“When I saw Gummi Bears was our secret ingredient … I wasn’t thinking science.” Logan Lucky

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Steven Soderbergh’s directorial return Logan Lucky is no Hell or High Water (not sure much could be), but it is a capable new entry in a genre I can only think to dub “21st Century tragicomedies of the American marginalized.” Both films (and others like them – Nightcrawler comes to mind; heck, one could argue Soderbergh’s first Magic Mike too) take an almost Dickensian view of modern America, where satire and melodrama meet, showing the ramshackle desperation of the economically sidelined, and where criminal misdeeds are a logical course correction for those lost in a soulless system that prizes cash over humanity.

Channing Tatum continues to turn a blind eye himself toward commerce by taking one oddball role after another. He stars as Jimmy Logan, a divorced but devoted papa whose life began and ended on the football field, a failed quarterback who placed his faith in the white hot hyperbole of American high school only to make the sad realization in his real-world 30s that indeed his sh*t does stink after all. He’s saddled both with a knee injury that keeps him from gainful employment and with a lovably deadpan one-armed crackpot brother Clyde (Adam Driver, light years from the slithering petulance of Star Wars‘ villain Kylo Ren) who keeps him from sanity. Clyde is convinced the family is cursed (hence the ironic “lucky” in the title), and all evidence does tend to support his conclusion.

The two brothers plot an “Ocean’s 7-11” (the film’s description, not mine) take-down of the Charlotte Motor Speedway – a Rube Goldberg-esque scheme to tap into the pneumatic tubes funneling cash from one tacky elephant ear and t-shirt vendor after another underground into the NASCAR’s institution’s vault. Jimmy’s idea of researching this plan? “I looked it up on ‘the google.'” Logan sister Mellie (an impishly sullen Riley Keough, Lisa Marie Presley’s daughter finally evidencing genuine talent in that family’s DNA) is a tacky hairstylist by day, getaway driver by night, and she helps the boys stay on track in their shaggy scheme.

As the overly episodic flick unspools, the Logans’ rogues’ gallery expands to include safe-cracking and explosives expert (on-the-nose-named) Joe Bang, a wonderfully daffy Daniel Craig, happily jettisoning his sleek Bond-James-Bond glower. “When I saw Gummi Bears was our secret ingredient [for  Joe’s homemade munitions], I wasn’t thinking about science,” Jimmy observes ruefully as their plot kicks into high gear.

Joe insists on the involvement of his two lights-are-on-but-no-one-is-home brothers Sam (Brian Gleeson, son of Brendan Gleeson) and Fish (Jack Quaid, son of Randy Quaid and Meg Ryan). Gleeson and Quaid do fine, broadly comic work, but their Hee-Haw-grade depictions of two educationally challenged Southerners are a bit of a disservice to the more finely calibrated lampooning from the balance of the cast.

A veritable Cannonball Run‘s worth of guest stars sashay through the film, to varying degrees of success. Dwight Yoakam, as a lazy but controlling prison warden, and Katie Holmes, as Jimmy Logan’s gum snapping ex, fare best in underwritten parts. Sebastian Stan (Captain America: Winter Soldier) and Katherine Waterston (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them) have spark in blink-and-you’ll-miss-them roles as a fussy NASCAR driver and a warmhearted charity clinic doc respectively. Hilary Swank is nails-on-a-chalkboard grating as a robotic FBI agent assigned to the case, and an unrecognizable Seth MacFarlane (thank goodness for him, I guess) draws the short-straw in the Dom DeLuise scenery-chewing punching bag slot.

Dropped to a lean 90 minutes, this two hour enterprise would have been a breezy hoot (and a likely blockbuster). As with most of  Soderbergh’s films, however, it rambles past a clear-cut denouement into overstaying-its-welcome territory. Swank’s entire subplot should have hit the cutting room floor and stayed there. There is something essential that films like this can (and should) say about the human condition in America, about whole swaths of people left behind as Wall Street soldiers on. Unfortunately, as good as this film is (and it is a sharp-eyed assessment of economic disparity), it never quite reaches the dizzying heights of a film that makes you laugh to keep from crying. As the last point on Jimmy Logan’s fool proof heist plan states, “Hang up and know when to walk away.”

______________________________

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

“This is the last day we will be this young.” Girls Trip

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Girls Trip is so bawdy and raucous and, yes, delightful that it makes Bridesmaids look like Anne of Green Gables. Yet, there is something more significant than jaw-dropping raunch in the shared DNA of these two films. (And isn’t it troubling and a little sad that we are still comparing any ribald comedy featuring a group of female friends to one admittedly wonderful flick from six years ago? For every one Bridesmaids or Girls Trip, there are about 48 more gross-out comedies featuring men, and those don’t all get compared to The Hangover.)

No, what brings these two films together – Girls Trip and Bridesmaids – is heart and humanity but, most especially, the thrilling audacity to critique patriarchy and to celebrate female agency and intelligence through the cinematic hook of unrepentant madcap naughtiness.

Such a shame that there aren’t more movies like that. “It’s a hoot,” as one satirically out-of-touch business executive observes when Girls Trip‘s leads derail a televised cooking show midway through the film, but, dammit, if she isn’t right.

Portraying the “Flossy Posse,” a quartet of old college buddies whose wit is only superseded by their moxie is an A-team of crackerjack comic talent: Queen Latifah (Chicago, Bringing Down the House, Beauty Shop), Jada Pinkett Smith (Gotham, Set It Off), Regina Hall (Scary Movie), and deliciously scene-stealing Tiffany Haddish (Keanu).

As only movie “logic” can represent, the friends have pursued wildly divergent careers: celebrity gossip blogger, clinician, self-help guru, and businesswoman (respectively). The fact that this sitcom setup works as well as it does is a testament to this foursome’s talents as well as to Malcolm D. Lee’s smoothly effervescent direction and blackish‘s duo Kenya Barris’ and Tracy Oliver’s empathetic and intuitive script. The initial scenes depicting each of the four leads in their daily lives crackle with comic tension and a heightened but lovely reality.

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Hall’s character Ryan Pierce is on the fast-track to superstardom, aided and abetted by her hunky former pro-football player husband Stewart, as portrayed with just the right balance of glitz and menace by Mike Colter (The Good Wife, Luke Cage). She is invited to offer the keynote speech at the Essence Music Festival in New Orleans at the same time a large discount retailer is courting her and her husband to launch a lifestyle line of clothing and household goods. (Yes, I know this sounds ridiculous. It is. And the movie knows this too. Thank goodness.) Ryan decides to invite her buddies to join her for, you guessed it, a “girls trip” to counteract the fact that they’ve all grown apart over the past few years, and the foursome boards a plane and head to New Orleans. As Ryan tells the group, “This is the last day we will be this young.”

Pretty quickly, they all realize that the picture perfect lives they purport to lead are all kind of a mess, and, through the course of a their long weekend (and some truly audacious comic set pieces I can’t even begin to describe here), they reclaim the people they once were. If you aren’t choked up when Hall finally delivers that keynote and talks about the dreams and hopes she had as an individual back in college and how life and her rocky marriage have derailed her from being her most authentic self, well, you’ve got a heart of stone. Or you are under 40.

[ADDENDUM: Susanna Leonard noted on LinkedIn: Bone picking: ‘Or you’re under 40’ – I promise you, women in their 30s can identify quite well with losing the dreams of their college-years. I finished college almost 15 years ago… I think I get it.” Right on, Susanna – I stand corrected. I was viewing strictly from the POV of a 40-something – the exact age of the film’s characters, in fact – and that was wrong. I appreciate that you took the time to read and to comment.]

On its surface, Girls Trip is just a sassy, raunchy summer night at the movies, and, on that level alone, it will be quite a crowd-pleaser. However, the depth of love and anger roiling underneath the surface of these women’s 25-year-long friendship has an authenticity and relatability seldom captured in this genre of film.

Haddish is the nuclear bomb in their midst. Forgive me yet another Bridesmaids comparison, but she is the Melissa McCarthy who swipes the picture away yet somehow remains a consummate ensemble player, elevating everyone to a higher level of performance. She is the quartet’s trickster and its broken/beating heart, who blithely ignores bad news and good advice and emerges victorious in any situation. She is a revelation.

But, then so is Smith – I’d forgotten what an actor she can be. Yes, she can play the anarchic spitfire in her sleep. (Her crime boss Fish Mooney was the only reason to watch Gotham – if there were an Emmy for “best use of lacquered fingernails,” she’d have ten.) And I tire of watching her and husband Will walk the red carpet as if they just descended from Mount Olympus. So, I had my doubts when I realized she was playing the requisite frumpy fuddy duddy in the group. She is a wonder in the part, rediscovering the impish joys of her youth, yet never devolving into self-indulgent clowning and always retaining the anxious, caring core of her character. When she proudly emerges with four bedazzled denim vests for her pals to wear on their trip and is told dismissively by the others that her sartorial efforts look like they belong to “the My Little Pony motorcycle club,” her hurt is as palpable as the line is glibly funny.

Queen Latifah is the only cast member who seems a bit lost amidst the shenanigans. Her character is faced with mounting debts and a failed career, and there is a melodramatic tension introduced at the midpoint between her character and Hall’s. It doesn’t completely work, but it certainly doesn’t hurt the picture either. Consequently, Latifah is forced to react knowingly to the broader bits Smith and Haddish get to explore and carry the maudlin moments when the quartet have their predictable (though really well played) final act meltdown. Latifah typically has such a presence, and, in Girls Trip, she ends up being a bit of a background player. In the inevitable sequel, maybe she’ll regain her edgy footing.

So grab thee a cosmo and a bag of popcorn and your best pals, and head over to the cinema posthaste for a weekend on the town with these screwball comediennes of the 21st century. They are a hoot.

__________________________

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

“If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.” Baby Driver

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Increasingly, we seem like a society of hermits, coexisting in our own separate little digital bubbles – a self-enforced solitude sparked either by anxiety or exhaustion or a combination thereof. We interact with each other via screens and emojis and Snapchat filters and snarky GIFs … but we never truly connect.

Maybe I’m just a cranky old man, but I’m fascinated and annoyed by how many people I see grocery shopping, commuting, eating lunch, and so on without ever removing their ubiquitous iPhone earbuds, as if the most mundane activities must all be accompanied by one’s own personal soundtrack or as if to signify to any and all passers-by, “I am not someone who wants to speak to you, to interact with you, or to acknowledge your existence.”

And it is with this conceit that Baby Driver, the latest opus from gonzo director Edgar Wright (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, World’s End), turns the genres of both the movie musical and the car chase thriller on their respective ears. Literally.

In the titular role of “Baby,” Ansel Elgort (The Fault In Our Stars, Divergent, Carrie) takes full advantage of his pouty good looks – which veer from insolence to wonderment and back again – and of his overgrown puppy dog 6’4″ frame to portray a Millennial whose tortured childhood has led him to a life of a crime as the supremely gifted getaway driver for a smooth-talking, Teflon-coated Atlanta crime boss (a delightfully Yuppified Kevin Spacey).

You see, Baby suffers from tinnitus, acquired as a wee lad in a horrific car accident when his squabbling parents squabbled just a bit too much and neglected to see they were about to ram into the back of a semi. And music – as supplied by a suitcase full of old iPods – is the only thing that soothes his ringing ears (and aching heart).

Furthermore, his love of vintage pop, rock, and jazz helps him escape the personal horror that is chauffeuring Spacey’s gang of sociopaths, which includes a magnificently bonkers Jon Hamm (Million Dollar ArmMad Men) and a less magnificently/more annoyingly bonkers Jamie Foxx (Django Unchained, Annie), from heist to heist. Baby, as portrayed in a star-making turn by Elgort, is nearly mute (by choice) and rarely removes his headphones (nor his sunglasses) which irritates just about every Gen Xer/Baby Boomer in his immediate orbit.

What aggravates them even further is that, shielded as he is in his own little tune-filled universe, he is savvier, is a more skilled driver, and is more in command of the details in his environment than all of Spacey’s goons put together. It’s a sly commentary on the evolution/devolution we see generationally in America today.

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Similar to Bjork’s Selma in Lars von Trier’s brilliant Dancer in the Dark, Baby’s world is a seamless auditory marvel as day-to-day sounds and movements morph into musical cues he hears through his headphones and vice versa. The car chases (aplenty) are all choreographed to the tunes in Baby’s head, often to the chagrin – and bodily harm – of his passengers. (Baby even turns on windshield wipers in time to the music, when there isn’t a drop of precipitation in the sky.)

The novelty of Baby Driver is in Wright’s direction and staging, if not so much in the plot itself. Perhaps predictably, Baby is a gangsta with a heart of gold, saving what cash he can from his jobs to care for his deaf foster father (portrayed with great affection by CJ Jones) who is confined to a wheelchair. As cloying as that plot detail sounds, it actually is quite affecting and grounds the movie nicely. Baby meets cute with a sunny waitress named Debora, portrayed by a luminous Lily James (Cinderella), and, in turn, Baby plots his (of course) doomed escape from a life of crime.

Things don’t go easily for Baby (nor should they), and the film’s final act gets a bit too bloody for its own good. As a Dolly Parton-quoting postal worker foreshadows to Baby when, unbeknownst to her, he is casing her workplace for an upcoming robbery, “The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.”

Nonetheless, Baby Driver is a high-octane summer blast, with choreography that would make Gene Kelly swoon (albeit involving a rogues’ gallery of classic cars and rat-a-tat machine guns) and with a soundtrack to die for. Any film that manages to incorporate Blur’s quirky “Intermission” into an ominous set-piece, that can use Dave Brubek’s “Unsquare Dance” to make a routine coffee run seem Fosse-esque,  and that can find a way of making Young MC seem hip again is ok in my book.

It’s only a shame that Wright didn’t just go ahead and have his thugs burst into outright song – I mean he has hammy-a$$ singers Spacey, Foxx, and Elgort, not to mention Paul Williams (!) in his cast. At times, Baby Driver seems like more of a musical than La La Land did. Maybe a movie mash-up of Guys and Dolls and The Fast and the Furious is next on Wright’s cinematic agenda. If so, I’ll be there.

______________

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

Ann Arbor Summer Festival: Colin Mochrie & Brad Sherwood – Scared Scriptless Tour

Like the old E.F. Hutton commercials, when Rebecca Biber speaks, everybody listens. Or, more appropriately, when my musically gifted pal Rebecca Biber invites you to attend a local arts and culture event, you go because she has lovely, free-thinking, quirky taste that is always spot on.

Rebecca and I bonded over the years, performing together in a number of local productions, but our friendship has transcended the generally ephemeral “summer camp” nature of most casts (“I’ll write you! I promise! We’ll be best friends foreeeeeverrrrr!!”). She’s even contributed a time or two to this blog right here … when she thought my take on a particular film might have been a bit misguided. Now, that‘s a strong friendship.

So, per Rebecca’s recommendation, off we went arm-in-arm this past Saturday night to Ann Arbor’s Power Center to view an Ann Arbor Summer Fest performance by improv comics Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood. The duo is arguably best known for their work on ABC’s comedy game show Whose Line Is It Anyway? hosted by Drew Carey, adapted from the original BBC series, and running from the late 90s through the early 00s. The show was recently revived … yet again … on the CW, with Aisha Tyler as its host and many of the same cast members.

[Dropping some knowledge, courtesy of Wikipedia: “The title of the show itself is a comedic riposte to another radio show that moved to television, What’s My Line, merged with the title of a 1972 teleplay (and eventual theatrical play) Whose Life Is It Anyway?“]

Confessional: I don’t much care for improv comedy. It always seems rather half-a**ed and much funnier to the performers than it is to the audience, like observing self-indulgent, marginally witty children sweatily play in the backyard. I also rarely watched the tv show in any of its incarnations, though, admittedly, when I did, I thought the performers displayed an impish sparkle and zany glee that transcended any quibbles I had with the genre.

I’m happy to report, that, on the whole, Rebecca’s recommendation as well as my heretofore superficial appreciation of the Whose Line cast were validated by Saturday’s show.

Mochrie and Sherwood’s “Scared Scriptless” (cute name) show runs a brisk 90 minutes. (The older I get, sometimes, that is the only selling point I need.) It is a warmly, lovingly shaggy mess of around half a dozen “improv games” (don’t worry – that phrase usually turns by blood to water too) that involve audience members, both onstage and through solicited topics/suggestions.

As I understand, many of these games were also played as part of the TV program, so longtime fans will be greatly rewarded by “sound effects” (two audience members supply silly noises in audio accompaniment to the onstage shenanigans), “confessional” (wherein Sherwood has to confess to a fictitious crime by guessing via a series of increasingly absurd clues what Mad Libs-style topics the audience has given Mochrie), and “puppets” (whereby two audience members maneuver Mochrie and Sherwood about the stage in reaction to their Looney Tunes repartee). It is a testament to the duo, who have been touring for fourteen years, that these exercises remained fresh and joy-filled. Sherwood particularly seemed to take great delight in the audience interaction and the comedic challenges placed before him, say, when he and Mochrie were forced to traverse blind-folded and barefooted across a mouse-trap strewn stage telling a story where each of their exchanged lines had to begin with a subsequent letter of the alphabet.

My favorite segment, though, involved Sherwood and Mochrie inventing lyrics to a randomly selected popular tune within the context of a particular scenario (for some reason they lived in a place called “Needlepoint Land,” but them’s-the-nonsensical-breaks with improv). Mochrie ably demonstrated that he is no songsmith, but Sherwood was a revelation, with a strong musical comedy voice and a jaw-dropping ability to invent clever, bizarre, and authentically funny rhyming lyrics on-the-spot. Loved. That.

If these sweet-natured, good-hearted improv clowns find their way to a town near you, give them a shot. Sit in the balcony, as we did, if you want to avoid getting yanked onstage and being forced to honk like a goose or to sing a Beatles ditty. Oh, and if Rebecca Biber suggests you check out a certain entertainer or show, go do it. You won’t be sorry!

______________

Save The Date! August 28 at West Bloomfield’s Berman Center for the Performing Arts: Encore Michigan’s 2017 Wilde Awards will celebrate the best and brightest that Michigan theatre has to offer!  “Publisher David Francis Kiley and actor Roy Sexton will co-host the award show.” Yeah. You read that correctly. Heaven help us all. More info here.

“We had another remarkable season of wonderful performances, new scripts, touring shows, and it all makes the voting extremely difficult,” says Kiley. “It’s difficult every year, and there is a lot of debate among the critics after we have scored each show that we review for technical and artistic expression. … There are going to be many improvements to the show. The entertainment is going to knock people’s socks off, and the award show aspect is going to nip along at a faster pace. We are making sure there is more adequate bar service, which was a bit of a problem in 2016. This is going to be a show that not only the industry is going to want to come to, but theater lovers. It’s going to be a fun, fun night.”

And, if all else fails, apparently there will be better bar service. 🙂

______________

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

#Drood: “The Audience Will Decide ‘Whodunit’ at ‘The Mystery of Edwin Drood'”

The suspects

From Ann Arbor District Library’s Pulp article “The Audience Will Decide ‘Whodunit’ at The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Hugh Gallagher …

“In the second half of the show, the audience votes on who is the detective, who murdered Edwin Drood, and who the lovers are at the end and each ending is slightly different,” Mystery of Edwin Drood director Ron Baumanis said. “To keep it entertaining and move it along each of the suspects, and there are eight of them, have to know even different endings to the show. We are rehearsing each suspect with several different people and then switching to another suspect. They’re really good; we have a top-notch cast. I’m very fortunate.”

And we feel the same about you, wonderful  Ron! 

Move-in day at The Lydia Mendelssohn

Thanks to Ann Arbor District Library‘s Pulp and Hugh Gallagher for this lovely coverage!

“I hope it drives people to read Dickens’ novella because it’s fantastic stuff. I was very interested in what he thought about these characters,” said Baumanis. “Two, I want them to leave saying it was really professional and they usually do. I want them to say that was a slick show and I want to come back to another show. Three, I hope they enjoy it, not your typical show after work but they are part of it.”

READ MORE: “The Audience Will Decide ‘Whodunit’ at The Mystery of Edwin Drood” at http://pulp.aadl.org/node/360350

 

_____________________

Sneak peek of the scenic design

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

 

Portrait of Rosa … and her many “admirers”

Exhausted, incredibly supportive production team


Setting the stage …

“Thank God you’re pretty.” Baywatch (2017 film)

The first third of the film adaptation of TV’s Baywatch seems designed chiefly to show off how impressive Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s calves are. Admittedly, they do look like two bowling balls suspended in mid-air between his ankles and his knees. THIS remarkable feat of anatomy, however, does not a great movie make.

Directed by Seth Gordon (um … Identity Thief), the film aspires to the same pop culture meta lunacy of 21 Jump Street, Charlie’s Angels, or The Brady Bunch Movie. Unfortunately, the proceedings are saddled with a pedestrian script that is more paint-by-numbers Beverly Hills Cop III than off-the-charts self-referential foolishness. And that’s a shame, as Gordon has assembled a cast that could sell hyperbole to President Trump.

Johnson and Zac Efron are an ADORABLE comedic couple, and they deserve MUCH better material (see: Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling in The Nice Guys). Their repartee (not to mention gleaming teeth and pneumatic abs) powers through the pedestrian material (drug cartel, half-baked political shenanigans, police corruption) to keep the audience entertained well beyond all reason. These two (playing overly ambitious California lifeguards who think their jobs involve after hours police work – cute idea) deserved such a better script, for their personal training regimen alone, not to mention the wit and wisdom both bring to just about any project.

The supporting cast is a hoot too: Priyanka Chopra, preening and prancing as the underdeveloped “big bad;” Kelly Rohrbach more self-aware than required as the Pamela Anderson-comic relief; Alexandra Daddario (whose eyes could pierce concrete blocks) as Efron’s infinitely wiser love interest; Ilfenesh Hadera as The Rock’s endlessly patient lieutenant; and Jon Bass as the exuberant schlub who has somehow been asked to join their hard-bodied lifeguarding team.

Damn, but I wish they had all had a thoughtfully designed script. Hell, any script. I was entertained for 90 minutes, but I’ve completely forgotten already what plot if any existed. I remember Zac Efron’s highlighted hair and his Malibu Ken physique. I will never forget Dwayne Johnson’s megawatt smile shining beneath the tumultuous waves as he rescued one woebegone Cali beach swimmer after another. But the plot? That has already escaped my brain, even as I type.

Will you have a good time watching this cinematic Baywatch? Of course, you will. It’s the same mindless idiocy of the 1990s syndicated TV hit (David Hasselhoff even puts in yet ANOTHER unnecessary summer ’17 film appearance) with a heaping, helping of post-millennial wink-and-nod camp. I just wish the filmmakers had taken … oh, I don’t know … ten extra minutes? … to devise plot and dialogue that gave Johnson and Efron something to do with all the charisma (and biceps) that they have in spades. Would anybody like to stage Sam Shepard’s True West with two charmingly steroidal hunks? If so, I think I have your duo.

As one cast member (I can’t recall who now for the life of me) notes to Efron’s dim bulb former-Olympian character (a la Ryan Lochte), “Thank God you’re pretty.” Indeed.

_____________________

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

#Drood sitzprobe … or the day the orchestra joins us (VIDEO)

“Both Sides of the Coin” with yours truly and the inimitable Jared Hoffert.

Enjoy these video clips from today’s Mystery of Edwin Drood “sitzprobe” (or fancy German word for first rehearsal with the full orchestra). Click and any/all of the clips below, or view the full playlist here. Special thanks to music director Daniel Bachelis for making all of us sound so darn good! He’s a marvel! And this cast? … Just simply the best!

“Moonfall” with Kimberly Elliott

 

“Moonfall Quartet” with Sarah Sweeter, Kimberly Elliott, Becca Nowak, and Heather Wing

 

“Wages of Sin” with Alisa Mutchler-Bauer

 

“A British Subject” with Vanessa Banister, Kimberly Elliott, Brodie Brockie, Brandon Cave, and Becca Nowak

 

“Perfect Strangers” with Kimberly Elliott and Vanessa Banister

 

“Never the Luck” with Michael Cicirelli

 

“Settling  Up the Score” with Alisa Mutchler-Bauer and Vanessa Banister

 

“The Writing on the Wall” with  Vanessa Banister

 

Ann Arbor Civic Theatre presents the hilarious audience-solves-the-murder musical, Rupert Holmes’ The Mystery of Edwin Drood, June 1, 7:30p, June 2 and 3, 8:00p, June 4, 2:00p at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre. Tickets can be purchased at http://www.a2ct.org/shows/the-mystery-of-edwin-drood.

And please join our Drood Facebook event page here for ongoing updates/reminders.

The musical concerns a troupe of players at an English Music Hall putting on a musical production of Charles Dickens’ last novel which, alas, he died before completing. It is up to the audience to vote and decide who the murderer, detective, and the evenings lovers will be. Every performance features a different ending based on the audience vote, and is an evening of smartly written, very funny entertainment for all ages. Drood won 5 Tony Winning and 9 Drama Desk awards in 1986, and recently had a revival on Broadway which garnered raves. The musical was originally produced by the Joseph Papp New York Shakespeare Festival in New York’s Central Park. Parents should be aware that there is a light smattering of late 1800’s colorful British language.

[Enjoy this inaugural edition of The London Gazette, published by Aaron C. Wade.]

All performers in the 19-member cast play dual roles — those of performers at the Music Hall, and the characters they become “on stage” for the staging of the novel. Jared Hoffert is the evening’s Chairperson. Drood (a male impersonator) is played by Vanessa Banister. Evil Jasper is played by Roy Sexton. Love interest Rosa Bud is played by Kimberly Elliott. Brother/sister Neville and Helena are played by Brandon Cave and Becca Nowak. Brodie Brockie plays the Reverend Crisparkle, Michael Cicirelli is Bazzard, and Alisa Mutchler Bauer plays the mysterious Princess Puffer while Durdles is played by Jimmy Dee Arnold. The cast is rounded out by Peter Dannug, Sarah Sweeter, Heather Wing, Julia Fertel, Ashleigh Glass, Chris Joseph, Kari Nilsen and Kelly Wade. There is a mysterious guest appearance by Ch. Brady Cesaro.

Directed by award-winning Ron Baumanis (Bonnie & Clyde, The Wedding Singer, next to normal), musical directed by Daniel Bachelis (who also conducts the full orchestra), and choreographed by Debra Calabrese (Croswell Opera House’s Memphis, In The Heights). Designed by Ron Baumanis, Lighting Design by Thom Johnson, Sound Design by Bob Skon, Costume Design by Molly Borneman, properties designed by Aaron Wade. Produced by Wendy Sielaff.

 

_____________________

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

This. Is. Fun. #Drood

The cast of Drood

 

Love. This. Cast. (Photos by Aaron C. Wade. Swiping from Ron Baumanis. Get your tix NOW at www.a2ct.org – June 1-4)

 

Alisa Mutcher Bauer as Princess Puffer and Kimberly Elliott as Rosa Bud


We are having a ball. You will too. Don’t miss it.

 

Yours truly as Jasper and Kimberly Elliott as Rosa Bud

 

Jasper is nuts and Rosa seems innocent enough. Did one of them murder Edwin Drood? Solve the mystery yourself at The Mystery of Edwin Drood – Ann Arbor Civic Theatre – http://www.A2CT.org/tickets

#EveryAudienceVoteCounts

 

Vanessa Bannister as Edwin Drood

 

Jared Hoffert as The Chairman

 

Layout by JM Atwood – all photos here and above by Aaron C. Wade

More info on JM Atwood at his design studio’s Facebook page

_________________

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

“A club of individuals” – my mom and I appear with Terry Doran and Patty Hunter on “Patty’s Page” (Allen County Public Library TV)

Enjoy this freewheeling hour of my mother Susie Duncan Sexton and me alongside Terry Doran and Patty Hunter on “Patty’s Page” (Allen County Public Library TV). 

We discuss art and animals, free expression and individuality, writing versus authorship, movies, Columbus (Ohio!), advocacy and storytelling, as well as upcoming events including the May 9 grand opening of the Historic Blue Bell Lofts (dress code: blue jeans!) in Columbia City, Indiana, and my upcoming appearance June 1-4 in The Mystery of Edwin Drood with Ann Arbor Civic Theatre in Ann Arbor, Michigan. 

Special thanks to lovely producer Bob Hunter for all his glorious behind-the-scenes work and to my dad Don Sexton for the off-camera commentary.

View here: https://youtu.be/odbivWmG6J8


Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital). In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan. My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.

“Life doesn’t give you seat belts.” The LEGO Batman Movie

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

“Everything is (almost) awesome” in The LEGO Batman Movie, a spinoff from the 2014 surprise critical and box office hit The LEGO Movie. While LEGO Batman never quite achieves the warmhearted, dizzyingly progressive whimsy of its predecessor, it compensates with a bonkers absurdity that wouldn’t have been misplaced in a Road Runner cartoon.

Will Arnett returns to gravelly-voice the titular anti-hero, a Trump-esque (by way of Alec Baldwin) billionaire egomaniac whose idea of a good time is fighting (alone) an endlessly looped (and loopy) war on crime where the criminals never actually get locked up and the Batman soaks up a debatably earned shower of community accolades.

Arnett is a one-note hoot, and the filmmakers (director Chris McKay working with a mixed grab-bag of screenwriters Seth Grahame-Smith, Chris McKenna, Erik Sommers, Jared Stern, and John Whittington) wisely supplement his singular focus with a sweet-natured supply of supporting characters.

Cast MVPs include a sparklingly feminist Rosario Dawson as Barbara Gordon (later dubbed “Batgirl,” who quips to Arnett, “Does that make you BatBOY, then?”), a gleefully earnest and utterly over-caffeinated Michael Cera as Dick Grayson (relishing every glimmering, discofied sequin of his admittedly peculiar but comic book accurate “Robin” costume), and a dry-as-a-martini Ralph Fiennes as Bruce Wayne/Batman’s dutiful, shaken-but-not-stirred majordomo Alfred Pennyworth.

Like The LEGO Movie (and just about any children’s movie made. ever.), The LEGO Batman Movie posits a primary thesis that family is everything, even if that family is made up of a collection of well-intentioned, mentally-suspect oddballs (so it’s a fact-based film). Arnett’s Batman comically resists any and all overtures by his friends (and enemies) to connect, collaborate, and love, driven in part by a lightly-touched-upon reference to Batman’s origins losing both of his parents to a gun-toting mugger in Gotham City’s aptly named “Crime Alley.” Alfred cautions Master Bruce, “You can’t be a hero if you only care about yourself.”

This sets up a tortured bromance between Batman and his (sometimes) chief nemesis The Joker, voiced with consummate crazed sweetness by an unrecognizable Zach Galifianakis. The Joker just wants Batman to acknowledge that they have a special bond, but the Dark Knight’s cuddly sociopathy prevents him from admitting that they truly need each other. “I don’t currently have a bad guy. I’m fighting a few different people. I like to fight around,” Batman dismisses a lip-quivering, weepy-eyed Joker.

The Joker then sets on a path to flip this script, bringing a spilled toybox rogues’ gallery of delightfully random villains (King Kong, Harry Potter‘s Voldemort, The Wicked Witch of the West and her Flying Monkeys, The Lord of the Rings’ Sauron, Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, Dr. Who‘s Daleks, Clash of the Titans‘ Medusa and Kraken, Jurassic Park‘s velociraptors, Dracula, Joe Dante’s cinematic Gremlins, and a bunch of glowing skeletons) to destroy Gotham City, reclaim Batman’s attention, and re-establish their dotingly dysfunctional affection for one another.

What made The LEGO Movie such fun was its childlike ability to (s)mash-up incongruous genres (and intellectual properties), much like little boys and girls do with their actual toy collections, wherein it might not be uncommon for Darth Vader, Lex Luthor, and Barbie to team up against Captain America, He-Man, and Papa Smurf. It was nice to see this bit of anarchic, cross-promotional foolishness continue from one film to another.

For middle-aged comic books buffs, there are Easter Eggs galore. We get obscure Batman villains rarely seen in print, let alone film (Calendar Man? Crazy Quilt? Zebra-Man?!). There is a SuperFriends house party, hosted by Superman (Channing Tatum’s adorably frat boy-ish take on the character continued from The LEGO Movie) at his “Fortress of (Not-So) Solitude” complete with a DJ-ing Wonder Dog, a groovy Martian “Dance”-hunter, and an “It’s a Small World”-esque conga line of Apache Chief, Black Vulcan, El Dorado, Samurai, and the Wonder Twins. Perhaps most impressively, The LEGO Batman Movie manages to telescope nearly 80 years of Bat-history (comics, television, film) into a handful of nifty and very funny montages, simultaneously justifying LEGO’s iconically cracked take on the character while honoring all that has come before.

Upon Robin’s first joy ride in a hot rod-drawn-on-the-back-of-a-Trapper-Keeper version of The Batmobile, Batman turns to him, with his nails-on-a-chalkboard growl, and warns, “Life doesn’t give you seat belts.” And that is likely the most important message in these LEGO movies. Life is going to hand you a lot of lemons, so use your imagination and your inherent sense of joy to keep things fulfillingly messy … and, along the way, feel free to pour lemonade over the heads of anyone who tries to make you follow their arbitrary rules. Make your own rules, and break them freely and often.

________________________________

From my personal collection. Yes, I’m nuts.

Reel Roy Reviews is now TWO books! You can purchase your copies by clicking here (print and digital).

In addition to online ordering at Amazon or from the publisher Open Books, the first book is currently is being carried by BookboundCommon Language Bookstore, and Crazy Wisdom Bookstore and Tea Room in Ann Arbor, Michigan and by Green Brain Comics in Dearborn, Michigan.

My mom Susie Duncan Sexton’s Secrets of an Old Typewriter series is also available on Amazon and at Bookbound and Common Language.