Movie Review: "Booksmart"

"Booksmart": B-.  The night of high school graduation has served as the setting for several films over the years.  The action in Booksmart takes place the day and night before, when leading character Molly Davidson (Beanie Feldstein) and best friend Amy Antsler (Kaitlyn Dever) discover, however belatedly, that all through high school their classmates have deemed them dull and humorless book nerds.  Molly's acceptance into Yale and her role as student council president only fortify that reputation.  The truth is that these gals are truly comedic and fun to the core.  Unfortunately they have kept that side of themselves to themselves.  They still have a very limited amount of time to go out with a bang before graduation and prove to their would-be friends they've had the pair pegged incorrectly.

We movie viewers do not share the same mischaracterization of Molly and Amy as do their classmates.  From the opening scene in which the girls go into a mini-dance routine in front of Amy's car, it's apparent to us that they score an 11 on the Zany Meter.  Our first take on these chicks is that they must be the life of the party.  The problem is, they're never invited to parties.

With graduation only one day away, Molly and Amy have some catching up to do.  They get wind of a huge "let it all hang out" bash hosted by classmate Nick at a mansion owned by his aunt, who conveniently is out of town.  But where, exactly, is this place?  The girls' endeavors to locate the blowout take up the majority of Booksmart's run time.

Their quest includes a few side tracks and dead ends, including time aboard a yacht and crashing a murder mystery house party.  These scenes are mildly humorous but at least furnish opportunities for some of the supporting cast, particularly eccentric George (Noah Galvin), to have their moments.  One clever creation is the girls' use of the term "milala," which, when invoked by one, requires the other to accede to any request.

Speaking of the supporting cast, Jason Sudekis' turn as Principal Jordan Brown is nothing short of brilliant. The unshaven administrator can't wait for the school year to be over, and thus does not want to be bothered with what he brushes aside as mundane, petty issues which reach his desk during these final hours.  When he shows up later in the film as a Lyft driver, it is clearly a laugh-out-loud moment.  If Booksmart ever shows up on television, I plan to DVR it and then fast forward through everything except Principal Brown's scenes.  By the way, Sudekis is engaged to the film's director, Olivia Wilde.

When Booksmart first arrived in the Twin Cities in early June, most of the local critics raved about it.  I suspect their high praise may say more about the present dearth of well written comedies than it does about this film's merits standing alone.  There is no dispute here that Booksmart contains some chuckle-worthy moments.  And, Feldstein shows promise as a talented young actress -- with a name like "Beanie" the sky is the limit.  Nevertheless I can't join the ranks of those who gushed over this film.  I am not sorry I went to see it, but part of that feeling is due to my only having to spend $2.50 at the Hopkins Theater. 

Movie Review: "Love Them First: Lessons From Lucy Laney Elementary"

"Love Them First: Lessons From Lucy Laney Elementary": A-.  Three essential ingredients are often found in excellent documentaries: an interesting topic, one or more main characters with whom the viewers can connect, and luck.  The first two requirements are obvious, but what about the third?  Exhibit A is the 1994 film Hoop Dreams, the best documentary I have ever seen.  It is the story of two black, inner-city youngsters, William Gates and Arthur Agee, who commuted on Chicago's L for an hour and a-half each way to attend a mostly white high school, St. Joseph, in the western suburbs.  The attraction was St. Joe's powerhouse basketball program.  More on the "luck" aspect later.

I was reminded of Hoop Dreams when I recently saw Love Them First: Lessons From Lucy Laney Elementary.  That documentary, which I might label Exhibit B, was a huge hit with the patrons of this spring's Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival (MSPIFF).  Lucy Laney is an elementary school located in the Cleveland  Park neighborhood of Minneapolis.  The demographics of the student body reflect its impoverished surroundings: 90% minority and 90% from families living below the poverty line as determined by the federal government.  Eager and most willing to take on the challenges presented by such circumstances is principal Mauri Friestleben, as dedicated an administrator as you're likely to find in any school district.  Friestleben is a product of the same troubled North Side area and knows too well that the school, for many youngsters, provides the most steadying support of their day.  Like many great inner city principals, she is called upon to wear a multitude of different hats during the course of her constantly-on-the-move work day: counselor, advocate, enforcer, protector, cheerleader, planner, goal setter, etc.  In short, she is the face of the school.

With unlimited access, filmmakers Lindsey Seavert and Ben Garvin follow Friestleben through her grueling yet rewarding days.  Under the gaze of a huge portrait of Muhammad Ali, the principal sets the tone early on in the late-August faculty meetings days before the kids' first day of the school year.  Her message resembles that of a football coach's pre-game admonition to his underdog team.  "If you don't believe we can make a difference or don't think you can put in the hard work and sacrifice which will be essential, leave now."  That warning may sound harsh, but we viewers quickly learn that the faculty Friestleben is addressing has for the most part been specifically recruited by her due to their reputation as elite, caring educators.  Most of them could have chosen an easier career path within the Minneapolis Public Schools district, but have opted to work under this principal with these children.  As a group, the teachers constitute the epitome of dedication.

Why is there a prevailing worry regarding success at Lucy Laney?  The almighty standardized tests given to the students by edict of the Minnesota education authorities have proven to be too difficult.  Year after year, Laney's test scores have not passed muster, the result being that the school is flagged as one of the state's failures.  The sad irony here is at least threefold.  The teaching staff is top drawer, the students are generally enthusiastic about learning, and the resources afforded to Laney are more, per capita, than the majority of schools in the district.  But Friestleben and her subordinates do not allow the annual disappointment deter them from their mission.  They realize they owe it to their young charges to keep grasping for the brass ring.

Notwithstanding what I've written to this point, the tone of Love Them First is not doleful or pessimistic; the upbeat bouncy score by Charlie McCarron and Cornbread Harris stands in the way.  Rather, viewers witness countless instances of the three theological virtues, faith, hope and love, on display.  In fact, the title of the film is taken from Friestleben's motto of how to deal with children who are obviously going through physical or emotional trouble.  You don't go up to them and start pumping them with questions in an effort to analyze their issues.  "Any time anybody sees a child that looks forlorn, lost or not taken care of, spread your arms, scoop them up, ask questions later.  But love them first" by giving the child a comforting hug and, if necessary, a shoulder to cry on.

Although the principal is rightfully the focus of the documentary, her co-star, if you will, is a precocious fifth grader, Sophia, with an exuberant, sparkling personality whom filmmakers Seavert and Garvin wisely insert from time to time.   Her appearances on camera were my favorite portions of the film.  Speaking of "camera," watching the kids strike poses with glee on Camera Day is, by itself, worth the price of admission.

How does luck come into play in judging the merits of Hoop Dreams and Love Them First?  In the former, documentarian Steve James began filming Gates and Agee when they were still in middle schools of the Chicago ghettos.  The boys' basketball playing was done on the city's playgrounds with net-less hoops and ramshackle backboards.  The kids, at that point in their lives, had probably never heard of St. Joseph High School. James took a chance because there was no guarantee that the boys would continue their basketball careers years later at the high school varsity level, or that each of them would have personal stories which drew riveting attention.  As for the latter film, Seavert and Garvin were fortunate that the one school year they chose to film, 2017-2018, had a surprise twist pertaining to Lucy Laney's quest to remove itself from the dreaded list of failed schools.  To write more would run the risk of spoiling the viewing experience.

Seavert and Garvin are both employed by KARE 11, she as a reporter and he as a photojournalist.  They conducted hundreds of interviews and shot hundreds of hours of film, masterfully condensed to an eighty-nine minute feature.  The story is heartwarming and at times heartbreaking.  The cameras are there to catch the highs and the lows, leaving an everlasting impression on anyone who cares about little kids.  It is no wonder Love Them First won the MSPIFF's Peoples' Choice Award.  The film is currently being circulated for wider release across the country, and KARE 11 will show it in its entirety later this year.