Posts in Chicago Film Festival
MOVIE REVIEW: Call Me By Your Name

No matter the charm and beauty, what can be questioned is the connection.  Circle all of the emotionality back to the opening essential questions.  Your tolerance is the key to connecting to Call Me By Your Name.  Your comfort level for the homoerotic summer romance being woven and your acceptance of the controversial age difference within this narrative are everything.  Either of those two qualities could be easily ignored obstacles for some or a no-go hang-ups for others

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MOVIE REVIEW: The Shape of Water

Soaringly endearing elements of romance enrapture with a heading spoonful of the perverse for good measure.  Fantastical triumphs of mortal spirit over evil forces are applied to inhuman oddities with jarringly violent consequences.  This is a film of stark peculiarity that challenges your safe zones and clashes with your sense of normalcy for the themes at play.  It asks you to relish in an abnormal spectacle that dazzles with vintage style and extraordinary boldness.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh’s new film puts prickly in the pastoral glazing its country charm with absolute acid every chance it gets.  Part stern crime drama and part small-town chicanery, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri displays the next level of McDonagh’s talent and potential.  Always the sharp storyteller since his roots on the Irish stage, McDonagh’s writing prowess elevates a premise that would fall flat as pure farce in other hands

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MOVIE REVIEW: Lady Bird

In her solo feature directorial debut, Greta Gerwig has stepped in and pushed this cinematic species tremendously forward with the dramedy Lady Bird.  The film destroys any notion of the “manic pixie dream girl” fakery.  Lady Bird is a cornucopia woven with striking candor and filled with delightful oxymorons artfully composed to challenge taboos and stereotypes. Let’s give each oxymoron a life lesson and a paragraph or two along the way.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Princess Cyd

Bright as the summer is sunny, thoughtful as the literature being referenced, and raw as the emotions running through it, Princess Cyd is a pertinent and inspiring triumph from writer and director Stephen Cone.  We are privy to private moments, yet welcomed in for sake of common ground and personal growth.   The sublime polish and volume of empathy amid this film’s themes is utterly magnetic.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Mr. Roosevelt

This entire film is a head-turning and striking first impression if you missed Noel’s single season on Saturday Night Live four years ago.  As aforementioned with a passion project like this, you beg and wonder how autobiographical a wild story like this has to be.  No matter if it’s true or entirely created, the appreciation measures the heavily positive same.  The jokes come from all angles and hit with every effect from belly laugh to full cringe.

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CAPSULE REVIEWS: The 53rd Chicago International Film Festival

The 53rd Chicago International FIlm Festival brings over 1,000 films of all genres and sizes to our fair city.  There are premieres aplenty, between those making their world, North American, or Chicago debuts.  Opening with a red carpet premiere of Marshall, peaking with the centerpiece of Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird, and closing with the Oscar contender The Shape of Water from Guillermo del Toro, the 53rd CIFF fills the AMC River East 21 for two weeks.  For the fourth year in a row, Every Movie Has a Lesson has been granted press credentials to cover the CIFF and here are my capsule reviews.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Liquid Truth

The discolored and dingy tile grout at the bottom of a swimming pool and the imagery effect of rippling water seen under the surface bending the images above perspective starkly symbolize the many warped dimensions of Liquid Truth.  The truth in the title is as slippery as the water in director Caroline Jabor’s simmering social commentary.  The film may be foreign from Brazil, but it typifies all too many social media ills that would explode in a parallel fashion here in this country.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Goodbye Christopher Robin

Simon Curtis’ Goodbye Christopher Robin is a cinematic quilt collecting experiences from many different narrative themes.  A few patches carry the pattern of biographical films, chronicling life’s highlights and lowlights within a well-to-do family and their hired caretaker.  Others carry the created images of a writer’s world-building legend.  The threads binding those quilt pieces are a woven blend of the barbed wire of post-traumatic stress disorder and the smoothly silken cords of childhood whimsy. The experience of snuggling up with the Goodbye Christopher Robin blanket of testimony and memories is as affectingly dramatic as it is comfortably warm.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Chasing the Blues

Chasing the Blues is a dark comedy through and through.  Director Scott Smith and his co-writer Kevin Guifoile crafted an engaging yarn of hijinks and hilarity.  Their narrative might feel like something out of a Coen brothers rough draft, but this film sides with a far less gonzo approach that suits its shrewder stature.  Like the musical genre at its core, patient storytelling is at the forefront.  Could it use a stiffer punch or two?  Maybe, but then it wouldn’t be the blue and not everything has to be shock cinema.  Waiting for the payoff in this tidy 77-minute film is an easy and worthwhile short hike to climb.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Marshall

Can you learn about a popular band by listening to their B-sides instead of their greatest hits?  Can you get a sense of the brilliance within a writer from their early drafts and not their published masterpieces?  Can you spot the traits of a future Hall of Fame sports legend solely by their work in college or the minor leagues before the professional ranks?  The answer to each is quite likely the same: sometimes, but not always.  Tally one in the sometimes column for  Reginald Hudlin’s Marshall and its biographical podium choice.

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MOVIE REVIEW: Lucky

In each winsome second, Lucky continuously unearths affecting ways of making cantankerous endearing.  With grizzled resolve and humor as dry as the desert he walks in, the late Harry Dean Stanton personifies the charm culled from the crotchety put on display in John Carroll Lynch’s straight-shooting film.  Far from any Grumpy Old Men folly and possessing a hidden heart twice the size of Alexander Payne’s Nebraska, meet a lovable unlovable asshole that flourishes to galvanize unexpected wholesomeness from the prickliest of cacti.

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