Chris Evans and Mckenna Grace soar in “Gifted,” a warm-hearted, albeit predictable dramedy whose powerhouse performances drastically outweigh the shortcomings of its conventional narrative.

After the passing of his sister, Frank [Chris Evans] acquires sole custody of his niece Mary, [Mckenna Grace], a child prodigy well beyond her years. Frank has every intention on making sure that, despite her heightened mental sensibilities, Mary experiences a normal childhood. However, this all changes when Evelyn [Lindsay Duncan], Frank’s formidable mother, comes into the picture with the intent of endowing Mary with a top-tier education in an academy for gifted students. With the looming threat of Evelyn’s custody battle, Frank is forced to question whether or not his ideology is in Mary’s best interest.

samantha moore / contributing artist

Trading Spider-Man for Captain America, Director Marc Webb arrives back on the indie scene with “Gifted,” a delightful dramedy with two tremendous lead performances. The film’s success is dependent on the relationship dynamic between Chris Evans and Mckenna Grace, and by god do they work well with one another.

Frank is a well-intentioned father figure who yearns for Mary to experience a childhood in which she acquires much-needed social skills. At the same time, he recognizes that placing her in a first grade classroom prohibits her range, as Mary is mentally superior in comparison to her first grade classmates. Frank’s dedication to his sister’s wishes makes for a compelling inner conflict that only the charismatic Chris Evans is able to bring to light.

Meanwhile, Mckenna Grace steals the show as the assertive and intelligent Mary. Unphased by the consequences of her actions, Mary is sometimes prone to violence against other students, mainly bullies. You can tell that underneath her hardened, know-it-all exterior, she wants what everyone around has: normalcy. Well-aware of her gift, Mary strives to achieve a well-structured balance between child prodigy and active kid, despite every obstacle thrown her way.

Without these two performances, the familiarity of “Gifted” becomes more apparent. Rob Simonsen’s score swells up throughout every emotional beat in it’s attempt to elicit tears; there’s no subtlety in how this film wants to make you feel. It’s designed to tug at the heartstrings, but at least I can tell that Marc Webb’s heart is prevalent throughout.

“Gifted” is harmlessly predictable, telegraphing its outcome from the first scene to its calculated courtroom proceedings. And for some reason, an out of place third-act antagonist angle sneaks its way in towards the film’s conclusion to minimal effect. But in the end, the performances are so charming, especially the side of additions of Octavia Spencer and Jenny Slate, that you’ll follow them along their journey even if it’s an accustomed pathway.

Rating: B-

Matt can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com

Loaded with an abundance of fast cars, scantily-clad bikini girls and charismatic personalities, “The Fate of the Furious” marks yet another chaotic spectacle that somehow reaches unfathomable heights of pure absurdity.

Just when Dominic Toretto [Vin Diesel] thought he could settle down with his wife Letty [Michelle Rodriguez], a new threat emerges in the form of Cipher [Charlize Theron], an accomplished cyberterrorist with the far-reaching ability to orchestrate mass mayhem at her fingertips.

courtney bethel / equinox staff

Determined to see Dom carry out her destructive agenda, Cipher preys on his internal weakness, forcing him to betray everything he stands for.

With Dom working side by side with a devious criminal mastermind, his former crew [Dwayne Johnson, Tyrese Gibson, Chris ‘Ludacris’ Bridges, Nathalie Emmanuel and Kurt Russell] is dispatched on a perilous mission to put an end to Cipher’s reign, woefully unprepared for the pandemonium she has in store for them.

If there was ever a film in which a director captured the precise visual representation of a small child running amok throughout a toy store, “The Fate of the Furious” is the closest one could possibly get. Fresh off the critically acclaimed hip-hop biopic “Straight Outta Compton,” director F. Gary Gray took the reigns of the enthusiastically ludicrous “Fast and the Furious” franchise.

We’re eight films into a series that built its foundation on street racing and has since become the meathead equivalent of a globe-trotting 007 adventure.

There’s no enticing incentive for a filmmaker of his caliber to give an action series this ridiculous a second thought, but you know what, sometimes we need to unleash our inner child, submarines, remote-controlled zombie cars and all. What a time to be alive.

“The Fate of the Furious” wastes no time defying the laws of physics via a Cuban street race in which Dom successfully drives a run-down vehicle that becomes engulfed in flames after using a little too much nitrous oxide. This movie is like a game in how it frequently toys with audience expectations.

With any “Fast and the Furious” movie, you’re well aware that you’re in for cartoon cavalcade of cinematic excess, but just when you’ve think you’ve seen it all, Charlize Theron, the series’ most interesting and devious antagonist to date, acquires control of thousands of zombie cars to cause mass hysteria all over New York City at her disposal. Hatching her cunning plan aboard a private plane of her own, Theron truly puts the car in carnage. No, I don’t apologize for that pun.

At this point, I expect nothing less than a big budget soap opera injected with a tank full of Nos. Imagine the vehicular anarchy of “Mad Max: Fury Road,” minus the masterful aesthetics of visual storytelling.

You buy into the insanity because of the array of characters you’ve come to form an attachment to for seven films now.

The bickering between Ludacris and Tyrese Gibson, Vin Diesel spouting about the importance of family, Kurt Russell taking hold of every situation; these folks are the sole reason why this works and something as low brow as “Transformers” falters. If they’re having a good time, then I’m having a good time.

From its over-the-top stunt work to character invincibility, this series has mutated into a superhero property.

Nowhere is this more evident than a gleefully overwhelming prison break sequence in which Dwayne Johnson continues to take names and break bones, all while the guards shoot high-velocity rubber bullets that bounce off his chest as if he were the Man of Steel himself.

In this, “The Fate of the Furious” reaches new heights in upping the ante well beyond its predecessors and I couldn’t help but sit there with a big goofy grin on my face throughout.

Scratch that, I take it back. I emitted a constant flow of tears more than anything.

No comedy in the past five years has made me convulse with persistent laughter to this degree.

There’s something truly magical about a film where Dwayne Johnson and Jason Statham show such seething hatred toward one another to the point where I could make the viable argument that they’re the definitive power couple of 2017.

Doing what I do, I run through the gamut of one genre after the other every single week.

Every once in awhile, it’s refreshing to have a palette cleanser where I can sit back and watch a thoughtful demonstration of cinematic mayhem unfold before my eyes.

Sure, there’s a plethora of plot incoherencies, bounding leaps in logic and enough corny one-liners to tire Arnold Schwarzenegger, but if you’re in the mood for a gut-busting comedy that rarely lets up, then gladly give yourself up to “The Fate of the Furious” and watch what happens.

Rating: Guilty Pleasure

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com

Failing to recapture the quiet charm of its 1979 predecessor, “Going in Style” banks on its three leads to carry the thinly-stretched material along a narrative pathway whose foundation is built on generic gags and the occasional chuckle.

Lifelong buddies Joe [Michael Caine], Willie [Morgan Freeman] and Joe [Alan Arkin] find themselves in quite a predicament upon the sudden revelation that their pensions have been frozen due to sheer incompetence on the company’s part. Seeking retribution for this injustice, the geriatric trio prep to knock off the same bank that wronged them, putting everything they hold dearly on the line.

Courtney Bethel / Equinox Staff

A while back, I had discovered that the upcoming “Going in Style” was a remake of an obscure 1979 film of the same name, starring George Burns, Art Carney and Lee Strasberg. Considering the lineup, I had anticipated a wacky comedy about three old men who abruptly decide to rob a bank. Instead, I was treated to a thoughtful and subversive insight into the banal lifestyle of the forgotten elderly of the period.

The three men have no real justification to perform a stick up other than to experience breaking free for a fleeting moment of catharsis, ensuring a few deserved laughs amid the internal drama.

Despite its seemingly outlandish premise, the original “Going in Style” never intended to be a comedy, but rather a timid character piece that patiently explores the after effects through an often unseen senior perspective. With the remake, for better or worse, you get what you pay for.

“Going in Style” hobbles along partly due to the recognizable chemistry between Caine, Freeman and Arkin.

Each are endowed with the skeleton of a passable character arc, but at the end of the day, they rarely resemble anything more than embodiments of their acting personas; there’s no clear difference between the two.

You enjoy their company in the moment, but in the long run, you’d be dumbfounded in trying to remember anything about them afterwards.

While George Burns and his friends stuck up a bank for a lark, the plight of Caine and his crew is significantly more relatable, shining a light on the almost blind carelessness towards the elderly in the millennial age. However, relatable doesn’t equate with superior. In the opening scene, Caine speaks privately with a (frustratingly obnoxious) bank manager whose voice screams, “I’m a movie antagonist,” an issue that leads to a bigger problem.

The greatest misstep of “Going in Style” lies in its comedic timing, a task that shouldn’t be all that difficult considering the natural charm that oozes from the three leads. It’s not that they don’t try, it’s that their situational antics add up to nothing more than the occasional hearty chuckle.

The lovely Ann-Margaret and expressive Christopher Lloyd, in their bit roles, are the ones who steal the show whenever they’re onscreen.

Otherwise, “Going in Style” is a film that exists while you’re in the theater, but once you leave, nothing is to be gained or remembered. While the original took a huge risk in subverting audience expectations, “Going in Style” delivers exactly what you’d expect of it: a moderately indistinguishable heist comedy starring three likeable veteran actors.

Director Zach Braff, most known for his indie hit “Garden State,” gives in to following the studio model, playing the premise extremely safe and consequence-free. In choosing to follow familiar conventions, “Going in Style” assimilates with every tired studio comedy whose window of opportunity rarely lasts longer than a weekend or two.

Rating: C

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscquinoxcom

While nowhere near as captivating as the anime of a thousand influences, “Ghost in the Shell” contains enough striking visuals and fluent action sequences to warrant a moderate recommendation even though it can’t escape the inevitable stench of controversy.

Based on the highly influential manga, in the near future, the line between humanity and technology seems to blur more and more each passing day.

Among the vast progressional leaps in technological augmentation, Major [Scarlett Johansson] becomes the first of her kind, a cyber-enhanced human who still regains her initial consciousness, often referred to as a ghost.

Courtney Bethel / Equinox Staff

Alongside her partner, Batou [Pilou Asbæk], Major applies her newfound abilities to track down dangerous criminals for Section 9, an anti-terrorism bureau headed by the calculating Chief Aramaki [Takeshi Kitano].

As she finds herself entangled within the investigation of a cyber criminal, Major uncovers a devastating truth about her past, a secret that threatens to shift her entire outlook on life itself.

“Ghost in the Shell” has been acquiring quite the headlines, and not for the best.

With accusations of whitewashing and racial feature enhancements, the live-action adaptation of Mamoru Oshii’s animated feature has not had the greatest publicity campaign.

With greater demands for racially diverse casting on the rise, it should have come as no surprise to Paramount that the backlash would be fierce and unforgiving in casting a white actress as a predominantly Japanese character.

The criticism had rose to such an extreme that my curiosity had piqued tenfold.

How could such a doomed production dig itself out of the mess it created for itself? “Ghost in the Shell” is heavily flawed, but I have to admit that as a clearly westernized adaptation of a Japanese property, I found enjoyment within Rupert Sanders’ dazzling effects show.

Before reaching the matter of Scarlett Johansson, I have to praise Sanders’ visual aesthetic alone, a “Blade Runner”-esque cyberpunk future in which skyscraper-level holograms canvas a large portion of the city.

In ditching the bleak color correction of modern Blockbusters, the dynamic colors leap off the screen, allowing the vibrancy of the extravagant city to stand out.

While “Ghost in the Shell’s” immaculate production design clearly resembles the anime, Sanders rarely finds himself beholden to the source material; rather, he faithfully pays homage to Oshii’s vision a la the iconic shelling sequence that precedes the film.

Those familiar with the anime will recognize familiar beats that permeate the narrative, but this adaptation gearshifts the Major’s journey in a completely different direction than many will be expecting.

Whether offended or indifferent to the adjustment of the Major’s ethnicity, I believe it’s best to judge Johansson’s performance as is.

She bears resemblance to the standard demeanor of her animated counterpart, often speaking in a procedural manner without much emotion.

However, the key difference between the two performances lies within her journey.

In the anime, the Major consistently questions her humanity, often pushing herself well beyond her shell’s limitations.

Johansson’s Major is not too far off, but with the glaring omission of an inner identity crisis, she’s more or less the typical Western action hero out for revenge for past injustices.

There’s a beautiful moment where the Major walks the streets in search of another human to touch, to stroke the human skin she so misses; it’s a quiet, intimate moment that rewards the audience with a brief glimpse into her psyche.

Unfortunately, occasions such as these are few and far between. For a story that claims to explore the essence of humanity in a digital age, Johansson rarely evolves beyond most action protagonist archetypes.

“Ghost in the Shell” often flows best when focused on either Batou or Chief Aramaki.

Batou is the typical movie partner who, even in his most dire moments, can’t help but make a wisecrack on behalf of the Major; he’s an overall delightful figure.

Meanwhile, Aramaki is on the opposite side of the spectrum, hard-set on getting the job done correctly and without error, often going to extreme lengths, a rare adjustment that improves upon the anime.

The greatest missed opportunity in “Ghost in the Shell” resides in how easily they could have flipped the controversy on its head. Before the Major inhabits her new form, the character is of Japanese descent.

The transferring of a Japanese consciousness into the body of a white woman is ripe for deconstructing the very notion of whitewashing.

However, such an idea doesn’t stretch beyond a quickly forgotten off-the-cuff remark.

The best way to view Sanders’ “Ghost in the Shell” is with very low expectations. As a stylistic action film, it has enough visual flair to entertain those looking for simple entertainment.

I would say that I’m disappointed in being unable to experience Scarlett Johansson as an entity who assumes the form of an alternate body and questions the state of her humanity, but then I remembered I have Jonathan Glazer’s masterful “Under the Skin.” No harm, no foul.

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscquinoxcom

“Power Rangers” fits the bill of nonsensical popcorn entertainment, complete with appealing heroes and an outlandish villain whose exaggerated performance warrants the ticket price in itself.

Not much occurs in the small town of Angel Grove, that is, until five teenagers [Naomi Scott, Dacre Montgomery, RJ Cyler, Becky G. and Ludi Lin] stumble upon an alien spacecraft that endows them with exceptional abilities. Zordon [Bryan Cranston], a massive talking head, informs the group that the malicious Rita Repulsa [Elizabeth Banks] has been abruptly awakened from her slumber with the intent of conquering the planet. In order to defeat Rita and her sentient superweapon, Goldar, the “teenagers with attitude” must learn how to work as a team and cement their destiny as the Power Rangers.

“Mighty Morphin Power Rangers” is best viewed as a mystifying time capsule of the 90s in which, week after week, five everyday teenagers would dress in multi-colored costumes and fight an absurd monster design of the week via repurposed footage from their Japanese precursor, “Super Sentai.” I never latched on to the property as most children did, even though I hovered around the right age upon its premiere. I have no personal ties to the series, but for reasons that I’ll do my best to explain, I quite enjoyed the rampant absurdity of “Saban’s Power Rangers.”

Samantha Moore / Art Director

Children have been gifted with a plethora of on-screen superheroes that they can choose from. “Power Rangers” is the rare scenario (minus a friendly neighborhood web slinger) in which adolescents can relate to their colorful heroes.

Jason (The Red Ranger) is the town pride gone wrong, a kind-hearted jock who fell from grace after pulling an irresponsible prank. Billy (The Blue Ranger) is a technically-minded genius who happens to be on the spectrum. Kimberly (The Pink Ranger) is the recently alienated popular girl who finds guilt within committing a careless mistake. Zack (The Black Ranger) can be a reckless individual, but at the end of the day, he’ll put others before himself, especially when it comes to caring for his sick mother. Trini (The Yellow Ranger) tends to keep to herself, weary of facing judgement for her lifestyle choices.

It could have been easy for director Dean Israelite to simply label the five leads as discernable stereotypes but, in a welcome development from the television show, he puts the focus on a wide variety of representation. “Power Rangers” marks the progressive debut of two superheroes from the vastly underrepresented autistic and LGBT communities, neither of which come off as a gimmick to garner insincere sympathy. By shifting the effects bonanza towards the third act, the teens are granted plenty of opportunities to understand one another, occasionally taking a moment or two to touch on timely issues, train with Alpha 5 [Voiced by Bill Hader], a hyperactive android, and come to understand one another.

“Power Rangers” is the equivalent of “The Avengers” had they first met through Saturday detention via “The Breakfast Club.” A greater emphasis is placed on building character rather solely focusing on the sugar-coated monster battles that gave the show its identity. In switching up the formula, “Power Rangers” proves to be one of very few franchises willing to adapt from its source material. But let’s be honest, what would this property be without a general aura of preposterousness?

Over the past decade or so, extravagant movie villains seem to have dissipated in favor of underwhelming baddies, that is, except for one: Elizabeth Banks as Rita Repulsa. “Power Rangers” is very much a character driven origin story, but I’ll be damned if Banks doesn’t steal the show from every one of the Rangers. I’m genuinely shocked at how much of the set is left standing after Banks seems to have chewed through all of the scenery with a deranged smile and a kick in her step. She’s the perfect starter for the Rangers, a maniacal antagonist who revels in every horrible (and shockingly violent) act she commits; Banks’ performance is clearly from another dimension, but her overblown bravado gives “Power Rangers” a shot of adrenaline.

“Power Rangers” reserves most of its robo mayhem towards the tail end of the film, a refreshing decision that may alienate well-versed aficionados from casual admirers. While infrequently subverting prevalent action movie cliches, the climax is what one would naturally expect. At times, the camera has a difficult time staying still which can make for a somewhat discombobulated experience when trying to keep up with where everyone is.

While Banks entertains through her wacky antics, the biggest laugh-out-loud moments came from an unapologetically contrived ad campaign for Krispy Kreme. Product placement in your average tentpole blockbuster is nothing new, but I can never recall one that blatantly weaved itself into the story as  integral to the plot…until today. With my friend in tow, I keeled over in hysterics, nearly on the verge of tears, as the Rangers would utter such dialogue as: “Rita hasn’t reached the Krispy Kreme yet.” Only during the climax of a “Power Rangers” movie will one hear more Krispy Kreme references than the names of the Rangers themselves. Oh, how I wish I was making this up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, all this talk of “Power Rangers” has created an insatiable hunger for the rich, fluffy texture of a Krispy Kreme-glazed doughnut.

Rating: B-

Matt Bilodeau can be cotacted at mbilodeau@kscquinox.com

If you were inquisitive as to what the Betsy DeVos education system would resemble, look no further than the wildly obnoxious “Fist Fight,” or you could just smash a brick upside your head; that almost sounds like a healthier practice.

On the last day before summer vacation, high school teacher Andy Campbell [Charlie Day] perseveres in order to stay focused amid countless immature senior pranks.

The rest of the teachers endure the chaotic madness with apathy, that is, except for one: Strickland [Ice Cube].

Feared by students and teachers alike, nobody would dare cross him. But when Campbell reluctantly gets Strickland fired, he’s challenged to a fist fight after school, a fight that spreads like wildfire across several social media sites.

Weary of Strickland obliterating every bone in his body, Campbell spends the remainder of the school day forging wild solutions to put an end to fight before he ultimately makes friends with the pavement.

Samantha Moore / Art Director

How does one thoroughly articulate the hazardous alternate reality otherwise known as “Fist Fight?”

It clearly attempts to pay homage to the 80s screwball comedy (specifically “Three O’Clock High”), in which characters pull off ridiculous (sometimes destructive) feats and yet, are exempt from any and all consequences for their actions. Oh, how times have changed.

“Fist Fight” encompasses a world in which one could commit a grisly murder and receive a medal of commendation for doing so.

Almost instantly, the school environment comes across as disingenuous; the sets consistently include a manufactured aura at all times, as with most artless studio comedies.

A large slice of studio yuck-fests primarily exist to make a quick buck for everyone involved, throwing caution to the wind whether or not people will continue to cherish it three weeks after it’s initial release.

What? Ice Cube and Charlie Day have a free afternoon to blemish their résumé? Get ‘em to the studio lot on the double!

We’ve already established that reality is vacant from this movie, but the extreme lengths in which our two leads go to, guarantees zero support on either side of the fight.

Strickland is a closet psychopath who, when pushed to his absolute breaking point, slowly walks out of a classroom and comes rushing in with an axe, swinging the sharpened blade numerous times against a student’s desk. Had the student stayed perfectly still in his seat, I’m thoroughly convinced that Cube would have chopped the rogue texter to bits.

Of course, in this universe, he simply gets fired; there are no arrests and no charges, just a simple goodbye.

And yet, he has the audacity to preach about what’s wrong with the current political climate among school administrations.

By succumbing to blackmail and stooping to Strickland’s level, Campbell is no better, but there’s a key difference between the two; these quirks are meant to embody a progressive character arc.

“Fist Fight” is chock full of such toxic messages throughout, especially regarding a school guidance counselor who regularly proclaims her need to have sex with the students. A few gems for your reading pleasure:

“The news always leaves out the good part when the teacher seduces the student.”

“I want that teenage d—.”

“I want that teen-is.” (fill in the blanks for yourself) etc.

At one point, I surprisingly lost track of how many instances in which Jillian Bell would make reference to teenage molestation with a hearty smile. Hearing any sort of laughter in these moments made me sick to my stomach.

Not surprisingly, when it finally gets to the fist fight, it’s fairly entertaining, that is, for five minutes.

An occasional snicker doesn’t excuse this lame excuse of a film (which should have been nothing more than a passable “SNL” fake trailer) for stretching out its utterly bleak worldview for ninety minutes.

Overall, “Fist Fight” is a pile of ugly, mean-spirited nonsense that grossly misunderstands the basics of absurdism, uttering raunchy dialogue for the sake of getting a reaction.

Rating: D-

Matt Bilodeau can be cotacted at mbilodeau@kscquinox.com

Not only does “La La Land” sing a delightful love song to classic Hollywood through alluring visuals, but it sets a new bar for the modern musical.

Welcome to Los Angeles, where aspiring actresses like Mia [Emma Stone] and persevering musicians like Sebastian [Ryan Gosling] throw themselves at the mercy of the “City of Angels” in hopes that one day, they’ll thrive among the industry’s finest. Through their passions, the two cross paths and become smitten with one another; they admire the ambition each has for their respective career path.

For a while, the sun shines bright on their relationship, that is, until both are saddled with an impossible task – accept true love or the warm embrace of Hollywood.

Musicals take advantage of our need to sing. Literally or metaphorically, we all sing; it’s all a matter of how we express it.

A great song can bring a tear to your eye or compel you to get up and dance the night away.

Courtney Bethel / Equinox Staff

I believe that words can have an enormous impact on us because, for the most part, they come from a place of honesty.

This is the singer’s moment to shine and tell their story, however desolate or hopeful the lyrics may be.

Utilizing the structure of a conventional Hollywood musical, Damien Chazelle passionately sings about the relevance to aspire to new heights.

In this review, I intend to sing my own tender love tune about Chazelle’s masterful beauty that is “La La Land.”

The previews finish, the lights dimmer, the “Summit” logo appears and then, I see it: “PRESENTED IN CINEMASCOPE!”

This little easter egg put me in the right state of mind. I knew that from this moment on, something magical was going to unfold before my eyes and sure enough, it did, transitioning almost instantly into an extravagant musical number,“Another Day of Sun,” taking place along a packed Los Angeles highway.

Beneath the majestic lighting and dance choreography of a bygone era, Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling radiate as ‘the’ screen couple of the year.

Chazelle’s swift direction allows their captivating chemistry to blossom through a wide variety of song and dance numbers.

One sequence in particular unfolds with Stone and Gosling emulating the same spirit of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers (with a little bit of Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds thrown in for good measure).

The beauty of the central performances lie within the internal struggle both of them face as impassioned artists in the modern world.

We empathize with Mia’s plight to put her tremendous acting abilities to use in front of a camera.

Sebastian, on the other hand, strives to put his own stamp on jazz, to make a name for himself by way of playing a mean piano (“City of Stars”).

In telling their story, Chazelle elegantly rides the line between Hollywood fantasy and hard-hitting reality, never letting one fully dominate the other.

“La La Land” is a cinephile’s playground to say the least. Upon the introduction to Mia’s apartment, her devotion to cinema is more than noticeable.

The walls are lined with one classic film poster after the other including, but not limited to, “The Dove” (1927), “The Black Cat” (1941),”Saboteur” (1942), etc.

To put the cherry on the sundae, one side of her bedroom wall is decorated from top to bottom with an enlarged portrait of the lovely Ingrid Bergman.

For any film hound, “La La Land” contains more than enough easter eggs to gratify your inner film geek, one of which heavily foreshadows the incredibly moving finale.

While the references made me grin from ear to ear, the true testament to “La La Land’s” omnipotence was its persistence to grab ahold of me and never let go, all the way up until the final frame.

Much like Mia and Sebastian, I’ve reached the destination in my lifetime where I’m being forced to make decisions that will forever change who I am as a person.

The message of following your dream, despite the obstacles thrown your way, is a tale as old as time; we’ve heard it all before.

What elevates “La La Land” to an entirely different level is the little asterisk that accompanies the theme of the film.

“La La Land” is less about following your dreams, but rather, the acceptance of failure.

Failure is an essential part of life; it’s all about how we choose to look at it. Do we accept it and move on, or do we allow it to keep our passions hostage?

Failure molds us in more ways than we imagine. Some take it as a sign that they should quit and move on. “La La Land” makes the argument that we should embrace failure, but be cautious in letting it consume everything in our path.

Failure gives us the amazing opportunity to pick ourselves back up and learn from our mistakes; only then, can we truly succeed and become one with “La La Land.” And if not, hey, at least we can say we tried.

Rating: A

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com

“Nerve” 

“Nerve” delivers a sharply-directed cyber-teen thriller, mixing clever social commentary with unique thrills. Competing with a slew of severely underwhelming summer blockbusters, “Nerve” was unfortunately buried after its opening weekend. Through the skeleton of a hyperactive thriller, “Nerve” attempts to break down the intricacies of online culture throughout the millennial generation. Those looking for a smart, gripping adrenaline rush are sure to discover one of 2016’s more pleasant surprises.

“Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates”

Providing two playful pairings for the price of one, “Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates” produces non-stop laughs throughout for better or worse. Maybe it was due to lowered expectations, but “Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates” ended up being the stupid screwball comedy that I desperately needed. Throughout the film were so many moments in which I tried to hold my laughter back, but alas, I was weak, as an incredibly stupid sight gag managed to break me. After a while, I just let anything happen; I was sold.

“The Neon Demon”

Samantha Moore / Art Director

As a damning exploration of vapid industry standards, “The Neon Demon” is yet another visual splendor from the radical mind of Nicolas Winding Refn that dares to be seen on the biggest (and brightest) screen possible. Aside from his visually-arresting aesthetics, Refn’s second greatest accomplishment he excels at is dividing his audience. Some viewed “Neon Demon” as shallow and pretentious, a beautiful waste of time, but I, for one, was consistently awe-struck by its unconventional structure, simultaneously lambasting and examining the perception of exploitation.

“Pete’s Dragon”

Delightful and innocent, “Pete’s Dragon” offers a unique glamour to its simplicity through relatable characters and an underlying subtext about coping with grief. The re-imagining triumphs over its predecessor rendering the original, a mere footnote in the studio’s illustrious history. What truly sets it apart from the group of overwhelming or underwhelming summer blockbusters is its obedience to subtlety. Despite its modern setting, the absence of cell phones and other technological devices cements its timeless values.

“The Beatles: Eight Days a Week”

“The Beatles: Eight Days A Week” is a simple, yet enlightening (and hilarious) documentary with enough uplifting, toe-tapping tunes to satisfy even the most hardened soul on the planet. Now come on, who doesn’t like (or at least respect) the outstanding impact The Beatles had on the culture of pop music? Whether a casual listener or full-blown aficionado, “Eight Days a Week” has everything you could ask for in a music documentary.

“Kubo and the Two Strings”

Blending absorbing voice performances with alluring stop-motion animation, “Kubo and the Two Strings” is a wildly imaginative visual marvel for young and old alike. Strip away the jaw-dropping animation (as hard as that is), “Kubo and the Two Strings” is still one of the year’s very finest, a stop-motion triumph that exuberates the fleeting playfulness of Hayao Miyazaki and the reserved atmosphere of Akira Kurosawa. While paying homage to such esteemed filmmakers, “Kubo” offers quite a unique adventure.

“Sing Street”

Samantha Moore / Art Director

John Carney’s latest musical treasure “Sing Street” skillfully balances memorable characters with catchy tunes that embody the heart and soul of the 1980s. “Sing Street” was greeted with a limited theatrical release this past summer to critical acclaim and low box office returns. For a film this charming to only receive $13 million overall is devastating. To be completely honest, I finally got around this film a few weeks ago (thanks to Netflix) because no immediate theater in my area screened it. You know where it is now, so go, see it for yourselves, and make “Drive It Like You Stole It” the hit that it deserves to be!

“Tickled”

From start to finish, David Farrier’s “Tickled” is a true-to-life horror film in which the looming threat is everywhere and often unforeseen. Evil exists in many forms, and Jane O’Brien Media is one of the strangest it has taken. To explain who they are would do a great disservice to “Tickled,” the single most unnerving documentary of the year. As journalist David Farrier crawls down the rabbit hole, he comes across some truly despicable information that will amuse, shock and disturb you.

“Certain Women” 

Kelly Reichardt’s feminist drama, “Certain Women,” is a warm and empathetic still-portrait of the rugged American Northwest. Reichardt triumphs in depicting slice of life stories because of her unique visions as a small-town filmmaker. “Certain Women” is not so much a film that needs to be understood, but a film that needs to be experienced. In life, things move way too fast. Here, Reichardt recognizes that we should take a moment to ourselves and just take a breath. By all accounts, this should have been a sluggish crawl to the finish line, but it instead turned out to be a quietly fascinating celebration of the mundane that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about once I left the theater.

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com

With masterful cinematography and hypnotic performances, Martin Scorsese’s “Silence” is a beautiful, yet soul-draining exploration of faith and its tremendous impact on the human spirit.

1670 – In “Silence,” Sebastião Rodrigues [Andrew Garfield] and Francisco Garupe [Adam Driver] endure a rigorous test of faith in their mission to locate and rescue their mentor and fellow missionary, Father Ferreira [Liam Neeson]. Simultaneously searching for Ferreria and preaching Catholicism in 17th Century Japan, nothing could prepare them for the depravity that will eventually befall them.

Exploring religion is, has been and always will be a touchy subject. In order to question or argue one’s beliefs, one must tread lightly. As we’ve seen, some production studios (Pureflix Entertainment) have adopted the method of indoctrination at the expense of any group that happens to believe in an alternate deity (or none at all). In that case, we should be honored and privileged to witness one of our greatest cinematic treasures show us how it’s done.

Samantha Moore / Art Director

“Silence” opens with pitch black, an ambient white noise grows louder and louder, immersing the viewer into a state of unease until it abruptly cuts out. In this moment, I felt the true weight of silence.

Martin Scorsese is no stranger to theology. He considers himself a practicing Catholic, an admission that adds great context to his near-masterpiece. From youth, you’re told quite a many things about what God expects from his children; follow his divine word and you’ll live a life of peace and tranquility. But what about those times when it seems like nobody is listening? If no one is there, then what or who am I speaking to? Scorsese examines such a fear that, as a former Catholic, I’m quite familiar with.

“Silence” is about the extreme lengths of which one’s inner psyche would go to during a crisis of faith. Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver give exquisite, haunting performances as two messengers of the faith who enter Japan with good intentions, only to be gradually twisted into fragile beings. To avert persecution, they must rely on the goodwill of their followers; both groups live on the constant edge of a rope that’s never fully secure.

Clearly influenced from the works of Akira Kurosawa, Scorsese envisions Japan not as a setting, but a character, an often unforgiving character that soaks up every hard-hitting moment. The protagonists are engulfed by their harsh surroundings. Much like a tidal wave, the brutality is unrelenting, including a barbarous form of crucifixion in which water is exploited as a pseudo-torture device.

As Garfield witnesses such depravity from a distance, he suffers with them, all while the chilling Inoue [Issei Ogata] mocks with a simple grin; nothing gives him greater pleasure. In his presence, characters are often persecuted by their isolation within the frame. Such instances give Garfield, Neeson and Driver an intimate moment to reflect on their purpose, their faith, and their entire being. When faced with an insurmountable decision, they force themselves to commit one of the most difficult deeds any religious person could possibly think of: question.

Scorsese understands that the greatest of conflicts come from within; it molds who we are. He offers his own perspective, but doesn’t make any rash judgements. Faith has meaning when the believer is willing to listen and take certain words and images to heart. “Silence” never asks you to believe or disbelief, it simply asks you to observe and take note of their silence.

Rating: A-

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com

Director Park Chan-wook firmly validates his ingenious craft with “The Handmaiden,” a wildly unpredictable erotic mystery-thriller that illustrates the very best of cinema’s remarkable offerings.

Summary

1930s – Japanese-occupied Korea – A man under the guise of “Count Fujiwara” [Ha Jung-woo] recruits Sook-Hee [Kim Tae-ri], an orphaned pickpocket, to assist him in his devious plot to marry the upscale Lady Hideko [Kim Min-hee] and swindle her out of her inheritance. As the new Handmaiden, Sook-hee comes to familiarize herself with Lady Hideko in more ways than she had anticipated, eventually feeling remorse for her involvement.

Commentary on Director

In regard to Park Chan-wook’s filmography, “Oldboy” is my only frame of reference thus far. If it highlighted one element of Park’s style, it’s this — he’s a master storyteller. The personalities that he portrays on-screen are unconventionally fascinating, as they exist to ultimately challenge our perception of humanity. His latest feature, “The Handmaiden,” is a brilliant example of the erotic mystery-thriller, minus the exploitation.

Courtney bethel / Equinox staff

Commentary on Film

Had this narrative fallen into the hands of any other director, the amourous set pieces would be seen as nothing more than gratuitous filmmaking. Park Chan-wook is unapologetic in his depiction of calculated violence and sexuality. He gracefully embraces the rush that comes with subjects that many find uncomfortable to speak about.

Through Sook-hee and Lady Hideko, Park drastically spins the traditional love story on it’s head. Both women derive from a patriarchal society that have dictated their current fates. Sook-hee is an abandoned orphan, left behind by unwilling parental figures. Lady Hideko comes from wealth, obligated to live with her perverted uncle Kouzuki [Cho Jin-woong], a man of many hypocrisies. These women exert a vulnerability that ultimately binds them together.

Park compliments the erotic fable through visually arresting production design. Every frame, especially the luscious estate, is visually a painting; no shot is unearned. The camera lingers on miniscule moments, building seductive tension and intricate thrills amongst the Shakespearean participants. A grand orchestration emphasizes the epic grandeur of the personal tale.

Overall

From start to finish, I was spellbound by the complexities within the three-part narrative. The synopsis perfectly describes the flow of part one, offering sweeping beauty with intricate character building. Then, without warning, Park uncovers a web of deceit that drastically alters your perception of everything you just saw. I promise no spoilers, but let’s just say that after the conclusion of part one, I was in shock, unable to envision where this narrative was heading next.

Predictability is one of cinema’s greatest sins, as it doesn’t allow its audience to use their imagination. As Park pulled the rug out from under me, my eyes were transfixed on the screen; I couldn’t dare look away. It’s a film that, much like the following acts, asks you to witness the transpiring events from an alternative perspective through multiple viewings. I firmly believe that, like a ripe fruit, “The Handmaiden” will taste better and better with each passing bite.

Rating: A+

Matt Bilodeau can be contacted at mbilodeau@kscequinox.com