TWO SHORT REVIEWS AND SOME THOUGHTS ON THE GOLDEN GLOBES.

I'm still adjusting to the new normal for movies, notably, watching them on TV first because their theatrical release was extremely limited by either time or location. I'm planning to brave the Chicago traffic and head downtown later this week to see Maestro before it heads to Netflix.

That said, there are a few critically acclaimed movies that barely visited theaters this fall before heading straight to streaming services, so while waiting for Poor Things and Wonka to open this weekend, I spent some time checking on May December and Leave the World Behind, both currently playing on Netflix. Both are free if you have a Netflix subscription.

May December

I really wanted to like this movie: great cast led by Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore and directed by Todd Haynes, whose signature style of provocative filmmaking (The Velvet Goldmine, Far From Heaven, I'm Not There and Carol, to name a few) always challenges traditional narrative styles and often explores complex sexual and erotic themes.

May December is not-so-loosely based on the Mary Kay Letourneau case from the 1990s, where Letourneau was convicted of raping one of her sixth grade students and then went on to have children with him, one born while she was in prison. Despite public condemnation and a seven-year prison sentence, Letourneau married her former student in 2005. They divorced in 2019. Letourneau died the following year.

Haynes' story, a dark comedy that screenwriter Samy Burch co-wrote with husband Alex Mechanik, is set twenty years after Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore) became a tabloid sensation, and takes place during a Memorial Day weekend visit from Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman), an actress preparing to play Gracie in an upcoming movie. Gracie and her former student/now husband Joe (Charlie Melton) have three teenaged children and living in Savannah, George, trying to escape the media scrutiny that dominated the early years of their relationship. Eliazabeth's visit threatens to bring up long-suppressed feelings and unspoken truths both have ignored or repressed for decades.

All of this - and the actors involved - set the tone for an absorbing interplay underscored by a lurid, forbidden love. Unfortunately, very little of the characters or the situation delivers in this meandering cat-and-mouse exchange puntuated by sexual flirtation (Elizabeth and Joe), erotic suggestion (Elizabeth and Gracie), emotional confusion (all). Like Saltburn, audiences don't seem to grasp the ending, so numerous social media outlets have attempted to explain Haynes' opaque

finale. Suffice to say, there is no real closure or resolution, no ending - happy or un - to satisfy the story's premise.

That's not to say that the movie isn't worth a look - Portman, Moore and especially Melton are all on their "A" game, and Haynes' usual quirkiness is on fully display. Ambiguity defines much of the dialogue, plot, and outcome. What's missing is any meaningful connection to the characters, who remain detached and seem disconnected from each other. And from us. I really didn't care about any of them (well, maybe a bit for Melton's Joe), and I left the movie kind of nonplussed. Maybe that was Haynes' intention. But it felt like something was missing.

Early awards nominations have centered around Melton as Supporting Actor. He recently won the NY Film Critics award and has been nominated for both Golden Globe and Critics Choice Awards. He's in a tough and crowded category, with Robert Downey Jr. and Ryan Gosling providing strong competition. Portman and Moore have also received some recognition, as has the film, though it's doubtful either will survive the final cut come Oscar time.

Ultimately, the biggest issue May December may be facing is labeling it a "comedy." Though the humor is dark and probably necessary to break the tension of an often tense situation (Hollywood actress insinuates herself into the lives of a controversial couple), the humor isn't funny and sometimes feels incongruous with other, more serious themes of sexuality, rape and media obsession. I sometimes felt like I was eavesdropping on a private conversation, an unwanted interloper in otherwise surreptitious exchanges.

Leave the World Behind. Or "The One About the Apocalypse."

If you like movies like Terrence Malick's Tree of Life, you know, the kind filled with heavy-handed symbolism and important messages, where characters spew platitudes about life, death, planet earth, and where everything from heavenly poised camera angles to close-ups of expensive shoes moving stealthfully across the floor in an abandoned house has significance, and every creak of the leather is magnified, you'll love writer/director Sam Esmail's Leave the World Behind.

The movie, about a disillusioned middle-aged woman named Amanda Sanford (Julia Roberts), who wakes up one day and impulsively arranges for her family to take an impromptu vacation (in a state-of-the-air Air BnB, no less - who affords this things?), only to experience a catastraphic end-of-world calamity: no WiFi or communication, unexplained disappearances, mysterious visitors, climate disasters, highway panic and chaos, and the strange appearance of a herd of deer. All of this - and more - about as pretentious and affected as any film I've seen in a long time.

Executive-produced by Barack and Michelle Obama (yes, the former POTUS and FLOTUS), and based on the psychological thriller by Rumaan Alam, Leave the World Behind received brief buzz when the NY Times touted it as one of the year's best. Boasting a cast led by Oscar winners Julia Robers and Mahershala Ali and (perennial) Oscar nominee Ethan Hawke, the movie had all the makings of a box office (or, at least, a Netflix) hit on paper.

But remember, that what looks good on paper doesn't always deliver on the screen. I kept thinking about Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson in the film adaptation of William Kennedy's Ironweed (1988). Had all the makings of a classic movie, except the director (Hector Babenco) made a mess of the Depression-Era story by too many cinematic tricks, notably the re-appearing "ghosts" that haunt both Streep and Nicholson's characters. Unlike the disgraced Chicago Black Sox team that emerges from an Iowa cornfield in Field of Dreams, the spectres in Ironweed seem silly and incongruent with the story's dismal plot, distracting from the story.

In Leave the World Behind, Esmail's use of camera techniques to build tension becomes more annoying with every scene. No detail goes unnoticed. No red herring is left untouched. At a very long two hours and twenty minutes, I just wanted the suspense to end, even if the world didn't.

It's too bad. Roberts, Hawke and Ali do their best to keep the tension building, even if they are clearly playing "types" rather than characters. This is the third time this year I've watched a movie with a college professor/academic, and all are hapless, inept souls who seem incapable of functioning in the real world. Here, Hawke (playing Roberts' husband Clay), who teaches Media Studies, seems clueless about technology, climate change, or even navigating without his GPS. It's no wonder his two children are endlessly bored and reduced to watching video games and reruns of Friends.

Like Saltburn and May December, Leave the World Behind is leaving audiences confused. Social media offers multiple explanations of the movie's ending. Guess no one understands the penultimate joy Amanda's daughter Rose feels when she discovers she can finally watch the last episode of Friends via DVD. What that? And what's next? Cranking up the old Victrola for fun?

For me, the essence of Leave the World Behind was found in the first five minutes when Roberts' Amanda declares, "I fucking hate people." Yeah. That about sums it up. No need to spin a more profound narrative than that.

The Golden Globes and more...

Let's be honest. The Golden Globe Awards, formerly awarded by the now-defunct Hollywood Foreign Press (HFP), has never been a reliable predictor of the Oscars. Though often touted as the "first" big show of the awards season, the Globes mostly provided an opportunity for a small group of (sometimes dubious) journalists to hob-nob with celebrities. Remember the nominations for Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie in 2010's The Tourist, a thoroughly laughable thriller set in Venice in which obvious deception passes for tintillating romance? No? Probably best if you don't.

On the other hand, the Globes have offered a few interesting nominations for fine performances otherwise overlooked by Oscar over the years: Sharon Stone in Casino and Madonna in Evita are two examples of the HFP going outside the more conventional choices of other awards groups and giving actors their due. They also separate drama from comedy for both television and film awards, which opens up recognition for fine comedic performances that typically get lost in the gravitas of other awards that continue to believe drama is more important - and harder to do - than comedy. Not so.

The past few years, the Globes have been mirred in internal controversy: lack of diversity among the less than 100 HFP members that manifested in a lack of diverse nominations. Questions about the Globes' nomination process were raised. Celebrities began boycotting the ceremony. Tom Cruise returned his Globe awards in protest of HFP's lack of transparency and diversity. Networks refused to air the ceremony.

This year, with the dissolution of HFP as we've known it, the Globes are back with a larger voting membership (about 300), and more divesity among its members. Awards' categories have been expanded from five nominees to six (not sure that's necessary or what one additional nominee will mean for eventual winners), and CBS/Paramount have signed on to televise/stream.

All that said, this week's big reveal of nominees was neither shocking nor ground--breaking. Most anticipated nominees from films like Barbie and Oppenheimer secured a spot. Other acclaimed movies, from big projects like Killers of the Flower Moon to smaller, indie films like Past Lives (check out my review from earlier this year), were included in various categories.

The big "snub" - or, at least, the one that got some cyber-ink, was The Color Purple, which received only two acting nominations (Lead and Supporting Actress in a Musical or Comedy). Trailers for the film have been in theaters since the summer, with the executive producers' names leading the preview: Oprah Winfrey, Steven Spielberg, and Quincy Jones. Talk about a high-powered, high-profile triumverate.

Still, this bold new vision of a classic aimed at a new generation is the movie version of a Broadway musical which was the musical version of a Broadway play preceded by a film version (directed by Spielberg and co-starring Winfrey), of a Pulitzer-prize winning novel of the same name by Alice Walker. Whew. Got all that? I mean, really, how many versions of the same story do we need? Are there no other compelling stories about the black experience worth telling?

When the original 1985 movie was released, I remember well all the hoopla and praise for it as being revolutionary, calling it Spielberg's first "serious" film. I also recall being somewhat underwhelmed by this version as, having read the book, I thought Spielberg watered down the racism, sexism, misogyny and provacative sexuality Walker so beautifully portrayed in her book. Whether adding music takes the story up or down remains to be seen, but I'm reserving judgment about a snub until I see the film. It opens in theaters nationwide Christmas Day.

A few days after the Globes were announced, the Critics Choice nominations were revealed. The Color Purple again received few nominations compared to Barbie and Oppenheimer. CP's four nominations included Hair and Make-up, Costume Design, Acting Ensemble and Supporting Actress (Daniell Brooks). Keep in mind that the Globes do not award the first three categories, so the only real holdover is Supporting Actress. Not sure one can make the case for a "snub" in this instance. Perhaps that there are other movies more deserving of the nominations.

We'll see. Awards season is just getting underway, with the SAG, BAFTA, and Oscar nominations yet to come. And more movies for me to see. I'm looking forward to a full and robust holiday movie season, so look for my reviews of Wonka, Poor Things, Maestro, American Fiction, The Color Purple, Ferrari (the one really snubbed so far), and more in the coming weeks.

Get the popcorn ready!

And PS: Maybe the next crop of movies won't require multiple explanations of the plot, the ending, or the film's purpose. A little ambiguity is good, but total obscurity is another thing. Here's hoping.