 The British Sideways BELOW: A scene that really pissed off Ebert Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page Director: Michael Winterbottom Producer: Andrew Eaton and Melissa Parmenter Cinematography: Ben Smithard by Jon Cvack For those unfamiliar (I wasn’t) this was a British television series cut down into a mockumentary. Allegedly, the show focused more on the restaurants they went to and dove deeper into the food and chefs. There’s a peculiar similarity to Sideways (2004), which for as much as I look, I can’t find any direct inspiration, but being made six years later, the parallels fly off the screen. Both films contain two artist friends, one in a relatively healthy relationship, the other not (or at all). They meet up and head off on a road trip, hitting up various restaurants, sites, and bars along the way, all while providing an intimate look into friendship, exploring everything from the banal to the personal. In this case, the philandering and sarcastic Hayden Christensen and neurotic Paul Giamatti are replaced by Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, each playing a fictionalized version of themselves. Ryan as a happily married radio host known for his impersonations, specifically a bizarre “man in the box” voice and Steve Coogan as a modestly successful actor, who fantasizes about working with Hollywood’s top auteurs, seemingly on the precipice of success, and dating a young attractive girl back in the states who he proceeds to cheat on without concern. The plot is as simple as it gets. Coogan is offered a week-long trip to Northern England’s top restaurants for a magazine and invites his friend Ryan after his young American girlfriend drops out, having gone back to the states to meet up with some magazine editors. We watch as Coogan and Ryan visit the top restaurants, commenting on the food and offering various and hilarious impressions ranging from Woody Allen to a brilliant breakdown of what makes a good Michael Caine impression (involving talking through the nose while projecting a lifetime of whiskey and cigar smoking). Between Coogan walking off into the Northern England countryside, calling his agent and girlfriend, wallowing in his lack of success, forever stuck in the London entertainment industry to then seduce a waitress or hotel staff all while Ryan heads back to his room for an early evening, phone sexing his wife. It’s as simple as that. Coogan and Brogdon’s foil isn’t punched up or exploited. It’s simply two funny people - one dry the other more slapstick - on vacation, allowing us to listen to their thoughts and banter. Ebert quoted Siskel in his review who said, "I wish I'd seen a documentary about the same actors having lunch.” I’d be satisfied with a podcast. In the end, they return home. We learn Coogan has a son he rarely sees and isn’t all that close to, being far more focused on his career than being a good dad, while Brogdon anxiously awaits the return home to his family. Coogan gets back to his empty apartment, having been offered a role on an HBO series which he rejects; whether for the unlikely reason that he wants to try and get more involved with his family, or because he’s still holding out for a breakout role, we’re not sure. It’s something the next three sequels might reveal. BELOW: Gave me a lol Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Kinda like a Godly version of the Linklater's Before Series Director: Fernando Meirelles Writer: Anthony McCarten; based on The Pope by Anthony McCarten Cinematographer: César Charlone Producer: Dan Lin, Jonathan Eirich, and Tracey Seaward by Jon Cvack With a horrible and misleading title that I think makes most people assume the movie is simply about two old men talking, i’s once the opening credits role and you see Fernando Mereilles as director that you realize that, although likely still about two old men talking, it’s going to be done with all the energy required to avoid boredom. The movie opens after the death of John Paul II as the Vatican votes on the new pope. In a sequence straight out of a Michael Bay film we see the various Arch Bishops cast their ballots, failing to get the proper majority of votes; the votes tallied by dropping wooden balls into various containers, then weaving a red string through the individual names. After a few rounds, German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (Anthony Hopkins) is selected to become Pope Benedict XVI. Years later, one of the Cardinal’s Jorge Mario Bergogliowho (Jonathan Pryce) - who may or may not have voted for Benedict - is called in to meet the pope. I rewatched this scene before writing this, as it was the moment that hooked me into the movie. Until this point I was still ambivalent, unsure if this was going to be a grind or not. Watching it alone, I realized that this movie isn’t so much about two popes so much as two ideologies, and that this movie is very much a look at our - and the world’s - current political divide. In a brilliant sequence where each exchange warrants discussion, the two men sit in the garden. Benedict asks Jorge about some of his recent criticisms against the church; starting with the fact that the Cardinal refuses to live in the Vatican Palace. Jorge responds that he wanted a simpler life, to which Benedict strikes back stating that his desire for a simpler life implies that the Pope and other Cardinals should live simpler lives. Jorge gets the last word in by asking if anyone could. A point difficult to refute. They continue on with Benedict accusing Jorge of being his leading critic, going on to ask about the various statements Jorge had made regarding celibacy and homosexuality. Jorge defends it as being misquoted until Benedict suggests he tell the press what he actually thinks so no one misunderstands him. They continue the debate and Jorge explains how he sees the world forever changing. The church being one of the finest examples. Marriage amongst priests only started in the twelfth century, celibacy in the fifth, and angels in the fourth; point being that the things the church now holds sacred didn’t even exist at the birth of Christianity. Benedict wonders if God changes to which Jorge says of course, and that it is our journey on this changing Earth that we hope we can one day meet him. It’s perhaps the greatest explanation of one’s relationship to God I’ve heard; a point made all the more poignant when later in the film, Benedict explains that he hasn’t heard God’s voice in weeks; afraid He might be gone, or have never existed. Benedict continues inviting Jorge over for various discussions. I’m certain revisiting the film would allow each and everyone one of these interactions to warrant extensive discussion, but for the sake of a first viewing, the story continues on to reveal Benedict’s pending retirement and hope that Jorge could become the new pope; believing that Jorge’s progressive ideas could provide the type of reform required to expand patronage. We’re unsure whether it was the abuse scandal, the accusations of Nazi ancestry, lowering attendance, or a loss of faith, but as Jorge mentions, he’d be the first pope to resign without external pressure since Celestine V in 1294. Benedict retains that his decision was based on his old age. Throughout the film we watch as the men share wine and music. Benedict reveals his skills at the piano and love of The Beatles while Jorge mentions his passion for soccer. They look past their ideological differences and into what brings them together; as servants of God hoping to guide the world away from sin and toward virtue. However, we also get a look at Jorge’s checkered past, having served in Argentina during the right-wing uprising which resulted in the rounding up and execution of political dissidents. Being a liberal Jesuit, he ordered his priests to shut down their parishes to prevent further bloodshed, destroying numerous relationships in the process as the priests accused him of capitulating to the right-wing government. It’s a demonstration of the type of compromise the film promotes. Jorge may not have agreed with the far right regime, but he wasn’t prepared to allow additional death. It poses a tricky question as to how to stand up to violent extremism. Either you can die by physical fights, or you can die by the intellectual ones. Do your best to change things from the inside; especially if you’re approaching it from a pro-life perspective. Eventually, Jorge becomes Pope Francis and Benedict resigns. The two allegedly retain a friendship; the film ends with the two watching the World Cup featuring their respective homelands, Argentina and Germany. We’re not sure why Francis supported Jorge. The cynic makes me think that, for the church, he knew it’d need a significant shift. On the other hand, he might have grasped the ideas that Jorge expressed; that the God and therefore the church are always changing, and to commit oneself to a particular ideology is to appeal to a narrower and narrower set of people. It doesn’t take much to extend the ideas to our own politics. As of this writing, tonight the Republican Party voted to deny additional witnesses at Donald Trump’s first impeachment. It’s an enraging and terrifying moment, in which there’s no other explanation than politics - that is, their own careers - that can explain the decision. John Bolton’s testimony is risky. They have spent the last two months criticizing the witnesses for failing to have firsthand knowledge. John Bolton can provide that and has confirmed the accusations, but they have no desire to make that public. Then again, in an effort to take a lesson from The Two Popes, perhaps they know Bolton’s book and subsequent media blitz is inevitable and whatever he talked about behind closed doors will be revealed afterwards. Even with his testimony - no matter how damning - there’d never be a conviction. They are aware of the hypocrisy and understood the risk. Putting this up nearly two years later, they succeeded short term. Most people I’m sure can’t even remember what the first impeachment was even about. Conservatives by their very name are Benedict in this case. They see a nation that is changing and are failing to adapt; leaning further and further into their white, Christian base. There’s a David Frum quote going around, “If conservatives become convinced that they can not win democratically, they will not abandon conservatism. They will reject democracy.” If too many people are voting for someone you disagree with, prevent their votes from being worth as much. Publishing this about a year later, we’re now seeing this exact action in Texas, Florida, and dozens of other Republican led state governments. It requires taking logic to its very end. First you have to convince people of illegal voting and fraud, and then if experts question that premise, call out the experts as partisan. It demands division. It thrives on us versus them; all the more inflamed when it creates a vicious spiral and both sides believe the other is destroying the country. The Two Popes portrays a movie about an ideology that is forced to change and adapt; to see the other side as desiring an equally virtuous outcome. It calls for a time of bipartisanship and empathy. All matters aside of how the Vatican is structured compared to liberal government, it shows the beauty and humility in trying to understand. Of course, Donald Trump is a foul and disgusting human being, and until he’s gone, I don’t think any of this is possible. As Benedict hasn’t heard God, we have to bide our time and retain hope that the journey provides brighter times ahead. In full honesty, I’m becoming increasingly unsure. Fortunately, I was wrong, though I'm not sure for how long. BELOW: Talking progress Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Works so well, up until the end Director: James Ponsoldt Writer: Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber; based on The Spectacular Now by Tim Tharp Cinematographer: Jess Hall Producer: Tom McNulty, Shawn Levy, Michelle Krumm, and Andrew Lauren by Jon Cvack Miles Teller skates a fine line between a gawky dork and an absolute douchebag in most of his roles, though always feeling like your cool and charming buddy from high school. Whiplash portrays the former while the Spectacular Now is the finest example yet of the latter. It follows Sutter Keely as an alcoholic high school senior who’s dating one of the hottest girls in school, Cassidy Roy (Brie Larson). When Cassidy breaks up with Sutter, he recounts the story via his college admissions essay and how he went on to meet his next love, Aimee Finecky (Shailene Woodley). After a night of heavy drinking, he and Cassidy get into another fight which officially ends things. Sutter dives further into the hard stuff before Aimee wakes him up the next day on a stranger’s lawn, making the rounds on her paper route to help her mother out. I’m sure Woodley didn’t completely forego make-up, but it’s as close to anything I’ve seen; allowing her natural beauty to create her character’s appeal. Counter to his life of excess, Sutter’s drawn to her authenticity and asks to see her again. An interesting touch during the first third is seeing Sutter constantly walking around with a 24 ounce styrofoam cup that he’s constantly sipping out; which for anyone with a similar friend, we know is likely spiked. Director James Ponsoldt never reveals this until well past the thirty minute point, where Sutter pours his flask in and we realize how severe his problem is. Sutter attempts to balance his burgeoning attraction to Aimee with an inability to fully break things off with Cassidy. He invites Aimee to a party at the river, knowing that Cassidy would be there, seeing him with his new girlfriend as she ended up with the captain of the football team. The ploy works and while Cassidy doesn’t stay long, it’s just enough to make her jealous. At the same party, Sutter pulls out his flask, offering some to Aimee who reluctantly accepts before then admitting that she’s not going to college because she has to help mom. Feeling buzzed, we then move into what’s becoming the “thoughts and prayers” of the teenage romantic comedy as Sutter tells her to shout out a cathartic “Fuck you, mom” which she of course takes a few times of progressively letting to before finally nailing the energy. I have no idea how people can still write scenes like this unironically. From here the film takes kind of a bummer turn, as we realize that Sutter is not just a kid who likes to drink, but a severe alcoholic. Taking his own advice he gave to Aimee about college, he contacts his estranged father who invites them over. We find it to be one of the weirdest pieces of casting I’ve ever seen in recent years in having Kyle Chandler play the role of his father; aka the most charming and loving man in the world attempting to play a deadbeat. It’s not bad, but it’s difficult to buy until his cameo is over. Sutter learns that his dad is an alcoholic like him and left because he didn’t want to be a father. Plain and simple. Sutter keeps drinking and takes his anger out on Aimee, soon kicking her out of his car on the shoulder of a highway where she gets out and is hit by a car; ending up in the hospital. Concerned he’s a terrible influence, Sutter distances himself. He ends up going to his graduation ceremony, but we later learn it was as a courtesy. He failed his senior year and will have to go to summer school. He’s then provided an ultimatum at work, between keeping his job and stop drinking or face termination. He chooses termination. He tops it off by going to a bar trying to get laid instead of visiting Aimee at the bus station to see her off. He gets wasted and crashes into his mom’s mailbox, later breaking down in front of her who comforts him. It then cuts to his writing the college admissions essay. He’s failed senior year and missed the deadline so it seems more about a self-assessment than anything else, but then also becomes a bit deceiving in that whether it’s for him or not, the whole act was pointless and deceiving. Though so is Sutter so maybe that’s the point. The conclusion wraps up in rapid speed after the accident. Sutter eventually pulls a Will Hunting and drives to Philadelphia to be with Aimee, even though she’s in school and he’s now in a big city, with lots of bars and stuff to do and at no point in these five closing minutes could I accept that someone struggling with alcoholism immediately got over the condition. It’s easy to see that this is probably little beyond acknowledging the problem and far from solving it. Both would go on to meet other people and have other experiences. There’s naivety in asking us to seriously consider that it all went happily ever after, and not see the inevitable ugliness to come. The film attempts to replicate some hybrid of Good Will Hunting (1997) and Adventureland (2009), but Sutter’s problems are neither portrayed as all that serious until the end, and he’s not humble enough per the likes of Jesse Eisenberg for us to sympathize. Miles Teller carries the story in having us care about the character, but as you replay and continue the story, you realize how awful of a person he is. I had no faith that he wouldn’t screw over Aimee again and fall even further into alcohol. If he couldn’t handle senior year of high school, there was no way he was handling living with a girl in a big city with no job or college prospects. BELOW: Maybe going to NYC with no job and no college prospects will cure severe alcoholism Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Similar but different Director: Terrence Malick Writer: Terrence Malick Cinematographer: Jörg Widmer Producer: Elisabeth Bentley, Dario Bergesio, Grant Hill, and Josh Jeter by Jon Cvack Prior to The Tree of Life (2011), and with the exception of the 1980s (which would have been interesting), Terrence Malick made about one film per decade. From 1973 through 2011 he made five films. From 2011 to today he’s made another five. Notoriously avoidant of the press and Awards show, you can’t help wondering what made the man suddenly immerse himself into telling one story after another. His study of philosophy is felt in every scene and it doesn’t seem too far a reach that at the age of 76 he’s growing increasingly aware of his own mortality. Perhaps distraction. Perhaps the need to tell his remaining stories before it’s too late. To the Wonder (2012) was his first film that felt as though it had failed to meet the grandeur of his prior work. It was a very good movie, but something was missing. It felt small, experimental, even. Aside from the few scenes with Javier Bardem in church, few images have remained with me the way his other stories have. Knight of Cups (2015) followed and suddenly there was a shift; in which Malick’s style became too apparent and ill-fitted; feeling as though an imitation like so many others have done. Waves (2019), most recently. It’s a topic that Tarantino has mentioned in declaring he’ll only make ten films; not wanting to fade out the way his favorite directors have and leave a tainted filmography. Having won a Golden Globe for Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood (2019) I’m left wondering if he would do it. This was the first year that I thought my generation’s most revered filmmakers lost some of the magic the way Tarantino described. The Irishman, Tarantino’s film, and A Hidden Life were all very good films, but didn’t provide that Earth-shattering experience the directors previously created. Put differently, these movies are better than the vast majority of cinema, but in terms of individual filmographies, these are on the lower half. A Hidden Life is the true story of rural farmer Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl) who works in the Austrian mountain village of St. Radegund as the Nazi’s expand across Europe. A title card tells us that Germany demanded Austrian men to fight for them and swear an oath to Hitler. He’s joined by his wife Franzika (Valerie Pachner) and three daughters. Franziska and Franz are that endearing duo, sharing the work equally while always making time to show affection and love. When Franz quits the service and returns to the farm, ostracized from most of the town; made all the more problematic in that he works with people everyday, depending on them for trade and assistance. Franziska supports him the best she could even though it means working all the harder to make up for it. Soon Franz receives a draft notice, ordering him back into the military. He heads back but again refuses to take an oath to Hitler which then lands him in jail. Franziska manages the farm with the help of her sister Rosalia (Karin Neuhauser). She receives letters on occasion, unsure whether she’ll ever see Franz again, all while dealing with the town’s animus. According to IMDb trivia, the film took over three years to edit; making me wonder if Donald Trump was even a real possibility at the time of Malick writing or even discovering the story. The parallels are striking in how the town increasingly commits itself to Hitler, shunning anyone who fails to tow the party line. One question both sides of the aisle can agree on is how the Nazis were able to convince so many people of their cause? We forget that there was idealism and hope; a return to the great Prussian Empire, allowing them to ignore the pains and death caused to others in order to achieve that goal. The one issue I had with the film was in wondering how Franz knew enough about the Nazis to refuse an oath to Hitler. We never get a sense of information being exchanged. Only discussed. Given that it takes place in an idyllic rural Austrian mountain village how could any information be trusted? Were there newspapers or an underground press? I assume it was when Frazn was watching the news footage and heard the Nazis cheering on the destruction. Turns out the real Franz was a pacifist, and thus like Desmond Doss from Hacksaw Ridge (2016), it wasn’t even about politics. Something that feels like Terrence Malick deliberately left out. I’m left wondering how interesting it would have been to hear the Nazis debate Franz’s religious objection. As Franz rots in prison, Malick keeps teasing us with sounds of planes and soldiers coming in; making us think he might last through the Allied invasion. The time stamp is enough to suggest otherwise, and when Franz is sentenced to death in August 1943 we know there are few chances for survival. A lawyer tries to convince him to sign the oath, going so far as to return to St. Radegund to find Franziska and bring her back. She does and with few words, she knows his mind is made up. I’m left wondering if Malick saw The Death of Stalin (2017) as he follows Franz up to his execution. In the film’s most brutal scene we watch as he’s positioned fourth in an abandoned factory yard, waiting his turn to get into the dark building and what awaits him; soon discovering a guillotine. It’s here where Malick mastery shines as he somehow places us into the mind of Franz and the other soldiers. Some cry, others panic, and Franz looks around, up at the beautiful scattered cloud sky. What does one think of in those final moments, knowing that each thought and image could be your last? We at least get a taste of how time and mind functions in such a situation. The weekend I saw this I watched Schindler’s List (1993), more confident than ever in declaring it as one of the greatest pieces of cinema - and works of art - ever created. I was left thinking of The Thin Red Line (1998), which serves as one of the greatest war films ever created. At three hours long, A Hidden Life was simply too much for such an intimate story. There were only so many images of Franziska and her sister working the fields, the children running around, and Franz sitting in his prison cell or wandering around the yard. The story itself is simple enough to have been a phenomenal two hour film. Instead, it feels unable to let go, combined with losing Lubezki, it couldn’t achieve the magnificence to justify its running time. Three hour films about the Nazis demand action; if not in physical action then in dramatic. BELOW: One of the best scenes of the year Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The performance outshines the film Director: Marielle Heller Writer: Micah Fitzerman-Blue and Noah Harpster; "Can You Say ... Hero?" by Tom Junod Cinematographer: Jody Lee Lipes Producer: Youree Henley, Peter Saraf, Marc Turtletaub, and Leah Holzer by Jon Cvack This is the type of film that I wanted to wait to see what people thought of before I jumped to the theaters. Won’t You Be My Neighbor? (2019) is such a fantastic documentary that I feared this narrative was simply taking all the juice it could get. The movie opens up with the Mr. Rogers set, filtered as though we’re watching it on our old televisions. We see the model town and move into the set where Tom Hanks then opens the door and within seconds I was completely taken away. In terms of people from history, there seemed no better match for Mr. Rogers and Hanks takes us completely away, reciting the opening song, tying his shoes, putting on the vest. It seems so easy to have broken and bombed, but Tom Hanks resurrects the spirit. Without anything beyond the usual intro, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I’m not at all sure why. Mr. Rogers holds up a tall board covered in doors; opening them up one by one, introducing Daniel, King Friday XIII, X the Owl until landing on the last door where he opens it up to find his friend Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys) as a beat up newspaper reporter with a large gash across his nose. Immediately my attention snapped, away from the beauty of seeing a person recreate another human being and fully immerse me within their world and into a story gimmick. In seconds, I learned that the movie was not at all a biopic about Mr. Rogers but rather Lloyd’s story about his estranged dad whilst dealing with a newborn baby and middle age. The story isn’t terrible and I’m left wondering if another viewing with the proper understanding would create a different approach. The last time Lloyd saw his father, Jerry (Chris Cooper), was at his sister’s wedding where they got into a fist fight. At work, Lloyd is gaining a bad reputation as a harshly honest reporter. When Esquire wants a feature done on 100 Influential People, Lloyd’s editor gives him Mr. Rogers. Lloyd refuses, seeing himself as above it. His editor explains it’s not a request. In a fun movie, director Marielle Heller created various Mr. Rogers-esque NYC and Pittsburgh model sets that served as transitional elements for Lloyd flew. He ends up at Mr. Rogers show, seeing Mr. Rogers in action as his endearing, polite, and charming man. His team is frustrated as he’s over 90 minutes overschedule, though Mr. Rogers doesn’t flinch a muscle. It’s a bizarre scene as we get the feeling of what it’d be like to be both Lloyd the character and Matthew Rhys watching Mr. Rogers and Tom Hanks performing on stage. It’s a scene so fascinating that we completely buy why Lloyd’s interest is piqued. He’s seeing a national treasure in the process of creation. The pair form a friendship. Fred sees something damaged in Lloyd and Lloyd sees a larger story in Mr. Rogers. Both question and pry one another. Lloyd is confronted with failing to resolve issues with his dad and Fred admits that he’s far from the perfect man he portrays on television. Soon Lloyd is again visited by his dad who brings his new girlfriend over. His wife, Andrea (Susan Kelechi Watson), holds her baby while she passes out plates for pizza. Lloyd snaps and with a bit too heavy of a scene, explains how Jerry cheated on their mom while she died from cancer. Jerry gets so worked up, he keels over, having a heart attack. The situation changes nothing for Lloyd, who again flies to Pittsburgh against his wife's request that he stay with the family. He later learns his father has cancer and the two reconcile their ways and Mr. Rogers pays them a final visit. Mr. Rogers talks about the need for forgiveness; a concept most only grasp when you’re older. It is not necessarily for a wrong committed, so much as a quality required when dealing with those you disagree with. No matter who is right or wrong, I’m left wondering how things would be if people simply forgave the other and - with humility - attempted to understand. Perhaps I should forgive the movie. I was so hungry for Mr. Rogers and Tom Hank’s performance that I think I failed to accept what the movie was really about. It wasn’t the idealism preached on the show. It was the real complication of adults trying to adopt his lessons. BELOW: Going... going... going... and... Soto pulls it in Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the best father/son dynamics of the decade Director: Trey Edward Shults Writer: Trey Edward Shults Cinematographer: Drew Daniels Producer: Kevin Turen, Jessica Row, and Trey Edward Shults by Jon Cvack My friend has been telling me to see this movie for weeks. Not knowing anything about it beyond that it was made by the director It Comes At Night (2017) in a fascinating shift. The moment he said Trent Reznor did the soundtrack, I was determined to find a screening on its last week. I’m halfway through Euphoria. Visually, it’s the most exciting show on television, but in terms of story, it plays like a jumped shark of any teen drama. The story is beyond belief, and while combined with the style, it helps capture an essence of high school, there’s so little in specific that I can relate to. Everything is to the extreme, creating a melodrama that’s less accessible. I knew nothing of Waves beyond it being a domestic drama, getting hints that something significant happens early on that sets the family on a particular path. We meet Tyler Williams (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) driving in a car with his girlfriend Alexis Lopez (Alexa Demie). The camera spins around in circles per the likes of Children of Men (2006), creating a tension that something was about to happen. They’re kissing, Tyler’s foot is out the window, and we wonder if they’re about to get in an accident; fall off the bridge, get hit by a car, lose control. And then the film cuts. We watch the pair in the Florida ocean, kissing in the water and playing in the sand. We flash back and find Tyler at wrestling practice, running the track where he sees his girlfriend who eyes him down and the two start seeing each other. The sequence is exactly what I was hoping Euphoria would be, leaning on a brilliant style and rhythm but never taking the story beyond reality. Terrence Malick is all over the film and while it’s a bit too obvious at points, I’m coming around to the idea that what Saving Private Ryan did for the war film, Malick did for using images to push a narrative and convey emotion. Back home we meet his father Ronald (Sterling K. Brown) who demands more than a single word answer when he asks how school went. Ronald is a demanding, though loving father; adhering his son to a strict workout regimen and pushing hard on academics. After experiencing discomfort in his shoulder, Tyler starts taking some of his father’s painkillers to numb the pain on occasion, later going to the doctor and learning that he has permanent damage in his tendon which could lead to an irreversible injury that should forever end his days of wrestling immediately. Tyler ignores the doctor’s advice and takes on the next match where in one of the most excruciating displays of pain I’ve ever seen, we watch his opponent take him down, sending a bolting shock of pain through his body. He loses the first match and goes again, again taken down, his arm dragged behind his body until the pain grows so severe he blacks out. He wakes up and reveals the truth to his parents, turning to pills and booze. He learns that Alexis is late, and failing to grasp what it means, parties more and more with his family. She reveals she’s pregnant. Vowing to do whatever he needs to do to support her, the scene cuts to them cruising to an abortion clinic, where in a fascinating sequence, the camera stays in the car, catching just glimpses of the protestors outside. We move in and the security guard introduces himself, warning of how extreme and vitriolic the protestors could be, and while we think it’s continued from outside, Alexis then enters the room and we realize she already had gone outside. They cruise off and Alexis reveals she couldn’t go through with it. Tyler tries to offer his support as the reality strikes him. It’s a brilliant portrayal of youth, in which the inability to handle such altering news causes both Tyler and Alexis to explode; each committed to their side and unleashing a tirade of insults and profanity as Alexis jumps out of the car and refuses to take a ride home. The pressure continues and Tyler further turns toward pills and alcohol, trying his best to return to working out. One night he returns home drunk, ending up puking on the bathroom floor where his sister finds him, worried that he’ll wake their parents. Things culminate in one of the most dramatic and realistic text scenes yet created as Tyler attempts to play nice guy to see if Alexis is going to keep the baby, cutting between nothing but his close up and the messages and yet providing a thrilling sequence as he loses all control, even over his ability to type lucidly before going on to destroy his entire bathroom. By now the movie’s chugging full steam ahead. Tyler has lost his girl who’s going to have his baby, can’t wrestle any longer and he turns further and further to booze and drugs. It’s here that the parallels between Euphoria and Waves is most apparent. Yet while Euphoria asks us to accept characters as they are, Waves show how characters become what they are. It’s of course melodramatic, but it captures a mood. Just today I read that millennials and subsequent generations are more depressed, anxious, and less healthy than Gen Xers. Waves’ plot itself isn’t all that unique, but the way in which it’s told is. The style isn’t as extreme as Euphoria and that’s what makes it work. Shults takes us through scenes by first focusing on what feels real rather than on what’s the most visually pleasing way to do it, and as a result, makes the film feel far more true to life. Things come to a head when Tyler follows Alexis going to prom on Instagram; pounding vodka and taking more pills while he watches alone in his room until he finally heads down to leave. He’s stopped by his step mom who he scolds until his father comes in who Tyler pushes down some steps and they kick him out. He heads off to the after party where in a brilliant and thrilling scene - as of this writing, the best of the year - where Tyler sneaks into the house and approaches Alexis, begging for forgiveness before he strikes her, causing her to collapse and crack her head open on the ground. Tyler takes off, heading back home, but quickly gets apprehended by the cops. He’s sentenced to life in jail. At two hours and fifteen minutes, I’m guessing this scene takes place at about 100 minutes in. Yet instead of allowing this climactic moment to end, the story continues on and fails to ever gain the same steam it had for the first two thirds. We then follow the sister Emily (Taylor Russell) who soon ends up with Tyler’s classmate Luke (Lucas Hedges) and they begin dating. We follow them on a similar journey, soon learning that Luke’s estranged dad is dying of cancer. The pair take ecstasy, later have sex, and appear to have a seemingly normal relationship. The film ends shortly after the pair visit Luke’s dad in the hospital which felt a bit jarring The first film that comes to mind is Place Beyond the Pines (2012) which takes a similar shift, in which I struggle to remember much from the second half and so much from the first. I’m left wondering what the reasoning was, as unfortunately, I kept experiencing that expectation that the film would end, only for it to keep on going for twenty more minutes. I’m sure another viewing is in order, as the connections could become more apparent, but Kelvin Harrison, Jr. is so good and his plot so riveting that it felt like this movie could have been near flawless if ended by the hour and forty five mark. It’s still an amazing piece of work, as even the hanging-chad has some beautiful moments, but it does show the danger in providing the climax just a third before the conclusion. BELOW: One of the best scenes of the year Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  They need another movie Director: James Mangold
Writer: Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth, and Jason Keller Cinematographer: Phedon Papamichael Producer: Peter Chernin, Jenno Topping, and James Mangold by Jon Cvack When Ford v Ferrari ended I was left nostalgic. The movie reminded me of the types of action and action-dramas I watched growing up - Apollo 13 (1995), Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000), fragments of Con Air (1997); the type of movie that took place within the realm of reality and not about blowing up as much shit as possible and puking out the most extravagant visual effects pieces possible (climax of Con Ari not withstanding). They’re all relatively small stories. Space capsules, cars driving around the city, a plane, a prison, and yet they all felt gigantic. In an interview during its screening at TIFF, James Mangold mentioned that in addition to the obvious, the story was about the creative process. There are the suits who represent the money given to a creative team to create a product and win a top prize. It’s not a stretch to say that this is one of the best movies I’ve seen about the process of making movies. The story involves the 1966 Le Man held yearly in France in which a team of drivers sponsored by the leading sports car manufacturers raced their designs for 24 hours straight. At this point in the story, Ferrari has won the previous three or four and back in the states, Ford Motor Company, led by Henry Ford II (Tracy Letts), is introduced years earlier by shutting down the assembly line and chastising his workers for failing to give enough passion. Vice President Lee Iacocca (Jon Bernthal) knows it’s because rather than attempting to create a sexy product competitive with burgeoning European sports cars, Ford has continued with bland and cheap designs that cater to the masses. Iacocca gives a presentation showing James Bond and his Aston Martin, explaining that the GI’s who’ve come home have gotten homes and found success and now want to spend their money on better toys. Ford and his worm-tongue sycophant executive Leo Beebe (Josh Lucas) laugh off the idea, refusing to sell by cars by using sex or power. Iacocca doesn’t back down. Ferrari has captured the world’s imagination. Again, they laugh, explaining that Ford spends as much on toilet paper as Ferrari spends on their entire fleet. Iacocca then tells them about their losses to Ferrari in the last few years of Le Man which captures Ford II’s attention. Having worked in production start ups for the last ten years I struggle to think of a better film that catches the condescending and pompous conservatism of business people. There’s an old phrase out in entertainment - to paraphrase, the easiest way to retain a job is to say no to big change or risky endeavors. When it comes to film - sequels, prequels, remakes, and bottomless franchises have dominated the space. As rogerebert.com’s Glenn Kelly says, “...a movie like ‘Ford v Ferrari’ would be a staple of studio fare. Nowadays, it’s actually considered a risk, despite being, by an older standard, about as mainstream as mainstream gets. ‘Ford v Ferrari’ delivers real cinema meat and potatoes. And its motor show spectacle deserves to be seen in a theater.” It all connects back to cinema. Ford could be seen as any of the major studios continuing to lean into franchises, averse to taking any type of risk. Then again the risk is actually high, as the number of original films within the same category which have failed is enough to make anyone cautious. Perhaps it’s not that studios are so risk-averse so much as waiting for the proper director to make it happen; such as Mangold did with Logan (creating one of the handful of MCU movies I enjoyed). It’s a demonstration of trust and it’s what makes Henry Ford II such an interesting character; he wants the profits but he also wants the respect and accolades. Just like any great studio head. Ford rejects the race, but instructs Iacocca to visit Italy and make Enzo Ferrari (Remo Girone) an offer to buy the company. Scuderia i surrounded by his own obsequious executives, one who secretly calls Fiat who counters with a far greater offer to buy Ferarri out. It was a con; Ferrari used Ford to up the bid. Humiliated, Ford agrees to race and win the Le Man, no matter the cost. Around all this, we meet Ken Miles (Christian Bale) as the sharp witted and irascible mechanic and race car driver with an endearing and beautiful wife Mollie (Caitriona Balfe) and equally charming kid Peter (Noah Jupe). He’s underwater with the IRS who soon swoop in and foreclose his business. I’m fairly certain this whole story was apocryphal, as it had that taste of a demand for extra stakes. It’s more interesting for Ken to race in order to provide for his family than just deciding to ignore his own safety. It’s also that type of scene that works in this type of film. If the point is to tell a great action-packed drama, then embellishing these details are for the greater good. Iacocca recruits Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) to build out the race car, who in a uniquely Matt Damon kind of monologue in which we’re not sure if he’s serious or bullshitting the other characters, he talks about how difficult it is to build a car and complete the race, let alone safely. Iacocca offers him a blank check and Matt Damon immediately hires Ken as the driver. There is a great majesty to how Mangold films these scenes, where even the smallest dialogue scenes feel large and part of a massive and exciting world. The colors are vibrant, of teals, whites, and salmons, often against a desert backdrop. The pace is fast, as when you see the movie is two and a half hours long, you wonder if it could maintain the story. Yet it immerses you within a tale of sport, business, mechanics, and philosophy where each scene rips you through the ideas. Arriving at a Ford event to kick off the challenge, Ken and his son find the newest mustang model as the public pines over it. Peter opens the door and checks inside and Leo Bebee demands he back up from the car, pissing off Ken who - not knowing the man - proceeds to state precisely why Mustang’s are just pretty ornaments disguising mediocre performance; a point I recall wondering about in the documentary A Faster Horse (2015); part history and part reality show as we watch Ford engineer’s design the next year’s Mustang model. One of the most fascinating moments is when all of the department heads get together in order to discuss how much power they can squeeze out of a small budget; again, comparable to a film production in attempting to create as good of product as they can within their limitations. Leo’s fractured ego demands he vindicate himself. After Ken demonstrates his skill, Leo takes Shelby aside, explaining that he needs to replace him, explaining that Ken doesn’t fit the image of Ford; that is, tall, built, charming, and American. Being the night before the race, Leo breaks the news. Crushed, Ken accepts like a gentleman, working in the garage throughout the next 24 hours, listening to the race on the radio. Ford loses big, and although it was Leo Bebee’s call he continues to move up the chain. In the film's best non-action scene, Shelby meets at Ford’s office, hanging outside and watching the team of his secretaries answering phones, responding to messages, and exchanging a red folder, soon ending up with Leo Bebee’s hands who leads him into the meeting where Bebee hands over the folder to Ford who wants to know why he shouldn't fire Shelby. In another incredible Damon monologue - this time fully authentic - Shelby explains how he watched the red folder exchange hands, assuming over twenty people probably touched it, each lending their thoughts and opinions until everyone can agree on what’s appropriate to present to Ford; a watered down mess of data that essentially boils down to minor changes and the status quo. Although I can’t find the specific quote, I believe he says “You can’t win a race by committee”; again, a shout out to the infamous problem of Art by Committee which plagues entertainment. Continue to part 2... BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Highly recommend watching Taikia Waititi on talk shows, awkwardly describing the plot Director: Taika Waititi Writer: Taika Waititi; based on Caging Skies by Christine Leunens Cinematographer: Mihai Mălaimare Jr. Producer: Carthew Neal, Taika Waititi, Chelsea Winstanley by Jon Cvack I’m confident that Nazi films will be around forever. In an acting class, I once said I was fascinated by Nazis, failing to clarify what I meant before making that statement. Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism (1973) and Richard Evans’ Third Reich Trilogy (2003-2008) are two of the most terrifying books that I’ve ever read in my life. To learn how a regime came to power by using a combination of racism, nationalism, and the system itself to rise to power and attempt to destroy entire groups of people. There’s a quote I keep seeing on Facebook about how the rise of fascism is due to a breakdown in thirds - a third supports, a third opposes, and the final third watches as it shifts, failing to see the significance. I no longer feel all that embarrassed to compare to Trump to the rise of fascism. Of course he’s not a brutal dictator, but he is showing how a more politically subtle and calculating figure could rise to power by using our system. Yes both sides pack the courts with their own ideology, but the right wing Federalist Society has a very conservative position on most issues and there’s nothing comparable in power to that. Every single Supreme Court Justice appointed by a Republican has come from the Federalist Society. Currently, there’s a case before the conservative court about the government’s ability to regulate the environment. The more conservative justices, the likelier it is that far right positions could be made precedent and prevent congress from enacting any form of law. Combine that with a court that has made both liberal and conservative presidential power stronger, and it could lead to a disproportionate dynamic between branches. However unlikely, it’s not impossible to imagine and it’s what makes the rise of the Third Reich all the more alarming. It is about one third that tried to fight and make a difference while the other third ignored them - hiding themselves or others in closets and abandoned streets, hoping to avoid detection, unsure when it would ever end. JoJo (Roman Griffin Davis) is a member of the Hitler Youth. He’s a klutzy kid, though hopes to be a great Nazi soldier. He’s encouraged by his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi) who’s straight from The Office but somehow not distracting. JoJo’s cared for by his mom Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) who’s the type of mom-as-friend that sticks its claws into your heart. They’ve lost contact with JoJo’s father who was last head at the Italian front, now left alone with each other. Taking place in the heart of Berlin, they’re relatively safe compared to the rest of Europe, assisted with JoJo’s indoctrinated insight toward Germany’s campaign. At camp, JoJo meets his drill instructor Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) who’s a famous soldier who lost an eye in battle, now training Hitler’s future soldiers. It all felt so odd at first, as I wasn’t sure if the movie was a satire of Nazi Germany, or attempting to make odd comedy out of a horrible moment in history. Then during a grenade experiment, as the boys throw potato mashers into a field and JoJo runs off through the woods, straight toward the grenade which explode and the film shits into a disturbing sequence demonstrating JoJo was severely fucked up and it’s not at all some cartoon or satire, at least not entirely. It’s comparable to The Death of Stalin combined with a Wes Anderson style, told entirely from a child’s perspective. Waititi opted for an unfamiliar though historically accurate rendition of Germany; abandoning the common pale blues, grays, and browns and instead embracing vibrant yellows, greens, blues, and reds; creating a bizarre world which felt welcoming while simultaneously orchestrating mass death. At first it doesn’t work, feeling like what some feared in keeping the content too loose, and then, once he discovers the Jewish girl in the closet, Elsa Korr (Thomasin McKenzie), it all comes together. The Last Metro (1980), Schindler’s List (1993), and Life is Beautiful (1997) all contain some rendition of this story. It is the ultimate horror of characters gambling with capture and certain brutal death; an idea so far from America that we as a culture fail to comprehend the dynamic. For as much as the country was founded on slavery and destruction of Native Americans, white Americans themselves have never dealt with such levels of government terrorism and uncertainty. It makes Rosie’s performance all the stronger, in realizing that her attitude is all a facade, and that in fact she’s willing to fight to the death to bring down the Nazis. Leading up to one of the most cinematically heart-breaking scenes, Waititi provides intimate moments between JoJo and his mother, often with JoJo sitting down in close up, leaving the left or right frame empty, and in close up we see Rosie’s red shoes feet dance into frame. Somewhere between that, Rosie and JoJo come across a public hanging of local members of the resistance. Later, JoJo finds his mother leaving subversive paper messages around town; realizing that his mother is both protecting his alleged enemy, and attempting to overthrow his philosophy. The Gestapo soon end up at their house where Inge appears, pretending to be JoJo’s dead sister in order to prevent them from finding his mom. Captain Klenzendorf soon enters and they ask for Inge’s passport, leading Elsa to Inge’s old desk, digging through and we’re left wondering the chances of escape. She removes the passport and Klenzendorf checks it, asking for Inge’s birthday, Elsa responds, seemingly correct and Klenzendorf leads the Gestapo out. Moments later, Elsa looks at the papers again and discovers she was a few days off. Later, JoJo walks through the town square alone, his head down, dejected and like the previous scene his mother’s shoes enter the squeeze; except instead of dancing, they’re still and without seeing the gallows, we understand. I can’t recall such an audible realization in the theater. It was cinema at its finest. An example of what the medium provides and where it can take you. Somehow placing you within the child’s mind and then pulling you beyond it. I’ve never heard so many people cry for so long. In a flash, I was left recalling that just an hour or so before I was wondering if the film was just some over the top crude comedy attempting to make light of Nazis. The choice seems deliberate, immersing you into a child’s perspective, using design, performance, and light and color to provide the hope and distraction before shocking us with this moment of realism. From my recollection, beyond the red - blood red - shoes, it’s one of the few times where the frame was desaturated and drained. For the first moment JoJo grasps the destruction around him. The Allies close in and the film takes an even more terrific turn where the Nazi soldiers recruit the Hitler Youth to take up weapons and defend their position. Comparable to Hitchcock never showing a knife penetrating skin in Pyscho’s (1960) shower sequence, Waititi never shows a child getting shot dead, but a mixture of sound and imagery make us comprehend it. The Death of Stalin (2017)provided a similar shift for its conclusion, abandoning satire and turning toward absolute horror. And somehow Waititi keeps it going, as after JoJo dodges the fight, now wearing a Nazi coat, he’s captured by the Soviets, rounded up to be executed where he meets Captain Klenzendorf who’s dragged out in his custom made bedazzled soldier garment. Knowing that JoJo fails to grasp his fate, he comforts the boy before removing the jacket and calls him a Jew. The soviets let him go, rounded the others up, and JoJo hears the gunshots moments later. It’s one of the year’s best scenes. JoJo returns to Elsa and lies about the Allies winning the war, fearing he’ll lose her. The act quickly breaks apart, providing the film’s one awkward hiccup; feeling like a dishonest prank for JoJo to play. I was left imaging if after Elsa asked who won they then walked out and danced in the streets. It’s easy enough to ignore as Elsa grasps her freedom and JoJo struggles with his reality; happy that the fighting is over, but not entirely sure for what it means for his Nazi worldview. As of writing this, the Golden Globes nominated the film for Best Comedy. For a film that had people in the audience crying for nearly a third of the running time, I’m left wondering about the ratio. Yes, the movie is funny, but the heart and drama is right up against it. It’s one of the best movies of the year, taking a story that seems like it’s been told over and over again and somehow providing a fresh take on the era both visually and within the narrative. This is another satire of the time; the way we’ll look back to The Death of Stalin and say that this is a movie about now - about how people ignore evil so long as it doesn’t affect them. Until people can empathize with the most vulnerable, history is doomed to repeat these mistakes. The movie makes you laugh, but days later you’re realizing how easy it is for the world to shift under bright colors and happy thoughts. BELOW: Always the most thrilling scene in a Nazi flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Easy on the eyes Director: Robert Eggers Writer: Robert Eggers Cinematographer: Jarin Blaschke Producer: Rodrigo Teixeira, Daniel Bekerman, Lars Knudsen, Jodi Redmond, and Jay Van Hoy by Jon Cvack In terms of the new generation of cinematic directors, Robert Eggers is one of the most exciting. The premise of The Lighthouse is known without needing to see anything more than the poster. An eerie Lovecraftian/Pinter black and white hybrid about two lighthouse keepers attempting to cope with island fever, featuring two A-list players. It’s the type of film that forms an immediate image in your head which you pray will match your expectations. It does, holding them all the way to the end. The story involves rookie lighthouse keeper Ephraim Winslow (Robert Pattinson) and Thomas Wake (Willem Dafoe) as the elderly boss as they arrive by boat on a small island with a modest lighthouse attached to a decrepit cabin. From the gate and without gratuity, we learn the situation - they are stationed there for six weeks, Thomas is the boss and an alcoholic, Ephraim doesn’t drink. So begins a story that’s hard to summarize, which only another viewing could possibly provide, so consider this some initial thoughts which will expand in the future. Ephraim quickly realizes that his job is to do all of the work while Thomas hangs out at the lighthouse. He mops and washes floors, polishes metal as though sanding it down, and repaints the lighthouse, all while failing to meet Thomas’ expectations. There is nothing he can do that is right and soon a mixture of criticism and solitude causes Ephraim to turn back to the bottle, leading him and Thomas to get drunk and enjoy their first debaucherous night and from there it descends into madness. Whenever I watch or read Harold Pinter, Samuel Beckett, or other absurdists, I’m left wondering how their work could inspire a film. The Lighthouse provides that exact idea. It’s the type of story that I see people immediately trying to categorize within the realm of the plausible; that for whatever reason, no matter the images or methods, this is something that is actually happening, rather than serving as metaphor. My initial experience is that the film is about someone in hell - either figuratively or literally; whether mental or actual. We learn that Ephraim is a murderer and rapist and that he had given up drinking to avoid the impulses he once had. Throughout the film are Lovecraftian flashbacks to images of octopuses, a dead woman, and a sexualized and terrifying mermaid showing all the detailed anatomy used to lure men. Ephraim is also being harassed by a one eyed seagull that he later destroys in the film’s most horrifying scene, whipping the bird into the concrete as it explodes into a feathery and bloody mess. Throughout the film Ephraim is determined to get to the lighthouse, going so far as to drag a full kerosene drum up the winding staircase, taking each step one by one only for Thomas to tell him to take it back back down; made all the more complicated by the hyper masculine yet homoerotic dynamic between the two characters, with Ephraim going so far as to kiss Thomas. It all adds up into a bizarre story whose abstraction shouldn’t work and yet somehow keeps chugging all the way to the end. My immediate impression is that Ephraim had killed and raped a woman in some seaside town, was executed, and now lives on the hellish island where he’s forced to confront his future self, never able to get off. When he reaches the light I don’t see his salvation so much as the process beginning all over again; with Ephraim and Thomas back on the boat, looking toward the flashing light once again. I lean toward a purgatory in which Ephraim is constantly tested - to have sex with the mermaid, to abstain from booze, and to avoid killing Thomas as he fails over and over again; having to relive the experience. The film is a refreshing glimpse into the imagination - not to revert to mental delusion or dreams, but to dive deep into an alternative world. At times there is a bit too much abstraction, but it was drowned out by the imagery and shattering performances. It’s the pinnacle of having an actor convey emotion with words as I only understood about two thirds of what was said. I felt as though I was on a ride, forced and willingly accepting the unfamiliar. Combined with some of the most haunting cinematography I’ve seen in years*. It was a movie experience I’ll never forget. *Robert Eggers somehow allowed a 1.19 x 1 aspect ratio to take on widescreen proportions as he had the wings of the frame in black, blending in with the theater screen. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life; a movie that physically shifted between ratios. BELOW: Cute couple Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the coolest characters of this century Director: Quentin Tarantino Writer: Quentin Tarantino Cinematographer: Robert Richardson Producer: David Heyman, Shannon McIntosh, and Quentin Tarantino by Jon Cvack I haven’t revisited many of Tarantino’s films after Kill Bill (2003/2004). I’ve watched the opening scene of Reservoir Dogs (1992) more times than I can remember, I’ve seen Pulp Fiction (1994) so many times it’s now lost its magic, Jackie Brown (1997) gets better and better with age, and Kill Bill is arguably his magnum opus - and if not his best film, at least his most technically proficient (though my favorite remains Reservoir Dogs). The first time I noticed a magic had been lost was with Death Proof (2007). Revisiting the extended version a couple years ago (which is nearly two hours long), I enjoyed the story more than the first time (likely due to the longer running time), yet something felt missing. Whatever holistic universe Tarantino had created up to that point felt mostly absent. From there he made Inglourious Basterds (2009) which is by far the best of his post-Kill Bill filmography; though even that film I haven’t gone back to more than a couple times, serving as the first Tarantino film that took place beyond his hard boiled world, followed by Django Unchained (2012) and The Hateful Eight (2015); the latter which I liked a lot but struggled to finish on a second viewing, the former I’ve failed to see again, not because I don’t like it but because if I’m in the mood for a Tarantino film I’m probably going to grab one of his first five movies instead. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.. continued this shift, following an ailing movie star and his stunt buddy/body double who becomes - for the most part - tangentially involved with the Manson murders. It was the type of plot that got you excited for what Tarantino would do; both for offering his vision of 1960s Los Angeles and Hollywood when movies remained the pinnacle of culture and the Vietnam War led to a counter culture that would one day be corrupted by a murderous cult leader, Charles Manson Manson. A few years back I’d read Bela Lugosi’s Helter Skelter (1974) - a detailed historical account, widely considered the definitive book on the Manson murders. From Manson’s self-comparison to Jesus in Haight-Ashbury to his friendship to Beach Boy Danny Wilson to his recruitment of estranged hippie girls and their use of LSD to his move to Death Valley where he prepared for what he believed was an inevitable race war - at 600 pages, the story is truly incredible and arguably the most gripping true story in a century. Granted, Tarantino’s film isn’t necessarily about the Manson murders, and for what it does include, his film’s not wrong for focusing on the Hollywood portion. Nevertheless, given that it’s Quentin fucking Tarantino - an individual who is an encyclopedia of pop knowledge, you can’t help but feel disappointed in how little of the history is explored. The film opens up with an interview on the set of the television series Bounty Law between actor Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his stunt double and driver Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). From the get go, there’s something stilted about the conversation; feeling as though the lines are being performed rather than the natural flow of Tarantino’s typical opening dialogue. It might have been the point; in having two characters act for the goofy interviewer, maybe even playing as a joke, but the night after watching this I pulled up the opening Reservoir Dog scene and was hooked for the whole twelve minutes; where each character felt real and saying the lines in the moment. I still don’t know how this works given how goofy the situation is. There was a rawness and love for the rough, bizarre, and unattractive; a willingness to show people we have never seen. With Bounty Law over, Dalton fears for his career, developing a drinking problem as a result. Dalton and Cliff head to a local lounge for a couple drinks where they meet agent Marvin Schwarzs (Al Pacino), warning Dalton that he’s now becoming a “heavy man”; that is, an actor who only serves to be the television villain that gets killed or arrested. And as he ages, those roles could increasingly dry up. Schwarzs recommends Dalton get involved with the Italian spaghetti westerns craze over in Italy. Dalton finds the idea appaleing; seeing them as little more than B-movies, if that. Cliff hasn't been hired as a stunt double in some time, both because of Dalton’s limited work and since he’s burned his contacts after rumors spread that he killed his wife. He lives in a trailer with a pitbull named Brandy and a comparable drinking problem to Dalton. Dropping Dalton home one night, they see director Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate pulling up to their house next door; exciting Dalton for the chance that it could help his fledgling career. The next day Cliff sees who we surmise is Charlie Manson walking up to the Polanski house. After seeing a cute hippie girl (Margaret Qualley) around town, Dalton later goes to the set of The Wrecking Crew where he’s once again the heavy man and tries to get Cliff on as a stunt coordinator for Randy’s crew (Kurt Russell). Randy refuses because rumor has it that Cliff killed his wife, but Randy soon gives in and later Cliff gets in a fight with Bruce Lee on the neighboring set of The Green Hornet which is a weird scene in which Cliff looks to be about to kick the shit out of Lee until Randy appears and puts an end to it; firing him. The scene is a perfect example of Tarantino’s biggest weakness since Kill, in which he offers tangential scenes that seem to have nothing to do with the plot; once reserved for dialogue that had nothing to do with the characters, but with characters that were very much involved with the plot. Dalton leaves and finds the hippie girl hitchhiking and offers her a ride home, learning her name is Pussycat. She comes on strong, offering to repay him with sexual favors to which Cliff demands an ID, settling on letting her lie her head in his lap while he drives her off to the Spahn Ranch on the city edges. Spahn Ranch is an old western set, true to the Manson stories, which Cliff of course knows about with his past work; specifically the owner, George Spahn (Bruce Dern). Dalton is then back on the set of Lancer, playing the heavy man opposite the show’s lead James Stacy (Timothy Olyphant); who for some reason looks like a complete dork, playing a clean cut sheriff, which I guess was the point, but seemed completely wrong for Olyphant who thrives with his gray hair and five o’clock shadow, often intimidating even when being goofy, such as Santa Clarita Diet. Before shooting begins, Dalton meets up with a young girl Trudi Fraser (Julia Butters) and again Tarantino enters in an incredibly and needlessly long dialogue. Writing this almost two weeks later (and reviewing this after I revisited the film about a month ago), I fail to remember a single thing discussed other than that Dalton leaves feeling empowered. We’re then on the set and so begins the best part of the movie as we watch Dalton perform on this cheesy western show, with things going fine until he starts forgetting lines, leading him to go freak out in his dressing room and deliver another classic scene from Leo that’ll be watched for years. He returns to the set and knocks it out of the park and the girl compliments him in a moment that’s now become a meme. He regains confidence and heads home with Cliff and the two watch his role The F.B.I. and Schwarz finally convinces him to go to Italy and star in the spaghetti westerns. But we don’t get to follow him there; the film instead jumping time to his return. I’m still confused by this as it seemed like one of the most exciting sequences Tarantino could have shot; showing the world of Spaghetti westerns. I imagined him emulating Sergio Leone, Corbucci, and others. We don’t see any of it and instead get a weird Kurt Russell voice over that explains everything (albeit with some cool posters), serving as little more than exposition as the story jumped half a year. Between all this, Dalton and Pussycat make it to the Spahn Ranch, finding the place filled with dozens of hippies who stare them down, led by Gypsy (Lena Dunham). The scene builds as Dalton wonders where his old buddy George is and the hippies do all they can to avoid letting him inside. This has to be one of the biggest blue ball moments in recent cinematic history as I drifted to the edge of my seat, anxious to see the Manson story start up and instead, although Tarantino couldn’t make the kids look anymore unnerved and crazed to avoid Dalton finding George, Dalton enters and finds the guy passed out in bed and just a bit confused; as though waking your grandfather from a nap. I suppose that’s the joke and the reality, but it just tanked the scene. Dalton returns a year later, now married to Francesca Capucci (Lorenza Izzo), serving as a type of pre-modern hot woman who screams and yells, all without speaking a word of English. Even with all this seeming success and after being offered a lead in a new series, Dalton then fires Cliff, saying he can’t afford him, having to care for his wife and all. The two decide to have one last night of drinking and return to Dalton’s place where Cliff pulls out an acid dipped cigarette and goes to walk the dog and light it up while Dalton makes some more margaritas and practices his lines in the pool; all while his wife sleeps. Cliff sees some hippies dressed in black trying to get into Polanski’s place and scares them off, but they only then park down the street, with the teenagers offering some cringe-heavy lines about killing, as though written by a fourteen year old emulating Tarantino. They then decide to go and try and kill Dalton and Cliff instead. They head up, Cliff starts feeling the effects of the acid, and Dalton floats in his pool with headphones on, trying to memorize his lines. The hippies approach and so begins the Tarantino scene that we all wait for in each film, and while pretty fun, similar to the Spahn Ranch, fails to deliver. It’s not Pussycat or Gypsy that leads the raid, but four hippies we don’t recognize. Dalton is then tripping on acid, but aside from his shark eye pupils and some mannerisms, there’s no visual cue as to how much he’s tripping. I was immediately thinking of Midsommar (2019) and how well it pulled off psychedelics and how well it could have worked here; not requiring some crazy visuals, but rather providing the subtle effects - light tracers, morphing backgrounds, or amplified colors. Instead, we’re just watching someone tripping on acid, battling four characters we don’t know. It’s a fun enough fight scene, but the potential for where it could have gone was just too apparent. In the end, the hippies die and Polanski and Sharon come home after the police leave and invite Dalton over; possibly reviving his career. There have been online rumors that Tarantino is going to continue the story with a mini-series, and I do think it might be where the story’s salvaged. There was just too much more I was left wanting. Sharon Tate alone has maybe a dozen or so lines. For a powerhouse like Margot Robbie taking up the role, you can’t feel like she was shorted a classic Tarantino female role; serving as little more than a background historical figure, involved with anything else beyond being a neighbor and potential victim. Maybe this is simply the pilot of a much longer story, and if so, maybe this is one of the greatest pilots ever made. Until then, I left feeling disappointed. It was a fun world to live in and see through Tarantino’s eyes, but when I keep watching clips from Jackie Brown throughout writing this, it’s just not nearly as close to creating the engaging stories Tarantino provided with his first five films. Tarantino has famously declared that he’s only going to make ten films, as so few directors have been able to keep making quality work beyond that. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood foreshadows what he means. It’s not a bad film, but it feels like he’s been disconnected from the rough, working class world he created. I hope he returns to crime for his last film, and I still have faith that he could make it work the way we always hope for a Tarantino film, but it feels like for a man who’s been making the creme de la creme of world cinema, his bag of tricks is running out, emulated and evolved far too much for them to keep working. As a note, I revisited the film after a buddy said it was his favorite movie of the year and that it required repeated viewings. I understood and remained hopeful. I thought Sideways (2004) was just pretty good when I first saw it. Now it’s one of my favorite films. While the first two thirds was better than I recalled, all of the criticisms stand, and the weird time jump for the last third was all the more jarring. It felt like rather than focusing on one thing and giving it all he had, Tarantino was drawn too thin; trying to cram way too much into the story, made all the worse the worse when certain moments drag on, making me wonder why I’m focused on a meaningless conversation when I’m watching a film about the Manson murders in Hollywood. BELOW: Best scene of the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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