film criticism by maryann johanson | celebrating 25 years: 1997–2022
I’ve been convinced to give Dream Cast another try. (Thank my brother Ken, who posts comments here sometimes as “Ken,” if you’re happy to see this feature return.) This week: Midnight Run, the 1988 action buddy comedy starring Robert DeNiro as a bounty hunter and Charles Grodin as the mob accountant on the run he’s … more…
Of course it’s Michael Bay-ariffic in that adorably ultraviolent, homophobic kinda way, all vehicles exploding for no apparent reason and deeply repressed male emotions, the kind of stuff that can’t help but lead one to the conclusion that Michael Bay is denying that he has some serious issues with, really, just about everything he comes into contact with: women, men, cars, swimming pools, family pets, home electronics.
So I leave the screening room, in awe at Nolan’s achievement, a young writer/director coming out of nowhere with a film that is bold enough not only to mess with our minds by redefining our understanding of how time flows onscreen but also has the audacity to use that radical storytelling conceit to question what it is that makes us human.
