I saw the Great Nick D

Ansel Faraj's latest, The Great Nick D, is different from his prior Hollinsworth features. This one, written and directed with Nathan Wilson (who's been part of Faraj's standout ensemble for years) isn't Lovecraftian, witchcraft-oriented or Mabuse-based. It's an underdog, comeback fable that promotes humor, poignancy and redemption as part of its ingredients. To say the least, I came away inspired by the results. 

Wilson portrays the titular character, Nick Dick, aka Nick Hatton, a former porn star who's now a crestfallen, beach bum, still decked in his "trademark," cheetah-spotted attire and making traction via a handy, kick scooter. His ex-girlfriend, Faye Davenport, played with gentle conviction by Alexa Wisener, left him long ago, not from contention, but rather that she sprung to Hollywood superstardom.

Nonetheless, Nick clings to those he can, close friends and random acquaintances. These folks include O-Lan Jones' starstruck, office worker, Phyllis; Lara Parker's empathetic, acting coach, Stella Channing; Justin Dray's adult-film impresario, Freddie Van Rosen; Lisa Richards' irascible Aunt Judy; and Douglas Eames' silent, fellow beachcomber, Aldo. There's also Nick's father, Jimmy, who displays great ebullience through the seasoned David Selby, and Jimmy's spry spouse, Starla, who becomes the center of inebriated attention, thanks to the irresistible Kelly Erin Decker. (Decker, incidentally, produced the film with Faraj and Wilson). 

However, it's Nick's by-chance, young pal, George Russing's Ned Zimmerman, who gives the actor his second wind. Ned is, after all, an aspiring agent, even if under the unflinching thumb of his upper-echelon, agency mother, Kathryn Leigh Scott's scoffing but amusing Helen.   

As luck has it, Ned secretly watched Nick's movies back in the day and admired him not only for his sexual prowess, but his versatile range. Ned's big-hearted belief in Nick lands him a movie audition with a prestigious filmmaker, Vince Lionheart, played with subtle pomposity by real-life director, Sam Irvin. As Nick prepares for his comeback, he learns that winning the role may not be as important as tapping that required self-respect to pursue it. 

The Great Nick D is woven with sorrowful flashbacks, which most viewers will find relatable, in that they deal with broken hopes and dreams, and who among us hasn't experienced such? In addition, Nick's frustrating situation, as compared to the contented bliss of Jimmy and Starla, drives home his doleful situation, even if his kindly dad goes the extra mile to spur him on. 

From Nick's hapless exploits, we learn he's a decent guy, affable if not disgruntled. (His angry defense of Robert Redford on a podcast is as uproarious as it's forthright). In this respect, Wilson makes Nick reminiscent of any number of folks we might know, in part tapping Jeff Bridge's Dude and Mickey Rourke's Randy Robinson, but through it all, Wilson also makes Nick his own noble man, heroic warts and all. (To accentuate Wilson's performance, Geoffrey Burch and Joshua Capp do a lovely job embellishing Nick's swagger with upbeat orchestrations, which invoke Chaplin's Little Tramp, as does Robert Murphy's photography, which captures Nick's soul-searching highs and lows.) 

The Great Nick D achieves what any solid melodrama should, delivering sincerity, excellent writing/directing and all-around, quality performances. If only things were done right, this one would be an Oscar contender. Awards or not (though from what I can gather, the movie has already garnered a few), The Great Nick D deserves all the accolades it gets, and I, for one, am confident it gets a ton. 

I saw Horizon: An American Saga (Chapter 1)

Horizon: An American Saga - Chapter 1 is the latest from actor/producer/director Kevin Costner, who cowrote with John Baird and Mark (Silverado) Kasden. It captures the sprawling terrain of John Ford/Henry Hathaway/George Marshall's How the West Was Won and Michael Cimino's Heaven's Gate, set for the long haul in a pre-and-post Civil War America, which spans from Wyoming to Kansas during a twelve-year span.  

The tiered format works like a gritty soap opera in its episodic, Wagon Train start, holding interlocking segments, with the following, supporting individuals segueing into various moments: Abby Lee's Marigold; Sienna Miller's Frances Kittredge; Georgia MacPhail's Lizzie Kittredge; Will Patton's Owen Kittredge; Sam Worthington's Lt. Trent Gephart; Michael Rooker's Sgt. Major Thomas Riodan; Owen Crow Shoe's Pionesay; Jena Malone's Ellen Harvey; Danny Houston's Col. Albert Houghton; Jeff Fahey's "Tracker"; Tom Payne's Hugh Proctor; among an inexhaustible host of others. (Horizon isn't considered an epic without good cause; its hearty cast only reinforces its reputation.)

Costner's Hayes Ellison arrives an hour into the monumental chapter, a saddle-tramp/businessman, who gets involved in a family dispute he didn't foresee. The situation brings out his alpha/sigma traits, as he's a man who doesn't back down from trouble and is willing to help others. In this respect, he's like Alan Ladd's Shane of George Steven's movie of the same name: aloof, autonomous and brave enough to slug it out.  

Luke Wilson's Matthew Van Weyden helps keep the peace, as well. His presence is as palpable as Ellison's, as he grants a comparable, shrewd and paternal patience in what unfolds during his wagon-train segment.  

The story's standout antagonist is Jamie Campbell (Stranger Things) Bowers' Caleb Sykes, a sneering, Northern Territory frontiersman, who along with his domineering family members, wants comeuppance for an attack that left his father incapacitated. For the second phase of the movie, his bloodthirsty motivation prophesizes the saga's mounting tensions and drives home that Shane element all the further, with Sykes being comparable to Jack Palance's steely gunslinger, Jack Wilson, only much more taunting and erratic. 

This antagonistic strand continues throughout the picture, though it's most unsettling episode isn't Sykes-prompted. It occurs when a band of Apaches burns down the fledgling, Horizon community. The sequence is vivid and frightening, perceived as an act of vengeful survival by its perpetrators and one that'll leave audiences impacted long after it ends, though does it ever truly end? Even after the dust clears, the slaughter ebbs and flows within the adventure's related portions.    

There's also a ensnaring consistency to the movie's look, thanks in large part to cinematographer, J. Michael (Titanic 1997) Muro. John (The Passion of the Christ) Debny's score enlivens Muro's photography, which though not as expansive as the Cinerama range of How the West Was Won, still invokes an evocative, old-school naturalness that Costner fans will recognize from Dances with Wolves, Open Range, Wyatt Earp and The Postman.

Horizon has already gained criticism (and this has come even among those who haven't yet seen it) for not taking decisive sides in its depicted conflicts, namely what occurs between the settlers and the Native Americans. Even so, the content defines that which is bad, no matter who or what side commits it. This allows Horizon to be an objective, historical piece of fiction, based on the documented accounts of the period, thus presenting a painstaking dramatization of how the U.S. grew and strengthened. 

I've no doubt that Part 2 will bring much the same worthy, equivocal additives (and no doubt come nearer to the Civil War). For such, I'm most anxious to experience it.  

Horizon: An American Sage - Chapter 2 hits theaters this August. 

FOR THE FUN OF IT:

TERRIFIC TEAM-UP IMAGE: SUPERMAN & MISTER TERRIFIC (SNEEK-PEAK PHOTO)

 

I saw Billy the Kid: the MGM + Series

The legend of Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty, is a vast and varied one. Many interpretations and exaggerations have appeared on film and in literature and comics, with the lines between good and bad often getting blurred when it comes to the seminal, Old West figure. 

The latest, Billy the Kid incarnation has run two seasons on MGM + (the same studio behind Sam Peckinpaugh's classic, Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid). Billy the Kid: the Series is a swell one, even if it was disrupted by an infuriating, six-month, second-season hiatus. 

In structure, the series follows the Kid's known life, but as with any legend, the fictional fodder pads the tale. All the same, one gets a view into Billy's early life and for a substantial chunk of the series, his involvement with the Regulators in New Mexico's Lincoln County War. 

Some of my acquaintances believe that the seasons, in particular the second, act as a parallel to current events, due to Billy's Mexican ties and tastes, but I'm not prone to accept this notion, any more than I'm inclined to place stock in Billy's Irish roots causing him uncertainty in the John H. Tunstall conflict. It's all historical melodrama in any case and therefore, a mere, speculative sequence of cause and effect.

The series' events, whether accurate or embellished, are strengthened by Tom Blyth's titular performance. He looks the part, especially if one compares his features and stature to the famous photo we all know, or even the "croquet" and "poker" ones that some call genuine and others call bull. Blyth also has the right intensity for the long-alleged left-handed lad, though for the series' sake, he's ambidextrous since that validated photo was, as later discovered, printed backwards. 

The rest of the cast is good, too, in particular Alex Roe as Sheriff Pat Garrett (another example of an actor matching photos). Daniel Webber as Billy's wily friend-turned-foe, Jesse Evans (based on the true-life desperado with whom Billy rode for a spell) also adds lots of spunk to the plot. Shaun Benson, Eileen O'Higgins, Luke Camilleri, Dakota Daubly, Benjamin Sutherland, Sean Owen Roberts, Linus Roache, Vincent Walsh, Reilly Coleman, Horatio James, Nuria Vega, Ian Tracey, Brendan Fletcher, and Gary Kanin (et al) are comparably effective, solidifying the mounting melees. 

The series excels, above all, because it's character-driven, but not to the extent of distilling the action. That's thanks to producer Michael Hirst and his cohorts, who never bog the saga down with unnecessary romance or verbosity. There's just enough of both to fill the occasional gap, with the Kid always sticking to his guns (pun intended) to get the job done. 

I don't know if there will be a Season 3, though there should be. That dang hiatus hurt the flow, so with the momentum broken, it's hard to say if those who got hooked early on returned for the rest, thus justifying an extension. I sure hope there's a Season 3, since there's so much more to tell, and it would do viewers, as well as its eponymous outlaw, a great disservice if his legend was left dangling.