Seen anything good on TV recently? I only ask because I’m struggling to find anything to pique my interest right now. Which, let’s be honest, is a bit of a problem when you call yourself a TV critic.
Instead, my current obsession is for all things movie-related – and nobody is more surprised about that than me. As I write this on a typically humid Tel Aviv summer’s day, all I can think about is where I would rather be: a cool (in both senses) movie theater somewhere in England watching the 50th anniversary re-release of Sidney Lumet’s “Serpico.” (Incidentally, the next few years should be manna from heaven for 50th anniversary prints from the “Easy Riders, Raging Bulls” era of American filmmaking.)
That’s not all. When I think about upcoming works I want to see, all I can think about are movies:
* Martin Scorsese’s “Killers of the Flower Moon,” which has one of the best-edited trailers I've ever seen.
* Bradley Cooper’s “Maestro,” about the relationship between Leonard Bernstein and Felicia Montealegre. We’ll get to the whole Jewface scandal another time, but I’m with David “The Wire” Simon and his typically blunt response to the “furor” over Cooper’s prosthetic schnoz: “An actor changed his appearance to perform as a historic character. Holy fuck.”
* Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla” biopic on Mrs. Elvis Presley and James Hawes’ “One Life” biopic on British stockbroker Nicholas Winton, who rescued 669 (mostly Jewish) children from prewar Czechoslovakia.
* John Carney’s “Flora and Son,” starring Eve “Bad Sisters” Hewson.
* Cannes hits “The Zone of Interest” (Jonathan Glazer’s adaptation of the Martin Amis Holocaust novel) and “May December,” starring Julianne Moore and Natalie Portman.
* Lukas Moodysson’s “Together 99,” a belated sequel to his wonderful commune-set Swedish comedy-drama “Together.”
This list really could go on and on, because you also have upcoming documentaries like Matt Wells’ “Frank Capra: Mr. America,” Alex Gibney’s “In Restless Dreams: The Music of Paul Simon” and Thom Zimny’s “Sly,” about the life and times of Sylvester Stallone. Don’t sneer about that last one: The 1980s action hero is definitely having a moment following his hilarious appearance (in poster form) in “Barbie” and that film’s director, Greta Gerwig, waxing poetic about the “Rocky” franchise.
Well, the small screen still has a chance; 'Flower Moon' and 'Flora and Son' are Apple TV+ releases, while 'Maestro,' 'May December' and 'Sly' will all be on Netflix.
Heck, even the upcoming books I’m interested in reading are movie-related: Nick de Semlyen’s “The Last Action Heroes,” about Hollywood blockbusters in the ‘80s and ’90s; Jim Abrahams and the Zucker brothers’ “Surely You Can’t Be Serious: The True Story of Airplane!”; and Matt Singer’s “Opposable Thumbs: How Siskel & Ebert Changed Movies Forever.”
As for TV? Well, quite a few of the abovementioned movies are bound for the small screen (“Flower Moon” and “Flora and Son” are Apple TV+ releases, while “Maestro,” “May December” and “Sly” will all be on Netflix), so I’m excited about that, if that counts?
Yet not that long ago, post-pandemic, I had fallen out of love with the cinematic experience almost as much as Mickey Rourke’s popcorn-sharing date in “Diner.”
What changed? For starters, I’ve been seeing a lot of great movies in recent months with filmgoers who seem just as engrossed in what’s happening on the screen as I am – most recently the French drama “Full Time” (“À plein temps”), starring Laure “Call My Agent!” Calamy.
Writer-director Eric Gravel’s film takes a potentially mundane subject – a single mom struggling to balance work and kids during a national train strike – and turns it into a propulsive, gripping thriller. If you can imagine Ken Loach remaking “Run Lola Run” and introducing his own trademark themes, you’ll get the gist of what “Full Time” is about.
Sure, this could still work on the small screen, but there’s something about the big-screen experience that almost viscerally draws you into the struggles of Calamy’s Julie Roy character to keep her head above water. That’s literally a recurring image in the film (though one assumes the Roy family name was a coincidence rather than a reference to the messed-up Waystar Royco “Succession” siblings).
You share Julie’s sense of desperation as she constantly races against the clock to reach her next destination in order to avert one domestic disaster or another – actually, maybe this is what “Speed” would have looked like if Loach had made it.
Danny Boyle once told me that, for him, one of the biggest differences between Hollywood movies and films elsewhere is the former’s recognition of the importance of sound, and that he always tried to get a decent budget to spend on sound design.
Gravel clearly recognizes its importance as well, because there are several brilliant sound-driven match cuts that take the viewer from one scene to the next without ever letting the tension drop. There’s a wonderful sense of a net tightening, a creeping claustrophobia, as our protagonist falls deeper and deeper into trouble – whether trying to assemble a kids’ trampoline late at night or endeavoring to leave work undetected to attend a job interview elsewhere. It’s ridiculously gripping.
Then again, if you ask my eldest kid, I may not be the most reliable of critics to trust: I told her to go see the Australian horror-thriller “Talk to Me” because, in my eyes, it was highly effective and there was nothing particularly scary in it – and she’s been struggling to sleep ever since she saw it last week. Kids today, eh? I blame the parents.
I think I’m on safer ground when I state that “Full Time” won’t give anybody nightmares. That said, it’s probably not the best film to see after a long day at work – especially if you have to rush to make the screening.
All a Blur
Oddly enough, one of the reasons I’ve fallen back in love with the communal experience is because I’ve spent half the summer going to gigs in England, reveling in the live music experience while chasing my youth. Spoiler: I never did catch it.
Blur, Manic Street Preachers and Pulp were some of many highlights. There really is something magical singing “Parklife” alongside 80,000 other people. But perhaps the funniest moment came on Merseyside last week, when Swedish duo First Aid Kit were greeted by someone singing “We Love You, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah” at the top of their lungs. I can only hope this is on the rider for every band performing in Liverpool.
I’ve also felt that same rush in theaters. In a previous column, I mentioned the joy of seeing James Graham’s soccer-themed play “Dear England” at the National Theatre. (It’s transferring to the Prince Edward Theatre from October and is well worth the trip.)
But I also found myself in the highly unusual – for me – situation of loving a musical, “Operation Mincemeat,” which takes one of the most jaw-dropping true-life tales of World War II and turns it into an incredibly funny musical farce while still managing to strike all the right poignant notes. It’s on at the Fortune Theatre until next February and would make a perfect crowd-pleasing double header with “Dear England.”
After all that excitement, how could television compete? Well, it couldn’t. Yes, I should catch up with the latest seasons of “The Bear,” “Winning Time” and “Only Murders in the Building,” while HBO’s “Telemarketers” documentary looks intriguing and several people have recommended Apple’s “Hijack” with Idris Elba.
Beyond that, though, I’m struggling to find anything to rekindle my love for the small screen. And shows like Netflix’s “Depp v. Heard” documentary and OxyContin – checks notes – drama “Painkiller” are definitely not going to do the trick.
TV, I’ll give you the summer off, but I’ll be expecting far greater things of you come the fall.
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