Apple TV+ both unnerves and arouses with its new seven-part series from a multiple Oscar winner, while a controversial drama about Donald Trump and a fictionalized rendering of the first “Saturday Night Live” broadcast headline our reviews this week.
Here’s our roundup.
“Disclaimer”: Alfonso Cuarón’s seven-part Apple TV+ series could well get mistaken as a sad omen that the Oscar champ who gave us the exemplary “Children of Men” and “Roma” and the scorching-hot “Y tu Mama Tambien” decided to take the money and run. “Disclaimer,” though, is no sell out, no tawdry thriller.
It’s a mature, very adult, highly provocative domestic drama that plumbs the consequences of judging and misjudging others and the damages incurred by being confined by our own selfish perspective. Its cast delivers in every way.
Cuarón’s adaptation of Renée Knight’s novel is both somber and sobering, yet it grabs you like a page-turner. The layered plot hinges on secrets and events from the past that resurface and upend the cushioned lives of high-profile journalist Catherine Ravenscroft (Cate Blanchett), seemingly supportive husband Robert (Sacha Baron Cohen, going against type most effectively) and troubled son Nicholas (Kodi Smit-McPhee).
The first few episodes play within the conventions of “the domestic thriller” sandbox and then shock us off our couches with a graphic and extended sex scene (the raciest one I’ve watched on a streamer of late). Is that explicitness warranted? You bet. You’ll just have to stick with it to see why.
Much of what happens is tied to the intersection of the lives of the Ravenscrofts and the scrappier Brigstockes: husband Stephen (Kevin Kline, exceptional), wife Nancy (Lesley Manville) and gregarious, European-traveling son Jonathan (Louis Partridge).
A self-published novel ignites the plot.
As we become privy to what happened during an Italian vacation via sun-kissed flashbacks, the chess-like actions of each character (a narrator recounts their unvarnished inner thoughts) begin to make more sense, including those of a younger Catherine (Leila George, in a tough role she pulls off well).
The less said, the better, but part of the experience will be watching terrific cinematography by Emmanuel Lubezki (also an executive producer and Cuarón collaborator) and Bruno Delbonnel, which addresses the emptiness of cruelty and the destructive force of out-of-control vengeance. “Disclaimer” is tremendously acted and directed and designed with painstaking detail. It’s uncomfortable to watch when its characters treat each other so poorly, but “Disclaimer” isn’t beholden to pessimism even as it warns about our own inclination to blame others when we need to look inside ourselves. Details: 3½ stars out of 4; first two episodes drop Oct. 11 with one episode each week after.
“The Apprentice”: Better known as that movie Donald Trump wants to squash like a picnic ant (his team filed a cease and desist letter and threatened to sue), director Ali Abbasi’s controversial take on the ascension of the 45th president under the Svengali-like tutelage of notoriously unethical attorney Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong), certainly doesn’t paint a rosy picture of him. But it is a fascinating, well-crafted dramatization, at least in its first hour, on the making of Trump in New York and how he perfected Cohn’s three rules (condensed here) — attack, admit nothing and deny everything, and never acknowledge defeat. The intricate ‘70s-’80s period details and actual footage of that era remind us of New York’s rough patch back then, but it’s the tour-de-force performance from Sebastian Stan as Trump that sets the house afire. (Strong’s usual brand of intensity plays off Stan’s performance well). Stan nails Trump without overdoing it, from the way he walks to his tics and mannerisms — the jutting lip, the hand gestures and the vocal inflection. His performance stabilizes “The Apprentice” during its choppier spots as it zips like a Wikipedia entry through key events. The most controversial scene shows Stan’s Trump raping first wife Ivana (Maria Bakalova). It’s a forceful but brief sequence, and is certain to outrage. (Ivana Trump alleged the rape in her divorce deposition, but later repudiated the claim). Trump’s ardent fan base will likely hate it while detractors say “See, I told you so.” Truth is, “The Apprentice” is a controversy magnet that, through Trump’s saga, comes across as an allegory about how wealthy, white and power-hungry American men rise to the top not by following their country’s rules but their own, which benefit them the most. Details: 3 stars; opens Oct. 11 in theaters.
“Saturday Night”: Have you wondered what it was like backstage 90 minutes before the first broadcast of “Saturday Night Live” on Oct. 11, 1975? If so, director/co-screenwriter Jason Reitman’s harried fictional account gives you an inkling on the time-ticking chaos of that night. But was comedian Milton Berle really a nightmare host? Did Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) and John Belushi (Matt Wood, exceptional) actually fight? I dunno. So it’s best to enjoy “Saturday Night” as a spirited impressionistic piece of what reportedly went down that anxiety-ridden night for creator Lorne Michaels (“The Fabelmans”’ Gabrielle LaBelle, priceless) and the show’s co-writer and Michaels’ wife Rosie Shuster (“Shiva Baby’s” Rachel Sennott) as well as for an unruly cast, crew and nervous NBC execs. “Saturday Night” dumps audiences right into the vortex of that madness, and the hyperactive camerawork that fast-breaks from catastrophe to catastrophe takes a bit getting used to, and can get disorienting. “Saturday Night” coalesces about a third of the way in as Michaels tries to herd a talented, misbehaving clowder of celebrity cats — Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation) and so on — during the nail-biting, sometimes fractious moments before the show. “Saturday Night” gives a glimpse into the reality of putting on a big show and celebrates how sometimes it works, as anyone in show biz knows, through a confluence of talent, luck and chutzpah. Details: 3 stars; in theaters Oct. 11.
“Piece By Piece”: Music-related documentaries tend to be paint-by-numbers affairs, a mix of traditional talking-head interviews and performance clips, sort of the very antithesis of how creative the person being profiled is all about. Director Morgan (“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”) Neville and singer/songwriter/producer Pharrell Williams flout tradition by using animated LEGOs to depict Williams’ inspiring bio about how he went from a skateboarding Virginia Beach kid in the projects to a singer/songwriter/producer of international acclaim who worked with a range of performers – from Gwen Stefani to Jay-Z. The conceit that animated LEGOs impart his story is entertaining to behold, even if the trick wears thin in its third act as Neville struggles to define why LEGOs provided the building blocks for this doc. Still, there’s no denying it’s to see LEGO versions of Snoop Dogg, Justin Timberlake, Missy Elliot and even Oprah. Williams does get candid and reveals the ups and downs in his career; I wish there were more of those insights. Neville’s film catches fire not because of the LEGO treatment, but when Williams’ greatest hits get spun: the peppy “Happy” (which led to him feeling down) and on to his iconic collaboration with Kendrick Lamer for “Alright.” Even though it does feel like a few pieces are missing “Piece By Piece” remains an enjoyable, ebullient documentary that scratches the surface. Details: 3 stars; opens Oct. 11 in theaters.
Contact Randy Myers at soitsrandy@gmail.com.
