The rapid-fire fall from grace of Eliot Spitzer, the former of Governor of New York, was indeed sudden and precipitous, and Alex Gibney’s documentary about the man, his flaws, and the many circumstances surrounding his outing is, for the most part, sharp and astute. Client 9 is creatively edited—some might call it scattered, but I really enjoyed the way Gibney bounced around between Spitzer’s strengths (a non-stop motor and thirst for results; a fierce desire to weed out corruption; a passion for equality and transparency) and weaknesses (an overly pugnacious approach with his peers that bordered on flat-out belittling; obtuse stubbornness). Rather than turn Client 9 into a sermon on morals or pigeonholing Spitzer’s idiotic mistake into an overall characterization of the man himself, Gibney shows us that Spitzer’s dalliances with prostitutes were a manifestation of something richer. What, exactly? Rampant insecurity, perhaps spurred by being the son of a highly successful real estate mogul? Self-loathing? A pure example of being power-hungry? We’re given flashes of all these possibilities—Spitzer himself speaks fairly regularly throughout the documentary, and candidly, at that—but I wish Gibney had dug even deeper into this fascinating, unique man. Because in so many ways, Eliot Spitzer sums up what we all suspect most politicians, in some form, are: brilliant but tainted individuals who, throughout their many years in the public spotlight, have accumulated many skeletons in their closets. The question becomes how much their mistakes should be held against them, and Client 9, by highlighting Spitzer’s fearless willingness to take on the biggest banks and Hedge Funds on Wall Street (numerous enemies made along the way be damned) without apologizing for his blunders and flaws, comes tantalizingly close to being a truly all-encompassing take on its subject matter…but doesn’t quite get there. It’s a solid documentary, one well worth seeing, but it could have been even better.

65/100

After a recent rereading of Norton Juster’s astonishingly intellectually astute “The Phantom Tollbooth”—a magical novel that holds up brilliantly over time—I found myself with the urge to seek out a cinematic version, as the story is ripe for the screen. Just one seems to exist: the legendary Chuck Jones’ 1970 film, which is 95% animation and 5% Dennis-the-Menace-esque live action. Well, the live action segments are pretty silly—Butch Patrick as Milo is a bit too hammy for my liking—but the animated portion, which covers the vast swath of the picture, is a surprisingly loyal adaptation that gives us all the wonderful characters that make the book so special. Tock, the Humbug, Azaz, the Mathemagician, DYNNE, the Whetherman, the Which…the list goes on and on, and The Phantom Tollbooth doesn’t shirk on many. The order of events is a bit mixed up, but that’s forgivable given Jones’ attempt to keep things brisk—ironically, The Phantom Tollbooth could easily have taken on an extra 15 minutes of weight without toppling over from bloated runtime syndrome. The animation is clean, with enough pop to do Dictionopolis and company justice. Parents and children alike could do much worse than giving the movie a go, but not until they’ve thoroughly engrossed themselves in the book several times over.

66/100

Sigh. Bridesmaids is yet another entry into the “OMG, I laughed my fucking ass off!” genre of contemporary comedies that I just can’t get into. Actually, Bridesmaids represents a pretty big step up on Knocked Up and The Hangover in my book. There’s a definite genuineness to the proceedings, and it’s well-acted across the board. Kristen Wiig has gotten most of the hype for her lead performance as maid-of-honor Annie Walker —and it’s deserved; she mixes deadpan with emotion very well—but I was equally impressed by “Damages” star Rose Byrne as the lonely-and-overcompensating Helen Harris. The real star, though, is Melissa McCarthy as the mannish, brutish-but-loving Megan. She steals every scene she’s in. And there are some definite very moments. So what’s the problem? Well, first and foremost, anything that has Judd Apatow’s name to it seems to go on far longer than it should. There was absolutely no reason for Bridesmaids to be over two hours long—at 85 minutes, it might have been a sharp, snappy barrel of laughs with some substance to it. But at its actual length, it drags far too often. I like that Bridesmaids aspires to be more than just a dumb comedy, but that doesn’t mean it needs to belabor its point for what feels like eons. Director Paul Feig tries to fill the time by having Annie hit rock bottom time and time again, which eventually starts to get wearisome and irksome. Perhaps I’m being slightly harsh on Bridesmaids, a movie that has its heart in the right place, but overstretched dramedies are a pet peeve of mine, so I just can’t go higher than a barely positive rating.

57/100

For the most part, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II picks up right where Part I, the franchise’s shining beacon on a hill, leaves off. “The Deathly Hallows”, which marks the conclusion of J.K. Rowling’s celebrated series, is a dark, dark book, with plenty of death, sadness, and agony. In both Part I and Part II, director David Yates, who’s grown quite nicely since decent-but-unspectacular stabs at Parts 5 and 6 of the HP saga, properly chooses to tell the story with (mostly) imagery and music. Part I, in particular, captures the fear that grips the land with a surprisingly deft touch. Gone were the frequent goofy exchanges between Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Ron (Rupert Grint), and Hermione (Emma Warson), replaced by ominous lighting and subtle glances. The atmosphere conveys more than dialogue ever could, and it’s a joy to watch, especially for die-hard Potter fans. Part II mostly keeps this pattern up—the whirlwind revelations of Snape’s (Alan Rickman) true motives and loyalties, a highly anticipated emotional powerhouse in the books, will bring tears to any fanboy’s eyes—but Yates occasionally lets himself slip: he can’t quite keep himself from slipping in a groan-inducing “zinger” here and there, and the postscript, which was arguably necessary in the novels, could definitely have been axed from the picture. Still, quibbles aside, it’s a very strong closing act to the cinematic adaptations of the beloved books. I found myself giving fairly weak entries, particularly Chamber of Secrets and Order of the Phoenix, a pass due to my joy in seeing Hogwarts and co. on screen in all its glory…but along with Alfonso Cuarón’s Prisoner of Azkaban, Deathly Hallows represent the finest films of the lot, and should become components of many a holiday marathon viewing session.

70/100

An entertaining, if by-the-numbers, entry to the sword-and-shield genre, Black Death features lots of blood, disease, and the seemingly requisite Sean Bean with flowing locks, grimy beard and noble banter—after his roles in The Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones, and Troy, among others, it’s almost surprising to not find him somewhere in the medieval mix. Anyway, Black Death tells the tale of the deeply religious knight Ulrich (Bean) and the young, naive monk Osmond (Eddie Redmayne): bound together by a common goal, if different motivations, they seek a village supposedly untouched by the deadly bubonic plague, where a fearsome necromancer is rumored to reside. The religious themes are laid on incredibly thickly—subtle, Black Death is not. It puts forth its questions about the power of one’s faith without any pretenses: in a way, you could call Smith’s approach similar to that of a very poor man’s Ingmar Bergman. Like, say, The Seventh Seal, Black Death relies on imagery and lighting to present its allergorical message. Mist, nature, faces in the water; it’s all memorably shot. Obviously, comparing Smith’s film to Bergman’s masterpieces is grossly unfair, but it’s a helpful analogy in terms of directorial approach to the issues (though Black Death is much gorier than anything in Bergman’s canon!). Otherwise, Black Death is pretty by the book—Bean leads a decent, if unspectacular, cast, and Smith’s direction can best be described as competent-but-risk-averse. All in all, this is a solid movie that should appeal to those who like the subject matter, though it won’t inspire anybody that finds the topic dull to reconsider with fresh eyes.

60/100