Tag Archives: C+

GOLDA

Producers: Michael Kuhn, Nicholas Martin and Jane Hooks  Director: Guy Nattiv   Screenplay: Nicholas Martin   Cast: Helen Mirren, Camille Cottin, Lior Ashkenazi, Rami Heuberger, Rotem Keinan, Dvir Benedek, Elie Piercy, Henry Goodman, Ed Stoppard, Dominic Mafham, Ohad Knoller and Liev Schreiber Distributor: Bleecker Street

Grade: C+

The difference is almost surreal: Nicholas Martin wrote the screenplay for 2016’s “Florence Foster Jenkins,” starring Meryl Streep as the determined if talent-free diva.  He returns after seven years with a tale about another remarkable woman, the first—and until now only—female prime minister of Israel, starring another of the screen’s most formidable actresses, Helen Mirren.  But “Golda” couldn’t be more different from the earlier picture, as dark, drab and dour as “Jenkins” was charming, colorful and funny.

The film, directed by Guy Nattiv (2019’s “Skin”), doesn’t attempt to cover, even cursorily, Golda Meir’s long political career.  Instead it focuses on just a few weeks in her five-year tenure as Prime Minister—the period of the Yom Kippur War (October 5-25, 1973).  It’s presented as a flashback from the work of a post-war investigative committee headed by Chief Justice Shimon Agranat (Henry Goodman) looking into the events. 

It begins with Meir’s testimony about warnings from Mossad Head Zvi Zamir (Rotem Keinan) of an impending coordinated attack from the north by Syria and south by Egypt, disbelief on the part of her cabinet—most notably Defense Minister Moshe Dayan (Rami Heuberger)—and Meir’s decision to order a partial mobilization that proves insufficient when the surprise assault occurs, resulting in a near-defeat for Israel.  But recovery and counter-offensive come as a result of the level-headed action of Meir and Chief of Staff David “Dado” Elazar (Lior Ashkenazi) and the daredevil inclinations of Ariel Sharon (Ohad Knoller) on the ground.

Combining recreations of cabinet sessions with some archival footage (the film was shot in the UK and Israel in dank, gray tones by cinematographer Jasper Wolf, who employs Arad Sawat’s grim production design to create a grainy, claustrophobic effect, and edited at a somber pace by Arik Lahav Leibovich), “Golda” does a reasonably good job of laying out the events of the war from the perspective of the Israeli government—including not merely the back-and-forth of the military operations but the difficult diplomatic dance Meir had to conduct with Washington, particularly through Henry Kissinger (Liev Schreiber), to maintain American support while acceding to demands not to push things so far as to invite direct conflict with the Soviets, or poison U.S. interests in maintaining relations with the Arab world for the sake of oil.  It also takes time to portray the close bond between Meir and her personal aide Lou Kaddar (Camille Cottin), who among other things is instrumental in arranging Meir’s radiation treatments for the cancer she has long kept secret from society at large and her governmental associates in particular.

The sources on which Martin based his script are not explicitly cited, but the portrait of Meir that it draws is overwhelmingly positive: she’s depicted as a woman of steely will, going to great lengths to hide her frailty, who won’t be railroaded by anyone (even Kissinger, whom she eventually confronts to extract important concessions from Egypt’s Anwar Sadat despite the dangers to Israeli-American relations), though one who readily solicits advice.  She’s also shown as a leader personally stricken by the human losses she sees herself as having caused (a circumstance personalized in the suffering of one of her typists), carrying guilt for her mistakes. 

Given the passage of time, after contemporary criticism that led to her resignation in 1974 has dimmed, that view might no longer be as controversial as it once would have been in Israel; but Martin’s portrayal of Dayan and Elazar certainly will be.  Dayan is still thought of as a heroic victor of the Six Days’ War, but here he is shown suffering a virtual breakdown after Israel’s initial setbacks and pretty much incapacitated.  Yet Elazar, who was the only major figure dismissed as a result of the Agranat Commission’s findings (causing great protest at the time), is rather rehabilitated here, portrayed as a dedicated, competent IDF leader who worked hand-in-hand with Meir to stabilize the combat situation and turn it around. Some may also dispute the characterization of Sharon, who’s portrayed as a showboating egotist, though one not without personal courage and battlefield acumen; at one point Meir has to placate him with the assurance that he’ll get his chance to shine, and probably become Prime Minister one day because of it.

The supporting cast—including Schreiber, who nails Kissinger’s dryly manipulative manner if not quite his accent—is fine, but the film is really a showcase for Mirren.  Transformed by Karen Hartley Thomas, credited with hair and make-up as well as prosthetics design, the actress becomes a virtual double of Meir.  But more telling than the uncanny physical similarity is Mirren’s ability to capture Meir’s personality.  She mimics the stooped-over, solemn walk (which costumer Sinéad Kidao’s draping dresses accentuate) and the chain-smoking (barely interrupted even when on a hospital table), but more importantly the manner, which can shift suddenly from composed and grandmotherly to stern and commanding.  She also brings off the occasional shift to humor, as when she cajoles the visiting Kissinger into eating a bowl of borscht by telling him that her cook is “a survivor.”  It may not be a great performance, but it is a great impersonation, and makes complaints about her having been cast in the first place seem pointless; after all, the film would probably not have even have been made without her.            

“Golda” isn’t a great movie, either; it’s more of a sober, often stilted TV-quality docudrama about the Yom Kippur War that’s even less successful in dramatizing the complexities of the overall Arab-Israeli conflict than in suggesting the cunning of Golda Meir’s character in dealing with the 1973 surprise attack.  But Mirren gives it her all, and it’s nice to see her apply her talent to something meatier than “Shazam! Fury of the Gods” or “Fast X.”

RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE

Producers: Greg Berlanti and Sarah Schechter   Director: Matthew López   Screenplay: Matthew López and Ted Malawer   Cast: Nicholas Galitzine, Taylor Zakhar Perez, Clifton Collins Jr., Sarah Shahi, Rachel Hilson, Stephen Fry, Uma Thurman, Ellie Bamber, Thomas Flynn, Malcolm Atobrah, Akshay Khanna, Sharon D. Clarke, Aneesh Sheth, Bridget Benstead and Juan Castano   Distributor: Amazon Studios/Prime Video

Grade: C+

All romantic comedies are fantasies to some degree, but this one is truly fantastical, at least as far as plot is concerned.  Based on the 2019 novel by Casey McQuiston, “Red, White & Royal Blue” concerns a love affair that develops between Alex Clermont-Diaz (Taylor Zakhar-Perez), the handsome son of the first female president of the United States, Ellen Clermont (Uma Thurman), and her senator husband Oscar Diaz (Clifton Collins Jr.), and Prince Henry (Nicholas Galitzine), the handsome younger son of the recently-deceased Prince of Wales—the  royal family’s Spare, as he (along with the real Prince Harry, we know from his book) describes himself. 

The two are portrayed as initially disliking one another intensely—the reason is eventually explained—and making an extravagant mess at the wedding reception for Henry’s older brother, snooty Prince Philip (Thomas Flynn); while arguing, they literally crash into a giant cake that comes tumbling down on them.  The ensuing political brouhaha leads to a PR campaign requiring them to pretend to be friends, and so Alex visits Britain for some photo ops with the prince.  During a joint visit to a hospital an incident forces the security detail to shove them into a storage closet for protection, and it’s there that they have a confessional conversation that breaks the ice between them.  Yes, they open up to one another while literally closeted, though their actual coming out as a gay couple won’t occur until much later as a result of tabloid rumor-mongering spread by Miguel Ramos (Juan Castano), a reporter who once had a fling with Alex. 

In the meantime they exchange chummy meetings with one another in the U.S. or England, depending on who’s able to make the transatlantic trip.  Encouraged by his younger sister Beatrice (Ellie Bamber), Henry is the first to make a direct approach with a kiss, leaving a confused Alex to decide how to respond.  But he too finds support in his close friend Nora (Rachel Hilson), and it doesn’t take him long to reciprocate; soon their intimacies grow more intense.  Initially they opt for clandestine nights together, but it’s not long before Zahri (Sarah Shahi), the president’s chief of staff, finds them together and must deal with the potential fallout—during Ellen’s close reelection campaign, yet.

Under the direction of playwright Matthew López, who also co-wrote the adaptation with Ted Malawer, “Red, White & Royal Blue” comes off as an extremely old-fashioned take on a scenario that could have had a lot more edginess.  Just how old-fashioned is demonstrated in the last act, when the possibility arises that the two “princes” might do the apparently expedient thing and sever their relationship.  Their decision is encapsulated in two songs (among many that interrupt Drum & Lace’s perky score): Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1945 “If I Loved You,” followed by “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You,” popularized by Elvis Presley in 1961.

That choice merely emphasizes the fact that “Red, White & Royal Blue” tells a tale that might have been told in a movie of the 1940s or 1950s, about a romance between a prince and princess of two hostile countries in some Ruritanian fantasy.  The only difference is the addition of the gay twist—and, of course, some bedroom scenes a bit (only a bit, mind you) more spicy than they would have been then.  Of course, in either case the family reactions would need to be dealt with.  Here, being good progressive Democrats, both Ellen and Oscar are on the side of true love, even assisting the lovers to enjoy time together.  Except for Beatrice, however, Henry’s family reacts negatively.  Philip is appalled and antagonistic and the boys’ grandfather King James (Stephen Fry) is worried about the public reaction, which turns out to be remarkably positive on both sides of the Atlantic.  That only goes to reinforce how much of a fantasy this story is.

But if you’re willing to accept the movie on its own toothless terms, it’s reasonably tolerable fluff.  Galitzine and Perez are both handsome, likable fellows, and the script doesn’t demand any really strenuous acting from them.  Thurman never really convinces as a savvy politico and her supposedly Texas accent doesn’t either, but she makes Ellen a pleasant presence, while Shahi gets some laughs as her harried assistant.  No one else has much to do; it’s especially sad to watch the usually inventive Fry wasted in a stock one-scene part.  On the visual side the picture possesses the requisite sheen, thanks to Miren Marañón’s production design (which makes good use of the sumptuous British locales), Keith Madden’s elegant costumes, and Stephen Goldblatt’s glossy cinematography.  There are moments when one wishes the editing by Kristina Hetherington and Nick Moore had a touch more pep, but generally the picture moves along fairly well.          

The film ends with Ellen winning her hard-fought reelection campaign by flipping Texas to the Democratic ledger, courtesy of Alex’s direction of her campaign there.  As fantastical as the whole of the picture is, any resident of the Lone Star state will certainly agree that in fantasy terms, that really takes the cake. Just ask Beto O’Rourke.