"Tuesday," and "The Young Woman and the Sea"

A couple more smaller titles today.

"Tuesday" is one of the odder fantasy films I've seen recently.  It's a sort of existential fable on the nature of life and death, where death is a supernatural talking parrot.  Written and directed by Daina O Pusic, the film is about a terminally ill young woman named Tuesday (Lola Petticrew), whose mother Zora (Julia Louis-Dreyfuss) has been hiding the extent of her own troubles to take care of her.  One day Death (Arinze Kene) arrives for Tuesday in the form of a parrot, who can say a few words and change size, depending on the needs of the situation.  Tuesday is ready to accept her death, but her mother absolutely is not.

I like the portrayal of Death in this movie, as this wild animal that doesn't have a great relationship with humanity after eons of being hated and despised for doing its job, but can be befriended and understood by those who take the trouble.  It doesn't sound like a human being when it talks, but like this elemental force of nature trying to mimic human speech.  The character animation is sometimes beautiful and sometimes menacing and borderline horrific.  I don't think that the allegory entirely works, but it's an interesting way for the filmmakers to engage with the thorny parts of their material, in more cinematic terms.  

I wish that the underlying mother-daughter story between Zora and Tuesday had been more fleshed out.  The actresses are both very committed, and Louis-Dreyfuss in particular is watchable in just about anything.  However, the plotting seemed rushed, and in the end I felt as though I hadn't gotten enough time with them and their relationship - especially at the end.  I wonder if it was a matter of the movie trying to do too much - there's a whole section of the film where Zora learns the value of Death, and Tuesday gets a little lost in the shuffle.  There are a lot of unanswered questions, like why Tuesday and Zora have completely different accents, and how Zora let her life fall apart, which I would have liked to see addressed, or at least placed in a better context.  "Tuesday" deserves a lot of credit for its ambitions, but the follow-through isn't quite there.         

On to "The Young Woman and the Sea," which is a very Disney sports movie.  I don't mean that in a bad way - Disney has built up a solid reputation for inspirational family films, and "The Young Woman and the Sea" feels like a throwback to nostalgic sports dramas like "Seabiscuit" and "The Natural" that don't come along very often anymore.  This is the movie it feels like "The Boys in the Boat" was trying to be last year, but it didn't have a story nearly as good.  Daisy Ridley stars as Trudy Ederle, the first woman to swim the English Channel in 1925.  Directed by Joachim Ronning, who made the Norwegian "Kon Tiki" movie, and produced by Jerry Bruckheimer and his outfit, "Young Woman" is expertly engineered to be a crowd pleaser, and I'm honestly a little surprised that its release has been so under the radar.  

This is the best performance I've seen from Daisy Ridley, playing Trudy as an underdog among underdogs.  She's sickly as a child due to measles, and is initially prevented from swimming at all by her protective father (Kim Bodnia) and mother (Jeanette Hain).  Eventually Trudy's stubbornness gets her in the water, and she and her sister Meg (Tilda Cogham-Hervey) are allowed to train with the Women's Swimming Association under Charlotte Epstein (Sian Cliffords), Trudy's first coach.  Other coaches Trudy will have on her path to victory include the combative Jabez Wolffe (Christopher Eccleston) and the unorthodox Bill Burgess (Stephen Graham).   

The script by Jeff Nathanson lays on Trudy's constant battle against expectations pretty thick.  Female swimmers were a rarity in the era, and not taken seriously, but the callousness of the sporting establishment often strains credulity.  However, once Trudy identifies the Channel as her goal, the movie finds its groove.  The dramatization of the historic swim couldn't be better, and all the little subplots with her family and coaches pay off in a satisfying way.  There's absolutely nothing new or innovative going on here, and if you're at all familiar with these kinds of films, you'll be able to predict every twist and turn and dramatic pause in the dialogue.  However, sometimes all you want is an old-fashioned sports hero story, and I haven't seen one this good in a long time.      

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Confessions of a Fujoshi

A fujoshi, literally a "rotten woman," is a term for a female fan of Japanese media that features gay relationships.  Initially this term was a pejorative, but has been reappropriated over time.  Still, there's been a prevailing attitude that being a fujoshi is inherently problematic because the consumption of gay media in Japan is seen as fetishizing gay men and gay relationships.  It's pretty clear why.  The vast majority of the "boys love "manga that I came across as an otaku in the early 2000s were created by women, and intended for consumption by women.  I soon realized that they contained nothing remotely representative of actual queer experiences.  Instead, these stories were projections and fantasies that usually involved a lot of  bad stereotypes and wildly regressive, inaccurate ideas about homosexuality.  Manga created by and for gay audiences do exist, but have always been much less visible.  The Japanese LGBT community has only made real legal and social gains in the last decade, and this is just starting to impact the culture.   

I'm not going to get into the myriad reasons for why the fujoshi audience exists, which is its own separate post, but this is definitely not just a Japanese phenomenon.  Women's preferences affect the kind of gay-themed media that gets produced just about everywhere, because they make up a big segment of its audience - especially when it comes to gay romances.  When "Brokeback Mountain" was released in 2005, the audience initially skewed male the first week, but skewed female for the rest of its run.  More than one publication at the time called the movie out for being a melodramatic weepie that was aimed at women.  And it should be pointed out that "Brokeback Mountain" was based on a piece of fiction written by a woman, which isn't a remotely rare occurrence.  "Love, Simon," "Heartstopper," and "Red, White, and Royal Blue" were all written by female or nonbinary authors.  In the U.S. there's also been plenty of gay media created by gay men in the last twenty years, including "Call Me By Your Name," "Moonlight," "Glee," "Pose," and "Schitt's Creek."  Queer representation has only made the progress it has in American media because of these titles and others breaking into the mainstream and setting expectations.  

      

Still, we're in this uncomfortable reality where media about gay men often needs the straight female audience to be financially viable.  The biggest problem with being a woman who enjoys gay romance really has nothing to do with liking gay romance, but rather being the current default target audience for gay romance.  As a result, we get a lot more cute romances like "Heartstopper," and not so many of the more well-informed and nuanced portrayals of the gay experience like "Bros" or "Uncoupled."  And over the past few years as I've happily enjoyed "Interview With the Vampire," "Dead Boy Detectives," and the new revamp of "Doctor Who," I can't shake the feeling that I'm being pandered to when I shouldn't be.  As more and more media featuring gay relationships are being created, I can definitely tell the difference between the movies and shows that are trying to portray gay people respectfully, and the ones that feel like they only exist so we can watch two hot guys make out.  And I admit that I do enjoy watching two hot guys make out.  However, these days it's not without a growing sense of guilt and wondering if the collateral damage of the female gaze to the LGBT+ community is worth it. 

I know what it's like to be fetishized, and it's not a good feeling.  So, I do my best to search out the smaller, more personal stories like "God's Own Country" and "Love is Strange."  I pay attention to who is working behind the camera.  And I try to be mindful of boosting the gay representation that is actually good, genuine, respectful representation versus somebody's fantasy of what representation is.  I don't think I technically count as a fujoshi anymore because it's been a long time since I've been around Japanese media fandom.  However, I still feel like one from time to time, especially when I'm watching a show with gay characters who are following the tropes of heterosexual romance a little too closely.       

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"Furiosa" Arrives

The best thing that I can say about "Furiosa," which the marketing people insist on calling "Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga," is that it doesn't feel so much like a prequel to "Mad Max: Fury Road" as much as the missing first two acts to a larger story that encompasses them both.  This is the first "Mad Max" film that breaks from the "Man With No Name" template to tell the origin story of Furiosa (Alyla Browne as a child, Anya Taylor-Joy as an adult), the fierce Imperator who became Max's ally in "Fury Road."  Her history is relayed in five chapters, from her initial capture as a child from her hidden oasis home, to her imprisonment under the Biker Horde leader Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), to her first encounters with the warlord Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme) and his best driver, Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke).

We're thrust back into the motor-oil drenched, post-apocalyptic Wasteland, where an endless variety of mutated freaks, motorized menaces, and beefy dudes on epic power trips hold sway.  Fans of "Fury Road" will be happy to find many familiar faces, and several action scenes that rival anything that George Miller has ever dreamed up.  The "Stowaway" chapter has what may be the best road chase in the entire franchise, and there's a later sniper sequence that escalates to glorious proportions.  However, the experience is fundamentally different from "Fury Road," because "Furiosa" is a very different kind of story than any of the other "Mad Max" films.  This is a tale of revenge and self-discovery that spans many years.  The action scenes are much more intermittent, and the story of Furiosa is harrowing stuff, with a lot of upsetting material.  The first hour of the film revolves around the child Furiosa being thrown into more and more dangerous situations, and witnessing very R-rated atrocities.  This is not exactly a crowd-pleaser, and I'm not surprised that it wasn't the Memorial Day box office winner the studio was hoping for.  

However, for those viewers who enjoy their post-apocalyptic media, like "The Last of Us" or "Fallout," George Miller's "Mad Max" is one of the original pillars of the genre, and delivers here like nothing else.  We learn more about the Wasteland and the workings of various gangs continually fighting for dominance.  The stylized language and allusions to antiquity help to give the story an epic quality, with the sweeping cinematography and larger-than-life performances to match.  The film charts the rise of Furiosa at the same time it charts the downfall of Dementus, a cheerfully insane fellow who decides to go up against Immortan Joe in several clashes over many years.  He's the most prominent new addition to this universe, and Chris Hemsworth keeps him oddly likable in spite of all the terrible things that he does.  Hemsworth is trying a little too hard to be memorable, but which works for his character anyway.  Tom Burke is more effortlessly charismatic as Praetorian Jack - a sort of proto-Mad Max figure who has an instantly memorable screen presence.  

There are several actors of a similar quality in "Furiosa," playing characters who have ridiculous names or no names at all, but command your attention nonetheless.  I want to point out Carlee Fraser as Furiosa's mother, Josh Helman and Nathan Jones as Immortan Joe's sons, and John Howard (not the former Prime Minister of Australia) as the People Eater.  And of course, there's Furiosa herself.  Anya Taylor-Joy and Alyla Browne don't have many lines between them, but they're so compelling to watch as they try to navigate and survive this insane desert nightmare world.  Taylor-Joy has several scenes where all you can really see of her is her huge eyes, and she does so much with them, it's fantastic.  And Furiosa does get a full, rich character arc here, where she has to consider her path forward, which of her many male role models she wants to take after, and setting up her appearance in "Fury Road," which it's almost impossible not to want to watch immediately after "Furiosa."     

  

I'm sad that we're probably not going to get the next planned "Mad Max" film "The Wasteland," but getting "Furiosa" as such an uncompromised vision was so unlikely that I'm not inclined to be too sore about it. 

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"Halt and Catch Fire," Year Two and Three

Spoilers ahead

I'm writing about the second and third seasons of "Halt and Catch Fire" together because they cover the whole arc of Donna and Cameron's partnership, and their time together at Mutiny.  This pair become the most prominent characters in the show as they see their company through thick and thin, from building their initial subscriber base with a ragtag group of programmers, to their growth and expansion in Silicon Valley.  I initially thought that each season of "Halt and Catch Fire" was going to focus on a different product or technological advancement.  Instead, we see characters tackle multiple ideas and businesses, covering a wide gamut of the tech sector.

The Mutiny storylines drive these seasons, but that doesn't mean that Gordon and Joe don't get their share of screentime.  Joe spends season two with a new romantic partner, Sara Wheeler (Aleksa Palladino), who just happens to have an industrialist father (James Cromwell) that Joe inevitably ends up in business with.  He also can't seem to stay out of Cameron and Gordon's lives, occasionally dropping into their storylines like a Mephistophelean devil figure to make their lives more complicated.  Season three seems to see Joe turn a corner and find enlightenment, but it's hard to say for sure.  Gordon's story is more personal and less structured, seeing him adrift in his career and his marriage in season two as he confronts a major health scare, and mired in a mess of shifting loyalties in season three.  

However, what I've come to love the show for is Donna and Cameron.  They've both come a long way from season one.  Cameron's road to maturity is a very rocky one, and she's never good at playing with others, but seeing her fight for Mutiny - even when she's in the wrong -  is compelling.  Getting another love interest, Tom (Mark O'Brien) is good for her growth, even though Tom isn't much of a character.  I found Donna generally more sympathetic, but she's the one who crosses the line for the sake of her ambitions, and ends up regretting it.  I love how the partnership evolves as Donna becomes more invested in Mutiny, befriends a financier played by Annabeth Gish, and helps push the company in new directions.  The last few episodes of season three are the high point of the show so far, and the big dramatic, heartbreaking confrontation feels fully earned after two seasons of being set up.   

I like that these seasons slow down from the breakneck intensity of the first season, and are willing to dig deeper into the characters.  Some of my favorites are the hangout episodes, like the one where Gordon and Cameron spend a whole day playing "Super Mario Bros." and bonding.  And of course there's a laser tag episode, because the show's production team seems determined to recreate every nerdy nostalgic part of the '80s they can get away with.  Having the  Mutiny programmers around for easy comic relief also never gets old.  There are still some wild twists and turns afoot, and a lot of creative tinkering with the history of computing, but the characters are much more well-rounded and I've become fully invested in their fates.    

The only part of these seasons I'm not onboard with is nearly everything to do with Ryan Ray (Manish Dayal), a talented Mutiny programmer who falls under the sway of Joe in the third season.  Ryan is essentially a plot device, despite a good faith effort from the writers to show how his relationship with Joe progresses over multiple episodes.  A lot of the supporting roles like Tom and Sara feel similarly underwritten, but Ryan is so pivotal to the show and especially to Joe's development that his flatness feels particularly egregious.  Ryan's prophetic predictions about the internet are the lowest point of "Halt and Catch Fire" in more ways than one.

I admit that I've been binging the show, but I'm making myself take a break before the final stretch of the fourth season.  There are time skips ahead and I'm not ready to revisit the '90s in this universe quite yet.

    

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Getting Anxious With "Inside Out 2"

I watched "Inside Out 2" as a parent with young children in tow.  This helped me to appreciate the parts of the movie geared toward kids - the jokes about video game characters, the slapstick humor, and the dad-joke punnery.  However, I strongly suspect that the "Inside Out" movies are really made for parents and other grown ups who want to help navigate their charges through the minefield of growing up.  They introduce a way to talk about thorny emotional concepts through this lovely metaphor about our anthropomorphized feelings being in charge of our well-being.

It's been a year since the events of "Inside Out," and Riley Anderson (Kensington Tallman) is about to enter high school.  A promising hockey player, she's attending a summer hockey camp with members of the team she wants to join, including her idol Val (Lilimar).  However, this is also Riley's last chance to spend time with her junior high friends, who are going to a different school.  In Riley's head, her five primary emotions, Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Liza Lapira), and Fear (Tony Hale), are getting some new co-workers.  These include Envy (Ayo Edebiri), Embarrassment (Paul Walter Hauser), Ennui (Adele Exarchopoulos), and the emotion who quickly takes over everything, Anxiety (Maya Hawke).  

PIXAR sequels have had a mixed track record when it comes to finding new places for their stories to go.  "Inside Out 2" has the great idea of introducing Anxiety and seeing her wreak havoc during a stressful event in Riley's life.  I also like the new concept of the "Sense of Self," which gives Riley more of a voice and presence in her own mind.  However, most of the new emotions feel like they're just padding out the cast, and only useful for comic relief.  You couldn't easily cut Envy, who doesn't feel fully developed, and doesn't actually seem to correspond to any envious behavior.  Ennui and Embarrassment are funnier caricatures of teenage behavior, but still pretty one-note.  The structure of the film also is very close to the one in the first film, with Joy and the original emotions being ejected from the control room, and sent on a quest through the hinterlands of Riley's mind.  Joy has to learn essentially the same lesson about not repressing negative experiences, and not denying the more uncomfortable parts of yourself.

There are some sequences in "Inside Out 2" that are among the best things that PIXAR has ever done.  There's a depiction of a panic attack that is viscerally upsetting to watch, but handled with great care and framed in such a way that suggests that the filmmakers expected it to be used as a teaching or therapeutic tool in the future.  This isn't the kind of thing I see any of PIXAR's competitors doing, and it's a reminder that despite their recent box office troubles, the studio's standards remain very high.  If I were watching "Inside Out 2" without having seen the original, and I didn't know about the cast substitutions, the repetitive story beats, and the little continuity mismatches with the first film, it would have worked better for me.  However, this film worked better for my kids than the original, which gives me a lot to think about.

Despite Riley being a teenager, "Inside Out 2" is family viewing, and safe for much younger kids.  The  filmmakers largely steer clear of anything to do with hormones or romance, in stark contrast to more challenging movies about girls the same age like "Eighth Grade."  Even "Turning Red" was a much more well-rounded look at girls in the throes of puberty.  I think actual thirteen year-olds would still enjoy "Inside Out 2," and relate to Riley's experiences, but the references to "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" and the "1984" Apple Superbowl ad aren't really for them.  

However, if "Inside Out" turns into a longer series the way that "Toy Story" has," the filmmakers won't be able to ignore the more R-rated parts of growing up forever.  Since "Inside Out" is by far the biggest PIXAR hit of the 2020s, an "Inside Out 3" at this point is inevitable.

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At "The Last Stop in Yuma County"

What kind of film can you make with a budget of one million dollars? In the case of first time feature director Francis Galluppi, a very impressive one.  The biggest influence on this tiny indie neo-noir/exploitation movie is definitely the Coen brothers' early work like "Blood Simple," where most of the tension is wrung from ordinary people doing ordinary things, like handing someone a cup of coffee or unlocking the trunk of a car.  Despite a totally no-frills production, this crime thriller absolutely delivers where it counts.    

The story is a simple case of the characters all being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  A traveling salesman (Jim Cummings) stops at a filling station in remote Yuma County, Arizona, and is told by the cheerful attendant, Vernon (Faizon Love) that they're out of gas.  A fuel truck is due to arrive any moment, so the salesman reluctantly waits in the diner next door, with the nice waitress, Charlotte (Jocelin Donahue).  Unfortunately, two bank robbers, Travis (Nicholas Logan) and Beau (Richard Brake) arrive soon after.  With no gas, they're also forced to wait, so they take over the diner and prevent Charlotte from alerting her husband Charlie (Michael Abbott Jr.), the local sheriff, and his deputy Gavin (Connor Paolo).  More and more customers show up to the diner, including an elderly couple, a pair of young troublemakers, and a local rancher.  And inevitably, the situation explodes.

"Yuma County" takes place in the 1970s, and the film has fun recreating the look of old '70s crime movies like "Duel" and "Badlands," with some classic oldies on the soundtrack.  Everyone is dusty and haggard and wonderfully unpolished.  I love that it's impossible to predict each twist and turn, because the characters are larger than life, but don't act like characters.  They act like real people, who make impulsive decisions and stupid mistakes.  Being smart or being vicious aren't all that helpful, and everyone seems to have the most awful bad luck.  It's also a great cast - I only recognized Jim Cummings at first, but there are several veteran character actors here who make the most of limited screen time and almost nonexistent characterization.  I wanted more time with everyone, from the salesman to the two latecomers in the last act, who are onscreen for maybe three minutes.  This is a very rare movie this year that I could have watched for another hour or two, but it wisely doesn't outstay its welcome.

I also love the low budget feel of the production, which gives "Yuma County" a scroungy authenticity that is sorely missing in recent studio action films.  There's such an exactness to the narrative that makes it easy to become immersed in this little universe, composed of a few buildings in the middle of nowhere.  It's not quite a one-location movie, as I've seen described in other places, but it's close.  And it's such a joy to discover that "Yuma County" has better thrills and chills than most of the blockbusters released in theaters over the summer.  The last scene in particular is glorious - it evokes such great memories of similar ridiculous stunts from the pre-CGI age - and if it wasn't done practically, don't tell me.  I never want to find out otherwise.

"Yuma County" hasn't been widely seen, understandably, but Francis Galluppi is quickly moving on to bigger things.  He has been hired to direct an "Evil Dead" movie by old Coens collaborator Sam Raimi, and I couldn't be happier for him or more enthusiastic about seeing the results.

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"Doctor Who, Year One" (Again)

It doesn't feel like nineteen years since the 2005 revival of "Doctor Who," and then again "Doctor Who" hasn't really felt so much like "Doctor Who" in a long while.  I've somehow kept up with all fourteen series so far, and found myself right back where I started this season, with Russel T. Davies as showrunner, and a brand new Doctor (Ncuti Gatwa) unlike any that we've seen before.  

I don't think I've ever latched on to any Doctor so fast as the Fifteenth.  Gatwa is so full of energy and emotion and unbridled enthusiasm for the part.  In the face of his charisma, you instantly forget that he's the first non-Caucasian doctor (not counting Jo Martin), the first explicitly non-heterosexual doctor (not counting all the flirting with Captain Jack), and the first without a signature outfit - though that could change.   Millie Gibson as his companion Ruby Sunday is very charming, and I'm sad that we're going to lose her after only one series - though I'm sure we haven't seen the last of her.  Not many companions get a story arc as well-considered and neatly wrapped up as this one, and I have no complaints.

Thanks to the involvement of Disney+, which now has the international broadcast rights to new "Doctor Who" episodes, the program has never looked better.  However, the real difference is having Davies back, writing most of the scripts this season.  Former showrunner Steven Moffat, responsible for some of the best "Doctor Who" installments ever, also pitches in an episode, while Kate Herron and Briony Redman handle a "Bridgeron" parody/meta romance.  The quality has its ups and downs, which was always the case with the Davies-helmed episodes, but there are some very strong  hours once everyone's settled in.  Highlights include "Dot and Bubble," which is dark science-fiction in the vein of "Black Mirror," "73 Yards," which sends Ruby on an alternate timeline solo adventure, and "Rogue," which sees the Doctor romance another time traveler played by Jonathan Groff.  The big series-long arc didn't pay off very well, which is typical.

I found myself not quite able to embrace the show fully because I was never able to shake the feeling that so much of this season felt recycled from earlier ones, especially the David Tennat era.  I found myself comparing "Rogue" to "The Girl in the Fireplace," thriller "Boom" to "Silence in the Library," and "73 Yards" to "Turn Left."  The new episodes were all executed beautifully and the new characters never felt like they were shoehorned into the plots, but I was a little disappointed that the better episodes were often variations on concepts I'd seen before.  Having a deep bench of good guest stars like Jinx Monsoon, Aneurin Barnard, and Callie Cook helped a lot, and I'm very relieved that the series' sillier first two episodes didn't signal that "Doctor Who" was going for a younger audience now that Disney was involved.  Several of the new episodes are as intense and upsetting as anything that "Doctor Who" has ever dreamed up.  

As a longtime "Who" fan, I'm eager to see the new versions of The Master and the Daleks and all the usual "Doctor Who" standbys.  I understand why they weren't in the first season, and the big callback to Classic "Who" turned out to be something else.  I'll definitely stick around for next season, when Verada Sethu is set to become the next companion, maybe as soon as the Christmas special.     

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