‘Assassins’ Expose Is a Journalistic Achievement

‘Assassins’ Expose Is a Journalistic Achievement

By Alex McPherson
Director Ryan White’s “Assassins” is a scathing indictment of North Korean politics and a timely reminder of the lengths that some people will go to retain power.

On February 13, 2017, Kim Jong-nam, the half-brother of Kim Jong-un, was fatally poisoned in broad daylight at Kuala Lumpur International Airport in Malaysia. Security cameras recorded two young women, the Indonesian-born Siti Aisyah and Vietnamese-born Doan Thi Huong, carrying out the deed, rinsing the poison off their hands, and leaving the airport. Siti and Doan were arrested a couple days later, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of what they had just done. Per the Malaysian legal system, they both faced the death penalty if found guilty of the murder. Are Siti and Doan highly skilled assassins, or are they mere pawns being controlled by larger forces?

White’s film, composed of interviews with those involved in the events themselves and the investigation, seeks to uncover these answers. As the larger plot is unearthed, “Assassins” becomes a persuasive ode to journalism and empathy for those marginalized, arguing for justice in a world plagued by selfishness and brutality. The film often proves heartbreaking, upsetting, and downright infuriating. We witness the truth being obscured by power hungry individuals only interested in protecting themselves, no matter the cost. 

Through relying on plain-spoken interviewees, this increasingly complex tale is presented in an accessible fashion, ensuring that practically anyone can get wrapped up in the proceedings. Expectations might be subverted, and previous notions of culpability and victimhood may be upended — all through the film’s empathetic eye and outlining of cold, hard evidence.

While White’s filmmaking lacks a distinctive style, the central events and subsequent investigation are more than enough to keep viewers engaged. In a way, though, the film doesn’t need additional cinematic flourishes to render it compelling. Feelings of dread and suspense are palpable, and it’s easy to become enthralled by the film’s drama based on the subjects alone. White’s film is a no-frills affair, embracing the journalistic process and taking time to explore the backgrounds of Siti and Doan, as well as North Korea generally, with strong attention to detail.

Indeed, as we learn more about Siti and Doan — who had no previous connections to North Korea — we see two individuals being exploited by larger pressures operating behind the scenes, leading them down a path that, unbeknownst to them, involved political assassination. Siti and Doan’s portrayals aren’t simplified for dramatic purposes, and “Assassins” quickly establishes them as sympathetic individuals, coming from loving families and humble origins, with their own hopes and dreams, but remaining vulnerable and naive amid a world drenched in ambiguity.

“Assassins” also provides a blunt crash course on North Korean history, detailing the rivalry between Kim Jong-un and Kim Jong-nam. The film makes a strong argument that, well, Kim Jong-un is an unstable, murderous leader, as if that wasn’t already obvious — all the more nauseating that former President Donald Trump cuddled up to him.

By the film’s conclusion, I was shaken, and surprised at how emotionally invested I had become in Siti and Doan’s struggles. I’m grateful that films like “Assassins” exist to help spotlight individuals and truths previously silenced — depicting human stories with universal appeal and sobering repercussions for modern society. This gripping documentary, in particular, remains among the most effective I’ve ever seen, and is unquestionably worth seeking out. 

“Assassins” is a documentary directed by Ryan White. It is 104 minutes. It is available Video on Demand on multiple platforms. Alex Rating: A .

Small Axe’s ‘Red, White and Blue’ Is a Tragic, Essential Story

Small Axe’s ‘Red, White and Blue’ Is a Tragic, Essential Story

By Alex McPherson

Director Steve McQueen’s “Red, White and Blue,” the third installment of “Small Axe,” provides a heartbreaking look at racism within policing, and a thought-provoking, brilliantly acted character study.

“Red, White and Blue” depicts the true story of Leroy Logan (John Boyega), a forensic scientist living in London during the early 1980s with his West Indian family. Yearning to more directly impact the community he resides in, Leroy considers joining the local police force. After his father, Kenneth (Steve Touissant), is beaten by a couple of officers seemingly at random, Leroy’s motivation to become involved heightens, despite Kenneth’s fierce objection.

While Leroy understands the difficulties that this career choice entails, he believes, somewhat idealistically, that he can shift attitudes and mindsets from within it, helping to combat the flaws pervading policing. Although Leroy receives support from his loving wife, Gretl (Antonia Thomas), and family friend Jesse (Nadine Marshall), who works as a liaison for the Met, he soon finds himself ostracized by his own community and encounters challenges that leave him scarred and exhausted, yet ever aware that major systemic change must occur.

Featuring an absolutely incredible lead performance, and a story that viscerally showcases the difficulty of fighting a system much larger than any single person, “Red, White and Blue” is a sobering exploration of injustice and family bonds, providing some of the most powerful moments of the entire “Small Axe” series.

Similar to “Mangrove,” McQueen spends ample time establishing who Leroy is as a person and detailing his relationships with friends and family members, particularly his father. Leroy is an admirable, strong-willed individual with a warm heart and diligent work ethic, who’s determined to make a noticeable impact in the police force. He puts in his all, even outperforming a number of his peers in police training. Boyega is an endearing presence throughout the film, portraying Leroy’s skepticism and self-doubt later on with heartbreaking impact. 

Indeed, “Red, White and Blue” grows increasingly grim as it goes on, as Leroy’s own end goals seemingly slip away from him. The film frequently slows down to focus on Boyega’s reactions and Leroy’s self-reflection. As Leroy looks at himself in the mirror, for example, dressed up in uniform, we understand the inner conflict he feels, and appreciate the threats and dangers he faces in this line of work. With only one other person of color on the force with him, Leroy feels adrift and alienated practically wherever he goes, lacking figurative reinforcements to help him achieve his vision.  

Although he receives some aforementioned support from family members, Kenneth adamantly opposes Leroy’s decision to become a police officer — believing that Leroy is squandering his education to become involved in an organization pervaded by prejudice, putting his own and his family’s way of life at risk. In fact, this father-son relationship remains the film’s emotional core, providing two valid yet conflicting mentalities that provide much food for thought.

 Finding a balance between Leroy and Kenneth’s views is quite challenging — a balance between comfort and risk, between change and maintaining the status quo. McQueen depicts them both as weathered, wise individuals eventually sharing an understanding that they exist in a world where change is often slight and difficult to achieve, yet always worth fighting for, even if it means starting from scratch. As a result, “Red, White and Blue” lacks clear resolution or a sense of catharsis, ending on a note of meditative reflection that resonates with me long after the credits rolled. 

Despite the film’s intensity, however, there’s still much to relish in “Red, White and Blue,” just like the other “Small Axe” entries. McQueen’s attention to period detail is on full display, with a soundtrack featuring Al Green songs that infuses the proceedings with added emotional and symbolic weight.

The cinematography by Shabier Kirchner is outstanding, once again, containing numerous shots — especially during an atmospheric, nail-biting sequence where Leroy tracks down a criminal on his own — that have etched themselves into my psyche.

Even though I wish McQueen would have shown more of Leroy’s life story, such as his founding of the Black Police Association, the power of “Red, White and Blue” is undeniable. This is yet another fantastic entry in McQueen’s “Small Axe” series, tragic yet essential viewing. Although little has seemingly changed regarding policing between then and now, the film remains a testament to bravery, heroism, and perseverance to confront social issues that remain sadly relevant today.

“Red, White and Blue” is part of the “Small Axe” anthology, directed by Steve McQueen, that is a part of a TV mini-series on Amazon Prime. The drama’s run time is 1 hour, 20 minutes. Alex’s Rating: A

Small Axe’s ‘Lovers Rock’ an Atmospheric Triumph

Small Axe’s ‘Lovers Rock’ an Atmospheric Triumph

By Alex McPherson
Director Steve McQueen’s “Lovers Rock,” the second installment of “Small Axe,” is a masterful work of art that enriches both the mind and soul.

Taking place almost entirely within a West London house party in the 1980s, “Lovers Rock” visualizes the thrill of an escape from day-to-day life. Love is in the air, particularly for West Indian immigrants Martha (Amarah-Jae St. Aubyn) and Franklyn (Michael Ward), as the reggae music plays on. Although threats of violence lurk on the periphery, this get together brims with joy — providing Black partygoers with an energizing escape from an unforgiving world.

Despite its minimalist premise, there’s much to absorb in “Lovers Rock,” from the ingenious cinematography to the thought-provoking themes being explored. This is a film for anyone who appreciates the craft of filmmaking and the ways the medium can transport viewers to a different time and place. In fact, anyone with a heartbeat can enjoy McQueen’s film on some level.

From start to finish, we feel right there with the characters, and anticipation for the evening is palpable. McQueen makes use of all the senses to set the mood and establish the gathering as an alluring, rapturous haven. 

When the film begins, we see a crew maneuvering sound equipment, the camera capturing each click and clack of cables snapping into place. All the while, a group of women cook curry in the background, enthusiastically singing the main chorus of Janet Kay’s “Silly Games” as delicious aromas waft through the surroundings. Smell-O-Vision be damned, this gets the job done equally as well.

When the party begins, “Lovers Rock” becomes downright mesmerizing. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen for the film’s entire 68-minute runtime. Indeed, I became despondent when the end credits rolled, wishing I could keep watching for another hour. 

While reggae music blasts through the speakers, viewers feel in the middle of the action, as the camera weaves throughout the environment to capture moments of both sensual intimacy and rambunctious exuberance among the partygoers. “Lovers Rock” all but encourages viewers to get up and dance along with them, welcoming us to join in a meaningful experience.

It’s difficult to convey just how effective McQueen’s approach is, an example of pure cinematic bliss that conveys its atmosphere with precision and tactile, sensory detail. Just make sure you turn on subtitles because, like at any party, it’s difficult to sometimes understand what people are saying.  

Amid all the dancing and romance, however, lie themes that ensure “Lovers Rock” works on a deeper level beyond its immersive qualities. We get the sense that the partygoers want to hold onto these moments as long as possible — their fears and sorrows disappearing, if only for a brief time, in the party’s intoxicating vibes and ample possibilities. 

One powerful sequence in particular involves the partygoers engaging in an extended a-capella rendition of “Silly Games,” infusing the lyrics with a bittersweet, mournful weight as they repeat the chorus over and over again, long after the music stops playing.

The party represents an egalitarian space, in a sense, and McQueen meaningfully contrasts it with the harshness of the outside world, and the racism the central characters endure out in it.

The film also emphasizes that safety isn’t guaranteed within the party itself, even when one feels most comfortable. Bammy, for example (suavely portrayed by Daniel Francis-Swaby), lures some characters, and potentially viewers themselves, into a false sense of security as troubling impulses take hold down the road.

In this way, “Lovers Rock” depicts a different kind of rebellion than “Mangrove,” one against the challenges of everyday life via a gathering that reaches transcendent heights, while still containing its own dangers. McQueen’s film shows people grabbing hold of a moment and cherishing it, creating a sense of communal joy and togetherness stronger than the forces of injustice — over too soon, but life-affirming and oh, so enjoyable.

Will this film receive another A+, you may ask? Why yes, yes it will.

“Lovers Rock” is part of “Small Axe,” an anthology directed by Steve McQueen that is an Amazon Prime TV mini-series. This drama’s run-time is 1 hour, 10 min. Alex’s Rating: A+, 


Small Axe’s ‘Mangrove’ Is Stirring Call to Action

Small Axe’s ‘Mangrove’ Is Stirring Call to Action

By Alex McPherson

“Mangrove,” the first installment of director Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe” anthology series, is harrowing, inspirational, and relevant to our modern social climate.

McQueen’s film focuses on the events leading up to and including the 1970 trial of the Mangrove Nine in London. Entrepreneur and Trinidaddian immigrant Frank Crichlow (portrayed by Shaun Parkes with emotional nuance) opens a business in Notting Hill called the Mangrove, intent on providing good food and better vibes without attracting unwanted attention. The restaurant soon becomes a popular community hub, especially for West Indian individuals.

Unfortunately, the local Police Constable Pulley (Sam Spruell) harasses both Crichlow and other people of color with malevolent glee — ordering several destructive raids on the Mangrove in the process. Played with blood-boiling effectiveness by Spruell, PC Pulley firmly believes in the subordination of Black people, attacking a location where many find comfort and respite.

 Before long, Altheia Jones-Lecointe (powerfully portrayed by Letitia Wright), a founder of the British Black Panther Movement, as well as activists Barbara Beese (Rochenda Sandall) and Darcus Howe (Malachi Kirby), help persuade Crichlow to protest against police brutality at the Mangrove. Their attempted peaceful demonstration is turned violent by the police. Facing serious charges, the film then becomes an intense, nail-biting courtroom drama, as the Mangrove Nine confront injustice and police brutality in the face of monumental obstacles and risks to their personal safety. 

“Mangrove” is visceral, empathetic, and deeply moving — showcasing the fraught yet essential nature of activism within a systemically oppressive world. The film also remains both empowering and sobering in light of the continued fight for social justice in 2021 and beyond.

Indeed, the film captures a wide emotional spectrum — joy, hatred, anguish, defiance, hope, and perseverance — and depicts a story of determined individuals ever-so-slightly chipping away at the institutional racism that has dominated human society for so long and continues to do so. 

“Mangrove” contains numerous upsetting, sobering moments, but McQueen’s film doesn’t exploit its subjects for dramatic purposes. Rather, McQueen sets the scene perfectly — helping us understand what’s at stake, appreciate the challenges faced by the Mangrove Nine, and understand the comforting essence of the Mangrove itself through immersive filmmaking techniques and lived-in characterizations. 

Cinematographer Shabier Kirchner isn’t afraid to linger on images (a kitchen pan rolling back and forth along the floor after a raid; a silhouette of Altheia giving an impassioned speech with her fist raised) to lend them additional impact. Similarly, the script doesn’t brush over the characters’ contradictions and inner struggles — spotlighting Frank, Aletheia, Barbara, and Darcus for the heroes they are without rendering them one-dimensional.  

Crichlow, for example, is trying to start fresh after previous run-ins with the police at his former establishment. He is weathered and fatigued, extremely reluctant to fill the activist role he’s pressured to adopt. His mindset contrasts with Aletheia’s, who stands firm in her efforts to protest and to not surrender to larger forces. This leads to several fascinating, suspenseful interactions as the film progresses, as Crichlow weighs the benefits of giving in against the symbolic weight of the Trial for British society at large.

When the film reaches the courtroom — represented as a foreboding, larger-than-life presence — “Mangrove” doesn’t feel as manipulative or crowd-pleasing as something like Aaron Sorkin’s “The Trial of the Chicago Seven.” There’s no White Savior here, thank god, only intelligent, brave individuals confronting the very real forces of evil seeking to silence them. 

A couple of defendants — Altheia and Darcus — actually served as their own counsel in the proceedings, subverting the system to make stark condemnations of it and refusing to let others control their fate. Darcus in particular, portrayed with fervor by Kirby, gives a nuanced, impassioned speech that speaks to humanity’s long past of prejudice and the need to overcome it today. 

By its conclusion, McQueen encourages viewers to reflect on how far we’ve come, and how much we haven’t progressed, in terms of social justice. Even though efforts might seem fruitless, “Mangrove” reasserts that the fight must continue.

“Mangrove” is part of director Steve McQueen’s television mini-series, “Small Axe,” on Amazon Prime. Alex’s Rating: A+

Alex McPherson – Top Ten Films of 2020

Alex McPherson – Top Ten Films of 2020

By Alex McPherson
2020 was a good year for movies, despite everything! Here are my top 10 films of the year, with 11 honorable mentions. There’s still some movies I need to watch, of course, including “Soul” and “Palm Springs.”

  • “Red Penguins”

Director Gabe Polsky’s documentary, “Red Penguins,” focuses on an American-Russian partnership that quickly spirals out of control. Shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union, two managers of the Pittsburgh Penguins and an eccentric marketing executive try to revive Russia’s national hockey team in cooperation with the team’s general managers. The tactics they deploy are, suffice to say, quite out-there. Live bears serving beer on the ice? Huh? 

Despite garnering international attention, problems soon arise. Poor decision-making among all parties creates a situation with life-and-death consequences. Featuring energetic editing that constantly keeps viewers on their toes, and interviewees who illuminate all sides of the story, “Red Penguins” is alternately hilarious and horrifying — a cautionary tale told in a harrowing fashion. More people need to watch this film.    

  • “Never Rarely Sometimes Always”

Few films this year provide the raw emotional impact of director Eliza Hittman’s “Never Rarely Sometimes Always.” The film centers around a young woman in rural Pennsylvania named Autumn (Sidney Flanagan) who contends with an unintended pregnancy. She wants to get an abortion, but the state requires that she gets permission beforehand from her parents, with whom she has an uneasy relationship. This leads her to travel to New York City with her cousin, Skylar (Talia Ryder), to seek out the procedure. Confronting not only the faults of America’s healthcare system but also the casual injustices faced by women on a regular basis, Hittman’s film is bleak, intense, yet absolutely essential viewing, with a suitably powerful ending.   

  • “Da 5 Bloods”

Director Spike Lee’s latest effort, “Da 5 Bloods,” is an ambitious exploration of war, trauma, friendship, and family. A group of four Black Vietnam War veterans return to Vietnam to locate the remains of their fallen squad leader, Stormin Norman (soulfully played by Chadwick Boseman), and find the treasure they hid together all those years ago. What follows is a timely, genre-blurring creation that only Lee could provide. Featuring excellent performances — especially by Delroy Lindo, playing a complex, mentally tormented individual — one of year’s finest scores, and a narrative that twists and turns unpredictably, Lee’s film is mesmerizing and packed with meaning.    

  • “Another Round”

“Another Round,” the latest effort from Danish film director Thomas Vinterberg, is a compelling and darkly comedic ode to appreciating the roller coaster of life. Martin, a depressed high school history teacher, takes part in an experiment along with three other colleagues to see what happens if they maintain a blood alcohol content of 0.05, which supposedly provides enhanced creativity and social skills. Unsurprisingly, even though the experiment begins with promising results, the four gentlemen soon get in way over their heads. At some points disturbing and heartbreaking, “Another Round” also contains moments of levity — capturing these characters’ struggles and triumphs through superb acting and dialogue. And that ending scene, oh boy. I could rewatch the film’s finale on repeat for an entire day and not get bored.

  • “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm”

Borat’s second feature-length outing feels like a slap-in-the-face to Trumpers — always a positive in my book — and has real heart beneath the outrageousness on display. Borat Sagdiev (Sacha Baron Cohen), a fictional journalist from Kazakhstan, finds himself on a mission to deliver his daughter, Tutar (Maria Bakalova), to Vice President Pence, in order to strengthen the nation’s standing with the United States after the fallout from the original film. Containing all the shocking, laugh-out-loud sequences that one expects from a “Borat” film — including an infamous interaction with the leaky vampire himself, Rudy Giuliani — the sequel is also about Borat’s relationship with Tutar, and Tutar’s journey from ignorance to enlightenment about how the world really works and her own ability to make an impact. All in all, “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm” is “Very Nice!”

  • “Driveways”

A gentle, beautifully acted story, director Andrew Ahn’s “Driveways” is a perfect film to start the New Year with. Ahn shows how simple acts of kindness can have far-reaching rippling effects, and how friendships can form between people with starkly different life experiences. The heart of the film lies in the friendship between eight-year-old Cody (Lucas Jaye) and a widowed war veteran named Del, played by the late Brian Dennehy, who lives next door. Although the film’s plot remains predictable, Ahn’s film truly shines through its refreshingly low-key, nuanced approach to the material — cementing itself as one of 2020’s absolute gems. We can all learn something from “Driveways.”

  • “Sound of Metal”

Director Darius Marder’s “Sound of Metal” is a hard-hitting character study that makes use of cinema’s immersive potential. When a punk-metal drummer named Ruben (Riz Ahmed) starts to lose his hearing, his life is upended. He must reckon with his frustration, heartbreak, and feelings of hopelessness for his future. Though at times hard to watch, “Sound of Metal” is oh so moving, depicting Ruben’s journey in an uncompromising fashion. The film’s powerhouse performances and realistic narrative, combined with sound design that simulates the effects of Ruben’s hearing loss, creates a film whose visceral qualities are matched by thought-provoking, deeply human themes. 

  • “First Cow”

Set in 1820s Oregon, “First Cow” follows two travelers — a soft-spoken, introspective chef named Otis “Cookie” Figowitz (John Magaro) and King Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant on the run from vengeful Russians — as they form a friendship and attempt to make a living in unforgiving conditions. Their business involves stealing milk from the only cow in the region, owned by the repugnant Chief Factor (Toby Jones), and baking popular, supremely delicious biscuits. Director Kelly Reichardt builds a quietly suspenseful tale exploring the American Dream, with three-dimensional characters, stunning cinematography, and an impeccable atmosphere that transports viewers to the time period. The film’s slower, more deliberate pace might turn off impatient viewers, but for everyone else, “First Cow” is first-rate. 

  • “Bacurau”

Impossible to pin down to a single genre, “Bacurau” is one of 2020’s most brutally satisfying films. Set in a fictional Brazillian village of the same name, the film depicts a tight-knit community working together to combat a threat that seeks to literally wipe them off the map. This crazy film works on multiple levels — as an allegory for struggles within contemporary Brazil, and as an emotional roller coaster with sympathetic heroes, sadistic villains, a cathartic conclusion, and revolutionary ideals. I’ve watched “Bacurau” four times and can’t wait to rewatch it again. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart, but any and all cinephiles should appreciate the film’s striking vision.

  • “Small Axe Anthology”

Yes, I realize that some people might classify director Steve McQueen’s “Small Axe Anthology” as television; however, I don’t care. This collection of five films is brilliant from start to finish, depicting the experiences of some West Indian immigrants in London during the 1960s and 1970s — including the 1971 trial of the Mangrove Nine and inequality within the schooling system. The films are unflinching, empathetic, and expertly crafted — depicting their subjects without reducing or simplifying their struggles for pure entertainment value. “Small Axe” encourages viewers to reflect on how far we’ve come, how much has worsened or stayed the same, and the heights we could achieve in terms of racial equality. Full of moments of joy, grief, struggle, and human connection, these films are achingly resonant, and they shouldn’t be missed.   

Honorable Mentions: “12 Hour Shift,” “American Utopia,” “Bad Education,” “Beasts Clawing at Straws,” “Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets,” “Dick Johnson is Dead,” “I’m Thinking of Ending Things,” “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” “My Dinner with Werner,” “The-Forty-Year-Old Version,” “The Vast of Night” 

‘Driveways’ is a Wise, Beautiful Film

‘Driveways’ is a Wise, Beautiful Film

By Alex McPherson
Like a Christmas miracle, director Andrew Ahn’s new film, “Driveways,” restored my faith in humanity.

Cody (Lucas Jaye) is a sensitive boy struggling to fit in with his peers. He helps his loving yet overwhelmed mother, Kathy (Hong Chau), clean out his late aunt’s house in a rural New York town to prepare it for sale. Cody meets Del (the late Brian Dennehy), a widowed war veteran living next door, and eventually forms a friendship with him that profoundly impacts both their lives and the lives of those around them for the better.

Sure, the plot sounds exceedingly saccharine, and although “Driveways” follows predictable beats, Ahn’s humanistic approach to the material sets it apart. Viewers shouldn’t expect anything like the bombastic screamfest of “Hillbilly Elegy,” thank goodness, but rather a film that feels like a bittersweet pat on the back. 

With a gentle touch that prizes emotional subtlety over heavy-handedness, “Driveways” zeroes in on a few characters who all feel adrift and disoriented in their lives. Cody is lonely and doesn’t seem to embrace the joys of childhood, in need of a friend.

Kathy is processing the death of her sister — who she became distanced from in adulthood — and the responsibilities of caring for Cody as a single, Asian American parent, while also working to become a nurse.

Del is coming to grips with his remaining years and the mistakes made throughout his life, waiting for a figurative sunset to close out his final chapter. 

The stage is set for a depressing tale, but “Driveways” isn’t a depressing film — showing these characters’ potential for growth despite their struggles, as well as the meaningful impacts that acts of goodwill can have on their lives, or, in fact, anyone’s life.

The film emphasizes smaller, quieter moments of human connection that feel earned and genuine, with an emotional core that sneaks up on viewers and encourages them to go out into the real world and be compassionate to others. 

Much of the power of “Driveways” comes from Ahn’s devotion to letting us sit with the characters and watch them interact in a way that doesn’t feel traditionally “dramatic.”

Indeed, the film progresses in a relatively low-key fashion, with sympathetic characters whose struggles feel relatable, and whose arcs feel earned and thoughtful. Larger topics linger in the periphery— among them prejudice, economic inequality, and the stress of single parenting  — but “Driveways” isn’t really concerned with hard-hitting social commentary.

What Ahn’s film spotlights, on the other hand, is how seemingly mundane acts of kindness and reaching out can bring people together, even those with vastly different life experiences.

The actors portraying the film’s small cast are exceptional, helping to make the characters feel like real human beings. Jaye gives an absolutely incredible performance, conveying an emotional range and nuance that would be impressive for an actor of any age.

Chau is also compelling to watch, illustrating her character’s resilience in an emotionally draining situation. The true standout performance of “Driveways,” though, is by Brian Dennehy. Knowing that this performance was among his last gives every scene he’s in an added melancholic weight, especially his final monologue — a mournful, beautiful reflection on life and the importance of cherishing those close to us.

I don’t have a single flaw to nit-pick. “Driveways” is a near-perfect film, one whose simplistic premise and small-scale storytelling belies an emotional wisdom that the world needs right now. Do yourself a favor and go watch it.

“Driveways” is a drama directed by Andrew Ahn, starring Brian Dennehy, Hong Chau, Lucas Jaye and Christine Ebersole. It is 83 minutes long and is available on Showtime and Video on Demand. Alex’s Grade: A+

’18 to Party’ Has Appealing Characters But Fumbles with Their Stories

’18 to Party’ Has Appealing Characters But Fumbles with Their Stories

By Alex McPherson
Jeff Roda’s directorial debut, “18 to Party,” is a competent coming-of-age drama that needs more time to mature.

The year is 1984 in upstate New York. A squad of angsty eighth graders, many of whom have troubled home lives, wait outside a nightclub, hoping to attend a party later in the evening. The friends discuss art, politics, UFOs, school drama, and happenings around town in the nightclub’s backlot. As the party draws nearer, their interactions force them to confront their changing selves within a world that refuses to slow down for them.

Taking place in just a couple of locations, “18 to Party” presents appealing characters, but doesn’t give them all satisfying arcs, only breaching the surface of the topics it brings up. As a result, Roda’s film definitely has heart, but ends up feeling like the pilot installment of a larger, more impactful story.

In a stripped-back fashion, Roda allows viewers to connect with these characters simply by watching them hang out over the course of an afternoon. They have distinctive personalities — from the rebellious, Reagan-hating Kira (Ivy Miller) to the anxious, uptight Shel (Tanner Flood), who becomes the film’s de facto protagonist as the story progresses. It’s certainly entertaining watching them banter and engage in vicious trash-talking, with dialogue that feels authentic to kids of their age. 

This minimalist style, however, prevents me from becoming fully immersed — failing to make the most of the medium’s potential. Nevertheless, I admire Roda’s decision to show these characters in a naturalistic way, helping to render them as actual human beings. The film’s attention to period detail in costuming and music choices is also worth noting, adequately helping to set the scene.

While the film’s conversational approach lends itself to comedic moments, “18 to Party” attempts to provide more than just laughs. The children discuss difficult, sometimes harrowing topics — including reckoning with the aftermath of several suicides in their town, as well as their own life challenges, often stemming from absentee parents. Indeed, the film frequently underlines their youthful innocence as they struggle to understand what it all means.

For example, when Lanky (James Freedson-Jackson), a classmate enrolled in a support group after his brother’s death, shows up, the group doesn’t know how to react — judging him without appreciating the circumstances that helped form his fractured mental state. 

The actors, across the board, effectively convey youthful energy and vulnerability. They have fantastic chemistry with one another, giving “18 to Party” a documentary-esque feel at times. The standout is Freedson-Jackson, who gives a striking performance as a peer struggling to reconnect with his friends after a traumatic experience.

Although I appreciate what Roda’s going for, there needs to be more resolution to the conflicts being brought up. All the elements of a classic are there, but “18 to Party” can’t stick the landing —  leaving way too many subplots unresolved and failing to memorably articulate its themes.

Most of my problems stem from an overabundance of characters. Among the central group, consisting of seven individuals, only a couple receive any meaningful development by the conclusion. We watch some disagreements escalate into all-out fights, but don’t see the aftermath and what, if anything, the kids learn from them.

In fact, Shel is the only person that undergoes any true changes. His earnest, relatable journey towards self-acceptance and embracing life’s joys is engaging enough to watch, but doesn’t offer viewers much they haven’t likely seen before.

All that being said, “18 to Party” still has enough charm and poignancy to recommend, if only tentatively. The journey is far more compelling than the destination.

“18 to Party” (2019) is a comedy-drama written and directed by Jeff Roda and starring James Freedson-Jackson, Tanner Flood and Ivy Miller. Its runtime is 1 hr. 20 min. Alex’s Grade: B- The film is available video on demand.

‘Red Penguins’: Skating on Thin, Life-Threatening Ice in Russia

‘Red Penguins’: Skating on Thin, Life-Threatening Ice in Russia

By Alex McPherson

Director Gabe Polsky’s new documentary, “Red Penguins,” is a memorable tale of cross-cultural friendship, misunderstanding, greed, betrayal, societal unrest, and good, old-fashioned hockey.

Soon after the fall of the Soviet Union, two owners of the Pittsburgh Penguins and an idiosyncratic marketing executive — Tom Ruta, Howard Baldwin, and Steven Warshaw, respectively — helped manage Russia’s national hockey team, which was fading into obscurity. Working with the general managers Valery Gushin and Victor Tikhonov, they attempted to revive the team and its brand — taking advantage of Russia’s new market and attempting to set an example for the rest of the world. 

In order to attract the attention of the Russian populace, free alcohol was provided (served by live bears at one point, resulting in a player losing half a finger), strippers were hired to perform on the ice rink, and everything was generally ratcheted up a notch, a true spectacle to behold.

Thanks to this approach, the team, eventually referred to as the Red Penguins, became internationally popular, even catching the eye of Michael Eisner, then-Chairman of the Walt Disney Company. Set against the backdrop of the 1993 Russian Constitutional Crisis, however, violent tensions ran high. Ego, greed, opportunism, and ignorance among all parties also infected this Russian-American partnership, but rendered it ripe for cinematic portrayal.

And good grief, what a wild ride it was, especially when told through Polsky’s lens. Less about hockey than about Post-Soviet Russia more broadly, “Red Penguins” works on multiple levels — as an emotional roller coaster swerving between hilarity and dead seriousness, as a Russian history lesson, and as a testament to the importance of effective intercultural communication.

Polsky takes a brisk, fast-paced approach to the material, finding a near-perfect balance between humor and horror. The story itself, told by the people, American and Russian alike, who lived it, is undeniably compelling, featuring several outlandish moments that I won’t dare spoil here. Even so, “Red Penguins” spends equally as much time providing context, describing a Post-Soviet Russia permeated with social unrest. With rising crime rates, economic struggles, and the ever-powerful influence of the mafia among authority figures, the atmosphere is tense. One montage, for example, juxtaposes the rambunctious fun of the hockey games with graphic footage of police clashes outdoors in the streets, to chilling effect.

Indeed, the film’s humorous, happy-go-lucky tone early on quickly gives way to dread about what’s to come later. Nationalism and pure, unadulterated foolishness rule the day, creating a nervous atmosphere throughout that pervades even the film’s most absurd moments. This feeling, in a sense, emulates how the initial mindsets of Warshaw and company were replaced with fear when they realized the situation they put themselves in. 

Case in point, Warshaw, the film’s most endearing presence, is a cocky individual willing to go to cartoonish lengths to ensure the team’s success — regardless of his personal safety or Russian cultural norms. This creates obvious problems down the road with the authority figures he claims to have befriended. 

The consequences are potentially life and death, and Polsky adds another fearful layer by showing the interviewee’s differing interpretations of the events at hand and letting them reveal their true selves to the camera. When Valery Gushin, also interviewed for the film, laughs heartily about “teaching [Warshaw] a lesson,” a chill ran down my spine.

By its conclusion, “Red Penguins,” is ultimately a sobering, disturbing story of societal change and dangerous misunderstandings. This film is, at its essence, an ode to understanding the Other, told via a stranger-than-fiction story that deserves to be known.

“Red Penguins,” a 2019 documentary written and directed by Gabe Polsky, is rated PG-13 for violence/bloody images, sexual material/nudity, some strong language and a drug reference/ Runtime is 80 minutes. The film was released Aug.4 in U.S. and available video on demand. Alex’s Grade: A.

‘Light Years’ Silly, Sentimental Romp on Drugs, Love and Friendship

‘Light Years’ Silly, Sentimental Romp on Drugs, Love and Friendship

By Alex McPherson
Colin Thompson’s coming-of-age tale, “Light Years,” is an enjoyable romp down memory lane that can’t quite reach the emotional heights it aspires to.

The film centers on Kevin (Thompson) a thirty-something man taking magic mushrooms and embarking on a vision quest to visit Briggs (Russell Posner), his deceased friend who’s based on someone Thompson knew in real life.

Kevin is transported back to a rambunctious night from his high school years — featuring an uncomfortable house party, family drama, and, you guessed it, a fair amount of ‘shrooms. In a psychedelic twist, Young Kevin (Christopher Gray) becomes Adult Kevin, and nearly everyone in his drug-induced flashback (with the exception of Briggs and Kevin’s sister, Em (Makenzie Leigh)) is played by Thompson himself. Whoa, dude, far out! 

While “Light Years” fumbles a balance between silliness and heartfelt sentimentality, the film satisfies as light entertainment. There’s definitely some fun to be had in watching these characters engage in juvenile shenanigans, especially when so many of them are played by the same actor.

Indeed, Thompson has ample opportunity to flex his acting chops as he embodies several different characters, most of whom have their own distinctive personality. Although the novelty eventually wears off, his efforts are commendable. This stylistic choice even holds metaphorical weight, with Briggs being one of the only characters not played by Thompson. 

Light Years also simulates the effects of ‘shrooms through several cinematic techniques, including eye-popping stop-motion animation and time manipulation. While I’ve never taken ‘shrooms, the film certainly succeeds in visualizing the zonked-out head spaces of the central characters.

The humor itself is hit or miss, however, and assumes that viewers find this sort of drug use humorous. Lacking nuance, it grows tiresome by the end of the film’s 81-minute runtime — too often reverting to immaturity over actual intelligence.

Luckily, Light Years has more on its mind than depicting characters out-of-their-mind. In the vein of films like Superbad and Booksmart, Thompson’s film ultimately revolves around Kevin and Briggs’ friendship, and the life lessons they learn from each other.

They depend on one another to stay afloat and maintain a positive outlook on life. At the time of the flashback, Kevin is having a quarter-life crisis, unsure of his future and reeling emotionally from his parents’ divorce. He finds solace in hanging out with friends — especially Briggs, whose spastic personality ensures there’s rarely a dull moment, particularly when under the influence. Thompson and Posner have great chemistry, and their back-and-forth dialogue at times reminds me of Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon in The Trip, as they indulge in over-the-top impressions and play off each other with chuckle-worthy results.

Unfortunately, Kevin and Briggs need more depth to add weight to the tragedy down the road. Thompson’s small-scale approach works to the story’s detriment as a result, spending too much time with side characters lacking development and oversimplifying potentially impactful subject matter in favor of providing comedy. Kevin’s arc would have benefited from expanding the timeline to show how the lessons learned in his vision quest impact his present-day life. Additionally, the film neglects to make a clear, meaningful statement on addiction and drug use, coming to ambiguous conclusions. Yes, a more dramatic approach would have mellowed the film’s laid back atmosphere, but as a memorial to a lost friend, it feels odd to omit these details in favor of accessible entertainment value. 

At the end of the day, Light Years is a watchable stoner comedy that features some clever cinematic tricks and an endearing central duo, but fails to truly stand out from the pack.

“Light Years” (2019), written and directed by Colin Thompson, is adventure with a TV-14 designation. It runs 1 hr. 21 minutes and is available video on demand on Nov. 17. Alex’s Grade: B-