 Glover steals the show Director: Ron Howard Writer: Jonathan Kasdan & Lawrence Kasdan Cinematographer: Bradford Young Producer: Kathleen Kennedy, Allison Shearmur, and Simon Emanuel by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... While Alden Ehrenreich did a great job evolving Hans’ arrogant and condescending smirk and other mannerisms, his performance just didn’t match Harrison Ford’s persona; his voice, in particular, felt too high versus the calm cool that Harrison Ford took on. However, Danny Glover’s Lando more than made up for it; providing one of the greatest performances across the entire series (including the original trilogy); going so far as to exceed Billy Dee Williams. It’s Ron Howard’s expertise that allowed him to pull off a Star Wars poker game, which although I didn’t understand the rules, was directed with enough personality and suspense that it didn’t matter. Of course what they’re playing is the infamous game in which Lando loses the Millenium Falcon to Han, who we discover actually loses, creating just enough of a question to make us wonder both a) how he gets the Falcon, and b) when the next will occur. What makes the film work so well against The Force Awakens (2015), The Last Jedi (2017), and even the first half I’ve seen of Rogue One (2016) is that it’s no throwback overload, sprinkling Easter Eggs in all directions simply to appease the fans. While Hans’ name and Chewie's intro felt a bit cheap like the others, it was this scene that shifted the rush; and when you hear about the Kessel Run, you know what’s coming. L3-37 (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) is my favorite droid of the series and progressing the mythology in a way that improves the universe. In this case, we realize that the droids have been treated very much as the minority-figure/comedy relief characters; never taken all that seriously. With films like Prometheus (2012) and Ex Machina (2014) exploring cyborg sentience and the ethics of AI consciousness, Howard extends the same concerns to Solo. At first, we see the droid cockfights as kind of cool and reminiscent of Robot Wars on Discovery; then we piece together that those robots are no different than the self-awareness of L3-37 who attempts to protest the fighting. Later we discover she’s under the impression that Lando is in love with her, unsure how the relationship could work; offering just a subtle hint that she might have reciprocal feelings. It’s a testament to Howard’s skill in allowing us to empathize with the issue, made all the better as Glover paints just enough of a gray area to make us wonder if he is, indeed, attracted to L3-37. They end up on the planet Kessel in order to retrieve the coaxium shipment; located on a gorgeous practical set that rivals anything from the original trilogy. The plan goes awry, in which L3-37 leads a revolt of the droids while Chewi saves his fellow Wookies and disaster strikes; L3-37 loses her life in the process as they’re overwhelmed by the Imperial Army; forced to make Kessel Run that has piqued our interest for over thirty years and fully delivering one of the series' best uses of computer graphics in creating high suspension; accomplishing that magical feeling that cinema can occasionally provide in making us question what will happen although we know. They return to Savareen to process the coaxium before Vos returns. The pirates from the botched train heist return and we discover that they’re actually early rebels; in dire need of the coaxium to both prevent the Empire from using it to complete further mass murders and for financing their operation. In one of the series best double (or triple) crosses, we watch as Han and Beckett betray Vos, retrieving the coaxium to which Beckett again tries to pull a fast one on Han, leading Han to “shoot first” and kill him. Beckett says he made the right decision and we get another brilliant answer to a long-held mystery; defending that Han likely shot Gweedo first as a lesson learned from this very moment and putting an end to the debate. While Qi’ra’s double-crossing and conversation with Darth Maul felt unnecessary (especially given how close this film is to A New Hope (1977) where we never even learn or see any Siths). I enjoyed Qi’ra’s character and it was an otherwise appropriate ending for helping us understand Hans' bitterness and allow us to empathize with his arrogance. While it felt like just one too many double-crosses, and that the film could have easily book ended A New Hope (1977), I suppose Disney couldn’t allow a one-off origin story stop there when Marvel can create a half dozen films per character. Overall, it’s the film I’ve long been waiting for. While costing an extraordinary $275 million (which it’s looking to fail to make back), the story somehow feels small and intimate. It makes me hopeful that with the right directing/writing team the Star Wars universe can go on in an interesting direction that might restore that little kid excitement I’ve begun to lose since A Phantom Menace (1999). BELOW: Less lightsabers and more old fashioned action Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
0 Comments
 Great 80s throwback villain Director: Ron Howard Writer: Jonathan Kasdan & Lawrence Kasdan Cinematographer: Bradford Young Producer: Kathleen Kennedy, Allison Shearmur, and Simon Emanuel by Jon Cvack The Force Awakens (2015) was the final nail in the coffin for me to lose interest in Star Wars and I missed Rogue One (2016) because of it. I don’t need to rehash the reasons why other than that the film is conservative in plot and liberal in mythology, combining into a recipe for disaster that The Last Jedi further demonstrated. I had heard that Rogue One was different; providing that throwback Star Wars feel that the last five sequels had missed. As a former diehard fan I just never could muster the will to put it on. I didn’t want to experience the disappointment yet again; in which I try and tell myself it was an okay film and then days go by and the sad reality settles in. I’m not sure if this was rock bottom expectations, but I thought this was the best Star Wars sequel since the original trilogy. It accomplished what I had so long been waiting for in providing a modest story that simply exists within the universe; not trying to be anything more than the original by creating some grand existential crisis or redefining the canon. It simply involves characters from the universe existing on the fringe of what will become an extraordinary journey. Now admittedly, I found the first fifteen minutes a little rough and confusing. The images were muddy and crowded, preventing me from immersion simply because I couldn’t understand what I was seeing or where I was. It opens with Han Solo (Alden Ehrenreich) who had stolen a vial of the highly valuable coaxium, hopping into a landspeeder, then getting caught by a band of Octopus/Reptilian fish creatures who live in the sewer. Solo escapes and so begins an uninspired speeder chase which plays like a really expensive set up for a joke that’d later play when Han gets his cruiser caught between the walls in a hackneyed boat-speeding-between-two-ships-gag that has been done every which way in the world of cinema to the point of having no chance of working. Hans is joined by childhood sweetheart Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke) who also grew up in the sewers, heading to the Empire’s local Pilot Academy as the gang closes in. Han signs up, and not having the last name and being all alone, the officer prescribes him the last name Solo. Fast forward three years and we’re in the middle of a gorgeously shot battle. I’m not sure if I started tuning out by now, but I completely missed that he was kicked out of the Imperial Flight Academy for insubordination. He’s introduced with a band of criminals led by Tobias Beckett (Woody Harrelson) and his girlfriend Val (Thandie Newton). There’s some form of blackmail Han attempts (even Wikipedia doesn’t provide any details) which leads Beckett to turn Han into the Imperial Army for desertion. This then lands him in jail where he’s supposed to be eaten by a creature who we learn is Chewbacca. Han somehow knows Shyriiwook and in seconds convinces the Wookie to join up and trick the guards that Han is dead and then kills them. Between my confusion and the lack of inspired narrative, I figured it was another failure; trying so hard to integrate easter eggs that sacrifice creativity for convenience. Then Beckett saves Han and the Wookie escapes and so begins an amazing ride up through the end. With all of the world set up, we learn that Beckett, Qi-ra and their four-armed pilot Rio Durant (Jon Favreau) are after a massive shipment of coaxium, planning to heist a train and grab the car filled with the material. In a great action piece, the team attempts the mission, disrupted by a gang of Cloud Riders shows up. Qi’ra sacrifices herself and Rio is shot dead in the raid, forcing Beckett, Hans, and Chewie to abandon the payload and escape. We learn that Beckett is in debt to crime boss Dryden Vos (Paul Bettany) who’s flies around a mega-Yacht-like starship. Moments aboard, Hans comes across Qi-ra, in wonder of the coincidence and determined to reignite their relationship, discovering she is now involved with Dryden, serving as one of his top Lieutenants. Vos is your classic 80s/90s villain down to his gelled crisp blonde hair and facial scars; frightening by the very nature of his presence and willingness to kill anyone who double-crosses him. Thus, when Beckett says that they failed to secure the coaxium shipment, Vos is willing to give him one more chance with the understanding that another mistake would be fatal. She sends Qi-ra along to avoid any further mistakes. So begins the fantastic journey in which they’re led by Qi-ra to meet Lando Calrissian. It was this section that was particularly fantastic, as one trope that’s long past old is each film’s attempt to provide its own version of the Mos Eisley space cantina, in which we meet a band of peculiar-looking characters that have now all grown to look so similar that it each scene blends together. However, Ron Howard makes this scene work, foregoing some grand set piece in favor of what looks like a fully practical design; containing thick shadows that hide the imperfections rather than trying to create the most meticulous design in a computer. The robot cock-fighting was such a fantastic and simple idea, operating subtly in the background, slowly building as we’re introduced to another character and robot L3-37 who finds the cockfighting revolting; though more on that in the second part. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Not a big fan of the endless Star Wars easter eggs, but this was good Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Paul Schrader Writer: Paul Schrader Cinematographer: Alexander Dynan Producer: Jack Binder, Greg Clark, Victoria Hill, Gary Hamilton, Deepak Sikka, Christine Vachon, David Hinojosa, and Frank Murray by Jon Cvack It was while listening to Ethan Hawke talk about this film on NPR’s Fresh Air that I realized how much I love his interviews. He was discussing a couple of his latest films - his directorial debut Blaze (2018) about the life of musician Ben Foley and this film. Throughout the interview, you realize how articulate, charming, and intelligent the guy is; serving as the type of actor that’s grounded and understands his privileged position; determined to make good art whenever possible, even if that means doing a few better-paid movies along the way. Days after the interview, Reddit posted a link to Colbert’s Late Show, in which the host let Hawke tell a gripping six minute story as he explained the best acting advice he received from Mark Rylance regarding playing Hamlet opposite two of Hawke’s idols. It’s getting more into podcasts that I realize how fast interviews are on television; in which some rule I once heard said to avoid letting any one person speak for more than five or seven seconds (a principle embodied by CNN and Fox News). Hawke possesses that magical ability to connect with others; making it feel as though he’s talking straight to you. Like any great artist, he creates that peculiar sense of kindred spirit. Similar in-depth and detail as Hawke’s own views on art and the world, Schrader’s film contains an extraordinary amount of nuance. While serving the simple plot of a priest at ethical odds with an environmental extremist, Schrader's universe uses the narrative as a way to explore a range of ideas on the convergence of business, politics, and religion, and the world in which that convergence exists. Reverend Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke) oversees the First Reformed Church located in a small town in upstate New York. The opening tosses you straight into its Academy Ratio (1.37:1) which given all modern widescreen 16:9 TVs, has become a jarring look; especially in a theater where the wings of the screen contain tall black rectangles. There’s a long dolly into the church and in we go, following Toller as he entertains tourists and visitors. First Reformed has been around for nearly 250 years, serving as part of the underground railroad, now owned by the Abundant Life megachurch. Pastor Jeffers (Cedric Kyles) provides Toller a significant amount of autonomy in exchange for keeping up with the office and community politics. With the church’s 250th anniversary approaching, interest has spread statewide and he wants to ensure that everything goes as smoothly as possible. Similar in style to Travis Bickle’s voice over, though far less profane and bleak, Toller has decided to keep a journal for a single year which he will destroy on the anniversary. Toller is a former military chaplain who after supporting his son’s decision to go to enlist during the Iraq War, received notice that he had been killed in action after only six months. His wife and him were unable to repair their relationship and divorced and he later joined First Reformed. He’s visited by one of his parishioners, the pregnant Mary (Amanda Seyfried) who wants him to visit her radical environmentalist husband Michael (Philip Ettinger) who doesn’t believe Mary should have the baby. Global warming is a difficult subject; an issue that has somehow become politicized when it is about continuing the world for all life by at least trying to fix the problem. Nevertheless, as with any contentious issue, there are the tropes around those politics and there’s been no shortage of disparaging tree huggers or the way environmentally conscious discuss the issues. So many know the basic facts of global warming that there’s a risk of sounding like parody when attempting to have a conversation between two characters who discuss the problem. Schrader masters the scene, somehow finding the balance between Michael providing empirical data without it sounding trite or obvious. We hear an articulate and strong argument for why he doesn’t want to bring a baby into the world: climate change's effects are starting to strike and there’s no evidence to support that it’s getting better. It will get worse and Americans will feel the effects firsthand and in much more significant ways. In the end, the most Hawke can say is that it’s better to allow for something to exist than to not exist; to possibly fight the problem and make it better for subsequent generations. Days later, Mary calls Toller to her house, showing him a bomb vest that Michael created. Toller tells her to keep it quiet to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Hawke’s mastery is making this sound like an entirely reasonable and understandable request. Days later, Michael texts Toller to meet him in a nearby park; to which he shows up, discovering Michael had blown his head off with a shotgun. Returning to Mary, they discover the last will in testament; asking for his ashes to be scattered in a toxic waste dump. Toller honors the request and invites some choir singers from Abundant Life who sing a pro-environmental Neil Young song, attracting the attention of some political bloggers. This gets back to one of Abundant Life’s chief financiers Edward Balq (Michael Gaston) who, during a meeting about the anniversary, scolds Toller for making Michael’s death into a political statement. This sends Toller further down the rabbit hole of his own environmental investigation, which like Travis Bickle’s observations of humanity, begins to quite literally rot his body as he soon learns that his difficulty going to the bathroom is stomach cancer. The church anniversary approaches, and Toller pieces together how the church, business, and politics all intersect, as Balq and Jeffers join the mayor and governor to honor a historical church that helped to fight against the vicious foe of bondage. Now there’s another, worldwide existential problem, and the same individuals are doing nothing about it. Fully empathizing with Michael and foregoing all his prior advice, Toller dresses up in the bomb vest and aims to blow up the church; until he sees Mary arrives and opts for some Drano instead. She stops him before he drinks and the two embrace and it cuts to black - either the bomb went off, or perhaps the poison took effect, or it’s some grand declaration on the power of love negating all else (which I highly doubt). There’s a deep cynicism in the film which I think a lot of those who even casually follow up on climate change news can understand. The problem is getting worse. The debate should be between how bad it is or how far past the point of no return we are, how to solve it, and what we can do in the short term. In the era of Trump, the subject is no longer discussed; reserved for the occasional, otherwise Earth-shattering news that 15,000 scientists have penned a letter warning of “dire warning to humanity” about the effects of global warming. Although I wrote this over eighteen months ago, Australia has over 12 million acres of forest burning. Two million people have lost their homes and their citizens are calling it Hell on Earth. And still we keep going, taking one step forward as we’re driven dozens of steps back. Recent films like Chasing Corral (2017) and Chasing Ice (2012) demonstrate firsthand how rapidly the problem is accelerating and still there’s no consensus. There’s profound selfishness at play, in which most just hope to make the remainder of their own lives last, by buying that house and car and all the consumption that provides them short term joy. Even the most ardent upper-class liberals have their mansions and BMW’s out here in Los Angeles. Everyone is willing to sacrifice, but only up to a point. Schrader’s film embodies this idea - showing a man so torn by these revelations that, with maybe months to live, finds no other meaning than to destroy himself and take one less body from the world. I struggle with how I look at those who deny global warming; as it’s starting to have a direct impact on human lives and so many are willing to give up nothing. We cannot destroy life to preserve it and yet life will be destroyed by ignoring it. First Reformed demonstrates the struggle. In the end, if Toller sacrificed himself and Mary, Schrader allows us to wonder the impossible - was it worth it? I want to say no, but the film denies simple judgment. BELOW: "It doesn't come for free." Some profound thoughts on the great actor-artists of our time 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 Gerwig's best roles Director: Mike Mills Writer: Mike Mills Cinematographer: Sean Porter Producer: Anne Carey, Megan Ellison, and Youree Henley by Jon Cvac When thinking of suburban angst films, the first that come to mind are The Ice Storm (1997), American Beauty (1999), In the Bedroom (2001), and Thumbsucker; a series of films I checked out early into my cinephilia which provided that first sense of connection between the medium and my own life. All of these films were released within the same decade, seeming to roll out in rapid fashion. I can’t remember much from Thumbsucker other than the obvious and that it had an indie movie twin with The Chumscrubber (2005); the latter of which I remember nothing about, but still own on DVD. 20th Century Women is by the same director as Thumbsucker, Mike Mills, who’s Beginners (2010) went on to earn Christopher Plummer an Oscar nomination, though I forget again what it was exactly about. I’m afraid Mills might have produced a similar situation for the third time. I liked 20th Century Women, and Annette Benning gives an incredible performance; fully deserving of her Oscar nomination, but I was left wondering what the story was about exactly; other than some reflection on both a period in time and a bit of autobiography. The story follows three women and one male character: Abbie Porter (Greta Gerwig), Julie Harman (Elle Fanning), and Dorothy Fields (Annette Bening) and her teenage son Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann). Dorothy Fields was a flapper back in the day, having Jamie when she was past forty, now divorced and running a boarding house, renting it out to both Abbie and a middle-aged carpenter-artist-hippie William (Billy Crudup) who fixes up the house in exchange for cheaper rent. Jamie is becoming hormonal, having gotten friend-zoned by the otherwise promiscuous Dorothy Fields who sleeps in his bed every night, wanting to spend as little time at home where her psychologist mother subjects her to a barrage of therapy sessions. The four narratives satellite around Dorothy’s story which is that she’s an aging woman who chain-smokes, and in a series of flashbacks explains that she’s going to die before the new Millenium from lung cancer; told through a strange voice over as the narrator rants off a bunch of historical events. Each character gets one of these wrap ups, allowing us to learn about what they’re going through - in this case, that Dorothy went to NYU and started dating a professor, got diagnosed and then beat cervical cancer, destroying her ovaries in the process and causing her to get dumped by the professor, where she then moved to Santa Barbara. I’m becoming a massive Gerwig fan, thinking back to seeing her in Hannah Takes the Stairs (2007) and how incredible it is to see how far she’s come; she somehow embodies a contradiction - appearing as someone that’s spacy and slow while constantly revealing an extraordinary amount of depth, intelligence, or creativity; creating strange eccentric characters without ever falling victim to archetype or trope. I’m certain that she will go on to provide some of the greatest roles of her generation. Abbie introduces Jamie to feminism and the many writers who embraced the cause; allowing Jamie to understand certain ideas about sex and social position. He learns about the clitoris and passes, ideas about selfish love, and passes them onto his friends and schoolmates who for some reason beat the shit out of him. In the film’s best scene, Jamie reads a passage to his mom about the writer’s existential experience of becoming an older woman and the sense of worthlessness it contains. It’s more permissible for men can enter into relationships with younger women, whether because of social constructs or evolutionary reasons, while older women become less attractive; creating a deep sense of loneliness in the process. Dorothy wondered if the passage is about her. Jamie says no, but the two know it is. I admire Mike Mills' attempt to integrate the stories of three strong female characters (and I mean strong as in complex/interesting characters not some comment on their mental or physical strength which I can’t believe I now have to start qualifying). Abbie, Dorothy, and Julie were all complex individuals, but they all seemed to be characters I’ve seen before; saved by Gerwig and Fanning’s performances, but still not all too coherent. At times he wanted to be some feminist warrior, and yet the women all seemed in service to Jamie and his discovering its principles. There was no thread to the story; abandoning plot to instead focus on a bunch of different philosophies and how they operated at this particular moment in history. I understand that it was attempting to explore a nascent period of women’s second-generation liberation, but I think it could have benefited from perhaps flipping Jamie and Julie’s characters; allowing Jamie to operate as a satellite; perhaps as a guy who’s a self-proclaimed feminist with only a cursory understanding versus Julie who’s struggling to explore her body and learn what it means to be a modern woman in a rapidly changing world. It all felt like a bunch of fragments, trying to cram far too much history into a narrative that didn’t need so much. I’s a noble effort from Mike Mills, but this is the type of story where I think a woman is much better equipped to tell it. BELOW: The dangers of learning about the vagina Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Somehow incorporating The Shining without destruction Director: Steven Spielberg Writer: Zak Penn and Ernest Cline; Ready Player One by Ernest Cline Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Donald De Line, Kristie Macosko Krieger, Steven Spielberg, and Dan Farah by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... The story takes place in 2045. Due to some political events unknown, America has sunk into a dystopia. There seems to be some form of a universal basic income as most citizens, while living in trailers stacked as tall as skyscrapers, spend the vast majority of their lives in the virtual reality MMO called OASIS; designed by your prototypical socially awkward, though benevolent computer programmer Anorak (Tye Sheridan). Anorak had created the game as a dedication to all of the great media from popular culture - films (including a sizeable chunk of Spielberg’s own work), comic books, video games, music, cartoons, you name it. Anorak has hidden an Easter egg in the game, in which through solving a series of three puzzles, the winner could win control of OASIS. Anorak’s former partner Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn; who’s becoming one of my new favorite actors) owns Innovative Online Industries and seeks to win the contest and win control over the program where he’ll run ads, institute paywalls, and stand to profit hundreds of billions of dollars. The problem is that the announcement has been made for years and still no one’s solved even the first riddle. Gunter’s avatar in the game is called Parzival, who looks like a three-dimensional anime character. He’s friends with a character named Aech (Lena Waithe) which looks like Street Fighter’s Zangief was a robot. She owns a massive garage where, amongst other vehicles and machines, and is building a lifesize model of the Iron Giant. In a time of more inclusion, Spielberg shows how it’s done; demonstrating that our actual selves are meaningless within the world; disguising Aech’s voice with just a bit more bass to mask it’s actual creator. It left me wondering if virtual reality could be one of the greatest tools in the fight against bigotry. One of Anorak’s first puzzles involves beating a complex car and dangerous race which nobody has ever won, including an army of indentured players owned by Nolan Innovative Online Industries. Parzival drives an old Delorean (there are many Back to the Future references in this, which again, given the logic that it’s not Spielberg’s choice so much as Anorak’s makes it all work without distraction), and while many have gotten hundreds of feet away from the finish line King Kong always ends up destroying the potential victors. Anorak had allegedly left the answer to the unbeatable in his archive library which, though perused by thousands, has never been cracked. Unfortunately this was the weakest part of the story, as Parzival decides to check back just one more time and finally, by watching a video of a conversation between Anorak and Nolan which he’s seen it dozens of times before, he finally gets the answer. It’s as simple as Anorak mentioning something about driving in reverse that leads Parzival to try the race one more time, slamming into reverse and driving under the course that had claimed so many machines and avatars. One of the story’s greatest pieces of logic is that if you die in the game you lose all of the devices, tools, powers, etc. that you’ve managed to achieve; more or less preventing players from fighting with one another, given the risk. Thus, players are disincentivized from pursuing the race with reckless disregard; that is, by making some “million” dollar move which could overcome the King Kong. What makes the story work well is that it abandons any attempt to up the stakes via the norm of worldwide existential crisis; retreating back to the very narrative styles that Anorak was most passionate about; namely 80s action movies. Nolan recruits the help of a nefarious avatar named i-R0k (T.J. Miller) who is essentially a type of in game bounty hunter that works closely with Innovative Online Industries (think of it like the WoW farmers who created leveled-out characters to sell at a profit). After Parzival beats the first challenge, all the other players follow. Parzival’s success makes him an immediate success. Art3mis and Aech warn him against maintaining his current image or revealing his actual name to others. Soon it slips and Nolan tracks down the real life Wade Watts; offering him to make him rich in return for solving the riddle of IOI. Wade refuses and so begins a great cat and mouse game, all while they try to solve the remaining challenges before Nolan succeeds. One of the most brilliant scenes takes place at The Outlook Hotel; not offering some computer generated enhanced version (for the most part), but what looks like the actual hotel. It all adds up into a universe that abides by the principle that popular culture and all of the art it includes are as much a part of our day to day lives as art, the media, religion, politics, sports any other passion you can think of. The world’s seemingly endless visual possibilities create the foundation of logic that defends the creation of the most surreal and jam packed CGI I’ve ever seen; in which even the smallest detail seems to be a reference to something else. Counter to your typical summer blockbuster which wants creates a surrealistic world that somehow functions within reality, Spielberg understood that the best place for these types of devices to operate was in nascent world of virtual reality. All in all, I saw the film and what it accomplished visually as the sunset of popular cinema. There will always be summer blockbusters, but I was left wondering how long it could last if and when this type of virtual reality arrives. It seems more likely that people would watch films within the world than go to an actual cinema; and that given all the other things you could be doing - actually interacting within a narrative rather than passively watching one - that films would remain a fringe cultural event; similar to literature or theater (as I’ve said before). Ready Player One is very much a harbinger of things to come. I think we’ll look back at this film as eerily prescient; the way 2001 and its thoughts on artificial intelligence are all the more impressive over fifty years later. This is the type of film that makes you excited for when the technology rolls around; allowing you to understand how and why people would remain forever connected. Compared to the real world it offers endless possibilities; in which the user is only limited by their imagination. Ready Player One is the fusion between classic Spielberg and his striving CGI adaptation that we were all waiting for. BELOW: Wonder what Stephen King thought? Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The future: living in a trailer while living in a video game. Probably right Director: Steven Spielberg Writer: Zak Penn and Ernest Cline; Ready Player One by Ernest Cline Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Donald De Line, Kristie Macosko Krieger, Steven Spielberg, and Dan Farah by Jon Cvack I’ve mentioned before that Steven Spielberg has struggled to evolve with CGI; best reflected in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008) where he seemed to ignore Dr. Malcolm’s advice from Jurassic Park. He was too busy wondering if he could make anything happen, he never thought if he should make anything happen. Almost every computer generated scene felt needlessly large; down the warehouse in the opening scene, throwing back to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989) which threw back to Citizen Kane (1941), though while both pull off a practical facade of vast boxes filling a gigantic warehouse, The Crystal Skull just paints ten times the number in with a massive vista; in some ways operating antithetical to cinema in failing to use the frame for anything beyond spectacle. War of the Worlds (2005) was pretty fun to watch, but again - having seen it before I understood the craft - I realized it’s because it too relies on Spectacle rather than cinematic technique; I like Minority Report (2002) and A.I. (2001), though they’re far from my favorite Spielberg. While some want to argue that Spielberg’s lost his touch, I’d easily put Bridge of Spies and The Post somewhere in my Top 100 of the new millennium; coincidentally when Spielberg abandoned the CGI and returned the purest form of craft. Knowing little about the book, when I saw Spielberg was doing "Ready Player One" (2011) - as I much as I wanted to hope it’d be awesome - I had little faith left. I figured it’d be another overwrought CGI love fest, in which Spielberg abandoned his magic touch once again. I had heard about the book both from a friend who explained the basic premise, and Ezra Klein when he had Jaron Lanier on his podcast to discuss the future of virtual reality (an episode which I highly recommend and definitely kickstarted me into a fascination with artificial intelligence; specifically the book "Superintelligence" (2014) which, while a tough read, is one of the most alarming books I’ve ever read). The story explores the idea that if jobs became increasingly automated, a universal basic income was introduced, and virtual reality creates a vivid enough environment, why would anyone want to live outside of it? Ezra Klein had mentioned another book on his podcast quite a few times called “Finite and Infinite Games” (1986); a pretty popular book in Silicon Valley. I picked up along with "Superintelligence", figuring they’d be similar enough. It compares a philosophy of life to both finite and infinite games (a finite game being defined as one which has a beginning and end, such as checkers or Call of Duty, while an infinite game never ends, such as World of Warcraft or other MMOs). Author James P. Carse’s says that it’s better to approach life as an infinite game and compares the two possibilities with everything from health and well being to politics and the economy. For instance, Hitler and other authoritarian leaders all had long finite games in mind; wanting to destroy their opponents in order to expand their control versus an infinite game which is to try and secure and maintain alliances that minimize conflict and help everyone. I was expecting more from the book, as it seemed to read like a mixture of self-help and some cryptic pseudo philosophic treatise that could provide answers to life’s grand question. I assume following it after an in-depth and analytic philosophical investigation about artificial intelligence wasn’t the best idea. However, when I consider how it applies to Ready Player One and why Ezra Klein made the comparison, it does provide at least an introductory explanation of what the world could be like. For my sociology minor in college, I was able to take a class called the Sociology of Play; in which the teacher who had at least a mild addiction to World of Warcraft, walked us through the cultural, structural, gender, and political aspects of video game play. The other three quarters of the time was spent playing this game. I had long considered World of Warcraft a bird’s eye view game - per the likes of Command and Conquer - rather than the third person massive multiplayer online game (MMO) that it is. I recall starting the game in the middle of a field, beyond confused of what to do, trying the first few missions, leveling up, and discovering how vast the world was. For those who haven’t played, the game involves going on missions to destroy every type of villain you could imagine, along with some non-aggressive quests which help you power up, which allows you to have better equipment, which allows you to fight increasingly harder villains, which gets you more points to level up further. Each level then requires even more points to level up and so the game goes on for what feels like forever. I’ve forgotten the exact number, but I think after playing for four months or so in the class, I leveled up to the mid-teens (which my teacher found unimpressive compared to the diehard WoW students who weren’t even sociology major/minors, but rather took the class that they loved WoW so much). At a maximum of 90 level points (at the time, that is; each expansion pack raises the number), I hardly made a dent, as again, each level takes far more time than the previous. My college professor had two characters fully leveled out, which means that he must have literally spent thousands of hours playing the game; as he was on every night, and the only reason I was even able to level up to my abysmal number was because he helped me out on quests no matter what time I logged in (as a level-90 he was able to kill the villains I faced with a single click). Somewhere deep within one of the worlds is a marketplace where people trade the weapons and items they find, everything from shoes to armor to wands, powers and potions. Similar to Magic the Gathering, you could imagine in the days of Venmo (which didn’t exist when I was in college) that there would be a decent dollar amount of some of these things; as acquiring them could expedite your leveling up at exponential rates rather than having to expend all the time. We later learned about paid player farms, where users would earn slave wages to level up and sell characters, allowing the purchaser to play the game without the frustration of dying so often. It was the first time I grasped where video games and virtual reality was going. The world was so vivid and seemingly endless, with thousands upon thousands of quests and things to discover that I grasped the addiction. To this day, aside from when I finish up a long project and need a mindless break, I never play video games. Video games have gotten so good and have taken most of the lessons from World of Warcraft and created an experience that could grab any individual. Similar to World of Warcraft, most games now operate on a reward based program; in which you earn points and “flare” for accomplishing missions or goals which allows you to buy better ingame hardware. Many governments are now trying to regulate the game designers in order to prevent them from offering too many ingame hardware purchases knowing that the game itself is addicting enough to convince young minds to spend ridiculous sums of money on seemingly worthless purchases. In the Sociology of Play class we watched the documentary Second Skin (2008) which follows a bunch of WoW and other MMO game players who had become fully addicted to the platforms. Some live in their parent’s basement, consuming junk food, and developing an entirely digital community of friends.Others have met their spouse and some find it hard to fit sleep within a full time work schedule and the need to keep on playing. An article in the Chicago Tribune explores this exact issue, highlighting how some insurance companies are starting to cover treatments for video game addictions; which, according to a clinic in Illinois, is treated the same as drugs and alcohol. As one researcher says, the difference between slot machines and video games is that the former provides hope for a big reward, while video games provide a steady and never ending stream of rewards; making me wonder if, in the long term, video games could be more damaging, as often a big win in gambling will pull someone off machine (it always has for me and my family), while a never ending (i.e., infinite) series of small wins in a video game offers no definitive conclusion. These are the ideas I wanted to be explored or at least touched upon in the film; mildly confident the film would ignore them. I was completely wrong. This movie in some way explores each and everyone of these ideas; operating with all of the philosophy and potential that the convergence between virtual reality, artificial intelligence, social media, and game play stand to provide moving forward. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Not too bad for an exposition overload Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Apples, berries - it's all the same Director: Mia Hansen-Løve Writer: Mia Hansen-Løve Cinematographer: Stéphane Fontaine Producer: Phillipe Martin and David Thion by Jon Cvack After publishing my thoughts on Claire's Knee (1971) - taking issue with Jerome’s attraction to a 16 and 17 year old girl - it’s pure coincidence that this was next film on my list. I’ve been in numerous debates about Call Me By Your Name (which I thought was one of the top three films of the year) and whether or not Oliver was a “predator”; varying from people seeing the guy as comparable to a child molester, to their relationship based upon an honest love and affection. Before proceeding, it should be noted that writer/director Mia Hansen-Løve is a woman, which at least somewhat relieves the discomfort. Most of these debates fall within two categories: 1) the age of consent and what it should be, and 2) whether an individual can be of a mature enough mind at the time. My opinion is that there’s a range of maturity that befalls most age ranges. Some are far more intelligent, aware, or psychologically more mature their than peers. In saying that, seeing that the age of Goodbye, First Love’s main character Camille (Lola Créton) is 15 I was again creeped out until I checked the laws of France which accommodate the relationship. The film opens up with a fully nude and post coital Camille, joined by her 19 year old boyfriend Sullivan (Sebastian Urzendowsky) as they cuddle in each other’s arms. Sullivan is days away from leaving for his 10-month backpacking trip through South America, refusing to take Camille with him and devastating her in the process. Their relationship was regressed to what seems like nothing beyond sex and fighting. Camille’s mother is concerned she’s too young for Sullivan, hoping that the trip breaks them up for good. The pair spend some time in at Camille’s mountain home, where Sullivan and her have a lovely day together until, on the way to the grocery store, Sullivan stops to swim at the pond, coming back to Camille who’s enraged, hoping it he could just stay forever. Most people have either been in or have had a friend in a relationship like this; in which the only time the couple is not fighting is when they’re not speaking; leading to hackneyed jokes such as that sex must be fantastic which are only cheap because they’re often, at least, partially true; whether on both sides, or one. In this case, Chamille possesses a strong care - possibly love - for Sullivan; willing to submit to his advances time after time, no matter how mad she is. Sullivan, on the other hand, is far more interested in the sex. Still he has a certain attraction. Similar to how Camille's love might be disguised desire for someone to care for her (I believe there was a missing or negligent father mentioned), Sullivan’s love was based upon an intimate relationship with another prson; possibly even his first love (that is, first good sex). The letters continue for a few months while Camille waits at home; checking the mailbox obsessively until she finally gets the call from Sullivan who tries to explain that he’s breaking up with her; unsure if he’ll ever return from South America. The news is devastating and Camille’s heart shatters. For anyone that’s had their heart broken, it’s always difficult for a movie to demonstrate the ever important relief which is time. I was even surprised to see that this film advances four years into the future, with Camille now in architectural college, falling in love with her professor Lorenz (Magne Håvard-Brekke); who must be five years past twice her age and leaning more in the father role. Another four years later, she’s about to move in with the professor, having graduated college, and become a project manager at his firm. Leaving work one day, she sees Sullivan’s mom on the bus, wondering when he returned. The mom gives Camille the number and the two meet up. Immediately Camille’s old feelings return and they start hanging out on a regular basis. Although lying to Lorenz, she still moves in with him, fleecing to him about trips and late night dinners with her friends, all in an effort to meet up and make love to Sullivan. The deceit culminates in Camille having a miscarriage, begging Lorenz to promise they’ll one day have a child. Still the relationship continues, and Camille invites Sullivan back her and Lorenz’s place in order where Camille gives Sullivan a painting of a couple and their child. Days later, Sullivan leaves once again; offering nothing more than a note to Camille, telling her that he loves so much that it causes him pain; for as much as he wants to provide Camille the family she wants, he can’t. Camille’s heart shatters once again and she returns once more to Lorenz. I’m not sure what it is about first loves that kick the obsession into overdrive. Every friend I know who’s gotten that first girlfriend fell victim to dropping off the face of the earth and spending every waking moment with that person. It seems a mixture of both sex, maturity (in the sense of the incredibly real feelings, previously unknown), and connecting with another person for the first time. Looking back on my first love, I think I felt alienated for being a weird personin school; finding a similarly weird and attractive person that provided both sex and connecting. I recall being with my father on vacation; having forever been embarrassed to talk to my parents about relationships, even into high school. There’s no doubt that, similar to the film, my parents saw what was coming. The details of the situation would require pages to explain, as each individual story fails to capture what the entirety explains. She was dealing with some significant personal issues and pushed people away, and I thought - like others - that I could help her. Then again, I wonder if it was me and that my obsessive mind smothered the situation; as Camille’s did toward Sullivan. I recall a distinct feeling both times it ended. When I broke up with her in high school for refusing to end things with her ex-boyfriend, I had excitement and pride in abandoning a bad situation; and being able to return to my own life. When round two resumed in college, I recall feeling even more alone, alienated, and even doubtful about my future (my first year of college was one of the most miserable social experiences I recall as a teenager;). This might have contributed to our reunion. Like Camille happened to see Sullivan’s mother, I received a message one night from the girl. We had gone two years without either seeing or talking to each other, though again the connection resume. Similar to the film (and first time I saw her), there was an immediate desire to reconnect, and so began one of the most emotionally intense and volatile nine month periods of life, as I rekindled an old romance which seemed like it could finally work, while I was four months away from leaving for Boston to start film school. Similarities to this film are striking. The relationship crashed and burned as suspicions began on both our ends - hers against me for having once broken up with her and now leaving again; and mine as she, again, just couldn’t seem to sever ties with her various relationships; not so much cheating as keeping them in her life, giving them the impression that I would soon get; that things would ultimately work out. Like them, as I became more focused on the relationship, I had little life beyond it; abandoning friends, family, and all logic. There was a fight almost every day, extending for days before a brief respite and the next one would start. I’m not sure what was said to be the last time we saw each other so much as that it was a spring day; possibly cloudy. I’ve never talked to her since. I always wonder what it’d feel like to see her again. Now being in love and engaged to an incredible woman in which we share a beautiful and healthy relationship in which fights are seldom, affection is strong, conversation goes for hours and hours, and honesty serves as one of the pillars - I wonder if there’d be anything beyond indifference. I have a doubt I’d see her as just a person rather than someone who played such a significant role in my life. There isn’t hate on my end, as for all the misery, it was an experience that has enriched my life, providing an experience that only I - and me alone - can ever possibly reflect upon and fully comprehend. A movie like this makes you remember those moments; as the memory begins to sunset, taking up less and less space as better and healthier memories enter the mind. BELOW: We all been there Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  jlaw! Director: Darren Aronofsky Writer: Darren Aronofsky Cinematographer: Matthew Libatique Producer: Scott Franklin and Ari Handel by Jon Cvack I often say it while writing about most Luis Bunuel’s films, but what I resent most about surrealism is that it relies on subjectivity whenever an explanation is absent or short. I often imagine a conversation with a filmmaker like Jodorowsky - whose The Holy Mountain (1973) I actually enjoyed (El Topo (1970) not so much) - in which I can discuss the hypocrisy of some religious sects and how they’ve been hijacked by moneyed interests and I’m sure he’d agree and we could, but of which the other 40% of that film would likely be utter metaphysical nonsense (more or less confirmed in a book of his I read “The Spiritual Journey of Jodorowsky”; not to mention he has a book entitled Psychomagic: The Transformative Power of Shamanic Psychotherapy). I assume if we were to talk about these metaphysical ideas I’d either have been bend my critical thinking skills to the breaking point, or I’d have to concede that I don’t understand; to which he could then say my ignorance is why I don’t understand. A different argument is the images and scenes are open to any interpretation whatsoever and it’s up the individual experience, but if done well, most traditional narratives could provide the same exact experience without alienating audiences by falling too far into abstraction. My friend said it best in that either people hated this movie or loved it; most of the former. My friend gave the example of walking into a bathroom afterward and hearing two men taking a piss while one yelled in rage, “What the fuck was that about?”. It’s easy to laugh at, but if you’re not expecting this, hoping for a more traditional Jennifer Lawrence story, I’d understand the frustration. That’s $15 down the drain if you weren’t expecting this going in. I had heard it had something to do with the environment and watched a YouTube explanation video which I suggest watching below. Essentially, Jennifer Lawrence represents mother-earth, Javier Bardem is Him (God), Ed Harris a man (lower case), and Michelle Pfeiffer is woman (lower case), who have two sons serving as Cain and Abel. The film starts at year zero, in a strange house that’s being renovated, mostly by mother while Him works on his writing. Man then comes, woman follows, they have a kid and one kills the other and people begin pouring in, Him \ writes a poem that gains worldwide approbation. Mother later gets pregnant and more people start to arrive, including armed police guards and the military, until mother has the baby via some type of Jesus figure which is stolen, mangled, and eaten as the body of Christ (again this is from the video), until the house burns and they all die and it starts all over again. That is, we’re destroying the Earth with reckless disregard, and in some Nietzschean sense, doomed to forever repeat the sequence. I don’t disagree with much from the video; though not hearing the details prior to watching, I have a bit different experience with Him and mother. Aside from the cryptic setting is a strong gender dynamic at play - mother is preparing her house for a family, as while not yet pregnant, clearly preparing herself for birth, while the husband is determined to create his own baby through his work. In this case the mother believes purpose - or even immortality - is produced through a child, the husband believes it’s produced through his work. Yada yada yada as the story progresses and Him finds success, it creates a national uproar. As all artists hope for, the work literally changes the world, causing riots in the street and mass political upheaval. Jennifer Lawrence on The Hollywood Roundtable mentioned Aronofsky's obsession over the reviews (they dated for a bit), reading everything and getting torn up about the spectrum of opinion. I couldn’t help wondering if there was a bit of Aronofsky in Him.* However, I’m not all that sure on how to connect the rest of it; other than some broader claim about man’s inherent desire to achieve immortality through work versus a woman being able to achieve immortality through giving life. If the environmental interpretation is correct - which seems close enough - I am left wondering what it’s meant to offer. Warnings about the environment are urgent enough to demand grabbing the attention of as many as possible, so then what is the purpose of telling this story this way? I’m left wondering, if like Jodorowsky, Aronofsky requires something so personal that only a few could ever know the true meaning. *Strange enough PTA would explore a similar tortured artist in Phantom Thread (one of my favorite films of the year) BELOW: Abstraction explained 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 cast that prevents the film from going too far down the comedy hole (while getting right up to the precipice) Director: Armando Iannucci Writer: Armando Iannucci, David Schneider, and Ian Martin; La Mort de Staline by Fabien Nury and Thierry Robin Cinematographer: Zac Nicholson Producer: Yann Zenou, Laurent Zeitoun, Nicolas Duval Adassovsky, and Kevin Loader by Jon Cvack An old professor of mine who taught the first philosophy class I’ve ever taken inspired me to go to major in the subject. The class was Intro to Existentialism and one of the best assignments I experienced in college was taking the ideas we learned and applying them to a list of films the professor assembled, inspiring me to major in the subject. Years later, I came across the professor on Facebook. I believe his first message to me was “Woah” and although I was in my mid twenties or so, I still felt a deferential attitude toward the man who would enter into brilliant tangents about politics and state of the world, remaining calm and collected, speaking against the excesses of capitalism and neoliberalism. I was happy to show him my film Road to the Well (2016), which he said he enjoyed. A few months ago, he started a Facebook film appreciation page, inviting about eight or so other students and friends. The flavors are a bit obscure, often making me feel embarrassed over how little I’ve seen of 1920s silent German cinema. During one of the discussions, someone mentioned The Death of Stalin and without a second thought I knew I needed to see it as soon as possible. Recently I read the biography "Stalin: Court of the Red Tsar" (2003) which, having a gross ignorance of Soviet history, the biography shed light on how terrifying the individual was; in which gross mistrust and paranoia prevented anyone from feeling safe. Over 20 million people died during Stalin’s Great Purge and the government was truly led by what oftentimes reads like children who are sick with power and drowning in wealth. I haven’t seen Armando Iannucci’s In the Loop (2009) since it came out, and while I’ve enjoyed the few episodes I’ve seen of "Veep" I’ve never dug too far into the series. Nevertheless, the idea of his voice combined with Stalin’s reign was fascinating. The Death of Stalin takes place the moments before and after Stalin’s death, as he’s left with the remaining eight or so members of his cabinet, a couple of whom are about to be executed that night or later in the week. Kruschev (Steve Buscemi ), Lavrentiy Beria (Lavrentiy Beria), and Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) and the various other cabinet members all scramble to position themselves most favorably in succession. The primary feud is between Beria and Kruschev, who attempt to gain the upper-hand through a game of wit. The film opens at a concert where two radio operators received an order from Stalin to record the show, even though it’s about to end. For a bit I was thinking it was another smart and sharp brown comedy; not too light, but not that dark. The characters felt the same way; with Buscemi and Tambor feeling as such strange choices for such despicable characters that I was nervous the whole thing would never take the Soviet Union serious enough. Near my house is a restaurant called Solidarity and it has a secret back room decorated in the hammer and sickle insignia across the walls. Anne Applebaum in her book "Gulag" (2003) mentions the hypocrisy on the left for refusing to acknowledge Stalin’s systematic murder of 40 million people; we excuse people displaying their memorabilia when they were collectively more murderous than the Nazis. The last thing we needed was a film to make light of Stalin's reign of terror and just as I was expecting it to head in that direction, it shifted, capturing how dark and horrible his rule was, with both Buscemi and Tambor fading into their characters unlike anything I’ve ever seen - either of their other work, or from any other more prominent actor. It’s one of the finest political satires I’ve ever seen. The eight people comprise the governing committee after Stalin’s death. While Malenko serves as the face of the state, Lavrentiy Beria controls committee, forcing Kruschev to manage Stalin’s funeral while Beria institutes Kruschev's more liberal reforms; namely ending the Great Purge. Kruschev fights back by reopening the public train lines, allowing tens of thousands of citizens to come to the city and mourn, surprising the Soviet soldiers who shoot down 1500 of them. Malenkov is then urged by the rest of the committee to provide the final vote in removing Beria, who agrees only if there’s a trial. So begins the most jarring scene of the film, in which Beria is rushed through a courtroom located in an old barn, sentenced within seconds, and in a terrifying POV, taken out to the courtyard and shot through the head. It’s been awhile since I read the Stalin book, but what I most remember is how juvenile and paranoid the entire story was, providing endless sycophancy, lies, and betrayal amongst a bunch of men acting like teenagers, ruling the country with absolutely no regard for any life beyond their own. Combined with the mass killings, it’s difficult to comprehend unless you get the detailed account. The comparisons are clear. We can laugh at Donald Trump and the things he does and says; the trolling and disdain for what anyone thinks. Now imagine if he was willing to indiscriminately slaughter tens of millions of human lives. Nothing different about Trump personally; just this horrifying addition. That is just the beginning of what Stalin was like. What the film does a fantastic job of capturing is that lust for power, and the utter corruption absolute power contains. In some ways, none of the men even had a choice, as by that point - with Molotov on the kill list - it’s only a matter of time before they would all get the bullet. The conclusions demonstrates the speed in which happens. One moment on top and only minutes later dead before you even hear the gunshot. It makes you think back to that silly opening scene, realizing that the lightheartedness was the entire point; helping to demonstrate the terror beneath the surface. It’s rare for a satire to take such a grim reversal and that’s why this might go down as the greatest since Dr. Strangelove (1964). BELOW: Tambor's greatest role Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Steve James Cinematographer: Tom Bergmann Producer: Mark Mitten and Julie Goldman by Jon Cvack Working my way through the 2017 Best Documentary Oscar nominees, I was excited to see Frontline get a nomination, which is by far the greatest docu-series and one of the most underrated television programs in existence. This story is about the one banker from the ‘08 crash that actually went to jail - an elderly Chinese man from a small community bank in New York City’s Chinatown. What Frontline does so well is shed fairly objective light onto complex topics; interviewing a range of legitimate participants and experts in order to best explain the story. While a few episodes are two-parters and others no longer than twenty minutes, most are around 55 minutes in length, which as HBO helped demonstrate, is the perfect length for a show. Abacus isn’t at all a bad movie, but its hour and a half runtime does make you appreciate the briefer format; making you wish that maybe other episodes were awarded the longer run time. The story focuses on the owner and main character of the story Thomas Sung who was so inspired by Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) that he decided to pursue banking. Sung was educated at an Ivy League school, received his law degree, and while able to choose whatever lucrative Wall Street career he wanted, decided to go back to Chinatown to open up a bank and help his community. The place is co-run by his two executive daughters Vera and Jill, while the third younger daughter Chanterelle Sung has been clerking at the District Attorney’s office, who would soon be the ones to press charges. What we see is that the family is like any other, with the sisters arguing over one another, drowning out the youngest while Thomas tries to moderate the discussion. His wife Hwei Lin is uninterested in any of the operations, often serving as the one rational voice (or two, if anyone listened to Chanterelle). The exact accusation is a bit confusing, but essentially, like the mega banks, there were employees at Abacus Federal Savings Bank that were approving loans for under qualified individuals. My dad was also a community banker (now retired) and so I’m confident in explaining the situation in which there were two versions of the stories. The Federal National Mortgage Association (aka Fannie Mae) is a government sponsored, publicly traded company that allows bank mortgages to be rolled up into securities, purchased by other larger banks and insurance companies and be traded on the market while providing profit and limited risk to the bank. During the Clinton era, the qualifications were lowered in order to stimulate housing purchases by the lower-middle to lower class citizens. Thus there are two arguments to be made 1) that these standards shouldn’t have been pushed by the government, and therefore indirectly forced banks to make bad loans (reason being, if banks didn’t extend loans to less qualified individuals they couldn’t remain competitive in the market), or 2) that the banks themselves shouldn’t have granted these loans to people they knew couldn’t pay them back. My view is that it’s a combination of two - the qualifications were lowered, but greed also played in a role in officers turning a blind eye toward grossly unqualified applicants. Of course, I recommend The Big Short (2015) for a far better breakdown. As an example, Thomas Sung mentions how many in the community (i.e., street vendors) might not have the income to qualify, but given the culture of Chinese People, per tradition others would help out - such as family and friends; entities that can’t be directly reflected on the paper. Thus, some of Thomas Sung’s employees might have been willing to overlooked members of the community who failed to qualify for loans, and therefore were granting federally backed loans to individuals they knew wouldn’t pay back the money, getting them the benefits of rolling these mortgages into securities even with poor financial health. It poses a great question as to why New York City government decided to pick on the Sungs rather than the megabanks down the street, but what I think the filmmakers also suggest is that it doesn’t necessarily mean that Thomas Sung is innocent. It’s here that the film gets lost in the details, as we hear the court transcripts while looking at the courtroom drawings. What I enjoy about the film is that the filmmakers (of Hoop Dreams (1994) fame) don’t necessarily let the Sungs off the hook. Personally, I think that much of the defense sounded suspicious (there are, after all, 180 criminal counts), especially when the defense showed silly diagrams about where the nefarious employees sat and why it would have precluded Thomas or any of his daughters from ever knowing about the loan approvals. I couldn’t help but think if I heard or saw a similar defense from JP Morgan or Chase. By the very nature of being in charge, especially in such a relatively small place, I find it hard to believe that they could not have known about it; as I would use the same logic extended at the large institutions would fail the smell test. Whoever’s in charge should be at fault and to simply blame the lower employees is wrong. It creates a fascinating dilemma - on the one hand it seems the government was going after some low hanging fruit with at least borderline racist intent, and on the other, if you believe that the bankers responsible for the 2008 financial crisis should have gone to jail, then this institution deserves to be investigated. Abacus granted loans to get the liquidity from Fannie Mae to remain competitive, essentially aiding in creating junk bonds. They should not have been who the government went after, but for the same reason I don’t think any bank should be too big to jail, I don’t think any other should be too small. To defend otherwise is to say there are exceptions and that it’s a bit more complicated, it’s this exact defense that allowed the big banks to walk away unscathed. Difference being that they could afford the lawyers and the small banks couldn’t. Doesn’t necessarily mean any of them should go free. BELOW: Decent overview of the characters Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
Categories
All
© Jonathan Cvack and Yellow Barrel, 2015 - 2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jon Cvack and Yellow Barrel with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
|
RSS Feed