UNLOCKED (US/Switzerland/UK - 2017) Directed by Michael Apted. Written by Peter O'Brien. Cast: Noomi Rapace, Orlando Bloom, Michael Douglas, John Malkovich, Toni Collette, Matthew Marsh, Makram J. Khoury, Brian Caspe, Philip Brodie, Michael Epp, Ayman Hamdouchi, Tosin Cole, Raffello Degruttola. (R, 98 mins) There's a few moments of inspiration for an overqualified cast in this mostly generic terrorism/spy thriller that's been gathering dust on a shelf since it was shot back in late 2014. It was in development long before that, as Peter O'Brien's script was kicking around Hollywood as far back as 2008. There's been some updates to the story, including an overdubbed line by a minor character referencing the 2015 Paris terror attacks, which took place long after the movie was completed. Though its concerns remains topical, UNLOCKED still plays like the kind of hot-button, post-9/11 thriller that would've been more timely in 2007 instead of 2017. Living in London and suffering from PTSD after a 2012 terrorist attack in Paris for which she still blames herself for not preventing, reassigned CIA interrogator Alice Racine (Noomi Rapace) is pulled back in when UK-based CIA agents uncover a potential biological terror plot engineered by David Mercer (Michael Epp), a rich kid from Bloomfield Hills, MI who was radicalized by the teachings of ISIS-like extremist Yazid Khaleel (Makram J. Khoury) and now recruits disillusioned teenagers throughout Europe for his cause. One such kid is Lateef (Ayman Hamdouchi), a 19-year-old Afghanistan-born British national and Khaleel courier. Lateef is apprehended by the CIA and when their London-based interrogator is found floating face down in a hotel swimming pool, Alice is ordered back on duty. Things go south when a phone call from an old colleague midway through the interrogation--informing her that she'll be needed to interrogate a 19-year-old British national named Lateef--immediately tips her off that she's been tricked by traitorous agents who have breached CIA security.
Alice manages to escape and meets with her former mentor Eric Lasch (Michael Douglas as more or less the same character he played in Steven Soderbergh's HAYWIRE), who directs her to a safe house and is immediately killed for his trouble by the same crew of CIA impostors. At the safe house, she interrupts what she thinks is a burglar but is really covert ops agent and neck tat enthusiast Jack Alcott (Orlando Bloom), an Iraq War vet now doing dirty work for the CIA in London. It's double and triple crosses and increasingly nonsensical twists and turns from then on, with high-ranking CIA honcho Bob Hunter (John Malkovich) running point from Langley and MI-5 agent Emily Knowles (Toni Collette, looking like a dead ringer for Annie Lennox) working with Alice in London for a race against the clock to stop a bio-terror attack on an American college football game being played at Wembley Stadium in what amounts to a blimp-less version of John Frankenheimer's BLACK SUNDAY. Developments grow more preposterous as the story goes on as UNLOCKED thinks it's got some tricks up its sleeve, but any savvy moviegoer can probably figure out that Michael Douglas wouldn't be hired to play two brief scenes and get killed off 25 minutes in and that maybe--just maybe--he might turn up later in a plot twist that's telegraphed the moment Alice goes to him for help and he immediately excuses himself to another room for a good minute and we don't see what he's doing and then bad guys show up two minutes later.
UNLOCKED was directed by Michael Apted, the incredibly prolific British filmmaker behind the every-seven-years UP series of documentaries that's been going since 1964 (63 UP should be coming in 2019 if he stays on schedule). With a career currently in its sixth decade, the 76-year-old director's magnum opus is certainly the UP series, but he also pays the bills by being the J. Lee Thompson of his generation, dabbling in nearly every genre imaginable, with credits ranging from biopics like COAL MINER'S DAUGHTER and GORILLAS IN THE MIST to '90s thrillers like CLASS ACTION, BLINK and EXTREME MEASURES to Jodie Foster in NELL and Jennifer Lopez in ENOUGH to documentaries like Sting's BRING ON THE NIGHT and the Leonard Peltier chronicle INCIDENT AT OGLALA, and even big-budget franchise fare like the 007 outing THE WORLD IS NOT ENOUGH and the third CHRONICLES OF NARNIA film. UNLOCKED is Apted's first narrative feature since 2012's CHASING MAVERICKS, for which he shared directing credit after taking over for an ailing Curtis Hanson, and in the meantime, he's been working mostly in TV on shows like RAY DONOVAN, MASTERS OF SEX, and BLOODLINE. He brings a journeyman's sense of efficiency to UNLOCKED by keeping it moving so briskly that you hopefully won't question how needlessly convoluted or cliched it is and just roll with it (yes, Bloom tells Rapace "I'm thinkin' I'm the only friend you've got," and Douglas is heard at one point declaring that he's "getting too old for this shit"). There's a few things worthy of praise--despite the clumsiness of Douglas' reappearance that will surprise absolutely no one, and at least two other characters presumed dead but magically returning later, Apted does play with the audience in a Samuel L. Jackson-in-DEEP BLUE SEA kind of way by suddenly eliminating another major character out of nowhere, and it almost constitutes a twist when that person doesn't turn up again later. Malkovich is basically on hand to Malkovich it up to his heart's content, introduced bitching to his underlings that he's been called into the office on his anniversary and later middle-finger ad-libbing on a Skype chat with Collette's character when she isn't looking (this really does look like something Malkovich came up with and Apted let him run with it). And Rapace continues her string of committed performances after being the only good thing about the sci-fi thriller RUPTURE and playing seven different roles in this entertaining Netflix original WHAT HAPPENED TO MONDAY. After the already somewhat forgotten PROMETHEUS (does anyone talk about that anymore?), Rapace has very quietly made her case to be a major female action star, but who knows if anyone's paying attention?
From 1987's FATAL ATTRACTION through 2001's DON'T SAY A WORD, Michael Douglas had a remarkable run as the king of the controversial, hot-button hit. Whether it was WALL STREET or BASIC INSTINCT or FALLING DOWN or DISCLOSURE and others (you could even go back further and include 1979's THE CHINA SYNDROME), Douglas' string of hits were routinely the subject of water-cooler discussion and zeitgeist-capturing debate. Douglas' star no longer shines like it once did and the movies aren't as attention-getting, but he's kept busy in recent years, even attempting to recapture some of that Gordon Gekko magic in Oliver Stone's dismal WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS (2010). The thriller BEYOND THE REACH finds him in prime "smug, entitled asshole" mode, like a fusion of Douglas' Gekko and his murderous husband in 1998's DIAL M FOR MURDER remake A PERFECT MURDER, and he seems to be enjoying every minute of it. Produced by Douglas, BEYOND THE REACH would've been a hit if it came out 15 years ago, but was only released on 27 screens in the US for a gross of $46,000--a far cry from the actor's early '90s glory days. Douglas is John Madec, a multi-millionaire insurance exec who stops in a small town outside the Mojave Desert to hire a tracker to help him bag a bighorn sheep. The sheriff (Ronny Cox) tells deputy Ben (Jeremy Irvine), "the best tracker in the state," to take Madec out beyond "The Reach," a desolate area of the Mojave. Because he calls the shots in the boardroom, Madec doesn't really care that he's total amateur hour outside the security of a canned trophy hunt, careless with his high-tech weapon and operating under the belief that wealth and privilege trump safety and knowledge. Madec is a man who gets what he wants and brazenly advertises that he's the most important guy in the room (he even parks his obscene, $500,000 Mercedes 6x6 off-road-vehicle--with an espresso machine and calibrated convection oven for perfectly-grilled steaks--across three spots outside the sheriff's office). Madec makes Gordon Gekko look humble, and when he isn't on his phone brokering the sale of his company to some Chinese businessmen, he waxes rhapsodic to Ben about his favorite subject: John Madec. An unimpressed Ben goes along to get along, even taking a bribe when he learns Madec doesn't have a hunting license, but things quickly go south when Madec impulsively shoots something moving in the distance--something that turns out to be a local prospector. Madec uses his manipulative sales techniques to cajole Ben into burying the body and buying his silence with the promise of a college education and a future career, an agreement settled with a bloody handshake. But when Ben's conscience kicks in, he tries to radio back to town and Madec decides Ben has to die--not by gunshot, but by stripping down to his boxers and walking across The Reach, barefoot and without water, in the blistering 120°F sun, with Madec following close behind to ensure he dies of heatstroke. It's like a class struggle version of Tuco's desert torture of Blondie in THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY.
Based on Robb White's 1972 YA novel Deathwatch and previously made into the 1974 ABC TV-movie SAVAGES with Andy Griffith and Sam Bottoms, BEYOND THE REACH works when it's a tense game of cat-and-mouse between Madec and Ben. But screenwriter Stephen Susco (THE GRUDGE, TEXAS CHAINSAW) and director Jean-Baptiste Leonetti throw in a lot of inconsequential padding, like Ben moping around over his girlfriend (Hanna Mangan Lawrence) going off to college and entirely too much time spent on Madec's uninteresting deal with the Chinese. As the film proceeds, it starts relying on contrivances and gets increasingly cartoonish, with Madec sipping martinis and blaring classical music in the middle of The Reach while waiting for the right moment to shoot Ben from a distance (also, they're out in The Reach for several days--wouldn't the sheriff come looking for them at some point?). Douglas is obviously enjoying the opportunity to ham it up, but it undermines the genuine suspense of the early-going, and by the time the climax rolls around, Susco and Leonetti have completely driven things off the cliff, with a coda that's more at home in a slasher movie than it is here. Madec is a rich asshole--he's not an unstoppable killing machine. BEYOND THE REACH is entertaining enough and at just 90 minutes, it's never boring, but the additions made to the story just end up being extraneous filler that does it no favors. It's nice to see Douglas--who, at 70, is looking more like his dad than ever--sinking his teeth into the sadistic extreme of the kind of role he used to own, but BEYOND THE REACH just gets too beyond silly for its own good. (R, 92 mins) THE PYRAMID (US - 2014)
20th Century Fox planned on opening THE PYRAMID on over 2000 screens until shortly before its December 2014 release, when some studio exec must've accidentally watched it and it was abruptly scaled back to around 600, essentially a tacit admission that 600 screens would be 600 too many. Produced by Alexandre Aja (HIGH TENSION, the remake of THE HILLS HAVE EYES) and the debut directing effort by his longtime writing partner Gregory Levasseur, THE PYRAMID is yet another faux-doc/found-footage time waster, centering on a bickering father-daughter archaeologist team (Denis O'Hare, Ashley Hinshaw) investigating an underground, three-sided pyramid in Egypt that's supposedly been unexplored for untold millennia. They're being tailed by a documentary crew, but Levasseur can't be bothered to establish any consistency in the way the film is shot. Sometimes it's documentary shaky-cam, sometimes it's a straight narrative horror movie, switching back and forth at random. Once inside the pyramid, they encounter feral, cat-type creatures and are picked off one by one by a larger monster, ultimately concluding that the pyramid is a) the prison of Anubis, the heart-weighing, heart-devouring jackal god of ancient Egypt, and b) probably still a more pleasant place to be trapped than inside a theater showing THE PYRAMID. Most of the film consists of screeching characters running around in total darkness, and what little you can see isn't scary or even remotely interesting. The worst film to come from the Aja camp since the remake of PIRANHA, THE PYRAMID is further evidence that this style of horror film has just run its course and should be mercifully taken off life support. Dull, uninspired, impossibly lazy, and filled with the kind of stupid dialogue exchanges where people are having things they should already know clumsily explained to them strictly for the sake of informing the audience, THE PYRAMID is so bad that it may actually induce a newfound appreciation for the similarly-set AS ABOVE SO BELOW. You're better off just listening to Mercyful Fate's 1993 song "Egypt," which essentially tells the whole Anubis/Osiris story in a more coherent fashion, with the added bonus of some killer guitar work and King Diamond's signature falsettos. (R, 89 mins)
Directed by Jon Turtletaub. Written by Dan Fogelman. Cast: Michael Douglas, Robert De Niro, Morgan Freeman, Kevin Kline, Mary Steenburgen, Romany Malco, Jerry Ferrara, Joanna Gleason, Roger Bart, Michael Ealy, Bre Blair, April Billingsley. (PG-13, 105 mins)
LAST VEGAS makes it pretty easy to just think of it as GRUMPY OLD HANGOVER and doesn't try much harder than it needs to, but if you approach it as nothing more than harmless entertainment, you might find yourself laughing quite a bit. Old people being raunchy or doing youthful things are formulas that are always fodder for cheap laughs, but with five Oscar-winners on board, the film can coast on their history and screen presence alone. There's also occasional bits of heart and poignancy amidst the easy and predictable old age jokes. Wisely keeping it at a PG-13 considering that the target audience really isn't into grossout humor, LAST VEGAS accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do: great actors we've known for decades working together for the first time and clearly enjoying themselves. Sure, it's nobody's best movie, but it's hard to dislike.
Four best friends of 60 years are reunited for a Vegas bachelor party when one--wealthy, over-tanned bachelor Billy (Michael Douglas) is marrying a woman nearly 40 years younger. Twice-divorced Archie (Morgan Freeman) is recovering from a stroke and living with his overprotective son (Michael Ealy). Sam (Kevin Kline) has had a knee and hip replacement and is bored with Florida retirement. Paddy (Robert De Niro) lost his wife to cancer a year earlier, spends his days in his bathrobe watching TV, and is still angry with Billy for not being able to make the funeral. Once together, old resentments between Billy and Paddy expectedly resurface, especially considering that Paddy's late wife was in love with both of them 40 years earlier and chose Paddy. Things hit a bump in the road when the guys meet a lounge singer (Mary Steenburgen), whose bright presence brings Paddy out of his shell but also has Billy questioning whether marrying someone so young is a good idea.
The emotional core of LAST VEGAS is the rocky relationship between Billy and Paddy, with Archie and Sam providing much of the sillier comedy. Kline's Sam, in particular, gets some of the best bits and a lot of his one-liners feel improvised by the actor ("A blowjob's not out of the question!"). Given a condom and permission by his wife (Joanna Gleason) to cheat if it brings some spark back into his life (they say age is just a number, and 66-year-old Kline and 63-year-old Gleason both seem too spry and energetic to be living in a retirement community where everyone looks 90), the mild-mannered Sam basically tells every attractive young woman in sight that he's available. Freeman's Archie just wants to live it up, gambling, dancing, guzzling vodka & Red Bull and just enjoying being away from his loving but sheltering son (one of the film's more amusing jokes is Archie's phone playing Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle" as the ringtone when his son calls). There's very little here that you don't expect, and director Jon Turtletaub and writer Dan Fogelman (CARS, THE GUILT TRIP) take some easy shots like Viagra jokes, Sam not being able to figure out how to pop the trunk on a rental car, old people eating dinner at 4:00 pm, LMFAO's Redfoo shaking his junk in Paddy's face, the guys briefly pretending to be mobsters (because that's apparently a requirement for any De Niro comedy), with retired accountant Sam saying "They call me Sammy the Stove...cuz I cook da books!" or Sam taking off his glasses in a bar so he'll appear younger, only to end up hitting on a drag queen (Roger Bart), but there's also some genuine emotion at times. Douglas (now at the same age as dad Kirk when he was in a Red Hot Chili Peppers mosh pit in 1986's TOUGH GUYS) has a great scene where he says his 40-year-old brain can't process that his body is 70 and the ride is winding down, and it's quite effective considering his recent health issues. And it does a nice job of capturing the rhythms and the shorthand conversation of lifelong friends with typical elderly health problems (Billy, calling Archie on the phone: "Archie, it's Billy!" Archie: "Oh God...is it your prostate?"). It's also hard to dislike any movie with a self-deprecating cameo by 50 Cent, turning in his finest film work yet playing himself, knocking on the door of the guys' penthouse suite and asking them to turn the music down.
Sure, like THE BUCKET LIST, another geriatric-aimed comedy from the recent past, LAST VEGAS is slight and relies completely on its stars, but they're too good for it to not work. Douglas, De Niro, Freeman, Kline, and Steenburgen have a welcome familiarity to each of them that makes the film go down like comfort food. Yeah, it's easy for jaded cineastes to lament that De Niro's been phoning it in for a while but, like his co-stars, he's obviously having some fun here. For fans who have grown old along with these actors for the last 30-40 years (though Freeman and Kline didn't come to prominence until the '80s), it's nice to see them still getting it done and not having lost a bit of their star power. Is it WALL STREET, TAXI DRIVER, THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, or A FISH CALLED WANDA? Of course not, but it doesn't have to be. What it does is respect its actors and their legacies enough to not ask them to embarrass themselves, which was a very definite possibility. Cinesnobs need to check the cynicism at the door with this one. It is what it is--it's pretty consistently funny and it gives its intended audience what they came to see.
Directed by Steven Soderbergh. Written by Richard LaGravenese. Cast: Michael Douglas, Matt Damon, Dan Aykroyd, Rob Lowe, Scott Bakula, Debbie Reynolds, Paul Reiser, Cheyenne Jackson, Nicky Katt, Tom Papa, Boyd Holbrook, Bruce Ramsay, David Koechner. (Unrated, 118 mins)
The prolific Steven Soderbergh's seventh or eighth consecutive "last movie" is based on the memoir by Scott Thorson and the film retains what's largely Thorson's side of events in his relationship with legendary pianist and entertainer Liberace. Set between 1977 and 1987, everything is seen through his eyes, and it's less a Liberace biopic and more a study of an average young man seduced not just by an older man, but by fame, fortune, and excess.
There's some very humorous elements throughout--not just of the "Look who's up!" variety: Rob Lowe is ghoulish as Liberace's pill-pushing plastic surgeon who looks like he spends his spare time operating on himself; Scott's shocked reaction to a post-facelift Liberace sleeping with his eyes open because they can no longer close; and there's a marvelously dark-humored bit where Scott, regretting his new face, complains to his friend Bob (Scott Bakula, sporting a big moustache that makes him look like Gay Sam Elliott) that he doesn't even recognize himself anymore and in the same breath, this average guy ponders which of the several luxury cars at his disposal he should use today. Soderbergh leans a bit too heavily on the GOODFELLAS/BOOGIE NIGHTS "coke-fueled paranoia-cam" in the scenes with Scott and his dealer (Nicky Katt), and there's somewhat of an "unreliable narrator" feeling in the way Thorson is presented, but it could be argued that it's simply the filmmakers staying faithful to the source. It is, after all, an adaptation of Thorson's book.
With that in mind, it's never mentioned that Thorson was a key witness in the 1989 trial of the 1981 Wonderland murders and spent some time in witness-protection as a result, nor is it mentioned that, in the years following Liberace's death from AIDS in 1987 (Thorson tested negative for HIV), Thorson served time in prison for charges ranging from drugs to burglary to credit card fraud. All we see of Thorson's post-Liberace life in BEHIND THE CANDELABRA are scenes of him working at a Kinko's and living a quiet life in a small apartment. On one hand, it feels a little whitewashed, but those elements aren't part of the story being told. All things considered, BEHIND THE CANDELABRA won't go down as Soderbergh's best film, but it works thanks to the performances of Douglas and Damon.
