Peppermint

One of the most talked-about revenge thrillers of the last decade was a little film you may have heard of called Taken, starring the inimitable Liam Neeson. Now, admittedly, I have never seen Taken.

Let’s get this out of the way: I’ve never seen The Godfather, Taken, or Frozen.

Did we all survive that? Good.

I haven’t seen Taken, but I get the gist. Liam’s offspring is abducted and he spends the film tracking down the abductors and delivering gravelly one-liners. I bring up Taken for two reasons:

1. Taken director Pierre Morel also directed Peppermint
2. Everyone I’ve explained the premise of Peppermint to has said some variation of, “Oh, so it’s Taken, but starring a girl.”

I find that second one offensive for reasons that I will spare you unless you ask me directly.

I will tell you that Peppermint is not exactly the same plot as Taken. I can see where one might find similarities, and again — haven’t seen Taken, but I don’t think they’re the same film.

Riley North (Jennifer Garner) is not a soccer mom. She does not maintain the same luxurious lifestyle as her cohorts in the Girl Scout cookie business. She and her husband, Chris (Jeff Hephner) get by on a modest set of means. The apple of Riley’s eye is her daughter, Carly (Cailey Fleming).

In an effort to get his family out of the financial valley they can’t seem to climb out of, Chris gets involved with some lethally nasty people. When the unsavory persons in question get wind of Chris’s plans to make some cash off of them, they take care of the problem in an ASAP fashion.

In the blink of an eye, Riley has the rug ripped out from under her, leaving her no choice but to survive in an effort to get justice.

While I can see where they were going with this, the actual story — at this point in our country’s history — is mightily tone-deaf. We have a white woman — some would say justifiably — gunning down people of color. Peppermint might be in poor taste at any time, but now seems especially unfortunate.

If we were to put that aside, we’re given the age-old debate: is it okay to break the law if the circumstances warrant the action? If a man steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family, is it OK? If a woman kills like 87 people to get justice for her slain husband and daughter, is it OK?

I don’t know the answers, if I’m being honest. Peppermint seems to have every intention of empowering women, but does a very poor job. Instead, it delivers a message — unsettling at best — that at the end of the day, that children are our most precious resource and should be protected at all costs. Under the guise of an action film, Peppermint glamorizes guns and romanticizes murder.

With everything happening at the border and the immeasurable, seemingly unstoppable gun violence, this is very bad timing. There might’ve been an appropriate time for Peppermint, but I’m not sure when that would ever be.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle

I’ve found, over decades of watching movies, that films boasting non-stop action are often not so exciting once you’ve shelled out your $12. If you promise me explosions, cars somersaulting through the air, or monsters grappling on the streets of a major city, I’m anticipating having my face blown clear off of my head.

Sometimes, trailers like to turn my internet browser into a house of lies. Examples that come to mind: Pacific Rim, Battle L.A., Transformers II and IV, Sucker Punch, and Fifty Shades of Grey.

Then, there are trailers that deliver what they promise. Movies like Kick-Ass, X-Men: First Class, and Kingsman: The Secret Service.

Oops! Did I name all Matthew Vaughn movies? Do you know why I did that? Because he and his go-to stunt coordinator, Bradley James Allen, are like the Steven Spielberg and John Williams of the genre. They know how to blow your hair back, and Kingsman: The Golden Circle is no different.

Golden Circle picks up a year after Galahad (Colin Firth) involuntarily and violently retired, with Eggsy (Taron Egerton) taking over his role. When he’s attacked in front of the titular storefront by former Kingsman intern, Charlie (Edward Holcroft), Eggsy narrowly escapes and, in classic Kingsman style, shakes off the ambush in order to make dinner with his girlfriend, Princess Tilde (Hanna Alström), and her parents.

Meanwhile, the world’s most powerful drug lord, Poppy (Julianne Moore) — living on her own 50s movie-style compound complete with its own diner, salon, and theater — has some pretty dreadful plans. Masquerading as a pharmaceuticals company by the name of The Golden Circle, Poppy has the junkies of the world wrapped around her warped, sadistic little finger. After wiping out Kingsman HQ, she’ll have the leverage she needs to make some demands.

The only surviving members, Eggsy and Merlin (Mark Strong) follow Doomsday Protocol, jetting them stateside to a bourbon whiskey distillery called Statesman. After getting rocked by a southern charmer with a big gun who goes by Tequila (Channing Tatum), they learn that Statesman is an American organization much like their own.

Statesman head, Champagne (Jeff Bridges), briefs the team on the Golden Circle business and pairs them up with agent Whiskey (Pedro Pascal). Tequila was supposed to join them, but comes down with something and is left under Ginger Ale’s (Halle Berry) careful watch. While showcasing her prowess in tech support, she remains oppressively behind-the-scenes. The guys will need to reach Poppy’s undisclosed whereabouts to basically save the world. Obviously.

Golden Circle was the most fun I’ve had at the theater since Baby Driver and Free Fire before that. It’s rife with savagery both in combat and dialogue in the best way possible. This installment of Kingsman is impressively witty and comes chockablock with white-knuckle fighting, out-of-nowhere absurdity, and a script that would make any screenwriter swoon.

Based on the characters from The Secret Service comics written by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons, Golden Circle gives new life to the Kingsman franchise. I, unlike some other Chicago based critics, understand and appreciate that the movie thrives on outlandish bloodshed and whimsical satire.

If Golden Circle is any indication of things to come, writers Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman should just never part. The screenplay — coupled with brilliant cinematography, of course — makes a 2 hour and 21 minute runtime feel like half of that and leaves you wanting more.

And, not that it needs to be said, but the cast is an absolute treat. Nobody plays a sociopath quite like Julianne Moore.

Best of all, as your resident score junkie, I was over the moon that Henry Jackman and Matthew Margeson came back to compose for this installment. Though they aren’t niche composers, but they do have one helluva a knack.

I’m thrilled that this movie is hitting theaters and everyone can go see it. It’s one of my favorite movies of the year and meant to be seen in Dolby. If you’re heading to the theater to see it this weekend, you might just see me there since I’ll be seeing it at least twice more before it leaves the big screen. I’ll be the girl in the “TARON EGERTON IS A BABE” t-shirt. See you at the movies!

Free Fire

Think of your favorite action sequence in a film. What comes to mind? For me personally, it’s pictures like True Grit, Die Hard, Smokin’ Aces, Django Unchained, Deadpool; these all have a common denominator — gun fights with precise choreography akin to that of a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance number.

This movie does not share that factor. Possessing a beauty all its own, Free Fire is about a bunch of dimwits, a handful of marksmen, too many guns, and a briefcase full of money; an 80-minute shootout stemming from an arms deal gone dreadfully, enormously cockeyed.

Free Fire has one of the most accurate taglines I’ve ever seen; All Guns. No Control. Let me give you a quick rundown on how this goes:

Stevo (Sam Riley) and Bernie (Enzo Cilenti) — a couple of Beantown reprobates — are en route to meet a pair of IRA affiliates. Chris (Cillian Murphy) and Frank (Michael Smiley) — along with their saucy arbitrator, Justine (Brie Larson) — await the duo outside of a dilapidated warehouse to purchase some firearms.

Once everyone has arrived, Ord (Armie Hammer) — an agent in attendance on behalf of the guy who represents the goods — conducts a quick wire search and leads the group inside.

Waiting there is the unctuous dealer presenting the wares, Vernon (Sharlto Copley), as well as his confederates, Harry, Martin, and Gordon (Jack Reynor, Babou Ceesay, and Noah Taylor, respectively).

Now that we’ve taken roll, let’s get down to the meat and potatoes.

While Martin counts up the clams in the case to make sure it’s all there, Vern plays show and tell only to find that he doesn’t have what Chris asked for. Discovering that he’s brought the wrong weapons, tensions flare. Meanwhile, Stevo — who’s rockin’ a shiner from a bar fight — recognizes one of Vern’s goons as the bloke who popped him. The decidedly shaky foundation on which this meeting once stood is swiftly obliterated and we’ve got first blood in the maelstrom.

Crawling around in a grabbag of glass, dirt, and probably asbestos, the group finds common ground in that everyone has the same goal: don’t get shot. Also, get the money.

Enter players eleven and twelve. One of these dirty dogs brought in a couple of ringers who are hiding in the shadows with sniper rifles. Whom is the question, and any remaining trust is out the window.

When the peal of a telephone comes out of nowhere, the race is on to call in reinforcements, but who’ll reach it first?

Free Fire seems implausible in concept alone. The premise could easily get sticky after awhile. Fortunately, Writer/Director/Editor Ben Wheatley and Writer/Editor Amy Jump — the minds behind High-Rise and Sightseers — found a brilliant workaround. They curated a formula that keeps things fresh and always moving forward at a pace that the audience can get excited about again and again.

This movie works on so many levels. The cast is superb; not a weak link in the bunch. Wheatley and Jump have accomplished something sublime in the brutality to satire equation. In the same vein as a horror movie that is also a comedy, there’s a balancing act that — if not executed perfectly — can leave the audience feeling jilted. The same principle applies here in that, if not done properly, the gore can overpower the relief and the viewer might abandon ship.

Free Fire accomplishes this feat effortlessly. The script — some of it seeming and probably being improvised — is biting and clever. A dry delivery to many of the film’s impeccably placed jokes elicits delicious solace when we need it most. As a sweet little cherry on top, Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury have concocted a score that fits like a glove. Undulating between a sexy spy movie vibe and an anxiety-riddled, toe-tapping sound, this unique brew brings it all home.

Free Fire offers the pleasure received from pain. It categorically owns the one thing that all movies covet: watchability. If you’re looking for an unquestionably satisfying theater-going experience, this is the film to see. One of the best of the year so far and one of the funniest I’ve seen in ages. “Watch and Vern.”

New To Netflix

Starting in June I will be picking a genre of film and then watching/reviewing every movie that is newly released to Netflix every month within that genre.

I’m doin’ em all! Anime month is probably gonna get a little weird. Maybe Netflix will find out about this and we can work out some kind of agreement where they give me money. Hey, Netflix! Luh you, gurl.

Anyway, please help me choose my first genre by voting here. Come June 1st, I’ll take the genre that gets the most votes! If you feel I’ve left out a genre that should be included, let me know and I’ll gladly add it.

Here’s a look at what’s coming in June. Take a gander, see what I’m up against, and vote! Let’s get weird!

The Nice Guys

It’s always fun to see an actor step outside of their wheelhouse. The results can be cringe-worthy or — in this case — a grand slam. Gosling has fine-tuned the Rico Suave, silver-tongued devil type; Never a misstep, his sleeves always cuffed just so as to accentuate his effortlessly toned forearms, and that ovary-melting smirk of his.

Crowe, on the other hand, uses his perpetually furrowed brow and gruff demeanor to take roles that require him to basically embody the not-actually-that-far-off version of himself, the Makin’ Movies, Makin’ Songs, and Fightin’ ‘Round the World Russell Crowe from South Park.

In The Nice Guys, Crowe doesn’t make quite the departure from his former roles that Gosling does, but he’s an almost delightful, jovial version of himself.

In 1977 Los Angeles, in lieu of Facebook stalking and the wealth of dirt that is the internet, men like  Jackson Healy (Crowe) were hired to find people and in most cases, hurt them. Not quite a hitman, but the way you and I grab our wallet/keys/phone when we leave the house, included in his daily arsenal are brass knuckles.

At the other end of the spectrum we have the gauche gumshoe Holland March (Gosling). He’s a bit behind the eight ball and pretty consistently three sheets to the wind. He catches a break when he’s hired to investigate the possible suicide of a young adult film star. The investigation turns into the search for a girl named Amelia (Margaret Qualley) who has gone missing. March quickly discovers that he’s not the only one with a vested interest in finding this elusive young lady.

While the obstacles stack higher, March and Healy team up — against their better judgement — yielding amusing and often riotous results. With March’s pint-sized P.I. daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice) in tow — often to the chagrin of her father — they’ll have to find Amelia before anyone else does.

After their appearance at the Oscars this year, it was pretty clear that Crowe and Gosling have some zippy chemistry, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how well they actually worked together. You can’t fake that kind of rapport. Much like Bob Hope and Bing Crosby in those delightful Road To… movies, John Candy and Steve Martin in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, and Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson in Wedding Crashers, they just get it right.

It’s no surprise that I loved it because it’s a Shane Black film. And Shane Black has a propensity for making movies that I typically enjoy. Why, Shane Black had a hand in bringing together Riggs (Mel The-King-Of-Miami Gibson) and Murtaugh (Danny Glover) in the Lethal Weapon movies! Incidentally, get a look at Black’s pitch for Lethal Weapon 5 here.

The Nice Guys is disarmingly funny and even endearing with loads of pretty consistent action. Never has a movie with so many exposed breasts been quite so clever and charming. The very definition of a summer hit. Keep an eye out for a presidential cameo like you’ve never seen before and, seriously you guys — so. many. boobs.