The one movie I have talked about most this year is “War Game.” When I wrote about this documentary for The Berkshire Edge back in June, it had just come off the festival circuit. Now that the presidential election is less than three weeks away, I recommend you reserve tickets for Saturday night’s screening of “War Game” at The Triplex.
Jesse Moss and Tony Gerber’s docu-thriller begs the question: What will government leaders do if rogue members of the military back a political coup in the face of a contested election? Suffice it to say, the film uniquely depicts a six-hour window into the highest-stakes decision-making.
Of course I wish there were no need to make this film in the first place, but such thinking reflects an ideal word, not the real one we live in. So at the risk of repeating myself, score your movie tickets here.
January 6 traumatized everyone I know. At the same time, watching this 94-minute film while its bipartisan, role-playing cast considers a larger, more dangerous January 6 helped me process what happened nearly four years ago. Thankfully, the filmmakers succeed by showing audiences how to avert a coup and save democracy at the same time.
When the long weekend includes four movies and a funeral
Reader, I saw “The Apprentice” so you don’t have to. I also saw it because a deeply deranged Donald Trump did not want me to. Can you say “fool’s gold?”
In any case, I went to a 4:30 p.m. screening of “The Apprentice” last Friday, hours before Yom Kippur began at sunset. To hear Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong) emphasize why Ethel Rosenberg needed to be executed was not only surreal, it also made me feel physically sick. Not unlike the scene where Trump (Sebastian Stan) rapes his wife Ivana (Maria Bakalova).
Stan and Strong give very fine performances as the two leads, and the film’s trolling title is apt. However, “The Apprentice” flopped at the box office because viewers really don’t care. Do you?
Know this, though: Cohn impressed upon an impressionable Trump three rules to live by. They are: 1.) attack, attack, attack; 2.) admit nothing and deny everything; and 3.) no matter what happens, you claim victory and never admit defeat. In other words, Trump plans to assault our democracy yet again during the post-election, pre-Inauguration Day period. He is a serial rapist after all.
On Saturday, I caught “Piece by Piece,” the musical Lego documentary about Pharrell Williams. I put this flick on my list last December, and it did not disappoint.
In fact, the creativity behind the whole thing felt like a shot in the arm. True, I had received both flu and COVID vaccines only hours before, but Pharrell’s biopic-me-up felt different. His genius arrived like a jolt-antidote to “The Apprentice.”
Heading into “Piece by Piece,” I knew nothing about Pharrell’s backstory. I also had no idea Virginia Beach figured so prominently in contemporary musical lore. Not only did I get a kick out of seeing animated Lego Pharrell but also Lego Jay-Z, Lego Missy Elliott, and Lego Snoop Dogg.
Beyond this, and like his hit song, Pharrell is happy. Judging by the young children dancing in the aisles at the theater, his happiness is also infectious.
Plus, the film’s online assets include a make-your-own-mini-figure generator, which is irresistible. In this important way, “Piece by Piece” borrows from “Barbie.” See for yourself—Pharrell and I sporting our best Lego looks:
On Sunday I headed up to The Bantam to check out “The Outrun,” Saoirse Ronan’s Oscar-buzzy, Orkney Islands recovery odyssey. Ronan gives a realistic performance of a young woman with alcohol-use disorder whose many sobriety attempts are painful to watch.
Admittedly, addiction stories in general are not my cup of tea. Coupled with my own island experiment, I certainly have a new appreciation for how many people struggle with geographic, rural isolation.
Ronan captures this so realistically, portraying all the ups and downs of sober living. In the end, however, I dislike roller coasters. In other words, I wanted to see all the beauty of the Orkney Islands with none of the agony.
Finally, I caught “Saturday Night” on Sunday night. I think this movie will appeal to most middle-aged people, for whom “Saturday Night Live” has been part of our lives forever.
“Saturday Night” conjures the 90-minute countdown to SNL’s late-night live-television debut in October 1975. It is pure chaos right up until the split-second decision to try something completely new instead of more Johnny Carson.
The rest is history. I loved the network censor’s efforts to smut-check all the hilarious sexual humor and George Carlin-approved profanity from SNL’s premiere. I also loved watching Jon Batiste play Billy Preston and J.K. Simmons stand in for Milton Berle.
In fact, Woman on the Verge strongly believes “Saturday Night” has all the makings of an Oscar nomination for the Academy’s new category: Best Casting. However, this statuette will be handed out starting in 2026, for films released in 2025 and thereafter.
The “Saturday Night” release date coincided perfectly with the 50th anniversary of the sketch-comedy variety show we call SNL. Still, its brilliant casting was a marvel to see; a thoroughly enjoyable homage to a long-running cultural montage. I hope you enjoy the show as much as I did:
Last week my Uncle Jimmy died at home while getting some ice cream before bedtime.
Thus, in addition to seeing four new releases, I also saw family last weekend. The older adults at my uncle’s services told me how they frequently see one another at funerals. Of course, this is the opposite of what happens in “Four Weddings and a Funeral.”
In an odd way, I was also reminded of “Waking Ned Devine,” the comedy set in a rural Irish village when a pensioner dies of shock while holding a multimillion dollar winning lottery ticket.
As I got ready for my uncle’s funeral, I saw him smiling somewhere. A two-time Trump voter, he leaned in and whispered, “It’s going to be okay; Kamala is going to be the next president.”
I smiled back.
