2/3 great, 1/3 blood-soaked Ten Little Indians

THE HATEFUL EIGHT (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"The Hateful Eight" represents some of the best and worst habits of Quentin Tarantino. On one hand, it has terrifically framed dialogue scenes inside a stagecoach and a Haberdashery where the characters expound on issues such as the Civil War, slavery and what it means to be black in America in the 1860's. On the other hand, the film can indulge forever in ways that would even make the late Sergio Leone (no stranger to overlong westerns - his "Once Upon a Time in the West" is exceedingly overlong but still a masterpiece) say, "how much longer are we going to be inside that Haberdashery?" It is that aspect of overlength and some grotesque violence that exceeds even my endurance test levels. Though not a complete success like Tarantino's other works, "The Hateful Eight" should hardly be dismissed either.

Tarantino's near 3-hour claustrophobic western has scraggy, scraggly hangman and bounty hunter named  John "The Hangman" Ruth  (Kurt Russell), his murderous criminal Daisy Domergue (black-eyed Jennifer Jason Leigh) whom he wants to hang at Red Rock, going to their destination in the snowy blizzard conditions of Wyoming inside a stagecoach. Along the hazardous journey, they pick up a bounty hunter named Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson) who is supposedly pen pals with Abraham Lincoln and carries around a personal letter from the 16th President (Warren is notorious for killing various Confederate soldiers during the war), and a new Sheriff of Red Rock named Mannix (Walter Goggins) who just happens to be wandering the area and is hardly the smartest Sheriff in town. Cut to Minnie's Haberdashery where they serve jelly beans, hot coffee and stewed potatoes. A newly-appointed Mexican employee (Demián Bichir) is taking over for Minnie in this one-room log cabin with one bed, while other people passing by are staying at this remote location. They include Tim Roth as a Christoph Walz-type hangman, Michael Madsen as Joe "Cow Puncher"  who is on his way to visit his mother for Christmas (!) and a former Confederate General (Bruce Dern) who is so racist that it becomes almost spooky. Good luck with Major Warren dealing with this nasty individual.

There is much to savor in "The Hateful Eight" and the tension builds on occasion, especially during a sequence where the coffee poisons almost everyone who drinks from it. There is also one sequence where Major Warren confronts the elderly Confederate General with a tale of how the Major tortured the General's son - it is done in flashback with Jackson's voice-over and is likely to make most viewers squirm and laugh nervously at the same time. That is the underlying beauty of Tarantino and why he rocks cinematically harder than any of his copycats with his pulp revenge tales - when forceful dialogue and dazzlingly powerful performances create a sustained mood of wickedness crossed with black humor in ways that can make audiences unsure of how to react. That is Tarantino's game, playing the audience like a piano. By the end of the gross-out extended climax, he is not playing the audience anymore - it is more like getting your fingers broken in agony while exploding heads, blown-off genitals and an offputting hanging grace the 70mm screen. You are left wallowing in excess gore which means the filmmaker is also left wallowing in it. The late Sam Peckinpah, no stranger in his heyday to stomach-churning, slow-motion ballets of violence, might have vomited while watching this grotesquerie. Ever since the cartoonish aesthetically over-the-top violence of his "Kill Bills," Tarantino has become the victim of what he was once criticized of being in the "Pulp Fiction" years - a director who really loves violence so much that it becomes dangerously close to being the subject of his movie. Let me be clear, the violence does not become the subject but it left a bitter taste in my mouth, almost but not too bitter.

In hindsight, the nasty, unendurable violence of the last third of the film do not take away from the primal power of "The Hateful Eight." It is Tarantino's ode to Agatha Christie's "Ten Little Indians" albeit with characters of excessively low moral repute. I will not soon forget Samuel L. Jackson's duplicitous nature or his discussions of racism in post-Civil War years (he may as well be talking about what is happening in America in the 2010 era); Jennifer Jason Leigh's savage blood-soaked smiles or her moment of grace when she plays the guitar; the shocked looks of Bruce Dern's Confederate General; Russell struggling to get a cup of coffee while handcuffed to Leigh; the entrance door to the Haberdashery that must be nailed shut each time it is opened and, of course, under the amazing lensing of cinematographer Robert Richardson ("Natural Born Killers," "Casino"), the few outdoor mountainous shots of Colorado standing in for Wyoming including an extended take of a Christ statue in crucifixion pose. There is plenty to admire about this western and I still love Tarantino as a demonically talented filmmaker who can still make smart, wickedly funny revenge tales. Yet "The Hateful Eight" is far too long in spots, far too bloody and a little too uneven. It is 2/3 a great film, and 1/3 a nauseatingly blood-soaked "Ten Little Indians."  

Movies can change a country

CHUCK NORRIS VS. COMMUNISM (2015)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Reprinted with permission by Steel Notes Magazine

Imagine living in a Communist country where TV broadcasts only on two channels, 2 hours a day, and it is all propaganda. Okay, so in the United States, we have hundreds of channels and fed a lot of propaganda from two political parties yet it is a far cry from the Romania of the past. Further imagine banned VHS movies making their way into the underground with a Romanian State TV employee serving as the translator. That is the story of “Chuck Norris vs. Communism,” a thrilling, quietly stimulating one-hour documentary that focuses on how art, good or bad, can transcend a whole country.

During the 1980’s, Irina Nistor, a film translator for Romanian State TV who reluctantly worked with the censorship committee, was hired by the mysterious Mr. Teodor Zamfir to dub illegally obtained VHS movies and sell them in the underground to families who had no access to anything except government-controlled television (Romania’s dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu  was a frequent sight on the tube). Nistor’s voice dubbed nearly 3,000 films by 1989, the end of the Communist regime that led to the execution of Ceaușescu, and her voice ironically became the voice of the people. When the latest video party was held in someone’s apartment, it became a moment of awe and wonder, a glimpse and a chance to see the outside world, the Western values that were shielded from Romanian eyes. A country kept in ignorance began to see the glimmer of hope.

Throughout the documentary, we get interviews with various Romanians who watched “Top Gun,” “9 ½ Weeks,” “Rocky” (one man emulated the Italian Stallion’s egg yolk prep prior to running through the city), “Last Tango in Paris” (a woman felt she was struck by lightning when she saw it), and several Chuck Norris flicks especially “Missing in Action.” The Romanian citizens felt that TV was propaganda and, with the influx of these films, they were fed propaganda that was not Ceaușescu’s. An outsider’s view of a world was being shut out thanks to the ruling dictatorship; a dictatorship that sensed that Western influences could lead to a revolution, a change in the country’s political system. The Romanian government couldn’t have been more right.

Directed with care and sensitivity by debuting director Ilinca Calugareanu and instilling an exciting level of espionage through riveting reenactments of Nistor’s secretive recordings, “Chuck Norris vs. Communism” is a most unusual historical documentary that reminds us of the power of images. Movies don’t always change things but, in this case, they changed a whole regime. The implication is that the state secret police were also instrumental in implementing change because they were bribed to see these films for free. A change was coming. 

Living in Oblivion crossed with The Truman Show

BOWFINGER (1999)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Eddie Murphy's newfangled success post-"Nutty Professor" has not exactly been inspiring. Missing from his last few films was the wisecracking Eddie from "Beverly Hills Cop" and "48 HRS." who made us smile with his every maneuver - gargantuan laugh, wide grin, and a rapid-fire exchange of dialogue like a charged-up comic ready to make you howl over with laughter at every expense. "Coming to America" and "The Nutty Professor" were among his finest achievements, and among some of his best acting roles to date. Add his latest film "Bowfinger" to the crop - an often wicked comedy where his sure-handed personality shines thanks to a solidly good script by writer-actor Steve Martin.

Bobby Bowfinger is the name of a low-level producer/director (Steve Martin) with big dreams of making a motion-picture with current action star, the paranoid Kit Ramsey (Eddie Murphy). Problem is Kit turns him down, and now Bowfinger comes up with an inspired plan, he will make a film by secretly filming Kit. He has cameras hidden in bushes outside Kit's mansion, and films Kit having lunch at trendy restaurants by having his actors sneak up to him and deliver the lines. Essentially, wherever Kit goes, Bowfinger will be there making him the unaware star of his film. The catch is that no one in his crew is aware that Kit has not actually been cast.

Apparently, Bowfinger saved over $1500 since his childhood to make his dream project called "Chubby Rain," which has a ludicrous storyline dealing with aliens hiding in drops of water. The screenplay is written by Afrim (Adam Alexi-Malle), a "damn good writer, as well as an accountant and part-time receptionist," assures Bowfinger. In terms of casting, Bowfinger has an experienced drama queen, Carol (Christine Baranski), who's been waiting an entire year for this opportunity, and wants to meet Kit. He's also got Daisy from Ohio (Heather Graham) who walks into his bungalow/office with aspirations to be a star. At first rejected, then accepted for her great kissing scenes, she finds herself sleeping to the top of this low-level group to get more scenes written with Kit. Enter another actor who tries out for a part, Jiff Ramsey (also played by Murphy), a goofy, bespectacled man who not only passes for Kit's double but is also Kit's real-life brother. "I am an active renter at Blockbuster," says Jiff during his audition, who assures Bowfinger that he has had accidents cutting his own hair.

There are two hilarious scenes that had me doubled over with laughter. One is a parking lot scene where an unseen dog wearing heels scares Kit while walking to his car. Another equally funny scene is when Jiff runs across a Los Angeles freeway while evading all traffic and yelling "Hail to God!"

"Bowfinger" does fall short of expectations even with its ingenious premise, a semi-cross between "The Truman Show" and "Living in Oblivion." Steve Martin fails to push the film itself further with comic bang...there are often more whimpers than genuine laughs. He is still a hell of a writer, but he holds back too often. Some scenes as directed by Frank Oz are too flat and lack the pizzazz that they need - a chase after Kit while hiding a camera in a tree planted on Bowfinger's truck leaves a lot to be desired.

If nothing else, most of the actors deliver juicy performances. Eddie Murphy has two great roles - one as the nervous superstar who tries "to keep it together" at a Scientology-type cult led by Terence Stamp as its calm, spiritual leader, and the other as the dim-witted, naive Jiff who for the first time in his life feels accepted. Murphy plays these roles with aplomb, and proves that with a good script, he can flow with comic ease and be funny as hell. His smiles and winks are priceless. Steve Martin is, as always, good old Steve - and here he plays the ruthless and scheming con artist as all desperate first-time directors usually are. He'll do anything he can to make his film, even to the point of stealing Daisy's Ohio credit cards. Morality is never an issue when making a production - desperation is.

The one actor who fails to deliver is Heather Graham as the ingenue Daisy. As in "Austin Powers 2," Graham is lifeless and oblivious - she seems to show little in the way of comic flair or energy. A sad state of affairs from a dramatic actress with a powerful range as she proved to have in "Boogie Nights" and "Drugstore Cowboy." Comedy does not seem to be her forte.

"Bowfinger" is uneven and does not have the breeze or whiz of director Frank Oz's other efforts, such as "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," but it is full of surprises and contains moments of inspired lunacy. Martin and Murphy make a great team for the world of comedy - let's hope they reunite in the future.

Count Yourself Lucky if you skip it

LUCKY NUMBER SLEVIN (2006)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia (Review from 2008)

Just when you thought neo-noir Tarantino knock-offs were on the way out, they come back in. And just when you thought that referencing old movies in dialogue that sounds suspiciously Tarantinian was on the way out, it comes right back in. Of course, "Lucky Number Slevin" doesn't suffer for those reasons alone - it is also stultifyingly dull.

The occasionally boring, pallid Josh Hartnett plays Slevin, an unlucky guy who gets punched in the face by a mugger and seems to forget that a dress code in the New York City streets doesn't entail wearing only a towel around your waist. Slevin is visiting his friend Nick in New York, except Nick is not home so Slevin lets himself in. Nick's inquisitive neighbor (Lucy Liu) is wondering what is behind Slevin's towel! Oh, yeah, and she loves James Bond movies and can quote them (Tarantino coming in to the mix again). Slevin's lack of luck becomes clearer when he is mistaken for Nick by some hoods. It turns out that Nick owes $96,000 dollars to two rival crime lords, the Boss (Morgan Freeman) and the Rabbi (Ben Kingsley). In the only nice twist in the movie, the crime lords live across the street from each other's penthouses! Slevin's dilemma is worsened when the Boss says he can forget the gambling debt owed if he does a job for him - kill the Rabbi's son! The Rabbi asks for a different favor. But then why the hell is a world-class hitman (Bruce Willis) needed? Maybe because the assassin will kill Slevin whom everyone thinks is Nick. The mind boggles and wiggles and, quite frankly, it is hard to care because you've seen it all before, except not with such a lack of humanity.

"Lucky Number Slevin" is movie that closes its hands at the end and, when you open them to decipher its meaning, it comes up empty. Or maybe it release two flipping birds at the audience. I've seen movies like "Lucky Number Slevin" and two come to mind that are far superior in every respect and are fresher and more introspective - "The Usual Suspects" and "The Limey." "Usual Suspects" had an ending that just barely negated the entire movie you watched - it was pure trickery and sleight-of-hand but it was entertaining and memorably acted. "The Limey" is full of flashbacks and flashforwards and had a powerful ending that enriched the neo-noir, thriller mechanics of its story (and it had Terence Stamp to boot). "Lucky Number Slevin" has...nothing. It is a movie dependent on style and numerous shoot- outs and pop-culture discussions on Hitchcock, "The Shmoo" and James Bond than anything else. Once the plot becomes apparent, the ending (which is technically foreseeable) is not a cheat. But director Paul McGuigan seems to think he is more clever than he really is. All the flashbacks and flashforwards do not indicate anything that you don't already know - it is superfluous decoration. And Hartnett's Slevin is so insufferably inert that it is hard to care about his dilemma, or lack thereof. And when the Rabbi discusses the mistaken identity plot of "North By Northwest," I became very angry, knowing that the filmmakers were trying to link this overproduced mess to a Hitchcock classic.

Hartnett is not someone I would wish for more leading parts in, though he comes alive in the latter sections of the film. Morgan Freeman and Ben Kingsley have seen better days. Lucy Liu is always a sweet presence on screen but she is nothing more than an annoyance after a while. As for Bruce Willis, he is a consummate actor on screen but this is a part that is far below his acting capability. Reliable Robert Forster appears out of nowhere and basically explains the plot (which needs no explaining) in the same way he explained Norman Bates's psychosis in the "Psycho" remake. Talk about references!

So forget the bland coolness of "Lucky Number Slevin" completely - it is a monotonous and repetitive waste of time. Have yourself a grand time at the movies by watching "North By Northwest" or "The Limey" or "The Usual Suspects." You won't mistake them for "Lucky Number Slevin."

Family Friendly with a Dozen Smiles

CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN (2003)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Some family friendly movies I dismiss almost immediately because usually a cornball family movie nowadays, or even in 2003, would be oozing with thick maple syrupy sentiment. I do not mind sentimentality when it comes to a practically pre-sold Steve Martin family entertainment but you may understand where I am coming from. The fact that every move can be anticipated in this movie or any of its other cinematic counterparts is a given - this genre is almost always written by a committee, not a labor of love that had been festering for ages to get made. That said, I was sold by "Cheaper By the Dozen," a genteel, sweet and frequently funny movie that moved me. It is not great art but it is damn fine pop entertainment and the maple syrupy sentiment flows through a sieve rather than plopping on our laps. Ugh, that did not sound right.

A Midland, Indiana football coach, Tom Baker (Steve Martin), has twelve children, a homely wife, Kate (Bonnie Hunt, the ideal Mom), who has written a book about their life raising these kids, and they all live in an isolated rural house. It looks so idyllic that nobody in their right mind would want ever to leave this place. One particular facet about this house that I loved is that the bedrooms seem tiny (including the elder teenager's room, the teen played by Tom Welling, whose ceiling is at a right angle at his bedside). The kitchen looks tiny and definitely lived-in. Anyways, Tom gets the job offer of his lifetime - to coach at his alma mater in Evanston, Illinois. It is his dream job and his wife is on board, but not their kids. Yeah, surprise. The kids all grew up in Midland and do not want to move, especially Welling who does not want to leave behind his girlfriend. Not even more money sways the brooding brood, well, not until they move in to the new house. One kid, bespectacled Mark (Forrest Landis) who feels left out of the family, has a sweet bedroom with open compartments that lead to the basement and outside to the bushes.

Naturally, Tom's ideal dream job and Kate's desire to have a book tour of her optioned book leaves little room and time for family gatherings. Since Kate leaves for a nationwide book tour, Tom is left to care for all the kids and coach the big time football team which means endless hours of work and strategy...well, you see where this is going. When the kids with sour looks on their faces are denied quality time with Dad, well, again, how often have we seen that played out?

I need not remind you that Tom can't handle the chaos of twelve children and that Kate abruptly cancels her book tour, and so on. Yet despite there being no surprises during its calculated plot turns that, not unlike the Time and Motion expert father of the original novel that serves as inspiration for this movie and its original 1950 cinematic adaptation, I still bought this movie hook, line and sinker. The family is likable and goofy (especially Hilary Duff as one of the older daughters), the ongoing chaos of all these kids running into each other is always funny (like the running gag of the falling chandelier) and messy, and even the stereotypically perturbed next-door neighbors are not an unlikable pair of depressing individuals. If one episode laid it on a little too thickly, it would be Mark's dilemma, which includes running away from his family in an Amtrak train and dealing with his pet frog. That last bit at the train station strained credibility a tad - how the hell did the kid get a train ticket unless he stole a credit card or took some cash from Dad? Never mind that flaw, the execution of it was simply too much.

"Cheaper by the Dozen" is just a sweetly innocent trifle of a movie, an excuse for Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt to parade around and get all family-friendly with a bunch of lovable kids. And I bought it.

UnSullied Miracle on the Hudson

SULLY (2016)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Reprinted with permission by Steel Notes Magazine

Not unlike Clint Eastwood’s tour-de-force film biography “American Sniper,” Eastwood’s “Sully” places us squarely in the cockpit seat with its lead heroic character. Obviously both films deal with the true stories of true-blooded American heroes who have been defined as such in an oversaturated media – holding up Sully and the Lethal Sniper, the late Chris Kyle, as American icons of different strengths and values. Captain Sully is an experienced pilot with years of superior airline service with not one infraction, except for an emergency landing of a plane on the Hudson River. Chris Kyle had 166 confirmed kills during four tours of the Iraq War. The difference is that Chris Kyle had some complications in his life including his PTSD, his rocky relationship with his wife, and it showed a man who had some uncertainty of his standing in life. U.S. Airways pilot Captain Sullenberger is depicted as a man who felt landing the plane on a river and saving people was the best maneuver he could manage under the stressful circumstances. Only the film is not willing to show much more.

Truth be told, as based on a 2009 memoir by the Captain entitled “Highest Duty: My Search for What Really Matters”, maybe there is not much more to Captain Chesney Sullenberger. As played with a quiet ease and always admirable restraint by a silver-haired, silver-mustached Tom Hanks, he is merely a hero for saving lives in a city that has been fraught with terror and much more in its past. He is New York City’s hero but Sully doesn’t feel like a hero, he just did his duty. That is about as complicated as the character gets, that and the nightmares he has of losing control of the plane by flying too low over New York and crashing into buildings (a scene repeated twice so anyone who has fear of flying, you’ve been warned). Sully has some 9/11 visions wrapped around his head, nightmarish visions that may have crossed the mind of many airline pilots post-9/11. After he lands the plane safely in the water, he and his co-pilot, Jeff Skiles (astoundingly good performance by the underrated Aaron Eckhart), are still cross-examined by the National Transportation Safety Board for potential pilot error, something that could end their airline careers. Although I can imagine that the NTSB would want to do a thorough investigation, apparently they did not like their depiction in the movie, citing that they were never hostile to the pilots (a claim supported by the real Sully himself). The error may be in landing safely on the Hudson rather than trying to land the plane at Teterboro airport or LaGuardia. Sully claims both engines malfunctioned after hitting a flock of birds while the NTSB claims only one engine failed. In any case, Sully’s decision during this six-minute flight is to brace for impact on the water, fearing he might never make it to either airport.

Aside from Hanks’ Sully speaking to his wife on the phone throughout the movie (Laura Linney, by the way, plays the thankless role of a woman holding her emotions in check while on the phone), Eastwood’s film is nothing more than a superbly realized dramatization of an airline pilot who achieved something rare and miraculous. We all think of him as a hero, but he didn’t, something which Hanks embodies almost too well. Once the funnyman with a wicked, smartass veneer to him, Hanks migrated to more serious, mature roles that defined a certain Everyman, an American hero-type in a now largely existential era where so few exist anymore. That might be a good enough reason for Hanks to play the role and for the audience to embrace such a tale of a hero with no superpowers, thankfully. I only wish there was more to the man himself. Coming from the same director who helmed “American Sniper” and “Bird,” a densely dark film about saxophonist Charlie Parker, I expected more than a simple entertainment that provides solid proof of bravery without any measure of depth.

Amoral, indifferent Madoff

THE WIZARD OF LIES (2017)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Reprinted with permission by Steel Notes Magazine

White-collar liars who steal money from the poor and give nothing back to the community are typical cinematic and literary antiheroes – there is nothing existential about them, they are just greedy yet they possess a snake oil charm. Modern cinema has had them in great ubiquity, among the most reptilian without question was Gordon Gekko in Oliver Stone’s “Wall Street.” The mistaken assumption is that Gordon was seen as a hero of the cocaine-laden, money-hungry 1980’s. He was no hero and goes to jail for his offenses, you know, buying stock and selling it cheap and making millions in the process. Still, Gordon had something money can’t buy – sophistication and a smile that most grifters could never muster. Bernie Madoff, a real-life swindler, used a Ponzi scheme to rip off wealthy people through the wealth management branch of his firm. It amounted to more than 65 billion dollars fraud, the biggest of its kind in history. In Barry Levinson’s deadly serious film, “The Wizard of Lies,” Bernie is an amoral man who steals, and steals, and steals and there is nothing more, nothing less at stake.  From beginning to end, he is the same exact person, resolutely uncaring and undeniably evil.

In 1960, Bernie Madoff (Robert De Niro) founded and was chairman of the Wall Street firm Bernard L. Madoff Investment Securities LLC. Although I can’t begin to understand this firm’s business model, let’s just say that it was linked to the creation of NASDAQ. The roots of the firm’s prominence and longevity, however, hold little interest in “The Wizard of Lies.” The film starts off in December 2008, just after the economic collapse, when the turds began to fly and hit innocent victims in the face. Well, not so innocent to Madoff who justifies his criminal activity of more than two decades by claiming that his victims should’ve known better than to invest. His victims were greedy, if not more so than he was.

The fascinating aspect to “The Wizard of Lies” is that there is no sense of sneaky, amoral fun to the schemes, no real kick. A business meeting is what it is, and when Madoff scores and gets the billions, he has no real pleasure in what he does. Ironically, it is as if it meant nothing to him, just another day at the office.

Madoff’s marriage to Ruth (a spectacularly awesome Michelle Pfeiffer) lacks passion, to say the least, and the most disturbing scene between them (which could have been unintentionally funny under the wrong hands) is when Ruth decides that a suicide pact by ingesting lots of Ambien would be preferred than dealing with the consequences of losing her husband in jail. Ugh, that was too alarming for me, too realistically conveyed particularly when Madoff decides to join her. Once again, there is no fun to be had in this marriage before or after the convictions against Madoff.

Madoff’s relationship to his two sons who work at the firm results in tense arguments and friction. Things get heated between Ruth and Bernie – how did these two ever fall in love in the first place or was it merely a business transaction? That reminded me of De Niro’s business-minded Ace Rothstein in Scorsese’s “Casino” who got his Vegas girlfriend (Sharon Stone) to commit to a marriage by approaching it like a business transaction. The difference was that Ace seemed to really care about his wife in that film – Madoff can’t or won’t show emotion. Essentially, “The Wizard of Lies” is about an obsessively business-minded suit with no emotional interior or exterior. Everyone else in the family shows some measure of regret, particularly at not knowing what gross misdeeds the family patriarch was up to.  

Robert De Niro, still one of our finest actors ever (watch “The Intern” for proof that he never lost his bite post-“Analyze This”), has a difficult task at hand – he has to play a blank-faced man with zero emotion. When his sons get too inquisitive, he brushes them off with angry, curse-laden words. Yet De Niro, a passionate actor of a high level of intensity, never expresses any other singular emotion except the look of a sourpuss who has avoided a human connection beyond the discussion of borrowing money. His Madoff (and no doubt the real person as well) is an aggressive Ponzi schemer who can take and take without ever feeling the repercussions. Sure, he ends up in jail with several life sentences but it does not affect him. Yes, there is the aforementioned Ambien fever dream sequence where Bernie and Ruth take several pills with the intent of committing suicide and all he can ask is, “are you sure?” Ruth eventually leaves him, his sons die (one a tragic suicide, the other from mantle cell lymphoma) and he is still standing around like a passive statue in prison without remorse. If there is any sense of compassion, he sure has a funny way of showing it. De Niro, the fiery Method actor who gave us solid emotional firecracker portraits in the past like Jake La Motta and Travis Bickle, has given us his first apathetic sociopath. He gets several rude awakenings but all they do is enclose him further from us. We come up empty and realize that De Niro and director Levinson have made us angry at this monstrosity. Our feelings matter, his do not.