Elio eventually finds its footing
Much like its titular character, Pixar’s Elio gradually wins you over. Directed by Adrian Molina and Domee Shi, the film gets off to an awkward start, clumsily executing the all-too-familiar plot points found in these coming-of-age stories. And, while I shouldn’t say this, the kid is less than engaging. Yet, as the story by Julia Cho and Mark Hammer unfolds and its intent becomes plain, a bit of charm is revealed the proves hard to resist. Thankfully, the lead character winds up being a hero in the truest sense of the word, becoming more endearing as he struggles to discover who he is.
To be sure, Elio (voice by Yonas Kibreab) has had a rough go of it. What with his parents being killed in an accident, he’s gone to live with his Aunt Olga (Zoe Saldana), who just happens to be a major in the Air Force. The division she works in monitors satellite traffic and activity, occasionally picking up signals from space. This proves to be right in Elio’s wheelhouse as he’s become obsessed with the notion that aliens exist. Feeling alone and abandoned, he longs for them to come and take him away, in the hopes he’ll find a place where he belongs.
After sneaking into his aunt’s place of work and finding a translated message from the cosmos, he manages to author a reply that gets the attention of the inhabitants of the Communiverse. This roving planet is populated by ambassadors from various space races across the galaxy. Elio presents himself as Earth’s leader, eager to join this benevolent society. However, he must show his worth by convincing Lord Grigon (Brad Garrett), who is overlord to a planet of metal armored warriors, to leave the Communiverse be. Like any bully, he’s intent on destroying it, as they will not have him as a member.
Once the film shifts locations, it finds its footing. The menagerie of aliens, though not given enough screen time, are fascinating, while the introduction of Glordon (Remy Edgerly), Grigon’s son, gives Elio a dynamic character to play off. This naïve larval creature shares Elio’s sense of low self-esteem, fearful he will never be able to please his father by becoming a warrior like him. While predictable, there’s a sincerity in the way the bond between them forms, finally giving the film the emotional foundation it needs to succeed.
Running a scant 99 minutes, the movie feels long, running afoul of the sort of narrative bloat and repetition that’s plagued the superhero genre. Needless complications forestall the cathartic climax we crave, making for an, at times, frustrating experience.
That being said, Molina and company deliver with a genuinely emotional ending that salvages the film. Once Grigon reveals himself to be more than just a killing machine, you’ll be willing to forgive the script its structural trespasses. A pleasant surprise, the third act is nearly as good as anything you’ll find in a Pixar movie.
Parents should note that some disturbing images crop up at times. Grigon and his brethren are genuinely foreboding while a moment when another character dissolves would be more at home in a body horror feature. That being said, those age seven and above should be able to handle and enjoy all Elio has to offer, as will their parents, once they get past its pedestrian first act. In theaters.
Lack of passion makes for curious Materialists
Song’s follow-up to her Oscar-nominated Past Lives, this film casts cynicism as its villain, an inclination two of the principals in its “love” triangle cling to as a security blanket. Working as a matchmaker, Lucy (Dakota Johnson) has been trained to look at marriage as a business transaction, and she’s an expert at closing her deals. Coming off her ninth successfully arranged marriage, she’s insulated herself to the notion that a relationship based on love alone can ever succeed. She knows of what she speaks, having spent five years with John (Chris Evans), an aspiring actor who never had two nickels to rub together. Living hand-to-mouth eventually took its toll, Lucy leaving him for greener pastures, or perhaps a life alone.
And though she tells herself her defenses are strong in the area of romance, she’s hardly prepared for what happens at her latest client’s wedding reception. Not only does she run into John, working as a waiter at the event, but she catches the eye of the groom’s brother Harry (Pedro Pascal). Rich, handsome and kind, he’s referred to as a unicorn in Lucy’s industry, and while she’s trained to look at him as nothing more than a potential match for one of her patrons, she’s not resistant to his obvious charms.
What ensues is a moral storm within Lucy, as she wrestles with whether to enter into a situation that will provide her with all she’d ever need and more or give love just one more chance. As with any romance, our interest hinges on the likability of its characters and Song expertly puts us in her heroine’s shoes as the men she’s considering are two incredibly likable guys. Pascal’s unassuming charm is well-used here, his approach to Harry never overbearing. Quiet and considerate, never ostentatious where his wealth is concerned, he’s a seemingly atypical member of the 1%, the actor effectively underplaying the role throughout. Evans is required to take a different approach as John is a bit more passionate about Lucy and his pursuit of success. Yet, he never comes off as naïve, aware that he has little to offer Lucy but his heart, the actor’s quiet sincerity convincing us, and perhaps her, that is enough.
Song’s premise is initially strong but begins to fray by the time the third act begins. Harry and John make their arguments as to why Lucy should be with them on multiple occasions, while she ticks off the pros and cons of each of them just as often. The film loses some of its momentum due to this, its urgency waning. Meanwhile, a subplot regarding one of Lucy’s clients (Zoe Winters) being assaulted on a date she arranged is stretched to its breaking point. While it’s obvious this would cause her to question her role in this event and whether to continue in this industry, this conflict also wears thin.
The ultimate irony regarding Materialists is its contradictory nature. If you’ve seen Lives, it comes as no surprise how this film ends, Song’s leanings where love and romance are obvious from that feature. Yet it’s the lack of passion on display here that ultimately undoes the movie. While love is in the air, it certainly isn’t presented as the sort that would sweep anyone away or lead to declarations of eternal devotion. And while we’ve become accustomed to finding such things in romantic movies, in the end Materialists is more concerned with commerce than desire. In theaters.
Moore, Sweeney compelling in gripping Valley
Kate Garretson is hanging by a thread. Grieving the loss of her wife, it’s an effort for her to get out of bed each morning, the crack in the ceiling over her bed a reminder of all she needs to do but hasn’t the will to do it. Her horse farm is too much for her to handle alone and not having the will to continue teaching riding lessons, she’s in danger of losing her home. The fact that she’s going to have to go hat-in-hand to her ex-husband to ask for money to fix the barn roof is an unpleasant necessity.
As a result of all this, she’s hardly prepared when her daughter, Claire, shows up on her door, hysterical and strung out, desperate for help. This scenario has played out many times before and Kate does what she always does, dropping everything to cater to Claire’s needs, something the girl counts on. Yet her manipulation on this occasion will come back to haunt them both, her self-centered actions ultimately putting them in a life-threatening situation.
The success of Michael Pearce’s Echo Valley relies heavily on strong performances. There are some third-act plot points that offer themselves up for scrutiny and for some viewers, their suspension of disbelief will be tested when they witness all the heroine does in an effort to save herself and her daughter. Yet the conviction brought to the roles of Kate and Claire by Julianne Moore and Sydney Sweeney, respectively, allowed me to look past some of the convenient turns Brad Ingelsby’s script takes. Each actress gives wholly committed, exhausting performances that are not only compelling, but recognizable.
Moore’s mama bear approach in bringing Kate to life elicits emotions ranging from sympathy to exasperation. While any parent will relate to her protective instincts, her willingness to cater to Claire though it compromises her financially and morally will prompt you to want to give her a good shaking.
Sweeney proves her equal when they share the screen, looking ragged and unkempt, her face puffy and drawn, jittery in anticipation of her next hit. The actress turns on a dime, going from sweet and sympathetic to being a rage-filled narcissist without missing a beat. And though her role is a supporting one, her presence is felt throughout.
Equally memorable is Domhnall Gleeson as Jackie, the drug dealer Claire is indebted to, having inadvertently thrown away some merchandise he wants to be paid for. Kate makes good on the debt, thinking they’ll then be rid of him. However, a desperate act on her part allows him to lord over her in a way that will ultimately cost her everything. That you want to bash Jackie’s head in with a baseball bat is a tribute to Gleeson’s conviction towards the role.
Shot as if there are perpetually overcast autumn skies, Pearce rarely lets the pace lag, the bucolic, country setting ultimately consumed by the sort of noirish overtones more akin to the city. Ingelsby’s script slowly tightens the noose around Kate, the viewer sharing in her growing sense of dread, realizing only too late just how dire her situation is, her sense of desperation, palpable.
To be sure, the climax requires a bit of a leap to accept but when all is said and done, what occurs is not out of the realm of the possible. And in the end, it should be remembered the film is ostensibly an examination of the pitfalls of enabling abhorrent behavior. Echo takes an unflinching look at the eternal parental dilemma of knowing when to step in to help your children and having the courage to walk away when necessary. Streaming on Apple TV+.
This article appears in The College Crisis.
