Andy Digger-Rockwell 🪏

Sir Patrick Stewart died yesterday at 86. His death brought me to Green Room (🌟🌟🌟🌟). In this film, and in his 86 years on this planet, Stewart was a force of nature. You don’t need to know him personally. Hell, you don’t even need to know his name. When you hear Patrick Stewart’s voice or see him on screen, life gets marginally better. Maybe not by much, but enough for you to notice - for you to feel it. That’s what all great artists have in common: they make life at least a little better. And at a time like this, in the wake of a true artist’s passing, all I can do is express my gratitude for the work left behind.  There are many great things about Green Room, but at its core, this is a great story. A touring punk rock band called The Ain’t Rights takes a trip upstate in Oregon to the backwoods. Why? The answer to all your questions in life is money. The band needs cash & taking a gig for a bunch of skin heads in the middle of nowhere is their only option. But the crux/conflict/fulcrum of this story is that while the band is finishing up their set, they witness the murder of a young girl. That changes absolutely everything. The band is now held hostage by said-skinheads & their leader, Darcy (Patrick Stewart). Thus begins a hostage situation in which The Ain’t Rights have to fight their way out of - you guessed it - a green room, where they’re being held.  The story’s number one strength is its unpredictability. Once The Ain’t Rights witness the dead young lady & are locked in the green room, the pace sky rockets & everything becomes unforeseeable. Mix in some violence, some drugs, and a few plot twists, and you have a story that pushes forward with incredible intensity. I can say safely that the last hour of the film had me totally enthralled. I was 100% committed to the survival of the band & their quest to find an escape from the green room.  The young actors who make up The Ain’t Rights are all excellent. I’m not a Callum Turner fan but he’s good here, so is Alia Shawkat and Imogen Poots, who plays the best friend of the deceased young lady. But none better than the late Anton Yelchin. Boy, is he excellent in this movie. He’s the de facto leader of the band, acting in opposition to Darcy, and his performance is thrilling. I think Yelchin’s acting heightens the anxiety & brings the audience closer to the emotions The Ain’t Rights are experiencing. It’s important overall to this film that these young actors work well together & they all nail it. I was really impressed by the young ensemble.  But at day’s end, this film is about Sir Patrick Stewart as Darcy. It speaks to Stewart’s audacity & boldness as an artist that after all his years of Shakespeare & all the profound roles he took on, he was willing to play an absolutely disgusting, racist monster in his 70s. What a role. What a decision. It’s not just that Stewart decided to make this film so late in his career, it’s that he knocks it out of the park. Every last word that drips out of the corner of Stewart’s mouth weighs 100 pounds. You feel the weight of every last line. When Stewart’s Darcy makes a threat, you fucking believe it. He’s a total menace here & it’s a side of Stewart I wasn’t familiar with until this point. It’s just another reminder that when we lost Stewart yesterday, we lost a man who could move mountains. Fuck. I’m really going to miss this guy.  Lastly, my desert island? Michael Jackson.