The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part II (2015) and one more Movie Round Up

Don’t let any of this let you think I don’t bow to the acting power that is Jennifer Lawrence … or Donald Sutherland, the latter one of my favorite actors, whether he’s saint or sinner. But, barely 400 pages, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay did not deserve two films. Yet here we are, me watching a two-hour-plus film of the back half of a slim YA novel that was a quick dystopian read, but can’t sustain 4-plus hours of film. Serious time suck. You know the plot? Teenage hero Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) lives in a “Nineteen Eighty-Four” world with Sutherland as a fascist dictator who hosts annual war games on TV with kids killing kids, for fun. Rebellion hits. This is the final (final) fight-the-power war film, but a slog; limp where it ought to bite. Author Suzanne Collins never had the drama for this much movie. Katniss suffers a devastating loss midway through. On page, it killed. On screen, it whimpers. Two films one year apart, the tension vaporizes. “Mockingjay” ought to leave a viewer restless, dizzy, hungry. This third sequel, coupled with its cringing long first half left me tired, listless. RIP Philip Seymour Hoffman in his final film. B-

Dwayne Johnson battles an angry Earth in San Andreas (2015), a goofy earthquake drama that matches endless CGI to 1970s disaster flick kicks. Millions die. Johnson saves his family. F those other people. A film made to endlessly mock, safely from the East Coast. B

In The Swarm (1978), a regretful-looking Michael Caine plays a scientist battling a massive bee attack on America. The bees aren’t the threat. It’s the dialogue: “By tomorrow there will be no more Africans,” a hero says. Seriously. A white guy says that. One wonders how this movie ever saw the light of day. D-

Gaslight (1944) is so famous a mind-fuck film, the title has become its own phrase, Gaslighting. Ingrid Bergman plays a young wife driven mad by her husband (Charles Bergman) in a mystery plot that still burns. Fantastic photography and a great performance by Bergman, with Angela Lansbury, too. Watch it, with the lights out. A

Matt Damon goes to Iraq in The Green Zone (2010), a war drama that takes on the great WMD FUBAR by the Bush Administration, but with such a heavy lib hand of self-righteous finger-waving, Michael Moore might weep. Paul Greengrass directs. Less is more, guys. B-

I re-watched Casino Royale (2006) weeks before new Bond film “Spectre” came out. I post out of order. Forget that film. This is classic. Daniel Craig’s first outing sticks (kind of) close to Ian Fleming’s book with untested 007 taking on an arms-dealing crook (Mads Mikkelsen) at a poker table. Brutal, thrilling, and constrained, this is near Bond’s best. A

Robert Mitchum is one of my favorite actors. He sells everything he ever did with seemingly no effort, a guy who has done more off screen than most heroes and villains have on. In Yakuza (1974), Mitchum is a WWII vet who returns to Japan as a private dick to do private dick stuff, and gets roped in a conspiracy dating back 30 years. The clunky swords-and-guns finale is way much, the thump chopping way way much, but there’s a pulse of haunted, ragged blood in this Sydney Pollack film that can’t be faked. B+

Tim Burton’s best film remains Edward Scissorhands (1990) a satire and love story about a misfit boy (Johnny Depp with little dialogue, but perfect) left incomplete by his kindly creator (Vincent Piece, in his final role). Instead of fingers, Edward has long sharp scissors that can slice his own face and slice others. Taken in by a Florida family (Alan Arkin and Diane Wiest) with a teen daughter (Winona Ryder), Edward learns the American Dream is lovely, as long as you never question the American Dream. Burton has rarely worked with a more soulful, playful screenplay, and he is given a masterpiece score by Danny Elfman. Ryder dancing in a storm of ice iBurton’s best moment, ever so brief, as she is cut deep, and accidentally, by Edward and blood spills. As remarkable as when I first saw it. A

Midnight Run (1988) -– never saw it until now, imagine that -– is part of the 1980s staple of buddy flicks, mismatched characters played by marque actors bicker and fight ’ti they have be friends. “48 Hrs.” “Lethal Weapon.” “Trading Places.” Y’know, right? Here, Robert De Niro is an ex-cop turned bounty hunter taking Charles Grodin’s thieving mob accountant with a heart of gold to jail. Cross county. By car, train, biplane, and foot. Funny. Smart. With an edge. Grodin driving De Niro nuts is great, great fun. B+

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1 and Gone Girl (both 2014)

Blockbuster films “The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1” and “Gone Girl” share little in common other than book source female authors, respectively, Suzanne Collins and Gillian Flynn. 

But, damn, these movies do show the difference of a bloated, ill-advised screen adaptation (that “Part 1” is a millstone) and another adaptation that takes the meat and bones of its source, cut the fat, and creates a raging animal that leaves one spooked, rattled, and –- most importantly –- wanting more. 

(Collins helped adapt her story, with others, Flynn takes sole credit.) 

If you’re smart enough to be on the Web, you know the basics of each film. “Mockingjay” comes from the third and final book in a wildly popular series about teen Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) as she struggles against a fascist future America where lives of the poor are held as sport to the rich. War is brewing. 

“Girl” follows a He Said, She Said format as a once good marriage has turned toxic and maybe deadly. The wife has gone missing, and the husband has “killer” inscribed on his scumbag forehead. 

The novel “Mockingjay” clocks in under 400 pages, and as with all of Collins’ books, reads fast. No stops or fluff. Fewer pages means less work to cut from page to screen. But success breeds greed. 

After the great sequel “CatchingFire” –- with its devastating emotional punches, great action and characters, and a cliffhanger ending –- became a smash hit even over its predecessor, watching this new film is a surprisingly dull overlong drudge. 

It’s half a real movie with dozens of outtakes crammed in. It makes the mistake of sidelining Katniss for nearly two hours of weeping and thumb-twiddling as she lets the boys take over. Ouch. 

The “Games” books and films have excelled IMHO over the awful, inept, feminism-hating “Twilight” series because Katniss has no time for romance or weeping, because she is too busy being the protector of her family. Very little of her is here. The studio now just sees dollars, and a dark, thrilling dystopian tale of and for youth is stretched too thin. 

We get scenes repeated -– Katniss stands over war rubble and charred bodies no less than five time, and two of those in the same exact location, where she ransacks, twice now, her ruined home for supplies. 

As the focus was nearly entirely on or about Katniss in previous films, we know grow our side-character roster, and God bless Philip Seymour Hoffman -– I miss him dearly –- most of his scenes are unneeded, with no need to watch him talking to Katniss’ PR handler (Elizabeth Perkins). 

Near the end, Katniss stands in a control room watching from afar as men go into battle, and she watches and watches, and spends what might be 10 minutes repeating, “Are you there?,” to the evil dictator who also is watching the rescue from afar, President Snow (Donald Sutherland). Much more happens and I won’t spoil a drop for those unfamiliar with the book, but just sitting there knowing we have another two hours of film to watch in what should have been a tight, relentless, three-hour film exhausts me. 

“Part 1” wants to sell itself as drums of war, but that pounding is all cash registers clinking, a move the wealth-crazed, Ayn-Rand-loving villains of this tale might ironically approve. The heroes? Katniss, and the haunted veteran played by Woody Harrelson? They would mutter, “I don’t have time for this.” 

“Gone Girl” –- even at two and half hours –- knows the best always leave you wanting more, be it book, film, or food. Flynn’s book was a helluva read, bouncing back for 400-plus pages between man and wife as they delve into their disintegrating marriage, he speaking in the present day after the wife goes missing and police and media come calling and ravaging; her from the past, in diary entries, sliding from happiness to despair. 

That’s three quarters of the film, until Flynn and director David Fincher don’t just turn the car around, they crash it wheels up in icy muck, and watch it -– and us -– sink and freeze. Part of the genius in “Girl” is the casting, with American sweetheart Ben Affleck as the husband and relative unknown actress Rosamund Pike (“Jack Reacher”) as the wife. 

Affleck’s Nick Dunne is a former NYC journalist turned bar owner, back in his Missouri sticks childhood home with a dead mom, a senile father, and a twin sister, and many dark secrets. His shirt always untucked, blue jeans under a gut, and a blank face, he is cold and aloof, so much to the point that the police starting wrinkling their eyebrows. Hard. Especially after the diary of the wife, Amy, is uncovered. Its most recent pages purging tales of abuse. 

Amy was raised a New Yorker and the child of parents who mined their daughter’s youth for books, children’s book that always seemed one step ahead of their own girl, one punch above perfect. “Amazing Amy” the book series was called. How can anyone stand to strive to be amazing, to live up to fiction? I will stop there. 

Fincher again has made a cold, daring film that cuts right to the dark pit of the soul, that little black ball rolled up deep inside, found in “The Game” and “Fight Club.” 

Flynn adapted her own book, gutting sections, condensing others, and adding new ribbons of dark blood toward the end. Spoilers? Harsh drama and part sick satire, “Gone” is a nasty trip through marriage and media, and personality, how people –- all of us -- perform in public, for one’s spouse or family, and even to ourselves, striving to meet expectation or get that life –- that perfect life -– we know we saw on TV, or dream about, or read about once. 

Like that book series. It’s toxic. (How harmful was a show like “Leave It to Beaver” to read, struggling American families?) There are great moments of crushing satire and criticism of the media that bounce the film along and ring true in our age where white wealthy women disappearing is national news, but not so for anyone of color, or low income. 

Tyler Perry plays the part of a sleaze lawyer who comes to Nick’s “rescue,” and he brings a dynamic, comedic charge to the film that saves it from going too dark, and he’s in a magical feat, our way into the film. 

This is a film to watch and talk about over booze and food, not read about. See it for no other reason than Affleck -- a successful director and new Batman -- crushing his role as an ugly man impossible to hate. He is a marvel to behold, as is the amazing Pike.

Yes, “Mockingjay” will make tons more money and get more press, but “Gone” is the film that stays the course. Unwavering.

Mockingjay: B- Gone: A-

American Hustle (2013)

Director David O. Russell (“Silver Linings Playbook”) opens his great 1970s-set conman comedy/drama “American Hustle” with the tagline, “Some of this actually happened,” which means we’re in for a blast of hellacious fun. Screw the facts. Entertain us. We open on a fat, slouching Christian Bale as he plasters a comb-over job atop his head until –- in his eyes -- he’s the suave lady-killer of his youth. It’s a laugh riot, a self-con from a sad sack unaware he’s done. Bale is Irving Rosenfeld, a NYC loan shark suffocating inside a mafia-heavy squeeze alongside his con-artist partner/mistress (Amy Adams), his metal-in-the-microwave wife (Jennifer Lawrence), a loon FBI agent (Bradley Cooper) with a bad perm, and a Jersey mayor (Jeremy Renner) who’s far too trusting and nice. That’s the gist. “Hustle” is too much a blast to spill more. Channeling early Scorsese with a wink-wink gleam, Russell nails the Me Decade with its big clothes, jewelry, and cars, with everyone wanting the gold ring promised to them by TV, and constantly checking their hair, even after a beat down. The acting is bonkers good, with Louis C.K. stealing thunder as an FBI boss obsessing a childhood ice fishing story. That man amazes. A

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Katniss Everdeen goes “Godfather III” in “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire”: “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” That’s the story here: One year after the Appalachian teen (Jennifer Lawrence) and her maybe platonic pal Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) survived an Orwellian government’s “Most Dangerous Game” for Youth, she’s sucked back into the blood sport for Round 2, up against fellow veterans that include Hutcherson back as the Cub Scout kid, and Sam Claflin (that awful fourth “Pirates’ film”) as a swashbuckler stud with a secret. Donald Sutherland as the dictator of this FUBAR USA still sparkles evil winks, knowing he’s the Actor King on set. Even Philip Seymour Hoffman as a new Game Master bows to his greatness. This sequel -– like its own source –- digs darker as Katniss finds herself a hero/pawn in a far-too-real game that has soldiers executing old men in public. Lawrence owns this film. Post “Silver Linings Playbook” Oscar win, she could phone it in. She seems the real deal. Truly. Director Francis Lawrence (“I am Legend”) may not have the heart-breaker moments that scored the first installment, but the final shot pumps the blood for more Games. A-

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Is there a better actress right now of the under-30 set than Jennifer Lawrence? She co-leads “Silver Linings Playbook,” a damn good comedy/drama about two troubled adults making a connection over -– of all things -– ballroom dancing. David Russell directs and wrote the screenplay (based on a book), and similar to his hit “Fighter,” rests the story on wondrous and maddening families. The lead is Bradley Cooper, giving a jaw-dropper performance unlike anything before, as Pat, a man near-disabled by bipolar disorder. Back home with his over-protective mom (Jacki Weaver) and over-bearing/OCC father (Robert De Niro), Pat crosses paths, via friends, with Tiffany (Lawrence), a young widow with her own set of issues, mainly sexual. Their relationship begins toxic, but there’s a romantic spark, they each have leapt over the cliff of sanity. If the finale is awkwardly, overly upbeat, refer back to the title: In a “Lord of the Flies” reality, we crave stories with silver linings. De Niro, after a long bout of sell-out performances, is marvelous. Lawrence (“Hunger Games” and “Winter’s Bone”) is the reason to see “Silver.” She’s 21, playing a slightly older unstable woman, flawlessly upstaging her co-stars. A-

The Hunger Games (2012) and Battle Royale (2000)

Suzanne Collins’ “The Hunger Games” trilogy stirs up the ultimate taboo as its selling points: Children, forced by an Orwel government, hunt and kill each other in a techno-possible “Most Dangerous Game” scenario. Until only one remains. Crazy scary.

The first book adaptation is solid, for the most part. The story: In the ruins of what was once America, now Panem, Appalachian-bred teen Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) illegally hunts to feed her coal-miner family alive, with dad dead and no brother around. When her tween sister is drafted to participate in the nation’s Hunger Games –- the Richard Connell challenge -–Katniss volunteers to take the suicide mission, partnered with a local baker’s son (Josh Hutcherson). At the Capital City -– think the most vile capitalist dreamscape, with bad hair color –- the public awaits its entertainment, with Donald Sutherland as ruler and Wes Bentley (“American Beauty”) as game master. 

Director Gary Ross and his writers nail the horrors of the children murdering children, without going overboard. A split decision, as maybe going overboard is needed? The film exceeds its PG-13. Why not go mall the way? Further limits: The screenplay skimps on some emotions and deeper threads found in the book, mostly on dead dad, which damages dampens the drama in a major way. But, tech geek “Wired”-wise,  Ross smartly takes us behind the scenes of the games, to show the techno-marvel perversion of these Apple on crack fascists, with no small nod to America’s past use of The Draft to send teenagers out to die for God, country, mom, apple pie, and a stronger stock market. 

Sutherland grins hungry with Cheney-esque malice and sleaze, but this is Lawrence’s film. The “Winter’s Bone” star kills here, starved and scared, yet strong, and she refuses to be identified by any label other than “sister,” and it’s a joy to watch -– especially in light of “Twilight,” which shot on young women as slaves to the men in their lives. Fuck that.

Amazing imagery abounds: None better than a young black girl, mortally wounded, lying in Katniss’ arms, bleeding out as Primrose -– that baby sister –- would have. The scene hurts as much as it did off the page. A rare trick that. That moment, one knows the Oscar nom Lawrence received for “Bone” is no fluke. B+

If you’re in the mood for a grisly double feature about children killing other children, again for sport, then you must see the infamous, “Battle Royale.” But it’s a dare. The gore.violence in this Japanese flick remains so intense, it was banned for a decade in many countries, and only now just received a DVD release stateside. It is a must watch, but not for anyone young or sensitive: The bloodletting of youth here may never be surpassed.

We’re in Japan, a future (now our past) where the world economy has collapsed, jobs are vapor, and a twin devil of anarchy and uncertainty reigns. Sound familiar? To reel in the run-amok youth, the government takes one class of students each year, kidnaps them, puts them on an island, and ticks off with ESPN clarity the bloody carnage and body count. 

“Royale” also was based on a controversial book, and many believe it actually inspired Collins’ books, with her as a copycat. The game master (Takeshi Kitano) here is a former principal with an ax to grind, and he viciously slays two students before the “games” even begin. The urvivors are then given a weapon, survival gear, and orders -– kill or be killed. 

If the youth refuse their homicidal orders, an explosive collar around their neck detonates. Sick. Right? Further sickness: The children here, though, all hail from the same class, and harbor friendships, crushes, parental friends, and festered hates. Actors Tatsuya Fujiwara and Aki Maeda are the lovebirds, while Chiaki Kuriyama -– she later played a psychopath in “Kill Bill” -– is the girl who sees the kill island as new inspiration. 

This is twisted stuff and director Kinji Fukasaku pulls no punches with violence that borders on unwatchable, and kills loved characters with no mercy. This film cannot be interrupted as celebrating violence, each death is more heinous than the last, and as the film draws on, the flashbacks and dreamy asides flesh out the characters onscreen, even if some scenes cross far too fantastical or too sentimental. (Note: I watched an extended director’s cut, the original may not have some of these scenes.)  

“Royale” has its own faults: The teens coo having never heard of this TV run-a-mok, even though the opening scene shows the games are required viewing of all citizens. Amnesia? Denial? Hell, no ... despite denials ... maybe the Collins took her ideas from here after all… A-

Super 8 and X-Men: First Class (2011)

“Super 8” and “X-Men: First Class” are not two films I would toss together on any given day, but they are sealed in my mind as a weird double feature separated by a week or so. They are sold as Summer 2011 Box Office Hits, but instead happily riff and thrive off film genres that no longer get the respect they deserve, even if they fall short of beloved and timeless classics.

“Super 8” is a throwback to the five-star films of my youth, “The Goonies” and “E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial,” fathered by two masters-of-cinema dads, one older and one younger, producer Steven Spielberg and writer/director J.J. Abrams. With a pedigree such as that, it should be the Film of the Year. Yet, it’s not. Maybe I’m too far removed from my 11-year-old self, the year I saw and desperately wanted nothing more than to be a “Goonie.” (Hang out and kiss older girls? Fight villains and plunder pirate treasure!?! Yes and yes, please.)

The plot follows a group of young teens (led by Joel Courtney as a boy grieving over his dead mother) as they get sucked up in a spectacular alien conspiracy in their small Ohio steel town after they witness a spectacular train crash. The title comes from the movie they are making -- a zombie flick -- on old 8 mm film, this being the late 1970s. I remember doing that. In full Spielberg vein, the children are the heroes, and the adults must grow up.

“Super 8” also mixes in heavy doses of government madness as in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” and it's a wild joy for a while. The teens play to each other, not the audience. The in-jokes of 1979 are so damn accurate and funny. But, damn it all, when the big bad alien is fully revealed, the film goes soft and flaky, and breaks its back reaching for sentimental pathos. All tension and fun evaporates. Also, the creature looks so …eye-rolling obvious CGI. Hey, guys, why not go for old-school puppetry and in-camera tricks? Speaking of cameras, Abrahams’ OCD love for lens flare kills the finale as faces are near blurred by blue light pops. It’s never a good sign when, during an emotional finale, one sits there thinking, “What the hell lens did they use?” But that’s nitpicking. I'll shut up.

Yes, “X-Men: First Class” is a prequel to the 10-year-old film franchise and yet another superhero movie in this, The Summer of Super Hero Movies. But that’s surface. Directed by Matthew Vaughn, “X:FC” is actually an old-school 1960s spy flick born of John Le Carre novels, James Bond films and “Fail Safe” paranoid drama, spiced with an old revenge thriller plot. We get CIA agents, war room grand-standing, fantastic hideouts for the villains (a submarine!), secret bases in plain sight for the good guys, strip clubs and old Nazis in hiding.

Much of the film takes place in 1962, the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, when the world almost nuked itself into radioactive dust. As with “Inglourious Basterds” or a James Ellroy novel, “X:FC ” takes this history and bends it. The gist: What if the whole United States/Soviet Union stand-off was the wicked master plan of a martini-sipping megalomaniac ex-Nazi Mutant (Kevin Bacon) grooving on the wish that nuclear fallout will bring him to power. Naturally, it is Charles Xavier, a peaceful Mutant (he is a telekinetic) who must keep the party from going nuclear. James McAvoy plays the young Xavier, before the wheelchair and baldness.

There’s also the rogue man out for bloody redemption who drives the whole plot forward. This is Erik Lensherr (sic), aka Magneto, an ex-Jew out to slay the Nazis who killed his family. Bacon’s character being target No. 1. Lensherr is far more interesting than Xavier, basically taking the place of Wolverine – violence-prone outsider – in the 2000 film “X-Men.” I’m assuming you know what I’m talking about, all this name dropping and Mutant talk. Apologies if you don’t. Magneto is played by Michael Fassbender who by law must become the next James Bond. (Ian McKellan played elder Magneto in the previous films.)

It’s a daring canvas, asking movie-goers to know real history. Despite how dark and dirty Vaughn stretches – he provides a gruesome death that will forever change the way you look at pocket change – I felt he wanted to go further. Darker than “The Dark Knight,” with more meaning. Too many kills cut away, sloppily, before they end. I actually could have done without the First Class in “First Class,” as the variety of young Mutants (with Jennifer Lawrence as Mystique) on display don’t hold water against McAvoy and Fassbender. There’s more nitpicking, from an “X-Men” comic book nerd’s perspective, but hey … how many summer flicks feature JFK and men in turtlenecks?

Both films: B

The Lincoln Lawyer and Limitless (both 2011)

The recent dramas “The Lincoln Lawyer” and “Limitless” follow two men undergoing massive, life-altering changes: The former follows a scum bucket defense attorney who saves his own crumpled soul when he realizes his wealthy client has no such thing. The latter focuses on a bum-luck writer who finds smarts and unimaginable wealth with an experimental drug, his soul is optional.

It’s “Lincoln Lawyer” that’s the winner by far, with Matthew McConaughey ripping into his role as Mickey Haller with a starving wolf hunger not seen since on the actor since “A Time to Kill.” McConaughey is all bleary bloodshot eyes, sweating out the poison of countless bad rom-coms, as Mickey scrambles to get out from under the weight of his sociopathic client (Ryan Phillippe, using his blankness to eerie evil effect). Nothing in this is a shocker, but it’s a helluva character study, with a great arc. William H. Macy graces the screen as a supporting player in Mickey’s life. A cool flick, more of these films please! Oh, Marisa Tomei -- seriously good actress. B+

In “Limitless,” Bradley Cooper is a NYC novelist, if only he could write one word, living in squalor and recently dumped by his successful girlfriend (Abbie Cornish). One magic pill changes all this, and Eddie is Ernest-Hemingway-Albert-Einstein with unlimited libido, godly language skills, and a penthouse apartment. Does it all come crashing down? Yeah. But then what could have been a spectacular, nasty and bloody satire on youthful “GQ” excess in 2000s turns into a slightly satiric celebration of exactly that. “Limitless” should have gone balls to the wall for a razor-sharp “R” rating, not an airplane friendly PG-13. Oh, so limited. Robert De Niro turns up for awhile but doesn't have much fun or range here. What's with that? B-

Winter’s Bone (2010)

“Winter’s Bone” is as bleak as a film can get. It makes one long for the small joys found in such fare as “The Road.” Set amid the rural mountains of Missouri’s Ozarks, this is the tale of a 17-year-old girl desperately trying to crawl out of a hole of absolute poverty while dodging a constant threat of violence. It is a far-distant cousin to last year’s “Precious,” but without the lofty dreams. Don't let this opening be an interest killer. "Bone" is among the year's best films. It kicked butt at Sundance, and also should win some awards-time love.

Jennifer Lawrence stars as Ree Dolly, the teen who might as well be 35. Her meth-maker father is either dead or running from the law. Her mother is lost in a mental void, caused by stress or maybe bad drugs. There are no doctors to help. The Dolly family has two more children, six and 10. Ree is their substitute mother. The film follows Ree as she hunts her missing father’s whereabouts, going from one relative to another. In this forgotten landscape of America, everyone is related somehow by blood. But meth, cocaine and booze are thicker than blood. They count. Kin don't.

Ree is repeatedly told, “Don’t bother. Don’t look. Shut up.” She refuses. The first major threat comes from her uncle (John Hawkes), also a drug user/supplier. Ree is scared of this man, who could break her neck or set her on the path of a better life. There is no good life. Only shades of bad, and better than bad. (Hawkes of TV’s “Lost” is amazing in the role.) The men rule with absolute authority, to the point that women will visit violence upon one another to prevent their men’s rage from uncorking.

At one point a man tells Ree not to tell “stories” about him. She retorts: “I never talk about you men.” Ree knows her place, and that of all women, here. She is no fool. A clueless right-wing writer at “American Spectator” slammed the film as “feminist” and anti-man. Since when did a woman wanting to live and feed children become “feminist”? That doesn’t mean there is no commentary here. At the Dolly house, an American flag hangs forgotten and tattered. I think it’s meant to represent the American dream for such desperate people. This is not a red state/blue state issue. We have poor in both states, and in both political parties.

Few films capture how some people can crawl up or slide down the pole of humanity. Characters here move, grow and change. Director Debra Granik, who co-wrote the screenplay from a book, makes every detail real –cluttered houses, yards and emotions. She provides sinking-stomach suspense, with no tricky editing, music or gun play. A late-night car ride that climaxes in a cold river needs no such help. That a chainsaw is involved makes it all the more harrowing.

Lawrence gives a forceful but quiet performance. If a big name were in this film, much ink and 1s and 0s would be spilled over how Ms. X went grungy and starved to give the performance of a lifetime. Lawrence will never get such lofty accolades. Similar to Gabourey Sidibe in “Precious,” Lawrence is too unknown, real and convincing in her environment to let us see her “acting.” Her last line is a heart-breaker, but beautifully told.

“Bone” is no box office firecracker, but it’s a must-see for anyone interested in the most hidden parts of America and the people stuck there. A