POKER FACE

Stars: Russell Crowe, Liam Hemsworth, RZA, Brooke Satchwell, Aden Young, Steve Bastoni, Daniel McPherson, Paul Tassone, Elsa Pataky, Jack Thompson, Matt Nable, Benedict Hardie and Molly Grace.
Writer: Russell Crowe; based upon a story and original screenplay by Stephen M. Coates.
Director: Russell Crowe

Rating: ★ ½

A national treasure, of course (whether that nation be Australia or New Zealand, who knows) but it’s been quite a while since Russell Crowe has been the central creative force behind a half-decent film. 

He has done giggly cameos in Thor: Love and Thunder, The Greatest Beer Run Ever and The Mummy, had some villainous fun chewing all the scenery in Unhinged and, was fine in a well-written support part in Boy Erased. But in real terms, his last good lead was 2016’s The Nice Guys (in which he played straight man to Ryan Gosling) and before that…probably, 2014’s Noah.

Given the career trajectory in which Crowe seems to be willingly hurtling, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Poker Face reeks like it does. With its alpha-male banter and millionaire’s playground vibe, his second film as a director (remember The Water Diviner?) is a genre hodgepodge - sometimes a Usual Suspects-type narrative puzzle, sometimes a fist-shake ode to mateship, all cut-and-pasted together with a slick shallowness that aspires to be at least Michael Bay, at best Ridley Scott (from whom Crowe had no less than five films on which to be mentored, and clearly wasn’t).

The film starts with a bush-set ‘70’s-era prologue in which five tight lads outwit a local bully in an impromptu poker showdown. Jumpcut to the present, by way of a self-indulgent sequence at a new-agey ‘wellness retreat’ overseen by an Obi-wan-esque Jack Thompson; wealthy tech magnate Jake (Crowe) has gathered those same boyhood friends for some high-stakes Texas Hold ‘em. Each is offered an enticement - keep the expensive designer wheels they arrived in, or play cards with $5 million house credit. Each has some backstory (though why Liam Hemsworth is hanging out with these much older men is never addressed), but…well, there’s your movie, right?

Sadly, no. Instead, we get subplot after subplot, each so diverting that Poker Face is soon careening off course -  a cancer diagnosis, unwanted pop-ins by family members, long passages of sensitive-male soul-searching (brought on by a ‘truth serum poison’, ffs) and an attempted art heist. So flawed is the structure that it may, in fact, be a homage to ‘80s-era straight-to-video dreck, so perfectly does it capture that sub-genre’s faux-macho posturing, bewilderingly silly plotting and retrograde use of women in support parts (Elsa Pataky’s chest gets a close-up before her face, so you’ve got that to look forward to, ladies). 

Crowe can’t claim disparate creative visions were at fault here. In addition to his derivative, uninspired direction, he reworked Stephen M. Coates’ script, affording the writer a ‘story’ and ‘original screenplay’ credit, but claiming his own ‘Screenplay by…’ and, in the icing on the vanity project cake, contributed five musical compositions. 

Local streamer Stan clearly backed Poker Face as a potentially prestigious piece of premium local content, the likes of which they’ve had some success with previously (I am Woman; Sunburnt Christmas; Relic; Gold; Nitram). But entrusting the project to a fading creative force like Crowe has left them holding the film equivalent of a 2-7 offsuit.

LISEY'S STORY

Stars: Julianne Moore, Clive Owen, Joan Allen, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Dane DeHaan, Ron Cephas Jones and Sung Kang.
Writer: Stephen King, based on his novel.
Director: Pablo Larraín

Eight episode limited series; screening on AppleTV+.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

From source material that Stephen King cites as his most personal novel comes a work that feels like an arthouse, post-horror spin on the tropes and themes favoured by the author. It’s the ‘arthouse’ and ‘post-horror’ elements that explain the presence of star Julianne Moore and Chilean director Pablo Larraín, both of whom wield executive producer might (with producer J.J. Abrams also weighing on) on the AppleTV+ limited series, Lisey’s Story. 

Allowing the most successful author of all time to script every installment of the 8-episode arc may have proven one creative visionary to many. Everyone involved seems determined to draw something deep and meaningful out of the King bestseller and craft a work of precise beauty, layered plotting and dark psychology. And while moments of Lisey’s Story convey all those things, it’s never wholly convincing or, more’s the concern, compellingly scary. Compared to recent adaptations of the author’s work, it represents a marked improvement over CBS’ ill-conceived reworking of The Stand, but falls well shy of last year’s HBO stunner, The Outsider. 

King’s novel was published in 2006, written while recuperating; one account says it was pneumonia, the other complications from his being struck by a van in 1999. The writer’s wife Tabitha took advantage of her husband’s downtime and cleaned up his office, packing many of his half-works and scribblings into boxes. King imagined this is how his workspace would look after he died, an image from which his most heartfelt narrative grew.

The utterly committed Moore plays Lisey, the widow of publishing phenom Scott Landon (Clive Owen), who was struck down by an assassin’s bullet two years prior. While continuing to struggle with her grief, she also wrangles her relationship with her sisters, the short-fused Darla (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and the often catatonic Amanda (Joan Allen). At the same time, her late husband’s scumbag colleague, Professor Dashmiel (Ron Cephas Jones) wants Scott’s unpublished writings and acquires the services of Landon’s most unstable superfan, Jim ‘Dandy’ Dooley (a legitimately unhinged Dane DeHaan; pictured below) to convince Lisey to give them up.

Beyond these real world concerns are the realms of imagination and fantasy that symbolise Scott’s memories. The murky psyche of the late author is represented by a creepy aquatic amphitheatre known as ‘Boo’ya Moon’, populated by a shrieking Lovecraftian giant formed from howling humans and home to Amanda in her worst moments. Lisey begins to understand her husband’s sad past, brought to life in horrific flashbacks to Scott’s boyhood abuse at the hands of his father (an unrecognizable Michael Pitt). With that insight comes the ability to travel between worlds, giving Lisey control of a new destiny, albeit one that walks a dark path filled with physical terrors and raw memories.

Pablo Larrain draws superbly etched character work out of his female leads (Jackie, 2016; Ema, 2019; the soon-to-be-released Spencer) and his work with Moore excels at exploring the sadness and longing in Lisey. But King’s fantasy/horror elements prove altogether more challenging for the director; he stumbles in his conjuring of menace and foreboding, often too enthralled by image over substance (the usually reliable DOP Dharius Khondji proving another overqualified hired hand not in tune with the material).

Lisey’s Story is the end result of a lot of mismatched top-tier talents, although crucial shortcomings fall largely at the feet of writer King. Moore and especially Owen gurgle out his dialogue, which is often not dialogue at all but repetitive cues that infer meaning while actually having none (“Babyluv?”, “Babyluv…”). That it remains watchable at all, and there are moments (mostly from DeHaan as the most celebrated of King’s archetypes, the ‘crazed fan’) that are certainly watchable, Lisey’s Story is a textbook case of its parts being greater than its whole.

THE LAST LAUGH

Stars: Chevy Chase, Richard Dreyfuss, Lewis Black, Andie MacDowell, Richard Kind, George Wallace, Kate Micucci, and Chris Parnell.
Writer/Director: Greg Pritikin

A NETFLIX Original film; premiered on January 11, 2019.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The streaming service acknowledges its growing grey viewership with Greg Pritikin’s road-trip buddy comedy, The Last Laugh. The free-spirited, somewhat flimsy premise is made entirely watchable, occasionally very enjoyable, by the chemistry generated by those two pros, Chevy Chase and Richard Dreyfuss, who spice up that familiar ‘grumpy old men’ shtick with a blue (pill) streak of naughty talk.

That said, Pritikin (who knows ‘crude’, having co-written segments of the infamous Movie 43) never strays too far from the warm-hearted schmaltz and age-relevant melodrama, even when asking Chase and love-interest Andie MacDowell to trip on mushrooms. It is a remarkably odd sequence, one that employs grainy rear-projection and has the pair soaring above The Big Apple on a bike pedaled by Abraham Lincoln, but one that will play well with the drug-savvy ex-hippie/baby-boomer target audience.

Chase embraces all of his 75 years to convince as Al Hart, a legendary agent/manager who once boasted a client list featuring all the best stand-up funnymen on the circuit, circa early ‘60s. After another fall, he is convinced by his concerned granddaughter Jeannie (Kate Micucci) to explore retirement village living. It is during that first depressing round of visits to prospective establishments that Al is surprised by his oldest client, Buddy Green (Dreyfuss, a chipper 72 himself). Despite having quit the stand-up scene 50 years ago, Buddy’s re-energised friendship with Al leads to a plan to resurrect the former comedian’s career, with no less than a guest spot on Stephen Colbert’s The Late Show the ultimate goal after honing some 'fresh' material on the road.

Of course, the whole narrative is pure blue-rinse wish-fulfillment fantasy. The humour is often obvious and simple; no Viagra gag is left on the writer’s table and ‘old people giving the finger’ is called upon, of course. But delivery and timing is everything and with comedy talent like Chase (his most understated and likable in years) and Dreyfuss (going all-in on every scene, recalling his Oscar-winning turn in The Goodbye Girl) working every inch of the frame, the result is more sweet sentiment and hearty guffaws than the material often deserves.

Such was the case with the output of the late Paul Mazursky, whose films could alternately soar (Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice; An Unmarried Woman; Down and Out in Beverly Hills) and struggle (Moon Over Parador; Scenes From a Mall). The Last Laugh is dedicated to his memory; he was mentor and friend to Pritikin, who originally wrote the script for Mazursky and Mel Brooks. The young director nails more often than not the rhythmic banter of two elderly sparring partners/comrades, just as Mazursky might have.          

Netflix have shown considerable respect for the 50+ demo, with the series Grace and Frankie, starring Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda, and more recently, the Golden Globe-winning The Kominsky Method with Michael Douglas and Alan Arkin reflecting mature themes and sophisticated comedy in equal measure. While The Last Laugh is not in the same league (it never presumes to be, to Pritikin’s credit), it is a warmly enjoyable romp for those in the armchair army who have mastered the modern remote control. (Photo credit - Patti Perret/Netflix)