What you love about Tarantino The Hateful Eight has more of. What you hate about him, well, this has more of that too. Violence. Offensive language. Indulgence. By now, you know your mileage on the famously controversial filmmaker—this won’t be the movie to change your mind. This is his second western following Django Unchained, but where that movie’s brush strokes ran wide, The Hateful Eight has a more delicate, thoughtful touch, almost as though spending time in the genre gave him the confidence to do something more daring and ambitious, Tarantino has got his eye on the prize. Whatever missteps he makes here they’re on the path to righteousness. The Hateful Eight is the deepest, smartest, bloodiest, and best directed movie of Quentin Tarantino’s career. Managing to act both as violent grindhouse exploitation and measured allegorical storytelling, these victories that don’t stop it from lingering way too long on weaker sections. Sometimes The Hateful Eight lacks the sparkling, beautifully rhythmic dialogue for which Tarantino is known—uneven, this is two shakes of a lamb’s tail behind his best work.
Some time after the Civil War, a group of eight grizzled gunslingers are caught in a White Walkerian blizzard and seek shelter in a Wyoming haberdashery (a cross between a general goods store and side-of-the-road motel). Hints of Reservoir Dogs abound, it’s as if he experimented with extending the famous bar scene in Inglourious Basterds to three hours. Patience is required, and I suspect some will be turned off by the asked effort on the part of the filmgoer. The Hateful Eight is many things: an atmospherically-enhanced psychological thriller; a sad satire of American prejudice and ideology; a cinematic pressure cooker that gets hotter and hotter ‘til it finally blows. The calm and loquacious first half methodically lays track for a full steam ahead train of pure paranoia and tension. One or more of these eight men aren’t who they say they are, making this a demonicial game of “Clue” that eventually takes you to blood, bath, and beyond.
The suspects are as follows:. Kurt Russell does his best John Wayne impression as John “The Hangman” Ruth, a bounty hunter who always brings in his bodies alive. With him is his bounty Daisy “The Prisoner” Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh), and they’re soon accompanied by Major Marquis “The Bounty Hunter” Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), stuck in the snow and in need of a way of getting to Red Rock, the closest town. More Tarantino alums are waiting for them at the haberdashery: Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern, and Walton Goggins. Following tense introductions and passing accusations, the fuse is lit.
Along with Reservoir Dogs, John Carpenter’s The Thing is an obvious centerpoint of influence. Beyond casting Kurt Russell as John Ruth, Tarantino also gained the esteemed employ of the legendary Ennio Morricone. Coming out of retirement for The Hateful Eight is a major get, and this the first Quentin Tarantino to have an originally composed score instead of his usual hip-hop influenced sampling of various artists. Morricone’s haunting, ominous music doesn’t recall the best days of spaghetti westerns but helps set an ominous tone that seems to sink right into your skin and fester. Pairing Bob Richardson’s massive widescreen vistas of the devilish blizzard with the soft, creepy strings of the score, The Hateful Eight has a thick atmosphere that really puts you in the place.
More than any of his previous movies, Tarantino gloriously celebrates the movieness of movies. With a roadshow version that starts with an epic overture of swelling music like the movies of yesteryear (Lawrence of Arabia, for example), an intermission, and a gorgeous 70mm frame with some of the best photography of the year. The Hateful Eight is his longest, talkiest, most novel or theater-friendly work, but every second is a joyous, gigantic, beaming exclamation point. Movies fucking rule, okay. Every inch of the 70mm super wideframe photography is rich with color and appears almost like liquid. When studying the wrathful face of Samuel L. Jackson in super high resolution celluloid, acting becomes a better special effect than anything in Star Wars.
It hasn’t been since Jackie Brown, almost 20 years ago, that Tarantino has seemed so considerate and thoughtful behind each and every choice. As Paul Thomas Anderson said of the movie, what’s so hard about filming in small spaces is that the director has nowhere to hide. Seemingly on a creative high, Tarantino’s sixth sense for how to turn a single room into a visual and audial fireworks show is simply remarkable. Sure, he cuts to the usual David Lean style vistas to bookend isolated talk-offs, but it acts as an urgent reminder that cinema is all about knowing when to go big and when to stay small. Watch how he carefully choreographed the wide frame so there would always be one, two, three or even four characters lingering in the background.You can’t trust any of them, and yet, like deadly phantoms, they engulf almost every shot.
None of the actual hateful eight emerge as a classic Tarantino character, a major flaw in a movie built around big baddies. However, while cartoon and caricature, this band of untrustworthy, evil characters develop a depth unique to this filmmaker’s filmography. Instead of hyperbolizing every side of a conflict to the obvious extreme—look to Django in Django Unchained being a one note vigilante with a free pass to be “killin’ white folks” while Calvin Candie was a pure-blooded racist so obviously evil he’s dressed like a devil—there’s a sensitivity here absent in Tarantino’s other movies. Rhetoric used around the Civil War sounds depressingly close to headlines today, and Tarantino is unafraid to confront a black character (Sam Jackson’s Warren) with a racist Confederate general (Dern) and show shades of who these characters are as people. Their humanity is not dismissed, however heartless or cruel these men and women are at their cores.
Likewise, when the ethics of justice are explored, that is, the merits of ‘frontier justice” versus the justice of “civilized society”, John Ruth falls easily to the latter. All the same, he doesn’t hesitate to crush Daisy—a woman—in the face. Immediately, our buttons are pushed. She’s a gross villain, but if played by a man instead of the magnetic Jennifer Jason Leigh, we wouldn’t bat an eye. However, his propensity to violence doesn’t stop Ruth from unshackling her to eat meal with dignity. Dialogue calls attention to our notions of gender and race throughout the film, and ultimately, how our biases destroy other people as much as they destroy ourselves. This, the movie powerfully argues, is the essence of America today. Tarantino isn’t scared to make us uncomfortable, and playing in greyscale instead of binary black and white is what lets him do it.
B+
]]>As a piece of professional film criticism, this is not the review you are looking for. From my deeply and lovingly biased, unfairly optimistic, shaking in my theater seat point of view, Star Wars: The Force Awakens will delight just about everyone. Visceral, tactile, lived in, and largely taking place in the dark ages of the Star Wars universe—we have crossguarded sabers, suits of old-school armor, sci-fi castles on planets that could pass as mainland Europe, and an evil group you might as well call the Knights of the Ren Table—it’s clear producer Kathleen Kennedy set to make the latest “A Long Time Ago in a Galaxy Far, Far Away” correct every perceived wrong of the prequels. If you’re a new fan, buckle up. If you’re of the old guard and a lifelong student of Star Wars, prepare for emotional overdrive.
J.J. Abrams, the safest, least imaginative choice possible to write and direct the new movie, uses nostalgia as a currency with a high turnover rate. Co-written with Lawrence Kasdan (The Empire Strikes Back), we start on a desert planet suspiciously similar to Tatooine called Jakku, a post-battle junkyard filled with the wreckage of the more memorable ships from the original trilogy. It’s almost as if Industrial Light & Magic threw all out the miniatures from Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi and they all ended up scattered around this planet. Rey (Daisy Ridley), a scavenger whose last name is kept from us with a wink, wears a rusted X-Wing fighter pilot helmet, gazing out into the gorgeous sand-dune photography that might make you label the first act “Rey of Arabia.” Let me put this up front: Ridley steals the movie. She’s a star.
We start with a bravura opening sequence that shocks with how many plates J.J. can keep spinning at once. The first few minutes deftly, swiftly, and effortlessly introduces the heroes, the villains, the latest versions of the cyclical battles of the Rebel Alliance and The Empire, what the stakes are in the galaxy, and it even ends with the plot’s Macguffin barreling out into the desert. And once Oscar Isaac delivers so much charm as Poe Dameron, a hotshot pilot for “The Resistance,” you’re powerless to resist. You’ve now accepted the nostalgia buyout. You’re now in the hands of J.J. Abrams. You’ve turned to the dark side. Luckily—no, they don’t have cookies—J.J. has never been a stronger filmmaker than he is here, and his visual literacy is on a level previously unseen in the scattered images of Star Trek.
Opening in such an exhilarating, go for broke fashion couldn’t be more Star Wars; the wild ambition of most entries is a defining attribute of Lucas and company, for better and worse. Equally Star Wars-y is the less-is-more approach to the story. In medias res and with only a few lines of dialogue for key plot and character points, this is a movie utterly confident in itself—The Force Awakens doesn’t stutter in its swagger. Lines like “There’s been an awakening” are left unexplored, puzzle pieces we’re left to ponder as lightsabers are drawn and conflict mounts. Once the full vision begins coming into view, which for me took two viewings and ample post-screening discussions, there’s a beautiful intricacy to the overall construction that’s honestly pretty elusive on a first viewing. When thinking back, dots will connect that in retrospect should have felt obvious, the hallmark of an enveloping story. Who, what, when, or how I won’t dare say, but Star Wars hasn’t truly captured a truly urgent sense of discovery since 1980. Until now, that is.
It doesn’t violate the J.J. Abrams mystery box to tell you Rey is whisked off on an adventure with Finn (John Boyega), a defecting stormtrooper unlike any character in the franchise. With Finn’s briefly revealed upbringing in mind, he’s a blank slate, a sponge, and he courses through the movie seeing trying out the shoes of different hero types, hoping one will fit. He’s essentially playing with archetypes of mythic heroes, and for those of you who take George Lucas’ Joseph Campbell mythic storytelling approach to Star Wars seriously, this is a brilliant take on the subject. The Force Awakens doesn’t merely pay homage to the the ships and characters of Star Wars, but also the themes that powered these movies from the start.
Finding the heart of this sacred series is no easy task, but harder still was knowing what to invent and what to keep the same. While The Force Awakens colors inside the lines of the original trilogy’s shadow a little too much, this is very much a movie of its own design. There’s a surprising amount of sophistication under the familiar hood, most exemplified in the impossibly delicate handling of the Darth Vader-obsessed evil Kylo Ren. It’s not just the emotional complexity of Adam Driver’s classic performance that sells the character as series-best stuff, but how he’s designed to bring everything full circle—he’s got Anakin Skywalker’s hair from Revenge of the Sith, a mask modeled after Darth Vader’s, and a never-before- seen crossguarded saber. He fetishizes the past so he can become something new. He’s the connective tissue between the prequel trilogy, the original trilogy, and now these new movies, and the weight of carrying on the mantle of Star Wars is felt heaviest on Ren, who seems to struggle with it internally as a character as much as we might as an audience.
He’s a fantastic villain even aside from the intentional meta-narrative built around him, and ingeniously is every bit as vital to the emotional center of the story as Rey and Finn. These three are the movie’s real main characters, casting a wide powerful sprawl of emotion through the movie’s quick two hour and fifteen minute running time.
A lot of that emotional sprawl is, well, sadness. Underneath the light tone that at times might seem too self-referential and jokey is actually a hidden heartbreaking tale of generational divide and collapse. More Ozu than Kurosawa. In a movie of lost children, orphans, and broken bonds, the great plot twist of The Force Awakens—no spoilers—is that it’s not entirely the Episode IV action-adventure it seems on its shimmering surface. It’s a revisionist A New Hope with a heart transplant. This is a character piece. Most everything else fades, almost oddly at parts, into a haze of background noise. It’s not been since The Empire Strikes Back that Star Wars has been so human. Some of the dialogue pricks the nose and there’s one too many seeds planted for future episodes, but otherwise the beautifully put together script sings. Using the classic Kasdan theme of hubris as a superweapon, The Force Awakens isn’t scared to deconstruct the classic heroes while it questions the new ones. Fan service this is not.
Harrison Ford’s perfectly played Han Solo, essentially a co-lead, struggles to hide emotional wounds that account for his sad state when we finally meet him. Finn, despite the supernova charisma of John Boyega, is a lost soul in need of an identity. Strong, self-reliant, family-centered Rey is equally lost. That the undercooked central plot fizzles makes all too much sense with this in mind, and battling CGI X-Wings and Tie Fighters supplement the character moments instead of the other way around. The lack of too many memorable action beats (although there are a few) hurts but can almost be forgiven due to being in service of something greater. Here, Sure, there is a lot of ‘action’, probably the most the series has ever had, but there's only a couple sequences constructed around the action, as in set pieces, as opposed to character-driven scenes that happen to have action around it.
The daring, almost talky focus on character over plot and action feels both modern and old-fashioned, an update that amounts to more than a new paint job. Star Wars has never been this immediately emotionally compelling, fronted with a diverse set of characters played to perfection by the best overall cast to lead a picture in this 30+ year-old franchise. Uneven pacing and annoying coincidences maim the first two-thirds of The Force Awakens to a degree, but it’s in the final act that we blast to hyperspace and touch the trails of greatness of the very best episodes.
B+
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This review was originally published on Liveforfilms.com
For fans expecting hard edged espionage, a Tinker Tailor Soldier Spielberg, adjust expectations accordingly. Light in tone and laced with comedy—a machination of the Coen Brothers’ contributions to Matt Charman’s screenplay, no doubt—Bridge of Spies shares the same broad entertainment as last year’s spy movie The Imitation Game. Instead of Alan Turing and code deciphering spy games, Bridge of Spies credibly recreates the cold war tensions of the 1950s. Two spies, the downed spy plane pilot Gary Powers (Austin Stowell) and Russian agent Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance), an undercover on American soil, are set to be swapped. With relationships between the United States, Russia, and East Berlin coming to an intense boil, the stakes are high: if this deal goes badly, it could mean nuclear war.
To facilitate the delicate trade in East Berlin is aw shucks and the American Way Tom Hanks, playing the smart and swift insurance lawyer James Donovan—a character so folksy, innately patriotic, and kind spirited that in the same way Ethan Hunt is indistinguishable from Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks is perceptually inseparable from James Donovan. Only Tom Hanks can command the needed level of believable optimism for Donovan without missing a beat, and his shoulders, proverbially made of red, white, and blue, muscle through this disjointed, uneven, but nonetheless engaging movie.
Sadly Spies isn’t just similar to The Imitation Game in their shared interest in pleasing an audience—a goal they’re pretty good at—but in the exact way that they go about it. To the frustration of historical purists, each movie reduces a morally complex, tragic story into what ultimately boils into feel-good fun. This is all the more inexplicable in how, in the case of Spies at least, the rest of the movie’s style vividly clashes with the serious subject matter (an incoherence especially obvious next to Janusz Kaminski’s grim, monochrome cinematography) as well as next to darkest moments of the script—including a massacre of a family (politely) filmed from afar. Life around the Berlin Wall was prolifically brutal. This is a dark story in which Spielberg has turned the lights on, an error that no amount of snappy direction can forgive. For the world’s most famous and loved director, one persistent flaw is how so many of his movies struggled to finish on the appropriate note, like the contrived uplift endings of Minority Report or War of the Worlds. Bridge of Spies extends this widely-written-about flaw to the entire movie.
Whip-pans in tone are a chronic issue, alternating between physical comedy, stoned faced discussions of bureaucratic red tape, and the mildest torture scenes this side of a Reservoir Dogs, and back again with seconds in between. The effect keeps Spies interesting but notably on wobbly ground—shifts in tone are more like slamming on the breaks than effortlessly changing gears, a jarring effect only rectified in the well calibrated final act. Also holding back Spies is a marked lack of development for any character beyond Donovan and Abel, whose relationship is rich and complex, and Rylance gives a powerful understated performance to compellingly foil Hanks’ talky charm. They are the soul, the lifeblood, and the heart. The rest of the cast are fine but forgotten, namely American spy Gary Powers himself. With the cold war itself abstract and psychological, obscuring the stakes from direct conflict to indirect threats, I can’t imagine something worse for a movie that’s entirely about saving an American spy than having that very American spy be a vague character in a vague war.
Similarly without the characteristic depth of Spielberg movies, Spies proposes hints of ethical quandary when the particulars of the trade are called into question. You wonder who deserves to be traded more than whom, and why, and how one calculates ethical probabilities around which spy did or didn’t talk to which government (something, perhaps, perfectly suited for an insurance lawyer, whose day job is to calculate projected unknowns). However, the drastic optimism of Donavan’s character amounts to whitewash bought and paid for, which when applied by Spielberg with a paint roller that’s both wide and thick, those questions stop from lingering too long. The moral ambiguity around the trade might interest you—it does not, however, interest the unwavering, resolute, determined golden moral core of James Donovan. What could have been parabolic to the war in the Middle East is now merely a good man stuffed into a situation in which he doesn’t belong, an unwavering light in a web of shadows.
It must be said, though, that he is the easiest type of character to root for, and doesn’t for one second seem stupid or simple. His sense of right and wrong initially presents itself in the first third of Spies, where he proudly stands as Abel’s defense lawyer, even while the American people are unsympathetically portrayed as McArthurist biggots and slander him and his family. And, also admittedly, the Everest height of his moral high ground amazingly doesn’t make him a one-noted soap box for moral blubbering. We meet him executing the same lawyerly double talk he uses on Berlin and Russia to expedite the trade, and his talent for talking his way in, around, and through people’s heads—a Machiavellian maneuver for the greater good—is sometimes riveting to watch.
While there are indeed spy games, including the terrific cold open that’s one of the best sequences of Spielberg’s career, Bridge of Spies is more of a courtroom drama that went on a bad vacation. Donovan’s mastery of rhetoric begins from his first scene and continues all the way to East Berlin, proven by an unusual kind of plot hole. While framed poorly and confusingly implemented, what seems like a plot oversight at first isn’t a plot hole at all—it’s simply Donovan using his pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword tongue to slash through foreign diplomats. He’s talking around the heads of these guys so effortlessly our heads get talked around a little too, but Hanks plays it with enough overt confidence that we believe in him anyway.
So, in lieu of the courtroom-on-the-go shape of Spies, what we don’t have are the intricate plots of John Le Carre or the propulsive pulp of AMC’s The Americans. Instead, it’s Hanks winning as Donovan, Michael Kahn’s adventurous, circuitous editing—like a slow fade of one spy on the left hand of the image to another spy taking up the right side—and Spielberg’s masterclass in film craft. Following up his beautiful restraint on 2012s quiet but powerful Lincoln, he exercises the same careful control over his camera, the edit, but most of all the sound. Bridge of Spies might have fewer raised voices than Lincoln. This is a hushed sort of film, one where its hero almost never raises his voice and the stately tone slowly allows the story’s power to creep up on you, naturally and with care. For that reason, the climax rallies. Uneven beginnings make way for a resonant finish.
B
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The Assassin will begin playing at the Music Box Theater October 30th
Watching The Assassin is like when you’re driving at night through fog so thick you can’t see the road, and maddeningly, you’re stuck driving 15 miles per hour. The Assassin moves roughly as fast, its characters as cloaked in darkness, and its plot that cloudy. But, also like a midnight road engulfed in fog, The Assassin is beautiful. And it is. Celebrated Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-Hsien uses a myriad of gorgeous, nearly ethereal locations around China that suck you into its otherworldly zone. With a plot so abstract that it makes the ending to 2001: A Space Odyssey seem over-explained, this is one of the least accessible but nevertheless rewarding martial arts movies ever made.
The Assassin, which was awarded best director at the Cannes Film Festival, seems like an odd fit for the formalist ambitions of Hou. It’s an entry into the genre of wuxia, the ancient Chinese tradition of stories set around deadly assassins, here set in 9th century. And an odd fit it is—not one second passes where The Assassin could be mistaken for anything other than a Hou Hsiao-Hsien film; meaning it is quiet, contemplative, and slow as a snail. Kill Bill this is not. Action junkies beware, the trailer is an empty promise. The Assassin has less onscreen action than a common episode of Family Feud. When blades are drawn, it’s bloodless, visceral, but most of all, quick. As a master assassin doing her deadly work, she slices into her targets with effortless speed.
More than one action scene unfolds 50 feet from the nearest camera with no temptation to cut closer. Violence simply happens, and the staple long-take photography in Hou’s work empowers the relationship between physical action and the space it occupies. Even in the case where trees hide the intensely choreographed action, the camera’s gaze remains unphased. It stays still, watching.
In what many will call a miscalculation, Hou’s as uninterested in plot or character as he is in action, at least in any conventional sense. In a movie that might have been more aptly titled Crouching Tiger, Hidden Plot, it will take a collective effort of multiple people with multiple disciplines to piece the story together. Required is a Sherlockian postmortem just to put together the most basic elements of the plot, which is an exhausting and abrasive as it sounds. In both the materials given to the press and in interviews, Hou criticized Hollywood for its reliance on exposition, and does nothing if not rebel against a cycle of explanation plaguing mainstream movies. Until nearly the end, everything having to do with the story is forced to the periphery. On the sidelines. Benched. In a movie light on dialogue to begin with, the motivations of the characters are annoyingly handled as third-act revelations. The Assassin works in reverse.
This much is clear and it’s not much: a nun abducted Princess Nie Yinniang (Shu Qi), and what once was an innocent girl now is a master assassin. Political leaders are the primary targets, revenge for the murky backstabbing that divided “the Court” of the region. In a moment of awakened humanity, she can’t complete a kill; the political leader’s son is present. As punishment and to cleanse her of compassion, she’s to target people from her past. Upon arriving, even there she waits, choosing to linger in the shadows, observing, watching, but never acting. Not until her mind is right. A lengthy town meeting discusses politics and familial issues, but in typical Hou fashion, none of that matters. What does matter is revealed as the camera delicately pans up, and up, and up to the ceiling, where Yinniang absorbs the scene below, hidden in the rafters and draped in black. Again, the temporal and spatial realism of a scene is what we’re immersed in, anything but the senseless squabbles of petty lords.
Hou hoped reversing The Assassin’s narrative info dump from front to back would spark the viewer’s imagination, chasing an audacious new form of extreme realism. A minimized plot and truncated action scenes force viewers to, on a purely psychological level, immerse themselves in the drama in a way you or I might not be used to, much less like. A masked rival assassin appears twice, and her identity is never revealed. Who is she? As we’re forced to mentally unravel these mysteries in real time, Hou pleasures your senses with transportive sights and sounds that engulf you entirely.
The Active Realism of The Assassin is a dual method attack—the sumptuous visuals, like the way rose-colored curtains move in sync with the actors on a beautiful, historically vivid set, or the sounds as Hou’s camera stares at a small trickling stream next to a castle, these are what hit you head on and not, paradoxically, the plot or the action, which come entirely from the sides and from behind. Mountains and green pastures and mist, so, so much mist, and castles, and perfectly made period costumes, are what is most immediate. They are what suck you in, and it’s what makes the rigorously detailed world a pleasant, even joyful place to occupy for two hours despite the intentionally acerbic handling of the story. It’s only in the oddly retrospective plot, one assembled in your mind’s eye as the film finishes and the hours afterwards, does the full, impossible painting of The Assassin come into view. As details join together and subtleties are accounted for, only then does the startling emotion emerge and its magnificence beyond question.
B+
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Every other minute of the The Walk’s 121 minute running time screams at you at the top of its lungs, through a megaphone wired into a 20,000 watt speaker system loud enough to cause mild deafness while forcing your ear physically against the speakers in question, that “the Walk” that gives the film its title is the most amazing work of art in the history of art. Sorry, Aaron Sorkin, Steve Jobs no longer reigns as king as the talkiest movie of the year. Stuffed wall to wall with hackneyed, overbearing, sentimental, arrogant self-aggrandizing dialogue that reminds you constantly what the movie is about, and how amazing it is that it’s about that, if you came in at any point before The Walk’s jaw-dropping final 45 minutes, where Robert Zemeckis gorgeously and thrillingly recreates Frenchman Philippe Petit’s (Joseph Gordon Levitt) 1974 daredevil walk using a thin high wire between New York City’s Twin Towers, you wouldn’t have missed a thing.
To say The Walk has voiceover is the understatement of the millennium. If you’ve ever dreamt of a French-accented Joseph Gordon Levitt’s voice buzzing in your ear for two hours with all the distracting verve of an overcaffeinated bee, no film is more meant for you. The voiceover, which isn’t a voiceover so much as a bizarro-land framing device, is ceaseless. It doesn’t stop. When Petit begins his level one flirtations with his French beauty love interest (Charlotte Le Bon in a thankless role), we don’t linger in the scene to let chemistry build or their charming conversation. No. We hear the chattering blabber of his voice addressing not her but us. The Walk begins with a lofty sermon by Petit on the nature of love and life and art, his art, perched on the flame of Lady Liberty and framed with New York City in the background. It’s this framing device that intrusively pops almost every bubble The Walk gets going.
All the more miscalculated is the gross frequency we return to his senseless pontification. Every key emotional beat of the movie—such as his romantic meetings, regular meetings, his ‘origin story’, and, cripplingly and head scratchingly, the walk itself. Just when he steps onto the metallic high-wire that’s a dizzying distance from the ground, as vertigo steps in and our bellies drop, and in jaw-dropping IMAX 3D, boy, do they, Zemeckis makes the fatal error of returning to Petit’s direct address babble.
His movie has amongst the most impressive visual effects and digital mastery since 2013’s Gravity, and sadly Zemeckis doesn’t have the courage to let them speak for themselves. But they are amazing. New York City has been recreated in CGI with Levitt mostly on a green screen soundstage, and while the film never achieves the photorealism of Gravity, the effects communicate a powerful sense of reality even if it’s not completely our own. Filmed with deep-focus photography that will cause thousands of sweaty palms, the ground, the sleek walls of the Twin Towers, and crucially, Levitt in all black as Petit, are all startlingly clear within the same shot. As the camera impossibly cranes around him and nothing is left to our imagination, the deathly drop least of all, it becomes all too evident Zemeckis has committed a heist of his own—he has stolen our breath away.
Indebted to the dazzling Man on a Wire that won best documentary in 2008, The Walk is the Ocean’s 11 of high wire acrobatic movies. Man on a Wire framed Petit’s walk as a heist, and most of this movie’s running time is spent accumulating various “accomplices.” There’s the loyal photographer, the mustached inside man (who provides the team with access to the top floors of the Twin Towers), the criminal, and the cowards. Petit himself is an unabashedly unlikable leader: he rides a unicycle, juggles, mimes, and worst of all, loves to get in people’s face while doing all of the above. He puts his art on a pedestal—almost literally in the case of his wire—and his incessant narcissism and arrogance, which is part of what powers the ambiguous ethics of his walk, sometimes makes him impossible to tolerate.
During a key moment of The Walk, Petit throws a tantrum for needing to wear a v-neck instead of his preferred turtleneck. He’s annoying in all the wrong ways, and for better and worse, being kind of a childlike prick is an intentional part of his character; he apologizes to his crew for being tough company, an apology that surely extends to us. In a bit of meta-narrative, just as his “accomplices” nevertheless support him and indulge in hero-worship, Petit is meant to ultimately win us over. He’s brazen, has death-defying courage and a hard-wired determination to place aestheticism, beauty, as the highest goal of goals. The mileage may vary on how redemptive that ultimately proves to be, but the film’s final 45-minute run, the caper and the “walk,” is a joyous celebration of all things cinematic. Gorgeous images, ‘90s era sentimentality, and a swelling score bring to mind all things people mean when using the phrase movie magic. The Walk might not always keep its balance, but it still lands a mean finish.
B
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]]>Creative vision is amongst the departed in this highly disappointing high body count mob movie that never amounts to anything at all. One of the tricks of Martin Scorsese, reigning supreme of gangster movies, is how his movies always seem to have way more action than they actually do. Most of Goodfellas, the graphic, sadistically violent, parents-censored Goodfellas, is actually mainly just people talking. In rooms. In restaurants. In cars. The punchy dialogue, vibrant characters, and smart direction sizzle with such intensity they almost seem to explode, stealing your breath and catching your gaze. Likewise, nobody will challenge how well Quentin Tarantino can write a bomb-under-the-table scene only entirely through dialogue. But they are masters of their craft. Director Scott Cooper is neither Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino and spends no time imitating either, which could sound like a compliment that he has a singular identity if it weren’t that Black Mass didn’t have any identity at all. This movie has less personality than the ordinary chair I’m writing this review on.
Black Mass uses the real life source behind Scorsese’s above-punned film The Depa(h)rted, the fascinating real life story of a Boston mobster kingpin and his controversial relationship with the FBI. In essence—and I assure you this isn’t a spoiler even if it sounds like one— he became an FBI “informant,” or what he smugly labeled an “alliance.” James “Whitey” Bulger, played with stunt casting by Johnny Depp, promised to give the FBI the Italian Mafia in exchange for carte blanche on his own crew. Brokering the deal is FBI agent and childhood friend John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), who over-ambitiously uses Bulger to rise through the ranks of power at the FBI himself. With them is Bulger’s brother, Senator William Bulger, who Benedict Cumberbatch plays with one of the worst Boston accents in cinema history.
In what could be called a bold creative move, many scenes of Black Mass don’t use the crazily melodramatic score by Junkie XL in attempt to use silence as a source of much needed tension (the movie doesn’t have any). Rather than building a sense of danger or suspense in these scenes of silence, what came to light was a sad confirmation of what I was already feeling: in the empty sound of the theater, I heard yawns, sighs, and people restlessly adjusting in their seats. The audience was bored. I was too. The plot, which mostly follows a scattershot unfolding of random scenes and events that, to the best I can piece it together (insofar as much as movies such as Black Mass can motivate deep analysis), have absolutely nothing to do with each other beyond sharing the same actors playing the same characters. On the absolute broadest level, this follows crime movie basics of the rise-and-fall story, only the twist is we never really see the rise or the fall.
Bulger goes from a small time hood to head of all of Boston’s crime, but we’re never shown how or why. The ins and outs of Bulger’s supposedly sophisticated crime system remain as much a mystery to me now as they did going into the theater; Black Mass stays on the surface-most level of the story. Things are confined to dimly-lit bars or FBI office rooms, spitting at us through wooden expository dialogue, i.e., we’re repeatedly told through dialogue what characters think, feel, or what they are doing instead of actually showing us. By having everybody tell us what they have done or will do instead of what they actually are doing, present tense, the movie’s momentum falls into a black hole of empty nothingness. “Show don’t tell” is an overused filmmaking platitude, but the lesson never suited finer ears than those of Scott Cooper and his screenwriters.
Similarly, Bulger’s characterization half humanizes and half paints him as a psychopath, but neither are mined enough for convincing rewards. Depp’s motivated but uneven, playing warmth an ounce too cold or coldness a smidgen too warm, effectively selling the persona and the presence but not the man, a huge problem in a movie where he’s the nucleus. Connolly is the real protagonist as the FBI informant trying to use Bulger, and—apologies for playing armchair screenwriter—a tighter story around him with Depp on the periphery would likely be been more compelling.
But in an exciting twist, what the trailers haven’t told you is that Black Mass is actually a genre-mashing combo of A Song of Ice and Fire, Underworld, and big time gangster movies—the only acceptable explanation for Depp’s hilarious prosthetics. They include crystalline blue eyes and the skin of a powdered doughnut. Depp doesn’t just play a crime lord, but a crime lord that’s a white walker and/or vampire and ready to attack the Wall and/or drink all your blood. Buckle in your seat belts, kids, a popular theory on Reddit is that he’ll be in Season 6 of Game of Thrones.
Sadly the creative misfires never stop coming. Shockingly, only a few scenes in the unending two hours actually work, and when they do, it’s always cheap tension around whether or not Bulger will fuck shit up. Never mind whether or not Cooper develops a memorable set piece, since even things that sound cool on paper are directed as uninterestingly as possible.
In what should’ve been a visceral sequence, a motorcycle-riding hitman pulls up next to a stopped car—with its window down. Quickly drawing his gun, the hitman fires into the car, murdering the man inside. Perplexingly, it’s angled so the motorcycle and its driver obscure a good view inside the car. We can’t really see inside; therefore, any effect the scene was designed to have is missing. In another lackluster crime movie with the same scene setup a la motorcycle man with a gun—after all it’s a genre favorite—is this year’s The Connection, which had the good sense to position the camera facing both vehicles. Suddenly with that simple change, the visual clarity amplifies the gunshot’s impact. Every scene of Black Mass follows the same formula, keeping the camera at a distracting angle, obscuring with blue-infused shots that keep things needlessly wide and in the way. The whole movie is this way. Black Mass is, in other words “How to Not Make A Mob Movie For Dummies” that’s now for sale at your local theater.
F+
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]]>Bringing back the science in science fiction, The Martian is a joyous plea into the pit of space and a celebration of the glowing power of human ingenuity. More or less a love letter to nerds everywhere, science and math play co-lead as the heroes, a very pleasant sentiment for any Hollywood blockbuster to have. Following a long line of similar “you can do it” movies from The Right Stuff to Apollo 13, this is the optimist’s guide to the galaxy. Serving as a triple hit of mainlined serotonin, famed director Ridley Scott’s latest movie hits all the notes of big screen, breezy, credibly cheer-worthy entertainment. While not rich in themes—the titular character doesn’t contemplate his existential place in the universe—as one of the most likable, easy to recommend movies of the year, The Martian is quality mid-brow fun demanding to be seen on the biggest screen possible.
Comparisons to Cast Away and Gravity are both inevitable and appropriate. Mark Watney (Matt Damon) is part of a diverse crew, made up of actors Jessica Chastain, Michael Peña, Sebastian Stan, and Aksel Hennie, and in a scene that recalls a storm in Prometheus, they’re consumed by a deadly Martian storm that seemingly manifested out of nowhere. Effective but unnecessary 3D effects sing in this early storm sequence—rock and debris consume the frame with scattering chaos like a million swarming bees, and in the confusion Watney is lost and quickly presumed dead. The crew leaves and sets travel back to Earth. What follows is scene after scene of a very alive Watney problem solving everything from food to oxygen to transport; in his words he has to “science the shit out of this.” Playing into the film’s natural likability is how the plot sidesteps the usual the pitfalls. Suspense is never bought cheaply: when obstacles are encountered, and of course they are, it’s never, I repeat never because they did something stupid like pull the wrong lever or nod off at the wrong time. This is an intelligent story with intelligent characters who work out their problems, well, intelligently, and it’s a breath of fresh air in a movie culture overwhelmed with stupid.
The stacked cast ranging from Sean Bean to Donald Glover does fine work in their respective roles, although the scenes of the space crew have a peculiar sterility—they never convince as a group of close friends so much as coworkers who get along. How they all come to play a part in the deceptively complex story is key to this journey, and seeing all the puzzle pieces start to fit is incredibly satisfying.
Matt Damon was born to play botanist astronaut Mark Watney. After an early career rise in attention-grabbing roles in Good Will Hunting, Rounders, and The Talented Mr. Ripley, Damon’s career has been something an enigma. He has no typecast, since he's not really a type. Exuding intelligence but not the nerd kind, athletic but not macho (and put to great use in Bourne), an everyman that’s slightly boyish—this is not the stuff of the typical Hollywood lead. After a career of slight miscasts saved by his always vivid talent, The Martian delivers the role of his career. Watney plays to every strength he has as a performer, :smart, human and—as I’m sure will add to The Martian’s inevitably gigantic box office take—he’s funny. Really funny.
Damon plays a super high IQ without seeming like a superhuman, and finding a beautiful line between vulnerable and heroic is a sweet spot that propels the movie’s emotional core. Nothing could be more essential for a movie largely fixated on one man in one location; a likable lead that every single audience member could root for like a lifelong best friend they never knew they had. Damon delivers one of his greatest performances as a space oddity marooned on Mars, and an Oscar nomination is inevitable.
Equally a paradox is the career of Sir Ridley Scott, who after directing a couple masterpieces a decade—Alien, Blade Runner, Kingdom of Heaven: Director’s Cut—is stuck in a pattern of peaks and (mostly) valleys. Luckily everything wrong, wrong, wrong with Exodus: Gods and Kings or (the fascinating failure) The Counselor is refreshingly absent. Overwrought direction and outright bizarre creative decisions, like giving Christian Bale a Wall Street style ‘do as Moses, have been traded. The exchange rate is favorable.The Martian is a robust back-to-basics for the 77-year-old filmmaker, who amazingly shows no signs of slowing down. Simple camera setups capture a gorgeous Mars in a rainbow of different shades of orange, while the addition of ‘gopro’ style POV footage adds just enough visual mayhem to contrast the otherwise fluid and clear visuals. People have said for years Scott’s always the best part of his movies, and now that he finally has a terrific script by Drew Goddard to ground the typically beautiful directorial choices, Scott’s mighty powers behind the camera flourish.
There’s a mastered elegance to how easy Scott makes it all seem too, although it must be said he can’t conjure the same type of textured reality Christopher Nolan did on last year’s superior space adventure Interstellar. A sense of touch would have given much needed physical stakes. Aside from an early scene involving a med procedure, a sense of the physical is all but absent. Imagining life on mars is only slightly less alien post-The Martian than before it, and Scott’s excellent direction nevertheless stays clinical and cold. Moreover, if stories fall into categories of man vs. man, man vs. nature, and man vs. himself, The Martian is mostly man vs. cynicism, since a crucial flaw here is how mightily each obstacle is breezed on by even if the ultimate effect is slightly superficial exaltation.
A quick finger might point as Damon for rarely playing Watney as panicked or even a touch depressed, but it’s all in Andy Weir’s best selling novel from which The Martian is adapted. Eventually, being so bright and amazing at all times actually makes him less human and therefore harder to care about. He’s an All-American hero where perseverance, fortitude, and an undying will to succeed in all things is brightly warm and positive but equally inauthentic to any kind of real human experience. For as science fiction as The Martian tries to be, it’s ultimately as much an escapist fantasy as another movie coming out later this year that takes place a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Anything close to psychological realism is traded for Watney’s intellectual invincibility and can-do attitude. Optimistic escapism is a fine thing, but when my mom struggles more to open a jar of pickles than Matt Damon struggles to survive on Mars, it becomes clear why The Martian never quite blasts into space.
B
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]]>As with every year, it's hard to imagine we've already moved past the season of summer blockbusters and drive-ins and into the time of Oscar Movies and Biopics. And, wonderfully, James Bond, Star Wars, and Quentin Tarantino. This season is particularly diverse and also well paced: we'll get a few terrific films a month up to the end of the year, with enough diversity of choices to keep the hardened cinephiles happy as well as the average joe movie goer. Somewhere in this list might be the future best picture winner for 2015, or at least quite a few nominations. Without further ado, here are the 25 must see movies for fall and winter 2015!
25.) Suffragette (Sarah Gavron)
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Helena Bonham Carter, and Meryl Streep
Release Date: October 23rd
While we’ve already had the handsome Thomas Hardy adaptation Far From the Madding Crowd, adding another period feminist film to 2015’s oeuvre next to the sequels and spinoffs is downright refreshing. Like Crowd, Carey Mulligan stars as the feminist fighter to be, this time less via allegory and more through provocative action. Suffragette tells the essential story of the women’s suffrage movement begun in England in the early 20th Century, the type of social issue relevancy film can sometimes fall into the trap of portraying paint by numbers. Or, in other words, Oscar Bait. But with the extremely capable Mulligan leading, who’s had a diverse career ranging from meek to seething with anger, it’s another role that just might win her an oscar nomination.
24.) Pan (Joe Wright)
Starring: Levi Miller, Hugh Jackman, Rooney Mara, Garret Hedlund, and Cara Delevinge
Release date: October 9th
From Hanna to Atonement, English filmmaker Joe Wright’s handsome filmography is full of eclectic visual choices and an artful flair absent in films of a similar subject. Pizazz is a word to accurately describe the famous single take shot in Atonement or Pride and Prejudice, so when he signed on for the live-action version of Peter Pan, it’s no wonder his imagination ran wild. Too wild, perhaps, in the case of the new look of Blackbeard (Jackman) or Tiger Lilly (Mara). Terry Gilliam’s surrealist movies seem to be a primary influence on this kid’s movie, and downright curiosity for how this all turns out is the driving force behind my interest. Wright’s not really had a stinker yet, but not even his well-built trust can convince me some of these visual choices will sell.
23.) Trumbo (Jay Roach)
Starring: Bryan Cranston, Diane Lane, Elle Fanning, John Goodman, and Louis C.K.
Release Date: November 6th
The plot of a blacklisted screenwriter in the 1950s is attractive to begin with, especially one who penned the screenplay for Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus. Dalton Trumbo was blacklisted in the 40s for his supposed political leanings and associations to Marxist thought, i.e. being a communist, and Trumbo chronicles that truly fascinating story. But for me, an unabashed fan of Breaking Bad (who isn’t?) my excitement comes from two words: Bryan Cranston. It’s his first meaty leading role since that show’s excellent (if just slightly underwhelming) finale, and trailers promise a character of complexity not a damn thing like Walter White. His range as an actor, displayed already by going from Malcolm in the Middle to meth manufacturer, will be proven yet again.
22.) Everest (Baltasar Kormákur)
Starring: Jason Clarke, Josh Brolin, John Hawkes, Kiera Knightley, and Robin Wright
Release Date: September 25th
Coming out wide this weekend, this event movie spectacle boasts an ensemble cast to match the ambition of scaling such a high peak. Recalling the great disaster movies of the 70s ala Towering Inferno, Everest follows the real-life story of a team of climbers who get caught in a disastrous storm. It’s a terrifying plot—in a story built around the hope of accomplishing the impossible, Nature has its way. The effects are gorgeous, the cinematography on-key, and with a cast led by Jason Clarke, who after a supporting role in Zero Dark Thirty has had quite the career blow-up, deserves a chance in the spotlight. Until Spectre hits theaters in November, this might be the hottest IMAX ticket in town.
21.) Youth (Paolo Sorrentino)
Starring: Michael Caine, Harvey Keitel, Rachel Weisz, and Jane Fonda
Release date: December 4th
Michael Caine, amongst one of the most beloved actors working today, stars in the sophistic’s answer to those dreadful ‘older actors are having fun’ movies that never seem to be any good. Read: Last Vegas. Playing a retired music composer vacationing in the Alps, he’s joined by still working film director Mick Boyle—played amusingly by Harvey Keital. Slip in a Rachel Weitz and Paul Dano and it’s a rounded out cast for this dramedy. But what’s the key factor in Youth’s buzz is writer and director Paolo Sorrentino, hot off the heels of 2013’s spellbinding The Great Beauty, which won foreign film of the year at the 2014 oscars. Early footage shows every shot is gorgeous, and with a cast this right and a director this brilliant, excitement follows.
20.) The Good Dinosaur (Peter Sohn)
Starring: Frances McDormand, Raymond Ochoa, Anna Paquin, and Sam Elliot
Release Date: November 25th
Inside Out marked the triumphant return for Pixar studios, and a what a year it’d be if they made not just the best animated movie of the year, but the best two. The Good Dinosaur’’s visually striking trailers of dinosaurs roaming the Earth are eye-catching, but the premise of dinosaurs and man co-existing hasn’t yet sold me on its necessity. Honestly, that’s fine. My main trepidation is Pixar’s inability to stay consistent, so no matter how beautiful the marketing may be, getting over-excited is a cause for pause.
19.) Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part II (Frances Lawrence)
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, and Woody Harrelson
Release Date: November 20th
Mockingjay Part I was a low point in this uneven YA franchise that stumbles in adapting the diminishing returns of Suzanne Collins’ book series. Catching Fire is an impressive bar to try and aim past, a film that took what we saw in the first Hunger Games and impressively expanded it, into a huge scale action movie with expansive world building and Lawrence at her series best. Mockingjay Part II seems to take itself as disastrously self-seriously as the first of the finale’s parts, dour, bleak, and boring. This last entry will bring the action, I’m told, and the promise of a rousing climax—even if it’s not seen in the marketing so far—has my ticket bought.
18.) Crimson Peak (Guillermo del Toro)
Starring: Mia Wasikowska, Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain and Charlie Hunnam,
Release Date: October 16th
Once upon a time, Guilermero Del Toro’s horror opus would’ve ranked very high on this list indeed, however lackluster trailers and muted buzz has me skeptical. But the talent is all but impossible to ignore. The cast alone is a striking boon of confidence, and seeing that group of performers play against each other for two hours will be an absolute delight in and of itself—Hiddleston’s impressive range will be put to great use, hopefully acting as a successful heir to Mr. Rochester. The mise-en-scene of the Jane Eyre, House on Haunted Hill-like haunted mansion is outstanding, and the typically beautiful visual sense will drive this movie forward. I’m not sold, but I’m curious nonetheless. This is a ghost story, following a young girl (Wasikowska) married into a creepy family with, of course, deep-dark secrets.
17.) By the Sea (Angelina Jolie)
Starring: Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, and Melanie Laurent
Release Date: November 13th
I admit, it’s more curiosity driving my interest than genuine confidence in how Jolie’s second movie is going to turn out. The risky premise alone demands a double take, risky not just because she’s directing a romantic drama, but because she’s directing a romantic drama where she and her husband Brad Pitt are cast in the parts of a couple violently falling apart. The last time a couple this high-profile signed onto a sexual psycho-drama it ended in a black hole of tabloid headlines and heartbreak. But Jolie and Pitt seem to have avoided the same mistake Cruise and Kidman made by joining Kubrick on Eyes Wide Shut, and the trailer spells a classically Euoropean chamber drama with lavish visuals as rich as the complex characters. Jolie’s talent behind the camera has yet to be proven, however, but this is dramatically fertile ground to do it.
16.) Black Mass (Scott Cooper)
Starring: Johnny Depp, Joel Edgerton, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Dakota Johnson
Release Date: September 18th
It came out just this past weekend and I’ve still yet to see it, Black Mass by all accounts should be higher up on the list. The trailers are steeped in the wrong kind of retroism, selling imitation Scorsese instead of something with its own identity. Maybe I’m wrong but early buzz only reinforces my fear. One thing everybody can agree on is that this is Johnny Depp’s best performance in ages as Boston’s gangster king Whitey Bulger. After falling into a trap of Tim Burton mediocrity, Depp seems to have remembered he once upon a time loved to act, and seeing his performance in the trailers sent shivers down my spine. Distracting makeup sure, but his performance seems to shine through it in a way that can’t be missed.
15.) Room (Lenny Abrahamson)
Starring: Brie Larson, William H Macy, Joan Allen, and Megan Park
Release Date: October 16th
Brie Larson is one of the most underrated commodities in Hollywood, an actress who for any number of speculated reasons—like the bogus idea that she doesn’t have the ‘conventional’ Hollywood look or body type—hasn’t hit it big yet. In a plot similar to The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, a woman and her son escape the captivity of a small room and are forced to adjust to what to them seems a strange even terrifying world. It’s a narrative turn that in the right hands can be an effective mirror of society at large, and Frank director Lenny Abrahamson has the talent to do it.
14.) The Walk (Robert Zemeckis)
Starring: Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Charlotte Le Bon, Ben Kinglsey, and James Badge Dale
Release Date: September 30th
Zemeckis surprised everyone with 2012s excellent Flight, a return to live action after pioneering cutting edge mo-cap films like Polar Express, Beowolf, and A Christmas Carol. Flight was mature, smart, but still delivered a jarring plane crash sequence that’s possible the best rendition of that type of scene in movie history. The Walk sees him in live action once again, telling the story of Philippe Petit's hair-raising high wire attempt to cross the twin towers of The World Trade Center in 1974. The goofy makeup on Joseph Gordon Levitt’s face aside, all signs point to a thrilling drama that’s destined to make your belly drop, and early trailers demonstrate the rare appropriate use of 3D—from the wire that supports Petit’s crossing, it’s a long, long way down.
13.) In the Heart of the Sea (Ron Howard)
Starring: Frank Dillane, Chris Hemsworth, Charlotte Riley, Cillain Murphy, Ben Wishaw, and Brendan Gleeson
Release Date: December 11th
Release date delays usually sing a spell of doom, but this is a case where the exception proves the rule. Moving the followup to Howard’s nail-biting Formula One racing flick Rush from March to December was a boost of confidence, a decision made out of expecting audiences—and honestly, probably Oscar Voters—to love it. It’s the kind of studio-driven confidence that gets me giddy, a noted 180 from studios who often are stuck doing damage control for troubled productions. The last collaboration between Howard and Chris Hemsworth reaped high rewards, and here’s hoping the real life story that inspired Moby Dick is as visceral. When Howard’s on, he’s a cinematic commodity, and all signs point to Heart of the Sea being a gripping sea-fairing tale of man vs nature.
12.) Spotlight (Thomas McCarthy)
Starring: Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber and Stanley Tucci
Release Date: November 6th
Investigative journalism films can sometimes get mired in obsessing with facts and figures, losing the heart of the story and its subject. The opposite appears to be the case here; everything about Spotlight feels right. The diverse cast is terrific, including the second well-picked project in a row by Michael Keaton following his tremendous performance in Birdman. The real hook is the story the Boston Globe team controversially uncovered, the spotlight of Spotlight: the massive and systemic cover up of child molestation, concealed tragically by the Archdiocese. The ramifications shook the world, the ripples of which are still felt today. Early Festival buzz says the tragic but dramatically rich subject matter pays off and then some—this might be the best picture winner for the year.
11.) Beasts of No Nation (Cary Fukanaga)
Starring: Idris Elba, Abraham Attah, and Ama K. Abebrese
Release Date: October 16th
True Detective’s first season is a cult favorite, and with reason. I love it in all its flawed complexity, but controversy arose among fans when the last few episodes left some disappointed. But one universal facet of praise was Cary Fukunaga’s startling cinematic eye. The famous tracking shot that caps off episodes four is already obsessed over by film geeks on Reddit, and this is his first feature since. That alone deserves attention, but more, fan favorite Idris Elba stars in this poignant tale of child fighters in Africa, a tragic subject cinema already covered to some effect in Blood Diamond.
Comparisons already compare the dream-like war violence to early Herzog or Apocalypse Now, making this one of the most anticipated films of the year. And crucially, another dividing line with Beasts of No Nation is that it’s the first film Netflix put out on its own, the movie equivalent to House of Cards or Orange is the New Black.
10.) Joy (David O. Russell)
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Edgar Ramirez, Robert De Niro, and Bradley Cooper
Release Date: December 25th, 2015
Writer and director David O Russel has had one of those all time great streaks—The Fighter, Silver Linings Playbook, and American Hustle have collectively garnered 25 oscar nominations, each of them nominated for best motion picture of the year. Two out of three have Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper, the former of whom who won her oscar in Silver Linings, and is back for more in Joy, their third collaboration and a film inevitable to continue the streak of Oscar Glory. Cooper’s back too along with De Niro, and in a story imdb summarizes as “Joy is the story of a family across four generations and the woman who rises to become founder and matriarch of a powerful family business dynasty.” Joy is bound to be another zany, kinetically directed ensemble piece with nothing but amazing performances. There’s been a soft backlash to Russel’s career resurgence, saying he’s a great imitator and less a great artist. Let Joy prove them wrong.
9.) The Martian (Ridley Scott)
Starring: Matt Damon, Jessica Chastain, Chiwetel Eljiafor, Sean Bean, Jeff Daniels, and Kate Mara
Release Date: October 2nd
As chief Hitfix film critic Drew McWeeny summarizes in his rave review of The Martian, following Ridley Scott’s tumultuous career has been frustrating, and for his fans most of all. The man behind two of the greatest films ever made: Blade Runner and Alien and plenty of other accomplishments in Gladiatior, Kingdom of Heaven: Director’s Cut and others, has also made countless career flubs. But by all accounts his adaptation of best selling sci-fi novel The Martian, a sort of Cast Away on Mars where an astronaut is stranded on the red planet and has to survive long past his mission end date, is a long-awaited return to form. A super high Rotten Tomatoes score of 97% almost confirms it.
Starring a well-equipped Matt Damon and seemingly playing to all of his strengths, there’s multiple Oscar categories this can compete in, from best picture to actor. The trailers hook you with comedy and the massive sense of scale Scott’s known for, and watching Damon ‘science the shit out of this’ is going to make for essential fall watching. A sure hit as a blockbuster, I honestly can’t wait.
8.) Macbeth (Justin Kurzel)
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Marion Cotillard, David Thewlis, Sean Harris, and Paddy Considine
Release Date: December 4th
Two actors have never been a finer choice for the leading roles in Shakespear’s second most famous play than film world darling Michael Fassbender or Oscar beloved Marion Cotillard. Macbeth has been radically reconceived as a violent fantasy, sort of a Nicolas Winding Refn’s Valhalla Rising meets something totally new, and the result looks spellbinding. Down and dirty and visually splendid, the emmy winning cinematographer behind Top of the Lake and True Detective’s first season imagined Macbeth in bleak Earth tones and color drenched tableaus, and that level of artistry appears to have saturated every level of production.
7.) Sicario (Denis Villeneuve)
Starring: Emily Blunt, Benecio Del Toro, Josh Brolin, Jeffrey Donovan, and Daniel Kaluuya
Release Date: Wide on October 2nd
After blazing his way into becoming one of the hottest directors today, Villenueve’s Incendies, Enemy and Prisoners are as potent an exercise in cinematic craft as they are diverse, and clearly what netted him the in-demand gig for Blade Runner’s skeptically anticipated sequel. Sicario has been (lazily but accurately) described as Zero Dark Thirty for the war on drugs, with a cold-gazed female lead (Blunt) calling the shots on the Mexico-American border. The thriller, already having won significant buzz from the Festival Circuit, has been called taut and intense, two believable descriptors for this powerhouse filmmaker. Combining pulpy genre thrills and relevant themes, Sicario’s destined for top ten lists and audience applause.
6.) Bridge of Spies (Steven Spielberg)
Starring: Tom Hanks, Mark Rylance, Amy Ryan, Alan Alda, and Austin Stowell
Release Date: October 16th
The only thing stopping Bridge of Spies from being in the tops is the paint by numbers feel of the trailer, and while reuniting with Tom Hanks is exciting on one level, it’s an obvious choice for an obvious project. But in a career with shockingly few stinkers, Spielberg’s latest is sure to hit hot on the oscar trial, especially if it’s as good as some say. British playwright Matt Charman penned the screenplay and sharing a credit with The Coen Brothers, and with theater star Mark Rylance playing supporting, the talent involved is of the higher caliber. The spy-movie plot is an exciting genre for Spielberg to tackle, but with the predictable moralizing: a Brooklyn lawyer (Hanks) is thrown into a Cold War dispute to negotiate the release of downed spy plane pilot Francis Gary Powers from the Soviet Union. Contemplating truth, justice, and the American way follow, which might appeal to Oscar Voters more than audiences.
5.) Steve Jobs (Danny Boyle)
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Seth Rogan, Kate Winslet, Jeff Daniels, and Katherine Waterson
Release Date: October 23rd
I admit to this choice being something of a cheat. Before this long-coming biopic’s debut just a few days ago at The Telluride Film Festival, it would’ve ranked significantly lower on the list. But I didn’t write this before its premiere or before swaths of buzzing reviews raved Michael Fassbender’s apparently electric turn as the titular character, and lauded the 200 word screenplay by wordsmith mastermind Aaron Sorkin and Danny Boyle’s kinetic direction. I’m pumped, not just because I’m an Apple fan (I am), but because the film seems as aesthetically radical, as thematically potent, all the things I want out of an awards contender. Word is Fassbender can snag best actor and nominations for the rest of the cast, best picture, best screenplay and others don’t seem far out of view. In other words, amazing buzz makes Steve Jobs a categorically safe and even exciting bet.
4.) The Revenant (Alejandro G. Inarritu)
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Tom Hardy, Will Poulter, Domhnall Gleeson, and Lukas Haas
Release Date: December 25th
As one of the few that didn’t anoint Innaritu as cinema’s savior for his all-in-one-take tour de force Birdman, I confess a certain skepticism for The Revenant. This movie looks amazing. Amazing. The two minute trailer alone is packed with gorgeous (digital) 65mm compositions and creative visual choices, and DiCaprio, in what we’re told is a mostly wordless performance, seems downright feral in the role of Hugh Glass, a betrayed bear hunter left to die. In what sounds like a revenge film by way of Warner Herzog, he exacts vengeance on his betrayers, led by Tom Hardy. An insane pairing. These merits alone demand that The Revenant is seen and on the biggest screen possible, but when you aim so high, as he did with Birdman, there’s further to fall.
3.) The Hateful Eight (Quentin Tarantino)
Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russel, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins, Michael Madsen, Tim Roth, and Bruce Dern
Release Date: 70mm Exclusive on December 25th, Wide on January 8th
Admittedly having read 2/3rds of the leaked Hateful Eight screenplay, I can say with confidence (the unknown last third aside) that his second western is one of his best screenplays. As a high wire act of closed quarters claustrophobic plotting, eight people, the hateful eight, are locked inside a small habberdashy in a helluva blizzard. It’s somewhere between Django Unchained and Reservoir Dogs, or a western by way of the dinner table scene in Inglourious Basterds. It’s tense, to be sure, but the script was also more thematically powerful than Unchained, and with a typically terrific cast and glorious 70mm ultra-widescreen cinematography (that’s getting an early release this Christmas), The Hateful Eight is begging to be one of his best.
2.) Spectre (Sam Mendes)
Starring: Daniel Craig, Lea Seydoux, Dave Bautista, Monica Bellucci, Ralph Fiennes, and Christoph Waltz
Release Date: November 6th
Equal part bringing Bond back to his roots and pushing him into the modern age, Skyfall was everything James Bond had to be at that moment. Spectre, with its added mood, action, comedy, and a rumored deeper look into his past, seems to be more of the same rich filmmaking from director Sam Mendes. Craig’s Bond is already secured as one of the best, new Bond-girl Lea Seydoux is both glamorous and competent, and Christoph Waltz is a born actor for a scheming Bond villain mastermind. The trailers aren’t as attention grabbing as Skyfall’s nearly perfect marketing campaign, but all signs point to another iconic entry in the beloved series.
1.) Star Wars: The Force Awakens (J.J. Abrams)
Starring: Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Harrison Ford, Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Adam Driver, and Andy Serkis
Release Date: December 18th
In the same way that Mad Max: Fury Road topped “best of 2015 so far” lists, Star Wars is topping every most anticipated list for the rest of the year’s movies. Almost beyond a matter of opinion, it has to. The Force Awakens is the widely, universally, inter-galactically most anticipated movie, an honest to Yoda cultural event, the kind we maybe have once every decade. I get asked all the time what my favorite movie is, with people expecting “the film critic” to rattle off some Godard or Tarkovsky. It’s The Empire Strikes Back, and while I don’t expect The Force Awakens to be so powerful it jumps me into hyperspace from the theater, that the first two trailers found a genius balance between fan service and a new call to adventure is a Jedi-oath we won’t leave theaters disappointed. Don’t dissapoint me Captain Abrams.
]]>Of the two primary kinds of physical discomfort during a movie, needing to pee and feeling the pit of hunger in your stomach, the latter strikes me more often and with even more distraction. I walked into Sicario insanely hungry but with one of those fake health bars I’d picked up just before, already lightly unwrapped and ready for eating. I placed it on my lap as the movie began, excited to see what Montreal filmmaker Denis Villeneuve has in store after 2013s excellent double header in Enemy and Prisoners. As I moved out of my seat as the credits rolled and saw my snack fall, uneaten, onto my chair, I realized it took Sicario less than a minute to seize control of my body. With a harrowing opening that hits the ground running by way of a military raid, your attention is entirely under the precise control of Villeneuve, quickly transitioning you from an adrenaline shot of Hurt Locker-esque action into the horror of decayed body tableau.The walls of the house, we find, are lined with the bagged and bloodied bodies of the Cartel, a shocking find all the more due to its location: Arizona, U.S.A.. The drug war is at home, a fight that’s frighteningly domestic, and a wide-shot of the wrecked scene reveals it as just another house in suburbia. One of a hundred.
And that’s just the first five minutes.
Emily Blunt leads a trio of powerful performances as audience surrogate Kate Macer, who embodies every rat in a maze trope in the book. All is not what it seems when she’s recruited into a special task force, the goal of which is to take down a high-ranking Cartel head. She’s told narcotics raids, like the one that serves as the kinetic open described above, are low-level and effect nothing. To make a difference, it’s necessary to aim higher and, curiously, with less precision. So is the battle plan of Matt (Josh Brolin), the Government spook that scoped her out as the best candidate for the incognito but pricey military operation that has so much cash flow they have a private jet. With them is former prosecutor and ominous presence Alejandro (Benecio Del Toro), adorned with a wrinkled suit and played with the kind of performance that comes only a few times a career. It’s his best performance in forever, and as he graduates to near co-lead by the end he risks stealing the picture from Blunt; if she didn’t deliver with equal ferocity the balance of power between their characters would fall apart. Their dynamic relationship and how it develops is key, and they kill it.
With an air of tension so thick and hostile it’s advisable to watch Sicario in a hazmat suit, Matt’s plan of action amps up the intensity with missions that are accurately described as stirring the pot of the conflict with bullets and chaos. After an operation that inevitably escalated into a hair raising firefight, a soldier shows Kate the deadly goal of Matt’s plan: from the view of a military base rooftop they see a Mexican city erupting in explosions and gunfire, something the soldier impassionately describes as “fireworks.” From Villeneuve’s previous efforts Sicario is a huge step up in scale, but, as seen here, the focus remains human.
I don’t dare to label Sicario a fable, but it doesn’t quite take place in our reality. It’s a heightened fantasy with its feet only just above the ground; gritty enough to feel real but removed to function as empowered allegory. The way living legend cinematographer Roger Deakins captures desert terrain and cityscapes like investigating an alien planet, as seen in Koyaanisquatsi, emphasizes the slight non-reality of Sicario’s universe. Moreover, Jóhann Jóhannsson’s pulsing, industrial (and excellent) score has the same effect. It’s an exploitation artsy action movie and not afraid to show it, ambitiously trying to balance genuine big screen thrills with intelligent storytelling, dimensional character writing, and actual thematic discussion, making the film an all-in-one that successfully provokes on every level. In the best kinds of these movies, form and content can submerge into one another. Nobody would say this is subtle, but Taylor Sheridan’s screenplay cast the Government ‘higher ups’ as exclusively white men and the two U.S. characters lost in the mix-Kate and her partner Reggie (Daniel Kaluuya) as minorities- a creative decision that uses casting, writing, and performance with an effective theme in mind.
Like with Prisoners, Sicario has no problem moralizing the grizzly subject matter. The United States’ war on drugs has cost a head-turning one trillion dollars that even after fact-checking the figure sounds like a typo. There’s a definite holier than thou quality to Villeneeve’s movie that may rub some people the wrong way, especially as the political subtext—a rousing indictment of U.S. policy on the matter, but also issues of feminism and abuse of the American people— becomes the actual text by the end. It’s a natural escalation instead of a devolution to preachy soapboxing, but those hoping for the film to have been named Zero Dark Drug War and remain politically neutral will leave the theater annoyed. As a thriller Sicario is one of the best films of the year, but as a heady examination of a complex, multi-faceted conflict, nuance is traded for powerful but thematic storytelling that completely works within its own context.
Heavy handed dialogue sometimes rears its ugly head, and an almost religious devotion to genre tropes reduces the first half to an obvious, if suitably rousing hour of sophisticated moviemaking. After seeing a military convoy enter the Mexican city of Juarez, which elegantly cuts together multiple camera setups including cameras mounted on the turreted vehicles themselves, a character moodily says “Welcome to Juarez.” It’s right out of a Tony Scott movie, a moment of ugly writing that recalls the bad kind of exploitation movie. Moments like these aren’t as rare as you’d like in a movie that’s otherwise assembled with artful grace. But if the first half drives you down familiar paths, the second half, notably the final 35 minutes, takes more than one sharp left into the unfamiliar. And it’s there that Sicario turns sublime and treacherous.
A-
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]]>A safe movie by design, The Visit is suspense maestro M Night Shyamalan’s most watchable film in more than ten years. The justly prolific writer/director who got his start with the impressively assured ghost story The Sixth Sense—a classic—is nothing if not ambitious. His movies are full of ideas and on every level, playing with the conventions of style and plot like e a mad conductor and the various film departments his orchestra. (Almost) all of his movies have, if nothing else, isolated moments of brilliance and true movie making wonder, combining inspired uses of score, lighting, and composition to bring his visionary screenplays to life. That much is true, and you’ll find nary a naysayer to that effect. But that same sense of invention is what pushed him to the breaking point of indulgence, leading to masturbatory trash in the way of Lady in the Water, The Happening, The Last Airbender, and After Earth, and many have been hoping for the sweet nectar of career resurgence.
The Visit is not the answer to Shyamalan’s problems as an artist, or the long-wanted apology for his fans. Exactly what made him fun to watch is missing, seemingly taking a palette cleanser approach (like Michael Bay did with Pain and Gain after a bunch of Transformers movies). Instead of the convoluted plot and in-your-face symbols of a movie like The Village, which preposterously pondered a theme of hardcore isolationism, The Visit is a stripped down boxcar of a movie and that creative choice is the source of all the film’s virtues and all of its sins. Its simplified premise is purposeful and effective but never revelatory, and ultimately, to continue my metaphor, by the nature of itself can’t accelerate to full speed. But you do have fun.
This is, in fact, a found footage movie. It’s something the marketing didn’t explicitly tell us, and Shyamalan subtly reinvents that horror subgenre in a somewhat creative way. You find out within minutes that The Visit isn’t so much found footage as much as finished footage. The movie is actually the finished documentary of one of the characters, a 15 year old girl named Becca (Olivia Dejonge), and (too) much time is spent mulling over the specifics of film aesthetics, mise-en-scene, and characters talking about camera setups. The gimmick wears out its welcome but gets points for trying something new, proving once again why horror has long been a surprisingly fertile ground for experimentation.
The Finished Footage aesthetic pays off in some ways more than others, especially in an early scene where the characters play hide and seek under a house, leading to the year’s best jump scare since It Follows. Most of my theater jumped, shrieked, and even I admit to feeling shivers tingle down my spine. Jump scares are an old trick, but the execution is atypical, and the artificial spontaneity of Finished Footage is played more for suspense than straight up scares (despite this example). With the documentary already ‘completed’ the film asks how the kids made it out or if someone else appropriated the footage and made it into something else, like Werner Herzog with Grizzly Man (about the life and death of Timothy Treadwell and his girlfriend Aimie, using footage Treadwell filmed for personal use to construct his documentary with his iconic voiceover of existential observation). The smartest thing about The Visit is how it follows the old tropes of teen-friendly horror movies but executes them with an extra ounce of sophistication. Long a disciple from the church of Hitchcock, Shyamalan once again summons suspense out of thin air, and he does it often. All the more impressive is how he accomplishes this without a film score of any kind.
Aesthetic hoopla aside, the story is unusually common for a director known for dreamy strangeness. Becca and her eight year old brother (Ed Exenbould) are spending a week with their grandparents—Nana (Deanna Dunagan) and Pop Pop (Peter McRobbie). Who, we quickly find out in an on-camera ‘interview’ with the sibling’s mom (an enlivened Karthryn Hahn) had a falling out with her parents around 20 years before and refuses to talk about it. That’s the first ‘mystery’ of many that Shyamalan plants for us to try and figure out, and some reveals are more satisfying than others. What follows is the weirdest week of their lives: the grandparents are at best unstable or at worst crazy. Grandma goes from making delicious cookies and being a cheerful, warm, maternal presence to making what sound like threats. In one scene featured in most of the marketing, the grandma eerily asks Becca to clean inside a large oven. All the way inside.
The script plays off the strange behavior of just about everybody’s grandparents but ups it to lethal extremes, and you’re unsure of what’s dangerous and what’s dementia. In the same off-color way The Village uses mental illness for a cheap twist, The Visit suggests that the line between being old and being a psychopath is a strangely thin one. Moreover, mental illness plays a role in the film and there’s something lurid in exploiting a serious disease for the purpose of pulp. But that’s for another article.
While there’s red herrings and a prolonged predictability at work (I saw most of the movie coming early on), what I didn’t guess was how laugh out loud funny The Visit consistently is. Neither a satire or straight faced horror, the tipping between both tones is a level of nuance I didn’t think Shyamalan was capable of anymore. Tyler (the brother) is a wanna-be gangsta rapper, and his raps littered throughout the movie are as terrible as they hilarious. And unlike every facial expression by Mark Walhberg in The Happening, laughter is an intentional part of the movie. The prolific director discovered one of his late-career talents—his ability to inspire laughs—and he plays to that strength with a resolved self awareness that’s a pleasant surprise. Pitting humor and suspense together are a fetching pair, and the contrast works. Well-tuned performances guide the ship, and deftly handling the two tones is particularly impressive for Dejonge and Exenbould, given their young age.
One consideration is that had The Visit come out with an unknown director’s name in the credits, and not Shyamalan’s, and therefore no fanfare, this would be remarked on as a promising start instead of a positive upswing on a crashing plane. It’s in a high class of its low brow genre, but sadly never becomes the sum of its sometimes very good parts. Shyamalan ultimately fights against himself, knocking down his victories with stilted dialogue or unnecessary scenes that undermine the tension and pace. The biggest problem isn’t that it’s terrible, but that it can’t stay being very good for very long. There are lulls. But there are victories too, so even if The Visit never comes alive as a result of the uneven assembly, it’s a mostly worthwhile entry in his previously dying catalogue. When the heavy handed ending reveals The Visit’s thesis as a plea for forgiveness and even redemption, something the characters in the movie call an “elixir”, you wonder if Shyamalan hoped The Visit would be an elixir of his own. It’s not, but it is a start.
C+
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]]>As 2015’s film fest circuit begins and powers the way to Oscar Season, I thought I’d check in with the top 15 movies of 2015 (so far):
15.) Age of Ultron (Joss Whedon)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/the-avengers-age-of-ultron-movie-review
Disappointing doesn’t have to mean a total write-off, and Age of Ultron, for all its warts, possesses many satisfactions. It’s dark but not brooding, and Scarlet Witch’s hallucinations are an effective Lynchian device that gives this Marvel movie an edge the others lacked. Themes are explored, albeit clumsily, and making Tony Stark’s Iron Man into a Dr. Frankenstein in the creation of Ultron was an inspired move. The action is (enjoyably) manic and the plot is a ball of yarn after a cat’s gotten to it, but it’s the power of Joss Whedon that the messiness makes any sense at all. The last 45 minutes are absolute madness, the comic bookiest Avengers-universe Marvel movie yet, and embracing that side of things spells promise for the future. B
14.) Cinderella (Kenneth Branagh)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/cinderalla-movie-review
A powerful example of the right director to the right project, Kenneth Branagh knew exactly what to do to make his Cinderella work. It’s not another example of fairy tale revisionism, like the dull Maleficent or middling fun of Snow White and the Huntsman, but a back-to-basics tale that’s biggest virtue is its simplicity and smallness. The scale isn’t hyperbolic or contrived. It the story as straightforwardly as possible—and that’s not a knock. Branagh knows when, and, crucially, when not to, inject necessary flair and wit to the proceedings. He wisely lets his gorgeous leads carry most of the weight. Lily James and Richard Madden are perfect in their respective roles of Cinderella and Prince Charming, and the result is, well, a bit of low volume movie magic. B
13.) Furious 7 (James Wan)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/furious-7-movie-review
Stupid but stylish, Furious 7’s emotional ending made me cry. It’s awkward to say a virtue of a film is its handling of a tragedy, but part of what made the finale’s tribute to Walker so poignant is the franchise’s longstanding theme of family bonds. Diesel’s Terrato comically says “we’re family” 50 times a movie, and the payoff is an emotional wallop that awkwardly but sincerely showed what makes the Fast and Furious movies a few steps above Transformers: characters we care about. But it’s also its self awareness, a real sense of fun, and an ability to continually pull off cartoonish set pieces that are live action Looney Tunes. In a movie culture when so many movies take themselves too seriously, Furious 7 is at once a parody of a street race-action movie while simultaneously being absolutely that and is all the better for that contradiction. B+
12.) Slow West (John Maclean)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/slow-west-movie-review
No film this year would make the Coen Brothers happier than Slow West, a neo-western told as if it was an old fable brought to life. Outbursts of graphic violence hit visceral high notes seconds after laugh-out-loud slapstick, and the unsettling contrast adds to the surrealism of this already strange tale. The gorgeous terrain of New Zealand makes a perfect setting for the Wild West, juxtaposing the storybook scenery with the haggard characters outfitted in tattered jackets and heavy with weary. Mountains, skies, and vast planes burst with overly saturated colors, mythologizing the land in a story that, itself, feels mythic. This revisionist western finds a young boy by the name of Jay Cavendish (a terrific Kodi Smit-McPhee) searching for his long lost love (Caren Pistorius), and teaming up with a Southern-twanged Michael Fassbender as a slick bounty hunter. It’s a small film that has no qualms about its size, confident in the story its telling and exactly how it tells it. B
11.) Jurassic World (Colin Trevorrow)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/jurassic-world-movie-review
Since I wrote my initial review back in June, I had a chance for a screening in IMAX 3D. The difference between a conventional theater and IMAX is of course categorically cosmetic and doesn’t change any of the flaws in the film. But in this case, size really does matter, and the bigger dinos and louder roars made you forget about the problems until at least a half an hour after the movie had ended. The last 45 minutes are thrilling, and that sustained piece of Aliens-esque silver screen bravado is a calling card for what Trevorrow can do as a filmmaker. The characters are featureless and the new themes are thin, but Jurassic World works tirelessly to give you a good time, and by God it does. A billion dollars at the box office later, it’s no wonder this is what got Trevorrow the gig for Star Wars: Episode IX. B
10.) It Follows (David Robert Mitchell)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/it-follows-movie-review-1
Quentin Tarantino, never shy about his opinions, recently caused a media uproar when he took the bat to 2015 cult favorite horror movie It Follows saying the following: “It’s one of those movies that’s so good you get mad at it for not being great.” His leading criticism was a lack of internal consistency with what the big baddie can or cannot do, and, regrettably, I share his feelings exactly. The film’s ghoul embodies the psychological phenomenon of something being just around your shoulder, as if you’re forever being followed. The only way to save yourself? Sex. Sleeping with somebody transfers the curse of “being followed’ to somebody else, and while the film’s themes run deeper than the pitfalls of teen promiscuity, that reading is not invalid. The first half is a brilliant treatise in mastering tone and atmosphere, boasting spooky, grayed digital cinematography and a pulsing synth score that recalls the best of John Carpenter. Sadly, the bubble pops when Mitchell plays fast and loose with his own rules, and a third act that can’t match the tension or scares of the first reel. Nevertheless the best horror of the year. B
9.) What We Do in the Shadows (Jemaine Clement, Taika Waititi)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/what-we-do-in-the-shadows-movie-review
A mockumentary of the highest order, What We Do in the Shadows chronicles the bloody tale of four vampire flatmates trying to get along. As I said in my review this past March, it slowly transcends its aspirations of parody and entrances you as a sometimes moving (but always hilarious) entry into vampire movie canon. The ingenious crew behind Flight of the Concords are the central creative force here, although the more you already know about vampire mythology (and vampire pop-culture) the more you’ll laugh. After an annoyingly narcissistic character is turned into a vamp, he tries ‘cashing in’ on Twilight fandom by telling hot babes at bars that he’s a vampire like Robert Pattinson’s Edward. Paradoxically for a movie about vampires, by thrusting them into a domestic setting, the beloved bloodsuckers have rarely been so human. B+
8.) Straight Outta Compton (F. Gary Gray)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/straight-outta-compton-movie-review
The surprise hit of the summer, the key to unlocking the biopic of rap supergroup N.W.A. is its from-the-headlines relevancy. As a commentary on race and class, Gray and his team of screenwriters wisely realized to tell the full story of N.W.A., who became famous for their hit single Fuck Tha Police, you also need to tell the story of the institutional racism dominating their everyday lives. The police are bigoted and abusive, and the central N.W.A. team—Eazy-E, Ice Cube, and Dr. Dre—are constant victims at the hands of that misused power. But this isn’t a heady discourse, it’s a visceral rock-and-roll music biopic a la Sid and Nancy, and it’s raw entertainment value is what has propelled it to an impressive 150,000,000 domestic. Our experience watching the film comes as close as it can to capturing what it was like to be these game-changing artists, which is an accomplishment in and of itself. B+
7.) Clouds of Sils Maria (Olivier Assayas)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/the-clouds-of-sils-maria-movie-review
I saw “Clouds” last fall at the Chicago International Film Festival, and I left the theater with only one thought in mind: Kristen Stewart went toe-to-toe with Juliette Binoche and killed it. The film itself, a stumbling, self-reflexive study in the lines drawn between art and the artist, homages Lynch’s Mulholland Drive as readily as Bergman’s Persona in its haunting story of two isolated, beautiful women. Binoche plays an aging actress asked to play the role opposite of the one that made her famous, and most of the film is a candid look at the life of a famous actress. As her assistant, Stewart gives a marvelous supporting performance worthy of oscar attention, and the sure-handed direction accounts for the ethereal atmosphere and whispered tone, although how much you meaning extract from its tangents on the substance of art is up to you. B+
6.) Mission: Impossible 5 (Christopher McQuarrie)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/mission-impossible-rogue-nation-movie-review
A sophisticated blend of the hardboiled espionage of Mission: Impossible and Brad Bird’s action packed opus Mission: Impossible Ghost Protocol, MI:5 is an outstanding greatest hits album with a few new killer tracks. The greatest special effect of MI5 isn’t the death-defying plane stunt that opens the movie or even the breathtaking motorcycle highway chase that left my theater gasping, it’s Tom Cruise himself, and he owns this movie. He’s the last of the old-class movie stars, and putting himself through real hard-knuckled stunts, including holding his breath for six minutes and brushing his knee against the pavement while tilting a motorcycle going at lightspeed, owns the title. The biggest surprise wasn’t any of the film’s keen twists, it’s the unexpected star turn by the tantalizing Rebecca Ferguson as a double or possibly triple agent. One prays Ferguson returns for the next flick in the franchise. She has one of the best female roles in years. B+
5.) Me and Earl and the Dying Girl (Alfonso Gomez-Rejon)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/me-earl-the-dying-girl-movie-review
After becoming a Sundance favorite and winning both the jury prize and audience award just like last year’s blistering Whiplash, there’s been a misguided backlash on this gem. It’s a Fault of Our Stars told from the point of view of an external observer, a typical teen brooder named Greg who struggles to connect with anyone. His primary way of communication is through superficial acquaintances, that is until his mother pushes him to befriend Rachel, a lovely and idiosyncratic girl recently diagnosed with cancer. Some have accused Me and Earl as a celebration of teen narcissism, but the opposite is true. This is a story about telling stories, and how they help us understand the world as much as ourselves. It’s not quite the home-run I wish it was, but it resonates on many levels—it’s funny, it’s sad, it’s hopeful, and it’s illuminating. Now playing in select theaters. B+
4.) Inside Out (Pete Docter, Ronnie del Carmen)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/inside-out-movie-review
I’m on the hype train for Inside Out, just not in one of the first cars. Director Pete Docter recognized a major flaw with the film early on: having a main character be a single shade of a complete person, Joy, might be too abstract and aloof for audiences. His solution, mostly, was to cast the warm and hilarious Amy Poehler in the role to compensate – it worked for most, but not really for me. Still, Pixar’s return to form is a triumphant one, a high-concept romp exploding at the seams with clever gags, stunning animation, and an eclectic mix of laughs and tears. That Inside Out, a movie that (mostly) takes place inside the metaphysical mindscape of a young girl’s head, works at all is a testament to the enormous talent on all sides. The expected Pixar poignant is back too, with more than a few moments left me misty-eyed reflective of my own childhood. B+
3.) Ex Machina (Alex Garland)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/ex-machina-movie-review
What I love about “Ex Machina” is its simplicity. We have a direct, minimalist plot, a clear visual palette, and a strict cast of four. This is a sophisticated and unusually smart take on artificial intelligence, using A.I. not only as a springboard for the classic kind of pot-induced predictions of the future and man, but also as a measured commentary on image, gender, and free will. Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) is a skilled programmer selected by lottery to conduct a Turing Test—whether or not a machine can pass as a human being. Nathan (a bearded and predictably amazing Oscar Isaac) has created Ava (Alicia Vikander), possibly the first real A.I. She’s sexy and striking, with a design I predict will become iconic. The best ensemble of the year uplifts “Machina” from becoming overly cerebral, and watching the leads play off each other is as riveting as their mind-expanding conversations—this is great cinema by any standard. B+
2.) The Look of Silence (Joshua Oppenheimer)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/the-look-of-silence-movie-review
A stunning work that shakes you for weeks, Joshua Oppenheimer’s companion piece to 2012’s The Act of Killing is a showcase for the peak of documentary craft today. The subject is the harrowing exploits around the 1965 Indonesian Genocide, but instead of merely miring in the depressive subject matter, both films have a humanist core. We’re asked to try and understand the villainous perpetrators of the genocide, many of whom are still in power and celebrated as cultural heroes—it’s as if Nazi Germany won and stayed in power, living alongside the families of Jewish victims. The Look of Silence is a series of conversations between Adi, the brother of one of the most famous victims, and the killers on various levels of political power. It’s a courageous, harrowing piece of cinema that asks you not only to question humanity as a whole but also your own. A
1.) Mad Max: Fury Road (George Miller)
Review: http://themetaplex.com/reviews/2015/mad-max-fury-road-movie-review
Churning, roaring, clashing, and exploding, Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy) hit the apocalyptic landscape with the same hellmouth fury that Fury Road hit theaters with. More than a just a masterpiece, the fourth Mad Max movie is a drug. After seeing it, I immediately need another hit. After four viewings, the highs are still high and I can’t wait for the fifth. Visionary in the truest and most sincere sense of the word, Fury Road turns to sublime visual purity of silent cinema as its frame to revitalize modern action aesthetics, using the crazed cut-cut-cut editing of Battleship Potemkinas the spinning wheels and visceral physical stunts (almost always done for real) as the seething engine. A non-verbal narrative emerges through the dust and debris, a stunning story of liberation and triumph. This is the best movie of the year, the one to beat, and even if Star Wars: The Force Awakens exceeds my delusions of its anticipated grandeur, Fury Road is historic. So shiny. So chrome. A+
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]]>Netflix Picks is a feature with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
Frank (Lenny Abrahamson, 2014)
For fans of quirky, indie, self-aware cinema, look no further than Frank. Michael Fassbender plays the titular character, donning an intentionally absurd American accent and wears—yes—a paper mache mask the entire movie. The mask resembles Hey Arnold. The off-beat humor might rub some people the wrong way, but for fans of Wes Anderson, Noah Baumbach, or for those just looking for something off the beaten path, there’s treasures to be enjoyed. The plot: Domhnall Gleeson, who you either saw earlier this year in Ex Machina or you will in December in Star Wars, is a hungry not amazing musician (in the same sense Eli Cash in Royal Tenenbaums is especially not a genius), who teams up with Frank and his bizzaro group of musicians. Egos get in the way, and hints of betrayal surface. Frank tilts from a strange music movie comedy into a deep study on narcissism and loneliness, and it gets unusually affecting in the final minutes as a result. When people say a movie’s a gem, this is the kind they mean.
The Sixth Sense (M. Night Shyamalan, 1999)
An absolute classic, not only because of its lethally focused storytelling (it comes in at less than two hours), but for it’s constant presence on Cable in the intermittent years from ’99 to now. So you’ve probably seen Shyamalan's most famous, and probably best film (Unbreakable gives it a run for its money), but with his upcoming movie The Visit hitting cinemas this week, there’s no better time to return to The Sixth Sense. Unlike most other ‘90s horror movies, this ghost story is dramatic storytelling first, scares second, making it not only a ride that is emotionally involving but one that elevates the suspense in kind. Bruce Willis brilliantly plays against type as a child psychologist, and the strong acting by Haley Joel Osment lends credibility to what otherwise might’ve been outlandish supernatural storytelling. A terrific feature that hasn’t aged a day.
Drug War (Johnnie To, 2013)
Film favorite Quentin Tarantino has named Hong Kong cinema director Johnnie To as one of his favorite directors working anywhere in the world, and it’s easy to see why. Carefully staged action scenes, closer to high-art ballets of bloodshed and gangster violence than Michael Bay’s ‘chaos cinema’, and lengthy dialogue scenes that are as intense and hard-hitting as the action, are Tarantino staples. Drug War is a masterful showcase for both. To’s movies haven’t blown up in the States like some other foreign action directors—like John Woo’s Hard Boiled, but Drug War is razor-sharp, a taut thriller with wide commercial appeal that never expects the viewer to be stupid. Hints of The Departed lend the story an accessibility some might not expect, involving undercover cops and drug lord mobsters in a complex web of “who can you trust?”, and following all the individual threads is as much a thrill as the more visceral sequences.
Nightcrawler (Dan Gilroy, 2014)
Number 3 on my own top ten list for 2014, Gilroy’s slimy directorial debut is a scathing, brilliant, surprisingly funny indictment not just of the media but of the people who watch it. Lou Bloom is a psychopathic entrepreneur with his eyes set on the world of big news coverage, “If it bleeds, it leads,” and he creeps from graphic car wrecks to terrifying home invasions with the same wide-eyed excitement that a child might greet Santa. What’s his job? His is the profession nicknamed “Nightcrawler”, those who capture crime scene footage and sell it to news agencies. The film acts first and foremost as an nighttime L.A. thriller, lensed by genius cinematographer Roger Elswit, and rivals classics like Network for both power and relevancy. Jake Gyllenhaal’s central performance was my favorite from last year, playing Bloom with overeager fright and urgency. A masterpiece of a movie.
Up in the Air (Jason Reitman, 2009)
George Clooney’s dry charm turned melancholic in this genre-breaking rom-com about a man who travels the country to fire people. On one hand, Up in the Air operates as millennial parable, where big business companies hire Clooney to fire employees, an apt metaphor for how we compartmentalize drama and avoid confrontation in this socially digital age. It’s also funny, fast, and generally well-observed, a movie that operates on multiple levels so as to suit multiple moods. It also has rare credit of being one of the first movies to introduce us to Anna Kendrick, here playing a career-focused woman still learning the ropes. It’s one of the best movies of 2009, and its social relevancy hits home in a way few recent movies can.
The Great Escape (John Sturges, 1963)
A three-hour long movie is a big ask of any genre, with any cast, or awarded any acclaim. But in the case of The Great Escape, Steve McQueen led a legendary ensemble of James Garner, Richard Attenborough, James Donald, and Charles Bronson (to name a few), who go some way to help Struges to make this prison break classic one of the most rousing, entertaining, downright jubilant movies of all time. In a word: FUN. The cast’s chemistry is as iconic as the actors themselves, who together make a credible team with a level of believable camaraderie rarely seen outside of lifelong best friends. The World War II setting makes this an unusual period for an elaborate heist-style prison break of dividing different roles to different people, deriving super-charged suspense out of the act-of-God inevitable mishaps that intrude and risk foiling the whole plan. Pop the popcorn and dim the lights, this is three hours of big screen bliss.
The Aviator (Martin Scorsese, 2004)
Heart throb, star, and, despite what slews of internet memes say about his lack of an Oscar, one of the best actors of his generation, Leonardo DiCaprio got his first dream project made in ’04 with cinematic master Martin Scorsese at the helm. It’s a biopic of eccentric and obsessive-compulsive aviation man Howard Hughes, who, as history tells it, also had a big influence on Hollywood—Cate Blanchett gives a shimmering performance as Katharine Hepburn. It’s rousing cinema with a fascinating subject who’s attracted multiple directors to tell his story—Christopher Nolan famously scrapped his Hughes project once Scorsese’s was put into production. DiCaprio’s performance as was his biggest acting hurrah way back in 2004, and it’s held up as some of his finest work. Dated CGI, fine cinema.
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]]>After weeks leading the box office at number one, Straight Outta Compton, which I sadly saw late and couldn’t experience this terrific movie’s surprise with everybody else, has become an out of left field late summer hit. In retrospect, this movie’s cultural explosion—142 million worldwide and counting— should’ve been obvious. N.W.A.’s legacy is alive and loved, but what made Compton soar is that their story, starting on the ghetto streets of Compton and ending in Wolf of Wallstreet style uproarious parties in massive mansions, with some stadium concerts as the rocket fuel that brought them higher and higher, is inexorably tied to race and class at a time in desperate need of stories on those subjects to be told. Compton tells a story of a famous music group but also of race and of class and of celebrity, and director F. Gary Gray tells it well in his best directed film to date. This isn’t a story isolated to the stage and behind the scenes drama of a band coming together and falling apart—a story we’ve seen various levels of in many films before, notably Sid and Nancy—but instead plunges you head first into the eternal history of why N.W.A. exploded in the first place.
Wisely, the quintet of script-based storytellers (with two screenplay credits given to Jonathan Herman and Andrea Berloff) realized to completely capture the story of N.W.A. as a Bio-pic, a powerful injection of indirect theme and story was necessary. Gray goes full steam ahead introducing us to the film’s main trio of Ice Cube (O’Shea Jackson Jr.), Dr. Dre (Corey Hawkins), and Eezy-E (Jason Mitchell) through a set of mythologized self-contained story beats that almost work as individual short films telling an origin story. Eazy-E’s is the first—the gangster—introduced to us through a well-shot opening scene that’s already thick with atmosphere and tension, as he places a pistol in his slacked trousers and walks toward a dilapidated house bathed in fluorescent light. It’s a stylish and artistic opening image, showing a gross image of a ghetto home presented to us beautifully, mythologized, romanticized, but still honest and sincere of the memory of how Eazy-E might have lovingly reminisced about the night. Once he enters the house it’s the makings of a drug deal gone awry, a scene straight out of Scorsese, and a beat or two later the sound of militarized police comes charging onto their street. RUN.
Eazy-E went on to produce N.W.A.’s first music ever out of his own pocket, a bid to escape a life he clearly had no reason to continue having, therefore linking the narrative trajectory of Straight Outta Compton to the exact same type military police that fight in “Chiraq.” The portrayal of African Americans and police is largely binary—one is a sympathetic victim at all times while the other is a ghoulishly unrelenting presence that always haunts the main characters. Outside the recording studio where they’re laying down tracks, police show up befuddled at what a group of black guys could be doing in such a nice area. Immediately Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Eazy-E and their cohorts are forced onto the ground, harshly, and if you still didn’t get the idea that the police were assholes to black people, even after Paul Giamatti’s cartoonish manager Jerry Heller shows up (who oddly looks like an older, heavier Julian Assange), the police refuse to acknowledge that their offensive abuse is wrong. One final nail in the coffin of tense race relations: a particularly mean looking cop announces rap isn’t art.
A lot of Compton can’t be called nuanced, measured, or subtle. That’s not okay, that’s the entire point. This movie isn’t, and doesn’t claim to be, an accurate cinema verite-like documentarian account of N.W.A.: it’s a point of view, a remembrance, and a feeling. It’s what it was to feel like Ice Cube when his face was smashed into the ground for no reason by a herd of bullish police officers, it’s what it was like to try and make more of yourself from the humblest of beginnings, and it’s what it was like to rebel and represent. That restless fight ‘em back feeling led to one of N.W.A.’s most eternally prescient songs: Fuck Tha Police, an anthem demonizing the pervasive racism experienced by African Americans all over the U.S.. N.W.A.’s political reach became stand-in activism, giving people a voice who used to show symptoms of aphonia.
Accuracy was never a goal, and if you want to you can read into who’s portrayed the best and who’s also listed as a producer. But it’s their story, and they can tell it how they want. Beyond historical truth, Straight Outta Compton captures the truth of moment, and along with charismatic performances by the main cast, you get a sense of what it was like to be any one of them at any particular moment. This is an accomplishment that shouldn't be minimized or looked over. Emulating an experience is a powerful ask for any movie to do, especially one with such a politically uneasy history.
But the storytelling is tight (if overlong a tad), and once the tropes start rolling in when the pulsing first half hour devolves into a typical rise and fall story, so much of Compton fires on so many cylinders asking for more is an act of selfishness. There’s all the usual beats known to that done genre, and the ride to the end is more 60 miles per hour than a hundred. Yes, Jerry Heller is a money-grubbing troll and you know it the second you meet him, yes characters are recklessly violent and even maddeningly stupid, and yes, there’s betrayals, unfettered capitalism, and passive misogyny. But this film is a document of essence, and that essence is N.W.A..
B+
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]]>Joshua Oppenheimer is a courageous filmmaker. He’s courageous for many reasons, beginning with his iron willed determinism for truth. It’s a cliche but he’s earned it–he goes where few filmmakers have gone before, putting himself in harm’s way in a double role as investigative journalist and artist. His bravery was the empowering asset behind 2012s The Act of Killing, the companion piece to his latest film, The Look of Silence, where they each act as both prequel and sequel to the other. He’s courageous because he spent years in Indonesia with psychopaths, tyrants, and killers, who he was scared at any moment might turn against him. They were the perpetrators of the 1965 Suharto Coup and genocide, where anywhere from 500,000-1,000,000 (or more) people were murdered after being branded communists by the corrupt military democracy.
Sadly that shockingly high number isn’t the most jarring, or heartbreaking, fact that The Act of Killing and The Look of Silence explores. It’s that, as Oppenheimer himself puts, the evil, perverse people that executed mass killings aren’t just still in power as city, state, and country officials, but they’re celebrated cultural icons. Specifically for their role in the killings themselves, which the country still sees as a necessary cog in the machine for the government’s need to protect itself. That’s the subject matter of Killing, following a group of famous killers, namely one named Anwar, and asking them to recreate their killings in their favorite Hollywood genres—crime picture, old style Western, musical, etc. The effect was a psychopathic dreamland and the interviews where the killers gleefully talk about grotesquely disembodying a person are as surreal as the weird movie scenes that the killers created.
For his followup to the acclaimed Killing (Like many critics, I awarded it my highest rating, for me an A+), Oppenheimer does away with elaborate formalism and to an emotionally intimate, direct approach. Our point of view is flipped, graduating from eerie perspective of killers to tragically following the victims. Adi Rukun is a 44 year old father of two, an eye doctor who specializes in glasses, and a survivor who, despite the institutional melancholia imposed on the victim’s families, is a gentle and strong soul. He’s the protagonist, and we meet him watching footage collected for The Act of Killing, specifically where two men excitedly discuss the disgusting manner they disposed of Adi’s brother. He’s filmed in a softly lit room, framed to emphasize how empty and isolated he is. The vacant space around him is nevertheless overridden with the deep hurt Adi experiences as he views the footage.
I won’t say that their method of killing was, but Adi’s deeply moved, horrified face says everything necessary about the permeating sadness that engulfs Indonesia today. Silence is largely a series of conversations between Adi and the killers, ranging from neighbors to powerful regional leaders, filmed by Oppenheimer and his crew. Adi’s hope isn’t for an argument or even an apology, but to mutually experience remorse and understanding, and find a path towards redemption. The interviewers are an attempted exorcism and Adi is the exorcist, trying to expel demons from the past and find a future less fraught with emotional and cultural turmoil.
The Look of Silence may be less stylistically bizarre, but the bared down style is the cinematic equivalent of an uncomfortable stare, making you squirm, feel uneasy, and self-reflect in the same suspended moment. Still, The Look of Silence is visually complete and doesn’t shy away from stylistic boldness. There are visual metaphors, like the poster image of a genocide perpetrator being asked to see the totality of his actions, and the tragic consequences they’ve wrought while he’s wearing a strange device to test the strength of his vision.
The behind the scenes story of how this documentary was made is almost as compelling as the documentary itself, and Oppenheimer, Adi, and the rest of the crew put themselves in harm’s way to capture the footage necessary to tell this story. When interviewing a powerful politician, Adi is given a thinly veiled threat: he’s asked where his family lives. When promoting The Look of Silence, Oppenheimer tells the interviewer they had a getaway car hidden around the area they could flee to if their lives were in that level of danger. Adding scenes illustrating the steps taken to protect themselves and to put more focus on the hazards of filming, almost like a height movie setup of planning and execution, would have given The Look of Silence a more commercial look. But the razor-focus exacted on the material to stay specific to Adi, his family, and the interviews themselves, invigorates this amazing documentary with an atmosphere of humanism that makes it all the more crushing.
As the director himself says, it would be as if surviving Jewish families interviewed Nazis if they were still in power. It’s a mind boggling idea to contemplate, and a depressing one. This is absolutely hard watching, and not recommended to the faint of heart. I would hesitate to show it to my own mother, whose warmth would feel under attack. Many might feel that way. It’s as black a look as there ever has been into the human soul, an atrocity that hasn’t been awarded international attention because it’s not political enough, or headline-friendly enough, and doesn’t have enough to do with America. But it is a vital, necessary examination of conscience, where the evil of these men is a gateway into the evil in humanity as a whole. It’s universal. There’s parallelism between what happened in Indonesia and the United States’ own history with exploitation with Native Americans and later slavery, and you wonder how many other places in the world have occurrences like this that are still recent history.
This isn’t a film about condemning evil men and their evil deeds, but to reflect on the evil in us and how to rise above it. And not once does it fall into a fatiguing session of armchair philosophy, never telling us what to think and why; instead, Oppenheimer artfully and delicately conveys wells of emotion through the mere construction of his documentary that’s made mostly of conversations.
A
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]]>In some ways, this is an 'in defense of.' I liked Fantastic Four. Totally manic and baring the fraudulent hand of studio interference, Fantastic Four should be everything except fantastic. Except that it kind of is. Not all the time and definitely not in the disastrous last twenty minutes, but writer-director Josh Trank’s second movie isn’t the garbage compactor mess many thought it was. I’ll be honest, from the tabloid-friendly production troubles and terrible Rotten Tomatoes rating, terrible dialogue in the trailers, ugly footage in the trailers, and just about anything else a movie can do to make you think it’ll suck, the last thing I expected was to like it. But I did. I was hooked. It was intermittent, admittedly, but for most of the running time I sat in my velvety theater cushion having an absolute blast. It plays closer to an episode of Fox’s Fringe, which I really like, or a classic setup in Doctor Who, which I love, than it does to Iron Man, Batman, or any other superhero-man movie out there. It’s closest cousin might be Guardians of the Galaxy in how purely, unapologetically, even joyously sci-fi this is in concept and in execution. Fans looking for Fantastic Four won’t be disappointed so much as enraged, but an open mind (and a double shot of low expectations) reveals Trank’s movie as the fascinating failure that it is.
Much of what you’ve heard is nevertheless true. The performances are awkward but sort of charming, despite Kate Mara giving a performance so wooden you wouldn’t be faulted to think she’s imitating a park bench, with Miles Teller, Michael B. Jordan, and Jamie Bell lacking chemistry that actually compliments the socially awkward nature of their characters. This isn’t a superhero movie in any traditional sense. Within the screenplay of endless platitudes on being the best version of yourself, the focus isn’t hurrying the heroes into gaining their powers to save the day, it’s the adventure of scientific discovery. The botched, rushed edit cuts out vital parts of Trank’s original vision, but the hurried pace actually keeps things rolling along and surprisingly focused. It’s less boom-clash-whack and more science-science-science, with a streamlined plot revolving around the next vital step in scientific discovery. Some critics have said the first hour is exposition. It’s not. This is the story.
Masterful composer Philip Glass was hired for the score, whose music is most recognizable for its inspiration on The Matrix and recently Interstellar, and that choice educates on the intended tone of Fantastic Four. Mysterious, otherworldly, but strangely hopeful.
Instead of a pepper-haired father figure, Teller’s Reed Richards is a boy-genius inventor who wouldn’t be out of place in E.T. or the Spielberg love letter Super 8. Missing social grace but full of wonder and ingenuity, he walks past usual nerd cliches and becomes a sort of everyman despite being a genius. As a boy (young Reed played by Owen Judge), he teams up with the brooding Ben Grimm (Bell as an adult, Evan Hannemann as a kid) to steal car parts to fuel his invention: a teleportation device. Only instead of transporting you from, say, Chicago to Atlanta, it’s Chicago to another freaking dimension. Years later at a gee-whiz science fair, Reeds and Grimm meet the dismissive Sue Storm (Mara) and her encouraging father Dr. Franklin Storm (Reg E. Cathey), who wants to bring the teleportation project to the big leagues. Also vital to the team is Sue Storm’s brother, Johnny (Jordan). Like everyone else, he’s an underwritten role with only a few character details, but the quickened pace of the story doesn’t need more than that.
From securing funding for the bigger, better version of the teleportation machine (with Reeds and Grimm now college age) to the design of the pods that ultimately transport characters from one dimension to another, Fantastic Four feels like a TV Show Pilot directed by J.J. Abrams but written by David Cronenberg. In fact, Cronenberg’s The Fly is an awesome and unlikely source of inspiration for Trank’s shockingly audacious version of a superhero movie, and like that 1986 classic where a man teleports himself with a fly by accident and slowly turns into a man-sized insect, the tone slips from the exhilarating scientific discovery to the grotestities of body horror. Also as in The Fly, alcohol is the fuel of a premature foolhardy leap into the unknown, as Reed and crew teleport themselves into the other dimension themselves. This first major effects-driven sequence has unfinished CGI (that’s kind of terrible), but the tingling sense of discovering the undiscovered makes the set piece sincerely exciting.
Things, of course, go horribly wrong and they’re each (somehow) tainted by a specific element, their powers being a respective manifestation of rocks, fire, or an energy blast. Post-transformation Grimm suffers immeasurably as a disturbing rock monster, caged in a painful body he didn’t ask for and that he doesn’t understand. Johnny Storm, a flaming man, writhes trapped on a table he involuntarily consumed in fire, screaming as he involuntarily tortures himself by being unable to control his new abilities. Reed stretches, and Sue Storm can cast energy fields and turns invisible. But Sue doesn’t call them abilities. She labels them as the equivalent of disfigurements that need a cure. The characters suffer as much as the main character of The Fly suffered as he slowly morphed into a disgusting fly. My face cringed, and while I didn’t know these characters well—the bad edit and the even worse screenplay saw to that—I truly felt for them.
Fantastic Four’s structure makes a weird amount of sense in retrospect: while the first stretch of the movie was totally zoomed in on the science itself, the second stretch shows the characters becoming the embodiment of a science project gone wrong, creating a thematic continuity that isn’t apparent at first glance. Making superpowers into the gross consequence of a science project is, if nothing else, ballsy. From there, Fantastic Four turns into a lethal spy thriller where the black coats try to exploit the metamorphosized heroes into weapons of mass destruction. How it got greenlit I’ll never know—this was supposed to be a kid’s movie.
The biggest offense, though, isn’t the weird editing or atrocious dialogue. The bogus third act (that's really only 20 minutes long) that’s so bad the United States Government labeled it as radioactive waste. Dr. Doom, a non-character played by Tony Kebbell, gets one good scene as the villain. One, but it’s a doozy. The rest of the ending, a puked-out indecipherable stew of bad CGI, worse dialogue, and offensive action, won’t leave anyone walking out of the theater feeling good about anything. Especially themselves for having spent the money on a ticket. Still, before that turning point manufactured almost entirely by the studio without Trank’s consent, his conception of Fantastic Four was, dare I say it, visionary. Full of flaws nobody could ever ignore, from hammy dialogue to a bizarre editing job that smooshes scenes together, Trank succeeded in crafting an original, atypical work. I can’t hold the movie people wanted against the movie that it is, a flawed but often compelling movie about mad scientists just trying to grow up.
C+
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]]>Like Academy Award Winner Kathryn Bigelow’s critically lauded The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty, the bracing “War on Drugs” documentary Cartel Land takes aim at being an A-political thriller. As executive producer, similarities between her last two films (that in many circles are called modern classics) and this are in abundance, but it’s director Matthew Heineman and his truly daring creative vision that makes this one of the must-see documentaries of the year. With from-the-headlines relevancy, Cartel Land takes on the hot-button issue of the “War on Drugs” with crazed determinism — Heineman interviewed actual cartel members while operating the camera himself. There are firefights, and they are captured in real time. Intense. If some documentaries aim for a clinical, sanitized “talking heads” approach, Cartel Land is down, dirty, and a fly on the wall. The filmmakers are unafraid, or at least bravely willing, to get knee-deep into the action and the result is often thrilling. Moreover, Heineman and his filmmaking team have a talent for on-the-go cinematic beauty, giving the documentary a big-screen sheen that never undercuts the realism of the doc.
In a Mexican-border spin on A Tale of Two Cities, we spend our time in two main locations fit with two protagonists. Heineman poises them as the U.S./Mexican “version” of the same thing: a self-armed vigilante fighting against the Cartel. The first of the two follows Arizona Vigilante and Border Patrolman Tim “Nailer” Foley, a gun-toting family man with a southern drawl who tells us the closest police or military help is a forever away. What began for him as a typical border patrol to catch and turn over illegal immigrants quickly escalated into a militarized, organized force to combat the encroaching cartel. The more compelling of Cartel Land’s two protagonists, though, is Dr. José Manuel Mireles, charismatic figurehead for the vigilante militant group Autodefensas. He leads them through a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses and warm, plain-speaking leadership, taking his men from city to city around Michoacán, Mexico. They march through, identifying, incarcerating, and, in some cases, killing the Cartel members inhabiting these towns.
The violence is often grueling but Heineman is unapologetic in his quest to capture realism. Scenes show Foley and his men, outfitted in camo and assault rifles, prowling the arid Arizona hills at night, trying to apprehend or kill cartel scouts. For these men, danger is a chosen way of life, closer to a calling than a career. They feel motivated from personal tragedy but also national defense, seemingly bringing full circle America’s long-held obsession with vigilantism. While Foley’s story isn’t as explosive as the exploits of Mireles, seeing a United States everyman take charge isn’t just an important part of this story, it’s necessary. He’s one of the answers to a long-held question consistently probed by politicians: how to deal with the cartel. Whether what he does is just or moral in nature is a question we’re left to ponder.
In fact, Heineman includes footage of the two protagonists saying and doing things that can only be described as morally compromised. Mireles, charismatic and virtuous to the public eye, is shown semi-creepily preying on young women less than half his age. And having met his wife earlier in the documentary, by the time he openly cheats on her, we feel an extra ping of defensiveness for his life partner. Likewise, Foley’s casual racism, an apparent consequence of illegal immigrants that forced him out of work, is not glossed over. Regardless your personal politics on immigration, making it an important prerogative for you to turn over often starving, battered, and bruised families, would not sit well with most people. But it’s exactly that Cartel Land is so forthright and honest that it earns a biting level of truth. Heineman won’t look away at the unsavory aspects of its two protagonists in the same way he won’t look away from the violence and bitter realities of the war on drugs. Watching Foley and Mireles doesn’t feel prepared or carefully orchestrated with pre-shooting and instead plunges you into the heart of darkness of anti-cartel vigilantism by proxy of its flawed main characters.
Curiously, much of the compelling content was spontaneous and not possibly planned at the start of the shoot, such as Dr. Mireles’ plane crashed in what possibly or even probably was an assassination attempt. His delicate recovery is chronicled in suitably dramatic fashion, concluding with a tear-jerking reunion with family; his face is tragically partially paralyzed. Likewise, there’s a raid by the corrupt Mexican government on the Autodefensas that tried to confiscate their weapons—a breathless, clock-ticking moment of pure suspense—that just coincidentally happened as the cameras were rolling.
Documentaries can paradoxically reek of artifice, recreations that capture an element of the truth instead of the raw, unedited version of reality (Werner Herzog famously shoots his documentaries that way, calling the style ecstatic truth), but because the institutions at play in Cartel Land are so massive and clearly out of the field of manipulation by the filmmakers—the government, the autodefensas, the cartel— these events unfold bracingly and with uncommon hard-hitting authenticity. As a radical study in vigilantism and a vital piece of the puzzle in the crippling War on Drugs, Cartel Land succeeds.
B+
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]]>Of The Gift’s three distinct acts, the first is by far the best. As a short film, isolated and bifurcated from the remaining hour and change, it’s a startlingly well-observed analysis in social commentary that often left me twitching in my seat. The film is actor Joel Edgerton’s first time in the director’s chair, and he brilliantly uses the peculiarities around social awkwardness as a tool for razor-sharp suspense. At a cushy dinner party, Simon (Jason Bateman) and his wife Robyn (Rebecca Hall) enter an uncomfortable tangle of looks held too long, shifty-eyed silences, and an obvious vulnerability in how people speak when trying to conceal festering interpersonal tension. After relocating from Chicago to L.A. for Simon’s new job, Robyn lost her design firm, so when champaign hobnobbers inquire what she does for a living, Hall reacts with a slight shame in her face. In a similarly fine-tuned performance, Bateman plays Simon a few notches too loud, making his character a forceful, compensatory character who declares Robyn still does “so much.” With Robyn sidelined in the conversation circle and submissive, unable to speak for herself and Simon so over-cranked and quasi-macho, we see a stunning portrait of slickly specific details amounting to a devilish display of interpersonal awkwardness..
The first half hour or so deftly reminds of the Swedish Cannes winner Force Majeure (PSA: now streaming on Netflix), but it’s the rest that’s the problem. What was a measured dance of Edgerton’s ice cold and slow moving camera ominously observing slightly off human behavior stops being smart or cunning -- the two necessary ingredients of a slow-boil domestic thriller. The Gift’s nucleus is a so far unmentioned element named Gordo, “the weirdo’, the film’s best role that Edgerton cast himself to play along with his duties as writer and director. After running into Simon and Robyn seemingly by chance when they’re out homeshopping, Gordo reminds Simon they were old high school buddies and, surely, should catch up soon. Except that, while they went to the same high school, they weren’t friends and possibly even, as Edgerton’s script hints early on, were enemies. Carrying the social behavior motif on his shoulders, Gordo epitomizes what we’re meant to think of as the ultimate stalkerish weirdo.
He begins intrusively sending gifts to their new home. Of course, he overheard their address instead of being told it. Suddenly, he starts showing up. Next, he invites himself in. Multiple times. When Robyn’s home. Alone. Not even Edgerton’s nuanced performance as creep of the year can stop the film from being on the nose, although Gordo’s bound to remind you of at least one person you wish you didn’t know. The problem emerges when The Gift turns into a ridiculous game of cat and mouse that in real life circumstances would be easily resolved while also playing off every old-hat trick in the thriller book. Oh gosh: the dog’s missing. Did Gordo take the dog? Can we prove it? How could we?? It has the genre trappings of Secret Window or maybe a $5 airport novel, but none of the storytelling tact to make it as fun as that film, which is already a guilty pleasure. Almost every suspicion I had of what the next twist would be I guessed well in advance, but there’s pleasure in identifying which clues are red herrings and which climax in sadistic secrets and reveals later on.
Long sections of The Gift pass by without much happening and without the tight wired suspense of the first half hour. The stretch through the middle is a muddled drag, and even as things ramp up in the finale, the shock value is diminished not just by the lack of realism, but by a weird lack of plot or character development. What we get instead of a domestic drama/thriller is a breadcrumb trail of clues, each new morsel given out every 5 or 10 minutes, waiting for them to add up. This builds up to the ending that follows the same obvious pattern as many psychological thrillers before it, but to name which films it borrows from would be a spoiler. Some in my theater were gasping for breath and in a state of shock, but affected as I was (a medium amount), it wasn’t the guttural impact The Gift so desperately needed it to land a successful finish. Luckily The Gift is never boring, and the crisp tonal space of L.A. suburbia keeps things feeling unsettled but rarely in more than a minor key.
Edgerton’s a smart guy, and clearly designed his quirky debut with a defining theme in mind. Bateman, famous for his unlikeable everyman in Arrested Development, plays a character who is, in essence, in a state of arrested development. Early on he notes that some people change dramatically after high school while others stay exactly the same, clearly labeling Gordo the “weirdo” as identically strange as decades before. But it’s Simon and Robyn, and eventually you realize it’s every character in the film that’s locked in stasis, making this a movie ultimately ruminating on the possibilities of change. Secrets of past ‘versions’ of these characters come to a head in the ugly finale, arguing who you are is less about growing up and a lot more about social constraint. The bad guys are still bad, they’re just forced into good behavior to keep existing in society. A scary idea in a not-so-scary film.
C+
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]]>There’s a lot going on in Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation. Like any great spy movie, there’s a complex and loosely convoluted plot of who’s who and what’s what and to whom does who owe which allegiance and—look, the inner-doings of the plot may elude some people. That’s an occupational hazard of the spy genre, of which this movie pays loving homage. Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise, obviously) is back for another mission with a snappily written script that shines with the same sharpened wit as ‘90s classic The Usual Suspects, of which Rogue Nation writer/director Christopher McQuarrie wrote the famous screenplay. There’s a whirlpool of shady allegiances, double-crosses and double double-crosses, namely by femme fatale secret agent Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson), who’s one of the joys of the film. James Bond used to be the king of the how-did-they-do-that action scene, a crown now fought over by the fuselage-dropping, hallway-spinning, truck-flipping Christopher Nolan and, well, Mission: Impossible. Rogue Nation doesn’t buck the trend; each major stunt sequence wows.
Instead of trying to top Ghost Protocol on action or just plain fun—a truly impossible mission and McQuarrie wisely chose not accept it—Rogue Nation is meaner, sleeker, and leaner than any movie in the franchise. It’s a spiritual union between the espionage focus of Brian De Palma’s original Mission: Impossible and the explosive thrills of Ghost Protocol, bringing this amazingly consistent franchise full circle. In a statement-making audacious move, Rogue Nation opens with its biggest, craziest stunt, almost as if to get it out of the way. Tom Cruise is on the side of a huge plane during takeoff, and McQuarrie shoots it in such a way to thrillingly show you Cruise did that stunt for real. The man is incredible, and he’s only out to please. There’s a confident no-fuss attitude to this sequence, classic Bond, to shed expectations quickly of what this movie is going to be.
From there, Rogue Nation goes back in time. From the old record player that showed Ethan his next mission to revisiting the immortalized movie town Casablanca, retroism isn’t just a motif but a mission statement. A spellbinding early-film opera sequence is evocative of classic Hitchcock, and other than a mid movie triple-punch crescendo where there is three death-defying action scenes are in a row, it’s back to basics. The hard-knuckled final 40 minutes (mostly) does away with car chases, absurd gadgets, and the over the top stunts that made this series famous. There’s no WMDs or nuclear warheads on the way to blow up America, just spy game chess—spy vs. spy, moving through shadows and the London fog, recalling the exact kind of sequence that once was the centerpiece of spy movies in the 1950s and ‘60s. To shrink the scale the further it goes on in this action-movie climate of ‘bigger is better’ can only be called brave. Maybe even inspired.
The delightful pairing of Cruise and Ferguson, who share the screen for most of the climax, are an updated rendition of Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn from the 1963 spy caper-satire Charade, which Rogue Nation explicitly references.
For a movie that does so much so well—and it does—the biggest flaw of Rogue Nation is that it’s not Mad Max: Fury Road. Without the adored car-mayhem spectacular of nonstop action and, surprisingly, a Marx-feminist bent, the latest Mission Impossible would have the gold medal for blockbuster of year (the next heavyweight contenders to steal the gold are James Bond or Star Wars). As is, it merely has the silver, another in a series of Tom Cruise victories where he picks projects that play to all his strengths. Cruise may be the movie’s greatest special effect, but a thin, underfed plot doesn’t have the same effortless charisma as the lead star. The particulars, few of which I’ll speak about in detail, amount to shady villains like Solomon Lane (a creepy Sean Harris) with even cloudier motives, an ‘anti-IMF’ called the Syndicate to do...something presumably bad but it’s never really said what, and apparently the CIA has had enough of Ethan and his team’s crazy antics. They want to shut down the I.M.F.. A clearer goal by the villain is a must, and it’s a noticeable problem once things get talky. It doesn't have the breathless pacing of Protocol, leaving stretches feeling unusually slow.
Missing also is Protocol’s Ocean’s 11 propulsive swagger. The memorable team from the last movie is splintered or missing (Paula Patton couldn’t return). Renner spends most of the movie isolated from the team, Simon Pegg’s hilarious Benji has been upped to co-lead with Cruise (they share an oddball chemistry that shouldn’t work but totally does) but is mostly stuck as tech-head, and series veteran Ving Rhames’ presence is fun but brief. Instead of “round up the gang” chemistry, Rogue Nation’s winning asset is Rebecca Ferguson as Faust: allegiance unknown. She’s a fiercely sexy, hyper-intelligent badass that acts as a flirtatious foil to Ethan, an Irene Adler to Sherlock Holmes. Were she alive in 1946, she might’ve replaced Lauren Bacall in iconic noir The Big Sleep. She has that oldschool leading lady look with the noirish quality of convincingly being able to get the better of any man.
And she does. She’s gets the better of Ethan Hunt. More than once. What’s surprising about Rogue Nation isn’t just that Cruise is, as always, the guy who runs, grins, and wins, but that he allows a meta-narrative to form connecting Ethan Hunt’s “character” to the real life persona of Cruise himself, and Ferguson’s character is key to that. She’s an autonomous reflection, a real character who serves the story, plot, herself, and Ethan’s character all at once. The biggest plot twist in the Mission Impossible franchise is that it’s semi-autobiographical; each movie captures the essence of where Cruise is at in his life. Ethan Hunt began as a cocky agent with a beaming smug smile, became a family man a year after Cruise bounced on Oprah's couch shouting about love, lost the ‘love of his life’ before and during Ghost Protocol, and by the time he’s on his next mission in Rogue Nation, Ethan/Cruise is doubted, ridiculed, and sometimes called crazy.
And now in 2015, from the outset, Ethan’s virtuosity as an agent is called into question. It’s not 15 minutes into the rollicking plot before he’s ambushed and abducted, next seen in ankle and wrist cuffs—powerless. Vicariously, the IMF is demonized by a prickly-haired Alec Baldwin, CIA man Alan Hunley, who has knives out for Ethan’s accomplishments. Not skill he says, but luck. Even his team members, namely Renner’s William Brandt, question his sanity and ability to problem solve. Cruise and McQuarrie are telling a story with a peculiar poignance to Cruise himself, ultimately evolving Hunt as a character, Mission: Impossible as a franchise, all while offering a strikingly honest portrait of one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. The meta-undercurrent of Ghost Protocol was infrequent but present enough to be widely observed. Here, it’s a priority. In its fifth outing, Mission: Impossible continues to show it has its very own special kind of depth, a bizarre self-reflexive puzzle that keeps captivating. Once again, Mission Accomplished.
B+
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]]>Originality isn’t a necessary condition for quality movies, but it does help. Southpaw, the latest movie by Training Day filmmaker Antoine Fuqua, is a telegraphed paint-by-numbers boxing drama you’ve seen a hundred times before. Perceptive (or just bored) viewers may leave the theaters in a cloud of prophetic glee having predicted it beat by beat by beat. The formula, as surely taught in screenwriting 101, is rise, fall, and rise again, complete with the expected furnishings. There’s the old cynical trainer—the boxers last hope of winning and redemption (played by a half blind and goateed Forest Whitaker). There’s the down-on-his-luck boxer full of rage, and there’s even the wife (a memorable Rachel McAdams) concerned for her husband’s body and mind. Nothing here is new. To reveal anything of Southpaw’s plot couldn’t be called a spoiler, since you probably know the ending before ever stepping into the theater. These movies are a type, and no matter what Jake Gyllenhaal says in his interview circuit promoting the film, Southpaw doesn’t break the mold in any obvious way.
Southpaw’s successes become a question of iterations and deviations rather than invention, the most important being the highs and lows of family. The plot follows orphan boxer Billy Hope just after winning the championship, who’s compelled to retire after his wife begs him to look after his family. The chemistry in these scenes is a matter of performance rather than direction, but it’s difficult not to get involved. It’s meant to be that way—Southpaw appeals to our instincts to protect family above all else, pushing our buttons from the start to get involved with these characters. This device is a matter of exploitation—it’s not the gifted storytelling of Kurt Sutter’s screenplay or the deft direction of Fuqua that stirs our hearts to the right place, it’s our gut primal response to want to protect children. Shamelessly manipulative or not, it’s an undeniably successful tactic, so when tragedy strikes the Hope family, I was, pardon the pun, hopelessly depressed for the next hour of the movie.
In addition to its drive towards family—which is what Gyllenhaal says initially attracted him to the project—what separates Southpaw from Cinderella Man or Rocky is its willingness to bask in its brooding atmosphere. Sections of Fuqua’s movie are so dour that experiencing the film’s slower second act is downright unpleasant. Like the boxer Hope trains to become, Southpaw is precise in how it hits the audience with its emotional hooks. Hope starts as a doltish, rage-fueled character, closer to a caged animal than man. Frequent readers will know I take issue with movies where it amounts to watching stupid people act stupidly. Sadly, Southpaw has a lot of that its first half: Hope is a frustrating protagonist whose constant bad choices risk him becoming unsympathetic. The too-glossy visuals clash with the rough-and-tumble tone, but the shady characters, locations, and grim lighting compliments the sadder middle of the movie.
One of the film’s strengths, however, is how it turns its darkness and nihilism into a study of shedding ego and preconceived notions of masculinity. Hope learns control whereas lesser films would have pumped him up with revenge. The ‘big fight’ the whole movie builds to is a faceoff between Hope and the man tangentially responsible for the tragedy at the heart of the plot, and instead of an emotional whirlwind of drama and fistpumping revenge, Hope becomes a relaxed, clearheaded character. Southpaw ends on a thematic high note that, in its way, forgives the baser, stupider elements of the plot and screenplay (Sutter’s dialogue won’t steal any awards).
Yes, it’s uneven. Some scenes appear to be missing, leading to a rushed, incohesive structure that rears its ugly head in the third act, like a driver realizing he has to charge from 40 to 80 to get to work on time. The unrelenting dark tone will undoubtedly be a turn off for some, but it’s also what allows a uniquely strong thematic core to slowly take shape. Likewise, Gyllenhaal’s own performance is something of a paradox. Muscled and fierce, he underwent an insane physical transformation to play Hope. More than merely look the part of a boxer, the fight sequences and how he performs them is one of the most powerful moments of big screen acting in 2015. The script relegates him to mumbling, but the weakened humanity of the character forces sympathy even during the film’s ugliest moments.
Gyllenhaal is Southpaw’s greatest asset, and that he’s in almost every scene invigorates this cliched and scattered movie with a needed energy. Knowing nothing of boxing prevents me from having an educated guess on their authenticity, but they carry a biting credibility, and Gyllenhaal is a leading reason why. Playing his daughter, Oona Laurence gives an unusually sensitive performance for a young girl, and their chemistry is a major plus. It must be said, though, that like the rest of the movie, the hard work and talent on both sides of the camera reaps no great reward.
C+
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]]>James Cameron’s Terminator movies are all about preventing the apocalypse. Cameron named the worldwide cataclysm “Judgement Day”, when machines gained artificial intelligence and violently seized control of Earth by blowing most of it up. It’s a nightmarish vision of the future, to be sure, one sci-fi fans can tell you is a staple of the genre. Few movies show the end of all things better than The Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgement Day, honest to god classics that ambitiously played with time-travel. John Conner leads the resistance, freedom fighters railing against the machine overlords, prompting the machines send skin covered bots, Terminators, back to kill his mom before John is even born, making the machines “win.” Studio executives love reversals, like having a girl Terminator instead of a guy (as seen in the surprisingly watchable Rise of the Machines), or turning a chase series—killer robots chases humans, humans fire oh so many shotgun rounds at robot—into a grim faced war movie, as sadly seen and hopefully forgotten in Terminator Salvation. The latest reversal is of an altogether different kind. Terminator Genisys itself is Judgement Day, an inexcusable apocalypse of bad, tired and violently uncreative moviemaking that left me fighting to fall asleep.
I sometimes get asked which movies I’d like to live inside of. In this case the answer is certainly the original Men in Black; call Kay and Jay and hit me with a memory erase. I need it. If you see this movie—which you only should if you’ve run out of wet paint to watch dry—you’ll need your memory erased to minimize the cognitive damage. Nothing makes sense. Dialogue, characters, action, all play fast and loose with sense, logic, or otherwise the boundaries of pure honest to god common sense, incidentally transforming itself into a post-modern masterpiece where the essential truths and laws of existence no longer matter. I’ve met drug abusing crazies on Chicago’s CTA train system that make more sense than the characters in this movie. Don’t see it. Don’t. When the credits rolled, everyone left the theater with the same somber silence they might when walking through a wake or funeral, trepidatious of calling attention to morbidity. But this movie is death. Genisys is the death of creativity, the death of inspiration, and the death of your brain cells.
They say some movies make you dumber for having seen them—this is one of them. The plot, a mind-mash of slurred nonsense, amounts to Kyle Reese (Jai Courtney)—the time traveling badass hero of the first Terminator, being sent back in time by John Conner (Jason Clarke) save Sarah Conner (Emilia Clarke) from yet another Terminator, a disturbing CGI de-aged Arnold Schwartzenager mean to look like he did back in the 80s. Only—plot twist—Clarke’s Sarah Conner is already a badass warrior, and it’s she, not Kyle Reese, who gets the iconic line “Come with me if you want to live.” The first 20 minutes or so are a shot for shot reinterpretation of the original Terminator, executed with the production value of a frat party with themed costumes. Everyone is miscast in their one-note roles, glossed up and looking pretty. The Terminator was all about grunge, grit, and a feeling of dirt under your finger nails. Michael Biehn as Reese and Linda Hamilton as Conner were allowed to look hurt, to look human. In a movie about man vs machine, this was a vital creative decision, but since Emilia Clarke and Courney are so prettied up, so glamorized, their characters scream fake.
A mysterious benevolent force from the future, conspicuously left unsolved as sequel bait, sent back Arny when Sarah Conner was just a kid–he’s old now and even has an in-joke catchphrase to make it okay: “I’m old, but I’m not obsolete.” He’s a father figure, Kyle Reese as the bantering fish out of water boyfriend, and if this sounds awkward and terrible, that the actors get an F in chemistry makes it unwatchable.
What this amounts to is a Star Trek style reboot by going into a totally new timeline, remolding and even erasing the previous four installments. J.J. Abrams made it work with his sparked direction and snappy storytelling, not to mention that seeking out the novel avenues of scientific discovery is inherent to Trek in its core. Genysis is the opposite and in every way. Star Trek is at least one totally new adventure per movie, Terminator is the same story refolded like origami into as many new shapes as the original design can sustain with four of five of these stories amounting to save one of the Conner’s while preventing the end of the world. If Terminator and Terminator 2 and were all about averting the apocalypse, each subsequent time the world is saved it necessarily means the last time—the last movie—was for nothing. Everything is an on the nose callback, from the plot, dialogue, to the action, and these reminders of better movies provoke a maddening realization you’re consuming off-off-off brand entertainment months after the recommended sell by date.
Letting poorly conceived sequels rust the glow of their predecessors is an unfair business, but Terminator challenges you not to. Genisys trivializes the struggles and battles fought in all the previous movies, and by the time they try to time-jump to 2017 to stop Genysis, the operating system that launches “Skynet”, from launching, you wonder why this plot exists at all. Why can’t Conner, Reese, and the dadinator just live their lives and construct and elaborate plan instead of recklessly jumping into the future without a plan, or means, or anything? The premise of the plot alone is befuddling.
But what about the action junkies just wanting the latest adrenaline fix? James Cameron is one of the best action directors on the planet. Game of Thrones alum Alan Taylor is not. Genisys doesn’t have action scenes so much as the occasional spike in loudness. I can’t clearly recite a defining set piece from the entire movie—every scene rear-ends the next with a big punch or explosion until you’ve got a 10 car pile up of bad scenes slammed together. Instead of an elaborately staged chase sequence, like the famous truck-helicopter dual in Terminator 2: Judgement Day, you’ve got clipped snippets of action stuck here or there, brought to life with the worst CGI effects in a movie this expensive in years. This is the easiest F I’ve given in a long time, a disastrous failure for a franchise I hope won’t be back.
F
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]]>Normally I don’t get personal in my reviews, but Peter Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen’s Inside Out makes it impossible not to. By the end, I was looking back at my entire childhood. Ball games, video games, card games, pool parties, unwanted clowns, oversized Slurpees my parents quickly regretted letting me have, movies, so many movies, first friends, best friends, and no longer friends, girlfriends. This is a kids’ movie with an earned nostalgia for adults, one I bet hits parents a lot harder than not. Inside Out is an ultra-complicated, high concept, semi-science fiction, fantasy movie loaded to the brim with psychology, philosophy, art, and humanity. It’s all beautifully presented as simple and straightforwardly as possible, perfectly palatable for kids and playing a deeper, smarter game for adults. There’s a simple takeaway theme: all emotions are important, and maturing into knowing how to use them is a vital part of growing up. But, like all of Inside Out’s dualities, more elusive, intellectual ideas are beneath the surface. This is the classic Pixar formula that plays to all audiences, and they haven’t made a movie on this level in years. It’s not tops for me, Wall-E and Ratatouille are some of my favorites ever, but Inside Out is a gangbusters crowdpleaser with a soulful, hyper-intelligent touch.
Using a complex dual narrative, Inside Out follows an 11-year-old girl named Riley (Kaitlyn Dias) both inside and outside of her head, thus the strikingly literal title. Outside her head, Riley is a typical if particularly cute girl. Inside, however, is an abstractionist playground of warring, conflicting emotions that are fighting for control. What’s usually a summary of human behavior and cognition becomes a spellbinding story about a young girl’s (five) emotions, who are characters themselves living in a “headquarters” control room that sees what she sees. It’s a surreal setup, and the animated set is furnished with the stylings of abstract art. She’s forced to leave her happy homestead in Minnesota for a disappointing San Francisco (broccoli pizza? yuck!), a change she and her mom (Diane Lane) endure for dad’s (Kyle MacLachlan) business ventures.
Officially, Riley is the main character, but arguably Amy Poehler’s Joy is the lead, a glowing yellow Tinkerbell with hip blue hair. Second to Joy is Sadness (Phyllis Smith), looking like a miniature blue Velma from Scooby Doo. There’s also the valley girl inspired Disgust (Mindy Kaling), the red and fuming shirt-and-tie Anger (Lewis Black), and the bumbling purple-pink Fear (Bill Hader). Together—and only together—can they manage Riley’s tumultuous emotional state as a stranger in a strange land, but things go south when Joy and Sadness are separated from the other three. The clock is on and it’s a race against time through Ripley’s subconscious to get back. There’s another major character we meet later on, Bing Bong (Richard King), but I’ll say nothing other than he’s wonderful. An instant-classic character for Pixar and delightful in every way. Hint: He’s made of cotton candy and resembles an elephant.
Explaining more would become hopelessly convoluted and Inside Out works best as an experience anyway. It’s less of a story than a visceral think-piece on emotion and consciousness, densely packed with references to the abstract art of Picasso-Braque cubism, deconstructive thought, cognitive psychology theory, and popular culture, all doubling as clever storytelling as much as in-text citations. A reference to Vertigo’s movie poster is merely the second best homage to a classic movie. Kids won’t get this but they don’t have to. The simple surface story—that a girl is going through a hard time and the five main emotions have to save the day—is wildly fun. It’s also consistently laugh-out-loud funny, gorgeously animated, and has the envy of every Hollywood release: something for everyone. The voice cast is one of Pixar’s best groups yet, and experiencing Joy and Sadness go from the sprawling index of “long-term memory” into a dreamland that resembles an SNL sketch show is breathtakingly unusual for an American movie. It’s more Hayao Miyazaki than any other Pixar movie to date, with his castles in the sky and Howl’s moving castles and spirit-world bathhouses. After a nod to My Neighbor Totoro in Toy Story 3, the influence should hardly surprise.
But what makes Inside Out conceptually astonishing can sometimes make it a little clinical, a criticism raised towards Christopher Nolan’s somewhat similar dream-heist movie Inception. Like Nolan’s dream labyrinth, the mind of Riley is a highly complex system of rules, designated levels, and interconnections, an uncanny mind palace that perfectly personifies how the brain processes memory. The filmmakers clearly studied the science, and it shows; an old psychology professor would see Inside Out with glee. That comes at a cost though, effectively reducing the characters to mouthpieces for ideas, the plot into a running stream of symbols, and sometimes making it an impenetrable, cold affair. I love Inception, but for the first time I understand why some people feel that way.
Joy, Sadness, and all the rest aren’t exactly bad characters, it’s that they aren’t characters at all. They’re the divided shades of a real person, Riley, but since this is of course by design, making the obvious criticism of “weak writing” seem inapplicable. The three screenwriters made a radical move by pinning most of the drama and action on non-characters that by definition are unchangeable. What you have is learning more about them as they learn more about each other, and the payoffs lead to some truly eye watering moments of poignancy. But in between the big emotional pulls, and Inside Out has plenty that left me choked up, the film never calls full steam ahead. It’s when Joy and Sadness are in danger, whether running on collapsing train tracks or fleeing from a cave troll-sized clown, that the action feels passive. Joy is forever one note and shoots off happy-go-lucky catchphrases like she’s got an AK-47 made of rainbows and sunshine. Her character “arc” is pivotally important to the point of the piece, but she’s so pure and deliberately simple I had nothing to invest in, to care about. All of the “emotions’ are this way.
On some level, it’s a circus act of abstract ideas running from other abstract ideas, and the emotional distance between you and Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Anger, and Fear doesn’t freeze the adventure but it does leave it a little chilled. There is fun to be had, and Pete Docter and Ronaldo Del Carmen have such a firm grasp on the innovative screenplay that the constant cleverness and punchy direction never let Inside Out stop being a great time at the movies. This is an easy movie to recommend. And in fact, I’ll recommend it to you right now. See Inside Out. It’s the easiest sell of 2015 so far, an amazing Rubik’s Cube of ideas and drama that still needed a bit more solving.
B+
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]]>If you like mid-tier fast food, you’ll probably love Jurassic World. Colin Trevorrow’s Jurassic World largely does what’s promised, but only the minimum requirement to qualify. A park, “Jurassic World”, is built, dinosaurs escape, and the ancient beasts not only fight humans but target each other. It’s half monster movie and half Kaiju battle spectacular, directed with less flair than last year’s great but meh-acted Godzilla, although World has a lot more action. The big action scenes are sufficient but rarely communicate a sense of inspiration. Action feels contrived rather than arising naturally, and there’s little creativity on either sides of the camera to supplement the lack of genuine suspense or scares. It’s quantity over quality and an absence of a defining moment, other than the admittedly kickass finale that’s a huge homage to James Cameron’s Aliens, pokes a major hole in the big screen experience. World conjures an actual feeling of adventure, a rare commodity to be sure, but it’s stop-start and the leads lack chemistry. Luckily, World doesn’t try to walk in the T-Rex shaped footprints of the classic, a novel but unsuccessful ambition I’ll get to later. So, really, thank God for Chris Pratt.
Pratt is a wholly believable everyman. Instead of being born into Hollywood royalty or trained in top-level acting academics like graduates from Juilliard, he’s just a really driven guy who happened to become famous. A dude that earned his keep and won it through hard work and a bit of luck. On and off the camera, Pratt is a guy you’d grab a beer with. He reveals the difference between talent and screen presence. It’s talent that got him noticed, but presence is what turned him into a star. Chris Pratt is the kind of actor you’d follow anywhere, from space prisons and baseball fields to being a lovable loser in Parks and Recreation, even into a passively enjoyable monster movie like Jurassic World. It’s Pratt, not the effects, and certainly not the plot that’s so fuzzy it makes TV-snow seem clear, that acts as World’s call to adventure. A lot of the action hinges on absurd, and while the absurdity is part of what makes it fun, Pratt grounds all of it.
His character Owen Grady, an ex-Navy sort of Velociraptor-whisperer in the vein of dog whisperers you see on TV, is unusually pro-nature and open-minded for the typical bag-of-meat hero, but it’s Pratt who gives a soul to a movie easy to dismiss as soulless. Jurassic World will age terribly, a Transformers-esque clunky action movie all CGI that often already looks a few years past its prime. If that’s true, Pratt might be World’s fountain of youth. If he believes he’s running from a gigantic, hybrid, albino T-Rex-like mutant dinosaur, then hell, I do too. If I return to World, he’ll be what makes the sure-to-be-dated effects believable.
The other three principles, Bryce Dallas Howard’s cold-faced capitalist Claire Dearing (who doesn’t want kids) and her nephews Gray (Ty Simpkins) and Zach Mitchell (Nick Robinson), struggle to find a distinguishing identity. She’s bad with kids and they’re kind of annoying (Gray is the overexcited kid you hope you never have to babysit and Mitchell is a hormonal teen punk), so wanting everyone to get along is a non-goal. And unlike the analog, robust theme park from Jurassic Park, Jurassic World is more than a fully functional worldwide phenomenon. It’s proudly modernist. Lots of glass, lots of stainless steel, but also lots less personality. The already artificial-looking locale of Jurassic World was brought to life with questionable CGI, and the impersonal, anti-tactile aesthetic undercuts the original’s thrilling sense of actually being there. Jurassic Park director Steven Spielberg, ever the master of audience manipulation, knew how to activate senses beyond the frame, including the sophisticated arousal of imagining what a gigantic pile of Triceratops shit smells and even feels like.
This is also a message movie but not a very good one. An early version of the title was probably Jurassic World: An Intermittently Fun Cautionary Tale of Capitalism. Evolving from Jurassic Park’s themes of greed, family and the chaotic states of life, screenwriters Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver, Colin Trevorrow, and Derek Connolly try to unite World’s many disparate narrative strands through subtext. There’s contrasting examples of wanton capitalist enterprise, the diminishing returns of YouTube instant gratification, and the military industrial complex. Howard’s character ties into that clumsily strewn web through the edge of sexual politics. If that sounds like a sour stew of ideas, it’s because it totally is, and seeing Claire’s anal obsession with end-of-year figures “up 2% from last year” shoulder to shoulder with Vincent D’Onofrio’s security man that wants to militarize raptors—really, that’s a thing—is nothing short of bizarre. If Jurassic Park is full of the “Spielberg face”, where characters gaze offscreen in awe and wonder, Jurassic World might make you experience the “confused face” or the “perplexed face.”
Spielberg handpicked Trevorrow for this gig, a weird fact since Trevorrow apparently saw Spielberg’s masterful original as a pure over-the-top 1950s science fiction creature feature. In many ways it was, but it was also so much more, and straight ‘50s sci-fi is exactly how Jurassic World is directed. True to the politically loud plots of the era, raptors are in demand for counter-terrorism—a remaining thread from an earlier, even stranger version of the screenplay—and in the meantime they run side by side with gun-toting heroes on motorcycles. Jurassic Park is an action-thriller; this is a 1950s fever dream.
*light spoilers for the ending* Even the finale, which shows an unlikely alliance between dinosaurs, exchanges sense for a kind of dramatic point on a theme of ‘bonding.’ *end of spoilers* The ending, while awesome in the true sense of the word, is campier than anything in RKO’s 1933 King Kong.
Jurassic World has the veneer of sexism, an observation that Avengers man Joss Whedon tweeted to some media controversy. “I’m too busy wishing this clip wasn’t 70’s era sexist. She’s a stiff, he’s a life-force - really? Still?” Luckily the finished film might (somewhat) assuage his fears. Claire takes an unusual amount of initiative to save both herself and the chaos-erupting park, and she arguably has a greater hand in saving it than Owen. World’s reversal of gender roles is so subtle it’s blink and you’ll miss it, so while I wouldn’t dare to call this a feminist film, it doesn’t spit in the face of the still progressive Jurassic Park either (which saw Laura Dern’s Dr. Ellie Sattler as a self-reliant badass). And while some corners call World sexist for having an “independent” female lead that is the typical clinical businesswoman and therefore above having kids, it’s a from-the-headlines statistical fact that in many parts of the world birth rates are dropping partially due to women choosing careers over family. A misguided bid to make Claire feel relevant, perhaps. Still, Jurassic World roars louder than the sequels we'd rather forget.
C
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Netflix Picks is a feature with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
Leon the Professional (Luc Besson, 1994) -
Famously one of the widest gaps between critics and audiences, with a 72% critics rating and 95% audience score, this is the rare action movie equal part campy, kickass, and endearing. Jean Reno plays hyper-slick assassin Leon (the professional), dolling out graphic, awesome kills that make this one of the best action movies of the 90s. Besson’s stylish and kinetic visuals intensify scenes from an exciting 9 to an exhilarating 11, but what really makes Leon the Professional and honest to god classics are two key characters and the actors who play them. Gary Oldman gives one of the great all-time villain performances as mobster Stansfield who kills while listening to Shakespeare on his walkman. But it’s a young Natalie Portman that melts your heart, and as she and the titular assassin bond in a joint fight against Stanfield you’ll feel the brilliance of the juxtaposition.
Mission Impossible (Brian De Palma, 1996) -
You know the thumping iconic theme, you know the loved director from Carrie, Scarface, and The Untouchables, and of course you know the last great movie star, Tom Cruise, leading the first great spy movie since James Bond. Unlike the bombastic (but still rocking fun) sequels, the original Mission Impossible has an actual, winding plot. One that refreshingly you ought to pay attention to. Cruise’s fresh faced Ethan Hunt leads a charismatic team who stage what for my money is one of the most exhilarating heist sequences in cinema history—you know the one, and if you don’t, you should. Now. Watch it.
Breakfest at Tiffany’s (Black Edwards, 1961)
No performance is lovelier than Audrey Hepburn as the flighty, fickle, but actually intoxicating Holly Golightly. One look and you’re a goner. She’s an accidental seductress, less a flirt and more of an elegant romance hypnotist, unwittingly beguiling men with little more than a glance. She’s difficult to characterize, the kind of impossible girl that drives you crazy as you fall in love. Breakfest at Tiffany’s is defined by Hepburn’s turn, but it didn’t need to be. This is one of the most breezy, giddily entertaining movies ever made. At times, it’s borderline euphoric. The definitive romantic comedy of its time, Golightly becomes entangled with a struggling but skilled writer, and their relationship helped define the modern love story.
Bronson (Nicolas Winding Refn, 2008)
Bronson is the movie that put Tom Hardy on the map. Hardy’s extraordinary in this early example of his limitless talent. A violently embellished account that’s also full of embellished violence, Nicolas Winding Refn, writer and director of cult smash Drive, tells the story of the real life “most violent prisoner in Britain”, Michael Gordon Peterson. Refn’s biting prison drama is a butchering tale with outlandish black comedy that bookends the biting horror and suspense, and knows when to push what button to get the biggest response possible. It’s a gruesome but irresistibly thrilling film, surreal to the max, and at a speedy 90 minutes Bronson is well worth your time.
Cast Away (Robert Zemeckis, 2000)
In the same great run of films including Saving Private Ryan, The Green Mile, Catch Me if You Can, and Road to Perdition sits Cast Away, showing an uncharacteristically crazed, isolated Tom Hanks. In many ways this is one of the definitive survival movies, where a Fedex executive crash-lands on a tropical island and has to brainstorm survival. The fish out of water antics amuse while the drama of the piece hits home, asking the terrifying question what if you were in his position. Could you survive? Hanks is fantastic in his oscar nominated role, lending enough natural charm and charisma to be the everyman Cast Away needs. It’s not as fun as the space-ballet Gravity, but it’s every bit as powerful an examination of man and his place in nature. Terrific.
Force Majeure (Ruben Östlund, 2014)
Okay it’s foreign and Swedish, but so what? Endure the subtitles, this black comedy drama is as hilarious as it is perceptive, the rare crackerjack film that can actually cause a couple to squabble on the ride home. In the same way Gone Girl satirized the warring viewpoints of men and women, Force Majeure dissects relationship gender roles when a huge avalanche hits a ski ranch and instead of protecting his family, the husband flees. What follows are a series of wildly uncomfortable but laugh out loud funny conversations between a sparring husband and wife, often at the mercy of their awkward dinner companions. It smartly plays off familiar scenarios we’ve other inflicted upon others or endured ourselves, where partners trade undercutting jabs through a thin smile. It’s simply much-watch cinema, as deep as it is smart and as smart as it is funny.
All is Lost (J.C. Chandor, 2013)
Speaking of Cast Away, the survival drama is relocated from a tropical island to a medium sized sailing boat, lost at sea. Leading the picture is Hollywood icon Robert Redford (All the President’s Men, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid), Chandor’s second feature is largely absent of dialogue, instead drawing us into the silent, perilous journey of a man trying to survive adrift at sea. On the surface it’s an effective and even nail-biting thriller, with carefully constructed sequences of honest to god suspense, like when a storm hits and he has to quickly think how to stop water from pooling in the cabin before the boat is done for. But it’s also a surprisingly emotional existential drama, meditating on man at his most primal and basic. There’s something poetic about separating man from society and pitting him against nature, making All is Lost the rare double-barreled film both visceral and heady.
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Filmed in the crisp country of New Zealand, Slow West cracks the whip on the classic Western. Closer to surrealist fable than Stagecoach or The Searchers (which, despite its status as a definitive Western, is, itself, an early example of revisionism), we follow fresh faced posh boy Jay Cavendish (Kodi Smit-McPhee), journeying through the late 1800s America in search of a lost love (Caren Pistorius). Already the wheels of symbolism churn; an idealistic youth searches for his idyllic life in the old American frontier. Moments after meeting him his vigor is admonished—Jay enters a forest haze, a fog made not from vapor, but from the floating ash of incinerated teepees. He and his horse emerge coated with the remains of the Native American civilization, a harrowing image to introduce us to first time writer-director John Maclean’s stark and strangely uncanny vision of the wild west.
Silas (Michael Fassbender), one of the last remaining bounty hunters and lacks any of the slick-faced cool that made Clint Eastwood a superstar, murders a military officer. Killing Native Americans, he says, stripped the military man of his rank. This is only the first of many times Silas reveals himself to be a good man trying to bag a bad one, and as a bounty hunter on the prowl for Jay’s lady love Rose Ross, he agrees to accompany Jay for $50 now and $50 later. Silas’ old gang leader named Payne (Ben Mendelsohn) wears a comically gigantic fur coat, and he wants in on the action. Maclean is wildly ambitious, delivering a succinct 80 minute heavily symbolic visual odyssey that’s only occasionally interrupted by offbeat dialogue scenes. Performances are honed in and real, not so much subdued as much as controlled and exact. The cast knows the tenor that’s expected of them in a work this tonally zealous, even the young Kodi Smit-McPhee, who holds his own with the best of them. As a character piece, Fassbender, McPhee, and Mendelsohn thrive in bringing their respective characters to life, especially during suspenseful shootouts that often are dominated in irony that’s both thematic and laugh-out-loud funny.
Not all of the disparate elements—pleasant and revelatory as they sometimes are—manage to fall in harmony. While revisionist, it’s less bold than 2007s Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and fails to reinvent the West into the reimagined myth it desperately wants to be. Don’t get me wrong, director John Maclean’s confidence in his talent simply prohibits Slow West from seeming try-hard. He’s an artist steady in his aim, who knows where to put the camera, when to cut, and when to intersperse inappropriate moments of outburst comedy that tickle. Somewhere, the Coens are smiling. One of the most ambitious, heady westerns in years (not as though there’s ripe competition in that category, despite last year’s The Homesman), Maclean is contemplative of classic Western themes like redemption and rebirth while also musing on the tragic and systematic annihilation of the Native Americans.
Lengths of Slow West hypnotize, tantalizing with surreal vibrant hillscapes that are brazenly uncharacteristic of the Western. Absent is the sepia-toned picture-show style that was already traded for nostalgic currency in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, instead infusing edge to edge of the frame with deeply saturated greens, blues, and golds that really pop. Slow West isn’t in 3D, but some of Robbie Ryan’s immaculate cinematography feels like it stretches into and back out of the frame. That’s only one of the many dream-like elements that together conjure a transportive otherworldly tone unlike any Western I’ve ever seen. The pervasive surrealism is an unexpected facet.
In a scene that plays the reverse of what we’ve seen a hundred times before, Jay stumbles into the wrong campfire and a new threat immediately emerges, gun ready. But instead of beckoning for his life or retreating to look for the camp of his own—how it’s usually played—Jay calmly sits as if he was a member of their gang all along. It’s surreal, odd, but still subtle enough not to jolt you out of the movie, and watching Jay act as serene as a teenager on horse tranquilizer is just one of Slow West’s moments of dream logic.
Jay only leaves after listening story told in flashback that’s all about murder and legend and adds to the weirdness of the film (especially as the mouths of the actors in the flashback are voiced over by the old feller telling the story instead of their own). Roland Gallois’ and Jon Gregory’s editing style exemplifies the strangeness. We start with a shot of Jay’s weirdly chill reaction followed by a point-of-view shot of the camp—heightening the peculiar quality at work. Had Maclain made camp there and didn’t continue journeying out, Slow West would have been a memorable experiment in formalism, playing with the style of the Western in fun and even brave ways.
A dichotomy emerges between the absurdist elements and the prevailing lived-in grit of Jay’s wanderings. Like Robert Altman’s masterwork (and for my money his best movie) McCabe and Mrs. Miller, the West is slow (title!) and the West is bloody. A possible reason cowboy and pirate fantasies share similar popularity with children is their unpredictability—the Caribbean Ocean and the “Wild West” are empty spaces to be filled by a kid’s excited imagination. Here, the same expanse, the frontier, is rife with violent unknowns. Gone is the glory of John Wayne‘s golden tenure. Instead trees come alive, revealing camouflaged Native Americans who instantly fire deadly arrows at your head. In Slow West’s vision of those times, trust in your surroundings, your past, in other people, in your love ones, and even trust in yourself and your own feelings, are as uncertain as what next nasty truth lies around the corner.
B
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]]>Netflix Picks is a feature with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
Hot Fuzz (Edgar Wright, 2007) -
Look, either you’ve seen it and you already know Wright’s singular sense of comic genius, or you’re lucky enough to still experience it fresh. A cult comedy of the highest order, Fuzz is at once a sharp satire of the buddy cop action film and a totally kick-ass buddy cop action romp of its own, er, (w)right. It’s the followup to the lesser but great Shaun of the Dead (parodying zombie movies instead of movies like Bad Boys and Lethal Weapon), effectively launching the careers of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, boasting a blink and you’ll miss it appearance by Martin Freeman. I’ll be honest, this isn’t just one of my favorite comedies ever, but an endlessly rewatchable all timer of any genre. Hilarious and quotable, it’s a great.
This is Spinal Tap (Rob Reiner, 1984)
Famous for putting the final nail in the already-nailed coffin of glam rock, the famous mockumentary Spinal Tap lovingly remembers the era it so cleverly teases. Drummers keep dying, stage designs come out too small, and amplifiers literally have a notch to “turn it up to eleven”; the more you know about rock and roll and metal, the funnier this will be. It’s been absorbed so thoroughly into the public conscious by now Spinal Tap almost feels like a legitimate band, and not just because the fictional hair-metal group became slightly less fictitious by actually touring. By 2015 this is an honest to god classic, likely seen by many but always in need of being seen by more, it’s effortless and funny viewing Roger Ebert inducted into his “great movies” series in 2001 with a 4/4 stars. It’s essential, hilarious viewing.
Three Kings (David O. Russel, 1999)
If you’ve seen late-career hits like The Fighter, Silver Linings Playbook, or American Hustle, you may be curious of Russel’s early work. Three Kings is an early career high for the prolific and controversial filmmaker, a gulf war action-comedy turned treasure hunt-heist film headed by George Clooney, Mark Wahlberg, Ice Cube, that’s somehow an absolute blast despite a heavy political subtext. There’s a real bite to the action here, directed with all the gusto of a hot-headed over ambitious director with something to prove. And prove it he did. Three Kings is called by some a modern classic, a cohesive and studied picture that uses the fun stuff—action and comedy—to invite a smart and deserved emotional wallop as the film literally runs to the finish. Three soldiers find a treasure map that may or may not lead to loads of gold bullion.
The Babadook (Jennifer Kent, 2014) -
Other than maybe Life Itself it’s the only film on this list not bound to make you laugh. No, The Babadook is an instant horror classic, a deeply psychological thriller that twists the psychosis of a mother and her outbursting son into a suffocating, morbid, and downright terrifying horror spectacular bound to leave you devastated. This is decidedly not Anabelle. That is, an artificial chewed out slob of the genre, using weak jump scares without an ounce of smarts. No. The Babadook lets the slow churning atmosphere of dread slowly envelop the film, giving credible creepiness to the movie monster from which the film takes its name. It’s an emotionally boiling meditation on mental illness and parenting, one that digs its sinister claws deep. BBC critic Mark Kermode named it his best of 2014. It’s easy to see why.
The Emperor’s New Groove (Mark Dindal, 2000) -
One of Disney’s smaller and more forgotten animated features, New Groove is an unambiguously lesser entry in their catalogue—what can compete with Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and others? But what Dindal’s film lacks in iconic imagery and eternally memorable characters it makes up for through sheer grinning charm. David Spade gives a comfortably funny voice part, but it’s John Goodman’s poncho wearing Pacha and the evil witch’s side-kick Kronk you remember. It’s a small, lighthearted affair wrapped up in less than 90 minutes, making New Groove brisk, ridiculous fun. Add in inventive action sequences and a gorgeously animated Incan Empire and it’s hard to find a more delightful 78 minutes to spend on Netflix.
Life Itself (Steve James, 2014)-
There’s an unnerving psychological precedent to mourning celebrity deaths. We don’t know them personally. We aren’t their families, friends, or probable acquaintances. When friends seemed stricken by the passing of Michael Jackson or Brittany Murphy I feigned sympathy, but ultimately I didn’t understand. That is, until the god of modern film criticism, Roger Ebert, passed away at the too early age of 70 in April 2013. He was—and is—an enormous inspiration, to the point I couldn’t review Life Itself, the documentary chronicling his life and final days, with any hope of objectivity. It’s moving, poignant, and radiating in positivity. Steve James captured the spirit of Ebert, showing not just a man who celebrated going to the movies, but life itself. If documentaries aren’t your thing, this is a fine place to start.
The Big Lebowski (Joel Cohen and Ethan Cohen, 1998) -
A bowling stoner comedy cult classic to the point that there’s actual Lebowski Fest, many regard this as one of the finest comedies ever. If you disagree, well that’s just like your opinion, man. Arguably one of the single most iconic characters of all time, Jeff Bridges’ zen performance as The Dude is the stuff of movie legend. Deservingly so; he’s funny, perceptive, and a loving blend of loser hippie and enlightened buddha. Following the labyrinth adventures of the bathrobe wearing Dude, his always screaming short fuse best friend Walter (an enraged and freaking brilliant John Goodman), and Steve Buscemi’s clumsy “shut the fuck up Donny”, this is a sublime head trip where laughs come as effortlessly as John Turturro’s pink-purple tracksuit wearing Jesus Quintana can bowl a strike.
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]]>With Furious 7 officially kicking off blockbuster movie season (and already reaching a truly staggering billion dollars in no time at all) I thought it was time to look ahead to The Metaplex’s most anticipated movies of summer 2015. The selection, at first glance I’ll admit, isn’t great. It’s front heavy with three of summer’s most hyped releases coming out of the gate in May, but let’s see what we got…
25.) Man from U.N.C.L.E. (Guy Ritchie)
Starring: Henry Cavill, Armie Hammer, Elizabeth Debicki and Alicia Vikander
Release: August 14th
Even if you hated the try-hard trailer, remember Guy Ritchie’s track record. Okay, the sequel to Sherlock Holmes wasn’t great (the first wasn’t either but it was fun), but nevertheless, Ritchie’s strong hand style leaves little room for boredom. I miss the days of Snatch and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels like the rest of you, but a british spy story laced with a homoeroticism (just check out that poster) is a better fit than an ill-advised update on Holmes. He’s a talent who’s been in a bit of a rut, and this looks like the kind of levity Kingsman: The Secret Service tried to find in the spy genre. Man of Steel’s Henry Cavill and The Social Network’s Armie Hammer co-star, and both are in serious need of showing what they got (so to speak). Let’s hope this is it.
24.) Pitch Perfect 2 (Elizabeth Banks)
Starring: Anna Kendrick, Skylar Astin, Rebel Wilson, Brittany Snow, Ester Dean
Release: May 15th
This is a singular entry on this list for a couple reasons. One, it’s the only musical comedy. Two, it’s one of the only big-name films in 2015 to be directed by a woman. Elizabeth Banks is behind the camera this time around, directing The Barden Bellas, the a cappella group with the forever charming Anne Kendrick as the head, in a worldwide music competition. The first Pitch Perfect was a break-out niche delight, and trailers have given every reason to think the same success will be found here.
23.) Trainwreck (Judd Apatow)
Starring: Amy Schumer, Bill Hader, Brie Larson, and Tilda Swinton
Release: July 17th
After making an impressive name for herself on Comedy Central, Amy Schumer is an ideal choice for co-writing and starring in Judd Apatow’s latest, Trainwreck. The premise alone is worth a chuckle: raised to be allergic to monogamy and commitment, Amy (Schumer’s character) meets a handsome, smiling doctor (Hader) that leads to a re-examination of her life, life choices, and ultimately, herself. Opening to very positive reviews out of the South by Southwest Film Festival, many call this one of Apatow’s best. Sure to be one of the most talked about comedies of the summer, I’m just extra excited to see Short Term 12‘s Brie Larson in anything (who, frankly, needs a big break).
22.) Minions (Pierre Coffin, Kyle Balda)
Starring: Pierre Coffin, Sandra Bullock, Jon Hamm< Michael Keaton< Allison Janney, and Steve Coogan
Release: July 10th
Hot off the fan-pleasing success of Despicable Me and Despicable Me 2, we get out first spin-off and prequel set in a world of dominated by super-villains. Taking place in the 60s, Minions chronicles the origins of the adorable iconic waist-high yellow creatures with big eyes and goggles. They inadvertently killed their super-villain masters, those previously being Dinosaurs, Ghengis Khan, Napoleon and Dracula, and travel to a “villain convention” to find a new one. While spin-offs are usually met with a cautious eye I’m particularly at ease with this one, which has ripe territory to develop into a fun narrative and typically gorgeous animation.
21.) The Gift (Joel Edgerton)
Starring: Jason Bateman, Rebecca Hall, Joel Edgerton
Release: May 31st
A curious project from star turned writer/director Joel Edgerton (I was surprised he wrote and directed this too), this domestic thriller is about a couple who meet a creepy old friend. He leaves off-putting gifts, shows up at odd times, and his overall off-kilter intrusive demeanor sends them reeling. Edgerton, of course, cast himself in the showy part of the creepy old friend, with Bateman and Hall leading as the couple. Most stars want their directorial debut to be a big buzzy project with huge stars. That Edgerton chose a small-scale Hitchcockian thriller as his first is an excitedly unconventional choice, one I’m eager to see come May.
20.) Terminator Genisys (Alan Taylor)
Starring: Emilia Clarke, Jai Courtney, Arnold Schwarzenegger, J.K. Simmons, Matt Smith, Sandrine Holt, and Jason Clarke
Release: June 1st
Like Jurassic World and Mad Max: Fury Road, Terminator Genisys has to overcome cinema’s own Curse of the Billy Goat. That is to say, that sequels decades apart, especially with different casts, tend to crash and burn in spectacularly disappointing fashion (I try to forget about Terminator Salvation). This is more of a franchise reboot than sequel, though, adopting 2009s JJ Abrams directed Star Trek “in” of an alt-timeline with timey-wimey goodness. Game of Thrones’ Emilia Clarke is the lead, her first real big film role, and seeing how well she can translate from mother of dragons to kicking ass as Sarah Conner will be a real thrill. Add some eye-catching stunt work (like a bus flipping multiple times mid-air) and Arnold Schwarzenegger’s return to the series, and this ought to be an action romp with a nostalgic bite. I’m cautiously optimistic about this one.
19.) Jurassic World (Colin Trevorrow)
Starring: Chris Pratt, Bryce Dallas Howard, Judy Greer, and Vincert D’Donfrio
Release: June 12th
Not even the lovable Chris Pratt can convince me the latest Jurassic Park is going to be any good. The last two ranged from missable to bad and when has a third sequel ever succeeded? Still, writer and director Trevorrow’s heart is in the right place, seeking to modernize and update the Jurassic Park world with relevant themes and strong visual ideas—although I’m not sure how I feel about the rolling spheres instead of jeeps. The analog feel of the original is one of its strengths, and I worry if the new aesthetic might undermine the threat of the dinos. I know this sounds mostly negative, but World is due to be a good time at the movies, and on the off chance it really works, we may have a new classic on our hands.
18.) When Marnie Was There (Hiromasa Yonebayashi)
Starring: Hailee Steinfeld, John C. Reilly, Vanessa Williams and Geena Davis
Release: May 22nd (limited)
It was a sad day when the famed Studio Ghibli announced they were closing their creative doors, the Japanese animation studio behind Spirited Away, My Neighbor Totoro, Howl’s Moving Castle, Grave of the FIreflies, and so many other beloved classics. The studio is called by many the finest animation house in the world—an opinion I agree with—formerly headed by masterpiece maker Hayao Miyazaki (now retired), and When Marnie Was There is purportedly the final film to be released by the legendary film studio. Already a huge box office success overseas, this is a more solemn and meditative work than some of the more kid friendly fair, telling a story about a sick young girl befriending a blonde haired girl named Marnie. Quality of content time and time again promises their final film to be an anime delight.
17.) Inside Out (Peter Docte and Ronnie del Carmen)
Starring: Amy Poehler, Lewis Black, Mindy Kailing and Bill Hader
Release: June 19th
Watch out baby, Pixar’s back and looks as good as ever. A much needed return to form for the famous company that, as bad luck and empty winded sequels would have it, hasn’t released a standout original film since 2009’s Up. Toy Story 3 was great, but Pixar needs to breathe new life into cinemas, and after 50 minutes recently screened to sensational reactions net-wide, it appears they have. For their 15th feature the kid-friendly company turns high concept, with the premise of Inside Out taking place entirely in the mind of a young girl. The characters are each of her five emotions—anger, joy, disgust, fear, and sadness, and together they battle through daily life. It’s an inspired take on a coming of age story. Don’t disappoint, Pixar.
16.) Aloha (Cameron Crowe)
Starring: Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, Jay Baruchel, Bill Murray
Far from his origins in Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Say Anything, Crowe is making more adult and mediative works, albeit ones with a playful tone. Aloha is a star studded romantic comedy led by Bradley Cooper, an actor on one of the hottest streaks in the history of acting (he’s had oscar nominations the last three years in a row), falls for Emma Stone. There’s a political subtext to boot, with Cooper playing a defense contractor and Stone as an Air Force Pilot, talent behind and in front of the camera makes this perfect for date night.
15.) San Andreas (Brad Peyton)
Starring: Dwayne Johnson, Alexandra Daddario, Paul Giammati and Carla Gugino
Release: May 31st
Apparently looking to out-Emerich the movies of Roland Emerich himself, this disaster movie visualizes a cataclysmic earthquake that tears apart Los Angelos, California. Because the visual effects and action scenes need a flimsy excuse to hold together, a divorced ex-husband and ex-wife try and rescue their daughter. Look, I’ll be honest. I’ll see anything with Dwayne Johnson. He’s become a prized commodity for movie fans and probably fans of fun in general. Add to that the fact disaster movies have some of the best eye candy in the biz (and allow for lines like “the Earth will literally crack open” to be brought to life in expensive splendor), San Andreas seems like reliably low-brow popcorn fun.
14.) Pixels (Chris Columbus)
Starring: Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Josh Gad, Peter Dinklage, Michelle Monaghan
Release: June 24th
Okay, Adam Sandler is a bad sign. Kevin James probably is one too. It’s the goofy off-kilter premise that spells comedy success: in the 80s NASA sent a space capsule with Earth’s culture out into the cosmos. When aliens find it, they wrongly interpret video games as an act of war, therefore, of course, the logical solution is to invade Earth as the characters from the video games. In essence, this is a movie where Pac-Man invades Earth. Oscar glory isn’t what you look for in a Sandler-James flick, but I’m paying to see this movie, and with Home Alone and Harry Potter director Chris Columbus at the helm, it might actually turn out (half?) okay.
13.) Regression (Alejandro Amenábar)
Starring: Ethan Hawke, Emma Watson, David Thewlis
Release: August 28th
This uncharacteristically early-season thriller/horror precedes the typical fall slot, offering mid-year pulp for genre fans (for those looking to get your horror fix now, you can’t do better than It Follows) from director Alejandro Amenábar. His 2001 The Others is one of the best reviewed horror flicks from the past 15 years, and with a Shakesperian ensemble of performers in Hawke and Thewlis, matched by the first dark turn by Emma Watson, this is the rare movie of its type deserving of hype. The setup for the plot is simple: a father is accused of a crime he (claims) he has no memory of committing. I’m most excited to see Watson stretch her acting wings, but the film itself should impress.
12.) Ant-Man (Peyton Reed)
Starring: Paul Rudd, Evangeline Lilly, Corey Stoll and Michael Douglas
Release: July 17th
What some will forever think of as sloppy seconds from Cornetto Trilogy writer-director nerd superstar Edgar Wright, who dropped out of the project reportedly due to friction with Marvel’s intense creative control with the project, it might actually have gestated into a solid product. With a strong cast and trailer that was well received, fans have regained confidence in a film that seemed off the rails. Another worrying fact is dealing with yet another origin story for a superhero—not to mention a peculiar, off the wall one one named Ant-man that’s a guy who goes for a ride on The Magic Schoolbus and shrinks down. The irreverent tone might sell it though, and Paul Rudd has the comic chops not to play it straight.
11.) Me & Earl & The Dying Girl (Alfonso Gomez-Rejon)
Starring: Thomas Mann, Olivia Cooke, Jon Bernthal, Nick Offerman
Release: June 12th (limited)
A Sundance hit, this critically acclaimed coming of age story bears traces of The Fault in Our Stars with a high-school time period mixed with a heartbreaking cancer diagnosis. The festival circuit is build to find and market films like these for the masses, and with hype this fierce it seems asinine not to see a movie some are already calling a classic. Coming of age stories are perfectly suited for summer, and discovering new talent is as exciting for critics as it is for the audience.
10.) Irrational Man (Woody Allen)
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Emma Stone, and Parker Posey
Release: July 24th
Woody Allen’s run hot-cold since the 1980s, a trend he almost perfected in the 2000s. 2011s Midnight in Paris is a seminal work many hail as one of his best while breaking through to a younger audience for the first time in years, but flip the coin in 2012 and it’s tails: the followup To Rome with Love was a skunk of a stinker. Flip the coin again, and 2013s Blue Jasmine was acclaimed to the point it won Cate Blanchette a deserving oscar. Little is known of Irrational Man beyond the basics of the plot: a philosophy professor suffers, you guessed it, an existential crisis until he meets a student. Respectively played by Joaquin Phoenix and Emma Stone. The plot is business as usual for Allen but after last year’s dull Magic in the Moonlight he’s due for a winner, and the idea of a Phoenix collaboration is undeniably exciting.
9.) Slow West (John M. Maclean)
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Ben Mendelsohn, and Rory McCann
Release: May 15th (limited)
Already the glorified son of the 2015 Sundance film Festival, this Western has received acclaim from all corners: it has a coveted 100% on Rotten Tomatoes and with particular focus on the sure-handed direction by newcommer John Maclean, and as expected, sure-fire talent of Michael Fassbender. A slow-burn thriller with action on its mind, the narrative’s origins start innocent before turning ugly: a young boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee) journeys across the 1800s American Frontier with a cowboy (Fassbender) to find his lost love. Early buzz compares Slow West to Tarantino and The Coen Brothers, the kind of comparisons that make you enter a theater with high expectations.
8.) Far from the Madding Crowd (Thomas Vinterberg)
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts, Tom Strurridge, and Michael Sheen
Release: May 1st (limited)
A ye-olde romance in the dignified vein of Charlotte Brontë (who wrote Jane Eyre for those who forgot high-school English), this is an adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s novel of the same name. Set in Victorian England, Carey Mulligan plays Bathsheba, an independent woman, who contends over choosing three suitors: all of them are different. While this might not seem ideal for the adrenaline seeking action junkies raised on Bayhem, keep in mind Mulligan’s acting talent is matched only by her beauty, and, of more importance, is the director. With The Hunt, Thomas Vinterberg turned a drama about a boy wrongly accusing a teacher of pedophilia into a bare-knuckle brawl of dramatic intensity, spinning an already morally complex tale into a terrifying viewing experience. He’s a powerhouse director, and on those grounds alone—if no others—Far from the Madding Crowd is required viewing.
7.) Fantastic Four (Josh Trank)
Starring: Miles Tellar, Michael B Jordan, Kate Mara, Jamie Bell, and Toby Kebbel
Release: August 7th
I had little to no interest in this project until I saw the trailer. Another Fantastic Four movie? The project seemed to carry the foul odor of a franchise trying too hard, of The Amazing Spiderman, but the vision, tone, and style of the tease left me floored. Yes, it aped Interstellar’s arrangement and another shot looks like the prologue from The Dark Knight Rises, but the early look was more than anything, a promise ring that if we wait for the movie, and if we see it opening night, we will be rewarded in kind. The found-footage superhero movie Chronicle was a creative riff on anime classic Akira, and I see no evidence of creative slowing down. Plus, Whiplash told us Miles Tellar is a powerhouse performer and the rest of the cast are strong; so I have hope.
6.) Ex Machina (Alex Garland)
Starring: Domhall Gleeson, Oscar Isaac, and Alicia Vikander
Release: April 10th (limited) And it just went wide this weekend!
The sort of small scale sci-fi we could use more of, this already well-reviewed (it rests at an impressive 89% on Rotten Tomatoes) meditation on artificial intelligence is set to join the ranks as a definitive take on the subject in cinema. We follow a reclusive genius played by soon to be super-super famous Oscar Isaac (he’s the guy in the X-Wing in the Star Wars trailer, though you recognize him from Drive and Inside Llewyn Davis) who meets a young programmer played by another Star Wars star: Domhall Gleeson. Together they monitor, and possibly become compromised by, a gorgeous humanoid android that probably seduces at least one of them. Smart science fiction is rare, and this looks to be an unusually bright summer gem.
5.) Southpaw (Antoine Fuqua)
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Rachel McAdams, Rita Ora, Naomi Harris, Forest Whitaker, and 50 Cent
Release: July 25th
Far from “another boxing film” Southpaw follows Billy Hope (a very ripped Jake Gyllenhaal coming off hot after Prisoners, Enemy, and Nightcrawler) struggling to get custody of his child after his wife (Rachel McAdams) is murdered by a stalker. He’s deemed reckless and unfit for parenthood, loses his money, and his only choice is to box his way back into the green. After cult favorite and eternally quotable (and now meme-able)Training Day was under his belt, Fuqua’s directing career has been hit or miss. What he needs is a great creative force on the page to match the bite of his camera, and Sons of Anarchy showrunner Kurt Sutter may be a match made it heaven. Buzz is high on this one, and with Gyllenhaal added to the mix, expect a knock-out performance in a film with an emotional wallop.
4.) Tomorrowland (Brad Bird)
Starring: Brit Robertson, George Clooney, Hugh Laurie, and Judy Greer
Release: May 22nd
Brad Bird’s second live-action feature after Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol, this sci-fi yarn about a young girl that discovers a mystical retro-futurist city (with George Clooney playing the father, no less) looks to be the mystery box film of the summer. That is to say by design we know next to nothing about the plot, best left to be discovered on a mammoth cinema screen and a wall of sound. Admittedly recent trailers haven’t had the wow factor for me, but after The Iron Giant, The Incredibles, Ratatouille, and Ghost Protocol I trust Bird with an open heart to match my open wallet.
3.) Mission Impossible Rogue Nation (Christopher McQuarrie)
Starring: Tom Cruise, Jeremy Renner, Simon Pegg, Ving Rhames, Rebecca Ferguson, and Alec Baldwin
Release: July 31st
Not even HBO’s recent Scientology slamming documentary Going Clear can stop Tom Cruise from being the last genuine movie star on the planet. His screen presence cracks with enough electricity to power a major city and demands to do his own stuntwork, including having missiles shot at him in Edge of Tomorrow, driving a car at hyper speed in Jack Reacher, and hanging off the side of the tallest building in the world in Mission Impossible’s 2011 franchise best Ghost Protocol. The man is insane, not because he’s a Scientologist but because of his outrageous work ethic and determination to bring everything he has to each movie he does. The latest Impossible might not be able to top Brad Bird’s fabulous direction last time around, but it’s destined to be an action highlight of 2015. Cruise is the biggest reason why.
2.) The Avengers: Age of Ultron (Joss Whedon)
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Mark Ruffolo, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johanson, Jeremy Renner, James Spader, and Elizabeth Olsen
Release: May 1st
Marvel, once the punchline of every joke making fun of the current state of cinema, has legitimized itself with movies that refuse to suck. Quality varies between them but even the series lows (Iron Man 2, Thor) entertain. 2014 was a Hulk-smashing win with Captain America: The Winter Soldier and fan favorite Guardians of the Galaxy, delivering not just the two best Marvel movies, but two of the best movies last year period. Confidence in Marvel is at an all time high, and Whedon has upped the ante considerably from 2012s superhero team-up The Avengers, including an Iron Man vs Hulk sequence early screenings say is sublime. Add on genius out-of-left-field casting with James Spader in the lead. HYPE.
1.) Mad Max: Fury Road (George Miller),
Starring: Tom Hardy, Charlize Theron, and Nicolas Hault
Release: May 15th
Officially a reboot but more of a spiritual sequel, this is the successor to the hair raising groundbreaking car flipping Mad Max Trilogy. This time we have primal intimidator Tom Hardy in the lead as the often silent titular character, a perfect replacement to Mel Gibson. The series is famous for two things: campy absurdism in a post-apocalyptic old West (and, point of fact, Mad Max practically launched the now dominant sci-fi subgenre of post-apocalyptic storytelling) and wild car chases that set new standards of insane. Footage promises a crazy ride with chases, spiked steel, a disfigured Nicholas Hoult shouting “What a lovely day!”, all on a spectacular stage of wide-screen desert vistas that have made Fury Road’s trailers the best of 2015. If there’s a film to break the long-awaited sequel curse, it’s this.
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]]>In light of the Oscars on Sunday, it felt about time to post my top ten films of 2014. I’ll be adopting a new format this year and throughout this week and next. I’ll be posting the lists of the various editors of The Metaplex.
Every year, patterns emerge, but in 2014 there was one that was unusually specific. Film after film satirized the media, from a subtle jab in The Edge of Tomorrow to major elements of the plot in Gone Girl, Birdman, and Nightcrawler — three of the year’s most prolific films — to be wholly concerned with the news. In particular, how the news affects the public consciousness, and the delineations present between the newscaster, the public, propaganda, and truth. Additionally, in a pattern I can’t account for, David Fincher, Paul Thomas Anderson, and even Babel filmmaker Alejandro González Iñarritu, famous for being a sour-faced downer, all went the way of the comedy. Even The Grand Budapest Hotel seems to be Anderson’s funniest film. Nightcrawler, too, is a black comedy of a sort, and each screening of Gilroy’s debut had plenty of laughs. Two films, Boyhood and Interstellar, obsessed over time, and found different stylistic ways to represent it.
Before we get to the list, more random thoughts:
I must give a shoutout to the terrific work Gareth Edwards did on Godzilla, which is top 10 best-directed material, but it’s crippled by a dim-witted screenplay. His work on Star Wars is muchly anticipated. John Wick is wicked fun for fans of action fare, and I’ll smile when a sequel is officially announced. The Winter Soldier may become a favorite with time, as it’s become an easy go-to for something to “pop on.” It’s Three Days of the Condor-style fun with an easy excuse to gaze at Chris Evans and Scarlett Johansson. Brilliant. I’ll defend Aronofsky’s Noah to the end of my days. If you didn’t like the rock giants, I did, and this is my list. Brendan Gleeson getting overlooked for his work in Calvary is a crime, and I petition a tribunal to find those responsible. A second viewing of Inherent Vice might make it pop up a few places while more than likely making me crave pizza. I look forward to it. I don’t get the Under the Skin hype, and you can’t make me. And I've allowed myself one tie, as with previous years.
10.) The Edge of Tomorrow (Doug Liman) -
If Groundhog Day meets Aliens doesn’t sell you on this movie, nothing will. The Edge of Tomorrow is a movie’s movie, a blockbuster that’s damn proud of being a blockbuster and sets out early to justify that pride. It does. Tom Cruise is the only man on the planet that can lead movies like this one, and every second of Tomorrow proves he’s the last of the movie stars. Amongst the most viscerally powerful movies of last year, what easily could have been a convoluted CGI fest became an often exhilarating time travel actioner that — vitally — never lost its humanity. The action is riptide, but it’s the characters, played with movie-star charisma by Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt, are what make the movie. It didn’t find a home in theaters. Let’s hope the move to blu-ray gives it a warm, and lasting, welcome.
9.) The Tale of Princess Kaguya (Isao Takahata) -
Takahata may be lesser known to the West than his Studio Ghibli counterpart Hayao Miyazaki (one of my favorite filmmakers of all time), but he’s no less an artist. Kaguya is a beautiful anime, directed as though a Japanese watercolor painting came to life. In the same way Steven Spielberg shot Schindler’s List in black and white to create an historical tone, the minimalist visual style gives Kaguya an unusual mythic spirit that compliments the folk-story origins of the narrative. A bamboo cutter witnesses a dizzying display of color and light in the forest, and soon finds himself with an otherworldly baby girl who he slowly raises into royalty with his wife. The rare anime aimed squarely at adults, Takahata imbues Kaguya with overwhelming sorrow to match its otherworldly whimsy.
8.) A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (Ana Lily Amirpour) -
The most aggressively stylish film of the year, Amirpour’s directorial debut is nothing short of an Iranian black and white spaghetti western John Hughes vampire love story. Filmed in gorgeous compositions with Los Angeles made to look like an ominous Iranian frontier town called Bad City, virtue of originality takes Alone at Night far, but that its many genres and ideas compliment instead of contrast are what sells it as something special. Really, it’s a style-over-substance exercise in loneliness and love, told with utter stylishness where form and content become entirely the same. Expect a glowing review from The Metaplex to compliment its rerelease at the Gene Siskel Film Center later this month.
7.) Whiplash (Damien Chazelle) -
One of several debut features from their respective director, none impress more than Chazelle. This semi-autobiographical jazz school film about a student and an emotionally abusive teacher walks with more swagger than Marlon Brando and can be read as a love story with more sadomasochism than 50 Shades of Grey. His crackerjack style of crazy panning and quickfire editing makes it the best edited and tightest film of the year, with a finale that wholly justifies the warning of its title. Big screen brilliance.
6.) The Raid 2: Barendal (Gareth Evans) -
So the story is bloated and doesn’t inspire favorable comparison to the many films that the narrative homages (everything from Police Story to Infernal Affairs, which fans may recognize as the basis for Scorsese’s remake The Depahted), but when you’ve made one of the greatest action movies ever made you’re allowed indulgence. At least three of its elaborate, mind-blowing action sequences, most of which feature little to no CGI and instead rely on ultra-exact choreography, are “best ever” material, including a car chase that’s so electric it could shock a ghost back to life. Not many movies made my heart beat faster than this one, and I left the theater physically exhausted. The stunt team behind The Raid and The Raid 2 caught the eye of J.J. Abrams and reportedly helped with a major fight scene in Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Holy. Shit.
5.) Gone Girl (David Fincher) -
The breakout R-rated film of the year is based on Gillian Flynn’s best selling novel of the same name (she also wrote the screenplay, HUGE Oscar snub). Few take as much unapologetic joy in shocking audiences than Se7en and Fight Club director David Fincher. Following a conventional but brilliantly staged first half, Gone Girl goes the way of the absurd, becoming something of a David Lynch black comedy, smirking at its own subversive ridiculousness with a Joker-esque grin. It’s a mad, mad world in Gone Girl, which measures masculine and feminine with a provocative wink to get people talking, and with a worldwide box office of 368 million, clearly, they have.
3.) Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson) -
There’s a film trope based on dubious psychological validity that people who suffer from amnesia sometimes feel a sense of loss or yearning for people they don’t remember, that they retain the emotions from their old memories but without the memories themselves. That’s something like watching The Grand Budapest Hotel, which memorializes an altogether grander time, where manners, principles, and morals reigned above any and all other consideration. That time, as Hotel mournfully notes, may not have existed in the first place, but memorialize it must. There’s something really wonderful about this film beyond that it may be Wes’ best; perhaps that it basks in melancholy like a warm summer glow, or the delight it takes in itself. And, for once, Wes makes sure you’re in on his jokes.
3.) Nightcrawler (Dan Gilroy) -
Entering the pantheon of great “L.A. films,” we follow a gaunt sociopath as he shocks his way up the news story ladder. Nightcrawler is a harrowing, lurid look at the seedy underbelly of broadcast news. Jake Gyllenhaal lost loads of weight and mastered Gilroy’s brilliantly wordy, sardonic, satirical screenplay, and as a result gave the best performance of 2014. His character Lou Bloom is a nightcrawler, someone who scours the night for prey (the character was modeled after a coyote), to film the bloodiest footage he can of disasters, car wrecks, and shootings. Nightcrawler doesn’t indict the media so much as society as a corrupt whole, and Gilroy has an uncomfortable pulse on what makes people really tick: “If it bleeds, it leads.” Entertaining, surprisingly funny, taut, tense, and devilishly perceptive, it’s a minor masterpiece from 2014.
2.) Interstellar (Christopher Nolan) -
Yes, it’s an over-confident and sometimes sloppy imitation of a Kubrick-Malick marriage that doesn’t always work. And, yes, there are passages that can be a slog to sit through. But few films celebrate cinema the way Interstellar celebrates cinema, organs blaring, spaceships zooming, and IMAX projectors rolling. It’s the ultimate B-movie, a gorgeous synthesis of high art and pure pulp, taking control of sights and sounds that scream from the rooftops to be seen and heard on the biggest screen possible.
Nolan’s magnum opus is reckless and oh-so-flawed, but it also touches a greatness few films can think of, with more than one scene seared into eternal movie memory. The docking sequence is the sort of bravado genius that strikes as downright inspired, and, in turn, inspires you. But underneath the extraordinary fireworks is a heart and a mind, and when Nolan uses love to explain science, time, and other dimensions, and uses science, time, and other dimensions to explain love, Interstellar discovers something transcendent.
1.) Boyhood (Richard Linklater) -
For me, 2014 was a year of extraordinary change and transition. The touchstones of life, such as friends, careers, significant others, and family members, all found themselves in extreme and what sometimes felt like an unrelenting metamorphosis. So much so, I sometimes found myself breathless, struggling to keep up with it all. No film more than Richard Linklater’s Boyhood felt like a friend, not only comforting through persistence of presence — it is the rare film that lingers for months rather than days — but by capturing truths of life both obvious and abstract. Few films are as poorly reviewed as this one, since, like 2001: A Space Odyssey, vocalizing an experience this immense and this true, no matter how soulful, honest, or witty you can be, is a reductive exercise. Boyhood is cinema as magic, and by contemplating the expanse of life and time, we feel answers that we cannot explain.
Expect a "runner ups and underdogs" list next week!
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Amelie (Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2001) -
Off beat, whimsical, and lovely, Amélie is a feel-good movie unlike any other. Following a shy faced Parisian waitress who was raised in relative seclusion, she spends her days with the earnest imperative to change the lives of the people around her for the better. Few films are as warm, kind, or life-affirming, yet it never shies away from the melancholy life can sometimes bring. Visually sumptuous and lead by the beautiful Audrey Tautou, it’s essential holiday viewing and deservingly critically acclaimed.
Paths of Glory (Stanley Kubrick, 1957) -
A rare film that’s at once one of the best war pictures ever made and one of the best courtroom dramas ever made, Kubrick’s first famous film is a heartbreaking indictment of war. Paths of Glory is a masterpiece divided down its middle, and its mix of genres not only separates it from other movies, but each half is a bitter reflection of the other. Also unique is it shows Kubrick at his most tender and features a humanist ending that Steven Spielberg famously showed to guests soon after Kubrick’s passing. A crushing, beautiful movie.
Snowpiercer (Bong Joon-Ho, 2014) -
Sure, many of you have already seen it; you know it’s great. But too many of you haven’t yet, so this entry is for you. Captain America and Avengers star Chris Evans leads this high-concept South Korean sci-fi actioner about a winterscape future where the only remaining civilization is on an elite train that runs on a track around the world. The rich are at the front; the poor in the back. Cue REVOLUTION. It’s one of the best films of 2014, combining amazing, gut-punch action with great performances and visual design. A must watch, and not just for Tilda Swinton's wonderfully off-kilter performance.
Serpico (Sidney Lumet, 1973) -
I recently rewatched Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights, and the Serpico poster decorating the wall of Dirk Diggler's bedroom leaped out at me. Often left in the shadow of Lumet’s other ‘70s classic, Dog Day Afternoon, this gritty New York crime drama, lead with the expected bravado of an Al Picano in his prime, set the gritty standard for undercover cop dramas. It’s gripping and hardnosed, and holds up spectacularly today.
Kramer vs. Kramer (Robert Benton, 1979) -
Amongst the first, if not the first, major American films to tackle the weighty topic of divorce, this best picture winner is the rare tearjerker that doesn’t feel sappy. In a role swap, we follow a work-obsessed father, played empathetically by Dustin Hoffman, trying to win a custody battle against his wife who one day took off for 15 months. He’s the hero. Hoffman and Meryl Streep as the wife both won well-deserved Oscars for their respective roles, and Kramer vs. Kramer still packs a relevant wallop today.
Nymphomaniac Part II (Lars Von Trier, 2014) -
Nymphomanic Part I is a comparatively lighthearted affair, full of effective comedy usually driven by Stellan Skarsgård’s excellent performance. Part II is dour, emotional, but all the more powerful because of it. As a refresher, Von Trier’s latest is an epic reflection of sex, using the topic of eroticism as a springboard for all things philosophical, societal, and personal across the middle-aged life of a self-described nymphomaniac woman named Joe. Charlotte Gainsbourg leads this half following the older years of Joe’s life, and if you need an extra incentive, even Shia LaBeouf turns in a good performance.
Ida (Pawel Pawlikowski, 2014 ) -
Okay, so it’s a black-and-white foreign language film with little dialogue and most shots have a static camera. I understand. It is resolutely not the accessible moneymaker Paramount or Warner Brothers might crave, a fact Pawlikowski jokes about in interviews. But Ida is sensational moviemaking by every standard, and this story about a beautiful soon-to-be-nun and the dark past she seeks to uncover grabs you from the first beautifully composed frame to the last. I normally crop the images, but Ida's amazing visuals deserve the full 1.33 frame. It’s also 80 minutes. You have no excuse. Watch it. It’s one of 2014’s best.
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]]>Star Trek: Into Darkness (JJ Abrams, 2013) - I had every intention of including a film as a hype builder for Christopher Nolan’s massively anticipated Interstellar (If the semi-mixed reaction has had any affect on me, it’s added excitement: the same should be true for you), but Netflix’s library is annoyingly lax with famous sci-fi titles. I’m coming up short, but JJ’s exciting second Trek is as close as we get. It may not be relevant to Interstellar, but it’s an early preview reel for what JJ has up his sleeve for the massively anticipated Star Wars Episode VII. The set pieces are enormous in both scale and vision, but most of all they are diverse and keep the film going at breakneck speed. Some have issues with the film’s logic, but, for the first time ever, I say “who cares?” Into Darkness is a blast from start to finish, and it grounds the human element in grand space vistas that, in my opinion, casts a spell of optimism come December 2015.
Trainspotting (Danny Boyle, 1996)- Boyle’s stunning low budget debut still holds up today, telling a story of addiction and loyalty that won’t ever lose relevance. Ewan Mcgregor gives a star making turn, and whoever saw him in this and thought “That’s the guy I want in Star Wars” should be commended for their audacity. This is a film of crime and urban poverty without ever taking its own subject too seriously despite the grit of the image and the starkness of its actual content. It’s a moving and sometimes funny film about heroin addicts trying to make it, and it’s as unforgettable today as it was in 1996.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Philip Kaufman, 1978)- Donald Sutherland had a hell of a run with horror, starring in not one but two horror classics only a few years apart. The first is the criminally under-seen but monumental Don’t Look Now (1973), the second being the eerie remake, Invasion of the Body Snatchers. It’s the sort of cerebral horror so often lacking today, with the plot and characters acting as philosophical counterpoints. Supporting roles by Leonard Nimoy and Jeff Goldblum extremely enjoyable. Body Snatchers is decidedly one of the only science fiction (and horror) films to offer a compelling argument for the villain, that villain being spores who learned to copy human beings. The fantastic Sutherland grounds a difficult role with humanity, making us instantly empathize with him. How he reacts is likely how many of us would. It’s haunting and iconic, with more than enough scares for a Halloween movie night.
Beginners (Mike Mills, 2010)- In between the horror movies and Halloween candy, watch Beginners. It’s a neo Woody Allen rom-com that wears its heart—and its proclivity for cleverness—on its sleeve. Possibly quirky to a fault but never less than endearing and fun, we follow Oliver Fields (Ewan McGregor) as he meets a gorgeous actress (played with delight by Mélanie Laurent) while his father (Christopher Plumber) comes out very late in life as a gay man. It’s amusing and relevant, and one of the finer films of its make of the last few years.
Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968)- I’ll be honest, I don’t enjoy this film. Not only that, controversially, I enjoy its famous sequel only marginally more. These films do nothing for me, but that doesn’t mean they won’t for you. In actuality, I can quickly identify what makes them work: the zombie thriller exploits the hunter-hunted evolutionary kick horror movies often use. Images of the dead are innately unsettling, let alone the walking dead, or undead, and there’s no better place to start than the start. This is the original that truly kicked off the genre, and even if I don’t, millions find it terrifying. Watch it.
The Blair Witch Project (Eduardo Sánchez, Daniel Myrick, 1999) - Revolutionizing horror movies by being the trendsetter of the found footage film, the original my still be the best of this idiosyncratic sub-genre. The question of if the first person point of the view adds or subtracts realism is a valid one, but here it proves to be a hauntingly visceral experience. The film follows three student filmmakers who set out to document a famous ghoul, the blair witch, and as the opening card ominously forebodes, they were never heard of again. Even in 2014 it’s bone chillingly scary, although we’re desensitized to the style that made it change the genre.
Catching Fire (Francis Lawrence, 2013)- Improving upon its predecessor in almost every way, a bigger budget gave Lawrence the technical freedom to make a beautiful, scary, but believable world that resonates as the killer action crackles. The explosion of The Hunger Games’ popularity continues to expand, and with two films to go in the massively successful franchise left (BO), don’t expect it to for a few years. Including Catching Fire in this edition of Netflix Picks is more of a Let’s revisit the great second Hunger Games before Mockingjay than an ordinary recommendation, but it needn’t be included if the film wasn’t as thrilling or complete. With a fully realized vision led by what’s for my money Jennifer Lawrence’s second best performance, it’s a great sci-fi by any standard.
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]]>10.) Godzilla (Gareth Edwards) - It feels greedy to call a blockbuster as unique and visually disciplined as Godzilla a disappointment, but it was. It had a flimsy script Edwards was handed by the studio, which led to poor characterizations and a strangely aimless plot. Truthfully, I don’t complain the film waits so long to show Godzilla, and not just because it was worth the wait. Every second of Godzilla is gleeful genre fun, and it doesn’t take itself half as seriously as some have accused. The star of the film isn’t the underused Aaron Taylor-Johnson or marginalized Elizabeth Olsen (although Bryan Cranston has a lot of fun in what one critic called “an amusing series of wigs”), nor is it Godzilla himself. It's Edwards himself. For one thing, the set pieces are all spectacular. Edwards has an eye for exhilarating and artful images, and it’s no wonder why he was one of the chosen few directors for a Star Wars spin-off. Yet again, a studio script undermines a supreme talent, and hopefully Disney won’t make the same mistake.
9.) Locke (Steven Knight) - A triumph of experimental filmmaking, Locke gives you a film set (almost) entirely in the front seat of a car. As much as I want to say it’s a one-man show for Tom Hardy’s extraordinary talents -- and watching him is nothing short of riveting -- equal credit for Locke’s rising tension and emotional complexity is due to writer and director Steven Knight. He made Locke take on the likeness of theater, cinema, as well as that of an art installation, making both the film and the experience watching it wholly unique. That’s a hot commodity in a year dominated by sequels and reboots, and it’s a powerful statement that a film so small could feel so big.
8.) Guardians of the Galaxy (James Gunn) - It’s the most fun I’ve had in a movie theater in years, and the more times I see it, the more I like it. Don’t be surprised if it’s higher on my top 10 of the year list come January. It’s a film that’s apparently impervious to diminishing returns, suggesting it might become a classic in no time at all. Guardians is all about the characters, and the lovable and instantly relatable cast of oddball characters — that includes the walking tree and the talking raccoon — have more heart than every other Marvel film combined. Every second of the film is designed to give you a good time, from the jamming soundtrack of ‘70s pop songs to the constant flow of laugh-out-loud humor. It’s hard to see anyone leave the theater without a smile on their face.
7.) Nymphomaniac Parts I and II (Lars Von Trier) - This is a tricky one, and it’s not because of the lurid content or hyperbolized themes or even the schizophrenic style. It’s that the film feels innately disconnected from itself due to the butchering of the film for its international release. Lars Von Trier’s ultra-graphic director’s cut comes out in a few months time, and my expectations to see a Nymphomaniac that feels cohesive are high. As is, Nymphomaniac Parts I and II are electrifying high-brow cinema that’s dramatically biting and thematically ambitious, using sex and sensuality as a springboard for the entire human experience. It doesn’t hit all the notes Von Trier wants it to, but it hits enough.
6.) Captain America: The Winter Soldier (Joe and Anthony Russo) - No other top 10 list of any previous year has included a Marvel Studios film. 2014 has two, and, so far, the Winter Soldier is Marvel’s crowning achievement. Captain America is often painted as one of the more vanilla superheroes, but here he’s anything but. His characterization is used against him, forcing him to question the moral and political intentions of his own government. It’s a film using the trappings of the 1970s paranoia thriller, echoing classic thrillers like Marathon Man or Three Days of the Condor. The plot is dense and twists abound. Adapting this classic comic storyline couldn’t have come at a more relevant time, and the deep(ish) themes have real resonance for the audience. The Russos also know action, giving the Winter Soldier’s action scenes a visceral intensity that feels closer to Michael Mann than to Joss Whedon. It also has the best villain in a Marvel film to date with enormous screen presence that instantly conveys danger. It’s not just a great superhero movie but a great film by any standard.
5.) Noah (Darren Aronofsky) - It very well may be that 2014 will close with Noah as the most controversial film of the year. It’s a controversial film to different people for different reasons, with some turned off by the brazen aesthetic choices that Aronofsky made, while others are insulted by his reshaping of one of the most famous stories in the history of the human race. It’s easy to understand those points of view, and one wonders how the studio ever gave it financing. But me? I was blown away. Aronofsky shows what it means to be a believer, and he does it with a powerful and unique voice that was always going to challenge. Noah works on multiple levels, but especially as big screen experience and as spiritual odyssey.
4.) Edge of Tomorrow (Doug Liman) - The blockbuster of the summer. It’s one of the only films at the multiplex to literally steal my breath away. Relentless in its pacing and fronted by a Tom Cruise determined to show you why he used to be the world’s leading action star, this is a blockbuster that really works. It’s an unusually smart sci-fi thriller, but also one that’ll surprise you by how much you laugh. Part D-Day alien invasion and part travel romp, Tomorrow effortlessly commands tropes even the best genre movies struggle with; namely, time travel. Normally a mess in most films, Tomorrow saw time travel as an opportunity to constantly reinvent itself and pull itself in new directions. The level of craft and showmanship is spectacular; this is what the summer tentpole should look like.
3.) The Raid 2 (Gareth Evans) - This is one of the greatest action films ever made. Following the action orgy of 2011’s The Raid: Redemption, Evans returned this year with a wildly more ambitious product that has instantly become a classic to action aficionados around the world. It’s more likely to excite the film nerd than the casual viewer, since the more you know about movies and how they are made, the more you know half of what Evans did seems impossible. The action scenes have mind-blowing martial arts choreography and feature multiple long takes tracking — and never hiding — the action, letting the athleticism and authority of the action speak for itself. It does. It has no less than three of the greatest action scenes ever put on film, making it by definition one of the best.
2.) The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson) - At a press junket, Anderson joked this is the first of his films that could be described as having a plot. Amusingly, he’s right. There’s a mysterious murder, a stolen painting, and before long it becomes a deadly cat-and-mouse road movie. This hardly sounds like Anderson, but it takes minutes to find that couldn’t be more untrue. This is Anderson at his most delightful, with a cameo-a-minute film that’s by far his most accessible. He’s mastered his craft, turning high art into off-beat fun, but never at the expense of Budapest’s poignant theme. Anderson’s latest is a swan song for a time of dignified principle and manner, even if such an era never may have existed at all. The film’s sadness isn’t bound in familial drama but from society, making it his most poignant but nevertheless most wonderful, film yet.
1.) Boyhood (Richard Linklater) - Filmed a few days a year over 12 years, this is without a doubt one of the most ambitious undertakings in the history of moviemaking. Perhaps no other film has been harder for me to review than this one, and there’s a reason. Watching the film can be called post-verbal, where poetry has become life and life has become poetry. Every moment has meaning, though it’s not always obvious what that meaning is. It is a transcendental experience unmatched by almost any other in movies and destined to be a classic in the same vein as 2001: A Space Odyssey. It has my highest possible recommendation.
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]]>School of Rock (Richard Linklater, 2003): Writer and director Richard Linklater has made a career out of phasing between content with a strong authorial stamp–the Before movies and his recent film Boyhood—and technically tight studio pictures with high entertainment value. School of Rock sits proudly in the latter category, where every line, shot, and music cue aims to entertain. Jack Black has never been a more enthralling lead, helping make it one of the most likable movies ever. The music numbers are jammin’, the comedy works, and the more you know about rock and roll, the funnier the film really is.
The Grey (Joe Carnahan, 2013): What seemed at first like another Liam Neeson B movie emerged as a surprisingly powerful meditation on death that waxes philosophy as it kicks your ass. The tension is high, the stakes intensify by the second, and the wolves, death, are coming for you. It’s a small film that leaves a big impact, and for those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s a film likely to please everyone.
Nymphomaniac part I (Lars Von Trier, 2014): Lars Von Trier’s latest is a violent and hyper erotic study of sexuality through a woman named Joe. She begins her novelistic account describing her sexuality by declaring “I discovered my cunt as a two year old.” Superbly acted and beautifully shot, Von Trier uses sensual awakening as a gateway to all kinds of human experience, and the result is a challenging and provocative work that has become the most incendiary film of the year. It’s also, oddly, unexpectedly funny and constantly entertaining, and along with the second half, will likely appear on my top 10 at year’s end.
Mad Max (George Miller, 1979): The original post-apocalyptic film, this hyper stylized sadistic action romp might not be what you’re expecting when you hear it’s the film that A.) launched Mel Gibson’s ultra-successful career, and B.) is one of the most profitable films of all time. It’s disorienting, gruesome, mean-spirited, but also unapologetically campy. It’s sensory overload turned to eleven, a film that pummels any sense of beauty or morality into the ground. Gibson dominates the screen, and even at this early stage his potential is obvious. The sequel is a better film, but the original has a purity the second film doesn’t. Given the fourth Mad Max film (this one starring Tom Hardy instead of Mel Gibson) comes out next year, there’s never been a better time to explore the franchise.
Zodiac (David Fincher, 2007): In lieu of David Fincher’s much anticipated Gone Girl (which opens the New York Film Festival in only a few weeks), turning back to what many call his best film is appropriate. This isn’t only a film just about the serial killer, but also about living in the information. Characters are drowned in facts and details, and it overwhelms them. Zodiac’s cross-genre appeal is a major reason it’s been so lauded: character study, period piece, psychological thriller, police procedural. Segments have the pulpy allure of Se7en while others carry teeth-pulling tension, but the longer the film goes, the more we are engulfed in its deceitful visage of truth. Life doesn’t have easy explanation, and neither does Zodiac.
12 Angry Men (Sidney Lumet, 1957): Commonly called one of the finest films ever made, it’s fame couldn’t be more justly earned. As I said in my top 10 films from the 1950s list, “After a trial in which the accused is almost certainly guilty, the jurors gather in a boiling hot room to reach a consensus for their verdict. They each submit a piece of paper, and they read, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, not guilty. The dissenting juror? None other than Henry Fonda in one of his best roles where he at once plays lawyer, philosopher, and all around good guy.” It’s one of the best paced films ever made, where, despite taking place in a single room, tension continues to mount until the dramatic conclusion. If there ever was essential viewing, this is it.
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon (Ang Lee, 2000): Considered the first major contemporary martial arts film to have wide appeal in the U.S., it eventually went on to win the best foreign film award at the Oscars in 2001. For once, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences got it right. Crouching Tiger is an utterly transcendent exercise of gravity-defying acrobatics, where the mysticism of a forgotten world still holds sway. Jaw-dropping action scenes are as poetic as they are thrilling, especially a sword stand-off flying through the tree tops. Amazing.
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]]>Lost in Translation (Sofia Coppola, 2003) - Bill Murray’s career plateaued in the ‘80s and early ‘90s, but he experienced a stunning career revival in Wes Anderson’s breakout film, Rushmore (1997). Ever since, Murray’s had serious indie cred, especially since working with Anderson on almost all of his movies, but his best performance by far in his entire career is in the indie dramedy Lost in Translation. He plays a character overcome with neutered emotion. He’s alienated from his foreign environment in Japan, from his family back home, but, worst of all, from himself. While there, he meets a young and beautiful recent graduate named Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson), who shares his soul, and, over the course of the film, they develop one of the greatest onscreen relationships of modern cinema. This is the film that captures what it means to be lonely, and even supplies how to synthesize an antipode.
Marathon Man (John Schlesinger, 1976) - After seeing Captain America: The Winter Soldier (my review here), check out the movie its genre and opening scene borrows from. Marathon Man is one of the definitive paranoia suspense thrillers from the 1970s, an era stricken with distrust of authority and where heroes favored smarts over brawn. The film centers on Thomas Levy (played with winning charisma by Dustin Hoffman at the top of his game), a history Ph.D. candidate out to prove his father was falsely accused of corroborating with the Russians during the second Red Scare (i.e. the McCarthy era). When his spy brother unexpectedly shows up on his doorstep, he soon becomes entangled in a murderous plot of international intrigue. Naturally, nothing is what it seems. It also features one of the most famous torture scenes in cinema history, and justly so, even if it doesn’t have quite the nerve-pinching tenacity it did in ‘76.
Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991) - At every possible opportunity, I try to bring awareness to NBC’s criminally under-seen horror/drama Hannibal. Mads Mikkelsen plays the title character, and he does it so well many, including me, think he might indeed surpass the legendary Sir Anthony Hopkins in the role. Nevertheless, even if revisiting Silence of the Lambs doesn’t lead to checking out Hannibal, few films are more rewatchable. Maybe it’s the innate vulnerability in Jodie Foster’s performance as Clarice —which, by the way, is every bit as timeless as Hopkins as Hannibal— that draws us in, since it’s so easy to project ourselves into her light-footed shoes. Many forget the film’s most famous and influential scene has nothing to do with everyone’s most cherished cannibal. In the action finale of the film, Clarice steps with nearly paralyzed precision through a basement engulfed in total darkness as she’s stalked with night vision goggles. Lambs might not be as scary as it was in the early 90s, but it’s every bit as intense.
Gattaca (Andrew Niccol, 1997) - Often cited as one of the better and smartest science fiction movies ever made, or at least the best you’re likely to see screened in school, Gattaca is about eugenics. The film takes place in a future that, almost ten years after its release, we see is faster approaching than ever. The core premise is this: the wealthy can afford to manipulate the genes of their children, making them perfect in every way. Those who aren’t wealthy cannot. Ethan Hawke plays Vincent, a conventionally born son to a wealthy family. He has a diatribe of symptoms destined to undermine his lofty ambition of being a space pilot. What does he do? He fakes it. He conjures up a detailed and incredibly clever plan to convince everyone he meets he was born through genetic manipulation, and his story becomes a springboard for powerful ideas that, hopefully, promote engaging post-viewing discussion. Gattaca is the rare science fiction film that puts the science in science fiction, and it becomes more relevant every single day.
Charade (Stanley Donen, 1963) - In many ways, Charade is a sequel in spirit to Hitchcock’s North by Northwest, where mistaken identities become as common as Cary Grant’s delightful quips. Audrey Hepburn plays Reggie, a woman who discovers upon returning home all her possessions have seemingly vanished. She learns her husband has been murdered, all in the pursuit of some secretive goods he ostensibly carried. The men that murdered her husband are now out to get her, convinced she has the prize. To the rescue is Peter Joshua, played by a Cary Grant who’s never had more fun to watch. He sets out to “get to the bottom of this.” The plot is splendidly breezy, and the film famously dips between the genres of romantic comedy, suspense/thriller, and full on slapstick without skipping a beat. The rapport between Grand and Hepburn is legendary, and when they share the screen (all the time) sparks jump off the screen. Charade is simply one of the most charming films ever made.
The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984) - When a truck driver with a history as an artist began working with Roger Corman, a famous artisan of all things B-movie, he learned how to light fast, shoot fast, and produce stellar special effects on a near non-existent budget. A few years later, he used those same tools to craft one of the most ambitious debut films of all time, The Terminator (It’s his second film if the historical purist in you insists Piranha II: The Spawning was his debut). Though sometimes brushed aside as mindless though incredibly visceral action, when you take a look at the Terminator, you realize its astounding ambition. It has a sprawling narrative with four story arcs overlapping one another simultaneously. It’s as though nobody told Cameron to take it easy and play it safe on his first real film. The Terminator outclasses most action films then or today in most categories. It’s a subversive feminist text, an ingenious display of low-budget special effects, a rousing action film, and a multi-layered plot all in one. Seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger in his first iconic part is a thrill, too.
For a Few Dollars More (Sergio Leone, 1965) - Finishing up Sergio Leone’s classics (the three others were featured in previous editions of Netflix Picks) is the second film of the Dollars Trilogy. This is the first of Leone’s spaghetti westerns to feature an original plot, and, no offense to his adaptation of Yojimbo (A Fistful of Dollars), but it structures the story with the dangerous gusto of the western in a way the frame of Yojimbo never could. The plot follows two outlaws, Clint Eastwood’s man with no name, here called Manco, and Colonel Douglas Mortimer, called Man in Black. The film follows their partnerships and betrayals —both plural — and when they share the screen, it sizzles with style. The inflated violence is back, here on a marvelous scale, and it’s the most easily enjoyed of all Leone’s movies.
Reviews RSSNetflix Picks RSS]]>10.) The Cranes are Flying (Mikhail Kalatozov, 1957) - Russia has a prestigious heritage when it comes to cinema, namely Sergei Eisentstein’s game changing use of (intellectual) montage. For him, great art was the brainchild of carefully constructed opposition. About thirty years later, Kalatozov arrived on the scene with the same bug for innovation. His films were a dazzling display of defiance in both form and content, jolting audiences with hyper-speed camera movements, editing that expanded on Eisenstein’s work, and an affection for expressionism borrowod from Germany. The Cranes are Flying won the Palme d’Or at Cannes in 1958, and it’s just as spellbinding today.
9.) Sunset Boulevard (Billy Wilder, 1950) - After making what is oft-seen as the definitive film noir Double Indemnity, Wilder set out to subvert the genre (here come the haters: “is noir really a genre?”, they ask) he helped define. Following a hack screenwriter as he becomes the exploited muse of an aging actress that’s also a shut-in, it bears little resemblance to The Big Sleep or The Naked City. But Wilder’s up to something, and as the film continues, he turns Hollywood itself into the ultimate noir puzzle box, one he leaves for the audience to decode. It works, making it one of the greatest films about Hollywood ever made, if not the best.
8.) The 400 Blows (François Truffaut, (1959) - The 400 Blows is considered the magnificent start of the French New Wave, a movement that put a powerful semicolon between classic cinema and new cinema. New meaning new wave. New meaning new Hollywood. I say semicolon, since the French New Wave doesn’t put a period on what came before. It’s an expansion, a dialogue, a new way of seeing what is or isn’t possible in moviemaking. Truffaut began breaking the rules by making a stylishly simple debut– the plot is unfettered by over plotting, and all that remains is the persevering beat of a heart. His influence can be most directly felt today through Wes Anderson, who has more homages to Truffaut (and Godard) in his films than I have Blu-rays. And I have a lot. The 400 Blows is a semi-autobiographical account of Truffaut’s childhood as a delinquent-to-be, and few films have shown better what it means to be a child misunderstood.
7.) Wild Strawberries (Ingmar Bergman, 1957) - If The Odyssey and A Christmas Carol got drunk together, went all the way, and had a child that was forced to question its existence after such an absurd display, it would look something like Wild Strawberries. The film is half a wandering journey that’s purposefully full of symbolically important tangents and half a surreal plunge into dream and memory. It has some of the most famous dream sequences of all time. The plot, if it has one, follows an aging retiree on his last minute decision to drive to an awards ceremony, his awards ceremony, instead of flying. In Bergman style, Wild Strawberries has a lot on its mind, and once you realize the line between reality and unreality may not be so clear after all, the film becomes flush with existential possibility. It’s a masterpiece.
6.) Witness for the Prosecution (Billy Wilder, 1957) - Based on a twisting short story by Agatha Christie, the plot centers on a man suspected of murder and a sick lawyer who mustn’t over exert himself with the dramatics of a murder trial but takes the case anyway. Tyrone Power gives one of the all time most entertaining performances as the joyously grumpy judge. He craves cigars so badly he conceals them in his cane, hoping to thwart the advances of doctors and nurses to keep him healthy. The trial is a fascinating case and turns a single set into a stage of relentless excitement. This is the best courtroom drama ever made.
5.) 12 Angry Men (Sidney Lumet, 1957) - Except, of course, if 12 Angry Men counts as a courtroom drama. After a trial in which the accused is almost certainly guilty, the jurors gather in a boiling hot room to reach a consensus for their verdict. They each submit a piece of paper, and they read, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty, not guilty. The dissenting juror? None other than Henry Fonda in one of his best roles where he at once plays lawyer, philosopher, and all around good guy. He looks at the case from all angles and asks the other 11 jurors to do the same. A film of profound depth and technical mastery, Lumet transforms a cramped and isolated space into a picture of tremendous achievement and cinematic power.
4.) Ikiru (Akira Kurosawa, 1952) - This isn’t an adaptation, but it was made in the spirit of Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy or even Bergman. Ikiru finds Kurosawa at his most existential and anguished, telling a present day story about an aged low-level bureaucrat who, upon being diagnosed with cancer, sets out on a dejecting quest for meaning. Deeply affecting and philosophically powerful, Ikiru, which is translated as To Live, is Kurosawa’s sermon on life and death delivered through two hours of stunning cinema. It’s undoubtedly one of his best and annoyingly unseen by some film fans.
3.) Paths of Glory (Stanley Kubrick, 1957) - Steven Spielberg once said this might be Kubrick’s most personal film. So much so, in fact, that at a dinner soon after his death, Spielberg showed his guests the ending to Paths of Glory- his guests fell to tears. Kubrick’s often called a cold filmmaker, emotionally alienating despite his brilliance. Whoever made the accusation clearly hasn’t seen Paths of Glory, which is so consumed with humanism it could almost be called sentimental. Taking place during World War I, the film is half in-the-trenches war picture and half courtroom drama, but the heart of the piece is in its startling depiction of war’s consequences that are personal, systemic, and global. It’s the film Kubrick found his voice, and it’s his first masterpiece.
2.) Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) - It’s Hitchcock’s best, not only because of its experimental model, but because it personifies the confounding nature of cinema. Rear Window bases its premise and its ultimate thesis on one central assertion: You like to watch. Paraphrased from IMDB, the story follows a wheelchair-bound photographer, played by Jimmy Stewart, a voyeur. He spies on his neighbors from his apartment window and becomes convinced one of them has committed murder. Rear Window is a treatise on why we watch movies by using voyeurism to unlock the symbols and psychology behind cinema, but it’s also a synthesis of all he mastered as a director.
1.) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954) - The plot is simple: A small village enlists seven samurai as protection from bandits, but the film is anything but. It’s deeply concerned with social class and patriarchal psychology, and it doesn’t take long before the brilliantly framed compositions become symbolic of civilization itself. I put it well on my top 10 favorite films list, saying: “Arguably as influential as the popular number one pick for the best film of all time, Citizen Kane, Akira Kurosawa singlehandedly wrote the rulebook on action/adventure film in this acclaimed classic. The rhythm, pacing, and sustained excitement over the three and a half hour running time is nothing short of extraordinary, making it one of the rare films you can dare to call perfect without rolling eyes.”
The next 10:
11.) Throne of Blood (Akira Kurosawa, 1957)
12.) Rashomon (Akira Kurosawa, 1950)
13.) North by Northwest (Alfred Hitchcock, 1959)
14.) Tokyo Story (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
15.) Strangers on a Train (Alfred Hitchcock, 1951)
16.) Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
17.) The Searchers (John Ford, 1956)
18.) The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)
19.) Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1957)
20.) Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958)
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Blue is the Warmest Color (2013)- After winning the Golden Lion at the Cannes Film Festival, the best possible award from the world's most important film fest, and also breaking protocol by giving best leading actress to both of its stars, Blue went on to become a controversial headline grabber for its graphic sexuality. That's a shame, because its story of two women falling in love is one of the great movie romances. The film's centerpiece is a ten minute long uber-graphic lesbian sex scene many argue went on too long, but that's not the point. The French drama perfectly captures the modern romance with a sensitivity that is both sweet and tragic. It's a beautiful, stunning piece, and was tied as my number one film of lats year. I can't recommend it enough.
Spiderman (2002) - There was a collective groan when Sony announced they were immediately rebooting the Spidey franchise after Sam Raimi’s go, and despite sensational box office performance, most found The Amazing Spiderman unsatisfying and cheesy. Whether you agree or not, it’s tough to deny the campy superhero goodness that is the original Spiderman. Ever since it came out on my birthday as a kid, it’s held a special place in my heart, all the more so by nailing the tone and feel of a superhero flick. It’s funny to remember it was one of the first, since in thirty years this will be remembered as the era of the superhero. Tobey might not be the best leading man, but Willem Dafoe makes for a predictably killer villain, and it’s great to go back and see what helped start it all. And, let’s face it, it’s probably still going to stand tall after The Amazing Spiderman 2.
Room 237 (2013) - Stanley Kubrick’s incredible and obsessive eye to detail has been a treasure of fans of movies for decades, but since the advent of the internet, fans have uncovered more and more insane aspects of his movies. The best example might be with his iconic horror film The Shining, which to this day remains my favorite horror film, where the entire floor plan of the hotel is an impossible design. Room 237 is a documentary that unspools some of the craziest and most entertaining theories behind Kubrick’s masterpiece. Plenty of them might be easy to dismiss, but as the doc continues, you realize there’s too much there for it all to be a coincidence. Some of them have to be real. It’s a trip, and enjoyable for just about everyone.
Sunset Boulevard (1950) - Billy Wilder is responsible for a number of the best movies of all time, from noir masterpieces like Double Indemnity to raunchy (but smart) sex comedies like The Apartment. With Sunset Boulevard, Wilder made one of the best movies about movies of all time. The journey of discovering Boulevard is haunting and malicious, with the plot summary of “Aging silent-film star Norma Desmond ensnares a young screenwriter in this poison-pen valentine to Hollywood.” It’s a ghoulish film on the nature of art, identity, and moral compromise, and it’s one of the greats.
In the Loop (2009) - The Doctor Who Tumblr crowd might have already discovered In the Loop, the film version and spin off of the wildly successful, and hilarious, BBC comedy series The Thick of It. It’s a political satire of British (and sometimes American) government, and though the comedy as a whole is a constant pleasure, it’s Peter Capaldi’s constantly cussing “fixer” Malcolm Tucker that’s the real draw. If Capaldi’s name sounds familiar, it’s because he’s replaced Matt Smith as Doctor Who, and his new season premieres later this year. Tucker gives a nuanced and highly layered performance despite his propensity for large, offensive, demeaning outbursts. In The Loop functions not just as wonderful comedy, but it’s also a smartly drawn political satire worthy of anyone with any interest in politics.
Mud (2013) - A lot of us first tasted the McConaissance with this mid-year entry where he plays a mysterious outlaw right out of Mark Twain. In fact, the whole film is, often being called a post-modern take on Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer, and it’s easy to see why. It’s a coming of age story about two 14 year old boys set on the Mississippi River, where river living is the only way to be. The performances are all fantastic, especially Tye Sheridan as the main character. It’s a small but sweet film, made with the same sensitivity that turned Take Shelter (also from writer/director Jeff Nichols) from yet another doomsday film into an intense and powerful experience. It was just outside my top 10 movies of 2013, and McConaughey is sensational.
The Long Goodbye (1973) - This is one of the most obscure movies I’ve ever featured on my Netflix Picks, but it’s worth it. This is the lesser known, but no less brilliantly executed, equivalent to Chinatown, where the tropes of 30s noir are upended and analyzed. That’s a genre that’s a personal favorite of mine, called neo-noir. A private detective named Philip Marlowe, played by the always magnetic Elliot Gould, becomes embroiled in a high-stakes plot involving, as is often the case, stolen mob money. Off-beat, funny, violent, and stylistically bold, it’s one of the best detective movies ever made.
]]>ParaNorman (2012) - People are so busy pontificating that we’re experiencing the golden age of television that many failed to notice we’re also in the golden age of the animated film. ParaNorman won’t be remembered in five years as one of the key films from the animated film format, and that’s a shame. ParaNorman is successfully funny, charming, and, at times, suitably spooky. The visuals are creative and finely brought to life in 3D stop motion, and the mise en scene is always striking. But what makes ParaNorman a great work is how it communicates complex adult themes with an elegant simplicity, not only unusual for the animated film, but unusual for films in general. The bottom line: a really great family film with intelligently drawn themes under the surface. I highly recommend it!
The Act of Killing (2013) - Like most film bloggers and critics, The Act of Killing made my top ten films of 2013, and deservingly so. This is the film that redefines the documentary from merely a download of information and onto the altar of art. When trying to describe Joshua Oppenheimer’s masterful work, one quickly runs out of superlatives. Revolutionary. Horrifying. Beautiful. Nightmarish. Surreal. The film follows a group of murderers from decades past, many of them with as many as a thousand deaths to their name. Here’s the kicker: they’re celebrated cultural icons, and, to them, it’s something e bragging about. They recreate their killings in their favorite movie genres, leading to several short films within the film. This is one of the scariest and most bizarre films of 2013, and I can’t recommend it enough.
A Fistful of Dollars (1964)- Last edition of Netlfix Picks I featured Once Upon a Time in the West. Now, I include the first of the Dollars Trilogy films, A Fistful of Dollars. It’s easy to take for granted what masterful director Sergio Leone did with this first film, but audiences around the world had never seen anything like it. A loose remake of the Akira Kurosawa classic Yojimbo, an outlaw walks into a town with two rival gangs fighting over control it. What follows is a satirical and subversive take on the American western. Leone’s tools include irreverent morally compromised heroes, over the top violence, and occasional parody. Leone hasn’t yet perfected his formula, but you feel his brilliance in every frame. Clint Eastwood’s first turn as ‘the Man with No Name’ is already undeniably classic, and his screen presence is like few other performances in cinema history. Hugely enjoyable, I love this film.
The King's Speech (2010) - While we’re in the throes of Oscar season, why not return to a best picture winner of a few years past? The King’s Speech defeated the (much better film) The Social Network and went on to become a blockbuster in its own right. Like Black Swan from the year before, it’s one of the few contemporary art house films to accumulate a massive global box office, making 400 million worldwide. Some have written The King’s Speech off as Oscar bait, but it’s a brutally unfair prognosis. The King’s Speech is delightful, and, despite the distracting and pretentious Dutch framing, is a singularly accessible period drama. Colin Firth grounds the film, and he’s an emotional powerhouse. It’s funny, too
The Boondock Saints (1999)- There’s two main camps on how to treat The Boondock Saints. One is that it’s immature trite, an adolescent pipe dream brought to the screen with every bit of the crude stupidity one might expect from low-brow fare. The other is that it’s a highly enjoyable actioner executed with vibrant gusto and tact. In a word: kickass. I’m somewhere in the middle, but regardless where you fall on the spectrum, it’s a must watch to see where you end up. The film follows two Irish hit men taking names and smashing skulls. It’s necessary viewing if only for its cultural impact, but since most seem to love it, you probably will too.
Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001) - Writer and director Alfonso Cuaron is about to win the Academy Award for direction for his latest opus Gravity, and that’s after he already won the Golden Globe, BAFTA, and Director’s Guild Award for his space thriller. Hopefully the hype around Gravity will cause mainstream audiences to revisit his first films, and the most important is Y Tu Mama Tambien. The narrative is deceptively simple, a coming of age story of two brothers traveling with a woman in her 20s. Pioneering long takes with longtime cinematographer Chivo (Children of Men, The Tree of Life) and engaging with the same political context in his later film Children of Men, Y Tu Mama Tambien sees Cuaron as an artist discovering his own voice. And, even in these early days, it is potent and loud.
Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan (1982) - Start by watching the classic Star Trek episode “Space Seed”, then dive into one of the greatest science fiction films ever made. No, scratch that. One of the best films of all time. The Wrath of Khan ranks with Hunt for the Red October as one of the greatest submarine war films of all time, but instead of a hulking Russian submarine, you have behemoth space cruisers duking it out between the stars. Khan has profound cultural significance, and audiences who haven’t seen it will recognize many iconic moments frequently quoted in pop culture. Khan sees Star Trek at its greatest peak, combining relevant political allegory with visceral thrills and genuine emotion. William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy give career best performances as their famous characters of Kirk and Spock, and it’s nothing less than required viewing. Plus, you’ll finally understand all those Seinfeld references.
Donate Reviews RSSNetflix Picks RSSTop Ten Lists RSS ]]>Headhunters (2012) - Slick, fast, and oh-so-stylish, this is the European equivalent to a mindless auctioneer. Headhunter Roger Brown lives a flamboyant high-class lifestyle, hunting down individuals and finding high-paying corporate positions for them. Hidden from his gorgeous wife and well-to-do colleagues is an ever-increasing debt. He can barely make the next payment on his lavish home. So, to help pay it off? He steals. Roger’s a professional art thief, but when he encounters the nefarious Clas Greve, the target of his next heist, the title of the film takes on a lethal double meaning. Clas is played by the fantastic Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, recognizable everywhere as Jaime Lannister from Game of Thrones. Abundantly exciting and full of memorable moments, this is one of the best actioners on Netflix.
Bernie (2011) - Writer/Director Richard Linklater has had a curious career. He’s one of the few directors, along with Steven Soderbergh, to smoothly slip between commercial and art house fare without skipping a beat. Mainstream fans know his work by the fan-favorite School of Rock, whereas critics adore him for his critically acclaimed Before trilogy. Bernie sees him combining all his talents into an off-beat black comedy that nearly defies explanation. The plot summary hardly makes sense, and even though the ‘plot’ doesn’t begin until some ways into the film, you’ll be incredibly entertained. Here’s what you need to know: you’ll laugh, but feel bad about it. You’ll walk away with powerful questions on what it is to be a good person, and find no easy answers. Jack Black stars, and it’s the best performance of his career. It’s a small and odd film, but one that matches the ease of enjoyment with substance. It’s great!
Raging Bull (1980) - Quentin Tarantino tells a great story where Brian De Palma, after completing what he believed to be his masterpiece, Scarface, sat down in a cineplex to see a new movie. The new movie began with one of the all time great opening shots: a stunning black and white image of a single boxer, condemned to solitude and isolation in the boxing ring, bouncing up and down with hood up, hands in the air, up, all in dramatic slow motion. De Palma cries out in shame and artistic frustration: “there’s always Scorsese. No matter what you do and how good you think you are, there’s always Scorsese staring back at you.” That movie was Raging Bull.
Into the Wild (2007) - Remember in high school or college when you had to study Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau? Those giants of literature championed American Transcendentalism, the philosophical movement that believed man’s structures were implicitly corrupt and broken, that tells us we have to cultivate the innate goodness found in each human being, and, usually, that meant a deeper connection to nature and one another. If that sounds “far out” that’s because it sorta was, but more than a hundred years after Thoreau and Emerson had died, a young college graduate felt revitalized and awakened by their ideas and begun living outside of society. His name was Christopher McCandless. He planned to return home but first traveled through parts of South Dakota and California and eventually made his way to Alaska, all to explore different ways of life. What truths his journey uncovered are left to interpretation, but his undeniably fascinating adventure was written about in a 1996 non-fiction book called Into the Wild, which Sean Penn adapted into a film. I can promise you’ll walk away with something you didn’t have before, and that means something.
The Hunt (2012/2013) - Don’t let its status as a foreign drama fool you, The Hunt is terrifying. Mads Mikkelsen, best known in America as the poker-playing villain Le Chiffre in Casino Royale or as Hannibal Lector in NBC’s amazing series Hannibal (he’s tremendous and may eclipse Anthony Hopkins as the iconic character), plays an affable teacher at a children’s nursery. Soon after the film‘s start, he is wrongly accused of sexually molesting a young girl and quickly becomes the victim of mass hysteria in his small town community. See, to scare an audience, all you really need is basic human nature. This is a horror film where we, the common people, the average joes, are the villains. Scene after scene, tension builds and builds to nearly unbearable ends to the point it becomes a paralyzing viewing experience. Mikkelsen won best actor at Cannes for The Hunt, and there’s a solid chance this’ll win an Oscar in a month’s time. It couldn't be more deserved.
Love (2011) - Years in the making, this isn’t a great film, or maybe even a good one. What it is, though, is a jaw-dropping display of indie filmmaking, where a single artist (and a team to make the CGI) made a sci-fi epic for the shockingly low cost of $500,000. Most of the film takes place in a space station that director William Eubank built himself in his parents’ backyard. The whole film is incredibly impressive in the same vein and demonstrates what an inspired individual can achieve when driven to succeed. While the script plays fast and loose with logic and ultimately is one huge homage to 2001, the visuals and music both soar. It’s short and well worth watching, especially if you’re a fan of indie science fiction. Well, or if you’re a fan of Blink 182 and Angels and Airwaves frontman Tom Delonge, who produced the film. Check it out!
Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)- Most people know The Man with No Name Trilogy, otherwise known as The Dollars Trilogy. Even more people, maybe even everybody, know The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, which is the final crescendo in a trilogy of high notes. Some -- Well, more than some -- call it the best film trilogy of all time, but lesser known to the mainstream is the next big western writer/director Sergio Leone made: Once Upon a Time in the West. Operatic and grand, this is classic extraordinary style elevating already great material to astounding cinematic power. Morally nihilistic and brutally violent, this is a movie about the New West and the relics of the old that still wage war on one another with explosives and revolvers. It’s a masterpiece, and very possibly a better movie than The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. It’s an absolute must see for any fan of film, any fan of westerns, and just about anyone else too.
Netflix Picks is a feature published the first and third* Wednesday of the month with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
* The regular schedule will resume by February.
Side Effects (2012) - Director Steven Soderbergh is one of the most important and influential men who have worked in film for the last 20 years. From getting started with Sex, Lies, and Videotape all the way up to Erin Brockovich, Out of Sight, Ocean’s 11, and the critically acclaimed Traffic, he boasts an impressive filmography we’ll miss being added to. Yep, he’s retiring, and Side Effects was his final motion picture (technically this isn’t true, Behind the Candelabra was, but that’s a TV movie in the U.S.). He’s one of the rare filmmakers that proved a great director can move between Hollywood blockbusters and art house dramas with ease. That alone makes Side Effects essential viewing, but it’s also a darn good film. Side Effects is a morality play on our current societal fixation on drugs told through the lens of an efficient psychological thriller, helped immensely by rising actress Rooney Mara. Timely, relevant, and well crafted, it’s very enjoyable.
Face/Off (1997) - Modern audiences have all but forgotten Hong Kong director John Woo’s particularly branch of stylistic action mayhem, but Face/Off is a nice start to getting reacquainted. This dates back to when Nicolas Cage was a certified A-list action star, and he goes toe-to-toe with a John Travolta, who has never had a better time. The obvious joke is both stars literally face-off in the film, exchanging punches as much as they trade their actual faces. It’s a ludicrous premise for a ludicrous film, but the two stars are having such a good time, it’s impossible not to join them. For those expecting a hard-edged nail biter, look elsewhere. This is campy and outrageous fun.
Double Indemnity (1944) - This one’s got to be a no brainer, right? Long held as the definitive noir movie of cinema history, this is one of the single most must-see films ever put to celluloid. No hyperbole: it’s excellent. It’s got all the tropes: The hard-boiled private detective embroiled in web of intrigue, murder, and, most dangerous of all, women, the downtrodden, pissed off voiceover, the iconic typewriter punching away the rooted demons of mankind. Billy Wilder’s noir masterpiece is one for the ages. It’s what comes to mind when somebody says “Classic Hollywood.” Barbara Stanwyck plays one of the definitive femme fatales, and few women have ever been as alluring. It’s one of the sexiest and most viscous pictures ever made.
Flight (2012) - After staying in animated hell with Polar Express, Beowolf, and A Christmas Carol, the loved director of Forrest Gump and Back to the Future has finally returned to live action. Robert Zemeckis’ Flight was largely ignored at the end of the year awards, which is a shame, since Denzel Washington gives one of his best performances to date as a struggling alcoholic. It’s a compelling, and, more unnervingly, accurate character study that doubles as a survey of addiction. Hollywood filmmaking is rarely this deep, and when met with the gripping spectacle of a plane crash, maybe the best ever in film, you get a singularly compelling motion picture.
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) - Most viewers know British cult director Guy Ritchie from the Sherlock Holmes films starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law, but few know how he got his start. It was a string of heavily stylized irreverent and uproarious small-time gangster flicks, all of them a wicked good time. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels is the first and many wager the best of his gangster films, having met significant critical acclaim around the world. Also worth noting is that a fairly young Jason Statham roams the sidelines years before he exploded with a career of B action movies. The plot is deceivingly simple at first: a card game goes wrong and all channels of the London Underground clamor to make good. It’s the smartest type of stupid fun, and I dare you to not have a hysterical time watching.
Enter the Void (2009) - Make no mistake, this isn’t a great film. A full half an hour could be shaved off and nobody would miss a thing. The plot isn’t thick and the characters aren’t deep, but despite these serious issues, it’s never less than jaw dropping. Singing to the pulse of a rockin’ synth-beat soundtrack and burning your retinas with a constant stream of neon colors, it’s a dazzling sensory experience frankly unlike any other. Most of Enter the Void is told from the first person point of view of a ghost, giving the camera wings to fly around the colorful cityscapes of Tokyo. The camera zooms through the streets, buildings, and walls: nowhere is private. We’re given an arousing journey of psychology, spiritualism, and sex (so much sex, and Boardwalk Empire’s Paz de la Huerta has never been more alluring). There’s no film like it and likely never will be. Psychedelic and tantalizing, the two and a half hour running time is worth it.
In Bruges (2008) - I have to admit this is very much a selfish inclusion on my part. In Bruges is one of my favorite comedies in the last ten years. It’s also a critic and audience favorite, so I think that justifies forgiveness on your part. Martin McDonagh’s excellent black comedy is the rare film that uses comedy to enhance the drama while the drama enhances the comedy in equal turn. It’s a perfectly balanced script, and the precise, delicate direction enhances the effect. It has some indisputably hilarious moments often framed by genuine loss and mourning. Big questions not only aren’t shied away from, they’re embraced, and as the film ends viewers will have much to contemplate. The philosophical bent underscores the whole film without ever robbing it of its constant hilarity, and, man, is it funny. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson (the Harry Potter fans will recognize him as the actor behind Alastor Moody) give their two best and most layered performances, and when Ralph Fiennes is on screen with them, expect to hold your sides. I love this film and most others do too. See it.
]]>14.) How to Catch a Monster (Ryan Gosling, TBA)- Although he took a retirement from acting to reevaluate his choices as an actor, Ryan Gosling’s kept busy. How to Catch a Monster is his directorial debut that he also wrote. The script leaked online to significant buzz, with many saying it echoes art house heroes Nicolas Winding Refn (who directed him in Drive and Only God Forgives) and David Lynch. Drive co-star Christina Hendricks stars as a mother who gets involved with the wrong people while her son discovers a portal to a city underwater. It’s a bizarre, ambitious premise for any filmmaker, let alone a first timer, but Gosling has had such an artistically accomplished career How to Catch a Monster incites significant curiosity. I’m pumped to see if he is as fine a filmmaker as he is an actor.
13.) Noah- (Darren Aronofsky, March 8th)- I’ll admit it, atheist art house filmmaker Darren Aronofsky wouldn’t have been my first, second, or third choice for a big budget Hollywood adaptation of the Biblical story of Noah’s Ark. I’m still not convinced, but I am curious. Extremely curious. It will no doubt prove too controversial for at least certain sets of audiences, so buckle your seatbelts and expect a shitstorm of editorials discussing the spiritual implications of the film. There’s one point everyone agrees: the cast. Russell Crowe leads as the title character, Jennifer Connelly plays his wife, and Emma Watson stars as their daughter. I’m more looking forward to his take on the story rather than the film as a piece of cinema, but it’ll undoubtedly be fascinating viewing.
12.) Transcendence (Wally Pfister, April 18th)- Quite a fuss was made in 2012 about how Christopher Nolan’s long-time cinematographer, Wally Pfister, was retiring from the craft he won an Oscar for. He wanted to satisfy a long-gestating ambition of his: to direct films himself. He toyed with scripts for years, reportedly taking a gander at Captain Philips and others, until he chose black-list script Transcendence. It’s a high concept sci-fi thriller, a story about an A.I. researcher whose brain is uploaded into a computer and huge consequences begin to take hold. In a huge get for the first time director (working with Nolan for so long must have serious pull), Johnny Depp stars in the lead in what seems like his first ‘normal’ role in a decade. The footage admittedly knocked this down quite a few spots on my top ten, but it looks to be an intellectually engaging thrill ride for early summer.
11.) Exodus (Ridley Scott, December 12)- Scott’s been depressingly hit or miss throughout his career, bouncing between resounding cultural capstones like Alien or Gladiator with bitter disappointments like Robin Hood or 2013’s The Counselor. I’m an apologist of Prometheus, which for all its backlash and hate still managed to continue to earn 400 million for an R-rated blockbuster, and, if nothing else, demonstrates he’s still got the stuff for an epic. Exodus sees him adapting one of the most epic stories ever written: the tale of Moses and his leadership of the Jews leaving Egypt. If he can pull it off, and many aren’t sure he can, this has the potential to be one of the aging director’s finest cinematic accomplishments. Like Noah, Exodus is sure to offend, but, also like Noah, at least the cast impresses. Christian Bale, who exited 2013 with two of his best in Out of the Furnace and American Hustle, plays Moses himself, and he’s going to wow.
10.) Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer, April 4th) - Under the Skin made quite a splash last year on the festival circuit, inciting polarizing reactions. Reviews say it’s Scarlett Johansson’s best performance to date and is the most challenging role of her career. She plays a sort of supernatural femme fatale or siren, luring in men from the highway road who are never heard of again. It’s a sinister and surreal slow-burn thriller with a philosophical bent and is due to make waves come this April.
9.) Godzilla (Gareth Edwards, May 16th) - After Pacific Rim, I questioned the relevance of a kaiju movie in today’s marketplace. Del Toro’s robo vs. monster flick became a blockbuster favorite amongst critics and international audiences (mine as well), and it may have filled the spot Godzilla hoped to get. Then I saw the trailer. It wasn’t just one of the best trailers of 2013, but it proved the indie-auteur feel of Monsters, his excellent 2010 film that he made almost entirely himself, could be maintained after a hundreds of millions of dollars budget upgrade. Artistically potent and visually arresting, the trailer stole my breath away. This May, I hope that experience is repeated.
8.) Jupiter Ascending (Andy and Lana Wachowski, July 18th) - I was one of the seemingly few who passionately championed Cloud Atlas, the highly ambitious adaptation of the dense, confounding, but brilliant book by David Mitchell. Cloud Atlas wasn’t critically panned, but close, and, cripplingly, only made 27 million at the domestic B.O. that should’ve terrified movie studios from financing their next picture. Jupiter’s so high on my list not because of the footage, or even the story (which is vague but seems to follow an underclass janitor, played by Mila Kunis, being whisked away into intergalactic adventure), but because The Wachowskis must’ve had one helluva pitch. They convinced studios not only to finance their next project after the domestic failure of Cloud Atlas but to award them 200 million dollars for it. The last time Hollywood took a big chance on the duo, they made The Matrix. Let’s hope they can do it again.
7.) X-Men: Days of Future Past (Bryan Singer, May 23rd) - X-Men: First Class was a critical and financial success, and gave the iconic roles of Professor X and Magneto to James McAvoy and the ever-rising star Michael Fassbender. The two knocked it out of the park, enough that Bryan Singer returned to the franchise, adapting the fan favorite time-bending storyline Days of Future Past, uniting the original cast with the new. It’s supposedly the most expensive film Fox has ever made, tied to or second to Avatar, and a cast this stacked can’t fail. For my money, it’s going to be the blockbuster of the summer. Plus, beloved Game of Thrones star Peter Dinklage plays a key villain.
6.) Nymphomaniac Parts I and II (Lars Von Trier, March 21 and April 18) - Controversial Danish filmmaking Lars Von Trier’s latest is an insane journey of sex, religion, and self-discovery. A sex addict, named Joe, is found beaten in an alley and recounts the shocking and poetically powerful journey of her life as a self-described nymphomaniac. Frequent collaborator Charlotte Gainsbourg stars, along with huge stars Stellan Skarsgård, Shia LaBeouf, Christian Slater, Jamie bell, Uma Thurman, and Willem Dafoe, and there was much talk around whether the cast would or wouldn’t be doing their sex scenes for real. They aren’t, and instead are having porn actor body doubles do the dirty on screen, leading to a ‘hardcore” and “softcore” version of the film being released. The version released in March is a mostly softcore four hour cut of the original five hour long film, which will have to do for now. It’s already met critical acclaim overseas and is sure to stateside as well.
5.) Inherent Vice- (Paul Thomas Anderson, TBA) - One of the greatest filmmakers today, Paul Thomas Anderson, is adapting the critically lauded tripped out Thomas Pynchon novel Inherent Vice. Already, I’m in. PTA’s reusing some of the most powerful creative collaborators he’s ever had, such as RADIOHEAD’s Jonny Greenwood as composer, cinematographer Robert Elswit as DP, and Joaquin Phoenix as the star. Phoenix’s towering performance in The Master instantly propelled him to cinephile superstardom, and if they can reclaim half the magic found in their previous collaborations, this is going to be a treasure. It’s great to see PTA branch out, too.
4.) Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson, March 7th) - Coming off what might be if not the best film of his career certainly the most endearing and confident, Wes Anderson returns with what looks to be another gem of another one of the greatest living filmmakers. He’s one of the world’s finest living auteurs and actors seem to know it too. Grand Budapest has the craziest and biggest cast this year. Hell, just look at it: Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, F. Murray Abraham, Mathie Amalric, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law, Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Saoirse Ronan, Léa Seydoux, Jason Schwartzman, Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson, and Bob Balaban. Wow. Anyway, it looks absolutely delightful.
3.) Gone Girl (David Fincher, October 3rd) - One of, if not the, greatest director of his generation, David Fincher has finally chosen his follow-up to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. He couldn’t secure financing for 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (which would’ve been far preferable, if only so we have an answer to “what would that look like?”), and instead became a trumped up director for hire to adapt the bestselling book Gone Girl. That’s fine, since Gone Girl is a go for broke cultural phenomena people say perfectly suits Fincher’s many artistic talents. There’s some skepticism around Ben Affleck and the beautiful Rosamund Pike’s casting, but surely some assurances come with book author Gillian Flynn also writing the screenplay. IMDB’s plot synopsis merely reads “A woman mysteriously disappears on the day of her wedding anniversary.”Let’s leave it at that. I hear it’s a real stormer.
2.) The Hobbit: There and Back Again (Peter Jackson, December 17th) - I’ll admit it, this entry is unapologetic fanboyism. Still, An Unexpected Journey was over-criticized, Smaug was one of the audience and critic favorite blockbusters of 2013, and There and Back Again promises some of the biggest, and most epic, battles ever put to the screen. There are huge emotional payoffs to come, and, if Peter Jackson stays consistent, it will easily be the best film of the Hobbit trilogy.
1.) Interstellar (Christopher Nolan, November 7th) - Could it ever have been anything else? Christopher Nolan shattered Hollywood preconceptions on what a blockbuster can, or ought, to be, and along the way blown the mind of audiences around the world with his labyrinth and thematically rich storytelling. And with Interstellar, he pushes the envelope even further. It was originally a Spielberg project using real-world theoretical ideas by famous astrophysicist Kip Thorne, but Nolan took the original script (written by his brother) and combined it with his own ideas. The story is shrouded in secrecy, but we know it centers on a group of explorers traveling to the farther outreach of space with mention of wormholes and possibly time travel. In other words, hard science fiction with the real-world authenticity we’ve come to love and expect. It must be said he cast two of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now, Matthew McConaughey and Jessica Chastain, indicating the magnetic pull his starring roles have. Not to mention it was shot on IMAX and looks to be last film shown on 70mm film, it’s simply no less than the biggest must-see movie event of 2014.
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10.) Captain Philips- The best execution yet of Paul Greengrass’ trend-setting revival of cinema verité realism, the film sucks out the air of your lungs and leaves you gasping your breath. It’s riveting cinema, especially in how smoothly Greengrass navigates through the trappings of a thriller while always keeping the geopolitical undertones in focus. Take for instance an early scene where the Somali Pirates are given a brutal speech on how to earn ripped write out of Glengarry Glen Ross. This is one of two marvelous performances by Tom Hanks this year, but this is by far the better. It may be his best.
9.) Nebraska- The Descendants never struck a personal cord with me, but Nebraska did. It’s an efficient dramedy led by a shocking turn by lead actor Bruce Dern, most known for playing grizzly and violent character actors (most recently seen in Django Unchained as a viscous slaver), as a gentle but stubborn old man. He won lead actor at Cannes, and Nebraska is all him. Comedy and drama are exchanged freely and cleverly throughout, with many of the film’s most poignant moments sharing both. The sweeping black and white photography emphasizes the necessary nostalgia of the piece, and it’s a great and endearing portrait of aging.
8.) Prisoners - One of 2013’s surprises, this child-gone-missing thriller uses its generic premise as grounds to explore deep and troubling themes about humanity. How far will a man go? Director Denis Villeneuve is one of the best rising directors today, and he dramatizes big questions with a surprisingly potent veracity rare in big studio movies today. It wouldn’t have gotten made without the support of lead actors Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal, both of whom give high nuanced and fantastic performances. Though forgotten by awards season, it’s still one of 2013’s best films.
7.) The Desolation of Smaug- A huge upgrade from the first Hobbit film in almost every way, Smaug literally left me on the edge for the final picture. The set pieces rank as many of the best in Peter Jackson’s career, and Smaug himself is one of the greatest achievements of computer wizardry to date. Each location serves as a different political perspective on Middle Earth, and from the Dickensian Laketown to the Isolationist Woodland Realm, the world building is truly excellent. So is the movie.
6.) The Act of Killing- In this revolutionary documentary by Joshua Oppenheimer, one of the least publicized genocides is investigated. But, instead of the usual Wikipedia-like information download documentaries often can be, Oppenheimer asked those behind the documentary to recreate some of their killings in their favorite movie genres- the western, the gangster film, the musical, and others. Celebrated in their home country as much they celebrate themselves, these men provoke serious thought and discussion, making The Act of Killing one of the most surreal and powerful films this year.
5.) American Hustle- Christian Bale is at his transformative best, Bradley Cooper has never been this spontaneous or wired, Amy Adams gives one of the most complex performances of her career, and Jennifer Lawrence might win a second Oscar. Hustle’s all about the characters, and that cast nails it. That doesn’t stop it from being one of the most breezily entertaining movie in recent memory, one that uses its late 70s style to hilarious ends. Of David O. Russell’s previous three movies, this is easily his best.
4.) The Wolf of Wall Street - Leading actor Leonardo DiCaprio has been trying to get this made for half a decade, and it’s easy to see why. Shakespearian tragedy told by way of cocaine, masturbation, hookers (so many hookers), and stock fraud, Wolf is one of Scorsese’s best. It also doubles as the best showcase of Leo’s talents yet, and his is the best performance this year. The three hour running time flies by, and a certain scene involving Lem(m)ons is so funny, you’ll leave the theater with your sides stinging.
3.) Gravity- Gravity grabbed the world by storm and went on to make more than 650,000,000 dollars worldwide. This is an astounding accomplishment, proving studios can take a mega-risk on the artistic elite and still make a buck. It’s not just one of the most tantalizing experiences I’ve ever had in a movie theater, but it’s also become an instant classic in sci-fi cinema in general. It’s the movie that made you feel like you’ve been to space, dramatizing the cosmos with beauty and terror in equal measure. It’s a stunner.
1.) Blue is the Warmest Color- A film that, to heartbreaking effect, encapsulates what it is to love in the modern age. In America, Color is famous for a nine minute long lesbian sex scene where prosthetic vaginas were used to simulate real sex. That’s a shame, since Color is nothing less than an artistic triumph on the part of all involved, and deserves far better. It unanimously won the Golden Palm award from Cannes, its highest award, and, famously, protocol was broken to give the lead actress award to both of the film’s leading ladies. They’re transcendent. This is a must-watch, and its Criterion Blu-Ray is only months away.
1.) 12 Years a Slave- Back in mid-October, walking out of the Chicago International Film Festival, I predicted this as best picture. Not because I also suspected it would top my top 10 of the year, which it clearly has, but because director Steve McQueen does for slavery what Steven Spielberg did for the Holocaust. It’s accessible enough to show your friends, but at such an artistic high it will satisfy any cinephile. Slavery has never been seen as heartbreakingly vivid or fully realized, and it has haunted me ever since. A tremendous achievement, and, if it wins, will be one of the most deserving ever.
Runner Ups: Mud, Pacific Rim, The Place Beyond the Pines, Upstream Color, Dallas Buyers Club
Netflix Picks is a feature published the first and third* Wednesday of the month with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
* The regular schedule will resume by February.
The Untouchables (1987) - From the director of Scarface and Mission Impossible is this 1987 classic, a picture about the men who took on Capone. It’s the coppers, Kevin Costner, Sean Connery, and Andy Garcia, versus Robert De Niro playing the Cicero gangster himself. From De Niro’s delightfully campy performance to Connery perfectly playing a disillusioned beat cop, the cast is uniformly excellent. The prohibition era was painstakingly created, and that level of detail for the era is only matched by Sam Mendes’ also excellent Road to Perdition. Plus, the action is clear, punchy, and violent, and this lesser classic deserves to be seen and seen again.
Hugo (2011) - An unapologetic, wide-eyes open, heart on your sleeve love letter to all things cinema. It’s necessary viewing for anyone with an affection for film, filmmaking, or its cultural importance today. The core “story” is less important than its allegorical meaning, and it’s the warmest and most endearing film Martin Scorsese has ever made. It’s a personal pick for me, and the final 45 minutes are a wonder.
Memento (2001) - Christopher Nolan is quickly becoming the replacement of Steven Spielberg, a director whose name alone puts ass in seat. Memento was his golden ticket to notoriety, and it made a splash in the art house circuit at its release in 2001. It didn’t just receive ample critical acclaim, it also brought in 40 mil internationally. That’s gangbusters at the B.O. as far as art house is concerned. Its big attraction? Memento is told backwards, inverting the chronological order so the first scene in the movie’s timeline is its last and vice versa. Adding insult to injury, the main character, Lenny, can’t form new memories. It’s a dazzling display of subjective storytelling in film form and proves the narrative liberties usually only found in literature can be enjoyed equally as well in cinema.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)- As easy as it is to love, it’s even easier to sell. It’s one of the most famous Westerns ever made, but it‘s so modern in its make you’d mistake it for a contemporary actioner. It couldn’t be more fun, a lot of which is undoubtedly due to the two main characters. The title characters, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, are played by screen legends Robert Redford and Paul Newman. Their chemistry jumps off the screen, and it’s one of the great bromances of film history. It’s dangerous, irreverent, and fantastically thrilling fun.
The House of the Devil (2009)- A throwback to the horror classics of the 1980s, this slow-burn thriller is sure to conjure a sure sense of nostalgia even if you aren’t familiar with the films from which it quotes. There’s a welcome authenticity and attention to detail in capturing the decade, from the costumes, cars, and even the film. It was shot on 16mm and slightly degraded to give the picture a weathered look, which also helps set the sinister tone. It’s a blast.
Coriolanus (2011) - There’s been something of a resurgence in modern day adaptations of Shakespeare, from Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing, to FX’s huge hit Sons of Anarchy, which is a (very) loose adaption of Hamlet. Coriolanus is a startlingly brutal and provocative directional debut by the criminally underemployed Ralph Fiennes, and he spins contemporary relevance into its classic words. Whether you love Shakespeare or not, this is rousing viewing.
The Blue Angel (1930)- Angel is an underrated classic that has recently gained contemporary notice due to a well received Blu-ray release that has caused critics to rethink its importance. It’s not one of ‘those’ truly great films, but as a film concerned with the invention of sound and its affect on film as a whole, it’s fascinating. Chronicling the downward spiral of an esteemed professor, one who is symbolic of sound, it’s one of the first talkies to really analyze what sound means for the future of movies. To director Josef von Sternberg, the future looked bleak.
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Netflix Picks is a feature published the first and third* Wednesday of the month with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
* The regular schedule will resume by February.
The Untouchables (1987) - From the director of Scarface and Mission Impossible is this 1987 classic, a picture about the men who took on Capone. It’s the coppers, Kevin Costner, Sean Connery, and Andy Garcia, versus Robert De Niro playing the Cicero gangster himself. From De Niro’s delightfully campy performance to Connery perfectly playing a disillusioned beat cop, the cast is uniformly excellent. The prohibition era was painstakingly created, and that level of detail for the era is only matched by Sam Mendes’ also excellent Road to Perdition. Plus, the action is clear, punchy, and violent, and this lesser classic deserves to be seen and seen again.
Hugo (2011) - An unapologetic, wide-eyes open, heart on your sleeve love letter to all things cinema. It’s necessary viewing for anyone with an affection for film, filmmaking, or its cultural importance today. The core “story” is less important than its allegorical meaning, and it’s the warmest and most endearing film Martin Scorsese has ever made. It’s a personal pick for me, and the final 45 minutes are a wonder.
Memento (2001) - Christopher Nolan is quickly becoming the replacement of Steven Spielberg, a director whose name alone puts ass in seat. Memento was his golden ticket to notoriety, and it made a splash in the art house circuit at its release in 2001. It didn’t just receive ample critical acclaim, it also brought in 40 mil internationally. That’s gangbusters at the B.O. as far as art house is concerned. Its big attraction? Memento is told backwards, inverting the chronological order so the first scene in the movie’s timeline is its last and vice versa. Adding insult to injury, the main character, Lenny, can’t form new memories. It’s a dazzling display of subjective storytelling in film form and proves the narrative liberties usually only found in literature can be enjoyed equally as well in cinema.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)- As easy as it is to love, it’s even easier to sell. It’s one of the most famous Westerns ever made, but it‘s so modern in its make you’d mistake it for a contemporary actioner. It couldn’t be more fun, a lot of which is undoubtedly due to the two main characters. The title characters, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, are played by screen legends Robert Redford and Paul Newman. Their chemistry jumps off the screen, and it’s one of the great bromances of film history. It’s dangerous, irreverent, and fantastically thrilling fun.
The House of the Devil (2009)- A throwback to the horror classics of the 1980s, this slow-burn thriller is sure to conjure a sure sense of nostalgia even if you aren’t familiar with the films from which it quotes. There’s a welcome authenticity and attention to detail in capturing the decade, from the costumes, cars, and even the film. It was shot on 16mm and slightly degraded to give the picture a weathered look, which also helps set the sinister tone. It’s a blast.
Coriolanus (2011) - There’s been something of a resurgence in modern day adaptations of Shakespeare, from Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing, to FX’s huge hit Sons of Anarchy, which is a (very) loose adaption of Hamlet. Coriolanus is a startlingly brutal and provocative directional debut by the criminally underemployed Ralph Fiennes, and he spins contemporary relevance into its classic words. Whether you love Shakespeare or not, this is rousing viewing.
The Blue Angel (1930)- Angel is an underrated classic that has recently gained contemporary notice due to a well received Blu-ray release that has caused critics to rethink its importance. It’s not one of ‘those’ truly great films, but as a film concerned with the invention of sound and its affect on film as a whole, it’s fascinating. Chronicling the downward spiral of an esteemed professor, one who is symbolic of sound, it’s one of the first talkies to really analyze what sound means for the future of movies. To director Josef von Sternberg, the future looked bleak.
]]>
-These aren’t necessarily in order.
-This list is designed as a reflection of taste.
-Yes, I realize my top ten favorite films actually number fifteen.
-All the images are high res so it might take a hot sec to load everything.
1.) The Lord of the Rings- The Return of the King (Peter Jackson, 2003)
A cinematic marvel that doubles as a profound emotional experience equally as well as a big screen adventure, Peter Jackson's finale to The Lord of the Rings perfectly captures the spirit of Tolkien. And, perhaps most importantly, the deeply philosophical core hasn't been forgotten.
1.) Star Wars- The Empire Strikes Back (Irvin Kershner, 1980)
If Star Wars (1977) epitomized Joseph Campbell's Hero of a Thousand Faces by throwing in every story archetype George Lucas could think of into a ways-of-the- force-powered blender, Empire defied them all. Rich, dark, and utterly unconventional, it forced viewers around the world to rethink the possibilities of the blockbuster while being a highly satisfying and emotionally resonant adventure in its own right.
3.) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Stanley Kubrick, who’s for my money the best director in the history of the medium, constructed a highly lyrical operatic opus that delves deep into our existential presence in the universe. As a friend once said, if this film doesn’t leave you wondering about god, science, the universe, and your place in it, you might not be human.
4.) Schindler’s List (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
Dramatizing the Holocaust with heartbreaking care, Steven Spielberg’s masterpiece is the only film to ever keep me up at night. Incorrectly labeled as sentimental hogwash by some, Schindler’s List uses a fiery hope not to gloss over the plight and death of millions, but instead as a tool of narrative juxtaposition, contextualizing the extremity of evil that Nazism was. Harrowing and beautiful, it’s the best film Spielberg will probably ever make.
5.) Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981)
The ultimate action/adventure film, Raiders defines the abstract idea people refer to when saying “I want to go to the movies.” It’s an intangible quality no film has yet successfully mimicked, and no film probably will. What can I say, Spielberg’s a master.
6.) Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)
Famous BBC and Guardian critic Mark Kermode called Nolan’s 2005 superhero reboot Batman Begins an art house movie masquerading as a blockbuster. It’s a statement that’s gone on to encapsulate four of the fan favorite director’s movies, but it’s probably never been more applicable than with 2010’s Inception. Spiritual, existential, and scientific, Nolan tackles big ideas in one of the most rousing and intellectually tantalizing films of the modern film era.
7.) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)
Arguably as influential as the popular number one pick for the best film of all time, Citizen Kane, Akira Kurosawa singlehandedly wrote the rulebook on action/adventure film in this acclaimed classic. The rhythm, pacing, and sustained excitement over the three and a half hour running time is nothing short of extraordinary, making it one of the rare films you can dare to call perfect without rolling eyes.
8.) Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)
The most epic film ever made, the epic of epics, Lawrence of Arabia’s legendary scale is matched only by the grandeur of Lawrence himself. A character study at its heart, Lawrence, the film and the man, treats death and glory as though they were a fetish, giving a sexual charge to the film that powers the drama as much as thousands of extras on horseback. It’s the quintessential film to see on the big screen, and to see it in 70mm at a classic movie house? That’s the stuff of the gods.
9.) Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)
Sci-fi as moral parable has never been more poignant than in Ridley Scott’s neo-noir masterpiece Blade Runner. Set in a hellish 2019 Los Angeles, it has one of the most atmospheric moods in cinema history. Following a detective hot on the tail of renegade androids seeking to live past the death date their human makers programmed into them, this is a film that roots deep and stays long after its ended.
10.) Oldboy (Chan-wook Park, 2005)
A cocktail of psychological warfare and stylistic invention, Oldboy’s a shock to the system that left me mesmerized. A surrealist nightmare, it’s a film best left discovered. Watch it.
11.) Princess Mononke (Hayao Miyazaki, 1997)
A mythic opera of Japanese lore, Miyazaki crafts a potent narrative full of real-world allegory that’s as visually wondrous as it is violent.
12.) Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
Featured in my first article of Netflix Picks, I summed it up well: One of Woody Allen’s most loved pictures, and with reason. It doesn’t carry the one-two punch witticisms of his best picture winning Annie Hall, but it remains Allen’s most artistically accomplished work. And, for me, it’s the most romantic movie ever made.
13.) Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
Stalker shows the art-house master Tarkovsky at the height of his cinematic powers, making a film that defies verbal explanation but promotes deep poetic understanding. Famous for a lyrical cinematic style made up of cinematography that often resembles moving paintings as well as reflective dialogue, Stalker is his most fully realized work.
14.) The Social Network (David Fincher, 2010)
The Social Network is a revolution to itself, bringing together a stunning ensemble of authoritative cut-cut-cut editing, a twisted electronic score by Trent Reznor, darkly beautiful digital cinematography, and the definitive narrative for Generation X. Following the creation of Facebook and the court cases that ensued, the film meditates on our fetishized use of digital technology and the hollowed relationships that come as a result. It’s a film about how we act, think, and why, and its relevance increases daily. It’s one of the only contemporary films with a sure shot at becoming a classic, if it isn’t already.
15.) Mulholland Dr. (David Lynch, 2001)
It might be an eccentric commentary on the BS politics of Hollywood, a despairing glance at a crushed soul, or a one of a million other interpretations famed filmmaker David Lynch would insist you’re wrong about, but Mulholland Dr. is a surrealist masterwork. Giving one of those can’t-take-my-eyes-off-her performances, this isn’t just one of the most underrated performances of the 2000s, but it proves Naomi Watts is one of the most underrated actresses working today.
]]>
-These aren’t necessarily in order.
-This list is designed as a reflection of taste.
-Yes, I realize my top ten favorite films actually number fifteen.
-All the images are high res so it might take a hot sec to load everything.
1.) The Lord of the Rings- The Return of the King (Peter Jackson, 2003)
A cinematic marvel that doubles as a profound emotional experience equally as well as a big screen adventure, Peter Jackson's finale to The Lord of the Rings perfectly captures the spirit of Tolkien. And, perhaps most importantly, the deeply philosophical core hasn't been forgotten.
1.) Star Wars- The Empire Strikes Back (Irvin Kershner, 1980)
If Star Wars (1977) epitomized Joseph Campbell's Hero of a Thousand Faces by throwing in every story archetype George Lucas could think of into a ways-of-the- force-powered blender, Empire defied them all. Rich, dark, and utterly unconventional, it forced viewers around the world to rethink the possibilities of the blockbuster while being a highly satisfying and emotionally resonant adventure in its own right.
3.) 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
Stanley Kubrick, who’s for my money the best director in the history of the medium, constructed a highly lyrical operatic opus that delves deep into our existential presence in the universe. As a friend once said, if this film doesn’t leave you wondering about god, science, the universe, and your place in it, you might not be human.
4.) Schindler’s List (Steven Spielberg, 1993)
Dramatizing the Holocaust with heartbreaking care, Steven Spielberg’s masterpiece is the only film to ever keep me up at night. Incorrectly labeled as sentimental hogwash by some, Schindler’s List uses a fiery hope not to gloss over the plight and death of millions, but instead as a tool of narrative juxtaposition, contextualizing the extremity of evil that Nazism was. Harrowing and beautiful, it’s the best film Spielberg will probably ever make.
5.) Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981)
The ultimate action/adventure film, Raiders defines the abstract idea people refer to when saying “I want to go to the movies.” It’s an intangible quality no film has yet successfully mimicked, and no film probably will. What can I say, Spielberg’s a master.
6.) Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)
Famous BBC and Guardian critic Mark Kermode called Nolan’s 2005 superhero reboot Batman Begins an art house movie masquerading as a blockbuster. It’s a statement that’s gone on to encapsulate four of the fan favorite director’s movies, but it’s probably never been more applicable than with 2010’s Inception. Spiritual, existential, and scientific, Nolan tackles big ideas in one of the most rousing and intellectually tantalizing films of the modern film era.
7.) Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)
Arguably as influential as the popular number one pick for the best film of all time, Citizen Kane, Akira Kurosawa singlehandedly wrote the rulebook on action/adventure film in this acclaimed classic. The rhythm, pacing, and sustained excitement over the three and a half hour running time is nothing short of extraordinary, making it one of the rare films you can dare to call perfect without rolling eyes.
8.) Lawrence of Arabia (David Lean, 1962)
The most epic film ever made, the epic of epics, Lawrence of Arabia’s legendary scale is matched only by the grandeur of Lawrence himself. A character study at its heart, Lawrence, the film and the man, treats death and glory as though they were a fetish, giving a sexual charge to the film that powers the drama as much as thousands of extras on horseback. It’s the quintessential film to see on the big screen, and to see it in 70mm at a classic movie house? That’s the stuff of the gods.
9.) Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)
Sci-fi as moral parable has never been more poignant than in Ridley Scott’s neo-noir masterpiece Blade Runner. Set in a hellish 2019 Los Angeles, it has one of the most atmospheric moods in cinema history. Following a detective hot on the tail of renegade androids seeking to live past the death date their human makers programmed into them, this is a film that roots deep and stays long after its ended.
10.) Oldboy (Chan-wook Park, 2005)
A cocktail of psychological warfare and stylistic invention, Oldboy’s a shock to the system that left me mesmerized. A surrealist nightmare, it’s a film best left discovered. Watch it.
11.) Princess Mononke (Hayao Miyazaki, 1997)
A mythic opera of Japanese lore, Miyazaki crafts a potent narrative full of real-world allegory that’s as visually wondrous as it is violent.
12.) Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979)
Featured in my first article of Netflix Picks, I summed it up well: One of Woody Allen’s most loved pictures, and with reason. It doesn’t carry the one-two punch witticisms of his best picture winning Annie Hall, but it remains Allen’s most artistically accomplished work. And, for me, it’s the most romantic movie ever made.
13.) Stalker (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979)
Stalker shows the art-house master Tarkovsky at the height of his cinematic powers, making a film that defies verbal explanation but promotes deep poetic understanding. Famous for a lyrical cinematic style made up of cinematography that often resembles moving paintings as well as reflective dialogue, Stalker is his most fully realized work.
14.) The Social Network (David Fincher, 2010)
The Social Network is a revolution to itself, bringing together a stunning ensemble of authoritative cut-cut-cut editing, a twisted electronic score by Trent Reznor, darkly beautiful digital cinematography, and the definitive narrative for Generation X. Following the creation of Facebook and the court cases that ensued, the film meditates on our fetishized use of digital technology and the hollowed relationships that come as a result. It’s a film about how we act, think, and why, and its relevance increases daily. It’s one of the only contemporary films with a sure shot at becoming a classic, if it isn’t already.
15.) Mulholland Dr. (David Lynch, 2001)
It might be an eccentric commentary on the BS politics of Hollywood, a despairing glance at a crushed soul, or a one of a million other interpretations famed filmmaker David Lynch would insist you’re wrong about, but Mulholland Dr. is a surrealist masterwork. Giving one of those can’t-take-my-eyes-off-her performances, this isn’t just one of the most underrated performances of the 2000s, but it proves Naomi Watts is one of the most underrated actresses working today.
]]>
Real life has gotten in the way of writing up consistent additions of Netflix Picks, but luckily all should be in order from the here on out. Without further ado:
Dredd (2012) - Though it failed to explode at the box office, Dredd has since found a thriving life on home video, making 16 million dollars there. There’s a reason: It’s genre parodying while still succeeding as a great film within it. Dredd is a slickly shot and nearly perfectly paced piece of irreverent science fiction brutality. It’s B-movie, bloody fun. Karl Urban sells the iconic Dredd character perfectly, and Lena Headey of Game of Thrones makes a mean villain. If you need a rockin’ good time on a rainy Sunday night, toss this on.
Jackie Brown (1997) - Following the pulpy mayhem of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown plays it cool. Real cool. Soul cool. This caused audiences and critics to be lukewarm on Tarantino’s follow up, but with a driven leading performance by Sam Grier, an unhinged Rob DeNiro, and supported by a Samuel L. Jackson that’s never had more class, it’s an unmissable entry into Tarantino’s catalogue. Since the late ‘90s, the consensus has grown fonder, with an increased number of critics and fans alike dubbing it one of Tarantino’s best. I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s a joy.
Being John Malcovich (1999) - Along with Adaptation, Being John Malcovich shows two Indie prizes working alongside to make a unique and tremblingly odd picture imdb summarizes as “A Puppeteer discovers a portal that leads literally into the head of the movie star, John Malcovich.” Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, the visionary behind Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (in a previous entry of Netflix Picks) and Synecdoche, New York is joined by Spike Jonze, whose recent film Her stands at an impressive 91% on Rotten Tomatoes. Also like Adaptation, Being John Malcovich is a symphony of self-reflexivity, meaning it meditates on its own status as a work of art. It’s also probably the best performance of John Cusack’s career, and Mr. Malcovich himself is enjoyably Malcovichian.
New World (2013) - South Korea’s answer to the Hong Kong megahit Infernal Affairs and the American best picture winning adaptation that followed, The Departed, New World chronicles the lengthy saga of a mob boss dying and a police-placed rat trying to influence the outcome. Min-Sik Choi (Oldboy, I Saw the Devil) gives a startlingly subtle performance for him, playing the role of the police head in control of the rat. It’s an engaging and adrenaline-filled saga, especially the mid-film brawl between rival gangs in a parking garage. It doesn’t try to innovate or invent, instead using the well-established rules of the crime genre to make a slick and engaging film that leaves most American thrillers in the dust.
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) - John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart are pitted against one another in the rare film that features both cinema icons. It’s directed by the arguably the finest filmmaker of the Western genre, John Ford. Ford’s real classic is The Searchers, but this late period Western sees Ford at his most pensive and looking back on his long career. It has an effect that gives the usual and still highly enjoyable tropes added emotional weight that makes Valance one of the best films of Ford’s career and necessary viewing for any fan of film.
Strike (1925) - Director Sergei Eisentein became internationally famous for his Marxist opus Battleship Potemkin, a film credited with inciting revolutionist attitudes that would satisfy any Marxist. Strike is a lesser seen film. Eisentein’s real claim to fame is the ‘montage’ visual style, where harshly contrasted images are put up against one another to imply arresting political ideas. For instance, cutting between the butchering of an animal and the rising tensions of a military crew. The power is in the juxtaposition. For a powerful history lesson and a fascinating watch, I highly recommend Strike. Plus, it’s short.
Antichrist (2009) - Only for the most twisted viewers. Antichrist is a plunge into surrealist horror with some of the most unhinged and brutal sequences in recent memory. Written and directed by Danish filmmaker Lars Von Trier, who in 2011 made the surprise art house hit Melancholia, Antichrist follows a couple who find refuge in a cabin deep in the woods after the death of their child. They begin to experience a series of otherworldly phenomena, and stars Charlotte Gainsbourg and Willem Dafoe bring their terror. Gainsbourg won best actress at Cannes for her performance, and it’s earned.
]]>Real life has gotten in the way of writing up consistent additions of Netflix Picks, but luckily all should be in order from the here on out. Without further ado:
Dredd (2012) - Though it failed to explode at the box office, Dredd has since found a thriving life on home video, making 16 million dollars there. There’s a reason: It’s genre parodying while still succeeding as a great film within it. Dredd is a slickly shot and nearly perfectly paced piece of irreverent science fiction brutality. It’s B-movie, bloody fun. Karl Urban sells the iconic Dredd character perfectly, and Lena Headey of Game of Thrones makes a mean villain. If you need a rockin’ good time on a rainy Sunday night, toss this on.
Jackie Brown (1997) - Following the pulpy mayhem of Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown plays it cool. Real cool. Soul cool. This caused audiences and critics to be lukewarm on Tarantino’s follow up, but with a driven leading performance by Sam Grier, an unhinged Rob DeNiro, and supported by a Samuel L. Jackson that’s never had more class, it’s an unmissable entry into Tarantino’s catalogue. Since the late ‘90s, the consensus has grown fonder, with an increased number of critics and fans alike dubbing it one of Tarantino’s best. I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s a joy.
Being John Malcovich (1999) - Along with Adaptation, Being John Malcovich shows two Indie prizes working alongside to make a unique and tremblingly odd picture imdb summarizes as “A Puppeteer discovers a portal that leads literally into the head of the movie star, John Malcovich.” Screenwriter Charlie Kaufman, the visionary behind Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (in a previous entry of Netflix Picks) and Synecdoche, New York is joined by Spike Jonze, whose recent film Her stands at an impressive 91% on Rotten Tomatoes. Also like Adaptation, Being John Malcovich is a symphony of self-reflexivity, meaning it meditates on its own status as a work of art. It’s also probably the best performance of John Cusack’s career, and Mr. Malcovich himself is enjoyably Malcovichian.
New World (2013) - South Korea’s answer to the Hong Kong megahit Infernal Affairs and the American best picture winning adaptation that followed, The Departed, New World chronicles the lengthy saga of a mob boss dying and a police-placed rat trying to influence the outcome. Min-Sik Choi (Oldboy, I Saw the Devil) gives a startlingly subtle performance for him, playing the role of the police head in control of the rat. It’s an engaging and adrenaline-filled saga, especially the mid-film brawl between rival gangs in a parking garage. It doesn’t try to innovate or invent, instead using the well-established rules of the crime genre to make a slick and engaging film that leaves most American thrillers in the dust.
The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962) - John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart are pitted against one another in the rare film that features both cinema icons. It’s directed by the arguably the finest filmmaker of the Western genre, John Ford. Ford’s real classic is The Searchers, but this late period Western sees Ford at his most pensive and looking back on his long career. It has an effect that gives the usual and still highly enjoyable tropes added emotional weight that makes Valance one of the best films of Ford’s career and necessary viewing for any fan of film.
Strike (1925) - Director Sergei Eisentein became internationally famous for his Marxist opus Battleship Potemkin, a film credited with inciting revolutionist attitudes that would satisfy any Marxist. Strike is a lesser seen film. Eisentein’s real claim to fame is the ‘montage’ visual style, where harshly contrasted images are put up against one another to imply arresting political ideas. For instance, cutting between the butchering of an animal and the rising tensions of a military crew. The power is in the juxtaposition. For a powerful history lesson and a fascinating watch, I highly recommend Strike. Plus, it’s short.
Antichrist (2009) - Only for the most twisted viewers. Antichrist is a plunge into surrealist horror with some of the most unhinged and brutal sequences in recent memory. Written and directed by Danish filmmaker Lars Von Trier, who in 2011 made the surprise art house hit Melancholia, Antichrist follows a couple who find refuge in a cabin deep in the woods after the death of their child. They begin to experience a series of otherworldly phenomena, and stars Charlotte Gainsbourg and Willem Dafoe bring their terror. Gainsbourg won best actress at Cannes for her performance, and it’s earned.
]]>Netflix Picks is a feature published the first and third Wednesday of the month with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
Only God Forgives (2013)- Nicolas Winding Refn delivered an instant cult favorite with his 2011 film titled Drive, which saw Ryan Gosling bring his schoolboy mug into the twisted world of L.A. crime as a getaway driver. Drive was often labeled the coolest movie in years, a statement many, including myself, have trouble rebuking. These points are important to make, since they're entirely responsible for the critical trashing of Refn and Gosling's next team up, Only God Forgives. A fundamentally different film but one extremely worthy of a watch. Drawing clear inspiration from David Lynch, Forgives is a bad acid trip running amok over the course of an hour and a half, with the seedy underbelly of Thailand serving as the setting. "Good" or "bad" hardly apply to it, and instead the film provokes viewers, and illicit a powerful reaction. A 'whatever' response is not in the cards, and I highly recommend it.
The Hunger Games (2012) - With its sequel ready to debut in just a day or two, revisiting the box office sensation based on the similarly best selling book seems appropriate. Jennifer Lawrence is undeniably strong as a lead character, and singlehandedly carries the burden of making the movie work. It helps that Katniss shares some of Lawrence's characteristics, even if she's much warmer in real life. Whether you were hot or cold on The Hunger Games when it was theaters, taking another spin in the hunger games is a positive experience, and worth seeing again before its much better sequel.
I Saw the Devil (2010) - The South Korean revenge fantasy has become a global sensation, with major Oldboy filmmaker Chan-wook Park leading the charge with his beloved revenge trilogy. Lesser known but constantly increasing in popularity is Kim Jee-Woon's horror/thriller I Saw the Devil. It's a savage story meditating on the thin line between a monster and the men that chase them, recalling Nietzche's famous quote: "if you gaze not the abyss, the abyss looks back into you" Amongst the most brutal and savage films available for streaming on Netflix, it is one of the only contemporary movies able to make my iron clad stomach churn with disgust. The brutality is frighteningly compelling, and with singularly stylish direction and amazing performances, it's a must see.
Metropolis (1927)- Director Fritz Lang singlehandedly started the modern science fiction film with his german expressionist masterpiece Metropolis. At once illuminating the eternal struggle between class and still succeeding as one of the most visually dazzling images ever to be put to film, it's the best film on this list, and one of the best on Netflix as well. It hasn't aged a day.
Fargo (1996) - The Coen Brothers rank amongst the finest filmmakers working today, and after working for roughly two decades, they command an impressive body of work that many say puts them on the highest pedestal of cinema as art. Those that know me are aware I disagree, but it doesn't mean you will, and their small town / black comedy / kidnapping gone wrong / social satire called Fargo is one of their most loved. Sure, it's important to see and is one of the biggest classics from the 1990's, but it's the sheer enjoyability of the piece that makes it so rewatchable for so many.
Brick (2005)- It's oft credited as one of the films that began Joseph Gordon Levitt's rise to movie stardom, but more interesting is how Brick established writer/director Rian Johnson as a formidable artistic force to keep an eye on. It's paid off, not only because he has one of the most successful sci-fi films since 2000 already in the can (Looper), but because he goes down in pop culture history as having directed the best Breaking Bad episode of all time, Season 5's Ozymandias. Brick updates the classic Hollywood noir into a high school setting while making it seem weirdly credible and bizarrely fun. It's a small film for a small evening, but it's a joy.
The Red Balloon (1956) - This is a French film following a boy who has an irregularly large red balloon. Paris has rarely ever looked so beautiful, making the final film all the more enchanting. At only a half hour, you have no excuse. It's magical.
]]>Netflix Picks is a feature published the first and third Wednesday of the month with a list of seven films currently available for streaming on Netflix and the reasons for why you should watch them.
Full confession: I’ve been admittedly slacking on getting this feature up and running for the site, but it starts today. With every article, I’ll include a comprehensive list at the bottom, and I hope to have a diverse and thorough selection. What’s good on Netflix is one of the most frequently recurring questions I’m asked by people I know, so here you have it. Some of these I may later go on to fully review, but for now:
1.) Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (2011)- A Turkish film by director Nuri Bilge Ceylan, it popped up on many critics’ top ten lists in 2012 but went unseen by most cinemagoers in America. The premise is straightforward- a trope of men, policemen, doctors, etc, are searching for the corpse of a murdered man in a vast tortured landscape at night, often illuminated by the solitary beams of car headlights. It’s a haunting image for a haunting film, full of weary men and the secrets they try and keep. The first half is the stronger, and functions as a damning gateway to existential turmoil, using the the proxy of a body search to meditate on the nature of being. It’s a heavy film and not for the lighthearted, but for the patient and cerebral viewer, it’s a treasure, and that’s why it gets the top spot.
2.) Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)- If you could erase away all the memories and pain of past relationships, would you? This is a film of romance and fractured memories following the consequences of a love story running amok parallel to a new procedure that allows the deletion of specific memories. Jim Carrey fronts the cast with a sweet melancholy, a showcase for his dramatic skill as an actor that’ll make you wish he ventured into serious territory more often. It’s a kooky off-kilter delight.
3.) Let the Right One In (2008)- A Swedish film by filmmaker Tomas Alfredson, it is simply the finest vampire film in a decade or more, maybe even ever. The careful compositions of cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema are stunning and stages the minimalist action and drama with necessary precision. It’s a tender, scary, but beautiful film, and it’s one of my most common recommendations. Let the Right One In is an easy film to love.
4.) The Host (2006)- Part political satire, part family drama, and part mega-monster on the loose action movie, this Korean gem shook waves upon release and continued the prolific career of loved South Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-Ho. It follows a dysfunctional family who, of course, can only learn to come together when confronted with a unifying crisis, this case being a frightening monster terrorizing citizens. Its outlandish and often campy tone lends the film a thrilling levity, never taking anything too seriously except the characters. It’s a highly successful formula, one Hollywood should learn from.
5.) Side by Side (2012)- Perhaps the most vital and relevant debate within the film industry today is film vs digital. Champions of film continue to be Dark Knight Trilogy creator Christopher Nolan, Steven Spielberg, Quentin Tarantino, and many others. Digital’s pioneers include other filmmakers of similar fame, such as David Fincher, James Cameron, and even classic filmmaker Martin Scorsese. Although they all don’t appear in the Keanu Reeves led documentary Side by Side, compelling arguments by each side are given in this chronicle of the discourse between the opposing sides. It’s a highly entertaining documentary, shedding light on this essential issue confronting the film industry today.
6.) The Thin Blue Line (1988)- If you’ve ever seen a cop show or documentary where the crime is re-staged and depicted on screen for the viewer to see, it owes a massive debt to the documentary masterpiece The Thin Blue Line. The film is reconstruction of a case gone wrong, effectively arguing with multiple forms of testimony that a man was convicted for a crime he didn’t commit. It set the gold standard for all documentaries or non-fiction programming involving the police, the court, or crime as a whole. Fascinatingly, there’s an undercurrent of post-modernism throughout, letting viewers marinate in questions of subjective reality and truths. It’s a compelling work that was ground breaking upon release, and I couldn’t recommend it enough.
7.) Manhattan (1979)- One of Woody Allen’s most loved pictures, and with reason. It doesn’t carry the one-two punch witticisms of his best picture winning Annie Hall, but it remains Allen’s most artistically accomplished work. It walks a beautiful line between exploiting how we walk down the wrong paths in life and why and carrying a playful romanticism towards love and relationships. The majestic and gorgeous photography sets an epic stage for Allen to wrap up the best solution he’s ever had for the modern relationship, and it couldn’t have painted a prettier picture. I’ve come to believe it’s the most romantic movie ever made.
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