Author: Andres Kabel

Set at the atmospherically staged Cape Canaveral NASA space station in the lead-up to Armstrong’s epochal 1969 moon walk, Fly Me to the Moon is a rom-com based on the conceit that NASA hires a super publicist (Scarlett Johanssen in top form) who then aids and frustrates, equally, the launch director’s tense countdown job. A devious White House manipulation adds drama to the rom-com tussle. All of this bodes well for this jaunty movie, and there is much to savor in the viewing, but two aspects bring the film back to earth (so to speak). As seems to happen with many American films, the music is clumsy and harks back to a bygone-and-best-forgotten style. More important, Channing Tatum in the key male role is perfectly miscast, unable to portray either the abundant humor in many scenes or any serious emotion. Fly Me to the Moon might while away a couple of hours but it will soon be forgotten.

The first two seasons of The Bear were an unholy, tightly meshed mix of breakneck plot, feverish restaurant action, yelling/swearing, and character unfolding. Those two seasons represented the best of this Golden Age of the screen. Season 3 is altogether different and far more radical. It sees Christopher Storer boldly slow the action down to the point where the plot does advance (the core elements being: when will the upcoming Chicago Tribune review spill and will it make or break Carmy?; will Carmy apologize to Claire Bear?; will Syd sign the restaurant co-ownership agreement?) but glacially, with maximum ratcheting up of tension. Storer somehow feels freed up, so that he can, for example, devote the entire first episode (of ten) to an examination of the entire restaurant’s crew on the day after the tumultuous final scene in Season 2, with never-ending flashback scenes from Carmy’s New York apprenticeship days, accompanied by the sublime tinkling piano of Nine Inch Nail’s “Together”. Storer can devote an entire episode to a Tina flashback in the dark old days and another episode to Sugar in the maternity ward with their estranged, terrible mother (played in a best-of-career performance by Jamie Lee Curtis). The climactic episode is one long, agonizingly drawn-out paean to Michelin-level restaurants. Normally allergic to slow pace, I found myself riveted by the existential agonies experienced by so many in Carmy’s team, in a restaurant milieu painted in its glory. If Seasons 1 and 2 were near-perfect offerings of characterization-and-plot dramas, Season 3 is a perfect, arty cinematic take on modern life and love and ambition.

Based on the mega bestseller Diana Gabaldon books, the decade-long Outlander series combines time travel dramas (modern day Claire and various others travel between modern day America or Scotland and 18th century Scotland and American-Civil-War-era United States), sumptuous, deep love affairs (Claire and James Fraser, a Scottish warrior, for example), and realistic historical fictional tales. The ongoing series possess wonderful narrative momentum, brilliant plot surprises, romance, lust (the least engaging portion in my opinion), acute character portrayals, and exploration of human themes. In other words, Gabaldon has created in her books a fertile historical fantasy setup that has been, for the most part, translated effectively to the screen. The series derives its core appeal from the superlative acting of Catriona Balfe and Sam Heughan in the two central roles, plus fine acting from an extended supporting cast. Season 7 covers a period just prior to the climax of the Civil War, plus a back-and-forth-in-time drama featuring Claire’s daughter and her husband. In contrast to the best seasons, which have complex, compelling plots, Season 7 flags badly in its middle half section, but the scene setting involved in this “downtime” viewing period has a payoff: the final two episodes, thick in the Civil War’s fury and horrors, remind us why we continue to watch Outlander with enjoyment.

Adapting a complex, deep, yet amusing and readable novel like Amor Towles’s must present so many challenges, but the eight-episode A Gentleman in Moscow succeeds brilliantly, if for reasons different to the book’s strengths. If Towles achieved a wonderful mix of humor, setting/milieu, drama, and style, the series is more emotive and cuts the plot down to size; it feels very different. That it fails to drift into horrid melodrama is entirely due to the flawless acting performance of Euan McGregor, who plays Count Alexander Rostov, sentenced in 1922 by the new communist government to full house arrest in the Metropol Hotel on Red Square. McGregor is pitch perfect as the aristocrat who retains his dignity while being trapped in one building for over three decades, while ending up with a mini family of an adopted child, the love of his life, and the hotel’s idiosyncratic staff. The supporting cast is more than adequate, the music suits the story, and the indoor-scenic cinematography elevates the Metropol to a character in its own right. The episodes rocket along until a feverish climax. Viewer, I recommend you read the book first, but if reading is not your ticket, by all means, this series of A Gentleman in Moscow is a 2024 viewing highlight.

Season 1 of Colin From Accounts was a swinging delight of chuckles and Season 2 is more of the same: more of the high points and also more of the occasional flatness. Once more, the story revolves around an older brewer in love with a young trainee doctor, brought together by an inscrutable dog with wheels for back legs. Patrick Brammall and Harriet Dyer are improvisational naturals in their star roles, and an excellent supporting cast bounces off that pair. Season 2 comprises vignette stories (the possible acquisition of the brewery, the arrival of a meddling brother, the new love interest of a friend) that gradually coalesce into the forward motion of the core relationship. Any situation comedy like this has to stand or fall on its humor, and Season 2 of Colin From Accounts has three laugh-out-loud climactic scenes and a number of mildly amusing skits. All in all, Season 2 deserves to be out there (it is a most enjoyable week’s watching) but I wonder if a Season 3 might not overstretch the basic story.