Film Review of the Week

Comedy

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. (PG)

Review: Thank you, God, for answering my prayers and manifesting an unabashedly heartfelt, touching and hysterical adaptation of Judy Blume’s beloved novel. Writer-director Kelly Fremon Craig preaches personal growth, self-awareness and acceptance in a beautifully realised 1970s-set coming-of-age comedy drama that is comfortingly old fashioned in terms of its character-driven storytelling but still resonates clearly to contemporary audiences. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. poses questions about religion, sexuality, peer pressure and belonging through the eyes of a wide-eyed adolescent who does not have the luxury of searching online for answers and must rely on conflicting advice from family, friends and her teacher.

Abby Ryder Fortson is luminous as the eponymous truth seeker, capturing gentle fluctuations in her character’s emotional state as an unexpected relocation exposes pain in her parents’ marriage and ushers in the purchase of a first bra. Strong female voices resonate clearly in Fremon Craig’s nostalgic picture, including the powerhouse supporting turns of Rachel McAdams as Margaret’s protective mother and Kathy Bates as a glamorous grandmother on the prowl for a gentleman companion to share her cheese board. Laughs are sprinkled generously, from Margaret and friends believing they can hasten changes to their bodies with ritualistic chants of “We must, we must, we must increase our bust!” to wise words about male anatomy.

Eleven-year-old Margaret Simon (Ryder Fortson) returns from summer camp to learn her parents Barbara (McAdams) and Herb (Benny Safdie) intend to trade New York City for New Jersey because of her father’s promotion at work. The move will force Margaret to change schools, lose her current circle of friends and loosen her tight grip on the emotional comfort blanket of her paternal grandmother (Bates). At a time of great uncertainty, Margaret voices her concerns to a higher power. “First, I’ve heard a lot of great things about you…” she whispers, pleading for divine intervention to derail her parents’ plans. “If you can’t do that, please don’t let New Jersey be too horrible.”

Her plea seems to be answered when Margaret quickly befriends new next-door neighbour Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham) and is invited to join a secret club with classmates Janie Loomis (Amari Alexis Price) and Gretchen Potter (Katherine Kupferer). Over the course of an eventful school year, Margaret nervously anticipates the arrival of puberty, makes amends for unkind words about Laura Danker (Isol Young) and nurtures a crush on local lad Moose (Aidan Wojtak-Hissong).

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. is a bittersweet and joyful ode to the halcyon days of childhood which affords richly drawn characters the time they need to bloom. A stellar ensemble cast complements Ryder Fortson’s nuanced and naturalistic portrayal, effortlessly tugging heartstrings as members of the Simon clan apply the learnings of respective life lessons. Fremon Craig’s film is a high achiever and earns top grades with ease.

Horror

Beau Is Afraid (15)

Review: Being alone. Blood. Confined spaces. Crowds. Darkness. Death. Failure. Flying. Heights. Hypodermic needles. Intimacy. Public speaking. Snakes. Spiders. Thunder and lightning. The unknown. Fears are deep-rooted in the human condition and sometimes override cool, rational thought. In his stylish features Hereditary and Midsommar, writer-director Ari Aster plundered universal fears for skin-prickling discomfort. He repeats the trick, with considerably less narrative clarity, in the hallucinogenic horror comedy Beau Is Afraid, a bamboozling and beguiling exercise in self-reflection and self-indulgence tethered to a fiercely committed lead performance from Joaquin Phoenix as the titular worrywart.

A running time close to three hours will be a justifiable fear for some audiences and Aster’s picture certainly feels bloated. However, this madcap odyssey into the mind of a damaged everyman is never dull, even when we are trapped in limbo between heightened reality and full-blown lunacy. An episodic structure and flashes of directorial verve including a prolonged stop-motion sequence, masterminded by animators Cristobal Leon and Joaquín Cocina, demand attention as coherence is ritually sacrificed before our bewildered eyes, culminating in a monstrous encounter in an attic that cannot be unseen.

Imperious single mother Mona Wassermann (Zoe Lister-Jones) is a constant companion to her teenage son Beau (Armen Nahapetian). She schools Beau to consider her love as a life raft in a sea of danger and disappointment and reminds her boy that his father died mid-coitus courtesy of a heart murmur that he inherited through the genetic lottery. It is little surprise that when Beau experiences the first pangs of romance, he strays no further than a tentative kiss.

Now middle-aged and riddled with anxiety, Beau (Phoenix) visits a kindly psychiatrist (Stephen McKinley Henderson) ahead of a trip home to see his mother (Patti Lupone), who presides over a pharmaceutical empire. Alas, Beau oversleeps and in the frantic dash to the airport, he is the victim of a bizarre crime. He telephones his mother for advice about calling the police and missing his flight – “I think you’ll do the right thing, sweetheart,” she tersely responds – and best laid plans spiral of control. Evicted from his rundown apartment on to streets filled with violence, Beau collides with respected surgeon Roger (Nathan Lane) and his wife Grace (Amy Ryan) and they provide temporary sanctuary from the psychological storm with their troubled daughter Toni (Kylie Rogers).

Beau Is Afraid is a wildly ambitious mood piece that defies categorisation or succinct explanation. Gobs are repeatedly smacked by Aster’s unwillingness to restrict himself to storytelling convention, abetted by Phoenix’s mesmerising theatrics. It is an admirable statement of intent that results in a sharply divisive work open to feverish debate or infuriated dismissal. Every strong reaction is justified. Art should always make you feel something, even if in this case, it’s dizziness and confusion.

Action

Fast X (12A)

Review: If you listen intently to the sound design of Fast X, beneath the insistent roar of engines, screeching of tyres and composer Brian Tyler’s cacophonous score you’ll be able to discern a thud-thud-splutter on repeat. That is the unmistakable sound of a turbo-charged action franchise running on exhaust fumes. The 10th screech around the block with glowering street racer Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and the gang passes itself off as Avengers: Infinity War on wheels replete with a deranged supervillain, cameos from stars in earlier instalments and a tragedy-laden ending.

Action set-pieces are spectacular, including a demolition derby through the streets of Rome, but there is a nagging familiarity to these outlandish sequences and when a pay-off relies on digital effects rather than thrilling practical stunt work, the warning lights flicker on the Fast X dashboard. More noticeably than its predecessors, director Louis Leterrier’s picture doesn’t glance into its rear-view mirror before accelerating sharply away from realism. It’s hard to muster concern for characters when the laws of physics are repeatedly ignored to keep the plot chugging towards an inevitable cliff-hanger tease for the series’ swansong in summer 2025.

Jason Momoa is a glorious addition as the vengeance-seeking son of drug lord Hernan Reyes (Joaquim de Almeida) from Fast & Furious 5. His preening, sociopathic peacock with serious daddy issues has evidently been taking notes from Joker from the DC Comics universe, careening wildly between maniacal clown and merciless terrorist as he ruthlessly targets everyone that Dom loves with the chilling promise, “Never accept death when suffering is owed!”. Fast X barely passes its MOT because Momoa is a delirious delight.

A breathless prologue soups up footage from Fast & Furious 5 featuring Paul Walker to rewrite history and establish ties between Dante Reyes (Momoa) and Dom dating back to the daring bank heist in Rio de Janeiro. Ten years later in present day Los Angeles, Dante enacts his revenge plan and targets Dom’s wife Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) and young son Brian (Leo Abelo Perry), sister Mia (Jordana Brewster), brother Jakob (John Cena) and the current crew comprising Roman (Tyrese Gibson), Tej (Ludacris), hacker Ramsey (Nathalie Emmanuel) and drift racer Han Lue (Sung Kang). Former associates including Deckard’s mother Queenie (Helen Mirren) are also potential collateral damage. Meanwhile, cyberterrorist Cipher (Charlize Theron) lurks in the shadows and Mr Nobody’s spunky daughter Tess (Brie Larson) defies orders from the agency’s new leader, Aimes (Alan Ritchson), to side with Dom in the fast-approaching war against Reyes.

Fast X is the least satisfying instalment of the post-Paul Walker era. Running time is excessive given the lack of horsepower in Dan Mazeau and Justin Lin’s script and female characters are poorly served when they aren’t weathering punches in bruising fight sequences. Diesel runs through his full repertoire of snorts and growls as the body count rises to underline Dante’s deadly threat. Ardent fans should keep seatbelts buckled until the end credits have fully rolled.