James Mangold’s film follows Timothée Chalamet as the young Bob Dylan, who comes to New York in 1961 and rises to fame on the folk music scene.
Some of the great scenes are the quiet ones, but the very best is the ending, when Dylan decides to go electric, to the chagrin of his folk music audience.
The scene defies cliches of a musician winning his audience over. Refusing to back down, it shows why and how Dylan became a legendary icon.
Conclave
Examining the corrupting effects of institutional misogyny in the Catholic Church, Edward Berger’s papal drama makes a virtue of its oppressive male energy. It’s an emotional jolt when a woman is finally given the floor: “Although we sisters are supposed to be invisible, God has nevertheless given us eyes and ears,” says Isabella Rossellini’s quietly watchful Sister Agnes, launching an excoriating speech that makes it clear no cardinal sin goes entirely unnoticed.
Dune: Part Two
In “Dune: Part Two,” there’s thrilling moment when Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) first manages to successfully ride a sandworm? The young man’s humility in exploring the culture of the Fremen had bred ambition, but Paul’s excitement is tempered with nervousness after his thumper attracts one of the planet’s biggest worms. After a dune collapses beneath him, Paul is dropped right on top of the beast, and the wake of wind and sand threatens to impede him from achieving his goal.
But what becomes more mesmerizing than his eventual success is its impact on the Fremen, who view the ride as fulfillment of prophecy as Chani (Zendaya) questions his ultimate role on her world.
PARAMOUNT
Denzel Washington is the highlight of “Gladiator II” with the gold earring, the flowing toga and glint in his eye. Macrinus, a wealthy trader who buys Paul Mescal’s Lucius to be a gladiator, aims for the highest seat in the senate and wants to be emperor. However, the emperor twins Geta and Caracalla (played by Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger) stand in his way. So, he turns them against one another and callously beheads Emperor Geta before presenting it to the senate.
Nickel Boys
AMAZON
Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor’s shattering performance in “Nickel Boys” as Hattie, a tragedy-burdened woman raising her grandson alone in 1960s Jim Crow Florida. She’s the pillar on whom others come to rely. In the most wrenching scene of RaMell Ross’ adaptation of Colson Whitehead’s novel, she’s flooded with feelings. Denied a visit to her grandson at the abusive reform school where he’s been unjustly imprisoned, she gives the hug intended for him to another inmate, a stranger. It’s the most seismic surge of emotion in a film that’s never sentimental — an uncontrolled explosion of love in a world of hate.
A Real Pain
SEARCHLIGHT
Jesse Eisenberg’s road trip pic explores familial bonds as well as generational pain and personal demons, laced with humor and standout performances by Kieran Culkin, Eisenberg and superb supporting cast.
Culkin’s Benji is a charismatic, bright man who’s been lost–unable to fulfill any expectations he or his family had for him. Eisenberg’s David is loving, professionally successful, but uptight. The cousins take a group trip through Poland, discovering their Polish-Jewish roots with the goal to visit their Holocaust survivor grandmother’s house.
At a group dinner, Benji begins acting, eventually storming away — only to be heard playing the piano in the next room,
David then describes the Benji he knew growing up — the young man poised for greatness only to be sideswiped by mental pain. It’s a breathtaking mix of anger, sorrow and poignancy.
The tension of “September 5” lies not in the unfolding events of the Israeli hostage situation at the 1972 Olympic Games, but in examining the ways ABC Sports cover it. At a crucial moment when German authorities try and wrest control from the Palestinian guerillas, ABC opts to film the locations where those troops are setting up vantage points. As the news team lampoons the local authorities for their dubious competence, they slowly realize that they’re compromising their efforts by broadcasting them onto TVs accessible by the Palestinians. This leads to tense confrontation that underscores how even the most dutiful news reporting could cause harm.
Sing Sing
Greg Kwedar’s true story focuses on the Rehabilitation Through the Arts (RTA) program in Sing Sing correctional facility, where inmates create theater.
For most of the film, John “Divine G” Whitfield (Colman Domingo) is a pillar of the community, strong and helpful for everyone, with encouraging advise.
When he learns that his parole has been denied yet again, he has an outburst and quits the program. Later, he is approached in the prison yard by the Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin (playing himself), a man he has mentored and advocated for. The usually loquacious Divine G is quiet as Divine Eye points out his flaw — “as many brothers as you helped, you won’t extend your hand.” Divine G simply says: “I fucked up.” He then learns that the troupe took a vote and unanimously wants him back.
The Substance
For Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) — the 50-year-old at the center of “The Substance” struggling with career obsolescence, anxieties about her appearance and her youthful, narcissistic splinter self (Margaret Qualley).
For her, the bathroom isn’t a sanctuary, it’s a place of violent self-scrutiny. Elisabeth’s unspoken fears about beauty standards morph into abject frustration as she prepares for her date with former classmate. Makeup, initially applied judiciously, becomes heavily layered, attempt to gain confidence through cosmetics. Rather than flaunt her red dress’ low neckline, she adds a scarf to cover her décolletage.
Feminine insecurities are delicate things to capture with as much introspective complexity as Moore and filmmaker Coralie Fargeat do during this tragic sequence.
It culminates with Elisabeth unable to leave her apartment, paralyzed by self-loathing. The raw honesty is a gut punch for the character — and for man women in and out of the audience. —Courtney Howard
Wicked
UNIVERSAL
Perhaps the finest scene in Wicked takes place in the Ozdust Ballroom. Walking into a room, feeling awkward and that people are staring? Cynthia Erivo’s Elphaba walks down the stairs with the new hat from Glinda, believing it was a gift of friendship and not of ridicule. When Elphaba take that hat off, she holds space and starts a silent dance. When Glinda joins her and they touch hands, it’s the beginning of friendship, but also a moment of acceptance for Elphaba.
