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      ‘Federer: Twelve Final Days’ Review: Roger, Over and Out

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      A new documentary follows the Swiss tennis star from his 2022 retirement announcement to his final match.Roger Federer retired from tennis at 41 having achieved everything there was to conquer: 20 Grand Slam titles and a reputation so sterling that his home country of Switzerland minted his face on a coin. (He was even once voted the second most admired person in the world after Nelson Mandela.) “Federer: Twelve Final Days,” a polite documentary by Asif Kapadia and Joe Sabia, follows the living legend throughout September 2022, from his goodbye announcement to his last professional match. The camera stays at a respectful distance as Federer exits private planes and cars and navigates news conferences where, as every sports fan knows, candid feelings are as rare as talent like his.Federer’s gravity-flouting litheness has always made a striking contrast against his grounded disposition. In his farewell match, playing doubles alongside longtime rival Rafael Nadal, his expressed hope is simply to “to produce something that’s good enough.” Federer describes himself as an emotional guy, but with the international press and his management team nearly always on the sidelines, there’s little privacy to get personal. One of the more vulnerable moments the film manages to capture comes when Federer wears the wrong dress shirt to a photo call.To deliver sentiment, the film instead relies on a score that sniffles as though a racehorse is being taken out to get shot. Yet, athletes do witness their own wakes. Flickers of spliced-in footage from Federer’s youth eulogize the grace that will forever outshine his four brutal knee surgeries. When he flubs a shot at his last match, the spectators look funereal — and the colleagues in attendance, from Björn Borg to Novak Djokovic, appear to recognize that this tragedy, this mass bereavement for an aging superhuman, has happened to them. Or it will.Federer: Twelve Final DaysRated R for language. Running time: 1 hour 40 minutes. Watch on Prime Video. More

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      ‘Hummingbirds’ Review: Two Friends’ Summer Along the Border

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      The young directors Silvia Del Carmen Castaños and Estefanía (Beba) Contreras stargaze, watch fireworks and discuss their lives in this documentary filmed in Laredo, Texas.Filmed in the summer of 2019, the lyrical documentary “Hummingbirds” is a portrait of two friends, Silvia Del Carmen Castaños and Estefanía (Beba) Contreras, and their lives in Laredo, Texas, across the border from Mexico. When they hang out near the Rio Grande, Beba says, “I’ve never been this close to the river except when I crossed.” She jokes that they’re breathing air from another country.But “Hummingbirds” isn’t a social-issue documentary, at least not directly. First and foremost, it is interested in simply capturing Silvia and Beba’s summer vibe, as they stargaze, watch fireworks, sing together (Beba is a songwriter) and shop at the dollar store. The emphasis on chilling out might not sound surprising, given that the two of them are the movie’s directors as well as its subjects. (Silvia was 18 and Beba 21 when shooting began.) Wouldn’t they be prone to finding their every activity fascinating?
      Except that “Hummingbirds” is pretty tight filmmaking at less than 80 minutes, and the laid-back presentation makes the political commentary register strongly from the periphery. The friends’ conversations allude to struggles with poverty, deportation risk (Beba is awaiting news on a visa) and unplanned pregnancies, in addition to their complicated family lives. The closest thing to a major incident involves their defacing of a yard sign, which they edit to change “Pray to end abortion” to “Pray 4 legal abortion.” Yet in a way, the movie is all incident. The closing credits list four co-directors, which explains how Silvia and Beba could film themselves so fluidly.HummingbirdsNot rated. In English and Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 18 minutes. In theaters. More

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      ‘Thelma’ Review: Granny Get Your Gun

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      The remarkable June Squibb plays a vengeful scam victim in this ludicrous action-movie spoof.“Thelma,” a mildly amusing, highly improbable codger comedy, is so typical of a certain kind of Sundance movie — sentimental, quirky, ingratiatingly likable — that it feels instantly familiar. Mostly, the film serves as a showcase for the wonderful June Squibb; but this rightly revered character actor was not the only notable asset that the writer-director, Josh Margolin, was blessed with for his first feature. Parker Posey, Clark Gregg, Malcolm McDowell and the storied Richard Roundtree (who died last year) were all on hand, making it even more disappointing that Margolin couldn’t provide them with a richer, more satisfying script.Instead, we have action-movie silliness that’s barely more plausible than the plot of “Sharknado” (2013). When we meet Thelma (Squibb), a sturdy, nonagenarian widow, she’s navigating a computer screen with the help of her doting grandson, Daniel (Fred Hechinger). Their mutual fondness feels easy and genuine, so when an unknown caller claims that Daniel has been involved in a terrible car accident and needs $10,000 in cash for legal representation, Thelma’s distress and compliance are understandable. Less so is the escalating nonsense that follows as Thelma, learning she has been duped, resolves to track down her scammer and retrieve her money.Off she goes, to the accompaniment of a particularly grating soundtrack, having co-opted a mobility scooter and the reluctant help of its sharp-witted owner, Ben (Roundtree). As the two steal a gun and try to outrun Thelma’s overanxious daughter and stuffy son-in-law (Posey and Gregg), the chase-movie absurdities are punctuated by age-related pauses, like Thelma’s repeated encounters with random strangers she thinks she recognizes. These tiny ellipses, and Ben’s gentle solicitousness, are far more resonant than the thriller-style trickiness — including an actual explosion — that surrounds them.Some of the plot is just unnecessary padding, like Daniel’s girlfriend troubles and slacker mentality, spiking in an odd scene where he hysterically bemoans his own uselessness. Yet Margolin’s empathy for Thelma (he based the story on a scam perpetrated on his own grandmother) lends the film a sweetness and occasional poignancy that help mitigate much of the foolishness. The falterings of memory and balance, the falling-away of friends and social engagements — “Thelma” is at its best when noting the vicissitudes of aging, hammered home in Ben and Thelma’s discovery of an old friend’s extreme deterioration. In that sense, the terrifying tug between personal agency and assisted living is both the film’s sourdough starter and its entire loaf.Movies starring cute children or venerated older actors often coast on the good will of critics and audiences, and “Thelma” currently boasts an astonishing 98 percent rating on the website Rotten Tomatoes. That said, the direction is tight, the two leads are charmers and the supporting cast allows them to shine. It all goes down as easily, and as unremarkably, as warm milk. Let’s just say that this one is not for the lactose intolerant.ThelmaRated PG-13. Running time: 1 hour 37 minutes. In theaters. More

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      ‘The Devil’s Bath’ Review: Madwoman in the Cottage

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      This stark psychological horror movie tracks the mental deterioration of an 18th-century peasant woman.“The Devil’s Bath” looks and sounds like your average horror movie — there are perturbing scenes of bodily mutilation, menacingly quiet long shots of stark Austrian woodlands and a young woman, Agnes (Anja Plaschg), who spirals into madness.Yet the cleverness of this psychodrama, by the Austrian directing duo Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala (“The Lodge”), is that it employs the tropes and tools of folk horror without any of that genre’s supernatural flourishes. The film is grounded in a harrowing historical reality, about the terrifying lengths to which women will go to liberate themselves from destructive domestic conditions. Franz and Fiala bring out this reality’s latent horrors through a series of suspense-building strategies.The prologue sets the tone. “As my troubles left me weary of this life, it came to me to commit a murder,” reads the opening title card. We see a nameless woman toss a baby off a waterfall and then turn herself into the authorities, going through these motions with a deadeye roboticism. We’re in the boonies of 18th-century Austria, a land of tall, lonely forests and craggy hillsides. Families live in stone cottages and customs are dictated by severe Roman Catholic doctrines inflected by pagan superstitiousness. In this eerie, rather primitive context, its easy to surmise that the murderess is a witch.When we finally meet Agnes, a devout Catholic, she is initially excited about her marriage to Wolf (David Scheid), a stout, jovial young man who moves his new family into a remote cottage. Things sour quickly: Wolf proves uninterested in physical intimacy with his eager wife (and probably any woman), and Wolf’s cruel, domineering mother (Maria Hofstätter) blames Agnes for their lack of children.Shifting between naturalistic camerawork and static shots of uncanny landscapes and sunless skies, the film zooms in on Agnes’s deteriorating psychological state with minimal dialogue. A mood of desperation sinks in as the film showcases the punishing routines of rural peasant life, best exemplified by fishing scenes in which the slender Agnes struggles to keep up with the other workers. At one point, she’s stuck in a stretch of viscous black muck at the edge of the lake, a palpably distressing image that draws mockery from her mother-in-law, the fishing crew’s organizer.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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      ‘Kinds of Kindness’ Review: Everybody’s Looking for Something

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      Yorgos Lanthimos returns with a twisted fable triptych about dominating and being dominated.You could endlessly pick apart “Kinds of Kindness,” but I don’t recommend it. The closest to a précis you’ll get for the film comes at the start, when the strains of the Eurythmics’ banger “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” ring out over the opening titles. The lyrics repeat the discomfiting notion that:Some of them want to use you.Some of them want to get used by you.Some of them want to abuse you.Some of them want to be abused.Well, who am I to disagree?“Kinds of Kindness” is a return to a certain form of form, if you will, for the director Yorgos Lanthimos, fresh off his warmer, cuddlier films “The Favourite” and “Poor Things.” His earlier movies, “Dogtooth,” “Alps,” “The Killing of a Sacred Deer” and “The Lobster” — all four written with Efthimis Filippou, who was his collaborator on “Kinds” — are less accessible, more deranged, less logical, more disturbing. Which is of course why they’re so polarizing. And so beloved.I expect “Kinds of Kindness” to take its place among that latter group, with its vibrantly, defiantly off-putting stance and sidesplittingly sick sense of humor. It’s a triptych that at first seems slight, then gains meaning the longer you hold its three seemingly disconnected short films in juxtaposition and peer through the overlaps. All three share a cast that includes some returning Lanthimos players, like Margaret Qualley, Willem Dafoe and Emma Stone, who won her second Oscar earlier this year for “Poor Things.” There are newcomers, too: Hong Chau, Mamoudou Athie, Joe Alwyn and especially Jesse Plemons, who won the best actor prize at Cannes for his performance.Plemons is the main character for most of the film. In the first segment, he plays a man whose every move is dictated by his boss (Dafoe), until it isn’t. In the second, Plemons is a cop whose researcher wife (Stone) goes missing on a desert island; when she returns, he’s convinced she’s not actually his wife. And in the third, Plemons and Stone play members of a strange cult (led by Dafoe and Chau) who are desperately seeking a young woman who will become its spiritual leader.It’s all presented with the eerie air of a very dark comedy, the sort where sudden savagery can come crashing through the wall at any second. Violence and cruelty are the drivers of “Kinds of Kindness,” often presented not as the opposite of that kindness but as kindness itself. This strange world calls for delicious off-kilter performances, and the cast — particularly Stone, who’s proven her mettle in this regard, and Plemons — deliver. If you think you know what’s happening in a scene, just wait.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 Exorcism’ Review: Losing Faith

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      Russell Crowe stars as an actor playing an exorcist who’s battling his own demons.“The Exorcism” starts from an instantly compelling premise: On the set of a horror movie about an exorcist, demons lurk. Horror films often tap into ancient fears rooted in myth; this is just a more modern one. As one character tells another, “All kinds of things happen on the sets of devil movies.” Then she names a few examples: “‘The Omen,’ ‘The Exorcist,’ ‘Poltergeist.’” It’s true — over decades, stories of freak accidents and deaths on those sets have grown into the kind of lore that can power its own horror film.That “The Exorcist” is named in this list is a little funny, since the film-within-the-film is clearly just a variant on William Friedkin’s influential 1973 classic. The nested movie is even called “The Georgetown Project,” a reference to the setting of “The Exorcist.” (“The Exorcism,” directed by Joshua John Miller from a screenplay he wrote with M.A. Fortin, seems named to provoke the comparison, too, though that also makes talking about it a little confusing.) What’s more, the first scene in “The Exorcism” reveals that “The Georgetown Project” is about a priest having a crisis of faith who is called to cast a demon out of a teenage girl, and that the house built on the soundstage is a dead ringer for the more famous movie’s set. In other words: In “The Exorcism,” they’re basically making “The Exorcist.”Religious horror — which is to say, horror movies that specifically evoke religious imagery — can be hopelessly hokey, thoughtlessly appropriative, or thoughtful. I’d put “The Exorcist,” one of Hollywood’s best meditations on faith and doubt, in the thoughtful camp, and for the first half-hour of “The Exorcism,” I though it would land there too. It’s about a famous actor named Tony Miller (Russell Crowe, looking sufficiently tortured), whose addictions and grief have recently derailed his career and life. He is given a chance to star as a priest in “The Georgetown Project” by its cranky jerk of a director (Adam Goldberg) after the role is suddenly and violently vacated. Tony thinks it is the salvation he needs.Catholic symbology plays an outsized role in horror — thanks, in no small part, to the influence of “The Exorcist.” Often movies end up grappling with whether the words, rites and sacramental objects of the Catholic church have power of their own, regardless of the beliefs and righteousness of the wielder. “The Exorcism” dips into this inquiry but goes further. In this movie, Catholicism is both the villain and the hero.Tony’s sardonic 16-year-old daughter, Lee (Ryan Simpkins), for instance, shows up at home because she has been suspended from her Catholic boarding school for protesting the principal’s choice to fire her gay guidance counselor. She and Tony have a fraught relationship given Tony’s checkered past, which, we come to realize, has something to do with a horrifying experience from his days as an altar boy.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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      ‘Janet Planet’ Review: A Sticky Summer Full of Small Dramas

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      Annie Baker’s debut feature film is a tiny masterpiece — a perfect coming-of-age story for both a misfit tween and her mother.Kids are supposed to love summer, but I can’t be alone in remembering it as the most vexing season. It’s hot, and there are mosquitoes and spasms of allergic sneezes, and the predictable, sociable structure of the school year vanishes for what feels like an interminable stretch. When Lacy, the 11-year-old in the playwright Annie Baker’s brilliant “Janet Planet,” calls home from camp to tell her mother, Janet, that if she doesn’t come pick her up, she’ll kill herself — I got that, in all its hyperbolic provocation. Sometimes summer is just the worst.But being 11 is also the worst. “You know what’s funny?” Lacy (Zoe Ziegler) asks Janet (Julianne Nicholson) a few weeks later, when she’s been brought back to the home the two share in western Massachusetts: “Every moment of my life is hell.” Janet doesn’t want to laugh, and gently corrects her. But she’s also in the throes of her own turmoil, so she gets it. “I don’t think it will last, though,” Lacy continues, acknowledging with tween stoicism her spells of hell and happiness.Lacy’s life is not hell, no matter her solemn belief. Her mother has built a good life for the two of them, even if it’s invaded at times by friends who need help and boyfriends who Lacy knows are bad news. But every day is long and every occurrence is amplified when you’re Lacy’s age. The genius of “Janet Planet,” Baker’s debut as a feature writer-director, is how flawlessly it renders what it’s like to spend the summer being 11 at your home in the woods, when your mother is your whole world and you wish you could just have her to yourself. You can hear the buzzing bug zapper, feel the sunburn on your skin, scratch your knees on the freshly cut grass and sink into the hazy evening ennui.Baker, who grew up in Amherst, knows the texture of those Massachusetts summers by heart. She also knows the kinds of people who populate the area, sending Janet and Lacy at one point to a midsummer mystical theatrical presentation, complete with larger-than-life puppetry, after which everyone is implored to take home all the extra zucchini the group grew by accident. “Janet Planet” is a tiny masterpiece, and it’s so carefully constructed, so loaded with details and emotions and gentle comedy, that it’s impossible to shake once it gets under your skin.The film is divided into three big sections, centering on three adults who show up in Janet’s life, and thus Lacy’s, in the summer of 1991. First there’s Wayne (Will Patton), Janet’s boyfriend, who was expecting to have the summer alone with her. Later, there’s Regina (Sophie Okonedo), who needs a place to stay after leaving a group that’s part commune, part theater troupe and maybe part cult. Finally, there’s the leader of that group, Avi (Elias Koteas), who takes an interest in Janet and her spiritual development.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 Bikeriders’ Review: On the Road to Nowhere, Beautifully

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      Austin Butler, Jodie Comer and Tom Hardy star in a romanticized drama about a fictional motorcycle club in the 1960s.“The Bikeriders,” a romanticized ballad of tribal love, outlaw cool and the illusion of freedom, gets your motor runnin’ early. A drama flecked with absurdity and violence, it narrates the rise and inevitable dissolution of a Midwestern motorcycle club across the 1960s into the early ’70s, from the ebbing of the greaser era and past the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. Not much happens, but the people are beautiful and so too are their bikes, rumbling beasts that tribe members ride and ride on that familiar closed loop known as Nowheresville, U.S.A.The first essential thing to know about “The Bikeriders” is that the writer-director Jeff Nichols has, improbably, based the movie on a totemic photography book of the same title by the great American photographer and filmmaker Danny Lyon. The second thing is that the movie stars Austin Butler, Jodie Comer and Tom Hardy, a troika of charisma bombs who just have to show up for me to do the same. Nicely supported by a sprawling cast of other good lookers and hard workers, these three are among the draws in a movie that understands the seductions of beauty, the sensuous lines of a human body, the curves of a chassis.The story, such as it is, traces the evolution of a fictional Chicago-area motorcycle club, the Vandals, from its racer origins. Scrambling the chronology, Nichols opens the story midway in 1965 with one member, Benny (Butler), being harassed at a bar by two strangers who want him to remove his “colors,” his ragged denim vest adorned with the club’s name. (Why? Why not?) Soon, punches are being thrown, and one stranger is swinging a shovel at the back of Benny’s head. Nichols freezes on Benny’s face with the shovel framed behind him like a cockeyed metal halo, a wryly funny image that captures a moment in time, much as Lyon did in his photos, and heralds the violence — its threats and giddy thrills — of the bikers’ lives.For a few years in the early and mid-1960s when Lyon was in his 20s, he rode with a real Chicago club, the Outlaws, one of the oldest such groups in the country, charting his adventure in photographs and audio recordings. In 1968, the year before Dennis Hopper’s biker film “Easy Rider” opened, Lyon published “The Bikeriders,” a collection of black-and-white photos with accompanying interviews. One of his interviewees was the real Benny’s wife, Kathy Bauer, a philosopher of male behavior whom Nichols has made the narrator and is played by Comer with rough charm and a chewy, g-dropping accent. (You can compare her pitch-perfect interpretation of Bauer’s voice on Lyon’s website bleakbeauty.com.)Using the book as his lodestar, Nichols borrows from Lyon by turns directly, elliptically and sometimes clumsily, while making some instructive omissions: Some of the bikers wear Iron Cross patches, but if there’s a Nazi swastika or Confederate flag here, emblems flaunted by some white bikers including Danny’s old Outlaw pals, I missed it. Nichols’s most cumbersome move is to have turned Lyon into a supporting character, a bland, earnest smiler (Mike Faist), who basically holds a mic while Kathy chronicles her biker life and times. More subtle and intriguing are Nichols’s efforts to capture the power of Lyon’s photos which — with their dynamic mixture of pictorial beauty and thematic grit, hyper-masculinity and homosocial intimacy — tell a specific 20th-century American story of being and belonging.To that end, Nichols at times re-creates the original photographs, say, with a shot of Benny riding alone across a bridge while looking backward, an image that condenses the paradoxes of his life. Like the other club members, Benny tends to rack up miles without going anywhere very far, a provincialism that is one of the most American things about them. In another scene, Kathy recounts the first time she saw Benny, head bowed, leaning on a barroom pool table with his bared, muscly arms. Nichols catches this moment memorably, as does Comer, whose face opens in wonder as the camera pushes in toward Benny and he raises his head.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