 Michael Shannon's best role Director: Guillermo del Toro Writer: Dan Laustsen Cinematographer: Guillermo del Toro and Vanessa Taylor Producer: Guillermo del Toro and J. Miles Dale by Jon Cvack After I struggling year after year over what to get my parents and sister for Christmas, I started taking them out to a meal and a movie where we could share an experience rather than buying them a generic gift card. Last year I took them to The Big Short (2015), which I was seeing for the third time, and figured they might enjoy, taking a complex idea and explaining it with great characters and an accessible story. Unfortunately, being avid Fox News viewers and my dad being a banker, it wasn’t their favorite screening. Last year, my dad had initially mentioned Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015) and so I figured pitching Star Wars: The Force Awakens would be moderate enough to please all sides. It didn’t, with my sister uninterested and my mom saying she watched a film critic mention how The Shape of Water was his favorite film of the year (which I was surprised to hear, for reason below). The Shape of Water is one of my top three films of the year, completely exceeding my expectations. It’s a Jean-Pierre Jeunet film meets a 1950s Creature Film, taking and progressing Jeunet’s defined style and implementing it within the worlds Guillermo is so great at creating, providing just enough sex and gore to satisfy our wonder at how to update a now classical period. The film opens up at an old single screen theater in 1962 Baltimore, where a muted woman Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) wakes up everyday with the same routine of making eggs followed by masturbating in the bathtub (which even at 31 years old somehow became one of the more embarrassing movie watching experiences I’ve ever shared with my family [American Beauty still holds first place]). Ellen works at a secret underground government laboratory with one of her best friends, Zelda (Octavia Spencer). A new creature has been captured from South America, held in a steel water casket, where the facility’s researchers will begin to examine it. It was brought in by Colonel Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon; providing possibly his finest role), who eats green candies and is one of the most despicable characters I’ve seen on screen in years. Elisa is enraptured by the creature, even after Strickland is brutally attacked, losing two of his fingers, which Ellen is forced to pick up in the lab, then offering some hard boiled eggs to the creature who enjoys the treat. Soon she starts abandoning Zelda at lunch in order to spend more time with the creature, quickly developing an emotional attraction that, while very weird, is somehow believable due to Sally Hawkins prowess. However, when lab scientist and soviet spy Robert Huffstetler (Michael Stuhlbarg) finds Ellen hiding in the lab during an impromptu visit from the General in charge of the operation and the General orders them to destroy the creature, Huffstetler decides to help Elisa kidnap the creature from the lab. She recruits her gay neighbor and ailing illustrator Giles (Richard Jenkins), who also struggles with loneliness, attempting to finish his latest project in the hopes he can finally get his career back on track. The performance is one of Jenkins’ best, which while embodying the melancholy found in most of his roles, somehow adds an extraordinary amount of depth, substance, and development without feeling routine. Zelda joins the mini-crew as well and so the film transforms from a dreamy creature feature love story and into a heist film. What makes the film work so well is its ability to gradually exceed your expectations, compounding and growing exponentially to where, by the end, I honestly had no idea where it was going. And while such a strategy has failed time and again with fantasy and sci-fi movies - which often abandon any attempt at redesigning story by punching up the effects to the maximum degree - Guillermo instead takes all of the tropes that worked through the history of cinema and adds a modern touch, going places that even Jean-Pierre Jeunet wasn’t willing to; in this case, violence and gore, which again, while being easy to do wrong and easily offend, operates just as beautifully as the world it exists in. Elisa goes on to sleep with the creature, and while I was dreading the inevitable situation (again, was with my parents) and though it wasn’t perfect, Guillermo somehow pulled it off. There have been stories the explore similar ideas - Beauty and the Beast, Hunchback of Notre Dame, etc. - but so often they have focused on romance between the two characters rather than the raw desire. When Elisa touches the creature, and given her morning masturbation routine, we see her feelings are much more rooted in lust than love; and that beyond companionship is the fundamental urge to have that desire satiated In a year where films like Get Out (2017) and Lady Bird (2017) seem to be revered for the wrong reasons (I still think Get Out’s position as a top film of the year embodies the exact concern the film is criticizing; that is, replace the film’s Obama third term joke with a bunch of white film critics declaring Get Out is the best film in years; again, imagine all of them declaring they can’t possibly be racist because of this fact). If we want to explore gender, sex, inclusion, and equality than The Shape of Water is as fine as they come. Given that it’s main characters all range from gay to colored to queer, it’s demonstrably the most egalitarian film of the year. Aside from soaring beyond narrative expectations is flipping our own expectations about sex and love on their head; Jenkins greatest accomplishment is making us love him as a friend, wishing we had some one like him in our lives, in which his sexuality disappears and we see him for the great person he is. The same goes for Zelda, and of course, due to Guillermos’ and Hawkins’ great talent, we are able to see one of the most queer relationships on screen and in the most intimate terms. The greatest stories build empathy and hold up the looking glass to our own world. This film shines in that regard; using a fantastical story as a way to show that there’re a broad range of people in the world, and how many of them are just like you and me, with the same desire to be loved and touched. And with how hard it is to find such things, the choice a person makes about who provides such things is really none of our business. We should simply be happy that they’re happy, and spend more time worrying about those who actually hurt people. BELOW: In saying all this, the film is strikingly similar to Splash (1984) Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
0 Comments
 Gave a heck of an Oscar speech This was the first film that I had heard Awards buzz about, premiering at Venice Film Festival and later winning Toronto Film Festival’s top prize and, as of this writing, the People’s Choice Award. Early reviews celebrated Frances McDormand’s performance, anticipating the top prize at next year’s Oscar, with Sam Rockwell cruising right behind her, having been under the radar throughout the last decade or so, with only director Martin McDonagh’s previous film Seven Psychopaths (2012) getting Rockwell back onto the screen (though in fairness, I didn’t remember him from the film; nor much of the film overall). I enjoyed In Bruges (2008), though not necessarily on board with its cult status, where it felt like for the next five years or so it was near or at the top of most people’s favorite films list. I thought Seven Psychopaths was okay, but I struggle to remember much of what happened, never feeling like the film found its soul amongst its clear and clean synopsis. Three Billboards Outside of Ebbing, Missouri fits somewhere in the middle of both narratives, abandoning all of the action and shoot em ups in order to focus on a more intimate character study, though again failing to ever penetrate the surface of what are just a bunch of wacky characters, feeling as though it wanted to be part Coen brothers, part Tarantino, part Jeff Nichols, and about a half dozen other filmmakers, leaving it with so much flavor that it all devolves into muddied dish, never deciding what it wanted to be. The story involves Mildred Hayes (McDormand) whose daughter had recently been raped and murdered. With the police failing to make any progress, she purchases three billboards in the town of Ebbing, Missouri - right down the street from her house, painting them with the cryptic three lines: “Raped while dying”, “And still no arrest”, “How come Sheriff Bill Willoughby?”. Sheriff Willoughby in this case is played by Woody Harrelson (who I didn't even know was in the film), as the small town’s policeman who been recently diagnosed with cancer. Part of his ragtag team of deputies is the volatile and racist alcoholic Officer Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell) who has allegedly - and maybe admits, I can’t remember - to torturing black people amongst other forms of complete disregard for the law. The police, particularly Dixon, are offended by Mildred’s act, though while Willoughby wants it down, he also empathizes with Mildred’s frustration and demand for justice. The protest attracts some local media attention, which brings back Mildred’s ex-husband Charlie (John Hawkes) who, while gaunt, pale, and just plain weird looking, is able to begin dating a fairly attractive 17-year old - who the type of character people should be offended by being played as a vapid airhead, unable to comprehend the situation around her; as though pulled straight from Mean Girls (2004), Can’t Hardly Wait (1998), or any other popular teen comedy. In this deep southern town, where everyone’s overweight and has some accent, the valley girl was completely out of left field. So this is the general plot, which by all accounts, is pretty interesting, and while I was expecting some type of Prisoners (2013) or Mystic River (2003) type of film (I wasn’t familiar with McDonough's name to know his previous work), it’s as though he simply wanted a world to set this situation in order to insert a bunch of other quirky characters, as very little makes sense in this story at the micro level. Getting into some significant spoiler territory, we can start with the bizarre scene between Mildred and Charlie, when the news is starting to pick up, him and his mom get into an hackneyed and foul screaming match, leading her to dump cereal on her their son Robbie Hayes’ (Lucas Hedges) head, just as his dad then arrives, who again is sickly skinny and pallid, launching into a fight that felt straight from an intro acting class, especially when the 17-year old girlfriend comes in, asking something so stupid that I can’t even remember what it was (it might have been about the bathroom), other than thinking - beyond the illogic of her failing to hear this fight - of all reasons to come in the house, this had felt done a billion times for similar situations in which an outside and irrelevant party enters an argument with a family, stumbling in respons. It quickly escalates into domestic violence, a knife comes out, and I was left thinking - what the fuck did that have to do with anything? By being such an uninspired scene, there was no character development; as it felt like everyone was playing a version of a famous stage personality. Another bizarre issue occurs when Sheriff Willoughby, although only early into his cancer treatment, decides to kill himself after taking his gorgeous wife Anne (Abbie Cornish) and two young girls to the middle of park next to a river, in order to sleep with Anne outside in the woods, where you then realize his wife is British, which isn’t weird, it just creates questions that I don’t really think have all that interesting of answers (not that it necessarily needs answers), but again, similar to the 17 year old girlfriend, could have been so much better if casted as a more believable local character. At twenty years younger than Harrelson and looking that much younger in the film, this would mean when Willoughby was a 45 police officer when he hooked up with 25 year old wife to be. A little creepy. Any way - he decides to shoot himself in the head after their date, leaving his wife to find him with his head blown off in a barn, leaving his girls without a father, and while maybe it was in some way related to the shame he had for not finding Mildred’s daughter’s killer, it just felt like a needlessly dramatic and shocking scene that could have better worked by keeping him alive. Sam Rockwell’s story is by far the best, though again it falls into a strange illogic, as after Dixon tries to strongarm the advertising owner Red (Caleb Landry Jones; who I’m excited to see more from) who’s renting the billboards to Mildred to break the deal. Red refuses and so Dixon assaults and nearly kills the man by throwing him out a window, returning to the office and finally getting fired when the new African American sheriff Abercrombie (Clarke Peters) sees the act. The scene is all done in one take, and while it could have been cool with purpose, I just couldn’t agree that a police officer would be this stupid or last this long, not to mention when his former friend and fellow officer then invites him back to the station to drop of his keys after hours, where he then just so happens to catch Mildred tossing Molotov Cocktails at the station, trying to burn it down. A perfect example of plot serving at the expense of logic. I could go on into other details, such as the character James played by Peter Dinklage who once again is the butt of a bunch of dwarf jokes, leaving me wondering if Dinklage was offended or not, as this can’t possibly happen to every single one of his characters and it didn’t need to happen here, as having been in the town so long, you’d think these cheap jokes would get old. The film never really wraps or goes anywhere, so much as each character is essentially taken to the limits of an unresolved the story. Dixon and Mildred then join forces after Dixon suspects one of the locals of being the rapist, entering into a manhunt that goes so far as the car, and while I kind of appreciated the ambiguous ending, it felt like where the film ends is where the midpoint should have been. Ultimately, maybe it’s because I’m from Chicagoland, but the biggest problem is that this film feels like it’s just poking fun at a bunch of stupid midwesterns. It provides a cursory look at what could have been a broad range of fascinating people, abandoning insight for unmotivated action and some cheap jokes. While In Bruges made me feel like the filmmaking team had been there, understood and grasped the culture, Ebbing, Missouri felt fake, as though it could have taken place anywhere else in rural America. For identifying such a specific place, I expected far greater depth, as the Coen Brothers have established with Fargo (1996) and the honest world they portrayed. This felt like it was created with a glance, abandoning all of the details that makes an area great in order to insert shiny bells and whistles with colorful character and big action. BELOW: Cool oner, just not sure why it was needed Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A brilliant performance from Saoirse Ronan Director: Greta Gerwig Writer: Greta Gerwig Cinematographer: Sam Levy Producer: Scott Rudin, Eli Bush, and Evelyn O'Neill by Jon Cvack While writing this, Greta Gerwig has started to win award after award for this film - Best Director and Best Film at National Board of Review, Best Film at New York Film Critics, and I’m sure she’ll grab either best screenplay and director at the Independent Spirit Awards (it was the former). I think this is a good movie, providing an intimate portrait in a time of a young woman’s coming of age; from a genre that, at first thought, seems to be lacking and yet when looking back is actually filled with rich material from the female perspective.. Recently I watched Now and Then (‘95) which is the female Stand By Me (‘86), and while not quite as morbid, possesses all of the qualities that make any great coming of age film; capturing a period in time that makes you excited for the summer and all its adventure, all while reflecting on your own teen years and the lessons you learned. Other famous additions include Sixteen Candles (‘84), Heathers (‘88), The Virgin Suicides (‘99), Mona Lisa Smile (‘03), Juno (‘07), and An Education (‘09), all phenomenal films, some told by women, others focused on women, and each providing intimate portraits of women which extend beyond the superficial elements of boys and love; showing a side of life that a male dominated industry doesn’t often get to have. Before Lady Bird, the most recent popular addition is from Lena Dunham and her incredible debut, made for under a $100,000, providing a deeply vulnerable tale of a confused fresh college grad trying to figure out where she’s going, which would pave the way for her hit series Girls. The last few years have brought awareness to the appalling lack of women and other underrepresented directors and storytellers, and as the market attempts to correct the problem, unfortunately I think that many are using Lady Bird as as indication of how quickly the market has corrected. Unfortunately, for a movie that has adopted many of the tropes from its predecessors I think there’s an overreaction going on, which again, isn’t to say the movie isn’t great, but in terms of being the Best Film and Best Director of the year, seems a bit like an overreaction. And for those who might decry sexism, I’d fully support Kathryn Bigelow and her highly underrated and incredibly important film Detroit (2017) winning any of the top awards (which was ignored entirely), as at least it was removing the curtain on race in America and shedding light on a deeply tragic moment in history, all told by immersing us into the period, looking as though the filmmakers had teleported. Every year I anticipate the indie-film-that-could, as there’s always one a year which balances comedy with quirky characters and deadpan humor. Little Miss Sunshine (‘06) , 500 Days of Summer (‘09), Ruby Sparks (‘12), Safety Not Guaranteed (‘12)- films that feel as though they were all produced and written by the same filmmaking team who were attempting to replicate and mildly improve upon the previous year’s quirky indie film. These movies aren’t bad so much as feel so manufactured, embodying the alleged essence of “Independent Cinema” at the expense of a unique worldview. While Lady Bird contains far more heart that most of these films, I just can’t understand why or how this film is celebrated when so many before it have failed to gain the same recognition, and when there were so many other incredible movies by female directors - The Beguiled (in which Sofia Coppola was accused of whitewashing history), Detroit (in which Bigelow was chastised for sensationalizing white on black violence), and Lynne Ramsey’s You Were Never Here (listed as one of 2018’s best of the year). I can’t help but think this is a different form of discrimination, in which strong female driven stories are overlooked in favor of commercially successful films, making Greta Gerwig’s success fall simply on the fact of making the most accessible, agreeable, and safest film. Lady Bird is an autobiographical story that takes place in Sacramento in 2002. The title character is Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson, played by Saoirse Ronan who steals the entire show, as a high school senior whose dad has been unemployed for years while her mom Marion McPherson (Laurie Metcalf) tries to pick up as many shifts as possible at the vet. Nevertheless, the family is poor, nervous about Christine’s desire to go to an East Coast college as her parents can hardly afford a state school as it is. Lady Bird has a scholarship to a Christian School where she joins the small theater team with her best friend Julie Steffans (Beanie Feldstein; Jonah Hill’s sister) who’s an overweight student who of course has that weirdness required of any best friend in a quirky indie film. Lady Bird begins dating Danny O’Neill (Lucas Hedges; son of filmmaker Peter Hedges who made What’s Eating Gilbert Grape (‘93) and Pieces of April (‘03), amongst other films), leaving her thrilled to finally have a boyfriend, until she catches him making out with a dude in the bathroom. She then meets the the bad boy in a band Kyle Scheible (Timothée Chalamet) who is introduced reading Howard Zinn’s “A People’s History” and talks about his commitment to abandoning money. Lady Bird ends up losing her virginity to him under the pretense that he too is a virgin, only to learn that he can’t remember how many girls he’s slept with. As the story often goes, Lady Bird descends further and further into despair, nervous that she can’t even get into the colleges she wants to go to, let alone pay for them, trying to maintain a healthy relationship with her mother, and struggling to maintain her bond with Julie when she befriends the most popular and gorgeous girl in school Jenna Walton (Odeya Rush), leading her to start ditching Julie as she starts going out partying with some new friends. Each of these chapters contains a solid balance between drama and comedy, as for instance, when her ex-boyfriend Danny approaches, breaking down in tears for being caught with a boy, begging her not to tell anyone what happened, or when Lady Bird finally understands that Julie is, in fact, her best friend, and provides one of the most touching moments of the entire film. The problem is most of these conflicts and rights of passage have been done so often before, and while maybe if the film wasn’t being regarded as the Best Film of the Year, I could actually look past the repeat of tropes (it’s what makes the genre stay fresh, as each generation has their own coming of age story), it’s the very fact that it’s being so celebrated when incorporating so many unoriginal elements that I can’t help but wonder why this film when so many others were overlooked in the past? I have a feeling it’s about correction and unfortunately, with so many other great female directed stories this year, it’s a confusing decision and seems to simplify a far more complex problem. A woman shouldn’t receive critical acclaim just because of a financially successful film, especially when so many other female-directed films pushed the audiences in new directions and progressed the format forward. I could relate to many of these moments, of flirting with the popular crowd and abandoning friendships; of first loves gone awry through confusion and misunderstanding; and the overall alienation one can feel in high school as you’re attempting to understand who you are and where you fit. Similar to Dunkirk (2017) in Epic World War II films, I think Lady Bird could hold up with the best coming of age stories, and maybe its celebration is in some ways a correction to that problem, as so many other great female driven coming of age stories have been abandoned. I just hope that this doesn’t become the norm, where similar to how many Best Actor Oscars Awards (both male and female) are now awarded for an overall career rather than based upon an individual performance, voters will now overcompensate by looking to what’s easy and digestible rather than what’s challenging and progressing the medium forward - which many female filmmakers accomplished this year, though were often castigated for attempting. That’s the larger tragedy. BELOW: A great scene and my very first introduction to Timothee Chalamet Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Vegas, baby Director: Denis Villeneuve Writer: Hampton Fancher and Michael Green; story byHampton Fancher; based on characters from Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick Cinematographer: Roger A. Deakins Producer: Andrew A. Kosove, Broderick Johnson, Bud Yorkin, and Cynthia Sikes Yorkin by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... K lives in Los Angeles, in a vision that’s becoming increasingly more realistic given the rapid population growth and should the city ever do anything about the housing crisis and basically reject all NIMBY suits and actually accommodate the needs of the people. K's apartment is small and while not necessarily showing us all of the tiny details and technologies, it’s primarily run by what we might call a augmented individual named Joi (Ana de Armas) who’s a beautiful woman that exists as a hologram - capable of everything from preparing dinner (or at least scheduling the kitchenware to create dinner) to putting on music and sexy outfits; everything but the ability to touch and kiss. The entire city operates as kind of throwback to Taxi Driver’s version of Times Square, where in addition to prostitutes, is the endless marketing of sexy assistants just like Joi who could provide the contentment men desire. While it’s never shown, I got the impression there was another tool that men could hook up to as they experience these virtual women. While the rest of the story is pretty good, I thought this subplot was the best part of the film, leaving me to consider the idea for weeks after. If Robots could experience consciousness, then why couldn’t a simple machine represented through an image? Does consciousness need to take the shape of a human to require our empathy? What if there was a machine that was able to generate ideas and art that could progress humanity - even if we never saw their face? Joi and K have affection for each other, and it was either’s ability to never fully come across as human and yet demand my care and worry which made the question all the more engaging. While the film’s weakest point is the overall story - in which it seemed too focused on continuing on from the last film, in which we get yet another Grand Cameo from Harrison Ford, feeling the same as seeing him in The Force Awakens, in that, he is not just a megastar, but an historic figure in the history of Hollywood. When he appears in a film that’s trying to be contemporary I always feel pulled out, as though the story freezes for a moment and the lights come on with the MC declaring a special appearance. This isn’t against Harrison Ford, as I believe he’s one of the greatest actors in Hollywood history, so much as him being in these films pulls your attention away, making you aware that you’re watching something that is trying to be as great as its predecessor. The plot feels so committed to incorporating Rick Deckard that the fascinating plot of a rogue getting pregnant gets muddy. There are some great set pieces - such as the musical holograms - but I found myself wishing it had taken a different direction. What if it didn’t lead to Deckard, but to a whole new individual and storyline? Even the title, having to honor Philip K. Dick’s timeline (the original film took place in 2019 and I don’t think we’re quite there), sacrifices reason in order to accommodate Deckard’s inclusion. I don’t think this will be Los Angeles in 32 years. Maybe in a 132 years, or at least far enough where I’ll be long past dead and unable to ever know if could have happened. The plot becomes so intricate at this point that even reading it on Wikipedia leaves me confused with all of the names, revelations, and reversal, all seeming needlessly complicated. There’s a giant corporation that makes replicants called the Wallace Corporation that left me considering a figure in which the global oligopoly starts to have significant control over world governments, establishing massive headquarters around the globe that are exempt from national law, but the film doesn’t at all get into this, instead having Jared Leto play CEO Niander Wallace who’s had his eyes replaced with AR machines or something, who's committed to finding ways to impregnate replicants in order to expand global colonization. This is such an awesome idea that it could have offered a fascinating journey and yet I was constantly pulled out of it by having to remember references to the original and a plot that’s not all that interesting when it wraps. Nonetheless, I think this is the most beautiful sci-fi film I’ve ever looked at, where I could easily watch the whole with solely Hans Zimmer’ score, Deakin’s photography, Dennis Gassner’s production design, or Denis Villeneuve’s direction without hearing a single word. I'll have to revisit it again, but seems like the reluctance to let it be it’s own thing held back its potential. BELOW: A beautiful scene that captures the essence of the original; no big SFX, just simple and perfect set design Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Gosling makes for a solid robot Director: Denis Villeneuve Writer: Hampton Fancher and Michael Green; story byHampton Fancher; based on characters from Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick Cinematographer: Roger A. Deakins Producer: Andrew A. Kosove, Broderick Johnson, Bud Yorkin, and Cynthia Sikes Yorkin by Jon Cvack I haven’t seen the original Blade Runner (1982) since college, and while it was a pretty good film, I remember wondering what the big deal was. The world was vivid, the characters were interesting, yet for a film that has been revered as one of the finest sci-fi films ever created, I was left disappointed. Of course the first thing people tell me when I this is to watch the Director’s Cut, which I was about to do until I couldn’t find the disc, with even Amazon having a six week delay and charging $30.00 for the Blu Ray. However, with Denis Villeneuve behind the director’s chair I was thrilled to see this movie, confident that if anyone could continue, or in my case improve the world, it would be this guy. He has continually pushed his abilities with each film he does, and while I also didn’t really like Arrival it was clear that Villeneuve was on track for great things and Blade Runner 2049 came pretty close to maximizing that potential. A book that most aspiring filmmakers read is "Shot by Shot" by Steven D. Kartz which includes a storyboarded scene from the original script that was cut from the film - which Villeneuve recreates shot for shot (or so I’ve read and would have to confirm, though is strikingly similar to what I remember). Replicant “K” (Ryan Gosling) lands his police cruiser in the foggy farm fields in order to hunt down another rogue replicants. For those who don’t know (cause I couldn’t remember), in the future enslaved robots were bioengineered to have as many of the same features as humans, varying from an ability to blink to an ability to bleed, with some becoming self-aware, going rogue, and leaving other replicants to hunt them down. These hunters were called Blade Runners. The first thing you notice is the meticulous production design, with the wardrobe and props having an unbelievable amount of detail. I had read Shot by Shot many times while growing up, and though I hadn’t picked up the book in years, everything I watched seemed strangely familiar - the bizarre farm equipment, the dark and lonely house, and especially the tea kettle. I didn’t know the reference going into the film and was surprised to see it, with that strange familiarity suddenly making sense. While the scene itself was far from the most inspired idea (a fight breaks out between the detective as he tries to detain the rogue), and yet it was how it was done, with each shot looking flawlessly designed, providing an endearing throwback to Ridley Scott, which opens all kinds of questions and fun thoughts as to how filmmakers could take an older generation’s work and honor by incorporating it with all of their own skill and craft. After the fight, K discovers a coffin buried beneath an old, dead tree, containing a rogue with a foetus inside. He reports the information back to his superior Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright) who orders him to destroy the evidence, professing how disastrous it’d be for the world. There was a recent article in The Atlantic that mentioned how few sci-fi films are continuing its foundational mission to imagine a world far into the future. The many comic book and Star Wars franchises, being dependent on older properties and universes, are inherently limited in scope, as veering too far from the base material risks what has made them successful. The only element that ultimately changes and improves in the films is the technology used to make them. When I look up the best sci-fi movies of the 2010s what I get is Looper (2012), Interstellar (2014), Edge of Tomorrow (2014), and Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014), etc. and while all of these films are great, few of them have portrayed anything particularly new or insightful about the future they inhabit. The movie that’s best advanced this conversation was Spike Jonze’s Her (2013) and possibly The Martian (2015: though The Martian is more of a modern day film, taking place just a few years into the future). Everything else I look up fails to really examine where the world would be and what that would mean for humanity. Think of what The Matrix (1999) did - and still does - for the genre and the general conversation about man and machine’s relationship. The thing I think I might have missed when I first watched Blade Runner is the comparison between any marginalized group versus those in power. I can imagine a world where one day people from all types of backgrounds could live in relative peace, and while I think it’ll take far longer than thirty years, it does open the question: if we ever achieve a tolerant world, should we extend that same tolerance to machines who develop consciousness? It’s such a generic idea and yet it as a robot in China gains citizenship, Boston Dynamics invents robots that scale obstacles, run, and can work in warehouses, AI is increasingly developing and replacing low skills jobs, and soon it seems such machines - whether drones or robots - could be ubiquitous. In which case - should they achieve self-awareness, what rights should they ultimately have, especially if they’re far more intelligent and powerful than any human being? Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Pretty close to what was storyboarded by Ridley over two decades prior Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Could definitely use another buddy movie from these two Director: Steven Soderbergh Writer: Rebecca Blunt Cinematographer: Peter Andrews Producer: Gregory Jacobs, Mark Johnson, Channing Tatum, and Reid Carolin by Jon Cvack I’ve long admired Stephen Soderbergs renegade approach to filmmaking, varying between A-level star-studded studio films like Ocean’s 11 ('01), Traffic ('00), and Erin Brockovich ('00) to the extreme and low budget indie works such as Gray's Anatomy ('96), Kafka ('91), and Bubble ('05), the latter of which he released simultaneously in a few theaters and Video on Demand, hoping that he could create profitable model that would assist up and coming filmmakers, though only recovering about 15% (largely due to the no name figures). Most recently, Soderberg gave a disparaging State of Cinema speech at the San Francisco International Film Festival, in which he explained his retirement from filmmaking, explaining that the studios were now run by business people who have little interest in films and even less experience in production, who were telling filmmakers like himself and others that their projects were no good, comparing the paradoxical model to himself visiting Mercedes and attempting to tell the engineers how to design a car. I never bought into the fact that he would fully abandon filmmaking, especially after his Cinemax series The Knick was canceled (which is arguably the greatest looking show ever made, and one of peak TV's best). Lucky Logan was his return to filmmaking after only a brief hiatus, attempting to combine his indie roots with a star studded film, building excitement for a new marketing model that he was going to test. The plan was to raise the money and release the movie independently, and manage the marketing with additional funds (I initially heard $1 million, though now I’m seeing $20 million), allowing Soderberg to spend relatively less on marketing and have more direct involvement in the accounting. Unfortunately, the film has underperformed, and like Bubble, might cause some companies to hesitate before taking on the distribution of a $29 million film without studio assistance. This isn’t to say that the film will have been a complete bomb. As of this writing it has pulled in $36 million, which is to say nothing of the international sales. I was even surprised I was able to catch it in time as in an age where poor performers are pulled from theaters with lightning speed, it was still playing at a few theaters around me a month later. Being the first movie I’ve seen with my Movie Pass, I can’t say I was completely bummed out (one of the positive attributes of the service in that money spent is no longer a factor). While the films feels as though it was made by a Soderberg megafan who wanted to make Ocean’s 11 in the rural South, it contained a few good moments, and yet it in lieu of its author, the bar was a set a bit higher and the mountain of holes and inconsistencies couldn’t rescue the film from being yet another poorly designed caper film - and coming off Baby Driver’s (2017) heels, which while containing problems of its own, also pushed the genre in a refreshing direction, making the problems in Lucky Logan all the more glaring. It follows blue collar construction worker Jimmy Logan (Channing Tatum), who on account of lying on his application about an existing knee injury, is terminated from his job. He’s close to his young and aspiring pop singing daughter Sadie Logan (Farrah Mackenzie who was one of the best parts of the film), who lives with her mom Bobbi Jo Chapman (Katie Holmes ) now divorced Jimmy years back, now living with a successful Ford car salesman, in part of some obvious and awkward brand deal with moments where the husband Moody Chapman (David Denman) starts breaking down details of the newest Ford Mustang and its varying types of transmissions and why it’s better than old muscle cars, which we then see is true. After Jimmy is laid off, he visits Bobbi Jo who comes yelling at Jimmy for being a deadbeat who can’t keep a job and keeps missing important dates for his daughter Sadie and her performances. While Jimmy was building some methane tunnels at Charlotte Motor Speedway (an actual place, though a very cool brand deal, if it was one), he discovers that they use a complex set of pneumatic vacuums to suck down the cash from the registers and provide better transport security. The plan is to recruit his veteran brother with one arm, Clyde Logan (Adam Driver), to rob the place, except before any of that happens there’s an incredibly ill-fitting scene and character from Seth MacFarlane playing Max Chilblain - one of the leading NASCAR driver’s main sponsors who makes his money selling energy drinks. He walks into the bar where Clyde tends, with McFarlane wearing what looks like a cheap wig and mustache, which maybe was intentional, and yet creates an absolutely unbelievable character. He harasses Clyde and a fight breaks out, and Clyde soon throws a Molotov cocktail into Max's truck. Clyde and Jimmy hang out and Jimmy uses the word “cauliflower” which triggers something in Jimmy who recalls it as a codeword they used when committing crimes years ago, somehow solidifying his involvement. They recruit safecracker Joe Bang, and in the film’s best performance, Daniel Craig completely abandons James Bond, offering an exciting character who eats vending machine eggs and uses fake salt that is one of the few effective coincidences from the film. His one demand is recruiting his brothers Sam and Fish (Brian Gleeson; Jack Quaid) who really just function as offensive “redneck” stereotypes, and while I’m sure people like this exist, it felt like there could have been a bit more than two rambling idiots who drink beer and play horseshoes with toilet seats. Aside from the fact that Joe Bang’s demand didn’t make sense (he has a profound understanding of chemistry and the ways in which fake salt can created a bomb with gummy worms and bleach in a plastic bag, but fails to see that his brothers Sam and Fish stood to jeopardize the mission), is the fact that most of the characters in the film play as superficial archetypes of Southern rednecks, even to the film’s single sex symbol Mellie Logan (Riley Keough) who dresses in hideous outfits that reminded me more of Joe Dirt’s Brandi than anything else, which might have actually been the intention when I think about it - though to Soderberg’s credit, she’s a pretty badass character. Nevertheless, while Ocean’s 11 made me feel as though I was watching realistic characters in the fascinating world of high stakes Las Vegas, Logan Lucky felt more like a cartoon, poking fun at these people and in a way I was surprised to see from someone who’s offered such incredible depth to his characters. With the exception of Jimmy, Clyde, and Sadie, hardly anyone felt real or new; serving more as imitations of what’s been done countless times before. Adam Driver shines in his stoic role as a one armed man, who seems cursed in making illogical decisions. While I have no idea why he got himself arrested (even Wikipedia glances over the action), other than to play buddy to Joe Bang and providing fairly plot serving device, accepting the situation led to an awesome performance from Driver that makes me hope he gets even stranger roles (I wrote this a year or so before seeing BlacKKKlansman ('18)). It all leads to the payoff which is where the film directly ripped off Ocean’s 11 ending (if a director can rip off another one of their films; at the very least it was relatively uninspired). After the heist concludes and looks to be a success and I honestly thought it was wrapping up, Hilary Swank is introduced as an FBI agent and so goes another fifteen minutes where I’m not exactly sure why it was included, as other than setting it up for a sequel, if you were to remove her character, the film could have ended in nearly the same exact way. Through flashbacks we see how some of the more confusing details worked out, which left me thinking back to when I first saw Ocean’s 11 while on vacation with my parents, with my friend telling me to give it a few minutes when were getting ready to leave our hotel room, and I proceeded to sit on the edge of my bed for the remaining hour, having missed the entire beginning, riveted with was going on and blown away by the explanation. Logan Lucky’s pay off doesn’t even come close to the same (even compared to Ocean's 12 ('04) or Ocean's 13 ('07)). It’s not a bad movie, but definitely exists in the fly over middle of Soderberg’s incredible filmography. BELOW: A powerful speech Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A superhero western Director: James Mangold Writer: Scott Frank, James Mangold, and Michael Green; story by James Mangold Cinematographer: John Mathieson Producer: Hutch Parker, Simon Kinberg, and Lauren Shuler Donner by Jon Cvack With the exception of The Dark Knight trilogy and perhaps a handful of films such as the first Spider Man ('02) and Watchmen ('09) I do not enjoy comic book movies (though I also learned Road to Perdition ('02) and A History of Violence ('05) were based on comics, serving as further exceptions to this rule while being one of the most fascinating pieces of film trivia I’ve learned in a very long time). Most epitomize all that’s wrong with cinema, offering no voice and instead bombard the viewer with over the top VFX that are so disconnected from reality that instead of imagining a crew and some actors in exotic locations, I see a green screen and thousands of artists in dark computer labs. The absence of voice is the primary problem, in which for the handful I've seen, there’s little beyond a homogenous tone that makes all of the films play with the exact structure - an existential threat to humanity must be fought by a group of superpower heroes. As we continue to learn that these films are increasingly more profitable in foreign markets than the states, it’s clear as to why the films are so bland - in order to appease the most viewers possible the films demand an acultural and apolitical stance that won’t offend the broad range of governments and audiences. The Avengers: Age of Ultron ('15) was my last attempt at the genre and in what is an accomplishment reserved for few movies, I couldn’t even finish the thing, getting absolutely nothing out of it, only left wishing that the creative teams would take lesson from Christopher Nolan and allow filmmakers with a voice to make these stories their own. By the time Logan arrived in theaters, regardless of the critical praise it was receiving, I didn't trust it. Although I resent the aggregate review style, it applies well to popcorn movies and Rotten Tomatoes had Certified Fresh for countless numbers of the Marvel and DC series that were frequently disappointments. It was as though James Mangold studied everything that these films did wrong and all that the good ones did right and combined them into what should be the precedent for at least most mainstream comic book movies. As Christopher Nolan offered a highly realistic portrayal in The Dark Knight Trilogy, Mangold explored equally realistic territory within an R-rated, brutally violent and action packed narrative. The film opens up twenty five years into the future in El Paso, Texas, with Wolverine, aka James Logan Hewitt (Hugh Jackman), who’s now a limo driver and drinking heavily. I should pause and disclaim that I’ve never seen any of the films from the X-Men series and have not seen The Wolverine, though while I’m sure I’m missing some details, is a testament to Mangold’s power in that I slowly pieced it all together. Logan has lost his self-healing ability and his strength and agility is starting to decline. We meet him on the side of the road where he’s accosted by some gangsters, things escalate, Logan loses his temper, out come the claws, and we then watch as he stabs and slices the men to death in such a way that you immediately realize this is a different type of movie. Still, for the next ten or so minutes, I remained suspicious, as even the opening fight sequence felt a little too superhero-like (the hero outnumbered by inferior enemies). We learn that him and albino mutant Caliban (Stephen Merchant) are taking care of Professor Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart) who’s also starting to lose his mutant abilities, unable to control his powerful telekinetic abilities, having to take pills that cloud his brilliant mind. Although the superpowers are initially distracting, it’s their position in reality, as though they could actually have happened (much like The Dark Knight trilogy), that the story becomes easier to consume. Like any great film it grounds the unbelievable into plausibility, allowing the well matched story to shine. Logan is approached by a former nurse Gabriel Lopez (Elizabeth Rodriguez) who’s also taking care of a mutant, in this case an 11 year old child Laura Kinney (Dafne Keen), who possesses the same superhuman strength, claws, and self-healing ability as Logan, demanding he take her to a refuge in North Dakota called Eden where she should be safe. The bitter Logan refuses, later finding Gabriela dead, taking Laura back to his hideout where they’re approached by Donald Pierce (allegedly a cyborg; played by Boyd Holbrook who I bet becomes cinema's next Great Bad Guy). Pierce wants the girl, eventually returning with his team of mercenaries (called The Reavers; again I didn’t know any of this prior but I will say, without having dug too deep, these seem like pretty cool characters who were well adapted compared to their extravagant roots). Thus begins the scene where I understood the praise, as we’re provided with an incredible and at least very real looking car chase/shoot out/escape sequence as Logan loads Professor Xavier and Laura into his limousine while the Reivers chase him down on motorcycles. I’ve discussed my problem with the over reliance on VFX to create moments that are so clearly unreal and created on a computer that it removes the ability to believe, or even better, to appreciate the fact that a bunch of actors and crew had to physically execute the scene. I’m not sure how much CGI Mangold used (he digitally aged Logan which is actually very cool), but for the most part I believed everything I was watching could actually happen. It offered a refreshingly modest approach - it didn’t have cameras flying through the air, following robots shooting lasers that can destroy mountains, but rather enhanced the footage. The story continues and so begins an extraordinary exploration of character. Hugh Jackman puts on an Award-winning performance, pulling us from the large and egotistical personalities of superheroes and toward an aging man with deep personal struggles, both internally and where he fits in the world as an ailing mutant with a terrible job. Then there’s Professor Xavier and his performance as the father figure, attempting to guide Logan and protect the child at any cost, who’s ailing body is decades worse than Logan. While I’m sure I would appreciate learning more of their history by watching the other films, I still got the sense of profound bond and love between the two, who have only each other in a world that’s rejected mutants. Then there’s Laura, evidently Logan’s daughter (again I’m clearly missing some history), who isn’t just a product of a past affair, but of a sophisticated laboratory called Alkali-Transigen which was determined to harness infant mutants into becoming sophisticated killing machines before learning alternative methods and attempting to destroy the children, with only Laura and a few others escaping, seeking refuge in a place called Eden. The dynamic is classic and yet it’s between Dafne Keen and Jackman’s performance placed within a more extraordinary setting that made it feel fresh. We get the impression that Jackman truly wants no part of the child, with his vulnerability slowly corroding his guard. The trio eventually ends up in Casino-Hotel in Oklahoma City where Donald Pierce and the Reivers eventually track them down. With Logan out, he returns and immediately experiences the wrath of Xavier’s power. It was this sequence specifically, which while dominated by super powers and special effects, was done so within a responsible and contained manner, in which the images on screen were distorted and shaking, with everyone frozen in their place, only able to move their eyes (experienced earlier when first meeting Xavier in his silo hideout) that made us wonder whether the event was an accident or deliberate, soon discovering that the Reivers had made it to Logan’s room, hoping to kill Xavier and Laura, freezing the mercenaries and allowing Logan to use every ounce of his strength to slaughter them one by one and in absolutely brutal fashion, such as stabbing them through the back of the head, with his claws coming out the front before going on to inject Xavier’s medicine and saving them. They continue on, nearly getting into a traffic accident, dodging a bunch of self-driving semis that take you a few seconds to grasp their structure and why they’re missing a cab. With a fellow family - The Musons, including a couple and their child - nearly driven off the road, Logan, Xavier, and Laura help them, then invited back to have a home cooked meal and a long overdue night of rest and relaxation that Xavier declares has been his best night in a long time. Mangold’s skills shine as he’s able to swing to the other side of the spectrum, offering an intimate and humorous conversation between the characters until the water goes out and the man takes Logan back onto the farm to turn it on, running into the local muscle man who controls the flow. While we admire Logan’s commitment to using his power to help the downtrodden, we also know that the victory is ephemeral, setting up yet another brilliant action sequence when the muscle man and his cronies return looking for the husband while Pierce arrives with his minions, slaughtering the family, even the child, along with Xavier, and unleashing a rage in Logan that’s best matched for a superior Logan clone, X-24, who’s younger, and far more powerful and agile, and while I often resent the Final Gatekeeper character, his match to Logan was exciting to watch and threatening enough for me to wonder how he’ll be defeated, which is so often missing from the other encounters. Eventually Logan makes it to Eden with Laura, greeting the dozen or so kids who have been hiding out in their homemade fortress, waiting for Laura. Of course Pierce and the Reivers along with X-24 and so begins the one of the greatest climatic scenes I’ve seen in recent action films, involving the children and their powers, and Logan’s acceptance of his love for Laura and determination to save her. Once again, it’s logical, engaging, and thrilling, culminating in a conclusion that, for all I’ve seen from the genre, left me surprised. It’s a beautiful film, where throughout I was expecting it to veer in the direction of its peers, and yet always managed to put plausibility and character before set piece. In an age where most action sequences seem to function as teasers for the video games, it was relieving to watch a film that took something that could have so easily fallen into the same tropes. Perhaps best is the inclusion of the X-Men comic books which exist within the universe, functioning as superficial cartoons that hoped to exploit the mutant struggles, if not serving as a criticism for what the films have all become. It’s one of the best films of 2017 and I’ll forever be disappointed that I missed it in theaters. BELOW: VFX done right Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Gotta give kudos to how they cut in JFK without showing his face Director: Pablo Larraín Writer: Noah Oppenheim Cinematographer: Stéphane Fontaine Producer: Juan de Dios Larraín, Darren Aronofsky, Mickey Liddell, Scott Franklin, and Ari Handel by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... One of the earliest moments from Jackie involves her giving a Emmy-award winning documentary tour of the White House, in which she’s forced to wear her iconic red dress and maintain a perpetual smile while answering questions about the White House decor and furnishings (with a couple questions about their commitment to art). Similar to No, Larraín shot this is with what looks to be the same exact black and white film that the actual documentary utilized, allowing us to fully grasp how well Portman sunk into the character and how out of the spotlight, we see that Jackie enjoyed smoking, drinking, and other more masculine activities, knowing she could never reveal them to the public, at times demanding the journalist leave out such details. The movie accomplishes what all great biopics do in showing an imperfect woman. Jackie had coveted the position as much as anyone else; and while her role was relegated to more superficial aspects, she was forever aware of their place in history. As she declares in an interview with the journalist, her voracious appetite for reading history forced her to muse on what place they would have. In a great moment while riding in the ambulance with Bob Kennedy, she asks the driver if he’s ever heard of James Garfield or William McKinley, to which the driver says no, the way most people would say no. While known in their era, they have now joined the majority of presidents who fail to stand out. With JFK having been in office for just shy of three years, his only major achievement was the Bay of Pigs, along with getting us involved with Vietnam. He had plans to run on big ticket items such as Civil Rights, though I also recommend you look up the hypothesis as to whether or not JFK would have gotten the bill through, given LBJ’s more formidable politicking and experience. Jackie fears that, in the annals of history, the Kennedy name won’t matter, and when you consider how little he accomplished, it does make you stand in awe that he’s achieved such a notorious position in modern history; and yet I can’t help wondering if that’s because of their age, looks, and young children who appeared as the perfect family (JFK’s philandering aside; though the point is mentioned by Jackie). The film’s critics are those seem equally turned by Malick’s earlier work, seemingly unable to accept a more poetic film than conventional narrative. I don’t know much about Jackie’s life, but the film’s not about that. While it could have easily been adapted as a traditional three-act narrative, with punched up conflicts between the Kennedys and LBJ and extravagant funeral set pieces, instead Larraín directs our intention to grief and the way it affects an individual. To examine the universal idea within such an esteemed person is to provide a link between us and the position. As mentioned at one point, what we learn is that all of these iconic figures of modern history are still humans; feeling similar conflicts of melancholy, confusion, selfishness, and rage. One of my favorite scenes involved Jackie alone in the private residence, getting drunk, smoking, and taking pills, while playing records, dressing up in various outfits, and having one last night in the White House. At less than three years, she’s forced to abandon all her hopes and ideas, whether for what the White House could be (as a mecca of art and culture) or for the policies that would progress the country forward. Rarely have I felt such empathy for a character, imagining myself as equally irresolute and confused, devastated by having to accept that the dream that was real and coveted had been suddenly stripped away. As her discussion with a Priest progresses (John Hurt; in the film’s second best performance), I was in awe of thinking what difficulty a man of God would have in consoling the situation; only able to provide the same advice that he would likely offer any person of any class; to accept that a piece of you will be forever broken and what’s most important is to try and fill your life with appreciating the remaining moments of happiness you’ll one day grasp. The movie is heartbreaking and yet beautiful to watch, with images that have continued to haunt me for days. BELOW: Such a simple and beautiful scene Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The wardrobe in this movie alone makes it worth the watch Director: Pablo Larraín Writer: Noah Oppenheim Cinematographer: Stéphane Fontaine Producer: Juan de Dios Larraín, Darren Aronofsky, Mickey Liddell, Scott Franklin, and Ari Handel by Jon Cvack I’ve been anxious to check out Jackie since discovering it was directed by Pablo Larraín, who made No (2012) four years earlier; another historical drama in which an ad man gets involved on the 1988 Chilean plebiscite, deciding whether or not dictator Augusto Pinochet should stay in power for another eight years. While the story itself was engaging enough, it was the photography that etched the film into memory, shot entirely on old video news cameras that made it look as though I was watching a film that was shot during the period. Jackie is shot with comparable complement, utilizing Super 16mm film to match the actual footage from the period, along with breathtaking set design from Jean Rabasse that looked like they somehow gained access to the actual White House and all its amenities. The film takes place from the moment JFK was shot, all the way up through one of the first interviews Jacqueline Kennedy (Natalie Portman) gave about the horrific event, including the physical transition from Kennedy’s administration and into LBJ’s; providing an intimate look into Jacqueline’s determination to handle the situation as best she could. From the interview, the story begins with Jacqueline on the plane, covered in blood, as LBJ (John Carroll Lynch) is being sworn in. John Carroll has large boots to fill after both Bryan Cranston in HBO's All the Way and particularly Michael Gambon’s brilliant performance in HBO's other LBJ bio-pic Path to War (from my count, LBJ has been portrayed in five films, as of 2019). However, counter to those films, we receive a more superficial look at the man who unfortunately is portrayed as at least mildly excited for the position, offering little in the way of empathy for the Kennedy’s grief. The film moves on to follow Jacqueline as she works with Bob Kennedy (Peter Sarsgaard) to make the funeral arrangements, with Jacqueline determined to provide her husband the grandest procession the country has ever seen, going so far as to have an assistant research Lincoln’s funeral, which included Heads of State from the world over, all led by horse drawn hearse down the eight blocks to Arlington Cemetery. Though when Lee Harvey Oswald is suddenly assassinated, the LBJ administration cautions her about security, advising against the Kennedy’s walking such a relatively long distance. We watch as Jackie drifts between melancholy and madness, seemingly incapable of making a decision without second guessing herself and forcing everyone to change the plans. What the film does so well is take an objective look at the woman and what it means to be a Kennedy. As I’ve mentioned before - most recently in Street Fight (2005) - what I find most interesting about politicians, and especially the presidency, is the expansive ego it demands; in which the candidate has to believe that they are the one who can lead an entire nation against the vast challenges it faces. In the modern era, and matters of seniority aside, a person is not often chosen to be president so much as possesses the faith they could be. Working in entertainment where egos run sky high - and for things which do not matter in any comparable way - I have trouble grasping the idea of someone thinking they can guide the country in the correct direction; that their ideas are the ones the people should vote for. Given the increasingly expensive cost to run, it often demands that the individual comes from wealth; with only a fraction having come from more modest means (I highly recommend reading McCullough’s "Truman" to gain insight into a modern example of how things use to be). The Kennedy wealth, stemming from Joseph P. Kenny, Sr., came from banking and investments, some originating in bootlegging and others arguing insider trading (back when the SEC, in its lenient stage, was far more lenient). Currently, there’s yet another Kennedy serving in congress - 36 year old Joe Kennedy III, who’s allegedly inherited between $15-55 million. While I agree with much of the man’s politics, there’s something I find gross about the Kennedy dynasty; the way I find both the Bush and burgeoning Clinton dynasties gross. In a country that was founded on the principle of all people being created equal, families of this sort, with their vast wealth and name recognition, make it increasingly difficult for the average person to reach higher office. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Probably one of the top ten accents ever designed Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The snow ain't the only thing that's white about this film Director: Taylor Sheridan Writer: Taylor Sheridan Cinematographer: Ben Richardson Producer: Matthew George, Basil Iwanyk, Peter Berg, Wayne L. Rogers, Elizabeth A. Bell by Jon Cvack Taylor Sheridan’s directorial debut took Best Director at Cannes, offering one of the earliest Oscar buzzed films of the year. Impressed with Hell and Higher Water (2016) and blown away by Sicario (2015), I was excited to check out the latest of Sheridan’s looK at the flyover states, which capped off his unofficial American trilogy. Unfortunately, the forfeiture of two great and veteran directors fell victim to the same results that ambitious actor/writers often experience. The film opens in the Wind River Indian Reservation with a US Fish and Wildlife Service hunter Cory Lambert (Jeremy Renner) who’s investigating a calf that’s allegedly been mauled by a mountain lion. Lambert tracks down the animal on a snowmobile, wearing white fatigues and having a lot of cool guns. Miles into the middle of nowhere he comes across the body of a dead eighteen year old girl, Natalie Hanson (Kelsey Chow), who has asphyxiated on her own blood as her lungs froze while running for miles in -20 degree weather. Lambert heads back to tell the local Native American chief Ben (Graham Greene; no last name for some reason; important to note for later), who then wait for the FBI, where sure enough, a young white and attractive woman, James Banner (Elizabeth Olsen) shows up, flying in from Vegas and completely ill-prepared for Wyoming - somehow smart enough to become an FBI agent but not smart enough to check the weather in a place that seems fairly obvious to check the weather for. She also fails to comprehend or agree with Cory's theory; again making me question her FBI credentials. At the autopsy, we get our first taste of the poor direction, as although Natalie has clearly been raped, there is no definitive sign of a murder. This enrages Banner who can’t more field officers unless it’s a murder (which left me wondering how strict the FBI actually would be in this situation; if she called a colleague and explained the legality versus the reality of the situation it seems somebody, at least one person, would probably show up, or at the very least, keep tabs on the potential of a sexual assault; especially after the subsequent attempted murders). After the news, Banner storms out of the autopsy, and in a long wide shot we watch as she looks so heavily like she's acting pissed rather than seeming actually pissed; mostly because she moves in the way someone pretending to be upset would move (head down, hand on chin, staring down, etc.). I don’t blame Olsen who has done some incredible work, so much as Sheridan for refusing to see that it was more important to contain Banner’s rage; namely that maybe a lack of physical reaction would be the more powerful choice, especially given Olsen's powerful eyes. At this point, with her lack of foresight, insight, or self-control, she seems like a needlessly weak woman. This doesn’t mean I needed some badass Fed woman so much as a person that’s not entirely worthless to the investigation. Immediately I was thinking about Clarice Starling and Foster/Demme’s ability to create a character that had complex deficiencies and yet who was determined to do good, both for the sake of the families and to prove her own worth. Banner evolves to greater strength, yet in the end, she’ll rely on Lambert to save her life and kill the bad guy. Which brings me to Lambert, who’s divorced, has to take his kid for a few days amidst all the chaos; all while trying not to argue with his Native American ex-wife Wilma (Julia Jones) who we don’t really get to know anything about (which will also be important later). Lambert and Banner go off to solve the case, uncovering a complex rape-murder web that took place in an oil company’s onsite trailer housing site, all operating on the reservation. On the way, they meet some drug addict Native American kids, one being Natalie's brother, who’s living in a crumbling trailer and learns the news of his sister’s passing by piecing together a grammatical error on Lambert’s part, providing an exchange of what I’ve had to have heard a hundred times in Walker Texas Ranger. After Lambert uses the word "was" in describing Natalie, the brother cries out - “Was?...Was?!...What do you mean ‘was’?! [crying]...What do you mean ‘was’?!” and so he cries. These might seem like minor details, but in a film that should be exploring a significant issue; that is the plight of modern Native American communities, it instead falls into trope and melodrama, pulling you straight out of the movie. In the end we learn that Natalie had a boyfriend Ben (Jon Bernthal) who really loved and cared for her, though when post-coital in bed one night, his oil buddy friends came back from the fields, with one completely fucked up and crossing the bro line, trying to peek at a naked Natalie, causing a fight to break out where him and his buddies then take turns raping Natalie, in one of the most brutal rape scenes I’ve seen in a long time. There was a recent open letter about ending rape scenes in film and television, and counter to giving movies with characters who smoke an R rating, I completely support a mission to try and phase these moments out in favor of newer ideas. When I really think about it, with the exception of historical/biopic pieces, I can’t really see why we’d ever need to show a rape in a film ever again. It’s not that rape shouldn’t be included in the story, so much as I don’t think it ever needs to be explicitly shows. It’s a bold statement, and sure I can think of highbrow films that have done it appropriately, but all too often it’s done for shock effect, providing a plot device that has been explored all too often. Filmmakers need to return to the ways of implying rather than showing these horrific scenes, as after decades of watching them, I just don’t think there’s much more progress to be made in the ways of portraying sexual assault. After being raped, Natalie Hansen then escapes, running as far as she could in the freezing cold until she collapsed and died. This is all told in flashback, and even now I’m not sure if the characters knew this information, or just we, the audience, understood it. After the brutal scene, a fairly cool and completely implausible shootout takes place between the oil men and the State Police, local Officers, Ben and Banner. I could not buy that anyone would think that shooting a bunch of Federal and State police would possibly lead to anything more than a few weeks freedom, and again it seemed like there could have been more motivation than simply that the oil men didn’t want to get caught; something should have motivated such a tremendous risk. Why wouldn’t they just play it cool, wait for them to leave, and as their walking away, they mow them down? It was a classic case of plot serving. And yet ultimately, what’s most enraging about the film is the end title card, mentioning how Native American communities don’t keep track of missing person statistics and so no one knows how many Native American women are missing. It’s such an ambiguous fact that means nothing; a shallow gesture to the struggles of the Native American culture; especially because in the end, the only two Native American portrayed in the film was Lambert’s ex-wife Wilma and Ben (with no last name), who we learn close to nothing about, and Natalie, who we saw dead, then dressed in her underwear and then brutally raped. Why couldn’t Banner have been a Native American FBI officer, or any person of color; someone that would’ve been more intimately connected to the victim? The same applies to Lambert - given his job as protecting the Native land from lions, why couldn’t he have been a Native American? It played so heavily like the 90s Southern race-procedurals, Ghosts in the Mississippi (1996) or Mississippi Burning (1988), in which the white people come to town to save the black community. For a film that concludes by raising awareness about a highly underrepresented section of America, I'm not sure how much whiteness could be pressed into the story. BELOW: Here's the thing - this is a great scene; it just doesn't make any sense at all Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
Categories
All
© Jonathan Cvack and Yellow Barrel, 2015 - 2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jon Cvack and Yellow Barrel with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
|
RSS Feed
#/media/File:Logan_makeup_and_CGI.jpg){kind=link}