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One of the basic rules of movie plotting demands that just desserts be served. Movie justice can be subtle (Michael Corleone‘s barren solitude at the end of The Godfather, Part II is one manifestation), but one way or another a principal character must face it. If there’s a proverbial bad guy causing harm and pain during Act One and Act Two (and I’m referring to Barbara Stanwyck‘s Phyllis Dietrichson as much as anyone else), he/she must be somehow punished or brought down in Act Three, period.

Alas, Kathryn Bigelow and Mark Boal‘s Detroit refuses to provide justice in the case of Will Poulter‘s “Phillip Krauss”, a racist, belligerent, beetle-browed fuck cop who causes the death of three innocent black dudes during the Detroit riots, and it’s infuriating. Yes, Bigelow and Boal are sticking by the historical facts, but I’m sitting in my ninth-row aisle seat with my small popcorn and coke and I don’t want “facts”. I want that asshole dead or beaten badly, or condemned to a hellish prison term with regular anal invasions.

This is why Detroit will fail with Joe and Jane Popcorn this weekend. Because it refuses to do the thing that audiences want their movies to do. You take a ticket-buyer’s money, you have to do the thing. If you don’t do the thing, the ticket-buyer will recoil and rebel and tell his friends to stay the fuck away.

Paul Newman was a shit to the end in Martin Ritt‘s Hud. He never repented, never softened, never apologized. And at the end of Act Three he was the owner of a ranch with plenty of oil beneath. But he was also completely alone, and all he had in that final scene was a lit cigarette, a fresh beer and a sneer. That was justice, and was all the audience needed.

Monica Vitti and Gabriele Ferzetti didn’t know what was up or down at the end of Michelangelo Antonioni‘s L’Avventura. They were still hovering in the same affluent, spiritually resigned atmosphere that the film began with, and that was a form of justice. The “no exit” kind reserved for lost souls.

Last night author and former Premiere editor Peter Biskind trashed Dunkirk, calling it “total garbage, confused and confusing, a criminal waste of several of England’s greatest actors,” etc.

I posted my stock reply: “Funkirk — purely immersive, post-narrative, high-throttle IMAXian viewing pleasure start to finish.”

Hamish McAlpine: “What a ridiculous, anti-intellectual critique. I am no fan of Christopher Nolan, to put it mildly, but this is his best film since Memento. You obviously wanted a paint-by-numbers conventional 1950’s war film. What you got was a film which tried to capture the essence of WHAT IS WAS LIKE TO BE THERE. That was the purpose of the film, not to provide a History Channel Reenactment.”

Nicholas Meyer: “I think the filmmaker had an idea and an approach which differed from conventional narrative techniques. Like many artistic innovations, it make take some time to be fully evaluated. Is it a failure or something ahead of the curve? I’m not an unadulterated Nolan fan and couldn’t get behind his Batman movies (to be fair, I can’t watch any movie that ends in ‘man’ except Searching for Surgarman), but I did love Momento and I think the worth or non-worth of Dunkirk may take a while to become clear. All I can say with confidence is that the film stayed with me.”

I’d like to see Dunkirk again this Sunday. At the Universal Citywalk IMAX, of course.

Margaret Betts‘ Novitiate is about various repressions (mostly spiritual) visited on a group of young women who’ve committed to be nuns-in-training, or novitiates. It’s mostly set in 1964, which is when various Vatican-led reforms, known as the Second Vatican Council or Vatican II, were being implemented.

It’s a reasonably well done thing, a little eccentric, a little Sundance-y but not bad. And boy, does it have a hot lesbo scene in the third act! And this new Sony Pictures Classics trailer doesn’t even hint at this. Why, Michael and Tom? What do you have against lesbo tingles? Straight guys the world over eat this shit up, and you won’t even allude to it?

Right off the top you’re going “hmmm, possibly an austere Robert Bresson-like film about the denials, devotions and disciplines of the life of a young would-be nun.” The young protagonist is Cathleen (Margaret Qualley, 22 year-old daughter of Andie McDowell), and over the course of this 123-minute film “her faith is challenged by the harsh, often inhumane realities of being a nun,” etc.

The strongest supporting performances are from Melissa Leo as Reverend Mother (basically doing the same kind of thing that Meryl Streep did in Doubt, only with a heavier hand), Julianne Nicholson as Qualley’s skeptical, non-religious mom, and Denis O’Hare as an Archbishop pressuring Leo into adopting Vatican II’s more liberal “suggestions” about how to run things.

I’m not saying Novitiate is mostly or even partly an erotic thing, but that third-act scene…yowsah! The old axiom about “the stronger the constraints, the hotter the eroticism” certainly applies here. After the Sundance showing I asked around and everyone agreed this was the stand-out — trust me.

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Two things about my highly positive riff about Brad’s Status (Amazon/Annapurna, 9.15), which posted three days ago (7.31). One, when I wrote the piece I somehow hadn’t noticed that Mike White‘s film is slated to play the Toronto Film Festival under the Platform program. Two, I posted outside the realm of regular protocol. I was given a chance to see it outside normal channels, you see. This plus my extremely positive reactions resulted in a decision to post early. If I’d seen Brad’s Status under the usual circumstances I would’ve naturally adhered to the embargo date. What I wrote was more of an emotional data burst or outpouring rather than a “review”, if that’s of any help. I always follow the reviewing rules (if anything my tendency is to post after the embargo date), but this was a special thing, a one-off.

Special counsel Robert Mueller has empowered “his own” grand jury on the Russia probe, and not just a default grand jury under the usual, reflexive, run-of-the-mill procedures that enable grand jury convenement. The Wall Street Journal reported earlier today about the Mueller move, which is almost certainly a sign that the Russia probe is gaining momentum and becoming more declarative.

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Whatever this is, I’m not getting it. All I’m feeling is a kind of trippy, neo-psychedelic vibe. Director Darren Aronofsky understands that kind of current, of course. Remember The Fountain?

In what sounds like a gesture of industry-wise, tender-hearted compassion, Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman is claiming that the allegedly trouble-plagued The Dark Tower “is no shambles. It aims low and hits (sort of)…it’s a highly competent and watchable paranoid metaphysical video game that doesn’t overstay its welcome, includes some luridly entertaining visual effects, and — it has to be said — summons an emotional impact of close to zero. Which in a film like this one isn’t necessarily a disadvantage.

“With any luck, The Dark Tower could prove a solid box-office performer over the weekend, yet the picture’s no-frills design raises an interesting question: Would it have been more commercial had been an ambitious, two-hour-plus sprawl of a movie that attempted to be more digressively true to the weight of King’s novels? My instinct says no. The Dark Tower works as a movie because it’s not trying to be multiverse — and because, in its light derivative ballistic way, it packs in just enough of the King vision to remind you that everything old can be new again, especially if it wasn’t all that novel the first time.”

On 1.17.14 Deadline‘s Mike Fleming reported the skinny about why Oliver Stone‘s Martin Luther King biopic as well as Paul Greengrass‘s Memphis project had run into a wall. The bottom line was that the MLK estate didn’t want the assassinated civil rights leader’s extramarital adventures (allegedly with white women) to be part of the narratives. And yet at the end of 2014 Ava Duvernay‘s Selma put MLK’s extramarital episodes right on the table and nobody said boo. Yesterday Fleming reported that financing is secure on Scott Cooper‘s Hellhound On His Trail, an adaptation of Hampton Sides‘ factual account of MLK’s murder and the subsequent FBI manhunt for assassin James Earl Ray. Presumably the film will acknowledge that FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover taunted and threatened King when he was alive with tapes of his extramarital motel flings. In short, the “MLK had a randy nature” cat — the same that killed Stone and Greengrass’s MLK films — is finally out of the bag.