 It could be fixed Director: Christopher Nolan Writer: Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan; story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer Cinematographer: Wally Pfister Producer: Emma Thomas, Christopher Nolan, and Charles Roven by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... We’re led back to the city where we learn that Gordon is floating the idea of revealing the truth about Harvey Dent. With crime at a record low and Batman now Gotham’s most wanted, he hesitates to reveal the truth, knowing it might cause the people to turn back toward criminality. We go on to Wayne Manor, where yet another party is thrown, in which Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) remains hidden upstairs, unshaven, slow moving, and now using a cane. One of the servers Selina Kyle (aka Catwoman; Anne Hathaway) works her way up to his room where she steals Marth Wayne’s pearls before Bruce reveals himself. The two are immediately attracted to each other, and even after Bruce requests she leave the pearls, she heads off and we later learn that it wasn’t about the necklace so much as retrieving Bruce’s fingerprint for a corrupt member of the Wayne Enterprise board, John Daggett, who hopes to seize power. He’s played by Ben Mendelsohn who has gotten even better with age, as while he was relatively unknown at the time, he’s gone on to play everything from the King of England in Darkest Hour (2017) to a backwoods redneck in The Place Beyond the Pines (2012). Meanwhile, Bane is building a massive underground army that exists in the Gotham sewers, which have been attracting many local foster home kids; particularly of interest to former foster child and now police officer John Blake (aka Robin; Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who takes it upon himself to investigate the disappearances even against the direct orders of Gordon’s second in command Peter Foley (Matthew Modine) who believes it’s a waste of time. What we soon learn is that Daggett is working with Bane who uses the fingerprints in order to frame Bruce Wayne in making a series of erroneous trades the Gotham Stock Exchange that soon tank the entire company; which if left in Daggett’s control, would provide Bane all of the firepower he would need to launch an attack. The prints cause Wayne Enterprises board to fire Bruce, but before he can, he appoints one of their more trusted board members, Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard). The company has been designing cold fusion with the use of a nuclear orb, though being in its nascent stage and undeveloped, they fear it getting into the wrong hands (especially if Dagget gains control of the company). Gordon then lands in the hospital after investigating the sewers where he comes across Bane’s lair, soon captured by some of their soldiers. Blake escapes and Gordon is captured, jumping into the rushing sewer water where he catches a bullet and is later found by John Blake, who admits that he knows Bruce Wayne is Batman and demands to know the truth of his disappearance and soon Batman goes into the sewers where he fights Bane, who strikes his back, knocking out one of his vertebrates. Christian Bale exudes the same exact torture I’ve experienced when throwing my own back out to the point of immobility or at the cost of complete andd unbearable pain. He’s sent to some deep prison well in the middle of some exotic desert; the place where Bane was born. The only way of escape is by climbing the precarious well which no man has done since; most dying as a result. With Gordon in the hospital, Peter Foley makes the ridiculous and unbelievable decision to have 99.9% of the Gotham police enter the sewers to retrieve Bane and his acolytes, which is exactly what Bane hopes for when he explodes all of the entrances, trapping them all inside and ripping away any protection for the city. There are somehow no off duty officers, or even a few left on the street to, you know, protect the rest of the city, and while I want to look past, it is such an incredible decision that serves as the foundation for the rest of the film that you can’t help but be pulled out for the remaining hour. There are still fantastic sequences, but for whatever they are, you realize that the world you’re now being asked to accept doesn’t make much sense. In situations such as this, I try and find alternatives that could have made it work. Perhaps the cops were all assassinated one by one (which would be even harder to accept), or maybe they could have somehow been poisoned by the scarecrows sewer juice. This would have also been hard, but at least we would have accepted the consequence; the larger issue being how they avoided poisoning the whole city, which I can’t find a way to work around. The easiest answer seems to be that they could have shown the hundreds of off duty cops and the handful of street cops to have been killed off or arrested. They could have gotten access to the schedule through a simple throwaway scene of a corrupt cop providing the information. While not perfect, it at least would have shown that no, not nearly every single cop went into the sewer which no sane person would possibly order. I’d argue this could even be shot and integrated into the film to fix the glaring problem. A few cutaway scenes showing the few remaining have now been killed. Bane then launches an attack on Gotham city during one of their big professional league football games, where the crowd is decked in the old school yellow and black batman colors, which seems a bit too vibrant for the overall palette. A bomb goes off which explodes the fields, killing all of the players, except for one man who makes it to the end zone for a touchdown. It’s one of the few scenes in the series that leans far too heavy into digital effects, making you wish they scaled it down a bit in order to pull off a more vivid sequence which would honor the rest of the film. It’s when Bane reads Gordon’s secret speech that reveals Harvey’s corruption that the film bends another bound of logic; namely, if I just watched a football field completely explode and kill dozens of players and spectators, I’m not sure how much of an impact a crazy person reading an alleged speech from James Gordon would have. Nevertheless, it causes mass panic, perpetuated when Bane introduces Dr. Pavel who explains the nuclear bomb circling the city. The US Government sends in troops, though Bane threatens to destroy the entire city if they attempt to come in. Another issue is when, due to Catwoman’s savviness, they put her into the all male prison, which appeared done for the sole reason of allowing her escape when Bane’s army breaks in and releases all of the male prisoners who join them (though why they couldn’t have done the same with a women's prison, I’m not sure). This then bounces right into the next question as to why in the world Gotham City’s prison population, all immediately provided with automatic weapons, would then electively fall under Bane’s command. The easy solution is showing Bane’s intimidation tactics, but it also seems like it could have been cooler if there were multiple factions (having extra police up above ground would fit well in this regard; they’d be just another faction). After numerous failed attempts to escape and a return to training, Bruce’s cellmate pops his vertebrae back into his spine. Bruce finally scales the well walls and returns to Gotham where his Batcopter blasts the police free and joins them in attacking Bane and his crew, as though straight from Medieval times. Batman fights Bane on the footsteps of city hall where Miranda Tate appears, revealing that she’s Ra’s al Ghul’s father and continuing her father’s mission to “liberate” the world of an immoral Gotham; by blowing it up with a nuclear weapon cruising around Gotham, hidden in a truck. There’s an exciting sequence where Gordon and Blake attempt to chase down the truck with the bomb and disarm it the best they can; failing, only for Batman to then fly in and grab it, to then fly out to see where he allegedly sacrifices himself in order to save Gotham. Earlier in the film when Alfred nearly quits in protest over Batman returning to the streets, there’s a flash of him expressing what he wants; to see Bruce settled down and married, perhaps with some children. In the closing images of the film, we see Alfred arrive at the very place we saw earlier, with Bruce at the table with the Catwoman; and while you first want to think it’s a nice nod to Alfred’s commitment, you then wonder how Bruce dating a criminal could possibly work. You then wonder if it’s just a fantasy and that Bruce is dead and perhaps it was only Alfred’s fantasy (but then why would it be Catwoman in the dream?). The best possibility is that it actually happened and it wasn’t a compliment to Alfred so much as reality like the rest of the film, and so I’m left hoping Nolan returns; as it feels almost certain that he will. No one can continue Nolan’s story because it’s so much his vision of the story; which he created loosely off the Frank Miller material alongside his brother, but very much made his own. It seems especially likely when John Blake mentions his name Robin, which would make zero sense to include unless explained further; he could have just as easily said Tiger and he may or may not have become Batman’s sidekick. If I was a betting man, I’d guess around the mid-2020s it’ll return; preventing Bruce Wayne from getting too old for plausibility (not that Christian Bale couldn’t do it; though then what’s the difference?). There seems so much left to explore, and looking it up, he did hint at a fourth film back at Cannes in 2018. In terms of superhero comic book, I’d put The Dark Knight Rises in fourth after Logan, as compared to nearly all of the Marvel movies I’ve seen (and I haven’t most of them), this is unparalleled. I can look past the liberties it took with the story as it was all in an effort to provide the most cinematic action sequences possible. It goes far enough to pull you out, but only during the quieter moments; when the police are marching through the tunnels and the coordinated attack goes off, it sets off a thrilling final act, providing bumper to bumper action which in and of itself is phenomenal. Only Nolan could somehow match the adrenaline between a person climbing out of a well with a Batcopter chasing a truck with a nuclear bomb. Watching Christopher Nolan is watching someone that, like Spielberg or Kubrick, captures the highest of imagination, all while abandoning the bells and whistles of style in order to tell as realistic a story as possible. As a kid I was always bummed when I finished Back to the Future, knowing that the world was over and that’s all there was to see. Watching these films, I feel the same; the world is so vivid and I wish there was more to explore. Hopefully there’ll be. BELOW: Why Nolan should never go with CGI 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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 Tom Hardy's first mask Director: Christopher Nolan Writer: Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan; story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer Cinematographer: Wally Pfister Producer: Emma Thomas, Christopher Nolan, and Charles Roven by Jon Cvack During our recent annual boys trip - where my three best friends and I spent an extended Memorial Day weekend up in Donner Lake (where we filmed Road to the Well), we got into an extended argument about whether art is democratic or subjective. I believe it is as while there is objectively good craft that goes into the making of art, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll connect to audiences. Van Gogh made hundreds of paintings, but "The Starry Night", "Self-Portrait", "Cafe Terrace" are for whatever reason his most famous pieces which millions hang reprints of in their homes. His paintings were widely shunned until long after his death, as the art form was evidently too progressive for its time and required the world to catch up. Shakespeare wrote around 38 plays, but he’s best known for King Lear, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and Othello. I’m sure academics and critics could either explain why they are the best, or possibly why others should be more popular. The point is that these individuals sent their art out in the world and those are the pieces that most connected to the masses. I understand the criticisms of Rotten Tomatoes, in which the craft of criticism is deduced to an aggregate score, but nevertheless, if you want to know if a film is pretty good, Rotten Tomatoes is fairly reliable. Anything critic sore above a 70% or so is probably worth checking out, and anything above a 90% if probably going to be incredible. The same goes for user ratings, whether on Rotten Tomatoes or IMDb; the film masses put in their own score and the scores are aggregated. A common misconception is that these numbers are some type of official score rather than averages. The point is that regardless of how the individual feels, the work is scored by the aggregate of critics, general movie fans, and cinephiles. My friends disagreed with this line of reasoning, as they believe there are objective standards of what good art is, begging the question as to who this God-like individual is that has come up with objective standards as to what constitutes good art. As to even say a committee of people would come up with them would also make the process democratic, as by the nature of compromise, some would win their standards, others would lose, and a few in the middle might get exactly what they want. Word of mouth is another democratic form of celebrating a work of art. If a movie is good enough we’ll post it to Facebook and tell our friends and the filmmaker achieves the legendary word of mouth success that is perhaps the finest form of merit. Someone then might say they only read one specific critic and it’s that critic which best reflects their taste. Back when Ebert was still alive, I used to avoid looking at this star rating before I saw the film and see how close we were. I’d say we agreed around 90% of the time, plus or minus a half star. While I do believe he could objectively argue what a good film is, I also didn’t read many other critics. Perhaps my taste was directed by him and if I had consumed another critic, I would have seen and experienced films differently. Maybe it was his Chicago roots and blue collar vibe that made what seems to be a field now dominated by hyper educated elites. As of writing this, I’m reading my Pauline Kael collection of reviews “Love Movies: 1998-1991” and after around fifty reviews, I think she’s only celebrated a couple of them; appreciating, but taking the axe to such films such as Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989), Goodfellas (1990), Field of Dreams (1989), and Back to the Future Part 2 (1989). I struggle to think of more than two movies she enjoys (none of which I’ve even heard of), but her writing and insights are fantastic. If I read her before seeing these films for the first time, I might have grasped her point. I’ve tried other critics as well, but few seem to offer more that 90% synopsis and 10% paragraphs (a problem I’ve realized I’m bumping into over this last year); they’re not telling you about why the film’s good, they’re just telling you what it’s about and if they liked it. Thus, whether it’s through reading multiple critics, looking at the critic’s aggregate score, looking on Rotten Tomatoes, IMDb or Netflix at how people like the film - it’s ultimately providing a reason to check out the film. It’s the fairest way to decide whether a film is good or bad; you’re allowing a spectrum of people - some with your tastes, some in opposition - to share what they think. You then do your part by either rating, sharing, talking about, or perhaps saying nothing at all. I can appreciate a film for a variety of reasons - whether of an individual actor or director or cinematographer or writer or a specific production company like A24. From there, I can appreciate performance, blocking, set design, photography, special effects, story, mood, sound, score, make up, wardrobe - essentially everything that gets a nomination (which is why casting and stunts should get a category). Ideally, all of these elements add up into a perfect movie. That’s the goal. Most recently and closely achieved with The Revenant (2015). At other times, all of these elements are absent and the movie becomes torturous to watch; providing that strange experience where time seems to slow down and your phone is sitting there, calling to you for distraction. Suffice it to say, The Dark Knight Rises was a contentious movie. Some loved it, I enjoyed it, and others hated it. I’ve said it before, but The Dark Knight is up there somewhere with Indiana Jones and Back to the Future as one of the all time great summer blockbuster trilogies. Christopher Nolan creates a world just as rich as Burton’s, though shifting toward realism. There are implausibilities and silly moments, but for the most part it all abides by a particular logic, and with Nolan being one of the all time greatest action scene craftsmen, his films literally feel large when I watch them; as though my TV and sound has expanded, fulling immersing me with the story. Like the vast majority of trilogies, The Dark Knight Rises is the weakest film of the series, but with Nolan’s skill, I can look past the weak plot and appreciate the individual moments he creates. It was this film that kickstarted the conversation about art, as my friend thinks that Gotham sending all of the police into the sewer was far too ridiculous an idea to buy, pulling him out of the movie. Although it's been too long since I've seen the movie (I always seem to stop after the first two), I completely agree. It is an absurd, plot-serving idea that they used in order to get the police off the street and allow Bane and his minions to take control of Gotham. Where my friend and I differ is that I can still appreciate the fight on the steps of city hall, the BatCopter chasing a truck with a nuclear bomb, and phenomenal car chases; not in terms of some grand artistry, but because they are so fun to watch. Regardless of why they’re happening I’m fully immersed and enthralled with what’s happening, and if we’re going to look at the roots of cinema and how it relied entirely on the image, these moments contain just as much art and craft as anything else. The movie opens eight years after The Dark Knight (2008), which for those who don’t remember (cause I never have in my three viewings), Harvey Dent (aka Two Face) was killed by Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman), though Batman took the rap due to both fearing that the city couldn’t recover after the town learns that their charismatic mayoral candidate was entirely corrupt. Before getting into the details, the film provides us with our first action sequence in which a group of captive terrorists are transported via plane back to the states. They’re led by Bane (Tom Hardy), a former League of Shadows member, who’s been captured and en route for extradition. The sequence provides the exact level of realism seen in the other films, in which it sure looks like they actually had two planes flying in the sky, attach cables, and have terrorists jump through the windows in order to make the extraction. However, it also begs the first question as to whether this was the best way to accomplish the mission. Would surrounding the men before they got on the plane, taking them out through snipers, or simply having more troops been easier? Sure, but that also would have been boring to watch, and going off my first point, a large part of what makes these films work is the incredibly realistic action sequences. BELOW: Not sure if this was the best to retrieve Bane but it's sure fun to watch Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Not sure how I still have never heard anything about this film. Give it time Director: François Simard, Anouk Whissell & Yoann-Karl Whissell Writer: Matt Leslie and Stephen J. Smith Producer: Shawn Williamson, Jameson Parker, Matt Leslie, Van Toffler, and Cody Zwieg Cinematographer: Jean-Philippe Bernie by Jon Cvack Stranger Things and other 80s period or inspired films focused on kids have essentially been operating as Nostalgic Retro Porn: a combination of colors, music, tropes, and pop culture icons that any great period piece can enhance. When I was growing up in the 90s, there was an endless array of the same types of stories set in the 50s - My Girl (1991), Now and Then (1995), Stand by Me (1986), and Barry Levinson’s 50s Quadrilogy, they too possessing iconic images and sounds. Summer of ‘84 changes up the movement by scaling it back; foregoing the neon RGB colors and extravagant set pieces and instead providing a low budget indie period piece. It serves as part Stand by Me, part Fright Night, and two parts Rear Window. It’s limited budget and occasional uninspired dialogue and poor acting prevents the story from ever achieving greatness, but it also more firmly aligns the film with its 80s ancestors. If this feels cheap, so too would have comparable films from the period. It allows the film the freedom to wobble at places, but overall, the story is effective. It opens up in Cape May, Oregon where over thirteen boys have gone missing. We meet the tweenish Dave Armstrong (Graham Vercher ) as he finishes his paper route; ending up at his neighbor and police officer Wayne Mackey (Rich Sommer) might be the one responsible. Mackey is awkward and dopey, about as close as it gets to a stereotypical serial killer living in the suburbs. He’s friendly, though creepy and after Dave mentions that he’s behind on the paper delivery payments, Mackey invites him inside to get the money and show him his new photography dark room. Dave has an obsession for conspiracy theories and the supernatural. His room is covered in newspaper clipping about the missing boys, UFOs, and more. When Dave sees a boy his age over at Mackeys one night, who later looks like a missing kid on the back of a milk carton, he voices his concern to his best friends Dale "Woody" Woodworth (Caleb Emery), Curtis Farraday (Cory Gruter-Andrew), and Tommy "Eats" Eaton (Judah Lewis) who all express their reservations, though soon agree to launch into a scout mission to document Mackey’s day to day life. Cut between all this are nightly games of hide and seek throughout the neighborhood and Dave crushing hard on his former babysitter Nikki Kaszub (Tiera Skovbye) who’s parents have recently divorced. When she catches him spying on her, invites herself over and suggests enough interest to drive Dave love crazy. In one sequence, straight with 80s snap-zooms and cheesy flash cutting and the necessary use of large walkie talkies, the boys soon discover that Mackey leaves his house daily to buy over 100 pounds of dirt and sodium hydroxide. Needing hard evidence, the four sneak into the yard, finding freshly laid dirt in the flower beds, and then breaking into the shed and finding one of the local boy's t-shirts with blood all over. Dave decides to tell his parents, making his father furious and who forces the boys over to Mackey’s the next day to apologize. Mackey acts as though he doesn’t care, with Rich Sommer providing just enough gawkiness to make you wonder if it’s him. Before they leave, Dave asks about the boy he saw and Mackey says it was his nephew offering to call, but Dave’s father declines the offer. The next day, in a thrilling scene, Dave is stuck home grounded and Mackey visits on his way to work in order to apologize and try and get him out of too much trouble. It’s here, although most precedent has proved me wrong, that I found myself doubting whether it was Mackey. It seemed too obvious, but that again is part of the 80s throwback; the likeliest answer tended to be the right one. Dave requests that Mackey call his nephew; grabbing a knife and handing Mackey the phone; maximally framed for tension as Dave’s body blocks the weapon. Mackey calls, but gets no answer and later leaves. Dave calls the operator and finds out that Mackey had just called his home; concluding that it was all a lie to his skeptical friends. The next day, the police arrest a suspect, with Mackey getting the credit, all the more intriguing Dave’s parents who not just accused the wrong person, but a neighborhood hero. Dave remains undeterred, hoping to exploit the popular Cape May Festival by being left home alone where Curtis and Eats can keep an eye on Mackey while Dave and Woody head into Mackey’s basement. Dave grabs his dad’s news camera and they head over, with Nikki joining along. Having just watched Rear Window (1954), the parallels were excelling; similar to our doubts about Lars Thorwald and whether he actually did it, we’re left wondering about the facts down to the very end. As creepy as the basement is, there’s no evidence of foul play, until Dave sees another door, opens it up and finds what looks like a living room; with pictures strewn on the walls. They continue onto the bathroom, pulling back the curtain and finding a decayed body in a tub full of sodium hydroxide. The missing local boy then grabs their feet. It cuts out and the boys are hailed as heroes as they play the tape for the police and their parents. Mackey is still on the loose and with Woody’s mom working, he sleeps over at Dave’s. Later in the evening, Mackey descends from Dave’s exit and uses chloroform to knock the boys out and then takes them deep into the middle of the woods. In a shocking sequence, he slices open Woody’s throat and chases Dave down, though instead of killing him, Woody says he’s letting Dave go in order to keep him in indefinite fear. Dave returns back, experiencing severe trauma, though attempts to return to his normal life. Aside from a few cheesy moments of dialogue and some subpar acting, it’s hard to find much wrong with the film. It could have used a polish, but it’s this rawness that makes the film feel unique. The mission of any coming of age story is to capture the essence of what it’s like to be with your childhood friends and have an adventure. Stand by Me and Now and Then operate under comparable settings; with death operating as a right of passage: moving from the distant and undefined to a direct experience. In the Summer of 84’s case, it gives direct enlightenment as to the kids' own mortality. The bonds between friends, a first crush that leads to a first kiss, and the adventures that define youth - it checks all the boxes of a great coming of age story. Abandoning the bells and whistles of its competitors, and up against severe limitations, it doesn’t have the photographic quality of similar movies, but it does contain the spirit. My primary criticism are the wardrobes, in which all of the clothes look freshly purchased and worn for the first time. But compared to everything else, it’s an easy thing to forget. I’m confident that the movie will find horror fans soon enough. BELOW: So low-key there's not even a clip on YouTube (other than the ending) Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Martin Scorsese Writer: Laeta Kalogridis; based on Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane Cinematographer: Robert Richardson Producer: Mike Medavoy, Arnold W. Messer, Bradley J. Fischer and Martin Scorsese by Jon Cvack As said in my thoughts on The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016), Identity (2003) is arguably the most disappointing movie of all time per the ratio of how good it is up to its final moments and we learn the last hundred minutes was all the hallucinations of a schizophrenia killer. After checking out Shutter Island for a third time, and yet again hoping I failed to notice the details, I’m ready to say that Shutter Island takes second place. The first third of the film is A+ Scorsese filmmaking. Every time I watch the film it’s as though I’m having a flawless sensory massage. The story is brilliant in its simplicity - two US Marshals visit an Island on the eve of a hurricane in order to investigate a missing patient at a mental institution, with the added delight that one of the US Marshals suspects that the place is being run by American Nazis conducting experiments for the military. Recently I read Rebecca (1938); a book with the most awfully misleading titles next to David Simon’s Show Me a Hero (2015). It’s the first time I grasped a particular genre - a type of modern Gothic thriller (I’m sure a more astute book lover could better categorize); a genre that Hitchcock would start with - involving a seemingly supernatural event occurring that would go on to have an explanation (Hitchcock would go on to win Best Picture for Rebecca’s adaptation). Shutter Island seems to fit the same category; except rather than explaining away the supernatural, it has to explain away the extraordinary. Leonardo DiCaprio plays Officer Teddy Daniels; a WWII veteran who was amongst the soldiers who discovered the Dachau Nazi concentration camp and whose wife had recently burned alive in a fire. His partner is Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo). They arrive at the island off Boston Harbor, discovering the hospital is actually an old civil war fortress; now guarding the criminally insane. The place is run by lead psychiatrist Dr. John Cawley (Ben Kingsley) who’s suspicious of their involvement and how far they wish to extend their investigation. Not remembering exactly what happened in the film, the one glimmer of hope I have of enjoying the movie is to give it another viewing remembering that Dr. John Cawley was in on the whole scam. Even by the third time, I kept thinking he was simply a proud man with the right connections that could make him smugly dissent from the US Marshals’ orders. I’ll stop here to explain that the issue I have with whether this whole story was a performance, or whether Teddy imagines they’re just calling it a performance, or if Teddy’s suspicions were in fact accurate (NOTE: the book is definitive that it was an act). The problem is that in order to defend these positions each element in support of it must be sound; you can’t loose ends to support ambiguity. For instance, Crawley has denied them access to personnel and patient records and limits where they can go, which while odd, is understandable. He then grants access to at least some of the patients, which seems like a high risk for having at least one of them recognize Teddy and spill the beans; then again, one patient hands Teddy a piece of paper which tells him to RUN, such an ambiguous and cheap riddle that begs the question as to why the woman just couldn’t be more direct with Teddy. Giving him a note telling him to run seems just as consequential as telling him he’s all part of some ruse. The men then move to examine Rachel Solando’s room (for those who forget, the name is ananagrams of both Teddy’s ex-wife Dolores Chanal and the arsonist and ex-military buddy of Teddy who killed her named, Andrew Laeddis). They find a note on the floor stating "The law of 4; who is 67?"; a cryptic and fascinating clue that again fails a stress test as to whether Teddy’s paranoid suspicions were true. The anagram is specifically designed for Teddy. “The Law of 4” wouldn’t apply to anything else (or least so far as I can see). “Who is 67?” is a pretty good puzzle; a question that seems obvious enough once figured out, logical for the doctors to provide, and mysterious enough for Teddy and us to have to piece together. We learn that Rachel’s doctor was granted leave immediately after Rachel’s loss; told by a sexy nurse who I wondered whether an aspiring actress who didn’t give a shit about spilling the beans, or an actual nurse. Teddy and Chuck visit Crowley and his partner Dr. Jeremiah Naehring (Max von Sydow) in an absolutely brilliant scene. It’s a moment like this that balances between both sides of the reality. Naehring is deliberately cryptic, if not coming across mostly disinterested, while Teddy grows increasingly frustrated over their failure to comply, going so far as to suggest that Naehring might be a Nazi. The performances are spot on, and soon Teddy gets a migraine, and Robert Richardson’s signature light powers up to 11. Teddy wakes up the next day and a storm has come in. They continue their investigation to discover that Rachel has returned, played by Emily Mortimer who breaks down in tears explaining what happened, going so far as to hug Teddy which again felt like a strange moment; whether real or not, why would Crowley allow a psychopath to endanger Teddy’s life and hug him, especially when the experiment was meant as a safer alternative to lobotomy? By this point the film is now running on all cylinders and Teddy and Chuck head into the hospital’s cemetery where the storm reaches its apex; the wind breaking down trees and whipping branches in all directions. They end up in a crypt where Teddy explains how he thinks that the place is operating as a Nazi infilitrated experimental camp; supporting his thesis with experiences in Dachau and what they did to the prisoners. At this point, it is a close to perfect movie; as because you don’t know what the ending is (or can’t remember) everything makes sense. Especially, for as crazy as it seems, Teddy’s suspicion isn’t impossible: the place could have been infiltrated by Nazis who’re running experiments on the criminally insane in order to create new weapons of warfare. Perhaps it’s my fandom of pop-WWII action movies (along with Wolfenstein), it seems like this was the perfect set up - Teddy would go on to prove his thesis, supported by the evidence. It’s one of the few times I can recall the sensation of a film so strongly getting you excited for a certain plot and then turning a complete 180 in favor of a far more boring path. Identity is comparable. It’s plot wasn’t nearly as strong at the beginning. It was all a mystery. Shutter Island teases what could be a phenomenal and horrifying set up and instead abandons it for something plain and simply boring. The second third isn’t as bad as I remember, as Teddy and Chuck return to the hospital, exchanging their suits for inmate uniforms. They soon take advantage of the chaos and make their way to cordoned Ward C, as the warden (Ted Levine), his officers, and the orderlies do their best to round up the patients and clean up the storm debris. It’s the area with the institutions most murderously insane. It’s a scene where you immediately recall Silence of the Lambs. Teddy then sees a naked prisoner running down the hallways and leads Chuck to the labyrinth of corridors before the two finally part ways; leading Teddy to meet up with patient George Noyce (Jackie Earle Haley) who explains the experiment he runs on people. Referring toIMDb’s FAQ it’s says that he had been given orders to tell these lies; begging the question again as to 1) how did they get George memorize this much, 2) why would he go along with it, and 3) why wouldn’t he just explain that Teddy’s all part of the experiment (though to this last point, perhaps he doesn’t know who Teddy is, but then why does Teddy know him)? Teddy soon finds Andrew Laeddis (Elias Koteas) in the cells - again, the man who allegedly killed his wife - and the two talk about the war and how Teddy left him or something. I honestly can’t remember the details and this is the exact point we shift into the final and crushing last third of the film as Teddy then leaves, meets up with Chuck and the two try to reach the famous lighthouse. En route, Teddy sees a fire and climbs down into a cave where he meets the allegedly real Rachel Salando (now played by Patricia Clarkson) who essentially shatters the film’s ambiguity. This second Salando mentions she’s a former doctor and corroborates the experiments Teddy suspected and she’s now been living in the wild, bouncing from place to place to hide and one day escape; although the area is crawling with guards on the search; an idea so outlandish that we immediately grasp that Teddy is likely hallucinating everything. Teddy makes his way to the lighthouse where he discovers Dr. Crowley alone up top. He explains that the whole event was a game designed to repair his mind. Everyone was in on it, from the first Rachel Solando to the nurses and guards. Teddy refuses to believe, grabs his gun and discovers it’s plastic (another problem; as imagine if he actually needed to use it such as when Rachel grabs him). Chuck then arrives, now wearing a nice suit and reveals himself as Teddy’s therapist. There’s a meltdown and another migraine and Teddy passes out. He later awakes and admits to what he did and in a horrifying flashback we see Teddy admit the “truth” of Dolores’ death was that when he arrived home years ago, he found his wife had drowned their three children. Teddy then shot her dead. A mix of that and the holocaust completely destroyed his mind. By the end, what I recalled as having such fairly strong subjectivity played out far differently. Teddy grabs a smoke on the hospital steps. Chuck joins him and Teddy plays it cool, lowering his voice and explaining that they need to find a way off the island. Counter to the first two viewings, it was a far more somber and objective moment. Chuck looks over to Crawley, shaking his head, signaling that Teddy hasn’t been cured and will likely need a lobotomy. I wonder if another viewing with the details still fresh while knowing that it’s all a Fincher-like ruse might make it more interesting. Then again, I just find this such a heartbreaking film to watch. Set up for a grand slam and ending without a single run. It seems odd to consider that we’re essentially being entertained with a story of the complete mental breakdown of an extremely disturbed man. Especially when it didn’t even cure him. It’s a film that I hope gets remade some day; following the other angle in having him follow the evil in men’s hearts rather exploiting the sickness in a man’s head. As we say to those we love most, it's not bad movie, it's just disappointing. BELOW: Even knowing none of this mattered, still takes me to the edge of my seat every time Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Nothing better than a single location horror flick Director: André Øvredal Writer: Ian Goldberg and Richard Naing Cinematographer: Roman Osin Producer: Fred Berger, Eric Garcia, Ben Pugh, and Rory Aitken by Jon Cvack Seeing the film starred Brian Cox and Emile Hirsch, I avoided reading anything else. The title was obvious enough. The story opens on a crime scene where the police have dug up a beautiful young woman in pristine condition; her skin fair and nearly glowing without a mark on her body. With the cop needing immediate information, he takes the body to a local coroner. We meet Austin and his father Tommy as they complete the autopsy on the last patient of the night; listening to some classic rock on the radio and grooving along with the work. Tommy sends Austin off early to go meet up with a girl he’s been seeing named Emma (Ophelia Lovibond). As he’s about to leave the sheriff rolls up with the body and explains the urgency of having the cause of death determined by morning. Emma arrives, but feeling guilty, Austin asks if they can meet up later so that his father doesn’t have to work alone. The two start the autopsy, immediately realizing that the body has no signs of trauma except for her wrists and ankles being shattered and her tongue having been cut out. She’s also missing a molar. They open up the body, snapping the rib cage open and discovering black lungs and that her organs have countless amounts of cuts and scar tissue, as though sliced. They later peel her skin away to discover black magic scripture written across the insides. Note is how the filmmakers portray Jane Doe for the film’s duration (played by Olwen Kelly) as a beautiful woman who lies naked on the table. It appears a subtle comment on how women are portrayed in film; that so long as they’re attractive and naked it doesn’t matter whether they speak or lie dormant. It is an object for us to look at. It is the Kuleshov effect; as each subsequent episode occurs we cut back to her neutral face which communicates as much as the most popular women in horror films. During their initial autopsy, the radio shifts into an old song from the 1920s; later shifting to local news where the reporter says that storms are coming in with a risk of flooding. The set up is perfect, providing exactly what you desire from a horror film. A rainy night. Some people alone in a creepy place dealing with a mysterious object which seems to be involved with forces wanting to kill them; whether aliens like in The Thing, or a perfect sphere from Sphere, or a handful of strangers at a haunted mansion like House on Haunted Hill. The story essentially uncovers a question - why is this happening and how is the object involved? Where most fail is in resolving the question satisfactorily. At a ratio of how good a movie is compared to its ending, Identity is unmatched. It has the most disappointing ending of all time. It was all a psychotic fantasy, just an inch above it was all a dream. Shutter Island is a close second, with a first third that is absolutely flawless storytelling, fading in the second act, and then crashing hard in the third; it too was all a psychotic man’s fantasy. Check out my thoughts on Shutter Island (2010 for more details, but basically my main issue is that both dreams or hallucinations permit anything; drifting into the realm of surrealism where the experience is limitless in logic. There is no foundation. Any image could be created because none of the images are real. To me, cinema - and literature - is about connecting with a universal truth. It’s similar to watching a film completely in someone’s POV; it feels limited, when instead a more macro view could have made it better. It was all a dream/fantasy/psychotic episode is lazy writing; it’s what you do when you’ve painted yourself into a corner. The film’s that get it right provide that uncanny sensibility throughout the story. Things are getting weirder and weirder - or better - scarier and scarier and we do not know why. The Village (2004) is an example where the answer, while logical to a degree, was simply unsatisfying. The Autopsy of Jane Doe combines a mysteriously dead body who seems to be contributing to a supernatural presence determined to kill Austin and Tommy. The movie is a tight 85 minutes, moving from scene to scene with momentum and yet with deliberation. The filmmakers and actors convey a respect and comprehension of the medical terms rather than just reciting and pasting them down. It levels out their incredible discoveries; making you wonder if it was somehow a serial killer; honestly wondering if it was simply person that burned her lungs, cut up her organs, broke her ankles and wrists, cut out her tongue, and tattoo the inside of her chest skin all without leaving a mark on the rest of the body. That is, until the other bodies in the morgue disappear and rise up to kill them. Like a perfect shift in a jazz band, we comprehend what’s going on just as Tommy does; realizing that Jane Doe is something evil and must be destroyed; that she very well is a witch that was tortured to death and whose spirit has lived on. Tommy attempts to burn her alive and we witness the resistance; causing the destruction to become all the more powerful. After one of the bodies seems to attack them at the door, they run for the elevator. The doors shut and their attacked and Tommy swings to kill the creature; catching them in the head. The doors open and they see it was Emma. A twist so simple and yet unexpectedly perfect. The concluding deaths are equally terrifying; demonstrating that the power isn’t in her to kill Tommy and Austin so much as make them kill the other or self; to scare them into death. Her torture becomes their mental torture. It shows the way hallucinations can work; it is not from their perspective, it is something happening to them. It is an amazing horror film. BELOW: Avoided reading or watching any trailers and had no idea where this was going; what a scene Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  From Katrina victim to David Simon collaborator Director: Spike Lee Cinematographer: Cliff Charles Producer: Spike Lee by Jon Cvack I had watched Spike Lee’s When the Levees Broke (2006) back when it first came out just a year after Hurricane Katrina. I regard it as one of the top ten documentaries ever made. As Anderson Cooper Wendell Pierce, and others mentioned in this film, the coverage of Katrina faded far faster than it should have; as after the water began to recede, tens of thousands were left without shelter, medical, food, or water. Some were separated from their families and shipped out with no idea where they were going, and others were packed into the New Orlean Saints Superdome. A few resorted to doing whatever it took to survive, whether for noble or dishonorable purposes while facing an overactive and racist police department. In the end nearly 1,833 Americans died. The destruction, disruption, and violence most of these - dominantly black - individuals was staggering to the mind. Not being into politics at the time, it was one of the most impactful films I’d seen. It’s by sheer chance that this was the next film I watched from Spike Lee, after I began watching David Simon’s Treme just a few months prior. In the series, taking place a few years after Katrina, the town struggles to rebuild, Phyllis Montana LeBlanc plays the wife Desiree of a borderline deadbeat struggling trombonist Wendell Pierce. The two share a child which is essentially Desiree’s entire responsibility. There was something about LeBanc that stood out; the way Harvey Keitel or Harry Dean Stanton seem completely independent of the Hollywood machine; the type of actor that makes you realize how polished performers actually are. It was a performer who felt completely authentic to the area. Sure enough, Phyllis opens up If God is Willing and Da Creek Don’t Rise with one of Spike Lee’s signature styles in having her recite the lyrics to what inspired the title. Expecting to find a song, the closest I can come to is Johnny Cash’s version “If the Good Lord’s Willing”, originally written by Johnny Reed with Lee changing Zeppelin’s When the Levees Break to When the Levees Broke, it seems Cash’s track has some influence. From there, we get what I think is my favorite signature music collaboration between a director and composer, utilizing one of Terence Blanchard and his haunting and brooding jazz score. I don’t enjoy putting music into the words and yet as harrowing as Blanchard’s music is, there’s a type of perseverance existing between the notes. The film then opens the day of the 2010 NFL Superbowl, where the New Orleans Saints played the Indianapolis Colts. With Katrina residents still recovering, the game is more than just a game. It’s something that gives people hope and unites the city. The Saints go on to win, but rather than going on to riot and burn cars like other teams, they simply get wasted, dress up, and dance in the streets. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, this game means completely nothing beyond a symbolic gesture. The film then cuts into the many issues the resident’s still face, from severe PTSD, to revamping their public school system, to rebuilding their homes and businesses, and we see that for a story that might have been covered for about a month (according to Anderson Cooper), has actually gone on for five years and will likely continue for years to come. I was left wondering and thankful that such an event didn’t happen while Trump was in office and how much worse things might have been (then again, nearly 3,000 died in Puerto Rico for similar reasons; providing comparable racist coverage; that is, far too little). Although each topic could warrant an in depth discussion there were some that were simply shocking to watch. One involved something I had first seen in Treme, where Clarke Peters played Albert "Big Chief" Lambreaux, who’s bar had been destroyed by the flood, and who returns back to his apartment in the projects; squatting in his home and refusing to come out against police orders. This was a contentious issue in New Orlean local politics as thousands of residents returned to find the projects still standing. The city refused to let them in, believing that the cost of repairing the plumbing and wiring wasn’t worth it; opting instead to tear them down and replace them with mixed income housing. As with other areas, the city appeared motivated to get rid of its poorest neighborhoods in order to attract wealthier families and investors. Many of the residents at the time talked of culture, and the need to preserve it. Put differently, they didn’t want to be gentrified like all the neighborhoods in Chicago, San Francisco, and Seattle. I was on the fence about this one, as while I’m sure they could have borne the cost of renovation, the projects were simply ugly buildings that were over seventy years old; built during Roosevelt’s New Deal. The mixed income housing that went up was far more pleasing to the eye and attractive. Then again, if this meant that most of these people who suffered in the storm were simply forced out of the area with no opportunity to return, then their grievance trumps any progression. The poor should never lose their home in order to accommodate wealthy developers. Another story we often forget is the Deep Water Horizon accident occur, and how the same year the Saints won the super bowl, just eight months later the BP oil rig would pump nearly five million gallons of oil into the Gulf of Mexico, killing countless amounts of wildlife, crippling the fishing and tourist industries, and permanently damaging the bayou and its complex ecosystem. We hear the incredulity and disbelief from throughout the community; as though they’re living on cursed land, especially when Obama fails to call out BP beyond anything other than a slap on the wrist. If they couldn’t trust the first black president to help, who could they trust? It’s this dejection and subsequent persistence that Terence Blanchard’s score best captures. While writing this, Ta-Haisi Coates and Danny Glover testified before congress over the issue of slavery reparations. For those in doubt of reparations, whether conservatives who beg the entire question, or liberals who wonder where to position them alongside other big government programs, I urge you to check out Trevor Noah’s perfect response during an audience Q&A. It’s when you grasp the multi-generational injustices that long occurred after slavery, and how many racial injustices still exist because of it, that the abject failure of Hurrican Katrina is yet another symptom of slavery’s legacy. No matter how you want to reason out how or why it happened, the government completely failed its black citizens and contributes yet another reason in favor of the policy. There were other stories and images that burn into your mind - of dead bodies rotting in the flooded city streets and the Danziger Bridge Shooting where two people were killed and four wounded by police, including a mentally handicapped man. With no justification for violence, two officers ended up going to jail for murder; the type of event I wonder how I never heard about. What Spike Lee best accomplishes is showing us the seemingly endless list of injustices, where even if you disagree with one, you’d struggle to ignore the majority. Alongside When the Levees Broke, it’s the type of documentary that could forever change your mind; the type of experience that rips the blinders from your eyes and shows you a moment in history you’d never think possible. Like Lee’s other greatest work, it's a film that makes you feel both guilty and appreciative to now know the truth. And again, with the help of Terence Blanchard’s score, it gives you a bit of hope that such knowledge will help make things better. BELOW: A talk with Spike Lee 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 Dafoe's best Director: Julian Schnabel Writer: Jean-Claude Carrière, Louise Kugelberg, and Julian Schnabel Cinematographer: Benoît Delhomme Producer: Jon Kilik by Jon Cvack I had recently watched Vincente Minelli’s Lust for Life (1956) about six months ago, not knowing about this film. For those who want a better experience, I’d suggest checking it out in order to better appreciate and fill in the blanks of At Eternity’s Gate. It stars Kirk Douglas as Vincent Van Gogh, following him from early in his career and up to his suicide (or murder in Schnabel’s case murder). There are three stories that I’m glad I knew of before - his close friendship to the firebrand painter Paul Gauguin who, alongside Van Gogh, were the vanguard of an artistic revolution; that Van Gogh’s creative pursuit was funded by Theo van Gogh; that Van Gogh slowly started to go insane, ending up in various institutions (especially after he cut off his ear) where he produced some of his best work; and that Van Gogh was considered a failure up to his death, his paintings considered gaudy and unrealistic (from my limited understanding, impressionism was at its zenith of popularity). At Eternity’s Gate takes place in the last few years of Van Gogh’s life. He’s played by Willem Dafoe (who received an overlooked Oscar nomination for the role), who's aware that he is slowly going insane. The film opens up in Paris where he befriends the ruthlessly self-centered and self-righteous painter Paul Gauguin (Oscar Isaac). Unable to sell a painting or handle living in the city, Van Gogh journeys to the Southern France countryside where his mind continues to deteriorate, landing him either voluntarily or compulsively into various institutions; all while he continues to paint some of his most famous pieces of work. The reason I’d suggest watching Lust for Life (or at least reading up on Van Gogh’s) is because the biography is operating far in the background. The story is about the mind of Van Gogh, told entirely through his perspective. What we get is a handheld camera (a style I’m starting to love with period pieces; such as Soderberg’s "The Knick" (2014-2015) or The Favorite (2018)), where with frenetic speed and wide lenses it wanders around and explores the scene; looking for character to person to landscape. The frame is often half distorted and out of focus when in Van Gogh’s point of view (inspired when Schnabel tried on bifocal glasses), and what seems like such an easy trick, creates a wildly disorienting experience; feeling as though Van Gogh is trying with all his might to bring the world and his mind into focus. All the while, Van Gogh paints with rapid speed; vowing to finish paintings all in one sitting as it’s when the muse is freshest. With great trickery and talent from both Dafoe and Schnabel we see the act of painting and the way in which Van Gogh would pile on globs of paint, creating what Gauguin described as sculpture rather than painting. Taking inspiration from Malick (though being one of the few filmmakers to pull it off) we follow Van Gogh as he wanders the natural world around him, falling into the fields and staring into sunsets, most often shot during some of the most beautiful golden hour photography I’ve ever seen, and allowing us to fully grasp the beauty that the artist was so overwhelmed by. It’s this immersion within Van Gogh’s mind that allows painter turned filmmaker Schnabel to pile in aphorisms about the creative process; something I imagine most artists can relate to in their pursuits; which only seem pretentious for those who fail to make a serious leap. And yet given Van Gogh’s story - dying before ever realizing even a modicum of success - they should serve to inspire anyone who struggles. “I paint, as a matter of fact, to stop thinking. I stop thinking, and I feel that I'm a part of everything outside and inside of me.” “I'll show what I see to my human brothers who can't see it. It's a privilege. I can give them hope and consolation.” “Because my vision is closer to the reality of the world. I can make people feel what it's like to be alive.” “Of all the miseries that afflict humanity, nothing maddens me more than the lack of money.” “Sometimes they say I'm mad, but a grain of madness is the best of art.” “I wanted so much to share what I see. Now I just think about my relationship to eternity.” Everyone I know who’s pursuing the arts has experienced one, if not all of these emotions. They’re thoughts we often don’t share publicly, as it seems as though if it was truly how you felt, then you should be successful, and if you’re not, you either must not be serious or good enough. As life further creeps in, and a new job, more money, a wife, child, or your aging relatives slowly creep into the pursuit, most are confronted with the question - do you have to do it, or can you stop and make it a hobby? It’s what makes the closing quote about his relationship to eternity so powerful; will we stop thinking about the adulation and fame and simply create for the very act of creating, hoping that honesty will allow the work to one day live beyond us, or remain forever yearning for that acceptance? In the age of cloud drives and streaming services, all art could theoretically live on for the next 7.5 billion years. We are all creating content that could and will exist forever, even if no one sees it now. It’s hopelessly naive, but it makes the alternative cynicism sting just a bit less. BELOW: Why do you _____? Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The boys are back. Not sure why, but they are Director: Doug Ellin Writer: Doug Ellin Cinematographer: Steven Fierberg Producer: Mark Wahlberg, Stephen Levinson, and Doug Ellin by Jon Cvack NOTE: I wrote this a few months before diving into the series, which I actually loved, both as a combination of living in LA and having interesting characters/stories. So I’d probably have to revisit the film, but given how quickly the series hooked me in, I’m guessing the following would stand. I'm still not why sure why this was made. I’m not sure what prompted my friend to send me the first forty-seconds of this film with Johnny "Drama" Chase (Kevin Dillon), Eric Murphy (Kevin Connolly), and "TurtleAssante (Jerry Ferrara) who’re cruising in a speed boat toward a massive yacht in the distance, where the vast majority of the people aboard are half-naked women in bikinis. In close up, we see Johnny lower some binoculars and say in his thick Brooklyn accent - “I should have jerked off first.” I haven’t seen much of Entourage, though I believe I randomly went through a decent chunk of the third or fourth season, back when the nascent Netflix streaming service would have select seasons of a show. It played as though a continuation of Swingers (1996) should one of them have gotten big, complete with all of the ball busting, women chasing, and camaraderie that someone in their early twenties might have found so enticing. It presents an (male) individual’s wildest dream of what Hollywood stardom could be; where even if you’re not all that ambitious, talented, or good looking, or some combination, a person could make it big by being close enough to someone is. This film might be closest to the line between pre and post #MeToo, as to think that this movie was made in 2015 just goes to show how quickly a movement has had an impact. This film is one of the most misogynistic films I’ve seen in recent times and I’m pretty sure I’d have to go back to the 80s to find anything comparable. The plot is almost comically absurd - Chase has directed his first film, went over budget, and the Texas investors want to significantly recut before providing additional mmoney (that is, something that could easily be the plot of a thirty minute episode). And it’s because of that plot that most of the film is about a bunch of now rich dudes are trying to fuck as many women with the least amount of resistance as possible (Turtle has launched a successful Tequila company and Johnny has worked his way into C+-level acting, including a part in Chase’s movie). In one scene, during a major-rager party for Chase’s test screening, we see the vast majority of women in bikinis, while beyond the attractive half naked guys, most of the men are fully clothed; including the celebrity cameos that the show was known for, including: Mark Cuban, Tom Brady, Gary Busey, Jon Favreau, and others I can’t much remember. Going through the list of cameos further proves the point, as over 90% of them are from dudes, often featured in the debaucherous parties, drugged up, soused, and playing the worst - or Busey’s case actual - sides of themselves. During the party, Turtle and Johnny find Eric in one of the room’s fucking a girl on the chair; who does nothing more than smile and laugh it off. They then confront their friend, asking how many girls he’s banged in the last week. He believes it’s at least three. This is in addition to his pregnant ex-girlfriend. Eric couldn’t be any less interested in the fact that he’s soon to be a father, and due to his daliences soon finds himself as father to yet another girl he hooked up.* This turns out to be fake and, come the end of the movie, he heads to the hospital after the water breaks and they have the baby, to which Johnny, Turtle, and Chase all show up to congratulate him, to which just minutes later, he leaves the woman who just gave birth to his child, to head off to another restaurant/bar/party. My other friend mentioned how the characters are always going somewhere in the series. It often involves one of the characters showing up with the other three, to which they talk or argue, then hop in a car and drive around. It all serves to provide an image of a life that 99.9999% could and will only dream about. Who wouldn’t want to wake up each day to a beautiful and perfect breakfast, either at home or at a pristine restaurant? Who wouldn’t want to constantly be surrounded by beautiful people, in which you could have your choice of any of them with minimal effort? Who wouldn’t want to have a job where the work is simply going to these drinking and hanging out with celebrities? The show is purest escape, and while it’s definitely a show for men, I don’t think it’s probably all that different than what Sex in the City did for women; inviting viewers into a life that most will never live, but in a way that makes them feel as though they’re there. Beyond the most glaring offense in having the women play little beyond sex appeal or as cumbersome attachments to the males, it’s not worth pinpointing each offense. The show is too self-aware to care. It knows what it’s doing and given all the fans out there, I’m sure it does it fine. But in 2019, not being familiar with the rest of the series, I saw something that, while providing such escape, also felt from a different era. In some ways, it almost felt like the most extravagant close possible to the Bro Period of popular storytelling. To think that four years later, this would likely have had a fraction of the success it did should make anyone optimistic for how quickly culture can change. And yet somehow, even with how little I like the characters, I find myself interested in checking out the first season and how far they’d take things. *It must be mentioned that this confrontation provides the film’s most bizarre scene, in which Eric goes to get breakfast with Johnny and Turtle, finds another girl he recently slept with who confronts him over the herpes he gave her, for the other girl (not his ex-girlfriend) to then exit with a coffee and pretend to wonder what he’s doing with yet another woman; only for the two girl’s to then reveal it was all a prank. This all happens in about forty five seconds, in which I had to actually rewind the movie to comprehend what just occurred. BELOW: Never would thought having this 90 second clip shared would lead me vacuuming down eight seasons of television Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A very cute couple Director: Boots Riley Writer: Boots Riley Cinematographer: Doug Emmett Producer: Nina Yang Bongiovi, Kelly Williams, Jonathan Duffy, Charles D. King, George Rush, and Forest Whitaker by Jon Cvack It’s April and I’m still working my way through the remaining 2018 films. I had first heard of this flick after seeing Blind Spotting and seeing that Sorry to Bother You was another Oakland-based film helmed by another black filmmaker and hiphop icon Boots Riley, a self-described democratic socialist who blended those ideas into a story of magical realism. It involves a job-seeking Cassius “Cash” Green (Lakeith Stanfield; who I’m excited to see a lot more from [I saw this before Uncut Gems (2019)]) who lives in his uncle’s garage and dates an artist Detroit (Tessa Thompson). He soon gets a position at a soul sucking telemarketing company, taking advice from his neighbor (Danny Glover) that if he uses a white man’s voice he could make better sales and make it up to the mysterious and enticing top “Power Caller” floor. The strategy proves a success, yet while Cash is gaining the attention of middle management, his co-workers are starting to assemble and push for a union. Cash agrees to help until he’s finally provided the Power Caller promotion, making it up to the top floor where he enters into huge sales and begins raking in more money than he’d ever dreamed of; quickly ditching his friends and their attempt to unionize Meanwhile, there’s another company called Worryfree which exchanges free labor for room and board in order to sell arms, led by CEO Steve Lift (Armie Hammer). Combined with the telemarketers, the two companies fight for workers rights as Cash moves further up the corporate and social ladder, soon invited to a infamous “Steve Lift Party” where Cash is pressured to freestyle in front of hundreds of people before they enter in an endless coke-filled orgy. Steve offers what looks like some coke to Cash who rips a line and then goes to pee where he takes a wrong turn and discovers a minotaur Jim Henson-level practical creature chained to the walls. By chance his phone records the creatures, leading him to tell the world, but between the vapid entertainment most people want and the labor riots, no one seems to care. By now he’s ditched the few friends he made at the telemarketing company; one of which sleeps with Detroit after her and Cash break up, Detroit is pissed that Cash has abandoned his friends (though, in fairness, he’s known them for about a week before his promotion occurs). Things come to a boil and the workers fight the police and while I appreciated the Marxist film, it felt as though it didn’t have the resources to fully pull off the world it wanted to create. The issue being that should the film seems to take place in an alternative universe, it presents a world that’s very much similar to our own; far too dependent on animating certain elements while leaving others the same. This is no fault of Boot Riley’s, as given the limitations, he’s able to create a vibrant film that pops off the screen. I would have liked to see how the culture and people of Oakland were struggling with gross unemployment and the choice whether to sell themselves into indentured servitude versus trying to find a low paying job such as a telemarketer. Everything else, from the company to Worryfree to Steve Lift’s universe and the monsters all felt like it took a real concept and amped it up. Perhaps that was the point, but it felt as though two realities were competing with each other rather than blending together. However, for a first feature, this might be one of the most exciting debuts to come out in years. BELOW: Interesting explainer on the film Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Could have been great Director: Jordan Peele Writer: Jordan Peele Cinematographer: Mike Gioulakis Producer: Jason Blum, Ian Cooper, Sean McKittrick, and Jordan Peele by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... The family separates, taking off in different directions as the male figure walks toward Gabriel who runs back inside, attempting to block the door as the two doppelgänger children find other ways into the house. Quickly we realize this this is the Wilson family’s doppelgänger; with a Red, her alleged husband Abraham, and their alleged children Umbrae and Pluto (all played by the same characters, which is actually surprising, as I would have sworn they weren’t; demonstrating the great skill of Peele and his cast). In an intense moment, as the eight characters sit around a fire, we hear Red speak as though being choked to death, revealing in cryptic fashion something about their origin, but all I remember is the cringey line about being Americans; which just felt so heavy and on the nose, that I was surprised “Still Processing”” didn’t at least poke fun at it, instead electing to praise it, and for reasons that, by necessity, also fell right on the nose and therefore cheapened a significant moment; one interpretation being that while the Wilson’s might have found success in life, the doppelgängers remain nearly invisible; the hosts recalling a beautiful W.B. Dubois quote about African Americans having to live in with two identities - that of Black America’s attempt to integrate itself within a White Culture while preserving and living the realities of what it means to be black in America. I don’t think “American” was the wrong word choice, so much as that a more cryptic idea about duality or identity could have worked to enforce this idea. The Wilson’s escape by boat, heading to their friends Kitty and Josh who are introduced inside a very expensive and ugly modern smart home. They have two daughters who’re also glued to their phones, and when Kitty thinks she hears a noise outside, demanding and soon shouting at Josh check it out, he gets up from his chair and we learn that they’re in fact only renting the monstrosity of the place; providing a subtle nod toward our expectations of ethnic stereotypes in cinema. For whatever reason I just assumed they were owners and I think it was this assumption that speaks volumes for even the most benign biases. Outside Josh discovers a family of four white people; all played by the same characters, who proceed to butcher the family in one of the most creative deaths I’ve seen in awhile; taking inspiration from one of my favorite recent home invasion films, The Strangers (2008) and specifically its use of "Mama Tried", with Peele instead making creative use of Amazon Alexa to initiate NWA’s Fuck the Police and provide a murder sequence score that we’ve rarely see in - again - the predominantly white sub-genre of home invasion films. The Wilson’s later arrive, finding their neighbor’s dead and turning on the television to provide that classic scene that every film replicates from Night of the Living Dead (1968), in which the characters gather around the television to see exactly what had been happening. They learn that throughout the world, there has been an uprising of people who are killing their above-Earth doppelgängers, then joining hands in some great link that’s meant to span across most of the globe. This of course doesn’t make sense, but the film has been so expertly executed and so finely crafted that while suspicious of how they could make sense of it all, I was confident that it’d make enough sense to pull if off. My confidence was all the more reinforced when the family attempts to take the Tyler’s car, with Zora demanding to drive and the dad cracking jokes, and while I wanted to think no character could possibly joke given what’s happening, they mostly bent just far enough to blend with the situation. Again, in “Still Processing”, the hosts mentioned the idea of having Gabriel be self-awarely playing the traditional role of the black character in predominantly white films - the person always cracking jokes and making light of the situation, serving to both comment on the situation and perhaps try and assist his kids in dealing with the situation; something the Scary Movie franchise satirized. They drive through the night and arrive back at the Santa Cruz boardwalk, finding Pluto standing in front of their old car which is engulfed in flames; with a small trail of gas heading in their direction. Pluto flicks a match, ready to light them up. Here was the first hiccup, as I couldn’t help but wonder 1) how a thin trail of gas would possibly endanger the Wilsons, as just because there’s something burning beneath my car doesn’t mean it's going to explode, or 2) how Jason then mimics the Pluto’s moves which somehow leads him to walk back into the flames and burn himself alive. At no point did I get the impression that these individuals are so easily controlled, let alone completely stupid, and I feared it was more in an effort to create a cinematic experience than abide by the story’s own logic. Thinking they’re officially out of the clear, Adelaide takes a walk back to the funhouse, entering, walking through to the back and down an escalator and suddenly discovering what looks to be an abandoned underground train station, where hundreds of bunny rabbits run in all directions. Knowing the answer was coming to a close, if not yet arrived, the alarms starting sounding off - there was no way this was getting tied up nicely. Adelaide then finds Red in a classroom, drawing on a board as dozens of open rabbit cages stand at the rear and we learn that the government had created the colony called the “Tethered” in order to control the public, but abandoned the experiment due to the dangers, and then trapped the people underground. As a result, they were left mimicking those they saw above them; namely, pretending they were on the Santa Cruz boardwalk and playing at the carnival. Logic exceeded high alert at this point, as again, having spent the whole film wondering what the hell was going on, with anticipation building all the more so with how expertly crafted the film was, I was left with an utter sense of disappointment. And for a film that was looking to be as good as Shyamalan's Signs (2002) or Unbreakable (2000); fell to dustbin of The Village (2004) and even flirted with The Happening (2008). We are expected to believe that a colony of people across the country were living in a bunch of underground tunnels; never escaping, yet somehow able to mimic the people at a theme park. Additionally, they were able to assemble themselves into perfect mirror images of families they had theoretically never met. And for at least thirty years (from the time young Adelaide encountered them), no one had ever seen them before; as in the case of the Santa Cruz boardwalk, no worker at the funhouse ever thought to go in the backroom and down an escalator where they would discover thousands of individuals. While the film carried out a strange dance sequence, the damage had been done. For as much as I could accept that some U.S. Government humanoid creation could have natural hunting and killing abilities, I could not accept that they’d never escape, or that they somehow communicated with each other across the country and world, or that no one would have ever discovered them. A friend asked what I would liked to see, to which I responded that such a question shook the film’s entire foundation. Again, most scary movies operate under a simple suspension of disbelief - there is something weird going on and we don’t know what, or there is a supernatural killer on the loose and we’re following the characters who battle against it. In Rosemary’s Baby (1968) we learn that it’s witchcraft, in Halloween (1978) and The Thing (1982) we root for for the main character to destroy the monster, in Scream (1996) we want to know who the killer is, in The Exorcist (1973) we want to know how to triumph over an actual product of Satan, in The Shining (1980), we want to see if the family can escape the haunted hotel. Similar to my thoughts on What Lies Beneath (2000), Zemeckis’ Hitchcock/horror film hybrid, next to Identity (2003), is one of the most disappointing third acts of a movie compared to what precedes it. The problem is that what starts out in reality, then drifts into the supernatural, failing to ever reconcile the two worlds. There is the fun of not knowing what’s going on, expertly crafted and gluing you to the screen, and then reconciling that with some horror/psycho-thriller answer that just doesn’t provide the answer you’re looking for. Us is more a Hitchcockian thriller in structure than a horror film, and therefore it’s about answers; what Shyamalan and Hitchcock had accomplished with their best work. In the conversations I’ve had, I’m left with people telling me that it’s just something I have to accept. Yet for a film who’s entire purpose is geared toward both a cinematic experience and the satisfaction of an answer, I’m not sure how people can accept the latter. Us is a good film, and I’m sure I’ll turn back to it a few times in the future; hoping I missed something. Maybe I’ll even be able to accept the premise, but like most films that fail to provide a sufficient answer, I think it’s going to remain a film for those who simply want the journey, no matter where it leads. There’s enough in this film to unpack for years, and if anything, it makes me excited for what Peele comes up with next, hoping that with the same level of craft, he can tie it all up to make everyone happy. BELOW: Great scene 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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