‘Saturday Night’ Comedy a Half-Baked Trip Down Memory Lane

‘Saturday Night’ Comedy a Half-Baked Trip Down Memory Lane

By Alex McPherson

Frenetic, scattershot, and thoroughly self-absorbed, director Jason Reitman’s “Saturday Night” might satisfy those nostalgic for the early days of “SNL,” but fails to make a name for itself on its own merits.

Presenting itself as a fictionalized version of the stressful 90 minutes leading up to the original “Saturday Night Live” (originally called “Saturday Night”) broadcast in October 1975 at Studio 8H, Reitman’s film revolves around Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), the show’s executive producer and ringleader. Michaels remains insistent on the show’s potential while having little idea as to what it actually is.

Co-creator Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman) is increasingly worried about how things will pan out, trying to reason with the ever-resistant Michaels as the cramped, claustrophobic halls of Studio 8H buzz with both excitement and growing fears of potentially spectacular failure. There’s also a llama, for some reason.

All the while, a group of unruly, up-and-coming comedians — including the arrogant yet charismatic Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation), John Belushi (Matt Wood), plus several talented women such as Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), and Jane Curtin (Kim Matula) that the film mostly treats as afterthoughts — prepare to go on-air, confronting their own mini-crises and doubts as the clock ticks, ticks, ticks toward showtime, and the history books.

Tempers run hot (the pretentious Belushi and Chase butt heads, and Belushi hasn’t even signed his contract yet), people are stoned out of their minds, lights are falling on-stage, the sound system’s busted, head writer Michael O’Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) is spewing acerbic barbs at anyone and everyone questioning his scripts, and rival late-night host Milton Berle (J.K. Simmons, typically strong) is, quite literally, waving his dong around.

Gabrielle LaBelle, Kaia Gerber and Cory Michael Smith.

NBC executive Dave Tebet (Willem Dafoe) is observing the whole production from afar, egging on Lorne with smug anticipation of his passion project’s downfall, as the whole endeavor is a pawn in NBC’s contract dispute with Johnny Carson.

Suffice to say, the stakes are high, at least in the context of these characters, who don’t yet know that SNL will wildly succeed and become a cultural institution. Watching as a casual fan of the iconic program, though, “Saturday Night” is curiously devoid of surprise, or insight, or, even, laughs. There’s way too much smugness in Reitman’s retelling of this “revolution in comedy.” The film appeals to mainstream cinema’s obsession with callbacks at the expense of telling a story worth investing in.

Still, despite its emptiness, “Saturday Night” features dynamic performances from an ensemble doing an at-times-scarily convincing job at portraying their real-life counterparts. LaBelle brings a nervous, stubborn energy that’s simultaneously inspiring and pathetic, barely tamping down Michaels’ anxiety over his passion project’s success (or downfall, but we already know it’s going to be a success).

Hoffman is typically excellent as Ebersol, channeling his father’s capacity for emotional release during a pivotal scene in the latter half of the film.

Cory Michael Smith is an obvious standout as Chase, conveying the man’s arrogance and insecurity (and hilarity) in a way that demands attention, whether we like it or not. O’Brien makes a mark with his brief screen time as Aykroyd. Morris brings some much-needed pathos as his character questions his purpose and reason for being there as the only Black cast member. Wood does what he can with Belushi, with Reitman and co writer Gil Kenan highlighting his drug use and fickleness (mostly as a punchline) — making Belushi’s will-he-won’t-he arc both semi-poignant and weirdly uncomfortable, given Belushi’s later tragedy.

Gabriel LaBelle as Lorne Michaels.

The rest of the cast — including the ever-reliable Rachel Sennott as Michaels’ then-wife, Rosie Shuster, Jon Batiste in a small-yet-memorable appearance as Billy Preston, and seemingly a million other recognizable faces playing various recognizable faces, with Nicholas Braun doing double duty as punchline-ready interpretations of Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson — are perfectly adequate, but not exactly given much to sink their teeth into narratively with their limited screen time.

Indeed, “Saturday Night” ultimately reveals itself to be little more than a carnival ride of memories and irritating dialogue that — when it’s not replicating famous jokes and sketches — takes advantage of 20/20 hindsight to constantly pat itself on the back.

Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan’s script takes an Aaron-Sorkin-esque approach in its witticisms, fast pace, and at-times blatant sentimentality as it literally clicks down the moments until showtime, incorporating as many famous gags as possible that loyal viewers are expected to get excited about. Some barbs and vignettes amid the chaos are amusing, and “Saturday Night” is never less than watchable, if usually superficial.

Cory Michael Smith as Chevy Chase.

Eric Steelberg’s textured, 16mm cinematography weaves throughout the studio’s sweaty interiors, faithfully recreated with attention to period detail in sets and costuming, making plentiful use of long takes and whip-pans.

The film careens from one easter egg to another — complete with its own pseudo laugh track of characters cracking up; the film desperately begs us to laugh along with them. Batiste’s percussion-laden score, combined with Nathan Orloff and Shane Reid’s editing, helps create a fittingly frantic, albeit artificial, sense of paranoia that highlights the film’s construction as an allegedly off-the-rails roller coaster that’s never truly allowed to chart its own path.

It’s fine: There’s just not much there beyond the film playing to viewers’ nostalgia. And maybe that’s acceptable for those who’d like to coast on the associated dopamine rush. Myself, however, not so much. “Saturday Night” is never bad (far from it), but it never ascends beyond average — a self-congratulatory tribute to the groundbreaking show in a puzzlingly vanilla framework.

“Saturday Night” is a 2024 comedy based on a true story, directed by Jason Reitman, and starring Gabriel LaBelle, Cooper Hoffman, Willem Dafoe, Corey Michael Smith, Lamorne Morris, Rachel Sennott, Matt Wood, Dylan O’Brien, Ella Hunt, Kim Matula, Emily Fairn, Nicholas Braun, Jon Batiste, Tommy Dewey and JK Simmons. It is rated R for language throughout, sexual references, some drug use and brief graphic nudity and the run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opened in theaters Oct. 11. Alex’s Grade: C

Lively ‘Saturday Night’ Re-creates a TV Landmark’s First Broadcast with Outstanding Ensemble Cast

Lively ‘Saturday Night’ Re-creates a TV Landmark’s First Broadcast with Outstanding Ensemble Cast

By Lynn Venhaus

The unpredictable Not Ready for Prime Time Players would go on to become household names. A shaggy group of irreverent writers would ignite a counterculture revolution with their parodies of contemporary culture and sharp political satire. And a young and scrappy Canadian would lead the inspired chaos of a late-night live sketch comedy show into showbiz history when “Saturday Night” premiered on Oct. 11, 1975.

With “Saturday Night Live” about to celebrate 50 years on television, it’s the right time to revisit the show’s frenetic start in NBC’s Studio 8H in Rockefeller Plaza. Writer-director Jason Reitman’s dramatic comedy finds the beating heart in this runaway train ride depicted in the 90 minutes leading up to the inaugural broadcast.

Along with co-writer Gil Kenan, their “based on a true story” captures the frenetic pace and the backstage lunacy that forever changed late-night comedy. It was a “big bang” that redefined the television landscape, and while a mini-series could do the origin story justice, this focused narrative framework succeeds in pulling back the curtain.

In a kinetic snapshot of what happened that fateful wild and crazy night, Gabriel LaBelle anchors the best ensemble cast of the year as the confident producer Lorne Michaels.

LaBelle, who was impressive as young Steven Spielberg in “The Fabelmans” two years ago, plays the driven big dreamer who believes in his instincts and the largely unknown cast’s talents. He’s the calm circus ringleader in the eye of the storm amidst the gusty winds threatening to blow it all down.

Gabriel LaBelle, center, as Lorne Michaels

From the start, Michaels has produced all but five years of the show, leaving in 1980 when Jane Curtin, Garrett Morris, Laraine Newman and Gilda Radner were the last original cast members to depart, and returning for the 1985-86 season.

He started out as a comedy writer whose credits included “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” and now oversees a vast empire of last-night television and feature films. Michaels’ first wife, Rosie Shuster, is portrayed by a sharp Rachel Sennott as an integral force, both as a writer and someone putting fires out.

As the clock counts down to the live launch, there isn’t time for in-depth character portrayals; instead, we get snippets of familiar personality traits from those emerging stars Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), Jane Curtin (Kim Matula) and Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation), with Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) and John Belushi (Matt Wood)’s well-documented egos and clashes getting more screen time.

The seven actors quickly convey their quirks and foreshadow the stars they would become. Standouts here include O’Brien as a minutiae devotee and big flirt Aykroyd, Emmy-winning Morris as the underused Morris — a multi-hyphenate perplexed at his inclusion, and Smith as quick-witted, arrogant and self-absorbed Chase, the show’s first break-out movie star.

The women, understandably, are trying to find their place in the boys’ club, which is representative of those early years.

The nostalgia factor is big here for longtime fans of the show, especially those of us who watched the first episode in real time (My college roommates and I tuned in, presumably because we were big George Carlin fans, for we did not recognize the others, except for Billy Preston because he played with The Beatles). A film by Albert Brooks? Jim Henson and his Muppets?

Now, fans of the National Lampoon Radio Hour (1973 – 1974) were familiar with cast members Chevy, Belushi and Gilda. Its creator, Michael O’Donoghue, a jaded, cynical anarchist, went on to be SNL’s cutting-edge head writer for three years. His tussles with the network censors’ red pens must have been headache-inducing.

Reitman’s condensed depiction of legendary writers Al Franken, Tom Davis, Alan Zweibel, and Herb Sargent (Tracy Letts!) is noteworthy. While not all sketch development is accurate timeline-wise, the inclusion of Aykroyd’s Julia Child parody where she gushes blood from a cut artery during a taping of “The French Chef” is a good one to mention – and so is the construction workers’ gender reversal cat calls with Aykroyd as the objectified — even though both were on later shows.

Reitman’s reverence for all things SNL is admirable – and understandable, for it continues to be a force in the cultural zeitgeist. His father, Ivan, directed Aykroyd and Bill Murray in 1984’s biggest box-office hit “Ghostbusters” and other movies featuring alumni.

Jason Reitman’s previous comedies “Juno” and “Up in the Air” showed much potential, so it’s nice to see him navigate this incredible moment in time and do so with a clear-cut vision and savvy casting choices.

Fellow nepo baby (in a good way) Cooper Hoffman, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s son, is a perfect foil as ambitious Dick Ebersol, rocking the polyester suits as the late-night director of programming. (He’d later go on to produce SNL after Michaels’ left.)

Portraying the old guard is Willem Dafoe as humorless network vice president of talent relations Bob Tebet, who’d be happy to run another Johnny Carson “Tonight Show” re-run instead.

Nicholas Braun as Andy Kaufman

In small but essential roles, musical wunderkind Jon Batiste plays musical guest Billy Preston and Nicholas Braun (Emmy-nominated Cousin Greg on “Succession”) astutely characterizes up-and-coming Andy Kaufman’s brilliant schtick and as a naïve but talented puppeteer Jim Henson, clearly ahead of his time.

Matthew Rhys, Emmy winner for “The Americans,” is a snarling George Carlin who does not want to play nice with others in sketches.JK Simmons swoops in to steal his scenes as cantankerous old-guard comic Milton Berle, representing a different generational style.

Batiste also composed the propulsive original music score, which adds to the fast-paced freewheeling vibe. Reitman’s go-to cinematographer Eric Steelberg offers insight into the adrenaline rush while Jess Gonchor’s production design overstuffs Studio 8H plausibly.

An engaging whirlwind representing a collaborative creative process that sparked a comedic revolution, “Saturday Night” takes us back to an extraordinary leap of faith that resonates today. No need to give us a roadmap of the past half-century because we know the rest of its remarkable history.

Lamorne Morris as Garrett Morris.

Notes: To learn more, “Live from New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests,” first published in 2002, is a definitive oral history by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales.

Two documentaries on the short, brilliant and troubled lives of two of the show’s biggest stars, “Belushi” (2020) and “Love, Gilda” (2018) are available to watch on subscription streaming services, and for digital rental.

“Saturday Night” is a 2024 comedy based on a true story, directed by Jason Reitman, and starring Gabriel LaBelle, Cooper Hoffman, Willem Dafoe, Cory Michael Smith, Lamorne Morris, Rachel Sennott, Matt Wood, Dylan O’Brien, Ella Hunt, Kim Matula, Emily Fairn, Nicholas Braun, Jon Batiste, Tommy Dewey and JK Simmons. It is rated R for language throughout, sexual references, some drug use and brief graphic nudity and the run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opened in theaters Oct. 11. Lynn’s Grade: A-.

‘Beetlejuice Beetlejuice’ Is a Wild Nostalgic Trip Back to the Afterlife

‘Beetlejuice Beetlejuice’ Is a Wild Nostalgic Trip Back to the Afterlife

By Alex McPherson

Messy and overstuffed, but bursting with personality, director Tim Burton’s “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” is a worthy follow-up to the 1988 original that provides another excellent showcase for Michael Keaton’s comedic talents.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” takes place 36 years after the events of the first film. It continues the story of Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder), last seen dancing to Harry Belafonte with a ghostly football team. She has become a successful television host and essentially cashed in on her supernatural abilities to see ghosts, making a living off others’ trauma.

But she’s haunted by visions of “Beetle Breakfast” himself (Keaton), popping pills to keep them at bay. She’s accompanied by her TV show producer and romantic partner Rory (Justin Theroux), who barely conceals his toxicity behind platitudes and emotional manipulation, valuing money and external validation above all else.

Lydia is abruptly summoned to New York City by her stepmother, Delia (Catherine O’Hara), a vain yet lovable diva having now become a performance artist in the Big Apple. She informs Lydia that her father, Charles (Jeffrey Jones), has unceremoniously died en route to a bird-watching trip.

Lydia, Delia, and Rory decide to have Charles buried at the Maitland family house in Winter River, Connecticut (the Maitlands are abruptly written out of this story), picking up Lydia’s estranged daughter Astrid (Jenna Ortega) from boarding school along the way. Astrid is highly resentful of her mother, who cannot see the ghost of her deceased father, and immerses herself in climate activism to rebel against her family’s opportunistic ways.

In the Afterlife, the titular Beetlejuice, as unhinged as ever, has opened a call center for his “bio-exorcism” gig. He’s staffed his office with ghouls with shrunken heads and uses one poor lad, Bob, as his personal assistant. Beetlejuice seems pretty content with all that power, but his past has other plans.

An unlucky janitor (played by Danny DeVito) ends up accidentally unleashing Beetlejuice’s ex lover, Delores (Monica Belluci), upon the world — a literal soul-sucking badass who physically staples herself back together — and she’s out for revenge. Beetlejuice needs to find a way out of the Afterlife. 

Young love, a marriage proposal, betrayal, rebellion, alternative waiting room visits, and wacky, charmingly grotesque antics ensue as Beetlejuice enters the Deetz’s lives once again. 

Let’s just say, there is a lot going on in “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” too much for any single plot strand to get the attention it really deserves. But Burton’s sequel is more than the sum of its parts. Without sanding down the caustic wit of the original or sacrificing its visual pizazz, “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” is an immensely fun watch, albeit an experience that works best if viewed purely as an excuse to get the gang back together to riff on old times.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” largely captures the feel of Burton’s classic, from the gothic-inspired, lived-in set design (given a slightly too crisp digital sheen this time around), to Danny Elfman’s score, to its blunt satire of bureaucracy and greed, to the zany performances and a proud refusal to adapt to “modern” sensibilities. It’s just a fun time at the movies–-scattershot in its storytelling but knowingly so, retaining a distinctive style that only Burton’s mind can conjure. 

The entire ensemble of returning players and new faces seems to be having a ball on screen. Keaton is the obvious standout, slipping back into the iconic role with ease. Beetlejuice’s signature gross-out, form-breaking, shape-shifting antics are rendered as vividly as ever without relying on CGI. 

He’s alternately funny, likable, and squirm-inducing as the flamboyant trickster with surprises up his sleeve and havoc on his mind — manipulating anyone and everyone to his advantage. Keaton’s commitment to the bit makes one wish that he had even more screen time; however; the film has too much ground to cover to make him center-stage consistently.

Keaton steals his scenes all the same, delivering some genuinely shocking moments with sincerity, and taking part in some memorable set-pieces in the finale that really go for it. On his performance alone, the film soars.

Ryder excels yet again as Lydia, uptight and deflated but willing to fight for her family and what’s right. O’Hara, as before, is hilarious, particularly regarding the creation of artwork where she “deals with grief” in outlandish fashion. Ortega fits the role of the moody Astrid well, but stays within the bounds of her previous efforts in shows like “Wednesday.”

Arthur Conti as Jeremy, a neighborhood boy who sparks a romance with Astrid, is charming though mysterious. Theroux is enjoyably annoying, while Bellucci is threatening but disappointingly underused. (Delores is one of the most egregious sacrifices to the film’s narrative restlessness.)

Willem Dafoe, as movie-star-turned-Afterlife-detective Wolf Jackson tracking Delores’s reign of terror, is amusing, with some excellent makeup, but the screenplay ultimately doesn’t do much with him.

Indeed, much of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” doesn’t dig beneath the surface. And, to be fair, it didn’t need to. It’s as if Burton wants us to relinquish deeper thought and go along for the ride — playing into nostalgia while introducing new characters and environments into the “Beetlejuice” universe. 

The closer one looks at any particular thread of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” the less it holds up, and the few instances where Burton aims for poignancy don’t quite land effectively, as do early set-up scenes in the real world that take a while to kick into gear. Fortunately, much of “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” operates at too fast a clip to dwell on these shortcomings.

Many of the characters struggle with being authentic, both to themselves and others, and this truthfulness (or lack thereof) often determines their fates. “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” on the other hand, knows exactly what it is and largely embraces its instincts, remaining a wholly satisfying way to kick off the spooky season. It’s the rare legacy sequel that really delivers.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” is a 2024 horror-comedy directed by Tim Burton and starring Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Jenna Ortega, Catherine O’Hara, Monica Bellucci, Justin Theroux and Willem Dafoe. It is rated PG-13 for violent content, macabre and bloody images, strong language, some suggestive material and brief drug use and the run time is 1 hour, 45 minutes. It started in theatres Sept. 6. Alex’s Grade: B+.

Madcap Michael Keaton Provides the Zest in a Goofier and Gorier Sequel ‘Beetlejuice Beetlejuice’

Madcap Michael Keaton Provides the Zest in a Goofier and Gorier Sequel ‘Beetlejuice Beetlejuice’

By Lynn Venhaus
It’s silly fun but hampered by uneven storytelling, nevertheless “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” dips heavily into nostalgia and director Tim Burton’s irrepressible comic-horror sensibilities.

Thirty-six years after Burton’s distinctive original hybrid, he’s gotten the band back together — with a couple exceptions — for a madcap romp that’s gorier, goofier and goes off on nonsensical tangents.

After an unexpected family tragedy, three generations of the Deetz family return home to Winter River after an unexpected family tragedy. Lydia discovers she’s still haunted by Beetlejuice, and her life is turned upside down when her rebellious teenage daughter, Astrid (Jenny Ortega), discovers the Maitlands’ model of the town in the attic, accidentally opening the portal to the Afterlife. It’s only a matter of time until someone says Beetlejuice’s name three times, unleashing the mischievous demon once more.

While it is a real treat to see 73-year-old Michael Keaton re-inhabit the afterlife’s unpredictable bio-exorcist Betelgeuse with gleefully ghoulish visuals, that grating voice and his crackerjack comic timing, there are too many plot threads that distract from a couple crucial weddings that should be the focus.

To reconnect to the core Deetz family, Lydia is now a paranormal specialist with a TV series called “Ghost House.” Her husband died, and Ortega plays her hostile, angsty teenage daughter with appropriate disgust.

They return to the picturesque Connecticut town for Lydia’s father’s funeral. Charlie was chomped by a shark after one of his bird-watching expeditions when his plane crashed into the ocean.

Because Jeffrey Jones is unavailable (look it up), Burton has used an animated Claymation sequence to deal with his character’s demise.

Catherine O’Hara is back in all her flamboyant fiery red-haired glory as the vain artist Stepmom Delia. She can’t hide her disdain for Lydia’s opportunist boyfriend Rory (Justin Theroux), her show producer that speaks in psychobabble and spells trouble.

There’s also a new romance for anti-social Astrid — Jeremy (Arthur Conti), who has a complicated backstory and his motives aren’t clear at first, but wind up crystal clear down. And Beetlejuice’s sinister ex-wife Delores returns. As played by Monica Bellucci, she is a re-animated evil mistress that looks like a cross between Morticia Addams and Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. She is wreaking gruesome havoc like demons do.

In an interesting departure, Willem Dafoe has fun playing it straight as a hard-boiled detective from the afterlife.

The CGI-heavy story hinges on weddings, a funeral and a grotesque birth that is a mini-me Beetlejuice who is as demonic as the Chucky doll from “Child’s Play.”

It’s all ridiculous, with the added oomph of Burton’s funhouse aesthetic. The waiting room is as daffy as the original, and Bob, the shrunken-head spirit, reappears as Keaton’s wingman – a more prominent role.

The needle drops are funny but the song choices can be head-scratching. A dream sequence prominently uses both hit versions of Jimmy Webb’s  “MacArthur Park” that were recorded by Richard Harris and Donna Summer. Not sure if it is more than a Boomer in-joke.

Don’t think too hard and enjoy the fan service. Danny Elfman’s score, the weird sandworms, and bizarre happenings are commonplace in this spirit world. The spirited screenplay writers are Alfred Gough and Miles Millar, Emmy-nominated for “Wednesday” TV series, who also developed the story, along with Seth Grahame-Smith, based on characters created by Larry Wilson and the late Michael McDowell.

I did miss Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis as the recently deceased Maitlands, and the decorator character Otho (played by the dearly departed Glenn Shadix).

But watching Keaton dive back into one of his most iconic roles reminds us of how funny he was in ‘80s movie comedies (before “Batman” and showing his dramatic skills in serious acting roles).

Production designer Mark Scruton, also from “Wednesday,” has a field day with the macabre and the malevolence, but also with the daffiness. Costume designer Colleen Atwood, four-time Oscar winner including “Chicago,” “Fantastic Beasts” and “Alice in Wonderland” (2011), leans into the Halloween costume, steam-punk, and avant-garde artsy vibe with lively zest. The makeup artists and hairstylists did an outstanding job that also enhances the characters’ unusual looks.

Burton doesn’t quite know how to end the film, but he has pulled off an entertaining sequel that gives beloved characters another moment.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice” is a 2024 horror-comedy directed by Tim Burton and starring Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, Jenna Ortega, Catherine O’Hara, Monica Bellucci, Justin Theroux and Willem Dafoe. It is rated PG-13 for violent content, macabre and bloody images, strong language, some suggestive material and brief drug use and the run time is 1 hour, 45 minutes. It started in theatres Sept. 6. Lynn’s Grade: B.

Fire And Ice – Eggers Explores An Old Norse Revenge Tale with Mixed Results in ‘The Northman’

Fire And Ice – Eggers Explores An Old Norse Revenge Tale with Mixed Results in ‘The Northman’

By Lynn Venhaus
For all its relentless fury and fire, “The Northman” has a remote iciness that hampers emotional investment in the Shakespearean heroes and villains.

That said, its vast medieval-era storytelling is stunning in its vivid and realistic presentation and sets in motion a bloody, savage revenge tale.

A terrified boy sees his father slaughtered, his mother kidnapped, and his tribe decimated. To escape from death, he runs for his life, and his future path is set by trauma – horrible violence and emotional pain.

The young prince repeats this phrase over and over, first as he escapes: “I will avenge you, Father! I will save you, Mother! I will kill you, Fjölnir!”

It’s a simple plot, really, but like his other two immersive historical films “The Witch” (2016) and “The Lighthouse” (2019), director Robert Eggers takes a long time getting to where he wants to go.

The ambitious and singular Eggers, known for his visionary aesthetic and meticulous historical details, has wrapped this gruesome adventure with dark Norse mythology and mystical elements.

Set in the 10th century Iron Age in Scandinavia, this brutal testosterone-fueled exercise  honors Nordic rituals and customs in a painstaking, sometimes surreal, way. Don’t expect inaccurate horned helmets or any out-of-sync aspect.

The Icelandic and Northern Ireland landscapes are a portrait of an emerging agrarian civilization whose marauding barbarians have their own laws and behaviors. Those seafaring Vikings were in their land-taking phase then.

Those familiar with Vikings’ television programs, and such grand-scale movies as “Gladiator,” “Braveheart” and even “Conan the Barbarian,” will understand the power struggles and the tribal need to conquer.

The Nordic characters are faithfully portrayed in the blood-and-guts action, with intense swordplay and more than a few beheadings. With such characters as Finnr the Nose-Stub and Hersveinn the Battle-Hard, you can imagine the chest-thumping and loud growls.

Women, naturally, are marginal characters, but in Eggers’ screenplay, co-written by Scandinavian author Sjon, Queen Gudrun (Nicole Kidman) is given a hefty character arc. Unfortunately, ethereal Anna Taylor-Joy as slave Olga of the Birch Forest needed more to do – but does display a fierceness.

Singer-actress Bjork shows up in one scene as a seeress, who reminds Amleth of his destiny.

Similarities to “Hamlet” are obvious. After all, he was the Prince of Denmark — whose father was killed by his uncle who married his mother. But was Shakespeare inspired by Amleth’s odyssey, not vice versa? Hmmm.

The strange, trippy quality is enhanced through Jarin Blaschke’s atmospheric cinematography, Craig Lathrop’s impeccable production design and a propulsive musical score from Robin Carolan and Sebastian Gainsborough. Those drumbeats are ominous.

Blaschke, who has worked on all Eggers’ films and was Oscar-nominated for “The Lighthouse,” frames the starkness brilliantly, often working with candles and fire. So has Lathrop, whose primitive design was influenced by historical consultants, including archeologists and literary scholars.

The plot doesn’t offer much complexity, and although there is an interesting twist revealed about two-thirds of the way, most of the characters don’t have enough passion to engage. They can be admired for their mental and physical toughness but keep us at a distance.

The once lively little boy (well-played by an all-in Oscar Novak) has turned into a sour, dour and buff he-man who is so singularly focused he can’t fully enjoy the love of a good woman.

The likable Alexander Skarsgard is physically fit for the role, with his lanky physique, and has taken on blockbuster roles in “Kong vs. Godzilla” and “The Legend of Tarzan” before without making a mark. This fearless beast starts at 11 and has nowhere to go in ferocity.

However, Skarsgard has previously demonstrated he is best-suited for dramatic turns in independent films and prestige television – the suave guy with some simmering issues (Racist husband in “Passing,” jilted groom in “Melancholia”). He first gained notice as the Viking vampire Eric Northman on HBO’s “True Blood” (2008) and later won an Emmy as the menacing, abusive husband of Nicole Kidman in “Big Little Lies” (2017).

Interesting that he and Kidman team up again, only she plays his damsel-in-distress mother here. Kidman gives the film’s best performance.

In typical wacky Willem Dafoe fashion, “The Lighthouse” star is Heimr the Fool. Ethan Hawke is impactful in his brief role as King Aurvandil War-Raven.

Things tend to get weird if Eggers is in charge, and he likes to explore evil forces’ effect on ordinary lives, how it messes with fate. With a bigger budget and broader in scope, “The Northman” delivers as a spectacle but falls a little short of its lofty goals.

The gripping action scenes of the first chapter give way to repetitive combat in the final ones, and even though the big showdown is one primal scream, by then the narrative has lost steam.

“The Northman” is not for the faint of heart. It’s a difficult challenge to meld artistic vision with blunt-force action, and the rage is never harnessed. For all the modern talk about toxic masculinity, this is an early example, and therefore, hard to watch in 21st century times.

But as a period piece, its sheer weight is enormous, and deserves to be explored.

“The Northman” is a 2022 action, adventure, drama directed by Robert Eggers and stars Alexander Sarsgaard, Nicole Kidman, Claes Bang, Anya Taylor-Joy, Willem Dafoe, Ethan Hawke, Bjork and Oscar Novak. It is rated R for strong bloody violence, some sexual content and nudity and runs 2 hours, 20 minutes. It opens in theaters April 22. Lynn’s Grade: B.

‘The Northman’: Savagely Violent, Captivating, Yet Underwhelming

‘The Northman’: Savagely Violent, Captivating, Yet Underwhelming

By Alex McPherson
A snarling, fever-dream rampage of vengeance, director Robert Eggers’ “The Northman” can’t match its stunning attention to detail with an emotionally satisfying narrative.

Set during the Dark Ages, Eggers’ third feature is based on the text that inspired William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet.” In the fictional kingdom of Hrafnsey, King Aurvandil (Ethan Hawke) returns home from a long voyage and ordains his son, Amleth (first played by Oscar Novak, then Alexander Skarsgârd), to become the tribe’s future ruler in an elaborate ritual featuring crawling on all fours, farting, levitating, and Aurvandil’s innards morphing into a magical family tree.

Soon after, tragedy strikes. Amleth’s cold-hearted uncle Fjölnir (a menacing yet layered Claes Bang) assassinates Aurvandil, wreaks havoc on the populace, and kidnaps Amleth’s mother, Queen Gudrún (Nicole Kidman). Young Amleth escapes via boat by the skin of his teeth, vowing to get revenge, restore honor to his family, and fulfill his destiny.

Decades later, Amleth has become a ruthless killing machine, raiding nearby villages with a band of like-minded berserkers. After torching a barn full of townspeople, a feather-laden seeress (Björk) reminds Amleth to rejoin the path to slay Fjölnir. Amleth then disguises himself as a Slavic slave en route to Iceland, to the farm where his uncle eventually fled.

Along the way, he meets another slave, the alluring Olga (Anya Taylor-Joy), who presents a different path to take — if he has the will to recognize the power of love amid chaos.

Ultimately, “The Northman” shines less in terms of thematic depth or provocative characterization than it does in Eggers’ pure, balls-to-the-wall style. If nothing else, the film viscerally immerses us into a specific time and place, where heinous violence is an accepted way of life, and strict traditions dictate one’s future.

Indeed, Eggers throws viewers into an unfamiliar land of rugged vistas and simple-minded cruelty. Amleth’s mentality seems out of his control, forced upon him by what society expects, leaving little room for personal agency and boundless space for blood-letting. 

There’s definitely merit in how “The Northman” unapologetically depicts its Icelandic setting and Viking cultural customs, visualizing the characters’ psychedelic visions in blunt, matter-of-fact fashion that doesn’t seem sanitized or toned-down for general audiences. Like his previous features, “The Witch” and “The Lighthouse,” Eggers depicts the mystical as co-existing with the ordinary, feeding into the characters’ archaic attitudes.

Bizarre rituals underscore their sense of “honor,” but also the traditions they are unable to break away from. The cinematography and editing emphasizes a mystifying and off-kilter world of gods and spirits they’ve devoted themselves to. 

During several extended action sequences, enhanced by Vessel and Robin Carolan’s pulse–pounding score, “The Northman” opts for long-takes, which break that spell, illustrating the grueling nature of combat and encouraging us to judge Amleth as he becomes a beast before our eyes.

The spectacle is enthralling, for a while, as the utter intensity of Eggers’ filmmaking allows us to feel like we’re right in the muck along with him.

The initial adrenaline-fueled carnage becomes repetitive in the film’s latter half, though, where the previously expansive action is restricted to one primary location, and Amleth’s single-mindedness devolves further into grotesque, blackly comic delusion that’s even harder to care about. 

Sadly, despite its spectacular style, “The Northman” doesn’t do enough to peel back the layers of Amleth’s damaged psyche. It follows a fairly standard revenge narrative, even resembling a video game at some points as Amleth receives instructions to “go here, get this item, and kill the bad guys.”

Moments of quiet reflection are few and far between, as Amleth — often saddled with clunky dialogue — goes about his murderous ways. His transformation from an innocent young man into a hardened killing machine is abruptly glossed over, as are the moments between the slaughtering where he starts to question his actions. He essentially remains a broken husk for much of the runtime, unable/unwilling to be vulnerable or consider the risks his acts of violence entail for those he cares about.

Skarsgärd does what he can with the material, roaring with gusto, but Amleth’s arc checks off archetypal plot beats without actually saying anything new about the price of revenge. Similarly, the ever-talented Taylor-Joy is given a simplistic love interest role that mainly serves to check off bullet-points on the way to an inevitable conclusion. The standout performer is Kidman, who lends Queen Gudrún an unpredictably unhinged quality that keeps viewers on their toes.

When the last drop of blood is spilled, “The Northman” lacks the heart and soul necessary to ascend into legend, but there’s enough achingly well–crafted filmmaking on display to declare it an honorable effort.

“The Northman” is a 2022 period action-adventure directed by Robert Eggers and starring Alexander Skarsgard, Anna Taylor-Joy, Nicole Kidman, Claes Bang, Ethan Hawke and Willem Dafoe. It is rated R for strong bloody violence, some sexual content and nudity and runs 2 hours, 20 minutes. It is playing in theaters April 22. Alex’s grade: B

Thriller ‘The Card Counter’ Explores the Dark Side After Iraq War Crimes

Thriller ‘The Card Counter’ Explores the Dark Side After Iraq War Crimes

By Lynn Venhaus
William Tell (a shortened surname) is a broken man, but he hides it well. With his well-groomed appearance, this sharp-dressed man looks every bit a winner when he walks through casinos across the country.

But cracks in his icy façade start showing in “The Card Counter,” once we view his austere existence, his penchant for staying at nondescript motels, his OCD-like tendencies, and the flashbacks to his grisly military service.

This revenge thriller shows how an ex-military interrogator turned gambler is haunted by the ghosts of his past.

Tell served in the Iraq War, and afterwards, spent 8.5 years in military prison for torturing the enemy at the Abu Ghraib prison, near Baghdad. The abhorrent behavior of the interrogators and the squalid living conditions are well-documented and glimpsed here.

Isaac is convincing as a man trying to come to terms with the lives he destroyed emotionally and physically. But the mental turmoil has clearly taken a toll, and he seeks redemption – despite not being able to forgive himself.

Wrestling with demons is a specialty of writer and director Paul Schrader, whose last film in 2017, “First Reformed,” was about a guilt-wracked pastor (Ethan Hawke, in his best work to date).

The quintessential outsider, Schrader finally received his first Oscar nomination for the “First Reformed” screenplay but has been part of such highly praised films as “Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull” and “American Gigolo” for five decades.

He’s not afraid to explore the dark side, and neither is Isaac, who is most well-known as the heroic pilot Poe Dameron in the new “Star Wars” chapters. But he has impressed with edgy portraits in “A Most Violent Year,” “Ex Machina” and “Inside Llewyn Davis.”

This film is dark and disturbing, but also haunting and hypnotic. That is largely due to the cast’s interpretation of this material as well as first-rate production elements.

The fine young actor Tye Sheridan (“Mud,” “Joe”) plays Cirk, who is hell-bent on revenge. He hooks up with Tell at a law enforcement convention, where their mutual enemy, a retired major turned security consultant, Gordo (customary good work from Willem Dafoe), is the keynote speaker. Cirk blames Gordo for his father’s suicide, and he was Tell’s superior officer.

Tell decides to take Cirk under his wing on the casino trail, where he has met the intriguing La Linda, a keen observer who runs a gambling stable for corporations. She has her eye on Tell. He’s wary of this mysterious financier – Tiffany Haddish, playing against type – but he’s in. The trio’s goal is the World Series of Poker.

Like Rev. Toller in “First Reformed,” Tell writes his innermost thoughts in a diary. He has determined that Cirk is too undisciplined to control, and things will go from bad to worse – let’s leave it at that.

While the garish confines of casinos speak volumes about the people who flock there for refuge, entertainment and competition, it is a fitting backdrop for this drama. Alexander Dynan’s cinematography and Ashley Fenton’s production design add to the bleak atmosphere.

The throbbing music score composed by Robert Levon Been adds to a feeling of urgency and is a superb component to the escalating tension.

This is a tough watch. There is an inescapable sadness to it all, but if you are familiar with Schrader’s work, you would know what you are getting. His themes, as always, are his view of the country we live in, and the vulnerable way we all feel under duress.

“The Card Counter” is a revenge thriller directed by Paul Schrader and starring Oscar Isaac, Tiffany Haddish, Tye Sheridan and Willem Dafoe. It is rated R for some disturbing violence, graphic nudity, language and brief sexuality and the run time is 1 hour, 51 minutes. It opened in theaters on Sept. 10. Lynn’s Grade: B