The Shape of Water

The Shape of Water

(Slight spoilers. I don't give away anything that the trailer doesn't give away, but boy was that a spoilery trailer.)

Sometimes my expectations can get the best of me. Normally I'm not one to overhype movies for myself, but I really love unlikely romances (Her, Punch-Drunk Love, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind are some of my very favorite movies), and the prospect of Guillermo Del Toro telling an odd fantasy-romance tale was a very exciting prospect for me. Add this amazing cast, the overwhelmingly positive reviews, and the coupling of a mute woman and a fishman and I'm all in. But then I was disappointed. The problem, for me, is that the movie gives as much time to its contrived and silly subplots as it does its actually unique and interesting central romance plot, which causes the movie to feel weirdly paced and unbalanced.

If you happened to read my Star Wars: The Last Jedi review, you'll know that a big problem I had with that movie was that there was way too much time spent on side missions instead of Rey, the central protagonist. Well, that happened again. Michael Shannon, Richard Jenkins, and Michael Stuhlbarg all have their own side stories that end up getting a lot of screen time. This would be alright in a different kind of film (most Charlie Kaufman and Paul Thomas Anderson films are about a center premise causing a wide ripple effect over several characters), but in a romance where the two lovers are so odd and engaging, there's really no need for all these other side quests. Plus it doesn't help that these lower-letter stories are not even that interesting to begin with.

Michael Shannon is a completely one-dimensional villain who was transparently made for audiences to boo at, and what's worse is that he's not even that menacing. The villain in Pan's Labyrinth is irredeemable as well, but he makes up for it by being a horrifying monster. Shannon's character, while undeniably psychotic by the end, starts off as racist and sexist, but in a weirdly held-back way, as if Del Toro was afraid of coming off as racist himself by writing the character. I know Tarantino is excessive in his use of racial slurs, but Hans Landa and Calvin Candie are superb racist villains because they're completely uninhibited in their views. Shannon says things like "your people" and says some sexually explicit things to Elisa, but that's about it. Del Toro needed to pick a lane, whether it be a character who's empathetic and human, or a terrifying monster, and drive it all the way down. Meanwhile, Michael Stuhlbarg's communist side story goes absolutely nowhere. He could've just been a regular scientist with a heart and there wouldn't need to be so much precious time devoted to awkward, uninteresting scenes between him and some nonthreatening Russians. Richard Jenkins is delightful in his performance, but again, his story is one that's been done many times before and there's really nothing new added to it. He pines after a guy who works at a pie shop in what is essentially just William H. Macy's story in Magnolia but less interesting, and all it leads to is realizing that in the 1960's a lot of white people were racist, which, yeah. There's a couple different times the civil rights movement is mentioned, and I suppose the connection is supposed to be that black people are trying to prove their humanity in the same way that Elisa is trying to prove Fishman's, but again, it doesn't really serve the story and ends up just being distracting because the civil rights movement is a much bigger deal than anyone else's problems in this movie.

I know I'm being harsh, but I'm just annoyed at what I felt like was a squandered opportunity to make something truly beautiful. Now let me talk about the good things. Elisa and Fishman such a fascinating couple that there's really no need to focus on other people in order to maintain interest. Sally Hawkins is so expressive and charming and Doug Jones brings so much life to what is essentially just the Creature from the Black Lagoon that they're immediately likable and sympathetic. I love that neither of them can speak and therefore must express their love through music and visuals, because film is a visual medium and so many romance films tend to be just sitting and talking. It reminds me of something like City Lights, where dialogue isn't necessary to convey a connection. I also love many aspects of the world that Del Toro has created. I love that Elisa lives above a gorgeous movie theater (which I wish had a lot more screen time. When she finds Fishman watching the movie I got very emotional.), and the production design in general is absolutely perfect. The colors are rich and beautiful, and the heavy use of water creates an even greater sense of wonder. The music, whether it be the score or the selected songs, is also perfectly fitting to the whimsical world of the film. All of the acting is great, even when the characters are underwritten, because Del Toro had all the right actors in mind when writing the screenplay. I also really like how casually the film handles sexuality, not letting it have any sort of stigma, whether it's Elisa and Fishman or just Elisa. If I were forced to give a thumbs up/thumbs down, it actually would be a thumbs up, because of the romance and the unique world, it would just be a very slight thumbs up because of all the other stuff.

Now, I like to try and think of ways to fix movies that I feel have problems, because otherwise I'm just sitting around complaining about things without actually being constructive at all. While I'm sure I'm oversimplifying the solution on this one, I'd really like to see a cut of this film with only the scenes that feature Elisa and/or Fishman. It would give the film so much more focus and would probably fix a lot of its pacing issues. It would cause the film to probably be about 45 minutes shorter, but perhaps that time could be spent having more scenes that build and explore the connection between the two lovers. Let's see the movie that this deserved to be.

I'd still recommend this movie (again, slight thumbs up), but just know that there's gonna be a lot of time spent on stuff that doesn't really matter.

Lady Macbeth

Lady Macbeth

I really like the recent trend of short, spare, small-budget indie movies (it's certainly a welcome breath of fresh air from all of the two-and-a-half hour huge-budget franchise films) and while I don't love this movie there's still elements that I liked.

The first hour or so is essentially what I wanted The Beguiled to be: a movie about women taking back their sexuality. Katherine, the protagonist, is immediately seen as sympathetic when she's wed to a selfish man who treats her terribly. When he leaves for a few days, Katherine begins an affair with one of the workers on her estate, and because there's that built-in sympathy the cheating feels justified. While the film never gets too graphic or detailed, it certainly doesn't shy away from its subject matter and makes it very clear that Katherine is finally getting what she wants. Watching a female protagonist take control instead of moping around feeling sorry for herself is very satisfying in general, but it's particularly rare and interesting in the case of sexuality. Hopefully there can be more filmmakers that are unafraid to tell this kind of story in the future But again, this is the first hour.

From here the film takes a very dark turn and only gets darker from there. While I understand this is a sort of classic tragedy story, the direction this character goes in somewhat takes away from her journey at the beginning. It becomes less of a feminist tale and more of a lady-going-crazy tale, with the former being what I feel is the more interesting and important story for this time in the world. I would've loved to see a more natural progression of that story, but the tragic version is what they went with so there's not much point in complaining.

Florence Pugh's performance is easily the highlight of the film. She goes through every emotion there is and sticks the landing on all of them. Her character goes from brutalized to commanding to cruel, and she's not only believable through each turn but entirely convincing. She's only 21 and she's crazy talented, so if I don't see more Pugh in the coming years I will be very upset.

Much like the film itself, I'm keeping this one short and spare. See it for Pugh's performance, the cool castle set, and watching a lady go crazy.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

I'm not a die-hard Star Wars fan. The originals are forever combined with my earliest memories and I loved them dearly growing up, but I haven't seen them in a few years. The prequels were something I looked forward to as a child but now fully renounce. I thought Force Awakens was solid. I didn't like Rogue One. This is not going to be a die-hard Star Wars fan's opinion. This is the opinion of someone who judges each movie as an individual movie and is already sick and tired of all the new Star Wars movies coming out when it's only just begun.

SPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILERSPOILER

I did not love or hate this movie, but if I only had a thumbs up/thumbs down system to rate it with, it would be a thumbs down. The simplest way to to describe it is as a mixed bag. But the mix is mostly not good, and the bag is way too big. It's like a four-pound bag of Trail Mix that's almost entirely raisins.

Making a Star Wars movie is like writing a spec script for a TV show. This is where a screenwriter writes an episode of a previously existing TV series to show that they can write in their own unique voice within the specific tone of that series. So when someone is making a new Star Wars film, it's important to both have their own unique perspective on it while still keeping it grounded in the previously established tone of the Star Wars saga. For anyone calling me hypocritical for saying I judge each film individually but I'm already bringing up other Star Wars movies which means I'll inevitably compare this film to the previous films in the franchise, you're right, because Star Wars: The Last Jedi didn't really have the tone of a Star Wars movie. But that's only because it couldn't pick a tone in the first place, and instead settled for comedy that doesn't work followed by tragedy.

Humor is a big focus of modern franchise films. Force Awakens took a slight risk by having moments of humor that felt more modern than the previous Star Wars films. It doesn't always work, but sometimes it did, and either way they used it selectively. Last Jedi took a risk by having a very broad approach to its comedy and it did not work out. Right at the start of the movie there's awkward modern humor with a classic "bad reception" bit, which is then followed immediately by tons of horrible death, which is then sandwiched with Finn having an awkward tube suit thing with water that's supposed to be funny. I can keep giving examples of this sandwich effect but it just kind of repeats like this for the rest of the movie. Regularly bumping between humor and darkness doesn't make for tonal consistency, it just creates consistent inconsistency. A film like Pulp Fiction can balance humor and darkness very well, but that's because it has the same voice throughout, which allows it to smoothly slide back and forth between those two feelings. In Last Jedi it feels like hard cuts between the comedy and the tragedy, almost as if two different people were taking turns writing it. Rian Johnson is the only credited writer, but a franchise film like Last Jedi will typically have several uncredited writers do punch-ups on the script, and Johnson himself has said that a lot of the jokes in the film were added by Carrie Fisher, who I'm sure wasn't the only one who added things. It felt like too many cooks in the kitchen but then the kitchen only credited one cook for the giant mess they all made.

This movie is two and a half hours long, and there's a real easy half-hour to cut, if not more. The easiest thing to cut is what everyone seems to agree on: Finn's casino side-quest. It's pointless, unnecessary to the plot, needlessly preachy, completely unfitting within the Star Wars universe, and undeniably prequels-esque. This is all true, but for me it felt like the entire second act needed to be funneled down into two simple stories with an occasional visit to the dark side. Star Wars films have very straightforward story lines that divide into two and then become one again. It's very basic storytelling, but simplicity is a huge part of the universal appeal of Star Wars. In Last Jedi the plot is divided into three or four stories which causes the bigger stories to be too small and the smaller stories to be too big. All the time devoted to Finn's casino adventure takes time away from Rey's story with Luke which causes it to feel rushed and unsatisfying. Give Rey's story the majority of screen time; she's the protagonist of the Force Awakens so she should continue to be so in the next two films. As for the Finn/Poe/Rose/Laura Dern story, they should all communicate clearly and be moving forward with the Resistance in some way. There's no point in Laura Dern not telling Poe her plan, and getting a hacker to make their ship go off-radar is a good plan that they should be telling Laura Dern about. Have them all work together, and have the planet the hacker is on not be a casino but instead be something creative that would actually make sense in the Star Wars universe. The third act is solid enough and feels like the train finally gets back on its tracks, but the train was off for so long that it doesn't have the same emotional weight that it could have had. The story needed to be more streamlined.

Tone and length are my main two issues with this movie, so I'll call this the "miscellaneous paragraph for some of my other qualms" before I get into positives. I'm not normally one to notice makeup, but there were scenes where Rey had natural make-up, which makes sense because she's on a desolate island with Luke and wouldn't feel the need to bring any, but then there are other times where she's wearing full-on lipstick and mascara like she's about to go have a fun night out at the casino planet. It stuck out like a sore thumb for me. As for costumes, everything is very normal and consistent except for Snoke's golden robes that make him look like Maury Ballstein from Zoolander. How was that the final choice? The montage of Luke doing stuff on his planet and Rey following him around didn't really work. Luke's routine on this planet isn't what's interesting about the story, what's interesting is Rey's desire to learn from him and his refusal to teach her. I can't remember where this example is from, but there's a very simple montage of someone sleeping outside someone else's house until the person in the house finally allows them to come inside after they feel they've passed the test. There are more effective and creative ways to show Rey's commitment and Luke's denial that don't involve what feels like a bizarre show-and-tell of silly alien creatures. And yes, Princess Leia flying in the air is completely absurd and creates some huge problems for the next film with Fisher's passing, but more importantly it felt like a weak move. Leia not only surviving that blast without a scratch but then showing she must have some kind of connection with the force changes her character completely. Leia and Han were always an interesting foil to Luke in the original trilogy because they were both regular people who became just as big of heroes as their force-having companion and didn't require any special powers to do so. Making Leia have the force was clearly a move they planned on going forward with in the next film, but because of her untimely passing they should have just edited around this and had that explosion be her final moment. Would it have been anticlimactic for her? Sure. But it would've been effective both for story and for future film plans.

Okay, let's talk about the good stuff.

Kylo Ren is great. The more conflicted he is, the more interesting he becomes, and boy is he conflicted in this one. The connection he and Rey have is easily the most fascinating element of the entire film because it gives them a dynamic unlike one we've ever seen in the Star Wars universe before. Sure, Luke and Vader are (spoilers) father and son and therefore have a connection of their own, but the connection between Kylo Ren and Rey has a distinct vulnerability to it, due largely to the unexpected sexual tension between them. It creates a far more complicated relationship, as they're two lonely lost souls who both want what's best for the world and come so close to being on the same page but don't quite make it and are forced to part yet again. This is the new heartbeat of the trilogy, and clearly the rabbit they need to follow into the hole of the next film.

I like the gutting of some of the mystery that Force Awakens set up because they're done in a fresh and satisfying way. Rey has a big surreal moment where she almost finds out who her parents are in a vision but it goes away. Kylo Ren is the one to finally reveal who her parents are, and it turns out they're no one special at all. That's far more interesting than finding out she's related to Obi-Wan Kenobi or something. Then they kill Snoke like he's nothing, which again is a great move because Kylo Ren is clearly the more interesting villain and it's better to have more time devoted to him than to divvy it up with Snoke. It also shows that Kylo Ren hates Luke Skywalker not simply for dogmatic reasons, but because Luke actually tried to kill him back in the day. This is another nice complication that doesn't feel muddled or confusing but instead creates more tension and conflict.

The new characters are all solid and interesting. Rose is charming and likable, Benicio Del Toro brings a new flavor to the stock hacker character, and Laura Dern is dope as always. The old characters are mostly good. Finn and Poe are still their fun selves, Leia is wise, Kylo Ren is better than ever, and Domnhall Gleeson's over-the-top performance as General Hux will never stop being massively entertaining to me. Rey didn't really get enough time to convey her personality, but the complications she's going through are still interesting. Luke is definitely different now, but this was inevitable with how he was setup in Force Awakens, as someone who went into hiding instead of being a hero. This is where Yoda comes in.

Yoda coming back was a brilliant idea on paper but there's an odd thing they did with him. It's cool that he's a puppet again and it's even cool that he's silly again, since there's no need for a dour Yoda in this movie, but he calls lightning down from the sky to set a tree on fire even though he's a ghost now. This sets up Luke fighting Kylo Ren as a force-projection of himself, which wasn't something that had been previously set up as possible and honestly doesn't feel necessary. He could've just come back because he still had the X-Wing (it's underwater, but that hasn't stopped him before) and he ended up dying regardless. Sorry, I'm getting negative in the positive section. Anyways, the porgs were like barely in it, which, you know, thank God.

I had a lot of complicated thoughts about this movie, but overall I guess I'm mainly just curious as to where they're going to go from here. Again, didn't hate it, but definitely didn't love it, and if I were forced to give a feeling to this movie, it would be slight dislike. I took a little time before reviewing this one, as I wanted to make sure I had all of my points at least somewhat fleshed out before presenting them, as Star Wars has a tendency to spark passionate arguments. I've seen a few different online reviews from trusted sources and they all vary on the like/dislike spectrum, but they all come to the same conclusion of it having both good and bad elements. Hopefully the next film will be more consistent, for better or for worse.

Update: That waiting montage was from Fight Club, a movie I've seen far too many times to just go and forget. Also, Captain Phasma pointlessly shows up again to pointlessly go away again.

Update Update: It's been brought to my attention by a couple different friends that Leia is established as force-sensitive in Return of the Jedi. Again, haven't seen it in years, and that still doesn't really justify her flying around in space.

The Disaster Artist

The Disaster Artist

From the very beginning of the movie I wondered if it's required to see The Room before seeing The Disaster Artist. My final answer would be no, but I highly recommend doing at least some research. Look up a "best of The Room" compilation online or watch the Nostalgia Critic's 2009 review of it, just something that shows enough to get the performances, the characters, and the look of the movie so that the amount of effort James Franco went into making this film as accurate as possible is evident. Granted, I think everyone should see The Room regardless. I've seen it five times now.

This is a wildly entertaining movie. Right out of the gate there's laughs, and they don't stop until the movie's over. The humor comes from a few different places, mainly whenever there's a subtle nod to The Room, whenever a new unexpected famous person shows up, and the genuinely funny dialogue, performances, and visuals. Most of the movie feels like an inside joke that me and my friends were in on, but every once in a while I couldn't help but wonder if even half of it would appeal to those who aren't familiar with the source material. Luckily the screenplay was written by Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber (the guys who wrote (500) Days of Summer, one of my very favorite movies), who know how to write funny, clever dialogue and provide a solid story structure to keep everything on track. The plot is very easy to follow, the characters are clear from the get-go, and the dialogue is insanely quotable. The film is also produced by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, who are experts at telling fun, entertaining stories that can play to both large and small audiences, with this one being no exception. This is absolutely one to go see in the theater.

The performances are all wonderful, and of course James Franco is perfect as Tommy Wiseau. While he still looks like the handsome Franco from the front, every time he's in profile or wearing sunglasses it's entirely believable that he truly is Tommy. It's clear that he felt empathy for this guy, because it never quite feels like he's making fun of him, but at the same time he absolutely does not shy away from his strange, almost other-worldly way of being. Franco also reveals Tommy's ugly side, like when he's screaming at the crew or publicly embarrassing his actors and even at one point putting them in harm's way. It's an honest, checkered portrait of a man both shrouded in mystery and yet seen as nothing more than a joke. Dave Franco is likable and charming as Greg, the ultimate average guy, and is the perfect straight man to James Franco's Wiseauian antics. The supporting cast is great and will have every modern comedy fan short-circuiting (They got Nathan Fielder and all of the How Did This Get Made people in this! Come on!). There's also some nice unexpected dramatic moments from people like Judd Apatow and Paul Scheer, and some great comedy moments from people like Josh Hutcherson and Zac Efron, plus too many cameos to even name.

So even though I think the film is a little choppy and the experience often favors The Room fans over general audiences, it's still an entertaining movie that anyone who's up for a fun time can get behind.

Just remember, every time you inevitably ask yourself "Did that really happen?" Yes. All of it did.

Now, the spoilers:

While fans of The Room will obviously enjoy this movie, there are missing pieces of the story that would've made it all the better. For starters, Kyle Vogt who played Peter "had to" quit halfway through the movie, which is why he's replaced with a completely new character in the final act. He also had a concussion at one point but Tommy still made him finish his scene. This could've given us more Nathan Fielder, which I'm fairly certain everyone wants, plus it could've added more disaster. Another example is that Greg Sestero was originally just a line producer on The Room, but Tommy secretly wanted him to play Mark so he fired the other actor they had just hired then talked Greg into taking the role. That could've built even more pressure onto Greg being in the film. At the beginning of the second act there's a funny montage of actresses auditioning for Lisa before they land on Juliette Danielle, but Danielle was actually originally hired to play Lisa's friend Michelle and got Lisa after the original Lisa actress was fired because Tommy thought she was crazy. That could've made for a really great couple of scenes and given us another fun casting choice for the original Lisa. But possibly the biggest missed-opportunity of them all is not showing the actors (mainly Tommy) having to dub over all of their lines in post-production. This is an incredibly important element of The Room because it creates a bizarre dissonance in Tommy's performance that makes his character all the more alien-like, plus it could've been a really funny scene with Tommy and the crew. There's also the very end, which, though it succinctly shows The Room becoming a cult hit with the premiere scene, could've had a montage of people discovering it then showing it to their friends and watching it grow into the phenomenon that it is today.

Now of course I understand that adapting a story is like a shuttle shooting into space in that a lot of pieces have to come off for it to work, but in this case I think the film could've used a lot more scenes of the actual filming of The Room. It's the meat of the story and the main attraction of coming to see the film in the first place. They could've added an extra fifteen minutes of footage which would make the film an even two hours and given us more behind-the-scenes insanity while still keeping the focus on Tommy and Greg. All that being said though, I do understand why they would feel those elements would distract from the main story and perhaps it also wasn't in the budget.

However, there are other angles of The Room story that I hadn't even considered and love that the filmmakers explored. For example, when Greg's mom (the brilliant Megan Mullally) meets Tommy for the first time, I had an immediate feeling of dread. I thought "What would a mother think of their son being friends with a guy like Tommy Wiseau?" And sure enough, the exchange they have is tense, but it's also one of the funniest in the entire movie. Another fascinating scene is when all the actors are sitting together for lunch and they ask Claudette actress Carolyn Minnott (the underrated and also brilliant Jacki Weaver) why a woman her age would bother to wake up at 5am and come to this insane set every day. She simply replies that they're all actors and this is what they do, she doesn't even think twice about it. It's a lovely moment that I wouldn't have even thought about putting in the film. This kind of empathy to everyone involved in making The Room is a very important aspect of The Disaster Artist and in a way is truly what made it worth making.

Now I need to go read the book!

The Beguiled

The Beguiled

While the cast is great and I'm always interested in seeing a good remake (even when I haven't seen the original), what mostly made me want to see this movie is the writer/director. Sofia Coppola's films are often divisive, but no matter how one may feel about the vastly different entries in her oeuvre, it's hard to deny that each of her films are unique and fresh in their own way. The Beguiled continues this pattern of freshness and seems to be far more liked than some of Coppola's other work, such as The Bling Ring, perhaps because it prefers a subtle soft fizzle to a daring loud bang.

Probably my favorite aspect of the film is that it's a chamber piece (also known as a bottle movie), and therefore has laser-focus on the handful of characters and their predicament. The story centers around Colin Farrell, a Union soldier who's been wounded and is stranded in the deep South. A girl finds him and takes her back to her home, where several other women live, and they figure out what to do with him. The film takes place entirely in a mansion on a plantation. There aren't slaves on this plantation anymore because they've run away, (which some might rightfully see as a cop(pola)-out, but I think it works because that's not the focus of this film, and slavery is such an obviously far more important and pressing matter over whatever these horny white ladies are up to that they needed to not be there in order to keep the focus on the central story. Unfortunately that also means everyone in the entire movie is white, but hey, at least they're almost entirely women? Right?) so it's just these seven Southern females and one man trapped in a single location. This is a great setup, but I won't spoil what happens next.

The performances are excellent, with everyone committing to a downplayed realism that still clearly conveys emotion. Farrell is charming but unpredictable, Kidman carefully carries authority in every moment, Dunst is the shining example of repression and frustration, and Fanning, though she has the least amount of screen time of the four leads, still leaves an impression with her seemingly impossible mix of innocence and aggression. I'd love to see all of these people receive nominations, as well as Coppola for doing such a fine job in directing them.

The cinematography is great, with plenty of gorgeous outdoor footage of the South (I was born in Tennessee and my favorite land in Disneyland is New Orleans Square, so this is an aesthetic that pleases me), and simple but effective interior shots of this impressive mansion (which apparently belongs to Jennifer Coolidge). Because the focus is entirely on these characters who are in one location, most of what's visually interesting this movie comes in the form of blocking, much like a stage play, and the blocking in this film is done excellently.

I'll continue to keep this spoiler-free, but based on the setup and the title, it's probably easy to guess that these women and girls become charmed (or beguiled) with Colin Farrell. There is thick tension laid throughout the entirety of the movie that almost exclusively contains desire. Sexuality is a very important part of this story, but it's done subtly. Now normally I'm a huge fan of subtlety, but in this case my one complaint with this movie is that while the feeling of eroticism could usually be detected, it wasn't always actually felt. These are repressed Southern ladies who all of a sudden have a handsome man in their home. It doesn't mean they should all be going insane and constantly trying to rip all of his clothes off, but the heat could've been turned up just a bit by seeing some more interactions between them and him. Honestly, I would've liked to have seen all of these characters delved into more deeply through more interactions with each other. Establishing a stronger connection between these characters could've taken the emotions much farther and made the movie all the more engaging.

This is all I'll say without spoiling anything. I'd recommend this movie for the visuals and the performances, but know that it's subtle and, while there are a couple crazy moments, for the most part it doesn't take as many risks as it could have. Still definitely worth checking out though, especially for fans of Coppola or any of these actresses/Colin Farrell.

Okay. One spoiler.

A big thing I like about this movie is that it doesn't exactly go where one might expect it. This premise seems to clearly be a setup for the three main women to all start deceiving and backstabbing each other, but instead in the end they all team up against him (with the exception of Kirsten Dunst's character Edwina, who seems to be the most beguiled of the three). This is a fun twist and also shines a much more positive light on women who are attracted to the same person, which is normally dealt with in movies by having them fight each other. Now more than ever there needs to be films that show women supporting each other, and if they can do that in this movie, they can do that in any movie.

Good Time

Good Time

This is the only movie with Robert Pattinson that I've seen other than Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. This movie is not like Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

As a brother (as in sibling), it's always fun to see a new brother filmmaking duo show up (it'd be cool for there to be a sister duo as well, but I'm sure we'll get one soon), and the Safdie brothers seem to be a pretty unique brother filmmaking duo. I haven't seen their other films (Daddy Longlegs and Heaven Knows What) but if Good Time is any sort of basis for their style, those movies are probably pretty out-there. The way the brothers split up their roles appears to almost be random for each movie, but for this one Josh Safdie took the helm on directing and co-writing, while Benny Safdie performed as the second-billed role, helped direct, co-edited, and, possibly the craziest part, held the boom when he wasn't acting. They're clearly used to a DIY style of filmmaking that makes the griminess of the world they're exploring all the more authentic. It feels more like a tour of a bad neighborhood led by an insane person than a crafted story. In a good way.

Everyone in this movie gives a very good performance, including Robert Pattinson (who clearly loves diving into this desperate, shady role), Jennifer Jason Leigh (who's only in two scenes but is still a standout as always), Taliah Webster (who's a natural and hopefully we get to see more of), and Buddy Duress (who I simply demand we see more of), but Benny Safdie is my definite favorite because his character is so sympathetic without ever even trying. He doesn't forcefully tug on heartstrings by making sad puppy faces, he just tries his best to tough out the terrible circumstances that he's lived through and is continuing to live in because that's how he's been taught to deal with it his whole life. He's also mentally disabled, which Safdie subtly plays with care while still clearly conveying what's going on and not letting that define the character as a whole. He's the light in this dark and seedy world, and he's what really transcends the story into something more unique than a typical heist-gone-wrong movie.

The film is very Pulp Fiction-esque in that every time a door opens the story might take a completely different direction from where it seemed to be headed. I won't go into spoilers, but the movie does this a lot and if anything I wish it had done it more. I have essentially the same complaint for this film as I did with Your Name., which is that it feels like there were missed opportunities for it to go much deeper into the story and characters than it ultimately does. I wish it took even more turns, went in even weirder directions, and ultimately just shot farther than the final product ultimately did. It's still interesting and has some very memorable moments, but it had the potential to become something truly fantastic.

That being said, it's still a wild ride with some great performances and fun specifics that help it stand out from the rest of the popular "dark and gritty" movies. It's not one of my personal favorites, but it's definitely still worth a watch.

Your Name.

Your Name.

It's not often that I watch an animated film from Japan that isn't from Studio Ghibli, but I'm glad I made this exception. With gorgeous visuals, charming characters, and complex storytelling, there's simply a lot to like about this movie.

I'll say the same joke that I'm sure everyone's making about this movie, which is that this is the best adaptation of Freaky Friday/The Hot Chick/the one good season 4 episode of Community/the other Freaky Friday that anyone has ever seen. Unlike Lady Bird, which I said put an end to that specific genre (in a good way), these guys essentially opened the door to an entirely new way of looking at this specific genre. They take what's often used as a silly platform for hacky, obvious jokes and heighten it to a point where it becomes genuinely emotional and profound (and, as a bonus, its moments of humor still manage to be infinitely funnier than the entirety of those other movies). In a weird way I hope we get get at least two or three more of these body-switch movies that can dig even deeper into what Your Name. has started, which I see as a fantastic foundation.

The visuals are mesmerizing, with detailed, realistic backgrounds and seamless animation. One of my favorite aspects is the difference in how the main characters are animated depending on if they're in their own bodies or each others'. Their expressions and movements are actually different, which becomes more clear as they go through the story. There's also an incredible montage that I can't spoil the context of, but you'll know it when you see it because it's breathtaking. I also particularly love the sky in this film, and wish our sky looked more like this one. C'mon, sky. Take it up a notch.

Still not getting into spoilers, part of me feels like they could have taken this concept even further by not getting bogged down in certain details and instead going into a deeper analyzation of the characters and discovering more heart-wrenching realizations. The characters are likable, but they are somewhat light and unspecific. If they had more distinct personalities the emotional impact would hit even harder and the movie could elevate itself into something truly extraordinary. Slight spoiler for the beginning of the movie: That being said, one aspect I really liked about the way they told this story was having it begin with them already in each others' bodies. It's jarring and disorienting, but in a good way, and they still come around to telling us what these individual characters are like, light as they are.

This is a film that can be appreciated by both fans of anime and total novices, as it's a universally interesting story told with passion and detail. I recommend checking it out, and can't wait to see where someone will take this genre to next.

Swing Time

Swing Time

For film geeks, lists can be very important. They help us keep track of what we've seen, narrow down the options of what we should watch next, and give us that little feeling of satisfaction every time we check another one off. One of the most famous movie lists ever is The American Film Institute's 100 Greatest American Films of All Time, and after seeing Swing Time I only have five of those babies left to go. So, does this movie deserve to have a place on the prestigious list? Well...

I'll start by saying I like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. They're wonderful dancers and have genuinely lovely onscreen chemistry together. The only other film of theirs that I've seen is Top Hat, which threw me for a loop with its unexpected over-the-top (hat) wackiness, so I appreciated Swing Time for actually making sense and also doing a much better job of highlighting how well Astaire and Rogers work off each other. They do the classic "people who don't get along initially but end up falling love" schtick, which at that point hadn't exactly been done to death, but even if it had it still can't be argued that they had a lot of fun with it. But as fun as it is to watch them act off each other, it's their dancing that's the true star of the film. They soar across the stage with seemingly no effort, creating gorgeous movie magic together. Their dancing alone earns the film's spot on that famous AFI list.

The other aspect I like is their occasional subverting of the typical romantic comedy tropes. Sure, the boy-meets-girl-boy-loses-girl-boy-gets-girl-back formula is in full swing (time), but this (swing) time there's a couple key differences. One is that this movie has a nice symmetry to it. It opens with Astaire about to marry his fiance but ends up backing out because of a pant-cuffs-related incident, which then comes back in the end with him using this trick to keep Rogers from rudely running away with his rambunctious romantic rival Ricky Romero. But my favorite subversive moment is when he knows he's going to have to break it off with his fiance because he's in love with someone else, but right as he's about to do that she breaks up with him because she's in love with someone else. Then they both laugh about how they were unknowingly on the same page the whole time. It's weirdly refreshing, especially considering this was done in the 1930's and there are rom coms today that still aren't smart enough to try stuff like that.

Now, keeping this being made in the 1930's in mind, there's some issues with this movie. Even though Fred Astaire is supposed to be charming and likable, and for the most part he is, there's some stuff that his character does and says that are very not cool. For one, he keeps referring to Ginger Rogers as "little" ("little girl", "little teacher", etc.) and it's obnoxiously condescending. She's a grown woman with thoughts and independence (even though they have her character get engaged to Romero only because she's mad at Astaire). The other issue is that he does a huge dance number in blackface. Not only is this totally unacceptable in general, but it's also completely unnecessary to the plot of the movie. There's also a black servant character who's an obvious stereotype that shows up for a scene or two, and there's a gay stereotype character who is Roger's boss at her dance studio. I'm not giving the filmmakers the excuse of "it was a different time" because there were people who knew better back at that time. These are major flaws in the film and anyone who wants to skip it because of these flaws are totally justified in doing so.

Overall it's a light, passable, occasionally horrifically dated romantic comedy that doesn't necessarily deserve legendary status as a whole, but does have some really wonderful dance numbers.

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure

I know, I know. I have no idea how this happened either. Maybe I just never saw it at Blockbuster or Hollywood Video? Or I did but I ended up going with something else every time? I remember my dad telling me about it as a kid, but apparently I just never had the interest to sit down and watch it. So now, at 23, a friend of mine let me borrow Bill and Ted so I could see it for the very first time.

First off, Bill and Ted are really great characters. They're simple and not in any way three-dimensional, but they're so infectious and likable that they soar past that even being an issue. Their speech patterns, rhythms, and vocabulary are so specific that their legendary status was somewhat inevitable. It also helps that Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter are having so much fun playing these guys that their giddiness is almost tangible. Sure, the dumb Californian dude stereotype had been iconically explored seven years earlier in Fast Times at Ridgemont High with Jeff Spicoli, but turning that guy into two guys and then casting them in the lead roles of a wacky sci-fi adventure is still a very original concept, and these guys are far more innocent and naive than Spicoli. I will say that as someone who grew up with Wayne's World, I was shocked by how similar Wayne is to Bill and Ted. I guess there could be arguments made that he's an homage to them, or even a pathetic grown-up version of them, but regardless it's still kind of jarring. Either way, these two have certainly earned their place as an iconic duo.

As for the movie itself, I was pleasantly surprised with both how fun it is and the fact that it actually has a structure. Part of me was afraid to watch this film because I've been burned by watching classic movies that were built up too much before. A consistent example for me is movies like Animal House and Caddyshack, which don't really hold up anymore because they don't have any structure to hold them together. They were a big deal in the 70's and 80's because movies that felt like one giant party hadn't really been done before in the mainstream, but now they just seem like clips that someone is showing me from a party that I didn't get to go to and therefore have a natural disconnect from and don't really care about. Bill and Ted, on the other hand, is warm and inviting, actually follows a story structure, has setups and payoffs, is insanely quotable, and fulfills its promise of being a goofy time-travel adventure many times over, doing so not only by bringing back plenty of famous figures from history, but by also using it as a plot convenience in the funniest way possible. It's technically "dated" in that it's undoubtedly 80's, complete with bad early CGI and near-constant guitar solos, but that actually makes the film all the more fun and, in a way, a part of history in itself.

The supporting cast is great, especially the ones playing people from history. Terry Camilleri as Napoleon has a particularly funny performance, essentially doing nothing but getting pissed off at children for the whole movie. (Slight side note, I love that people like Napoleon and Socrates actually speak their native language instead of just doing goofy stereotypical accents. It makes them all the more authentic and, as fishes, takes them even farther out of water.) George Carlin is used sparingly, which isn't really necessary because he's always wonderful, but he uses what little screen time he has to be memorable and whimsical. Bill's young step-mom is sort of just there to be ogled at, but even that pays off with funny lines ("I think she was a senior when we were freshmen..."). The other example of 80's-ish treatment of female characters is when the two princesses are essentially just rewarded to Bill and Ted for saving the future, but they justify it by having them being saved from "ugly royal dudes" that were going to marry them if they didn't escape, which at least makes it a little better than other 80's movies of this nature. Joan of Arc wants to teach aerobics, which is incredibly strange, but I guess it's because she's good at fighting and therefore enjoys exercise? Or because she's Jane Wiedlin from The Go-Go's? I dunno. But at least they didn't objectify her.

There's really not a whole lot more to say about this. It's Bill and Ted. Maybe one day I'll see their Bogus Journey, but for now I am completely and surprisingly satisfied with their Excellent Adventure.

Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond

Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond

THIS is the Andy Kaufman movie I always wanted to see, and it's undeniably an Andy Kaufman movie. His essence runs through the entire documentary like a dam just broke. Jim Carrey, as Kaufman would have wanted, blurred the line between reality and performance with no regard for anyone else's concern, and while it didn't necessarily pay off big in 1999, it's certainly starting to pay off now. One of my favorite confessions current Carrey gives is that Universal withheld the behind-the-scenes footage because of their fear that he'd "look like an asshole." And while indeed he does, especially in how he treats Milos Forman and Jerry Lawler, it also shows the positive side of what that kind of commitment to a role can bring, such as giving the Kaufman family a chance to be with Andy again.

I've always felt a slight disconnect from method acting, especially in period dramas where cameras wouldn't have existed at that time (Did Daniel Day-Lewis just ignore them in most of his movies?), but for Man on the Moon it's really the only way Jim Carrey could've gone about it. I love the genuine reactions that people like Bob Zmuda, Danny DeVito, Judd Hirsch, and especially the Kaufman family had to Carrey, because none of them could deny that Andy was really back. He truly was possessed in some way or another, and watching Andy work through Jim is oddly beautiful and truly wild. But what's far more wild is Jim as Tony Clifton, a vile lounge singer character that Kaufman and Zmuda would take turns performing as, because Jim Carrey does not shy away from fully becoming this slimy, awful character. Seeing him on set as Clifton is simultaneously fun and upsetting because of how disruptive and uncooperative he is; refusing to say lines, screaming at crew members, passing out from drinking, trying to drive with a paper bag over his face, etc. It's really not surprising that the cast and crew found themselves either dreading to work with him or just having fun watching the train wreck.

I could watch old footage of Jim as Andy forever, and if that's all the movie was I'd honestly be happy, but the other fascinating element to this documentary is the modern day Jim Carrey looking back on his career at that time. He had three of his biggest hits ever in one year (Ace Ventura, The Mask, and Dumb and Dumber were all released in 1994, the year I was born) and he continued his meteoric rise for a decade, essentially ending with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. After that he wasn't forgotten, but he was no longer the number one guy. Today's Jim Carrey talks about what all of that did to him psychologically, like how he essentially lives in the real life Truman Show, but he also waxes philosophical about existence and the point to life in the first place, like how he essentially lives in the real life Truman Show. At one point he somewhat casually throws out the idea that he murdered his true identity in favor of the character that he's become famous for playing. It's very sad but also strangely comforting, as he's clearly learned a lot through the bizarre life that he's lived and he's come to a sort of bittersweet peace with himself, implying that perhaps he's finally able to resurrect the real him.

This film accomplishes what Kaufman's onscreen life seemed to be all about: showing that fame can lead to a certain form of identity crisis that can often cause a huge doubt in what is real and what existence is in the first place. 

Also, Jim Carrey and Bob Zmuda pranked the Playboy Mansion and it was really funny.

Man on the Moon

Man on the Moon

This is one of those movies that's been on my list for years but I just never found the right time to watch it. What did finally get me to sit down and watch is probably what got most other people to finally watch it: the new documentary on Netflix, Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond, which I have not seen yet but very much want to.

This movie hits a couple different weird like/dislike buttons for me, which isn't really fair from an objective perspective but I have to be honest about how this movie made me feel. I love Andy Kaufman, I've been a fan of his since I first got into watching stand up in middle school. He took the Steve Martin and Albert Brooks brand of comedy-making-fun-of-comedy and elevated it to the idea that life itself is a joke. But I also feel like people forget to take a second from analyzing him to realize that he's also just funny. Like, really funny. I'm also a big fan of films about the entertainment industry; there's a certain meta quality to them that just appeals to me. However, I don't like this kind of biopic.

Obviously there's plenty of great biopics (Goodfellas, Raging Bull, Social Network, The Elephant Man, Ed Wood, Schindler's List, Steve Jobs, etc.), but those aren't what I'm talking about. It's the glossing-over-the-entire-life biopics that I tend to have a problem with. It's an overdone formula that's often associated with Oscar fodder, and rightfully so. Films like The Theory of Everything and Hidden Figures ring false to me because not only are they putting someone's actual life into a predictable story structure, but they're not doing anything unique in terms of visual storytelling. All of those great biopics I listed are executed brilliantly because of their screenplays, performances, and direction. These directors and writers had a clear vision, were passionate about that vision, and felt a personal connection to the material, regardless of whether or not they were based on a true story or a real person. But when a biopic is told in a plain, straightforward way (which unfortunately describes the majority of Man on the Moon), it feels less like a director's creative vision and more like a Wikipedia summary. But Man on the Moon still manages to stand out from a typical biopic because of both the inevitably interesting subject of Andy Kaufman, and Jim Carrey's dedication to the role.

If decades could be run by the monarchy system, then Jim Carrey would be the king of the 1990's. Ace Ventura, The Mask, Liar Liar, Batman Forever, the man was as unstoppable as the train in Unstoppable, but unlike the train in Unstoppable, which I'm assuming eventually stops in the end, he continued to not stop even at the end of the 1990's. Man on the Moon came out in 1999, making it pre-Eternal Sunshine Jim Carrey, so most people didn't know how sad Jim Carrey could make them, but it was also post-Truman Show Jim Carrey, which meant people knew he could at least make them kind of sad. But even with Truman Show under his belt, no one could have predicted how deeply Jim Carrey would dive into this role. With the screenwriters behind Ed Wood and the director behind Amadeus, one would assume that all he'd have to do is listen to the direction and say the words. But, both because the writers and director seemed fine with putting in a TV movie's amount of effort it in, and because it's a sort of inevitable part of the job description, Carrey really became Andy Kaufman. Now again, I haven't seen the documentary yet, but I can safely say that however insane he was on set, it completely pays off in this performance. While it may feel like everyone else is just cashing a check, this is Jim Carrey's Apocalypse Now. He is so committed to bringing back the Andy Kaufman experience that he very nearly brought him back for real. There's occasional Carrey-isms here and there, but the voice and the eyes are Kaufman's and only Kaufman's. The man was possessed.

The rest of the cast caused me to have a bit of a brain-melt. So if you've gotten this far in what I already feel like is a scatter-brained review, then please, take a walk with me:

They cast Danny DeVito as Greg Shapiro. Greg Shapiro is Kaufman's manager who got him his famous role in Taxi. Is it supposed to be funny that he's offering Andy Taxi because Danny DeVito was on Taxi? Because the rest of the cast of Taxi comes back to play themselves (even though they all clearly look 20 years older), but Danny DeVito doesn't. Even Lorne Michaels gets to play himself! So if everyone else who had a part in Andy's life got to play themselves, how did DeVito get stuck playing Shapiro? I know it's technically a bigger and better part, but how could they not know that would be confusing? It's also weird because Vincent Schiavelli is in the film, and he, DeVito, and Christopher Lloyd were all in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, which was also directed by Milos Forman. Are these dots supposed to be connected? Is this supposed to be a treat for people in the know? Because I'm in the know and for me it's just very confusing. Also, Norm MacDonald plays Michael Richards in the infamous Fridays incident, but this movie was made right after Seinfeld and before the Laugh Factory breakdown so why couldn't Richards just play himself? Everyone else gets to! Except Danny DeVito!

There's also tiny cameos that really stick out if you know the actors, like Mary Lynn Rajskub and David Koechner, but the absolute weirdest is Patton Oswalt because for some reason they dress him up like Joe Dirt even though the guy he's at a table with gets to look normal. What's even weirder is that Courtney Love plays Andy's wife, because I had no idea it was her for the entire movie, either because she wasn't in her usual rocker attire or because I just chose to mentally block that it was her because she murdered Kurt Cobain. All of the supporting actors do a perfectly good job though, they just sort of wrinkled my brain (with the exception of Paul Giamatti, who is great as always and who's casting was not at all confusing to me).

I should probably be alarmed by how stressful I found these trivial details to be, but I'll skip to the "overall" portion of this review because I think everything's been made fairly clear in terms of my opinion. Jim Carrey has a brilliant, possible career-best performance in a pretty generic biopic that honestly feels more like an HBO movie than a theatrical release. It has some memorable moments, but those memorable moments are just recreations of real-life memorable moments that were far more interesting in real life, so I don't really know what anything is anymore. Maybe the documentary can make sense of all of this.

Coco

Coco

I'm going to talk about this film in order of the things that happened once the actual trailers started playing.

Animated films are great to see in the theater, especially movies like Coco, because they're rich in visual detail and the eyes constantly have things to look at. But I hate seeing animated films in the theater because of the trailers that come before them. In a way it's almost nice because it's a reminder that Disney and Pixar films are of such a substantially higher quality than any other American animation studio, even when they're not that good, but it's also horrible because these trailers are horrible. Farting. So much farting. I'm not anti-farting, I think it's a comedy tool that can be elevated to pure artistry in films like Blazing Saddles and Swiss Army Man, but in these cheap, unthoughtful, cynical animated rip-offs they are used purely in place of creativity. And now, a trend in bad animated films almost worse than farting, is twerking. Twerking in children's films is a thing now. In the sequel to Gnomeo and Juliet, Gnomeo and Juliet: Johnny Depp Needs to Pay for His Divorce by Any Means Possible, there is a bare-assed gnome grinding and twerking in the most deeply sexual way possible for what felt like hours. I'll never unsee that, but I believe I managed to block at least two other trailers. The other two I recall were for Paddington 2, which is called Paddington 2, and what seems like a very menacing and creepy adaptation of Peter Rabbit. Then finally the Pixar short started.

Olaf's Frozen Adventure is not a Pixar short. Pixar's shorts are a staple of their films, it's a chance for upcoming animators within the studio to showcase their talents and creativity, and everyone loves them. These shorts are almost always a highlight of going to see a Pixar movie, and sometimes they're even better than the movie that follows. This is not one of those scenarios. Olaf's Frozen Adventure is very bland and very long. There are six songs in it. Six. And I can't remember any of them. I'm not even someone who hates Frozen, I think it's a good movie and it has good, memorable songs. This doesn't. It has a handful of laughs, mainly from Olaf, who's a character that I keep forgetting is actually subversive to the obnoxious comic relief characters that people have really come to hate ever since Jar Jar tipped the scale, mainly because Olaf's humor comes from quietly pointing out odd things, not screaming constantly like everyone expects him to do. The ending is kind of sweet, but that's about the only memorable thing in it. It celebrates everyone having their own weird holiday traditions, and it has some funny observations about it, but nothing particularly unique or interesting. It's just kind of there. Overall I thought this short was a waste of time, but it didn't offend me. Then it ended. Then something else happened.

Maybe this is exclusively at AMC theaters, since that's where I saw it, but after the short was over there was another thing that wasn't the movie. It was a quick behind the scenes look of the movie. I thought I was having a stroke. It felt like how Disney VHS's would have behind the scenes specials automatically play after the movie was over, only this time it happened before the movie. I had never had this experience before, so I was briefly losing my mind. They showed how they made the landscapes and whatnot, then told us all to enjoy the movie. So, now that we had their permission to enjoy it, the movie finally started. Forty minutes after I had sat down.

Coco was a refreshing turn for Pixar. With the exception of Inside Out, which is my favorite Pixar movie, they've been on a downhill slide for a while now. What was once considered the end-all-be-all of animation is now becoming a sequel/prequel churning cash cow that's losing its creative steam. But Coco is a breath of fresh air from all of that nonsense. It's no Inside Out, but it's undeniably fun, imaginative, and emotional.

What immediately sets it apart from other Pixar films is that the characters sing songs in this. One of the original laws that Pixar laid down when they were figuring out ways to distance themselves from Disney was not having the characters sing, but I'm very glad they broke this rule because it becomes the emotional key to the film. While I'll admit I have a hard time recalling the actual tunes to the songs, they certainly left an impact on me while I watching the film. They got Robert and Kristin Anderson-Lopez to do the songs, so it only makes sense that they're good.

The characters are solid. Miguel is a very likable, wide-eyed protagonist, Hector is a charismatic and charming guide, and all of Miguel's family members, both living and dead, are distinct and funny in their own ways. They're all fun to watch, but I don't think any of them are delved very deeply into, except for a couple, but I won't go into any spoilers.

The other huge aspect of this movie is the culture that it's representing. Aside from Book of Life (which I still haven't seen), there really aren't any other big animated movies focusing on Mexican culture. Coco focuses very specifically on traditions surrounding family and the dead, but there are lots of little nods to other parts of Mexican culture that were certainly appreciated by the largely hispanic audience I saw it with here in California. It never feels like they go into stereotypes or make generalizations, they just have fun with the traditional lore, atmosphere, and location of Mexico. It's also nice that almost all of the cast is hispanic, as I could certainly see other animated studios not caring as much and just having famous white people do bad accents. Oh, speaking of which, I just remembered one of the other trailers was for Ferdinand starring John Cena.

Story-wise, it follows the classic Joseph Campbell Hero's Journey structure, as most Pixar films do, but it still comes with some fun surprises. The first and third acts are easily the strongest parts of the film, with the second act being solid, but never quite going as far or wild as they could have. It's still quite good, but the other two acts are so much better that it made me question why they didn't beef up the second act even more to match the rest, especially since one of the biggest rules of screenwriting is that a movie lives in the second act. Again though, it was still good, just not as good as I think it could have been.

The takeaway here is that Coco is an original, fun, funny, heartfelt, and deeply emotional film that's absolutely worth seeing on the big screen. It's not my new favorite Pixar movie, but it would probably make the top ten. Take your family, you'll all have a ball. But feel free to show up to the movie thirty minutes late, because everything before the actual start of the movie is just not worth sitting through.

Edge of Tomorrow

Edge of Tomorrow

Hearing that it was surprisingly good didn't seem to change my mind when this huge sci-fi/action Tom Cruise film came out in 2014, I still didn't care enough to go see it. Honestly, the only reason I saw it three years later is because it came up in a writer's intensive that I recently joined and it became an assignment.

The film is sci-fi war Groundhog Day, and it's very open about that (which it should be, because it's a great idea). It's slightly different in that Tom Cruise actually needs to die every day, otherwise the aliens that are looking through his eyes will find out the military's plans. This is easily the coolest concept in the movie, and because the people in charge of making the movie knew that, they went all-out with it. It starts as a funny montage, but the more depressing existential aspects start to weigh in as well. They don't really talk about all of the different realities that Tom Cruise is creating by doing this, but that might just be my Rick and Morty brain complaining.

The other cool thing this movie has going for it is Tom Cruise's character. Not because he's a fully fleshed-out, interesting, three-dimensional character, because he's not, but because his character isn't supposed to be a soldier. Having Tom Cruise in a movie is distracting, especially when he's playing an action hero but he looks and sounds like Tom Cruise the whole time. But in this movie, his character is just supposed to be a talking head that the military uses to spin stories on the news for them, like a campaign manager. So when he's told he has to do actual combat, he's terrified and bad at it. It's only through having to relive the same day over and over that he actually becomes a good fighter.

Emily Blunt is pretty cool in the movie, though for as much as she's built up it would've been nice to see her getting to fight a little more than she actually did. There's several points where Tom Cruise saves her, which makes sense in the story and is softened by the fact that she taught him everything, but it's still a little obnoxious to see, especially when it's Tom Cruise getting all the kills and not her, the actual badass soldier. It just would've been cool to see her take the driver's seat more often, though again she's more of a Yoda/Mr. Miyagi character than the action hero, but also she's established as an action hero at the beginning of the movie so actually I don't know anymore.

The action is alright, mainly just typical PG-13 violence and stunts that might have been choreographed well but are hard to see due to shaky cam and dirt flying everywhere. The sci-fi is pretty bland as well, since the "mimics" they're fighting just look like evil spaghetti and the thing they're trying to destroy is just a big mcguffin. There's hardly any creativity or originality aside from the big, main premise of the movie.

I really don't have much else to say on this one, overall it's definitely a few notches above typical big, dumb summer blockbusters, but not enough to reach into the great sci-fi action pantheon of films like T2: Judgement Day or The Matrix. It'll never be a classic, but it's also a fun one to check out and turn the old brain off.

Lady Bird

Lady Bird

After Jaws we no longer needed shark movies, and after Lady Bird we no longer need quirky-indie-high-school movies. It doesn't mean a 3D sequel or one with Michael Caine wouldn't be cool, it just isn't necessary.

The trend of this specific genre got big with Napoleon Dynamite and Juno, which are both good at representing the high school experience in their own respects, but Lady Bird doesn't feel like a crafted story, it feels like a collection of memories. Everything about it is natural and authentic, which, based on the evidence of her previous work, seems to be something Greta Gerwig can achieve effortlessly. Whether she's acting, writing, or now directing, Gerwig is completely incapable of being disingenuous. I won't go as far as to say the dialogue seems improvised, as it's often very witty and concise, but it's performed so naturally by the actors that it's very easy to believe it's all real. Gerwig also avoided the temptation of casting herself, which is admirable but also a little disappointing, as she'd fit so well in this world she's created.

The performances are all wonderful. Saoirse Ronan is clearly having a ball as this character, which is very refreshing to see, as she's usually in more dour, serious roles. Thanks to Gerwig's writing she goes through a full range of emotions and performance styles, and thanks to Ronan she nails all of it. Laurie Metcalf is deeply familiar as Lady Bird's mother, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders as it only gets heavier, but still managing to be funny and charming all the way through. Hopefully this film will give her the recognition she deserves. All of the supporting cast, young and old, are both memorable and interesting, and they all get laughs.

Without getting into any spoilers, I'll say the film ends a little abruptly, but it's still satisfying. Other than that my only complaint would be that it made me look back on my own high school experience and realize how safe and uneventful it was, and how I regret not taking more risks and living life more fully. Thanks a lot, movie.

I highly recommend checking this movie out. It's positive and funny, but it's also real to a level that no other quirky-indie-high-school movie has gotten to before. See it in a theater if you can, it's great with a crowd and you'll be supporting independent film which is always good. If your friends want to go watch Justice League ironically, try convincing them to see this instead.

The Killing of a Sacred Deer

The Killing of a Sacred Deer

As a huge fan of both Dogtooth and The Lobster, I've been very much looking forward to seeing Yorgos Lanthimos' newest movie. I went in knowing it was going to be twisted based on both Lanthimos' previous work and what both critics and the stars of the film were saying (Colin Farrell admitted to feeling sick after reading the script). What I didn't expect was for this to be most outright funny of the three Lanthimos films I've seen.

The Lobster and Dogtooth are both classified as "comedies" by the filmmaker himself, and while both certainly have absurdist qualities I can't quite say I was laughing aloud at either of them. But Killing of a Sacred Deer, a film about brutal revenge and family turning on each other, actually had me laughing fairly often. The actual revenge plot of the film doesn't really get started until about halfway through the movie, with the first half being devoted entirely to setup. Not just the setup of the characters and the setting, but the incredibly specific tone that a Lanthimos movie has, which is kind of like a Kubrick film if the emotions were replaced with robotic politeness, dry self-awareness, and good old fashioned irony. An example without giving anything away is a scene where Colin Farrell screams at a door for a minute, threatening to break it down, and then ultimately just walks away. The joke isn't obvious, I wasn't told when to laugh, one could argue whether it's even a "joke" or not, but laughter just crept up on me. The humor is probably the strongest element of the film. As far as the actual plot and characters go, that's where it gets a lot more complicated.

As I said, I went in expecting to enjoy this film and am already familiar with the specific style and deliberate pacing of Lanthimos' films, but this was one where I often found myself wondering "Why are we still on this scene?" or "Why haven't we cut yet?" or "Why is this important?" At a certain point it felt like something of an endurance test, which I admittedly enjoyed, but there were a lot of places where it felt like trimming would've been fine if not better for the film as a whole. This is particularly true of the first half, which feels less like it's moving forward and more like it's soaking for an unnecessary amount of time. It's arguable that that's the entire point of the first half, to really spend time investing in these characters before the brutality kicks in, but the issue there is that these characters aren't very interesting.

Through they purposefully speak without emotion, Lanthimos' characters still have distinct personalities in Dogtooth and The Lobster. The characters in The Lobster are so clear that just opening a scene with two who hadn't met yet immediately floods the brain with implications and expectations. But in Killing of a Sacred Deer it just isn't the same, and it's in no way a fault of the actors. Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman are great, as are the young actors (Raffey Kassidy, Barry Keoghan, and Sunny Suljic) who nail the Lanthimos style shockingly well, and Alicia Silverstone is only in two scenes but is hilariously heartbreaking in both of them. No, the performances aren't the issue, it's simply that the characters weren't written with strong personalities. Kassidy, Silverstone, and Keoghan are the exceptions to this, since their characters have clear goals and traits, but the same can't really be said for the rest. Farrell's a family man who's taken to his limits, but there isn't much beyond that. There's a darker side to him that's implied when he's intimate with his wife, but that doesn't really go anywhere. Kidman is essentially the same as Farrell's character only more controlled, and Suljic is just a young boy, nothing much more. It causes a certain level of detachment, which some might be grateful for, considering the more disturbing content, but for me it just meant being less invested in the story.

I was consistently engaged throughout the movie because of the visuals, the performances, and the humor, but ultimately I don't think this is one I would watch again. However, this movie not doing it for me doesn't mean I'm not still incredibly excited for the next Lanthimos film, it just means I might be a bit more trepidatious before seeing it.

A Ghost Story

A Ghost Story

If you ever wanted to know how long you can watch Rooney Mara eat pie for, boy do I have the movie for you.

This was one of the most critically acclaimed films of the year, so naturally I was curious to see it. I didn't want to support it in the theater because of Casey Affleck's experience with sexual harassment, so I waited for it come out on the Netflix DVD because I'm 85 years old and still have that. I almost wish I had seen it in the theater simply for the reactions the audience might have to the avalanche of pretentiousness that is this movie.

Spoilers ahead.

For me, the definition of "pretentious" when it comes to art is that the artist thinks their piece is far more interesting and important than it actually is. This movie is a perfect example of that. The concept is simple: a man dies and his ghost is now stuck in his house and watches as his wife moves on and the house goes through different stages. There's also kinda time travel. I don't know.

The concept for the film excited me, as the first act seemed to set up a series of vignettes as we see different people and events within the house. Instead we get two groups who move in: one average family with a single mom, where nothing really happens except Ghostfleck freaks out and throws stuff everywhere, which causes the family to leave, and then we see a house party full of people in their mid-30's who wax philosophical like they're high college students who think they're in a Linklater movie. After that the house gets demolished, becomes a big building, and then Ghostfleck is suddenly back in time and watches pioneers settle there, who then get killed by Native Americans, then eventually the house gets built again and Ghostfleck watches Rooney Mara and Alivefleck move into the house again. I guess it's supposed to be kinda like the end of Donnie Darko? Again, I don't know.

The way this movie was filmed is best described as "self-indulgent." There are many, many static long takes while something barely interesting is taking place. There's roughly 10 minutes of Rooney Mara crying and eating pie, and that's honestly the most interesting long take in the entire movie because it actually shows someone feeling an emotion. It clearly wants to be like Her or a Stanley Kubrick/Terrence Malick film, where existence and humanity are pondered and there are many long takes, but in those films the long takes actually have meaning behind them. There's multiple-minute shots of just Joaquin Phoenix's face in Her because it's supposed to emphasize his loneliness, and in the films of Malick and Kubrick they're typically used to convey the grandness of the setting. In A Ghost Story it almost feels like a younger sibling filmmaker trying to copy their older sibling filmmaker by using the same deliberate pacing and camera style as them, but ultimately not understanding the substance behind the style. Not to be too harsh, but it feels a lot like a college student was given a professional cast and crew and all the student had to do was write the screenplay and tell the crew what kind of shots they wanted.

As far as the performances go, Rooney Mara is great as always, even though she isn't given much to work with, but I can't understand a word Casey Affleck says in the entire movie. Luckily he only has like 10 lines, but I still couldn't tell what any of them were. I loved Manchester by the Sea and I could understand him in that, but in this it's all mumbles. The guy delivering the pretentious speech at the party was okay, and he's really the only other character in the movie. Everyone else is almost treated more as props rather than characters. There's one ghost who lives next door to Ghostfleck who probably has the most powerful line in the film (spoken only in subtitles), after being asked who it's looking for, it responds "I don't remember." That's a nice insight into the life of a ghost, and honestly makes it a more memorable character than anyone else in the movie.

I really don't have a lot more to say on this one, other than I was fairly disappointed. The whole thing rang false to me, but that makes it a good reminder to make sure that style always has substance to back it up.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

So far, this is my favorite film of the year.

Written and directed by Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths), this tells the deceivingly simple story of a mother, Mildred Hayes, who puts up three billboards outside her small town of Ebbing, Missouri, which out the police for still not having found her daughter's murderer.

I have a much harder time writing positive reviews than I do negative, which probably says a lot about me as a person, but I'll try and say as much about this movie as I can without doing any spoilers.

Frances McDormand has always been a favorite of mine, and while she'll forever be immortalized as Marge Gunderson, I think Mildred Hayes could very well be her second role that's worthy of this legendary status. Certainly not as (Minnesota) nice as Marge, Mildred is a tough, unpredictable, brutal woman who is hellbent on justice for her daughter and will settle for absolutely nothing less. She has such a strong motivation that it would be very easy, and potentially even crowd-pleasing, to just have her go on a Charles Bronson/Mel Gibson/Liam Neeson-esque killing rampage and have that be the end of it. But that's a major element of this film: justice is not simple, and justice through violence will always have a consequence. Mildred deals more and more with the ripple effect of consequences that these billboards create, but she never backs down or softens her motivation, she just finds a new way to approach it each time. I expect some major awards for McDormand. Not that those matter. But still.

The rest of the cast is fantastic, with Woody Harrelson being as charmingly Woody Harrelson as ever and getting to read some of the best letters I've ever heard in a movie, Peter Dinklage using what little screen time he has to get some of the biggest laughs in the film, John Hawkes adding a layer of humanity to an otherwise total bastard, Abbie Cornish adding an edge to an otherwise standard wife character, and Caleb Landry Jones who's been around for longer than I realized but after seeing Get Out, Twin Peaks, Florida Project, and this, he clearly has both amazing range and an amazing agent. While all of these actors nail it, the other standout performance of the film is from the always wonderful Sam Rockwell, who effortlessly plays an unstable, dimwitted, violent, openly racist cop, and gives a performance so strong that he can go back and forth between being utterly contemptible and sweet and sympathetic at the drop of a hat. I'd love to see a supporting actor nomination for him as well. Again though. Totally doesn't matter. But still.

The cinematography is subtle, as it's letting the actors and the screenplay have the spotlight, but it's sneakily brilliant and often deepens the emotional impact that is consistently felt throughout the film. There's also a captivating long-take sequence that doesn't feel indulgent but instead adds to both the suddenness and the brutality of the moment. There's also some truly gorgeous landscape shots, which is inevitable when shooting this part of the country.

While the cast and the visuals are top-notch, the best aspect of the film is the screenplay. Martin McDonagh is not only a gifted screenwriter, made obvious to the world through In Bruges, but he's also a wildly successful playwright, being the first since Shakespeare to have four different plays running simultaneously in the West End. Three Billboards is the perfect marriage between playwriting and screenwriting. Dialogue rules this film, with plenty of monologues and witty back and forths, but it always feels grounded in reality and never feels as though it's something those people couldn't be capable of thinking up on the spot. It's not like 30 Rock or Friends, where no one could actually be that witty in real life, it's instead based on truthful observations and poured into the specific mold of each character so carefully that you don't even question their perfectly chosen words. The characters are so strong and clear that their shadows linger long after the movie is finished, which, on top of the somewhat episodic style of the storytelling, left me wanting an extended, mini-series version of this film. I truly could have sat and watched this movie all day if that's how long it was.

I don't know if I touched enough on how this film deals with consequences, which is almost done in a Michael Haneke, Funny Games style (just without the actual punishing and shaming of the audience), but that ultimately creates the entire tone of the film. There are often moments that are built up to an inevitably violent conclusion that don't end up going that way, and there also moments where the exact opposite is the case. Through the treatment of potential consequences the entire film becomes consistently unpredictable, which is what makes it so refreshing for me. I never truly knew where it was going to go because of the well-established tone and nature of the movie. Some critics felt that there were tonal inconsistencies, which I think may somewhat harken back to this element of the film, in addition to the wonderful dark humor that's a signature of McDonagh's work, but I'm inclined to think they're wrong. The tone of this film is consistent through its inconsistency, its unpredictability, and its perfect balance of comedy and tragedy. If this had been a show, which again, I'm convinced it could have been, it would almost be easy to write a spec for simply based on the strength of the tone and the characters.

Okay that's about as much as I can go into without spoiling anything. So overall, I really liked this movie. Not sure if it's necessarily an all-time favorite, but it definitely gets a solid number one spot for the year so far. Please go see it. Support any nearby movie theater playing it, because it plays great with an audience.

If you've already seen the movie then I'll tell you the one little complaint I have:

Brief Spoiler

There's a scene that I would've cut. The scene where the suspicious guy comes to Mildred's gift shop and talks about how maybe he raped and murdered her daughter but he didn't. I'm assuming this scene exists to set him up for when he comes back later, but I don't think it was necessary. I actually think the later scene where he's in the bar would've been a lot more powerful if we hadn't seen him before. It would've tied into Woody Harrelson's earlier line about how the guy will accidentally get caught by bragging in a much purer way. The gift shop scene also isn't even that well-written or interesting, especially in comparison to the rest of the film, so it could've easily been cut.

Also, even though it was funny, I think I would've cut Mildred kicking the high schoolers on the simple basis that there was never a consequence for it, which goes against what the film had so brilliantly set up.

Anyways, other than that it's honestly kinda perfect. Hope you saw the movie before reading that.