Let's check in on some recent horror movies.
The newest version of "The Invisible Man" is a low budget Blumhouse thriller written and directed by Leigh Whannell. It takes the novel approach of being reframed as a domestic violence story, told through the eyes of its heroine, Cecilia Kass (Elizabeth Moss). In the opening sequence, we watch Cecilia escape from the fortress-like house of her controlling boyfriend Adrian (Oliver Jackson-Cohen). She slowly recovers from the ordeal with the support of her sister Emily (Harriet Dyer), and hides out in the home of Emily's ex-husband, James (Aldis Hodge), where he lives with his teenage daughter Sydney (Storm Reid). Adrian is reported to have killed himself, but Cecilia has her doubts, especially when she starts experiencing unexplained accidents and disruptions in her life.
"The Invisible Man" slots in nicely with the recent trend of horror films that are social allegories. Here, we have a domestic abuse story with a uniquely empowered abuser, constantly undercutting and isolating his victim, and making her feel like she's going crazy. And it works wonderfully, because even though the mechanisms that create the monster are pure fantasy, the underlying abuser/victim dynamics and psychological mind games being deployed ring absolutely true to life. Adrian is the psycho stalker ex of every woman's nightmares, who seems unstoppable. The film is a great showcase for Elizabeth Moss, playing a traumatized woman on the edge who learns what she's capable of to ensure her own survival. She's able to make the most ludicrous situations feel emotionally real and immediate.
And that's important because "The Invisible Man" is built around old fashioned thrills and suspense instead of expensive CGI visuals. Whannell does a great job of using the camera to suggest where his invisible man is, letting the camera drift to suspicious empty parts of the frame, or have shots linger after the primary actors have departed, as if to catch the reaction shot of someone who should be standing there. The action scenes and the traditional "Invisible Man" effects sequences are handled well, but kept fairly brief. This is for the best, because floating guns and knives always end up looking awfully silly the longer they're onscreen, and Elizabeth Moss is more than capable of generating plenty of terror and paranoia by herself. I don't think this is the best version of "The Invisible Man," but it's a good one, and a very fitting one for 2020.
Now, on to the Spanish language film, "The Platform," recently released by Netflix. This is a much more brutal and much more blunt cinematic allegory, representing the whole of human society with a very tall tower called "The Hole." Each numbered level holds two people, and food is delivered once a day via a large platform that is lowered through the shaft that runs the length of the building from the top to the bottom. However, because the people on the top levels gorge themselves, the people on the lower levels go without - and no one knows how many levels there are. Our protagonist, a man named Goreng (Iván Massagué), wakes up on level 48, and is thrust into this brutal system of horrific inequality with only a copy of "Don Quixote" to aid in his survival. Other characters include Goreng's roommate Trimagasi (Zorion Eguileor), an idealist named Imoguiri (Antonia San Juan), an escape-fixated man named Baharat (Emilio Buale Coka), and a violent woman named Miharu (Alexandra Masangkay) who is searching for a lost child.
Though "The Platform" shares similar themes with movies like "Snowpiercer" and "High Rise," its closest cinematic relative is Vicenzo Natali's "Cube." From the industrial, bare bones sets, to the grotesque savagery of the Hole's inhabitants, to the implacable mechanical precision of the Hole's operation, "The Platform" portrays an inescapable capitalist nightmare system full of death and madness. It's also a wonderfully disgusting film - lots of gore, splatter, and people messily consuming massive amounts of food. The characters are better defined than the characters in "Cube," however, with each person representing different moral philosophies or attitudes toward the social order instead of just different social groups. I like that the film actively tries to grapple with big ideas, and finds room for moments of grisly black humor. The standout performance is that of Eguileor as Trimagasi, who cheerfully rationalizes grim atrocities.
The metaphor of the Hole ends up being much more interesting than the story that takes place in it, and the ending is one of those contrived, ambiguous resolutions that feel a bit like the filmmakers ran out of time or money. I like the earlier parts of the film, where Goreng is gradually learning about his circumstances and figuring out how the system works, considerably more than the action-oriented back half where he tries to overthrow it. However, the film is consistently clever, does an impressive amount with limited resources, and leaves plenty for viewers to chew over.
---
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Thursday, June 25, 2020
I Guess I Gotta Talk About the Snyder Cut
Seriously, I would have been happy to never have to think about the "Justice League" movie ever again. However, in order to beef up their offerings, HBO Go has commissioned a new version of the "Justice League" movie, to be overseen by Zack Snyder. Snyder, if you remember, left the directing chair in order to deal with a terrible family tragedy while "Justice League" was in production, and Warners turned the film over to Joss Whedon, who obviously had very different ideas of what to do with the material. The movie came out, was widely dismissed, and the DC Cinematic Universe moved on to better things.
However, a hypothetical secret Snyder cut of "Justice League" has turned into a running joke and hashtag, but the more ardent DC fans have latched on to the idea. Some have been campaigning quite seriously for #ReleasetheSnyderCut to happen. However, a Snyder cut doesn't actually exist because Snyder left the film before any post-production or special effects could be completed. There's a rough three-and-a-half-hour assembly of footage, but that's about it. Usually, when we're talking about directors' cuts of films, we're talking about final edits of completed films - changes might include a couple of restored scenes, some technical fixes, and maybe a re-edited sequence or two. It's only the very rare project, like Steven Spielberg being asked to show the inside of the UFO mothership for a "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" special edition, or Richard Donner's extensively altered "Superman II," where you have new footage created specifically for a different cut.
So to say that it was shocking when the HBO Go honchos announced that the Snyder Cut was going to premiere next year as an HBO Go exclusive, was putting it mildly. This is, frankly, something unprecedented. Warners Bros. are going to be spending millions for Snyder to make that grandiose four hour epic he originally envisioned, meaning at least an hour of new scenes and tons of expensive effects work. In addition, we'll likely see the finished product released in several installments, more like a miniseries event. There's already a very quick teaser trailer online that's essentially three shots of unused "Justice League" footage and some ominous music, segueing into clips of the Zoom watch party where the official Snyder Cut announcement was made by Snyder and Henry Cavill.
While some fans are clearly happy with this turn of events, I'm not looking forward to it. When left entirely to his own devices, Zack Snyder gave us two different, terrible cuts of "Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice," one of the most god awful movies I've ever seen, and the clear low point of the DC franchise to date. Snyder's not a bad filmmaker, but an awful choice for this material from day one. Say what you will about Joss Whedon, but at least he turned in a version of "Justice League" that was narratively coherent and had a few bright spots, like Aquaman's encounter with Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth. I'd actually be okay with a more limited kind of director's cut, maybe fixing Henry Cavill's CGI upper lip, or adding some smaller scenes to clear up parts of the chaotic storyline.
What really bothers me is that I've had a hard time with the recent DC film franchise, and I place a lot of the blame on Zack Snyder's directorial choices. I feel that the movies have been progressively getting better since "Justice League," without his influence, even if they haven't been the biggest hits. "Aquaman," "Shazam!" "Joker," and "Birds of Prey" have all managed to distinguish themselves, largely by moving away from Snyder's morose, desaturated style and avoiding any ongoing storylines that might tie them too closely to the other DC movies. Dragging Snyder back into the spotlight after all this feels an awful lot like backsliding into bad habits.
The pandering to the less savory parts of the fanbase is also a problem. There have been plenty of pieces written already about the dangers of emboldening fans by giving into bullying tactics, and apparently some of the #ReleasetheSnyderCut proponents are pretty toxic. However, this doesn't strike me as Warners giving in so much as taking advantage of whatever goodwill they can still squeeze out of the Snyder fans. And if the new version of "Justice League" makes those fans so happy, why should we rain on their parade?
Still, I look at that teaser trailer, and all I feel is depressed and disappointed all over again.
---
However, a hypothetical secret Snyder cut of "Justice League" has turned into a running joke and hashtag, but the more ardent DC fans have latched on to the idea. Some have been campaigning quite seriously for #ReleasetheSnyderCut to happen. However, a Snyder cut doesn't actually exist because Snyder left the film before any post-production or special effects could be completed. There's a rough three-and-a-half-hour assembly of footage, but that's about it. Usually, when we're talking about directors' cuts of films, we're talking about final edits of completed films - changes might include a couple of restored scenes, some technical fixes, and maybe a re-edited sequence or two. It's only the very rare project, like Steven Spielberg being asked to show the inside of the UFO mothership for a "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" special edition, or Richard Donner's extensively altered "Superman II," where you have new footage created specifically for a different cut.
So to say that it was shocking when the HBO Go honchos announced that the Snyder Cut was going to premiere next year as an HBO Go exclusive, was putting it mildly. This is, frankly, something unprecedented. Warners Bros. are going to be spending millions for Snyder to make that grandiose four hour epic he originally envisioned, meaning at least an hour of new scenes and tons of expensive effects work. In addition, we'll likely see the finished product released in several installments, more like a miniseries event. There's already a very quick teaser trailer online that's essentially three shots of unused "Justice League" footage and some ominous music, segueing into clips of the Zoom watch party where the official Snyder Cut announcement was made by Snyder and Henry Cavill.
While some fans are clearly happy with this turn of events, I'm not looking forward to it. When left entirely to his own devices, Zack Snyder gave us two different, terrible cuts of "Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice," one of the most god awful movies I've ever seen, and the clear low point of the DC franchise to date. Snyder's not a bad filmmaker, but an awful choice for this material from day one. Say what you will about Joss Whedon, but at least he turned in a version of "Justice League" that was narratively coherent and had a few bright spots, like Aquaman's encounter with Wonder Woman's Lasso of Truth. I'd actually be okay with a more limited kind of director's cut, maybe fixing Henry Cavill's CGI upper lip, or adding some smaller scenes to clear up parts of the chaotic storyline.
What really bothers me is that I've had a hard time with the recent DC film franchise, and I place a lot of the blame on Zack Snyder's directorial choices. I feel that the movies have been progressively getting better since "Justice League," without his influence, even if they haven't been the biggest hits. "Aquaman," "Shazam!" "Joker," and "Birds of Prey" have all managed to distinguish themselves, largely by moving away from Snyder's morose, desaturated style and avoiding any ongoing storylines that might tie them too closely to the other DC movies. Dragging Snyder back into the spotlight after all this feels an awful lot like backsliding into bad habits.
The pandering to the less savory parts of the fanbase is also a problem. There have been plenty of pieces written already about the dangers of emboldening fans by giving into bullying tactics, and apparently some of the #ReleasetheSnyderCut proponents are pretty toxic. However, this doesn't strike me as Warners giving in so much as taking advantage of whatever goodwill they can still squeeze out of the Snyder fans. And if the new version of "Justice League" makes those fans so happy, why should we rain on their parade?
Still, I look at that teaser trailer, and all I feel is depressed and disappointed all over again.
---
Tuesday, June 23, 2020
My Top Ten Episodes of "Preacher"
Now that "Preacher" has wrapped up after 43 episodes, I'm writing up my list of the top ten episodes, unranked. Individual entries are ordered below by airdate, and there will be spoilers below for the entire series. Enjoy.
"Pilot" - I thought that the show got off to a great start, exploding Tom Cruise and giving all the major characters their introductions. The reveal about Cassidy is especially fun, and sets the bar for the show's use of over-the-top violence and mayhem. I got over my qualms about the show sticking to one location, the town of Annville, when it became clear that there was plenty of trouble coming their way.
"Sundowner" - This is the episode with the fight in the hotel with the seraphim, the signature action sequence of the first season that leaves heaps of corpses and plenty of gore, despite there really only being four combatants involved. This is also the episode where Jesse sends Eugene to Hell, revealing a little more about the extent of Genesis's power, and the troubling nature of Jesse Custer in the process.
"Finish the Song" - The backstory of the Saint of Killers is shown multiple times throughout the first season of "Preacher," culminating in this episode where the full sequence plays over and over in a loop. We finally learn what's going on, and what part the character plays in the story. It's easily the most narratively interesting thing that the series does, and I wish the creators had taken similar risks in the later seasons.
"Call and Response" - The first season finale reveals Heaven to be perpetrating a major hoax, after a wonderfully weird appearance by "God" in the Annville church. The ending is a little convenient, but I like that it nicely sets up the next phase of the series, where the main trio decide to embark on their road trip to find God, and set off in style. The first season committed its share of blunders, but it did right by the main characters.
"On the Road" - Alas, Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy don't really spend all that much time on the road, forever getting sidetracked, stymied, and separated. The second season premiere is one of the few episodes that really sees them covering much ground together, messing with the police, being chased by the Saint of Killers, and learning the limits of Genesis while enjoying the open road. It's just too bad that it couldn't last.
"Mumbai Sky Tower" - The gang discover that Fiore the angel has turned himself into a gory roadside attraction, using his regeneration abilities to repeatedly murder himself for other people's enjoyment. This is a fun callback to "Sundowner," taking full advantage of Fiore's powers to totally drench the set in blood and guts. Notably this is also the last of the episodes directed by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg for the series.
"Pig" - Villainous Herr Starr is one of the show's best creations, and I love everything about Pip Torrens' masochistic weirdo performance. "Pig" delves into Herr Starr's history and his rise to power within the Grail organization. The training and testing scenes are an absolute riot, the show's absurdist black comedy at its best. Sadly, the rest of the episode following Tulip's existential crisis isn't very interesting - and too obvious filler.
"The End of the Road" - The bulk of the second season sees the gang stuck in New Orleans, so it's very gratifying to see them finally unstick themselves. Jesse parts ways with the Grail, Tulip finally has it out with Featherstone, Cassidy faces the truth about Denis, and Eugene and his new pal escape from Hell. We also get some nice setup for Angelville - which is much better than any of the storylines that actually take place in Angelville.
"The Tom/Brady" - The third season of "Preacher" was pretty solid, but didn't have as many obvious highs. However, there was the episode where the Allfather attempts to transfer Genesis into the Humperdoo clones, with very messy results. This episode is also the lynchpin of Cassidy's storyline with Eccarius, and features the best parts of Tulip's brief team-up with Featherstone and the Grail on the Osaka job.
"End of the World" - Finally, I have to admit that Cassidy was my favorite character, and I wish he could have gotten more time and attention. So much was trimmed from his storylines in the comics that little of his backstory or redemption arc remained. Still, I'm glad that the creators gave him the final scene, a fun little finishing touch that felt very fitting for such an outrageous, boundary-pushing series.
---
"Pilot" - I thought that the show got off to a great start, exploding Tom Cruise and giving all the major characters their introductions. The reveal about Cassidy is especially fun, and sets the bar for the show's use of over-the-top violence and mayhem. I got over my qualms about the show sticking to one location, the town of Annville, when it became clear that there was plenty of trouble coming their way.
"Sundowner" - This is the episode with the fight in the hotel with the seraphim, the signature action sequence of the first season that leaves heaps of corpses and plenty of gore, despite there really only being four combatants involved. This is also the episode where Jesse sends Eugene to Hell, revealing a little more about the extent of Genesis's power, and the troubling nature of Jesse Custer in the process.
"Finish the Song" - The backstory of the Saint of Killers is shown multiple times throughout the first season of "Preacher," culminating in this episode where the full sequence plays over and over in a loop. We finally learn what's going on, and what part the character plays in the story. It's easily the most narratively interesting thing that the series does, and I wish the creators had taken similar risks in the later seasons.
"Call and Response" - The first season finale reveals Heaven to be perpetrating a major hoax, after a wonderfully weird appearance by "God" in the Annville church. The ending is a little convenient, but I like that it nicely sets up the next phase of the series, where the main trio decide to embark on their road trip to find God, and set off in style. The first season committed its share of blunders, but it did right by the main characters.
"On the Road" - Alas, Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy don't really spend all that much time on the road, forever getting sidetracked, stymied, and separated. The second season premiere is one of the few episodes that really sees them covering much ground together, messing with the police, being chased by the Saint of Killers, and learning the limits of Genesis while enjoying the open road. It's just too bad that it couldn't last.
"Mumbai Sky Tower" - The gang discover that Fiore the angel has turned himself into a gory roadside attraction, using his regeneration abilities to repeatedly murder himself for other people's enjoyment. This is a fun callback to "Sundowner," taking full advantage of Fiore's powers to totally drench the set in blood and guts. Notably this is also the last of the episodes directed by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg for the series.
"Pig" - Villainous Herr Starr is one of the show's best creations, and I love everything about Pip Torrens' masochistic weirdo performance. "Pig" delves into Herr Starr's history and his rise to power within the Grail organization. The training and testing scenes are an absolute riot, the show's absurdist black comedy at its best. Sadly, the rest of the episode following Tulip's existential crisis isn't very interesting - and too obvious filler.
"The End of the Road" - The bulk of the second season sees the gang stuck in New Orleans, so it's very gratifying to see them finally unstick themselves. Jesse parts ways with the Grail, Tulip finally has it out with Featherstone, Cassidy faces the truth about Denis, and Eugene and his new pal escape from Hell. We also get some nice setup for Angelville - which is much better than any of the storylines that actually take place in Angelville.
"The Tom/Brady" - The third season of "Preacher" was pretty solid, but didn't have as many obvious highs. However, there was the episode where the Allfather attempts to transfer Genesis into the Humperdoo clones, with very messy results. This episode is also the lynchpin of Cassidy's storyline with Eccarius, and features the best parts of Tulip's brief team-up with Featherstone and the Grail on the Osaka job.
"End of the World" - Finally, I have to admit that Cassidy was my favorite character, and I wish he could have gotten more time and attention. So much was trimmed from his storylines in the comics that little of his backstory or redemption arc remained. Still, I'm glad that the creators gave him the final scene, a fun little finishing touch that felt very fitting for such an outrageous, boundary-pushing series.
---
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Behold "Bacurau"
Sometimes I wonder to myself, why do I watch all these obscure foreign art house films, half of which I don't really enjoy? Well, because once in a while, I end up stumbling across something really impactful and exciting, the kind of film that simply could not come out of Hollywood, or even the broader American film industry. Such a film is "Bacurau," a Brazilian feature from Juliano Dornelles and Kleber Mendonça Filho, best known for social dramas "Neighboring Sounds" and "Aquarius." I watched both of those films out of a sense of obligation previously, and my reaction was middling on both. Now I'm very glad I did see them, as they provide a lot of context for "Bacurau."
The opening scene of "Bacurau" takes us from a starry expanse above the Earth, down to the tiny, northeastern Brazilian village of Bacurau. It's a remote place, part of Brazil's backcountry, where there's not much by way of infrastructure and supplies arrive via trucks. The townsfolk are in the middle of a standoff with a corrupt local official, Tony Jr. (Thardelly Lima) over access to the town's water supply. The town's matriarch has recently died, so many family members are visiting for the funeral, including Teresa (Bárbara Colen), who arrives with a suitcase stuffed with vaccines and medicine. She soon takes up with Pacote (Thomas Aquino), a local gangster figure. The town doctor, Domingas (Sonia Braga), shows up to the funeral drunk, and declares the dead woman was a whore.
At this point, I was mentally getting ready for another small scale human drama about life in a rural village, elevating the struggles of the poor inhabitants and shedding light on the political and social injustices that burden them. The Bacurau inhabitants are a colorful lot, including several criminals and prostitutes, who nobody seems to much care are criminals and prostitutes. The filmmakers make no attempt to hide or downplay the roughness of their lives, pointedly showing swarming flies and a town meeting where everyone divides up donated food, much of it expired. On the other hand, the film is said to take place in the near future, and everyone has a cell phone and internet access. In fact, one of the first indications that something is going wrong is that Bacurau disappears from satellite maps of the region.
Past this point, I want to warn of spoilers, because the experience of watching "Bacurau" is better the less you know about it. In fact, the movie does elevate the poor villagers and spotlight social injustices. However, it does so in a totally different way than I was expecting - and in a totally different way than Juliano Dornelles and Kleber Mendonça Filho have ever done before. Though the film retains its ground level realism and very culturally specific lens, the plot takes a turn toward genre territory and never looks back. Strange things start happening around Bacurau - spooked animals, strangers lurking around, and villagers mysteriously turning up dead. And then Udo Kier shows up, and things start getting pretty wild.
I've seen this kind of film before, but the fun of "Bacurau" is that this telling of it is so specific to this region of Brazil and this particular set of circumstances. We don't get to really spend much time with the villagers or examine their lives in much depth, but there's such a wealth of detail in what we do see - the school, the little screening setup in the center of town, the various businesses, the beloved museum, and people's homes. We see who the leaders are, the way everyone is in each other's business, and the way everyone automatically lends a hand on a crisis.
On the flip side, the treatment of the film's villains is hilarious and absurd and I loved it. Sure, there's some tonal clash and some of the actors are a little iffy, but the absolute viciousness of the portrayal, and the richly deserved comeuppance they're served is amazing to see play out. There are a lot of films you could compare this to, but I think the closest is "Cabin in the Woods" for the sheer, giddy audacity and go-for-broke nature of the storytelling. Once it's revealed exactly what kind of film we're watching, everyone really commits to it.
---
The opening scene of "Bacurau" takes us from a starry expanse above the Earth, down to the tiny, northeastern Brazilian village of Bacurau. It's a remote place, part of Brazil's backcountry, where there's not much by way of infrastructure and supplies arrive via trucks. The townsfolk are in the middle of a standoff with a corrupt local official, Tony Jr. (Thardelly Lima) over access to the town's water supply. The town's matriarch has recently died, so many family members are visiting for the funeral, including Teresa (Bárbara Colen), who arrives with a suitcase stuffed with vaccines and medicine. She soon takes up with Pacote (Thomas Aquino), a local gangster figure. The town doctor, Domingas (Sonia Braga), shows up to the funeral drunk, and declares the dead woman was a whore.
At this point, I was mentally getting ready for another small scale human drama about life in a rural village, elevating the struggles of the poor inhabitants and shedding light on the political and social injustices that burden them. The Bacurau inhabitants are a colorful lot, including several criminals and prostitutes, who nobody seems to much care are criminals and prostitutes. The filmmakers make no attempt to hide or downplay the roughness of their lives, pointedly showing swarming flies and a town meeting where everyone divides up donated food, much of it expired. On the other hand, the film is said to take place in the near future, and everyone has a cell phone and internet access. In fact, one of the first indications that something is going wrong is that Bacurau disappears from satellite maps of the region.
Past this point, I want to warn of spoilers, because the experience of watching "Bacurau" is better the less you know about it. In fact, the movie does elevate the poor villagers and spotlight social injustices. However, it does so in a totally different way than I was expecting - and in a totally different way than Juliano Dornelles and Kleber Mendonça Filho have ever done before. Though the film retains its ground level realism and very culturally specific lens, the plot takes a turn toward genre territory and never looks back. Strange things start happening around Bacurau - spooked animals, strangers lurking around, and villagers mysteriously turning up dead. And then Udo Kier shows up, and things start getting pretty wild.
I've seen this kind of film before, but the fun of "Bacurau" is that this telling of it is so specific to this region of Brazil and this particular set of circumstances. We don't get to really spend much time with the villagers or examine their lives in much depth, but there's such a wealth of detail in what we do see - the school, the little screening setup in the center of town, the various businesses, the beloved museum, and people's homes. We see who the leaders are, the way everyone is in each other's business, and the way everyone automatically lends a hand on a crisis.
On the flip side, the treatment of the film's villains is hilarious and absurd and I loved it. Sure, there's some tonal clash and some of the actors are a little iffy, but the absolute viciousness of the portrayal, and the richly deserved comeuppance they're served is amazing to see play out. There are a lot of films you could compare this to, but I think the closest is "Cabin in the Woods" for the sheer, giddy audacity and go-for-broke nature of the storytelling. Once it's revealed exactly what kind of film we're watching, everyone really commits to it.
---
Friday, June 19, 2020
My Top Ten Films of 1966
This is part of my continuing series looking back on films from the years before I began this blog. The ten films below are unranked and listed in no particular order. Enjoy.
Alfie - Michael Caine's breakthrough role was the title character of "Alfie," a womanizing London driver who embodies the spirit of the UK's Swinging Sixties. However, he also reveals its uglier side too. Through his adventures and relationships with various women, he learns the dangers of living a careless lifestyle. "Alfie" is ultimately a cautionary tale, but one told with great energy and wit and style. The film's willingness to tackle taboo subject matter and the career of a very imperfect hero have helped it to remain relevant and relatable to this day. And Caine, or course, hasn't lost a step.
Daisies - The often overlooked Czech new wave produced some memorable films, including this lovely surrealist romp. Two women behave badly, acting like spoiled little girls, upending social conventions and revealing hypocrisies and they carry out their rampage of fun. Vera Chytilová's visuals are a constant delight, a riot of playful, topsy-turvy iconography drawn from the girls' lives of frivolity. Employing fast-motion, image collages, and lots of physical comedy, the film is often breathlessly high energy and unexpected. As surrealist films go, this one is consistently watchable and entertaining.
Persona - Ingmar Bergman's most experimental and formally inventive film is also one of his most iconic. There is a plot, a psychodrama that plays out between the two women played by Liv Ullman and Bibi Andersson, but it only serves as the framework for the real drama that the film portrays, about the fragility of self and identity. Bergman portrays the women's inner lives, relationships, and conflicts through striking visual compositions, the most memorable ones putting their faces in the frame in overlapping positions. The film's power comes from it's simplicity, its starkness and fearless vision.
Seconds - John Frankenheimer specialized in thrillers, and it's thanks to his skill that a B-movie plot is transformed into a grade A exercise in psychological horror. Body swap stories aren't uncommon in film, but it's rare to see one that achieves such an unsettling mood of alienation and paranoia. The film often feels closer in tone to Kafkaesque political thrillers like "The Parallax View" or Frankenheimer's own "The Manchurian Candidate" than any of the science fiction media of the era. Special kudos go to cinematographer James Wong Howe, for his evocative black and white nightmare images.
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? - The directing debut of theater wunderkund Mike Nichols, "Virginia Woolf" marked an important turning point in the emergence of New Hollywood talent. It was a groundbreaker for its enthusiastically coarse language and willingness to embrace controversial subject matter. Elizabeth Taylor got one of her best roles in years, playing an unattractive, older harridan married to Richard Burton's passive-aggressive college professor. Watching their explosive fights and depressive miseries play out during the wreckage of an evening is uncomfortable but engrossing.
Masculin Féminin - I'm not a fan of the work of Jean-Luc Godard, but I can appreciate the charms of this breezy romance, which presents a candid look at Paris in the age of the Nouvelle Vague, and "The Children of Marx and Coca-Cola." Godard uses documentary techniques, including interviews, to immerse the viewer in the environment and capture the spirit of the era. We see how his young lovers are shaped and influenced by their society and culture, and where that ultimately takes them. And this is the only film where Godard's very particular sense of humor actually lands for me.
Black Girl - African cinema was just starting to be recognized by the international film community in the 1960s, and "Black Girl," from Senegaliese director Ousmane Sembene, was an important early title. Prior to this, there had not been a film made with an African-born director maintaining true creative control. "Black Girl" remains notable not only for its anti-colonialist point of view and depiction of contemporary Africa, but for its character study of a rare black female protagonist. I still find it an immensely touching and relatable immigrant narrative with a remarkable main character.
Django - A spaghetti western and proto-exploitation film that is famously one of Quentin Tarantino's favorite films and a major influence on his work. It is yet another remake of Akira Kurosawa's "Yojimbo," but also takes its cues from American westerns and European comic books. "Django" was considered terribly violent upon initial release, and garnered some controversy. However, it has aged well thanks to its charismatic hero, played by Franco Nero, and inventive, stylish action sequences. And there is no disputing that Django, of all of cinema's celebrated gunfighters, has the best theme song.
Cul-de-Sac - The Roman Polanski black comedy and psychological thriller that depicts a farcical hostage situation that goes very badly for the hostage-takers. The nervy tone manages to balance thrills and nervous giggles as a pair of brutish gangsters go up against the deeply neurotic bourgeoisie couple they've clearly underestimated. The social satire and nerve-wracking jaunts into horror are potent stuff, but it's the absurdity with which they're presented that really gives the film its edge. There had been hostage comedies before, but few that managed to maintain this much suspense and intensity.
Blowup - Finally, Michelangelo Antonioni was known for ambiguous, difficult art films. However, when he took on a murder mystery set in '60s Britain, full of explicit sexuality and jazz music, the results scandalized the censors and resulted in a smash hit. Despite its unlikely popularity, "Blowup" is very much an Antonioni film, full of ambiguity with a central puzzle that is never actually resolved. However, it's also a fascinating snapshot of mod culture, the fashion world, and alienated youth. It was exactly the right film at the right time, and unfortunately for Antonioni, he never hit on that combination again.
---
Alfie - Michael Caine's breakthrough role was the title character of "Alfie," a womanizing London driver who embodies the spirit of the UK's Swinging Sixties. However, he also reveals its uglier side too. Through his adventures and relationships with various women, he learns the dangers of living a careless lifestyle. "Alfie" is ultimately a cautionary tale, but one told with great energy and wit and style. The film's willingness to tackle taboo subject matter and the career of a very imperfect hero have helped it to remain relevant and relatable to this day. And Caine, or course, hasn't lost a step.
Daisies - The often overlooked Czech new wave produced some memorable films, including this lovely surrealist romp. Two women behave badly, acting like spoiled little girls, upending social conventions and revealing hypocrisies and they carry out their rampage of fun. Vera Chytilová's visuals are a constant delight, a riot of playful, topsy-turvy iconography drawn from the girls' lives of frivolity. Employing fast-motion, image collages, and lots of physical comedy, the film is often breathlessly high energy and unexpected. As surrealist films go, this one is consistently watchable and entertaining.
Persona - Ingmar Bergman's most experimental and formally inventive film is also one of his most iconic. There is a plot, a psychodrama that plays out between the two women played by Liv Ullman and Bibi Andersson, but it only serves as the framework for the real drama that the film portrays, about the fragility of self and identity. Bergman portrays the women's inner lives, relationships, and conflicts through striking visual compositions, the most memorable ones putting their faces in the frame in overlapping positions. The film's power comes from it's simplicity, its starkness and fearless vision.
Seconds - John Frankenheimer specialized in thrillers, and it's thanks to his skill that a B-movie plot is transformed into a grade A exercise in psychological horror. Body swap stories aren't uncommon in film, but it's rare to see one that achieves such an unsettling mood of alienation and paranoia. The film often feels closer in tone to Kafkaesque political thrillers like "The Parallax View" or Frankenheimer's own "The Manchurian Candidate" than any of the science fiction media of the era. Special kudos go to cinematographer James Wong Howe, for his evocative black and white nightmare images.
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? - The directing debut of theater wunderkund Mike Nichols, "Virginia Woolf" marked an important turning point in the emergence of New Hollywood talent. It was a groundbreaker for its enthusiastically coarse language and willingness to embrace controversial subject matter. Elizabeth Taylor got one of her best roles in years, playing an unattractive, older harridan married to Richard Burton's passive-aggressive college professor. Watching their explosive fights and depressive miseries play out during the wreckage of an evening is uncomfortable but engrossing.
Masculin Féminin - I'm not a fan of the work of Jean-Luc Godard, but I can appreciate the charms of this breezy romance, which presents a candid look at Paris in the age of the Nouvelle Vague, and "The Children of Marx and Coca-Cola." Godard uses documentary techniques, including interviews, to immerse the viewer in the environment and capture the spirit of the era. We see how his young lovers are shaped and influenced by their society and culture, and where that ultimately takes them. And this is the only film where Godard's very particular sense of humor actually lands for me.
Black Girl - African cinema was just starting to be recognized by the international film community in the 1960s, and "Black Girl," from Senegaliese director Ousmane Sembene, was an important early title. Prior to this, there had not been a film made with an African-born director maintaining true creative control. "Black Girl" remains notable not only for its anti-colonialist point of view and depiction of contemporary Africa, but for its character study of a rare black female protagonist. I still find it an immensely touching and relatable immigrant narrative with a remarkable main character.
Django - A spaghetti western and proto-exploitation film that is famously one of Quentin Tarantino's favorite films and a major influence on his work. It is yet another remake of Akira Kurosawa's "Yojimbo," but also takes its cues from American westerns and European comic books. "Django" was considered terribly violent upon initial release, and garnered some controversy. However, it has aged well thanks to its charismatic hero, played by Franco Nero, and inventive, stylish action sequences. And there is no disputing that Django, of all of cinema's celebrated gunfighters, has the best theme song.
Cul-de-Sac - The Roman Polanski black comedy and psychological thriller that depicts a farcical hostage situation that goes very badly for the hostage-takers. The nervy tone manages to balance thrills and nervous giggles as a pair of brutish gangsters go up against the deeply neurotic bourgeoisie couple they've clearly underestimated. The social satire and nerve-wracking jaunts into horror are potent stuff, but it's the absurdity with which they're presented that really gives the film its edge. There had been hostage comedies before, but few that managed to maintain this much suspense and intensity.
Blowup - Finally, Michelangelo Antonioni was known for ambiguous, difficult art films. However, when he took on a murder mystery set in '60s Britain, full of explicit sexuality and jazz music, the results scandalized the censors and resulted in a smash hit. Despite its unlikely popularity, "Blowup" is very much an Antonioni film, full of ambiguity with a central puzzle that is never actually resolved. However, it's also a fascinating snapshot of mod culture, the fashion world, and alienated youth. It was exactly the right film at the right time, and unfortunately for Antonioni, he never hit on that combination again.
---
Wednesday, June 17, 2020
Why Are They Pushing Back the Oscars?
Due to the Coronavirus situation, the 2021 Oscars are being pushed back about two months to April 25. More importantly, the eligibility window for these Oscars is also being extended by two months, to the end of February. Note that this extension doesn't apply to "specialty" categories like animated films, documentaries, or any international releases. The Academy is essentially giving the studios an extra two months to get its planned award season contenders out in theaters. And frankly, I find this kind of infuriating.
I understand some of the reasoning for the move. The Oscars largely exist to be a marketing tool for the movie industry, and the movie industry has been hit especially hard by the pandemic. The prestige films losing the awards season boost from the Oscars would be a catastrophe. Since all of the spring and summer blockbuster films are being crammed into the fall, this means that the prestige films are being squeezed later into the winter months. In a regular year, there's already a mad crush of films being released at the end of December for awards eligibility. This year would be much worse, even with the Academy adjusting the rules to allow digital releases to be eligible for awards this year.
However, it's not like there haven't already been plenty of awards-worthy films released this year. There have been a lot of jokes about "Sonic the Hedgehog" or "Bad Boys 4 Life" being up for Best Picture, but I like "Da 5 Bloods," "Emma," "Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always," "Shirley," "The Invisible Man," and "Wendy" for potential contenders. Upcoming 2020 titles that look very promising include "Tenet," "Mank," "Soul," "The French Dispatch," "West Side Story" and "The Personal History of David Copperfield." Delaying the award ceremony itself is one thing, but extending the eligibility window strikes me as unnecessary when there are already going to be plenty of titles to fill in the nominee slots. Frankly, less competition would be a nice change too, because it would give some less traditional contenders like "Invisible Man" a shot.
I can only speculate about some of the reasoning behind the decision, but speculate I will. Limiting the awards to the calendar year of 2020 might be seen as giving the advantage to the films that premiered on streaming services. Netflix has been gunning for a Best Picture win for the last few years, and this could be their best chance at victory. They're fielding several big hopefuls this year, including "Da 5 Bloods" and "Mank." However, with theatrical exhibition having suffered such a blow, and with several prominent members of the film community strongly advocating for support of theaters, sentiments may be more sympathetic toward boosting the chances of traditional theatrical releases. Many of the Academy's fussier rules have been all about protecting and promoting theatrical exhibition, and theater owners will definitely benefit from more eligible films in the mix.
This decision may also be related to another major rule change. The Best Picture nominations will be fixed at ten slots going forward, after a decade of varying between eight and nine. The given reason is that this will help to promote more diverse nominees. Extending the eligibility period may help to ensure more quality nominees to fill those extra slots - which, again, I don't think is necessary. One drawback I don't think anyone thought through is that if the Oscars move the eligibility window into 2021, we might end up with fewer films available for the 2022 awards.
However, the most likely reason for the rule change is simply because the studios and distributors wanted this for economic reasons. The film industry is very time sensitive, and delaying so many films for an entire year until the next awards season will be very costly. Note that the eligibility exception is only applicable to general releases, meaning none of the films in the niche categories that arguably need it more will be able to take advantage of it. That nixes any of the arguments that this is being done to ensure more or better nominees.
In the end, there's no guarantee that a vaccine will be available next year, or that audiences will be ready to go back to theaters for the foreseeable future. There's still a strong possibility that a second wave of Coronavirus will force further closures in the fall. It might make more sense to cancel the awards entirely and lump 2020 and 2021 together, depending on how the rest of the year goes. There's too much up in the air to say anything for sure, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the last round of changes we're going to see before the next Oscar night.
---
I understand some of the reasoning for the move. The Oscars largely exist to be a marketing tool for the movie industry, and the movie industry has been hit especially hard by the pandemic. The prestige films losing the awards season boost from the Oscars would be a catastrophe. Since all of the spring and summer blockbuster films are being crammed into the fall, this means that the prestige films are being squeezed later into the winter months. In a regular year, there's already a mad crush of films being released at the end of December for awards eligibility. This year would be much worse, even with the Academy adjusting the rules to allow digital releases to be eligible for awards this year.
However, it's not like there haven't already been plenty of awards-worthy films released this year. There have been a lot of jokes about "Sonic the Hedgehog" or "Bad Boys 4 Life" being up for Best Picture, but I like "Da 5 Bloods," "Emma," "Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always," "Shirley," "The Invisible Man," and "Wendy" for potential contenders. Upcoming 2020 titles that look very promising include "Tenet," "Mank," "Soul," "The French Dispatch," "West Side Story" and "The Personal History of David Copperfield." Delaying the award ceremony itself is one thing, but extending the eligibility window strikes me as unnecessary when there are already going to be plenty of titles to fill in the nominee slots. Frankly, less competition would be a nice change too, because it would give some less traditional contenders like "Invisible Man" a shot.
I can only speculate about some of the reasoning behind the decision, but speculate I will. Limiting the awards to the calendar year of 2020 might be seen as giving the advantage to the films that premiered on streaming services. Netflix has been gunning for a Best Picture win for the last few years, and this could be their best chance at victory. They're fielding several big hopefuls this year, including "Da 5 Bloods" and "Mank." However, with theatrical exhibition having suffered such a blow, and with several prominent members of the film community strongly advocating for support of theaters, sentiments may be more sympathetic toward boosting the chances of traditional theatrical releases. Many of the Academy's fussier rules have been all about protecting and promoting theatrical exhibition, and theater owners will definitely benefit from more eligible films in the mix.
This decision may also be related to another major rule change. The Best Picture nominations will be fixed at ten slots going forward, after a decade of varying between eight and nine. The given reason is that this will help to promote more diverse nominees. Extending the eligibility period may help to ensure more quality nominees to fill those extra slots - which, again, I don't think is necessary. One drawback I don't think anyone thought through is that if the Oscars move the eligibility window into 2021, we might end up with fewer films available for the 2022 awards.
However, the most likely reason for the rule change is simply because the studios and distributors wanted this for economic reasons. The film industry is very time sensitive, and delaying so many films for an entire year until the next awards season will be very costly. Note that the eligibility exception is only applicable to general releases, meaning none of the films in the niche categories that arguably need it more will be able to take advantage of it. That nixes any of the arguments that this is being done to ensure more or better nominees.
In the end, there's no guarantee that a vaccine will be available next year, or that audiences will be ready to go back to theaters for the foreseeable future. There's still a strong possibility that a second wave of Coronavirus will force further closures in the fall. It might make more sense to cancel the awards entirely and lump 2020 and 2021 together, depending on how the rest of the year goes. There's too much up in the air to say anything for sure, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the last round of changes we're going to see before the next Oscar night.
---
Monday, June 15, 2020
How Do I Write About "Ronny/Lily"?
So, a few weeks ago I wrote up a post on the first four episodes of the first season of HBO comedy "Barry," concluding that the show was not for me, even though it clearly did some things very well. I fully intended to drop the show from my watch list. However, I kept seeing references to a second season episode, "Ronny/Lily," which helped win the show a couple of Emmys, and has generally been pointed to as the high point of the series to date. My curiosity got the better of me and I watched it. And it's fantastic. And I still have no interest in watching "Barry."
"Ronny/Lily" is a format breaking one-shot episode, completely different from anything else that "Barry" has done so far. It focuses on two characters, Bill Hader's reluctant assassin Barry, and Stephen Root's Monroe Fuches, Barry's uncle and handler. The whole episode chronicles a hit gone wrong, using a more surreal style, a different type of action than the norm, and Barry is noticeably off his game the whole time, bordering on incompetent. It is only peripherally connected to any of the ongoing storylines from the second season of "Barry." It's also probably the best thirty minutes of action comedy I've seen in any medium since the first "Community" paintball episode.
But what do I do with "Ronny/Lily"? How do I parse it? It's absolutely a part of "Barry," but a big reason why I like it is because it's such a major break from form and doesn't feature any of the elements I had trouble with in the first season. The acting class antics are nowhere in sight. All the clips I've watched from the season, including NoHo Hank's "50/50 with Cristobal" bit that's gone viral, don't look anything like "Ronny/Lily." I feel like I've stumbled into the "Fiona and Cake" problem again, where I was only interested in the rare "Adventure Time" episodes featuring the gender-swapped versions of the leads. Is it okay for me to just treat the episode like a one-shot and ignore the context of everything around it? But how do I analyze it in any meaningful way without the other episodes from the season? It's a great episode, but is it a great episode of "Barry"?
I think part of the problem here is that I've gone for so long now without having to put up with the vagaries of broadcast television, and I've gotten too used to having everything on demand. I don't stumble across random episodes of random shows the way I used to in the past. I don't watch things just because they happen to be airing at the right time, on a non-fuzzy channel. It's hard for me to put aside my completist tendencies and just take an episode as a singular piece of entertainment. On this blog, I almost always talk about shows in terms of full seasons. Sure, there are standout episodes of everything, but aside from anthology series, I feel like the best way to watch them is in the context of a full season of television.
On the other hand, this mindset is a big reason why I've been reluctant to try many series. The commitment required to watch certain shows can be considerable, when you don't approach anything as casual viewing anymore. Frankly, it can be downright detrimental. Though there is more serialization in shows than there used to be, many of them - especially the comedies - are still designed so that their episodes can be watched individually, out of order. I never had a problem dropping in for the occasional episode of "The Big Bang Theory" or "The Office" when I was still watching those shows intermittently. Why shouldn't I just watch "Two Cathedrals" instead of starting "The West Wing" from the beginning? Or that Thanksgiving episode of "Master of None"? Or that one good episode of "Castle Rock"?
And if they're worth writing about, I should be writing posts about individual episodes. And "Ronny/Lily" is one of those rare examples that completely deserves the attention. It's so beautifully bizarre and absurd and far more entertaining than I thought possible. Daniel Bernhardt and Jessie Giacomazzi guest starring as the title characters deserve all the kudos they can carry. I'm not even all that perturbed anymore that Bill Hader won an Emmy for directing the episode. It really is that good.
And I've got more one-offs to go looking for.
---
"Ronny/Lily" is a format breaking one-shot episode, completely different from anything else that "Barry" has done so far. It focuses on two characters, Bill Hader's reluctant assassin Barry, and Stephen Root's Monroe Fuches, Barry's uncle and handler. The whole episode chronicles a hit gone wrong, using a more surreal style, a different type of action than the norm, and Barry is noticeably off his game the whole time, bordering on incompetent. It is only peripherally connected to any of the ongoing storylines from the second season of "Barry." It's also probably the best thirty minutes of action comedy I've seen in any medium since the first "Community" paintball episode.
But what do I do with "Ronny/Lily"? How do I parse it? It's absolutely a part of "Barry," but a big reason why I like it is because it's such a major break from form and doesn't feature any of the elements I had trouble with in the first season. The acting class antics are nowhere in sight. All the clips I've watched from the season, including NoHo Hank's "50/50 with Cristobal" bit that's gone viral, don't look anything like "Ronny/Lily." I feel like I've stumbled into the "Fiona and Cake" problem again, where I was only interested in the rare "Adventure Time" episodes featuring the gender-swapped versions of the leads. Is it okay for me to just treat the episode like a one-shot and ignore the context of everything around it? But how do I analyze it in any meaningful way without the other episodes from the season? It's a great episode, but is it a great episode of "Barry"?
I think part of the problem here is that I've gone for so long now without having to put up with the vagaries of broadcast television, and I've gotten too used to having everything on demand. I don't stumble across random episodes of random shows the way I used to in the past. I don't watch things just because they happen to be airing at the right time, on a non-fuzzy channel. It's hard for me to put aside my completist tendencies and just take an episode as a singular piece of entertainment. On this blog, I almost always talk about shows in terms of full seasons. Sure, there are standout episodes of everything, but aside from anthology series, I feel like the best way to watch them is in the context of a full season of television.
On the other hand, this mindset is a big reason why I've been reluctant to try many series. The commitment required to watch certain shows can be considerable, when you don't approach anything as casual viewing anymore. Frankly, it can be downright detrimental. Though there is more serialization in shows than there used to be, many of them - especially the comedies - are still designed so that their episodes can be watched individually, out of order. I never had a problem dropping in for the occasional episode of "The Big Bang Theory" or "The Office" when I was still watching those shows intermittently. Why shouldn't I just watch "Two Cathedrals" instead of starting "The West Wing" from the beginning? Or that Thanksgiving episode of "Master of None"? Or that one good episode of "Castle Rock"?
And if they're worth writing about, I should be writing posts about individual episodes. And "Ronny/Lily" is one of those rare examples that completely deserves the attention. It's so beautifully bizarre and absurd and far more entertaining than I thought possible. Daniel Bernhardt and Jessie Giacomazzi guest starring as the title characters deserve all the kudos they can carry. I'm not even all that perturbed anymore that Bill Hader won an Emmy for directing the episode. It really is that good.
And I've got more one-offs to go looking for.
---
Saturday, June 13, 2020
"Spies in Disguise" and "Sonic the Hedgehog"
Good kids' movies should be recognized when they come around, especially when they defy expectations. So here are some quick, mostly positive thoughts on "Spies in Disguise" and "Sonic the Hedgehog."
"Spies in Disguise" is the latest from Blue Sky, about an egotistical super spy, Lance Sterling (Will Smith), who is framed for evil deeds and goes on the run. He accidentally turns himself into a pigeon using tech created by Walter (Tom Holland), a goofy young gadget inventor, who unfortunately hasn't invented a way to reverse pigeon transmogrification yet. The two have to team up to take down the terrorist Killian (Ben Mendehlson), which is difficult because Sterling doesn't play well with others, and Walter is an idealist with a strict no-kill policy.
I haven't watched a Blue Sky film since their "Peanuts" movie in 2015, and it's nice to see that their output has continued to improve over time. The character designs and animation are very solid. The gags and action sequences are energetic and fun. I could have easily mistaken this for a Dreamworks production, and it certainly looks better than anything Illumination has made in a while. There's still a little of the "Rio" style gross-out humor and comic grotesquerie that I'm not a fan of, but not very much. Instead, the bulk of the artists' energies have been spent delivering well-rounded characters, and a spy spoof adventure that earnestly makes a case for Walter's brand of nerdy optimism - one that involves subduing your enemies with glitter bombs and industrial strength silly string instead of bullets.
After hearing the wacky premise and seeing the trailers, I wasn't expecting much from "Spies in Disguise." However, the filmmakers committed to their concept, got the right talent involved, and really sold it. Will Smith as a self-serious secret agent stuck in the body of a pigeon with giant eyebrows is frequently hysterical. Tom Holland as an over-exuberant science nerd is note perfect. And I was very impressed with the amount of humor the animators managed to tease out of classic pigeon behaviors and Will Smith's familiar screen presence. The amount of angry head-bobbing is off the charts. In short, this should be a perfect watch for action-hungry kids who are tired of Minion antics, and will get some laughs from adults too.
Or then there's "Sonic the Hedgehog." Frankly, this film looked like a disaster waiting to happen. It's based on the beloved Sega game about a super-speedy blue hedgehog. It depends on a CGI character interacting with a live action world, and only "Paddington" and "Ted" have really been able to pull that off. The movie is brimming over with old cliches, steals major sequences from the "X-men" and "Pee Wee" movies, and there's product placement everywhere. Plus, there's the whole fiasco around the film's original design for Sonic himself, a weirdly anthropomorphized CGI monstrosity glimpsed in the early trailers. Thankfully, despite all this, the"Sonic" movie actually came out pretty well.
You can chalk up the film's success to its handling of the three main characters. First, there's Ben Schwarz as the hyperactive, but lonely Sonic, now a refugee from an alien world who lives in hiding on Earth. Newly glowed up and redesigned to look more like a cartoon character, Sonic is super appealing and sympathetic. He's learned about the world mostly by peeking in the windows of Tom Wachowski (James Marsden), the affable sheriff of the pleasant little town of Green Hills, Montana. After Tom accidentally injures Sonic, he agrees to take him to San Francisco, in order to help him recover portal-controlling gold rings. Finally, in pursuit of these two is the evil genius, Doctor Robotnik (Jim Carrey), who wants to hunt down Sonic for his own nefarious purposes. It's Jim Carrey in full-blast, over-the-top, manic '90s wild man mode again, and it is glorious. However, it's Marsden's efforts in the role of sincere straight man that are the lynchpin in keeping the film emotionally grounded and tonally consistent.
The story keeps it very simple. There's a road trip, human-hedgehog bonding, lots of jokes and references, and finally a big boss fight at the end. Everything in the film is familiar, but there's no toilet humor, no crassness, and no cynicism. Instead, we get plenty of charm and heart and nostalgia. The creators clearly knew the franchise and had real affection for it, and took pains to get it right this time. And it paid off very nicely.
---
"Spies in Disguise" is the latest from Blue Sky, about an egotistical super spy, Lance Sterling (Will Smith), who is framed for evil deeds and goes on the run. He accidentally turns himself into a pigeon using tech created by Walter (Tom Holland), a goofy young gadget inventor, who unfortunately hasn't invented a way to reverse pigeon transmogrification yet. The two have to team up to take down the terrorist Killian (Ben Mendehlson), which is difficult because Sterling doesn't play well with others, and Walter is an idealist with a strict no-kill policy.
I haven't watched a Blue Sky film since their "Peanuts" movie in 2015, and it's nice to see that their output has continued to improve over time. The character designs and animation are very solid. The gags and action sequences are energetic and fun. I could have easily mistaken this for a Dreamworks production, and it certainly looks better than anything Illumination has made in a while. There's still a little of the "Rio" style gross-out humor and comic grotesquerie that I'm not a fan of, but not very much. Instead, the bulk of the artists' energies have been spent delivering well-rounded characters, and a spy spoof adventure that earnestly makes a case for Walter's brand of nerdy optimism - one that involves subduing your enemies with glitter bombs and industrial strength silly string instead of bullets.
After hearing the wacky premise and seeing the trailers, I wasn't expecting much from "Spies in Disguise." However, the filmmakers committed to their concept, got the right talent involved, and really sold it. Will Smith as a self-serious secret agent stuck in the body of a pigeon with giant eyebrows is frequently hysterical. Tom Holland as an over-exuberant science nerd is note perfect. And I was very impressed with the amount of humor the animators managed to tease out of classic pigeon behaviors and Will Smith's familiar screen presence. The amount of angry head-bobbing is off the charts. In short, this should be a perfect watch for action-hungry kids who are tired of Minion antics, and will get some laughs from adults too.
Or then there's "Sonic the Hedgehog." Frankly, this film looked like a disaster waiting to happen. It's based on the beloved Sega game about a super-speedy blue hedgehog. It depends on a CGI character interacting with a live action world, and only "Paddington" and "Ted" have really been able to pull that off. The movie is brimming over with old cliches, steals major sequences from the "X-men" and "Pee Wee" movies, and there's product placement everywhere. Plus, there's the whole fiasco around the film's original design for Sonic himself, a weirdly anthropomorphized CGI monstrosity glimpsed in the early trailers. Thankfully, despite all this, the"Sonic" movie actually came out pretty well.
You can chalk up the film's success to its handling of the three main characters. First, there's Ben Schwarz as the hyperactive, but lonely Sonic, now a refugee from an alien world who lives in hiding on Earth. Newly glowed up and redesigned to look more like a cartoon character, Sonic is super appealing and sympathetic. He's learned about the world mostly by peeking in the windows of Tom Wachowski (James Marsden), the affable sheriff of the pleasant little town of Green Hills, Montana. After Tom accidentally injures Sonic, he agrees to take him to San Francisco, in order to help him recover portal-controlling gold rings. Finally, in pursuit of these two is the evil genius, Doctor Robotnik (Jim Carrey), who wants to hunt down Sonic for his own nefarious purposes. It's Jim Carrey in full-blast, over-the-top, manic '90s wild man mode again, and it is glorious. However, it's Marsden's efforts in the role of sincere straight man that are the lynchpin in keeping the film emotionally grounded and tonally consistent.
The story keeps it very simple. There's a road trip, human-hedgehog bonding, lots of jokes and references, and finally a big boss fight at the end. Everything in the film is familiar, but there's no toilet humor, no crassness, and no cynicism. Instead, we get plenty of charm and heart and nostalgia. The creators clearly knew the franchise and had real affection for it, and took pains to get it right this time. And it paid off very nicely.
---
Thursday, June 11, 2020
"The Outsider" is More Thoughtful Stephen King
Recently I wrote a post on CBS's hit supernatural procedural "Evil," which I ultimately decided was not for me. It's a well made show, but slick and shallow, and provides answers that I find too easy. This is not the case with "The Outsider," a new ten-episode limited series based on a Stephen King novel I'm not familiar with. This one is also a supernatural procedural, about the violent murder of a child that happens in a small town in Georgia.
"The Outsider" is a very slow burn series, and may vex viewers who are looking for a more exciting piece of horror media. After the initial confrontations between our protagonist, Det. Ralph Anderson (Ben Mendelsohn), and the chief suspect, little league coach Terry Maitland (Jason Bateman), the pace of the show slows down considerably. The show follows multiple other characters involved with the investigation, including Terry's wife Glory (Julianne Nicholson), private investigators Holly Gibney (Cynthia Erivo) and Alec Pelley (Jeremy Bobb), police officers Yunis Sablo (Yul Vazquez) and Jack Hoskins (Marc Menchaca), and lawyer Howard Salomon (Bill Camp). Ralph's wife Jeannie (Mare Winningham) also has a major role, pushing Ralph to be more open to supernatural explanations for the murder, and trying to help Glory weather the fallout of Terry's arrest.
What immediately struck me about the first two episodes of "The Outsider," directed by Jason Bateman, is how bleak they are. We watch events unfold through Ralph, a career lawman whose own teenage son died of cancer. He has a front row seat to the devastation unleashed on the family of the victim, the Maitlands, and other characters. We watch his doubts and frustrations grow as what initially seems to be a cut-and-dried case takes disturbing twists and turns, until he finally has to come to terms with the limits of his own stubbornly held beliefs. The early episodes evoke grief and tragedy, and aren't afraid to venture into deeply uncomfortable, upsetting material. The supernatural elements don't come into play immediately. Instead, the show takes its time, letting us get to know the various characters and their relationships. "The Outsider" turns out to be as much character study as procedural. We watch Glory fight off opportunists and try to keep her life from falling apart. We watch as Terry's legal team and law enforcement eventually join forces against their common enemy. We watch as Ralph and Jeannie become more personally involved and more emotionally invested in the case.
The actors here are the main event. "The Outsider" has a very impressive cast, lead by Mendelsohn and Erivo. Both do very good work giving very different performances. Mendelsohn is more grounded, nuanced and relatable in an everyman role. Erivo, on the other hand, is playing a very mannered eccentric, the kind of larger-than-life figure you expect to see in a genre program. Bridging the gap between them is one of the big thematic arcs of the show. There are also several fantastic character actors in the mix, including Bill Camp, Marc Menchaca, and Jeremy Bobb. Paddy Considine pops up in a crucial role late in the game. However, it's Mare Winningham and Julianne Nicholson that I thought were especially impressive. Wives and mothers too often get sidelined in similar shows, but "The Outsider" keeps Glory and Jeannie in the loop and consequential to the action, even if they're not directly involved.
I also appreciate "The Outsider" for its excellent storytelling, the way the investigation deploys its various twists and turns, and the restraint used in portraying the show's supernatural elements. There's plenty of horror here, but it feels less typically Steven King, and more akin to something from the earlier seasons of "The X-files." The build up to the final confrontation, in particular, is a lot of fun to watch. It takes the time to lay out plenty of history and context that adds immeasurably to the tension and thrills. The two penultimate episodes of the season are among my favorites, because they manage to take a lot of smaller casual conversations, side stories, and typical place-setting scenes, and use them to generate some excellent drama.
As is typical of HBO productions, "The Outsider" looks and sounds great, benefitting from high production values and a roster of strong directors. However, it's the attitude of the show's creators toward the subject matter that makes the real difference here. It takes its time, treats its characters sensitively, and demonstrates real thoughtfulness and care when handling the real world horrors. I find it very gratifying to find a series where the supernatural isn't so sensationalized, and leaves room for plenty of reflection and ambiguity.
---
"The Outsider" is a very slow burn series, and may vex viewers who are looking for a more exciting piece of horror media. After the initial confrontations between our protagonist, Det. Ralph Anderson (Ben Mendelsohn), and the chief suspect, little league coach Terry Maitland (Jason Bateman), the pace of the show slows down considerably. The show follows multiple other characters involved with the investigation, including Terry's wife Glory (Julianne Nicholson), private investigators Holly Gibney (Cynthia Erivo) and Alec Pelley (Jeremy Bobb), police officers Yunis Sablo (Yul Vazquez) and Jack Hoskins (Marc Menchaca), and lawyer Howard Salomon (Bill Camp). Ralph's wife Jeannie (Mare Winningham) also has a major role, pushing Ralph to be more open to supernatural explanations for the murder, and trying to help Glory weather the fallout of Terry's arrest.
What immediately struck me about the first two episodes of "The Outsider," directed by Jason Bateman, is how bleak they are. We watch events unfold through Ralph, a career lawman whose own teenage son died of cancer. He has a front row seat to the devastation unleashed on the family of the victim, the Maitlands, and other characters. We watch his doubts and frustrations grow as what initially seems to be a cut-and-dried case takes disturbing twists and turns, until he finally has to come to terms with the limits of his own stubbornly held beliefs. The early episodes evoke grief and tragedy, and aren't afraid to venture into deeply uncomfortable, upsetting material. The supernatural elements don't come into play immediately. Instead, the show takes its time, letting us get to know the various characters and their relationships. "The Outsider" turns out to be as much character study as procedural. We watch Glory fight off opportunists and try to keep her life from falling apart. We watch as Terry's legal team and law enforcement eventually join forces against their common enemy. We watch as Ralph and Jeannie become more personally involved and more emotionally invested in the case.
The actors here are the main event. "The Outsider" has a very impressive cast, lead by Mendelsohn and Erivo. Both do very good work giving very different performances. Mendelsohn is more grounded, nuanced and relatable in an everyman role. Erivo, on the other hand, is playing a very mannered eccentric, the kind of larger-than-life figure you expect to see in a genre program. Bridging the gap between them is one of the big thematic arcs of the show. There are also several fantastic character actors in the mix, including Bill Camp, Marc Menchaca, and Jeremy Bobb. Paddy Considine pops up in a crucial role late in the game. However, it's Mare Winningham and Julianne Nicholson that I thought were especially impressive. Wives and mothers too often get sidelined in similar shows, but "The Outsider" keeps Glory and Jeannie in the loop and consequential to the action, even if they're not directly involved.
I also appreciate "The Outsider" for its excellent storytelling, the way the investigation deploys its various twists and turns, and the restraint used in portraying the show's supernatural elements. There's plenty of horror here, but it feels less typically Steven King, and more akin to something from the earlier seasons of "The X-files." The build up to the final confrontation, in particular, is a lot of fun to watch. It takes the time to lay out plenty of history and context that adds immeasurably to the tension and thrills. The two penultimate episodes of the season are among my favorites, because they manage to take a lot of smaller casual conversations, side stories, and typical place-setting scenes, and use them to generate some excellent drama.
As is typical of HBO productions, "The Outsider" looks and sounds great, benefitting from high production values and a roster of strong directors. However, it's the attitude of the show's creators toward the subject matter that makes the real difference here. It takes its time, treats its characters sensitively, and demonstrates real thoughtfulness and care when handling the real world horrors. I find it very gratifying to find a series where the supernatural isn't so sensationalized, and leaves room for plenty of reflection and ambiguity.
---
Tuesday, June 9, 2020
"GLOW," Year One
I'm a little upset with myself that it took me this long to get onboard with "GLOW," a fictionalized account of the '80s female wrestling program, "GLOW" (which stands for Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling). It's a wonderfully seedy, underdog story about a group of women and their cantankerous director, who put together the wacky production from the ground up. Alison Brie stars as Ruth, a struggling actress who eventually becomes the biggest villain in the show's roster. However, it takes a lot of struggle and a lot of failure to get there.
So much of the fun of "GLOW" is the feeling of hanging out with a diverse group of weirdos and losers in a lovingly recreated 1980s San Fernando Valley. It's scuzzy and worn in all the right ways, full of terrible fashions and teased out hair. The cast of characters include Sheila (Gayle Rankin), a proto-furry who dresses in a wolf costume, Carmen (Britney Young), the gung-ho daughter of a famous wrestler, Cherry (Sydelle Noel), a stuntwoman who is pushed into the role of coach, and headliner Debbie Eagan (Betty Gilpin), an ex-soap opera actress juggling a baby and an unfaithful husband. Marc Maron is a highlight as Sam Sylvia, GLOW's gruff director, who is barely holding the shaky operation together when he's not busy falling apart himself.
I appreciate that the show is all about the unglamorous side of show business - the constant money troubles, the clashing goals and visions, and everyone having to compromise. Most of the show takes place in a ramshackle gym and later in a rundown motel. The ensemble is likewise full of character actresses with interesting faces. Not all the women get their own subplots, but at least we get a strong sense of everyone's personalities. There's Rhonda (Kate Nash), who is doing a terrible job of hiding that she's sleeping with Sam, because she's not actually hiding it. There's Justine (Britt Baron), a scowling punk girl who turns out to be a legitimate fan of Sam's exploitation movies. Arthie (Sunita Mani) and Jenny (Ellen Wong) are Indian and Cambodian respectively, and stuck playing minority caricatures. Well, everyone's playing a caricature, but some are more damaging than others, which the series makes a point of calling out repeatedly. Among the personas that the women take on, there's Welfare Queen, Beirut the Terrorist, Fortune Cookie, Vicky the Viking, and the evil Soviet Voya the Destroya, who fights All-American Liberty Belle.
Wrestling fans should enjoy the show in particular, because it's all about the ladies discovering the joys of wrestling and its culture, and embracing the ability to be these larger-than-life characters. It may be ridiculous, but it's also very empowering for a group of women who are stuck on the fringes of the entertainment industry for various reasons. I like the show's positive outlook, where scumbags like Sam and GLOW's spoiled rich-kid backer Bash (Chris Lowell), are redeemable. I like that all the women have their own rough edges and bad habits - Ruth definitely included - but come through when it counts for each other. The show doesn't shy away from their problems: poverty, repression, rejection, and a lot of bad experiences. It's quietly very feminist and very subversive without putting too much emphasis on it. There's an episode with an abortion subplot, that is about the most drama-free, level-headed treatment of an abortion I've ever seen in any television show.
"GLOW" also brings back the '80s that I remember, being a native of Southern California. The production design is great, full of kitsch and vintage locations, complete with a neon-lit title sequence.
The soundtrack is full of '80s bangers, including "Rock You Like a Hurricane" and Pat Benatar's "Invincible." However, there's never any point where the nostalgia feels like the point of the show instead of just a nice bonus. And while "GLOW" was based on a real show and real wrestlers, and there are a couple of cameos from more mainstream wrestling folks, it stands very much on its own and is completely accessible for newcomers. And there's such a wonderful variety of characters, it's just about impossible not to find someone to root for.
I plan on happily bingeing the rest of the episodes over the next few weeks and waiting for the final season. Because my life would be so much more boring without more Zoya the Destroya in it.
---
So much of the fun of "GLOW" is the feeling of hanging out with a diverse group of weirdos and losers in a lovingly recreated 1980s San Fernando Valley. It's scuzzy and worn in all the right ways, full of terrible fashions and teased out hair. The cast of characters include Sheila (Gayle Rankin), a proto-furry who dresses in a wolf costume, Carmen (Britney Young), the gung-ho daughter of a famous wrestler, Cherry (Sydelle Noel), a stuntwoman who is pushed into the role of coach, and headliner Debbie Eagan (Betty Gilpin), an ex-soap opera actress juggling a baby and an unfaithful husband. Marc Maron is a highlight as Sam Sylvia, GLOW's gruff director, who is barely holding the shaky operation together when he's not busy falling apart himself.
I appreciate that the show is all about the unglamorous side of show business - the constant money troubles, the clashing goals and visions, and everyone having to compromise. Most of the show takes place in a ramshackle gym and later in a rundown motel. The ensemble is likewise full of character actresses with interesting faces. Not all the women get their own subplots, but at least we get a strong sense of everyone's personalities. There's Rhonda (Kate Nash), who is doing a terrible job of hiding that she's sleeping with Sam, because she's not actually hiding it. There's Justine (Britt Baron), a scowling punk girl who turns out to be a legitimate fan of Sam's exploitation movies. Arthie (Sunita Mani) and Jenny (Ellen Wong) are Indian and Cambodian respectively, and stuck playing minority caricatures. Well, everyone's playing a caricature, but some are more damaging than others, which the series makes a point of calling out repeatedly. Among the personas that the women take on, there's Welfare Queen, Beirut the Terrorist, Fortune Cookie, Vicky the Viking, and the evil Soviet Voya the Destroya, who fights All-American Liberty Belle.
Wrestling fans should enjoy the show in particular, because it's all about the ladies discovering the joys of wrestling and its culture, and embracing the ability to be these larger-than-life characters. It may be ridiculous, but it's also very empowering for a group of women who are stuck on the fringes of the entertainment industry for various reasons. I like the show's positive outlook, where scumbags like Sam and GLOW's spoiled rich-kid backer Bash (Chris Lowell), are redeemable. I like that all the women have their own rough edges and bad habits - Ruth definitely included - but come through when it counts for each other. The show doesn't shy away from their problems: poverty, repression, rejection, and a lot of bad experiences. It's quietly very feminist and very subversive without putting too much emphasis on it. There's an episode with an abortion subplot, that is about the most drama-free, level-headed treatment of an abortion I've ever seen in any television show.
"GLOW" also brings back the '80s that I remember, being a native of Southern California. The production design is great, full of kitsch and vintage locations, complete with a neon-lit title sequence.
The soundtrack is full of '80s bangers, including "Rock You Like a Hurricane" and Pat Benatar's "Invincible." However, there's never any point where the nostalgia feels like the point of the show instead of just a nice bonus. And while "GLOW" was based on a real show and real wrestlers, and there are a couple of cameos from more mainstream wrestling folks, it stands very much on its own and is completely accessible for newcomers. And there's such a wonderful variety of characters, it's just about impossible not to find someone to root for.
I plan on happily bingeing the rest of the episodes over the next few weeks and waiting for the final season. Because my life would be so much more boring without more Zoya the Destroya in it.
---
Sunday, June 7, 2020
Missmediajunkie v. "Elmer Gantry"
Working through the films of 1960 brought me to "Elmer Gantry," based on a section of a Sinclair Lewis novel about Revivalist preachers during the 1920s. It's an interesting film, but one I've had trouble parsing. Burt Lancaster stars as the title character, a silver-tongued traveling salesman and former seminary student who loves drinking, smoking, and seducing every female in sight. One day he happens upon a revival meeting presided over by Sister Sharon Falconer (Jean Simmons), a charismatic evangelist, and promptly falls in love with her. He decides to join her cause, becoming a Billy Graham style, fire-and-brimstone preacher, to great success. However, his career is complicated by a woman from his past, a prostitute named Lulu (Shirley Jones), coming back into his life.
I knew almost nothing about "Elmer Gantry" before I saw it, except that it had been a major box office hit and won several Oscars, including acting trophies for Burt Lancaster and Shirley Jones. What immediately struck me as intriguing about the film was a notice preceding the opening titles, putting forth pre-emptive warnings about the film's criticisms of the Revivalist movement, and emphasizing that the film wasn't suitable for children. And yes, the film paints a very cynical portrait of Revivalism. There's a lot of tawdry deal-making and politicking going on behind the scenes, and Gantry finds that his new position is quite lucrative. He's able to inspire faith and devotion despite being a terrible hypocrite. Meanwhile, a true believer like Sister Falconer is ultimately punished for her hubris and ambition.
Initially, I found the film a little distasteful because the rise and success of Elmer Gantry is put in direct contrast with the trajectories of Lulu Baines and Sister Falconer, two women who experience their downfalls largely because they become involved with Gantry. On the other hand, this was a major point of the story. Lewis's novel was written as a satire, meant to show the absurdities and corrupt practices of Revivalism through his charming anti-hero. Gantry is able to unjustly escape the consequences of his behavior, while disaster befalls everyone around him. This is one of those cases where the film's age works against it, because social mores have changed so much, undercutting the film's messages. Gantry and Falconer's frank discussion of their evangelizing tactics seem perfectly normal and above board by modern standards. Gantry having his hidden vices, even in the context of the film's Prohibition era setting, isn't all that alarming. He comes across as more temporarily tarnished than truly anti-heroic.
I'm fascinated by the character of Lulu, the minister's daughter who Gantry seduced and abandoned to a life of prostitution. There are an awful lot of prostitute characters in the films of 1960, including Elizabeth Taylor's Gloria Wandrous in "BUtterfield 8" and the title character of "The World of Suzie Wong," all chafing against the restrictions of the Production Code. Lulu is not very complicated - she seeks revenge against Gantry, but loses her resolve when she sees him humiliated. I'd only seen Shirley Jones in Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals and "The Partridge Family" prior to this, and was impressed with how strong she is at playing someone so damaged and vicious. She has several scenes where she wields her sex appeal like a weapon, and it's startling. On the other hand, Lulu also reflects a bundle of terrible stereotypes about fallen women. And when put next to the saintly Sister Falconer, "Elmer Gantry" has one of the worst cases of Madonna/whore complex I've ever seen in a film.
I was also disappointed with the film's treatment of Elmer Gantry himself. Burt Lancaster's performance makes him too sympathetic, probably because the film needs him to be a romantic lead as well as a dramatic one. His moral fibre should be far more ambiguous, and his ability to escape real repercussions more troubling. Instead, we're repeatedly shown that he's remorseful of his treatment of Lulu, and truly in love with Sister Falconer. The film paints him as a flawed man who makes the right decisions in the end - saving Lulu from a violent pimp and quitting the Revivalism racket. Note that Gantry was more ambiguous in the original novel, and after parting ways with Sister Falconer, went right on preaching until he became a respected Methodist minister. I can't help but think this was a terrible wasted opportunity, especially since Lancaster was perfectly capable of delivering a memorable screen slimeball. "Elmer Gantry" came only three years after Lancaster played the iconic J.J. Hunsecker in "The Sweet Smell of Success," which notoriously received no love from the Academy.
I haven't decided what I think of the film, ultimately. It's well made and features some strong performances, but also feels half-baked in its ideas, and doesn't fully commit to its subject matter. It tries to have it both ways too many times, sympathizing with the Revivalists while criticizing their methods, and delivering a comeuppance to Gantry only to quickly walk it back. Sister Falconer's zealotry and downfall feel too out of left field, and interpretations that her tragedy is actually supposed to be a cosmic punishment for Gantry just make it come off worse. I think there's the potential for a great film here, given the source material, but the filmmakers weren't in the position to do the story justice. Given that nervous warning tacked on before the title sequence, I wonder if any commercial filmmaker in 1960 would have been.
---
I knew almost nothing about "Elmer Gantry" before I saw it, except that it had been a major box office hit and won several Oscars, including acting trophies for Burt Lancaster and Shirley Jones. What immediately struck me as intriguing about the film was a notice preceding the opening titles, putting forth pre-emptive warnings about the film's criticisms of the Revivalist movement, and emphasizing that the film wasn't suitable for children. And yes, the film paints a very cynical portrait of Revivalism. There's a lot of tawdry deal-making and politicking going on behind the scenes, and Gantry finds that his new position is quite lucrative. He's able to inspire faith and devotion despite being a terrible hypocrite. Meanwhile, a true believer like Sister Falconer is ultimately punished for her hubris and ambition.
Initially, I found the film a little distasteful because the rise and success of Elmer Gantry is put in direct contrast with the trajectories of Lulu Baines and Sister Falconer, two women who experience their downfalls largely because they become involved with Gantry. On the other hand, this was a major point of the story. Lewis's novel was written as a satire, meant to show the absurdities and corrupt practices of Revivalism through his charming anti-hero. Gantry is able to unjustly escape the consequences of his behavior, while disaster befalls everyone around him. This is one of those cases where the film's age works against it, because social mores have changed so much, undercutting the film's messages. Gantry and Falconer's frank discussion of their evangelizing tactics seem perfectly normal and above board by modern standards. Gantry having his hidden vices, even in the context of the film's Prohibition era setting, isn't all that alarming. He comes across as more temporarily tarnished than truly anti-heroic.
I'm fascinated by the character of Lulu, the minister's daughter who Gantry seduced and abandoned to a life of prostitution. There are an awful lot of prostitute characters in the films of 1960, including Elizabeth Taylor's Gloria Wandrous in "BUtterfield 8" and the title character of "The World of Suzie Wong," all chafing against the restrictions of the Production Code. Lulu is not very complicated - she seeks revenge against Gantry, but loses her resolve when she sees him humiliated. I'd only seen Shirley Jones in Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals and "The Partridge Family" prior to this, and was impressed with how strong she is at playing someone so damaged and vicious. She has several scenes where she wields her sex appeal like a weapon, and it's startling. On the other hand, Lulu also reflects a bundle of terrible stereotypes about fallen women. And when put next to the saintly Sister Falconer, "Elmer Gantry" has one of the worst cases of Madonna/whore complex I've ever seen in a film.
I was also disappointed with the film's treatment of Elmer Gantry himself. Burt Lancaster's performance makes him too sympathetic, probably because the film needs him to be a romantic lead as well as a dramatic one. His moral fibre should be far more ambiguous, and his ability to escape real repercussions more troubling. Instead, we're repeatedly shown that he's remorseful of his treatment of Lulu, and truly in love with Sister Falconer. The film paints him as a flawed man who makes the right decisions in the end - saving Lulu from a violent pimp and quitting the Revivalism racket. Note that Gantry was more ambiguous in the original novel, and after parting ways with Sister Falconer, went right on preaching until he became a respected Methodist minister. I can't help but think this was a terrible wasted opportunity, especially since Lancaster was perfectly capable of delivering a memorable screen slimeball. "Elmer Gantry" came only three years after Lancaster played the iconic J.J. Hunsecker in "The Sweet Smell of Success," which notoriously received no love from the Academy.
I haven't decided what I think of the film, ultimately. It's well made and features some strong performances, but also feels half-baked in its ideas, and doesn't fully commit to its subject matter. It tries to have it both ways too many times, sympathizing with the Revivalists while criticizing their methods, and delivering a comeuppance to Gantry only to quickly walk it back. Sister Falconer's zealotry and downfall feel too out of left field, and interpretations that her tragedy is actually supposed to be a cosmic punishment for Gantry just make it come off worse. I think there's the potential for a great film here, given the source material, but the filmmakers weren't in the position to do the story justice. Given that nervous warning tacked on before the title sequence, I wonder if any commercial filmmaker in 1960 would have been.
---
Friday, June 5, 2020
Putting the Top Ten Project on Hold
At the time of writing, I'm about ten films away from my goal of having watched fifty films from the year 1960, which means I've now watched at least fifty films from each of the last sixty years of cinema as part of my Top Ten project. And I feel that it's time I took a break.
I've been keeping up with this project for four years now, and devoting more and more of my time to watching older films for it. And the further back in time I go, the more films I'll need to watch in order to keep up. I'd need to watch roughly twenty-five films for each year of the '50s and thirty films for each year of the '40s. The accessibility of these titles isn't so much the problem. It's the time commitment. I've only got a limited amount of hours per day for media consumption, and I'm also trying to find room for current films, television series, and web content. There's also my ever-growing list of older films I want to watch, that don't happen to be from whatever year I'm working through for the project. There are a lot of '90s and early 2000s films that I've missed along the way somehow. And more '70s and '80s films that I only learned about in the process of working on this project.
Also, frankly, as I've been going farther and farther back, watching these films is becoming more of a chore. Occasionally I'll still turn up a great surprise, like the anti- "Pygmalion" culture clash comedy "Never on Sunday," but I've also found myself struggling through more and more lackluster films - usually the melodramas, war epics, and westerns. I knew that films from before 1965, when the Production Code still governed all the major studio output, meant certain restrictions on content. I knew cultural norms were also very different. However, I still find myself bristling at the increasingly limited depictions of women, and the aggressively patronizing portrayals of anyone not Caucasian. Asians and Native Americans, in particular, are treated appallingly in Hollywood films prior to the mid-70s. And while it's nice to finally be able to sort out William Holden from Glenn Ford, and see stars like Peter Falk in their early days, it feels like most of the films I'm watching have little relevance to the present, and are really only interesting for their historical value.
I've gotten a lot out of this project so far. I recently read Mark Harris's "Pictures at a Revolution," about the history of the five Best Picture nominees of 1967, and it made such a difference that I'd waited until getting through the bulk of the mid-'60s films. Having seen roughly two-thirds of the titles mentioned in the book meant I had a lot more reference points and context for how events unfolded. Similarly, seeing "Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood" would have been a very different experience if I hadn't gotten myself familiar with the likes of Sergio Corbucci and Hal Needham. And I've become a fan of many more forgotten performers, including Sophie Loren, Alan Arkin, and Melina Mercouri.
However, when I weigh the value of spending so much time on these older films with catching up on the backlog of everything else on my watchlists, it's been getting harder and harder to justify. Currently, I'm averaging one season of current television per week (roughly 8-10 episodes, because it's 2020), and VOD and streaming options have steadily increased the amount of current films I have access to. I haven't been able to make time for older television and streaming series, though I've amassed a pretty long list of titles I want to take a look at. At the top of the list are "GLOW," "Infinity Train," and "Undone." I've also been meaning to give "Mr. Robot" another shot. I heard the finale was good.
Once I get through the last few films of 1960, I expect I'll be putting more viewing hours toward television series for a while. This is consistent with the decision I made last year, when I consciously started shifting the content of this blog to be more balanced between films and television, and thus more representative of my actual media interests. The pendulum will probably swing back toward films during blockbuster season and awards season, but for now I have some catching up to do with the small screen.
---
I've been keeping up with this project for four years now, and devoting more and more of my time to watching older films for it. And the further back in time I go, the more films I'll need to watch in order to keep up. I'd need to watch roughly twenty-five films for each year of the '50s and thirty films for each year of the '40s. The accessibility of these titles isn't so much the problem. It's the time commitment. I've only got a limited amount of hours per day for media consumption, and I'm also trying to find room for current films, television series, and web content. There's also my ever-growing list of older films I want to watch, that don't happen to be from whatever year I'm working through for the project. There are a lot of '90s and early 2000s films that I've missed along the way somehow. And more '70s and '80s films that I only learned about in the process of working on this project.
Also, frankly, as I've been going farther and farther back, watching these films is becoming more of a chore. Occasionally I'll still turn up a great surprise, like the anti- "Pygmalion" culture clash comedy "Never on Sunday," but I've also found myself struggling through more and more lackluster films - usually the melodramas, war epics, and westerns. I knew that films from before 1965, when the Production Code still governed all the major studio output, meant certain restrictions on content. I knew cultural norms were also very different. However, I still find myself bristling at the increasingly limited depictions of women, and the aggressively patronizing portrayals of anyone not Caucasian. Asians and Native Americans, in particular, are treated appallingly in Hollywood films prior to the mid-70s. And while it's nice to finally be able to sort out William Holden from Glenn Ford, and see stars like Peter Falk in their early days, it feels like most of the films I'm watching have little relevance to the present, and are really only interesting for their historical value.
I've gotten a lot out of this project so far. I recently read Mark Harris's "Pictures at a Revolution," about the history of the five Best Picture nominees of 1967, and it made such a difference that I'd waited until getting through the bulk of the mid-'60s films. Having seen roughly two-thirds of the titles mentioned in the book meant I had a lot more reference points and context for how events unfolded. Similarly, seeing "Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood" would have been a very different experience if I hadn't gotten myself familiar with the likes of Sergio Corbucci and Hal Needham. And I've become a fan of many more forgotten performers, including Sophie Loren, Alan Arkin, and Melina Mercouri.
However, when I weigh the value of spending so much time on these older films with catching up on the backlog of everything else on my watchlists, it's been getting harder and harder to justify. Currently, I'm averaging one season of current television per week (roughly 8-10 episodes, because it's 2020), and VOD and streaming options have steadily increased the amount of current films I have access to. I haven't been able to make time for older television and streaming series, though I've amassed a pretty long list of titles I want to take a look at. At the top of the list are "GLOW," "Infinity Train," and "Undone." I've also been meaning to give "Mr. Robot" another shot. I heard the finale was good.
Once I get through the last few films of 1960, I expect I'll be putting more viewing hours toward television series for a while. This is consistent with the decision I made last year, when I consciously started shifting the content of this blog to be more balanced between films and television, and thus more representative of my actual media interests. The pendulum will probably swing back toward films during blockbuster season and awards season, but for now I have some catching up to do with the small screen.
---
Wednesday, June 3, 2020
Doctor Who, Year Twelve (or Thirty-Eight)
So, following the pattern of pretty much every "Doctor Who" format or cast change since 2005, it took about a season and a half for everyone to settle into new roles, and a workable status quo to be established, before the show could really start getting good again. Jodie Whittaker's been strong since the beginning, but her Fourteenth Doctor wasn't given the best material. This year, however, things have improved significantly.
The biggest change has been the current writing staff embracing the show's extensive mythology, often to a surprising degree. Not only are old villains like the Cybermen and the Master (Sacha Dhawan) back in the mix, but this series actively digs into the history of the Doctor, the Time Lords, and the planet Gallifrey in a big ongoing arc. The Fourteenth Doctor is given the opportunity to show much darker shades of gray in several episodes, including the highlight of the Chris Chibnall era so far, "The Haunting of Villa Diodati." This is the episode I've been waiting for, where we finally see the Time Lord (Lady?) aspect of the Doctor rear her head, and the whole idea of the democratic TARDIS "Fam" is shown to be a sham.
I don't mind the current roster of Companions as much as the wider fanbase seems to. Graham fills a nice avuncular cheerleader/comic relief role, and Ryan's a bit of a Tin Dog. Mandip Gill is very strong as Yaz, but I don't feel like she's been given the chance to be memorable. Attempts at giving her some backstory this year were appreciated, but not very effective. And then we have the new Master, played by Sacha Dhawan, who is really having fun with the role. He's definitely committed to delivering old school, maniacal, over-the-top evil, and it works really well here. There's some good chemistry between the Master and the Doctor again, so I hope Dhawan stays around for a long while.
As always, there's a lot of variance in the quality of this season's individual episodes. I think "The Haunting of Villa Diodati" is the high point, but the premiere and finale episodes are also very strong, along with a great midseason episode, "Fugitive of Judoon," that looks like a typical monster-of-the-week story, but turns out to be much more interesting. There are also the usual duds, including the obvious low point of "Orphan 55," a far too ham-handed climate change cautionary tale with an awful closing monologue. I still get a sense that the Chibnall era is trying to be more educational and more forward-thinking, reflecting current events. Unfortunately, the show is a drag when it gets too self-serious and didactic. However, I do like the portrayals of the historical figures who are featured in various outings, including Ada Lovelace, Noor Khan, Nikola Tesla, Percy Shelley, and a horn dog Lord Byron.
As for the new additions to the show's mythology and the Doctor's personal history, well, they're probably going to make the die-hards upset, but I don't see them as anything really earth-shattering. Gallifrey gets destroyed and brought back over and over again. The Doctor has been revealed to be the exception to every rule in the show's universe, a Messiah figure, and a literal god more times than I can count. Having her revealed to be important and special among the Time Lords is kind of old hat. Clearly these are not developments I'm too excited about, but they're executed well and they give Sacha Dhawan an excuse to deliver some really good rants.
Looking ahead to future series, there is still a lot of room for improvement. I don't know that cutting down the number of Companions is actually going to help, but I guess it couldn't hurt either. I am glad to see more serialization, more mythology, and more angsty Gallifreyan melodrama. While the Cybermen have been overused in recent years, there were a couple of good twists on the concept this time out. The Daleks are expected back for the Christmas special, and I'm looking forward to it. Also, there are a lot of loose ends from this season that I want to see cleaned up. The Captain Jack appearance was a terrible tease, and he'd better show up again sooner rather than later.
---
The biggest change has been the current writing staff embracing the show's extensive mythology, often to a surprising degree. Not only are old villains like the Cybermen and the Master (Sacha Dhawan) back in the mix, but this series actively digs into the history of the Doctor, the Time Lords, and the planet Gallifrey in a big ongoing arc. The Fourteenth Doctor is given the opportunity to show much darker shades of gray in several episodes, including the highlight of the Chris Chibnall era so far, "The Haunting of Villa Diodati." This is the episode I've been waiting for, where we finally see the Time Lord (Lady?) aspect of the Doctor rear her head, and the whole idea of the democratic TARDIS "Fam" is shown to be a sham.
I don't mind the current roster of Companions as much as the wider fanbase seems to. Graham fills a nice avuncular cheerleader/comic relief role, and Ryan's a bit of a Tin Dog. Mandip Gill is very strong as Yaz, but I don't feel like she's been given the chance to be memorable. Attempts at giving her some backstory this year were appreciated, but not very effective. And then we have the new Master, played by Sacha Dhawan, who is really having fun with the role. He's definitely committed to delivering old school, maniacal, over-the-top evil, and it works really well here. There's some good chemistry between the Master and the Doctor again, so I hope Dhawan stays around for a long while.
As always, there's a lot of variance in the quality of this season's individual episodes. I think "The Haunting of Villa Diodati" is the high point, but the premiere and finale episodes are also very strong, along with a great midseason episode, "Fugitive of Judoon," that looks like a typical monster-of-the-week story, but turns out to be much more interesting. There are also the usual duds, including the obvious low point of "Orphan 55," a far too ham-handed climate change cautionary tale with an awful closing monologue. I still get a sense that the Chibnall era is trying to be more educational and more forward-thinking, reflecting current events. Unfortunately, the show is a drag when it gets too self-serious and didactic. However, I do like the portrayals of the historical figures who are featured in various outings, including Ada Lovelace, Noor Khan, Nikola Tesla, Percy Shelley, and a horn dog Lord Byron.
As for the new additions to the show's mythology and the Doctor's personal history, well, they're probably going to make the die-hards upset, but I don't see them as anything really earth-shattering. Gallifrey gets destroyed and brought back over and over again. The Doctor has been revealed to be the exception to every rule in the show's universe, a Messiah figure, and a literal god more times than I can count. Having her revealed to be important and special among the Time Lords is kind of old hat. Clearly these are not developments I'm too excited about, but they're executed well and they give Sacha Dhawan an excuse to deliver some really good rants.
Looking ahead to future series, there is still a lot of room for improvement. I don't know that cutting down the number of Companions is actually going to help, but I guess it couldn't hurt either. I am glad to see more serialization, more mythology, and more angsty Gallifreyan melodrama. While the Cybermen have been overused in recent years, there were a couple of good twists on the concept this time out. The Daleks are expected back for the Christmas special, and I'm looking forward to it. Also, there are a lot of loose ends from this season that I want to see cleaned up. The Captain Jack appearance was a terrible tease, and he'd better show up again sooner rather than later.
---
Monday, June 1, 2020
My Top Ten Music Videos
I've been toying with writing up this list for a while, but was always discouraged by all the old excuses. I haven't watched enough music videos to know what I'm talking about. I only really watched them regularly during my early 20s, when I would habitually turn on the VH1 countdowns and compilation shows on weekend mornings. I have a heavy, heavy bias towards certain musical genres and artists, and couldn't be remotely objective about my picks.
And all of this is okay. It recently dawned on me how many music videos I actually have watched over the years, how many of the major directors I was familiar with, and how much I really do love the music video form. As a film nerd, I know that music videos have always been one of the best platforms for innovative filmmaking, and a great launching pad for talent. And most of the videos on this list are ones that I've obsessed over, watched dozens of times on repeat, and have never forgotten.
So, below, find my ten favorite music videos, unranked and ordered by premiere date. It's almost all rock videos and there's an awful lot of animation. Please note that one major criteria that knocked a lot of videos off the list is that I have to actually like the song. Sorry, "Sledgehammer."
"Take On Me" by A-ha (1985) - dir. Steve Barron - Out of all the older videos I remember glimpsing as a kid, this is the one that stuck. It features fabulous hand-drawn animation, it's beautifully conceived and designed, and it's so very, very '80s. I just learned today that the climactic finale was an extended reference to Ken Russell's "Altered States," which makes so much sense. Also, director Steve Barron went on to be involved with many projects I loved over the years, including Jim Henson's "Storyteller" and the "Merlin" miniseries.
"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails (1994) - dir. Mark Romanek - I didn't actually see the full video for this one until I was well into my twenties, and immediately became obsessed with it, with Romanek's entire body of work, and with tracking down all the various influences for the imagery in the video. Hello Francis Bacon, and Hello Brothers Quay. I'm still kind of ticked off that the "Making of" video isn't included in the "Director's Label: The Work of Director Mark Romanek" DVD I bought specifically so I could see the uncensored cut of "Closer," pre-Youtube.
"Around the World" by Daft Punk (1997) - dir. Michel Gondry - I had to have a Gondry video, and I nearly picked the White Stripes' "Hardest Button to Button." However, I like the Daft Punk song better. I like the goofiness and simplicity of the video's concept. Let's have some dancing skeletons! Robots! People with teeny fake heads! And I just love the visual representation of how the music actually functions, with the different groups acting as the bass line and vocals and synthesizers, all interacting and recurring. It's more hypnotic the longer you watch it.
"Do the Evolution" by Pearl Jam (1998) - dir. Kevin Altieri and Todd McFarlane - This was such a big deal in my little corner of the media world when it was released. You had guys responsible for "Batman: The Animated Series" and "Spawn" collaborating on this really dark, nihilistic piece of mature animation. In hindsight, it's not nearly as incendiary as I thought it was as a teenager, but some of those images still make my skin crawl. As with many groups from this era, I didn't become a fan of Pearl Jam and their music until much, much later.
"Intergalactic" by The Beastie Boys (1998) - dir. MCA - There's a reason the Beastie Boys's music video collection has a Criterion release. I considered the beloved "Sabotage," of course, but "Intergalactic" was always more fun to sing, and I am such a sucker for kaiju monster battles. The homage is so silly, and yet so loving. This is one of the few heavily Japanese influenced pieces of Western media that doesn't immediately make me cringe, probably because the aesthetics put all the emphasis on the wonderful, wacky kaiju battle universe.
"Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim (2001) - dir. Spike Jonze - Why yes, I will watch this music video with Christopher Walken dancing and flying around an empty hotel lobby over and over and over again. Jonze is one of the key music video auteurs, whose work has been hugely influential, and I'm glad that I managed to get at least one of his videos on his list. Also, this is one of the videos that first sparked my interest in the medium in the first place, sending me down a rabbit hole of lists and compilations as I tried to play catch-up on a couple decades of content.
"Hurt" by Johnny Cash (2003) - dir. Mark Romanek - Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash were well before my time, but the video gets across the weight of all those tumultuous years together and the extent of their fame and reputation as musicians. The lyrics of the NIN song are gutting enough, but the contrast between the archival footage of Cash in his prime, and the decaying House of Cash museum is so unsparing, and so wrenching. Even without the context of Cash's death only months after the video premiered, it's a fantastic, elegeic career capper.
"Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz (2005) - dir. Pete Candeland and Jamie Hewlett - I was a big Gorillaz fan for a couple of years, peaking with the release of their "Demon Days" album and all the related material. "Feel Good Inc." and its sequel video "El Mañana" still strike me as their most impressive achievements, because they evoke this deep sadness and despair, even in a Miyazaki-inspired fantasy context. The adventures of the Gorillaz as fictional characters were always sort of piecemeal and never added up to anything too coherent, but for a moment it felt like they did.
"Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey (2008) - dir. Brett Ratner - I'm not really a fan of Mariah Carey. I've never really understood the charms of "30 Rock." And the less said of my opinions toward the work of Brett Ratner, the better. But there's just something irresistible about the combination of this particular coochie-coo track with the weirdly wholesome nerd-love fantasies of Jack McBrayer's IT guy. It just thrills me how much Carey gets into it, and then there's laser tag and a unicorn and frisbee. Don't we all wish we could find somebody to be this uncool with?
"This is America" by Childish Gambino (2018) - dir. Hiro Murai - And after about a solid decade of mostly ignoring or only glancing over music videos, suddenly Donald Glover and company go and throw this grenade into the middle of the American culture war. For the first time in ages, I found myself watching a music video over and over again on repeat, marvelling at all the layers of symbolism and detail, and then trying to track down the influences and references. It's a good reminder that videos like this can still have power - and boy can they still have teeth.
Okay, that was less rock than I thought there was.
Honorable mentions:
“Sabotage” by Beastie Boys (1994)
"Frozen" by Madonna (1998)
"The Hardest Button to Button" by The White Stripes (2003)
"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day (2004)
"White and Nerdy" by Weird Al (2006)
"Pork and Beans" by Weezer (2008)
“Here It Goes Again” by OK Go (2009)
---
And all of this is okay. It recently dawned on me how many music videos I actually have watched over the years, how many of the major directors I was familiar with, and how much I really do love the music video form. As a film nerd, I know that music videos have always been one of the best platforms for innovative filmmaking, and a great launching pad for talent. And most of the videos on this list are ones that I've obsessed over, watched dozens of times on repeat, and have never forgotten.
So, below, find my ten favorite music videos, unranked and ordered by premiere date. It's almost all rock videos and there's an awful lot of animation. Please note that one major criteria that knocked a lot of videos off the list is that I have to actually like the song. Sorry, "Sledgehammer."
"Take On Me" by A-ha (1985) - dir. Steve Barron - Out of all the older videos I remember glimpsing as a kid, this is the one that stuck. It features fabulous hand-drawn animation, it's beautifully conceived and designed, and it's so very, very '80s. I just learned today that the climactic finale was an extended reference to Ken Russell's "Altered States," which makes so much sense. Also, director Steve Barron went on to be involved with many projects I loved over the years, including Jim Henson's "Storyteller" and the "Merlin" miniseries.
"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails (1994) - dir. Mark Romanek - I didn't actually see the full video for this one until I was well into my twenties, and immediately became obsessed with it, with Romanek's entire body of work, and with tracking down all the various influences for the imagery in the video. Hello Francis Bacon, and Hello Brothers Quay. I'm still kind of ticked off that the "Making of" video isn't included in the "Director's Label: The Work of Director Mark Romanek" DVD I bought specifically so I could see the uncensored cut of "Closer," pre-Youtube.
"Around the World" by Daft Punk (1997) - dir. Michel Gondry - I had to have a Gondry video, and I nearly picked the White Stripes' "Hardest Button to Button." However, I like the Daft Punk song better. I like the goofiness and simplicity of the video's concept. Let's have some dancing skeletons! Robots! People with teeny fake heads! And I just love the visual representation of how the music actually functions, with the different groups acting as the bass line and vocals and synthesizers, all interacting and recurring. It's more hypnotic the longer you watch it.
"Do the Evolution" by Pearl Jam (1998) - dir. Kevin Altieri and Todd McFarlane - This was such a big deal in my little corner of the media world when it was released. You had guys responsible for "Batman: The Animated Series" and "Spawn" collaborating on this really dark, nihilistic piece of mature animation. In hindsight, it's not nearly as incendiary as I thought it was as a teenager, but some of those images still make my skin crawl. As with many groups from this era, I didn't become a fan of Pearl Jam and their music until much, much later.
"Intergalactic" by The Beastie Boys (1998) - dir. MCA - There's a reason the Beastie Boys's music video collection has a Criterion release. I considered the beloved "Sabotage," of course, but "Intergalactic" was always more fun to sing, and I am such a sucker for kaiju monster battles. The homage is so silly, and yet so loving. This is one of the few heavily Japanese influenced pieces of Western media that doesn't immediately make me cringe, probably because the aesthetics put all the emphasis on the wonderful, wacky kaiju battle universe.
"Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim (2001) - dir. Spike Jonze - Why yes, I will watch this music video with Christopher Walken dancing and flying around an empty hotel lobby over and over and over again. Jonze is one of the key music video auteurs, whose work has been hugely influential, and I'm glad that I managed to get at least one of his videos on his list. Also, this is one of the videos that first sparked my interest in the medium in the first place, sending me down a rabbit hole of lists and compilations as I tried to play catch-up on a couple decades of content.
"Hurt" by Johnny Cash (2003) - dir. Mark Romanek - Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash were well before my time, but the video gets across the weight of all those tumultuous years together and the extent of their fame and reputation as musicians. The lyrics of the NIN song are gutting enough, but the contrast between the archival footage of Cash in his prime, and the decaying House of Cash museum is so unsparing, and so wrenching. Even without the context of Cash's death only months after the video premiered, it's a fantastic, elegeic career capper.
"Feel Good Inc." by Gorillaz (2005) - dir. Pete Candeland and Jamie Hewlett - I was a big Gorillaz fan for a couple of years, peaking with the release of their "Demon Days" album and all the related material. "Feel Good Inc." and its sequel video "El Mañana" still strike me as their most impressive achievements, because they evoke this deep sadness and despair, even in a Miyazaki-inspired fantasy context. The adventures of the Gorillaz as fictional characters were always sort of piecemeal and never added up to anything too coherent, but for a moment it felt like they did.
"Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey (2008) - dir. Brett Ratner - I'm not really a fan of Mariah Carey. I've never really understood the charms of "30 Rock." And the less said of my opinions toward the work of Brett Ratner, the better. But there's just something irresistible about the combination of this particular coochie-coo track with the weirdly wholesome nerd-love fantasies of Jack McBrayer's IT guy. It just thrills me how much Carey gets into it, and then there's laser tag and a unicorn and frisbee. Don't we all wish we could find somebody to be this uncool with?
"This is America" by Childish Gambino (2018) - dir. Hiro Murai - And after about a solid decade of mostly ignoring or only glancing over music videos, suddenly Donald Glover and company go and throw this grenade into the middle of the American culture war. For the first time in ages, I found myself watching a music video over and over again on repeat, marvelling at all the layers of symbolism and detail, and then trying to track down the influences and references. It's a good reminder that videos like this can still have power - and boy can they still have teeth.
Okay, that was less rock than I thought there was.
Honorable mentions:
“Sabotage” by Beastie Boys (1994)
"Frozen" by Madonna (1998)
"The Hardest Button to Button" by The White Stripes (2003)
"Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day (2004)
"White and Nerdy" by Weird Al (2006)
"Pork and Beans" by Weezer (2008)
“Here It Goes Again” by OK Go (2009)
---
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
