Josh Brolin

George Clooney

Alden Ehrenreich

Ralph Fiennes

Scarlett Johansson

Tilda Swinton

Channing Tatum

Frances McDormand

Jonah Hill

Veronica Osorio

Heather Goldenhersh

Alison Pill

Max Baker

Fisher Stevens

Patrick Fischler

Tom Musgrave

David Krumholtz

Greg Baldwin

Patrick Carroll

Fred Melamed

John Bluthal

Alex Karpovsky

Armazd Stepanian

Allan Havey

Robert Pike Daniel

Robert Picardo

Ian Blackman

Geoffrey Cantor

Christopher Lambert

Robert Trebor

Michael Yama

Ming Zhao

Helen Siff

Basil Hoffman

Luke Spencer Roberts

Ralph P. Martin

James Austin Johnson

Noah Baron

Timm Perry

Noel Conlon

Natasha Bassett

Richard Abraham

Jon Daly

Dennis Cockrum

Clancy Brown

Mather Zickel

Tiffany Lonsdale

Clement von Franckenstein

Wayne Knight

Jeff Lewis

Kyle Bornheimer

Josh Cooke

Peter Jason

Stephen Ellis

Jillian Armenante

Jacob Witkin

Jack Huston

Agyness Deyn

Emily Beecham

Benjamin Beatty

J.R. Horne

Caitlin Muelder

E.E. Bell

Kate Morgan Chadwick

Brian Michael Jones

Peter Banifaz

Clifton Samuels

K.C. Reischerl

Jeremy Davis

Marcos Ochoa

Colin Bradbury

Ryan Breslin

Tyler Hanes

Casey Garvin

Luke Hawkins

Evan Kasprzak

Patrick Lavallee

Adam Perry

Ryan VanDenBoom

Alex Demkin

Dax Hock

Shesha Marvin

Mark Stuart

Forrest Walsh

Michael Gambon

Tomoko Karina

Dolph Lundgren

Dean England

Sandy Mansson

Jessee Foudray

Ryan Izay

Johnny Otto

Sergio Kato

Anibal Silveyra

James Gregory

Josiah Black

Joel Coen

Ethan Coen

Clay Cullen

Tim Bevan

Eric Fellner

Jared S. Eddo

Roger Deakins

Ellen Chenoweth

Jess Gonchor

Catherine Farrell

Robert Graf

Mary Zophres

Frank Reina

Dawn Swiderski

Carter Burwell

Samantha Englender

Easton Michael Smith

Bac DeLorme

Dan Schrecker

Craig Berkey

Katie McQuerrey

Greg Papalia

Adam Kirby

Barbara Mesney

Colleen Bachman

Karen Ruth Getchell

Scott Lukowski

Quinn Grove

Don Domino

Valentina Aulisi

Waldo Sanchez

Betsy Magruder

Andy Harris

Bradley Rubin

Brad Einhorn

Peter F. Kurland

Nashon Petrushkin

Ellen Lampl

Michael Thurman

J. Todd Anderson

Mark Weissenfluh

Cydney Cornell

Cara Brower

Susannah Carradine

Jessica Ripka

Jason McDonough

Carolyn Lassek

Kelly Doran

Zoe Hay

John Panzarella

Liza Bambenek

Bradford Ralston

Mitch Lillain

Leslie Thorson

Goro Koyama

Jessica Ramos

Eric Hill

Kevan Weber

Michael J. Schwartz

Peter Clemence

Donis Rhoden

Jose F. Barrios

Bill Gilleran

Lynda Foote

Joe Cigliano

Jean Ann Black

Paul Belenardo

Wyatt Sprague

Randall L. Johnson

Sara Philpott

Chris Napolitano

Jo Kissack Folsom

Mallory Bradley

Rob Phillips

Julie Hewett

Pauletta O. Lewis

Rachael Lin Gallaghan

Elizabeth Tyson

Eric K. Yun

Jennifer Salada

Lyn Matsuda Norton

Jeremy Antonio Oliver

Mark Wojciechowski

S. Dylan Kirkland

George A. Lara

Jeff Passanante

Glen Magers

Robin Borman-Wizan

Lauren Pratto

Bruce Hamme

Charley Gilleran

Comedy

Crime

Mystery

Drama

Hail, Caesar!

Universal Pictures

Mike Zoss Productions

Working Title Films

United Kingdom

United States of America

Alex Wen

There’s a scene halfway through the film when Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich), a Western B-movie star, is cast in a fancy melodrama helmed by Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes). Doyle is hopelessly out of his element, hobbling about in his new suit–the switch was the studio’s idea in an effort to broaden Doyle’s appeal, much to Laurentz’s dismay. It’s not long before the two engage in a back-and-forth, Laurentz trying to get Doyle to pronounce “Would that it ‘twere so simple”, and Doyle trying desperately to appease Laurentz. After a lengthy exchange, both are left exacerbated. Much later in the film, we catch a glimpse of the final version, where Doyle and Laurentz compromise with a much simpler: “It’s…complicated.”

Complicated is exactly what’s at the heart of this situation. Laurentz’s increasing frustration with this obvious miscast and Doyle’s confusion may serve to fuel the slapstick comedy on exhibit, yet this scene alludes to so much more. It’s the inner mechanics of Hollywood, where directors are mere technicians and actors are props, all to be assigned and managed. It’s the clashing of proud classical Hollywood traditions of entertainment and escapism with the dreaded rise of message films and sophisticated art. It’s the contradictory nature of unfettered creativity with capitalism and consumerism, where compromise–and perhaps communism–seems to be the only way out.

This is just one slice of the screwball nature that is the Coen Brothers’ latest comedy, Hail, Caesar! There’s also a kidnapped Roman soldier, Baird Whitlock (George Clooney at his dimmest and greatest), a handsome sailor (Channing Tatum) and a beautiful mermaid (Scarlett Johansson). All opportunities–that the Coens gladly take–to simultaneously demonstrate the power and influence of cinema, while mocking its sense of self-importance.

Each scene is allowed to play out, Channing Tatum and his homoerotic musical number or Scarlett Johansson’s hypnotizing aquatic acrobatics. It’s not only an homage films of the Golden Era, but a demonstration of the mechanics that make film such an appealing medium. The Coen Brothers have a firm grasp on the allure behind each piece, using the acting, staging and costumes to propel Hail, Caesar! forward. It’s a simple concept–use filmmaking techniques to advance a theme and narrative, but by prioritizing these lengthy sequences over traditional narrative pacing or dialogue, the Coen Brothers give room for these fundamental concepts to breathe and thrive.

It’s all threaded together through Josh Brolin’s character, Eddie Mannix, studio fixer. And there’s a lot that needs fixing: a pregnant star, a discontent director, communism, threat from the future–the usual. It’s a packed schedule, and the film follows suit with a similarly hectic pacing. An array of symbols, innuendos and subversions are thrown at the viewer: Capital Studios butting with Das Kapital, Mannix being offered a role at Lockheed where they tout a more stable industry– weapon-making, or Whitlock staring at the audience as he addresses God. It borders on bombastic, but there’s just too much wit, and heart, here to discredit any of the ideas presented–fleshed out or not.

Hail, Caesar! doesn’t break new ground in the increasingly crowded sub-genre of Hollywood-on-Hollywood, but it hits a Goldilocks concoction between inside baseball cynicism and endearing love letter. Though all these antics, the Coen Brothers argue, quite convincingly, that everything in film matters, while also making a case for the futility and hollowness of anything produced on the grounds of Hollywood. So is this a nihilistic shrug at our attempt at defining and contextualizing or a fierce exhibition of the inherent power of Hollywood where life imitates art? Well, as Doyle would try to tell you, “Would that it ‘twere so simple.”

Gimly

I am a fan of the Cohen Brothers, but I will not lay laurels at the feet of a movie simply because it bears their name. _Hail, Caesar!_ is not one of their better efforts.

Unrelated: I also wonder why they felt it necessary to hide the fact that they were making a faith-based film in the trailers.

_Final rating:★★½ - Had a lot that appealed to me, didn’t quite work as a whole._