and an ill-advised distribution deal that would have seen it vanish into the vast wasteland of straight-to-streaming. Credit Jordan Peele for a last-minute rescue, when he chaperoned the project to the big-screen release it deserves.

 

Because, seriously, John Wick fans are gonna lap this up like soda pop.

 

Patel directed, produced, co-wrote — with Paul Angunawela and John Collee — and stars in this slow-burn action epic, which takes its time building to each of its two lengthy, jaw-dropping displays of bone-crunching, eye-gouging, slicing, dicing, defenestration and every other manner of mano a mano mayhem one could imagine.

 

All of which is choreographed with stunning razzle-dazzle by fight coordinator Brahim Chab and a massive stunt team.

 

But their efforts come later.

 

Following a fleeting, idyllic prologue that focuses on the loving relationship between a young mother and her adolescent son — clearly a flashback, although context isn’t yet clear — the story opens as Kid (Patel) endures another pummeling at an underground fight club. He ekes out a meager living, night after night, wearing a gorilla mask and following the orders of tacky emcee Tiger (Sharlto Copley), to get beaten bloody while losing to more popular opponents.

The Beautiful Game: Earns a silver

The Beautiful Game (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG-13 for profanity, drug references and fleeting partial nudity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang

The past couple of months have been quite educational, with respect to sport I’d never previously encountered: first adventure racing, in Arthur the King; and now the Homeless World Cup.

 

The bulk of England's Homeless World Cup team — from left, Jason (Sheyi Cole),
Cal (Kit Young), Nathan (Callum Scott Howells), Kevin (Tom Vaughan-Lawlor) and
Aldar (Robin Nazari) — watch with a blend of awe and disgust as their newest
teammate struts his stuff.

The latter is the public side of the Homeless World Cup Association, co-founded in 2001 by Mel Young and Harald Schmied, as a means of advocating for a global solution to homelessness. Players must be at least 16; have not taken part in previous Homeless World Cup tournaments; and be either homeless, asylum seekers, street vendors or active in drug/alcohol rehab treatment following homelessness.

The playing field follows the rules of street soccer, on a pitch 72-by-52 feet (as opposed to international soccer’s 110-120 by 70-80 yards). The result is a faster, high-action and high-scoring format. Annual tournaments began in 2003, until canceled by Covid; they resumed in 2023, with that year’s World Cup held right here in Sacramento. (Would that I had known!)

 

Writer Frank Cottrell Boyce has been trying to get his script made into a film for more than a decade; this heartwarming little film helmed by director Thea Sharrock is the long-awaited result. (In a total change of pace, she also directed Wicked Little Letters, also reviewed this week.)

 

Boyce’s characters are entirely fictitious, but the environment in which they’re placed — notably, the ramp-up to World Cup play, and the challenges faced by typical participants — is rigorously accurate. As a cherry on top, many of the players in non-speaking roles are former Homeless World Cup participants, who now are no longer homeless.

 

The story begins as Mal Bradley (Bill Nighy) — a retired footballer, now manager of England’s Homeless team — readies players for his 12th shot at top position, with this year’s tournament to be played in Rome. The team includes Nathan (Callum Scott Howells), Cal (Kit Young), Jason (Sheyi Cole), Aldar (Robin Nazari) and Kevin (Tom Vaughan-Lawlor). As the film begins, Mal persuades a reluctant Vinny (Micheal Ward) to complete the half-dozen.

 

This doesn’t go over well with the others, who’ve bonded during (we assume) several preceding months. Living down to their worst expectations, Vinny has a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana, and clearly believes himself superior to the others (which proves true, but is beside the point). Worse yet, Vinny contemptuously feels no need to acknowledge that there’s no “I” in “team,” and he rebuffs efforts at kumbaya friendliness.

 

In short, he’s a horse’s ass.

 

Ernest & Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia — An adorable charmer

Ernest & Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia (2022) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Not rated; suitable for all ages

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.29.24

Back in early 2014, I was totally enchanted by the Belgian/French/Luxembourgian co-production of Ernest & Celestine, a darling little film that had debuted in its native countries two years earlier, but saw no exposure in the States — aside from a few film festivals — until home video release in June 2014.

 

The mysterious, jasked Mifasol refuses to abide by Gibberitia's repressive law against
music, much to the annoyance of the bear police patrol.

Thankfully, a decade later, film distribution options have changed dramatically. As a result, the equally captivating Ernest & Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia is readily available via numerous video-on-demand services.

This sequel once again boasts the lush, hand-drawn watercolor beauty of early Disney animated films and the more recent efforts of Hayao Miyazaki, albeit in a gentler manner. Animation director Davy Durand and his team focus more on character; settings — building interiors, cityscapes — are simpler, often fading into the background.

 

As before, this saga is faithful to the look and atmosphere of the two dozen-plus children’s books published by Belgian author/illustrator Monique Martin, employing the nom de plume Gabrielle Vincent, derived from the first names of her grandparents. She concocted gentle adventures for best friends Celestine, a scrappy little mouse, and Ernest, a grumpy bear musician.

 

The franchise this time has been taken over by directors Julien Chheng and Jean-Christopher Roger, working with an original script by Guillaume Mautalent, Sébastien Oursel and Jean Regnaud, from an idea by Agnès Bidaud and Didier Brunner. (If this sounds like too many cooks in the kitchen, we’ll get back to that.)

 

The story begins on an exciting day, as Ernest (voiced by Andrew Kishino) wakens from his long winter hibernation. Celestine (Ashley Boettcher), thrilled to have her boon companion back, gets too excited and accidentally damages his beloved Stradibearius violin. He’s dismayed; she’s absolutely crushed (and nothing is more heartbreaking than Celestine looking and sounding forlorn).

 

The only person capable of repairing the violin is its maker, Octavious, who resides in Ernest’s homeland of Gibberitia. When Ernest inexplicably refuses to make that trip, Celestine — battered violin in its case — impulsively begins the journey without him.

 

That rouses Ernest, because he knows the route can be dangerous. Once reunited, the pair board a skyway that takes them into the heart of Gibberitia, which he has described as a magical place full of music and art. But their arrival in the town square is oddly quiet ... too quiet. Ernest’s attempt to play an accordion attracts a squad of angry bear police, who tell them that — according to Ernestov’s Law — all forms of music have been banned for many years.

 

(In a droll touch, pretty much every statement in Gibberitia ends in “-ov.”)