This movie may persist as one a beloved Thanksgiving classic. It is a work of magic that brilliantly typifies the political and familial anxieties of life in the Trump era. I saw this movie during Thanksgiving break with Dad and really liked it then. It’s been about three months (Feb 27) since I saw it, so I only have the broad outlines of notes, but as we’re a day out from the Oscars (actually, a month since at this point–how have I let this lapse so long?), it seems worth tying up some loose strings.
Probably the coolest thing thing about this whodunnit is how early into the movie we’re given the key to unlock the mystery of the old man’s death.
Slate says KO innovates on the genre and it’s about time: the Roshomon-style cuts to the birthday party during the police interrogation, the side-by-side contrasting responses to the same leading questions about the father’s questioning that leads to the unexpected joke when Jamie Lee Curtis is not manipulated where her husband is, all of this is fresh and charming. On this point, the apparent bumbling nature of the detective is delicious: he talks freely with the maid, misses all the important details until they are presented to him. Chris Evans tows the line between being too gallant and a complete slimeball (ultimately his confession wins the day for Team Slimeball).
On that point, Ana de Armas whom I’ve loved in Bladerunner, was an unexpected delight, down to her “unconscious regurgitation for mistruths.” Her throwing up is actually part of one of the lovely themes of this past (!) year–pretty women throwing up, in Hustlers, KO, and The Dead Don’t Die, strangely enough.
Anyway, that’s all I have. My dad and I saw this while I was home for Thanksgiving and it’ll always be that one movie we weren’t embarrassed to have seen together made by the guy who did Looper and that one weird episode of Breaking Bad in the single room, and that one Star Wars movie with the lady from Jurassic Park who had badass purple hair.
