“Nine Perfect Strangers”–A Hot Mess­­­­­­­

Nine Perfect Strangers is based on the Liane Moriarty novel by the same name. Starring Nicole Kidman as Masha, a spiritual therapist, she  is reputed to heal all wounds of her wealthy  clients at her wellness retreat, Tranquillum.

Following closely after the release of White Lotus (see my August 17, 2021 review), the same territory is explored:  why do uber-rich white people seem so unhappy? There is the damaged novelist (Melissa McCarthy) who just can’t trust anyone.  Another has a virulent past of drug addiction (the superb Bobby  Cannavale as a physically damaged athlete) ,Another couple (played by Michael Shannon and Addie Keddie) and their adult daughter grieve over the death of their son,  Young marrieds   provide the much-desired mystery tension.   An investigative reporter and  a fragile divorcee ( Luke Evans and Regina Hall) round out the group.  Who is going to die?

Nine Perfect Strangers   could have been so much more.  Purportedly about the self-help movement and its tendencies to be a scam preying on the wounded affluent, this series could have satirized the “perfect strangers”  wounds, their slights and neuroses.  The staff who cater to their clientele’s demands, no matter how unreasonable, and to their boss, Masha, are angry and servile at the same time,  Again channeling White Lotus.  More of their anger and their dreams were sorely needed.

And let’s look at Masha.  A Russian emigre and highly successful former corporate CEO,  Masha suffers from multiple traumatic  experiences which we see in flashbacks.  Trauma is the impetus for leaving her adrenaline-pumped life for the tranquil retreat she builds for those like herself: sufferers who need and want to move on.  Nicole Kidman seems drugged, coated with a Russian accent so annoying it is difficult to decipher what she is saying.  Such a travesty of a role for a great actress.  What was she thinking?

Only Melissa McCarthy, as the demoralized author of romance novels, is watchable.  In every scene she is commanding. The viewer feels motivated to hang in there and not reach for the remote.  But even she cannot save Nine Perfect Strangers from its abject imperfections.  If you watch this to the conclusion of the ten episodes, you are likely to raise the same question I asked myself:  “Why did I waste my time watching this?”

Availability:  Hulu

The Shape of Water–E.T. Meets Aqua Man

 

The Shape of Water

The Shape of Water (2018  Academy Award for Best Picture) is written and directed by the Mexican wunderkind, Guillermo del Toro (of “Pan’s Labyrinth”). Part-fantasy, part-political commentary, and part-love story, “The Shape of Water” is difficult to categorize.   The Shape of Water, an adult fairy tale of sorts, is both deeply familiar and suggests magical realism.

The opening scene, an aquatic beneath-the-sea dreamscape, leads us into a floating world of teal green water, gliding past chairs, lamps and tables, all swirling in the interior of the flooded apartment of Eliza, a mute janitor (the awesome Sally Hawkins), who lives a very spartan and lonely life.  The Shape of Water

Set during the Cold War, an alien aqueous creature worshipped as a god in the Amazon, has been captured for weapons research and is subsequently mistreated in a top-secret military research lab in a race against Russian scientists. The addition of a sensitive Russian biologist, Dr. Hoffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg of “Call Me By Your Name”,”The Post” and “Fargo”) , who recognizes the humanity of the amphibious anomaly, gives a surprising twist to the Cold War plot.

In The Shape of Waterthe damage is more psychological than physical.  Eliza’s face has been inexplicably burned some time in her past. Both she and the underwater sea creature, as well as her friends, are outcasts in a cruel, unforgiving world. “The others” — those with ethnic, racial and class differences, gays, the disabled, communists— are outsiders and misfits like Aqua Man. The way those “others” are woven together is a minor wonder and a parable for resisting authoritarianism and valuing diversity.

Because of her muteness, Elisa is looked at by others as something less than fully human, a type of alien herself. Her interest in the Aqua Man evolves into a deeply empathetic relationship, stirred less by curiosity than by recognition and identification with his plight. Think ET–an innocent befriending an alien.

Her neighbor Giles (in a wonderful performance by Richard Jenkins), a gay struggling aging artist , and Zelda (a sometimes hilarious Octavia Spencer), her co-worker on the cleaning crew, are her only social connections. Until she meets the Amazon amphibian.

Scientists in lab coats and military officers march officiously past their cleaning carts, rendering Elisa and her friend Zelda invisible at best and insulted more than occasionally. Richard Strickland (an always astonishing Michael Shannon), who is a government official in charge of the research project, carries an electric cattle prod, urinates in front of Eliza and Zelda, and genuinely enjoys sadism towards the Aqua Man. Now who is the monster, the dangerous alien?

Tension builds as one of the Russian research scientists is ordered to assassinate the amphibious creature before the Americans do. Here The Shape of Water pivots from a spy thriller with an ET vibe to a hodge-podge of 1940’s dance musicals (“La La Land” anyone?) and old film clips of musical numbers starring Shirley Temple, Betty Grable, Carmen Miranda and the Glenn Miller Orchestra among others. What happened to the main story? This not only didn’t hold this viewer’s attention but was a major disconnect.

Sadly, Shape of Water does not represent storytelling at its best. The drama is derivative of ET, and while water is ever changing in its shapelessness, only Elisa brings enough form and feeling to allow us to disavow the plot holes, offkilter sidetracking, and lack of backstory to understand some of the other major characters’ flaws.

Nonetheless, this is a career high for Sally Hawkins, who must   communicate emotion with sheer physicality, since she plays a mute woman. And her performance is extraordinary.

Worth watching for Sally Hawkins and her colleagues Octavia Spencer, Michael Shannon, and Richard Jenkins. Not so much for the story!

“99 Homes”—And the Other One Percent

 

99 Homes

It is no longer possible to have a serious discussion about poverty and the income gap without having a serious discussion about housing. “99 Homes” dramatizes this tragic social ill. [Last week’s publication of Evicted by Matthew Desmond, a Harvard sociologist, demonstrates through statistics how eviction feeds the cycle of poverty.]

In this country the human cost and callous treatment of those evicted is not publicized until now. “99Homes” is a vivid portrayal of the humiliation, greed, and perversion of the legal system which allows eviction without recourse or appeal. Directed by newcomer Ramin Bahrani (producer of “Man Push Cart”), “99 Homes” opens with a scene of the pending eviction of unpaid and now a recently unemployed construction worker Dennis Nash (the gifted Andrew Garfield).   The fabulously wealthy but ruthless real-estate dealer, Rick Carver (Michael Shannon), fully realizes the dangers of eviction. The desperate, angry and now homeless residents he deals with have lost everything and therefore have nothing to lose. Soon jobless Dennis Nash unexpectedly ends up working for Carver as a server of eviction notices himself. What choice does he have—homelessness or serving the agent responsible for his situation?

As the working middle class and poor sometimes pay as much as 88% of their take home pay for their housing, we understand the vulnerability, anger, and life-threatening behavior they resort to in moments of utter hopelessness. Clear-eyed and nonjudgmental in tone, “99 Homes” portrays the desperation and panic of people who are rendered homeless in the blink of an eye for failure to pay a few months’ mortgage or rent. “99 Homes” highlights the vulnerability of single mothers, the elderly, and people of color. There are no easy answers.