Review: 'Chuck Berry' gives a full view of the life of the man who 'invented' rock 'n' roll

It’s hard to disagree with the claim that Chuck Berry was “the king of rock ’n’ roll” — if not the inventor, as the documentary titled simply “Chuck Berry” argues strongly, through the voices of friends and family who knew him best.

The documentary begins at one of Berry’s low points, in his teen years when he was sent to a reformatory on an armed-robbery charge, and one of his highest, when he met Themetta Suggs — whom he married in 1948, and stayed married to until his death in 2017.

Berry began his musical career in his home town of St. Louis, playing R&B in a trio and perfecting his signature guitar licks. On a trip to Chicago, he met the blues legend Muddy Waters, who told Berry to get in touch with Leonard Chess, co-founder of the influential Chess Records label. Berry took a country song, “Ida Red,” and adapted it with R&B grooves and Berry’s own lyrics; the song, “Maybelline,” became Berry’s first hit record.

The radio dial, some of Berry’s friends and admirers say here, was the one aspect of American culture that wasn’t segregated — because anybody could pick up mainstream (read “white”) stations and stations that played Black music in any major city. Some mainstream programmers couldn’t tell, by ear, that Berry was Black, and the kids didn’t care. They heard a guy singing about cars and girls and high school, and playing music they could dance to.

Director Jon Brewer — who has directed documentaries about B.B. King, Guns ’n’ Roses and other acts — collects a wide array of Berry’s peers and admirers, such as Johnny Rivers, George Thorogood, Joe Perry of Aerosmith, Gene Simmons of Kiss, Nile Rodgers, Joe Bonamassa, Gary Clark Jr. (who was introduced to Berry by, of all things, “Back to the Future”). He also gets Themetta and Berry’s children and grandchildren to reminisce about Berry’s softer side. As for Berry’s run-ins with the law, Brewer talks to Berry’s lawyers.

Even though Brewer largely tells Berry’s story chronologically, there are some odd jumps and juxtapositions — along with some unfortunate stylistoc choices, like some re-creations that are more flash than substance. When the documentary is working well, it’s because Brewer focuses on the music, and how Berry kept playing through all of his life’s ups and downs, reminding the world who put the swagger in rock ’n’ roll.  

——

‘Chuck Berry’

★★★

Available starting Friday, September 18, on the Salt Lake Film Society’s virtual cinema, SLFS@Home. Not rated, but probably PG-13 for some language, and thematic material. Running time: 103 minutes.

Review: 'The Broken Hearts Gallery' is a fizzy romantic comedy, and a showcase for the delightful Geraldine Viswanathan

The romantic comedy “The Broken Hearts Gallery” goes everywhere one expects a fizzy, bubbly New York romance is supposed to go — but it also goes to some interesting places, thanks to the female-focused writing and directing of Natalie Krinsky and the dazzling central performance by Geraldine Viswanathan.

You might remember Viswanathan from her breakout role in the raunch comedy “Blockers,” as the confident, sports-loving, sex-positive teen daughter of John Cena. She also wowed audiences at Sundance a year ago in “Hala,” as a Muslim teen confronting her desires. Here, in her first Hollywood leading role, it’s clear that Viswanathan is a name we’re all going to learn to spell it and pronounce, because we’ll be writing and talking about her a lot.

Viswanathan plays Lucy, a young gallery assistant in New York who thinks her biggest night is ahead of her: She’s overseeing a major opening for her boss, Eva (Bernadette Peters), a legend in the art world — and she’ll be doing it with her coworker and boyfriend, Max (Utkarsh Ambudkar). But when Lucy sees Max with an old flame (Tattiawna Jones), Lucy’s big night unravels into disaster and Eva fires her. 

All Lucy has to show for the evening is Max’s necktie. This turns out to be the latest souvenir Lucy has collected from all of her many breakups, which form a shrine that her gal-pal roommates — cynical law student Amanda (Molly Gordon, from “Booksmart”) and lesbian lothario Nadine (Phillipa Soo, from “Hamilton”) — think is creepy and debilitating.

One good thing emerges from that bad night: Lucy accidentally meets Nick (Dacre Montgomery, late of “Stranger Things”), a nice guy who listens to her drunken sob story after she breaks up with Max. The two become platonic friends, and Lucy takes an interest in the boutique hotel Nick is trying to open. In their conversations, Nick convinces Lucy to get rid of Max’s tie, by hanging it on a nail in Nick’s hotel. She writes a little note describing the breakup, and leaves it there.

The next morning, Nick calls Lucy with a surprise: Someone has left another breakup-related item, a map for a road trip that never happened, next to the tie. Lucy posts this on social media, and very soon people from all over New York are bringing in various items left over from busted romances — and Lucy has a viral hit, one that might produce a little money for Nick’s hotel.

From that premise, Krinsky — a TV scribe making her feature debut as writer and director — spins out some wry and witty commentary about love, and the grief that comes when that love is cut off. The roommates, perfectly played by Gordon and Soo, get the best one-liners. (A favorite, when Nadine is confronted with evidence of the many Russian models she has dated and dumped: “I’m going to have to make right with the Russians, before Putin has me poisoned.”). Krinsky also creates a smart, tenderly rendered backstory to explain Lucy’s inability to let go of old memories.

The whole weight of “The Broken Hearts Gallery” is on Viswanathan’s shoulders, and she carries it like a champ. She captures Lucy’s Manhattan sophistication (good thing, considering the movie’s shot in Toronto), and also the slight desperation behind her sprawling collection of ex-boyfriends’ stuff. Viswanathan has a future as America’s movie sweetheart — and, odds are, a whole lot more.

——

‘The Broken Hearts Gallery’

★★★1/2

Opening Friday, September 11, in theaters where open. Rated PG-13 for sexual content throughout and some crude references, strong language and drug references. Running time: 108 minutes.

Review: 'Sibyl' veers wildly from sex comedy to psychological drama, with an unstable shrink at the center

The French comedy-drama “Sibyl” is borderline crazy, but not for the reasons the title suggests — because this tale of a psychiatrist spiraling out of control has nothing to do with “Sybil,” the famous story of a woman with multiple personalities.

At the film’s start, Sibyl (played by Virginie Efira) is trying to reduce the voices in her life. She’s a Paris psychiatrist who is trying to retire, to give up most of her patients so she can concentrate on writing her novel. But the blank laptop screen intimidates her, and she finds little to inspire her writing in her stable life, married to rock-solid Etienne (Paul Hamy) and being mom to two daughters. 

The only thing Sibyl thinks to write about is an old boyfriend, Gabriel (Niels Schneider), with whom she had great sex but also a raging alcohol problem for which she still attends AA meetings.

Then a woman, desperate for a psychiatrist, comes to her office. Margot (Adèle Exarchopoulos, from “Blue Is the Warmest Color”) is an actress in a dilemma: She’s two months’ pregnant, and the father is Igor (Gaspard Ulliel, from “Hannibal Rising”), a very famous actor who’s married to Mika (Sandra Hüller, from “Toni Erdmann”), the director of the movie in which Margot and Igor are currently working.

Against her better judgment, and the advice of her own shrink (Arthur Harari), Sibyl takes Margot’s case, and starts weaving elements of Margot’s story into her novel alongside the scenes with Gabriel. When Margot threatens to do violence to herself, Sibyl hops on a plane to the Mediterranean, where Mika is shooting the finale of her movie. Mika knows about Igor’s affair with Margot, but holds back her rage because her only concern is getting her movie finished. 

Director Justine Triet, who co-wrote the screenplay with Harari, fashions a sharp, sometimes funny and often intense story of desire, whether for sexual fulfillment, emotional clarity or the muse to strike. Sibyl’s involvement in Margot’s life — and, as things proceed, Mika’s movie — lead the good doctor to  spin out spectacularly, and much of the enjoyment is watching Efira (who worked with Triet on “In Bed With Victoria” in 2016) try to keep going as it all collapses around her. The observation that we’re all actors in our narrative, and some are better at faking it than others, is what propels “Sibyl” to a smart, and emotionally resonant, ending.

——

‘Sibyl’

★★★

Available Friday, September 11, in the Salt Lake Film Society’s virtual cinema. Not rated, but probably R for strong sexuality, language and mature themes. Running time: 101 minutes; in French with subtitles.

Review: 'Jimmy Carter: Rock & Roll President' doesn't quite make the case for Carter's musical connections

Alas, the documentary “Jimmy Carter: Rock & Roll President” plays out much like Carter’s one term in office: Carrying lots of promise in the beginning, but becoming muddled and unfocused as it goes.

The movie begins with Carter’s acceptance speech at the 1976 Democratic National Convention, when he became the party’s candidate for president. In it, he quotes Bob Dylan — the first time a major political candidate quoted a pop musician positively.

As noted by several interview subjects — a list that includes President Carter and his son, Chip, several former aides, and many musicians who are Carter’s friends — it was more common in the ‘70s for a candidate to decry the evils of that demon rock music. Carter, on the other hand, befriended musicians and asked them to perform at fund-raisers for his campaign, starting notably with a show by The Allman Brothers Band in Providence, R.I., that kickstarted Carter’s still-fledgling campaign.

Through the primaries, the upstart Carter faced opposition from the establishment Democrats, and Carter often used rock music as his ace in the hole. Campaigning in Oregon, Carter got Jimmy Buffett to perform an acoustic show at a Portland rally. Willie Nelson performed for Carter several times, and so did Johnny Cash and June Carter — with the candidate joking that he and June were distant cousins.

One sign that the music was having an effect: California Gov. Jerry Brown tried to counter, by asking his then-girlfriend Linda Ronstadt to perform in Maryland, along with some of her friends: The Eagles. Political experts say Brown’s efforts were too little, too late.

Once Carter was in office, it was up to First Lady Rosalynn Carter to organize entertainment for White House events. She arranged a series of concerts on the White House lawn, featuring country, folk, gospel and jazz artists — often with legends. (One of the funniest clips in the film shows Dizzy Gillespie and his band performing their hit “Salt Peanuts,” with Carter, once a peanut farmer, doing the odd vocal.)

Alas, director Mary Wharton (a veteran of VH1’s “Behind the Music” series) runs out of observations about music’s influence on the Carter years — even with interview subjects like Nelson and Dylan commenting. So the rest becomes a fairly straight-forward account of the Carter administration, with particular attention to the Camp David accords with Israel’s Menacham Begin and Egypt’s Anwar Sadat, and the Iranian hostage crisis that derailed Carter’s term and opened up Ronald Reagan’s landslide victory in 1980.

The movie also pays rightful attention to Carter’s post-presidential humanitarian work, and interviews more musicians who have met Carter through those efforts — including Bono, Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood.

All of it is quite nice, and some of the musical interludes — like Bono singing “Pride (In the Name of Love)” at an event honoring Carter — are fun to hear, almost as fun as hearing country singer Larry Gatlin quoting Shakespeare (which he does both accurately and in a fitting context, so there). 

The best thing about “Jimmy Carter: Rock & Roll President” is the reminder that it’s possible to have a president with an inner life, with an appreciation for something besides the mirror, and a sense of a bigger world beyond himself. To have a president like that again would be music to America’s ears.

——

‘Jimmy Carter: Rock & Roll President’

★★1/2

Available Friday, September 11, in the Salt Lake Film Society’s virtual cinema, and opening at the Megaplex Gateway (Salt Lake City). Not rated, but probably PG-13 for language and mature themes. Running time: 96 minutes.

Review: 'Mulan,' Disney's live-action adaptation of its animated classic, is an epic drama with a warrior's heart

Director Niki Caro’s “Mulan” isn’t just the best adaptation Disney has done from its animated catalog, but one of the most resonant family dramas in a long time — deftly balancing martial-arts excitement, an epic visual sweep and a moving, personal tale of a young woman channeling her warrior spirit.

Disney, in its strip mining of its animated classics, usually goes one of two ways: Either sticking faithfully close to the originals — like “Beauty and the Beast” and “The Lion King” — or, like “Dumbo,” going so far afield that it’s scarcely the same story.

Read the full review at sltrib.com.

Review: 'The Mole Agent' is a documentary that plays like a sly, and touching, caper comedy

Like a good spy thriller, director Maite Alberti’s documentary “The Mole Agent” works because of some very clever misdirection — going one way when you think it’s going somewhere else — and because the spy in question is so devastatingly charming.

Our hero, Sergio Chamy, is new to the spy game. He’s an 83-year-old widower from Santiago, Chile, who answers an ad in the newspaper. The man who placed the ad, Rómulo Aitken, is looking to hire an elderly man, between 80 and 90, who’s “competent” with technology.

Aitken is a private investigator, and his client wants to know whether her mother, living in a nursing home about 35 miles outside of Santiago, is being ripped off or abused by the staff there. Aitken wants to put someone inside the nursing home who can blend in, and get footage via some sophisticated spy cameras. Sergio fits the bill to be that man on the inside. 

Sergio has to learn the job, and fast. First he has trouble identifying the client’s mother, Sonia — and once he does, he has to be careful not to ask obvious questions. Sergio also has to deal with Rómulo’s impatience and his criticism of Sergio’s daily reports.

While Sergio is investigating, he’s also making fast friends with many of the women at the care facility. They’re a lively bunch of characters, including one who decides instantly that she wants to marry him and another whose mind is so addled that the staff fakes phone falls to her from her (presumably long-dead) mother to calm her down.

At the same time, Alberti’s documentary crew has arranged to go into the home, to capture the residents’ daily life — and the home’s managers have agreed to let the crew follow around their newest resident: Sergio. The crew’s sedate footage, intercut with the jumpy images from Sergio’s spy cameras, make for an oddly exciting depiction of everyday life.

While you’re concerned that Alberti is setting you up for an exposé of the harsh conditions at a nursing home, the real story is much more touching: The day-to-day loneliness of these elderly people, largely ignored by the families who are paying to keep them there. Only once do we see relatives visit someone in the home — Sergio’s daughter, who’s in on the caper, and her family for his 84th birthday. 

Throughout “The Mole Agent,” Alberti gives us tender vignettes of elderly people contemplating the short time they have left in this world. The film also gives us, in Sergio, a graceful reminder that no one is too old to make the most out of life.

——

‘The Mole Agent’

★★★1/2

Available starting Friday, September 4, on the Salt Lake Film Society’s SLFS@Home virtual cinema. Running time: 90 minutes; in Spanish, with subtitles.

Review: Claire Denis' stark, gorgeous 'Beau Travail' returns for a 20th anniversary re-release

Gorgeous and austere, Claire Denis' "Beau Travail" — being re-released for its 20th anniversary — is a fascinating woman's-eye view into one of the Western world's last all-male bastions: The French Foreign Legion.

Cribbing a bit from Herman Melville's Billy Budd, Denis tells of Galoup (Denis Lavant), sitting in a Marseilles apartment recalling the events that got him drummed out of the Legion. Galoup was a master sergeant in the east African nation of Djibouti, where he shaped raw recruits into battle-ready fighting men. He was the favorite of his commandant, Bruno Forestier (Michel Subor), a veteran soldier now content to chew the local narcotic of choice, qat.

But Galoup begins to believe that Forestier's attentions are focused on a new recruit, Gilles Sentain (Grégoire Colin). Galoup's jealousy turns to obsession, and not even his relationship with a local beauty can stop him from pursuing Sentain's destruction — with disastrous results.

Denis' attention to the plot, though, is secondary to her spare, ritualistic depiction of the Foreign Legion's training regimen. Denis has Galoup put these bare-chested young men through their paces, running obstacle courses and fighting in the impossibly blue ocean.

The scenes — which look like a modern-dance performance photographed for an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog — are an idealized look at male bonding at its most regimented. But Galoup longs for that structure and struggles when let loose in the chaotic freedom of civilian life. In those scenes, "Beau Travail" becomes a fascinating meditation on one man's well-governed paradise, and how easily he can let his darker thoughts destroy it.

——

‘Beau Travail’

★★★1/2

Available starting Friday, September 4, on the Salt Lake Film Society’s SLFS@Home virtual cinema. Not rated, but probably R for nudity and suggestions of violence. Running time: 93 minutes; in French, with subtitles.

——

This review originally appeared in The Salt Lake Tribune, on August 11, 2000, when the movie first screened in Salt Lake City.

Review: Christopher Nolan's 'Tenet' is an exciting thriller, but don't fall into the trap of trying to make sense of it

What would a Christopher Nolan movie be if there wasn’t someone onscreen to explain his labyrinthine plots? Audiences — at least the ones willing to brave going into a theater in our virus-plagued times — get their answer with “Tenet,” a maze-like action thriller that’s exciting in the moment, even if it’s gratuitously complicated.

We get our first dollop of extraneous plot exposition when a CIA Black Ops agent — played by John David Washington and referred to in the credits only as “Protagonist” — wakes up on a boat, after he thought he had taken a cyanide pill when captured. No, that was a test, says a shadowy fixer (Martin Donovan), who gives him an assignment to stop a plot to destroy the world. His only tip is a single word, “tenet,” which “will open the right doors, and some of the wrong ones, too.”

Read the full review at sltrib.com.