THE WAR WITH GRANDPA: 2 ½ STARS
Depending on which way you look at “The War with Grandpa,” a new family comedy starring Robert De Niro and now playing in theatres, it’s either about a child trying to assert some kind of control in his life or a gruesome exposé of elder abuse.
Based on the children's book of the same name by Robert Kimmel Smith, “The War with Grandpa” is far more family-friendly than “Dirty Grandpa,” De Niro’s other ancestral comedy. The Oscar-winning actor plays Ed, an old codger who gets arrested after causing a scene at the self check out at his local grocery store.
Widowed and out of step with the times—he can’t figure out how to swipe on an iPhone—his daughter Sally (Uma Thurman) decides it’s time he moved in with her family, husband Arthur (Rob Riggle) their two daughters and son Peter (Oakes Fegley). Trouble is, there’s no room.
Grandpa can’t handle the stairs to the basement apartment. Ditto the attic loft so Peter is forced to give up his room and he’s not happy about it. The youngster declares war, pulling a series of escalating pranks on his grandfather designed to force him out of the room. Trouble is, grandpa fights back.
“We’re in the middle of a turf war over a bedroom,” Ed says.
“The War with Grandpa” is part “Home Alone,” part “Jackass” but with an old guy. The warfare consists of slapstick gags mixed with the story’s easy sentimentality—Peter says, “I love you grandpa… but the war is still on.”—and adult diaper jokes. In other words, it is exactly what you imagine it will be.
De Niro does a riff on his tough guy persona, tempered with age and humour, that the film hopes will inevitably become endearing. That there are no surprises will be comforting to some happy to see old school stars like De Niro, Thurman, Cheech Marin, Christopher Walken (whose collective careers don’t exactly scream family entertainment unless you are the Addams Family) and Jane Seymour have some juvenile, if forgettable, good fun on screen. Just don’t expect anything you haven’t seen before, except, perhaps the tacked on anti-war message near the end.
“The War with Grandpa” is a harmless family film but the movie lover in me couldn’t help but cringe just a bit watching “The Deer Hunter” co-stars De Niro and Walken return to battle against a bunch of tweens.
100% WOLF: 3 STARS
There is nothing particularly original about “100% Wolf,” the animated coming-of-age story now playing in Cineplex theatres, but what it lacks in new ideas it makes up for in gimmicks and screwball action.
In this werewolf story for kids, based on the book by Jayne Lyons, lycanthropy isn’t a curse. Sure, they have claws and great big teeth and are still misunderstood by humans but instead of mauling people their purpose in life is to help folks in need. “The best wolves don’t have the sharpest claws or the pointiest teeth. They have the biggest hearts.”
“An American Werewolf in London” this ain’t. In fact, it’s more “Lion King” than anything else.
At the enter of the story is Freddy Lupin (voiced by Jerra Wright-Smith as a child and later by Ilai Swindells), a ten-year-old from a long line of powerful werewolves. When Freddy’s father (Jai Courtney) and pack Alpha is killed during a selfless act of heroism, the youngster not only loses his dad but also the pack’s sacred Moon Stone ring. In the midst of the turmoil Freddy’s evil uncle, Uncle Scar…. Er, ahhh, I mean, Lord Hightail (Michael Bourchier), takes over, assuming control of the pack (sound familiar?). When Freddy is old enough he will be king of the werewolves but first he must be initiated.
That’s where the real problems start.
On the night of his coming-of-age Freddy isn’t graced with fearsome fur and elongated claws. Instead he’s turned into the sworn enemy of the werewolves, a dog. A delightful poodle with a shock of pink hair and wide eyes to be exact. “I’m a fluffy, pink joke,” he says.
“You bring shame on the memory of your father,” snarls Lord Hightail. “You have until moon rise tomorrow to prove you are a real wolf. Otherwise the moon spirits will choose a new High Howler and you will be banished.”
With the help of a scruffy stray called the Great Houndini (Samara Weaving) Freddy goes on a madcap mission that sees them sent to a canine beauty parlour before making a stop at the dog pound. On top of that they must deal with Foxwell Cripp (Rhys Darby), an ice-cream truck scooper who brings the slapstick and some wild-and-crazy ideas. Will Freddy make it back in time to prove he’s wolf worthy? I think you probably already know the answer.
Throwing the best bits from “The Lion King,” “How to Train Your Dragon,” “The Secret Lives of Pets” and a handful of others into a blender and hitting puree shouldn’t work, but “100% Wolf” pulls it off, modestly.
Good messages about accepting everyone for who they are adorn a story with lots of eye-catching action—even if the animation isn’t as slick as the movies that inspired it—fun, kid-friendly characters and jokes that should make children giggle. Parents may not be as engaged, although a doberman who seems to be channeling Werner Herzog is a hoot.
“100% Wolf” isn’t destined to become a classic like the movies that inspired it, but as an agreeable time-waster for kids who miss going to the theatre, it’s a howl.
THE FORTY-YEAR-OLD VERSION: 3 ½ STARS
Twenty minutes into “The Forty-Year Old Version,” now streaming on Netflix, a despondent Radha Blank (Blank, playing a fictionalized version of herself), having attacked a potential backer for her new play cries out in anguish, “I just want to be an artist! Mommy, please tell me what to do!” Making art, especially from an underrepresented perspective, is the theme of this very entertaining movie.
In the film’s world, Blank is a single, playwright whose theatre career has stalled. She was once celebrated on a “30 under 30 list to watch” but is now almost 40-year-old and feeling invisible. “We watched,” says a TV reporter, “but where did she go?” Blank survives by teaching high school drama and hanging out with her best friend, talent agent and one-man support system Archie (Peter Kim).
She harbours high hopes for her most recent work, a stage play called “Harlem Ave.” Trouble is, she’s having trouble getting it produced. There’s either an African-American theatre company that doesn’t have the money to mount it properly or Josh Whitman (Reed Birney), a white, liberal producer who wants to meddle with the script, turning it into poverty porn. “I’m a playwright,” she says, “but I don’t really feel like one these days.”
Feeling cut loose from the theatre world she veers out of her lane to give rapping a try. Working with Bronx music producer, D (Oswin Benjamin) she finds a voice—and a new name, RadhaMUSprim—to express life frustrations about sciatica, and the AARP in rhyme but chokes in her first on-stage show. Dejected, she opts for commerce over art and agrees to compromise, adding in a white co-star at Whitman’s suggestions to get “Harlem Ave” produced.
“The play,” she says to Archie. “It’s not mine anymore.”
“The next one will be,” he replies.
Blank, whose resume includes off-Broadway stage plays and writing and producing the TV adaptation of “Spike Lee’s She’s Gotta Have It,” is as engaging a screen presence as she is a writer/director. With humour and a sharp sense of social commentary she’s crafted a film that observes artistic insecurity, middle age and the difficulty of balancing one’s true voice against commercial concerns.
At the centre of it all is Blank, whose self-deprecating character finds strength and wisdom, but not in the traditional underdog narrative. The movie is leisurely, taking its time to get where it is going, allowing the viewer get to know Radha and root for her as she finds her path.
“The Forty-Year Old Version” is an account of an artist’s struggle but it isn’t strictly an artist’s story. It’s universal tale of being true to one’s self no matter the cost.
YELLOW ROSE: 3 ½ STARS
Country music, at its best, is a format for delivering songs that comment on the human condition. Storytelling and a heart laid bare are key components to any great country tune. And a bit of twang doesn’t hurt either. All those things, and more, are available in “Yellow Rose,” a new drama now playing in theatres.
Set pm the outskirts of Austin, Texas, “Yellow Rose” is the story of Rose Garcia (Eva Noblezada, a Filipina17-year-old who lives at the rundown motel where her mother Priscilla (Princess Punzalan) is an undocumented worker. Rose is obsessed with country music and when she isn’t being wooed by Elliot (Liam Booth), a sweet young guy who works at the music shop, she’s writing songs, even though she’s too shy to share them with anyone.
Her life is flipped upside down when she sneaks away to The Broken Spoke, an Austin honky-tonk, to see real-life Texas legend Dale Watson (playing himself) only to return to find her mother has been scooped by Immigration and Customs Enforcement and is now in custody.
Hoping to avoid arrest, Rose hides out with her aunt Gail (Lea Salonga) in a wealthy suburb across town as she mulls over the possibility of returning to Manilla with her mother or staying in Texas. Her aunt is welcoming, if cautious, but her uncle, a man she barely knows, wants her gone. Once again, Rose hits the road, this time finding refuge at the back room of The Broken Spoke and a mentor in the form of Watson.
“Yellow Rose,” the debut feature from director Diane Paragas, tackles big questions without offering up answers. Instead, as Roger Ebert once said of cinema in general, it acts as an empathy machine, allowing you to get to know, and feel for, a person whose future is unsure. It’s an urgent plea for inclusivity, for allowing people to find a place in the world and live without fear. Paragas does a good job of making sure the story never gets cloying. She is aided by Noblezeda whose performance is sweet but steely and Salonga, who returns to the screen for the first time in a quarter century, to play Rose’s estranged aunt.
My favorite performance comes from Watson, who in real life is a singer-songwriter and restaurateur in Texas. As Rose’s mentor, a man who drinks beer in the morning and sings his heart out on stage at night, he drips authenticity. He teaches Rose to trust herself in music and in life, and you get the sense he learned those same lessons the hard way.
As I said, “Yellow Rose” doesn’t offer up any answers to the big questions it raises, but it is infused with hope, and, like a good country song, tells a an affecting story with just three chords and the truth.
PERCY: 3 ½ STARS
“Percy,” a new based-on-real-life drama from director Clark Johnson now playing in select theatres, is a David and Goliath story with a universal message of standing up for what you believe in. Christopher Walken plays septuagenarian Percy Schmeiser, a small-town farmer from Bruno, Saskatchewan, who refuses to be bullied by a giant agrochemical corporation.
Schmeiser and his family have been canola farmers for generations. His cash crop is planted the old-fashioned way, with “the most virile seeds” saved from previous harvests. That’s why it is a shock to be accused by agrochemical Goliath Monsanto Canada of illegally growing their patented canola seed without a license.
"There's got to be a mistake,” Schmeiser says. “I got my own seeds."
Determined to prove his innocence, Schmeiser hires a lawyer he can’t afford, Jackson Weaver (Zach Braff), and vows to fight back. When Monsanto legally outguns Weaver, threatening to bury the lawyer under piles of motions, along comes agricultural activist Rebecca Salcau (Christina Ricci) with a way forward. “what you are doing is heroic,” she tells him. “You should be recognized.”
“Percy” is the story of not bowing down to corporate greed. A restrained Walken leaves behind his trademarked vocal tics to bring the principled Percy to life, and Johnson keeps the focus on him. There are courtroom scenes and some legalese but this isn’t “A Few Good Men on a Farm.”
It’s about a man struggling to maintain his family farm in the face of an agricultural revolution, a very real and hot button topic across North America and the world. As Percy reluctantly becomes a spokesman for the cause screenwriters Garfield Lindsay Miller and Hilary Pryor find authentic and humanistic ways to illustrate the plight of farmers like the title character. “Farmers know the land. They know their plants,” Percy says. “Monsanto knows winning and losing and profits.”
It is a classic underdog story, one designed to make your blood boil at the disregard corporations have for the little guy.
“Percy” isn’t a flashy movie, although the landscape shots of Saskatchewan’s open skies and fields are often breathtaking. Instead it’s a low-key story of the fight to maintain the integrity of the food we put in our mouths.
