Boyhood (2014)

Filmed during a 12-year period, Richard Linklater’s “Boyhood” follows a Texan child (Ellar Coltrane) from 6 to 18, from mishaps with pencil sharpeners to flirtations with marijuana and leaving for college. This has never been done before, not with one child, growing, maturing, faltering, and excelling in one motion. Stunt? No. The beauty of Linklater’s astounding film is how small it remains, this is not Gandhi, nor is there was or revolt. Mason plays Wii, watches movies, gets a car, a crappy job, and leaves for college. Mom (Patricia Arquette) struggles to better herself, for herself and her children (the director’s daughter, Lorelei Linklater, plays Mason’s sister), while dad (Ethan Hawke) takes decades to mature. Mistakes are made as mom remarries, and sees those relationships unravel fast, while dad quite can’t nail child interaction. Mason photographs. If there’s any “enemy” here, it is alcohol. Addiction, as empty escape. Linklater has Mason realize that trap on his own, observing, tasting for himself, observing, realizing. Coltrane’s performance is so natural, you buy him as Mason, unsure of where fiction and reality divide, and one cannot help but get swept up in Linklater’s ode to ordinary family life, drama, and love. A

P.S.  I'll revisit this film again and again, as I feel I will react to as I did “Tree of Life.” It is that good. That mind and soul altering. 

Ida (2014)

Polish-made “Ida” is quiet, brief at 80 minutes, and shot in a square black and white format that predates widescreen thrills, with only two main characters, mostly in a car. But it’s powerful, and settles in slowly. Agata Trzebuchowska is Anna, a young woman living inside a nunnery, about to take the oath that will “marry” her to Christ. Before commitment, Anna visits her only living relative, an aunt (Agata Kulesza) who only just now has acknowledged the relation. Wanda, drunken, aloof, a Stalinist judge on her way down, tells Anna three truths: Her name is really Ida, her parents were murdered in World War II, and she is Jewish. The words rock Anna-now-Ida, who commits to finding the graves of her family to bless them. In the name of Christ. Shredding road-trip cliché, “Ida” is emotional and harsh, without judgment or cruelty. The ending is beautifully realized as Ida finds balance between the life she ought to have had, the life she was given, and the life she wants. Pawel Pawlikowski films his characters at the very bottom of the frame with a vast sky or ceiling looming above, as if the weight of the world is crushing everyone. A-

Snowpiercer (2014)

Bong Joon-ho’s “Snowpiercer” is a gonzo action-thriller that marries “Runaway Train” to “1984,” with Captain America himself Chris Evans as a last-car rebel inside a train that holds the last of humanity, circling a world sunk into permanent freeze after scientists pulled a major FUBAR trying to undo climate change. The train is wealth-segregated, “Great Gatsby” upfront, stragglers in back. When two back-car children are taken at gunpoint, Evans fights his way to the engine. To God. Bong’s film is a train onto itself, gleefully barreling off the tracks, belching smoke, ash, and noise, slashing through drama/action/satire and horror, no scene more bizarre or tense than a bright yellow elementary classroom. This film is bloody fun, if not too daft for anyone’s good, but note that everyone in the forward cars is white and police brutality is common, and our rulers know that war is necessary to thin the populace. Post-Ferguson, this movie is scarily now. As the train’s governess, Tilda Swinton riffs and looks like – no shit -- Thelma from Scooby Doo, possessed by a demon, high on meth. In fur. The end is perfectly WTF indescribable. A-

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Peter Weir’s “Picnic at Hanging Rock” is a mystery with no answer. It’s 1900 Australia and a group of girls from an elite finishing school leave for a picnic at Hanging Rock, a chunk of mountain with a near-supernatural magnetism. It looms as a god, setting visitors in a daze. Watches stop. People sleep. Four girls wonder for no reason but curiosity. Three disappear, one returns panicked. The vanished girls drop the perfect façade of the school and town into hysteria, order and etiquette shattering. People don’t fear the girls’ deaths, they fear their “violation.” The unknown expands. Weir uses glowing cinematography and pan-flute music to portray the perfection that we all desire to build us for the fall. Life is unanswerable, we cannot escape it reciting poetry or meeting dinner time. The only innocent free girl throws herself to death. The grand head mistress (Rachel Roberts) loses her glory to reality, her fate leads back to that Rock. Honestly, “Picnic” is perfect, as defined as what we are not shown, by as what we are. It is art that cannot be explained or crunched into a few sentences, it must be seen. On repeat. Endlessly fascinating. A+

Seconds (1966)

John Frankenheimer serves another perfect thriller with “Seconds” after “Manchurian Candidate” and “Train.” This is a “Twilight Zone”-like sci-fi-horror about that foolish notion we all wonder: What if I zagged left not right? Moved there not here? You get it. What if’s never end. This is the hell-pit answer. John Randolph is banker Arthur -– bored empty nester pissed at the capitalist lie he swallowed from birth –- who finds himself with a crazy proposition: He can fake his death and get a new identity in the form of Rock Hudson. Newly renamed, Antiochus joins a hippie commune. Sex. Freedom. Is liberalism as much a mirage as white-shirt conservatism? Beautifully played with a barrage of warped lenses – the cinematography is by James Wong Howe of “Sweet Smell of Success” fame -- this movie is a true deep shocker that left me breathless long after the credits. As a man with a new body and voice who cannot shake old gestures and hesitations, Randolph and Hudson pop brilliant, actors who could have shared a Best Actor Oscar. Frankenheimer is my favorite director and this is another hit in a series of paranoid-heavy movies that crack men’s psyches open, baring dark truths. A+

The Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)

“What are you … doing?” That’s what evil alien Ronan (Lee Pace) asks of Han Solo-type hero Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) toward the end of “Guardians of the Galaxy,” a funny, thrilling action film from Marvel Studios that is self-aware and comes packed with the kind of rock-heavy soundtrack not heard since 1980s heydays. “Footloose” is named-checked. “Cherry Bomb” is played. This is as fuck-it gonzo flippant as Marvel’s “Captain America 2” was dead serious against Bush/Obama NSA insanity. Earth-born Quill goes by Star-Lord, a thief who gets mixed up in a universe-stretching battle Skywalker-style after he nabs a device that looks like a baseball, joining other thieves and fighters –- including a walking tree (Vin Diesel) and his raccoon pal (Bradley Cooper) –- along the way. Director/writer James Gunn serves epic gut-busting comedy first, superhero tales second. “Why would you to save the galaxy?,” asks Rocket the Raccoon. “Because I live in the galaxy!,” is the genius reply. Everything about “Guardians” is perfect, right up to the credits stinger that winks at Marvel’s once abysmal track record of movie making. Pratt is fast becoming a major film star, having played lead voice in another 2014 favorite, “The Lego Movie.” A

Divergent (2014)

Dystopian future youth dramas are getting as much cinema attention as comic book movies, so watching “Divergent” will give you nothing no one has not seen in “Hunger Games” -– good films -– and “Host” –- terrible, awful flick. “Divergent” takes place in a post-war Chicago where humanity has been divided up into factions according to dominant virtue -– smart, giving, war-like, servant, you get the idea. To have multiple virtues, being divergent, is a mark of death under the city’s queen bee (Kate Winslet, all cold). Our heroine is Beatrice (Shailene Woodley, star of near every movie this year), who is from a servant family, but cops multiple traits, mostly warrior. This makes her No. 1 target, assuming she can survive the hand-to-hand and gun/knife combat training of her new war tribe. Does she? Of course, she does. This is film 1 in a series. Woodley is great in the role, going from young and unsure to a survivor of tragedy, so she more than makes up for the ehh side-characters and an odd lack of true horror. I might be playing unfair as no one here carries the menace of Donald Sutherland leering at Jennifer Lawrence. B

A Most Wanted Man (2014)

One cannot watch Anton Corbijn’s ultra-tense “A Most Wanted Man” without mourning Philip Seymour Hoffman’s shocking death. “Most” is Hoffman’s final lead role, a notion that undeniably hovers over every dark frame. This story is rooted in futility and a man facing certain doom, likely eternal loneliness. Hoffman is chain-smoker German spy chief Gunther Bachmann, suffocating under the pressure of his job: Tracking suspected Middle Eastern terrorists in Germany post-9/11. The trick: Bachmann wants his suspects walking free to lead him to larger, more dangerous targets. His latest mark is a maybe innocent son (Grigoriy Dobrygin) of a war criminal who may want to truly dissolve his father’s ill-gotten future. The man brings into his circle a banker (Willem Dafoe) and a lawyer (Rachel McAdams) who quickly realize there are no bystanders in terrorism. More so, Bachmann is being hounded by bureaucrats to make arrests now, forget logistics. Who’s right? Who’s innocent? Nothing matters, and from the John Le Carre book from which this comes, that mindset can only lead to another dark day. The finale is a pulverizing gut punch. Hoffman truly marvels as a tired man crumbling before us. See it nonetheless. A

The Fisher King (1991)

Damn it. Robin Williams is dead. When I heard the awful news, I knew “The Fisher King” was the first film I wanted to watch, honoring the man. This is his greatest performance as Parry, a former academic who suffers a mental collapse after the murder of his wife, and lives homeless on the New York streets. The unstable gunman was set off by a shock jock radio host (Jeff Bridges) who decries yuppies on air, but lives in a NYC flat as lifeless as the moon. The main action of Terry Gilliam’s pitch-black drama/comedy takes place three years after when Parry saves Jack from suicide. Jack, realizing Parry’s downfall, commits to “saving” Parry. Serving his own ego. Dig the 15-minute midsection where Parry –- taken in by Jack -- woos his dream woman (Amanda Plummer) at dinner then walks her home, only to suffer a breakdown, pleading, “Let me have this,” to his demons. What follows is Williams’ finest moment. Also dig Williams’ perfectly told tale of a lonely, turmoil-stricken king. It’s a heartbreaking moment that now ought to leave any person in tears. Bridges, in the lead role, is excellent as always. A full daft feast. A

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014)

This is a rebooted series miles above the original run of flicks that ruled cinemas 40 year back. A rare, dark, thinking person’s treat in the middle of summer, more interested in sparking hot debate and making audience squirm than serving up empty CGI fireworks. Seriously, put aside the Oscar-worthy 3-D motion capture effects –- all shot in forest and a city, not a sound stage –- and watch this story. “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” picks up 10 years after 2011’s “Rise,” dumping its human cast (James Franco, bye) as we follow the primate survivors (Andy Serkis, you are a god) post bloody revolt and mass pandemic. This is the last encounter of ape and struggling humans –- led by an uncorked panicking Gary Oldman -- as the latter delve into the apes’ forest, to restart an electric dam. Any chance of interspecies peace is crushed under lingering wounds of the “old” world, and we enter a dark, new dystopian future the previous films merely hinted at. Director Matt Reeves has created a razor sharp sequel that, yes, may be inevitable, but it can still shock, too -- check an onscreen murder of a youth. Serkis is flat out amazing. A-

Begin Again (2014)

I love “Once,” the Dublin-set debut from John Carney that sucked the whimsical romance out of the meet-cute genre and gave us one of the best musical soundtracks in many a year. In “Begin Again” –- once called “Can a Song Save Your Life?,” a better title -– Carney hits the USA with Brit Keira Knightley in tow to play music with Mark Ruffalo. Once again, so to speak, Carney avoids the easy romantic lines and lets adults be adults, ones who exist by song: Creating them, listening to them, savoring them. Knightly is the cheated-on girlfriend of a rising pop star, and Ruffalo is on the skids of a broken marriage and dying music career. Then he hears Knightley sing and realizes a new reason to thrive. I’ll stop there. As with “Once,” music is key to every scene, but never breaks from reality. This is a good, smart film as much about New York as the couple at story’s center. Carney only over reaches when trying to make his leads seem ultra-hip independents when they share guilty pleasure songs while walking the Big Apple. Her embarrassed choice: “As Time Goes By.” Seriously, who doesn’t love to hear Dooley Wilson’s voice? B+

About Time (2014)

Writer/director Richard Curtis (“Love Actually”) gives the time travel genre a romantic jolt with “About Time,” a comedy drama that would leave a Terminator wet eyed. On his 21^st birthday, gawky Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) learns from his dad (Bill Nighy) that the men in his family can time travel. How so? Never explained. (What about the women, eh?) What is important is that Tim cannot pop Hitler or meet Van Gogh. He only can travel within his own lifetime. Indifferent to wealth or fame, Tim wants to fall in love. That he does with art geek Mary (Rachel McAdams), who shares a first name with Tim’s mother, a factoid our boy awkwardly share every time they meet. I do mean “every time” as Tim replays meeting Mary on repeat until it’s perfect, a fantasy every human likely plays out in their mind. In a move that’s on the sleeve and quite welcome for it, Curtis tips that fantasy is wasteful: Enjoy the moment, be it awkward, soggy, messy, or glorious. Perfectly ordinary, Gleeson and McAdams are a delight together. Some of the funniest bits are the side roads, especially Tim feeding a forgetful VIP actor his lines from off stage. A-

Lisa (1962)

“Lisa” is a movie I watched and wondered, I’d like to read the book; I bet it’s better and bolder. Not to trivialize this drama set in post-World War II 1947 about an Auschwitz survivor seeking entry into Palestine, that is, what we now call Israel. Dolores Hart is Lisa, and her passage is set by a Dutch inspector (Steven Boyd) who comes to love her, yes, but is more driven by his failed actions during the war to save his fiancée from the Nazis. This is all vital, especially Lisa’s grim suffering at the hands of Nazi doctors, but it’s also played way heavy-handed with dialogue smothered by Hollywood orchestra music that feels misplaced. And as great as Ms. Hart -– now a nun -– is, Boyd is played so square-jawed stiff, you just want to pop coins off the guy. A sea of horror lurks at every step, political, religious, sexual, but, every time it comes a boil, someone -– studio, director, test audience? –- slams the lid shut, cues up the music, and wants us to concentrate on pretty faces and scenery. There’s much missing. B

Noah (2014)

Darren Aronofsky’s “Noah” is mesmerizing, dredging in despair before shining in the power of hope, and yet it’s also -– not shocking, considering the people to please -– bat-crazy frustrating. Aronofsky has long focused on obsessives determined to feed an hunger even if it kills them, be it for love (“Fountain”) or art (“Black Swan”), but here he looks to the top, to God. Noah -- played by Russell Crowe -– goes far beyond sanity, terrorizing his family to -– he thinks –- please God, whom he only communicates with in dreams. You know the story. Ark. Flood. Animals two by two. Bird with twig. It’s here, but Aronofsky adds more. Welcome: Fallen giant angels covered in stone build the arc for Noah. Dumb move: Adding a villainous warlord (Ray Winstone) who stows away for months before he goes all knives and fists. Really? A knife fight is what this story -– told worldwide in many faiths -- needs? Why not scenes of the banality of life in that ship, the claustrophobia? Why add drama to one of the greatest drama stories ever told? That said, there’s no other director I can think of who could tell this story, whether you believe it fact or fantasy. B

Movie 43 (2013)

From the folks who gave us “Dumb and Dumber,” the skit comedy “Movie 43” is not the tortuous mess I feared. Oh, it’s ugly, ungainly, and –- far too often -– offensively bigoted against Asians and homosexuals, seriously, watch this film and you’ll think the worst of humanity is a gay Japanese man, but there’s bits of gold -– um, bronze -- among the acres of shit. OK, I enjoyed two shorts. The skits are all wrapped under a blanket story of an madman (Dennis Quaid) who threatens to kill a Hollywood producer (Greg Kinnear) unless the latter buys his abhorrent screenplay. The first story follows a woman (Kate Winslet) blind-dating a man (Hugh Jackman) with a neck scrotum, a malady no one else notices. Pass. It’s not funny. But there’s a later bit about a 1960s basketball coach (Terrence Howard) telling his team, of course, you can kick the white guys’ asses, what are you thinking?!? That’s deft satire. Maybe edging racist, but it’s funny. Also funny: A woman out to kill a pervy cartoon cat. Everything else ... hit that fast forward button when you see Halle Berry. “Catwoman” is no longer her lowpoint. C-

Lucy and RoboCop (both 2014)

Remember that “better, stronger, faster” intro from “Six Million Dollar Man,” with the TV astronaut who escapes death with a new bod and brain to rival Superman? 

Recent films “Lucy” and “RoboCop” -– the latter a remake of the classic 1987 gallows-humor action flick –- replay that tune, respectively following a woman (Scarlett Johansson) who becomes an unstoppable fighter/thinker after she ingests a fantastical drug, and an honest cop (Joel Kinnaman) who’s reborn as a cyborg after being blown to bits in Detroit.

Packed with loads of potential, both fall short of better, stronger, or faster.

At least “Lucy” is quick-paced at less than 90-minutes as our heroine goes from unwilling drug mule to omnipotent hero within 24 hours. Luc Besson directs screaming preacher style that if only humans were smarter, we’d kill each other less, in between long glorious shots of ultra-cool people slaughtering each other in fab fab fab slo-mo action. Seriously, Besson wants us to leave thinking peace and love, but after four bloodbath massacres and untold car crashes, who is he kidding? Morgan Freeman plays a scientist who utters, “I just hope we will be worthy of your sacrifice,” and somehow keeps from laughing as SJ goes on a nature-filled time bender that outs Besson as a Terrence Malick/Doctor Who mash-up fan-fiction writer. Johansson is spectacular and long past due her own Marvel film. B-

The new “RoboCop” starts strong with Samuel L. Jackson as a Glenn Beck-type screaming about glorious freedom, before we jump to a near-future terrified Iran patrolled by robots and drones made in the U.S. of A. “Bring it here!,” SLJ’s right-wing nut demands, as any wrong move gets a man or woman or child slaughtered onscreen. Freedom means obeying. I thought this new RoboCop is going international, after the NSA, CIA, and Cheney’s shoot first manta, and – stop! -- we’re back in Detroit, stuck with the same 1987 plot bucket of evil corporation, human overcoming robotics, kingpin villains, and corrupt cops, all with a limiting PG-13 rating. Fox News is an easy target, and the Detroit in this dystopian America fails to match the current grim reality. Talk about tone deaf. Imagine a war satire so sharp it makes Bush and Obama wince. That film played in my head as I tried to stay awake here. C-

Gambit (2012)

“Gambit” takes the 1960s Michael Caine Brit caper of the same name –- which I have only seen sections –- and casts Colin Firth and Alan Rickman in roles tailor made for each man’s screen persona. Firth is the charmer. Rickman is the asshole. Firth’s plan: Sell a fake Monet to Rickman’s media tycoon, and get rich. We have Joel and Ethan Coen given screenwriter credit. Don’t believe that PR move. Whatever version they wrote died long ago. Nor should you believe the flimsy animated credits opener that wants us to think “Pink Panther,” but delivers nothing of the sort. Believe nothing about this romp. The main gag has Firth’s hero as a delusional con artist who sees ideas play out perfectly in his mind before reality kicks in. He attracts disaster. A wink at Firth’s unending charisma? No. Director Michael Hoffman pulls the worst gotch’ya ender in history, negating the entire movie. Worst bit: Cameron Diaz channels Jesse from “Toy Story” as a cowgirl at the center of the wonky plot. She’s intolerable. D-