Digital Week – July 19

Christopher Nolan has weighed in with his take on Robert J. Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project—which led to the creation of the atomic bomb and the literal and figurative fallout that has plagued the world in the decades since—and it’s typically Nolanesque: very long, very loud, very overblown and very shallow. At three hours, the film is loaded with visual and aural pyrotechnics right from the start: I wouldn’t be surprised if the noise Nolan generates is louder than what the actual atomic explosions sounded like. He also, for no discernible reason, shoots partly in black and white. Then there’s Ludwig Göransson’s ludicrously bombastic score, which is smeared over virtually every scene—I hope the composer got paid by the minute—including several moments where some ostensibly important dialogue can’t even be heard. Cillian Murphy gives a properly intense performance but he’s overshadowed by his director’s self-importance. Aside from Robert Downey and Matt Damon, who manage to make their mark despite butting heads with Nolan’s singlemindedness, the rest of the starry cast is pretty forgettable: Gary Oldman is a cartoonish Harry Truman, likewise Tom Conti as Albert Einstein; while poor Florence Pugh, that formidable actress, is reduced to a nothing role comprising several unnecessary nude scenes.

The ongoing adversity of Black hockey players in Canada—the seemingly placid, liberal, welcoming country north of the racist U.S.—is emotionally but fairly recounted in this eye-opening documentary. Not only does Hubert Davis’ film include informative and engrossing interviews with players, both male and female (including NHL stars like P.K. Subban), about the racism they encountered playing in junior leagues or against professionals, but it’s also an enlightening chronicle about the history of Black hockey in the Great White North, demonstrating that Canada’s national sport has never been the exclusive province of white players.

It’s amazing that French director Michel Hazanavicius won the best director Oscar for his cute but slight 2011 silent comedy “The Artist”: he’s a competent filmmaker whose latest, a shot-for-shot remake of a Korean zombie movie parody doubling as a cheeky tribute to guerrilla filmmaking, is another hamfisted, nearly insufferable movie without an original idea in its head. Along with everything being telegraphed and obvious, Hazanavicius seemingly can’t help himself from going off the rails. Even Hazanavicius’ real-life wife, the thoroughly charming Bérénice Bejo, is unable to transcend her husband’s laziness.

A sensitive cast led by Laura Linney, Maggie Smith, Agnes O’Casey and Kathy Bates gives stature to a too familiar story of a group of women in Ireland in 1967 who go on a pilgrimage to Lourdes. Pretty much nothing that happens is unsurprising or revelatory in Thaddeus O’Sullivan’s drama, but the aforementioned quartet—along with excellent support from the likes of Stephen Rea, Niall Buggy and Mark O’Halloran—give it more gravitas, both serious and comic, than it really deserves.

It’s hard to dislike a movie that allows middle-aged actresses to sink their teeth into substantive roles, but writer-director Marc Fitoussi’s visually sumptuous travelogue pitting former teenage besties who get together again after decades to find they are as incompatible as ever is rarely insightful. Both Laure Calamy and Olivia Côte do what they can, but Calamy’s character is so annoying from the get-go that she’s impossible to root for. Côte remains classy throughout, and none other than Kristen Scott Thomas arrives in the third act to give a master class inhow to overact without being obnoxious, but the laughs and tears are rarely earned.

Martin Scorsese’s surreal 1985 black comedy takes place during an endless night in Soho, as hapless Paul Hackett (Griffin Dunne) meets an array of “characters” as he tries to return to normality. It’s a riotous but often unsettling ride, showing off Scorsese’s visual luster with the help of cinematographer Michael Ballhaus, costume designer Rita Ryack, production designer Jeffrey Townsend and editor Thelma Schoonmaker. Though not as substantial as his previous film, the criminally underrated “The King of Comedy,” but it’s a blast to watch, especially pre-gentrified neighborhoods of lower Manhattan. The UHD transfer is impeccable; extras include a new conversation between Scorsese and friend Fran Leibowitz, new featurette about the film’s look and style, vintage making-of, deleted scenes, and commentary by Scorsese, Schoonmaker, Ballhaus, Dunne and producer Amy Robinson.

Sigrid Faltin’s portrait of superstar German violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter waxes poetic and lyrical about her eventful life and career, from her early days as a prodigy through the tragedies of losing both her husbands to her relationships with other celebrities like tennis icon Roger Federer. Mutter is funny, heartfelt and personable, unlike her ice-queen exterior and onstage persona. Hi-def video and audio are first-rate; lone extra is an extended conversation among Mutter, her son Richard Wunderlich and Federer.

Judy Blume’s influential 1970 novel has been turned into a humorous, touching film by writer-director Kelly Fremon Craig, who retains the empathetic POV of Blume’s eponymous teenage heroine, played beautifully by newcomer Abby Ryder Fortson. Wonderful support is provided by the always magnetic Rachel McAdams as Margaret’s mother and a nicely understated performance by the usually overbearing Kathy Bates as her beloved grandmother. Kudos also to the design team, whose early ’70s NYC and NJ suburbs ring unerringly true. The film looks fine in hi-def; extras comprise making-of interviews and two deleted scenes.