A House of Dynamite, has arrived at Netflix, courtesy of director Kathryn Bigelow (Academy Award winner for The Hurt Locker) and it is… as one might well expect from this talented director… a well-made thriller; a “whodunit” in the world of apocalyptic tales… a mystery in that no one in our nation’s defense system is able to discern which one of our ever-increasing list of enemies has precipitated this doomsday scenario.
The metaphor that explains the title is spoken near the end of the film “… everyone acts as if it is safe living in a house of dynamite simply because it hasn’t exploded yet.”
Do we need another film that explores that theme? I am gonna guess yes since I cannot remember when I last felt a sense of security about our interactions with other nations.
Everyone is good in the movie but I would single out Idris Elba who plays the President of the United States for his performance. In fairness to his fellow actors, Elba’s character is given the broadest range as we see him as a true politician and a loving husband before he gets the awful news of an imminent atomic attack.
And how is that possible? How is it that the President of the United States of America is among the last to learn of all that is going on? That is where filmmaker Bigelow challenges her audience. With hardly any warning that the timeline has changed and that the part of the story now seen on screen takes place hours before its predecessor, the director artfully moves her story along.
There is nothing so mundane as a message on the screen, or a clock on the wall. The decision to so subtly introduce an achronological narrative may prove confusing to some… many might even say “most” … but in retrospect there are clues along the way that this is how this powerful story is to be presented. Bigalow demands as well as commands your attention. Whatever the complaints… I have also heard folks questioning the film’s ending… the movie does work. It serves as an important reminder that while we are not truly safe in our house of dynamite, we can be secure in the knowledge that Ms. Bigelow’s Oscar nomination for direction of a motion picture is all but guaranteed.
Another current motion picture now streaming on Netflix is something else altogether. The film is Jay Kelly, starring George Clooney and Adam Sandler. I watched it twice. Not because I liked it, but because I could not believe… given all the hype I had heard about the film… that the movie could be such a bore.
Had I unwittingly dozed through some critical parts? Did I somehow miss an underlying subtle theme? Having just turned 88 years of age it is, I think, understandable that I might wonder about such possibilities.
As a fella who enjoys writing commentaries about films and such, I was also concerned about my built-in bias. I had avoided the movie for as long as I felt I could, simply because Adam Sandler was in it.
(A moment is herein provided for readers to take a pause and think of performers they simply cannot stand to watch.)
My first was Dorothy Malone. Trust me, you would have had to have been around in the 1940s and 50s to appreciate that reference. Next for me was Karen Black in the1970s. Twenty-some years later, after two decades sans any noted bias, Adam Sandler made his debut on Saturday Night Live and I stopped watching the late-night series until he was fired in 1995.
Having pretty much avoided anything in which Sandler appeared for almost thirty years, it was not easy for me to contemplate watching a movie in which he co-starred with anyone… not even George Clooney… but I persevered. And you know, Sandler wasn’t half bad. I understand he received some rave reviews (probably from folks who were grateful he did not play his usual juvenile idiot). Whatever the reason, this sub-standard movie is not his fault. While being generous, I will not blame George Clooney either. Who then gets the dubious credit for this mediocrity?
Noah Baumbach and Emily Mortimer wrote the screenplay and Baumbach was also its “director.”
Baumbach spent 132 minutes exploring his lead character’s angst as if Fellini had never made 8 ½, or Birdman had not already picked up four Academy Awards for a similar theme. It would appear Baumbach would be surprised to learn of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, or Bergman’s Wild Strawberries, or even Shakespeare’s King Lear.
Of course, it is perfectly appropriate to explore or even merely revisit a theme such as this, but one would hope that a fresh look at the subject of a man looking back over the wreckage of his life would be able to add something… anything… to the basic idea.
Filmmaker Baumbach? He drones for 132 minutes. And me? Other than the unregainable loss of those 264 minutes was the disbelief that so much energy had been invested in such tripe that I watched it again to see what I missed in that first screening.
Nothing.
Betty Comden and Adolph Green would say it best in Wonderful Town, “…what a waste of money and time.”
* * *
REFLECTION
There is something a little intimidating about sitting down to compose a review on a rather large/potentially important motion picture that has received little or no “buzz” from other movie commentators or even much of a nod from the ubiquitous gang at “Rotten Tomatoes.”
The motion picture Nuremberg is such an event. Even with an all-too-ready concession that the movie fails in ways that I could only wish it did not, there is still an abundance of terrific stuff built into this effort to qualify this historical drama as one of (if not) the best movies of the year.
In today’s world of filmed entertainment, perhaps this film would have been a better presentation as a six-to-eight-hour mini-series. There is certainly enough story for that and I, for one, felt the two and a half hours of the film’s running time simply flew by.
Director James Vanderbilt’s work was solid and often inspired. I found that I could only wish that screenwriter Vanderbilt’s efforts were as worthy as those of his alter ego behind the camera.
The script was good in so many ways, but only occasionally did it approach greatness and too often was too thin … too convenient… too much of the time.
Russell Crowe as Hermann Goring gives a perfect performance… one, for which, I am sure, he will be recognized by his peers. Rami Malek, as US Army psychiatrist Douglas Kelley, is almost always interesting (Bohemian Rhapsody, Mr. Robot), but in some ways miscast in this role. Michael Shannon gives his usual solid performance of an American stoic, and Leo Woodall has a nice scene toward the movie’s end.
The mini-knock on Vanderbilt’s screenplay should be qualified because although much of this historical monument was given short shrift, the writer did not miss many opportunities at giving today’s audience the chance to make comparisons of the politics of mid-20th century fascism and what is currently going on in the 2020s.
In many ways, Nuremberg is an old-fashioned movie. It is professionalism personified by every craft involved in the making of such a motion picture. It reminded me of a time when more than one of these movies came along on an annual basis.
Sadly, that is not so true these days.
And, as the calendar on my word processor reminds me, these days of 2025 are soon ending.
As of now, the only other movie I can reference with reverence is Blue Moon, the setting of which brings me to the world of theatre. In no particular order, the best of what I have seen in the world of entertainment include three tiny surprises on Broadway: the very campy, Oh, Mary, the very surprising to me, Dead Outlaw, and the incredibly brilliant, Maybe Happy Ending. Lest it go unmentioned, I must also reference the incredible staging of The Picture of Dorian Gray, which included the Tony Award winning performance of Ms. Sarah Snook.
Television… mostly in the series format… is what continued to float my boat. The Diplomat’slatest season, the vintage classic Gilmore Girls, Landman… and here I must pause to say that this year there has been no better writer of dialogue than Taylor Sheridan and no better actor at delivering a line than Billy Bob Thornton. In Landman, these two come together and it is a wow.
The Studio on Apple TV is toward the bottom of my best of 2025 list but it did make the cut… as did season four of The Morning Show although it was a drop off from the previous season number three. Perhaps seeing some very familiar scenes of the industry I write about in my upcoming autobiography, Before and After Cagney & Lacey; Memoir of a Hollywood Career from Mailroom to TV Maven was an influence.
Finalizing that book could also have led to my getting very hung up on a few other vintage shows during the year, namely Younger, Bunheads and Homeland… which I could watch and praise with equal enthusiasm every single year.
Some favorable comments, with a caveat or two, will be forthcoming in the NewYear about A House of Dynamite from director Kathryn Bigelow along with such highly touted Best Motion Picture entries as One Battle After Another, Hamnet, Sinners, Marty Supreme, and Bugonia.
Finally, near the top of the year’s best was the limited series, Adolescence. Every actor was perfect and the direction was nothing short of brilliant. Exceedingly rare anytime but particularly so in the year 2025.
Happy Holidays to all with a look-forward to 2026.
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