Belfast: Belfast's current status as the Best Picture frontrunner makes almost too much sense. It's an easily digestible, tear-jerking crowd-pleaser that uses the backdrop of a horrific historical event (the beginning of the Troubles conflict in Northen Ireland in 1969/70) to tell a story about the love between a family and how even in humanity's darkest moments, there's no place like home. Kenneth Branagh's largely autobiographical film is also one of the most underwhelming dramas released all year long. By choosing to tell its story through the eyes of a 9-year-old boy (Jude Hill), Branagh makes an aloof film with an emotional core that solely consists of sentimentality, inspirational platitudes and weepy monologues about love that are tailor made for an Oscar clip. The whole thing is so predictably sappy that it isn't until the closing title card paying tribute to those who died and/or stayed in Northern Ireland throughout the conflict that Belfast bothers to acknowledge the true horrors of the Troubles. While it's understandable that Branagh chose to focus on his fond memories of the period and the bittersweet feelings his family had towards leaving the home they've always known, his schmaltzy approach turns a potent hook into a hollow, insincere film that has little on its mind other than how many gold statues it can collect in January-March of next year.
Grade: C
King Richard: With an ongoing pandemic and political unrest dominating the current landscape, rousing crowd pleasers seem to be positioning themselves as the bulk of the favorites in this year's awards field. If one of these sunny films does end up taking home the biggest prize in cinema, I hope it's King Richard.
This story of the role Richard Williams (played beautifully by Will Smith) played in planting the seeds for his daughters Venus and Serena's incredible tennis careers is the rare sports biopic that puts nuanced character portrayals alongside the obligatory feel-good underdog elements. Over the course of the film which covers everything from the family's early years training on the public courts near their Compton, California home up to the start of Venus' pro career in 1994, Williams is shown to be a loving father who instills his daughters with confidence, a sense of self-worth and an unrelenting work ethic, a shameless self-promoter who used his daughter's gifts to build his own brand and a man who used his limitless bravado to shield his fears of failure and past sins. These are just a few of the many sides of Richard that Smith's layered performance and the thoughtful script from Zach Baylin allow to shine through without undercutting the prominent role their mother Brandy Price (Anujanue Ellis) or the generational athletic gifts Venus and Serena had played in their journey. King Richard is the first truly great sports film of this decade and will likely end up remaining among the top of the heap when the 2020's are in the rearview.
Grade: A-
Bruised: Halle Berry the director fails Halle Berry the actor, who impressively commits to the role of Jackie Jackie-a disgraced MMA fighter trying to mount a comeback-in this middling sports drama that coldly and clumsily trots out melodramatic cliches at an incredible rate in an attempt to sell the viewer on just how much adversity Justice is facing. The reliance on such a cheap tactic is especially depressing since Bruised shows glimpses of real redemptive grace as Justice attempts to win back the trust of her estranged son (Danny Boyd Jr.) and strikes up a close relationship with her new trainer (Sheila Atim), but these moments are ultimately fleeting as Berry and the shaky script from Michelle Rosenfrab return to the familiar misery well (Justice's complicated relationships with her abusive alcoholic boyfriend and cruel addict mother, revelations of childhood trauma that come completely out of left field) seemingly every time the story starts to show off the true humanity of Justice. Most MMA fans will probably enjoy the impressively staged final fight scene between Justice and Lucy "Lady Killer" Chavez (real life UFC champion Valentina Shevchenko), but everything leading up to this big title bout is so frustratingly average and forced that really caring about the outcome becomes kind of impossible.
Grade: C
House of Gucci: Anyone that was worried about Ridley Scott causing some kind of catastrophic unbalance in the universe by releasing 2 great films in just over a month's time can sleep easy knowing that House of Gucci represents the nearly 84-year-old cinema icon at his most unwieldy. Where The Last Duel was a polished, laser-focused medieval drama that effectively uses its gaudy 150+ minute runtime to tell the same story from 3 different perspectives, House of Gucci is a breezy mess that details how constant backstabbing, shameless greed and the introduction of an ambitious, manipulative woman (Lady Gaga) into their ranks put an end to the Gucci's involvement in the global fashion empire that bears their name with no consistency or efficiency whatsoever. Nobody from Scott all the way down to his starry ensemble of actors (Gaga, Adam Driver, Jared Leto, Al Pacino, Jack Huston, Jeremy Irons, Salma Hayek) can decide if they're making a prestige biopic or a trashy soap opera (it's far better at being the latter-especially when seasoned overactors Leto and Pacino are sharing the screen) and it pulls off the always impressive feat of being too long yet not developed enough to feel like a complete story. If it had went into a full camp direction, this easily could've morphed into a wildly entertaining romp instead of just the decent film with a huge identity crisis that it ended up being but committing to a tone on back-to-back films is clearly just too much to ask of Scott.
Grade: B-
