Rated R for full-frontal kung-fu. Now, this descriptor alone should at least raise eyebrows. Nope. Whatever image you have in your head, shift your perspective. It's mildly horrifying. It's meant to be. Like, there aren't ninjas in this movie or anything. The guy shows off his sweet bow skills, Napoleon Dynamite style, using a shower curtain while naked. Also, there's just baby death all over this over. Really, tragedy strikes time and again. There's language. I mean, like...it's R.
DIRECTOR: Alfonso Cuarón I don't even know how to get this idea. It keeps coming back to this: I am a huge hypocrite when I watch movies. I decide that some movies are allowed to do things and other movies can't do that. Yeah, it's because I'm a shallow human being and I'll die, leaving behind no actual rules of film. Heck, this blog might be facing its death knells in the next year. I don't know. We'll see what happens. Roma is straight-up the most boring of the Academy Award Best Picture nominees. I had to turn it off the first time I tried watching it because I was fighting sleep so hard that I was hallucinating events that didn't happen in the movie. I honestly thought that there were Nazis in this movie because I kept drifting off. I was far more awake the second time I watched it. But by the end, I had to actually make myself uncomfortable so I could stay awake. It sounds like I really hated it. While I didn't love it, I still overall enjoyed it. That being said, I couldn't wait for this movie to be over. Yeah, that's not the best thing to say about a movie, let alone one that I claim that I really liked. Alfonso Cuarón keeps doing me solids by making me amazing movies. People who hated Gravity, you probably wanted to hate Gravity. I know that statement is overly confrontational, but the hate that Gravity got was silly. I had a really good time at that movie. But if Gravity is the really interesting movie that didn't have the substance of his other films, Roma is the opposite. Roma isn't at all fun, but it has substance all over that film. Part of the movie that gets me is the sheer amount of trauma that this one woman receives throughout the course of one movie. Analyzing Cleo is almost frustrating because there's a lot going on there. Now, I know that Yalitza Aparicio is up for an Academy Award for Best Actress. She's very good, especially considering that she isn't a trained actress. But I also want to say something that isn't really being addressed. Cleo is one emotion for most of the film. She is flat affect and responds to tragedy through stoicism. I know. That is phenomenal. But it also doesn't really show range. It works for Roma. She services the film phenomenally by maintaining that face through the entire film. But it's weird that she's up for Best Actress. But that's all on the side. I want to say that Cuarón is making a movie about the disparity of class on emotional maturity. SPOILER STUFF mainly because I'm figuring out my analysis as I write it. Cleo and Sofia are simultaneously going through these tough times simultaneously. Sofia's cross is obvious in all that she does. While she is not sharing her trauma, the fact that she is holding onto some deep secret is painted in everything that she does. She has the privilege to emote. From a dramatic irony perspective, we can easily read what Sofia is going through. But that is almost a luxury. We still sympathize with Sofia's tragedy because it is objectively terrible. Cuarón gives all these hints to what is happening with her. Heck, he doesn't even really try to hide the cause of her misery. It is central to her character. But I say this in comparison to Cleo, who is constantly meeting adversity with adversity, yet doesn't treat her trauma like a cross. The difference of the haves and have-nots are how they view their adversity. Sofia has to work to keep it together every day. She needs to worry about her kids and worries about her emotional health with everything that she does. If I knew Sofia, I would say that she carries her emotional baggage really well. She stays strong for the children, losing her cool only at the crippling moments. But to look at Cleo, she never really thinks about breaking down. From Cuarón's perspective, it looks like he's telling the theme of strength through poverty. But the end of the movie kind of shifts that entire idea. Cleo's breakdown in the car is very tempered, compared to what we see in Sofia. But her breakdown is the same. Roma doesn't really feel like a story advocating for the mental health field. I don't think even once do we see someone consider getting outside help to deal with all of these issues. But Cleo's flat affect is a mask for what she is feeling. It never feels like a dodge or a lie. But it actually feels like Cleo refuses to let these moments affect her. Like we see her handle these situations with seeming grace, I believe that Cleo believes the same thing about herself. Her trauma is brutal. Like, it's really brutal. I'm thinking back to some of these moments. It's weird that I think the movie is boring throughout because so much of the movie is steeped in really uncomfortable moments. Again, you see multiple dead babies throughout this movie. Cleo is capable of feeling happy because we see her happy. But these moments are almost there to serve as juxtaposition for the unhappiness that permeates this character's life. But Cleo is in desperate need for a support system, regardless of access to therapy. She has a friend and co-worker at the beginning of the movie, but she hardly plays a role in the grand scheme of the film. Instead, she finds herself with Sofia, who is not cruel to her. But she also separates herself from Cleo, who is always the hired help. But the father of her child is a complete psychopath. By the way, good job, Alfonso Cuarón, for creating one of the best hate-able characters I've seen in a while. I can't stop comparing him to Napoleon Dynamite. Imagine Napoleon Dynamite, but just the worst. The movie is called Roma, based on the neighborhood where it takes place. That's a bit confusing because I'm sure that Rome would come into play somehow, but that's besides the point. I've never seen a setting that adds to the trauma of the entire experience. That area of Mexico seems absolutely terrible. It's not like it's a matter of poverty, but Cuarón paints his locations with such detail that are overwhelming. In the course of the film, Cleo survives an earthquake that kills a baby, a forest fire, nearly getting hit by a car, pregnancy and abandonment, a stillborn child, nearly losing her charges to drowning in the course of one second, riots in the streets, a gun pointed at her, and more stuff that I can't even think of right now. Does God want her dead? It seems like very little of this stuff is Mexico stuff, shy of the riots. Rather, this all seems like she is Job. She is constantly taking abuse for only a few things that she had involvement in. The pregnancy thing you can give or take, but even that seems to be unforeseen circumstances because that guy seemed like a big dork, not an evil monster. Black-and-white doesn't make the movie boring. I really don't want anyone to be walking away from this thinking that I don't like monochromatic film. I love me black-and-white and Cuarón makes it work. But the movie almost feels like a neorealist Italian film with just insanely long cuts. If you had to say what a pretentious movie looked and felt like, Roma would probably fall into that category. Roma seems to be an attempt to make a movie like something out of yesteryear. It feels more like Umberto D with just an insane budget. I can't get over how many people are involved in every shot in this film. It's just thing after thing happening in every scene with the exception of the main character. Yeah, the movie should be named after its setting because the setting is doing a lot of the heavy lifting for the film. But the movie drags because of the painfully long edits and cuts. We really stay in the moment. But the thing that the long cut does is make us feel the repercussions of every decision. That what neorealistic Italy did and it works. But there are just times that I want the movie to move on and pick up some of the pace. It's not bad, by any means. The thing is, if Cuarón did decide to make shorter cuts for things, I don't know if the movie would have the emotional resonance that the movie does have at this point. It's a very solid film and it works as a whole. The second that the movie ended, I was super happy that I had seen it. It's very very good. It's just something that wouldn't necessarily scream Academy Awards to me. It does its job. It is a fancy pants movie and I love fancy pants movies. But this felt almost trying too hard. It is unforgiving and unsympathetic to its audience. But that gambit works in terms of how you leave the movie. I was genuinely moved by the end of the film. It's not perfect and I hope I don't have to watch it again any time soon. But for now, it did everything it needed to.
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Rated R for gore, questionable theological issues, discussions about abortion, violence, implied sexuality, and language. It's A24 and it is meant to be shocking. This one almost seems like it is trying too hard. There are real moments when it seems to be a real movie, but then is crushed by the expectations that the movie should somehow be offensive to people of faith. A well deserved R.
DIRECTOR: Paul Schrader Some movies were destined to throw you onto a rollercoaster of emotions. In this case, the rollercoaster consisted if I absolutely loved the movie or absolutely hated the movie. The first thing I thought when I ended the film is that I've never had a movie present such a great first and second acts and then completely botch the third act. I don't know if that is hyperbole by placing this one in a category all by itself, but it is up there on the list. Man, I loved the beginning so so much. I was ready to call a mulligan for not having seen this one earlier. Honestly, I don't think I would have watched it if it wasn't up for Best Screenplay. But then the movie just went completely downhill. I can't help but compare it to mother! for oh so many reasons. mother! wanted to do something complex and challenging. It wanted to be in your face and it didn't want to let go. But in the third act, the movie gets aggressive and lose all sense of subtlety. Part of this is preaching to the choice. Ironically, whenever a movie tries taking down religion or organized religion, it never really tries speaking to the faithful. Instead, it talks to those who are already against organized religion. I don't know if it is an anger thing or what, but the ends of these movies are completely over-the-top and incomprehensible. Film should challenge us. While I am a devout Catholic, I don't want to hide from art. Art should be challenging and good art has the power to change the world. I'm not going to watch things that are just going to confirmation bias me. First Reformed, from its very first trailer, looked like it was just going to be hitting those with faith with a stick. Okay, fine. Paul Schrader, famous for Taxi Driver, started really accomplishing something pretty impressive with the first two acts of his movie. Rather than simply screaming about how dumb the faithful were, Schrader takes the movie from a far more grounded perspective. Rather a direct attack on institutionalized religion (admittedly, mega churches are condemned pretty quickly), Schrader posits a question that we don't often address from a faith based community. I used to be annoyed by environmentalists. I blame Penn & Teller's Showtime show for this. I'm still not all rah-rah about the environment, which made the beginning of First Reformed a bit of a gut punch. Normally I don't love when characters just infodump through dialogue important philosophies, like I Heart Huckabees. But the dialogue between Reverend Toller and Michael is actually kind of illuminating. It dumps the narrative into a new aspect of the pro-life debate. I'm extremely pro-life. That's probably going to come up with a future review of RBG. Hearing Ethan Hawke argue life pretty well was encouraging. But I also sympathized with Michael. He's wrong, of course. But from his perspective, it's not that he is listing the handful of uncomfortable moments about abortion. Rather, he's afraid for the world. That's an interesting perspective on the whole thing. PG. Again, I'm the guy who will advocate for a G rating on lots of things. There's one thing that is slightly scary and that's Heffalumps and Woozles. But if you know your Winnie the Pooh (I can't claim to know A.A.Milne), Heffalumps and Woozles are imaginary. You are scaring yourself. Now, try explaining that to a four year old who doesn't know any better that Heffalumps and Woozles don't exist. Regardless, I think it should be a G rating. There's a quick shot of a war and a family member dies early in a montage. Still, PG.
DIRECTOR: Marc Forster I may have to change my tune on Marc Forster. See, I was one of the people who kind of liked Quantum of Solace. I knew that he made Monster's Ball and that he had a reputation as kind of an artsy director who took some more mainstream stuff in his ouvre. But a lot of this is in response to what people thought of Mary Poppins Returns. Apparently, everyone hated that movie and that my tastes are bananas. I'm really going to make people mad when I say that Christopher Robin...isn't that good. I'm not the kind of guy who takes a swing at Disney. Honestly, the folks at Disney have been crushing it for a while. Like, for a long while, the Disney people have been almost batting a thousand. But I don't think that a moving idea has felt more corporate than with Christopher Robin. This movie feels extremely reactionary. CineFix named Paddington 2 the best comedy of 2018 and that makes a weird amount of sense. The Paddington movies are absolutely some of the best family movies that I've seen for a long time. Guess what? They aren't made by Disney. Disney has one of the the OG adorable teddy bear characters. I completely see someone who is a higher up in the Disney eschelons wondering why they didn't make the Paddington movies first. So they hire this big shot director who makes things look amazing. That's what was going to separate them from the Paddington movies. The Disney movies were going to look better than those hobo Paddington movies (despite the fact that the Paddington movies are completely tonally perfect). The thing about Christopher Robin is that it is just bleak. Winnie the Pooh has always been kind of reserved. I'm glad that Disney didn't go for bombastic and pandering, but this movie is just sad and boring. I mean, it's not overly sad. But it is meant to make me cry. When I teach The Bicycle Thieves, I talk about how DiSica was concerned with telling a story. The tears are the product of that story being told. This story is flipped on that pyramid. The movie is checking off a lot of boxes that make a movie look sad. The pacing is at a snail's pace and things just kind of happen. Forster capitalizes on our nostalgia for Winnie the Pooh to drive a lot of the scenes. I wanted to be in love with Winnie the Pooh. I mean, I certainly like the Winnie the Pooh movies. They are fun and cute. But just showing me a live action Winnie the Pooh isn't going to do much for me. It just all feels so lazy when it comes down to it. Paddington and its sequel took a character that I didn't give a fig about and developed him into something that I find quite precious. It did the legwork and I now preach those movies. Christopher Robin took something that I had medium interest in and then kind of lost it. It's not like the movie is terrible or anything. It has huge third act problems and that's no good. Christopher Robin rests on a tired premise. There was absolutely nothing shocking about how this movie played out. I'm actually yawning right now listening to the music and writing about this movie. (Imagine trying to keep my kids on the couch while watching this. A nightmare, let me tell you.) The movie is Hook. Only Hook, as dated as it kind of is today, did it way better. Christopher Robin used to go on all these adventures. But since all children grow up and become adults, so too did Christopher Robin. The only difference that makes Christopher Robin kind of a punk is that he actually remembers and believes in all of his memories, to a certain extent. When Pooh shows up in his adult life, there isn't much of an adjustment period. He just kind of accepts this call to adventure. I just realized that I don't need to even use Hook as an example of the same story. I just reviewed Mary Poppins Returns last. I'm going to be using that story as the successful narrative, despite the fact that apparently I'm the only one who really liked it. I think we all get it. Adulthood has its fair share of responsibilities and we shouldn't forget our childhood. I'm not blaming Forster for the next problem because this seems to be a script issue more than anything else, but Christopher Robin's responsibilities are actually valid. In the Mary Poppins movies, the adults work obsessively to gain more money and that's because that's what adults do. But in Christopher Robin's case, he is responsible for people's jobs. This is such an odd choice because it makes him heroic. Is Winnie the Pooh and the members of the Hundred Acre Woods advocating for big business to wipe away the lower work force? Yeah, I know that Christopher Robin should be playing with his kid, but sometimes it actually matters that people work and work hard. His entire project is determining a way to cut down a budget by 15 or 20 percent to save people from getting fired. That makes his task quite noble. I think that Disney wanted Christopher Robin to have it both ways. They wanted him to be a hero and they wanted to have a lesson about the importance of being a kid. But Hook and Mary Poppins are about internal conflicts. That means the dynamic characters have to start off as bad guys and then become the good guys. The resolution of the movie is just hot trash. Robin's discovery of an idea that would save the company is phenomenally dumb and doesn't really work in any reality. A lot of people have to be open-minded to a hairbrained idea that is really just optimistic thinking. It actually had that moment where the protagonist looked at a piece of paper upside down and it all came together. But even the explanation of the upside down image is only tangentially related to the solution that was apparently staring him in the face the whole time. Yeah, it ties into the theme of the story, but in a way that is a bit of a stretch. No one really believes that would work, right? We are told that it would work, so it works. Boo and hiss. But Christopher Robin is not a failure as a whole. Hiring Marc Forster gets you two things: a weak story but a great look to a picture. Winnie the Pooh and the rest of the gang look absolutely fantastic, with the exception of Tigger. Tigger looks like he's going to die because he looks positively ancient. (Note for something off topic: I got bored writing this so I watched the Pet Semetary trailer. Nothing like a complete tonal shift to get you writing again.) But Forster does make an absolutely gorgeous movie. This movie is cinematic as all get out and I'm very impressed by almost any still in the movie. I have to say that I'm particularly impressed with his very simple interpretation of the Hundred Acre Wood. London, like Mexico, has a very repetitive shooting style. If Mexico always has a sepia filter over it, London is always slightly blue and foggy. Before I forget, I think a lot of the cast of the The Detectorists are in this movie. I should probably find out why. I don't exactly know what makes a Marc Forster movie stand out to me. If I had to guess a lot of it probably comes through in the edit. I think that Forster loves staying in the moment, letting this pace slow down to a casual heartbeat. Inside of that scene, he tends to linger on textural details, like just staring at a bedpost within Restoration Hardware. From a visual perspective, the movie is just butter. Again, I don't think he did a ton with London, considering that the films only action sequence takes place in London. But the movie is about finding childhood, so those moments of Ewan McGregor in nature is what the movie really needed. Since the movie is for visual effects at the Academy Awards, it does crush on that front. Nothing felt at all uncanny valley for me. The decision to focus more on how the animals are stuffed animals and sometimes imperfect is what works. Piglet, for example, has almost a halo of fur about him, showing his age and the fact that he was well kept for. That is the kind of detail that I really like. The animals have a history. I'm not quite sure where these characters have been for the past two or so decades that the film covers. I always thought that Winnie the Pooh characters were stuffed animals that he simply interacted with in the woods, not that they actually only existed in the Hundred Acre Woods. I guess I should have suspected that considering that they all have houses. But this is all arbitrary. The point is that the special effects look great and they should because it's up for an Academy Award. The movie is just blah to me. It both tries too hard in some elements while not putting the legwork in with other elements. I wanted to like it. But when I saw how bored my kids were getting, I then realized that I was pretty bored too. That didn't stop me from trying to convince my son that he had actually seen a good movie. I kept asking him what he liked most about the movie and he said he didn't like it. Yeah, maybe my opinion is influenced by my kids. But it should be. It's part of the viewing process for me. Besides, they have excellent tastes. PG and I'm really stretching to find out why. Mary Poppins Returns rides that line between live action and animation. I've stated in these analyses that the MPAA tends to make anything live action an automatic PG versus a G. There is one scary element, and that's the inclusion of the animated wolf. But this wolf is pretty tame compared to Disney villains of the past who have gotten a G rating. I think that the G rating is probably the most rare MPAA rating because this movie is remarkably mild when it comes to objectionable content. PG.
DIRECTOR: Rob Marshall There's nothing that is more daunting than writing about a movie that is pretty darned good. I know. My problems are the worst. I just asked a student who is hanging in my room what she thought about it and she thought it wasn't very Mary Poppins-y. See, that's what my entire analysis was going to be about. I loved how this movie felt like the most natural long-delayed sequel of all time. Sometimes I just want something positive and happy. With the wealth of kids' movies that I've looked at because of my kids, I do realize that they all feel the need to be somehow kind of edgey. There's usually a really scary villain. There has to be this downside to the whole narrative. The idea of rallying is somehow vital to all these stories. While Mary Poppins Returns has elements of those other kids' movies in it, this movie really feels more like the whimsical children's movies of yesteryear. Honestly, I have to give Rob Marshall so much credit for managing to take something that should seem very dated and make it fresh and exciting. We've owned Mary Poppins since my daughter was very young. I don't think that my wife was ever that jazzed to watch it. Immediately from seeing Mary Poppins Returns, she wanted to have another family movie night so we could watch it again. (I'm probably a bad person, but I had seen it recently enough that I did the dishes and cleaned the house.) Also, my list of to-do-reviews (I want to trademark that right now) has gotten offensively long with Oscar season. But tonally, Mary Poppins Returns is perfect. I don't think we realize how much has to go into making a tone perfect after a movie hadn't been ages since the last one in the series. Think about this. If you made a movie, completely unironically, to look like a dead style of film, who is going to see that? The closest thing that I can think of is The Artist, but that filmmaking is done tongue-in-cheek. The style of film for The Artist is a commentary on the narrative. Instead, Mary Poppins Returns is more of a method of making a movie without any sense of irony. This feels more of an appreciation for the style that the original Mary Poppins embraced. If you were being harsh, you could say that Mary Poppins Returns is copying a bit too much of the original film for the sake of nostalgia. When I watched The Force Awakens, that idea was first and foremost in my mind. But Mary Poppins Returns doesn't really pull that card. Instead, I was pretty well rapt within the narrative to ever consider that. Maybe it wasn't the narrative, but just the entire movie-going experience to even notice. I think Mary Poppins Returns has the benefit that we don't get movies like this very often. With an example like Star Wars, it was something that was a cultural icon that didn't have a lot of copycats until we were inundated by entry after entry that tried to capture the original spirit. Mary Poppins Returns has only the original film to really draw from. But that means I have to be a little critical as well. Remember, I absolutely loved loved loved loved loved the film, but there are analogues for each element of the original film. It may actually stop Returns from being a classic in its own right. The Meryl Streep family member was just the family member who floated while laughing. Bert was just replaced by Lin-Manuel Miranda's Jack. The children are now the parents. The bank and all of the little elements are just one-for-one the original moments. Yeah, it's The Force Awakens. But you know what? I really like The Force Awakens. The big changes, however, are the children and their attitudes towards life. The original Banks children were horribly behaved and Mary Poppins used magic and whimsy to keep them in line. In this case, we have the antithesis. The Banks children are already acting like adults and need to loosen up a little bit. That's pretty minor and even I can't justify it. But what I kind of learned from watching Mary Poppins Returns and its overall success is that Mary Poppins might be more of a template than a series of narratives. Mary Poppins services singing, dancing, and magic. And that's what Mary Poppins Returns stresses more than anything else. The music and dancing are absolutely phenomenal. The movie constantly stresses the joyful nature of the music. I suppose that any musical could be about just servicing the music. But the template that Mary Poppins provides services a very specific style of music and dancing. There is always the question of diagetic v. non-diagetic elements in a film. The characters of Mary Poppins, even at their baseline, live in a whimsical world. The admiral next door with his obsession with naval tradition is absurd. But there is a line in the sand when it comes to magic and whimsy and that's what Mary Poppins, the character, provides. I can see why Rob Marshall and the screenwriters played it a little safe, using the original film to outline the new one. Mary Poppins is not really about the narrative. It is important and the themes are fine; important, even. But the character takes front and center. What the original film provides is the means for Mary Poppins to cause adorable chaos in everyone's lives. You know what's really rad? The first question that I should have had I didn't even consider until the drive home was "How did Emily Blunt do?" It should be the first consideration. Mary Poppins, played by Julie Andrews, was simply iconic. How does someone fill that role so well. Yeah, people kind of flocked to see Lin-Manuel Miranda in a musical. That was a pretty safe bet. But Miranda has the benefit of filling the shoes of Dick Van Dyke's archetype without having to be the character of Burt. But Mary Poppins is Mary Poppins. That calls for something very specific. It's rude and fun at the same time. At no point did I consider Emily Blunt any more or less than the role. Now, how does one evaluate that? I mean, to a certain extent, Emily Blunt has to be doing an impression of Julie Andrews's performance, right? Actors always say when they fill the role of someone else's famously originated part that they are trying to find the soul of the character without doing an impression. The only exception was Donald Glover's Solo. But I think that Blunt takes it to the next level. She isn't exactly doing an impression, but there's never a moment of misunderstanding what Blunt's Poppins is about. It honestly seems like a continuation by the same person. It feels like an honest to goodness sequel and that's what I love about it. Marshall also deserves credit by having the setting build so well into this world. I'm especially thinking how well Blunt works in the animated sequence. Can I tell you how much I missed hand-drawn animation? It's oddly impressive how it worked in this one. I know it's a cheat, but I might actually like the animated sequence in Returns better than in the original, if nothing else but for the digital costuming that the characters wear. It's all very stunning. The other characters and casting jobs are fine. I'm always excited to see Ben Whishaw show up to play. But my favorite, and most bizarre choice, was David Warner to play the Admiral. I love when I see David Warner in things. It's odd to see him play old. As up-in-years as he is right now, he never seems to play geriatric. But he works in this role quite a bit. I kind of wish that we weren't spoiled about Dick Van Dyke's appearance. I honestly don't know how a 93 year old can still tap dance. If I survive to 93, I'm going to look...not great. Also, the addition of the cameo at the end confused me. She's great. She's absolutely stunning and everyone gasped when they saw her. But she wasn't in the original Mary Poppins. She's just in it because she's great. It's such a weird decision. Colin Firth, for some reason, is starting to play a bunch of bad guys. I don't know why it suits him so well. Perhaps it's the Star Wars element of being SO British. (Sorry, I keep tying Mary Poppins to Star Wars. It's not intentional.) But he does work like everyone in this film really works. I really loved Mary Poppins Returns. I don't care that I'm a grown man of 35. I don't care that most of my hair is gone. I don't even care that it is kind of a carbon copy of the original. It's a fun and pleasant movie. I had so much fun, that I wanted to look at everyone smiling with me. We don't really get completely innocent and fun movies anymore and Mary Poppins Returns offered a genuinely vulnerable movie with great music and great dancing. That's exactly what I wanted and that's exactly what I got. It looked pretty and that made me smile. The end. PG-13, which leaves me in a pickle. It's one of the few PG-13 Academy Award nominees that my class hasn't seen. I mean, I could show Black Panther. But this one, while not primarily focusing on Freddie Mercury's sexuality, has more than a few risque moments. Keeping up with all the other things that might be objectionable, there's language and drugs. But it is a rock biopic. I don't know what else could be expected out of this. PG-13.
DIRECTORS: Bryan Singer and Dexter Fletcher Oh man. I feel like I should be addressing the elephant in the room. I've been really skeptical about the Bryan Singer allegations in the past. Maybe because Bohemian Rhapsody has been such a public film with all of the awards and nominations, there has never been clearer information about the allegations against Mr. Singer. Similarly, he left the film for a while. Someone else directed a chunk of the film. This isn't listed on the IMDB page or even on the film. Dexter Fletcher took over when Singer was fired. I had to look this up just now. So I'm about to write about a movie that is constantly fighting to stay in the spotlight for its narrative when its behind the scenes drama seems to be outshining Freddie Mercury. My wife and I came out of this movie with the same opinion. It's a rock biopic. Rock biopics are such slam dunks because of the music. Maybe the rock biopic plays out as the perfect form of musical. It's music that we know and like. If you are seeing the Queen biopic, there's a good chance that you probably like Queen as a band. It hits on the same notes as a musical in terms of familiarity and being music driven, but it doesn't have the artificiality that many musicals have. Both musical and non-musical fans can jump on board. I mean, it's the best of both worlds. They manage to tick off a lot of boxes. But what happens when the subject's life isn't that interesting. I think Freddie Mercury is rad. But there's a real jump between being an interesting individual and having a structured narrative with an arc. Freddie Mercury was a tragic figure. There's a lot to weep about, but how much of that involved growth or major moments that really made him truly unique. I hate to say this because I enjoyed the film, but Bohemian Rhapsody just is the E! True Hollywood Story of every rock band that ever performed. It's Walk Hard. The problem with the rock biopic is that we know the stories. Like many other stories, Freddie Mercury knew that he had a gift despite the fact that he came from humble roots. The band forms, becomes extremely popular until the lead singer becomes overwhelmed with the rock and roll rockstyle, involving booze, drugs, and sexuality. He thinks himself greater than the sum of his parts, is bamboozled by the hangers on until he finally comes back to reunite the band. The only new element that Bohemian Rhapsody offers is Mercury's struggles with his homosexuality. It's a very well made movie and it's probably the best version of a Queen biopic. But is there anything special that couldn't be said for dozens of other people? I'm not sure I have that answer. Freddie Mercury was special. He led a remarkably complicated and trauma filled life. But I kept feeling like I'd seen this movie before. The term "Oscar bait" comes to mind a little bit. There are certain movies that we see that feel "Oscar-y" and sometimes, when you've seen that similar genre of Oscar bait other times, it loses its magic. Bohemian Rhapsody is a very good movie that suffers from the fact that there's nothing unique about the message. But then I should analyze it without the context of the Academy Awards. I don't care that it's Oscar bait, but it deserves an honest approach. Singer took a very straightforward approach to telling the story of Freddie Mercury. The movie presents itself as a biopic of Queen, but really the focus is on Mercury himself. It is such an odd choice to start the movie without Freddie's childhood, but it weirdly works. So much of his childhood defined him. By the time we meet him, although he is not in the band, he is the character of Mercury. He has the confidence and the character from moment one. Who is to say that is not something that he carried throughout his childhood, but it seemed like his Zoroastrian background should have colored his choices throughout life. Like many of these stories, rocker Freddie Mercury came from humble backgrounds. I keep hearing that idiom, but Bohemian Rhapsody really stresses what that means from a first generation American. I'm pretty sure that the movie addresses this, but Mercury fell into the category of vaguely ethnic. Often confused for being Pakistani, Mercury was the son of Zoroastrian immigrants. The movie paints his parents as almost bumpkins. I'm not talking about them being slow-witted, but simply being set in their quiet ways. It seemed like his parents were trying to stay off the radar while Mercury somehow knew that he was destined for greatness. I don't know if the movie means to tell the narrative, but Mercury kind of comes across as selfish. Often being confrontational, he constantly reminds his parents how their way of life was too quaint for anyone to completely embrace it. Without a look at his childhood, we don't really get to understand where all this animosity towards his parents comes from. This kind of runs in line with his homosexuality. The movie presents Mercury as someone who claims to be ignorant of his own sexuality. Sure, there are cultural motives to present as heterosexual, but it seems like Mercury believes that he is not gay. It could be chalked up that he places this persona on himself to avoid upsetting his parents, but the movie stresses otherwise. Mercury is constantly doing things to embarrass his parents, so the concept that this would be too much for them doesn't read clearly like that. Mercury has an arc, but he's never someone who has to grow into the Freddie Mercury we all seem to know. That personality was always there. The movie is criminally aware of itself. I use "criminally" because it seems to be breaking the rules of what makes a great biopic. But I kind of like that at times. I'm not saying every single choice works. But the meta narrative running throughout seems to work. I'm talking primarily of the casting of Mike Myers. Mike Myers kind of represents what most of the audience probably knew about Queen before this movie versus what true fans always expected out of a Queen docudrama. As such, and I suppose that this makes sense, but the entire film is scored by Queen songs. I mean, why would you stick someone else'e music in the movie. But then there also has to be tonal appropriateness. The movie's credits are over "Don't Stop Me Now", my favorite Queen song ever since it was used in Shaun of the Dead. But that means that we are treated to the works of Queen sometimes when they might not exactly move the soul in the way that they could. The soundtrack acts both as a tonal reminder of the events of the film, but also must serve the chronology of Queen. For example "Under Pressure" scores the scene of one of Freddie's big moments of break between him and the band. Chronologically, it fits. The lyrics are perfect. But in terms of sound, it doesn't really fit the events of the scene. I think I had the same concerns when I stress Moulin Rouge. The attempt to get the music to fit the narrative is a dangerous game. It works in Moulin Rouge, but it doesn't work in Across the Universe that is limited to only the works of The Beatles. Remember, one of the real draws to this is the music. It's a great excuse to listen to the Queen anthology, sung by Marc Martel. Yeah, I looked it up. Rami Malek doesn't sing, but that kind of makes sense because Freddie Mercury had a supernatural voice. So the music is awesome, but doesn't always fit the visuals attached to it. This stands true for the end, which is so long that it almost proves anti-climactic. The biggest draw for this movie is Rami Malek. I don't understand Rami Malek. I know him from Mr. Robot and that has tainted my understanding of who he is. Malek plays Mercury as a character. I don't know if we ever know who Mercury was during his downtime. But Malek finds this nice balance between the public persona of Freddie Mercury and the man who kind of seems out of control of his own feelings. While Bohemian Rhapsody is somewhat of a puff piece for Mercury, painting him as sympathetic mostly throughout, Malek gives him moments that show his fallible moments. I'm stressing primarily the relationship that Mercury had with his ex-wife. I commend the script writers for including this. It's really interesting to see what Mercury viewed as love. Bohemian Rhapsody shows that Mercury probably confused love and marriage with ownership. The movie leaves little doubt that Mercury loved his ex-wife, but was never sexually attracted to her. Rather, he was obsessed with the concept that everyone was obsessed with him. It's this nice juxtaposition between everyone looking at The Freddie Mercury Show and a lone man living in a big house as he stares up at the Bates house that he plants next door for his wife. It's this gilded cage that he makes for her and I do love this element. When I started this whole analysis, I didn't quite know what Bohemian Rhapsody offered that was different. I think the relationship between Mercury and his ex-wife might give Rhapsody its legs. He is so possessive that he almost becomes this Charles Foster Kane figure, powerful in all but the most rudimentary understanding of what makes the human heart function. I also really like the other bandmates. I know nothing of Queen except for the Queen Anthology box set I bought in college. But to see the other personalities compared to the extremely extroverted Freddie Mercury was refreshing. I imagine that it is difficult trying to play grounded when you are acting across from Rami Malek's Freddie Mercury, but they are interesting choices for performances. I wonder, because we just discussed this on the podcast about the Punisher, had the movie focused on the other members of Queen without Freddie Mercury. Mercury is this larger than life character, but the other members seem more human. There's something very humble about the other members of the band that is easier to watch. They go through real emotions and traumas and it isn't like watching a spectacle. The thing about watching Mercury react to all these trials is that we don't really know how his mind functions. He makes these grandiose choices, seeing the bandmates kind of brings the story back to center. I don't regret buying Bohemian Rhapsody. I actually really enjoyed it and wouldn't mind watching it again down the line. But I also don't think that Bohemian Rhapsody is offereing that amazing storytelling element that would give it a shot at Best Picture. It was quite the theatrical run that it had and it generated buzz, but mainly because it's fun to watch someone else sing Queen music well. Regardless, it's a good time, if not a great time. It seems to be the death throes of the Marvel Netflix shows. But your champions of pop culture still devoured it hungrily. The guys discuss the problematic politics and structure of The Punisher Season Two and try to bleep out the more common name for The Big Game...occasionally missing one or five.
http://literallyanything.net/blog/2019/2/5/literally-the-punisher-season-2 Rated R for all of the R stuff. This movie is extremely sexually explicit. Yorgos Lanthimos, whose name I no longer need to IMDB to spell, often tells kind of creepy stories. I don't know why I wasn't expecting it this time. There's also some injury done by a horse and everyone is generally cruel to one another. But if there is one takeaway for seeing this movie, it is extremely sexual. R.
DIRECTOR: Yorgos Lanthimos I wrote a real barn burner of a review for Ferris Bueller's Day Off and the only comment I got was about how ugly my postings look because I hit space twice after the period. So out of spite, there's a good chance that I might pepper this analysis with three or four spaces after the period. Boom. That's happening. I don't know why I was surprised by the sexuality in a Yorgos Lanthimos movie. I've now reviewed The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer. I was honestly just expecting weird as opposed to full on, over-the-top sexuality. But that made for an uncomfortable date night with my wife. I knew nothing about Queen Anne before this moment. I suppose all that I could really say that I know about Queen Anne at this point is what little I gleaned from quickly perusing some articles about what was factual within the film. That doesn't give me much, but I can at least look at the film from a narrative perspective. If you tried to do a film festival with movies with characters that are terrible to each other for the entire length of the film just from the last five to ten years, it would last weeks. I don't know why I'm getting a little tired of it. The Favourite is a pretty looking movie with absolutely phenomenal performances by all of the cast, but I just felt like I was dragged by a horse for the length of the film. It is bleak. People are terrible. Maybe that kind of attitude gets attention, but there's nothing soft of happy about the film. Possibly the smartest thing that Lanthimos does in the film is misdirect about the characters we are dealing with. Emma Stone's Abigail is not the archetype we thought we were dealing with. She's a completely different archetype and that makes for a little bit of fun when it comes to watching the movie as a whole. But I can't help but jump back to Dangerous Liasons or Cruel Intentions when watching this movie. This movie addresses sex as power. In the case of The Favourite, it is very literal. Sex actually grants women power with Queen Anne. As a theme, it is powerful if I haven't seen it a dozen times before. I know The Hollywood Reporter talks about how The Favourite takes on the #MeToo movement from a different perspective. I don't know. It seems like that is a convenient interpretation that only works because it addresses sex and power. If we wanted to address the #MeToo movement from the perspective of The Favourite, there would have to be some real blinders put on the entire debate. The women in this story are the ones in charge. Anne is the one holding all of the power. If I don't get to it later, Olivia Coleman is magnificent and completely deserves the Academy Award for her performance. But Anne doles out powers between Lady Sarah and Abigail based on favors that they perform for her. But she is almost ignorant of her power. I'm looking at the major players in the #MeToo scandals and those people are master manipulators. They seem to be people who are exclusively sexual. Rather, Sarah and Abigail see a lonely woman whom they exploit for their own personal gain. The power dynamic seems to be a complete shift. Lanthimos seems to have made something a little different from his typical faire. There's nothing surreal in this film. But he seems to be delving into the same emotions that he elicits out of his stranger films. This film could be considered non-fiction, but I'd sooner label it as historical fiction. The reason, besides the fact that I don't know what is real and what is piecemeal posturing, is that characters act outside of traditional reality. The Favourite, while being somewhat planted in history, exists in a world where characters speak their minds and act larger than life. Oh, trust me. it works. It makes the movie far more interesting than the typical narratives of those court intrigues and backstabbings. I suppose this voice makes the film something special. There's a scene. I'm sure those people who have seen the movie know the scene I'm about to talk about before I mention it. I'm talking about the dance number. Lanthimos has all these elements of historical reality and then completely subverts those elements with moments that remind you that this is a movie and that everything is a little bit absurd. I can only theorize what it actually means, but I am going to try my best to interpret. As intense as this movie gets, and it does get extremely intense, there are reminders about the absurdity and foolishness of everything that we are seeing. Lady Sarah holds onto power with the queen and demands that she is the only one who can make her feel valuable. I have a feeling that Sarah loves Anne in a very demented way. But Sarah has created a conflict of her own making. Everything that is making her miserable is because she chooses to be removed and cruel for a good portion of the movie. When she takes Abigail under her wing, her kindness is punished. But the story can be simplified in the sense that this is all about a relationship that has fundamentally broken. All of the physical pain and arrests are about a bad breakup. (I suppose that this could tie into #MeToo, but I've already addressed that.) Abigail has power and then continues to prod it and poke it until it hurts her back. Abigail's fears and mistakes come from the absurdity that people constantly want more and risk exposure at every turn. If I summarized this film , I could say that two women want to woo the queen so they can rise higher in society, causing tension with one another. That's a really simple plot. Like I said, it's absurd. But it never really feels all that cheap or simple. It actually feels, throughout the film, like this very deep and rich story. I think that's why it is necessary to have Lanthimos direction in this situation. His absurdity forces us to occasionally not take the film too seriously. There are painful moments throughout the film, but we aren't allowed to be completely beaten down by these moments. We have to realize that we are watching a film. For all the lovely tapestries and costume pieces, there are moments that remind us that we are back in the theater. It's Bertolt Brecht all over again. From a technical perspective, the movie is perfect. I never loved it. But there's no misstep that this movie makes. From a cinematography perspective, it is absolutely gorgeous. I mean, this is a pretty looking movie. I don't normally go for period pieces like this, but I couldn't help but marvel at the detail. When picking the image above, I didn't want an image of a closeup of someone's face. Most of the stills of this movie are absolutely gorgeous. But I love the complexity of the past shown here. Everything is intricate and everything is a museum piece. Yet, this is the gilded cage for Anne. Instead of pulling the scope outwards, which the movie teases every so often, it focuses on the minute. Go smaller, not bigger. This extends to the costumes and the set designs. Honestly, pause the movie if you get it on home video. A lot of the movie could be an amazing still. It's positively gorgeous. I'm reminded of Kubrick's work with Barry Lyndon (which I have yet to watch and I'm ashamed). The use of candle light and natural light makes a difference. I don't think that Lanthimos took it to Kubrickian levels, but the effect nonetheless is dazzling. I've already preached about the wonders that is Olivia Coleman, but I really want to get nitty gritty about the whole thing. I've loved Coleman in a lot of things she is in. I'm really glad that she is breaking out of those character roles that I typically see her in. I'm thinking of stuff like her role in Hot Fuzz. But since watching her on Broadchurch, I have rooted for her. She brings such levels to Anne. Anne is human. She is sovereign. She is mad. She is lonely. She is a mother. Golly, her work adding the mother elements to the character is painful to watch at times, especially how Abigail treats her children. I'm kind of shocked that she's up for Best Actress because I don't know if the narrative is actually Anne's. I'm tending to think that the story is Abigail's, but this is nitpicking. But then, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone are perfect in pairing with Coleman. I have loved Rachel Weisz since The Fountain. Emma Stone is also pretty perfect. But this movie seems to really push every character to a level that I haven't seen them do in a while. This movie looked like it was a challenge to perform for a lot of the movie. It's very impressive watching what these actresses get out of each scene. It is very, very technically brilliant performances. Stone's Abigail has so many levels. It's weird to say that Weisz's performance, which is stellar, is the weakest simply because I don't think that it has the same levels as the other characters'. I love writing during Oscar season. I was so bummed not to be able to strike while the iron was hot with the other films. I had this list of movies, unfortunately often less than stellar, that I had to review while they were fresh. But the reviews following will be all related to the Academy Awards. I love Oscar season. I know a lot of people just don't care, but it gives me an excuse to catch up on movies that will at least have some value. I hope to keep up with the list as best as I can. In a perfect world, I'll knock out all of them. But there are a few that just won't be available to me, regardless of my efforts. Still, The Favourite is a good start to a long list of very impressive films. A pretty uncomfortable PG-13. I host a film club at Villa and this was on the list. Man, 1986 was a time where you could comfortably drop the f-bomb and still get a PG-13 rating. I remembered that Ferris at one point was drawing a naked lady on his computer using Microsoft Paint. You see the main cast in their wet underwear and Cameron peeps on Sloan changing, but we're not involved in that. Also, it has an absolutely over-the-top moment of innuendo. Regardless, PG-13.
DIRECTOR: John Hughes What I'm about to write is pretty anecdotal. I remember either reading or hearing this somewhere, but I think that Ferris Bueller's Day Off might be one of the few movies that Roger Ebert or Leonard Maltin ever gave a perfect score. I was convinced that it was Roger Ebert because of the Chicago setting, but I also think that Leonard Maltin gave it the full five stars. Regardless, there's a good reason and I'm totally going to steal that logic for the basis for my analysis. Ferris Bueller's Day Off is one of those movies that I watched way too many times in high school. These were the halcyon days of watching the same fifteen to twenty movies on repeat. As a nerd who would one day grow into a nerd who would blog, I was convinced by society that Ferris Bueller was cool. I also imagined that his school was my school. My school was nothing like his school. I don't know why I was so ready to lie to myself about how school worked or how it looked like. Regardless, I wanted to be Ferris Bueller. That's probably not entirely accurate. I wanted to be friends with Ferris Bueller, because, like probably most bloggers, I was secretly Cameron Frye. I never had the relationship stuff with my parents. My parents weren't rich and didn't value objects over people. I was just really tightly strung. I had elements of Ferris Bueller, sure. I actually sang a song on a cafeteria table at one point. But no one can really relate to Ferris Bueller. Ferris Bueller is the fantasy. Considering that the movie posits Ferris Bueller as the protagonist, it actually isn't Ferris's story. Hughes designed Ferris Bueller's Day Off to be one the of the greatest misdirects in cinema history. Again, this insight is totally stolen, but I stand by it 100%. On the surface, this seems like a really superficial comedy about a kid trying not trying to get caught. You know, the teenage version of Baby's Day Out. But there's little doubt that Ferris is going to get caught. He's constantly encountering near misses, but the movie works because Ferris's confidence is contagious. He believes he's going to get out of it, so we know that he will. Rather, this story is about Cameron and the actual pressures of high school. I probably know a thousand Camerons. I know no Ferrises. The most confident person I know is still more of a Cameron than a Ferris. Cameron is someone who is constantly thinking of all of the struggles in front of him or her. I teach in a school of Camerons. Movies tend to tell us that high school is all about parties and good times. Rather, high school is constantly trying to keep you head above water while watching other people coast. As an adult, I can look back and think that other people weren't actually coasting, but it looked that way to me when I was in high school. Cameron has to be sick constantly just to get a moment to breathe out. In his situation, he was hiding from his parents and their expectations of him. But that simply suited the narrative. Cameron is the one who actually has a through line. Ferris Bueller is a round character, but he's completely static. He's probably one of the few examples of a round / static combination. But Cameron is dynamic and round. He is the character that is actually going through a journey throughout the story. Cameron's first scene in the film has him unable to move. He believes that he is dying and would like nothing more than to comply with that death. As the movie progresses, his key trait is that he is angry and resentful for having to confront life at gunpoint, per Ferris's demands. Watch him over the course of the movie and see how that changes. At one point, Cameron gets so on board that he claims that he "hasn't seen anything good today." He is so comfortable with what has happened that he can actually critique Ferris, albeit in a jokey-way. But then Hughes messes with the formula. He gives Cameron the best day of his life and then instantly confronts him with his worst fear. We have this internal conflict that is possibly the best confrontation between what is expected and what actually happens. Cameron melts down a little bit. Hughes keeps it a little cryptic how much Cameron is playing and how much of it is a real meltdown, but Cameron physically changes when he realizes that he has to confront his father about the car. Ferris can't really understand this. Ferris, as a static character, can only watch agape. The only change he can make is not know what to do. He offers solutions to Cameron at one point. The suggestion actually seems kind of plausible. The worst part about Ferris's suggestion on how to fix the car is that it is annoying to pull off. But old Cameron would have rushed headfirst into the protecting arms of Ferris. Instead, he kicks a car out of a building. It's absolutely great. There's this clear, physically verifiable change in Cameron when he murders his father. (I just came up with the Cameron murdering his father metaphor that I'm going to run with.) The car represents so much. GEEZ! My brain is breaking and I'm sure that Hughes never had this kind of insight into it. The car represents Cameron's father. It is this precious thing that his father adores. But look how much fun he has when he takes it out for a drive. He has the best day of his life. Instead, all these years, Cameron had to watch this car from a distance. He could have been close to his father had his father allowed him to do so. But instead, it took a day of breaking the rules to actually discover what his father had been hiding from him. The end implies that Cameron and his father will have a permanent break, but that's healthier than pretending everything is copacetic. Kicking the car out of the building is kicking his father out of his life. I wonder if the change happened in the museum. The museum sequence is one of my favorite scenes in cinema. Maybe it's a bit pretentious because it is meant to be. I'm actually listening to the score to that scene right now and I have the whole thing in my mind's eye. All of the characters make choices. We learn something about all of the characters in this moment. While Ferris is static, he is round. Taking the group to the museum to simply observe great works of art actually says a lot about his character. Ferris Bueller can easily be written off as a good-time-Charley. He does a lot of things that would be consistent with the party-guy archetype. But he doesn't want his day off to be fun. He wants it to be special. He wants to grow from it. Remember, Ferris has taken off of school nine times in that year alone. This day seems pretty darned special for him and his team. He is there as a friend and he's there as a date. I think this is the moment that he really believes that he wants to marry Sloan. Sloan also really solidifies one of her real character traits in this moment as well. It's interesting to see Ferris through someone's eyes who expects him to be great. There's no falsehood between the two of them, despite the fact that Ferris flirts with the girls at the end. (While I love the joke, it does remind us that Ferris doesn't grow much throughout the film.) The scene in the museum shows that she's not just along for the ride. She is loving everything presented to her. She's open and vulnerable constantly. She observes art from a point of appreciation. I don't want to overly tout the male protagonist at the sacrificial altar of Sloan Peterson, but I think she views Ferris in the same way that she views art. Sloan has the moment of true love in this story. She sees the great things that he does and doesn't view him as a celebrity. She views him as the god who chose her. This all seems a bit regressive and I'm not proud of this analysis, but there's something Superman-y and Lois Lane-y about the whole thing. Ferris is the god in the story and he chose Sloan. But Lois, in herself, doesn't allow herself to be led by the god around. She holds him accountable. She makes sure that he continues to be true to himself. That's Sloan. Then there's Cameron. I've said a lot about Cameron in this analysis and I could probably say more. But look at his face as he's analyzing Georges Seurat. It's so good that he's studying pointillism. He sees the ultimate significance and insignificance of every little dot. He is that dot. He is part of the picture, but no one will ever know that. He's in the shadow of Ferris Bueller. Ferris Bueller is not a dot. But Cameron is a dot, albeit an important dot. I love this movie so much. It's deep and I know that I've taken it deeper than the movie probably should have. It is genuinely funny. What John Hughes made here, and this is typical of Hughes himself, is something that works on a surface level as entertainment, while simultaneously offering truths about the human condition. We don't really get this in comedy that much anymore. Maybe some of this is touched upon in the works of Judd Apatow, but I feel like Hughes is far more sneaky than Apatow. Regardless, Ferris Bueller's Day Off is a work of genius. While I clenched up anytime something inappropriate happened, I noticed how the kids absolutely loved the film. It's oddly timeless, even though no high school was like that now or ever. |
Film is great. It can challenge us. It can entertain us. It can puzzle us. It can awaken us.
AuthorMr. H has watched an upsetting amount of movies. They bring him a level of joy that few things have achieved. Archives
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