Rated R for violence, I guess. There's some blood. People die. I do find it odd that a James Bond movie can have the same amount of violence (maybe a little less blood) and get a PG rating and Game of Death gets an R. There is some language in it, tame by almost any other generation. But it was 1978. Probably the most upsetting part is that you see Bruce Lee's real corpse in the movie. Yeah, that can mess you up.
DIRECTORS: Robert Clouse and Bruce Lee "Wait...that's this movie?" I wasn't prepped guys. I mean, I knew that Bruce Lee died young. I knew that. I never really went into the details about how Bruce Lee died. I never watched Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story. None of that. I knew that he died young. I knew that there were a lot of people who tried to copy his entire persona. What I didn't really realize was that the final Bruce Lee movie was cobbled together from scraps of early footage coupled with scenes from other movies. I mean, I'm late coming to the party for this one (and I'm really trying not to be disrespectful!), but the whole connection between Bruce Lee's death and Brandon Lee's death? Listen, I hate conspiracy theories, but goodness me. They even talk about the thing that would kill Brandon Lee in Game of Death. It's very upsetting. But to finsh both movies using doubles mired in shadow? Come on. That's a bit on the nose, isn't it? I wonder what the original Game of Death looked like. Honestly, I could probably find out pretty darned easily. The Criterion box has two supplemental discs on it where I'm sure it's discussed in depth. I could do a quick Google search. I just know that it couldn't have been the movie I watched. First of all, the whole thing is just morbid. That was his real funeral footage, guys. There's a line between honoring Bruce Lee, the legend and getting the coverage you want using his actual, real-life corpse. Also, what's with the gravedigging scene? He really died. I don't get the vibe that "this is what Bruce would have wanted." Knowing that the film industry would try to capitalize on the hole left behind by Bruce Lee's passing, none of this comes across as the tribute that elements of this movie are pushing for. Like, the end is nice, having Bruce Lee's greatest moments. Putting a little bit more money into the movie by hiring John Barry to do the soundtrack, that's pretty nice. But everything else seems to be marketing this movie as "The Last Chance to See Bruce Lee." It's all a bit much. It's almost hard talking about this movie because it almost has that kind of improvised quality to the film. It reads like everyone's just agreeing to a communal lie about what this movie was about. Everything is built around existing footage. Honestly, there's some Plan 9 from Outer Space stuff happening around Bela Lugosi with this movie. Admittedly, Lee filmed a lot more and he filmed some pivotal sequences in this movie. It's just that the stuff that they chose to work around reads as...kind of gross? Game of Death plays with the idea that Bruce Lee fakes his own death after his face is destroyed by a bullet. They use the Fist of Fury ending (you know, the really memorable one?) and shoot him in the face. This leads to an interesting plot device. Like, what if Bruce Lee had to conceal his identity to get revenge on the people who tried to kill him? It's not a bad plot. There's almost an element of You Only Live Twice to the movie, which is kind of cool. But the movie A) doesn't have a convincing Bruce Lee body double and B) abandons the conceit of the film when they actually have Bruce Lee-filmed scenes. What we kind of get at the end is "Why did we spend so much time talking about being disguised and having Ann go through hell if we were just going to abandon the whole disguise thing?" I know. I'm being unfair. All of these choices exist because we need to cover up the fact that Bruce Lee didn't film a lot of the movie. But that's all you really have to criticize. The movie is about the disguises. And we only really get two disguises. We get bearded Bruce Lee (which is just straight up silly the fact that Dr. Land doesn't figure out that someone with very specific Kung Fu moves and noises isn't the guy who just did that in movies forever and he just killed that dude) and full old-man makeup. That's it. The central point of the movie was this guy who could be anyone and we get two characters? It's funny. Dr. Land didn't figure out that Billy Lo was after him until the old man sequence happened. When Billy Lo literally attacked him with a beard, it was "Who is that bearded man and what does he want with me?" But Carl is beaten in isolation and he's like, "Billy Lo!" The funny thing is, there was a time in my life that I would have lost it over this movie. It would have been my movie. I'm currently listening to the John Barry soundtrack and it is very that era of James Bond that is so good. But the movie opens borderline as a James Bond movie. That opening sequence is stealing from Maurice Binder pretty hard. The opening of the movie mind has well been The Man with the Golden Gun. I'm not saying that it is a bad thing. If you were trying to sell me on a movie that absolutely should not exist, gussying it up like a '70s James Bond movie is the smartest move that you could make. Because elements of this movie are sick. For all of the triage surgery that this movie is doing to cobble it together, it's pretty amazingly filmed. Sure, every time Billy Lo is in a sequence, it's shot from a wide angle with something obscuring the double's face. The dub? Oh my, the dub does a bigger job of highlighting the fact that Bruce Lee isn't talking. Like, Bruce Lee movies have always been criticized for their dubs of Lee. Am I crazy for thinking that Enter the Dragon had Lee do his own voice, but just minimal dialogue? Also, I know it was 1978. Standards were different. But would it have been such a crime to find someone who could sound like Bruce Lee? Soundalikes exist for everything nowadays. Yeah, they aren't perfect. But going that hard in to midwestern for Bruce Lee was silly. It's just absurd. The biggest question: Is Game of Death watchable? Yeah. I'll even go as far as to say that it's kind of fun. Here's the thing. Bruce Lee movies are excuses to watch Bruce Lee do some rad kung fu. The stories are borderline always the same. This one feels a bit more tasteless than I thought it was going to be. I think that the filmmakers probably lied to themselves and said that they were making something that was going to be a lasting tribute to this great martial artist. But it's just a Bruce Lee movie that you still have to wait through a weak plot to get to Bruce Lee beating everyone else up. (Side note: Billy Lo gets hilariously better at kung fu as the movie progresses. I know he held back for Ann in the beginning, but he shouldn't be THAT much better by the end of the movie. Also, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was hilariously massive and it's worth the watch just to have the Jaws comparison that this James Bond send up needed.) It's fun. I can't deny that it's fun. But also, man, should this movie have been made? No. This is just capitalizing on death. Not rated, but the movie does get pretty bleak. I mean, it's a Bergman movie. The movie embraces the concept of adultery and runs with it. Some of the fallout involves suicide attempts and a game of Russian Roulette. And this is in a comedy. It's all very dour and bleak. It's a dark comedy, emphasis on "dark".
DIRECTOR: Ingmar Bergman I've officially started my 39 film Bergman run. Again, there are so many feelings about owning the Bergman box set. A guy I worked with at the video store loved Ozu, but admitted that he'd never have a handle on Ozu. There was a tinge of mournfulness and shame with that comment because he felt like he was undeserving of watching Ozu. I'm kind of the same way about Bergman. For the most part, I enjoy Bergman movies. But I also don't understand them at all. There's also an irresponsibility on my part assuming that I can understand them or feel like I have the right to critique them, even if I acknowledge that I'm writing exclusively about my feelings in regards to the movie. Still, this box set is one of the most beautiful things that I own. I'm paradoxically enthusiastic and overwhelmed by this endeavor. I'm kind of glad that they gave us Smiles of a Summer Night to start the whole Bergman fiasco. Criterion gives a non-chronological look at his entire ouevre, which is kind of fun. Smiles of a Summer Night is a good start to Bergman, especially if you don't know much about the man. Bergman can get dense. It's not that Smiles of a Summer Night is simplistic. If anything, it's potentially the most complex romantic comedy I can think of. It's just...easier? I'm still going to get it wrong. Part of it is that Ingmar Bergman, in his very criticism of the aristocracy, frustrates me with the re-definition of love. Here's all of th ways that I'm a hypocrite. A Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare's treatise on the fickleness of love, is one of my favorite plays. I'm obsessed with Ernst Lubitsch, who cut his teeth on taking down the upper crust in his romantic comedies. Yet, with Bergman, I find myself depressed with his take on how fickle love is amongst the financially well-off. Part of that comes from the need to apply the story to myself. In Smiles, no one is in love with the person that they are with. Instead, true romance almost seems to stem out of the forbidden and the hunt for something greater. It's a real bummer. I mean, this is a comedy, but this is a Bergman romantic comedy. Before I go too deep into some of the takes on love, I have to voice my frustration that Bergman himself labels this movie a romantic comedy. It's not that it's not funny. (Okay, it's not all that funny.) It's just that some of Bergman's dramas are funnier than this movie. Bergman, as dour as the man gets, tells jokes. They're great jokes. Smiles of a Summer Night is a comedy in the precepts definition of comedy. It ends in weddings. Coupled with the way that the film is shot compared to a lot of the other Bergman outings, I get why it is sold as a comedy. But the jokes honestly don't really start until the final act and even then...a chuckle. Okay, back to the idea of not loving the one you are with. I don't love the assumptions that the conflict in romantic movies involves already being in a relationship with someone. I don't know why there has to be a physical external manifestation of an internal conflict when we could just point out that characters have reserves about relationships. Bergman takes it to a new level though. Every relationship in Smiles is almost a parody of what rom-com relationships come from. Egerman centers the film and he's the most unlikable character in the movie. He starts with a truly sympathetic trait. He's a widower and that's already enough to start a rom-com. But every thing that Egerman does is incredibly frustrating. (I tend to not like when people complain about none of the characters being likable and I'm doing the same thing.) Egerman has a wife far too young and innocent for him. He doesn't seem to love her so much as treats her like an acquired prize. She's the trophy wife, a younger woman for an older man. Then we find out that Egerman has been sleeping around for a significantly longer time than we've been aware of. After all, there's the implication that he has a child that he was unaware of. The oddity of Egerman's conflict doesn't come from the fact that he might lose the much more moral woman --his wife --to a woman who is also sleeping around. The issue comes from the fact that his mistress is being also treated like a possession by another, more toxic married man. Like, I get it. Bergman isn't an idiot. This is all meticulously set up to be frustrating. It doesn't change the fact that I'm incredibly frustrated with the whole thing. But the kicker comes from the fact that no one treats each other properly. First of all, Egerman doesn't sleep with his wife Anne for no reason outside of the fact that he thinks that he is preserving her innocence. Meanwhile, there's the issue with his son. Bergman isn't exactly subtle about his relationship with the religious. I would say that Henrik is pitiable and sympathetic, but that's not really true. My least favorite character in the movie is Henrik. Henrik is a seminarian, but there isn't anything fundamentally religious about him. Again, Bergman isn't an idiot. He's more commenting on the social respect that the clergy get in society. But Henrik is this Harry Osborn kind of guy. He's mad about everything, but can't vocalize his wants and desires in a reasonable way. It makes it all really frustrating that every woman is fighting for these bottom-feeding men. That might be where the movie loses me. The movie spoon-feeds the relationships that Bergman is trying to set up. Egerman is going to end up with his mistress Desiree (a name that's a bit on the nose), Malcolm (who've I've not even mentioned) ends up with his wife, Henrik ends up with Anne (his stepmother who has not consummated her relationship with her husband). But none of these men deserve anything. They're all fundamentally unlikable. The only character who is mildly likable is Anne, but that kind of stops when we find out that she's attracted to her stepson, who for the sake of legality, is an adult and probably closer in age to herself than she is to her husband. But honestly, Anne and Henrik have the most shippable relationship. AND I GET IT! This isn't about shipping people. But does Bergman need to go this hard into a story about summer romances. I honestly don't like any of them. The world is a selfish place full of selfish people. I don't necessarily need to hear that all of the time from Bergman. Can I be really honest? This all might be coming from a conflict between expectations and acceptance, but in a way, this is the bleakest Bergman story. One thing that I always like about Bergman is that he can present the most dour and upsetting stories. But there are moments where my heart is warmed. While humanity and joy are fleeting in other stories, they are present. Even in The Seventh Seal, there are a lot of tender moments. Even the actual chess game, as much as it is a potential game of fate, the joy of playing Death himself is seen in the protagonist. This story? Everything is misery. People are cruel to each other because they are selfish. I don't know if that's the world I want for an entire film. No one really cares about another person, with the exception of Anne. But even with Anne, it comes across as a little bit pathetic. And it's not that I even full on disliked Smiles of a Summer Night. It all comes back to the fact that I wanted something joyful. Not joyful throughout. But joyful regardless. My stomach can't let go of the fact that no one in this story is going to end up truly happy. The only people who will experience any kind of joy are the people who are apathetic to their relationships with others. The maid that Henrik loses his virginity to, she's so laissez-faire that it almost seems like an act. What fun is that? Nothing really has meaning? I don't know. I know that I'm begging for an Ingmar Bergman movie to be lighter. But I just want some happiness. I'm so sorry that I'm going to be writing about these movies a lot. Again, they are great films. But I would like to think that I'm more optimistic than this. PG, but that's probably for not the director's cut. There's is straight up full nudity in this movie. Also coupled with the fact that the movie is about drunkeness, debauchery, and all kinds of ill-behavior. But I do love that, technically, Amadeus has the same MPAA rating as Wonka, a movie I desperately tried to find something inappropriate to put in this section.
DIRECTOR: Milos Forman Is Milos Forman one of the greatest directors that ever lived? Honestly, how does Amadeus hit so hard? I would call Amadeus a fluke, but One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is one of my favorite movies ever. I've seen Amadeus before and was impressed by it then. But watching it this time? Oh my goodness. I didn't remember how good this movie was. And a lot of that comes from my watching of The Prestige. The Prestige, upon second viewing, knocked my socks off. It was significantly better than I remember it being. The ending still disappointed me a bit, but I wrote it off as something that I couldn't do any better. I didn't have a better ending than what Nolan presented to me and so I made peace with the idea that The Prestige is better in existence with an imperfect ending than not existing at all. But Amadeus does The Prestige, but actually sticks every single moment in the movie on such a perfect and nuanced level that I'll probably have a hard time talking about it. If you are one to pray for something that exists outside of space and time, pray that I have the words to write about a movie that, at its core, is fundamentally about a perversion of faith. There's something really appealing about a distilled emotion put into film. Now, before people lose their minds, I understand that Amadeus is sooner historical fiction than it is "based on a true story." From what I understand, Salieri and Mozart weren't from the same era. The play / movie shoves the two into each other's atmospheres to create a sense of intense tension. But Amadeus lives and thrives on the notion that one character is constantly at war with his own vices until he actively feeds that vice. When I was looking for a picture above, I regret that I didn't have F. Murray Abraham as Salieri. Nothing had a high enough resolution to put in that thing that maintained the proper aspect ratio. I'm not saying that Tom Hulce didn't deliver. He absolutely crushed that role. But the protagonist of this story is Salieri. Again, "protagonist" doesn't mean "hero". Salieri is absolutely not heroic, nor does he pretend to be. It's clearly stated in the fact that Salieri's framing device is that of a confession that eventually gets perverted into an opportunity to brag about his sin. Forman doesn't allow the emotion conveyed to just be jealousy. When I was growing up, I remember a lot of my religion class (ahem...theology classes) mentioned that pride is the greatest sin. Intellectually, I understood what was meant by pride. "Excessive pride." It's the devil's number one sin. But part of that always rubbed me the wrong way. It seemed so Puritanical. I always thought that a fear of pride led to horrible self-esteem and suicides. But Amadeus exhibits exactly the kind of pride that would be considered sinful. Salieri's sin of pride and jealousy comes from the notion that God somehow owes Salieri. It makes sense. Salieri, for all of his religious upbringing and devotion, still has that understanding of faith as a child. It makes sense. I'm not saying I have faith figured out. If anything, my faith life is a mess and I never understand what's going on with it. But I do know that sometimes we have a very transactional relationship with faith. It's kind of why I always get a little nervous when I see people who have a strong sense of faith, but a contentious relationship with the necessary sense of reason to contrast. From Salieri's persective, he's done everything right. The moment that his father dies after his prayers is a formative moment. From that child's perspective, God had favored Salieri. He brought his wrath to an unholy situation and removed the obstacle that would have made Salieri God's instrument. That kid's entire fate was written for him in that moment. As long as Salieri pushed harder and harder, God would make him the greatest composer that ever lived. In any frame of reference, he couldn't imagine not only not being the greatest composer that ever lived, but he wasn't even the greatest composer in the room. There's something incredible depressing about being second best. I had the same conversation with God. (It's funny, because when I had that conversation in prayer, I honestly thought that I was the second best option to a lot of people. Now I'm lucky to make a leaderboard.) Golly, when I first saw this movie all those years ago, I must have raised some red flags about faith. Part of what makes Amadeus so compelling is that Salieri, while being completely in the wrong, is so sympathetic when it comes to his views on God. If anything, he's a really nuanced criticism of the relationship that people have with God. The scene where he burns the crucifix is not the loss of faith that it normally would read in most movies. If anything, it's a perverted solidification of faith because it is an open declaration of war on God. I'm sure that most people would consider atheism to be a war on God. But Salieri is something far more interesting in that moment. Salieri sees himself as Job. God has teased him and tortured him by putting Mozart in his circle of influence. Listen, I've only seen the director's cut. I imagine the scene where he manipulates Mozart's wife into offering herself to him is such a troubling scene. It's so upsetting that I can't believe that this movie could exist in a PG version. But it is in this moment, where in earnest prayer, he begs for God to write music through him. There's a poem by Edward Taylor (I think!) called "Huswifery". I just know it very well because I teach it in my American literature class. In that poem, Taylor asks God to make Taylor a vessel for God's creation. It's more in the form of a prayer, but it is this touching and earnest embracing of faith that Christians are supposed to have. Salieri's prayer is a parallel prayer to Taylor's. But the criticial difference is that Taylor claims that anything created through his art is exclusively the creation of God, Salieri can't divorce his pride from God's creation. This scene, by the way, also makes me deep dive into what talent actually is. As a guy who has basically become obsessed with the humanities, in the limited scale I've influenced anything with my creations, I have to categorize myself in an artist's community. I like it when people like what I create. It builds me up. Heck, I like it when people just read what I write, blog or other. But there's very little that I did to make me exceptional. To a certain extent, I'm working towards Malcolm Gladwell's 10,000 hour rule, but that's all based on talent in conjunction with effort. Salieri's prayer in that moment is that greedy tie to both accept that God is the author of his creations, but the pride that he cannot be the vessel that enters it into this world. Part of Salieri's complexity also comes from the fact that he knows he is both the hero and the villain of the piece. Mozart's behavior throughout the piece screams perversion. It seems like the devil is using God's notes to advance his own place in society. The offense, to a certain extent for Salieri, is that he's trying to bring back glorious music to divine origins. But so much of the film has Salieri pulling his head out of his butt and seeing Mozart for the man that he is. If sin is a choice to do the evil, Salieri continues to sin throughout. He attends all of Mozart's performances even though he is the one stymying his success. He confesses to Mozart that his music is the greatest music ever created. Often, there's a sense of love for this man. But none of that trumps his own skewed sense of morality and pride. It's a lot to take in. Honestly, Amadeus may be the greatest deep dive into characterization I've ever seen. I know, it mirrors the words that Salieri uses when describing Mozart's music. But F. Murray Abraham was given an absolute cracker of a character to unpack in this story and absolutely delivers. Today, his reputation is probably deservedly tarnished. But in this moment in time, Abraham gave us one of the greatest character studies of all time. It's honestly one of the greatest roles in history and that movie 1000% holds up. PG, but the only real reason that it isn't G is because it's live action. Like all family films, there's a little bit of peril for the protagonists. The villains, rival chocolatiers, often try to kill Willy Wonka. Also, there's just a handful of bad guys in the movie, but nothing that is honestly taken with a grain of reality. Still, live action movies tend to be PG at bare minimum.
DIRECTOR: Paul King My goodness, I wanted to like this movie. We have to establish some truths about me. While I like the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory because I have a soul, it's not like the character of Willy Wonka is all that precious to me. I didn't care for the Tim Burton / Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. But Wonka, somehow, has become something of a pillar of cinematic canon. Other fact about me? I like Timothee Chalamet because I think he's a talented actor, but I also think that casting tends to default to him too often. This is going to play a part in my dislike for this movie. Just know, as I stated earlier, that I really wanted to like this movie. I never thought it was going to be great. From the first images, I thought that Wonka was just going to be a movie that might have been aesthetically pleasing, but ultimately lacking any real charm of the original film. Again, I wanted to be wrong. I genuinely got excited when it hit Max because I knew that I would have a chance to watch it with the kids. I also knew that Paul King had given us some of the best family friendly films of recent history and that, at worst, I'd get a solid Paul King movie. Um...Wonka might have been worse than I thought when I started writing this. The biggest problem of Wonka is that it's just a movie. It's one of the movies of all time. This movie was hyped up for a while. Honestly, I don't know if that we ever really needed a Willy Wonka origin story. Much like the James Franco prequel to The Wizard of Oz named Oz, the Great and Powerful, we got an origin story that no one was really asking for. Origin stories are tough. Most of the time, they aren't needed. I'm not a fan of the Star Wars prequels. Solo: A Star Wars Story is fun, but completely unnecessary. Heck, even Wicked, I like the music and the spectacle...but the story? Meh. Maleficent, same deal. Honestly, Willy Wonka works better as the man behind the curtain. We discover all that we need to about the character from the original film. He's a recluse whose enigmatic lifestyle is suited only for himself. Part of the reality of the original film is that Willy Wonka is the quirky exception to a fairly mundane world. Instead, Wonka offers a Roald Dahl fever dream where everyone is just a little bit Willy Wonka and Willy Wonka is the most joyful chocolatier that ever lived. This is me saying what everyone else is saying about the movie too. Timothee Chalamet's Wonka is no Gene Wilder's Wonka. Gene Wilder's Wonka was a man who found joy in the death of spoiled children. There's an implication that the kids didn't die in his factory, but there was never the guarantee that the kids didn't die in that tour. There's a malicious glee in his eyes when terrible things happened to those children. (I'll even go as far as to say that the original ending to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory doesn't make a lick of sense because his character just shifts to like Charlie when he returns the candy. Okay, okay, he forgives Charlie for his good deed.) The problem is...what is Wonka really saying? It's almost revisiting a feeling more than it is actually offering anything new to the conversation. I feel like I've written this phrase before and it's not a new idea, but I get that there really are no new stories. It's something that I say, but don't really believe. But Wonka, for being such a talked about movie, feels incredibly lazy as a story. Golly, this movie jumps back to archetypes so hard that I don't know what to really say surprised me. I used to write "paint-by-numbers" a lot in my blogs until I got called out on overusing it (Ironic, ain't it?). There's a weird kismet to that debacle in Ireland with Willy's Chocolate Extravaganza and Wonka kind of having the same vibe. I'm not accusing Wonka of being AI generated, but it also mind as well have been. Both of these Willy Wonka-themed moments seem so uninspired by anything new that the concept of Willy Wonka is somehow tarnished by the existence of these things. I'm being hyperbolic, but not by much. I accused Rise of Skywalker of committing the worst crime a Star Wars movie could do: be just fine. Wonka is on trial for the same crime. The thing about a boring Willy Wonka property is that Willy Wonka is supposed to be marvelous. There's always supposed to be a trick up his sleeve. He's the master magician in the form of a reclusive chocolate maker. But there's nothing all that magical about Wonka. Wonka in this movie is quirky, but he rarely feels in control of his own world. The consequence of that is that these moments where Willy Wonka pulls out some fantastical creation all feels neutered. I'm trying to compare two parallel moments from the movies. In Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, there's a candy that causes Charlie and Grandpa Joe to float to the ceiling. Through belching, they come back down. Wonka treats it as this thing that he's been honing for years and hasn't quite perfected. It all feels like the obsession of a madman. Wonka has a chocolate that, lazily, does the same thing. It's a chocolate that causes people to fly around. There's no real danger to the chocolate. It just...exists. Now, a scene where people started flying because they ate chocolate should be whimsical. It just felt boring. It felt like the easiest magic that a movie could provide. Maybe Willy Wonka doesn't need to have a whole franchise around him. This is a movie that suffers from being an origin story and a wholly unnecessary origin story. It's honestly pretty boring. The performances are fine, but that's me being generous because I think that there's more that could have been done with the eponymous character. I don't want to attack any of these people because I like all of the people involved. But this movie was just...not good. PG-13. While, by no means, is this an offensive movie, it's more offensive than the tone implies. (Again, not offensive, just not as squeaky clean as people remember.) Sexuality is a common motif throughout the story. Jenna wakes up to a naked man. While no actual nudity, Jenna is scandalized by nakedness. Also, Jenna is obsessed with her own breasts. She also gets drunk as an adult, even though she's technically only 13. But it's a pretty tame movie overall. Also, the word "suicide" is thrown around pretty casually. The movie also has a 2004 attitude towards addressing homosexuality. Still, PG-13.
DIRECTOR: Gary Winick Guys , I'm not the guy who should be writing about rom-coms. I know. Everyone loves them. For the most part, including in this case, I don't. I really don't. I don't want to be a judgmental turd about rom-coms. I don't want to be sad about what makes lots of people happy. But my snobbery has officially ruined me for bubble gum rom-coms. I also know that 13 Going on 30 is one of those universally loved rom-coms. No one is going to be a fan of this blog because I'm going to write about how my life is the hardest for having watched this movie. I will say that I watched it at the perfect time. I had just finshed Mysterious Object at Noon, a movie that moved in the complete opposite direction as 13 Going on 30. Mysterious Object is pretention weaponized. It's so indie and so anthropological that I couldn't really find much enjoyment out of it. Now, I don't really choose what movie I watch next. I have a weird algorithm that picks my next movie, but I didn't exactly mind something mindless like 13 Going on 30 showing up as the next movie. Okay, that kind of changed when I watched it. The thing about rom-coms is that I don't really find them all that funny. I also really get frustrated with the worlds that these kinds of movies build. I also have to confess something here. It's pretty bad, especially considering that I claim to have an encyclopedic knowledge of film. (I hate me too, guys. I hate me too.) I've never seen Big. I honestly should watch it right now, but I just got all of these great movies for my birthday and I need to knock them out over the course of a year (a self-imposed quest). So even though I'm going to make a natural comparison to Big, just know that I haven't really seen it. Let's talk about what I do like about this movie before I start being a bit of a bully about a lot of people's favorite film. If I am going to watch a rom-com, I don't necessarily hate the high concept element involved in something like 13 Going on 30. Both Big and 13 play on the knowledge that putting a kid in an adult body can lead into all kinds of fun hijinks while simultaneously providing commentary on the loss of innocence that comes with aging. 13 Going on 30 does this well. One thing about putting Jennifer Garner as the adult Jenna means that she's instantly worthy of our trust. Garner absolutely nails the silliness that comes with a story that pits a 13 year old in an adult body. Garner's smart enough to do something that other actors might ignore. It doesn't carry all the way throughout the film, but Garner, for the most part, plays Jenna as someone who is faking it until she makes it. Yeah, there's some yellow flags that people aren't picking up on Jenna's new reality, but that can be written off by the rules of rom-coms. But the coolest part about a story involving the loss of childhood joy is the idea that Jenna is the most evil character in the story. One of the key plots in the story is that Poise magazine, a publication that Jenna has idolized since she was a child, has a mole inside the organization. Mentally 13 Jenna is mortified that anyone could possibly do something so diabolical that she steps up to the plate to save the publication. Narratively, the film sets up Judy Greer's Lucy as the spy. After all, she's the antagonist of the film. She is as shady as can be in the film. Yeah, for anyone invested in the plot, we are all aware that Jenna is the criminal. The character has to come to grips that it takes a villain to get as much as she does in 17 years and Jenna is too successful to be a good person. But the movie, for all of its criticisms of the adult Jenna, intentionally tries to divert the gaze away from Jenna's greater crimes. Jenna goes from icky to villainous with that revelation and I really like that. I like that we have to question how to succeed in America and it's 13 Going on 30 that doesn't shy away from that question. But that's all that I really like about the movie. Okay, Mark Ruffalo and Jennifer Garner have good chemistry. But also, Matty is getting married? I know. The rom-com has normalized the notion of the romantic obstacle. In real life, Matty and Jenna are terrible people. Like, we would hate them in real life for doing what they did to Matty's fiancee. I don't know why rom-coms do this. I don't necessarily creating an obstacle to a story through character. After all, things can't be easy. An to give 13 some credit, Matty doesn't leave his fiancee. Instead, Jenna rewrites history, which is far more drastic, yet somehow morally better for me. But let's criticize Matty for a while. Matty is aware that he doesn't love his fiancee. He knows that he loves Jenna. Fine. But Matty chooses to lead this woman along in a life of misery because he's ultimately too cowardly to make a change. I would say that's not morally wrong, but he does kiss Jenna. He continually puts himself into situations where he's going to feed his attraction to his childhood best friend. There's really no excuse when that kiss happens. He also decides to keep that moment to himself. It's all kinds of gross. Also, I've never really seen a movie that ignored its central conceit. Jenna, in an understandable moment of panic, flees to find Matty, the one person that she knows exists in both time periods. It's Marty McFly looking for Doc in 1955. These are people of trust. Now, Jenna infodumps on Matty about her reality. She's holds nothing back. She confesses that she is a 13-year-old girl in a 30-year-old body. She even goes down the exact minute that she leaves her old body and travels to the future. It's not hidden. Now, the onus on Matty isn't to believe her. I mean, it's an option. It's actually an option that would make for a far more interesting, but less romantic movie. But the alternative is that Jenna has had a mental break, forcing her to believe that she is a 13-year-old girl. I get the vibe that his is the thing that Matty believes. That's a red flag, right? Okay, he thinks that Jenna is a 30-year-old woman who believes that she's 13. Yet, he keeps putting himself in scenarios where he's going to indulge whatever feelings he has for this woman. Is he okay with falling in love with a woman who believes that she is 13? I mean, she flirts with middle school boys as a 30-year-old. Everyone oddly seems like "That's so Jenna", which doesn't seem like that's at all Jenna. Sure, Matty doesn't see that, but he's also in on the secret. It doesn't matter how attractive she is. She continually tells Matt that she cannot remember anything beyond the closet when their friendship fell apart. Are we supposed to be rooting for those two? I mean, I kind of was because they're both so charming. But that's also the biproduct of a movie that ignores the key idea behind the movie. The bigger problem in terms of enjoyment is the fact that a movie that is fundamentally about what it means to be a child has never met a thirteen-year-old. Those bookended sequences in 1987? Especially the first one? Good golly, no kid acts that way. They got every childhood behavior from Disney Channel original programming. I'm not saying that kids don't model archetypal behavior. But there's nothign realistic about the script for young Jenna and young Matty. These characters are silly. Don't blame the '80s, by the way. That is too much. None of these moments read as authentic. Oddly enough, Jennifer Garner portrays a 13 year old better than the preteen that probably plays her. And none of that is really that kid's fault. The script is just so awful and such shorthand for what kids really go for. And a lot of that comes from the fact that no one really puts investment in making rom-coms somehow grounded. Rom-coms tend to be about establishing a tone. After all, I did watch the "Fun & Flirty" edition of the movie (BTW, making custom special editions based on lines of the movie was one of the worst DVD trends). The movie was so focused on lightheartedness that we sacrifice any real character for the sake of a good time. Again, I shouldn't be writing about these movies. I don't like them. There are rom-coms that I like, but I like the stuff that takes itself a little more seriously. I like when these film deviate from the formula. Golly, I'm so sorry everyone, but 13 Going on 30 does almost nothing for me. I enjoyed having something light to watch as a palatte cleanser to Mysterious Object at Noon. But the movie itself isn't...good? Again, continue liking what you like. This movie doesn't do anything for me though. Not rated, and I don't even know what you could rate this movie. It's almost stream of consciousness. There really isn't anything all that offensive. At one point, the narrative shifts to the teacher being a dancer, with the implication that she might be a stripper. But nothing is ever shown that might be even slightly offensive.
DIRECTOR: Apichatpong Weerasethakul Ask me if I want to write even a few words about this movie. The answer is a resounding, "No!" I have no desire to write right now, but I really don't want to write about this movie. I know I have nothing of substance to contribute to the discussion about this movie and that makes me a bad blogger. Honestly, I ran into a unique set of circumstances while trying to watch this movie that makes me completely underqualified to write about this movie. I watched the first hour on a treadmill, not understanding a bunch of it. I then Wikipedia'ed it, understood something absolutely crucial to watching this film and finished the movie. What I should do is rewatch the film with the important piece of knowledge that I should have gotten and then write about it. But the problem was...I really wasn't having a good time with this movie. I can't imagine sitting through it again, especially after just powering through it the first time. The funny thing is, I thought, "A Thai movie from 2000? How exciting." But then I found out that it was filmed in 16mm black-and-white and then blown up to 32? Come on. It's almost like the director desperately wanted to look like a movie from a bygone era. It's like the movie was trying to spend all of my goodwill. It's an obtuse film that doesn't look very pretty and really asks you to invest in that premise. I tried, guys. I was excited. With a movie named Mysterious Object at Noon that was made in 2000? That should have been completely up my alley and it did borderline nothing for me. It's not even a one-star movie. I can at least have a strong opinion about a one-star film. This is 2 out of 5 (something that I never mention in my film blog. That's usually reserved for Letterboxd). It just is nearly impossible to write about this without having an insane level of investment that I just didn't have. If this movie is great to people, good. Continue it being great. This hit none of my buttons, mainly because I refuse to watch it again so soon with the knowledge I now have. The knowledge I gained, by the way, was that this movie is done in the "exquisite corpse" fashion. I've learned this term before, but I rarely run into actual examples of it in practice. An exquisite corpse is a type of art that starts with one person coming up with a premise that people continually contribute to and add to the original piece. The goal of the exquisite corpse is that we should have something very different than what we started with at the beginning. It is a communal experience that is more about the relationships between artists than the final product that is actually made. Here's the problem. I walked into this movie wondering if it was a documentary or a fictional narrative (or a weird hybrid of both.) From my perspective, there were moments that felt really grounded and real. People seemed to be talking about real problems and real issues and I thought the movie was a study of life in Thailand in 2000. But then we'd have a scene that was acted out. Then it got bizarre and borderline silly with some of the choices. What started as a story between a teacher and a student became an alien doppleganger story that had almost no consistency between the other scenes. Now, what I assume was supposed to be the takeaway in this film was the myriad of personalities in this village in Thailand. The things that was a unifying force was the story that was being grown between the many many people involved in telling the story. The moments where we got to see people just exist in Thailand was interesting in the same way that the Maysleses had with cinema verite documentaries. I actually really like those documentaries a lot and there are elements of that inside Mysterious Object at Noon. But every time I would get invested in something real, we were thrown back into the exquisite corpse. And I'll tell you what? I don't care about that story. Storytelling is a specific thing. Maybe this is me gatekeeping more than I should, but the practice of the exquisite corpse, from my limited snobby perspective, should be a showcase of talent. What we get with the exquisite corpse is a reminder of why improv and understanding of structure really matter. There was a comic book and an adapted cartoon of something called Axe Cop a while ago. I never got into it. I read a little bit of it and it wasn't for me. The conceit of Axe Cop was that a comic book writer / artist took an improvised story by his son or nephew and adapted the story quite seriously. The joke was that the narrative was absolute chaos. Kids aren't really all that interesting storytellers. The main reason that kids aren't all that interesting storytellers is that everything is about escalation. Everything has to be more interesting than the previous scenes. I'm not saying that I'm perfect at that. Everyone struggles with storytelling. But that's why authors plan. Some authors can even pull off the exquisite corpse model. There was a run of comic books (I think about Ka-Zar and the Savage Land and another with Spider-Man...) that used the exquisite corpse conceit to tell the story. The point was that one author would write a story about the protagonist, putting him in a seemingly unfathomable cliffhanger. There seemed to be no way out. The goal of the author was to dig a really deep grave and see if another author could dig his or her way out. It was a fun game. But those were authors who knew structures and could plan before improving the whole thing. Listen, I'm spiraling. I don't mind spiraling in a blog like this because I don't have a lot to contribute. For all of my textual vomit that I'm offering here, I understand it isn't about the quality of the exquisite corpse in Mysterious Object at Noon. The point is that we get this insight into Thai culture and the people who contributed to this story over a dedicated amount of time. I get that. We all acknowledge that the story that was created is probably a bit of crap. They didn't even film the last sequence with the boys and the tiger, mainly because you couldn't have multiple tigers and aliens fighting on this kind of budget. The movie even reminds me in what seems to be an after-credits sequence that the story doesn't matter. We see footage of people playing soccer and having a good time in this village. Heck, we almost get ten whole minutes of just coverage of people doing innocuous things because the director is reminding us that his is about the people, not the story. But then why invest so much time in the adaptation of the exquisite corpse? Honestly, that was the stuff that drove me more crazy. It seems like there needed to separate this documentary from others which are just analyses of the human person. Part of the exquisite corpse is a question asking "What is art?" I don't know if the Mysterious Object story really at all tries to answer that question. If anything, it is an attempt to rein in chaos. Again, if it is just about the people, then we get to see people having a good time contributing to a greater tapestry. But the actual art itself is honestly pretty darned terrible and inconsequential. (See? I'm back to griping about this.) What's worse is that the Mysterious Object story is just distracting from me getting to know these interesting people. There's a couple arguing on a train. I want to know all about them. Instead, we're desperate to get back to this story that's just unintelligible. I know that I'm going to login to Letterboxd and it's going to be a 4.0 or something. I'm just going to be sad because my dumbness didn't really give me a good insight into what this movie could be. If I write any more, you know I'm just trying to pad out a bad film blog. Maybe there's something good that I should have picked out, but I almost just left frustrated with this movie. Meh. TV-14. First of all, when would this have been Rated TV-14? Is it shown more on TV and that's why? But the bigger thing is that this movie is not only incredibly sexual, but also is fundamentally about rape. While none of this is shown on screen, that's what the movie is about. There's also naked children on screen, but never in a sexual context. Also, just for your Criterion Collection Bingo card, we get unadulterated footage of a slaughterhouse with bonus points that it has nothing to do with the story.
DIRECTOR: Lino Brocka Today is going to be a stressful day and I'm really hoping that I can write a lot before anyone really talks to me. I've jumped back into the Martin Scorsese's World Cinema Project boxes because it hurts me that I've posted about Box 1 and Box 3, but not Box 2. The experience in these boxes is interesting because it is an offering of what other, underrepresented countries have created cinematically, but it's also through the lens of Martin Scorsese and the World Cinema Project. For a movie like Insiang, it's both a blessing and a curse. These movies tend to be...depressing? I mean, it's not absolute. The Criterion Collection as a whole, as obsessed as I am with Criterion, has a mood to it. Often, these movies don't tend to be fun. It's not an absolute thing. You could rattle off a whole bunch of really fun movies in the box set and you would be right. But when I'm exploring and going blind into these movies, they tend to be somber looks at the world. In most of these movies, we tend to show the worst of humanity through the filter of sheer misery and depression. Insiang really lines up with that for about 90% of the movie. I tend to watch Scorsese's introductions to these movies because, as per the purpose of the World Cinema Project, these are directors that have been ignored by the first world. I haven't heard of Lino Brocka before. I don't know much about Filipino cinema. I wanted to at least get a handle of what went into making these movies. (For those not in the know, these introductions are two minutes. Often, it's just Scorsese explaining why this film was packed coupled with a one-line about the movie and some of the director's contributions to cinema.) With Scorsese's introduction, I knew that this movie was going to be about sexual assault. I didn't know how far it would go. But I colored the movie through that lens. I knew it was a Criterion film. I thought, for sure, that the assault would happen in the first act. (Spoiler: It doesn't. It almost doesn't happen to later in the second act.) But I was watching the world, per usual, show the dregs of civilization and how people treat each other terribly. I wanted to write that men treat women terribly --which this movie is definitely about. But this is really also about how women treat each other terribly. Again, all we have is Insiang. Insiang, as the protagonist (who oddly isn't featured for a lot of the first act), is almost sacrificial in nature. The movie starts off with three strong characters. This trio is typical in these kinds of stories. Three have influence over Insiang. Tonya, Insiang's mother, is greedy, especially in terms of her sexuality. She flaunts her insecurities of being with a much younger and ruthless man, Dado. Dado is a sadist. He is the rapist of the story. He's a more silent Stanley Kowalski. Then there's the frustrating Bebot. Bebot is the earliest example in cinema that I can think of that shows the myth of the nice guy archetype. He acts nice, but is potentially one of the grossest characters in the story. The development of both Tonya and Dado are slight shortcuts in terms of characterization. Tonya has one of those scenes where she kicks out family members over small financial troubles, stealing back the clothing gifted to her nieces. I mean, you know what you need to know about Tonya from moment one. There's a moment of misdirect, where we might have questioned how static of a character Tonya really is, but that's almost immediately taken back. Dado is even more of a shortcut. Hulking and nearly mute, Dado has a heart tattoo that says "Dado" over his chest. We get who Dado is pretty quick. Again, there are moments where I thought that they were going to try to redeem Dado and I nearly turned off the film. (I'm glad I didn't because the movie is almost entirely defined by its final fifteen minutes.) But Bebot is the character that I get most invested in. Bebot is heroic by default for most of the movie. He sucks. Oh my goodness, does he suck. But we don't know that going into the movie. One of the major questions that the first acts asks is, "Does Bebot overcome his own insecurities to be the man that Insiang needs?" That's not the question of the movie. It's a complete mislead. Ultimately, Insiang is a fascinating movie because it seems like it is going to be some low-hanging fruit. We think it's going to be about misery the entire time and that Insiang is just going to become Tonya as she grows older. Nope. Not that at all. Insiang almost becomes a commentary on other films that deal with rape. It teases telling the same story. It seems like Insiang is going to embrace the worst case scenario. We know pretty quickly into the film that Bebot isn't going to become this grand hero. But it really is about how it shouldn't always be the man's story in every case. Bebot sucking is probably the most realistic version of what goes on in real life, given that he uses Insiang for sex instead of fighting Dado. I'm going to go even further, stressing that Insiang gives him a reasonable --if not slightly challenging --option of getting married and moving out. He then stresses that Insiang never trusts him. She imbues him with trust and he instantly betrays that trust. But that's why the third act works so well. It's not even the whole third act. It's the last fifteen minutes, as I said earlier. The movie really made me think about that natural cycle of misery and that hurt people hurt people. But instead, we get this sweet revenge story. I have to be honest. When Insiang starts smiling at Dado, I really almost quit the film. Honestly. Okay, I told myself that I was going to quit the film, but I never do that. I was just ready to write a scathing blog about the trope of the victim loving her rapist. When it came down, in the final minutes, a story about how a woman uses her sexuality to destroy her enemies, coupled with the notion of how she refused to be a victim, despite a lifetime of being told that she was...yeah, that was good. I know it was probably a run-on sentence, but I really wanted you to feel the exasperation of that moment. I mean, the back of my brain tickled the notion that this could all be a revenge story on a grand scale. But with so little time left, I didn't think that they could squeeze that in. I don't know if I like the final beat though. Again, the revenge story is pretty tightly packed in. There's never really a wink to the camera that lets us in on the protagonist's plans. But part of the real joy was the fact that Insiang's mother Tonya is equally culpable for all of the horrors that happened to her. Now, the Catholic school teacher is all about forgiveness. But I don't love that Insiang says that she loves her mother. It's a bit that almost seems contrary to the message of the film as a whole. Insiang is overlooked as an actual threat throughout the film. She's the prize for people as opposed to showing any sense of agency or pride. It seems like, to everyone else, Insiang is just Insiang, unthreatening and accepting. When we discover that all of that is a bit of a show, it's a heck of a dismount. But then saying that she still loves her mother, it's a bit of a Nerfed ending, slightly undoing the powerhouse of a hit at the end of a film. All this being said, I don't know if I loved it or not. I mean, the end makes it pretty great. But I also know that this isn't necessarily a movie I could recommend to...anybody? Part of it comes from the almost soap opera quality to the whole movie. It's good. It's not a soap opera. But a lot of it seems a bit underbaked. Either way, I enjoyed it a bit. Rated R for so much stuff. Like sooooo much stuff. It's got sexuality, nudity, abortion, drug use, statuatory rape, and language, including homophobic slurs. There's also some mild violence. Honestly, despite having seen this movie before, I forgot how much lewd content was in this movie. I knew there was some, but this is kind of a filthy movie. Like, Fast Times fans, what are we really fans of? Okay, that's me gatekeeping. I apologize.
DIRECTOR: Amy Heckerling I get that it's a true story. But, like, is it? I mean, sure, there's nothing in the movie that absolutely couldn't happen. But doesn't it seem a bit archetypal and tropey? This is something that I've tried to wrap my head around. Archetypes and characters come from an element of truth. There has to be something real about an archetype for the archetype to work. But the bigger frustration that I've been dealing with is...are most people archetypes? Part of that question burdens me with a harsh truth: I don't think I'm an archetype. I think I'm dynamic and that I refuse to be categorized into a box. But from an outside perspective, I'm probably the tropiest turd in the bunch. That being said, onto Fast Times at Ridgemont High! I always wondered what the fascination of Fast Times at Ridgemont High were. It's an odd story. It has that nostalgia mainline that movies like American Graffiti and Dazed and Confused have, but in real time. I suppose that there are a handful of intense Gen Z movies out there today, like Bodies Bodies Bodies or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem, but those tend to be genre films that embrace the culture of the era. Fast Times at Ridgemont High has the structure of a movie that was almost giving an imaginary version of the '80s. It's really weird that this movie came out in 1982. '82, in my head, was sad basements and old gross ashtrays. But Fast Times at Ridgemont High is bubblegum pop and neon lights extravaganza. The thing that people always claimed the '80s were? That's Fast Times from Ridgemont High. Now, probably because of Cameron Crowe, there's an interesting examination of what it is like to be a high schooler. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that high school, for me in the '90s, was not that. But then again, we're dealing with archetypes that don't necessarily align with me. If I had to identify as one of the characters from Fast Times, it would probably be Mark Ratner. Yeah, he's called Rat. It doesn't match his personality, but when your last name is "Rat" and you hang out with Mike Damone, you get the name "Rat." I think a lot of us are watching Fast Times and mirroring Mark Ratner. It's easy to throw the nerd archetype at him (and maybe it's just because I identify with his character so much), but I get more of an Everyman vibe from him. The thing is, as socially awkward as Ratner is, that's mainly because high school is a socially awkward time. Crowe wrote the book almost based on Mark Ratner. Ratner is potentially the only completely sympathetic and likable character in the thing not because other people aren't likable, but more because he's the most grounded. Most of the characters in Fast Times are almost inflated versions of real people because that's where the story and humor lie. I'm going to go to the most extreme version of reality and talk about Spicoli first. Spicoli is...a lot. It's really weird seeing Sean Penn play this role and I'd love to see him revisit Spicoli today, but only as a gag. I couldn't handle a follow-up to Spilcoli in any real way. (Note: I Googled it. Apparently, there was a table read of Fast Times where Shia LaBoeuf did this really intense version of Spicoli in front of Sean Penn. Yeah, that's not what I was really looking for.) Now, part of me has always treated Spicoli in this way. Spicoli is a caricature. He's where we get that surfer brah stoner character. Sorry, there's a difference between Cheech and Chong stoners and Spicoli stoners. Mainly, Spicoli isn't as funny. I know. Comedy is subjective. But as much as Spicoli is a caricature, he's also weirdly empathetic. I went into this viewing of Fast Times with an attempt to humanize even the silliest of characters and there's something interesting happening with Spicoli. I really feel like Spicoli is meant to be a bit of an empathetic character to a certain extent. I still find it weird that Sean Penn --intense Sean Penn! --played Spicoli. But Penn couldn't help but give Spicoli a bit of sadness. Spicoli seems to be unphased by the reputation he's earned. He's Ridgemont High's resident loser. No one thinks well of him. Even Brad finds Spicoli's lack of motivation tiresome at times. But Spicoli seems sad a lot of the time. His voice and his conversations may read like, "Life's a party", but he's always kind of just depressed that people aren't treating him better. Before I go into Mr. Hand, I would like to stress that the whole ending with Mr. Hand seems absolutely absurd. But if I treat it as something that really happened, it only works because Spicoli is a little bit sad. Mr. Hand is at Spicoli's house because he's making a point. Part of it comes across as he wants this kid to pass his class, either because he's a nice guy underneath it all or he just doesn't want to deal with Spicoli again. But Mr. Hand's entire bag of tactics consists of humiliating students into submission. Mr. Hand goes to Spicoli's house with the intention of shaming this kid and ruining his night. It's a power move. But Spicoli, over the course of the evening, is grateful to the teacher for spending time with him and making sure that he understood American history. That only kind of works if Spicoli is kind of sad inside. The righteous character who finds mondo waves would be put out by Mr. Hand's aggressive invasion. And don't get me wrong, he puts out bummed vibes initially. But by the end, Spicoli is that teacher story that never exists. By being a bit of a stickler and offering a firm hand, Mr. Hand (oh! now I get it!) gets through to the wasted youth that have pillaged his precious time. That doesn't exist. But Spicoli's enthusiasm and gratitude towards Hand only kind of exists because Hand's the first person who really believed in him. That's supposed to be uplifting, but it seems like it is a pretty low bar to set. Now for the sex stuff. I almost don't want to talk about it. It feels...I don't know, gross? Now, I have to give Fast Times some credit. The statuatory rape is supposed to be gross. But also, there's that odd encouragement that Stacy gets from her friends. I hate to be belaboring "the point", but is that really how aggressively sex is viewed in high school. Like, the girls as the pizza parlor almost seem feral about it. It almost seems like there's no such thing as a red flag in terms of danger when it comes to what girls will do to lose their virginity in this story. And once Stacy loses her virginity in the most base, depressing way ever, she becomes ravenous for it. Now, my job isn't to shame people. These are fictional characters. But Stacy almost becomes inhuman about finding another suitor after Ron disappears from her life. Part of that comes with shame. She's confused and frustrated. There have to be self-esteem issues when it comes to losing what she considers to be a first love. But the way that she treats Mark becomes almost predatory. She can't understand that not everyone has the same drive that she does and treats him like a pariah. Even more so, she seduces Mike knowing that Mike is Mark's best friend. You can almost tell that this was written by a dude. It's not letting men off the hook. The movie ends with Mike looking pretty darned scummy. The odd thing is that there is a character shift for Mike. Again, Mark is the only character that comes across as sympathetic. But for a while in the story, I was actually rooting for Mike and Stacy. Mike is probably my favorite character in the movie until he sleeps with Stacy. Here's this guy who is almost aware that he's an archetype. He's the most self-aware character of the film. He actually lets the veil fall from time-to-time. But ultimately, Mike is this kid stuck in a persona of himself. He loves being kind of scuzzy and removed, but shows moments of vulnerability, fear, and sweetness. He's intimidated by Charles Jefferson's fame. He doesn't want to get in trouble when it comes to being a parent. He's also the guy who comes running to help his friend, despite claiming to be busy. Ultimately, to give the movie a happy ending, Mark forgives Mike. It's weird to think that the film ends with Mark and Stacy together. Sure, at their core, they have the most similar personalities. But their choices have deviated them to a point where I call shannigans that these two immature kids could move their baggage aside. Honestly, for a comedy, Fast Times at Ridgemont High is incredibly depressing. Like, it's great. I don't love it, but I found it fascinating while watching it a second time. It's when I stopped thinking of it as a fun cult movie that I found something to really tear apart. But is it fun? I don't know. I think it's a depressing movie with some fun parts. Not rated, but there's the old standard murder with swords business that we've grown so comfortable with. I watched this about a week ago, so I apologize for not having anything specific, but I kind of remember some almost nudity in the film. Listen, Zatoichi movies have made their beds. We know what to expect in these films.
DIRECTOR: Kimiyoshi Yasuda I'm going to start doing these movies differently. I don't know why I'm writing about this now, but I feel like writing it is somehow a contract that I have to abide by. I am never going to get through the Zatoichi box set at this pace. I think I'm going to watch all of the movies on the disc back-to-back-to-back. I know it probably will be nearly impossible to write about these movies, but I just need to knock these out. The only problem? Zatoichi's Cane Sword is the last film on the disc. Sometimes, I watch these movies and get mad. I honestly do. It's so hard to watch Zatoichi movies and find no changes in the story. Part of this is on me. I don't have to complete franchises. But I love having said that I have done everything in a series. I'm even reading the non-Ian Fleming James Bond novels. But I like these stories as long as something is different in them. I'm going to give Zatoichi's Cane Sword some points for its A-plot. The key concept in this film is that Zatoichi is not allowed to use the eponymous weapon in this one. Because of overuse and slight flaws, Zatoichi's sword has one more cut left in it. I'm sorry, that's not even fair. He's got one more kill. I love how the blacksmith can recognize that. It specifically has one more kill and that's something that actually can change the dynamics of the story. One of the major problems I had with The Batman was the reliance of a giant action setpiece in the third act. Now, before I really go into this, I would like to point out that Zatoichi does murder a bunch of dudes at the end of the movie. As much as I liked this one for being a little bit different, it ultimately follows the same rules for a lot of Zatoichi movies and has the protagonist butcher scores of dudes with a sword. That still happens. Back to The Batman and Zatoichi. The first two thirds of both movies are drastic departures from the other movies featuring the same protagonist. Batman and Zatoichi movies tend to be a lot of violence throughout and we know that both characters are going to win their fights because they're Batman and Zatoichi, respectively. These are both characters that have been trumped up to guaranteed-win status. There's almost no threat to these characters because they've been Mary Sue'd to oblivion, ultimately relieving the tension that has been placed upon what should be suspenseful situations. But The Batman created a story that is fundamentally mental gymnastics ends with this big brawl involving Riddler copycats and blowing stuff up. The thing that makes Zatoichi's Cane Sword work is that the story hinges on him trying to figure out ways to redefine himself in the wake of a realization. Now, if you were anything like me, you were asking "Why can't he just get another sword that isn't a cane?" Sure, the movie doesn't really talk about that. I mean, the cane sword kills a lot of dudes because most of his foes are surprised to see what appears to be an unarmed man open a fresh can of killing upon trained assassins out of nowhere. But really, that's also the job of a sword. We live in the world of Zatoichi. So much of these movies ask us to ignore basic conventions. It never answers how Zatoichi is better than sighted opponents or how he solves the dice thing every time. Heck, in this one, we're not really allowed to question how Zatoichi trips on barrels that bump into his knees. But the cool thing is that, one of the recurring themes of Zatoichi is that he doesn't want to be Zatoichi. That idea is now getting a little played out because we realize that, if there's a problem he's going to face it head-on because he'll realize that the greater good is going to overwhelm his desire for a peaceful existence. But the notion of the cane sword having a degree of fragility to it, a sense or mortality, makes the problem physically verifiable. The problem has been taken out of his hands. We know that he's going to use it. I mean, that's the Chekhov's gun of the whole film. It's called Zatoichi's Cane Sword. That thing is going to get used. But the extra layer to that notion is that Zatoichi isn't just trying to embrace a peaceful lifestyle. It's the knowledge that, if the sword breaks, he dies. What the movie does extraordinarily well (and I'm not really sure how it pulls this off) is make you understand that there's a sacrificial element to the blade. The Macguffin and the protagonist are linked inexorably and that Zatoichi isn't attracted to the violence. He's genuinely a hero because the use of that sword means death. In the dream sequence, we see the breaking of the blade and the imminent death that occurs immediately after the shattering of the blade. Yet, the third act begins with Zatoichi making the choice to use the blade, despite the almost certain death. When the blade doesn't break, there's some stuff to unpack. Ultimately, it becomes the story of how Zatoichi, with his Incredible Hulk Bill Bixby-like journey is an inspiration to others. I mean, it's a little telegraphed. I can't deny that it is a little telegraphed. These movies aren't complex. But the story doesn't become about Zatoichi. It becomes about the people around him. The blacksmith was so moved by Zatoichi's sacrifice, coupled with the artistry of the sword, that he was moved to repair the sword instead of hoarding it for himself. He sees the sword as something sacred, ultimately acknowledging that the sword can only be complete in the hands of a master like Zatoichi. I can't tell you that the blacksmith sees his own death and trades Zatoichi's intended sacrifice for himself. That's a stretch, but it does feel like that a bit. It's what makes Zatoichi's Cane Sword work better than the final act of The Batman. The Batman's third act feels tacked on, like it needs to be there because Batman needs to fight people. Cane Sword ends with a fight that, for once, feels earned. Maybe it is a bit silly and goes on longer than it needs to, but it is the natural resolution for a character who has been through stuff. It, for the first time in a long time in this series, feels like Zatoichi is making a choice against his better judgment and that's cool in the story. But is the movie great? No. Absolutely not. I mean, we still have a lot of those same beats that we get from other Zatoichi movies. Heck, in some ways, Cane Sword doubles down on tropes that we've seen painfully beat into the series up to this point. My goodness, the gambling? I have been complaining about the reliance of gambling as a means to show that Zatoichi is in charge in these films and this movie only locks it canonically in. What started as a masseur who enjoyed his bit of gambling from time-to-time has turned into Zatoichi full-on deciding that is his means of income. Everything in this movie keeps coming back to those stupid dice. While I will give Cane Sword some leeway in terms of complication of story because it does have a more approachable B-story than other films in this series, there are desperate attempts to complicate the narrative to stretch out the film's runtime. There are characters who seem important that are barely in the movie. I want to be invested in them, but so much of the movie is in the dialogue about what characters have done off-camera. So good things? Physically verifiable problem for Zatoichi to solve. It actually changes the dynamics of the story and brings us something plausible with the ending. But in terms of going back to the same well for story beats? Yeah, not a fan of that. |
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
October 2024
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