Eavesdropping At The Movies

We're joined by Dr. Ben Lamb of Teesside University, television scholar and Sopranos megafan, to discuss The Many Saints of Newark, the prequel to The Sopranos. Set in the 1960s and 1970s, it depicts a young Tony Soprano - played by James Gandolfini's son, Michael - and offers a portrait of the family, time, place and culture that shaped him, but focuses primarily on his uncle Dickie, to whom he looks up. We also discuss the film's incorporation of the 1967 Newark riots, and the black gang that rivals the Italians'; how violence is used and what it expresses about the characters; whether the film is cinematic; and whether some of its characters' actions are believable. And, key to the discussion: While Ben and José are familiar with the show, Mike's never made it past episode one, and that disparity raises questions - how much knowledge of the show is required to understand this film, how much does it reward fan investment, and does it inspire Mike to finally watch the series? Recorded on 26th September 202

Aretha Franklin, an icon of American music, receives a dispiritingly by-the-numbers biopic in Respect, which takes this perfect subject for such a film and does nothing very interesting with her. We discuss, among other topics, the film's dependence on clichés, its poor lighting, Franklin's relationship with her father and upbringing in a prosperous household, Jennifer Hudson's performance in the central role, and that scene, so common to music biopics, in which the signature song is developed. If one of the functions of the biopic is to introduce newcomers to a person's work and provide an insight into what made them worthy of their story being told... then the Queen of Soul needs another biopic. Respect certainly isn't devoid of entertaining and engaging moments, but, ultimately, it fails its subject. Recorded on 14th September 2021.

The fairytale figure of the undine has been used and developed in the arts for two hundred years, and Christian Petzold, whose Transit we loved, brings his clear-eyed but sensitive aesthetic to it in Undine. Paula Beer plays the titular character with transparent emotion, in the opening scene regretfully informing her ex-boyfriend, as he dumps her, that she will have to kill him. It's a moment that captures the timbre of the film that follows - fantastical, potent, full of drama, but grounded throughout. We also discuss Undine's knowing and deliberate setting against a sociopolitical backdrop, the film devoting significant time to Undine's lectures on the history of Berlin, tying them and the city to her relationships, and the way the film conveys the tactility of new lovers, unable to keep from touching each other. We disagree on the film's greatness - to Mike, it's something of a trifle, particularly in comparison with Transit, but José is in deep love with it. But we're agreed that it's well worth your ti

Based on the trailer, Mike was interested in The Night House, a horror film about a recently bereaved woman and the secrets she discovers her husband was keeping - but it took him a good third of the film's duration to remember why. It's an ugly film, one of the poorest-lit you're likely to see, and the culmination of its mystery is almost offensively stupid. José finds the thematic ground it covers has potential, and Rebecca Hall's performance is very good - she's unafraid to make herself unlikeable, which is likeable indeed. Still, she's really the only reason to see it. If you actually can see it through the terrible lighting. Recorded on 13th September 2021.

A new day, a new entry in the MCU, and on this occasion we're introduced to an entirely new set of characters and mythos: Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings fills us in on the history of a young Chinese-American man and his dad's magical jewellery. Like Doctor Strange and Black Panther, it's a film whose connection to the wider MCU is light, establishing characters, a setting, and story elements that are certain to tie in to subsequent films, but free of the obligation to prioritise them at the expense of itself. And like Doctor Strange and Black Panther, that freedom works in its favour - it's of a piece, interesting, pretty, and entertaining. We discuss the film's setting in a Chinese-American immigrant context, comparing it in particular to The Farewell and Crazy Rich Asians: all three films dramatise the cultural differences between the new and old country, and the ways in which the younger generation might face challenges in visiting or returning to their ancestral home. Indeed, Awkwafina appears

Benedict Cumberbatch gets himself embroiled in the Cuban Missile Crisis in The Courier, a dramatisation of the true story of Greville Wynne, a British businessman recruited by MI6 to smuggle Soviet secrets provided by high-ranking GRU officer Oleg Penkovsky. It's a film that offers pleasures in its performances and in the telling of a story you likely haven't heard, but its storytelling is often banal and sometimes unclear, and, José contends, it's full of tricks and tropes that are just there for effect - and often not very good ones. Steven Spielberg's Bridge of Spies, set in a similar period of the Cold War and also telling a true story of a citizen's recruitment to engage in an overseas mission, is an obvious point of comparison, and perhaps The Courier's greatest gift is that its mediocrity helps to show off just how assured and polished is Spielberg's cinematic technique, even if the ideological purposes to which he puts it leave us rolling our eyes. The Courier isn't a terrible film, and its performan

Ryan Reynolds' schtick, so irritating for so long, is winning us back, and Free Guy is built around his entire star persona, the self-effacing originality of which José remarks upon. Reynolds plays Guy, a videogame non-player character - an extra, essentially, following a programmed routine within a virtual world - with a lightness and sweetness that defines the tone of the entire film. We discuss what the film represents about videogame culture and what it discards, the desire for romance that drives the story, what Mike questions about its ending, and more. Free Guy is a charming and entertaining action comedy, whether you know games or not. Recorded on 23rd August 2021.

Matt Damon gives arguably a career best performance in Stillwater, as a tightly-wound, reserved, Oklahoma roughneck doing his best to support his daughter, who has been convicted of murder and resides in a Marseille prison. We discuss the film's origins in the real case of Amanda Knox and Meredith Kercher, consider how well the characterisation works and where it might fail, and work through our fundamental responses to the film: for José, it's is an unusual and complex critique of American society and culture; for Mike, it's hard to take seriously, its animus obvious and milquetoast. Wherever you land, though, Stillwater is a deeply engrossing drama and worth seeing. Recorded on 6th August 2021.

Disney has already turned one of its theme park rides into a box office colossus - is it time for another? They seem to think so, bringing us Jungle Cruise, an adaptation of one of the attractions from Disneyland's grand opening in 1955, the Jungle River Cruise, starring The Rock, who we still refuse to call Dwayne Johnson, Emily Blunt, and Jack Whitehall, as explorers searching for the Tree of Life. The film gives the ride more than a nod and a wink, The Rock's character operating a cruise along the Brazilian Amazon, complete with the real ride's cheesy dad jokes - and there's effort made to reckon with the attraction's history of racist representation of indigenous peoples. How successfully it does so is up for debate, the film indulging in its own cultural imperialism - despite being set in Brazil, there isn't a word of Portuguese spoken; and no matter the purity of their intention, the characters are still in Brazil to take something that doesn't belong to them. We also discuss the film's feminism and s

Freely based, as the closing credits tell us, on Jean Cocteau's 1930 play of the same name, The Human Voice sees Spanish auteur Pedro Almodóvar working in the English language for the first time. The play has long been on Almodóvar's mind, inspiring, significantly, Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown, among other works of his, and this short film joins the pantheon of adaptations of the play, which has seen its single character, a woman speaking on the phone to an unseen, unheard lover, played by such stars as Sophia Loren, Ingrid Bergman, and Anna Magnani. Here, Tilda Swinton plays that role, bringing to it a sense of reserve that didn't quite make sense to José until the final sequence and the resolution to the story - perhaps an effect of having seen the play adapted so many times and not having seen the character played this way before. Conversely, Mike feels he instinctively understands the character, remarking upon her change from being out of place, both geographically and emotionally, to her as

A chamber piece that asks what happens when your life of carefully constructed lies is exposed, Shiva Baby is a smart, tense comedy set in that most aggravating of situations: the funeral, in which you're forced to be judged by lots of people you want to avoid but aren't allowed to kick up a stink. We discuss debut writer-director Emma Seligman's handling of the story's shifts in tone, in particular how she intensely ekes out tension; the light in which it depicts its women, who bookend scenes with sarcastic off-screen barbs and gossip; and the main character's relationship to technology, and how her use of it to seek power is a double-edged sword. Recorded on 6th August 2021.

Apparently dissatisfied with the dismal reception of 2016's Suicide Squad, DC has bravely decided to vaguely reboot the property with a spot-the-difference name change to The Suicide Squad, probably hoping that this new film will effortlessly send its predecessor down the memory hole. We ask whether it hits that whimsical tone it clearly wants to and discuss imperialism, satire, racism, gazing at males, rats, story structure, excessive volume and more. Recorded on 3rd August 2021.

Reminding José of 1970s auteur exploitation movies and Mike of The Twilight Zone, M. Night Shyamalan's Old confines its characters, and most of its action, to an isolated beach at a high-class tropical resort. As you might expect with Shyamalan, it's best seen with little advance knowledge, as the plot twists and turns, revelations throwing previous events into new light. But we do, indeed, encourage you to see it - it's perhaps the most entertaining film Shyamalan's made in some time, and although his dialogue isn't the finest you'll ever hear, his camerawork is some of the most interesting. He's a director who always seeks an interesting or expressive composition, who isn't satisfied with shot-reverse shot, and his enthusiasm for the image is infectious. Some things could be better - some dramatic moments could be heightened, and it's a fairly thin film that may not reward a second viewing, when there's no hope of surprise. But the first viewing is an engrossing one, and we recommend it. Recorded on 24th

1996's Space Jam is beloved of people Mike's age throughout the Western hemisphere, despite basketball's limited reach beyond North America - it was a Looney Tunes film, full of imagination and laughs, and is today a nostalgic linchpin for millennials. And because millennials now make films, it's back, twenty years on, with Space Jam: A New Legacy, featuring LeBron James in Michael Jordan's central role as the basketball star who joins forces with the Looney Tunes to defeat a team of superpowered villains. But the wit and tone of the 1996 original is nowhere to be found here, beyond those unacceptably brief moments in which Bugs Bunny and co. get to shine. There's a heavy focus on family, a theme that's come up more than a few times on recent podcasts and never feels intelligently explored, with LeBron's son held hostage in scenes that are supposed to heighten the sense of threat but in fact just grind any sense of entertainment to dust. But even that isn't the film's biggest problem - it's the corporate pro

What began twenty years ago as a series of car chases and races has since spiralled out of control into an action behemoth encompassing ten films, a TV series, videogames, and theme park attractions. But for the spinoff film Hobbs & Shaw, Fast and Furious 9 is Mike's introduction to the Fast & Furious series, with José having seen some of the previous instalments, but not all. We discuss the soap opera storytelling, the way it expresses humour - what it thinks are jokes are really just aggressive, macho posturing - and what it thinks of intelligence, José contending that it represents the worst of American culture in privileging stupidity and making it victorious, with Mike offering a complementary drop of nuance, arguing that it does at least believe that its heroes are smart... but it's a stupid person's idea of what being smart is. Core to the film's failings is its almost complete lack of irony, only the car-turned-space shuttle indicating that the film has any understanding of comedy and how absurd it a

Marvel's triumphant return to our cinemas is... a film that fills in a plot hole nobody cared about for a character who not only should have had a standalone film long before now but who has since been killed off. To say that Black Widow feels like a kick in the teeth is an understatement, but still, the MCU is back with us and we see what it has to offer. And what it presents us with is something much more earthbound than the spacefaring antics in which Marvel has increasingly indulged: a good old-fashioned Russian spy story, and a family reunion of sorts, Natasha Romanoff driven to reconnect with the other undercover Russian agents who formed her surrogate family as a child. We ask whether the theme of family is done justice here, especially the father's part in its expression. And, among others, we ask questions of the action filmmaking, the lack of humour in heroes, Romanoff's conceptualisation, how the women are filmed, and whether it's necessary to eschew edginess in order to pursue a progressive polit

An offbeat, gentle, surreal, intriguing and slightly camp comic drama, French Exit is a pleasant surprise for us both. Michelle Pfeiffer's widowed heiress, reduced to selling her late husband's property, takes what's left of her life - her cat, adult son, and attitude - to an apartment in Paris, where she resolves to spend her remaining money before ending her life. Sounds hilarious. And indeed it is, its director, Azazel Jabocs, demonstrating a mastery of tone. We discuss what makes the film work, its visual design, its relationship with and attitude towards money, how that campness José perceives is kept subdued, and more. French Exit isn't a perfect film by any means, but it is a good one, and a charming way to spend a couple of hours. Recorded on 4th July 2021.

The sequel to one of the first films we discussed on Eavesdropping at the Movies, The Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard reunites Samuel L. Jackson's hitman, Ryan Reynolds' bodyguard, and Salma Hayek's hitman's wife - whose role is significantly expanded from the first film's bit part. The vaguely sketched plot - Antonio Banderas wants to blow up Europe or something, and that's enough detail - is the wire hanger upon which jokes and comic character interplay are draped, but, crucially, is the comedy successful? Whether it is or isn't, and what we read into the audience response, is up for discussion, as is the deployment of the stars' personas and cinematic histories, what renders Ryan Reynolds' schtick endearing here where it's normally irritating, and whether the film's sexual dimension is overly vulgar or too one-sided. José has seen The Hitman's Wife's Bodyguard twice now, and is no less in thrall to Hayek's aggressive, wild performance the second time, loudly and enthusiastically responding to it. Mike is much

Before Lin-Manuel Miranda shot to fame in the mid-2010s with Hamilton, he had already enjoyed success with his 2005 musical, In the Heights, with a book by Quiara Alegría Hudes, winning four Tonys for its Broadway production in 2008. Set in Washington Heights, a largely Dominican neighbourhood in Upper Manhattan, it now comes to cinemas, following the lives, struggles and dreams of its inhabitants, who simply cannot stop singing. Well, singing and rapping - and it's the rapping that shines, Miranda's lyrics as witty and intricate as those in Hamilton, while the singing is less impressive, and the domain of the film's women, who Mike wishes had been given the opportunity to rap. We discuss our disappointment in the direction - the film is full of visual ideas that aren't executed to their fullest potential - and its relationship to the cultures and peoples it portrays. In the Heights has its flaws, but despite them, it's an immensely likeable portrait of life in its locale, José in particular, an immigrant t

We explore Come and See, a 1985 Soviet film whose reputation precedes it - it's regarded as one of the greatest war films of all time. In 1943 Belarus, a young teenager, Flyora, joins the resistance, but as he travels from village to village across Nazi-occupied Belarus, experiencing worsening horrors and atrocities brought upon the locals, the extent to which he is out of his depth gradually becomes clearer and clearer. Part of Come and See's reputation is of being hard to watch, something we both take issue with - it goes to some deeply unpleasant places, but it's a gradual descent rather than an onslaught. That the film is regarded as such a trial has likely caused some filmgoers to unnecessarily avoid an experience that they would value. While it depicts shocking imagery and events, it's shot with an ethical eye - everything that's shown has a purpose, and that which would be excessively prurient is often avoided. We also consider the use of supernatural and fairytale aesthetics to place us in the mind