QUICK TAKES: Goodbye Christopher Robin, 78/52: Hitchcock's Shower Scene, and Patton Oswalt: Annihilation

Courtesy of Fox Searchlight

Goodbye Christopher Robin
(Rated PG for thematic elements, some bullying, war images and brief language. Now playing at Regal Tara and Lefont Sandy Springs.)

The cast: Domhnall Gleeson, Margot Robbie, Kelly Macdonald, Will Tilston and Alex Lawther.

What it’s about: In the years after author A.A. Milne (Gleeson) returns home from World War I, he finds himself suffering from PTSD and unable to write. To clear his mind, Milne and his wife Daphne (Robbie) move to the English countryside and hire a nanny (Macdonald) to take care of their young son, Christopher Robin (Tilston). In the months that follow, Milne finds inspiration as he watches his son play with his stuffed animals. He gets an idea for a series of children’s books that will change the world.

The good: Director Simon Curtis (working from a screenplay by Frank Cottrell Boyce and Simon Vaughn) spends a great deal of time investing in these characters so that – after a methodically paced first half – all the emotional payoffs hit much harder than I expected. Make sure you bring plenty of Kleenex.

Gleeson, who was also partly responsible for making me cry like a baby in About Time, switches roles a bit here, playing a stern, psychologically wounded father instead of a goofy, kindhearted son. It demonstrates his range as an actor and makes me happy that he’s finding steady work in a staggering variety of movies.

His scenes with the young, cherubic Tilston are easily the best in the film, which makes it hurt that much more when the sudden celebrity drives a wedge in their relationship. Macdonald also demonstrates terrific chemistry with the talented kid, her character providing a maternal figure and a sense of stability for him since his own mother is too busy enjoying the family’s newfound fame and fortune.

The film is gorgeous thanks to Ben Smithard’s rich cinematography (which incorporates some beautiful, sparingly used animation and CGI), as well as David Rogers’ brilliant production design and Odile Dicks-Mireaux’s beautiful costume design.

The not-so-good: Robbie is one of my favorite actresses, but the screenplay doesn’t do her any favors. While she does her best to inject humanity and depth into Daphne, the character remains unlikable and one-note throughout. In addition, the narrative feels like it’s trying to be several different movies simultaneously, which means various subplots often seem scattered and on-the-nose.

Finally, there’s a plot thread that’s introduced at the beginning of the movie that feels a little like cheating when viewers learn how it plays out. To avoid spoilers, I’ll just say that tears flow freely, but some people might feel conned as they’re wiping their eyes.

Grade: B

78/52: Hitchcock’s Shower Scene

Courtesy of IFC Midnight

(Not rated but contains strong language, thematic elements and brief nudity. Now playing at the Plaza Theatre and On Demand.)

The cast: Jamie Lee Curtis, Guillermo del Toro, Peter Bogdanovich, Danny Elfman, Elijah Wood, Eli Roth and Karyn Kusama.

What it’s about: Alfred Hitchcock’s revolutionary Psycho continues to haunt viewers almost 60 years later. Of course, the most iconic, terrifying sequence features the ill-fated Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) taking a shower at the creepy Bates Motel. This fascinating documentary devotes almost its entire running time to this three-minute scene. A diverse range of filmmakers, critics, and fans analyze this moment (containing 78 camera set-ups and 52 edits), breaking it down frame by frame to unpack a wealth of symbolism and showcase Hitchcock’s masterful technique.

The good: I was in movie nerd heaven for 90 minutes as 78/52 unfolded in front of me. I’ve probably seen Psycho more than a dozen times over the years, but I still learned a ton of new information from filmmaker Alexandre O. Philippe. I also appreciated the wide range of commentary from directors like del Toro and Roth, composers like Elfman and even pure fanboys like Wood.

In my day job as a college professor, I’m fortunate enough to get to teach an Intro to Film class. As you might imagine, this documentary is quickly going to become required viewing for my students. It’s designed to prompt endless discussions, and I can’t wait to get started.

The not-so-good: Honestly, my biggest problem is that the documentary isn’t longer and only covers such a small portion of one of my all-time favorite movies. I would’ve gladly watched a doc twice as long if it covered more of Psycho, instead of just the shower scene. But that’s not the point of this brave experiment, so I can’t hold it against Philippe.

Grade: B+


Patton Oswalt: Annihilation

Courtesy of Netflix

(Rated TV-MA, contains strong language. Now streaming on Netflix.)

The cast: Patton Oswalt.

What it’s about: In his latest stand-up special, Oswalt finds laughs in a range of subjects. Some are obvious, like the Trump jokes he admits are too easy. Some are surprising, like his experience watching a power lifter end a bar fight before it starts. Others are heartbreakingly difficult, like recounting the sudden death of his wife (true crime writer Michelle McNamara) and his experiences as a widower and single dad.

The good: I don’t typically review stand-up specials, but I’m making an exception for the brilliant Annihilation. The degree of difficulty Oswalt faced in mining comedy from the most tragic experiences of his life is nothing short of mind-boggling. Before this special, I’d never wept while watching stand-up before. It’s a peculiar experience, but one that deepens and enriches the material.

Even when I enjoy comedians, their material rarely sticks with me more than a few days after watching them. I don’t think that’s going to be the case with Annihilation. It’s going to linger in my mind for a long time to come thanks to Oswalt’s gifts as a storyteller. Yes, his jokes are expertly crafted to build slowly and explode with a perfectly timed punchline. But even if they don’t, I just like hearing the guy talk.

So does the Chicago crowd on hand for this production (skillfully directed by Bobcat Goldthwait, another talented comedian). Even when there are long stretches without jokes – particularly when Oswalt is recounting the nightmarish day when he had to tell his daughter about her mother’s death – the audience is patient, allowing Oswalt to establish the context for jokes that eventually make you laugh through the tears.

The not-so-good: Because of our divisive political climate, I’m sure Oswalt’s jokes about Trump will be a deal-breaker for some. But funny’s funny, and the comedian’s intelligent wordplay and clever analogies make the material worth the controversy it will inevitably generate. (Besides, if current polling is any indication, more Americans are inclined to agree with Oswalt than not.)

He also gets a little graphic near the end (I’m no prude, but even I thought it was a bit excessive.) However, he closes with a poignant explanation about why he incorporates that material, which ties back into the love he still clearly has for his late wife. It’s a bizarre mix of filth and kindness, which is almost impossible to pull off. But Oswalt somehow makes it work.

Grade: A