"Lost," Year Four

Spoilers ahead.

I wasn't originally going to write a post for the fourth season of "Lost," expecting to combine it with the fifth season because it's only fourteen episodes - roughly half as long as any of the prior seasons due to a writers' strike.  However, I thought it was important to acknowledge that I've hit a very rough patch in my time with the show.  In short, "Lost" has pretty much lost me.   

Season four is when the freighter Kahana shows up with Daniel Faraday (Jeremy Davies), Miles Straume (Ken Leung), Martin Keamy (Kevin Durand), Charlotte Lewis (Rebecca Mader), Frank Lapidus (Jeff Fahey), Fisher Stevens, Zoe Bell, and the return of Harold Perrineau as Michael.  And frankly, I couldn't keep this bunch and their motives straight.  I know that they've been sent by Penny's father Charles Widmore (Alan Dale), and that they're after Ben Linus and his cult of Others, who I have an even less of a firm grasp on anymore.  Ben's pal Alpert (Nestor Carbonell) appears to be a real person and not a vision.  Ben is also making nice with John Locke, who puts together a splinter group that is mostly killed off.  And frankly, none of this interests me at all.

The third season had a fantastic finale where it was revealed via a flashforward that Jack and Kate got off the island, and Jack was convinced they "have to go back."  The entire fourth season is spent getting the story to that point, and we don't learn how six lucky survivors actually made it back to civilization until the end of the finale.  There are a few other flashforwards to give us hints and set up some smaller mysteries, but otherwise the fourth season spends a lot of time with the new characters and the escalation of hostilities.  There's a lot of trekking through the jungle, getting split up, and trying to keep track of who is where and with whom.  One group is still on the beach.  One group temporarily goes to the freighter.  There's a helicopter in play, which is at the center of a few big action sequences.

However, from a character standpoint, not much interesting happens.  There are way too many players now to really focus on anyone for more than an episode, and I simply couldn't bring myself to care about Charlotte and Faraday and even Michael, who is brought back to almost immediately hit an awful narrative dead end, one that makes me wonder why they bothered.  The best written episode of the season is "The Constant," which some consider the best episode in the whole show, but I didn't feel much emotional connection to its hero, Desmond Hume.  I dislike or maintain a steady disinterest in just about all the characters who "Lost" narratively favors at this point - Jack, Kate, Desmond, John Locke, and even Ben Linus after his storyline was so bungled.  The ones I'm more interested in - Hurley, The Kwons, Sawyer, and Sayid - remain present but secondary characters.

It's not that "Lost" is not a well made show, or that there weren't significant resources expended on its creation.  However, it's become clear to me that I can't get over the fact that "Lost" is a genre show of a different era, one that has far more in common with network soaps than the nerdier science-fiction and fantasy programs that I've become accustomed to.  Jack and Kate's romance will always be carried out with the maximum amount of eye-rolling melodrama, and now we've got multiple babies in the mix and way too many terrible dads.  It's frustrating because I can pick out a lot of the fun metaphysical and existential elements that Damon Lindelof would explore so much more successfully in his later shows, but "Lost" is still taking baby steps, even this late in its run.  It doesn't actually seem to want to be a mystery show or a puzzle show except to the extent that it can tease the audience to stick around.  It's no wonder viewers got so frustrated in these later seasons, because a series this tropey and unsubtle was never going to get away with presenting so many ambiguous non-answers. 

I admire "The Constant" for doing the "unstuck in time" plot, but at the same time, I've seen several other better variations on this story since the episode aired, some of them probably inspired by "The Constant," and it just can't compare in retrospect.  It's the "Seinfeld isn't funny" problem of something innovative and groundbreaking simply not holding up because its imitators have surpassed it so completely.  I think the fact that the central character is Desmond, instead of Sayid or Michael or Claire, also didn't help matters.  "Lost" keeps asking me to care about one more obsessive, shouty white guy after another, and it's honestly a relief that they appear to have killed off a few by the end of season four - well, temporarily anyway.     

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The "Eephus" Elegy

I'm the wrong person to be extolling the virtues of "Eephus," directed and co-written by Carson Lund, which I strongly suspect is one of the great baseball movies.  I don't just mean one of the great baseball movies of this decade or this era, but one of the great baseball movies, period.  The trouble is that I don't have much of an appreciation for the sport, and no nostalgia for it whatsoever, and "Eephus" is often about nostalgia.  

A ballfield in Massachusetts is about to be demolished to make way for the building of a new school.  Thus, the local recreational team, Adler's Paint, faces the end of the line.  The team spends one last day there, playing an eventful game against their rivals, the Riverdogs.  From the beginning, the game is a dodgy affair.  Adler's Paint almost has to forfeit because a player is late.  Balls are lost, players leave early, and everyone grumbles over aches and pains and all the compromises they need to make to keep the game going.  Nearly all the players are middle-aged men, some noticeably out of shape.  The spectators include politely disinterested family members, snide passersby, and one ancient recordkeeper.  As the game drags on, and the sun goes down, there seems to be no reason for any of them to be there, except their dogged determination to finish the game.

"Eephus" is very much a vibes movie.  There's not much of a plot, except for watching the game play out and listening in on people's conversations.  The characters all have names, but it's difficult to keep track of them, and I didn't recognize any of the actors.  Apparently the documentarian Frederick Wiseman contributed some voiceover work.  But no matter - the players are a ragtag collection of guys who are endlessly fascinating to observe.  No introductions are made, and we have to operate off of a lot of incidental information - this this one is married, that one is studying to be an engineer, and the pitcher specializes in the "eephus," a rare pitch that seems to slow down as it approaches the plate, causing the batter to misjudge its timing.  The film has chapter markers, each noting the time of day and offering a quote from one of the baseball greats, like Yogi Berra and Babe Ruth.  A radio in the dugout plays a recording of a far more exciting professional game from decades ago.       

I like the way that "Eephus" presents a picture of male camaraderie through a mosaic of small interactions - some ambivalent, some contentious, some with a fair amount of invective, but none of the disagreements leading anywhere serious.  There are complaints, encouragements, commiserations, invitations, and remembrances.  Their treatment of the game is unsentimental.  Throughout the day we hear repeated claims that one player or another shouldn't even be there that day, or should have left hours ago, or that the whole game is an exercise in futility.  However, without ever stating why or how, it's clear that the game does mean a great deal to many of the players.  They hunt down the lost balls, figure out substitutions as they lose players, and even engineer a nifty way to keep playing in the dark.  They perform the rituals of the game as best they can, from the national anthem, to the sharing of beers.

  

There's something instantly evocative about the way "Eephus" looks, its images of the schlubby players in their red or blue uniforms somehow a very  comfortable and familiar sight.  Everything about the cinematography runs contrary to the glorified images of baseball heroes, shots lingering on everyone looking tired, or bored, or exasperated.  However, there's also a wonderful patience to the film, letting us soak in the inviting New England small town atmosphere.  The passage of time is captured beautifully as daylight fades, and in the night sequences the lighting becomes more inventive and dramatic.  I love the way that fireworks are used in one of the final scenes.

 

In short, you don't have to like or know anything about baseball to enjoy "Eephus," though I'm sure it helps.  You do, however, have to be able to empathize and sympathize with the men who love baseball, beyond all hope of glory, to the bittersweet end.    

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"Andor," Year Two

Minor spoilers ahead.  

The second season of "Andor" is a little different from the first structurally.  Again, it's twelve episodes divided up into four groupings of three.  However, where the events of the first season took place over the course of a year, each three-episode chunk of the second season is spaced a year apart.  The first three episodes take place three years before the events of "Rogue One," the next three take place two years before, and so on.

You can distinguish each of these episode batches by the different missions and the characters' circumstances, but they're not as clearly delineated as the first season.  Cassian Andor remains an important focal point in the show, but storylines featuring Luthen, Mon Mothma, Syril Karn, and other characters often feel more important.  This year Luthen's assistant Kleya Marki (Elizabeth Dulau) becomes very prominent, especially in the final episodes.  So do informant Lonni Jung (Robert Emms), and resistance members Wilmon Paak (Muhannad Bhaier) and Cinta Kaz (Varada Sethu).  Ben Mendelshon's evil Orson Krennic and other characters from "Rogue One" also start showing up, and it may be helpful to start thinking of that movie as the proper finale to the "Andor" series.  

With the Rebellion building up its forces, and the Imperials amassing more and more power, the parallels to real historical conflicts become much more pronounced this season.  Multiple storylines center around the planet Ghorman, a prosperous world that the Empire wants to destroy to further its secret plans.  Ghorman essentially becomes WWII Vichy France, with a secret resistance group that the Imperials are trying to manipulate, ever-escalating restrictions on the populace, and lies and propaganda everywhere. For fans of WWII spy and war stories, it should be familiar territory, but "Star Wars" fans may be taken by surprise.  This year "Andor" fully commits to creating serious, adult-oriented stories set in this universe that really get into the darker, unromantic parts of fighting a war.  Nearly all the main characters have to grapple with the cost of doing the right thing, sacrificing their safety, personal relationships, and eventually all hope of living normal lives.  Some of the material is not only dark, but downright grim.

This also means a string of dialogue-heavy episodes that don't follow the template of your usual action show.  There's a lot of genre-hopping from political thriller to dystopian drama to dinner with Eedy Karn (Kathryn Hunter), the most terrifying mother in the galaxy.  I like that we get to spend time with characters like Syril and Dedra off the clock, and there's an unexpectedly touching episode entirely about Kleya and Luthen's relationship late in the series.  As for Cassian, the closer he gets to "Rogue One," the more he feels like a mythic figure - a Forrest Gump-like character who keeps witnessing all the big inflection points leading up to the war.  However, there's a cost to being that figure, and Cassian and Bix's relationship becomes increasingly bittersweet to follow.  And as harsh as creator Tony Gilroy is to his title character, the contrasting stories of the Imperials are even more gutting.  The Empire is merciless to the rebels, but treats their own just as badly.    

The budget for this season of "Andor" was reduced considerably, but the show still looks fantastic.  Most of the action on Ghorman takes place in one city set, for instance, but they get a lot of mileage out of it.  We hear a few more mentions of the Force this season, but there are still no jedi or lightsabers, and few aliens.  Droids, however, are a definite presence.  The Ghorman episodes feature the KX-unit droids, who are absolutely horrifying to see in action.  However, I think it's to the show's credit that I didn't miss much of the spectacle at all.  This is absolutely prestige television, and despite my own opinions on the intended audience for "Star Wars" media, there's no question that "Andor" is a fantastic new addition to the franchise and opens the door for more in this vein.      

It's very strange that we've got an episode of "Andor" that leads into an episode of "Star Wars Rebels," and bits of obscure lore from a '90s roleplaying game are now canon, but good TV is good TV.  Let's hope Disney is willing to take more risks with "Star Wars" like this is the future.  

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Thank Goodness for "Sinners"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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"Daredevil: Born Again," Year One

Spoilers for the first episode ahead.

The new "Daredevil" series on Disney+ is decent.  Despite all the chaos happening behind the scenes with showrunners being replaced and part of the season retooled, the resulting nine episodes that debuted on the service earlier this year are a perfectly acceptable continuation of the Netflix show created by Drew Goddard.  However, it's not the same by any means.  The first episode immediately breaks the old formula and sets up a changed version of Charlie Cox's Matt Murdock operating without his old support network.

The biggest problem with "Born Again" is that it decided to ditch Foggy and Karen, in favor of a new group of characters that are difficult to care about.  Murdock has a new girlfriend, therapist Heather Glenn (Margarita Levieva), who is boring and easy to ignore.  He starts a new law firm with a new partner, Kirsten McDuffie (Nikki M. James), who is even more of a non-entity.  These are perfunctory attempts to show that Murdock still has some semblance of a personal life, except that nobody buys for a minute that these are people that anybody should be very invested in.  His arc this season is all about getting over the traumatic events of the premiere that have made him swear off ever becoming Daredevil again.  We know, of course, that he'll break this promise, because he still lives and practices law in crime-ridden New York City, which has a new mayor - and surprise!  It's Wilson Fisk.

Fisk has the more successful storyline this year, struggling to navigate the world of politics and avoid his own worst impulses.  His marriage to his beloved Vanessa has hit a rough patch.  There are some new flunkies around him, including a slimy up-and-comer named Daniel Blake (Michael Gandolfini).  Inevitably, however, he winds up employing all his old tactics to consolidate his power.  This includes putting together an anti-vigilante task force of loyal thugs, who target some of our favorite local heroes.  "Daredevil: Born Again" keeps its head above water because Murdock and Fisk are still both very compelling characters, and the show is pretty good about giving them both compelling things to do.  You can see some of the indecision about the show's new direction in the chaotic story structure.  Some episodes are stand-alone and feel like part of a network procedural.  Others are more tightly serialized, including episodes about a serial killer, Muse (Hunter Doohan), and Murdock representing another vigilante, Hector Ayala (Kamar de los Reyes).  

Anyone worried that airing on Disney+ would mean a watered down version of "Daredevil" should have their fears assuaged by the amount of violence in the first episode.  This is a very adult series, despite a few loose connections to the more family-friendly parts of the MCU.  I don't think it's saying too much to confirm that Jon Bernthal is still around as The Punisher.  The fights are still bloody, and some of the villains are particularly brutal.  There's a graphic killing in the finale that wouldn't be out of place in a horror movie.  Having Disney's resources ensures that the production values are excellent, though the show doesn't do anything too stylistically ambitious.  Probably the only major difference from the Netflix "Daredevil" is the introduction of documentary style "man on the street" sequences, and these never really play into the actual plot of any episodes.     

It's been long enough since the original series that I don't mind too much that Disney has made major character adjustments.  A more cynical Murdock and media savvy Mayor Fisk feel like reasonable evolutions of these characters.  The new show is very uneven, understandably, but I like that the creators ultimately decided to stick with darker, more mature storylines and a bleaker, meaner version of New York.  I also like the greater degree of experimentation that means there's room for the one-off episodes like the one with Murdock caught up in a bank heist.  I don't think that "Born Again" is as good as the best of the Netflix series, but it's good enough that I'll keep watching and hoping that the show can straighten itself out a little more for next season.  

And I find myself very glad that there will be a next season.

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My Top Ten Episodes of 2014-2015

Below, find my top ten episodes for the 2014-2015 television season, in no particular order.  Minor spoilers ahead, except for the "Halt and Catch Fire" entry.  I couldn't figure out how to write about that one without giving away the ending.  

Black Mirror, "White Christmas" - The "Black Mirror" Christmas special is one of the darkest, meanest pieces of television that I have ever seen.  The feature length installment is actually a triptych of dystopian science fiction stories, each more soul-suckingly evil than the last.  The celebrity guest stars are great, especially John Hamm as the genial "cookie" torturer - the first of many in "Black Mirror" as it turns out.  It's hard to imagine that this was once expected to be the last episode of the show.  

Game of Thrones, "Mother's Mercy" - The finale of the fifth season of "Game of Thrones" delivers a great capper to a very mixed season.  Cersei's brutal punishment is the centerpiece, featuring a stunning performance from Lena Headey, and introducing most of us to Hannah Waddingham as the "Shame!" lady.  This is also the episode where Stannis Baratheon finally gets what's coming to him and we have the big Jon Snow cliffhanger - the resolution of which is arguably where the series jumped the shark.   

Fargo, "The Crocodile's Dilemma" - I had a tough time picking which episode out of this season to write about since the whole season is pretty rock solid, and I settled on the premiere.  The introduction of Martin Freeman as the slippery Lester Nygaard, and  Billy Bob Thornton as the show's devil figure Lorne Malvo is note perfect.  Even better, Noah Hawley and company do an excellent job of setting expectations for how a series inspired by and based on the film "Fargo" is actually going to function.

Inside Amy Schumer, "12 Angry Men Inside Amy Schumer" - Make what you will of the fact that I'm writing about the "Amy Schumer" episode that features relatively little of Amy Schumer.  However, the beautiful absurdity of having a dozen beloved character actors parodying "12 Angry Men" while rigorously debating over whether Schumer is hot enough to be on television is undeniable.  Paul Giamatti getting all worked up about "a reasonable chub" will live rent-free in my mind forever.  

Person of Interest, "If- Then-Else" - I love a good format-breaking episode, especially for shows that take themselves a little too seriously.  This is the closest that the usually straitlaced "Person of Interest" ever got to a comedic installment, as it is entirely composed of The Machine running different simulations of what to do during a particularly thorny crisis.  Some of the simulations take some significant liberties with reality.  Also, "Fortune Days" by The Glitch Mob has been in my regular playlist ever since.

Better Call Saul, "Pimento" - There are two sequences in this episode that stand out.  The first is HHM making preparations for Chuck's visit by turning off the electricity and confiscating phones, underlining the power and influence he still wields in spite of his condition.  And we watch him use this power to squeeze Jimmy out, stubbornly clinging to his old judgement of his brother's character.  The other sequence is Mike taking on the bodyguard job, because Mike being competent is so cool to watch.

Halt and Catch Fire, "Up Helly Aa" - The highlight of the first season is the big trade show showdown in Las Vegas.  We have multiple storylines paying off, a last minute crunch leading to betrayals and relationship upheavals, and that poignant reveal of the Apple Macintosh at the end, signalling that the world is about to change.  The episode feels like the whole season in miniature, but it all boils down to that look on Lee Pace's face when he realizes how much he gave up only for none of it to matter.  

Mad Men, "Lost Horizon" - Again, I had too many good choices from the last season of "Mad Men," but something about the liminal nature of "Lost Horizon" stuck with me.  Peggy and Roger hanging out together in the detritus of the firm, getting up to antics while the merger is being sorted out, hits a chord.  And then there's Don beginning his existential journey across the country, looking for his path forward, hitting another.  Everyone knows the end is in sight, but they're going on their own terms.    

Wolf Hall, "Master of Phantoms" - The finale of the "Wolf Hall" miniseries covers the downfall and execution of Anne Boleyn, which Thomas Cromwell played a significant role in.  Mark Rylance and Claire Foy are so good in their roles I can't think of them being played by anyone else.  Foy shifts from antagonist to victim perfectly.  You really didn't need the follow-up series, because Cromwell realizing his own folly at the moment of what should be his triumph is an entirely satisfactory ending already.  

Too Many Cooks - Can I call this an episode?  Who cares.  Everything on Adult Swim defies easy categorization.  All I know is that "Too Many Cooks" is a cultural moment that cannot be ignored.  It's a warped, weird piece of video insanity that probably goes on for too long, and is very much a product of its time.  The subject of the parody is increasingly obsolete.  And the best way to watch this - stumbling over a broadcast in the dead of night when you're half asleep - is also a vanishingly rare activity.

Honorable Mention

Over the Garden Wall

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"Chicken for Linda!" and "Louise by the Shore"

France has a long and storied history of producing interesting animated films.  I want to discuss two that I've only just gotten a chance to see - Chiara Malta and Sebastien Laudenbach's "Chicken for Linda!" and Jean-Francois Laguionie's "Louise by the Shore." 

First, we have "Chicken for Linda!" a rowdy, colorful, traditionally animated feature about a woman named Paulette (Clotilde Hesme) and her eight year-old daughter Linda (Melinée Leclerc).  Due to a family tragedy, there's been some difficulty in their relationship.  One day a misunderstanding causes Paulette to punish Linda for something she didn't do. To make it up to her, she promises to make Linda a beloved dish of chicken with peppers - but with a general strike going on it seems like it's impossible to buy any chicken.  Paulette is desperate, roping her sister Astrid (Laetitia Dosch) into the quest.  And a rookie police officer (Estéban).  And a truck driver (Patrick Pineau).  And a gaggle of Linda's friends and other neighborhood kids.  

I love the animation in "Chicken for Linda!"  The characters are drawn with black outlines and colored in with exactly one hue for each character.  Linda is yellow, Paulette is orange, their cat is bright purple, and a certain troublesome chicken is beet-red. Linda's friends come in sage green and chartreuse and violet.  This means you can easily track everyone on screen, no matter how crazy the action gets or how crowded the frame becomes.  And there is quite a crowd.  I was delighted to discover that "Chicken for Linda!" is an old fashioned slapstick comedy, full of chases and pratfalls and silliness.  The story has many unexpected twists and turns, and the cast keeps getting bigger and bigger as more people are drawn into the adventure.  And somehow there's room for everyone, even stressed out Astrid getting a song number about devouring sweets.  Even better, this is a comedy with heart, where the characters are messy and make lots of mistakes, but love and good food win the day.   

It's been a while since I've seen a proper film about community building - the kind that Preston Sturges or the Ealing Studios used to make.  Strangers meet in odd circumstances.  People from different walks of life connect and work toward a common goal.  Broken and damaged relationships get mended and renewed.  And of course the kids refuse to be left on the sidelines and try to fix the problem themselves.  "Chicken for Linda!" reminds me of how much I like these kinds of films, and is exactly the cinematic experience that I didn't know I needed this season.  It's a small and unassuming piece of animation full of exasperated women, befuddled men, riotous children, and poultry on the run.  And it's my favorite animated film I've seen in a long while.

Onwards.  You might know Jean-Francois Laguionie from  "The Painting," a lovely 2D/3D hybrid feature that was released in 2011.  His follow-up, "Louise by the Shore," is a much more slow-paced, modest effort rendered in simple traditional animation.  I found it very affecting.  We follow an elderly woman on holiday named Louise (Diane Dassigny), who misses her train and finds herself alone in a deserted seaside town during the off-season.  Resourceful and capable, Louise is soon building herself a new place of residence and exploring the shoreline, not ready to go home.  However, winter is coming and the weather is quickly turning bad.

The French title of the film is "Louise en Hiver," which translates as "Louise in Winter."  Here winter not only refers to the season but the stage of Louise's life that she is struggling to cope with.  The story is a metaphor for dealing with old age and everything that comes with it - loneliness, regret, and sometimes quickly changing circumstances.  As Louise explores her shoreline, she also takes trips into her memories of her girlhood and loved ones.  Hers is very nearly the only voice we hear in the film, usually through a grumpy, but tender inner monologue.  

Reality is a very fluid thing in "Louise by the Shore," with its dreamlike setting and unlikely premise.  Surely an entire town wouldn't be totally abandoned during the winter months, would it?  The painterly visuals and relatively lack of incident gives the film an existential air, but the atmosphere is light and the company is pleasant.  I don't know if I'm supposed to recognize Louise, but she's certainly a memorable personality, and I'm very glad that I got to spend seventy-odd minutes with her and her movie.       

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