Review: "The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Him/Her"

Director: Ned Benson
Runtime: 189 minutes

Usually, when producers and filmmakers have different ideas on how to edit a film, the victorious side tends to be taken as gospel among the movie-going public. The losing version is either relegated to a special edition DVD, or is never seen again. However, for first time director Ned Benson, the journey has been more rewarding. After premiere his two-film drama The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby - two back to back films that cover the events and perspectives of different characters - he was forced to created a combined version, subtitled "Them." Luckily, just over a month after Them arrived in theaters, Benson's original design, subtitled Him and Her, has been given a life of its own outside of the festival circuit. Even though Benson's admirable passion project isn't without faults in its original form, Eleanor Rigby: Him/Her is still a striking character piece that resonates in in unexpected ways as it traverses well-worn terrain.

One has to wonder if there wasn't some plot to start Him/Her's release on the same weekend that Showtime's promising new drama The Affair premieres. Benson's film and the cable channel's TV show operate on similar levels, despite some differences in tone and execution. Him/Her and The Affair (more true of the latter), utilize the Rashomon method of storytelling, with events being replayed multiple times from different perspectives, with key details changed or omitted. 

Yet when it comes to replaying scenes versus filling in the gaps of opposing points of view, the two take radically different approaches. Benson's film(s?) does its best to avoid dramatic redundancy, instead crafting two films that intersect at a select few moments, but otherwise tell very different stories. 

Him opens with a memory of the early, carefree days in the life of Conor Ludlow (James McAvoy) and Eleanor Rigby (Jessica Chastain). The young couple spend the delightful opening sequence in a near constant state of newfound romantic joy. They run down dark streets, make out in the park, and watch as lightning bugs put on an impromptu show before their eyes. And then the present day arrives, and those moments of ecstatic happiness are wiped away like steam from a mirror.

Long before definitively revealing the tragedy at the center of Him/Her, Benson - working on a meager budget - handles the shift from jumpy past to solemn present with what can only be called elegant bluntness. The change in mood is instantaneous, and even though we don't know the ins and outs of what's happened in the interim, Him/Her still gets the point across that Conor and Eleanor aren't quite who they used to be. In the first 10 minutes, we see Conor and Eleanor in drastically different emotional places, and McAvoy and Chastain's restrained work conveys the months, even years, of hardship in a manner that speaks volumes. 

Though stray lines of dialogue feel a bit baroque for the gritty style, Benson's writing is largely effective at capturing what makes his leads click, even if the answers are a little on the broad side. Conor is more determined to keep moving forward, pouring his energy into his flailing bar. Eleanor, on the other hand, can't shake her recent trauma, and comes to the conclusion that the only way out is to tear her self down and start from scratch. Both exemplify different parts of a fascinating spectrum of human behavior that occurs in the face of truly shattering heartbreak. To tap further into this, Benson utilizes silence in a way that is absolutely crushing. Scenes - mostly for the better - seem to take place in a vacuum, even though much of the film takes place in Manhattan.

Combine this with Christopher Blauvelt's murky visuals, and Him rather quickly develops an all-consuming gloom, despite the flashes of humor. Though consistently well-acted by McAvoy, Chastain, and the rest of the ensemble, Him ultimately emerges as the weaker of the two-part puzzle. There is no mystery to Conor's actions, and therefore almost no sense of discovery in anything that happens in his side of the narrative. Conor's interactions with his semi-estranged father (Ciaran Hinds) are repetitive, adding little of value to the psychological dimension of the film. We wait for Eleanor to make her brief appearance in Him solely because they bring us just a little closer to what most of Conor's story dances around. Despite running 11 minutes shorter than Her, Him often stagnates thanks to Benson's commitment to an unwavering, funereal sense of pace.

Once Him goes through its final fade to black and Her begins, Eleanor Rigby really starts to come to life. The weighty silence is still there, but it's countered by Eleanor's livelier encounters with her sister Katie (Jess Weixler) and her wealthy, withdrawn parents (Isabelle Huppert and William Hurt). Real life friends Chastain and Weixler, despite their very different looks, are ideally cast as sisters. Watching them comfort each other or share a laugh over a stupid joke is the sort of thing that compels one to stick with Her. Then, of course, there's Chastain's performance, which is as complete and acutely observed as any of her other recent performances. After blasting out of the gate in 2011, the actress continues to impress, able to draw one in without manipulatively tugging at heartstrings.  

Put simply, Him is the question and Her is the answer. The former exists mostly to allow for the latter to fill in the blanks, and expand on what we thought we knew. Conor, like the audience, is left trying to piece things together and see through Eleanor's opaque new persona. By contrast, in Eleanor's scenes with her family or her new professor (Viola Davis), the films make actual, observable headway in terms of realizing the scars on its characters' collective psyches. Mr. McAvoy is excellent, but the ordering of the films ultimately leaves him with less to do. A climactic scene in Him belongs to Chastain's painful confession. When Her revisits the same scene, Eleanor's confession only hits harder, while Conor's reaction achieves no greater impact. 

This issue extends to the dual narratives as well. By the time Her finishes, Him is left fighting a losing battle for relevance in the grand scheme of the story. It makes for a solid set up and secondary story, but the balance ought to have been tipped much more heavily in Her's favor. Benson has insisted that the two parts should be able to exist separately or be played in any order, but to do so seems unwise. 

Whatever its faults, when Eleanor Rigby works, it tends to soar. The oppressive mood can be numbing, but when Benson zeroes in on a particular moment and unpacks his characters' emotions, the film becomes more than just a gritty-looking downer. It can be a difficult watch (though it's nowhere near as searing as something like Blue Valentine), but deep down there's a glimmer of realistic, measured optimism at the film's core. Like Rabbit Hole, Eleanor Rigby wants nothing to do with easy answers and notions of getting back to an idealized sense of "how things used to be." It's about confronting the past, so that we may move forward. The shadows of trauma always linger, but that doesn't mean that it's impossible to shrink them by letting in a little light. 

Grade: B/B+

Review: "Filth"

Director: Jon S. Baird
Runtime: 97 minutes

Above all else, Filth is a testament to the range of Scottish actor James McAvoy. He first came to prominence as a sweet little faun in the first Narnia film, and has since played doomed lovers (Atonement) and superheroes (X-Men) with equal skill. Yet none of the actor's previous work will prepare you for what he pulls off in Jon S. Baird's adaptation of Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh's novel about police corruption. While it's (hopefully) far too early to call McAvoy's work the performance of his lifetime, it sure as hell sets the bar quite high. There is, sadly, a tradeoff. In order to see James McAvoy be so brilliant in Filth, you have to actually watch Filth the movie. 

Great performances surrounded by lackluster films are nothing new, to be sure. Just a few years ago, Javier Bardem delivered stunning work in Biutiful, which was otherwise a sluggish, empty drama. Yet maybe the boredom that came with Biutiful wasn't so bad after all. Filth likely won't leave you bored, but that's because it's trying so hard to be edgy and outrageous, when it's mostly just cruel and vile, even though it's not noticeably more graphic than similar films. 

Though not nearly as big in scope, Filth is something like a Scottish answer to last year's The Wolf of Wall Street. This time, however, the corrupt figure at the center is a policeman, rather than an investment banker. That policeman is Bruce Robertson (McAvoy, complete with oily hair and scuzzy ginger beard), who is desperate for a promotion. Said promotion, according to an oddly theatrical intro scene featuring his wife Carole (Shauna Macdonald), will help put the spark back in their marriage. The couple aren't exactly struggling, but they're in the midst of a ritualistic sex game of sorts, with Bruce's work life currently functioning as the playground. All Bruce has to do undermine his co-workers, at any cost, in order to make himself the clear choice for the job. 

Yet just as Bruce's boss spends more time thinking about movies than policework, you'll soon find part of your mind wandering elsewhere. Filth has a little bit of naughty fun with Bruce's inner monologue at the outset (particularly his views on the Scottish people), but it runs out of fun or interesting things to say not much later. This is the sort of cinematic provocation that walks a fine line between vivaciously portraying wicked behavior and actively condoning said behavior. Sophomore director Jon S. Baird generally avoids falling into the trap of supporting Robertson's commentary, which includes homophobia, misogyny, and buckets of crassness. 

Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that Filth gets away with having its dirty little cake and eating too. The plotting weaves murkily between exploring Bruce's vices and his undermining of his coworkers, without much of an arc really emerging. The career stuff really gets the short end of the stick, and what could play out as a set of wicked games is left to laziness (ex: Bruce writes homophobic graffiti in the office, assigns blame to someone else, looks noble...the end). 

The work subplot is ultimately just more fodder for the film to show Bruce's depravity. In fairness, Baird gets that across well enough, especially when he visualizes the inside of the character's head. But, despite a running time only half of The Wolf of Wall Street, Filth starts to flounder as it heads down the tar-black rabbit hole. The brunt of the film's psychology is withheld for the sporadically nightmarish final act, which feels lazy, rather than shocking. The ugly, blue-hued visuals certainly don't add anything to whatever atmosphere Baird and Co. were aiming for.

Literally the only worthwhile part of the enterprise is McAvoy, who is placed front and center throughout all of the muck and grime. Though the material is often frustrating, McAvoy takes the scant initial details and absolutely goes to town with it. Others would have drowned in the ugly quagmire at the film's core, but McAvoy smashes through it, making every naughty grin and sadistic freak out feel effortless. He'd send the rosy-cheeked heroes of Narnia (and maybe even a few of the monsters) fleeing for their bedrooms. Meanwhile, the rest of the talented supporting cast are left with little more to do than act oblivious, or fall prey to Bruce's spell.

Though the final act does introduce some compelling psychology to the bad-boy mayhem, it feels desperate, rather than earned. In the hands of someone like Martin McDonagh (In Bruges), a story like Filth could have been a brilliant, warped, and ultimatelty devastating look at mental illness and unchecked immorality. Instead, the mental illness piece of the puzzle is wielded as a blunt instrument in a last ditch effort to make Filth "about" something, even as it provides the viewer one last faux-edgy kick in the final frames. Inside Bruce Robertson's head is a fascinating, albeit disturbing, character and story waiting to be unlocked. Filth, unfortunately, is little more than Mr. Baird and Co. going through the motions as they intermittently fumble with the keys. A performance as good as the one McAvoy turns in here deserves a far better vehicle. 

Grade: C-/D+  

Review: "X-Men: Days of Future Past"

Director: Bryan Singer
Runtime: 131 minutes

At once a sequel, prequel, and complete narrative overhaul, Marvel's X-Men: Days of Future Past certainly hasn't been shy about its ambitions. With casts from the original trilogy and 2011's First Class, returning director Bryan Singer, along with a plot involving time travel, Days of Future Past seemed like an unwieldy entity. After leaving the X-Men franchise to direct the leaden Superman Returns and the flat Valkyrie, Singer's return to the director's chair was understandably met with hesitation. Yet he and writer Simon Kinberg (atoning for the mostly awful X-Men: The Last Stand) have avoided running Marvel's prized mutant family into the ground. While the franchises of the various Avengers heroes are clearly Marvel's top priority, Days of Future Past returns the X-Men to their glory days. This is more than a step in the right direction. It's a full-blown resurrection, with plot, spectacle, and drama all skillfully woven together. 

This is most impressive when considering the important of time travel to DOFP's narrative. There are always plot holes that crop up when time travel arrives in a story, so it's important to manage everything else smoothly enough so the stakes get more focus than potential story-telling paradoxes. Singer, clearly reinvigorated by returning to this world, shows that he knows how to handle this world better than those peers that have sat in during his absence. Working off of Kinberg's smooth, straightforward screenplay, Singer and editor/composer John Ottman are able to keep things moving along beautifully, without every leaving key characters in the dust. 

That last bit is of special importance in this film more than any other X-Men adventure. Though we see plenty of mutants across the 131 minute duration, many are just there to fill the screen. Don't expect to learn more about the likes of Warpath (Booboo Stewart) or Fan BingBing's portal-creating Blink. They, along with several others, are just here to fill out the story's framing device which is this (take a deep breath): After Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) kills anti-mutant scientist Boliver Trask (Peter Dinklage), the world's governments pour money into Trask's Sentinel Program. The Sentinels are large, adaptable robots that, a la Skynet, eradicate mutants and their genetically mundane allies. With the future now a bleak dystopia, Prof. X (Patrick Stewart) and Magneto (Ian McKellan) come up with a last ditch plan. With help from Kitty Pryde (Ellen Page), they will send Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) into the past to reunite the young Xavier and Magneto (James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, respectively) to stop Mystique's mission, as well as its increasingly devastating consequences.

Once all of the time-travel mumbo jumbo is hashed out via's Stewart's effortlessly commanding voice, and Wolverine wakes up inhabiting his body as it was in 1973, the film really comes to life. Despite all of the VFX involved, Days of Future Past is never careless when it comes to digital trickery. The story and the quartet of Jackman, McAvoy, Lawrence, and Fassbender are the real draws here, and Kinberg gives each role enough room to breathe. While it's frustrating to see Page's role hollowed out (in the source material, she was the one who leapt back in time), the story's four leads and their various conflicts are still compelling. 

Rather than retread old ground, the first half of the film plays like an inversion of the very first X-Men (2000). Here, Wolverine has to step back and be both mediator and leader, roles he was in no way ready to take on when he first joined the X-Men. Meanwhile, young Charles Xavier is a depressed, alcoholic mess who has lost his way. Beast (Nicholas Hoult) has healed Xavier's legs, but the cost has been his tremendous psionic powers. Even though Wolverine is able to make Xavier believe his outrageous time travel story, the latter hardly feels like reconnecting with his mutant roots.

Though Jackman's Wolverine has always been a central part of the X-Men movies, his role reversal is a smart choice, and he and McAvoy play off of each other quite well. There are still traces of the cynical mutant's past in Jackman's performance, but here they're held back for the sake of urgency. McAvoy, meanwhile improves on his already impressive performance from First Class as the film's mentally shattered version of Xavier. The actor's vulnerability and desperation are given the weight needed to make us care, without digging so deep as to turn the film into a pretentious existential drama. 

Things only get better as Fassbender and Lawrence enter the fray. The former remains perfectly suited as the dogmatic Magneto, while Lawrence brings more genuine spark to Mystique than she did in First Class, where she was occasionally flat. Special mention should go to Evan Peters as the ultra fast Quicksilver, who is given just enough to be an enjoyable addition without leaving the film overstuffed. His part in the story is brief, but critical, and it allows Singer and co. to use Quicksilver's powers as part of the film's lightest, most enjoyable set-piece. Unlike the extra mutants in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Quicksilver's guest appearance here is superbly integrated, and it ends just in time to get back to the four established protagonists.

Every one of them has an agenda, yet the streamlined plotting ensures that motives remain clear without grinding the film to a halt. Days of Future Past is always moving, yet it never feels rushed outside of the exposition-heavy opening. The blockbuster it best calls to mind (and not simply because of the time travel aspect), is the 2009 reboot of Star Trek. The JJ Abrams film had a lot going on, yet kept its characters grounded amid all of the flashy effects to deliver an experience where the drama was earned, and therefore resonated. 

Backing up Singer's handling of the story and his main stars are some of his slickest, liveliest direction to date. Eschewing the rather bland color palette of most Marvel films, Days of Future Past is much more visually engaging than the standard summer tentpole. Newton Thomas Siegel's photography, especially in the 1973 scenes, is rich and textured, and lends an extra bit of believability to the fantastical premise and characters. He and Singer also have a bit of fun capturing some of the mutant action on 70s era cameras, further grounding us in a time period where the mutants stand out even more than they do in the present or future. Production designer John Mhyre, whose stacked resume includes superhero flicks and glittery musicals, does a stellar job with sets without going overboard.  

And then, of course, there are the visual effects. Though some elements are more cartoon-y than others (the future versions of the Sentinels), most of the VFX work is superbly handled. It only ups the stakes and the grandeur, rather than taking focus away from the story and characters. Even in the finale, which is filled with some truly massive effects (as well as hefty cross-cutting between past and future), the story's over-the-top emotional core stays front and center. 

Like last month's Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Days of Future Past succeeds because it bucks two major trends found in big-budget spectacles: being overly glib so that no drama interrupts the spectacle, or trying so desperately to be dramatic that all fun is squeezed out. Though Days of Future Past does reset the chessboard for the franchise, it still works as its own self-contained (albeit open-ended) adventure, one with an engaging story and engaging characters worth following. What could have been a jumbled, incoherent mess is, thankfully, one of the most assured and accomplished superhero films to date. As much as the franchise has stumbled over the past few years, Days of Future Past shows that when they're on their A-game, the X-Men are among the best in the business.

Grade: B+

Review: "Welcome to the Punch"

Director: Eran Creevy
Runtime: 99 minutes

Lean and stylish, yet ultimately hindered by mundane writing, Eran Creevy's Welcome to the Punch is the latest in a long line of similarly-themed British crime thrillers. Creevy's sophomore directorial effort has a strong cast and a nice, understated energy. However, it hits far too many familiar beats as it attempts to increase the complexity of its plot. At best, Punch is a showcase for Creevy as a director, even as it makes it painfully clear how much progress Creevy needs to make as a writer.

Opening with a nicely handled chase sequence, we're introduced to hotheaded cop Max Lewinsky (James McAvoy, cast refreshingly against type) as he tries to thwart a massive heist led by Jacob Sternwood (Mark Strong). Yet Sternwood escapes, and Lewinsky is badly wounded. Three years later, Sternwood returns from his exile in Iceland after the mysterious death of his son. As Lewinsky seeks revenge on the man who ruined his career, both men find themselves gradually uncovering a deeper conspiracy in the London police force. 

Right off of the bat, Welcome to the Punch moves with an elegant and controlled momentum. Creevy's dialogue in the early stretches is often sparse, but packs a few nice exchanges (mostly between McAvoy and co-star Andrea Riseborough as a fellow cop). On the opposite side of the story, Strong anchors his scenes effortlessly. When the two male leads face off, it's usually Strong who commands the screen, as solid as McAvoy is in such a different role. Supporting roles, namely those played by Riseborough and Peter Mullan, are also well handled, and lend the film a sense of polish that often transcends the limitations of the screenplay. 

Yet, as is typical with narratives of this strain, the film starts to stumble once the plot becomes more complicated. Creevy's navigation through the various and sundry forces on both sides of the law eventually grow muddled and simplistic, and undercut the more tightly-plotted opening reels. By the time the end credits begin, Welcome to the Punch is already starting fade. It has little more to offer than visuals flooded with shades of blue, and some efficient, stylishly-handled shoot-outs. Even the action, however, becomes a bit numbing in the final act. One late-in-the-game sequence, which builds terrifically, ends with so much slow-motion and Inception-esque BRRMs that it borders on self-parody. 

These two sides of the film clash more and more, and prevent Welcome to the Punch from even being a satisfying and straightforward action-thriller. The efforts of the cast and Creevy (as director), are ultimately squandered on material that is too shallow for its own good. Still, the film does mark Creevy as a talent to watch behind the camera. His sense of style is mostly successful here, and he gets solid work out of his cast, even as they're let down by his writing. But there's a difference between potential and execution, and Welcome to the Punch showcases too much of the former, and not enough of the latter, to be worth the time unless you're getting it in the mail from Netflix and have time to kill.

Grade: C+/C

Review: "X-Men: First Class"

Forget what they've been telling you. Turns out it's not the third time that's the charm, but the fifth. At least, that appears to be the current trend in past-their-welcome Hollywood franchises. It's already happened once this year with Fast Five (the series' only film to earn mostly positive reviews), and now it's happening again with X-Men: First Class, a prequel/origin-story/reboot of the mutant superhero franchise.

After two generally liked films, the X-Men franchise quickly took a nose dive with X-Men: The Last Stand (2006) and X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009). And even though there still appear to be plans for a (hopefully much better) Wolverine sequel, FOX apparently felt that it couldn't hurt to cash in on the prequel/origin trend a little further, taking us all the way back to the 40s and 60s. After an opening eerily reminiscent of 2000's X-Men, involving a young Erik/Magneto (Michael Fassbender) in a German concentration camp, we begin a fairly lengthy bit of globe trotting. In one story thread, we see Magneto become something of a Nazi hunter, while in a second, we see a young Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) and Raven/Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) recruited by a CIA agent (Rose Byrne) to examine the sinister Hellfire Club. Originally thought to be a Communist infiltration of America, it's actually run by Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon), a mutant himself, who is determined to use the Cold War to bring about the annihilation of non-mutants.

And despite a certain lack of surprises (we already know which major characters must live), Matthew Vaughn does manage to inject some style, and in turn new life, into the franchise. The 60s interior designs are richly filled out, in settings ranging from Charles' mansion, to Shaw's nuclear submarine. There's also some surprisingly good cast work. McAvoy and Fassbender are standouts among the ensemble, as two men with gradually differing opinions on what it means to be a mutant living among humans. Fassbender ultimately wins out, if only because the script eventually surrenders McAvoy's role and makes him little more than an emotional support for Fassbender's. Yet the two do have a great chemistry, and it's a shame that the film doesn't give us more of their relationship in its attempt to cover so many characters and set-up points. The way the film deals with Magneto's struggle to harness his powers produces some truly effective moments, but it's hard not to feel that there could have been a much grander, more emotional pay-off if said struggle wasn't stuck on the the end of a training montage.

And it's that montage, which comes right before the film's Cuban-set finale, where we can see some of the film's problems start to surface. First Class has a great initial stretch, up until Magneto and Charles finally meet, and a thrillingly put together final half hour. These bookends to the story effectively jump across locations and characters, establishing conflicts and executing fight scenes with a nice sense of clarity. Everything in-between, however, is not quite so consistent. Despite a golden 5 (10?) second cameo, the round-up and training of the young mutants is where everything gets a bit choppy. Not surprisingly, character struggles aren't exactly the most three dimensional. They exist for a little, and then YAY they're solved. Only those issues connecting Charles, Magneto, and Mystique have any real staying power, and despite some nifty powers among the ensemble, I wish they had taken more time to focus on this trio. For every good character interaction, there's something a little cheesy or clichéd. These usually aren't big issues, but they put some dents in the film's armor.

And as good as some smaller cast members are (Nicolas Hoult as Hank McCoy/Beast), others are, well, not. Case in point: January Jones as Emma Frost. As beautiful as she looks, the actress seems totally out of her league here, once again enforcing the notion that her work as Betty Draper on Mad Men is the only good performance she'll ever give. Less of a distraction, though perhaps a tad puzzling, is Rose Byrne as Moira McTaggart. In Byrne's case, the fault may lie more with the writing. Either way, though, for someone who is supposed to be tough and supportive of the X-Men, she has one too many scenes where her character is simply wide-eyed and astounded. It makes her look weak, and even stupid, despite her status as a CIA Agent. That said, at least she gets some chances to act, whereas many in the ensemble are just there. Azazel (Jason Flemying), a red-skinned mutant with a tail and the ability to teleport is more of a cool effect than a character. He still fares better than another henchman of Shaw's, who can create tornadoes, yet never gets a single line.

For all of its little faults, however, Vaughn and co. do deserve credit for restoring quality to a franchise that had taken a serious tumble. In putting more emphasis on exploring (some of) the characters, he's able to inject some scenes with a sense of purpose. When Magneto lifts a submarine clear out of the water, it's more than just a special effect. It's a moment of triumph for the character, one that is built upon his ability to master the trauma of his past. Scenes like this show First Class at its best, and what the series is capable of when some real effort and talent is behind the material. So while this latest installment may be far from perfect, and certainly not the best super hero film, it's a solid (re) kickstart to the franchise, even if it doesn't quite reach its full potential.

Grade: B-

First look at Robert Redford's "The Conspirator," and an adjustment for Damon's "Bureau"

It's about time. One of 2010's elusive period-piece Oscar hopefuls has finally come out of the shadows; IMDb provides the following premise:

Mary Surratt is the lone female charged as a co-conspirator in the assassination trial of Abraham Lincoln. As the whole nation turns against her, she is forced to rely on her reluctant lawyer to uncover the truth and save her life.

The film doesn't yet have a specific 2010 release date, though obviously it's being saved for the fall/winter to give it a bigger push for awards consideration. At this point, I'm not even sure if it's finished filming, so it could be a while before we even start to get some buzz on this project. I wasn't a big fan of Redford's Lions for Lambs (2007); I hated it to the core except for Streep and Cruise. However, this project, based on its cast (maybe McAvoy can finally score that first Oscar nomination?) and subject matter, has me intrigued. More will be posted as it arrives...and hopefully that won't be TOO long.

In other news, word has it that the Matt Damon/Emily Blunt pseudo-sci-fi thriller The Adjustment Bureau has been pushed from July 30th to September 17th. The post on Deadline Hollywood was only a list of Universal's upcoming releases and their current release dates, so there's no info as to why this delay has happened. Considering the lack of trailer, the film could either not be far enough along in post-production yet, or could be in need of a major reworking, which would be a shame considering the talent involved.