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      ‘Gladiator II’ Review: Denzel Washington and Paul Mescal Entertain

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      Denzel Washington’s performance shows skill, intensity and absolute confidence in Ridley Scott’s pleasurably immersive epic about ancient Roman fighters.When Denzel Washington sweeps into “Gladiator II” — Ridley Scott’s epic about ancient Rome and men at war and sometimes in love — it’s with such easy grace that you may mistake his character’s loose bearing with indifference. What you’re seeing is power incarnate, power that’s so raw and so supremely self-possessed that it doesn’t announce itself. It just takes. And it keeps taking as warriors enter the Colosseum to fight and die in the blood sport that gives this sequel to Scott’s 2000 drama “Gladiator” its sober backdrop and much of its juice. It is a performance of charismatic evil and of mesmerizing stardom both.Like Scott’s filmmaking in this pleasurably immersive spectacle — with its foreign ancients and mentalities, exotic animals and equally unfamiliar calls to human nobility — Washington’s performance has skill, intensity and absolute confidence. Each man has an unqualified belief in entertainment as a value that’s essential to put over an old-fashioned, inherently audacious production like this, the kind that turns the past into a plaything and doesn’t ask you to worry about niceties like historical accuracy. Both director and performer are also veterans when it comes to popular audiences, and since neither has mellowed or slowed with age (Scott turns 87 this year and Washington 70), they still know how to put on a great show.The first “Gladiator” centers on a Roman general, Maximus (Russell Crowe), who circa 180 A.D. serves an aged emperor, incurs the wrath of a young usurper and ends up clanging swords in the Colosseum, where he quickly becomes a crowd favorite. Crowe, then at the height of his leading-man fame, delivered an appropriately muscular if characteristically sensitive lead performance that holds the screen even when challenged by the vulpine charisma of a scene-stealing Joaquin Phoenix as the new emperor. The two characters are dead by the end and Rome itself seems like it may follow rapidly in their wake; they and all the other ghosts from the original movie haunt the sequel, which is set 16 years later.“Gladiator II” tells the story of another righteous, ostensibly simple man, this time named Lucius (Paul Mescal) who is swept up by violent political forces seemingly beyond his control. The story opens in Numidia, a slice of land hugging the northernmost coast of the African continent. There, in a humming city, Lucius lives with his wife, and while their smiles suggest they’re happy enough, they are both soon suiting up to fight a flotilla of Roman invaders. Led by General Acacius (Pedro Pascal), the Romans make quick work of the Numidians. In this regard, the invaders are just as ruthlessly economic as Scott, who demonstrates a commensurate show of his power with the epically scaled, vividly staged and shot warfare.Fast, brutal and absorbing, the shocker opener sets the template for the rest of the movie, which plays — and often feels — like one long, inventively diverse, elaborately imaginative fight. As in the first film, the diversity of the casting here suggests the vastness of the Roman Empire, a variety that’s matched by the many ways characters die: trebuchet, arrow, sword and a (digital) menagerie that includes a saddled rhino and a troop of rampaging baboons. Every so often, the characters put down their weapons to indulge their other vices or to plot an uprising, diverting interludes that advance the narrative and add crucial rhythm, giving the characters enough time to unclench the jaws and for you to keep processing the story.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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      ‘A Traveler’s Needs’ Review: Language Lessons

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      Iris (Isabelle Huppert), a stranger who teaches French in Seoul, is at the center of an enigmatic film by Hong Sang-soo.“Why’d she come to Korea?” a man (Kwon Hae-hyo) asks his wife (Lee Hye-young) in the park, as Iris (Isabelle Huppert) is walking away from them. Iris is a stranger in Seoul who has started teaching French to the wife. Whether Iris is up to the task is uncertain. She has no background in instruction, and the only language that she and her pupils share is English, which is not a native tongue for any of them.Iris takes an oddball approach to acclimating her students to French: She extracts personal confessions from them in English, then writes wildly extrapolated versions of the French on index cards. “You’ll love your true emotion being expressed in a foreign language,” she says. Better that than to learn phrases from a textbook — something she declines to use. She is also a fiend for makgeolli, the Korean rice wine, of which she claims to drink one or two bottles every day.Is Iris for real? That question hangs over “A Traveler’s Needs,” just as it does over the career of the director Hong Sang-soo. Hong routinely turns out two features per year with methods nearly as baffling as Iris’s: His devotees see infinite subtlety in his use of theme and variation, while the skeptical can’t help but wonder if his movies have become increasingly repetitive and slapdash. In “A Traveler’s Needs,” which won second prize at the Berlin International Film Festival, the sunlit interiors often suggest a deliberately amateurish look.This is his third overall feature with Huppert, who adds drollery and an air of mystery. And there is just enough intrigue this time — one motif involves the difficulty of translating a work by Yoon Dong-ju, a Korean poet who died in 1945 after being imprisoned in Japan — to suggest hidden depths.A Traveler’s NeedsNot rated. In English, Korean (with subtitles) and French. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. In theaters. More

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      ‘Out of My Mind’ Review: Schooling a Teacher

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      In this film adaptation of Sharon M. Draper’s novel, a nonverbal sixth-grader with cerebral palsy holds her own.Like many a self-respecting tween, Melody Brooks has a thing or two to say about this and that, and a need to be heard. But that need has a particular urgency: Melody, the central character in “Out of My Mind,” has cerebral palsy and is unable to speak.Her story, set in the early aughts and based on a novel by Sharon M. Draper, arrives onscreen with a family-friendly brightness, buoyed by upbeat montages. The director, Amber Sealey, and the strong cast keep things grounded, though, honoring the serious undercurrents while having some fun.As the ultrasmart girl using a wheelchair who longs for sparkly shoes and escape from educational segregation, Phoebe-Rae Taylor (making her screen debut and infusing the part with her experience of CP) has an expressive, knowing gaze, alive with eagerness as well as exasperation. A fan of “Friends,” Melody imagines her thoughts voiced by Jennifer Aniston and, in an effectively used narrative device, Aniston delivers the 12-year-old’s openhearted and playfully snark-tinged observations. Two effortlessly charismatic performers, Rosemarie DeWitt and Luke Kirby, play Melody’s loving, charmingly harried and ever so slightly cool parents, who battle the insurance company for access to a machine, the Medi-Talker, that enables their daughter to converse with others.One of Melody’s fiercest advocates, a sweet buttinsky neighbor (Judith Light), delivers a searing piece of wisdom in plain language. Melody takes the advice to heart when given a chance to “mainstream” with other sixth graders. She holds her own with the mean girls and schools a wisenheimer teacher (Michael Chernus). Her story is told in an uncomplicated way but not without subtlety. She’s easy to root for.Out of My MindNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 42 minutes. Watch on Disney+. More

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      ‘Joy’ Review: The Humans Behind I.V.F.

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      Thomasin McKenzie plays an unheralded pioneer of in vitro fertilization in a new biography.In vitro fertilization is considered by many to be a miracle. It’s still controversial in some circles, as was seen in the recent election, when politicians made often contradictory pronouncements about it.But “Joy,” a biographical treatment of Jean Purdy, one of the pioneers of the science, while certainly waving the flag for the procedure, is primarily concerned with the human story behind the creation of I.V.F. It sets out to redress an imbalance — that the real-life Purdy, a nurse, was long unacknowledged for her work.This is one of those pictures where the actors outdo the conventional material they are given to work with. Thomasin McKenzie plays Purdy in a scenario that plays out over a decade. It begins in a British medical school with Purdy intrigued by the unorthodox theories on infertility put forth by Bill Nighy as Dr. Patrick Steptoe. Purdy, Steptoe and another doctor played with agreeable masculinity by James Norton team up and begin experimenting, understanding that their approach would attract disapprobation from religious and societal factions.And so it does — Jean is anonymously sent a doll with the word “sinner” scrawled across it in red marker. But she persists.The director, Ben Taylor, keeps the momentum up despite his weakness for marking the passage of time with eyebrow-raising needle drops. The movie is most effective in creating a rooting interest for Purdy’s character, while the maestro Nighy gets a nice juicy monologue at the end that he of course makes a meal of.JoyRated PG-13 for language and themes. Running time: 1 hour 55 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

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      ‘The Black Sea’ Review: Bulgarian Dreams

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      In this quietly sweet indie, a Black Brooklynite finds himself stranded in a Bulgarian seaside town, where he finds unlikely redemption“They have dreams in Bulgaria?” Khalid asks a man, hiding from the downpour, in “The Black Sea.” One might say they do: “Like the American dream, but in Bulgarian way,” the stranger responds. In a sense, it’s what Khalid (Derrick B. Harden) has unwittingly found as he tidies up in the cafe he’s cobbled together in a small seaside Bulgarian town.Things move fast and somehow both bizarrely and believably so at the start of this somewhat peculiar but endearing indie directed by Crystal Moselle and Harden. We’re barely introduced to Khalid, a charismatic if unfocused Brooklynite, before he finds himself stranded in Bulgaria after the sugar mama he met on Facebook and came to meet is found dead seemingly the moment he arrives.Grounded by Harden’s natural and loosely charming performance, Khalid treats his nightmare scenario with an alternating sense of anxiety and buoyant, joshing can-do attitude. He gets a job with a town-running bully (who’s also his sugar mama’s son) named Georgi (Stoyo Mirkov), but when things go sideways, he turns instead to Ina (Irmena Chichikova), a local travel agent who gives him a place to crash. He finds his footing, makes friends with locals and starts slinging open-faced grilled cheeses and matcha teas out of a makeshift cafe.The fundamentals of this film are just about as arbitrary as Khalid’s personal journey — it’s not everyday that a low-budget American indie focuses on a stranded Black Brooklynite moving and shaking his way to a new life in small-town Bulgaria. Not that there needs to be a point at all.Regardless, Moselle and Harden work with a subtle naturalistic touch that makes for a quietly sweet movie about unlikely redemption. This is mostly rooted in the partnership between Khalid and Ina, a relationship that, in its avoidance of overt romantics, blossoms and finds meaning in the gentle progression of their closeness.The Black SeaRated R for language and some sexual material. Running time: 1 hour 36 minutes. In theaters. More

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      ‘Wicked’ Review: Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande in Oz

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      Cynthia Erivo is the strongest draw in this splashy, overly long movie, which is the first installment in a two-part adaptation of the Broadway show.With its flying monkeys and magical shoes, oh my, the story of the Wizard of Oz has been lodged in the popular imagination for over a century. It is, after all, an archetypal American myth: an epic of good and evil, the comfort (and dreariness) of home, the draw (and freedom) of the road, the perils of power and the yearning for transformation. The 1939 film with Judy Garland, in particular, is so embedded in the American cinematic DNA that it’s inspired everyone from Martin Scorsese to David Lynch, Spike Lee and John Waters, who once called (accurately!) the wicked witch “every bad little boy’s and girl’s dream of notoriety and style.”I wonder what Waters will make of “Wicked” and its green-hued, deeply sincere heroine, Elphaba, a ready-made meme machine played by Cynthia Erivo in what becomes a showstopper of a performance. Both the character and the actress are the strongest draws in this splashy, largely diverting, tonally discordant and unconscionably long movie, which is the first installment in a two-part adaptation of the Broadway show “Wicked.” That juggernaut opened at the Gershwin Theater in 2003 and shows no signs of (ever) closing; it will presumably still be raking it in when “Wicked Part Two” is set to open in November 2025.Like the stage musical — Stephen Schwartz wrote the music and lyrics, while Winnie Holzman wrote the book — the movie centers on Elphaba and Glinda, short for Galinda (Ariana Grande, fiercely perky), witches from the enchanted Land of Oz. Written by Holzman and Dana Fox, it opens right after Elphaba, a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the West, is declared dead. (Dorothy is nowhere to be seen.) Glinda, a.k.a. Glinda the Good, floats in to belt the catchy “No One Mourns the Wicked,” and subsequently goes down memory lane to relate her and Elphaba’s tale, focusing on their tenure at Shiz University, a campus populated by a hardworking ensemble and anchored by a waterfront, Disney-esque turreted castle.“Wicked” is based on Gregory Maguire’s 1995 novel “Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West,” and the big surprise in each work is that Elphaba isn’t as bad as her reputation. Hers is a classic saga of misunderstanding retooled for contemporary sensibilities, a chronicle of alienation and belonging, inchoate desire and heavy-handed moralizing that, onscreen, begins in Munchkinland when her father was the governor, her mother was a cheat and Elphaba the inconvenient result. At some point, her mother dies, as they do in fairy tales, and Elphaba grows into a sober, bespectacled child the color of farm-fresh asparagus (Karis Musongole) and, in short order, a serious, very talented melancholic.The director Jon M. Chu opens “Wicked” big and only goes bigger, at times to a fault. His credits include “Crazy Rich Asians” and the musical “In the Heights,” but “Wicked” is a horse of another color and it’s filled with huge sets, some dozen musical numbers and many moving parts that generations of fans know intimately. From the start, Chu gives “Wicked” an accelerated pace, amping it with restless, swooping camerawork and overloading it with a surfeit of everything, with ceaselessly moving bodies and eye-popping props. There’s much to ooh and ahh over, be it Elphaba’s eyeglasses with their seashell spiral or her beautiful Issey Miyake-style pleats, but Chu’s revved-up maximalism doesn’t leave much room to savor it.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 Piano Lesson’ Review: Ghosts in the Instrument

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      This film adaptation of August Wilson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning play falters in some specifics, but is still vital viewing.Riddle me this: When is a piano not merely a piano? Answer: In “The Piano Lesson,” where one piano contains a whole world.A whole family’s world, anyhow. The piano in question is an old upright, carved all over with the faces and figures of departed ancestors and stolen from the white Mississippi man who once enslaved members of this family. For Berniece (Danielle Deadwyler), that means it’s sacred, a link to past trauma and resilience that must be preserved.For her brother, Boy Willie (John David Washington), the piano represents something else: money. More precisely, when he looks at the piano he sees the cash he needs to buy a piece of land back home in Mississippi and set up his own farm. That’s why he’s traveled up here to Pittsburgh, where Berniece lives with her daughter, Maretha (Skylar Aleece Smith), and an uncle, Doaker Charles (Samuel L. Jackson). Ostensibly Boy Willie has come to sell watermelons to locals with his friend Lymon (Ray Fisher). But it’s the piano he’s after.To others, the piano means other things. For Avery (Corey Hawkins), an elevator operator who dreams of starting a church and marrying Berniece, the piano offers the possibility of a stable future. But for Doaker Charles’s brother Wining Boy (Michael Potts), the instrument is a reminder of the exhilarating, unrelenting life he once lived on the road as a successful pianist, before he became washed up and broke.In 1990, “The Piano Lesson” won the eminent playwright August Wilson his second of two Pulitzers for drama. It’s part of his Pittsburgh Cycle (sometimes called his Century Cycle), a set of 10 decade-spanning plays about Black American life, all set in Pittsburgh. It’s been staged repeatedly since then; the 2022 Broadway revival starred Washington, Jackson and Fisher in the same roles they play in this film.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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      Vic Flick, Guitarist Who Plucked the James Bond Theme, Dies at 87

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      A busy session musician, he also recorded music for the Beatles’ film “A Hard Day’s Night” and contributed to several hit songs.Vic Flick, a British guitarist whose driving riff in the theme for the James Bond movies captured the spy’s suave confidence and tacit danger, died on Nov. 14 in Los Angeles. He was 87.His death, in a nursing facility, was announced on social media by his son, Kevin, who said the cause was Alzheimer’s disease.The Bond films produced signature catchphrases (“shaken, not stirred,” “Bond, James Bond”) that have been endlessly recited and parodied since “Dr. No,” the first in the series, was released in Britain in 1962. But it was the sound of Mr. Flick’s guitar in the opening credits that helped make the spy thrillers instantly recognizable.During the title credits of “Dr. No,” when moviegoers were introduced to or reacquainted with the works of the author Ian Fleming, who wrote the James Bond books, Mr. Flick’s thrumming guitar sounded out through a brass-and-string orchestra.“The selection of strings available in the late ’50s and early ’60s was abysmal compared to today,” he wrote in his 2008 autobiography, “Vic Flick, Guitarman: From James Bond to The Beatles and Beyond.”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