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.

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.