Thelma Adams: Novelist, Critic, Oscar Expert

Thelma Adams, Oscars, Playdate, Marie Claire, Movie Reviews, Interviews, New Releases, New York Film Critics, Celebrities, Personal Essays, Parenting, Commentary, Women, Women\'s Issues, Motherhood

MENUMENU
  • HOME
  • BOOKS
    • The Last Woman Standing
    • Playdate
    • Bittersweet Brooklyn
  • WRITINGS
  • MEDIA
  • EVENTS
  • BLOG
  • ABOUT
  • CONTACT

Movie Review: Gloria Bell

March 25, 2019 By Thelma 1 Comment

Props to Julianne Moore, 57, for producing an English-language remake of the uplifting 2013 Chilean film Gloria — which earned 19 international awards, a 99 percent Rotten Tomatoes rating and an AARP Movies for Grownups award nomination — helmed by the same talented director, Sebastian Lelio (whose transgender drama A Fantastic Woman grabbed the foreign-film Oscar last year). As the title character in Gloria Bell, stunning ginger beauty Moore dons big specs and strains to be an ordinary Orange County, Calif., divorced grandmother muddling through midlife. As if!

There is huge ambition here, reflecting the plight of Hollywood’s mature and most talented leading ladies as they search for material that will put them front and center, carrying the narrative arc they so richly deserve. Time and again — in the tragic early-Alzheimer’s drama Still Alice, for which she won the best actress Oscar in 2015, and the overlooked 2018 Bel Canto — Moore has sought roles that matched and amplified her unique talents: sharpness, grace, attention to detail, a bold desire to bare all and an iciness that would have made her, with a bottle of peroxide, an ideal Hitchcock heroine.

The hardest challenge for this extraordinary actress is playing ordinary and quotidian. Whether singing along to Olivia Newton John’s “A Little More Love” in her sensible sedan on the freeway or negotiating insurance claims in a nondescript modern office, Moore channels her inner awkwardness and vulnerability. At night, Gloria Bell tries to shed her self-consciousness and push away loneliness by going solo to a suburban disco, where she can surrender to the beats of her youth. At the bar she picks up Arnold (John Turturro, 62), an allegedly divorced ex-Marine. He can dance, and she likes where he leads, even if it’s only in circles under a disco ball. They tumble into bed for a series of encounters made all the more stiff by the actors’ lack of chemistry (they are old friends in real life, and that familiarity may have made the intimate scenes easier on the players, but for the viewer they’re hardly erotic).

The surrounding ensemble — led by Michael Cera as Gloria’s son; Brad Garrett, 58, as her larger-than-life ex-husband; Holland Taylor, 76, as her mother; and Jeanne Tripplehorn, 55, as her ex-husband’s wife — are top-notch. And it’s through Gloria’s interactions with these characters that the film addresses all-too-common problems for contemporary American women over 50 that go beyond dating and discos: the cloak of invisibility that can come after the kids are raised, the meaningful career long ago set aside, and the husband who has moved on to a younger wife and, perhaps, a new family.

In this carefully crafted character study, Moore sketches this woman who’s struggling to make a satisfying life with solo dinners, trying new things like zip-lining, and escaping to Las Vegas to capture true romance in the least authentic setting possible. The drama concludes with Laura Branigan’s 1980s anthem “Gloria,” as Moore’s divorcée finally dances to her own beat. While that moment is liberating, the strain of this extraordinary, luminous actress attempting to squeeze into a suburban shell pinches, leaving Moore still searching for her Hollywood groove.

[[This review first appeared on AARP]]

Filed Under: Movies & TV Tagged With: aarp, female-driven, Julianne Moore, Movies, Reviews

Why Tyler Perry Earns the Title of Hollywood’s Last Auteur

March 21, 2019 By Thelma Leave a Comment

Tyler Perry, the producer, writer, director and star, is the critical elephant in the room as Hollywood elites discuss diversity. With Tyler Perry’s A Madea Family Funeral, which had opened on March 1 for a $27M weekend and has amassed $60M in three weeks, his auteur career is far from finished – but the industry continues to bury him in an un-remarked grave.

Consider the sheer numbers of his output. Perry, 49, who also owns his own Atlanta-based studio, has produced 15 films with Lionsgate since 2005, starting with the 103-minute crowd-pleaser Diary of a Mad Black Woman. He has directed 21 features, written 15 and played the lead in 12.

The disconnect between audiences receptive to Perry’s mouthy cross-dressing matriarch who tells it like she sees it and his critical assessment is stark. His Rotten Tomatoes score for that first 2005 Madea outing was 16 percent rotten from 114 reviewers and, among audience members, 86 percent liked it.

“Perry doesn’t have any delusions of artistry, and potentially, at least, that’s refreshing,” said Stephanie Zacharek, who was then at Salon and now at Time. “But any points he earns for lack of pretense are immediately gobbled up by his lack of subtlety.”

Chiming in, the New York Post‘s Lou Lumenick was more succinct: “stay clear of this mess.”

Messy? Yes. But a profitable mess.

Since Madea’s feature debut, movies that Perry directed have grossed nearly a $1B nationally – with hardly a ripple in the global box office. He ranks 49 in the list of top-grossing directors at the domestic box office, and 92 in the top grossing domestic screenwriters. The average take of his sprawling comedies is $45M.

In 2011, Forbes Magazine ranked Perry the highest paid man in entertainment. Wow.

Over a decade ago, Diary of a Mad Black Woman, earned a cool $50.6 M despite opening eighth in theaters. In 2016, Boo! A Madea Halloween opened at number 2 and went on to gross $73M.

Reviews for the latter were a snark-fest, including this backhanded compliment from Jesse Hassenger at the AV Club: “Madea remains a distinctive, weirdly compelling character. Maybe someday Perry will make a good comedy for her.”

Perry has never won an Oscar but he did pick up a 2018 Razzie for worst actress in Boo 2! A Madea Halloween. He won some respite in 2019 from the group for his small role as Colin Powell in Academy darling Adam Mckay’s Vice, for which he earned the Redeemer Award.

So, he’s redeemed when he appears very low on the cast list in a white Oscar film – but not when he’s the lead in his own wacky yet popular movies. And, not only has he created a space where he can control his output by wearing many hats, he’s cast a number of African American leads when there were few opportunities available in mainstream films.

Starting with Perry’s first Madea outing, Kimberly Elise had a starring role with her own plot arc. He has cast a string of leading ladies including Angela Bassett, Gabrielle Union, Jurnee Smollett, Brandy, Viola Davis, Tasha Smith, Thandie Newton, Alfre Woodard, Mary J. Blige, Taraji P. Henson and Jill Scott, among many others. He built movies that were not only inclusive but empowering, creating opportunities and showcases for actresses that would go on to win Oscars.

Among actors, potential future 007 Idris Elba was a Perry star, as well as Blair Underwood, Louis Gossett Jr, Shemar Moore, Malik Yoba and Michael J. White.

From a storytelling standpoint, Perry’s movies seesaw from comedy to tragedy, cross-dressing farce to PG-13 romance and from melodramatic to evangelical. They’re not subtle. They shouldn’t work but the audiences that continue to attend Perry’s films and talk back to the screen in a communal call-and-response are beyond the sphere of the critics.

It’s easy to pick Perry’s films apart – but what holds them together? That’s something the industry needs to assimilate because Perry has planted his flag on a profitable shore of popular culture.

Hollywood is only belatedly, reluctantly recognizing the diversity of its audience — and only if it conforms to their preexisting notion of what defines Culture.

However, to quote Madea, “Mama don’t play.” Will Perry conform? Hell no! With this level of consistent success, the guy is doing something right in a major way. With a 16 score on RT, somebody’s missing the point – and it’s not Perry.

Filed Under: Movies & TV Tagged With: auteur, DGA, Diversity, Hollywood, Madea, Movies, Tyler Perry

Reality Bite for Steven Spielberg: Netflix Isn’t the Enemy, It’s Elitism

March 17, 2019 By Thelma Leave a Comment

Steven Spielberg’s post-Oscars aggressive mobilization demanding a four-week theatrical qualifying run for a movie to be eligible for Best Picture – with his sights on Netflix – really aggravates me. And not only because I think that the streamer’s Roma is a more authentic film than Spielberg has made in the past decade.

This has been a flashpoint and continuing source of heated discussion — and tweeting — ever since Spielberg, a governor of the Academy’s directors branch, expressed his controversial intention to lobby to revise Oscars eligibility rules at the upcoming Board of Governors meeting.

After winning three Oscars for Roma, Netflix tweeted: “We love cinema. Here are some things we also love: -Access for people who can’t always afford, or live in towns without, theaters -Letting everyone, everywhere enjoy releases at the same time -Giving filmmakers more ways to share art These things are not mutually exclusive.”

Netflix doesn’t need me to defend them. They have the righteous Director Ava DuVernay, who’s also used social media to voice her view @ava: “One of the things I value about Netflix is that it distributes black work far/wide. 190 countries will get WHEN THEY SEE US. Here’s a promo for South Africa. I’ve had just one film distributed wide internationally. Not SELMA. Not WRINKLE. It was 13TH. By Netflix. That matters. https://t.co/lpn1FFSfgG”

That does matter, Ava. Moreover, it’s significant that the industry’s embedded leaders may not be getting the message. I’m mad because when Spielberg and his cronies get their boxers in a twist and mobilize within their cloistered industry they choose self-interest and self-preservation.

Why should I be surprised?

News to the three-time Oscar winner Spielberg: there is nothing sacred about a theatrical release. It’s the stories and their connection to contemporary audiences that must be nurtured. That’s where the juice is. And that’s where the potential is to make positive change.

I would really love it if these powerful Hollywood kingmakers took all their clout, Academy cred, mentorship capability and ridiculous bags of money – and channeled that energy into the most crucial issue facing their industry today: inclusion.

I’m not asking these film folks to write checks to the Democratic Party. They already do that.

Just, please, don’t squander your outrage by planting your flag on this issue of theatrical releases.

Or, as The Black List founder Franklin Leonard tweeted: “It isn’t even about Netflix, though they’re the most visible and least sympathetic target. It’s about every other film and filmmaker who will struggle to get access to the resources necessary to make a film but not get those allowing for a four week exclusive theatrical release.”

Thank you, Mr. Leonard. This is the key point. Access to the means of movie production is the central struggle of this moment.

These viewpoints in support of a new economic model lead to my central question: has Spielberg taken as aggressive a stand defending gender parity or diversity as his outspoken rebuke to Netflix? Has he worked with other honchos to, for example, amass a $100M development pool to support full budgets of new films directed by those filmmakers previously disenfranchised?

This isn’t charity. This is industry survival in a global economy. And, as the pump of cultural product that Hollywood is, this is about preserving and enhancing our position as a world power in the field of ideas at a moment when we are losing face on the international stage.

And I’m not asking Spielberg or his posse to do it as a reflection of personal magnanimity. Slough off the ego, roll up the sleeves and make change because it will cost you nothing other than money. Certainly you haven’t spent those massive movie profits simply on In –N-Out burgers.

Mr. Spielberg, if you want to save movies, I suggest you step out of your creative comfort zone and relinquish control.

This won’t be easy. He’s no longer a Young Turk but an elder statesman. And his inclination, as reflected in his prestige Oscar-bait period films, is to lionize the white savior over the oppressed minority. For example, in Schindler’s List, now celebrating its 25th Anniversary, Liam Neeson saves the Jews as the fact-based title character who rescues his factory workers from the maw of the Nazis. Ditto Amistad, Saving Private Ryan and Lincoln.

What none of these dramatic serious stories does, with the exception of The Color Purple, is relinquish the central narrative arc to the so-called victims: Jews, blacks or women.

I don’t expect Spielberg the artist, whose 1975 film Jaws signaled the rise of the blockbuster and the decline of the 1970s groovy grainy films of his fellows like Sidney Lumet’s contemporaneous Dog Day Afternoon, to easily shift his focus. He has been in the industry sweet spot, often numero uno, for nearly half a century. But this is my plea.

We don’t need a savior tilting at the windmills of the past, like a silent-movie star raging in a squeaky voice at the rise of talkies. We need financing. We need mentorship and budgets.

We don’t even need big budgets.

Last year’s Oscar-winner Moonlight by Barry Jenkins had a $4M production budget. Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird was $10M. Debra Granik’s Winter’s Bone the movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career, was $2M.

What would the Athena Film Festival or the Memphis Film Prize or the Full Frame Documentary Film Festival be able to accomplish with $100M to award to women of all kinds and artists of color?

That would be a game-changer, Mr. Spielberg. And maybe it’s time for us, your audience, to save you from yourself.

(This column first appeared in RealClearLife.com}

Filed Under: Movies & TV Tagged With: Ava DuVernay, Diversity, Film, Inclusion, Netflix, Opinion, Oscars, Steven Spielberg

Review: Mads Mikkelsen in “Men & Chicken”

April 12, 2016 By Thelma Leave a Comment

Men & ChickenI was ecstatic when the narrative jury of the Sarasota Film Festival – New York Academy Director of Programs and Membership Patrick Harrison, Masters of Sex actress Caitlin FitzGerald and me – picked the Danish comedy “Men & Chicken” as our Best Feature. Not every jury is fortunate enough to have so many quality films to choose from, but we opted for Anders Thomas Jensen’s comedy because, frankly, it was so strange and entertaining it blew our minds. We had to come up with a rationale, so we said: “For its balls-out surreal and comic portrayal of men – and chickens (and bulls, too).”

We also gave a shout-out to the star of the ensemble, Mads Mikkelsen and his equally mad perm. This was not the suave and menacing, psychologically astute and devilishly handsome cannibal Dr. Hannibal Lecter of the addictive CBS show Hannibal that was meant for the edgier HBO. Nor was it the continental casino villain Le Chiffre in Casino Royale. Both characters have an excess of smug. Not here, where the Danish actor plays an onanistic sad-sack named Elias, his hare-lip half-hidden beneath a porn star mustache. On his father’s death that he and his professor brother Gabriel (David Dencik) actually had a different biological father – and did not share a mother.

Their late father’s ridiculously mis-shot (he’s visible from his naked knobby knees down) final video sends the two mismatched yet inextricably linked siblings on a road trip to the distant island of Ork in search of their biological father – and, for the sterile Gabriel, answers to the mystery of why his life is so massively messed up. Once there, the duo discover three additional hare-lipped half-brothers, holed up in their father’s rambling chateau surrounded by chickens, ducks, pigs, sheep – and a sole virile bull.

So much for plot, because like a modern oedipal Three Stooges, these men continually devolve into flights of pee-in-your-pants slapstick beatings using anything from rolling pins to stuffed swans to establish dominance and submission. What is truly beautiful ugly about the film is that at no point does the audience know where it’s going. Like the brothers, we embark on a journey into the freakishly unknown. While their acts seem random and chaotic, and the connections and disconnections between the reunited siblings are absolutely absurd, yet there is a nimble plan that organizes all the mayhem into a coherent and even touching whole.

“Men & Chicken,” which Denmark submitted for last year’s Academy Awards to no avail, is both funny ha-ha and funny peculiar. And what made me absolutely crazy was there was Mikkelsen, absolutely committed to this hulking brother, petulant, petty, loyal, eternally horny and frustrated. Forget Leo (haven’t we already?). Mads Mikkelsen is the greatest actor on the globe with the power to dive into his roles and return to the surface with the rare pearl of humanity that exists with in every man, good or evil or some bizarre and twisted place in between.

Filed Under: Movies & TV Tagged With: Caitlin FitzGerald, comedy, Hannibal, Mads Mikkelsen, Men & Chicken, Sarasota Film Festival, the three stooges

Berlinale Review: Director Mia Hansen-Love wins Silver Bear for ‘L’Avenir’ – Our Rave

February 21, 2016 By Thelma Leave a Comment

The Director Mia Hansen-Love wins a Silver Bear for her fifth film

The Director Mia Hansen-Love wins a Silver Bear for her fifth film


When men hit midlife, they buy a red convertible, maybe a toupee and a gym membership – and often trade in the used wife for a new cookie. In contrast, the wives they cast off cry on public transportation. They contemplate and reject plastic surgery. When the public weeping stops, they may rejoice that that’s a legion of dirty socks they won’t have to bend over and pick up from the floor in the future. Ultimately, there’s a sense of liberation.

In L’avenir (Things to Come), Mia Hansen-Love’s realistic French-language drama making its world premiere at the Berlin Film Festival, the Eden director follows the rhythms of Nathalie (Isabelle Huppert), a married Parisian high school philosophy professor and mother of two grown children. She should be enjoying the fruits of her labor, but then discovers that even when you have your own act very much together your life can still fall apart.

Huppert as Nathalie is about as much of a perfect woman—a feminist role model—as can be seen on screen. She is slim, and in that Parisian way, effortlessly chic. She passionately teaches philosophy—she’s big on Rousseau and the social contract—cooks game hen, arranges flowers, reads voraciously, tersely tends to her increasingly demented and childish mother, and enjoys the company of two children raised with love. As played by Huppert with confidence, control and minimal fuss, Nathalie is capable and brisk, enjoying life within the lines she has drawn over the past two plus decades.

And then Nathalie’s husband Heinz (Andre Marcon) announces he wants to leave, Nathalie’s publisher wants to sex up the covers of the philosophy texts she’s been writing for years, and her children become increasingly self-sufficient. It seems that the social contract she made with the world – that she would work hard and with integrity and be rewarded – has been broken. The movie echoes the 1978 Paul Mazursky film An Unmarried Woman with Jill Clayburgh, although infinitely more dry-eyed. Nathalie faces her future philosophically, navigating the unexpected upset as she would the countless crises of child-rearing or marriage – overcome the trauma, patch the problem and keep moving forward until it hurts just a little less, and then a little less. One day, the sun comes out and you can again feel its warmth on your cheeks, and get traction under your relatively sensible shoes (she is Parisian after all).

[Related: Meryl Streep Praises Hollywood’s ‘New Time of Possibility for Women’]

Writer-director Hansen-Love creates a lovely, mostly sharp character portrait of a capable woman facing a crisis in midlife with integrity. If Nathalie lacks the messiness and warmth of Clayburgh’s suddenly unmarried woman, that’s alright. Not everyone wears their life on their sleeve and the restraint here of Nathalie, and Hansen-Love, is admirable. The drama meanders in the third act, as Nathalie visits a protégé living on an anarchist farm and gets her puff of weed. But what makes it work is that, unlike Heinz, she doesn’t escape her rising sense of mortality by getting lost in the rumpled sheets with a man half her age. Sure, she looks over that cliff, and flirts with a neo-hippie commune – even hugging a donkey at one point – but the movie’s virtue is that, in the end, Nathalie returns to a life that she controls, crisply and philosophically. And, like Huppert herself, never makes one false move.

This review originally appeared on VanityFair.com

Filed Under: Criticism, Movies & TV Tagged With: Actresses over 40, Berlinale, cheating husbands, female-driven, infidelity, Isabelle Huppert, Mia Hansen-Love, Silver Bear, Vanity Fair

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • …
  • 79
  • Next Page »

Copyright © 2022 · Dynamik-Gen On Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in