Once

What Sarah said:

Once is a bittersweet romantic story between two musicians in Dublin. I really like that it feels genuine and has an unambitious story with music that gives me the shivers. There is not much else to say than this is a simply wonderful film that I thoroughly enjoyed. You need to watch it too.

Mike’s verdict:

Nothing bad happens in this movie.

Such a blunt declaration in a review would normally be decried as spoiling some mystery or diffusing tension before it can build – but in this case nothing is spoiled. Once is fantastic because nothing bad happens, and the audience deserves to know it ahead of time.

At its base, the film is an uncomplicated story about two people whose lives have intersected at precisely the right time for them to help each. It’s Ireland’s Lost in Translation.

A nameless man is approached on the street by a nameless woman, and they connect through music. Their relationship is neither Hallmark’s immediate-love, nor Hollywood’s immediate-hate/eventual-love. Instead their connection grows with an organic realism that exposes the subtleness of life. The characters are flawed, sometimes unsure of themselves, and ultimately make decisions they regret. But they are also self-reflective and forgiving. At times they over-react, but still manage to refrain from digging in behind their own stubbornness. They are individually complicated, and yet they recognize that everyone else is too. They come across as actual people rather than the symbolic archetypes that films often portray.

The film is truly engaging from start to finish, with a consistently unpredictable plot that acts as an opportunity to observe as the two lead characters learn about each other and realize their own motivations. And it is made all the more enjoyable by the backdrop of a tremendously moving soundtrack. The music is integral to the plot and has a presence that pulls the film close to the line of “musical”, but without upstaging the characters themselves. The story is not an excuse to showcase the music, rather the music is a narrative tool that helps progress the story.

There is also a delightful band of secondary characters who are clearly not the focus of the story but are important nonetheless; and all have the kind of depth that suggests additional stories to learn about, if only we had more time. An origin story for the ragtag backing band, or 24 hours with the unwitting music producer could make engaging films in their own right.

The whole supporting cast is refreshingly positive – plenty of stories would makes use of the father, the mother, the bros next door, and certainly the estranged husband, to add melodrama. But Once is free from the hurt and sadness that often characterizes compelling storytelling, and flatly rejects the tradition of devising increasingly complex ways to depict human trauma. Nobody is unrealistically insecure, everybody is encouraging, everyone is good in the way we all want people to be good.

But who expects a dramatic film in which nothing bad happens? I wish that someone had told me ahead of time that nothing bad was going to happen, because I am clearly too pessimistic to accept that a film can tell a compelling story without resorting to trauma for the characters. I spent the entire movie in anxious anticipation of the bad thing I was sure was about to happen. Bad things always happen when people are having a nice time.

But Once doesn’t need to invent tension just to get its point across – it simply presents situations. And if the viewer’s own expectations build unnecessary tension, then so be it. This is just nice movie about normally complicated people living normally complicated lives.

And it’s wonderful.

Nothing bad happens.

Just enjoy the story.

9.5/10

Sione’s Wedding

What Sarah said:

It’s been a while since I last watched this but from what I can remember it’s entertaining and funny. Not a complex story to follow along with but it’s told from a NZ/Samoan point of view which adds to its charm. I want to watch it again, so you will have to watch it with me. It is such an iconic New Zealand movie and I wonder how much of the humour and charm is appreciated by non-kiwis or does too much of it need explanation.

Mike’s verdict:

Sione’s Wedding is complete nonsense. It’s not deep. It’s not complex. It’s not even believable – there cannot possibly be real people who act like the four main characters, and the supporting roles are somehow even less realistic. The situations are contrived, the personal interactions are implausible, and the narrative is confusing. The plot certainly includes plenty of surprises, but only because there is no way for a reasonable audience to anticipate nonsense.

The film is an extension of the traditional buddy comedy film, with four buddies instead of two, and at times it’s difficult to keep track of why everyone is upset with everyone else. It feels as if the writers tried to make a feature-length film based on a four-minute improve skit, and only realized the trouble they were in after they had already taken their investors’ money. That said, they must not have needed much of a budget considering the simplicity of the sets – the most realistic aspect of the film is how plain everything looks. The characters are all bonkers, but they seem to exist in the real world.

Unfortunately, much of this criticism is likely due to my two-degrees of cultural separation. This is not a movie intended for North American audiences at all; so much of it is specific to the Samoan cultural experience as it exists in New Zealand (probably?). Even following the dialog was difficult given the accents and the fact that Kiwis use words that don’t exist anywhere else.

It’s likely unfair of me to try to align the film with Hollywood from my outsider point-of-view, but since that is what I do… Sione’s Wedding is a little bit Dumb and Dumber, a little bit Step-Brothers, and probably some Planes, Trains and Automobiles too. And why not? Jim Carrey, Will Ferrell, Leslie Nielsen, and countless others have made entire careers out of nonsense.

The film is a silly and entertaining way to spent an hour and 30 minutes. Maybe it is meant to be more than that, but it’s certainly not less.

7/10

The Menu

What Mitchell said:

I think you would like the movie The Menu. I really like how it examines the absurdity of haute cuisine and I think you would appreciate that as well. And weirdly, I would have liked to try that meal, except for the dessert.

What Jeff said:

Forget [Mitchell’s] review!

Mike’s verdict:

I’m very glad that I didn’t know anything more about the film beyond what Mitchell said – a lot of the charm comes from scenes that could be easily spoiled by knowing the premise ahead of time. So if you haven’t already seen it, stop reading now and come back after.

The Menu is an absurd, and a fantastically irreverent, criticism of anyone who can afford to be taken in by the delusion of “haute cuisine”. Serving a commentary on class conflict, the film marries the flavours of Carnage, The Cabin in the Woods, and a dash of Sideways – each delicately combined and spread atop a thin Saw wafer. It’s ridiculous and a lot of fun.

The casting makes an interesting ensemble of unlikeable side characters who collectively meet all of the stereotypes for patrons of gourmet restaurants: the washed-up actor and his unhappy assistant, the creepy old business man and his clueless wife (Judith Light is most definitely not the boss this time), the insufferably pretentious food critic and her high-flown editor, and the trio of arrogant finance boys who actually use the phrase “Do you know who we are?”.

Ralph Fiennes does a good job as the head villain chef too (though it’s still hard to see him and not think of Voldemort anyway), and Anya Taylor-Joy is quite believable as the scrapy under-dog hero. Her final play for survival is a cleverly satisfying way to resolve the story. The only mis-step is Nicholas Hoult‘s character whose choices are simply confusing.

Overall, The Menu is an entertaining way to poke fun at people who like plates of foam.

8/10

Firestarter

Who recommended this?

Firestarter wasn’t recommended by anyone. I was on a 15-ish hour flight with a limited selection of Air Canada approved options and I almost didn’t watch it anyway. In fact, Firestarter was consciously passed over during two preceding flights in my four-hop journey. The first flight included a half-hearted viewing of Ghostbusters: Afterlife, which, out of respect for the original Ghostbusters, will never be reviewed. For the second flight I chose The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and it left me in an uncharacteristically generous mood. Even so, I nearly stopped watching Firestarter thirty minutes into it. Incidentally, I don’t remember watching anything on the fourth flight… probably because it was the fourth flight.

Mike’s verdict:

At the time, I resolved to make this the first review in a new series tagged Mike Finds Meaning in Shallow Movies. It’s questionable if this actually qualifies as the first of my reviews deserving that tag and I don’t know now if such a series is even likely to emerge, but I think the intention of the tag has significance.

Firestarter is a simple, but precisely laid-out, series of tropes: Action, suspense, tension, surprise, betrayal, redemption, decision, relief, acceptance. Roll credits. On the surface this film purports only to entertain. It has all of the necessary components of a simple thriller intended to help viewers enjoy the passage of (a very short amount of) time.

I will leave it for others to judge how well (or even if) the film accomplishes that objective. But either way Firestarter does not present as a cerebral movie. The viewer must make an effort to read subtext between the lines of dialog.

And the attentive viewer will see below this surface to a potentially uncomfortable thesis.

The central core of the film, shrouded beneath a mantle of sensation, is the awkward conjunction of forgiveness that can be expressed in words, and reprieve that must be actualized. The film suggests that when you hurt someone, it is forever. They may forgive in words, in conscious thoughts, in outward actions; but they do not forget. And you do not forget. It eats at you. It degrades you. It empties you. And it leaves a facade that only looks like the person you were before; the person you wish you could still be. Firestarter reminds us that forgiven is a state of affairs that can’t ever truly be. Forgiven is nothing more than the personification of sorry.

But Firestarter does not make its thesis explicit. The viewer has to ignore the bullshit reasons that each character finds themselves in the presented situations. Moreover, the viewer is expected to think about how they would choose to act in those same situations. The plot is garbage; but the ideas are important.

Firestarter is about decisions. Real decisions. Hard decisions. Decisions that hurt other people; decisions that hurt yourself. It’s about decisions that hurt you because they hurt others, and decisions that present no acceptable options; only equally bad options.

The answer is to just burn it all down. At least, that is Firestarter’s answer.

6/10

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story

What Tristan said:

This is a great movie to go into without any expectations at all. If you roughly know Weird Al’s history, you sort of roughly know how this movie is going to go. And yet, it will not be anything like what you expect. It’s a fun movie, it’s pretty good acting, and it fits with how Weird Al wields his craft: a parody artist through and through.

Mike’s verdict:

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story is a musical comedy biopic that chronicles the rise of the legendary parody musician, “Weird Al” Yankovic. Directed by Jay Levey, the film stars Aaron Paul as Al Yankovic and features a talented ensemble cast including Mary Steenburgen, Gary Cole, and Patton Oswalt.

Right from the start, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story establishes its playful tone with a hilarious opening sequence that sets the stage for the irreverent humor that follows. The film charts Al’s journey from his humble beginnings in California to his eventual rise to fame, and along the way, it’s filled with countless comedic moments that are sure to delight fans of Yankovic’s music.

Aaron Paul gives an energetic and charismatic performance as Al, perfectly capturing the singer’s quirky personality and infectious sense of humor. The film also does an excellent job of capturing the look and feel of the different eras that Yankovic’s music has parodied over the years, from Michael Jackson‘s Thriller to Nirvana‘s Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Despite the film’s light-hearted tone, it does touch on some of the more serious aspects of Yankovic’s career, including his battles with record labels over the years. However, these moments never overshadow the film’s sense of fun, and the result is an enjoyable and entertaining biopic that will have viewers tapping their feet and humming along to the music.

Overall, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story is a joyous celebration of one of the most unique and beloved figures in pop music. It’s a film that’s sure to please fans of “Weird Al” Yankovic’s music, but it’s also an enjoyable and accessible comedy that will have broad appeal. Highly recommended!

Just kidding!

The review above is actually what you get when you ask ChatGPT:

Can you write a movie review for Weird: The Al Yankovic Story in the style of the blog at reviewmike.wordpress.com?

I thought it would be interesting to see how close the robots are to putting me out of work, but clearly, I have nothing to worry about. Leaving aside the fact that it sounds like a grade 9 book report, there are quite a lot of factual errors in the generated review. In fact, the whole second sentence is a bit of a mystery; the film was directed by Eric Appel (not Jay Levey), it stars Daniel Radcliffe as Weird Al (not Aaron Paul) , and the cast does not include Mary Steenburgen or Gary Cole. To be fair, Patton Oswalt does make an appearance but he’s not exactly the most notable actor. At least the robots got the general vibe right – it is light-hearted and sure to please fans of Yankovic’s music.

Mike’s actual verdict:

I went into this without knowing anything at all about Weird Al’s history. I know some of the songs he appropriated, and even made a bootleg cassette of one of his albums many decades ago (by placing two tape recorders next to each other, no less). But otherwise I had no expectations.

Of course it is a parody. It took far too long for me to realize that Toby Huss (as young Al’s father) was being intentionally campy rather than just a terrible actor. Eventually I figured it out, but the pure fantasy of the film’s plot was still somewhat hard to get used to. The whole story feels like it’s being recounted from the point of view of a child who can’t separate memory from daydream, and I was anticipating that by the end we’d be disappointed with a “then 10 year-old Al woke up” ending. Thankfully that didn’t happen and Daniel Radcliffe did an excellent job of not reminding me of Harry Potter.

Over all, Weird is undeniably a lot of fun. The form-factor of the film is right on point for the other musician biographies that have been released over the last few years, but of course all of the specifics are absurd. It’s quite a clever effort to do with film what Yankovic has made a career of doing with music. Silly and unpredictable, the film is a refreshing departure from the seriousness that usually plagues biopics. The fake cameos that re-imagine Yankovic’s life were particularly well done, though I did have to keep reminding myself that Evan Rachel Wood was supposed to be Madonna.

There’s not much substance to analyze, but sometimes a movie is just meant to be an enjoyable few hours. I did learn something though – I’d always just assumed that “Al” was short for “Alan”.

8/10

Hail, Caesar!

What Jeff said:

You should check out the cinematic production, Hail, Caeser!. It’s an entertaining comedy/musical and my favourite scene is the dance number with the Navy guys getting ready to ship out in a closing bar.

Mike’s verdict:

I didn’t know this was a Coen Brother’s film until the end when I checked, but I was fairly certain that it had to be one. It has the characteristically pompous cleverness that pervades (sometimes to great effect, often not) through many of the Coens’ more recent offerings.

In this case, the cleverness is a little too clever for its own good – more than once I was left trying to figure out if I had missed something, only to realize that I hadn’t missed anything at all. Somehow the film feels accidentally disjointed, as if it had a traditional flowing plot that was mixed up and pieced back together by an intern who wasn’t supposed to be in the editing room alone. To be fair, the Coens’ are known for attempting to weave stories through interconnected mini-plots – and usually they are able to strike a decent balance between confusion and entertainment. But Hail, Caeser! misses the mark. Much like Burn After Reading, it has a proper story that each act is meant to contribute to (I think), but those acts are so disjointed and patchy that they come across more like the vignettes in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. In fact, it is easy to draw a line of increasing vignette-ification through the three films, but Hail, Caeser! really fails to pull it all together at the end.

I’ll accept this film as a learning exercise on the way the Buster Scruggs, but there’s a reason nobody gets points for “showing the work” once high school math class is finished.

The film isn’t all bad. Ralph Fiennes, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, and Jonah Hill each give convincing and entertaining performances. They are all completely forgettable and feel like pieces of 4 unrelated puzzles, but in the moment they are definitely entertaining. George Clooney was good too, but his portrayal of a confused actor seemed a little too on the nose – like he read the script and knew that none of it made any sense, but the Coens’ were offering enough money. Scarlett Johansson‘s segment is by far the stand-out performance, unfortunately it has no bearing on the plot at all.

To address Jeff’s favourite part, I agree that Channing Tatum‘s musical number is a bit of a highlight – mainly because it’s fun to laugh at Channing Tatum. Unfortunately, it’s way, way, way too long. It’s more than 5 minutes! Even real musicals don’t make the audience listen to the same song for that long. It goes on so long that I actually got tired of laughing at Channing Tatum. I didn’t even think that was possible.

But the biggest disappointment is Josh Brolin‘s lead character. Brolin does a fantastic job of playing the secretly stressed Hollywood ‘fixer’, but the character is really hard to identify with. The film sets up a central tension for Brolin’s character to make a decision on, but the right choice is so clear that it’s hard to understand why he would even need to consider it. And in the end he chooses wrong.

Despite all of the entertaining components, I was ready for the film to be over long before it was. And when we did reach the end too much was left disconnected.

6/10

Bend it Like Beckham

What Sarah said:

I really liked this. A funny, feel good movie that isn’t deep or complex. The music stands out as a lasting memory that I have of this movie. Yes the story is predicable and not new but it’s done well. Even though I’m not a fan of Keira Knightley and especially of her character in this I still really enjoyed it.

(After re-watching this film, Sarah rescinded the entire recommendation which had been based on recollections of a past self. But I had to watch it, so it’s getting reviewed anyway.)

Mike’s verdict:

Bend It Like Beckham is so much the stereotypical coming of age story, that it is basically every possible coming of age story all at once. In less than two hours, the film attempts to incorporate:

• middle-class “hardship”,
• “wasted” physical talent,
• jealousy,
• strict immigrant parents,
• a clueless soccer-mom,
• an ineffectual father,
• ruining a sibling’s wedding and then saving it,
• unreasonable cultural expectations,
• unreasonable gender expectations,
• blatant homophobia,
• blatant sexism,
• blatant racism,
• depression,
• embarrassment about physical deformity,
• an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity,
• an inappropriate relationship with a coach, and
• declining university education to follow “the dream”… in California.

There are some real issues in that list; issues that real people face everyday. And, for certain, in life those issues often do become intertwined. But life isn’t a story told in two hours. Life has nuance, surprises and – crucially – unexpected consequences. Bend It Like Beckham has none of that.

One could argue that the film is merely attempting to highlight the existence of issues faced by young adults as they try to find their place in the world. Unfortunately, Bend It Like Beckham brings nothing of value to the actual discussion of those issues. Instead they are all treated as trite clichés – sprinkled like colourful confections on a social commentary cupcake. The film expects its audience to recognize the characters’ struggles, feel some sympathy, and then walk away happy to have had a sweet treat.

But the happy ending is probably the most infuriating aspect. Since none of the issues are ever properly developed, it would be extremely generous to suggest that they are “resolved”. Yet, in the end the audience is still left with the notion that everything has magically worked out. The central conflict of this film is that a young woman with an immense talent, that has gone completely unnoticed by her family, is being unfairly held back from the fairy-tale life she could have. Once that singular issue is solved – when her parents finally see how well she can kick a soccer ball – all other concerns are set aside. The underlying lesson is that society has a lot of problems, but you can ignore them if you have a special talent for something that other people care about; especially if that talent lets you physically escape to another country.

The film would have been better if Jess had just enjoyed soccer as a past-time but wasn’t particularly good at it. The plot would be essentially the same, but with a depressing ending that would more accurately reflect the life of someone facing so many social barriers. At least that would have left the audience with something to think about.

0/10

Nothing but Trouble

What Jeff said:

This is a bizarre film which I vaguely remember from childhood.  When I rediscovered it, it turned out to be technically awful, but a tremendously entertaining distraction.  I recommend it for the lulz.

Mike’s verdict:

This movie is basically The Hills Have Eyes. The unlucky family on vacation has been replaced by a pretentious businessman who has been bamboozled into giving a woman he’s just met a ride to Atlantic City, and the unforgiving desert has been replaced by a house full of dangerous traps and gizmos. But the violent and disfigured rural family is the same, and so is their sense of “justice”.

Of course, there are a few differences between this film and the classic horror trope. The businessman, played by Chevy Chase, is a bumbling idiot, and all of the eyes belong to John Candy and Dan Aykroyd.

These hills have googly eyes.

Movies written and staring Dan Aykroyd – especially those including John Candy and Chevy Chase – can’t really be critiqued. You can ignore the fact that Aykroyd received a Worst Supporting Actor Razzie; this film is meant to be a technically awful, tremendously entertaining distraction – and that is certainly what it is.  Some of the best bits involve a barely recognizable Daniel Baldwin getting exactly what he deserves, Tupac in his film debut as a member of Digital Underground, and a cameo by what must be the first ever in-dash GPS navigation system. Demi Moore is a somewhat surprising inclusion, given that this is the immediate follow-up to her Golden Globe-nominated performance in Ghost and only a year ahead of the release of A Few Good Men. In any case, Moore does a good job as the sole but futile voice of reason in an Aykroyd/Candy/Chase universe.

Good fun. 10/10

The Dig

What Jesse said:

Yeah and I also want you to watch The Dig.

Go

Mike’s verdict:

The Dig is not exciting. It’s not suspenseful or mysterious; there are no larger than life personalities and the plot is very straightforward. But it is quietly, unexpectedly, dramatic. The film leans into the understated performances of Carey Mulligan and Ralph Fiennes, allowing it to firmly capture and hold attention – without actually needing to demand anything.

The story is told with a plain, but delicate, simplicity that carries the audience gently along with characters who – despite being set nearly a century ago in what might as well be a another universe – are entirely relatable today. There is a tender grip that you don’t notice until then end when it gracefully lets you go.  Indeed, it was only during the epilogue that I realized I had spent nearly two hours with a shallow anxiety, waiting for the disaster that was surely going to disrupt the story I was enjoying.

But there is no disaster.

There is just life, seen from the perspective of two people who have been brought together by a shared passion for how the past reaches into their present.

There are, of course, trials and frustrations – but they are reasonable. Problems are only as big as they need to be – nothing is embellished for the sake of entertainment. Aside from a strangely tangential love triangle that briefly distracts somewhat from the real narrative, the film does very well to avoid introducing tensions where they are unnecessary.

Mulligan and Fiennes have a solid chemistry that is allowed to fill the scenes they share but it is never exploited. Their connection exists, it’s overwhelming, and it’s unacknowledged.

And in the end you find out that the story is a dramatic telling of actual history – the past reaching into our present.

Jesse really under-sold this one.

9.5/10

Tenet

What Tomer said (paraphrased because it was a long time ago):

Have you seen Tenet yet?  You should review it. I’d like to know what you think.

Mike’s verdict:

Despite being shut away for what seems like forever, I managed to let this review slip for more than a year before finally watching the film. And all that time I was expecting to like Tenet – at least, like it enough. I figured it would be a decently entertaining big-budget-lots-of-explosions-clever-dialogue time-passer.  I didn’t know that it was going to be about time-travel, but based on the way people talked about it I figured there would be some wonky gimmick to differentiate it from all the other shiny block couch-busters.

The first few minutes reminded me of The Hurt Locker – so obviously not a good start – but the pace was keeping my attention and the total lack of exposition meant that I had to keep thinking to make sense of the visual spectacle. And visually, the film is quite good. The reversing bits are done so well that often it’s not obvious which direction the action is truly moving.

Unfortunately, that’s about the time that the whole thing falls apart.

Tenet is confusing and convoluted – and not just because of the pseudo* time-travel. Plenty of films use the grand-father paradox as a vehicle to tell a story, with great success. The paradox itself might be hard to follow (obviously, that’s how paradoxes work), but the story being told doesn’t need to be confusing too. The real issue is that, when they are not simply unintelligible, the infrequent bits of dialogue that might help the story move along are like listening to half a conversation between twins who only need to speak every fourth word. More than once the soundtrack let me know that I was supposed to feel tension, but I couldn’t figure out what the tension was about.

The worst part is that Tenet gets lost primarily because it doesn’t spend any effort on making a story that can be followed; the confusion is entirely intentional. The time-bending pieces of the story don’t actually stand up to scrutiny; and you’re not supposed to notice.  You’re supposed to be dazzled by the event, and hopefully walk away thinking the whole thing was so geniusly plotted that it must be your own fault that you can’t make sense of it.

I’m all for silly premises and suspending belief, as long as they are entertaining and tell a story. Time Lapse is equally preposterous from the time-travel point of view, but it has a relatable story. I want to be a participant in the narrative; I want to be invested in a resolution. There is a reason why Bill and Ted haven’t had a Most Serious Adventure… it just wouldn’t be fun.

6/10

* Although the direction of time is inextricably linked to the entropy of our universe, reversing entropy is not the same as reversing time.

In Bruges

What Sarah said:

Feel like something fun? After a job gone wrong Ray (Colin Farrell) and Ken (Brendan Gleeson) is sent off to Bruges to await instructions. The comedy plays with the inner struggles of the characters. This is getting my recommendation because I enjoy the interactions between the characters and the moments that make you laugh.

Mike’s verdict:

This film is not the light-hearted action-comedy that Sarah’s recommendation led me to believe it would be. It’s heavy. Really, heavy.

To be fair, it is entertaining. There are definitely funny moments, the writing is genuinely clever, Colin Farrell is precisely the goofy anti-hero that he always is, and the basic story is compelling. Yes, I was entertained.

But the characters, their motivations, their rationalizations, their actions – all of it is so dark. By the end of the final scene I had had quite enough of In Bruges‘ style of comedy. And I am not sure that I actually want to have been entertained by it.

This level of darkness requires a certain degree of mental preparation to properly consume. The kind of mental-readiness that isn’t expected (or appropriate) for a quiet Sunday afternoon viewing.

7/10

You Are Here

What Mitchell said:

The movie I recommended is one that was written and directed by my cousin, Daniel. I was lucky enough to be invited to watch it at the Toronto International Film Festival. At the time, I had a cough and took a bunch of cough syrup – I didn’t want to be that guy who coughs in a theatre, especially on my cousin’s big day. Whether the cough syrup enhanced my viewing experience, I don’t know. Anyway, I think the movie is weird, stylish, creative and dark… much like my cousin.  Was some of the film over my head? Yes. I’m very proud of my cousin and his work. I guess I should also say that this recommendation came up as a result of a conversation over beers where the subject of bionic eye replacement came up.

Mike’s verdict:

Before getting into You Are Here specifically, I require a short digression (it will become relevant later on).  I typically divide films into three basic categories. These categories are not heavily fortified silos into which all films must fit perfectly, in fact most films rest somewhat awkwardly across all three. But, as a typically apophenic human-being, I see patterns in the universe and tend to categorize things according to those patterns.  In the film world, the overarching patterns I see can be summed up as entertainers, informers and artists.

The entertainers span many film genres – mysteries, dramas, comedies, anything really – but are characterized by a clear intention to serve as a break from reality.  Such movies might have an underlying message, or they might not, but either way their main goal is to help the audience escape to another universe. Entertainers don’t have to express any special meaning, nor do they need to even make sense; they just have to distract the audience from their own lives for a short time.  On the other hand, the informers do have a specific and deliberate message.  This message might be difficult to understand, or it might be very clear, but the goal is to use film as the medium through which an idea may reach as wide an audience as possible. Informers don’t have to be entertaining, but they do have to hold the audience’s attention and they need to be successful at getting their point across – merely having something to say is useless if it isn’t expressed clearly.  Entertainers and informers are entirely audience-centric; without the audience they have no reason to exist.  However, the final category – artists – has absolutely no need for an audience at all.  These are films that may or may not have a message, may or may not be informative, and may or may not be entertaining. The goal of these films is simply to be something different; to exist as something that has never existed before and that can never be replicated.

Generally, I am not a fan of artists. There are of course some exceptions, but on the whole I expect that a film will entertain me or at least provide me with new ideas to think about. Bonus points for accomplishing both.  If I am to play the part of audience, then I expect the film to acknowledge me as the audience.  I do not like being the passive recipient of useless originality.

You Are Here starts with an interesting challenge. A lecturer, seemingly already deep into a philosophical discussion of consciousness and self-awareness, projects a laser pointer onto a film depicting waves.  He instructs the audience members to explore the waves in the film and be mindful of the red dot, but cautions them not to allow the dot to dictate where they look.  This is a simple but clever illustration of how human-beings are utterly incapable of resisting influence. If you follow the red dot, you lose. If you deliberately look away from the red dot, you still lose. And if you are trying to do what the lecturer has asked, then you’ve already lost before the red dot on the screen even becomes a consideration – the lecturer is the red dot that you should resist.

These notions of self-awareness and consciousness come through as core themes of each of the film’s loosely connected narratives.  First, there are the “movers”, who go from place to place simply because that is what they are meant to do. They have thoughts and questions, but are evidently incapable of stopping, or at least incapable of choosing to stop.  There are also the “trackers” who diligently record the positions of the “movers”. They are clearly distressed when a “mover’s” actions are unexpected, but simply continue to record positions anyway.  Then there is the human logic gate who receives questions, follows instructions that he does not comprehend, and returns correct results. There is an individual drawn to a mysterious door, endlessly looking for a way to reach it, simply because it’s there.  There is an “inventor” of an electronic eye who convinces everyone in the world to have completely functional eyes replaced, only to be forced forever to see what the “inventor” sees. And finally, there is the “archivist”, who meticulously archives objects that she finds, not because anyone asked her to, but because it’s just what she does. In each case, the people involved appear to have self-awareness – they appear to be conscious of what they are doing, and they recognize when there is a deviation from what they believe to be the normal procession of events.  But they do not know why they are performing their actions. They are simply machines receiving input and returning output.  If they have self-awareness, if they are conscious, it hardly matters – either way they do not have agency.

The idea that humanity is guided irresistibly by an unknown influence is further reinforced by the conclusions to the above narratives.  When one of the “movers” chooses a different path (reaching for a red ball!) he is struck and killed. When the searcher of the mysterious door gets too close, the door become forever blocked. When society puts the eye inventor in jail, everyone is forced to see only the inside of the jail.  When the “archivist” shows a glimmer of awareness beyond her simple role by attempting to make sense of the objects she collects, she suddenly finds herself a “mover” instead. And just to dispel any possible idea that these people are somehow different from the rest of us, the film makes clear that we are all interchangeable “Alans”. You are here, in the film.

We are all driven by the same outside forces, down whatever paths we are on, and the fact that we may or may not be truly conscious of ourselves is substantively irrelevant.

A gloomy outlook, indeed.

Still, any film that asks me to spend time thinking about such weighty philosophical concepts as self-awareness, consciousness and personal agency will be pushed strongly towards the informer category, with leanings into the entertainer space too.

There’s just one problem – You Are Here is apparently not about such weighty philosophical concepts as self-awareness, consciousness and personal agency.  According to the writer, the film may be about anything from technology-induced anxiety, to some unspecified despair, or even vague hope.  I can accept a certain amount of ambiguity in this type of film; after all, ambiguity is a feature of philosophy not a bug.  But in order to succeed as an informer, a film must be able to clearly articulate its message – and to do that it must first have a clear message to articulate.  Either You Are Here is lacking a clarity of vision, or it has simply failed in its attempt to express that vision. In both cases, it’s a disappointment. It’s not enough for a film to express an interesting idea – that idea has to have been expressed intentionally.  I can give part marks for getting the right answer, but I’m not happy with the work that led to it.

So where does that leave us?  I can’t call it an informer without also criticizing it for failing to properly realize its vision.  But at the same time, I think it would be a disservice to drop it in the artists category – whatever its faults, ignoring the audience is not one.

So that leaves me with entertainer.  You Are Here is entertaining.  I just wish I could have told the writer what it was about before he had given interviews.

Six points for the film on its own, plus an extra two points for accidentally giving me something to think about.

8/10

The Sisters Brothers

What Jesse said:

Ok, I just watched The Sisters Brothers and thought it was a real mess of a movie but strangely… I ended up really enjoying it! Who knew? lol. So now I need you to go see it and tell me why I like it ’cause I can’t tell right now…

What Jesse said later:

I DON’T know why I ended up liking it.

It was ALL OVER THE PLACE!

And even later:

I feel the same way I did after watching Pet Detective…

Mike’s verdict:

Before this viewing my only recollection of John C. Reilly was from Step Brothers, so I spent at least the first 20 minutes expecting to watch a tedious, tasteless comedy. The eye-roll inducing title (which goes inexplicably unaddressed), and the fact that the film starts out in the middle of some larger story, only reinforced my belief. It wasn’t until it occurred to me that Joaquin Phoenix isn’t at all funny that I finally realized I was in for a simple western drama.

As a western, this film is predictable in terms of its glacial pace and focus on gritty, morally ambiguous, characters. Yet the plotline itself is less predictable than I anticipated, at least as a fictional story. There’s no time that the characters themselves react unexpectedly – you can easily understand and foresee the consequences of all their actions – but somehow the story is still entirely random.  The Sisters Brothers is an entirely unoriginal film but with a strangely original plot – any wester film could go in the direction that this film does, but none of them ever do.

The whole film feels like when you begin watching a movie after it has already started and then have to stop watching before the end. Things happen, and you can follow along, but there’s no explanation for why things are happening, and in the end you don’t really care about the titular characters.

That said, I would absolutely watch a prequel depicting the story of how Riz Ahmed‘s character Hermann Kermit Warm discovered his river gold illuminating chemical, how he came to the attention of The Commodore, and the development of his utopian town in Texas.  I think leaving out these aspects was a significant loss.  I would probably also watch a prequel explaining how Jake Gyllenhaal‘s John Morris came to be employed by The Commodore as solely a non-violent investigator while everyone else The Commodore is associated with is a cold-blooded killer.

Maybe this is the reason that Jesse thinks he likes the film – it hints at other stories that might address bigger, more interesting, and thought-provoking issues.

5/10

The Truman Show

What Sarah said:

I don’t like this movie but I think there are themes revolving around determinism that would spark an interesting discussion that we could spend many hours on the balcony with several beers discussing.

Mike’s verdict:

Sarah was right, in so far as this film was able to spark discussion. Unfortunately, the steady decline into winter greatly hampered the hours available for sitting on the balcony – though thankfully not the availability of beer.

She was also right that the discussion, at least initially, revolved around determinism. I went into The Truman Show knowing the basic premise – a man, living in a completely isolated world, is unaware that his entire existence is controlled for the sake of others’ entertainment – so it was not a far leap to the question of free will. However, I quickly found myself drawn away from my favourite (and, quite frankly, the correct) way of explaining the universe. Determinism isn’t the concern here. Truman has no less of a free will than you do.

Superficially, it appears as if Truman’s life is being inordinately controlled; everything he does is guided by the unseen force of the program producers solely for the benefit of others. As observers from the outside we are aware of the cameras, and the actors, and the container. We recognize that Truman is being manipulated; that everyone involved in his tiny universe wants, first and foremost, to keep the illusion alive, and secondly, to provide an entertaining program for the viewers. And of course his life is entirely devoid of privacy – everything he does is known, to everyone.

Yet Truman still has as much free will as you or I. His innate ability to make decisions, to choose his responses to life situations, is no different than that of the audience. Without question, the options available to him in most situations are severely limited and, worse, he is completely unaware of those limitations. But in terms of his actual ability to make decisions, he is no more suppressed than anyone else on Earth.  In fact, within the cinematic universe The Truman Show only works as entertainment because he has free will. His personal agency is a necessary condition for the audience to enjoy watching him.

If we take a step back (okay, maybe take two or three steps back) to look at ‘real’ life side-by-side with Truman’s mini-world, the differences are really only a matter of scale: Truman was raised to believe that there was no need to leave the town he’d always lived in; that his life would be comfortable and fulfilling there; that ‘other’ places would be unnecessarily dangerous or just generally not as nice to live in.  Millions of people around the world have lived, and will continue to live, with exactly this belief. 

Truman’s world had strangers going about their own lives, briefly interacting with him in seemingly arbitrary but not inconsequential ways. It also included people with whom he developed relationships, directly affecting the decisions he made.  In real life, we have these same influences – the woman who cuts you off in the store parking lot, the man your mother insists you go on a date with. 

Truman had his decision-making ability limited by outside forces, guiding him to move about his world in ways that were not necessarily of benefit to himself, but of benefit to the larger system in which he existed.  We all stop at stop signs, we all wait patiently in queues, and we all exchange our labour for easily accountable and pocketable credits. 

We have all had our decision-making ability suppressed for the benefit of a larger system. Most of us call that system “society” and we like to think our participation is voluntary; that it comes from a conscious decision to enter into the “social contract”.  But this is a convenient lie.  In truth, individuals do not choose to enter the contract; there is no “opt out” clause for society.  Vast systems of progress that have been developing for thousands of years narrowly focus the effective influence we have over our own lives, while paradoxically ensuring that we have a certain amount of influence over the lives of others.

To be fair, individuals in a society derive some benefits in return – usually in the form of security for the necessities of life.  But Truman also receives these benefits; it is crucial for the show producers to ensure that he remains healthy.  And just like Truman the amount of effective influence we retain as part of the social contract is minimal, especially compared to what we are required to give up. (Whether or not the control we relinquish is truly worth the security we receive in exchange is a question for another time.)

The point of this film is not to make the viewer imagine how they would feel if it turned out that their whole life were controlled for the benefit of others.  It is, in fact, to highlight that all our lives are controlled for the benefit of others.  For Truman, the control is very focused – he has everyone’s attention.  In our ‘real’ world, control is instead spread across a boundless system of individuals who are mostly unable or unwilling to work together. We’re manipulated just like Truman, the difference is that there is no single puppet master – for us, it is the death of agency by a thousand influencers. 

But the most important aspect of our situation is that the manipulations we suffer are universal. The conditions of the social contract are meant to affect everyone more or less equally. We can blissfully ignore our society of micro-manipulations because they don’t single anyone out.  That is not the case for Truman.  What really, truly upsets us about The Truman Show is not the question of free will, nor even the question of privacy – it is the terrifying notion of being the only one who isn’t in on the joke. Truman’s life is just as mundane as yours; it wouldn’t be worth watching if he consented to being watched. The audience is entertained because he doesn’t know that he is entertainment.  He is being treated differently. 

We all want to be recognized as special. We do not want to be treated as different. 

There’s an interesting sub-theme that I found to be fairly subtle and is never directly address by the film itself, but could make for a whole other line of discussion: the audience… do they have free will?  Do the individuals who are drawn obsessively to spend every minute watching Truman go about his mundane tasks actually have any of their own personal agency?  Truman lived in an idyllic ocean-side town with friends and neighbours. He lived decades of this life with relative contentment; only questioning his existence when the mechanisms of the illusion began to fail.  On the other hand, his audience is comprised of individuals who are clearly so engrossed in Truman’s life that they neglect their own. They are so enveloped by obsession that they cannot bear to be away from their view screens. Whose agency is really being suppress by The Truman Show?  Is it the man who has been given an overwhelmingly ideal life, or the mindless hordes who cannot bear to miss any of it?

8/10

Spirited Away

What Sarah said:

I really like the beautiful animation and brilliant storytelling. It is very much the style of Hayao Miyazaki. This was one of the first of his films that I watched and was taken in by the imaginative and fantastical story of Chihiro, a girl who wanders into a world of gods, witches and spirits.

Mike’s verdict:

I was very confused during the first part of this film. Japanese animation is not something I regularly watch and I purposely avoid learning anything ahead of time about movies I plan to review. This, combined with the generically animated faces and the fact that I was watching the version with English voice actors, made the beginning of the narrative very misleading.

What I thought I was seeing, was a comically cliché American family, with a (possibly adopted?) daughter, as they were moving to a new town. I don’t know anything about what families are actually like in Japan, but the over-grown and over-bearing father, submissive mother and bratty child came across so much as the standard caricature of the American family that I was initially annoyed by the lack of exposition. Why is this American businessman moving his family to middle-of-no-where Japan? Why does their daughter have a Japanese name? Am I going to be forced to endure these annoying characters for the whole film? Everything about the characters seemed American – their interactions with each other, the way the father was driving, the lack of concern the parents had for their daughter, and especially the way the parents reacted to finding free food. None of the family interactions in this film conform to the image that I have come to expect of Japanese families. Like I said, I don’t know anything about what it’s like to be in a Japanese family, but this is definitely not how they are normally portrayed in films.

Of course, eventually I realized none of that mattered – the entire beginning of the film is just setting up a way for Chihiro to find herself in a fantastical land. The setup is flimsy and confusing, but it’s also mostly irrelevant.

Unfortunately, the rest of the film is very hard for me to review. Fantasy is always hard to judge, and animated fantasy is even more so. Is the animation good? I suppose so? It’s not a style that I find compelling – I very much prefer more detail and dimension. But that’s doesn’t mean it’s bad. Is the plot interesting? Maybe? It’s like a child’s dream, rambling along without any real direction. But that’s often how fantasy works when the only constraint is what can be drawn and the storyteller wants to put in as many strange elements as possible. Is there an over-all message conveyed? Not really. I could probably stretch to suggest that a spoiled child learned the value of labour, but I don’t think Miyazaki actually intended that.

I can’t say that I found this film particularly interesting – it doesn’t speak to me. But of course it doesn’t. This is a story for the 10 year old girl who is unhappy with some aspect of her ten year old life. It’s for the girl that needs an escape from the unreasonable adults controlling her existence; an imaginary place she can get lost in – one that isn’t perfect, but is somewhere she can be in control as the hero.

6/10

Office Space

What Tristan said:

I recommend that you watch Office Space! This is one of those rare examples of a 20 year old movie that has aged well (especially for a comedy…). While the setting is the late ’90s’ dot-com tech office era, the common office stereotypes that existed at that time still exist today. Sure, they all use CRT monitors and actual floppy disks, but the interpersonal relationships and annoyances are timeless. The supporting story is implausible, but in the spirit of the whole movie as a parody, I don’t think it will take away from the experience.

Mike’s verdict:

This is a movie that by all accounts I should already have seen.  For reasons long forgotten it managed to stay outside my periphery, and eventually reached the point where not seeing it was almost a part of my self-identity: I hadn’t seen it when it was a ‘thing’, so the chance was missed.  In any case, it turns out that all I needed to overturn 20 years of disinterest was an earnest recommendation, so here were are.

The first thing I noticed in this film is how flimsy and drab everything looks.  Compared to modern movies, Office Space makes no effort to create a set with dimension. Both the apartment and the titular office feel thin, unsaturated and empty. Everything looks utilitarian cheap.  But of course it does… it’s the ’90s and the focus is on the employees of a generic company office.  The dullness is very much the point; and while more recently the Googles and Shopifys of the tech world have made some strides, the office building of this film is still extremely familiar.

In fact, everything about Office Space is familiar.  The managers, the cubicle neighbours, the aggravations, the disillusions of the employees, the printers that are always broken; all of it is superbly related-able. The movie is certainly a parody in spirit, but like all good parodies it is firmly grounded in a reality that existed and still exists even two decades later.  Tristan is spot-on – some of the technology looks out-dated, but the characters, and the way they interact, are so distinctly humans-in-an-office that the set doesn’t matter.  Not only does this film not suffer from the anachronistic backdrops at all, if anything they serve as a reminder of the mind-numbing lack of creativity that offices so regularly spiral into.

At the same time, the dialog is hilarious and the supporting cast caricaturizes the personalities of everyday offices perfectly. Everybody is a little over-the-top; but really only a little over-the-top.  Where the film exaggerates, it does so only because it would take too long to depict the “death by a thousand cuts” that drives the motivations of all the main characters.

A supremely enjoyable watch. 10/10

Hugo

What Sarah said:

This is a visually stunning film and ideally watched in 3D. Hugo lives inside the walls of a train station in Paris in the 1930s. His father leaves him a mysterious automaton that, when fixed, can write. I think it’s a family movie that feels artistic and there is an attention to detail that I appreciate.

Mike’s verdict:

I have quite a list of coming soon reviews and generally choose the order of films to watch randomly, or at least without too much intention.  In this case, I chose Hugo because after the disappointment of the The Artist I wanted something light and enjoyable; and 3D children’s movies generally fit that description.  In fact, until the opening scene, I had been under the mistaken impression that I was about to watch an animated film; presumably because of the over-saturated poster image.  I don’t watch movie trailers so I knew nothing of the plot and I was genuinely surprised to discover the obvious connection to The Artist. Thankfully, Hugo was a much more enjoyable film.

To start with, it really is visually stunning.  I made the effort to see this film in 3D; the home set-up pales in comparison to what would have been quite an experience if I’d been able to view it in a proper theatre but I think it was worth the effort.  The universe that Martin Scorsese has created is engrossing, and the added dimension greatly contributes to a feeling of being inside that universe.  All of the detail provided in the set designs was fantastic. Every corner in each scene was given attention, making it really feel like a world – there were no empty spaces and no background – everything was alive and meant to be looked at.

I also really appreciated the characters, who felt both real and like caricatures at the same time.  Certainly this has a great deal to do with the choice of actors like Sir Ben Kingsley and Sacha Baron Cohen. They allow the over-saturation to extended past the movie poster, through the 3D set, right into the characters’ personalities.  Everyone seems like so much.  The story is fantasy, so believability isn’t really an issue, and the plot isn’t nearly as easy to predict as it initially seems.  The film did feel a little long, but considering that Scorsese directed it, it’s actually very reasonable.

My only real criticism concerns the plot revelation of why Georges Méliès abandoned film-making so drastically.  His portrayal and the lead-up to the revelation intimated that something terrible must have caused him to turn away from his passion, but when everything is explained in the end his anger seems like an over-reaction.  The story could have suggested that, as a film-maker at the start of the Great War, he would have been requested to document the fighting. By the end of the war, having witnessed so much, it would have been far more believable for him to walk away from the camera forever.  Instead, the writers let him simply be disappointed by a lack of attention – a plausibly human reaction, but not a very satisfying one.  Granted, my revisions would be somewhat less appropriate for a children’s movie – I’m simply not the audience this film was intended for.

Overall, an enjoyable watch that kept me engaged until the end.

7.5/10

 

 

The Artist

What Sarah said:

Charming, witty, moving and beautiful The Artist follows a film star in the 1920s who develops a relationship with a young dancer. I think that everything in this is well executed, it comes across as a very charismatic film. One very memorable standout is the performance by Uggie. The chemistry between all the characters is spot on. The artistry of this makes it a standout film in my opinion.

Mike’s verdict:

I want to like this film.  I like the idea of it.  I like the look of it.  I even like the choice of actors and I think that they portray their characters very well. (Yes, especially Uggie.)  There is indeed some charm in a film that can be boiled down to only the necessities. So much of every day life is non-verbal and implied by actions, but telling a story this way is surely harder than one would expect. The successful elimination of an entire storytelling vector (in this case audible dialog) can be freeing for the audience, since there is less to focus on in any given scene.  The energy that would normally go into attention for the missing vector can be focused elsewhere; perhaps on visuals or even non-dialog audio like the score.  Used correctly, this effect can draw the audience into a film in ways that are unfamiliar and ultimately contribute to a greater sense of connectedness. The audience will forget that something is missing, because that aspect is in fact not missing – it’s just not present.

Unfortunately, this film actually fails to accomplish the goal of telling a story without dialog. First, a significant portion of the story is told through dialog that is entirely present, but just not audible.  Many of John Goodman‘s lines are spoken, but with the audience required to lip-read. This would be acceptable if those lines were superfluous; one or two words at a time, spoken in obvious reaction, anger, surprise, dismay, etc. But that is not the case.  His character is central to the development of the plot, and many of those developments can only be understood by reading his lips. This makes it impossible for the audience to forget that the audio is missing – every time his character speaks I am reminded that part of my normal sensory input has been disabled. It’s irritating.

But even more irritating is the fact that the film actually uses dialog intertitles (the printed text edited into or between scenes), but does so randomly, without any obvious consideration for whether or not the audience actually needs clarification at a given point.  Not only are these additional reminders to the audience that their senses have been deliberately disabled, they are also used too infrequently given how often one is required to lip-read and at the same time used too frequently when lip-reading would have actually been just as effective.

Even worse, the intertiles that are provide are in French, despite the fact that all other written text in the film (such as visible newspapers) are written in English, and the dialog that needs to be read from silent lips is also entirely in English.  Yes, I understand that this has been marketed as a “French” film, but it’s not – literally everything about this film is English accept for the awkwardly timed intertiles.  The assumption that the audience must be able to read written French and English lips was aggravating and it caused me notable frustration throughout the viewing.  I spent a significant portion of the film trying to sort out what was actually happening.

Which brings me to my next complaint – the story.  Quite simply, it makes absolutely no sense that a production company would suddenly abandon their biggest star just because they are making a switch to ‘talkies’.  The entire world of film audiences would have been demanding to finally hear the voice of their hero George Valentin. It makes even less sense that Valentin would resist working on ‘talkies’ right to the point of bankruptcy. At minimum he could have continued to accept non-speaking roles just to pay the bills.  Without some kind of conflict films would be nothing more than a string of uninteresting scenes, but conflict has to make sense.  This film’s conflict is just too contrived.  I simply cannot accept that the characters would have made the choices that are depicted.

Obviously, I’m not a fan of this film.  But they always say that criticism is worthless without suggestions for improvement, and I do in fact have some suggestions. First, eliminate the requirement for lip-reading and intertitles entirely by rewriting the scenes that rely on them.  This will likely add a lot off camp to the scenes, but that would be more in line with the time-period anyway.  Second, change the plot to one where all the same events occur, but are in fact being orchestrated deliberately by Peppy Miller who is a mentally ill stalker bent on ruining Valentin’s life so that he is forced to be with her.  The film already has the necessary components to make this work – it just needs some tweaking to the non-verbal dialog.

4/10

 

The Runaways

What Sarah said:

You should watch The Runaways for the feel, look and sound of punk in the ’70s. It’s a biopic with a bit of a coming of age feel, and focuses on the relationship between singer Cherie Currie and guitarist/vocalist Joan Jett during the creation of the all girl punk band The Runaways.

Mike’s verdict:

I wasn’t very familiar with The Runaways before watching this film.  I was definitely aware of Cherry Bomb in the same half-remembered way that I know a lot of songs from the 1900s.  For those who don’t remember, back in the day exposure to music was primarily through radio – a medium that made identifying artists and song titles a bit of a crap-shoot. You had to be lucky, or really interested, to hear the song and the DJ announce it’s details. It probably doesn’t help that I also would have been paying attention about 25 years after the band was actually in rotation. Either way, as it turns out I am familiar with a few of the their songs – I just didn’t realize they were connected.

Of course, I’m a lot more familiar with Joan Jett’s music. I’m sure that has a lot to do with the fact that her career continued long after The Runaways‘, and it doesn’t hurt that she stamped her name on her next band…

In any case, I have no real emotional attachment to the music that might skew how I feel about the film.  Still, I did have some expectations about how it would go.  Dirty clubs, unseemly characters, angry girls, drugs, tour bus foolishness, at least one slimy band manager, and obviously punk rock music.  And in a lot of ways, that does sum-up the basic plot of the film.

But as much as the film is superficially about the band’s development, it actually does have a lot more to say about the relationship between Jett and Currie.  At least it implies there is a lot to say about their relationship. In fact, it sort of implies a lot about a lot. Somehow I get the feeling that a true director’s cut would be a Scorsese-length epic.  Time passes almost too quickly, even for the whirlwind pace of the music industry, and a number of scenes felt like there was supposed to be more.  Hannah Marks‘s Tammy, for instance, is left as an awkward side character but could very easily have been used as a proper dramatic device.  I also believe that some issues that were skipped over entirely would have been addressed directly if this film had been made in 2020 rather than 2010.

Even so, I did enjoy the feel of the film. I don’t have any memories to rely on, but the depiction of 1975-76 feels faithful.  The locations, the clothes, the sounds; all work very well. And say what you want about Bella Swan, but Kristen Stewart was an entirely believable Joan Jett. Dakota Fanning was also quite believable – almost too believable considering she would have been roughly the same age as the character she was depicting.

All of that to say, The Runaways is a good film and I enjoyed watching it.  However, there is another aspect that should not be overlooked: namely, the fact that it has provided an excuse to get (re)acquainted with the band members and where there lives have gone since the band disintegrated.

There isn’t too much surprising to say about Jett. She’s in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Currie continued her music career (despite what the film suggests) with a certain amount of success, particularly once she started performing with her sister.  She also stared in a number of films, including Foxes with Jodie Foster.  But most interestingly, she is now a chainsaw carving artist – she even has a very GeoCities-esque website that showcases her art! Yup, chainsaw art.

Sandy West, the drummer and only member other than Jett to remain with the band for their entire run, died in 2006 at the young age of 47… from lung cancer brought on by a lifetime of very punk-rock smoking.

Micki Steele, one of only three original members (with Jett and West), left the band before they were even picked up by Mercury Records. But in the ’80s she changed directions entirely, joining The Bangles!

Lita Ford had a fairly unremarkable solo career, but she did record a duet with Ozzy Osbourne.

Finally, Jackie Fox, who at 15 turned down early acceptance to study math at UCLA in order the join the band, went on to study linguistics and get a law degree from Harvard after she left the band. In addition to working as an attorney now, she also spends her time on game shows like Jeopardy!.  And most interestingly, she is the only member of the band who refused to give her permission to be depicted in the film. The producers had to invent the fictitious bass player Robin, played by Alia Shawkat.

Sometimes it’s really worth looking passed the film.

8/10

The Big Lebowski

What Jeff said:

You gotta watch this film, The Big Lebowski. It’s about a nobody who got tangled up in some nonsense. Turns out, the nonsense was legitimate, but didn’t include this actual “Dude”. Still, the Dude did a good job navigating the scene that life presented him with. It is genuinely entertaining, and full of oddness. I think you will appreciate it as much as I did.

Mike’s verdict:

Nonsense. That is the right word.

I have to admit upfront that it’s possible my feelings toward this film have been skewed by the fact it was viewed only days after, North by Northwest.  Sometimes two unrelated films can play off each other and it’s to the benefit of both – even when they are very different.  On the other hand, sometimes the virtues of one film will shine blinding light on the shortcomings of the other.  In this case, the two films start with exactly the same premise (a guy minding his own business gets caught up in a fantastic plot after being mistaken for someone else), use similar plot devices (the rich and evil antagonist, the mysteriously attractive woman with an unknown agenda), and even have overlapping character actions (pencil shading the notepad to see the last written note).  But despite these similarities, the two films take character development off in near polar opposite directions and unfortunately for The Dude, I like Roger Thornhill more.

Films work best when the audience can imagine itself in the story’s universe; particularly when one can identify with the main character. Hitchcock‘s hero is thoughtful, articulate and composed under pressure – exactly the kind of person you want to be when suddenly thrust into an unpredictable situation.  The Dude is… not any of those.  In fact, I found him to be a hard character to like at all because the way he communicates (or fails to) is so aggravating. Half of the time (usually when what he needs to say is critical) he spews a series of utterances that impart no information whatsoever. The rest of the time he dead-pans extremely well thought-out phrases but with an aggressive pretentiousness that seems entirely out of place. I can only suppose that the intention is to present The Dude as someone that could be a high-society intellectual if he wanted to, but he’s chosen a simple, relaxing existence of weed and bowling instead because he’s ever so enlightened. Bullshit. The Dude hasn’t chosen anything; he is living exactly the life that he has to live. If nothing else, the plot of the film is evidence that The Dude lacks the ability to consider the consequences of his decisions and, especially, his indecisions.  While he certainly has an innate ability to roll with the literal punches, it’s clear that he has no ability to choose where he rolls.  Anyone can point The Dude in the direction they want him to go and Newton’s laws of motion take over until someone else comes along with a different agenda. That’s not chill, it’s sad.

There a few other issues that stand out too.  For one, I feel like I have to say something about the dog. It was very clearly not a Pomeranian. Was that supposed to be an inside joke?  Did the writers expect their audience would realize the joke and laugh, or were they expecting to laugh at an audience that failed to notice? I don’t get it.  And then they throw in the “marmot” that is very clearly a ferret. Who is the butt of this joke?  It isn’t even properly sustained – you can’t call an animal both a marmot and an amphibious rodent.  Sometimes absurdity works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes you laugh at a movie, and sometimes the movie laughs at you.

This is not to say that I entirely disliked the film. On the contrary, I actually agree that it is quite entertaining as an odd-ball comedy.  Some of the dialogue is genuinely witty: “Obviously, you’re not a golfer”, caught me right were it was supposed to and I very much appreciated the satirical homage to Kraftwerk.  The whole film has a rambling absurdity (obviously mirroring its protagonist) that doesn’t make any effort to impart a message (again, obviously mirroring its protagonist). It’s just there, filling up two hours in a generally pleasing way.  I can appreciate that.

I also enjoyed the cast and really can’t find fault in the choice of actors.  Even if I can’t see The Dude as a hero, I thought Jeff Bridges did a good job portraying the hapless loser. I can honestly believe that his life would be a string of absurd occurrences.  Of course, John Goodman is never disappointing.  Make no mistake, his character was awful; but supremely well illustrated.  And who knew that’s where the “Am I the only one around here…” meme came from? I guess they’re making memes from movies now. Julianne Moore was a bit of a surprise as the mysterious woman but she added a nice distraction from the idiocy of the rest of the plot.  I had all but forgotten about Philip Seymour Hoffman; but it was nice to see him.

I especially liked the inclusion of the completely unnecessary characters. John Turturro‘s Jesus Quintana has no purpose in the film at all other than to add colour to the universe, and add colour he did.  On the other hand, Jon Polito‘s private eye feels like he was part of some other cross-over story line that I’ve been left out of. I wouldn’t mind seeing a spin-off that focuses on how he ended up driving around in the least inconspicuous vehicle imaginable.

I suppose I should mention Tara Reid, but her character was really more of a caricature than a person. Was she even a known actor in 1998?  Either way there wasn’t much screen time to work with.  And how on earth did Flea end up in this?  I wouldn’t even have noticed him at all except that his name stood out rather awkwardly in the opening credits. I guess he was one of the nihilists, who also had no purpose than to add colour.  Either way, I have no complaints with either of their performances; they filled their rolls as much as was required.

But then there was Steve Buscemi‘s Theodore Donald ‘Donny’ Kerabatsos – without question the only sympathetic character in the entire film.  Certainly not an unflawed character (his timing was conversationally terrible). But as the only one of the group who (for the most part) managed to keep himself distanced from The Dude’s mess, his fate was heartbreaking – especially considering his final frame. Such a shame.  It would be fun to see a re-imagined version of this film made entirely from Donny’s point of view.  It would have The Dude just popping in once in a while at the bowling alley as a colourful side character.

Overall, a generally enjoyable film that I am sure to forget until it pops up as a recommendation on Netflix.

7/10

 

North by Northwest

What Claudette said:

We watched North by Northwest because a colleague recommended it and a book about mid-century modern highlighted this movie for examples of that style I had to watch it. Tristan and I also could tell that Hitchcock had a sense of humour as shown in the closing scene with the train.

Mike’s verdict:

This was a highly entertaining film to watch.  There are no lessons to learn, no philosophy to consider, no heavy issues that stay with you for days. It’s just an old-fashioned, regular guy gets caught-up in the spy world, mystery – with just the right ratio of exposition to ambiguity.  The story isn’t complicated, because it doesn’t need to be. Every honest person has imagined being suddenly wrapped-up in a spy thriller, following clues, meeting strange people and ending up as the reluctant hero. All this film does is boil the fantasy down to its components: regular guy, mysterious woman, respectable villain, generally menacing but equally incompetent henchmen, compassion-free government agency; and then strings them together with unlikely but romantically plausible encounters. It even manages to throw in quite a few funny moments to keep things lighthearted.

There are no truly surprising twists – most audiences will anticipate all of the possibilities.  But there is still a sense of unsureness: Is she a spy? Is she a villain? Is she just a convenient plot misdirection that will be thrown away after a quick tryst on a train?

There are definitely some strange scenes that I can only presume made sense in the context of the late ’50s.  I struggle to understand why Cary Grant‘s Roger Thornhill decides to call his mother from the drunk tank, or why he subsequently takes her with the police to the mysterious Townsend house.  And for that matter, Jessie Royce Landis‘ character as Thornhill’s mother seems entirely unnecessary given that she doesn’t have a role at all after the initial set up of the plot. Maybe she’s just introduced to give Roger Thornhill some credibility as a good boy?

Either way, the scenes certainly don’t detract much from the film; they just feel out of place.  But the rest of the characters fit their roles well and the locations are believable – at least if you can suspend your disbelief just enough to accept that the villain lives in a house literally on top of Mount Rushmore.

As with Vertigo, I once again found myself envious of the of the late ’50s social scene.  It just seems so civilized! And of course, Grant’s suit has been called the “greatest in the history of cinema“.  Maybe I’m just caught up in that spy-thriller fantasy, or maybe I’m just envious of any time when people were still allowed to meet for drinks.

Overall, great movie.

9/10

Space Jam

What Sarah said:

A classic from the ’90s that I remember enjoying more than once, most likely because of the music, the characters, the crazy plot and all round fun time. Some iconic rap lyrics and a cast full of all your favourite Looney Tunes characters, NBA stars and Bill Murray playing a high stakes basketball game, what’s not to like? At least that’s what my memories of it are.

Mike’s verdict:

This took ages to review because despite, being a ’90s classic, it’s simply not interesting.  It sort of ebbs and flows between silly and cringe-worthy, as so many children’s movies do, but not in any interesting ways.  I’ll admit that it is definitely fun to see basketball players being used so blatantly as marketing tools; Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley, Patrick Ewing, Larry Johnson, Shawn Bradley (did I miss anyone?) are surprisingly terrible actors considering they are playing themselves. That said, the ‘toon actors are all on point – somehow Bugs and the gang just never seems to get any older…

I do appreciate the obvious irreverence for the fourth wall though – making a movie designed solely to explain what Jordan was doing during his fake retirement hiatus from the NBA is pretty clever. And any movie that suddenly busts-out Bill Murray to save the day will always get bonus points from me. I’m also giving another few bonus points because, inexplicably, Warner Bros. still maintaining the original Space Jam website in all its ’90s glory!

5/10

 

 

Across the Universe

What Sarah said:

I’m a bit hesitant about this one because I know that you aren’t a fan of the Beatles and this movie relies heavily on the music. Interestingly it doesn’t have much in the way of a script, instead relying more on the lyrics of the songs to move the plot along. Sometimes it feels like it struggles using this method but overall I think it makes for an interesting and enjoyable watch. I’m really interested to hear what you think.

Mike’s verdict:

There’s a reason I went more than a decade without watching Across the Universe; the Beatles.  I have never understood the fanatical devotion that people still feel toward the band, and their music has never held any real meaning for me directly.

Of course, I can certainly appreciate the context in which they developed a following.  Millions of mostly young people, dissatisfied with the lives of their parents, were searching for any way to be a part of the burgeoning counter-culture.  They found the new sound easily digestible, comforting and rebellious – the three most important aspects of teen music in any time period.  But being a rebel at the forefront of an already snow-balling cultural shift is easy, particularly when you stand to make a lot of money for a lot of people. The Beatles, for all the talk of counter-culture and rebellion, were actually quite palatable even to the parents that shook their heads and lamented the death of ‘proper’ music. Sure, the band members had the floppy hair, but they also wore suits.  Their music didn’t sound like anything people had heard to that point, but the lyrics were sentimental and mostly inoffensive.  The Beatles were exactly the right sound and look, at exactly the time it was needed – and they managed to ride the wave. Fine.

But that doesn’t explain why people still swoon over any mention of them today.  Nor does it explain why the Beatles have managed to build such devotion from people who missed their hay-day.  It’s as if kids of the 60s never managed to out-grow their bubble-gum pop phase, and the reverence has managed to be passed down like fancy cookware.  Music should tell a story, and certainly the Beatles understood that. Unfortunately, their lyrics tell stories the way your grandfather does; half-asleep on the couch, fighting to remember the point he’s trying to make, distracted by a myriad of experiences that his failing memory can’t arrange in order.  You listen intently hoping for some insightful advice about life, but at the end you’re left wondering if you missed something.

And that’s sort of how I feel about Across the Universe: a plainly ordinary film about romance on the back-drop of the Vietnam war.   The 60s had a lot going on and the film tries to check all the nostalgia boxes it can cram in.  To be fair, it succeeds in hitting most of the right notes, but it doesn’t manage to make them sound like music. The plot is scattered and none of the main characters are given the space to properly develop. The saddest part is that without the sudden and random bursts of Beatles songs, the film probably wouldn’t be notable at all.

Across the Universe isn’t a terrible movie. It’s light, entertaining and nothing to take too seriously; just like the band who inspired it.

5.5/10

Locke

What Shannon said:

Watched this movie after seeing recommendations on Reddit, and because Tom Hardy can do no wrong in my eyes. Literally an hour and a half of Tom Hardy in a car monologuing and talking to unseen people via Bluetooth. Google gives too much of the plot away. It’s about a very ordinary man trying to maintain the moral high ground whilst keeping his whole life from unraveling in the process. I found it captivating.

Mike’s verdict:

When I read this recommendation, the first thing that came to mind was Phone Booth with Colin Farrell.  So not a great start, obviously.  Then I started considering the notion of an hour and a half of nothing but Tom Hardy in a car, and I was admittedly even less enthusiastic. Thankfully, Locke turned out to be somewhat better than it sounds on paper; though it definitely has significant flaws.

To start on a positive note, I did mostly enjoy discovering Ivan Locke as a character. While it took some effort to get passed Tom Hardy’s awkward attempt at a Welsh accent, I found Locke engaging enough to bear the weight of the film alone.

I do take issue with the suggestion that he is an ordinary man though.  In fact, Locke is interesting specifically because he is not an ordinary man. The way he plans every detail, recounts those details in precise language, and expects his employees to follow in kind, shows that maintaining strict control is a significant factor in his life.  We don’t get a chance to see it, but I would expect this need for control to be pain-point for those around him. It’s clear that during the course of his drive to London, every minute is a struggle to convince himself that he is actually in control. His mental state begins to unravel quickly as he realizes that the situation is beyond him.  The sudden out-bursts directed at the man in the rear-view mirror, and euphemistically referring to his own behaviour as ‘not like myself’ only reinforces the fact that Ivan is clearly troubled, even beyond the situation we are directly seeing.

I also take issue with the suggestion that Ivan was attempting to maintain anything close to a moral high ground.  Even if I were willing to grant him a pass for the one very specific moral failure that kicks off the entire plot (which I am not), there is still the problem of how Ivan treats his family, co-workers, company and mistress.  In the course of dealing with his situation, Ivan focuses on one person at the expense of his family and the careers of potentially hundreds of people who work for his company. He becomes fixated on mitigating the consequences of a singular personal problem, and in doing so manages to ignore the many greater (and more immediate) consequences of his actions.  Ivan does not even appear to be aware of his actions in terms of morality – he consistently avoids any emotional discussion by insisting that he needs ‘practical solutions for moving forward’, and he speaks to everyone through a sort of faux-humble condescension. His decision to travel to London comes directly from a deep-rooted fear of replicating the behaviour of his own father and that fear blinds him to the bigger picture.

Ivan’s deeply flawed character is actually what I like most about this film. If Ivan were an ordinary man, watching him drive for and hour and half would have been unbearable. And if he were a moral man, there would be no story at all.

Of course there is more to this film than Ivan Locke – the setting is extremely important. Or at least it should be.  As as device, I really like the one-set film. When it’s done right it can build terrific, frustrating tension right through an entire story – especially if the set feels small enough and has characters always on the verge of, but not quite able to, escape the ‘box’.  But this only works when two important conditions are met. First, there has to be a plausible explanation for the characters to be contained within the setting.  The audience needs to feel the same tension as their counterparts on screen, and that can only happen when the audience believes in the situation. Second, there need to be subtle teases throughout the film that the characters could escape the set.  If the audience never expects the characters to get out of the confined situation, or the characters are not even trying to get out, there won’t be any anticipation to work with.  Without these two elements, a one-set film is just convenient for filming; it doesn’t add to the audience’s experience.

Sadly, the plot for this film fails on both counts. The most aggravating problem is that the suggested time crunch Ivan is under just doesn’t make any sense. Birmingham to London is about a two hour drive and shortly before 9:00 pm Ivan claims to be less than an hour away from his destination.  Even if traffic was really bad and he didn’t arrive until 11:00 pm, he would still have at least three hours in London before needing to start back for Birmingham in order to be at work the following morning.  Considering Ivan’s attitude to work and the people in his life it’s unlikely that he would believe it necessary to stay in London for any longer than a few hours, especially given the importance of his being present for work the next morning.  His entire predicament is built on him wanting to be in London for a specific moment; he admits to having no greater attachment.  This effectively eliminates the most immediate cause of tension for the film because Ivan could have made the trip without most people ever even realizing he had gone anywhere.

The second element is failed as well simply because the film makes no effort to suggest that Ivan is almost at his destination. I never felt the tense anticipation that he was almost there or that circumstances were making it harder for him to continue his journey – because he was never actually rushing. The world around Ivan wants him to hurry, but he shrugs off that pressure easily – after all, ‘there are speed limits’.  On it’s own Ivan’s attitude is conducive to the plot and certainly works toward character development, but it limits the best part of a one-set film – tension.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the only issue I had with the plot.  How is one guy the single point of failure for pouring concrete?  Why does everything for the project fall apart despite Ivan’s ultra-precise record-keeping and management style?  The whole thing left me feeling that the writing was lazy. The audience is meant to be distracted entirely by Locke and not think too hard about how this all came about.  That said, I did enjoy the alignment of Ivan’s metaphorically ‘trapped’ story being told from within a relatively confined physical space. But if the plot had been more convincing, this alignment would have been more effective.

Finally, I’m a little bit torn on the ending. I liked the way things were left, but I wish it had actually happened a bit sooner. I didn’t feel the film was too long or that the story needed to end sooner. But I think the ending would have been more effective if the audience had been left with a little less closure.

And that’s really where this film fails the most.  It had all the opportunity to be truly anxious, but somehow didn’t quite get there.  It wasn’t boring, and the story was indeed captivating, but it just didn’t quite have enough tension.

6.5/10

 

 

Vertigo

What Tristan said:

Ok, we watched Vertigo last night. It’s from 1958 and first thing I noticed was the amount of dialogue! It really doesn’t rely on special effects like modern movies do. That said, I kinda feel that the movie really handholds the audience through key story elements with the camera work. It has a great twist at the end, and it’s really cringe-y in places in modern #metoo context. Unsatisfying ending.

Mike’s verdict:

I went into Vertigo telling myself that I needed to watch the film bearing in mind the perspective of someone living in 1958.  There have been drastic changes in movie technology, script writing and even visual story-telling since Alfred Hitchcock imagined the film and I didn’t think it would be fair to judge it from the perspective of 61 years (!) in the future.  But by the time I reached the end I had realized that I can’t compensate for time passing – 2019 is the perspective that I have so that is how it will be judged.

Thankfully, I think that the basis of the film has stood up to the march of time fairly well. Or, perhaps more fairly, I don’t think modern society has actually moved on as much as we’d like to believe.  There are indeed some awkward aspects of the film that don’t necessarily fit well with contemporary ideas, but I’m not convinced they would actually be absent if the film had been made more recently. I also noticed some of the hand-holding camera work, but I was able to forgive it. I think if the whole thing was re-shot today many of the clues would be just as direct, albeit perhaps a little more subtle.

I found the story itself compelling. I was afraid it was going to move slowly compared to modern movies but the pace was actually fine.  The introduction of key characters was succinct and the introduction of the mystery happened quickly. I really dislike mysteries that don’t give you all of the relevant details (it’s too easy to trick the audience when they don’t have all the information) but in this case when it was all over I felt as if my failure to guess what was happening was in fact my own failure – there is just enough detail to predict what’s going on if you pay attention and make some thoughtful speculations.

That said, I almost called out the twist very early on – a few key bits of dialogue seemed suspiciously specific and it got me thinking on the right track.  But ultimately I didn’t get it quite right so the film does get points for fooling me. Even so, it turned out that I imagined a far more interesting resolution than what actually developed, so I agree with Tristan’s assessment that the final outcome is unsatisfying. Maybe it is my 2019 perspective, but I expect movie character motivations to be more complex.

I also found the characters compelling.  They all fit well with the atmosphere of the film and at one point I found myself envious of the dapper late-50s social scene.

My only substantive complaint of this film is that there is an abrupt shift about midway through that feels like a whole section has gone missing. The reasoning for the shift itself is clear and ultimately justified, as it lines up with story elements surrounding psychological changes in James Stewart‘s character. But the speed and intensity of the shift doesn’t work. There needs to be more connective tissue to show the development of the character from one phase to the next.  Having gotten to know ‘Scottie’, I found myself in disbelief that he could change so drastically.  Moreover, at the same time that this shift happens Barbara Bel Geddes‘ character outright disappears. In the first half of the film she is built up as a significant and core character, only to be thrown away without even mention later on. Again, her absence can be explained reasonably within the story arch, but there’s no effort at all to do so. Perhaps there are bridging scenes that didn’t make the final edit.

Over all, I was entertained. The mystery left me a surprise and I enjoyed Hitchcock’s honest attempt to use special effects at a time when film technology was fairly primitive. I just wish that more effort had been made to link the two parts of the story.

7.5/10

The History Boys

What Sarah said:

History boys is the film adaptation of the play of the same name, set in the early 80s following a group of boys attempting to get into Oxbridge. I think it’s got plenty of wit, dry humour and a pretty good soundtrack. There are a few stand out performances in the cast and with the exception of a few moments that definitely feel like they have come straight from the theater, the adaptation to film has been done fairly well.

Mike’s verdict:

At its core, this story is a commentary on education – specifically, the methods used to teach the classic arts: history, literature, and philosophy.  It presents a sort of trichotomy that juxtaposes classical general studies against traditional history as narrative and modern speculative history; giving the viewer a literal representation for each in the form of three very different teachers. But it’s an unusual setup. While most stories of this sort start with a base of students who are reluctant at best (if not totally obstinate), the titular history boys are engaged, intelligent and outright excited about their studies.  This is not the school movie trope about teachers struggling to get through to students. Moreover, the traditional teaching methods embodied by Mrs. Lintott and Hector appear to have been quite effective – they have elevated eight boys to the top of the class after all.  Yet, despite this, the school’s headmaster parachutes in the younger Irwin to work with the boys when he recognizes (or imagines) a disconnect between how his school teaches and the expectations of Oxbridge entrance examiners.  This makes the main conflict of story more about how the teachers interact with each other than how they interact with the students.

It’s an interesting shift on the classic school boy story.  Unfortunately, there are some aspects of the film that just don’t work well.

First, in order to bolster drama beyond just teachers disagreeing, an out-of-place sub-narrative is introduced that involves too many of the characters given how small the cast is.  It may be that some of the connective tissue holding this sub-narrative together was lost due to editing, or maybe it wasn’t meant to be a sub-narrative at all. But either way, it doesn’t fit well with the rest of the film.

I also found Rudge‘s character confounding. At the beginning of the film there is no indication that he is any less intelligent than his classmates; nor is he portrayed as any less hopeful of being accepted to one of the elite schools. Yet as the boys prepare for entrance interviews, his lack of knowledge, obvious contempt for the Oxbridge elite, and assumption that he could get by on sports alone, are revealed so suddenly that it is hard to reconcile his inclusion in the group at all.  The boy who hopes to play golf rather than answer interview questions somehow managed to earn one of the highest grades in his school’s history?  Perhaps there is something lost in translation from play to film, but even the final outcome of his own story is very disappointing.

Finally, the soundtrack is interesting, but wasn’t used as well as it could have been. There is a disconnect between the music used for scenes inside the school, which admittedly seems appropriate for a boy’s grammar school, and the music used for scenes outside the school, which includes New Order, The Smiths, The Clash, Echo & The Bunnymen, and The Cure. I enjoyed all of the music, but there wasn’t enough of a bridge between the two scene types.

This film comes across as very obviously adapted from the stage. Everything from the dialog delivery, scene structure and story progression feel like theatre. And it doesn’t quite work.  Stage productions are disjointed between scenes, but that is a necessary consequence of how theatre stages work – it’s not a feature.  Films have the opportunity to smooth stories out, to make them flow. The History Boys just doesn’t flow well.

Nevertheless, the film is intellectually interesting and entertaining.  The teaching scenes are such a flurry of quotes and dry, wit interpretations that they stand out above the film’s limitations, and the out of school music was fun even if it did seem under-utilized.

7/10

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

What Tristan said:

You should watch Buster Skruggs because it’s a movie that’s done in a format that isn’t very common: several short stories that are completely unrelated to each other except that they are all quirky and they are all western style. It’s odd in the sense that it takes itself seriously as a movie, but it’s also clearly an homage to the spaghetti westerns of the 50’s and 60’s… almost to the point of parody.

Mike’s verdict:

I let an unusual amount of time pass between watching The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and actually starting to writing my review.  Initially I thought I was holding off because I needed to let it all sink in – after all, it’s really six movies and surely that means more to consider.  But eventually I realized that I was actually just putting off the review because in spite of, or more likely because of, the range of stories caused my thoughts to be muddled. I couldn’t decide if I liked the film, disliked the film, or if I was actually completely indifferent.

So I switched tactics.  Instead of thinking about this film as a film, I started thinking about it as a short anthology – a bunch of works collected under a single name, but tied together only by the fact that someone happened to think they should be together.  And that did it. I realize now that I was having trouble precisely because I was trying to fit all of the stories into a single entity the way that Joel and Ethan Coen have, while at the some time not actually believing they should be in such a group. I liked some of the stories and I didn’t like others, but above all, I don’t believe they make a cohesive film. So to make things fair, I’m going to give each of them a vignetted review with a rating and take the average for an overall score.

Vignette 1: The Ballad of Buster Scruggs – the eponymous episode is one of the better ones. Between the singing and the satisfyingly obvious climax, it’s enjoyable.  Just the right amount of fun, and not too serious.  My only complaint is that the singing cowboy carries a guitar instead of a banjo; a sadly missed opportunity. 8/10

Vignette 2: Near Algodones – the first let-down story, this episode felt like it was supposed to be something more.  I can appreciate the ‘unlucky man’, but I need more time to develop sympathy for him.  An unsavory character that comes to an unsavory end just isn’t interesting on his own.  I will give extra credit for the banker though, he’s pretty funny. “Pan shot!” 5/10

Vignette 3: Meal Ticket – I did not like this episode, partly because of the way it ends but mostly because I think that Harry Melling‘s talent is wasted in it. His theatrical recitals are fantastic, but they’re overshadowed by gimmick and shock. 3/10

Vignette 4: All Gold Canyon – finally another good episode, probably my favourite of the series. It actually felt the least like a parody, had a character I could cheer for, and exactly the right ending.  I’d watch a sequel to this one. 10/10

Vignette 5: The Gal Who Got Rattled – my second favourite episode, this is the only one that felt like it could support a feature-length movie on its own. It has mystery, drama, a little action, and a sad ending. 9/10

Vignette 6: The Mortal Remains – I openly admit to not understanding this episode. I kept waiting to for the story to start, and then it was over. Bonus points for an interesting ensemble of characters, but I wish they’d been used in a proper narrative. 4/10

Overall, I think that Tristan’s description of the film is spot-on; it is definitely a bunch of unrelated stories that are quirky parodies of spaghetti westerns. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s enough to justify more than two hours of my night. I really could have lived without ever seeing half of these vignettes.  Most movies have highs and lows, but very few swing so widely as to feel disjointed.  In this case the sections are obviously meant to be entries on their own, in the same way that Black Mirror episode stand alone.  But clumping the vignettes together into a single film didn’t work.

Final score: 6.5/10

 

Manchester by the Sea

Note: This is the second part of a review double-header!  Jesse sent two recommendations in a single shot so I’m reviewing them at the same time. Click here for the other review.

What Jesse said:

Two movies for you to watch: War Dogs, and Manchester by the Sea. Very different but excellent flicks. War Dogs is so absurd it will make you laugh and then wonder if the grownups really are in charge… also, it was funny ’cause it’s true (based on a real case). Manchester by the Sea was a pretty intense slow burn. Casey Affleck plays the main character. Watch out for the BAHS-ton accents. Family drama.

Mike’s verdict:

“If you’re going to freak out every time you see a frozen chicken, I think we should maybe go to the hospital. I don’t know anything about this.“

Judging by this quote alone, I should like Manchester by the Sea. Add the fact that it is packed full of awkwardness and I should really like it.  Awkward people just trying to exist in a world where all the little things are much harder than they should be; this is my favourite kind of movie by far. But let’s get things straight right up front: I did not like Manchester by the Sea and I am struggling for a reason not to give it 0/10.

Right from the beginning I was aggravated.  The dialog starts before the opening credits music has faded and it was annoyingly difficult to hear what seemed like an expository exchange.  It was a relief when the music finally stopped – little did I know that all the music in this film would be annoying, out of place, too loud or unnecessary.  It was never appropriate to the scene, nor even ironically inappropriate – it was just all wrong.  Music usage is a crucial aspect of film and when not done correctly it can be devastating even to an otherwise fantastic movie.

Of course, this is not an otherwise fantastic movie. Affleck is annoying before you even see his face. To be fair, he did start to grow on me by the end, but I’m pretty sure that had more to do with the rest of the characters.  At first I wondered why his character would be so anti-social, but then it became clear; he has the most immediately unlikable family and friends imaginable. I can’t think of another film with so many genuinely unlikable characters.  None of them are relate-able as people. A good awkward movie is good because the awkwardness is familiar and understandable.  But all of the characters in this film are unpleasant – and they are definitely not helped by the awful fake accents that just make the dialog that much more painful to hear.

Thirty minutes in I wanted to stop watching. By an hour in I had checked the time remaining half a dozen times, and I really wanted to stop watching.  By and hour and forty-five minutes in I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to take anymore.  And then, inexplicably, it just ends abruptly without any resolution. Normally that would impress me, but this time it felt cheap; I had earned something more involved.

Maybe I’m out of practice. Maybe this is what passes for awkwardness in film these days.  In my day, we had people like Mark Duplass to show how awkwardness can be reveled in. I’d like to see him redo this film shot-for-shot with a better cast. The only actor that should stay in the Duplass version is Matthew Broderick. Yes, that’s right, Matthew Broderick is the single best part of Manchester by the Sea.  In fact, for his part I will give the film a whole extra point.

1/10

War Dogs

Note: This is the first part of a review double-header!  Jesse sent two recommendations in a single shot so I’m reviewing them at the same time.  Click here for the other review.

What Jesse said:

Two movies for you to watch: War Dogs, and Manchester by the Sea. Very different but excellent flicks. War Dogs is so absurd it will make you laugh and then wonder if the grownups really are in charge… also, it was funny ’cause it’s true (based on a real case). Manchester by the Sea was a pretty intense slow burn. Casey Affleck plays the main character. Watch out for the BAHS-ton accents. Family drama.

Mike’s verdict:

When does telling the truth ever help anyone?

This is not my kind of movie and I knew it right from the beginning. A ‘true story’ about arms dealers, Afghanistan, and the US government – it’s going to be fairly predictable and I have no doubt about Jesse’s ‘absurd’ label.  Indeed, guns, drugs, war, and banking movies are always the same kind of absurd: someone essentially good makes a series of obviously terrible decisions for the good of family or to get a friend out of a jam, or to just be comfortable for once in their life.  This movie fits the pattern perfectly and it means that there are no surprises as the plot develops.

Granted, that doesn’t mean it can’t be entertaining.  The kid from all the Shailene Woodley movies is okay as the naive ‘good guy’ just trying to get ahead. But I initially had trouble accepting him in the role because the life he starts with doesn’t seem that bad.  Jonah Hill is definitely effective as the unsavory partner. He seemed very similar to the character he played in The Wolf of Wall Street, but without the excess.  I can’t say that I liked either character very much; certainly not enough to be on their side.  I knew things would go poorly for them and I didn’t care.

On the other hand, Bradley Cooper‘s role is intriguing.  It’s a fairly small role in terms of screen-time, but he manages to steal the show.  I’d like to see a prequel about him that sets up the Albanian connection and perhaps presents a clearer justification for his involvement in the subsequent scheme.

In most other ways, this movie was entertaining enough to continue watching, but not so interesting that I would be upset if I was interrupted mid-viewing and had to stop watching.  This last thought explains how it is that I managed to watch three quarters of the film before it finally dawned on me that I had actually already watched it once before.  It must have been on the second or third leg of a really long flight because I obviously slept through most of it the first time.

In any case, I did not fall asleep during the second viewing and I was reasonable entertained all the way through.  I even enjoyed the sparse but well chosen music.  There’s always a danger with this type of movie to use overly aggressive music to reinforce themes, but that wasn’t the case here.

Overall,  War Dogs isn’t a great movie, but it isn’t a bad one either.  I was entertained and I think that’s all I would ask of it.

6/10

The Discovery

Note: Today we have another special guest recommendation!  I have a backlog of recommendations from Jesse but they’re all too hard to find right now and this one is readily available.

What Sam said:

Mike, you should watch The Discovery and let me know what you think. I value your opinion and think that you would thoroughly enjoy it. Kidding, I don’t really value your opinion but I really want to talk about it with someone and you are the only person I know with a movie blog. GFY!

Mike’s verdict:

At the heart of The Discovery is a fascinating thought experiment.  How would you react to knowing that there is an afterlife? Would it change how you live this life?  Now imagine you were told that a soul / spirit / consciousness / whatever left the body immediately after death, but with no indication of where it went.  Would not knowing the destination change how you felt?  How about if you were told that one scientist had evidence of something empirically measurable leaving the body immediately after death, but with no idea what that something is (maybe it’s not a consciousness at all) and with no idea where that something might go?

The latter scenario is where this film begins – science has reported something measurable leaving the body and society has, as it does, filled in all the unknowns with assumptions.  The most immediate result of this is that a not insignificant number of people across the world kill themselves under the assumption, or at least expectation, that there is another plane of existence and – crucially – that it is better.

There is a lot to consider in this thought experiment.  To start with, there is the obvious problem of determining what biological or physical occurrences would be convincing as evidence of a consciousness that can exist separate from the body.  Then of course there is the problem of figuring out where that consciousness actually goes. Interesting questions for sure, but these are in fact not the point of the film.  While the science considerations are distracting (they definitely distracted me at first), the real point of this film is to explore how science fits into society at the crossroads of the empirical colliding with the spiritual.

It’s typically accepted that religion won’t give concrete evidence for its assertions – indeed many would argue that faith without evidence is the point of faith.  This of course is almost anathema to science, which has at its core tenant that assertions must be verifiable and reproducible.  And yet, a case could be made (as I think it is being made in this film) that society doesn’t necessarily hold science to its own standard. The exploitation of scientific reporting by news media looking for anything sensational to sell advertisements is undoubtedly a concerning trend, but this is only possible because society is just as inclined to accept the word of science as it is the word of spiritual leaders – and just as likely to get these words very confused.

The Discovery isn’t about the idea of an afterlife, it’s an indictment of a society that is willing to take on faith (whether spiritually or scientifically) the notion of something beyond. The implication is that people want so badly to find something better, that they are willing to accept anything that will help substantiate their hope. Belief in an afterlife is a potent example to make that point, but it can just as easily be applied to any issue that science and religion makes claims about – so, everything really.  And in making this case, the film highlights the hypocrisy of expecting science to take responsibility for not having all the answers, while allowing religion to actually rely on not having all the answers.

Unfortunately, the narrative gets a little off track nearing the end as it attempts to actually make some sense of the science that it invents.  I would have preferred a more ambiguous ending so that the main questions could stick with the audience rather than allowing everything to be confused by complicated alternate realities.

Beyond the main focus, I liked most other aspects of the film. Robert Redford was fairly convincing as the (initially) socially clueless scientist and Jason Segel was equally believable as the reluctant skeptic; though at times I felt like I was watching the same character he played in Jeff Who Lives at Home. Rooney Mara was an interesting choice for a role that is almost-but-not-quite the manic pixie dream girl.  Her character has substance, but in the end she exists (rather literally) to explain Segel’s protagonist, and that’s a bit disappointing.

On the concept alone I would rate this film a full 10/10. But taking into consideration the odd direction of the plot in the end, it gets knocked down to 8/10.