Inside Llewyn Davis

By Joseph McAleer, Catholic News Service

The trials and tribulations of a 1960s folk singer are chronicled in “Inside Llewyn Davis”, a dark comedy-drama set amidst the moody music scene of New York City’s Greenwich Village in the early years of that turbulent decade.

Brothers Joel and Ethan Coen (“No Country for Old Men”), who directed and wrote the screenplay, were inspired by the life of genre legend Dave Van Ronk (1936-2002). Aesthetically, the product of the siblings’ collaboration is an absorbing, atmospheric odyssey with hummable music.

Regrettably, however, their script is chock-full of filthy dialogue and, worse still, freighted with misguided values concerning the sacredness of human life and the gift of sexuality.

It’s 1961, and Llewyn Davis (Oscar Isaac) is down on his luck. His musical partner has committed suicide, leaving Llewyn professionally adrift, struggling to find a new niche as a solo act. He has cut the eponymous album – the title of which mimics that of Van Ronk’s seminal 1964 recording, “Inside Dave Van Ronk” – but it’s going nowhere.

Winter has set in, and Llewyn, without money or even a warm coat, is on the streets. As he searches for gigs, he relies for shelter on the kindness of his pals all over Manhattan, his ex-girlfriend, Jean (Carey Mulligan), among them.

Jean is in love with her musical partner, Jim (Justin Timberlake), but she’s carrying Llewyn’s baby. Jean wants out, as does Llewyn, so he arranges for her to have an abortion.

We learn that Llewyn has made such arrangements before for other girlfriends. He is staggered to discover, however, that one of them did not go through with the destruction of her baby after all. Consequently, he has a 2-year-old child out there, somewhere.

While this brief pro-life moment is refreshing, the revelation does not appear to change Llewyn’s self-absorbed ways, nor does it convince him to persuade Jean to change her mind.

Llewyn’s edgy musical style is out of step with the more popular, clean-cut folk singers. So he decides on a change of venue.

With an orange tabby cat as his new best friend, Llewyn bums a ride to Chicago with two dodgy characters: Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund), a beat poet, and Roland Turner (John Goodman), a jazz musician and heroin addict.

Neither the Windy City nor his newfound companions turn out to be what Llewyn was hoping for, though, and he soon finds himself back in his original down-and-out situation. To the strings of the ballad “Fare Thee Well,” our antihero must choose between a bleak future in music or a mundane job with a steady paycheck.

For all but one of his offspring, by contrast, there is no future to worry about.

The film contains a benign view of abortion, promiscuity and contraception, drug use, pervasive profane and crude language and some sexual banter.  Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.

Labor Day

By John Mulderig, Catholic News Service

Many of the elements that make one or another film objectionable are happily absent from the glossy romantic drama “Labor Day”.

Violence is minimal; a single misuse of the Lord’s name aside, the dialogue is free of taint; and the movie’s portrayal of sexuality is restrained throughout.

Yet the joy of physical passion is one of the primary themes in writer-director Jason Reitman’s screen version of Joyce Maynard’s best-selling 2009 novel. Consequently, the proceedings are permeated with subtly handled but unmistakable sensuality.

The improbable nature of the plot is equally impossible to miss, despite such potential distractions as the picture’s engagingly bucolic look and the skillful performances turned in on all sides.

Adult narrator Henry Wheeler (Tobey Maguire) introduces the bulk of the film in the form of a sustained flashback to his childhood. As a lad of 13 (Gattlin Griffith), Henry is living with – and looking after – his depressed, reclusive mother, Adele (Kate Winslet), a divorcee from whose emotional problems Henry’s dad (Clark Gregg) has sought refuge in the arms of his secretary, now Henry’s stepmom.

As the 1987 observance of the titular holiday weekend begins, the need to update Henry’s wardrobe for the forthcoming school year forces Adele to take a rare drive into town. There she and Henry accidentally cross paths with escaped convict Frank Chambers (Josh Brolin), who appeals to them – not without an unstated threat of violence – to give him temporary shelter in their home. Reluctantly, they comply.

Frank, however, turns out to be quite the houseguest. After assuring his initially intimidated hosts that the case against him is not what it seems, he endeavors to earn his keep by doing various manly domestic chores: repairing a loose step here, quieting a squeaky hinge there. If this endears him to unable-to-cope Adele, a batting lesson is just the thing to win paternally neglected Henry’s heart.

Though he may be a handyman and a jock – not to mention a convicted murderer – Frank has his softer side too, as he demonstrates by teaching Adele and Henry how to bake a peach pie. Viewers of the trailer for “Labor Day” will know that this process, from which Henry is eventually excluded, takes on a more-than-culinary significance, Frank’s concern for the flakiness of his crust notwithstanding.

It’s a hop, skip and a jump from the kitchen to the bedroom where Frank and Adele’s first romp – they’ve now known each other for all of 36 hours – is sufficiently enthusiastic to be overheard by Henry. The muffled sounds turn the sleepless young man’s fancy not so much to thoughts of love as to the remembered sight of one of his classmate’s bra straps.

Indeed, as Frank stokes the banked fires of Adele’s eroticism, her carnal revival is uncomfortably juxtaposed with Henry’s emerging sexuality. Though our glimpses of the latter only hint at anything beyond a first kiss, the placement of them in tandem with Adele’s carryings-on feels queasy. All the more so, since Henry eventually harbors oedipal suspicions that he’s been displaced in Adele’s affections and that she plans to abandon him by running off to Canada with her wanted man.

It’s no spoiler to reveal that Adele and Frank’s love shows itself, in the end, ready for the long haul. But that doesn’t alter the fact that their relationship took on a physical dimension long before the nature of their bond was, shall we say, ripe?

Oh, those heady peaches.

The film contains fleeting violence, brief semi-graphic premarital sexual activity, another unseen but audible encounter of the same nature, at least one use of profanity and several sexual references. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.

 The Best Man Holiday

By John Mulderig, Catholic News Service

Piety and raucousness vie for screen time – and make for an uneasy mix – in the freewheeling sequel “The Best Man Holiday”.

Predictably, perhaps, it’s the less edifying elements that win out in this blend of comedy and drama: Talk of things spiritual yields center stage to bedroom shenanigans, locker room-level dialogue and even a catfight.

Still, religion plays an unusually prominent role in writer-director Malcolm D. Lee’s follow-up to his 1999 feature “The Best Man.” As the ensemble of characters from that outing – prosperous African-Americans whose ties of friendship date back to college days – reunite for a Christmas house party, some of them discuss faith and pray at moments of crisis, while all attend church and pitch in as volunteers at a parish-run soup kitchen.

Yet several of the problems and rivalries that troubled the gang in the old days – and that bubble up to the surface here – can be traced to less admirable behaviour. One conflict, for instance, divides football star Lance (Morris Chestnut) from his erstwhile closest pal, Harper (Taye Diggs), based on Harper’s long-ago premarital dalliance with Lance’s now-happily married wife, Mia (Monica Calhoun).

An even seamier plight arises for respected charter-school principal Julian (Harold Perrineau) when he discovers that a vintage sex video making the rounds on the Internet shows his spouse, Candace (Regina Hall) – an ex-stripper who now raises funds for his academy – prostituting herself at a fraternity party.

Taking it all in is carefree lothario Quentin (Terrence Howard). His love-hate bond with equally unfettered single mom Shelby (Melissa De Sousa) is pursued as irresponsibly as all the other relationships in his life. As for the adolescent take on sex that fuels Quentin’s bawdy banter, it’s meant to come across as funny rather than stunted.

Things turn serious with the revelation that one of the central figures is seriously ill. Though this potentially tragic development offers the opportunity for more prayer and reflection, the respite from raunchiness proves all too temporary.

The film contains pornographic images involving upper female nudity and debased behaviour, brief graphic marital lovemaking, excessive sexual humour, drug use, mature themes, including prostitution and promiscuity, about a half-dozen uses of profanity and much rough and crude language.  Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian.