Viola Davis

  • Stone Cold (2005)

    Stone Cold (2005)

    (In French, On TV, June 2020) As a fan of Robert B. Parker’s crime thriller novels, it was inevitable that I’d eventually make my way to the movie adaptations of his work sooner or later, and Stone Cold has the distinction of featuring a protagonist other than Parker’s Spenser. (Technically, this is the first of nine films in the series but it’s adapted from the fourth novel—don’t worry too much about it.) Paced more slowly than many other police thrillers, it’s focused on Jesse Stone, a grizzled police chief in a small Massachusetts town where nothing usually happens, and who suddenly had to contend with serial killing and the rape of a teenager. For a made-for-TV movie, this one has a rather good pedigree, what with Tom Selleck credibly playing Stone, supported by such well-cast notables as a pre-stardom Viola Davis (as a police officer), Jane Adams (not much of a stretch playing a psycho killer) and Mimi Rogers (with a handful of great scenes as a lawyer who goes after what she wants). Stone Cold is not much of a crime mystery—we already know early on who did it, so it’s best approached as a character study in following a disillusioned, possibly depressive man at the end of his rope. The atmosphere of a small seaside town is amiably portrayed, and the film becomes a somewhat comfortable experience, more remarkable for the ride than the destination.

  • Widows (2018)

    Widows (2018)

    (On Cable TV, July 2019) At first glance, it felt strange to have acclaimed writer-director Steve MacQueen tackle a seemingly straightforward thriller project—his movies so far aimed at more mainstream dramatic sensibilities. But “let’s wait and see” is the right kind of attitude in response to such news, and from the get-go Widows proves that MacQueen certainly know what he’s doing. Delivering on thrills while digging far deeper in its characters than most genre films, Widows tackles the heist genre with a desperate urgency for its soon-to-be-destitute characters, delivering car chases and suspense while offering a plot where a surprising number of characters aren’t always what they seem. Genre expectations are frequently dashed, whether we’re shown a municipal race where white-heir vs. black-activist isn’t a straightforward choice, where initial character impressions are misleading, and where we’re offered quite a different heist team than usual. Comparisons with Ocean’s Eight are instructive, in that Widows doesn’t think heists are comic, goes for straight hard cash rather than fancy jewelry and spends much of its time in preparation rather than execution. The ridiculously talented ensemble cast is wondrous enough—Viola Davis is ferocious here, sometimes even sexy; Colin Farrell turns in a nicely nuanced portrait that goes beyond that of an antagonist the audience is primed to hate; Robert Duvall is remarkable in three short scenes; Elizabeth Debicki is a revelation (she’s a familiar face, but never used as well as here); Michelle Rodriguez fulfills some of the promise she’s had as a dramatic actress; Liam Neeson turns in an inversion of his usual action hero roles; and Daniel Kaluuya makes for a fearsome antagonist. But the MVP here remains MacQueen, who sets up some shots so beautifully that you only realize what they mean at the end of them, with long soaring camera takes and an ability to deliver exciting action sequences like a seasoned action professional. Widows is a complete and satisfying package for crime fiction fans—a socially relevant tale of heist and personal growth, using disfavoured and marginalized heroes to heighten the stakes beyond what they usually are. There’s a place for both the comic Ocean’s series of movies and for Widows, but since there’s been a death of Widows-like films lately, this one is a welcome sight.

  • Fences (2016)

    Fences (2016)

    (Netflix Streaming, August 2018) It’s always interesting to see what actors with strong screen personas choose to take on when they direct a movie. Here we have Denzel Washington, of the old-school stoic tough-love tradition, picking the historical drama play Fences as his inspiration for his third outing as director. As we may guess, it’s a strong actor-driven project exploring themes of black experiences in urban America, facing prejudice and individual failings along the way. Washington himself gets to play a hard-headed patriarch—but certainly not a perfect one. Actors such as Viola Davis and Jovan Adepo have good roles here, with family conflict building up as a dramatic force throughout the film. While Fences is not particularly strong on sheer cinematic qualities, the acting is, as one expects, very good—with many of the players, including Washington and Davis, reprising award-winning performances from a 2010 theatrical revival. It’s not a spectacular nor overly memorable film, but it’s solid, thematically successful and a wonderful capture of a play, a time and place and a certain hard-fought working-class attitude. It certainly does much to bolster Washington’s credentials as a surprisingly effective voice for a certain segment of the African-American community, not only by what he chooses to play, but also what to bring to the screens.

  • Doubt (2008)

    Doubt (2008)

    (On Cable TV, January 2017) I rarely think that movies are worth seeing solely for acting talent, but Doubt is an obvious exception, even more so now than when it was released. Meryl Streep is a national treasure, of course, and Viola Davis has always been a solid performer, but now that Philip Seymour Hoffman is gone and that Amy Adams has become a megastar, Doubt looks dangerously top-heavy with an incredibly strong cast. As befits a play brought to the screen (director John Patrick Shanley adapting his own award-winning work), the performers are the key to a dialogue-heavy drama. Every four of the leads got Oscar nominations, even Davis for a mere two scenes. Dealing with troubling allegations of abuses and what happens when beliefs (in God, in goodness, in guilt) clash together, Doubt is a drama in the purest sense, uncluttered by physicality or artifices—it could be a radio play if it tried. Visually, the film blandly re-creates a 1960s Catholic school, but the point is elsewhere. It’s certainly not an action film, but you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for a thriller when it reaches fever pitch and truly sparks with dramatic conflict. The last line is merciless in offering no comfort, moral support or resolution. This is not a film that ends as much as it lingers.

  • The Help (2011)

    The Help (2011)

    (On Cable TV, March 2013) There’s a small stroke of genius in the way The Help takes a big social issue such as culturally-ingrained racism and looks at it from a very domestic perspective.  Isn’t it a very real human tragedy to think that poor black mothers spent more time raising privileged white children than their own kids, helping perpetuate the established order?  Doesn’t it drive the point home more effectively than broad social demonstrations?  Isn’t Bryce Dallas Howard simply repulsive as the evil-in-a-sundress homemaker who considers “the help” as nothing more than disposable property?  The Help is noteworthy in that it’s a female-driven film that managed to break the box-office: a welcome change of pace from the usual bang-bang entertainment that drives summer blockbuster crowds.  A large part of this success has to be attributed to the way the film genially approaches its subject: Nearly all of the lead cast is female, and makes no apologies in the way it presents itself as a southern dramatic comedy of manners.  While the film may earn a few knocks for presenting racism from a white perspective (as in: “Here’s the white girl to help those poor black people tell their story of woe”), there’s no doubt that outspoken matrons Octavia Spencer and Viola Davis earn the spotlight away from southern belles Emma Stone and Jessica Chastain.  While younger male viewers may not appreciate the kind of storytelling that The Help is built on, it’s easy to see that the film is effective at what it does, and that the emotional weight of the film goes beyond its older and wiser target audience.  As a result, The Help manages some serious cross-over impact, charming even audiences outside its marketing category.  It’s sweet without being too cloying, and it’s got a few memorable stories in its bag of folk tales.  It’s surprisingly effective at discussing the emotional side of child-rearing, and wrings some real emotion from its premise.  The soundtrack is occasionally terrific, and the sense of southern culture (tempered by the real recognition of its racist enablement) is spectacular.  It’s well worth a look, even for viewers who may not feel as if they material calls to them.