"Hazbin Hotel," Year Two

Spoilers for the first season ahead.

The second season of "Hazbin Hotel" gets right down to business, showing the aftermath of the big extermination battle from season one.  The Hotel is full of sinners who are all there for the wrong reasons, including newcomers Cherri Bomb (Krystina Alabado) and Baxter (Kevin Del Aguila).  Sir Pentious is causing an existential crisis in Heaven, with angels Sera (Patina Miller), Emily (Shoba Narayan), and Lute (Jessica Vosk) in disagreement about what his redemption means for their relations with Hell.  However, the central character of this year is really Vox (Christian Borle), the TV-headed overlord, who with fellow baddies Velvette (LIlli Cooper) and Valentino (Joel Perez) form a villain triumvirate known as the Vees.  As the head of Hell's major telecommunications company, VoxTek, Vox controls the airwaves and social media.  And he sees the chance to consolidate power and take the fight to Heaven.  

I really shouldn't be watching "Hazbin Hotel" for the plot, because despite some significant improvements in the pacing and overall story flow this year, most of the characters are stuck in a holding pattern.  Charlie naively tries to make the case for the Hotel to the rest of Hell, but Vox and his minions keep warping and twisting her message at every turn, causing her to repeatedly spiral.  Angel Dust is said to be the sinner closest to redemption, except he hasn't addressed any of his personal issues, his past, or the whole involuntary servitude thing.  We do start getting pieces of people's backstories, including flashbacks to when characters like Sir Pentious and Alastor were alive on Earth.  These do help a lot to flesh out characters and relationships.  However, most of the big revelations are either severely anticlimactic, or just keep punting the juiciest stuff further down the road, to be addressed later.  The show also has the terrible habit of nerfing its most powerful characters until they need to be badasses for the big finale.         

I know Season Three and Four are coming, and we're going to get answers to some of the remaining mysteries, but I wanted  more out of Season Two.  Everything to do with Vox is great, especially Christian Borle's committed scenery-chewing.  Everything else feels like it's repeating parts of Season One, or maneuvering characters to where they'll need to be for future episodes.  There are a lot of subplots that have yet to be resolved and there are a lot of balls in the air, but when it comes down to it, most of our heroes don't have a whole lot to do beyond singing about their feelings.  The only one of the leads who actually accomplishes something significant is Alastor, and he literally spends three episodes tied up on an office chair.

Still, this is a musical program and we're here for the songs.  There are some bangers this season, including "Gravity" for Lute, "Easy" for Vaggie and Charlie, and "Brighter" for Vox, and "Love in a Bottle" for Husk.  Probably the funniest moment in the whole season is when Niffty gets her own anime OP out of nowhere.  There's really no attempt to hide that this is an earnest musical anymore, with a big, cheesy, uplifting ending clearly designed to get as many cast members on the soundtrack as possible.  The quality of the music remains variable, but about on par with last year.  However, there's a lot more of it, with multiple episodes featuring three full numbers.  My biggest peeve is that Alastor's best song is the "Season 1 Recap Song" that you have to go watch on Youtube.

Production-wise, "Hazbin" looks and sounds great this year.  The crew feel a lot more comfortable in this universe now, and willing to get more ambitious.  The action scenes in particular have improved, with major fights showing off more of the characters' powers.  Husk in action, using magician-themed attacks is especially fun to watch.  Some of the character designs, especially for minor  background demons, still feel goofy and overworked, but I've gotten used to the style.      

Until next time, I'll be enjoying the soundtrack and looking forward to more.

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Thank Goodness for "Sinners"

I have dutifully watched black struggle movies every year for awards season, and supported the work of the black filmmakers who feel compelled to make so many miserable period dramas about the African-American experience.  Though I admire many of these movies, I don't particularly enjoy them, and most of the time they leave me feeling depressed.  "Sinners" starts in similar territory, set in the Mississippi Delta in the 1930s, where the local black community is very poor and under the thumb of rich white landowners.  However, the movie is definitely not operating like prestige cinema.

"Sinners" has a lot to say about race and prejudice and the historical roots of some persistent American social ills, but at the same time it does a fantastic job of being thoroughly entertaining.  The trailer heavily suggests, but doesn't spell out exactly what kind of film "Sinners" is, and not knowing the specifics is probably the best way to go into the film.  If you want to preserve the surprises, you can stop reading here, and I'll just say that the film is an excellent combination of several different genres, with a magnificent soundtrack, and well worth your time. 

Still with me?  Let's get into some details.  Written and directed by Ryan Coogler, "Sinners" is a total original, somehow a musical, a horror movie, and a quasi-western action flick all at the same time.  It is enthusiastically R-rated, not just for blood and gore, but plenty of sensuality and non-explicit sex scenes on the way there.  Michael B. Jordan stars in a double role as Smoke and Stack, twin brothers who have returned from working in Chicago with a wagon full of illicit goods and plenty of cash, intent on opening their own juke joint.  They recruit their younger cousin Sammie (Miles Caton), a preacher's son and gifted musician, Smoke's estranged wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku), local blues player Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo), field worker Cornbread (Omar Benson Miller), and Chinese shopkeepers Bo (Yao) and Grace (Li Jun Li), to help them with their grand opening.  Two unexpected arrivals threaten to throw wrenches in the works.  First, there's Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), Stack's jilted lover who is the wrong color to be hanging around the twins' new enterprise.  Then there's Remmick (Jack O'Connell), an Irishman of malevolent intentions who is new to the area.

"Sinners" is a musical in the same way that "O Brother Where Art Thou?" and "Lovers Rock" are musicals.  While it doesn't follow the structure of a classic song-and-dance spectacle, "Sinners" is a movie where musicians and musical performances play a big part in the story, and are vital to the tone of the entire piece.  The first half of the film meticulously sets up the big night.  We learn all the ins and outs of community, and characters are introduced and brought into the story one by one.  Once we get to the juke joint, however, the musical performances start to drive the action and shape the structure of the film.  A singer named Pearline (Jayme Lawson) appears on the scene as a love interest for Sammie.  The most important set piece of the film is not an action sequence, but Sammie taking the stage and playing the blues so transcendently that it summons visions of the past and future.  Shortly afterwards, Remmick is at the center of another arresting number, featuring Irish folk music. Ludwig Gorransson takes the opportunity to pay tribute to the era's music and culture in many different forms.      

The mix of different traditions is great to see in "Sinners," which has taken pains to include not only the Caucasian and African-American communities of the Mississippi Delta, but also historically accurate Chinese characters, Native Americans, and allusions to other minority groups.  It all helps to create a more complex, nuanced picture of the Jim Crow South than we usually see in movies, and highlight the commonalities in the diverse characters.  While they inhabit a dangerous world full of unseen pitfalls and sudden cruelties, Coogler emphasizes that joy and optimism can exist here too.  Parts of the third act are a little indulgent, with a sharp turn into traditional horror movie territory, and Michael B. Jordan showing off his badass credentials, but it's awfully satisfying to watch.

"Sinners"  is long and winding and full of little digressions, but the journey is worth every step.  I appreciate the extra time given over to making the characters full, well-rounded personalities.  I love the cinematography, which plays with aspect ratios and spatial relationships in delightful ways.  The sound design is fabulous.  I don't feel I can single out any of the performances because the cast is so good across the board, but Miles Caton is one to watch out for.

And I haven't been so thrilled and entertained by the ending of any film in ages.  

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Can't Take a "Joker"

Well, "Joker: Folie à Deux" is not the blockbuster that Warner Brothers was hoping for.  And it's certainly not the film that the fans of  the Joker character were hoping for either.  Todd Phillips, by all accounts, was given carte blanche with the sequel to the surprisingly successful 2019 "Joker" movie, and he made a movie that will only be of interest to a very, very few.  I'm honestly not sure whether or not it's a good movie, but as one of the few people who actually seems to be in the target audience for "Joker: Folie à Deux," I admit that I came away entertained.  However, I completely understand why most viewers were appalled and the studio is treating this as a complete disaster.

Since the first "Joker" was an homage to the early films of Martin Scorsese, and "Joker: Folie à Deux" was rumored to be a musical, I prepped for it by rewatching "New York, New York," and Francis Ford Coppola's "One From the Heart."  "Joker: Folie à Deux," despite Phillips' protestations, is definitely a musical film, but the one I find myself comparing it to is "Pennies From Heaven," the tragic Depression-era anti-musical that juxtaposes its heroes' increasingly miserable lives with elaborate fantasy musical numbers.    "Joker: Folie à Deux" does something similar, taking place mostly in Arkham State Hospital, where Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) has been locked up, awaiting trial for the murders he committed in "Joker."  After he connects with a fellow patient, Lee Quinzel (Lady Gaga), in a music class, he starts imagining himself in musical numbers set to oldies and show tunes.  Yes, Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse's "The Joker" is on the soundtrack.  

The common criticism I've seen of "Joker: Folie à Deux" is that it's determined not to be a crowd-pleaser on any level, and I don't disagree.  The movie actively undercuts the notion that Arthur Fleck is any kind of heroic figure, so the fans who saw him as a pro-anarchy icon in "Joker" get no satisfaction.  Nearly all the violence in the film is directed against him, with no opportunity for reprisal.  The courtroom drama is farcical and devolves into nonsense.  The romance is promising, but comes up pretty half-baked.  Despite the involvement of Lady Gaga, the musical numbers aren't up the standard of your typical song-and-dance picture.  The raw style and Joaquin Phoenix's shaky vocals match the tone of the piece, but none if it's very memorable.  Plus, there are a couple of fake-outs that seem deliberately positioned to frustrate the audience even further.  

It's admirable that Todd Fields has committed to such a starkly bleak vision for this character, and used Warners' money and resources to do it, but my trouble with the film is that the execution is so lacking.  While the film looks gorgeous and expensive, "Joker: Folie à Deux" is badly paced, with a second act that drags interminably.  The scripting is repetitive, disjointed, and dwells on the unpleasantness.  For the first hour or so, I was keeping an open mind as the love story was being set up, and the first few musical numbers were introduced.  However, the movie is not good at actually being a romance or a musical, and wastes the talents of so many talented people.  Lady Gaga is earnestly striving to distinguish her version of Harley Quinn, but gets little of interest to actually do.  Brendan Gleeson plays a guard who is Arthur's primary tormeter in Arkham, and Catherine Keener is his lawyer - both doing their best with pretty empty roles.  As for Joaquin Phoenix, who won an Oscar for playing Arthur Fleck - well, the singing and dancing is new, but the misguided romance and the mental unwinding isn't.  

I'm very happy that Phillips took such a big swing with "Joker: Folie à Deux," even if it didn't turn out the way that anyone wanted.  I think that he could have gone much harder on the spectacle and violence, and darker on the themes and relationships.  I'm glad that there was no attempt whatsoever to make this more related to the Batman universe, but at the same time Philips has also given up on the Scorsese pastiche, which leaves his movie stylistically adrift.  There are a few individual sequences that I enjoyed, and the use of old standards like "That's Entertainment!" and opening with a Sylvain Chomet  animated sequence are points in its favor, but "Joker: Folie à Deux" never seems to find its footing.  Even the ending feels less like a shocker than just putting the movie out of its misery.  

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Checking In to "Hazbin Hotel"

I've thought long and hard about how to describe the adult animated series, "Hazbin Hotel."  I'm going to go with a dark Disney musical that takes place in Hell, where most of the heroes are demonic furries, and everyone curses a lot.  The art style is very mid-2000s Cartoon Network, crossed with Tim Burton-y aesthetics.  The characters wear lots of suits with bowties.  Lots of stripes.  Lots of gigantic eyes.  

Finding the origins of the show led me down several intriguing internet rabbit holes, to "viral creator" Vivienne Medrano, aka Vivziepop.  She's a popular independent animator who built up a following through Youtube videos and webcomics, and managed to crowdfund the pilot for "Hazbin Hotel," which she posted to her Youtube Channel in 2019.  At the time of writing, it has 100 million views and a passel of rabid fans, so it's no wonder A24 took notice.  Five years later, the first season was released on Amazon Prime.  And it's fascinating stuff.

Charlie Morninstar (Erika Henningsen) is the bubbly, do-gooder princess of Hell.  As a naive nepo-baby, she wants to help the denizens of Hell with her latest project, the Hazbin Hotel - intended to redeem the damned and help them ascend to Heaven.  Charlie has the support of her girlfriend Vaggie (Stephanie Beatriz), a very untrustworthy Overlord of Hell named Alastor the Radio Demon (Amir Talai), and his minions Husk (Keith David) and Niffty (Kimiko Glenn), who work as hotel staff.  They start out with two guests - sex worker Angel Dust (Blake Roman) and slithery Sir Pentious (Alex Brightman).  Unfortunately, Heaven hasn't signed off on this idea.  They only seem interested in sending down stabby Exorcists every year to murder Hell's inhabitants (yes, you can die again in Hell) as population control.

"Hazbin" is initially a very tough watch.  There are a ton of characters to introduce, complicated worldbuilding to explain, and lots of different arcs and mysteries to set up.  And frankly, it does this pretty badly.  The pace moves way too fast and I frequently felt like I was missing information.  The chaotic first episode also does that thing that all adult animated series seem to feel obligated to do, which is to pile on the adult content in the first episode to make it very obvious that children should steer clear.  The overkill is not pleasant, and I nearly jumped ship after the premiere.  I think that it's helpful to watch the original "Hazbin Hotel" pilot on Youtube before the rest of the series, because it handles some of the introductions better.  There are also "Hazbin" comics and music videos, which provide a few more answers and bits of context.

I didn't give up after the first episode, however, because the show does a couple of things very well.  The first are the musical numbers.  We get two in each episode, infectious Broadway style songs written and composed by Andrew Underberg and Sam Haft, and sung by stage vets who know what they're doing.  I was not enjoying the exorcist leader Adam (Brightman) until one of his rants turned into a fantastic villain song, "Hell is Forever."  Or there's the villain song that gets taken over by a different villain, "Stayed Gone."  And when Charlie's dad Lucifer (Jeremy Jordan) shows up, of course he gets a number, "Hell's Greatest Dad."  I think Angel's traumatic "Poison" is probably my favorite though, along with the more cheerful "Loser, Baby" duet that gives Keith David a chance to shine.   

 

Also, once things settle down a little, the lead characters are an appealing bunch - Alastor's my favorite for his old-timey radio announcer voice and serial killer vibes.  They're very LGBT friendly, with a lesbian couple front and center, plus others who are genderfluid and/or queer-coded.  There are definitely a few cross-species romances going on.  When you get past all the vulgarities and debauchery, there's a lot of heartfelt talk of emotions and friendship and never giving up in the face of adversity.  A whole episode is devoted to Charlie reconnecting to her dad in a terribly wholesome way.  The darkest material - and the show does get dark - is handled with surprising sensitivity and care.  

So, there's a lot less parody of Disney musicals than I expected, and a lot more of, well, actually sticking to formula and being a Disney musical.  "Hazbin Hotel" talks dirty, but it's got so much earnest theater kid energy, it's no wonder that its audience skews young and obsessive.  However, there's plenty of room for improvement.  A few characters are so over-designed it hurts to look at them.  And the writer's room desperately needs reinforcements.  And it really should not have been so difficult to find the prequel comics that explain how Angel met Charlie.

It's going to be a long wait, but I look forward to season two.

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About That Wonka Prequel

I write this review as a fan of the 1971 "Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory" musical.  The Roald Dahl book was fine, but I don't have the attachment to it that I do to the film adaptation.   When the "Wonka" prequel was announced, I was cautiously optimistic, especially when I heard that Paul King was writing and directing.  The man behind the "Paddington" movies sounded like the right fit for the material, and I liked the idea of a prequel better than another remake.  For the record, I didn't enjoy the Tim Burton attempt - too garish and off putting. 

Those viewers who liked the "Willy Wonka" story for its mean streak and psychedelic imagery will probably be disappointed.  "Wonka" is a very old fashioned musical affair, with a nostalgic tone closer to "Oliver!" and "Annie" than the '71 film.  It's totally kid friendly and parent friendly, featuring a naive youngster named Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet) who is newly arrived in the big city, full of dreams to open his own chocolate shop.  "Wonka" is very much a Dahl pastiche, but one that has put Willy Wonka in the role of the creative, pure-hearted young hero, who has to overcome a lot of adversity. Unlike the previous screen Wonkas, this guy may be a little offbeat, but he's also totally harmless.  There's never a sense that he could have it in him to turn naughty children into blueberries or fudge. 

 

Young Wonka quickly finds himself blocked by a sinister chocolate cartel, consisting of established chocolatiers Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Ficklegruber (Mathew Baynton), and Prodnose (Matt Lucas).  They have a chocoholic police captain (Keegan Michael Key) and the local priest (Rowan Atkinson) on their side.  Then Wonka is tricked and ensnared by the greedy Mrs. Scrubit (Olivia Colman) to work in her laundry alongside several other victims.  One of them is a girl named Noodle (Calah Lane), who becomes Wonka's first friend and ally.  She's much savvier than Wonka, and soon helps him make and sell his magical chocolates in secret.      

There's a lot about "Wonka" that shouldn't work, but somehow it does.  Chalamet isn't much of a singer and all attempts to homage Gene Wilder's performance fall flat.  Nonetheless, he's got the right wholesome energy and the right earnest delivery to sell this version of the character.  The story shamelessly relies on references to the '71 "Willy Wonka" musical for big emotional moments, including two of the familiar songs, and appearances by an Oompa Loompa named Lofty (Hugh Grant).  However, the writing is very good about setting up these elements properly, and doesn't overuse them.  Neil Hannon's songs aren't as catchy as the Bricusse and Newly ones from the original, but they're good enough.  The humor is aimed at kids and very silly, but having so many sterling British comics and actors in the supporting cast, fully committed to the silliness, leads to great results.  Olivia Colman and Paterson Joseph playing typically nasty Dahl villains is delicious.  

I've tried to play it cool here, but the truth is that I loved the movie.  Paul King's colorful, beautifully orchestrated frames show a thoughtfulness and attention to detail that sparks so much joy.  The running jokes about escaped flamingoes and lovelorn security guards would have been cut for time in another movie, but not this one.  It's hard to imagine that somebody poured this much sincere passion and creativity into a "Willy Wonka" prequel, but that's exactly what Paul King has done.  Another movie featuring Willy Wonka was going to be made one way or another, because that's how Hollywood works these days, but "Wonka" feels like the best possible take on the idea.  It's homaging Dahl but doing it's own thing, puts on a full throated musical, and is totally unafraid of being an uncynical children's fantasy movie.  I was won over by the end of the first scene.

"Wonka" will not be for everyone.  There will be viewers who find it too twee and too childish, viewers who can't stand musicals, and viewers who won't be able to put aside memories of Wilder or Depp or the original Dahl novel, and I totally understand.    However, for me it's a relief that this kind of movie is still being made, still able to connect with audiences, and still making money.  I'm not saying I want more "Wonka" movies, but if Paul King wants to make more prequels, he should go for it. 

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"Six" Rocks

It's been roughly a decade since the last time I wrote about a musical on this blog, but this feels like a special occasion.  Seeing the touring version of "Six" was my first time back in a live theater space since before the pandemic.  I purposely didn't listen to any of the songs and didn't look up any information about the show beforehand so I could go in fresh.  All I knew was that "Six" was about the six wives of Henry VIII, and the rock star-inspired costuming was gorgeous.

Catherine of Aragon (Khaila Wilcoxon), Anne Boleyn (Storm Lever), Jane Seymor (Jasmine Forsberg), Anna of Cleves (Olivia Donalson), Katherine Howard (Didi Romero), and Catherine Parr (Gabrielle Carillo) relay their sad histories through song, arguing over who had it worst.  Was it Catherine of Aragon, the rudely divorced first wife, who was married to Henry far longer than any of the others?  Was it the famous Anne Boleyn, unable to produce an heir and beheaded on trumped up charges of infidelity?  Was it Anne of Cleves, who was chosen based on her portrait, and dumped when Henry thought she didn't match the profile pic?    

What immediately struck me about "Six" was its simplicity.  The rock concert reimagining of history - or "histo-remix" - takes place on a minimalist set with six performers playing the queens, and four musicians, dubbed the "ladies in waiting."  After a high energy opening number, each queen gets a biographical solo, there's a brief comic interlude, and then a grand finale.  Nine songs and an intermission add up to roughly eighty minutes.  I could definitely see the origins of "Six" as a student production, put together by creators Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss when they were attending Cambridge University.  "Six" follows the lead of "Hamilton," using modern musical influences to invigorate its portrayals of the six queens.  Each of them is patterned off of the personas of specific pop stars.   Jane Seymour belts her power ballad like Adele, while Katherine Howard, the youngest queen, is reminiscent of teen sensations Britney Spears and Ariana Grande.

By giving the queens the larger-than-life personalities and modern quirks of contemporary singers, they're immediately very easy to root for and sympathize with.  My favorites were Donalson as a vivacious Anne of Cleves, gleefully showing off her wealth and other assets, and Didi Romero as the flirty Katherine Howard, whose rumored promiscuity points to a much darker truth.  As a group, the six queens behave like a pack of rivals - constantly sniping at each other and undercutting each other.  They're quick with witty barbs, full of winking historical references for the academics in the audience, and online dating terminology and chatspeak for the youngsters.  The contest for the worst sob story that serves as the loose framework for the show is probably the weakest part of "Six."  It's inevitable that the queens will find empowerment and support through each other, and join forces to become a rock supergroup in the finale.  Then again, this is the kind of show that demands a happy ending, and the only happy ending these ladies are going to get is through a contrived fantasy scenario.  

"Six" has an admirable revisionist impulse, keen to rewrite the popular image of Henry's exes.  It definitely succeeds in bringing more attention to the less famous wives like Howard and Parr, but there's so little time for each character that some of the queens get seriously shortchanged.  Good luck following what happens to Anne Boleyn if you aren't already familiar with the events of her life.  However, the songs are so catchy and the performers are so personable that I suspect it's inevitable that viewers will want to know more, and seek out more information on their own.  

I'm not the best person to comment much about the music, but the rhyme schemes for the lyrics are clever, and several of the tunes are serious earworms.  The density of the wordplay demands multiple replays - it's not nearly at the level of Lin Manuel Miranda's work, but the creators learned the right lessons from him.  Despite the heaviness of the subject matter, full of death, infidelity, and bad marriages, "Six" is very light on its feet, very funny at times, and ferociously entertaining.  I'm glad I braved the theater for it, and would absolutely go again, the next time it's in town.  

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Reconsidering "Elvis"

Baz Luhrmann's "Elvis" biopic isn't really about Elvis Presley (Austin Butler) as a musician or as an entertainer.  It's about Elvis as a more mythic figure, as seen through the eyes of his longtime manager, Col. Tom Parker (Tom Hanks).  This Elvis is an embodiment of the American dream as it existed in the 1950s, a poor white singer who rose to superstardom by singing African-American music, and breaking the rules of the entertainment industry, before spiraling in his later years to a tragic early death.  Parker is positioned as the villain of the piece, the evil, greedy Svengali behind the scenes who ended up killing his golden goose.  Baz, as reliable a showman as ever, relays the story through 159 minutes packed with music, melodrama, and the best spectacle money can buy.  Some of it's laughable.  Some of it's brilliant, and the whole thing is a lot of fun to watch.

I admit I know very little about Elvis, except for the omnipresent pop culture figure he became in the '80s and '90s: a pompadoured, jump-suited, overweight crooner who was the frequent subject of supermarket tabloid conspiracy stories.  There were so many depictions of him secretly alive, it never really sunk in that he'd died young, at forty-two, and his career only spanned about twenty years, from 1956 to 1977.  Of course, those were turbulent and memorable years, and the film benefits from gleefully plowing through a ton of history at a breakneck pace.  Luhrmann's depiction of Elvis is very idealized, and very informed by present day mores.  Elvis's popularity is attributed squarely to his willingness to ignore the color line, and play black music and dance provocatively in an era when both were taboo.  He's shown taking influences from black Beale Street musicians, including Big Mama Thornton, and palling around with  B.B. King.  When Martin Luther King Jr. is assassinated, it affects Elvis deeply.   

Because the film focuses so much on the crimes of Colonel Parker, Elvis is put in the role of unwitting victim, especially in the final third of the movie.  Not only does he suffer years of financial abuse and manipulation, but all of Elvis's considerable personal and professional problems now stem mainly from his inability to get out from under the Colonel's thumb.  It certainly makes Elvis more sympathetic, but the filmmakers are clearly playing fast and loose with history.  Priscilla (Olivia DeJonge) and the rest of the Presley clan often feel like bystanders.  I can't bring myself to care much, however, because Baz and company are clearly not interested in presenting a standard Elvis biopic.  Everything here is streamlined, heightened, and exaggerated all out of proportion, from the very subjective, very unreliable POV of the Colonel.   They are printing the legend with no apologies, while at the same time trying to convey more cautionary messages about America and the entertainment industry and the illusory nature of fame.   

And if you can accept these constructs, it's easier to swallow the version of Elvis that we're presented with.  Austin Butler's Elvis is a starry eyed young rebel, willing to take a stand against the establishment, and loves his family and his fans best of all.  His faults are bluntly acknowledged, but quickly elided over.  Instead we get scene after scene of pulse-pounding musical performances.  Butler is given every opportunity to blow our socks off, and he doesn't waste them.  I'm sure we'll be seeing plenty more of him after this.  Tom Hanks as Colonel Parker, on the other hand, is cartoonishly bizarre, with a terrible accent and an alarming amount of facial prosthetics.  I kept thinking I'd get used to them at some point, but two and a half hours later, no such luck.  It's the worst performance I've ever seen Hanks give, and miraculously it makes absolutely no difference to how well the rest of the movie works.

As with all Luhrmann films, the art direction is absolutely divine, and nothing feels kitschy in the least - not even Las Vegas in the 1970s.  Contemporary artists are brought in to provide covers for some Elvis hits, with mixed results, but Austin Butler reportedly did all of his own singing, and is frequently mesmerizing onscreen.  I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if the film's popularity turns out to be from Elvis Presley's old fanbase coming out of the woodwork to see a little of the old magic resurrected.

As for me, I think I have a better sense of Elvis's appeal, and got a glimpse of the way people saw him in the '50s and '60s, at the height of his career.  And it convinced me to join his crowd of admirers, just for a little while.  I honestly don't care much for his music, but it's impossible to deny he was one of the greats. 

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It's Time For "The Inside Outtakes"

Bo Burnham recently released "The Inside Outtakes," nearly an hour of material consisting of behind the scenes footage, early versions of songs and sketches, and unused segments from his Netflix special "Inside."  There's also an accompanying album with a few extra songs that never made it to the filming stage.  It's been a year since the release of "Inside," a piece of media that's been one of the few to really capture the pandemic zeitgeist.  I spent a good chunk of 2021 obsessed with it, and became hyperfixated on Bo Burnham for a few months as a result.

Part of what fueled my reaction is that Burnham did zero press for "Inside," and almost no media appearances, even as the special racked up widespread acclaim, a pile of critical kudos, three Emmy wins and a Grammy.  While his audience was busy analyzing every frame of "Inside," trying to decode the themes and figure out how he'd managed to DIY the whole thing by himself during lockdown, Burnham offered zero answers.  We got a few announcements related to merchandise and the brief "Inside" theatrical run last summer, but that was about it.  

"Outtakes" is fascinating because it offers some indirect answers.  How did Burnham make "Inside" so perfect?  Everything we see in "Outtakes" points to a monumental amount of work.  We see five different iterations of the opening number, "Content," for instance, using different lighting effects.  All five versions are put onscreen simultaneously and synced together, so we can appreciate the differences, and see how the initial idea progressed to the finished product.  Another screen shows us 35 different takes of "Welcome to the Internet," each one blinking out of existence when Burnham hits a snag, until only the final, familiar one remains.     

The highlights, however, are the sketches and songs that were cut from "Inside."  It's apparent why some of them didn't make the cut - "Joe Biden" invokes distracting politics, and "Five Years" breaks the illusion that Burnham's character is operating in isolation.  "Chicken," doesn't quite fit the apocalyptic mood.  I like "The Future," which had its melody repurposed for "Problematic," and its visuals reworked for "All Eyes on Me."   Other segments, however, were probably only excised for time.  My favorite things in "Outtakes" are the Zoom interview that Burnham conducts with multiple versions of himself, and a podcast spoof that skewers thin-skinned comedians complaining about cancel culture.  Only slightly less effective are a nihilistic peanut butter sandwich making tutorial, a MCU-style announcement of an "Inside Cinematic Universe," and an absurdist advertisement for jeans.       

I've heard some chatter that "Outtakes" is as good as "Inside," which I don't agree with.  "Outtakes" has a lot of good things in it, but it's made up of far more scattered pieces, and derives most of its poignancy from being a companion piece to "Inside."  The narrative of showing the ups and downs of the creative process is rudimentary at best.  However, "Outtakes" is very much its own piece of media, with its own, slightly different style and a more metatextual point of view.  Another interesting twist is that Burnham clearly intended for "Outtakes" to be a Youtube release, with fake midroll ads, fake "skip ads" buttons, and a bevy of humorous pop ups to take advantage of the format.  

This is also a piece of media that's clearly aimed at Burnham's most ardent fans, the viewers who will pause the video to try and read a whiteboard in the background of a shot, or will spot the hidden frame from one of Burnham's old Youtube videos in the fiery alternate ending.  If you haven't already seen "Inside," I don't see the point in sifting through Burnham's discarded ideas - though some segments work decently on their own.   This is all the extras you'd expect to find on an "Inside" home media release, edited together and tweaked to make fun of its own existence, but it's still just the extras.

I am happy to report a sense of relief at realizing that my hyperfixation on Bo Burnham has well and truly passed.  After finishing "Outtakes," I had no real urge to rewatch it, to read reviews, or to find out what other people thought of it.  I'm delighted that it exists, and that Burnham continues to find new ways to surprise and delight us, but I'm also more than ready for him to move on to the next project.

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