Edgy quirky and clever, Marc Meyer’s directed “Human Capital” is a dramatic, twisty, intriguing movie ride.

Starring Liev Schreiber, Marisa Tomei, Peter Sarsgaard, Maya Hawke, and Alex Wolff, the film is based on Meyer’s adaptation of Stephen Amidon’s 2004 novel, which was first made by Italian filmmaker Paolo Virzi in 2013. Oren Moverman wrote the terrific multi layered script.

The super-rich, the wannabe rich, the compromises we all make in work and marriage, all bound together by a hardworking waiter being hit on his bike, and thrown in a ditch while the car drives away on a dark road.  Then the film flashes back to an earlier time and splits into three different parts, each following a different character in their own respective drama and all beginning from the same moment.

Schreiber plays Drew Hagel, an insecure real estate agent who has gambling issues.  His daughter, Shannon, played wonderfully by Maya Hawke, is dating Quint Manning’s (Sarsgaard) son Jamie (Fred Hechinger.)  Oh yes, the family happens to be worth billions.  Drew invests money he doesn’t have with Quint which goes south quickly.  Marisa Tomei wonderfully plays Quint’s wife Carrie, an embittered former actress who lives a life of luxury but is completely unhappy.  So, she buys and renovates an old theater in their chic suburban neighborhood, hires her board of directors including a professor, played by Paul Sparks, who is a fan boy of hers.

Looming all along like a cloud hovering, is the hit and run accident. Meanwhile Shannon falls for the more rough and tough Ian (Alex Wolff) fueling a melodramatic romance there.  And the drama continues.  What makes this film so alluring, besides the social commentary, i.e.: the rich and their rules vs the non-rich, is that it all weaves together making “Human Capital” a provocative, compelling and totally enjoyable film. Audiences will eat it up!

(WARNING MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS)

Joaquin Phoenix received cheers and a standing ovation tonight in Toronto for his starring performance as the “Joker.” Todd Phillips’ origin story of Batman’s villain is super violent but also a magnificent comic book opera. The movie’s look and feel are extraordinary and the acting from all the players is top notch. The story owes its life to two Scorsese movies, “King of Comedy,” and “Taxi Driver.”

Arthur Fleck (the Joker’s real name) is part Rupert Pupkin and part Travis Bickle. Ironically, Robert De Niro is here, too, playing a Jerry Langford type talk show host, the character Jerry Lewis so famously portrayed in “King of Comedy.”

The Scorsese samples aside, director Phillips’s film on its own is the story of a misfit, a loner, in the early 1970s. Fleck is clearly saddled with mental problems and a rich inner of imaginary success and a girlfriend (the very very good Zazie Beetz). But he’s plagued with taking care of his ailing mother, the sweet Penny (also excellent Frances Conroy) who– we learn in a bit of Batman revisionist history– once worked for millionaire Thomas Wayne.

And that’s where the non Scorsese plot kicks in: Penny believes that she and Wayne had a relationship that produced Arthur. Is it true? Or is it a fantasy? Whichever is the case, Arthur’s lack of a father and his hatred for the world he cannot access– successful, happy people– is what fuels his psychosis and his unrepentant violence.

The violence is extreme. That’s a warning to those who will need to shade  their eyes a couple of times when Arthur just snaps. Phoenix’s Joker is not Cesar Romero’s or Jack Nicholson’s or even Heath Ledger’s. He is deranged. He commits the worst crimes imaginable without thinking twice. He is cracking jokes, but ones only he thinks are funny. That’s important to know, going in. He’s not trading quips with Adam West.

Still, the physical production of the film is so full of art and wit, the violence can be put aside. Phillips has lots of little gracenotes that the audience will love, be on the lookout for them. (There’s one that we can talk about after the movie opens.) Phillips has made an origins story movie but it’s also a standalone, so “Joker” functions on many levels.

As for Phoenix, he is the odd duck of his generation, but he’s also kind of a genius. He’s uniquely gifted. I’d say this is his best work, but he’s had so much of it. You will be shocked by his weight loss in this movie. Arthur is emaciated to the point  where Phoenix contorts his body, much as he did in “The Master,” so that his mental pain is expressed in the physical.

But this is acting. Don’t mistake Phoenix, who’s back to normal weight now and very funny in real life, for Arthur Fleck. His ability to breathe life into these strange cinematic creatures can’t be underestimated. They reside in a stratosphere of originality.

And oh yes, Best Actor (because that’s all anyone’s interested in these days)? He’ll be there, leading a list that so far includes Michael B. Jordan, Leonardo DiCaprio, Adam Driver, and possibly Christian Bale, plus names to come. But Phoenix is at the top. The standing ovations are real.

Now we know why Constance Wu wanted to get off the boat last spring.

Remember in May when ABC renewed “Fresh off the Boat” and Wu, the female lead, Tweeted her disappointment that she was stuck on board for another season?

We thought it was because of her hit, “Crazy Rich Asians.” But now we know that Wu is a movie star thanks to Jennifer Lopez’s “Hustlers,” which debuted to raves on Saturday night in Toronto. JLo is great, and she’s the draw but Wu anchors the movie and does the real heavy lifting. She’s fun to watch, and can make a nice career on the big screen. Her “boat” character may go overboard sooner than later!

“Hustlers” comes from STX Entertainment, which has struggled to make its name. But now STX can breathe a sigh of relief. “Hustlers” is the movie every studio wants– a big, broad hit that’s also well made and smart. For STX “Hustlers” follows last winter’s “The Upside,” which took in $100 million and proved its naysayers wrong.

Lorene Scafaria has made the first movie about strippers that isn’t just an exploitative vision quest for guys. That’s not to say there aren’t beautiful women here, enough to bring in the male audience. But based on a magazine story, “Hustlers” actually conveys these women as shrewd business people who take control of their lives at the expense of the men who’ve used them for so long.

Scafaria uses a voice over narration and some editing that will remind you of Scorsese in “GoodFellas” but it’s not an imitation, but more an influence. In that sense “Hustlers” could be the sex workers’ version of “Wolf of Wall Street.” But the film also owes a lot to “9 to 5” and “Oceans 8,” among other all-female ensembles.

Lopez and Wu lead their group of former strippers on an adventure to make money by all means necessary. In the movie version, it’s pretty much sexless, with the ladies drugging Wall Street guys, and stealing from their credit card limits. Did they not have sex with them in real life I don’t know. But in Scafaria’s Hollywood dream, the women never get to the bedroom stage. They just take the money and run.

Lopez does the best work of her career, certainly miles beyond her many cheesy prior roles. She’s also part of an ensemble and isn’t required to carry the film. This helps enormously. She’s surrounded by a strong cast that includes Oscar and Tony winner Mercedes Ruehl and the excellent Julia Stiles as the journalist who writes the women’s story and lends gravitas to the proceedings.

Don’t worry– this isn’t a business lesson. There’s lots of pole work, with an especially good teaching scene given by Lopez’s Ramona. Maybe there’s a body double and very good editing, but JLo at 50 is pretty hot, and hats off to her. However Scafaria filmed those scenes, Lopez deserves kudos.

Awards? The Golden Globes should welcome “Hustlers” with open arms. But for now, watch the box office do its own lap dance when this movie gets to audiences.

Since the screening last night of Taika Waititi’s “Jojo Rabbit” at TIFF, I’ve seen some unusual responses to it on Twitter. For some reason, internet fans really wanted this Hitler satire to work. It doesn’t. “Jojo Rabbit” is actually borderline anti-Semitic, offensive on many levels, and not even funny.

The parallel here is not “Life is Beautiful,” the 1998 movie about a clown who entertained his child while they were in a concentration camp. That movie took the Holocaust seriously, and made no case for Hitler and his atrocities. It was clearly an indictment.

No, Waititi, who is half Jewish and comes from New Zealand, seems like he was aiming for “Springtime for Hitler” redux, a long riff on Mel Brooks’s centerpiece from “The Producers.” But “The Producers”– which was hilarious– didn’t denigrate Jews to make its point. Hitler and Nazis were always the target.

“Jojo Rabbit” is set in Germany during the late 40s. Jojo Rabbit, a 10 year old boy played very nicely by Roman Griffin Davis, is being raised by his mother (Scarlett Johansson) under Nazi rule. The kid is presented as a virulent Nazi wannabe, trying to emulate the soldiers in town. He talks incessant slurs against Jews to the point of distraction.

When we see the actual screenplay, this will be even more obvious. It’s not comical. It’s not funny, or humorous. Little Jojo hates Jews. Meantime he’s engaged with Nazis in a kids’ training camp led by Sam Rockwell, and again, it’s not funny. I know it’s supposed to be, but it ain’t. I don’t need an hour of Nazis making fun of Jews constantly. It’s overkill. And just seeing a Nazi office break a rabbit’s neck for fun doesn’t mitigate what’s going on.

Listen, the audience in the Princess of Wales theater laughed a lot during this section. I don’t know why. This was not a send up of Hitler, even though the director plays Hitler as Jojo’s imaginary friend. Waititi’s Hitler is sort of like the the one from the Broadway musical “Producers”– foppish, funny, self-involved. He really reminded me of the late Gary Beach, plucked from the proper context and plopped into the wrong one.  And even that makes no sense since Jojo idolizes Hitler, yet his imaginary friend is a comic send up.

Anyway, all of this changes when Jojo, home alone, discovers an Ann Frank-like Jewish girl hiding in his mother’s house. This girl, a teen named Ilsa (talented Thomasin McKenzie), who resembles Anne Frank and is meant to change Jojo’s feelings about Jews, you know, make him realize they’re not so bad. After all, his mother’s been hiding her in a secret cupboard all these years without telling him.

At this point, Johansson exits the movie, leaving the kids on their own to survive the American bombing and rescue of their town. By now, the anti-Jewish rhetoric has calmed down because Jojo is “in love” with Ilsa. But the damage has been done, and not just to the village but to our sensibilities. We’ve endured a lesson for hate mongers. Waititi seems to not know he’s played with hot potatoes.

Not many people will see “Jojo Rabbit” in theaters, I don’t think. The moviegoing audience should and will feel incredibly uncomfortable sitting through an hour of explanations of why Jews are monsters and animals and so on. I worry more about cable and streaming, where content spews forward without context.

Let’s say Waititi really felt he was satirizing Hitler and Nazis, that he’s not anti-Semitic. But this is what he’s disseminating. He’s handing ideas and language out uncritically to a new generation of kids, who will laugh like the people in the Toronto audience and applaud new ways of expressing hate.

So, yes, the acting is great, the kids are talented, and the last half hour of the movie gets sentimental. Jojo’s imaginary Hitler is conquered, and the two kids face a brave new post-Nazi world together like nothing ever happened. I don’t get it. I’m sure the Twitterverse I’ve read today will think I’m out of it. But I say, wait til this movie gets into theaters. Let the audience decide.

Horror film addicts never tired of being scared. You’d think the daily news cycle would be enough.

Yet, the success of “It: Chapter Two” suggests clowntime is not over. The sequel to “It,” the remake of Stephen King’s hit novel and movie, made $37 million in its debut Friday with $10 million from Thursday previews.

The movie is eying $103 million for the weekend. That’s quite an accomplishment  in what has been a sluggish box office year. Warner Bros. can relax. Mixed reviews- a 66 score on Rotten Tomatoes– didn’t deter the faithful.

Can there be more “It”? I suppose there can be more of anything, really. Stephen King is probably looking through his notebooks as we speak.

Meantime, Warner Bros. is on a roll. So is Sony. As we always discover, it’s all cyclical.

So much news about Destin Daniel Cretton’s “Just Mercy,” which played last night in Toronto to standing ovations and will be an Oscar nominee for Best Picture.

Warner Bros. has in its collection of films this season a film some have been calling the “Green Book” of this year. There is some but not a lot of accuracy there but “Just Mercy” concerns civil rights in a way that this past year’s Best Picture winner only glanced.

In  1986 a young Harvard trainer lawyer from Delaware named Bryan Stevenson went to Alabama to work with men unjustly placed on death row. One that stood out was Walter McMillan aka “Johnny Dee,” who’d been railroaded by the local police into a conviction for a murder he couldn’t have committed. Stevenson even managed to get the key witness, one Ralph Meyers, to recant his testimony and still could not get a new trial for McMillan. It was when he went to “60 Minutes” that light was shone on this debacle of justice. McMillan finally was set free.

Cretton’s film tells this seven year horror story so effectively that even though you can guess the ending you will nevertheless cry when Jamie Foxx’s journey as Johnny Dee comes to an end. The  journey is everything, as Michael B. Jordan, as the crusading Stevenson, holds fast to his ideals and integrity, never letting go until he reaches his destination. Jordan is lead, Foxx is supporting, and these two are like superheroes without capes. “Just Mercy” feels in many ways like “Rocky.”

There are also two supporting performances that won’t get awards, but should be rewarded and cited as memorable and indelible. In many ways, the whole movie rests on the work of Tim Blake Nelson, who sells us the redneck, horrid Meyers as the linchpin of Stevenson’s re-opening of McMillan’s case. Nelson brings a humanity to a grizzly little man with beauty and grace. The same can be said of Rob Morgan, who plays Herbert Richardson, another man on death row whom Stcvenson tries to help. Morgan, who made such an impression in “Mudbound,” and works on TV continually, lends the film a textured gravitas and a deeply devastating moment.

Now, Oscar winner Brie Larson is in this movie, in a secondary role as the  white woman in Alabama who assists Stevenson, takes him in, sets him up to run his office. It’s not a big role, but Larson is helping out Cretton, who gave her her big break in “Short Term 12,” the wonderful indie film that also launched Rami Malek. Larson makes the most of her job, and she’s always a delight to see on screen. If this movie had been made 10 or 20 years ago, her character would have been the point of view.

The real Stevenson, who’s only about 60 now, will become the focus of the  publicity for the movie. He remained in Alabama after this episode to continue fighting for the wrongly convicted and poorly represented. This is amazing, and he deserves all the praise he gets. (I don’t want to hear one word against during Oscar campaigning.)  His work reminds me of Tom Mesereau, famous for being Michael Jackson’s defense attorney, who has worked in Alabama for years doing the same thing pro bono.

What I don’t understand is why anyone of color still lives in Alabama. It is boiling pot of racism, violence, and hatred. There is no redeeming feature of this state. A hurricane might be the solution after all. During my lifetime the only stories that have emerged have been about redneck whites harassing or harming black people. Every new movie like this is so important to illumine our embarrassing history in the South.

We’ve reached the point in this miserable culture where everyone including the very smart actor Dev Patel hears the words “David Copperfield” and thinks it’s the Las Vegas magician. Patel, star of the wonderful new “Personal History of David Copperfield” said as much last night on stage at the Princess of Wales Theater in Toronto after Armando Iannucci’s film debuted at the Toronto Film Festival.

Just about everyone in the audience and onstage felt that way, too.

Thank goodness for Iannucci, the creator of “Veep” and the director great satires like “In the Loop” and “The Death of Stalin,” knew better. He said he read Charles Dickens’ 900 page novel and immediately decided to make a film that emphasized, not cut out, the humor in the story of an orphaned lad from a classy background who is dumped into the real world and must make it on his own.

Iannucci’s version of “DC” is so splendid, fun, layered, and smart that I urge Fox Searchlight to issue it in time for the Oscars rather than waste it next winter. Iannucci’s movie is destined to be a masterpiece I think, it’s so fresh and unique, able to entertain on many levels at once. It’s actually a very subversive family film, perfect for the holidays.

There’s a little Monty Python and a lot of the Marx Brothers, even some Buster Keaton, as Iannucci and his team deconstruct David’s crusade to become something other than what people project on him. As he continually reminds everyone around him, “I am David Copperfield!” and not the myriad personas his various new friends assign him.

After his single mother is overtaken by a greedy, stupid husband (and his sister, played gloriously by Gwendolyn Christie), David is sent to work with other child laborers in a bottle factory in London. He’s taken in by a colorful, eccentric poor couple, the Micwabers (Iannucci regular Peter Capaldi, Bronagh  Gallagher) who kick off what you could call a super contest for Best Supporting actors.

Just about overtaking them in this spirit are Tilda Swinton and Hugh Laurie as David’s nutty rich aunt and her own daffy cousin, Mr Dick. again, how to choose who gets what award? They are all so deeply enjoyable and genuinely funny, it’s hard to say. Into this mix comes Ben Whishaw, playing the timeless villain Uriah Heep with such glee there’s mayhem in his eyes. These people must have had a dangerously good time on the set, and it’s all conveyed here.

“David Copperfield” is just a delight, and will pick up awards attention not just for the actors, the precisely constructed script, and directing, but all below the line categories as well. There are magical moments of production design, editing and cinematography that would make Las Vegas’s Copperfield jealous. And don’t discount Dev Patel, who started with us on “Slumdog Millionaire” more than a decade ago and has never let up being ingratiating and a pleasure to watch on screen. He makes it look easy. Bravo to him!