In 2010 at Broadway's Cort Theater, Denzel Washington and Viola Davis electrified the stage with their performances in Fences, August Wilson's 1987 Pulitzer Prize winning play. Now, in the film presentation with a screenplay by Wilson, directed by Denzel Washington, he and Davis deliver equally visceral, emotionally shattering depictions of Troy and Rose Maxson. 

Married 18 years to Rose, 53 year-old Troy works as a garbage collector who aspires to promotion to driver. He clashes bitterly with his older son Lyons, a musician, and younger son Cory, a talented high-school football player eager to meet a college recruiter. Himself a baseball player years ago in the Negro League, Troy rails against the racial prejudice that he feels kept him from the big leagues, racism still pervasive in 1950s Pittsburgh where he lives. Rose unquestionably loves and supports Troy who harbors a seething anger for his lot in life and, according to his sons, takes it out on them.

Troy's on-going project to build a fence in his backyard gives the play and film its title, Fences. Its symbolic significance is articulated by Troy's friend and coworker Bono who observes, "Some people build fences to keep people out, some people build fences to keep people in." Truth be told, Troy does both, revealing the depths of his Troy's desperate need for validation leads to the most painful confrontation in a scene impossible to forget.  

The weakness of Denzel's migration of the play to film is that it feels like exactly that. It isn't opened up or expanded, a comment on Troy's entrapment but conferring some claustrophobia into its circumscribed world. The energy, and it is considerable, derives from the vitality in Wilson's superb writing, burrowing deep into the demons that Troy battles, scapegoating others while fighting himself. 

In that regard, Denzel and Viola embody truly astonishing depictions of this couple, acting at the highest level of perfection even in slight reaction shots or minor movements, and as director Denzel captures these details. Also superb are Stephen Henderson as Bono, Russell Hornsby as Lyons, and Jovan Adepo as Cory. But Fences belongs to Denzel and Viola for their fiery interaction. Check area listings.

 

The Chilean director Pablo Larraín is known for the film No and other looks at his country's politics. He is out of his element, however, with his coverage of the days following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963. By focusing on Pres. Kennedy's wife, Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy, Larraín closed in.

This is despite efforts to open the narrative to Pres. Kennedy's 1,000 days in office leading to the November kill. Larraín shows Jacqueline Kennedy's famous televised tour through the White House.

Larraín frames the film inside an interview between Mrs. Kennedy and a man merely known as The Journalist, played stoically and symbolically by Billy Crudup. She and he sit on the portico, flanked photogenically by columns. He interviews, she skitters and smokes. He asks, as she knew he would, about the sound of the bullet, about the lapful of brains, about the service to JFK's memory.

Larraín's cameras go behind the cameras as Kennedy conducts the TV tour and is reminded to smile by her secretary, played by Greta Gerwig. Larraín shows her stepping boldly out of the White House rather than hiding, kneeling before the catafalque holding her husband's coffin, and stooping to tell her children that Daddy's not coming home.

The cast neither looks nor sounds like the actual people: John Carroll Lynch's LBJ, Beth Grant's LBJ, Peter Sarsgaard's Bobby Kennedy, and a Dane, Casper Phillipson, as JFK. John Hurt play the generic priest more easily. Only one, Natalie Portman, tries to look and sound like her role, but she does not succeed and ends up looking and sounding forced. 

 

Larraín is good at atmosphere -- the fog at Arlington, Mrs. Kennedy's silent shower, her face before mirrors. But Jackie, the film, is too focused to teach history to the young and too invasive to appeal to the old, who watched TV that November. 

 

With a script by Garth Jennings who co-directs along with Christophe Lourdelet, Sing features a host of animals singing and dancing their hearts out. A who's who of actors lend their voices to the brightly colored animation with a solid message: never give up on your dreams whatever the obstacles.  

The voices come courtesy of Matthew McConaughey, Reese Witherspoon, Seth McFarlane, Scarlett Johansson, John C. Reilly and that's just part of the outstanding voice cast, all of whom did their own singing. But it's the legions of animators who create this incredibly energetic, feel-good story, anchored by Buster Moon, a rascally koala bear who launches a singing contest in hopes of saving his father's once enviably grand Moon Theatre.   

After Buster concocts his desperate plan, his looney, lizard secretary's glass eye pops out and accidentally types $100,000 as the prize money instead of $1,000. Game on with hundreds auditioning and a select few chosen, an ark's worth of elephants, porcupines, mice, pigs, gorillas, and more. Within the humorously presented character sketches for each animal resides a serious problem which each confronts, and these mirror recognizable human attributes. The elephant Meena has paralyzing stage fright and then gets paired with Gunter who can't quit showing off. 

The pig Rosita, ignored by her lackadaisical husband while she cares for their 25 piglets, just longs to perform. Porcupine Ash wants recognition and support from her partner for her original songs. Gorilla Johnny longs to follow his muse to become a crooner instead of yielding to his brother's demands in his gang's criminal activities. Throughout tryouts and rehearsals, a spectrum of emotional issues is addressed as Buster scrambles to please Nana Noodleman. She could invest money that would bail Buster out of the literal and figurative collapse of his theatre.

To the beat of snippets from 65 songs and an array of dancing styles, the camera swoops and swivels and flies through sets. Sing is a lively, crowd pleaser suitable for children and the adults who will want to accompany them. At area cinemas, check listings.

 

Director Garth Davis' film Lion sits squarely in the category of real-life stories that are more astonishing than any fiction. Here, briefly, is what really happened. In 1986 in rural, central India, older brother Guddu and five-year-old Saroo steal coal from trains and rummage for whatever else they can to help feed their impoverished family. 

One night Saroo falls asleep on a train and ends up in Kolkata, a thousand miles from his home. Since he speaks Bengali, he doesn't understand and can't communicate in the locals' Hindi. Saroo's fortunes change when he is adopted by Sue and John Brierley who live in Hobart, Tasmania. There Saroo grows to adulthood with his mentally-challenged brother Mantosh, also adopted. Twenty-five years later, Saroo decides he must attempt to find his original family, though he doesn't have a clue to even the name of his home town. 

With a deft, delicate touch Luke Davies has adapted Saroo Brierley's own account of his life's journey, "A Long Way Home." It would have been tempting to surrender to the sentimental aspects of this touching story, but Davies and director Davis choose a wiser course: a straightforward, restrained recounting, almost documentary in style. As Saroo negotiates with clever street savvy the dangers in Kolkata, no histrionic, sensationalized appeals are warranted or present. 

This extends to the undemonstrative performances by newcomer Sunny Pawar as Saroo the child and Dev Patel as the adult Saroo. Patel, who made a strong statement in Slumdog Millionaire, shows his chameleon-like range here and that he's grown into diverse, adult roles. Though they don't get much screen time, Nicole Kidman and David Wenham do a good job as Saroo's parents with Rooney Mara as Saroo's girlfriend.  

Shot by cinematographer Greig Fraser in Kolkata, India; Hobart, Tasmania; and Melbourne, Australia, the locations add a tangible presence conveying the dislocation Saroo experiences; that is, the lighting and color palette in India differentiate it significantly from Tasmania's art direction. 

Saroo's name means "lion," giving the film its title. In English as well as Bengali and Hindi with English subtitles. At Landmark's Plaza Frontenac and Tivoli Theatres.

 

 

Through beautifully rendered computer animation, Moana tells the upbeat, inspiring story of clever, brave heroine, Moana. She's the chosen one, the daughter of Polynesian chief Tui whose community lives on the Pacific Ocean island Motunui. No one dares venture beyond the reef due to past tragedies, but environmental pressures dictate the need for exploration, for overcoming tradition and fear. 

Undertaking the Herculean task, Moana, which means ocean, must find and battle the lava monster Te Kā to restore origin goddess Te Fiti's heart. Te Fiti created these islands but in the demigod Maui's battle with Te Kā, Maui lost his magical fish hook, capable of bestowing shape shifting powers on Maui, and he dropped the radiant green stone that is Te Fiti's heart. She must have it to reinstate harmony in nature. Never ignoring her fear, Moana conquers it and redoubles her efforts through great emotional resolve.  

Moana receives help from cockeyed rooster HeiHei, piglet Pua, and magical Maui. While he offers a lively counterpoint to Moana, he also reinforces stereotypes of the overweight Polynesian, a negative cliché that endures because of such unnecessary reinforcement. 

Despite that unfortunate representation, Ian Gooding's production design is first rate with gorgeous art direction and superb editing throughout Moana's quest, and a challenging one it is requiring stamina and intelligence to succeed. The action sequences on and under the waves are thrilling with the ocean a living, enthralling aspect of Moana's world. With the piglet and the chicken involved in the adventure, humorous events and sounds provide enjoyable punctuation, as is characteristic of Disney films. In a refreshing departure from the norm, Moana doesn't involve romantic elements, focusing instead on the daunting mission that will, not incidentally, benefit Moana's entire society. 

Implicitly supporting the idea of an Oscar for voice talent, Hawaiian native Auli'I Cravalho conveys Moana's diverse moods, and Dwayne Johnson does a terrific job as Maui. In fact, the entire sound mix is impressive, including original songs by Lin-Manuel Miranda and Opetaia Foa'i.  

Moana is appropriate for all ages, though very young children might be somewhat frightened in a couple scenes. Showing in 2D and 3D at area cinemas.

 

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