Déjà vu Dalliance

Ah, vacation time. Nothing like getting that call out of the blue – excited to be invited on a golf trip, to be asked to go down south (avoiding the winter blues), or to fly over to Europe. . . alas, this is not the case in today’s feature. Our protagonist, negotiator/arbitrator Mason Skiles (Jon Hamm), is strong-armed into taking a flight over to Beirut (a place he has vowed never to return to again – and also the title of the film) to give a so-called “academic lecture” – as we all know, this supposed job is simply cover for something decidedly more shady. Scribed by Bourne franchise writer Tony Gilroy (his previous effort to this, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story) and directed by Brad Anderson (Transsiberian), the pair actually open the film in Beirut (1972) ten years prior to when our story takes place, a glimpse into the man’s past in the city. Flash forward a decade and Skiles is a shell of the man he once was – a disjointed alcoholic living a fugue state instead of a life.

One of the most divisive films of the year – a love it or hate it type (in which most fall into the latter) is Vaughn Stein’s 2018 flick Terminal. . . a feature steeped in film noir, dystopic future and gothic horror, a glossy B movie that pays tribute to the 1940s, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, the films of Brian De Palma, Quentin Tarantino, Guy Ritchie and tales the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and Lewis Carroll. As if dropped down the proverbial rabbit hole, Stein transports us into a dichotomous world, wet and sleek, decrepit and glossy, dangerously alluring, a Terminal (that seems to lead to nowhere) in which we find Annie (Margot Robbie) spinning her nasty web. Porting numerous garbs (one a striking red coat) and hair resembling Veronica Lake, the forking story has her working in the looming locale’s all-night diner. . . a waitress with a sharp tongue and cantankerously flirtatious attitude. Chatting up a sickly English professor, Bill (Simon Pegg), as he waits for the arrival of the next train to nowhere, his illness piques the fatale in the femme.

Finding its cinematic milieu somewhere between The Big Chill and The Hangover, 2018's Tag is at times infantile, crude, and must be described as all-around silly, yet, despite this, director Jeff Tomsic pieces it all together in a surprisingly entertaining way – hitting the right chord by way of its stylized action set pieces, clever dialogue and its unique plot (childhood comradery maintained over thirty long years by way of a simple kid’s game). Written for the screen by Mark Steilen and Rob McKittrick (and based upon a Wall Street Journal article entitled, “It Takes Planning, Caution to Avoid Being It” by Russell Adams – meaning that this is another based on true events tale), it tells the story of a group of friends who have been playing the same game of tag for thirty years (each May being the month where the all-out warfare happens). Now living in different cities, the group is comprised of an overly cocky businessman named Bob Callahan (Jon Hamm), a divorced, unemployed druggie, Randy ‘Chilli’ Cillano (Jake Johnson), a mentally fragile, outside the box thinker, Kevin Sable (Hannibal Buress), and the heart behind keeping the guys united, Hogan ‘Hoagie’ Malloy (Ed Helms). . . then there is their long hunted target, the hot-shot of the gang, Jerry Pierce (Jeremy Renner) – a man who has never been tagged in the three decades they have been playing (through a clever combination of speed, smarts, and feral brawn).

“The Road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can. . .” – a beautiful, and perhaps slightly ominous passage by J.R.R. Tolkien. . . it is also a quotation that speaks to the post-apocalyptic film simply titled The Road (2009). Based upon Cormac McCarthy’s novel of the same name, John Hillcoat transports us into a bleak, dying land – with frequent earthquakes and mass fires, it is as if every tree had burned and volcano erupted, an ashen world that no long shines. All animals are extinct, bugs are now almost mythical creatures. Less driven by plot than a credo, our main characters, a Man (Viggo Mortensen) and his Boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee), follow a well worn road to the coast. Though it is likely that there is no more hope there than where they came from, it is their goal, the thing that drives them forward, their lifeblood.

There is a fascinating duality to the old west. Still mostly unsullied, the natural landscape was peaceful, serene, carrying with it an almost quiet solemnity (a new life filled with hope), yet, in the blink of an eye, violence could rear its ugly head, leaving behind a long lasting wake of pain, hurt, melancholy, and anger. An existential study of the clash of cultures, and the grey areas that sit in the large milieu between war and peace, Scott Cooper’s 2017 western Hostiles is a film that pays tribute to the past whilst speaking to the present unrest found in the world today. Centred around a man of conviction, stoic military veteran Capt. Joseph J. Blocker (Christian Bale), he has made his living off of slaughtering the native hordes that disrupt America’s Manifest Destiny. Called into the office of his superior, Col. Abraham Biggs (Stephen Lang), early one morning, he is less than pleased to learn that his final assignment (before retiring) will be to transport a cancer-riddled Cheyenne war chief, Yellow Hawk (Wes Studi), and his family, including son Black Hawk (Adam Beach), from New Mexico to his homelands of Montana – at the bequest of President Harrison. At first willing to disobey orders on his principles (Yellow Hawk was responsible for killing many of his colleagues and friends), the Colonel threatens to court-martial him and remove his pension – basically forcing him to take the job.