 Very bummed that we have yet to see more from Evan Bird Director: David Cronenberg Writer: Bruce Wagner Cinematographer: Peter Suschitzky Producer: Saïd Ben Saïd, Martin Katz, and Michel Merkt by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Drifting back to Benjie and Agatha, we witness a family that similarly covets fame and fortunes. Christina, Dr. Safford, and Benjie are all hustling to make as much money as possible, with Safford riding his son’s coattails to help fuel his foray into pseudo psychology. Yet it’s Benjie and Evan Bird’s phenomenal performance that steals the entire show; seeing him with his fellow friends of fame, talking about sex as though a bunch of bros in a college fraternity, with periodic commentary about how much they’re earning from their latest role, absent of any discussion of craft or creative satisfaction. In one of the films greatest scenes involving a gun and a magic bullet, abiding by the same surrealistic style that extends throughout the scene, Benjie nearly shoots one of his friends, thinking - and with us seeing - he emptied the bullets, placing the gun against his head and pulling the trigger, before pointing it toward his friend, about to fire, instead aiming for the dog, firing and killing the animal. Agatha’s story is even more bizarre, as she returns to LA to meet up with her family that paid for her to stay away. In a morbid scene, as the mother welcomes her back, Dr. Safford comes home and begins beating her in the stomach. Given that the children are products of an incestuous marriage, we can’t help thinking that rather than more traditional mental consequences, the effects have impacted the children’s sense of right and wrong. Agatha’s attempt to commit arson and kill her brother is never fully explained, other than it was based on schizophrenic tendencies - which soon begin to infect Benjie, causing him to see the ghosts of some of the girl he met in the hospital who died shortly after. I’m not a big of hallucinatory sequences, though this film mildly improves the exhausted trope. Benjie and Havana's morbid past and increasing hallucinations help with Cronenberg’s commentary on what brings people out to LA. While not everyone is dealing with some extravagant skeletons, it’s safe to say that most people who make the pilgrimage are attempting to escape something - whether from their family, friends (or lack of), or community. Many were the outcasts of their school, struggling to find a place where they belong, until they arrive, meeting other dreamers and artists who were equally passionate enough to leave it all behind. Having read a bit of Freud and Erich Fromm over the last few months, and their frequent analysis of the Oedipal Complex, it’s easy to see the parallels, especially with how the gross number of Cronenberg’s films explore the profound depths of psychology (eventually making a movie about Freud back in 2011 called A Dangerous Method). While I can grasp the academic interest, I find modern adaptations of these stories really lacking. I’m not sure what else there’s left to explore with these ideas; along with the fact that most don’t adapt well in modern times. Incest has become such an extreme taboo in present times that suspending disbelief is near impossible, distracting us from the ideas expected to be derived. For a movie I was expecting to be on the lower end of Cronenberg’s filmography, I was blown away. It’s not his best, positioned right in the middle, but leaving you anxious to return to other pieces of his work. Every time I finish one of his better films I seem to find the man more interesting. In terms of mainstream directors, I think he’s one of the most underrated, with people too quickly dismissing his work as bizarre and weird than attempting to unpack the fascinating ideas he’s exploring. BELOW: Another great scene from Moore Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Her best role yet Director: David Cronenberg Writer: Bruce Wagner Cinematographer: Peter Suschitzky Producer: Saïd Ben Saïd, Martin Katz, and Michel Merkt by Jon Cvack Beyond my mother, I honestly don’t know anyone who’s seen Still Alice, in which Julianne Moore won the Best Actress Oscar. The performance is good and deserving, though more in the Tropic Thunder-sense with the idea of going “full retard”; that is, the very design of the an Alzheimer's performance immediately positioned the part for Oscar contention and it was about finding the strongest player - which Moore clearly was. Up until Maps to the Stars, Moore’s best role has been in Boogie Nights and Short Cuts ('93); that is, until this film, which is not just kind of better, but by far her greatest role of all time, playing a washed up mid-50s actress Havana Segrand and providing one of the most complex and engaging characters I’ve seen from this decade. I find Cronenberg one of the most interesting filmmakers out there, exploring some dark and heavy territory, diving deep into psychological issues having to do with sex, violence, and often incest. With the exception of Fast Company ('79) and M. Butterfly ('93), I’ve devoured all his work. One of my favorites elements about his work is the exceptionally simple and natural style. I can’t lay my finger precisely on what gives a Cronenberg film its exact feel, but like any great filmmaker, I know I'm watching one of his films within moments. The story follows four brilliant characters - starting with the arrival of Agatha Weiss (Mia Wasikowska) who wears two long black leather gloves to cover up the burns on her arms, which extend up and onto her face, partially shaded by her hair. She hires limo driver Jerome Fontana (Robert Pattinson) - an aspiring actor/screenwriter. Agatha is the brother of child superstar Benjie Weiss (Evan Bird) and daughter of Dr. Stafford (John Cusack) and and Cristina Weiss (Olivia Williams); a brother and sister who discovered their relationship long after the fact. Stafford is a charlatan quack psychologist who’s attempting to ride Benjie’s coattails while Benjie is the epitome of the "Rich & Famous" entitled brat, who we first meet at a children’s hospital, fulfilling the dying wish of one of his fans. He vows to get her an iPad (Mini) so she can watch his movies and then mistakenly gets the little girl’s disease wrong, leading him to berate his “faggot Jew” agent in the middle of the city streets. As with the greatest characters, Evan Bird’s had the unique ability to make me first despise his character, finding him nearly insufferable, only to evolve and gain my empathy for each subsequent scene. What I was most excited about was to see Cronenberg’s view of Los Angeles, bringing all of his darkness and analysis to a city of dreamers. Having recently watched La La Land ('16) and having liked “Love” on Netflix (which does a pretty good job of capturing the city), I’ve always wanted to see the darker side presented. The sad reality of living out here is that few people grasp is the vast majority of dreamers out here will fail - they didn’t get the part, they didn’t get the job, they didn't get into the festival or competition. The city largely revolves around social capital - where success is as much dependent on your social value as much more than any type of merit. In one scene, capturing the city’s spirit, while Jerome drives Agatha, she explains that she happens to be good friends Carrie Fisher, who she met on Twitter when Carrie wanted to ask a burn victim some questions. One of the most unbearable aspects of living out here is when you meet the name droppers who proceed to tell you how well they know X, Y, and Z celebrity, when you’re fairly certain these celebrities would have no clue who they are. Cronenberg zeroes on this moment by focusing on Jerome who’s heard it a thousand times before - except that Agatha actually does know Carrie Fisher (who plays herself), having met her on Twitter exactly as she describes and it’s Carrie who gets Agatha the job with Havana. It’s all so surreal, and yet works exactly the way things operate out here. Havana has been going after a part for a remake of a movie that earned her mother an Oscar Nomination. We watch as she talks to everyone she knows, hitting up producers and agents, mentioning the favors that she’s owed. In one grueling sequence, she has a threesome with one of the producers and another woman. It’s fairly clear that Havana is not at all interested in the act, though figuring it could help her chances, she goes as long as she can until she excuses herself. Battling between her mother and declining career, she visits Dr. Stafford who offers a weird and sadistic therapeutic session. When official word comes in that the role’s a no go, Havana has Agatha buy a smorgasbord of painkillers, anti-depressants, and anti-anxiety medication. It all seems headed downhill until, in a brilliant scene, where Agatha is loading up the $12,000 in clothing Havana just purchased, they meet the actress who got the role and her son. Another element of being out here in LA is that you very quickly learn what the term “haters” really mean - and I mean from both perspectives. This is a competitive town and when you’re all struggling to get where you want to go and it’s not going well and someone gets some success, the envy exists on a broad spectrum, with far too many letting it boil up inside, creating resentment and bitterness; causing congratulations to be offered behind a painful faux smile. With this setup in mind, and with Havana not just encountering someone that had some success, but has taken a very personal role that Havana coveted. I was blown away by Moore’s ability to embody this dynamic, feigning pride to the best of her ability. I always imagine an actor playing an actor has to be so tough, as it adds an additional layer - you are not acting as a person, but acting how an actor acts; meaning, Moore wasn’t acting like someone who’s envious, she was acting how actors act when they’re feeling envious - with that added layer of resentment. I also noticed the same skill in a smaller moment, just going to show powerful Moore’s performance was - which is when she was giving an interview on television. Although we’ve seen her feign interest, care, or love toward her friends, on television we get to see Havana act for the entire world - which was charming and lovely, without even a hint of her skeletons ever showing on the screen. Again, when you think of Moore acting like how an actor would act on a television show, it adds a complexity that makes you all the more in awe. Additionally inspiring was how much Moore committed to the appearance, gaining just enough weight where we notice and allowing the character to drift between sheer sexiness and one of the film’s most hilarious moments when Moore is constipated due to taking too much Vicodin, trying to take a shit, farting up a storm while talking to Agatha. To think that this is the same woman who in the same year played an upper class, Columbia Neurology Professor with Alzheimer's - and with equal believability - just goes to show how phenomenal this was. And so, after bathroom, when her friend who got the part’s son dies in a freak accident, dropping out of the project, Havana jumps for joy. As tragic as the story is, she finally got the part, certain that she’ll return to greatness and recover her ailing career. Stay tuned for Part 2... BELOW: Layers upon layers upon layers Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Vaughn does grow on you after a bit Director: Mel Gibson Writer: Robert Schenkkan, Randall Wallace, and Andrew Knight; The Conscientious Objector by Terry Benedict Cinematographer: Simon Duggan Producer: Bill Mechanic, David Permut, Terry Benedict, Paul Currie, Bruce Davey, Brian Oliver, William D. Johnson by Jon Cvack I had almost given up on seeing this in the theaters, that is until I watched his year’s THR’s Directors roundtable, featuring Mel Gibson who was far far more strange and fascinating than I ever would have expected. Two separate accounts led me to nearly seeing the film - one at Orlando Film Festival during some down time, though my rightful sense of guilt prevented me from seeing a mainstream Hollywood epic rather than another one of my indie brethren’s. The other was in downtown LA, showing once per day at 1:30pm, except when I finally had the opportunity to go it had been removed. Figuring I’d never see it in theaters, but then seeing the THR interview, I looked once more and found it at a bargain $3 theater up in North Hollywood. I’d never been to the place and without getting too into the details, I sincerely miss these types of theaters, which are getting closed down left and right or replaced with luxury theaters that offer nice seats for $20 tickets. This theater didn’t quite have the sticky floors, but the neon lights were abundant and the projection and sound were as good as anything else. I had heard the film contained the best battle sequences since Saving Private Ryan, having received a 10 minute standing ovation at the Venice Film Festival. Those two factors alone left me determined to see the movie in the proper setting. Yet while the film was good, it wasn’t great, with surprisingly generic choices scattered throughout the story - namely how the soldiers talked to each other and the casting of Vince Vaughn. The story centers around Desmond T. Doss (Andrew Garfield) who’s a Seventh-Day Adventist and therefore a conscientious objector who won’t even pick up a rifle, let alone kill someone in the name of war. The film opens at the Battle of Okinawa with flames blazing, bombs exploding in all directions, and dead bodies everywhere. We then cut to the distant past, with Desmond as a young boy who hits his brother in the head with a brick, leading his mother to lecture him about their Adventist beliefs; namely that murder is never justified. Years later, WWII has broken out. Refusing to avoid the war on account of his beliefs, Desmond enlists as an Infantryman in the Army. The boot camp barracks are full of the usual banter, and for how often this has been done well (Saving Private Ryan ('98), When Trumpets Fade (1998), Platoon ('86), Jarhead, Hamburger Hill (1987), "The Pacific"/"Band of Brothers"). I’m still surprised that some just can’t get the camaraderie right. Something about it all felt generic and uninspired, as ignoring its forefathers’ lessons about how to create chemistry between brothers in arms, and offering superficial glimpses and relationships. It gets all the weirder when Vince Vaughn enters the room as Sergeant Howell, doing his best R. Lee Ermey, and coming up far short in the process. I was pleased to see Gibson welcomed some of Vaughn’s sarcastic humor, rather than veering toward the officiousness we often see in these characters, but at times it felt out of place. Just as the men are about to hit up the firing range, Doss explains his pacifist values, leading to a pretty interesting conflict as the army is confronted between allowing freedom of religion versus ensuring that every man is train and ready to kill as needed. The issue is increasingly moved up the ladder, creating tension amongst the men who figure him a coward and unfit to serve. Soon Doss faces a court martial, but thanks to his father’s WWI roots and relationship to Brigadier General, Doss is excused. To think that he would have been dishonorably discharged or imprisoned if his father never stepped in seems stranger than fiction; arguably a moment of divine intervention that fits with the story’s overall themes. Doss is excused, returns back to his platoon, and they head off to the Battle of Okinawa. The entire battle sequence is pretty good, but fell way short of the new era that Gibson ushered in with Braveheart and it’s epic battle sequences. This might be attributed to the fact that - as Gibson mentioned in THR - that he had half the days and half the money from Braveheart ('95), required to shoot this entire movie in about 59 days. Still, this is about the same amount of time that Saving Private Ryan had and look at what Spielberg produced. I’m a firm believer that there were two eras of shooting gun battle scenes - those before Saving Private Ryan and those after. Hacksaw Ridge’s influence is clear, but even many scenes from "The Pacific" and "Band of Brothers" outshine this film. One problem I had was the chronic use of CGI blood and effects, which seemed completely unnecessary given how many practical effects were used in the same scenes. Worse were the battleships firing their guns, using absolutely horrendous CGI that looked better suited for a video game. Having recently had the near religious experience of seeing The Thin Red Line (1998) in a theater about six months ago, I couldn’t help feeling like it was all second rate. It was all good, but not in any way the best since Saving Private Ryan, as I think even Enemy at the Gates (2001) had more exciting sequences than Hacksaw. Still, Gibson delivers a powerful film, demonstrating that you don’t need to kill to be a hero. The fact that Doss actually saved over 75 individuals over a period of a day and a half, lowering them down by rope from the cliff is truly awe inspiring. Like Braveheart, this is the type of classic Hollywood epic that celebrates the greatness of man rather than the faults. While it took a bit to get used to (most likely because I just watched The Social Network ('10)), Andrew Garfield proved to be incredible, floating between innocent charm and great intelligence. He wasn’t the “enlightened redneck” that I think many films often create with these types of characters, and Garfield never condescends to the real Doss. What we see is a celebration of honor. As his Captain Glover (Sam Worthington) says after the great rescue mission, people may not believe in what he values, but they believe in him and how much he values what he believes. It’s a phenomenal portrayal of a man who had the courage to live with the consequences of his convictions; to not argue about what he believes, so much as demonstrate and prove what he can do. BELOW: Tough shoes to fill by everyone Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The new exciting duo Director: Damien Chazelle Writer: Damien Chazelle Cinematographer: Linus Sandgren Producer: Fred Berger, Jordan Horowitz, Gary Gilbert, and Marc Platt by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... We never get to see Mia’s performance, but living out here I was familiar with the grind. I’ve known of many actors who rent out spaces to put on a performance in order to invite a bunch of industry people, hoping they might like what they see. The sad part is that Mia’s turn out is often how it goes, with everyone having something to do at the very last minute. Due to a ridiculous photoshoot, Sebastian misses the performance, acting as the last straw for Mia, who has finally had enough, never seeing Sebastian anymore with his touring, hitting a dead end with her acting career, and believing she’s wasted the last six years of her life. Six years. It was a strange number to hear because it’s the exact number I’ve been out at the time of seeing the film. Having pursued my dream of writing and directing a movie, failing to have it open up the exact doors I thought it would, getting rejected from countless festivals and distributors, frequently thinking I want to quit because it’s so incredibly hard - I felt her frustration; as have the vast majority of people I know out here. After she moves back home and breaks things off with Sebastian, he receives a phone call from a casting director who saw her play as one of the few in the audience. He races back to her parent’s home to tell her, in which Mia gives one of the most powerful monologues about dream chasing I’ve ever heard in a film; not just the words, but the look in her eye; how bad she wants it and the way she talks about the pain. It was here that my emotions boiled up, as I recall all the times when I was at the same exact point, confiding in my girlfriend, dad, mother, and friends - expressing how much it fucking hurts to keep hearing "Sorry, but no". Six years and hitting the nail on the head, of how not just I felt, but how I often feel - this movie came at one of the most serendipitous moments in my life. Two years later, and while things are better, I'm still waiting for that call; just a few inches closer. Mia goes back for the audition, providing us with the most beautiful songs of the film. She gets the part, and her and Sebastian wrap things up at Griffith Park. Sebastian tells her that she needs to go off alone and pursue the dream. He can’t come with her because she needs to pour all of heart into it. For some reason she agrees and so the two head pursue their separate paths, each pursuing and achieving their dreams. It was here that the Whiplash philosophy of winning at any cost crept back in. The idea that after they were both with each other for so long, fighting for what they want, and now that it’s finally happened they can’t be with each other seems silly. It might have been their individual talents that got them where they needed to go, but it was their mutual encouragement that allowed them to get there to begin with - for how Sebastian’s club should look and be named, and for Mia to pursue the show at all. And so, like the climactic shootout in a western, the movie must end with the largest song and dance number, and what I think might be one of the most powerful I’ve ever seen on screen. Often times the concluding song is triumphant. La La Land’s was heartbreaking; playing as a fantastical alternate reality, similar to 25th Hour and equally tragic. We see what could have been, how Sebastian could have joined her, and played jazz in Paris while she began her acting career. Having watched a lot of Everwood and Dawson’s Creek growing up, so much of me wanted to shout at Mia to ditch the husband and go back to Sebastian, or for him to run up and kiss her. But it couldn’t happen. Such is the cost of chasing dreams. On the one hand I have a girlfriend who would never pose such a problem, and yet I have a family that I never see, who’re getting older, and at only a few weeks of seeing them per year, means I don’t have very much time left in their presence. The sacrifices don’t have to be relationships, but anything or anyone. I think that’s the part of LA that has yet to be captured and one of the saddest parts I've found out here. Whether actors, writers, or musicians, there are countless people in their 40s, 50s, and even 60s still chasing their dreams, and knowing it’s a young person’s town. They know the odds are slowly decreasing with each day. On the one hand it’s great that they’re still going and maintaining their passion, on the other I find it very sad that many won’t ever achieve them at all. So what happens when you break off a relationship with a person you love to chase your dream, only for that dream to never emerge? Is it worth it? I guess that’s another scenario; one I think is a bit too sad for musicals. Or maybe one that’s perhaps needed the most. BELOW: For all the dreamer chasers out there, this one hits ya right in the gut. Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Best of the film Director: Garth Davis Writer: Luke Davies; based on A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierley & Larry Buttrose Cinematographer: Greig Fraser Producer: Iain Canning, Angie Fielde, and Emile Sherman by Jon Cvack This was one of the earliest Oscar contending films I heard about. It actually played at a few of the film festivals Road to the Well screened at, but in one instance, the screening was during the awards show, and the other was an issue of the festival having two separate theaters a 20 minute drive from each other, learning we were at the wrong theater. I had heard some incredible things, specifically regarding Dev Patel’s performance, which is pretty good, but what starts off as one of the most beautiful films I’ve seen in years, reminiscent of Satyajit Ray's Aparajito or Jean Renoir’s The River, took a quick nose dive toward melodrama, often failing to keep logic at the forefront. The film starts with the impoverished siblings, Saroo (Sunny Pawar) and his brother Guddu (Abhisek Bharate), who scrounge around town in search of coal and other items they could sell for some money to buy additional food and treats. One night, Guddu is about to go off his journey and Saroo begging to come along. The pair end up at the train station where Guddu has Saroo stay put and sleep while Guddu goes off to do something. Saroo later wakes up with Guddu nowhere in sight. Saroo eventually ends up on a train that locks up and takes him to Calcutta. There he nearly fall victim to countless sex trade hunters who wish to steal him. Saroo ends up in an orphanage where he’s soon adopted by an Australian couple, Sue (Nicole Kidman) and John (David Wenham). It was up to this point that I was absolutely blown by all the elements. Although many are raving about Dev Patel, I think Sunny Pawar stole the entire show, providing such strong moments of depth and reflection, in which I no longer saw a little boy, but a man behind those eyes, having to maintain the courage to keep on going. This was all portrayed with Greg Fraiser’s beautiful photography and Garth Davis’ impeccable direction. Much of the story shows us information rather than telling us a thing. Like Truffaut’s great kid films, we were in the point of view of a child, discovering the world and information as a child would. With the Indian backdrop, we got to see a world that is both exotic and terrifying. However, once it moves to twenty years later, it was as though someone else took the helm. Saroo is now in his late twenties, determined to become a rich hotel owner. He meets a girl from his class Lucy (Rooney Mara), and in an awkward dance number along the street, the two end up at a party where Saroo has a breakdown when seeing some candies. He explains to everyone his story, and they tell him to use Google Earth, in which he can look up the train speeds, draw a radius, and try and find where his parents are. This all happens so quickly that it contradicts the first third’s realism. We don’t really know much about Saroo except for his professional aspirations and that his brother is a drug addict. There was also something particularly stupid about this entire Google Earth plan, in that I refuse to believe that Saroo never thought about attempting to use a map to find his parents. It was here that the movie went from masterpiece to melodrama, sacrificing logic for what they think was a much better direction in having Saroo obsess over maps, destroy his relationships, and keep clicking around Google Earth in search of a water tower. Looking at the logic, he finds a range that his train must have been in, and then finds all the towns within that range. If I’m being generous, the total number of towns is about a hundred. Considering all he has to do is look at the city, find it on Google Earth, locate the train station and then use Google Maps street view to look for a water tower, I imagine each city might take fifteen minutes to examine but to better prove my point imagine each city takes an hour. That’s about 100 hours, of course. Given that he’s clearly working on this all day and all night, with a few hours of sleep, let’s say he spends a conservative 12 hours a day doing this. It’d take him about eight days to find and examine all these cities, in which the apparent weeks and months of searching doesn’t make any sense at all. This was a similar issue I had with Truth (2015), where when the team is attempting to call about twenty names on a whiteboard, there’s a long montage extending to what looks like weeks, with each person refusing to talk when in fact, if no one’s willing to talk, you should discover the lack of progress within maybe a day or two. Of course, Saroo finds the town, done in a way that was even more upsetting, in that it was like an inch outside his search radius, meaning even though he’s using the most general trigonometric concepts, he never thought to think that maybe he should search within the margin of error. He ends up heading to his town, meeting his mother, and of course I get some tears building up, and the story ends. While some might think I’m nitpicking the search aspect, this took up what felt like over forty five minutes of the film. I kept wanting to return to India, and continue following Saroo along. Instead, we’d go back to Google Earth, some people would cry, and then an argument would start. The second half felt as though they forfeited any type of arc to get Saroo back to India as quickly as possible. I guess dealing with the fact that it’s a true a story you can’t really embellish much. It simply never returns to the strength of that first third. BELOW: Movie would never have existed without Google Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Nice costumes, I don't know Director: Robert Zemeckis Writer: Steven Knight Cinematographer: Don Burgess Producer: Graham King, Steve Starkey, and Robert Zemeckis by Jon Cvack I’m not sure what happened after 2000, yet as though infected by the new millennium, Robert Zemeckis took a tremendous nosedive. From 1980 - 1997, he directed the longest streak of back to back great films, with the Back to the Future Trilogy being arguably the most popular modern classic film of the last thirty years. Scattered around and between we have the underrated comedy Used Cars, Romancing the Stone, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, and Death Becomes Her. Forrest Gump followed soon after that. I’ve grown more comfortable saying that Contact is my favorite sci-fi film of all time. Keep in mind I’m not listing out the great films he directed during the period. These are all of the films he directed from 1980 - 1997; that’s nine home run films in a row; nine films that were not just blockbusters, but embraced by the world, becoming classic stories; an accomplishment that few of history’s greatest filmmakers achieved. Three years later after Contact there was a strange split. Zemeckis directed two films - Cast Away, where to this day Wilson has remained a cultural icon and What Lies Beneath, with Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer in a Hitchcockian thriller, which while starting strong, bombs by the last third, serving as Zemeckis’ first misstep in two decades. The Polar Express followed in 2004, Beowulf in 2007, and A Christmas Carol in 2009. The Polar Express was okay, falling victim to a book that’s just too good to be topped. I’ve never seen Beowulf, but haven’t heard anything good, and I don’t remember much from the A Christmas Carol. It would take three more years until his next live action film Flight, which I was kind of bored with, thinking it was about the whole Sully situation, which made me then think that Sully was going to be more action oriented like Flight. There is a great cut of the crash scene featuring the Interstellar soundtrack on YouTube. There are some great performances, but it just didn’t seem to be about anything, at least compared to the depth and impact of his other films. The Walk was good, and though I do wish I saw it in theaters, I actually thought that without the special effects, the documentary was much more intense. Again it didn’t leave me wanting to keep revisiting the world like his other films had. Tell you the truth, by the time I got to Allied, where I only saw it because the movie I thought was playing at a certain time was not playing, I wasn’t expecting much. I tried avoiding the preview, but walking into a packed theater late and hearing what was going on I figured this was just some throwback to a WWII romance. Seeing Zemeckis at the helm, I was hoping it’d maybe have that classic touch, pushing the genre to its limits and offer a refreshing take. Instead it all felt flat. I came across a review that was comparing Allied to Casablanca and Notorious, which is a pretty cool idea, though unfortunately not at all what’s on screen. For the most part it did have that classic style, punched up by big violence. It felt expensive and confining, leaving me unsure if the set pieces were computer generated, drawn to look like that classic 1940s style, or actual set pieces. There's not much beyond that. I didn’t want to go through the synopsis, because I didn’t really remember much of what happened; my mind was wandering so much throughout. There was a cool shootout and a sexy love making scene during a sandstorm. The ending is more surprising than I expected, but overall it just didn’t feel like anything new; as though trying to mimic the genre rather than pushing the cinematic boundaries as we've known him to do up until the new century. I'm still confident he's got another Great American Movie in him. BELOW: Whole thing's pretty much like this; giving about 60% effort Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Barry Jenkin and Terrence Winter working to subvert the stereotypes of "black masculinity" Director: Barry Jenkins Writer: Barry Jenkins Cinematographer: James Laxton Producer: Adele Romanski, Dede Gardner, and Jeremy Kleiner by Jon Cvack I had seen Berry Jenkin’s first micro budget feature Medicine for Melancholy back in college, with Wyatt Cenac either right before or just getting into his tenure at The Daily Show. It was an inspiring movie, a simple love story told well, made for around $15,000, going on to land a theatrical release. A few years ago, Steven Soderbergh gave a State of Cinema speech at San Francisco International Film Festival a few years later, disgraced with the filmmaking profit, accusing studios of being run by businessmen rather than storytellers, comparing the experience to the Board of Directors at Mercedes telling engineers how to build cars. If he was in charge, he would create a pool of low budget projects and recruit a bunch of exciting up and coming filmmakers. Berry Jenkins was one of the names he mentioned. Soderbergh wasn’t involved in Moonlight and yet its success is exactly what he was hoping for. Similar to Brokeback Mountain - which next to Goodfellas and Saving Private Ryan, experience one of the great Best Picture robberies in Oscar history - Moonlight explores masculinity. It’s told in three chapters, following a young boy Chiron Harris from the inner city who’s neglected by his drug addict mother Paul (Naomi Harris). We meet him running from some bullies and hiding out in an old apartment, when the local drug dealer Juan (Mahershala Ali) finds him, welcoming him home and providing some much needed fatherly guidance. Not knowing anyone’s sexuality, let alone the plot, what I loved most about this section was discovering the facts from Juan’s perspective; we're not exactly sure of Chiron's sexuality, only suspicious, and it's Ali's ability to both refrain from judgment while understanding the dangers that make the performance so worth of the award. The second chapter features Chiron in high school, meeting his first love Kevin Jones (André Holland). After a few bullies vow to beat Chiron up after school, Chiron meets up with Sandy who talks about getting detention for doing a girl from behind in the locker room. Sandy’s bisexuality acts as a bridge for Chiron, providing just enough fantasy to pull him over, but enough to act; perfectly capturing the passion of a first love and allowing us to forget any character’s sexuality. It all leads to the final chapter which was by far the most fascinating and beautiful of the entire film. Like Juan, Chiron is now a drug dealer, jacked to the bone with muscle, covered in platinum, with a set of teeth to match. His mother has now gotten help, as clean as she could be, still in the hospital. Chiron eventually gets in touch with Sandy, who’s been released from prison, now cooking at a diner an hour or so away. Chiron heads over, not knowing what to expect. Sandy's now living straight; a good looking man. And yet it’s Chiron, played by Trevante Rhodes in his first role ever, who provides one of the most insightful and fascinating performances of the entire film, and of the last few years of cinema overall. For all his muscles jewelry, and drug dealer look, he’s nervous. And the one person who he connects to most sees past all that. We see a mixture of timidity, nervousness, and anger, cycling throughout the scene, as the two share a bottle of wine. In the closing scene, as Terrence stands at the door, accepting that he can’t possibly have what he wants most, having the look of someone we’d never associate with these feelings, I was left with a powerful insight that has stuck with me ever since. Men too put on an appearance, whether through how they look or act, that can often cause us to become or feel categorized. There are easy labels for a variety of superficial aspects, and yet there is a long spectrum, filled with diversity and conflict. From sexuality to race, this movie challenges you to look a bit deeper at everyone you see, discovering that there’s no point in trying to place them into fine categories, as it may be one of saddest things you could ever do. BELOW: The greatest upset in Oscar history Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Very excited to see Lucas Hedges does next (minus Three Billboards) Director: Kenneth Lonergan Writer: Kenneth Lonergan Cinematographer: Producer: Matt Damon, Kimberly Steward, Chris Moore, Kevin J. Walsh, and Lauren Beck by Jon Cvack One of our leads from Road to the Well, Micah Parker, was in Kenneth Lonergan’s "This is Our Youth", which is an awesome play, all taking place in a grungy apartment as two 20-something dudes talk about all things life in the 80s, doing a bunch of drugs and drinking, with a bit of romance as well. The play was at one of those small 50 seat theaters, though Micah and the rest of the cast were so good, and the material was so great that I never thought twice about where I was. To be honest, when Micah told me it was a Kenneth Lonergan play, I didn’t recall the name. Later when I looked it up I saw that he wrote Margaret - an absolutely brilliant and beautiful film that was destroyed by petty legal battles over the material, scheduled for release in 2007, meaning it was probably done in 2006 at least, and wasn’t released until 2011. As it’s been five years, I can’t remember the details, but it was a perfect match for fans of In the Bedroom, The Ice Storm, The House of Sand and Fog, and other cerebral domestic dramas. The court case didn’t even conclude until 2007, tarnishing the film’s success. I had been hearing that Manchester by the Sea was the greatest movie of the year since it first came out at Sundance. It seemed like a return to those domestic drama days, taking place at a small eastern town. I then started hearing it was a downer, confirmed when one of the announcers at Landmark told the crowd it was a 2 hour and 20-something minute film that’s really sad. I really don’t mean to take issue, but this kind of ruined my experience with the film, as I then was expecting some deeply sad movie, far sadder than it actually was, that I kept expecting worse and worse things to happen, never really reaching the level of sadness I was anticipating. The story’s about Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck), a handyman who we eventually learn has lost his children in a fire, now separated from his wife Randi (Michelle Williams). Lee’s brother Joe has had a heart attack and died, leaving Joe’s son Patrick to Lee. I will say that looking this up, I might have misunderstood the various timelines, as memories and present day interweave throughout the story. Let’s just say I never thought about how Joe left Lee his son, entrusting him even after Lee had lost his two sons in the fire. There’s something very cool about that, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’ll need to rewatch that again, so maybe it’s that miracle film where, like I for instance (which I didn’t like upon first viewing and is now my favorite film), I’ll grow to love it. My main problem is that the characters aren’t all that interesting; as they essentially do just spend a lot of time sad. There are basically two extremes cutting together and that’s contentment and discontentment. Many moments felt flat and almost expected, like when Lee and Randi finally meet after years of not seeing each other. I’ve been trying to think of why this didn’t work for this scene, and can only chalk it up to that they were feeling exactly how I expected them to - Lee was stoic and stolid, Randi emotional and a bit desperate. I think Casey Affleck’s a great actor, but playing the Stoic Man just seems to have been done so many times by him that it felt boring to see it again within such a melancholic film. There are moments where it works well, such as the various fights with Patrick, or talking to his many girlfriends. It was all pretty good; it just wasn’t all that great. I struggle to say anymore about anybody. Everyone was presented as simple people with common melodrama problems, responding either or after these problems occurred in the ways you'd expect. When I go home for the holidays, and I meet old friends, or people I never talked to but know their faces from high school, or share holidays with my family, beginning to understand them as people, there are many who would never respond with such simple emotions. I think that goes for everywhere, with any tragedy, where you can peel back the layers and see the spectrum of emotions and responses. It’s anything but simple. Longergan never seems to peel back the layers far enough. So what does it mean that “Manchester” became “Manchester by the Sea”, where the two sides of town - middle class and upper middle class - seems to be the focus? It all felt so white and privileged; not as a deliberate message, but as a response; as though this was the most Lonergan could find for a setting when looking at the country. Combine this with flat character and it all left me wondering what the point even was. Why should I care to talk about this sad movie? Of all the amazing things to explore in the world of an imagination and all the fascinating people in this world, this is what was portrayed. It seems like such a waste of possibility - the talent, the location, the structure that could have been explored. It's not a bad film; it's even pretty good. It just didn't feel like anything new. BELOW: Their scenes are the best parts of the film Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Jeremy Saulnier Writer: Jeremy Saulnier Cinematographer: Sean Porter Producer: Neil Kopp, Victor Moyers, and Anish Savjani by Jon Cvack Green Room involves a Oregonian punk band The Ain’t Rights whose gig falls through, leaving them desperate for an alternative. They’re directed to a isolated Neo-Nazi compound in the middle of the woods; as though adding a bit of fan fiction to American History X’s Nazi warehouse and the various punk shows operating in the background. Torn between the money and their personal politics, the band decides to play the show, opening with The Dead Kennedys “Nazi Punks Fuck Off”, which doesn’t go all that well in the room full of skinheads. The band is ready to head off when lead guitarist Pat (Anton Yelchnin) forgets his cell phone, leading him back to the green room where he sees a girl stabbed to death on the floor. Ready to rush out and call the police, the bouncers keep him inside, forcing the band to return, leaving them all trapped inside...the Green Room. The punk band was well constructed, appearing believable even with the familiar faces, complete with all the desperation and determination any aspiring band possesses. I was surprised to discover that Anton Yelchnin actually died in a freak accident shortly after filming, when his car’s emergency brake slipped on a hill, pinning him against a wall, crushing his lungs in the process. He puts on such a great performance, never drifting too far from his core essence seen in Alpha Dog or Charlie Bennett, appearing as the dorky dude who discovered punk music in college, now unrecognizable by his former high school classmates. As Yelchnin often accomplished in his few roles, his character speaks volumes without saying a word, deliberating each move before its made, allowing us to believe that whatever the choice it was carefully decided. I also enjoyed seeing Alia Shawkat from Arrested Development playing the lead guitarist, forgetting her phone and setting off the entire story. Shawkat is exactly what Hollywood needs more of, playing a real and accessible female lead; a character that could take on the role of any man without distraction. I don’t think there simply needs to be more roles for women, but more roles for women that aren’t the most attractive figures in the world. Shawkat serves a great example of how powerful a role could be with limited material provided. I haven’t seen much of Arrested Development, though enough to know that Shawkat diverges from her normal character. I was sad to see her get killed off, of course replaced by the far more beautiful Imogen Poots, though I think this could have been flipped and more effective. A large selling point of this film was the fact that Patrick Stewart played the compound’s owner and head Nazi, Darcy Banker, and I have to say this was fairly disappointing. I’m not sure if it’s Stewart’s association with charm and Star Trek, or that the character didn’t have much meat to chew into, but I was left confused. It seemed like the only shock was that Patrick Stewart was playing a Neo-Nazi, rather than anything he actually did or said. And that leads to the larger problem I had with the story, in that I was simply left wanting more. I appreciated the thrills and chills, with well designed and unique characters. I just wanted more from the story. It was so plot heavy, as though the film was greenlit from logline alone - a punk band gets trapped at a Neo-Nazi compound, comes across a dead body, and has to fight their way out. That’s pretty much it. There were so many avenues never explored, failing to tap into the who, what, why, where, when. I assume the easy refute is that none of that mattered, and if I wanted a simple story I guess I could agree. Except seeing a lot of untapped talent from Saulnier, who seems to rely more on action and thrills than ensuring that the moments in between - when offered - are filled with interesting exchanges that can help you understand the story and learn more about the characters. As mentioned, the entire compound reminded me of American History X that I couldn’t help feeling deprived of info; namely, about Darcy Banker, and how/why/when a British man made it out to the Pacific Northwest in order to operate a Nazi Bar and Music Venue. It leaves far too much to the imagination. BELOW: Nazi Punks Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  The Tony Soprano of politics Director: Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg Cinematographer: Josh Kriegman Producer: Christopher Clements, Elizabeth Delaune Warren, Julie Goldman, Carolyn Hepburn, and Sean McGing by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Discussing the documentary on Slate Political Gabfest, Emily Bazelon was abhorred at the little concern Weiner had for his wife Huma Abedin, who comes across as perhaps the most authentic character in the entire film. The story takes place long after the initial sexting scandal broke out, with Weiner evidently recruiting a documentary crew to capture his return to politics, in which he’s running for Mayor. Abiding by the public’s ability to forget past scandals with lightning speed, Weiner is in a competitive position, and all is looking up for him. He’s out there declaring his commitment to fight for all New Yorkers with all of the passion and charisma that we remembered him for. That is, until news breaks that for the entire first quarter of the film he’s been sexting with a 23 year old stripper. The news goes national and Weiner begins damage control, requesting that Huma give a humiliating speech during a press conference, explaining how she forgives Anthony, regardless of a repeated offense. Of course, given Weiner’s complete lack of self-control, the press directs their attacks toward her, wondering why and how she could stay with someone who continues lying to everyone. I believe Bazelon mentioned how awful it was to see Huma in the background in most of these scenes, always attempting to be the great wife, in which Weiner repeatedly guilts her into appearing in campaign commercial videos, sticking to the script, and standing beside him. The entire situation is unbelievable and difficult to watch, especially as a third and even more disgusting scandal broke shortly after the film’s release. During one particularly revealing scene, when after the accusations break, Weiner goes on "The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell", immediately exploding at the host, trying to downplay his actions. The next day, we see him in his New York condo, watching the interview with a grin on his face, reveling in how smart and sharp he is. It becomes all the more disgusting when Huma enters the room, and he attempts to show her his performance. And there she stands once again, disappointed and sad, trying to be a good wife, never asking for anything, as her husband tries to show off his heated debate with Lawrence O’Donnell. I was left wondering how a man who seemed to have everything he wanted appeared so hellbent on self-destruction. It’s clear that he’s an exceptionally smart guy, and yet he seems willfully ignorant over what his actions could do and who they could hurt. I had trouble believing that he ever could think that his actions would remain hidden. And knowing that fact, he did it anyway, demonstrating a complete lack of self control, oblivious to the pain he’s causing. And it’s this obliviousness that is so alarming. Whether to the voters who question his honesty, reporters who keep asking if the sexting has concluded, or his wife who’s constantly on the verge of breaking down in tears, trying to hold herself together in front of everyone - that I really began to feel hate toward the man, thinking how I once saw this man as the future of progressive politics and the Democratic Party. He ignored his family and friends and all those believed in him for reasons we’ll never understand. Anthony Weiner embodies what people hate about politics; the varying personas, leaving us to wonder if perhaps the sexting-Weiner is the one genuine person there is in all this mess - addicted to the thrill of finding young, attractive and fanatical women. He is a person whose only worse addiction than sexting is his need for attention and praise. No matter how dark things get in the film, it seems he never fully grasps the extent of what he’s doing, leaving me to wonder if he even cares about the causes he triumphs. I get the sense that his liberal leanings were simply convenient; not that he’s conservative so much as adopting whatever beliefs are best suited for advancing his career. In the age of Trump, I don’t view this so much as insight into a tragic and disgusting situation as much as a forewarning; that some individuals in government and aspiring to get there do only care about themselves, embodying a selfishness that should alarm anyone. It left me wondering how many genuinely good people serve in office, and what got them there, when battling against candidates like Weiner. I’d like to think many, but the idea that someone like him could get this far; who I bet will again make a comeback for the public arena some time in the future, drowning out other good people by his connections and complete apathy. BELOW: That's one way to talk to someone Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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