 Only Spielberg could make blocking an office an absolute thrill Director: Steven Spielberg Writer: Steven Spielberg Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Steven Spielberg, Kristie Macosko Krieger, and Amy Pascal by Jon Cvack The documentary The Most Dangerous Man in America: Danielle Esberg and the Pentagon Papers had gained an Oscar Nomination back in 2009, making a big splash, offering prescient insight into a similar scandal that would again erupt a year later with Chelsea Manning’s intelligence dump to Wikileaks. Like Ellsberg’s leak, Manning's demonstrated how numerous drone strikes wengaging with the enemy took down innocent Iraqi civilians with some of the military operators laughing callously. This was in addition to over 750,00 documentaries about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, known as the Iraq and Afghanistan War Logs, demonstrating that the United States failed to report hundreds of cases of rape, torture, and abuse, along with a huge underestimation on the amount of civilian casualties. I recall it being a big deal when it happened, yet with Obama in office and his winding down of the war, and with his popularity still high, little was made of the revelations, even though they - from what I remembered - corroborated what we'd been long hearing about the war from the previous six years or so. It makes me wonder what the overall general reaction was to the Ellsberg leak at the time. The country had just gone through a terrible last few years, including a violent battle for civil rights along with the assassination of JFK, Robert Kennedy, MLK, Malcolm X, and Fred Hampton. I wonder if it was similar to our current period, with each week functioning like a reality show/soap opera, in which I find myself anxious for what’s about to happen next, certain that it couldn’t possibly get any worse. It drowns otherwise huge scandals - everything from the Stormy Daniels payoff to Scott Pruitt’s overhauling of the EPA, or that most major government agency positions remain empty and what that means for National Security. For those unfamiliar with the story, Martine veteran Daniel Ellsberg was working at the private Rand Corporation security firm where researches wrote mountains of reports on the state of the Vietnam War, relying on hard data as ordered by Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. It demonstrated that - in grossly simplistic terms - each president since John F. Kennedy to LBJ and then Nixon had known that the war couldn't be won, all while continuing to escalate troop strength, drafting nearly 650,000 young men, and claiming 58,220 lives. Each year I age this becomes all the more terrifying and infuriating. To think the average age was 19 years old truly paints my heart to consider, claiming lives which had only their foot in adulthood, forced to grow up with death all around them. I wish such a view didn’t remain a left/right issue, but as my uncle and Vietnam Marine veteran said when asked about Ken Burns’ movie and the horrors it presented, it's all liberal revisionism. I understand the sentiment. His unit was hit particularly hard, with two books written by John J. Culbertson about his platoon - "A Sniper in Arizona" and "Operation Tuscaloosa"; both offering terrifying accounts. To have to accept it was all for nothing seems like a difficult pill to swallow for those who gave so much. Ellsberg leaked the intelligence documents to the New York Times who was instructed by the Nixon administration to cease from publishing any further stories, allegedly it infringed on their first amendment rights. The Washington Post then received the same intelligence documents, creating another legal battle against the United States government. I had just finished the documentary Spielberg (2017) a few days prior, which highlighted how resistant critics were to regarding him as an artist due to the first decade of his career dominated by wildly successful and popular films. It was with The Color Purple (1985) that he showed off his “artistic” craft, though remained accused of sentimentalizing the source material. I find the whole debate absurd, as Jaws (1975) alone contains more insight and higher craft than most Best Picture nominees. The purpose of cinema is to transport you, and whether you're left feeling excited, bummed it's over, or an urge to talk about the ideas explored (ideally all three) films that provide any individual trait have accomplished what the art form demands. I wasn’t necessarily excited to see The Post, as I felt The Pentagon Papers had been discussed ad nauseum since the documentary's release, even being adapted into a narrative back in 2003 with James Spader (I don’t believe I’ve seen this, though it sounds familiar). I was picturing a story that would focus on the man and his trial, rehashing what has been told countless times before. I should have assumed the title indicated otherwise. The story focuses primarily on two individuals - Washington Post owner Katharine Graham (Meryl Streep) as one of the few women newspaper owners in the world, who fell into the position after her husband died. Her editor in chief is the renegade and former government employee Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks) who wants to get the paper away from covering Nixon’s daughter’s wedding and other social gossip, and into revealing the truth behind the Vietnam war. Katharine Graham is days away from taking her company public, requiring one final meeting with the bank and board of directors in order to secure the deal. She’s introduced rehearsing her speech to her lawyer and friend Fritz Beebe (Tracy Letts) who gives her a few tips. Later at the meeting we see that Katherine is the one woman amongst at least a dozen and a half white men who wish to talk business; ideas that she hadn’t yet learned or considered before her husband’s death. When it’s her turn to speak, she freezes up and Fritz immediately cuts in. It’s here that the Spielberg touch shines, as we see an otherwise charming man who simply wants to help his friend. We then move onto the newsroom where I think I had some of the most fun at the movies in a long while. Spielberg and Kaminski shine as they move the camera around, shot in Panavision 70mm which transports us back in time. The film reminded me of the The Master(2012), as though Spielberg had much admired what PTA achieved and decided to turn the same style to a more specific and energetic environment. It’s here that I would point to Spielberg’s uncanny ability to block scenes as he follows characters up and down the newsroom, entering and exiting doors, adding an additional punch to the snappy dialogue which has characters talking over one another. Every frame is deliberate and maximizing information, framing characters perfectly so that even the smallest line uttered pulls your eye to someone you might have been lost in the extensive frame. In one shot, a package is delivered to a portly and timid reporter who looks inside, discovering something big. The camera follows him from his desk and into Ben’s office who’s having a meeting and waves him off, causing him to go to the Deputy Editor in Chief, who looks at the package and then leads the reporter into Ben’s office, where there are now five characters all perfectly balanced in frame, with the reporter explaining what happened while Ben and the others - including David Cross who fades away into his greatest role as reporter Howard Simons - all talking over one another, while Ben creates a plan of attack. It’s difficult to pull off deliberate steadicam shots that feel completely necessary. Spielberg has other long takes, but it was though he was saving the technique for when live time was required, and chaos demanded our eyes drift between the characters as though we were the intern in the room, listening. In another scene at Ben’s house, and in a much faster one take, we follow the characters as they walk in and out of the doors, talking to the lawyers in one room, sorting out the papers in another, all while Ben tries to manage the entire situation. It all achieved perhaps one of the greatest tests of great cinema: having to go the bathroom and holding it for a quieter moment, but the film is so great that you don't want to get up until you just can’t take it anymore. As crass as it might sound, consider how it incredible it is to respond to a movie like this; in which you’re willing to remain uncomfortable to see just another few images, as they’re simply that engaging. BELOW: Ellsberg on leaking in an age of Trump 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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 Director: Susan Lacy Cinematographer: Ed Marritz and Samuel Painter Producer: Susan Lacy, Jessica Levin, and Emma Pildes by Jon Cvack NOTE: This was written about eighteen months ago before I got onto a pretty good gig directing full time. Before starting this blog, I wrote on movies for about a year and a half both out of embarrassment to put up anything. It created a backlog that's about eighteen months old from when I watched the film. It’s been a slow January, which is what I expected after a freak professional accident offset plans I had for continuing work on what began as a YouTube series, evolved toward a documentary, and then crashed and burned through a simple and stupid mistake. I can’t go into the details, other than to say it was an interesting, and at times, uneasy month and change. Although I’ve gone through it before, there’s something about freelance that prevents me from ever being comfortable; where no matter how much money was made or great of a project, and all the other projects before which led to that, I become convinced I’ll never work again. I once ran into a guy I went to school with on a train from Chicago in the middle of the night who was a political consultant, bouncing from campaign to campaign, and expressing the same discomfort. One of the grim realities I discovered with Road to the Well (2016) was that none of the people on the festival circuit have made many gains from their success. One friend of mine is approaching 40, living with his parents, trying to pay off the debts of his third feature film. All of us had faith in the idea of becoming the next 20-something indie filmmakers from the middle of nowhere who made a low budget feature that opened up the gates. What most of us somehow failed to grasp are the literally thousands of others whose films didn’t get into Sundance, or any top film festival, or couldn’t make it through post production because they didn’t have the money. The Onion articles are almost too easy to see - Filmmaker Living in Parents’ Basement, Hopeful his Fourth Micro Budget Neo-Noir Thriller Will be Festival Hit. The common criticism is that we should have just made something better, or at least have had a face in our projects; the former being ambiguous enough to be meaningless, and the latter being a matter of money and patience. Or my personal favorite being that, “It was always tough,” as though everything is the exact same in a world where no one buys DVDs, goes to the movies, and video games, new media, and television are at an all time popularity. A little over ten years ago, Sundance received about three to four thousand submissions. The year we submitted they said they received over 13,000 submissions. It’s objectively harder to get noticed, with a bar of quality being raised higher than most middle to lower close filmmakers are capable of achieving when scraping together a hundred thousand dollars or so. Even Sean Baker, while shooting Tangerine (2015) on iPhones, still had a $100,000 budget and he had made four features beforehand. He came up through that golden 90s period, and while I’m sure he’d say it was hard, again I know of at least two films that I believe should be far more successful than mine. My one friend’s Dependence Day (2016) is a raunchy mumblecore comedy, which at the very least, matches the quality of Swanberg, West, and others, and yet has had an underwhelming release, which isn’t to say it won 't one day blow up, so much as I’m surprised that even he, who made the most commercially competitive film, didn’t find the success I was anticipating. I had heard about Spielberg from a couple close friends, both who mentioned a scene specifically, in which Spielberg, George Lucas, Brian de Palma, Martin Scorsese, and Francis Ford Coppola would all hang out, critiquing each other’s work, creating a magical competitive spirit which would go onto produce some of America’s finest films. It’s a beautiful moment that makes me wonder if we’re all too late; that if it was simply a different time; that we all missed it by just a hair, and we’re all chasing something that’s becoming increasingly difficult, if not next to impossible. Watching Ken Burns Baseball (1994) the subjects often mention the magical feeling of going to the field, seeing a person just like you making a living playing such a seemingly simple game. They were able to watch their heroes stand in the field, waiting for their moment to perform, failing most of the time, and succeeding when it mattered. Ever since I’ve begun seeing filmmakers in the same way; that people like Scorsese, Coppola, de Palma, Paul Thomas Anderson, Tarantino, etc. all have the ability to make up stories and then go off to create them is one of the most magical ideas I can fathom. Making a film was the greatest professional/creative/personal experience I’ve ever had. For the first time in my life it felt as though I was doing exactly what I was made to do and what I had spent most of my adult life planning for. To accept that the vast majority of first time filmmakers will never go on to make another film is a difficult pill to swallow. Spielberg opens by discussing Lawrence of Arabia (1962) and the way in which the film completely transported him as he witnessed craftsmanship of the highest order creating a perfect piece of art. I haven’t returned to Lawrence of Arabia since I first worked through the AFI’s Top 100 and so while I don’t share his enthusiasm, if I could point to any one film that changed my life and perception of cinema as a profession rather than interest it’d be Jaws (1975). Like most great filmmakers (and as portrayed in the film), it’s Spielberg’s passion for cinema that indicates why he’s such a fantastic filmmaker. He had grown up Arizona, with his dad moving out after his mom had an affair, causing Stephen to increasingly turn to cinema to get his mind off the situation. He mentions how it was never the finished product that offered satisfaction but rather the process of filmmaking - solving problems, and trying your hardest to work a little to create as much as possible. In terms of my own experience on an ultra low budget picture and my current directing gig on Solve, I can 14 hour days never fly by faster than on set, as we were battling the clock and elements. What you discover is that the fun is as much in the problem solving as witnessing the film in your head come to life, as the latter rarely arrives. There isn’t a serious filmmaker in the world who doesn’t know the story of Spielberg taking the Universal Backlot tour, sneaking off the tram and finding an office where he pretended to work for weeks until one of the execs noticed and brought him in as one of the youngest television directors on the lot. He was only 20 years old. After a string of successful television episodes, proving that he had what it took, he was offered to direct his first feature at age 24 or 25 - the ABC television movie Duel (1971). Its success then led him to direct Jaws at only 29 or 30 years old. Being 31, I’m increasingly blown away that a first studio movie made for $50 million (adjusted for inflation), going 100 days over its 55 day schedule, merging high craftsmanship with popular storytelling, still regarded as one of the finest creature features ever made (let alone greatest films), was made by someone years younger than me. It’s here that I don’t resent what he achieved, as to this day I don’t think there’s been another filmmaker like him, who’s able to combine incredible craft and insight with accessibility, enough to please both cinephiles and mainstream audiences. Off the top of my head only Hitchcock or Billy Wilder could take such a position. Spielberg is in an anomaly; a person who was able to work his way through the complex Hollywood labyrinth at an early enough age to develop his craft that would lead to such a meteoric ride. The documentary goes on to explore some of his films, and while I’d like to say his most noteworthy, it leaves some out or offers only tangential thoughts (Hook (1991), Saving Private Ryan (1998)) while digging deeper into those most could care less about (Minority Report (2002), The War of the Worlds (2005)). The film could have easily been a four part series, going through each film one by one, offering us all of the trivia and anecdotes that filled each production (the development of Indiana Jones with George Lucas; the production of Saving Private Ryan; working with Robin Williams and how they developed the character; and so on). Nevertheless, it was fascinating to watch his evolution as a filmmaker, moving on from his more popular subject matter before finally showing up critics by turning to more serious content. I watched The Post (2017) while working on this essay, which was absolutely incredible; and while I’m waiting for my hype to die down, it could be one of his finest dramas. It’s a return to his ability to show rather than tell, following and blocking characters with high energy. Unfortunately, his biggest weakness is having too strong a dependence on VFX in his latter career, in which films like Minority Report, AI (2001), The War of the Worlds, and The Crystal Skull (2008) all lose that Spielberg touch in teasing audiences with information, and instead showing them outright. Having returned to the original Indiana Jones trilogy, you need look no further than The Last Crusade (1989) or The Temple of Doom (1984) to understand this point. It’s tangible and exciting, and exactly what cinema is about. That a person like Spielberg could exist - who in his own words “dreams for a living” - in which amidst the ugliness of big money can go on to create some of the finest works of art of the past fifty years is one of the most beautiful ideas I can think of when it comes to modern art. What bums me out is wondering about all those kids on the downside of privilege who will never have the opportunity. I often wonder how many have been arrested or kicked out for trying to replicate his story of sneaking off the tram. Now most colleges of film or media production programs, with equipment so cheap that anyone can make a movie, with studios risk adverse, relying on the independent companies to filter out talent, who rely on film festivals to scout out talent, who require the filmmakers themselves to make their own art, and compete with tens of thousands of others on a playing field that is anything but equal. The top film programs have their own networks, and in a industry where money often buys solutions, it’s the middle and lower classes that can’t compete with the wealthy. Watching Spielberg you realize how miraculous it is for a person like him to exist and how precious his art truly is; when someone who loved it most who make it to the top. BELOW: I had probably seen this movie over a dozen times before I realized this is a single take. It's the epitome of immersion Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Armie and Chalamet were built to play characters from the 80s Director: Luca Guadagnino Writer: James Ivory; Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman Cinematographer: Sayombhu Mukdeeprom Producer: Peter Spears, Luca Guadagnino, Emilie Georges, Rodrigo Teixeira, Marco Morabito, James Ivory, and Howard Rosenman by Jon Cvack Every year there’re those one or two films that provide a flawless experience. I could argue why other films seem misplaced on the Year’s Best, but ultimately, when it comes to a certain caliber of filmmaking, it all depends on taste.* Everyone hopes to achieve this feeling with each new piece of art; that’ll it be a favorite of the year, or - even better - one of the best of the decade, or - even better - the greatest movie ever made. It rarely occurs, but when it does, it leaves you with that lingering inexplicable feeling which can last weeks. Call Me By Your Name has been labeled a "Gay Love Story", but it’s arguably one of the greatest love stories ever made; breaking down the division between gay and straight cinema once and for all. Brokeback Mountain (2005) was the first time I ever saw a “Gay Love Story”, providing a pretty good and heartbreaking look at a long love affair between two cowboys, along with examining the very foundation of masculinity. I revisited the film a few years later and realized the power of story over topic, and how although Brokeback Mountain was a good movie with amazing performances, I never connected with the characters, as I’m neither a tough guy or a cowboy and thus the rugged masculinity was something I struggled to relate to. The same issue occurred with Moonlight (2016), which while a very good movie, still felt as though something was missing from the affair; essentially exploring similar ideas as Brokeback, except focused on urban rather than rural America. In such an environment, hyper masculinity thrives, in which those with the most courage (expressed through violence) gain respect, dividing real from fake men, leading us to assume homosexuality can't possibly work within such a toxic world. Barry Jenkins flips these assumptions on their head, though unfortunately, the love story between Chiron and Kevin, while ending beautifully, ignores the initial spark between young lovers. Teenage Chiron’s timid personality just didn’t off enough richness to forge as solid a bond with Kevin in youth. Ultimately, while both films came close, I never fully connected with the other set of characters, making me wonder if it was because they were "Gay Love Stories" and I was only looking for superficial reasons to convince myself otherwise; that is, did I like and not love these films because they unrelatable or because of some more systemic reason. I knew Call Me By Your Name was a similar story, though not knowing the acclaim it would receive, I watched the preview, seeing what looked like an absolutely gorgeous film. Soon it was positioned at the top of most critics lists, and having loved Timothée Chalamet in Ladybird (2017), I rushed to see it before it left theaters. It opens up in the 1980s in an Italian countryside during the summer, at a cottage which is surrounded by apricot trees, rented by an archaeology professor Mr. Pearlman (Michael Stuhlbarg), his wife Annella (Amira Casar), and their 17-year old son Elio (Chalamet) who spends his days with his headphones on, listening to piano, transcribing the music, broken up by flying through books and hanging out with some of the local girls. Mr. Perl and Annela have selected a new graduate student Oliver (Armie Hammer) to join them for their summer internship and help with some research. I was a bit turned off by Hammer, initially. I haven’t seen him since The Social Network (2010) where he created one of the most bro-y characters I’ve ever watched. He maintains a similar confidence and attitude in this film, and yet provides an additional layer of complexity which doesn’t necessarily forgive or excuse what he does, but creates enough dimension in the character to create of the greatest romantic duos to ever grace the screen (or so I expect). We follow the characters as it moves from resentment on Elio’s end (having to give up his room and deal with Oliver’s bro-yness) and Oliver's complete indifference to subtle touches and innocent flirtation to the first kiss and all of the passion it brings. Most people I know have experienced a heart crushing love, falling into obsession as desire takes complete control of your mind and body, and all else takes a back seat. If it was you, you were fine with, and if it was your friend, you were pissed. In my own experience I simply remember the sheer elation in finally getting to be intimate for the first time with someone I cared deeply about; a feeling unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. As quick as it arrives the first problem occurs - there’s a fight one night, more follow, and soon the break up arrives, and whether a clean break or dragging on for months after that, all you end up with is chasing that initial seemingly perfect feeling which was not at all perfect. Call Me By Your Name captures this specific moment in time, in which everything from the production design to photography to characters to setting add up to create a world so vivid that anyone - old or young, gay or straight, bigoted or not - could connect to what Elio was experiencing, or at least anyone who’s gone through a similar coming of age moment. When I think back to my first love I recall the initial conversations we had through AIM, not knowing who she was, then meeting her and thinking she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen; in disbelief that someone like that could like me. From there, it quickly descended into a long, chaotic mess, extending across years worth of time. The details are some of the most embarrassing moments of my life, from accepting the way she acted for so long and for how I acted myself, all while maintaining the hope that things could return to that first moment. Many people have similar experiences with love - and with only a cliche to suffice - they too have blinders on as the relationship becomes unsustainable; scared that they’ll never find another person ever again, never able to grasp all of the glaring fundamental problems until years later. When I look back at my first, I can laugh and cringe at how naive I was, while respecting how powerful those feelings were. The greatest Coming of Age stories create distinct atmosphere. When I think of the best, it’s often Stand by Me (1986), My Girl (1991), and Now and Then’s (1995) ability to take you back to childhood summers, before you and your friends had to work; in which the town was the entire world, creating a desire for adventure; often involving a mystery that needs to be solved and inspiring thousands of kids all over the world to go and discover the difference between fantasy and reality. Call Me By Your Name isn’t as extreme in plot, yet the mystery remains just as prominent. How will these two characters pull off a romance in such an intimate setting? Set in an old beautiful house with a labyrinth of corridors and gardens, leading to pools and ponds and open laws, with guests, friends, and family everywhere. I could feel the heat of the sun, offering that perfect temperature that allows you to remain outdoors for hours. With its vibrant color, it moves beyond a look and actually feels idyllic. Everyone seems relaxed, down to the apricot juice to cool them off and chilled wine later in the evening. We watch as Oliver first offers an innocuous touch during the volleyball game as Elio cramps up, with his latest and very pretty female prospect Marzia (Esther Garrel) watching on, not suspecting anything, and slowly things intensify, culminating in one of the best shots this year, as Oliver and Elio stop in front of some statue, with Elio explaining its meaning, the camera then revealing it as a WWI memorial. They walk around it and toward the post office, arriving at the precipice of their desire. The first kiss follows shortly after. After writing a short thought blurb on Facebook, I had one person say Oliver was a predator. I never even thought about the situation. I wondered what the age of consent would be in Italy at the time, but it was a fleeting thought, quickly outweighed by Elio’s maturity and insight, though never becoming a full adult. There’s an immaturity to his view of the world which only experience could fill, which takes me back to what I said about first loves in that the passion simply overtakes you. For Elio it evolved to love, and for Oliver it was lust. One of the most powerful things about the film - never explicitly stated- is that no one in this film can be open about their sexuality. Being years older, and as hinted at throughout the story, Oliver understands the potential consequences, and having had to push his desires aside throughout all his life, mentioning his father who would freak and the woman he’s about to marry, I see a man whose guilt prevented him from ever even considering coming out. The AIDS epidemic was right around the corner, which made the setting all the more tranquil; as though the calm before the storm, when Gay Rights would charge to the forefront of debate. Concealment runs throughout the story, extending to Mr. Perlman who also offers subtle gestures toward his own sexuality before the final reveal at the end. In mild ways I wish he didn’t even give such an extensive speech at the end of the film, as with the hints scattered throughout the story, his point could have gotten across with half the specificity. And yet the speech dwells in my mind, in which we see how all these characters are connected - to the father who was unable to do anything about his sexuality or even experience the same beautiful opportunity, instead opting for tradition, which produced Elio who gets to experience the wonder of lust and love. Oliver understands the dangers, willing to follow his instincts while balancing a more traditional relationship. All of them demands their secrets are kept, described and shown in a way that is absolutely heartbreaking. The film hardly even touches on politics, and yet if there was a bridge that could unite audiences, I think this film could accomplish it. I struggle to think of a romantic film that produced such empathy, creating a waterfall of nostalgia and beauty, creating a story I think could be remembered as one of the finest lover stories ever made. BELOW: A magnficiently complex oner Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Whose darkest hour? Director: Joe Wright Writer: Alex von Tunzelmann Cinematographer: Bruno Delbonnel Producer: Tim Bevan, Lisa Bruce, Eric Fellner, Anthony McCarten, and Douglas Urbanski by Jon Cvack It’s gotten to the point where I always count on at least one British biopic per year that will abide by the same exact formula - a famous figure deals with a seemingly insurmountable task, reaching the very brink of hopelessness and then overcoming it; appearing to originate with 2006’s The Queen, switching out the matriarch with 2010’s sleepy Best Picture winner The King’s Speech, somehow drifting into even duller territory with 2014’s The Theory of Everything (which I’m still in shock for having basically ignored every single one of Stephen Hawking’s world changing discoveries). For this reason, I had no intention of seeing Darkest Hour, as with it being an absolutely fantastic year for cinema, there was just too much to see in theaters, having also noticed that this film was bouncing out of theaters left and right. Between Call Me By Your Name (2017) and this, I looked up the trailer, figuring if pressed, Call Me By Your Name’s theatrical run would last longer. I then saw that Joe Wright had directed it. I’ve loved most of what he’s done, not yet having seen Pan (2015) or The Soloist (2009), but loving Atonement (2007), and especially his Pride & Prejudice (2005) and Anna Karenina (2012) adaptations. Similar to David Lean, he has an ability to take older material and provide a fresh and fascinating view. Seeing him in the chair for Darkest Hour - as generic as the story seemed to be; exploring Winston Churchill in this case - it’d at least be a very pretty movie to look at. Gary Oldman’s performance was the first celebrated piece of the film, and it's truly stunning. I was certain I’d at least be somewhat distracted by the fat suit for awhile, in awe of how great it looked, and yet within moments I was taken away. I did not see the suit anymore than Gary Oldman. It was watching the unique portrait of one of the most esteemed leaders of the 20th century, along with many of his foibles. Similar to Downfall (2004), he’s introduced via his new secretary Elizabeth Layton (Lily James) who immediately meets his temper as he attempts to dictate a letter, with Elizabeth unable to keep up. She sticks around and joins Churchill from becoming prime minister and down into the underground bunker where he conducts the war. The film opens up in the raucous Parliament with a bird’s eye view, as the members demand the resignation of liberal Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain in favor of a conservative leader. The camera drops down into close up as they narrow down the choices to Winston Churchill and Edward Woof of Halifax (I thought his name was Halifax, but the actual title is Edward Wood, 1st Earl of Halifax, so I’ll just go with Halifax). The members agree on electing Churchill who then has to go and meet King George VI (Ben Mendelsohn; who was killing me in trying to remember what I’ve seen him in; strange enough, it was Place Beyond the Pines (2012) of all films, where he plays the redneck mechanic). The King and Churchill don’t get along due to some reason I’m not entirely sure of and can’t seem to find by my cursory Wikipedia dive, but seems to involve a comment made about the king, with the King admitting that Churchill wouldn’t have been his first choice. I wish this movie came out before Dunkirk (2017), as there couldn’t be a better film to help people understand (myself included) what actually happened on the beach. As an American, I always thought it was some epic battle by the likes of our D-Day when it was actually the complete opposite, as with Roosevelt keeping America isolated and out of WWII, Hitler ravaged through Europe in blitzkrieg fashion, with the French soon surrendering and the British looking to be next to fall. Many on the Left, fearing a horrible slaughter if they were to continue, opted for a peace settlement, figuring that they could find a compromise with the Axis. Churchill and the conservatives wanted to keep fighting, and soon the vast majority of the British Army, approximately 300,000 troops, were stranded across the English Channel on the beach of Dunkirk, with the British having limited water or air support to rescue them. German Luftwaffe patrolled the skies and it was a matter of days before the Nazis closed in, demanding they settle in peace or that they’d continue the slaughter. It was truly a hopeless situation, with all signs pointing to surrender. Knowing any of this would have completely changed my experience of Dunkirk (at least the first third where I had no idea what was going on). In one funny scene, Churchill calls Roosevelt, asking - nearly begging - for the planes that they had purchased from the Americans, to which Roosevelt refers to the Neutrality Agreement he had to honor (not yet being in the war), preventing the states from sending the planes. He then suggests that Churchill bring some horses to the American/Canadian border where he can drag the planes across without breaking the law, for a reason not entirely clear. It’s an absurd idea which would take weeks to achieve when Churchill only had days, though also serves as a great version of Historical relativism, in which we think Roosevelt was this grand hero the whole time during WWII, when in fact, he has rather powerless in assisting countries until the Pearl Harbor attack. With the exception of Daniel Day Lewis or Philip Seymour Hoffman, I struggle to recall a better example of an actor falling further into an historical figure; as it takes only minutes before his presence fades and it truly feels as though we’re watching the actual Churchill, or at least the portrait created by all I’ve ever learned about the man. I struggle to think of what it is I didn’t like about this film, as counter to most biopics it picks a specific moment, offering a fascinating look into an incredible event, and yet, by containing a structure that’s applied to so many similar, yet far more superficial films, it never feels as fully realized as Wright’s other work. His birds eye views worked on occasion, and other time times felt like expensive VFX when a more intimate portrait of the men on the ground could have benefited. Allegedly there’s a supercut of the Dunkirk and this film, which the more I think about, the more amazing I think it could be. Given the situation, the reluctance to show the troops in a more intimate fashion made the story feel disconnected; at times as though Churchill was concerned more about proving his enemies wrong and himself right. Given what the battle scenes accomplished in Atonement, I was left wanting to see the same for Darkest Hour, with the story falling far too heavily on the character over the situation. The darkest hour wasn’t Churchill having to head to the war room after his English breakfast, served with fresh orange juice and champagne, capped off with his classic cigar. It was after fighting to defeat, waiting on the beach, unsure if their government would ever come to their rescue. BELOW: For all the Iron Maiden fans out there Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Every writer has a wall Director: Erik Nelson Producer: Erik Nelson and Amy Briamonte by Jon Cvack Before putting this on, it was one of those rare nights where I wasn’t in the mood for anything, switching off Mindhunter as it was far too dark for my mood, trying The Toys That Made Us which was far too bright, and settling on this film which had a pretty high rating and sounded like a solid enough story. I then saw Werner Herzog’s producing credit and thanked the movie gods as this is one of the strangest true crime documentaries I’ve ever seen. The story’s focused primarily on aspiring filmmaker and former Iraq veteran David Crowley who’s introduced as knee deep in a feature film he’s making which is essentially an Alex Jones-inspired dystopia set in present day. The poster (which is actually pretty cool) describes it all, featuring a person fully decked in tactical assault gear, his back turned toward camera, FEMA written where we’d usually see SWAT. We’re never positive what the movie is exactly about so much as that the Big Government most conspiracy theorists fear has finally turned on the people and is now carrying out a brutal massacre. During the film’s development, a deeply disturbed David Crowley would go on to kill his wife and child, writing “Allahu Akbar” in blood on the wall of his home where he carried out the murder. One of the earliest images that lingers in your mind is when the 20-something David Crowley shows us dozens of pieces of paper glued to his wall; outlining his script with colored tabs all hanging about, with pieces of stringing connecting each one. I once had a similar, though far less ornate set up in my room, having written an early Road to the Well (2016) draft in a notebook, and then removing those pages and gluing them to my wall. There’s a feeling of seriousness to the act; as though what you’re working on is no longer an abstract idea, but an evolving and actual thing. In other ways it’s simply a way to show off; to make what you’re working seem more complicated or difficult than others might assume. Watching David present his wall of ornate notes, listing off all of the screenwriting how to book terms in lightening order, we quickly learn that none of his film’s story really makes all that much sense; as it was much more about David wanting to convey his genius to the world than about writing a good story. What catches your eye is that the design looks like a cheap recreation from a film - as though something you’d see The Number 23 (2007) or an equally “heavy” paranoid thriller that fails to actualize its high concept. David Crowley had served two tours of duty in Iraq, and while we never know what he ultimately saw, we do know that he was forced into his second tour, not wanting to return, and that upon returning, he was dealing with severe mental problems. Gray State is enough of a success story to make any aspiring filmmaker envious, as even though he was living in Ohio at the time, David developed a teaser trailer that soon attracted Alex Jones fans, even getting an Alex Jones social media shout out which blew up their crowdfunding campaign, raising over sixty thousand dollars for David Crowley to write and develop the screenplay; though it did leave me a bit confused, as though we see a bunch of production work, I’m not sure if this was all for the teaser, or stuff he actually shot in the hope of attracting additional investors. I assume the latter, as he does in fact, make it out to Hollywood and attracts investor interest after committing his murder-suicide. The movie’s one fault is that it occasionally takes a more sensationalist position to the story, drifting a bit too close to true crime as entertainment rather than respecting the victim and their friends and family. As a result, it’s difficult to understand exactly what might have happened to David, other than that, in dealing with his severe mental trauma from the war, he began developing paranoia about the government, drifting toward Alex Jones and alt-right conspiracy theories. After marrying his wife and having their first child, he began talking to his friends less and less, allegedly commanding his wife to become increasingly isolated as well, which worried her friends. Coincidentally, the New York Times just released a disturbing story about another impressionable 20-something man who got sucked into an alt-right YouTube rabbit hole What begins as a mystery about how making the film connected to the murder quickly became more about a man’s decaying mind, once finding solace in creativity and conspiracy communities, before finally snapping. It’s this final step which I felt too little time was spent. The filmmaker suggests we will never know what happened, as when asking a researcher about the Allahu Ackbar quote, he says David likely deliberately planted it there to create a cryptic conclusion. To think that this guy could have had his wildest dreams and that it wasn’t enough - that his mind was so broken that it resulted in this tragic and heartbreaking conclusion - paints a bleak picture of humanity. There isn’t always a reason for events of this sort, and it was David’s obsession with countering this fact that helps to prove the premise. It’s not a perfect movie, but for any fan of true crime, you will not be disappointed. BELOW: David Crowley's concept trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the few redeeming features Director: Rian Johnson Writer: Rian Johnson Cinematographer: Steve Yedlin Producer: Kathleen Kennedy and Ram Bergman by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Admittedly, the first thirty minutes of this movie are pretty good. It started with a strong space battle sequence; arguably the best since Eps IV-VI; not at all feeling as though it was trying to steal elements from what had already worked. I was digging Rey’s journey to Luke, with Luke offering possibly the second best performance of the film, even with the hackneyed plot of being The Old Wizard Who Retired into the Woods. Counter to some, I enjoyed the breast milking scenes and the little Porgs that looked cheap with their puppetry, as it was honoring what Lucas originally created. I immediately resented Finn and Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) as Rose was perhaps the most boring character of any movie in the entire series; lacking even an iota of dimension. Still, it was forgivable and it was all looking up, as though the movie I had been waiting for since The Phantom Menace (1999). And then Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) failed to fire his Proton Torpedoes to destroy the rebels, leading the other Tie Fighters to launch theirs, which hit the brig where Princess Leia is stationed, and as the explosion incinerates everyone around her, sucking her out to space where she appeared dead, I was thinking - given Carrie Fisher's passing - this was the greatest way to end a character. Except, turns out, she wasn’t dead. I can’t begin to express the physical reaction my body had, as when Carrie Fisher somehow opened her eyes in negative 500 degree Fahrenheit space and raise her fingers, using the force - which she had never been used in this way before - to pull herself back into the ship, I thought it might have been a joke; that maybe, as little sense as it would make, Luke was dreaming about this moment. It’s been nearly a week since I’ve seen the film and I still do not understand why in the world they would have this happen. It is such a ridiculous and absurd moment, not just in the Star Wars canon, but in all of popular action cinema, that I immediately knew it was over. I had 90 minutes left of viewing and if this was allowed to happen then there would be other issues as well. Leia’s literally unbelievable escape set the precedent for the series, and the rules and laws which govern it; that is, to do whatever it wants. Defenders of this scenes were eerily similar to Trump’s Red Hats demanding NFL players stand to honor our troops, then ignoring Trump's endless derision for John McCain. It never gets as bad, but seemingly countless moments reach the precipice. BB-8 progresses from a droid and into a Jar Jar Binks-like character, not acting as the deus ex machina just once, but at least two times, once using coins he assembled from a casino to shoot down stormtroopers (because people thought he was a gambling machine - as though they’ve never seen a droid which is one of the most ubiquitous devices in the entire world), and the next functioning straight out of Rocky and Bullwinkle, in which Fin is certainly going to die under an AT-ST where a grenade launcher blows up the cabin just in time, not at all hurting BB-8, who then uses wires to march the machine to a ship they can steal. Although Rey only meditates and finds herself falling into a black hole, along with twirling a spear around and chopping a lightsaber with a rock, she develops the skills of a veteran Jedi within maybe a day or two, capable of fighting Snoke who’s a veteran Dark Jedi and moving a thousand tons of rock and boulders to save the rebels. This seems a victim of benevolent sexism in that she’s turned into an illogical figure where rather than watching her go through the intense training to become a Jedi, showing that women too can put with tremendous amounts of emotional and physical pain, they instead expedite her skills to avoid all that and make her as badass as fast as possible. Most illogically, aside from the Battlestar Galactica rip off is why The First Order, although only needing to wipe out these remaining 400 or so Rebels, prefers to shoot down the ships one by one rather than just destroying the lead transport. Why chase them through hyperspace and do anything other than slaughter them all, given how much firepower they had (not to mention the fact that the rebels always seem to win)? It makes the whole premise of the narrative silly and illogical, enough to make you question this entire plot. I haven’t even heard of a defense on this one, as even in Battlestar Galactica the Cylons knew to take out the Battlestar Galactica ship first. Finally, is the fact that Yoda’s ghost can now set trees on fire and hit Luke in the head with a cane, while Luke is able to meditate himself into a hologram, taking the original trilogy ghosts beyond a level of spiritual guidance, and in a direction that essentially allows writers to do anything. Why not just get killed if you can come back and do these types of things? Why didn’t other Jedi’s meditate themselves into fighting ghosts from the previous films if it’s such a powerful tool? Why not meditate themselves into the Death Star and destroy it that way rather than sacrificing all the Rebels? Again, the problem isn’t that it exists, it’s that it disregards - and disprects - all of the history that came prior. Even one of these problems could have made the film feel disconnected, though with over five major problems, it positions episodes VII-IX to be as removed from IV-VI as I-III. The thing that makes me furious is that there was no reason for these holes or ignorance to exist, and that’s where the feel of art by committee dominates the overall story. This is not a world that was imagined by a singular man, but created by people’s whose primary goal is to make as much money as possible, and no rules about ghosts or physics is going to stand in that way. That’s what gets me aggravated with the Star Wars fans. Similar to Trump supporters who don’t care that he criticizes the 1st Amendment for the country they love, Star Wars fans don’t care what people do with the story they love so long as it includes all of the bells and whistles. You’d think they’d be the ones most enraged; though at 50% on Rotten Tomatoes and from all of the discussions I’ve had, I think more might be coming around. BELOW: Arguably the stupidest thing I've ever been asked to accept in a popular film Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the most boring characters of the post Eps I-III canon Director: Rian Johnson Writer: Rian Johnson Cinematographer: Steve Yedlin Producer: Kathleen Kennedy and Ram Bergman by Jon Cvack Around the time of seeing this film, Logan Paul had released his NYE video of finding a dead body in the Japanese Aokigahara suicide forest, where him and his co-stars laugh it off, then making jokes, and enraging the entire social media community (while still gaining record numbers of subscribers). I wrote on Facebook that I believe Logan Paul is Donald Trump for kids, in the sense that he has the same anti-intellectual, knee jerk, trolling attitude found in our current president (though given that this is a year behind in getting published, we’ll see how that pans out [update: a year later and he seems to have leveled off in terms of attention). As Phil DeFranco said in his response, at the end of the day, his fans do not care what he does or says, and it appears there’s nothing he could actually do that would cause them to abandon him. Trump once said he could kill someone in the middle of Times Square and his supporters would remain by his side, and while he hasn’t got to that point, after all of the immoral and offensive things he’s done against nearly every type of person and institution, he’s still at a 90% approval rating amongst Republicans. At the time of this writing, just moments before giving a speech on D-Day, he sat in Arlington National cemetery and proceeded to castigate Pelosi, Schumer, Mueller, and all his other political enemies. Star Wars fans have a similar philosophy, as while this movie elects to abandon or illogically try to progress much of the Jedi mythology, the most diehard fans remain loyal, willing to ignore even basic reasoning in order to defend this thing that they somehow love unconditionally. I was hired to produce Twitter’s first live show when I learned about the Star Wars premiere episode, in which both director Rian Johnson and droid BB-8 came to our studio to reveal the poster. Being our first episode, uncertainty was high, as we didn’t know what could go wrong, let alone anticipate some problems. Although one of the most stressful twelve hours of my professional life, we had a successful debut, reaching a million viewers who were tuning in for the official poster reveal and a Daily Show-style interview between influencer Steve Zaragoza and BB-8, which was one of the best segments we did throughout the series. By that point I hadn’t watched the new Star Wars trailer, as even though I’ve grown to resent every single Star Movies since the IV-VI re-release back, the little kid in me preserves hope that it’ll return to Lucas’ original vision. Full disclosure: I haven’t yet seen Rogue One (2016), as I was so disappointed with The Force Awakens (2015) that I couldn’t ever muster up the energy to get to the theater, and am too confident that it’ll be a disappointing movie to watch it at home. I’m not excited to write this, as it requires an effort to defend my position which is that this movie and where the series appears to be going is simply stupid and uncreative. When I hear of all the exciting directors getting fired by Kathleen Kennedy due to “creative differences” it’s easy to see that the conversation has one authority. Disney has hired Kennedy to create the most successful product imaginable and that product must check all the boxes in being a high stakes narrative, with lots of action involving spaceship fights and lightsabers duels, including some type of grand narrative reversal or twist. The general seems to be that the canon George Lucas developed should be honored, but should never restrict achieving these goals. Thus far five filmmakers have been fired from the Star Wars series, and while I don’t think any of them have been as exciting as Rian Johnson or Ron Howard, the fact that even relatively tame voices were fired just goes to show how protected this property is. Watching the last two films I felt as though I was watching the result of a dozen marketing research people, a half a dozen Disney executives, Bob Iger and his team all dictating to Kennedy, Kasdan, and Johnson/Abrams exactly what to do. Neither film has felt at all inspired, with The Force Awakens being ostensibly a remake of a A New Hope and operating as a Battlestar Galactica ripoff/video game plot that abandons the mythology and takes logic far past the breaking point. I’m certain that any people who are either reading this or interested in this blog have seen the movie, so I won’t bother with a detail breakdown of the plot. Basically, there are two storylines. Rey (Daisy Ridley) visits Luke Skywalker on the island of Ahch-To where Luke’s chosen to abandon the world out of fear of training more people like Vader. Aboard a resistance fighter, we see that the Rebels are still battling the Imperial Army (now called The First Order) who are chasing them through space - even hyperspace - with a tracking device that Finn (John Boyega) attempts to destroy in a plot straight out of any MMO video game (complete with a graphic image that shows precisely where it is in the Star Destroyer), along with Poe (Oscar Isaac) who’s convinced that if they just fight back, they can destroy The First Order, rather than trying to escape. Of course, Luke resists getting back to training, later discovering Rey has a potential for darkness just like him; Finn runs into trouble after going to a casino set as though straight out episodes I-III and trusting a thief (Benicio del Toro; the movie’s best character); and after Leia’s accident, a new commander Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo (Laura Dern) takes over, with a strategy that looks eerily similar to a traitor, or so Poe believes. Stay tuned for part 2... BELOW: A scene straight out of episodes I-III Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  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  Gave a heck of an Oscar speech Director: Martin McDonagh Writer: Martin McDonagh Cinematographer: Ben Davis Producer: Graham Broadbent, Peter Czernin, and Martin McDonagh by Jon Cvack 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 |
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