Entertainment

On The Count Of Three Review: A Strikingly Empathetic Black Comedy

Jerrod Carmichael, Christopher Abbott, and J.B. Smoove in On The Count of Three

As expected of a black comedy, a written synopsis leaves little room for humor, though there is plenty in the actual film. Val and Kevin have very different ways of perceiving the world, and even as they are united in purpose, they would clearly choose to go about it in very different ways on their own. Kevin is honest and raw, his pain an open wound he doesn’t hesitate to share with the world, and his habit of crossing lines when he speaks evokes laughter almost as a reflexive response to the shock. Val, meanwhile, is withdrawn and numb, his cynically wry outlook having seemingly eroded any sense of meaning in his life. His observations packaged as jokes can feel both bitingly funny and uncomfortably true. Kevin calls out Val’s stereotypically masculine inability to be open about his feelings; Val pokes fun at Kevin’s tendency to be almost performatively dramatic about his. There is an honesty to the way they prod each other that is the difference between the movie making light of a serious issue, and the characters trying (and often failing) to do so for themselves.

The other main strand of comedy in On the Count of Three is situational, and it is here that the film is comparably less balanced. The movie’s first half contains two sequences, one set during Val’s last day at work and the other involving a chance encounter with someone from Kevin’s past, that are both painfully hilarious and hilariously painful. Much like Val’s too-true jokes, they juxtapose familiar irritations with profound mental anguish, but the dark sense of humor belongs to the world of the film itself. There is an honesty here, too, and the viewer’s laughter comes from being confronted with how close these moments seem to ones they may have encountered in their own lives. However, the distance between the characters’ experiences and everyday reality grows as the narrative progresses. Even if it never goes so far as to lose its audience, the movie’s second half certainly suffers for it.

Jerrod Carmichael and Christopher Abbott in On the Count of Three

Intriguingly, Carmichael seems to anticipate this problem in the script and works to counterbalance it by playing several sequences entirely straight. Through his careful use of color and willingness to capture his actors at work, he builds a tone that comfortably allows him to switch from comedy to drama and back again at will. He uses affable, charismatic comedy stars in Haddish, Henry Winkler (playing Kevin’s childhood psychiatrist), and J.B. Smoove (playing Val’s estranged father) against type, deploying them in scenes where the overriding intention isn’t to provoke laughter. In this way, Carmichael keeps the movie grounded for as long as possible, a flex of filmmaking talent uncommonly found in a debut feature. Even if it can’t quite sustain the highs it reaches early on, On the Count of Three‘s success relative to its ambition is truly impressive, and those who aren’t turned off by its very premise won’t regret seeking it out.

On the Count of Three released on digital and in select theaters on May 13. The movie is 86 minutes long and is rated R for violence, suicide, pervasive language and some sexual references.

Our Rating:

3.5 out of 5 (Very Good)


See more

On The Count Of Three Review: A Strikingly Empathetic Black Comedy

Jerrod Carmichael, Christopher Abbott, and J.B. Smoove in On The Count of Three
As expected of a black comedy, a written synopsis leaves little room for humor, though there is plenty in the actual film. Val and Kevin have very different ways of perceiving the world, and even as they are united in purpose, they would clearly choose to go about it in very different ways on their own. Kevin is honest and raw, his pain an open wound he doesn’t hesitate to share with the world, and his habit of crossing lines when he speaks evokes laughter almost as a reflexive response to the shock. Val, meanwhile, is withdrawn and numb, his cynically wry outlook having seemingly eroded any sense of meaning in his life. His observations packaged as jokes can feel both bitingly funny and uncomfortably true. Kevin calls out Val’s stereotypically masculine inability to be open about his feelings; Val pokes fun at Kevin’s tendency to be almost performatively dramatic about his. There is an honesty to the way they prod each other that is the difference between the movie making light of a serious issue, and the characters trying (and often failing) to do so for themselves.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr3’); });

The other main strand of comedy in On the Count of Three is situational, and it is here that the film is comparably less balanced. The movie’s first half contains two sequences, one set during Val’s last day at work and the other involving a chance encounter with someone from Kevin’s past, that are both painfully hilarious and hilariously painful. Much like Val’s too-true jokes, they juxtapose familiar irritations with profound mental anguish, but the dark sense of humor belongs to the world of the film itself. There is an honesty here, too, and the viewer’s laughter comes from being confronted with how close these moments seem to ones they may have encountered in their own lives. However, the distance between the characters’ experiences and everyday reality grows as the narrative progresses. Even if it never goes so far as to lose its audience, the movie’s second half certainly suffers for it.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr4’); });

Jerrod Carmichael and Christopher Abbott in On the Count of Three
Intriguingly, Carmichael seems to anticipate this problem in the script and works to counterbalance it by playing several sequences entirely straight. Through his careful use of color and willingness to capture his actors at work, he builds a tone that comfortably allows him to switch from comedy to drama and back again at will. He uses affable, charismatic comedy stars in Haddish, Henry Winkler (playing Kevin’s childhood psychiatrist), and J.B. Smoove (playing Val’s estranged father) against type, deploying them in scenes where the overriding intention isn’t to provoke laughter. In this way, Carmichael keeps the movie grounded for as long as possible, a flex of filmmaking talent uncommonly found in a debut feature. Even if it can’t quite sustain the highs it reaches early on, On the Count of Three‘s success relative to its ambition is truly impressive, and those who aren’t turned off by its very premise won’t regret seeking it out.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr5’); });

On the Count of Three released on digital and in select theaters on May 13. The movie is 86 minutes long and is rated R for violence, suicide, pervasive language and some sexual references.

Our Rating:
3.5 out of 5 (Very Good)

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1550597677810-0’); });

#Count #Review #Strikingly #Empathetic #Black #Comedy

On The Count Of Three Review: A Strikingly Empathetic Black Comedy

Jerrod Carmichael, Christopher Abbott, and J.B. Smoove in On The Count of Three
As expected of a black comedy, a written synopsis leaves little room for humor, though there is plenty in the actual film. Val and Kevin have very different ways of perceiving the world, and even as they are united in purpose, they would clearly choose to go about it in very different ways on their own. Kevin is honest and raw, his pain an open wound he doesn’t hesitate to share with the world, and his habit of crossing lines when he speaks evokes laughter almost as a reflexive response to the shock. Val, meanwhile, is withdrawn and numb, his cynically wry outlook having seemingly eroded any sense of meaning in his life. His observations packaged as jokes can feel both bitingly funny and uncomfortably true. Kevin calls out Val’s stereotypically masculine inability to be open about his feelings; Val pokes fun at Kevin’s tendency to be almost performatively dramatic about his. There is an honesty to the way they prod each other that is the difference between the movie making light of a serious issue, and the characters trying (and often failing) to do so for themselves.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr3’); });

The other main strand of comedy in On the Count of Three is situational, and it is here that the film is comparably less balanced. The movie’s first half contains two sequences, one set during Val’s last day at work and the other involving a chance encounter with someone from Kevin’s past, that are both painfully hilarious and hilariously painful. Much like Val’s too-true jokes, they juxtapose familiar irritations with profound mental anguish, but the dark sense of humor belongs to the world of the film itself. There is an honesty here, too, and the viewer’s laughter comes from being confronted with how close these moments seem to ones they may have encountered in their own lives. However, the distance between the characters’ experiences and everyday reality grows as the narrative progresses. Even if it never goes so far as to lose its audience, the movie’s second half certainly suffers for it.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr4’); });

Jerrod Carmichael and Christopher Abbott in On the Count of Three
Intriguingly, Carmichael seems to anticipate this problem in the script and works to counterbalance it by playing several sequences entirely straight. Through his careful use of color and willingness to capture his actors at work, he builds a tone that comfortably allows him to switch from comedy to drama and back again at will. He uses affable, charismatic comedy stars in Haddish, Henry Winkler (playing Kevin’s childhood psychiatrist), and J.B. Smoove (playing Val’s estranged father) against type, deploying them in scenes where the overriding intention isn’t to provoke laughter. In this way, Carmichael keeps the movie grounded for as long as possible, a flex of filmmaking talent uncommonly found in a debut feature. Even if it can’t quite sustain the highs it reaches early on, On the Count of Three‘s success relative to its ambition is truly impressive, and those who aren’t turned off by its very premise won’t regret seeking it out.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1535570269372-ccr5’); });

On the Count of Three released on digital and in select theaters on May 13. The movie is 86 minutes long and is rated R for violence, suicide, pervasive language and some sexual references.

Our Rating:
3.5 out of 5 (Very Good)

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display(‘div-gpt-ad-1550597677810-0’); });

#Count #Review #Strikingly #Empathetic #Black #Comedy


Synthetic: Ôn Thi HSG

Trả lời

Email của bạn sẽ không được hiển thị công khai. Các trường bắt buộc được đánh dấu *

Back to top button