“Surrounded by the most vicious creatures on the planet: humans.” Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

 

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

[Image Source: Wikipedia]

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is to the “Harry Potter” cinematic universe what Captain America: The First Avenger is to the “Marvel” one. Bear with me here. In the obvious, both films are set in a golden-hued America of yesteryear where art deco glitter and workaday charm belie a dark societal underbelly of xenophobic, segregated bullying. In a more esoteric way, both films are surprising throwbacks to a slower paced, quieter, more subdued (escapist fantasy and overindulgent special effects notwithstanding) kind of film-making, where whimsy and poignancy meet and where heartbroken underdogs have their day.

I like cinema like that – Frank Capra, The Wizard of Oz, Howard Hawks, Saturday matinee cliffhangers, and so on, and even latter day homages like The Rocketeer or Dick Tracy. Modern audiences aren’t always sprung on this kind of retro storytelling – though Fantastic Beasts‘ box office returns seem to buck that trend.

J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter book series (and the movie adaptations) focused, in a Brit boarding school milieu, on young wizarding students overcoming adversity, championing inclusion, and saving the day. Goodbye, Mr. Chips meets The Once and Future KingA Separate Peace meets Bewitched. Directed by longtime series helmer David Yates, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them – a Harry Potter prequel of sorts that explores the American side of this magical world, nearly a century earlier (1926 to be exact) – is a different animal altogether (pun intended).

Newt Scamander (portrayed by Oscar-winner Eddie Redmayne with the same shaggy-dog, twitchy, social misfit schtick he employed in The Theory of Everything) is a Hogwarts dropout who has dedicated himself to rescuing, rehabilitating, and protecting the mythical, magical animals of this world, woebegone creatures that neither muggle nor wizard seem to treat with honor or respect. He ventures across the pond for mysterious reasons, and some of his furry and feathered friends escape his watchful eye to frolic in a Jazz Age Manhattan. Spirited hijinks ensue, with surprisingly genuine peril and minimal lowest-common-denominator slapstick. In fact, Redmayne frets that these runaway critters are now “surrounded by the most vicious creatures on the planet: humans.” If Al Gore and PETA collaborated on a Harry Potter backstory, I suspect it wouldn’t be too different from the screenplay J.K. Rowling crafted here. Again: ok by me.

Redmayne is joined by a fabulous rogues’ gallery of character actors:

  • Katherine Waterston, suggesting Maura Tierney’s introspective authority as a low-level American wizard cop;
  • Dan Fogler, the Putnam County Spelling Bee-Tony winner bringing limited comic relief as a sadsack “Non-Maj” and wannabe baker along for the ride;
  • Alison Sudol, breathily transfixing – a Marilyn Monroe with Jessica Chastain’s flint – as Waterston’s mind-reading sis;
  • Ezra Miller, delivering the film’s most refreshingly unsettling moments as a glowering, abused Jimmy Fallon doppelganger (with an Oliver Cromwell haircuit) concealing a deep, dark secret;
  • Samantha Morton, always so ethereally captivating, this time as an ominous, muckraking evangelical;
  • Jon Voight, another great presence, when not getting tripped up by his own politics, ironically cast as a William Randolph Hearst-ish proto-Trump;
  • Carmen Ejogo, stately and evocative as the president of American wizarding society, tangled  in her own bureaucratic machinations;
  • Ron Perlman, nearly unrecognizable as an  Edward G. Robinson-ish mobster troll (literally, a troll), who runs muscle and intel from the murky corners of a Grimms’ fairy tale speakeasy;
  • And Colin Farrell, arguably the best of the bunch, having an understated field day, full of stylish gravitas, as Newt’s chief nemesis, maneuvering chess pieces to ignite a race war between wizards and humans.

Unlike other entries in the Harry Potter canon, Fantastic Beasts unfolds less like a picaresque and more like a candy-colored potboiler. (Technicolor noir?) Why is Newt in America? What is the political endgame for the various players introduced? Why is there such loathing and fear for these beautiful, mischievous creatures Newt hides and hauls around in a battered brown suitcase, a valise that magically hides a portal to Rowling’s version of the world’s grooviest “no-kill” shelter? By the film’s predictably cacophonous denouement (my only criticism), many answers are provided, but enough dangling threads are left to tee up (no doubt) another (very profitable) series of films. I think I’ll be packing my suitcase to tag along.

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[Image Source: Wikipedia]

[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.

My kind of movie star: Drew Barrymore’s Wildflower book tour at Ann Arbor’s Michigan Theater

Drew and Drew

Drew and Drew

Drew Barrymore is a special creation. The scion of an American acting dynasty as renowned for their craft as for their addictions. A Gen X phoenix who climbed from the ashes of a pre-TMZ/Perez Hilton (thank goodness) cocaine/disco-fueled death spiral to become America’s pop culture sweetheart.

A hippie goddess whose love of animals, the environment, and a Free to be You and Me socialist aesthetic she has magically transmuted into a flower power capitalist multimedia empire that includes films, cosmetics, books, and, yes, WalMart eyeglasses.

Oh, and she’s Steven Spielberg’s goddaughter.

Somehow it all makes perfect sense. Like an interesting second cousin you don’t actually know very well but whose life you’ve followed in an endless series of Christmas letters – a relative who seems older than their actual years because of the passing, near-mythic familiarity you have and whose every action seems simultaneously fascinating and mundane.

DrewI’ve had two occasions now to be in the divine Ms. Barrymore’s luminous presence. I was an extra for one marathon day of shooting on her Detroit-filmed 2009 directorial debut Whip It (a charming slice of roller derby women’s empowerment, criminally remembered only as a box office disappointment).

I was fortunate enough to land on the day Barrymore filmed the climactic roller derby battle, and every cast member (and what a cast!) was present: Ellen Page, Jimmy Fallon, Eve, Marcia Gay Harden, Kristen Wiig, Daniel Stern, and, yes, Juliette Lewis (who ended up being the sweetest, most generous of the bunch – who knew?). I was struck by Barrymore’s warmth and exuberance so late in a filming schedule.

Outside the Michigan

Outside the Michigan

She was as accommodating to us lowly extras as she was to her co-stars, and the esprit de corps was infectious, even when the carny band launched into an impromptu wrap party at 2 am. I was pretty spent at that point and wandered quietly away with fond yet foggy memories of a clutch of Hollywood movers and shakers who made Southeast Michigan their home for a summer.

(I did get a shout out from one of Whip It‘s producers tonight in the Michigan Theater lobby for wearing my well-loved/well-worn/dingy Whip It t-shirt. He exclaimed, “I didn’t even get one of those! Thanks for helping us out.” My pleasure!)

And tonight, six years later, Barrymore returned to the scene, reading from her new book of “stories” (autobiographical essays) Wildflower on the renowned Michigan Theater stage in Ann Arbor.

Wildflower ... autographed

Wildflower … autographed

Interviewed by a fellow “Drew” (Ann Arbor’s Drew Waller), Barrymore really needed no introduction or guide. Her boundless presence was a tonic – the word “authentic” was bandied nearly to the point of cliche … if it hadn’t been so darn true.

Her casual Cali vibe infused every anecdote and reading, but a steely tinge of “little girl lost” regret has always been a welcome counterpoint to her “Rainbow Bright” stage presence. It was evident tonight as well.

She spoke at length about the adoration and respect she has for longtime business partner Nan Juvonen (Jimmy Fallon’s wife and, for all intents, Barrymore’s surrogate mom).

She offered a glimpse of the wistful gratitude she has for her unconventional, tortured, charmed childhood; the topsy-turvy upbringing her sometimes-estranged mother Jaid gave Barrymore in a West Hollywood walk-up with only a sole avocado tree as her backyard.

Barrymore then gave us a quintessentially left-of-center take on her own parenting of daughters Olive and Frankie; she admitted a refreshing aversion to the other Hollywood mommies who sniff in her direction when not every meal she makes is “organic.”

Drew and Drew 2She confessed that she adores Adam Sandler (someone should … and he is at his best when he shares the screen with her, IMHO).

But she was at her most affecting when she described her lifelong love of animals – from the pack of three rescue dogs who lived with her through her tumultuous 20s and into her 30s (all passing relatively recently to much heartbreak in the Barrymore home) to her current canine adoptees Lucy and Douglas, a couple of characters who clearly bring great light to her life. She gushed that animals have taught her to love, unconditionally. When she looks in an animal’s eyes, she knows what true love can be.

Barrymore’s mantra? Live in the moment. Be kind. Be real.

Roy and John at Drew

Roy and John (and random friend)

And where was this most apparent? At least for us? When my cold-afflicted husband John, caught in a sneezing fit, received a very gracious “bless you” from a concerned Ms. Barrymore. She turned in her chair, looked lovingly in his general direction, and, with great concern, said, “I hope you feel better.” Later, when I was hustled through the manic autograph queue (seriously, she barely had time to look up at any of us – Motor City assembly line bench-marking?), she shouted after me, “Don’t worry about it! I’m covered in snot all day, every day.”

My kind of movie star.

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Roy at DrewReel 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 Bookbound, Common 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.