Sunday, March 05, 2017
From the opening scene of Logan it is clear we're in unfamiliar territory. Logan (Hugh Jackman) wakes up in the back of a limousine to find a group of men trying to steal his hubcaps. The situation escalates and The Wolverine's claws come out, but if you haven't caught an X-Men film in a little while then you may be surprised by how old and worn Logan looks. The very existence of Logan the film, the latest entry in a multibillion dollar franchise, is the biggest surprise though. Director James Mangold (who also made the previous Wolverine) has made a scaled down superhero film about the seasons of life and the responsibilities that we bear to each other even when mutant powers enter the equation. Logan is something genuinely fresh in the cinema of comic-derived film, a self-contained kind of post-superhero epic that explicitly nods to older forms. The particulars are sketched in quickly: It's 2029 in a world that has largely forgotten about mutants, who we're told are no longer being born. Logan is hiding out in Mexico and caring for the ailing Professor Xavier (Patrick Stewart) and driving the limo to make money. The X-Men only survive as characters in comic books, and it's the comics that bring a special young girl named Laura (Dafne Keen, good as a child who has never seen the world) into Logan's path.
What plot there is in Logan involves the attempt to take Laura to a (possibly mythical) hideout for young mutants while fleeing from the private army of a company that wants to weaponize mutant children. But Mangold and his co-writers didn't overload the script with monologuing villains - Richard E. Grant actually underplays the evil scientist - or ethical debates. It is hard to think of another comic-derived film that is so concerned with the psychic toll that killing plays on its heroes. Logan is a violent film, and Mangold films Logan and Laura fighting their pursuers in a brutal, close-up style that's just stylized enough to not be unpleasant. Yet there isn't any triumphalism in the violence, and as Logan goes on we realize that for Logan the identity of The Wolverine is like a costume that he can't take off. This notion is made explicit in scene where the characters watch a bit of Shane, a moment that pays off in surprising ways during the final battle. Most of Logan takes place in open Southwestern and Midwestern landscapes, so when the choices of Logan and Xavier (whose powers emerge in frightening seizures) affect those around them the consequences are immediate and specific. It would be unfair to spoil the way that the film brings Logan to a reckoning, but the choice is both a visual treat and dramatically effective. We're watching a film about a man who wants to leave the battlefield but who can't find a path anywhere else.
Hugh Jackman has always been a winning presence, but he has never been quite as committed and soulful as he is here. The emotional range the role of Logan requires is brought into full relief by the script, and Jackman more than delivers. He's not just a terrific superhero - this is first-order acting. Patrick Stewart, playing a dying king, is very much in his element as well. The only thing I don't like about Logan is the possibility that in a few years there will be a new film that renders Logan non-canonical, but until then let's appreciate what we've been given.
Jordan Peele's Get Out involves racism, interracial relationships, betrayal, and shocking behavior masked by privilege, but none of that would matter if it weren't so honest. Peele uses horror tropes because the plot demands it, but this scary enough (and sometimes very funny) first feature is really concerned with the discomfort that Chris Washington (Daniel Kaluuya) feels about meeting the wealthy parents of his white girlfriend Rose (Allison Williams) at their lakeside home. Peele is interested in all of the awkwardness that Chris feels as Rose's father (Bradley Whitford) tries to ingratiate himself and her mother (Catherine Keener) offers to hypnotize him so he'll quit smoking. Then there's the party scene where rich white people ask Chris about his sexual prowess and if he's good at golf. The only non-white guest at that party is a man (Lakeith Stanfield) who seems familiar but doesn't act like himself, and it's at this point that Chris and his friend (Lil Rel Howery, providing fine comic relief) begin to put the horrible pieces together. A film this smart and closely observed heralds a successful writing/directing career for Peele, who here has a strong point to make: We're nowhere near as far along as we should be.