JOHN WICK: 3 ½ STARS

The old saying goes a man is allowed to cry twice; when his mom dies and when his dog dies. A new film, “John Wick,” suggests otherwise. There’s no mom in sight, but when John Wick’s (Keanu Reeves) dog bites the biscuit prematurely, he doesn’t cry. Instead he reigns holy hell down on the men responsible.

When we first meet John Wick he resembles the Sad Keanu meme. He’s a broken hearted man whose wife has recently passed away. Working through his grief he mopes around the house and does super cool things like speeding his 1970 Mustang around a private track. He’s a loner until a package arrives at his door. It’s a puppy, sent by his wife just before she died, in the hopes that the dog’s love will help ease his pain.

For a time it works, but when some very bad men break into his house to steal his Mustang, the dog winds up as collateral damage. With the last living touchstone to his late wife gone, Wick reverts back to his old ways as a mad, bad and dangerous to know assassin bent on revenge. How wicked is John Wick? “Is he the boogeyman?” asks one former associate. “He was the one we sent to kill the boogeyman.”

“John Wick” is a down-and-dirty noir that builds an alternative world of assassins where hit men and women are paid in special coins, stay in exclusive hotels -- with killer views no doubt -- and speak in a strangely formal way. They see themselves as professionals with a civilized code of conduct… except that there is nothing civilized about the work they do. This is a gloriously gratuitous movie with violence that approaches an all out Tarantino-style blood bath.

It’s terse, with very little dialogue. In the first fifteen minutes there are only a handful of lines, but the story, background and motivations are very clear. It’s clean storytelling with no extras. Here’s what you need to know, the movie seems to say, cue the mayhem.

Like its main character, “John Wick” is a blunt, über macho instrument. Wick is so tough he doesn’t bother to take off his blood-soaked shirt when he starts his quest for vengeance and the movie is just as uncompromising.
 

Chloe Grace Moretz and Keira Knightley in Laggies

LAGGIES: 3 STARS

Teen angst has been good to the movies. “Blackboard Jungle” and “Rebel Without a Cause” defined that common collision of hormones and school stress for the 19560s and every decade since has offered up its own example of misunderstood, troubled youth. Heck, Kristen Stewart has made a career of playing dead-eyed teens.

“Laggies” fits the mold of a teen angst film, except the main character Megan (Keira Knightley) is a clever twenty-something who never completely grew out of her angst. “I had a good feeling about you,” says one her friends. “That makes one of us,” she replies.

In the film’s opening minutes we meet Megan and her friends on prom night. They sneak cocktails, dance and go skinny-dipping. Cut to today, the four girls (Ellie Kemper) are still in touch, some married to their high school sweethearts, some, like Megan, living with her prom date Anthony (Mark Webber).

Megan is surrounded by a strong support system; adoring parents, a devoted boyfriend and friends who love her enough to ask her to be their child’s godmother.

Still, she is unsettled. That feeling intensifies when Anthony tries to propose on the night of her best friend’s wedding. A chance encounter with a group of teens, including Annika (Chloë Grace Moretz) and her sarcastic friend Misty (Kaitlyn Dever), forces Megan to reexamine her life and relationship.

Megan says she became a psychologist because she wanted to have real conversations with people and Knightly, in a lissome performance, brings forthrightness to the character… even when she is lying. It’s something different from Knightley. She’s more off hand here than we’re used to, and even though she looks like a fashion model even when she is dressed down in her teen friend’s clothes, she still radiates the teen ennui that defines her character. We see her working through it, trying to figure out what she wants, but for now she is an unemployed woman with a degree who still flops herself on parents’ couch demanding pizza night.

Moretz and Dever also impress. In some ways Annika is more grown up, yet more confused than Megan. They mentor one another, and Moretz brings real vulnerability to the role. Less vulnerable but way sassier is Dever’s Kaitlyn who embodies the eye rolling best friend in every teen movie.

The role of the grumpy father, and this case also love interest, is ably taken by Sam Rockwell. He’s stern but funny—he says Annika and Kaitlyn are “like gerbils; they have no sense of time.”—but never feels like a caricature. None of the characters do. The story may have some questionable moments but the characters don’t.

“Laggies” director Lynn Shelton has a deft touch with characters—as witnessed in her other films “Humpday” and “Your Sister’s Sister”—but has relied a bit too heavily on rom-com conventions. It’s a satisfying movie, it’s too bad it settles for a standard ending.


Birdman

BIRDMAN: 4 ½ STARS

Every now and again a movie comes along that is so artfully weird, so unconventional in its approach and ethos, that it defies description and earns a recommend even though it isn’t completely successful in reaching its lofty goals. “Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance),” the new film from “Babel” director Alejandro González Iñárritu, is that movie.

In what may be the most meta casting coup of the year Michael Keaton plays Riggan Thomson, a former movie star whose fame floundered when he left the “Birdman” franchise of super hero movies. Twenty years later with his money running out, he makes a comeback bid in the form of a Broadway show based on a Raymond Carver novel. Surrounded by family—daughter Sam (Emma Stone)—friends—BFF Brandon (Zach Galifianakis)—intense actors—played by Edward Norton, Andrea Riseborough and Naomi Watts—and a nasty theatre critic (Lindsay Duncan) who resents movie star Riggins for taking up space in a theatre that could have been used for art, he fights to reestablish himself as a serious actor.

“Birdman” could have been a stunt film. The casting of “Batman” star Keaton as a washed up former superhero is inspired but mostly because he hands in a performance that rides the line between comedic and pathos. “I’m the answer to a Trivial Pursuit question,” he says.

It doesn’t feel like stunt casting because Keaton plays the truth of the situation and not just the situation. His Riggins is obnoxious, self-absorbed and yet earnest in his desire to create great art. Keaton plays it all, wallowing in a stew of self-pity—he says he looks like “a turkey with leukemia.”—and ego while never once trying to appeal to the audience’s good graces. It’s a bravura performance that is the beating heart of this strange beast.

The supporting actors also impress. As an extreme method actor with an uncompromising attitude toward acting and fame—“Popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige,” he says—the movie gives Ed Norton the most interesting and challenging part he’s had in years, and Watts is a suitably seething mass of insecurity and sexuality.

Also dazzling is the movie’s style. Filmed to look like one continuous steady-can shot, “Birdman” is as much a technical feat as it is an artistic one. Again, what could have been a stunt turns into a visual rollercoaster that propels the action forward constantly while creating a unique and stylish palette for the story.

But it doesn’t all work. Some of the insight is a bit too on the nose—“You’re no actor. You’re a celebrity.”—and labours to hammer home it’s points. The spiteful theatre critic becomes a caricature of New York intellectuals, scornful of Riggin’s accomplishments in Hollywood. ”You measure your worth in weekends,” she sneers, “and give one another awards for cartoons.” As fiery as that scene is, it feels a little too easy.

That is a small quibble, however, in a movie that takes so many chances and lampoons celebrity culture by having a reporter ask Riggins, “Is it true you have been injecting yourself with seaman from baby pigs?”

Whiplash


WHIPLASH: 4 ½ STARS

The beat goes. And on, although maybe not at exactly the right tempo, at an upscale New York music academy where teacher Terrence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) rules with an intensity that makes the drill sergeant from “Full Metal Jacket” look positively warm and cuddly by comparison.

“Whiplash” sees Andrew Neyman (Miles Teller) work toward his dream of becoming the best jazz drummer of all time. Taken under Fletcher’s wing, he is given a spot as an alternate in the school’s prestigious studio band. His job is to observe and turn pages of sheet music for the ensemble’s regular drummer but from the first day Fletcher seems to be by turns goading and encouraging Andrew, building him up only to tear him down. “Were you rushing or were you dragging? If you deliberately sabotage my band, I will gut you like a pig.” In an effort to impress his hardnosed teacher Andrew practices until his hands bleed, covering his cymbals in a fine mist of blood. But it may not be enough, and though Andrew has given his life to his studies, even dumping his girlfriend (Melissa Benoist) so she won’t be a distraction, he still might not have what it takes to be one of the greats in Fletcher’s eyes.

“Whiplash” is part musical—the big band jazz numbers are exhilarating—and part psychological study of the tense dynamics between mentor and protégée in the pursuit of excellence. The pair is a match made in hell. Fletcher is a vain, driven man given to throwing chairs at his students if they dare hit a wring note. He’s an exacting hardliner who teaches by humiliation and fear. “There are,” he says, “no two words in the English language more harmful than good job.”

Andrew is a loner who belittles anyone whose ambitions aren’t as lofty as his—and that’s pretty much everyone. He cares more about Buddy Rich than the real people in his life.

The toxic mix of perfectionism, ambition and hubris meet in a perfect storm, and, “Black Swan” style has serious repercussions for both teacher and student.

Director Damien Chazelle doesn’t miss a beat in presenting the complicated relationship. He draws inspiration from a famous story of Jo jones and Charlie Parker. Jones famously threw a cymbal at Parker after a lackluster solo, prompting the sax player to go away, practice for a year and return as one of the greatest musicians of the twentieth century. Teaching through fear and intimidation is the message, and while we'll never know if Andrew ever reaches Charlie Parker levels, Fletcher certainly emulates Jo's methods.

Ouija
 

OUIJA: 1 STAR

“Ouija” is scary, but not scary like Dracula, Edgar Allen Poe or hungry zombies. No, “Ouija” is scary because as I watched it I could feel my life slipping away, second-by-second, for ninety excruciating minutes.

The first Ouija board with an alphabet on it was patented in 1890. In the late 1960s they became a household item when Hasbro's Parker Brothers began marketing them in 1966. If you haven’t played with one, you’ve certainly seen a witchboard in the movies and know when teens start ouijiing spiritual strife is just around the corner.

The trouble in “Ouija” begins when Debbie (Shelley Hennig) breaks the first rule of witchboarding: Never play alone. She pays a heavy price for her spiritual disobedience and soon her group of good-looking friends is gathered at her funeral. “She said she’d see us the next day,” says BFF Laine (Olivia Cooke). “Why would she say that?” We’ll never know… unless Laine pulls out the Ouija Board! Using Debbie’s board Laine and pals try and contact their dearly departed’s spirit, but instead unleash a demonic terror that threatens all of their lives.

As scary as you would imagine a horror film inspired by a board game to be, “Ouija” is a mishmash of demonology, Japanese horror and so many slasher movie tropes they owe John Carpenter and Wes Craven a writing credit. The blonde girl dies first, there’s spooky stuff in the attic and the plucky heroine outlives almost everyone. At least there’s very little found footage.

The movie is 5% jump scares, those unexpected loud noises that make you twitch in your seat, 67% set-up and 28% strange glances. As Laine, Debbie’s intrepid best friend, Cooke does most of the heavy lifting. She keeps the action (such that it is) moving forward all the while displaying her mastery of the concerned look. With a furrowed brow and a determined attitude she tracks down the mystery behind her friend’s death, but mostly she just looks concerned.

More annoying than the blank stares is the movie’s habit of telling the audience the most obvious of details. “She played it alone,” whispers Laine in amazement over a shot of, you guessed it, Debbie going solo on the Ouija board. Over footage of Deb saying she found the board in the attic Laine helpfully adds, “She found it in her house!” Instead of telling us something useful, or interesting, the film makes sure that no detail, no matter how small, is commented on.

You won’t need spiritual help to figure out whether to see “Ouija” or not. The planchette (the ouija’s triangular pointer) is aimed at “No.”


The Guest

THE GUEST: 3 ½ STARS

When someone says, “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” it’s usually followed by something like, “I’m not really 39 years old,” or “Red is not my natural colour.” When David (“Downton Abbey’s” Dan Stevens), a mysterious soldier who shows up on the Peterson family’s doorstep claiming to be a friend of their late son, says it, it means all hell is about to break loose.

When the Peterson’s first meet David he seems like a good guy. He calls Spencer (Leland Orser) and Laura (Sheila Kelley) Peterson sir and ma’am, and is very protective of sister Anna (Maika Monroe) and troubled son Luke (Brendan Meyer). Perhaps too protective. When people in town start dying Anna becomes suspicious and starts asking questions whose answers come with a heavy price.

The gap between the genteel environs of “Downton Abbey” to the dusty underbelly of the heartland of America is a wide one but Stevens makes the leap. As David he is completely at ease with the unease of his character. His wicked smile (which usually precedes a flurry of fists or bullets) and his unfailing good manners make him the most unsettling of villains, the guy who smiles while people die around him.

He’s the beating heart of the story. If the character of David didn’t work, then neither would the movie. There are some cool set pieces -- the climax takes place in a homemade fun house maze, complete with dry ice, mirrors and mazes -- and enough action to keep things rocketing along, but it is the character and his complex relationship with the world that makes “The Guest” compelling.