 One of the best father/son dynamics of the decade Director: Trey Edward Shults Writer: Trey Edward Shults Cinematographer: Drew Daniels Producer: Kevin Turen, Jessica Row, and Trey Edward Shults by Jon Cvack My friend has been telling me to see this movie for weeks. Not knowing anything about it beyond that it was made by the director It Comes At Night (2017) in a fascinating shift. The moment he said Trent Reznor did the soundtrack, I was determined to find a screening on its last week. I’m halfway through Euphoria. Visually, it’s the most exciting show on television, but in terms of story, it plays like a jumped shark of any teen drama. The story is beyond belief, and while combined with the style, it helps capture an essence of high school, there’s so little in specific that I can relate to. Everything is to the extreme, creating a melodrama that’s less accessible. I knew nothing of Waves beyond it being a domestic drama, getting hints that something significant happens early on that sets the family on a particular path. We meet Tyler Williams (Kelvin Harrison Jr.) driving in a car with his girlfriend Alexis Lopez (Alexa Demie). The camera spins around in circles per the likes of Children of Men (2006), creating a tension that something was about to happen. They’re kissing, Tyler’s foot is out the window, and we wonder if they’re about to get in an accident; fall off the bridge, get hit by a car, lose control. And then the film cuts. We watch the pair in the Florida ocean, kissing in the water and playing in the sand. We flash back and find Tyler at wrestling practice, running the track where he sees his girlfriend who eyes him down and the two start seeing each other. The sequence is exactly what I was hoping Euphoria would be, leaning on a brilliant style and rhythm but never taking the story beyond reality. Terrence Malick is all over the film and while it’s a bit too obvious at points, I’m coming around to the idea that what Saving Private Ryan did for the war film, Malick did for using images to push a narrative and convey emotion. Back home we meet his father Ronald (Sterling K. Brown) who demands more than a single word answer when he asks how school went. Ronald is a demanding, though loving father; adhering his son to a strict workout regimen and pushing hard on academics. After experiencing discomfort in his shoulder, Tyler starts taking some of his father’s painkillers to numb the pain on occasion, later going to the doctor and learning that he has permanent damage in his tendon which could lead to an irreversible injury that should forever end his days of wrestling immediately. Tyler ignores the doctor’s advice and takes on the next match where in one of the most excruciating displays of pain I’ve ever seen, we watch his opponent take him down, sending a bolting shock of pain through his body. He loses the first match and goes again, again taken down, his arm dragged behind his body until the pain grows so severe he blacks out. He wakes up and reveals the truth to his parents, turning to pills and booze. He learns that Alexis is late, and failing to grasp what it means, parties more and more with his family. She reveals she’s pregnant. Vowing to do whatever he needs to do to support her, the scene cuts to them cruising to an abortion clinic, where in a fascinating sequence, the camera stays in the car, catching just glimpses of the protestors outside. We move in and the security guard introduces himself, warning of how extreme and vitriolic the protestors could be, and while we think it’s continued from outside, Alexis then enters the room and we realize she already had gone outside. They cruise off and Alexis reveals she couldn’t go through with it. Tyler tries to offer his support as the reality strikes him. It’s a brilliant portrayal of youth, in which the inability to handle such altering news causes both Tyler and Alexis to explode; each committed to their side and unleashing a tirade of insults and profanity as Alexis jumps out of the car and refuses to take a ride home. The pressure continues and Tyler further turns toward pills and alcohol, trying his best to return to working out. One night he returns home drunk, ending up puking on the bathroom floor where his sister finds him, worried that he’ll wake their parents. Things culminate in one of the most dramatic and realistic text scenes yet created as Tyler attempts to play nice guy to see if Alexis is going to keep the baby, cutting between nothing but his close up and the messages and yet providing a thrilling sequence as he loses all control, even over his ability to type lucidly before going on to destroy his entire bathroom. By now the movie’s chugging full steam ahead. Tyler has lost his girl who’s going to have his baby, can’t wrestle any longer and he turns further and further to booze and drugs. It’s here that the parallels between Euphoria and Waves is most apparent. Yet while Euphoria asks us to accept characters as they are, Waves show how characters become what they are. It’s of course melodramatic, but it captures a mood. Just today I read that millennials and subsequent generations are more depressed, anxious, and less healthy than Gen Xers. Waves’ plot itself isn’t all that unique, but the way in which it’s told is. The style isn’t as extreme as Euphoria and that’s what makes it work. Shults takes us through scenes by first focusing on what feels real rather than on what’s the most visually pleasing way to do it, and as a result, makes the film feel far more true to life. Things come to a head when Tyler follows Alexis going to prom on Instagram; pounding vodka and taking more pills while he watches alone in his room until he finally heads down to leave. He’s stopped by his step mom who he scolds until his father comes in who Tyler pushes down some steps and they kick him out. He heads off to the after party where in a brilliant and thrilling scene - as of this writing, the best of the year - where Tyler sneaks into the house and approaches Alexis, begging for forgiveness before he strikes her, causing her to collapse and crack her head open on the ground. Tyler takes off, heading back home, but quickly gets apprehended by the cops. He’s sentenced to life in jail. At two hours and fifteen minutes, I’m guessing this scene takes place at about 100 minutes in. Yet instead of allowing this climactic moment to end, the story continues on and fails to ever gain the same steam it had for the first two thirds. We then follow the sister Emily (Taylor Russell) who soon ends up with Tyler’s classmate Luke (Lucas Hedges) and they begin dating. We follow them on a similar journey, soon learning that Luke’s estranged dad is dying of cancer. The pair take ecstasy, later have sex, and appear to have a seemingly normal relationship. The film ends shortly after the pair visit Luke’s dad in the hospital which felt a bit jarring The first film that comes to mind is Place Beyond the Pines (2012) which takes a similar shift, in which I struggle to remember much from the second half and so much from the first. I’m left wondering what the reasoning was, as unfortunately, I kept experiencing that expectation that the film would end, only for it to keep on going for twenty more minutes. I’m sure another viewing is in order, as the connections could become more apparent, but Kelvin Harrison, Jr. is so good and his plot so riveting that it felt like this movie could have been near flawless if ended by the hour and forty five mark. It’s still an amazing piece of work, as even the hanging-chad has some beautiful moments, but it does show the danger in providing the climax just a third before the conclusion. BELOW: One of the best scenes of the year Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 They need another movie Director: James Mangold
Writer: Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth, and Jason Keller Cinematographer: Phedon Papamichael Producer: Peter Chernin, Jenno Topping, and James Mangold by Jon Cvack When Ford v Ferrari ended I was left nostalgic. The movie reminded me of the types of action and action-dramas I watched growing up - Apollo 13 (1995), Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000), fragments of Con Air (1997); the type of movie that took place within the realm of reality and not about blowing up as much shit as possible and puking out the most extravagant visual effects pieces possible (climax of Con Ari not withstanding). They’re all relatively small stories. Space capsules, cars driving around the city, a plane, a prison, and yet they all felt gigantic. In an interview during its screening at TIFF, James Mangold mentioned that in addition to the obvious, the story was about the creative process. There are the suits who represent the money given to a creative team to create a product and win a top prize. It’s not a stretch to say that this is one of the best movies I’ve seen about the process of making movies. The story involves the 1966 Le Man held yearly in France in which a team of drivers sponsored by the leading sports car manufacturers raced their designs for 24 hours straight. At this point in the story, Ferrari has won the previous three or four and back in the states, Ford Motor Company, led by Henry Ford II (Tracy Letts), is introduced years earlier by shutting down the assembly line and chastising his workers for failing to give enough passion. Vice President Lee Iacocca (Jon Bernthal) knows it’s because rather than attempting to create a sexy product competitive with burgeoning European sports cars, Ford has continued with bland and cheap designs that cater to the masses. Iacocca gives a presentation showing James Bond and his Aston Martin, explaining that the GI’s who’ve come home have gotten homes and found success and now want to spend their money on better toys. Ford and his worm-tongue sycophant executive Leo Beebe (Josh Lucas) laugh off the idea, refusing to sell by cars by using sex or power. Iacocca doesn’t back down. Ferrari has captured the world’s imagination. Again, they laugh, explaining that Ford spends as much on toilet paper as Ferrari spends on their entire fleet. Iacocca then tells them about their losses to Ferrari in the last few years of Le Man which captures Ford II’s attention. Having worked in production start ups for the last ten years I struggle to think of a better film that catches the condescending and pompous conservatism of business people. There’s an old phrase out in entertainment - to paraphrase, the easiest way to retain a job is to say no to big change or risky endeavors. When it comes to film - sequels, prequels, remakes, and bottomless franchises have dominated the space. As rogerebert.com’s Glenn Kelly says, “...a movie like ‘Ford v Ferrari’ would be a staple of studio fare. Nowadays, it’s actually considered a risk, despite being, by an older standard, about as mainstream as mainstream gets. ‘Ford v Ferrari’ delivers real cinema meat and potatoes. And its motor show spectacle deserves to be seen in a theater.” It all connects back to cinema. Ford could be seen as any of the major studios continuing to lean into franchises, averse to taking any type of risk. Then again the risk is actually high, as the number of original films within the same category which have failed is enough to make anyone cautious. Perhaps it’s not that studios are so risk-averse so much as waiting for the proper director to make it happen; such as Mangold did with Logan (creating one of the handful of MCU movies I enjoyed). It’s a demonstration of trust and it’s what makes Henry Ford II such an interesting character; he wants the profits but he also wants the respect and accolades. Just like any great studio head. Ford rejects the race, but instructs Iacocca to visit Italy and make Enzo Ferrari (Remo Girone) an offer to buy the company. Scuderia i surrounded by his own obsequious executives, one who secretly calls Fiat who counters with a far greater offer to buy Ferarri out. It was a con; Ferrari used Ford to up the bid. Humiliated, Ford agrees to race and win the Le Man, no matter the cost. Around all this, we meet Ken Miles (Christian Bale) as the sharp witted and irascible mechanic and race car driver with an endearing and beautiful wife Mollie (Caitriona Balfe) and equally charming kid Peter (Noah Jupe). He’s underwater with the IRS who soon swoop in and foreclose his business. I’m fairly certain this whole story was apocryphal, as it had that taste of a demand for extra stakes. It’s more interesting for Ken to race in order to provide for his family than just deciding to ignore his own safety. It’s also that type of scene that works in this type of film. If the point is to tell a great action-packed drama, then embellishing these details are for the greater good. Iacocca recruits Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) to build out the race car, who in a uniquely Matt Damon kind of monologue in which we’re not sure if he’s serious or bullshitting the other characters, he talks about how difficult it is to build a car and complete the race, let alone safely. Iacocca offers him a blank check and Matt Damon immediately hires Ken as the driver. There is a great majesty to how Mangold films these scenes, where even the smallest dialogue scenes feel large and part of a massive and exciting world. The colors are vibrant, of teals, whites, and salmons, often against a desert backdrop. The pace is fast, as when you see the movie is two and a half hours long, you wonder if it could maintain the story. Yet it immerses you within a tale of sport, business, mechanics, and philosophy where each scene rips you through the ideas. Arriving at a Ford event to kick off the challenge, Ken and his son find the newest mustang model as the public pines over it. Peter opens the door and checks inside and Leo Bebee demands he back up from the car, pissing off Ken who - not knowing the man - proceeds to state precisely why Mustang’s are just pretty ornaments disguising mediocre performance; a point I recall wondering about in the documentary A Faster Horse (2015); part history and part reality show as we watch Ford engineer’s design the next year’s Mustang model. One of the most fascinating moments is when all of the department heads get together in order to discuss how much power they can squeeze out of a small budget; again, comparable to a film production in attempting to create as good of product as they can within their limitations. Leo’s fractured ego demands he vindicate himself. After Ken demonstrates his skill, Leo takes Shelby aside, explaining that he needs to replace him, explaining that Ken doesn’t fit the image of Ford; that is, tall, built, charming, and American. Being the night before the race, Leo breaks the news. Crushed, Ken accepts like a gentleman, working in the garage throughout the next 24 hours, listening to the race on the radio. Ford loses big, and although it was Leo Bebee’s call he continues to move up the chain. In the film's best non-action scene, Shelby meets at Ford’s office, hanging outside and watching the team of his secretaries answering phones, responding to messages, and exchanging a red folder, soon ending up with Leo Bebee’s hands who leads him into the meeting where Bebee hands over the folder to Ford who wants to know why he shouldn't fire Shelby. In another incredible Damon monologue - this time fully authentic - Shelby explains how he watched the red folder exchange hands, assuming over twenty people probably touched it, each lending their thoughts and opinions until everyone can agree on what’s appropriate to present to Ford; a watered down mess of data that essentially boils down to minor changes and the status quo. Although I can’t find the specific quote, I believe he says “You can’t win a race by committee”; again, a shout out to the infamous problem of Art by Committee which plagues entertainment. Continue to part 2... BELOW: A movie where everything goes back to sex Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Highly recommend watching Taikia Waititi on talk shows, awkwardly describing the plot Director: Taika Waititi Writer: Taika Waititi; based on Caging Skies by Christine Leunens Cinematographer: Mihai Mălaimare Jr. Producer: Carthew Neal, Taika Waititi, Chelsea Winstanley by Jon Cvack I’m confident that Nazi films will be around forever. In an acting class, I once said I was fascinated by Nazis, failing to clarify what I meant before making that statement. Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism (1973) and Richard Evans’ Third Reich Trilogy (2003-2008) are two of the most terrifying books that I’ve ever read in my life. To learn how a regime came to power by using a combination of racism, nationalism, and the system itself to rise to power and attempt to destroy entire groups of people. There’s a quote I keep seeing on Facebook about how the rise of fascism is due to a breakdown in thirds - a third supports, a third opposes, and the final third watches as it shifts, failing to see the significance. I no longer feel all that embarrassed to compare to Trump to the rise of fascism. Of course he’s not a brutal dictator, but he is showing how a more politically subtle and calculating figure could rise to power by using our system. Yes both sides pack the courts with their own ideology, but the right wing Federalist Society has a very conservative position on most issues and there’s nothing comparable in power to that. Every single Supreme Court Justice appointed by a Republican has come from the Federalist Society. Currently, there’s a case before the conservative court about the government’s ability to regulate the environment. The more conservative justices, the likelier it is that far right positions could be made precedent and prevent congress from enacting any form of law. Combine that with a court that has made both liberal and conservative presidential power stronger, and it could lead to a disproportionate dynamic between branches. However unlikely, it’s not impossible to imagine and it’s what makes the rise of the Third Reich all the more alarming. It is about one third that tried to fight and make a difference while the other third ignored them - hiding themselves or others in closets and abandoned streets, hoping to avoid detection, unsure when it would ever end. JoJo (Roman Griffin Davis) is a member of the Hitler Youth. He’s a klutzy kid, though hopes to be a great Nazi soldier. He’s encouraged by his imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi) who’s straight from The Office but somehow not distracting. JoJo’s cared for by his mom Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) who’s the type of mom-as-friend that sticks its claws into your heart. They’ve lost contact with JoJo’s father who was last head at the Italian front, now left alone with each other. Taking place in the heart of Berlin, they’re relatively safe compared to the rest of Europe, assisted with JoJo’s indoctrinated insight toward Germany’s campaign. At camp, JoJo meets his drill instructor Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) who’s a famous soldier who lost an eye in battle, now training Hitler’s future soldiers. It all felt so odd at first, as I wasn’t sure if the movie was a satire of Nazi Germany, or attempting to make odd comedy out of a horrible moment in history. Then during a grenade experiment, as the boys throw potato mashers into a field and JoJo runs off through the woods, straight toward the grenade which explode and the film shits into a disturbing sequence demonstrating JoJo was severely fucked up and it’s not at all some cartoon or satire, at least not entirely. It’s comparable to The Death of Stalin combined with a Wes Anderson style, told entirely from a child’s perspective. Waititi opted for an unfamiliar though historically accurate rendition of Germany; abandoning the common pale blues, grays, and browns and instead embracing vibrant yellows, greens, blues, and reds; creating a bizarre world which felt welcoming while simultaneously orchestrating mass death. At first it doesn’t work, feeling like what some feared in keeping the content too loose, and then, once he discovers the Jewish girl in the closet, Elsa Korr (Thomasin McKenzie), it all comes together. The Last Metro (1980), Schindler’s List (1993), and Life is Beautiful (1997) all contain some rendition of this story. It is the ultimate horror of characters gambling with capture and certain brutal death; an idea so far from America that we as a culture fail to comprehend the dynamic. For as much as the country was founded on slavery and destruction of Native Americans, white Americans themselves have never dealt with such levels of government terrorism and uncertainty. It makes Rosie’s performance all the stronger, in realizing that her attitude is all a facade, and that in fact she’s willing to fight to the death to bring down the Nazis. Leading up to one of the most cinematically heart-breaking scenes, Waititi provides intimate moments between JoJo and his mother, often with JoJo sitting down in close up, leaving the left or right frame empty, and in close up we see Rosie’s red shoes feet dance into frame. Somewhere between that, Rosie and JoJo come across a public hanging of local members of the resistance. Later, JoJo finds his mother leaving subversive paper messages around town; realizing that his mother is both protecting his alleged enemy, and attempting to overthrow his philosophy. The Gestapo soon end up at their house where Inge appears, pretending to be JoJo’s dead sister in order to prevent them from finding his mom. Captain Klenzendorf soon enters and they ask for Inge’s passport, leading Elsa to Inge’s old desk, digging through and we’re left wondering the chances of escape. She removes the passport and Klenzendorf checks it, asking for Inge’s birthday, Elsa responds, seemingly correct and Klenzendorf leads the Gestapo out. Moments later, Elsa looks at the papers again and discovers she was a few days off. Later, JoJo walks through the town square alone, his head down, dejected and like the previous scene his mother’s shoes enter the squeeze; except instead of dancing, they’re still and without seeing the gallows, we understand. I can’t recall such an audible realization in the theater. It was cinema at its finest. An example of what the medium provides and where it can take you. Somehow placing you within the child’s mind and then pulling you beyond it. I’ve never heard so many people cry for so long. In a flash, I was left recalling that just an hour or so before I was wondering if the film was just some over the top crude comedy attempting to make light of Nazis. The choice seems deliberate, immersing you into a child’s perspective, using design, performance, and light and color to provide the hope and distraction before shocking us with this moment of realism. From my recollection, beyond the red - blood red - shoes, it’s one of the few times where the frame was desaturated and drained. For the first moment JoJo grasps the destruction around him. The Allies close in and the film takes an even more terrific turn where the Nazi soldiers recruit the Hitler Youth to take up weapons and defend their position. Comparable to Hitchcock never showing a knife penetrating skin in Pyscho’s (1960) shower sequence, Waititi never shows a child getting shot dead, but a mixture of sound and imagery make us comprehend it. The Death of Stalin (2017)provided a similar shift for its conclusion, abandoning satire and turning toward absolute horror. And somehow Waititi keeps it going, as after JoJo dodges the fight, now wearing a Nazi coat, he’s captured by the Soviets, rounded up to be executed where he meets Captain Klenzendorf who’s dragged out in his custom made bedazzled soldier garment. Knowing that JoJo fails to grasp his fate, he comforts the boy before removing the jacket and calls him a Jew. The soviets let him go, rounded the others up, and JoJo hears the gunshots moments later. It’s one of the year’s best scenes. JoJo returns to Elsa and lies about the Allies winning the war, fearing he’ll lose her. The act quickly breaks apart, providing the film’s one awkward hiccup; feeling like a dishonest prank for JoJo to play. I was left imaging if after Elsa asked who won they then walked out and danced in the streets. It’s easy enough to ignore as Elsa grasps her freedom and JoJo struggles with his reality; happy that the fighting is over, but not entirely sure for what it means for his Nazi worldview. As of writing this, the Golden Globes nominated the film for Best Comedy. For a film that had people in the audience crying for nearly a third of the running time, I’m left wondering about the ratio. Yes, the movie is funny, but the heart and drama is right up against it. It’s one of the best movies of the year, taking a story that seems like it’s been told over and over again and somehow providing a fresh take on the era both visually and within the narrative. This is another satire of the time; the way we’ll look back to The Death of Stalin and say that this is a movie about now - about how people ignore evil so long as it doesn’t affect them. Until people can empathize with the most vulnerable, history is doomed to repeat these mistakes. The movie makes you laugh, but days later you’re realizing how easy it is for the world to shift under bright colors and happy thoughts. BELOW: Always the most thrilling scene in a Nazi flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Easy on the eyes Director: Robert Eggers Writer: Robert Eggers Cinematographer: Jarin Blaschke Producer: Rodrigo Teixeira, Daniel Bekerman, Lars Knudsen, Jodi Redmond, and Jay Van Hoy by Jon Cvack In terms of the new generation of cinematic directors, Robert Eggers is one of the most exciting. The premise of The Lighthouse is known without needing to see anything more than the poster. An eerie Lovecraftian/Pinter black and white hybrid about two lighthouse keepers attempting to cope with island fever, featuring two A-list players. It’s the type of film that forms an immediate image in your head which you pray will match your expectations. It does, holding them all the way to the end. The story involves rookie lighthouse keeper Ephraim Winslow (Robert Pattinson) and Thomas Wake (Willem Dafoe) as the elderly boss as they arrive by boat on a small island with a modest lighthouse attached to a decrepit cabin. From the gate and without gratuity, we learn the situation - they are stationed there for six weeks, Thomas is the boss and an alcoholic, Ephraim doesn’t drink. So begins a story that’s hard to summarize, which only another viewing could possibly provide, so consider this some initial thoughts which will expand in the future. Ephraim quickly realizes that his job is to do all of the work while Thomas hangs out at the lighthouse. He mops and washes floors, polishes metal as though sanding it down, and repaints the lighthouse, all while failing to meet Thomas’ expectations. There is nothing he can do that is right and soon a mixture of criticism and solitude causes Ephraim to turn back to the bottle, leading him and Thomas to get drunk and enjoy their first debaucherous night and from there it descends into madness. Whenever I watch or read Harold Pinter, Samuel Beckett, or other absurdists, I’m left wondering how their work could inspire a film. The Lighthouse provides that exact idea. It’s the type of story that I see people immediately trying to categorize within the realm of the plausible; that for whatever reason, no matter the images or methods, this is something that is actually happening, rather than serving as metaphor. My initial experience is that the film is about someone in hell - either figuratively or literally; whether mental or actual. We learn that Ephraim is a murderer and rapist and that he had given up drinking to avoid the impulses he once had. Throughout the film are Lovecraftian flashbacks to images of octopuses, a dead woman, and a sexualized and terrifying mermaid showing all the detailed anatomy used to lure men. Ephraim is also being harassed by a one eyed seagull that he later destroys in the film’s most horrifying scene, whipping the bird into the concrete as it explodes into a feathery and bloody mess. Throughout the film Ephraim is determined to get to the lighthouse, going so far as to drag a full kerosene drum up the winding staircase, taking each step one by one only for Thomas to tell him to take it back back down; made all the more complicated by the hyper masculine yet homoerotic dynamic between the two characters, with Ephraim going so far as to kiss Thomas. It all adds up into a bizarre story whose abstraction shouldn’t work and yet somehow keeps chugging all the way to the end. My immediate impression is that Ephraim had killed and raped a woman in some seaside town, was executed, and now lives on the hellish island where he’s forced to confront his future self, never able to get off. When he reaches the light I don’t see his salvation so much as the process beginning all over again; with Ephraim and Thomas back on the boat, looking toward the flashing light once again. I lean toward a purgatory in which Ephraim is constantly tested - to have sex with the mermaid, to abstain from booze, and to avoid killing Thomas as he fails over and over again; having to relive the experience. The film is a refreshing glimpse into the imagination - not to revert to mental delusion or dreams, but to dive deep into an alternative world. At times there is a bit too much abstraction, but it was drowned out by the imagery and shattering performances. It’s the pinnacle of having an actor convey emotion with words as I only understood about two thirds of what was said. I felt as though I was on a ride, forced and willingly accepting the unfamiliar. Combined with some of the most haunting cinematography I’ve seen in years*. It was a movie experience I’ll never forget. *Robert Eggers somehow allowed a 1.19 x 1 aspect ratio to take on widescreen proportions as he had the wings of the frame in black, blending in with the theater screen. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life; a movie that physically shifted between ratios. BELOW: Cute couple Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the coolest characters of this century Director: Quentin Tarantino Writer: Quentin Tarantino Cinematographer: Robert Richardson Producer: David Heyman, Shannon McIntosh, and Quentin Tarantino by Jon Cvack I haven’t revisited many of Tarantino’s films after Kill Bill (2003/2004). I’ve watched the opening scene of Reservoir Dogs (1992) more times than I can remember, I’ve seen Pulp Fiction (1994) so many times it’s now lost its magic, Jackie Brown (1997) gets better and better with age, and Kill Bill is arguably his magnum opus - and if not his best film, at least his most technically proficient (though my favorite remains Reservoir Dogs). The first time I noticed a magic had been lost was with Death Proof (2007). Revisiting the extended version a couple years ago (which is nearly two hours long), I enjoyed the story more than the first time (likely due to the longer running time), yet something felt missing. Whatever holistic universe Tarantino had created up to that point felt mostly absent. From there he made Inglourious Basterds (2009) which is by far the best of his post-Kill Bill filmography; though even that film I haven’t gone back to more than a couple times, serving as the first Tarantino film that took place beyond his hard boiled world, followed by Django Unchained (2012) and The Hateful Eight (2015); the latter which I liked a lot but struggled to finish on a second viewing, the former I’ve failed to see again, not because I don’t like it but because if I’m in the mood for a Tarantino film I’m probably going to grab one of his first five movies instead. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.. continued this shift, following an ailing movie star and his stunt buddy/body double who becomes - for the most part - tangentially involved with the Manson murders. It was the type of plot that got you excited for what Tarantino would do; both for offering his vision of 1960s Los Angeles and Hollywood when movies remained the pinnacle of culture and the Vietnam War led to a counter culture that would one day be corrupted by a murderous cult leader, Charles Manson Manson. A few years back I’d read Bela Lugosi’s Helter Skelter (1974) - a detailed historical account, widely considered the definitive book on the Manson murders. From Manson’s self-comparison to Jesus in Haight-Ashbury to his friendship to Beach Boy Danny Wilson to his recruitment of estranged hippie girls and their use of LSD to his move to Death Valley where he prepared for what he believed was an inevitable race war - at 600 pages, the story is truly incredible and arguably the most gripping true story in a century. Granted, Tarantino’s film isn’t necessarily about the Manson murders, and for what it does include, his film’s not wrong for focusing on the Hollywood portion. Nevertheless, given that it’s Quentin fucking Tarantino - an individual who is an encyclopedia of pop knowledge, you can’t help but feel disappointed in how little of the history is explored. The film opens up with an interview on the set of the television series Bounty Law between actor Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his stunt double and driver Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). From the get go, there’s something stilted about the conversation; feeling as though the lines are being performed rather than the natural flow of Tarantino’s typical opening dialogue. It might have been the point; in having two characters act for the goofy interviewer, maybe even playing as a joke, but the night after watching this I pulled up the opening Reservoir Dog scene and was hooked for the whole twelve minutes; where each character felt real and saying the lines in the moment. I still don’t know how this works given how goofy the situation is. There was a rawness and love for the rough, bizarre, and unattractive; a willingness to show people we have never seen. With Bounty Law over, Dalton fears for his career, developing a drinking problem as a result. Dalton and Cliff head to a local lounge for a couple drinks where they meet agent Marvin Schwarzs (Al Pacino), warning Dalton that he’s now becoming a “heavy man”; that is, an actor who only serves to be the television villain that gets killed or arrested. And as he ages, those roles could increasingly dry up. Schwarzs recommends Dalton get involved with the Italian spaghetti westerns craze over in Italy. Dalton finds the idea appaleing; seeing them as little more than B-movies, if that. Cliff hasn't been hired as a stunt double in some time, both because of Dalton’s limited work and since he’s burned his contacts after rumors spread that he killed his wife. He lives in a trailer with a pitbull named Brandy and a comparable drinking problem to Dalton. Dropping Dalton home one night, they see director Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate pulling up to their house next door; exciting Dalton for the chance that it could help his fledgling career. The next day Cliff sees who we surmise is Charlie Manson walking up to the Polanski house. After seeing a cute hippie girl (Margaret Qualley) around town, Dalton later goes to the set of The Wrecking Crew where he’s once again the heavy man and tries to get Cliff on as a stunt coordinator for Randy’s crew (Kurt Russell). Randy refuses because rumor has it that Cliff killed his wife, but Randy soon gives in and later Cliff gets in a fight with Bruce Lee on the neighboring set of The Green Hornet which is a weird scene in which Cliff looks to be about to kick the shit out of Lee until Randy appears and puts an end to it; firing him. The scene is a perfect example of Tarantino’s biggest weakness since Kill, in which he offers tangential scenes that seem to have nothing to do with the plot; once reserved for dialogue that had nothing to do with the characters, but with characters that were very much involved with the plot. Dalton leaves and finds the hippie girl hitchhiking and offers her a ride home, learning her name is Pussycat. She comes on strong, offering to repay him with sexual favors to which Cliff demands an ID, settling on letting her lie her head in his lap while he drives her off to the Spahn Ranch on the city edges. Spahn Ranch is an old western set, true to the Manson stories, which Cliff of course knows about with his past work; specifically the owner, George Spahn (Bruce Dern). Dalton is then back on the set of Lancer, playing the heavy man opposite the show’s lead James Stacy (Timothy Olyphant); who for some reason looks like a complete dork, playing a clean cut sheriff, which I guess was the point, but seemed completely wrong for Olyphant who thrives with his gray hair and five o’clock shadow, often intimidating even when being goofy, such as Santa Clarita Diet. Before shooting begins, Dalton meets up with a young girl Trudi Fraser (Julia Butters) and again Tarantino enters in an incredibly and needlessly long dialogue. Writing this almost two weeks later (and reviewing this after I revisited the film about a month ago), I fail to remember a single thing discussed other than that Dalton leaves feeling empowered. We’re then on the set and so begins the best part of the movie as we watch Dalton perform on this cheesy western show, with things going fine until he starts forgetting lines, leading him to go freak out in his dressing room and deliver another classic scene from Leo that’ll be watched for years. He returns to the set and knocks it out of the park and the girl compliments him in a moment that’s now become a meme. He regains confidence and heads home with Cliff and the two watch his role The F.B.I. and Schwarz finally convinces him to go to Italy and star in the spaghetti westerns. But we don’t get to follow him there; the film instead jumping time to his return. I’m still confused by this as it seemed like one of the most exciting sequences Tarantino could have shot; showing the world of Spaghetti westerns. I imagined him emulating Sergio Leone, Corbucci, and others. We don’t see any of it and instead get a weird Kurt Russell voice over that explains everything (albeit with some cool posters), serving as little more than exposition as the story jumped half a year. Between all this, Dalton and Pussycat make it to the Spahn Ranch, finding the place filled with dozens of hippies who stare them down, led by Gypsy (Lena Dunham). The scene builds as Dalton wonders where his old buddy George is and the hippies do all they can to avoid letting him inside. This has to be one of the biggest blue ball moments in recent cinematic history as I drifted to the edge of my seat, anxious to see the Manson story start up and instead, although Tarantino couldn’t make the kids look anymore unnerved and crazed to avoid Dalton finding George, Dalton enters and finds the guy passed out in bed and just a bit confused; as though waking your grandfather from a nap. I suppose that’s the joke and the reality, but it just tanked the scene. Dalton returns a year later, now married to Francesca Capucci (Lorenza Izzo), serving as a type of pre-modern hot woman who screams and yells, all without speaking a word of English. Even with all this seeming success and after being offered a lead in a new series, Dalton then fires Cliff, saying he can’t afford him, having to care for his wife and all. The two decide to have one last night of drinking and return to Dalton’s place where Cliff pulls out an acid dipped cigarette and goes to walk the dog and light it up while Dalton makes some more margaritas and practices his lines in the pool; all while his wife sleeps. Cliff sees some hippies dressed in black trying to get into Polanski’s place and scares them off, but they only then park down the street, with the teenagers offering some cringe-heavy lines about killing, as though written by a fourteen year old emulating Tarantino. They then decide to go and try and kill Dalton and Cliff instead. They head up, Cliff starts feeling the effects of the acid, and Dalton floats in his pool with headphones on, trying to memorize his lines. The hippies approach and so begins the Tarantino scene that we all wait for in each film, and while pretty fun, similar to the Spahn Ranch, fails to deliver. It’s not Pussycat or Gypsy that leads the raid, but four hippies we don’t recognize. Dalton is then tripping on acid, but aside from his shark eye pupils and some mannerisms, there’s no visual cue as to how much he’s tripping. I was immediately thinking of Midsommar (2019) and how well it pulled off psychedelics and how well it could have worked here; not requiring some crazy visuals, but rather providing the subtle effects - light tracers, morphing backgrounds, or amplified colors. Instead, we’re just watching someone tripping on acid, battling four characters we don’t know. It’s a fun enough fight scene, but the potential for where it could have gone was just too apparent. In the end, the hippies die and Polanski and Sharon come home after the police leave and invite Dalton over; possibly reviving his career. There have been online rumors that Tarantino is going to continue the story with a mini-series, and I do think it might be where the story’s salvaged. There was just too much more I was left wanting. Sharon Tate alone has maybe a dozen or so lines. For a powerhouse like Margot Robbie taking up the role, you can’t feel like she was shorted a classic Tarantino female role; serving as little more than a background historical figure, involved with anything else beyond being a neighbor and potential victim. Maybe this is simply the pilot of a much longer story, and if so, maybe this is one of the greatest pilots ever made. Until then, I left feeling disappointed. It was a fun world to live in and see through Tarantino’s eyes, but when I keep watching clips from Jackie Brown throughout writing this, it’s just not nearly as close to creating the engaging stories Tarantino provided with his first five films. Tarantino has famously declared that he’s only going to make ten films, as so few directors have been able to keep making quality work beyond that. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood foreshadows what he means. It’s not a bad film, but it feels like he’s been disconnected from the rough, working class world he created. I hope he returns to crime for his last film, and I still have faith that he could make it work the way we always hope for a Tarantino film, but it feels like for a man who’s been making the creme de la creme of world cinema, his bag of tricks is running out, emulated and evolved far too much for them to keep working. As a note, I revisited the film after a buddy said it was his favorite movie of the year and that it required repeated viewings. I understood and remained hopeful. I thought Sideways (2004) was just pretty good when I first saw it. Now it’s one of my favorite films. While the first two thirds was better than I recalled, all of the criticisms stand, and the weird time jump for the last third was all the more jarring. It felt like rather than focusing on one thing and giving it all he had, Tarantino was drawn too thin; trying to cram way too much into the story, made all the worse the worse when certain moments drag on, making me wonder why I’m focused on a meaningless conversation when I’m watching a film about the Manson murders in Hollywood. BELOW: Best scene of the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Best movie about family in quite some time Director: Lulu Wang Writer: Lulu Wang Cinematographer: Anna Franquesa Solano Producer: Daniele Melia, Marc Turtletaub, Peter Saraf, Andrew Miano, Chris Weitz, Jane Zheng, Lulu Wang, and Anita Gou by Jon Cvack My fellow friend and cinephile at work mentioned that The Farewell was his favorite film of the year and given that we’re in month eight (at the time this writing) I knew that was saying something. The story is about a second generation Chinese American student named Billi (Awkwafina) who lives in New York City and is struggling to get by; falling behind on her bills, counting on getting the prestigious Guggenheim Fellowship, and getting a letter of rejection. Billi returns home to her high strung mother, Jian (Diana Lin), cooking dinner and discovers her dad, Haiyan (Tzi Ma), upstairs and upset; nervous that he’s started drinking again. He reveals that Billi’s grandmother Nai Nai (Zhao Shu-zhen) has gotten lung cancer and is estimated to die in four months. Jian and Haiyan want the family to return to China to pretend to attend Billi’s weird cousin’s wedding in order to share some time with Nai Nai and say goodbye. Per Chinese custom, the family will not tell Nai Nai that her mom has cancer until just a few weeks before she passes. Billi vehemently disagrees, believing it wrong to lie to grandmother and failing to grasp the cultural significance. From an immediate view, I imagine most agree with Billi, and yet you then realize the benefit. If a person thinks that they just have a cold and it might end soon, it’s not as though they’re doomed to reflect on their imminent death and forced to countdown the days. The purpose is to bear the burden and guilt in place of the victim who’s then allowed to appreciate her final days. Billi doesn’t inform her family that she’s coming, and while the rest of her family is suspicious, Nai Nai is thrilled to see her granddaughter. We meet the suspicious bride and groom, the peculiar looking Hao Hao (Chen Han) and his acne-ridden fiance Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara) who play some of the best characters of the film; in which all the family members wonder why on Earth they’re getting married, whether it’s because of a child, or if they actually love each other. They never speak a word to one another, always looking as though they’re sucked out of reality. We go on to learn and discover the other characters; from Billi’s father glued to his brother Haibin (Jiang Yongbo)’ s hip; drinking more and more every night until finally taking up smoking again. We watch Billi’s alarm and disappointment. To think we only heard a single question earlier, and still this moment captures so much history. Her dad evidently had a drinking problem and he’s flirting with it once again and Awkwafina's reaction shows the past. Nai Nai is your above average happy go lucky grandmother; loving each and every moment with her family; still seeing herself as the matriarch and in control, watching over and guiding their lives. Nai Nai’s sister Nai Nai (Lu Hong) was the only underdeveloped character (which you could suspect for having the same name). Her flashy style and unique look blended well with the family, but it felt like the one person I wanted to know more about. Strange enough, I experienced a similar situation recently. My cousin was getting married on the East Coast and after just taking a week off to be with my girlfriend for an important family event, my grandmother demanded I go to the wedding. My dad had always criticized anyone making co-workers' lives inconvenient for your personal benefit. My work already provided me time off to go with my girlfriend on vacation to New York and asking for more time felt unfair. I’m of course saying this in defense of the fact that I did not go to the wedding. My grandmother is 97 years old and now believes she will go any day; regardless of the fact that she still writes me multiple letters per week, cooks her own meals, and lives on her own; fully mobile. She’s at the age where it could happen, she just doesn’t appear in the condition that would lead many to think such. Of course the movie was a strange coincidence; about a woman Billi who wants to be with her dying grandmother one last time at the wedding. The movie is as much about change as about family, and how people continue relationships when there’s so much distance or culture apart. There is a great dinner scene where the family talks about China, its booming economy, and - ever so gently - the ways in which America allows for freedom while China limits it. Billi’s great lesson is learning to communicate with all those around her. Her greatest challenge being to convince her family they’re wrong and that they should tell her grandmother, hoping they’ll soon hear her, but then finally hearing them. It’s the best film I’ve seen all year as well. It’s when the credits rolled that I got the biggest smile; seeing that the director’s grandmother continues to live to this day, years since being diagnosed. I think my grandma will be doing the same. Unfortunately, having written this about a year and a half ago, my own grandmother finally passed away last November at the age of 99. Miss you Gram. BELOW: Little taste Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Park Chan-wook Writer: Park Chan-wook and Chung Seo-kyung Cinematography: Chung Chung-hoon Producer: Park Chan-wook and Syd Lim by Jon Cvack The Handmaiden departs from the dark and flashy style Chan-Wook Park is best known for. The last film I saw from Park was Sympathy for Lady Vengeance back in 2014. I didn’t remember much in terms of his style specifics, but I expected The Handmaiden to provide the same grit. There’s a strange style of filmmaking that I struggle to label - a kind of epic period piece coming-of-age storytelling. Amarcord (1973), Life is Beautiful (1997), The Color Purple (1985), A Very Long Engagement (2004), and Phantom Thread (2017) are the first to come to mind; often involving a director at the top of their game who finally has the budget to express their full imagination. Not knowing what this film was about, the intro immediately immerses you into the mystery. We’re in Japanese-occupied Korea and follow a Japanese rich heiress Lady/Izumi Hideko (Kim Min-hee) who lives in a gigantic and beautiful mansion, half designed by the English and the other half by Japan. We then move into a band of street criminals, ranging in age and expertise, crafting everything from counterfeit money to the perfect pick pocket. The leader Count Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo) decides to try and con his way into marrying Lady Hideko, send her to an insane asylum and then pocket all her money. He is their newest and youngest member, the seemingly innocent and beautiful Sook-hee (Kim Tae-ri). Somehow Sook-hee gets into the position of Lady Hideko’s handmaiden; immediately falling in love. Lady Hideko immediately picks up on the attraction and the pair have their first sexual encounter. Counter Fujiwara then arrives shortly after and attempts to woo over Hideko. While I’m a bit confused over how both he and Sook-hee got to their respective positions, the frenetic style made me buy it, and so begins a love triangle as Sook-hee further develops her feelings and passion. The narrative then shifts in time, which is done in a jarring and yet smart way (when I correctly followed), in which when Sook-hee and Count Fujiwara take Hideko to the insane asylum to pull of the con for Fujiwara to reverse course, and have convinced the hospital that Sook-hee is actually Lady Hideko. The next two parts of the films help explain this grand con; taking place years earlier with Lady Hideko having some weird uncle that reads her sadistic sexual fantasies; some involving a giant squid. To be honest, around here I failed to keep track of the overall details. I was left with some of the most beautiful and unique images I’ve seen in a long time - of a person having sex with a Human sized wood partner and rich men watching on in tuxedos; of one of the most sensual and beautiful sex scenes I can recall of this decade; of the gothic mansion and green parks; of the octopus illustrations and the same animal in the acquarium, oozing out Another viewing will connect the timeline, and yet, like any great storyteller, the images alone piece together the story. It’s an epic tale of love across two women, battling against male forces that hope to preserve them as objects, using them at their pleasure. I’m not familiar with the conflict between Korea and Japan, and somehow Chan-Wook Park communicates the metaphor. There is the desire for free and open love versus tyrannical subjugation. I suspect the countries underwent a similar struggle. Chan-Wook Park creates the perfect kind of cinema - the need to return and the excitement for the day. BELOW: A taste of the images Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Ari Aster Writer: Ari Aster Cinematographer: Pawel Pogorzelski Producer: Patrik Andersson and Lars Knudsen by Jon Cvack For some reason, every time I say I thought Hereditary was pretty good, people recite back that I must have hated the film. It’s one of the more divisive horror films of recent years; part of the art house horror movement that I think is as exciting as the Slasher, Universal Classic, and Sci-Fi Creature Feature movements. The VVitch (2015), It Follows (2014), It Comes at Night (2017), and Get Out (2017) are at the vanguard; ushering in a new era of exciting filmmakers. In terms of craft, Hereditary is at the very top, providing a psycho-horror/Satanic witchcraft hybrid. The simple fact is that I just don’t like psychological horror all that much, and even though I know some tell me/demand I understand that there is no mental illness amongst any of the characters or within the story, and that it’s actually all real, there’s still the suggestion. As mentioned in my thoughts, my problem with psychological horror is analogous to surrealistic filmmaking or dream sequences - everything, no matter how fantastical, is permitted. So yes, if it’s all real, Hereditary’s images are terrifying. Maybe subsequent viewings will change my opinion as other films have (they didn’t and I’m more convinced we’re watching a story about severe schizophrenia). Point is, for something that so many hail as a work of art, many seem determined to provide an exact explanation. Maybe it’s the militancy that turned me off a bit. Or maybe I’m wrong. Midsommar has one of the greatest cold openings to a horror film of all time. I’m tempted to say of this century. It is a master class in cinema; utilizing the camera and blocking interesting characters in ways that maximize the experience. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen the film, and the feeling remains; though the exact story has broken apart into a series of images - a long take of a college student Dani Ardor (Florence Pugh) who suffers from the recent murder-suicide of her parents and sister. Her graduate student boyfriend Christian Hughes (Jack Reynor) and his friends and classmates are introduced moving from a painting down to the table, introducing them one by one before following Christian when he gets a call from Dani; the muted color blown apart when the film cuts to the flashback of firemen discovering Dani’s dead parents and sister, shot in a way that has been turned into mind. Each take was gentle and deliberate, completely immersing me within the story. The kind of situation where when the title credits pop, you forgot time altogether; having been so fully immersed. I struggle to think of a film that has better shown such a specific moment in a romantic relationship. Dani is struggling mentally and Christian clearly has some feelings for her. Some I talked to said it was for the sex, but I don’t get the sense that Dani was interested all that much in sex as we never see them intimate. Through Aster’s mastery, it felt as though the two had a great and passionate year or so, and through a long slow demise - spawned by the tragedy - Christian realized he was no longer in love with her, while Dani seems to have shifted into complete dependence. Aster’s ability to maintain the subtlest amount of genuine care for another is what makes it work so effectively. So on rocky terms, Dani discovers that Christian and his friends are going to Sweden for six weeks; somewhat to study a local festival called Midsommar in an ancestral commune of Hårga, partially to party and see Europe. Christian’s three friends Josh (William Jackson Harper), Mark (Will Poulter), and Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) all prefer Christian finally end things with Dani, and with the film taking place a year after the opening, his credibility is shot. It all doesn’t stop Pelle from flirting with Dani, who again, is masterfully directed, appearing as a perfectly nice guy who maybe could appreciate Dani for who she is, yet with just a hint of creepiness, knowing it’s all a ruse, and he might just be as bad as his friends. They head out and the tone shifts completely. The first film people compare it to is The Wickerman (1973), which I’m not really a fan of. I don’t hate the film, but when I think of putting on a horror film, I just have never been in the mood to return. The reason I think so few of these films exist is because they generally exist within the daytime and outside with sunny weather. The complete opposite of what is scary or frightening. It’s a challenge, but it’s not particularly overcome. The five arrive outside the gates, with blue skies separated by Simpson clouds, and dozens of clusters of people sit all across the field as far as the eye can see. Pelle finds his old friends Connie (Ellora Torchia) and Simon (Archie Madekwe) who give them some shrooms. In a scene all too many of users have been in, Christian wants to take them while Dani is nervous. What gives it that extra zest is that Dani has a legitimate reason to probably not do hallucinogens with severe mental trauma and while on medication. It’s this point that raises my first mild criticism, in that it seems like - similar to Heredditary - the whole story could have easily been an entire fantasy brought on by a bad drug cocktail, and just as she initially took the shrooms and saw the grass going through her foot, she became immerse. I don’t think it’s legitimate, and perhaps this was Aster’s throwback to psychedelic cinema, but it shook the foundation a bit. Any way, Dani agrees to take the shrooms and grass starts growing out of her foot and she has a freak out, leading her to walk off alone. For anyone that’s ever been curious or has done shrooms, this is the greatest depiction I’ve seen of the drug and capturing a freak out. I still don’t know how he achieved it, but Aster caught the drug’s essence by somehow making it appear as though any element on the screen was only twirling if you were looking at it. With my eyes bouncing from Dani to the trees, I kept thinking the effect was fading, only to look back and see the same. They end up in the town and Christian and his friends nearly orgasm over the anthropological significance. The place is entirely run by blonde hair and fair skinned people, all decked out in white linen clothes and mostly friendly. They give the guests a tour of the complex and show them where they’re going to sleep. Christian or another friend ask about the lack of old people, told that old people “go away” after the age of 64. Later, we meet a pair of old people who are the ceremony’s guests of honor. In a long scene, where unfortunately the tone begins to shift, we watch a long and drawn out sequence, culminating in the two senior citizens going to the top of a mountain, to then jump off and commit suicide. The woman has a clean death, though the husband only busted his legs, requiring them to bring in a gigantic hammer and crush his skull in. Dani, Christian and the others freak out, including Pelle’s friends. It’s defended as being part of the culture, the old people allegedly saw it as a privilege and elected to do it, and it allows them to sustain the colony by doing so. Both the film and craft level off at this point. Expecting it to go far off the deep end, the story doesn’t get worse, it just doesn’t maintain its upward trajectory. Although Josh had always planned to write his thesis on the festival, Christian announces that he’s going to make it his thesis; pissing Josh off for reasons that I guess I understand but seem silly. Christian is a fairly dead beat student, so even if they were going to write on the same festival it doesn’t appear like there’s much competition. Secondly, although I’m not certain, I’m sure the professor would have final say, and very likely would prevent Christ from stealing Josh’s topic. Both my senior papers in college had to be pitched and developed by the professor. I can’t see graduate school being much different. This feud further alienates Dani and perpetuates the tensions with Christian. Pelle approaches Dani once again, giving her an illustration for her birthday where she confesses that Christian had forgotten. Christian then tries to make things up in one of the cringiest scenes I’ve watched in a long time; trying to light birthday candles and singing an awkward Happy Birthday as Dani sees right through it. He then starts crushing on a local girl who he can’t take his eyes off of. Meanwhile, Pelle’s friend Connie freaks out when she learns her boyfriend Simon was driven home, unsure by who. Mark then accidentally pisses on a sacred tree and pisses off the rest of the commune. All of these aren’t necessarily bad developments, but beyond Dani and Christian’s relationship, they all feel like easy tropes from a filmmaker that has reinvented so much. It felt like busy work to kill them off and get to the film’s final scene. It felt like so many of these could have gone in far more fucked up directions; again, leveling the film off prematurely rather than building up. The final scene involves another brilliant shroom trip, as Dani plays a musical chair/tag hybrid, as she dances around with the other young women, all tripping out, doing their best to avoid falling down. Christian is lured by his local crush’s family and into a bizarre and unforgettable scene where women across the age spectrum sing and dance while he fucks his crush who lies on the ground. A stoned Dani wins the contest, receiving full honors in the shape of a flower dress, though soon discovers Christian who later is burned alive with two other commune members, his corpse already gutted and their skinned friends turned into scarecrows. Another issue is that Jack Rynor - who plays Christian - looks strikingly similar to Chris Pratt; making the dramatic moments feel a bit off, as I found myself expecting some humor. The problem unfortunately peaking out during the dramatic ritual fucking scene. I’m not completely sure this wasn’t intentional. The movie is a good horror film, but as others have said and similar to Hereditary, I’m not even sure it fits the horror category. On a Reddit AMA, Aster suggested he’s going to move on from horror for the time being. For a guy who is a radical cinephile, I cannot wait to see where he goes. Aside from some of the simpler tropes, Midsommar otherwise provides an engaging romantic story; serving as a fantastical catharsis, but leaves me wondering what Aster will explore beyond the genre. BELOW: Another story about trauma - was it all a trip? Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  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  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 |
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