David O. Russell continues establishing himself as a top name in mainstream prestige fare with Joy, albeit in a different direction compared to his last three features. The Fighter, Silver Linings Playbook and American Hustle showed off Russell’s strengths when it came to working with ensembles, whereas Joy prefers to keep its focus on one character. That means a more streamlined narrative compared to, say, American Hustle, although Russell’s own formula since his career’s resurgence is still here, even if it doesn’t cast as wide of a net. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Joy is a rather simple and entertaining film, a biopic of sorts that works best when seen as a strange, unique and slightly true success story.

In a clear case of not fixing what isn’t broken, Russell works with Jennifer Lawrence yet again in her biggest role for him to date. Inspired by the true story of Joy Mangano, inventor of the Miracle Mop and other successful household items, the film starts with Joy (Lawrence) bearing the burden of her needy family. Joy’s mother Terry (Virginia Madsen) stays in bed all day watching soap operas, and her ex-husband Tony (Edgar Ramirez) lives in the basement. Joy’s grandmother Mimi (Diane Ladd) takes care of Joy and Tony’s two children while she works whatever jobs she can to pay the bills, including helping out the business run by her father Rudy (Robert De Niro) and half-sister Peggy (Elisabeth Rohm). On top of all this, Joy can’t shake her own disappointment in not pursuing her dreams of inventing.

It’s only when Rudy starts dating the wealthy Trudy (Isabella Rossellini) that Joy seizes on the opportunity to see her idea of the Miracle Mop through. It’s in this early section of the film that Russell leans on the familial elements that made The Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook so successful. Joy’s family oscillates between being a support and a weight for her, with their individual idiosyncrasies either providing a funny narrative detour or an obstacle to Joy achieving her goals. Russell sometimes likes to start a new scene with only Joy before bringing in her family to overpower the proceedings (at one point Russell frames a meeting between Joy and Trudy as a one-on-one before revealing her friends and family surrounding them in the same room). Russell never goes so far as to paint Joy’s immediate family as villains in the story, understanding the complexities of blood relations. For instance: when Joy complains about needing a good sleep, her family’s response is to feed her a bottle of children’s cough syrup while she lays down on the stairs. They’re not malicious people so much as their best intentions do more harm than good.

The specificity of Joy’s family and experiences goes a long way to helping Russell establish that Joy should not be taken as some sort of symbol for the American dream in action. At first blush, Mangano’s tale does come across as an ideal example of working hard to make one’s own success, but in this film’s reality (Russell embellishes a lot of facts, and not enough is publicly known about Mangano to know just how accurate some of the film’s events are) it’s too bizarre and specific to be taken that way. It’s only when Joy winds up at QVC that a station executive (Bradley Cooper, acting like Russell called him in as a favour to take advantage of his and Lawrence’s on-screen chemistry) starts hammering home the virtues of America as a land of opportunity. The fact that these themes get delivered around artificial sets within giant, empty spaces is probably not a coincidence.

If anything, Russell’s film is more of a celebration of individual resolve. Joy faces constant rejection over her ideas, but she never doubts her own instincts about her mop having the potential to be successful. Russell’s script vindicates Joy through a simple and clever move: the narrative always advances because of a decision Joy makes on her own. Her decision to use Trudy as an investor gets the mop made, her decision to go on TV to sell the Miracle Mop herself gets people to buy it in record numbers, and in the film’s anticlimactic final act—an attempt at a climactic confrontation that fizzles out as quickly as it’s introduced—Joy’s acting entirely on her own. Still, watching Lawrence (who turns in another great performance, although her youth gets the best of her in a clunky flash forward) seize control of her dreams from the hands of those trying to pilfer off of them is fun to watch, and Russell’s unwavering commitment to highlighting her self-earned achievements make it all the more effective.

It was 24 years ago that Kathryn Bigelow‘s Point Break helped cement the rise of the future Oscar-winning director (for The Hurt Locker). The film starred a young Keanu Reeves playing it straight and tough after hamming it up for a few years as the time traveling goof Ted Logan and a long-haired Patrick Swayze as the surfer he was born to inhabit. All in all it’s a good crime flick—though today certain things ring a bit ridiculously: Reeves’ character being named Johnny Utah, the whole “we steal so we can surf” motivation–but it wasn’t ever a mega hit. Of course, to Warner Bros. none of that seems to matter. What matters is name recognition. So, later this year the world will get a glossy and very expensive new Point Break.

The remake has at least been updated a bit—hopefully enough to justify the remake. Point Break 2015 finds Johnny Utah (Luke Bracey) infiltrating a team of extreme sports athletes who he suspects of being behind a string of fancy corporate heists (the big changes here being the international setting and that they are no longer just bank robbers).

The film is directed by Ericson Core (Invincible), who also acts as his own cinematographer. Bracey—a mostly untested newcomer, his biggest credit so far being G.I. Joe: Retaliation—is joined by Edgar Ramirez (The Counselor, Deliver Us From Evil) as Bodhi the baddie. Support is given by Teresa Palmer, Ray Winstone, Delroy Lindo.

The big question here is whether anyone cares. It’s been a while since anyone has taken Point Break seriously, and this one looks to be pretty self-serious and unaware. Either way, we’ll try to stay optimistic—it’s always nice to be surprised. Point Break surfs into theaters Christmas day. Check out the first trailer below.

The Bronx is turned into a funhouse of jump scares and buddy cop banter in Deliver Us From Evil, a loose adaptation of Beware the Night by Ralph Sarchie, a former NYPD detective who left the force to enter the creepy world of demonology. Fans of the exorcism subgenre of horror will no doubt get what they came for in the film’s conclusion, one of the most overblown, silliest exorcism scenes in movies, but the derivative cheap thrills leading up to it barely warrant the wait.

The scare-fest comes to us from Sinister director Scott Derrickson and stars Eric Bana as Sarchie, a badass cop who has a “heavy hand” when dealing with criminals, has always been haunted by the gruesome crimes he deals with on the streets. But lately, he’s been experiencing flashes of deathly visions and strange noises no one else can hear, haunting him more literally. The “true story” element lends little authenticity to the terror, since the film is so chockfull of genre tropes you’ll be struck more by its resemblance to similar hokey horror romps than its resemblance to real life.

Sarchie’s visions (represented by quick flashes of disgusting things, the lamest kind of scare tactic) stem from an ancient evil brought to the Bronx from Iraq by a group of soldiers who discover evil looking Latin inscriptions in a cave, as is seen in the film’s prologue. Sarchie teams up with his wisecracking, knife-savvy partner (Joel McHale) and a boozer priest with a sordid past and paranormal experience (Edgar Ramirez) to take down Santino (Sean Harris), the leader of the soldiers who is now spreading his dark juju throughout the city under the guise of a friendly painting company.

From the eerily quiet, moonlit Bronx Zoo to dark, messy apartments with cat carcasses splayed out on the wall, Sarchie and his buddies investigate the developing mystery by searching the spookiest spots in the city, flashlights and guns at the ready. The barrage of occult symbolism, possessed stuffed animals, possessed real animals, and possessed human beings is standard fare, and it’s all decent fun. Prolonged silence punctuated by a loud noise and terrible sight, the most classic horror tool, is utilized well by Derrickson, who clearly did his homework in Scary Movies 101. The atmosphere is menacing and the scares, while a bit overly “jumpy”, are potent, but fans of the genre will find little novelty here aside from Derrickson using music from The Doors to give otherwise clichéd sequences a thin veil of originality.

At first, Sarchie is skeptical, quick to believe that he’s losing his mind rather than acknowledge the presence of a supernatural power. But with his visions become more vivid and disturbing, he has a hear-to-heart with the priest that opens his eyes to the possibility that throughout his life of fighting crime, he’s only been dealing with “secondary evil”, and that what threatens him now is a “primary evil” that exists beyond our realm of reality. Sarchie becomes so entangled with his ghostbusting work that he neglects his wife (Olivia Munn) and young daughter, who predictably become the targets of big bad Santino.

Bana, always a class act, plays Sarchie with grit and passion, wearing a convincing New York accent to boot.  McHale and Ramirez have less to work with, though the roles accentuate their strengths as actors well. The film’s bloated final exorcism, which takes place in a police interrogation room that gets torn to bits by supernatural forces, is rightly bonkers but overstays its welcome due to a formulaic presentation consisting of odd contortions, splitting skin, oozing blood, and other cheesy CG effects. Derrickson fails to convince us that his film is anything more than a run-of-the-mill creep show, but at the very least it delivers scares aplenty.

Deliver Us From Evil trailer

As a vast majority of the world tuned in to the World Cup Sunday, I was treated to an equally lively South American production. Libertador, or The Liberator, is a large-scale saga portraying the early years and successful liberation campaign of Simón Bolívar. Known as the key player in Latin America’s quest for independence from the Spanish Empire, the film begins at the end. Bolívar is being hunted down by those who would rather see the hard-won independent nations of Gran Colombia separated into their own governing parts and the quickest way to form their own order is by assassinating Gran Colombia’s legendary leader. Bolívar runs from his pursuers as the film transports us back years before this moment, where a younger Bolívar is in Spain and asked to play tennis with a young Prince Ferdinand. And he doesn’t lose well.

Bolívar, born to wealth, is well-traveled and debonaire, so when he begins a flirtation with María Teresa, a young woman at the court, it’s unsurprising that he arrives back in Venezuela with her as his wife. The film spends a fair amount of time on what was a relatively short amount of Bolívar’s life before he began his campaign, director Alberto Arvelo attempting to provide the spark of Bolívar’s passion. In the short amount of time he had with his wife before her untimely death and his spiral of grief after, the film shows a man who must choose where to direct the powerful devotion he has as the land of his birth struggles against oppression.

Édgar Ramírez (The Bourne Ultimatum, Domino) carries the heavy burden of portraying such a well-known and well-debated historical figure with absolute precision and a charismatic performance. While the film has much ground to cover, the struggle for autonomy played out over the course of almost 20 years, it picks up steam once Bolívar gets to the heart of the campaign, rallying the divided people of such a huge continent into an organized army. It slows somewhat as it delves into the political aspect of Bolívar’s tenure, his time as President and Dictator, but paints the picture of a man who fought his entire life with the interest of his people always at the forefront of his actions. There are some liberties taken with how Bolívar may have died, which is debated, and the film opts for glorifying him rather than erring on the side of historical documentation. Which it also does in downplaying his dissidents’ complaints about some of his political decisions.

Excellent supporting roles abound, especially Erich Wildpret (The Zero Hour) as Bolívar’s right-hand man Antonio José de Sucre and Iwan Rheon (Game of Thrones, Misfits) as Daniel O’Leary, one of the Irish who came to aid the Venezuelans in their efforts. The score, by beloved Los Angeles Philharmonic director Gustavo Dudamel, reflects the spirit of those fighting on-screen with heavy drums and showcases the beautiful tradition of music based in South America. Cinematographer Xavi Giménez expertly manages the scope of multiple battle scenes, and highlights the varied landscapes of South America, from tropical beaches to the tip of the Andes, with beautiful detail.

The length of a film could never be enough to summate the life of so accomplished a man. So there’s no way not to feel somewhat short-changed when the film ends. But Libertador still earns its place easily among other war and revolution behemoths like Braveheart or Saving Private Ryan. The film is an enjoyable slice of narrative history about a man whose name in history is written beside Cromwell, Napoleon, and Washington, and is finally getting cinematic recognition worthy of his legacy.

I knew half way through the first part of the excellent film Carlos, that it would be the best film I would see in 2010. Carlos is at the apex of filmmaking, a true juggernaut of a film. It commands your attention for over 5 hours and is never boring. Edgar Ramirez gives a standout leading performance as The Jackal and he is on screen for nearly every second of the epic film. All the weight of the material is on him and carries it with ease. Which is why I think Carlos is the best film of 2010.

Édgar Ramírez stars as Carlos, aka The Jackal. The film is inspired by the real life terrorist codenamed The Jackal. A few films have been inspired by his escapades throughout Europe in the 70’s and 80’s. The great 70’s film, The Day of the Jackal, and the lame brain 90’s flick, The Jackal, with Bruce Willis. But this here is the real deal. This is one hell of a film.

Starting in the early 70’s, Carlos rips through Europe at a breakneck speed showing The Jackal as he literally shoots his way through the streets of Vienna, London, Damascus, Munich and Paris. He was everywhere installing fear into those whom opposed him. The film continues through the 80’s as he still fights for his cause and finally ends in the early 90’s with his apprehension.

Carlos was born in Venezuela but was educated in the USSR. At a young age he became influenced by Ernesto “Che” Guevara’s beliefs. But as time grew and the more and more he threatened Europe, Carlos went on one big ego trip as his fight against Europe became more about his thirst for power than his actual beliefs.

The film does such a great job of giving the viewer clear direction throughout about dates, locations, and people so we are never confused. Like I pointed out earlier, Carlos takes place in a dozen different countries and features nearly the same amount of different languages spoken in the film. But the French director Oliver Assayas does a spectacular job that keeps everything in focus.

One of the best, if not the best, scene of the film lasts for nearly 2 hours. Yes, one scene last for 2 hours of the film. It features Carlos and his cohorts raiding the OPEC headquarters in Vienna, Austria. They take hostages, make their demands, shoot up the place and finally make a grand escape on a massive jet to the Middle East. The whole thing is a wonder of smart directing and editing and is completely exhilarating.

If you’ve seen Steven Spielberg’s highly underrated and fantastic Munich, I’ll break it down like this. There are 3 parts to Munich. The first part of the film sets up Eric Bana’s mission. Then there is the whole middle section of the film where Bana and his crew rip Europe apart as they look for the terrorists responsible for killing Israeli athletes at the 1972 Olympics. Bombing, shooting doing anything they need to do for revenge. The final part of Munich is the aftermath of Bana’s mission. Carlos is 5 and a half hours of the middle section of Munich. It’s all action and it’s done insanely well.

I personally am not a huge fan of action films, but this film does it so well and is so smart about it. The people, the locations are all authentic. Everything about the film is top notch, from the costumes to the production design. Carols feels like it was made in that era and evokes a feeling of nostalgia for people like me who love films from the 70’s. It feels like you are in Europe behind Carlos’ back with him as he does work.

It’s always refreshing to see something different. Is Carlos long? Yes. But the pacing is so well done and so interesting and fascinating that you do not care. What I did with the film was watched it over 3 nights. Part 1 one night, part 2 the second night and the third on the final night. To make it easier Netflix actually has it in 3 parts. So do yourself a favor and watch the best film of the year about the man who hijacked the world.