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      ‘Paddington in Peru’ Review: Homeward Bound

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      The genial bear embarks on an Amazonian journey of self discovery in this movie, which cannot measure up to “Paddington 2” despite its charms.It’s rare for a sequel to outshine its original, and there’s hardly a case that comes to mind quicker than “Paddington,” the live-action franchise about a clumsy, gentlemanly bear from Peru who was brought up in London. Based on Michael Bond’s books, the original movie and especially the sequel stand out for their appeal to all ages — from the children toward whom they’re geared to the abundance of adults who relish their sincerity, humanity and flair.“Paddington in Peru,” an amiable effort to continue the trend, moves its star into the action-adventure genre. The movie finds Paddington (voiced by Ben Whishaw) on a safari through the Amazon jungle of his youth to rescue his aunt Lucy (Imelda Staunton), who has mysteriously gone missing from her retirement home.If “Paddington” hinges on blundering and “Paddington 2” on relentless civility, the third stages a more personal journey of self discovery. It’s a somewhat rote exercise in soul-searching, and the script lacks subtlety. (At one point, a character actually says, “you have found yourself.”) But the experience is still a worthy one for our furry leading man. Finally, Paddington graduates from nuisance to pathfinder, from struggling to fit in to forging his own identity.The movie begins by catching us up with the Brown family in their picturesque townhouse in London. The kids — now adolescents — have gained independence, and Mrs. Brown (Emily Mortimer, taking over from Sally Hawkins) is missing the days when the fivesome would spend time as a family. So, when Paddington learns that Lucy is in trouble, Mrs. Brown jumps at the opportunity for some vacation bonding and ushers her family into a Peruvian rescue mission.In his feature debut, the director, Dougal Wilson, nods to the adults in the room by taking the straightforward story and packing it with cinematic references. Early on, there’s a singalong where the retirement home’s Reverend Mother (Olivia Colman) belts to the hills with the sound of music. Later, action scenes sponge ideas from Buster Keaton and Indiana Jones. And among the ensemble, the intrepid Hunter Cabot (Antonio Banderas) plays a local river guide whose support of the Browns is tainted by an ulterior motive.Watching Hunter’s schemes unfold, viewers can appreciate the central challenge facing “Paddington in Peru.” How do you measure up to “Paddington 2” when much of its magic came from Hugh Grant, who’s nowhere to be found? Instead, the filmmakers call on Colman and Banderas to fill the void, and although the actors commit with manic enthusiasm, their goofing can’t conjure what came before. Like chivalry from a genial bear, it’s a tough act to follow.Paddington in PeruRated PG. Running time: 1 hour 46 minutes. In theaters. More

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      ‘Universal Language’ Review: If Tehran Were Winnipeg

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      A lightly satirical and surrealist comedy imagines the snowy Canadian city in the style of the Iranian New Wave.The jokes I most enjoy are very specific, aimed at some tiny cross section of people who possess a peculiar shared set of reference points. Sure, broadly crowd-pleasing comedy is a hoot. But when you sense something is funny because it was made for you, and so there are other people like you, too — that’s one of the best feelings art can provoke.“Universal Language,” directed by Matthew Rankin, is a gently funny, gently moving, slightly surrealist little comedy that’s aimed at two groups of people: Canadians, specifically but not exclusively those who know Winnipeg, and aficionados of Iranian cinema. Surely there’s overlap between the two circles in that Venn diagram, but I can’t imagine it’s all that substantial. Combining the two cultural specificities, though, makes for something fresh and weird and delightful to watch — even if, like me, you’re not an expert on either one.Even before the movie begins, onscreen text proclaims that this is “A Presentation of the Winnipeg Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young People.” No such agency exists: It’s a sly wink at cinephiles, who may know that a similar institute — the Institute for the Intellectual Development of Children and Young Adults — produced some of the classic Iranian films in the 1970s and ’80s, including some early children’s films from the celebrated director Abbas Kiarostami. Rankin even uses a logo for his fictitious institute that looks suspiciously like the Iranian one.Actually, the onscreen text that I could read was in English subtitles, because the logo was rendered in Persian — unexpected for a purportedly Winnipeg-based organization. It’s the first indication that this movie is not set in a world strictly like our own. In their screenplay, Rankin, Ila Firouzabadi and Pirouz Nemati came up with a world that is sort of a thought experiment: What if Tehran were Winnipeg? Or Winnipeg were Tehran? What if the landscapes were snowy, the Tim Hortons were teahouses and everyone spoke Persian?Persian and French, technically — this is Canada after all. There’s no reason given for this alt-historical fact: This is just normal Canada but with Iranian cultural traditions having fully melded with Canadian ones for whatever reason. In fact, the first scene is set in a French-immersion language school full of rambunctious children, including one dressed up as Groucho Marx (cigar included) and one, named Omid (Sobhan Javadi), who insists that a turkey stole his glasses. The ill-tempered teacher (Mani Soleymanlou), who excoriates the children for not even having “the decency to misbehave in French,” declares that there will no school until Omid has glasses again.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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      ‘Sly Lives! (aka the Burden of Black Genius)’ Review: Struggling to Transmit

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      Questlove’s new documentary aims to dissect the forward-looking brilliance of Sly Stone and his band, but mostly it traces their downward arc.Partway through this new Questlove documentary about Sly Stone, his band, the Family Stone, and the joyous, urgent funk they made, I got a little sad. Not for Stone, per se, and not for fame’s warping effect on his personality and relationships or for the serious drug addiction that maybe helped him cope with being that recognizable. (If “psychedelia” was a look, he looked it: piles of hair often cherried by a hat; capes, tight leather and denim; shirts, vests and jackets that never ever seemed to close.) I got sad because I could predict the notes the movie would hit — collapses, breakups, recriminations, redemption.I could make that prediction because of all the “Behind the Music” I’ve watched. This movie, “Sly Lives!,” tells Stone’s life as one of those “… and then it all fell apart” stories. Ahmir Thompson, the director better known as Questlove, proceeds with more care — with ardor even — than that series, which ran for about 17 years on VH1 and developed a formula that itself became an addictive experience. You don’t know “binge watch” until you’ve lost an entire day on that show’s roller coaster.“Sly Lives!,” which is streaming on Hulu, traces the arc of a vital career, and down is where, for a time, it led. Stone is an artist partly responsible for making “too much, too fast,” in the rock ’n’ roll universe, feel inevitable now. And if George Clinton happens to surprise you with the news that he and Stone had been using crack and were arrested in 1981 for possession, withholding that discovery constitutes minor cultural malpractice. Yet how does a filmmaker devise an alternative to the old rise-before-demise template? Failing that, how does a filmmaker enliven the journalism of the format with insight, feeling, personality, an argument?Questlove would like “Sly Lives!” to brush the dust from Stone’s pop pedestal, to celebrate his music as sui generis polymathic synthesis and as hip-hop’s bedrock, to imply that his ethos, zeal, caution and nerve persist in his scores of studio-wizard and rhythm-vision progeny: for starters, Stevie Wonder, Prince, Lenny Kravitz, Outkast, Erykah Badu, Meshell Ndegeocello, LCD Soundsystem, Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino, Steve Lacy. But the movie gets lost in the gulf between standard, if illuminating, biography and roiling existential crisis.For “Sly Lives!” is a title with freight. “The Burden of Black Genius” is what follows in a parenthetical, but “Black” gets a strikethrough. The film opens with its director asking for a definition of “Black genius” from Clinton, D’Angelo, Chaka Khan, Q-Tip, Nile Rodgers, Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis and the guitarist Vernon Reid. Thought bubbles ensue. André 3000’s endorsement of Black genius as a phenomenon he loves “when it happens” is as near an answer as anyone gets. And Stone, who’s 81 now, evidently couldn’t be cajoled into comment.He was born Sylvester Stewart and reared in Vallejo, Calif. His musical life began in the church and was fortified by playing records on the radio station KSOL and producing songs for other Bay Area acts at Autumn Records. He stopped studying music in college and, in 1966, formed a band of his own with his siblings, Rose (keys) and Freddie (guitar), alongside Cynthia Robinson (trumpet), Jerry Martini (sax), Greg Errico (drums) and Larry Graham (bass). (They all provided vocals. But one of the film’s quieter achievements is the reminder that Stone was the pre-eminent funk singer — growls, yelps, wails; pulpit and pelvis.)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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      ‘La Dolce Villa’ Review: Sweet Italian Nonsense

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      A light as air romantic comedy about a cheap villa in a fictional town capitalizes on the “Emily in Paris” model, with pasta.From the start, I had many questions about “La Dolce Villa,” directed by Mark Waters, most of which are easy enough to answer but stick in the mind nonetheless. Why, for instance, is the hot middle-aged dad, Eric (Scott Foley), so incredibly mad at his 20-something daughter, Olivia (Maia Reficco), for wanting to purchase a literal villa in Italy for the whopping price of one euro? Why, for that matter, is her Italian so good? Why does Eric seem so convinced the one-euro Italian villa situation is a complete scam, despite, presumably, living in a world that has the internet? Why does everyone in the tiny, remote, fictional town of Montezara, in which this villa can be found, speak extremely accomplished, crystal-clear English? And why does it feel like “La Dolce Villa” is actually funded by an Italian tourist bureau?The same answer applies to each of these: It’s a Netflix movie, designed expressly for the “Emily in Paris” audience. That is to say, it’s a glossy fairy tale about Americans having lighthearted adventures in Europe, getting into scrapes and falling in love and charming the pants off all the locals.I’ve basically explained the premise, but let’s add that Eric, a widower, and Olivia are from Ohio. After a couple of bad traveling mishaps in the past, Eric is convinced Italy is the worst place ever. He used to be a chef, but now he’s a corporate guy — yet when he sees the villa, with its capacious broken-down kitchen, the gears start to turn. Olivia is more of a free spirit, and she’s made friends with the mayor of Montezara, Francesca (Violante Placido), who is beautiful, around Eric’s age and full of big plans for her little town. Montezara is populated by an assortment of contractors, nonnas and beautiful young people. Everybody eats pasta and rides bikes through the countryside.And Montezara seems full of villas available for one euro, part of a movement in Italy to infuse new life into communities that are in danger of becoming ghost towns. (In the movie and in real life, buyers have to commit to renovating the building within a few years, which can cost thousands of dollars but is still much cheaper than buying a house virtually anywhere else.) It’s basically paradise on earth, and of course, Francesca and Eric — being single, middle-age and extremely beautiful — will meet cute and have a series of slapsticky mishaps and you know the rest.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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      ‘Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy’ Review: A Screwball Heroine Is Back

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      The madcap Londoner returns in a third sequel that is just as deliciously satisfying as the first movie in the series — maybe even more.Even though Bridget Jones fans are used to zany plot developments, few could have anticipated the twist in the new installment of her film series: Miraculously, “Bridget Jones: Mad About the Boy” reconnects with the deft balance of bubbliness, high jinks and emotion that was the hallmark of the movie that started it all in 2001, “Bridget Jones’s Diary.”That is a surprise, indeed, because of the first two sequels’ diminishing returns. The previous entry in the franchise, “Bridget Jones’s Baby,” may have ended with our heroine (Renée Zellweger) as the beaming new bride of her soul mate, Mark Darcy (Colin Firth), but the franchise itself was in dire straits. Labored and unfunny, that film, from 2016, sounded like a cinematic death rattle rather than peals of joyous wedding bells.Michael Morris’s “Mad About the Boy” opens with Bridget a widow of four years — happiness is always fleeting, a bittersweet undercurrent that anchors those generally buoyant movies.She is as messy and disheveled as ever, the kind of mom who sets pasta on fire and lets her young children (Mila Jankovic and Casper Knopf) run the house. Fortunately, she still has the same supporting friends (James Callis, Shirley Henderson and Sally Phillips). She also continues to hang out with the suave playboy Daniel Cleaver, portrayed, as always, by Hugh Grant — how the Bridget Jones movies have, over the years, handled this now unpalatable type qualifies as magic of the highest order. And blessedly, Emma Thompson pops back as Bridget’s gynecologist, pronouncing “syphilis” in a way that deserves to start a thousand TikTok memes.Still, it’s time for Bridget to move on and make the most of her 50s. In short order, she falls into the toned arms of the 29-year-old Roxster McDuff (Leo Woodall, “The White Lotus”), who rescues her from an ill-fated attempt to climb a tree — one of many instances of slapstick in the movie, a wise decision considering Zellweger’s expert physical comedy.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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      Disney to Diminish Content Warnings Shown Before Classic Films

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      In addition to wording changes, the warnings will no longer autoplay at the beginning of movies such as “Dumbo” and “Peter Pan.”Disney is preparing to downplay the content warnings on its streaming service that accompany classic movies that include racial stereotypes, altering their language and decreasing their visibility.The content warning that currently autoplays on Disney+ before movies such as “Dumbo” (1941) and “Peter Pan” (1953) cautions of “negative depictions and/or mistreatment of people or cultures,” adding, “These stereotypes were wrong then and are wrong now.”The new disclaimer will warn that the movie “may contain stereotypes or negative depictions” and will not appear as introductory text that plays before the beginning of a film, a company spokesman said. Instead, the language will now appear in the details section of certain films, where viewers will have to navigate to find it. (As of Wednesday morning, the original content warning still appeared on Disney+.)Disney is also changing the diversity component of how it rates its executives and makes compensation decisions. Company leaders will now be graded on a “Talent Strategy” performance factor instead of a “Diversity & Inclusion” one, Sonia Coleman, Disney’s senior executive vice president and chief human resources officer, said on Tuesday in an email seen by The New York Times. The new factor will cover how executives “incorporate different perspectives,” “cultivate an environment where all employees can thrive” and “sustain a robust pipeline.”The changes were earlier reported by Axios.The evolution of Disney’s content warnings comes in the wake of other decisions the company has made that signal a shift in strategy on hot-button cultural issues.Pixar, a division of Walt Disney Studios, removed a transgender story line from an upcoming animated series, a decision that became public in December, after the presidential election, though Disney said it was made last summer. Last year, the company also declined to release an episode of a different animated show, Disney Channel’s “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur,” that depicted a transgender character’s interest in sports.In 2022, Disney’s chief executive, Robert A. Iger, said publicly that some of the company’s products had grown too political and ordered a review of upcoming projects.In December, Disney decided to settle a defamation suit brought by President Trump for $15 million plus legal fees. The accusation concerned an on-air statement made by the ABC News anchor George Stephanopoulos that Mr. Trump had been found “liable for rape” in a New York civil trial, when in fact the president had been found liable for sexual abuse (the judge in the case noted that New York has a narrow legal definition of rape).Disney executives, including Mr. Iger, were motivated to settle primarily by the fear that the company could lose the case. But they were also worried about Mr. Trump’s treatment of ABC News should the suit continue and about the company’s reputation among the broad cross-section of consumers it wants to reach. More

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      ‘Captain America: Brave New World’ Review: Anthony Mackie’s Turn

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      The latest Marvel movie introduces a new Captain America in the form of a political thriller.Picture this: a suspected killer running from the government; a gruff president staving off enemies on a plane; a brainwashed former soldier embroiled in a conspiracy. It’s not the spiky political thrillers “The Fugitive” or “Air Force One” or “The Manchurian Candidate,” it’s “Captain America: Brave New World.”Then again, the film recruited Harrison Ford into a cinematic universe that single-handedly welded the modern movie wink — why not give us what we expect? In its early goings, “Brave New World” does indeed read partially as a paranoid ’90s genre film trapped in a Marvel movie, struggling to break free from its franchise constraints: too much setup, too many villains, too much thinly scattered lore.After Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie), a.k.a. the new Captain America, retrieves a valuable substance known as adamantium from the villain Sidewinder (Giancarlo Esposito as a hammy iteration of Gus Fring, his “Breaking Bad” character), he brings it back to a grateful President Ross (Harrison Ford). At a gathering meant to announce a global treaty around adamantium’s usage, the president is nearly assassinated by Isaiah Bradley (Carl Lumbly, a bright spot), a former soldier who goes rogue. Wilson, in turn, goes off to find the mystery villain who is controlling not only Bradley, but also what eventually becomes a hulking-mad Ross.It’s all a lot to process and yet not nearly enough to hold your attention. For all of the movie’s genre ambitions, the only wisps of tangible political intrigue to be found are in the ones unintended, or via allusions to ones already explored (global class politics and the mixed messages about a Black Captain America in the film’s TV precursor, “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”).What’s left instead is a movie whose idea of tension is mostly to move at light speed with constant explication. The film, directed by Julius Onah, has the frayed tailoring of a movie marked by reshoots and changes: The writing is stiff and the ensemble is mostly charmless, while the visuals are slapdash.As the new Captain America, Mackie was perhaps doomed from the start. And yet, he lacks the megawatt magnetism to elevate, or even just obscure, the poor construction of a tentpole franchise on his own. He is a far better actor elsewhere, but here his stand-alone avenger and the bad blockbuster only show the loose seams.What the film mostly relies on instead is Ford, not only as an actor, but as his alter ego. When the Red Hulk finally does appear, it’s an add-on — a last-ditch effort to instead recapture the kind of fan-service glee of Marvels old. With its cheap action and garish visuals, it’s then that we enter yet another genre altogether: action-figure commercial.Captain America: Brave New WorldRated PG-13 for hulk smashes. Running time: 1 hour 58 minutes. In theaters. More