Arkansas

An organized crime story isn’t truly epic unless it’s told in Italian with a New Jersey accent. At least it feels that way sometimes. That’s an observation, not a value judgement. And yet there are so many other geographic and/or ethnic storytelling styles. You’d think someone could deconstruct the mob genre, substitute Martin Scorsese’s sensibilities for, say, James Dickey’s, and produce something totally different but qualitatively familiar. So John Brandon writes a novel, writer/director/actor Clark Duke interprets it, and “Arkansas” (2020) proves me right. It’s the “what,” not the “who,” that matters most. That’s an observation. And a value judgement.

Juwana Mann

Ever seen that movie where the fast-talking ladies man is pulling off one of his over-the-top con jobs when he unexpectedly falls in love, has a crisis of conscience, loses the girl and has to do something ridiculously implausible to win her back? Yep, there’s a thousand of ’em out there, and they mostly all suck. So much for “Juwana Mann” (2002), the story of a deposed NBA hotshot who pretends to be a women’s professional basketball player. Hijinks ensue. Ugh. The one saving grace is that Miguel A. Nunez Jr. has some great lines while playing a total a-hole.