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    ‘The Wasp’ Review: A Feminine Face-Off

    This twisty psycho-thriller, about two childhood friends reunited under eerily ambiguous circumstances, is above all a dramatic showcase for its stars, Naomie Harris and Natalie Dormer.Actual wasps make multiple appearances in “The Wasp” — a twisty psycho-thriller by the director Guillem Morales — but the big sting comes courtesy of Heather (Naomie Harris, “Moonlight”), a housewife on the edge residing in Bath, England.Like with Amy Dunne in “Gone Girl,” there’s a lot going on in Heather’s brain. Why, exactly, does she put a hammer through a wasp’s nest while her husband, Simon (Dominic Allburn), hosts a crucial work dinner in the next room? Why does she message Carla (Natalie Dormer, “Game of Thrones”), her grade school bestie-turned-bully after decades of not speaking?The film’s muted color palette and the eerily glacial camerawork adds to this mood of menace. Clues are scattered throughout, like a flashback to Heather’s childhood when she witnessed Carla kill a pigeon. In another scene, Heather mulls over a notification from her ovulation tracker.Little by little, these mysteries are unpacked by way of an outlandish revenge plot that involves Carla, who now works at a grocery store. The elements of each woman’s identity are played like cards: Heather is Black, wealthy, docile and childless; Carla is white, poor, brutish and expecting her fifth baby. Themes of motherhood, class envy and racial trauma float around somewhat indifferently — there’s not much in terms of social commentary beyond the obvious. Still, the tension between the two women comes across, at times rivetingly, because of Harris and Dormer.Adapted from a stage play, “The Wasp” is above all a dramatic showcase for its two actresses — that most of the action takes place in one setting, Heather’s living room, adds to this thespian powder keg. Otherwise, the film is one aha moment after the next without the sense of humor or smarts to back up its fundamental absurdity.The WaspRated R for sexual assault and violence. Running time: 1 hour 36 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘The Deliverance’ Review: The Power of Camp Compels Him

    Lee Daniels directs Andra Day and Glenn Close in an exorcism tale that includes melodrama along with the scares.The director Lee Daniels frees his actors to exorcise their demons with audacious performances that rank among the most memorable of their careers. (If you’ve yet to see the mischief Nicole Kidman gets up to in “The Paperboy,” you’re in for a hoot.) With “The Deliverance,” a riotously wacky horror flick, Daniels adds actual demons, too, sending his latest troubled heroine, Andra Day, straight over the edge. Day, a Grammy-winning musician, earned a Golden Globe Award and an Oscar nomination for her performance in Daniels’s “The United States vs. Billie Holiday.” Not only can she sing and act — here, she’s an outrageous scream queen.Day plays Ebony, a single mother plagued by bills, alcohol addiction and her own violent temper. Her three glum children — Andre (Anthony B. Jenkins), Nate (Caleb McLaughlin) and Shante (Demi Singleton) — have endured years of abuse even before something wicked in their new home urges the tykes to hurt themselves and each other. Adding to the pressure, Ebony’s born-again, floozy mother, Alberta (Glenn Close), has moved in to recover from cancer (and criticize her daughter’s cooking), while a social worker named Cynthia (Mo’Nique) drops by to monitor the kids’ bruises, and, when pushed out the door, hurls as many nasty quips as she gets. When the spooky business starts, Ebony barely notices. She simply slams the basement door and keeps on trucking.The script by David Coggeshall and Elijah Bynum is a riff on the 2011 case of Latoya Ammons, whose claims that evil spirits had overtaken her family were corroborated by a Department of Child Services case manager, a medic, a police captain and a priest. But “The Deliverance” is driven by Ebony’s struggle to convince anyone to believe her — the pitiless authorities refuse to look past her own flaws. To the audience, however, she deepens into a riveting character study, particularly in one close-up where Ebony agonizes over whether maintaining her truth is worth the terrible personal consequences.Glenn Close in “The Deliverance.”Aaron Ricketts/NetflixWe are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘Seeking Mavis Beacon’ Review: A Search for a Black Luminary

    Two digital sleuths set out to find the woman who lent her image to computer software in this scattered documentary.Upon the release of the 2017 podcast “Missing Richard Simmons,” the host Dan Taberski said that he didn’t want to tell the story in a first-person documentary, because that sort of nonfiction film — the kind that stars the storyteller — is hard to pull off without it seeming self-indulgent.In “Seeking Mavis Beacon,” another personal investigation into an erstwhile public figure, the director Jazmin Jones doesn’t even try to avoid the self-indulgence pitfall. She decks it out with candles and uses it as headquarters.Scattered but amiable, the film centers on Jones and Olivia McKayla Ross as they set out to uncover the mysteries of Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing, a ’90s software program that featured a beaming Black woman on its packaging. Operating out of an atmospheric office lined with trinkets, the duo follow a loose, makeshift plan: analyze Mavis Beacon’s legacy as a Black digital assistant, and interview the woman who portrayed her, named Renée L’Espérance.The former of these ambitions soon proves a more revealing and productive use of time. L’Espérance is elusive, and the duo’s quixotic efforts to locate her lapse into seances and tarot readings. (LexisNexis is a better bet.)“Seeking Mavis Beacon” still goes down smoothly, at least until its conclusion; while other films tie up too neatly, this one could use a bow at all. It helps that Jones and Ross are clever and likable guides — come to think of it, they would have made excellent podcast hosts.Seeking Mavis BeaconNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 42 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Reagan’ Review: Dennis Quaid’s Time-Hopping Cold War Drama

    In this unabashed love letter to former president Ronald Reagan, Dennis Quaid fights the Cold War with conviction.In his long career, Dennis Quaid has sometimes played politicians. He’s been former President Bill Clinton (“The Special Relationship”) and was the president in the musical comedy “American Dreamz” with Hugh Grant and Willem Dafoe. Now, in “Reagan,” Quaid portrays former President Ronald Reagan with, if not brilliance, at least evident conviction. Time truly holds surprises for all of us.The movie, directed by Sean McNamara from a screenplay by Howard Klausner, opens with Quaid as the 40th president leaving a speech site and walking right into an assassination attempt. The picture then moves to present-day Moscow. Jon Voight plays Viktor Petrovich, a retired K.G.B. agent with an accent straight out of “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show” who narrates the story of Reagan to a younger functionary. And so we shift back to the 1980s, and then back to Reagan’s early years in radio and Hollywood. (Mena Suvari plays Reagan’s first wife, Jane Wyman, and Penelope Ann Miller is Nancy.)In the first eight minutes, the movie makes as many temporal shifts as a 1960s Alain Resnais work, albeit quite less gracefully.Why is Reagan’s story relayed by a K.G.B. guy? Because in this unabashed love letter to the former president, Reagan was the force behind the fall of the Soviet Union. The movie implies that this “evil empire” collapsed as a result not just of his presidency, but of his anti-Communist activism during his entertainment career in the 1930s, ’40s and ’50s. These eras are depicted in scenes strongly suggesting that before shooting, the cinematographer, Christian Sebaldt, happened upon a fire sale on diffusion filters at the camera store.The cast is dotted with cameos from the actors Lesley-Anne Down and Kevin Dillon; the prominent Hollywood conservatives Kevin Sorbo and Robert Davi also appear as seals of approval, one infers. It all makes for a plodding film, more curious than compelling.ReaganNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘1992’ Review: Can They Get Along?

    The uproar that followed the Rodney King verdict serves as a mere backdrop for fathers and sons to work out their issues in a heist thriller.The Los Angeles riots ultimately amount to little more than a plot device in “1992,” a rote heist thriller that tosses in a double dose of father-son melodrama. Or maybe the paternal bonding has been grafted on to the caper. Either way, nothing in the foreground of this hacky effort, directed by Ariel Vromen, is as interesting as what is happening in the backdrop — which is to say, the Rodney King verdict and its aftermath.Mercer (Tyrese Gibson) is a former gang member six months out of prison and now the sole custodian of his teenage son, Antoine (Christopher A’mmanuel), who resents him for not having been around. With the verdict set to be announced, Mercer wants Antoine to come straight home from school. Things “might get a little crazy out there today,” he says. Antoine doesn’t exactly listen; Mercer, searching for him that evening, catches up with Antoine right after he has thrown an object through a shop window. Later, the two are subject to a racist traffic stop in one of the film’s few potent scenes.Separately, the uproar that follows the acquittal becomes an excuse for a family of thieves to try to steal $10 million worth of platinum from the factory where Mercer works. After all, the city’s attention is elsewhere.But the hothead dad (Ray Liotta, in one of his final roles) likewise has trust issues with his sons (Scott Eastwood and Dylan Arnold). And when Mercer and Antoine seek refuge at the factory, the movie devolves into a tedious series of standoffs and tests of loyalty. The look is drab, the action is barely coherent, and Liotta deserved to go out with a better line than “I did the best that I could, son. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”1992Rated R. Gun violence and racial slurs. Running time: 1 hour 36 minutes. In theaters. More

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    Movie Trailers Have Gotten Worse. Why Aren’t Studios Having Fun With Them?

    Promos give away too much or too little or are misleading or don’t leave anything out. We could go on. But there are ways to fix them.I know the trailer for David Fincher’s 2010 drama, “The Social Network,” by heart.We hear the soft sounds of a children’s choir singing Radiohead’s “Creep” as a montage of mundane Facebook interactions flashes across the screen. When the voices hit the lyric “you’re so very special,” the camera zooms out of a pixelated image to reveal the face of Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg. It’s almost a minute in when footage from the actual movie starts to play and Zuckerberg chatters about wanting to get into Harvard final clubs. From there it’s a quick escalation of tension that reaches a peak when Andrew Garfield strides onscreen screaming, “Mark!” That’s when the tagline appears: “You don’t get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies.”Just thinking about it, I get chills. “The Social Network” is a great movie. The “Social Network” trailer is also a great movie. It just happens to be only 2 minutes and 30 seconds long.Movie trailers are, at their most basic level, marketing, of course. But they can also be so much more, little short films unto themselves, defined by excellent editing and the ability to create a feeling of thrilling anticipation. I love a great trailer, yet I can’t help but feel that there’s been a drought recently. And I’m not alone. My social media feeds are flooded with trailer-related complaints. (Currently one of the main targets is the trailer for “Speak No Evil,” which has been charged with showing the entire movie.)With studios scrambling to fill theaters, they seem to be struggling to figure out what kind of trailers will draw audiences. Instead of taking chances, they are making creatively inert spots. There are trailers that give away too much (“Trap”), trailers that are disappointingly generic (“A Quiet Place: Day One”) and trailers that feel tonally off (“Gladiator II”). Mostly, no one is having any fun with them anymore.Throughout Hollywood history, trailers have taken many forms. In the industry’s early days, the appeal to the audience was direct. The trailer for “Citizen Kane” spends about 30 seconds on a shot of a microphone descending while the director and star Orson Welles explains in voice-over that “what follows is supposed to advertise our first motion picture.” We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    ‘The Falling Star’ Review: A Dark Story in Meticulous Wrapping

    A series of mishaps befall an activist-turned-bartender in a visually rich but shallow Belgian film.“The Falling Star” works best if you watch it with the same eyes through which you’d watch a ballet, albeit a slapsticky one. The story it tells is dark, but the way in which it’s told is lightly comedic, more dependent on images and movement than character and plot. That the film’s directors, Dominique Abel and Fiona Gordon, both got their start (and met each other) as clowns is no surprise. They star here, too: Gordon as Fiona, a bereaved mother who is also a private eye; and Abel as two characters, an activist-turned-bartender, Boris, and his depressed doppelgänger, Dom, who is also Fiona’s ex-husband.Boris has been hiding out for 35 years since a bombing attempt gone wrong, pouring pints at the Belgian bar he owns with his wife, Kayoko (Kaori Ito). But when a man with a prosthetic arm shows up and tries to assassinate Boris, Kayoko and Boris hatch a plan with their friend and colleague Tim (Philippe Martz) to swap Dom in for Boris, without telling Dom he is a decoy.If this sounds like a setup for a lightly Shakespearean comedy of errors, that’s because it is, though it’s other things too. There are mistaken identities, missed connections and misguided romances, interspersed with bits of dancing and music not always strictly motivated by the plot.In their previous films, Abel and Gordon have worked in the tradition of cinematic burlesque, and here they riff on film noir (though our private eye is a lady, and she is asked to hunt down a lost dog). The noir provides some background tone: a world of anxiety and suspicion, a bit pessimistic and also swoony.Mostly, though, “The Falling Star” is a comedy with an edge: a story about losing one’s sense of purpose in life and wondering if it will ever return. Yet the film does not lead with its plot, nor are its characters all that memorable. What will stay with you is the mood, and that mood is created by its images.The camera is often set at an angle to evoke the distance between characters, and thus “The Fallen Star” feels almost like a series of tableaus, scenes painted in rich hues of deep green and bright red and warm gold, dressed sparingly but strikingly. Each frame recalls the fussy, otherworldly precision of Jacques Tati or Wes Anderson; in one scene, two characters unwittingly sit next to one another in bathroom stalls, crying on the same sheet of toilet paper that spools under the wall between them, an image that is clever, a little funny and also terribly sad.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Why an Asian American Reporter Wanted to Write About Romance

    Hollywood has portrayed Asian American men in unflattering ways for decades. One Culture reporter aimed to bring the uncomfortable conversations out of group chats, and into The Times.There is a scene in the 2023 film “Past Lives” in which Nora Moon, the protagonist, calls Hae Sung Jung, her childhood friend, “really
masculine, in
this
way
I
think
is
so
Korean.”When I first heard that dialogue, I remember jolting to attention. It felt like the movie was going out of its way to label an Asian man as manly. I had never heard that kind of talk on the big screen before.And, if I’m being honest, it made me, a Korean American man, feel good.I knew there was more I wanted to unpack, and doing so falls into my jurisdiction as a reporter on The New York Times’s Culture desk. So I was delighted when The Times’s Projects and Collaborations team asked me if I’d be interested in writing about the representation of Asian American men — and specifically their romantic roles — onscreen.Asian and Asian American men have been emasculated and marginalized for decades on American screens, and I wanted to chronicle the modest, but meaningful, shift happening right now. The article, which was published online today alongside visuals from Ricardo Nagaoka, explores how roles available to Asian and Asian American actors have evolved, especially over the last few years.I spoke to almost two dozen Asian Americans: Mostly actors, writers and directors, but also scholars, historians and everyday people. I needed to understand how laws and immigration policy — and especially pop culture — had shaped America’s view of Asian men. And I was interested in how the years of unflattering Hollywood portrayals made Asian and Asian American men feel.Surveys from the 2000s and 2010s had concluded that Asian men, along with Black women, were at the bottom of the racial romantic hierarchy when it came to dating in real life. And the frustration felt by Asian American men in that realm has at times manifested itself in misplaced toxicity, anger and resentment — particularly toward Asian women.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More