Waiting in the Wings

Movies: Birdman

There are probably spoilers in here somewhere, so ye be warned.

Money, power, sex--all primary motivators for getting off our asses and getting shit done in this world. But what driving force is behind these three (and many other) goals? Validation. The feeling that our unique, special lives actually mean something in a sea of billions and billions of other lives that have lived, currently live, and will live on earth. We want to be special. We want to be adored. We want to be remembered.

The film Birdman (or, the Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) wrestles with the issue of validation, particularly external validation. I'd be interested in hearing what actors think of this film, as they are often stereotyped as being narcissistic and needy, with their locus of control firmly external.

Michael Keaton, in a bravura performance, plays Riggan Thomson, an aging actor best known for his role as "Birdman", a gravely-voiced superhero (clearly modeled on Batman, whom Keaton played in the late 80's/early 90's). Riggan walked away from the Birdman franchise because he didn't want to let it define him as an actor, despite making gobs of money and becoming world famous because of the role. Now, Riggan is in his 50's, with wrinkles, an ex-wife, and a resentful adult daughter, Sam (Emma Stone, also great). Worst of all, Riggan is becoming irrelevant. As Sam, points out, he doesn't even have a Facebook account.

To make a final grab at relevancy, Riggan has put his money, time, and energy into adapting and staring in a theatre production of Raymond Carver's "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love". During the previews leading up to opening night, Riggan is forced to contend with a series of problems, including an annoying prima donna co-star, Mike Shriner (Edward Norton, never better), who throws tantrums and gets raging erections onstage.  But even offstage there is no rest for the weary Riggan: Sam, a recovering drug addict, acts bitchy to him; Laura, his lover (the luminous Andrea Riseborough), might be pregnant; and most disturbing of all--Riggan is haunted by Birdman himself. The gravely voice is always in his ear, telling him he's old and washed up, that no one cares about his stupid play, and that he'll be forgotten unless he once again dons the bird suit.

 Birdman would have easily worked as a straightforward film about actors and their egos. The excellent performances by basically everyone in a lead or secondary role propel Birdman into "great film" territory. But director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu takes the film to greater heights by boldly (and, I'd argue, masterfully) using elements of magical realism juxtaposed against a filmmaking technique grounded in hyperrealism. Just what the fuck am I talking about? Well, Birdman was shot in such a way that the film appears to be all one continuous take. He didn't actually film it in one take, but there are no cutaways (or, if there were, I missed them) and the camera just keeps moving from scene to scene, often following the actors as they mess around backstage and then move onstage. Of course, the movie itself is two hours long and the plot covers about a week's worth of events, so the lack of cutting is more of a gimmick than an attempt to show the events unfold in real time, but it's truly interesting work.

On top of this, Inarritu injects some fantastical elements. We're introduced to Riggan as he levitates above the ground in lotus position. Moments later, he moves physical objects with his mind like it ain't no thang. As I mentioned above, Riggan is bedeviled by Birdman--both the voice and the physical presence of the iconic superhero. So the audience is left wondering: is he crazy? Is this really happening? Or is this just symbolic?

Personally, I fell on the symbolic side. To me, Riggan hearing the voice of Birdman was akin to being tormented by negative self-talk. And his ability to move things with his mind was a symbol for his need for control. But the movie plays coy about what's actually going on, particularly in the final scene.

I can see how some people would find the lack of scene cuts and the fantasy elements to be pretentious and artsy-fartsy, but I really liked all of it. I feel that Inarritu made a genuine effort to creatively explore the issues mentioned above--validation, ego, aging, and acting--without just being weird for the sake of being weird. But then again, I have a fairly high tolerance for weird, so I may be biased.

Overall, I loved Birdman. I thought it was funny, but also sincere. As I mentioned above, the acting is excellent all around--particularly given that the film pokes fun at actors. It takes balls for an actual "washed up", aging star, as many would consider Keaton to be, to play a washed up, aging star. And Ed Norton delightfully sinks his teeth into the role of a narcissistic, preening actor (the aforementioned erection scene got some of the biggest laughs in the theatre).

Birdman is set to win--or at least be heavy competition for--some Oscars this year, and it is certainly deserving of acclaim. It has the distinction of being weird and entertaining without trying too hard.

A

Some More Catching Up

Movies: The Imitation Game, Big Eyes, Proxy, and The Thin Man

Alright guys, after going on a movie-watching blitz over the past month, I'm in need of a catch-up post. Here are some Reader's Digest Condensed reviews of the movies I've watched recently.

The Imitation Game

For all the homoerotic slash fiction written about him, and the unflattering comparisons people make about him, it's easy to forget that Benedict Cumberbatch is actually a pretty good actor. The Imitation Game is a good--but not great--movie that elevates Cumberbatch above his cultural position as the most meme-able actor. Based on Andrew Hodges' biography Alan Turing: The Enigma, The Imitation Game tells the story of Turing, one of the many people who had a hand in creating the modern computer (no single person can be said the have "invented" the computer or the Internet, with apologies to Al Gore). Turing accomplished much in his short life, and with a group of colleagues at Bletchley Park, was able to crack the Enigma machine and thus crack coded Nazi messages, which helped the allies win WWII.

Instead of being treated as the hero he was, Turing was arrested and charged with indecency for soliciting sex with a man. He chose chemical castration over jail and died--likely by suicide--two years later. It's all too easy to look back at this period in history and say "well, they had a different culture back then". That's a sad excuse when you consider what other contributions Turing and other LGBTQ individuals could have given the world if their lives hadn't been constrained and cut short. Or, hell, forget contributions. They simply could have lived and loved like anyone else. 

The Imitation Game covers the events at Bletchley Park, as well as Turing's years in boarding school and his love for his friend, Christopher. The film isn't particularly remarkable, but it is well made, interesting, and boasts an excellent performance by Cumberbatch as the unsociable, blunt, and repressed Turing and Keira Knightley as his gentle, steadfast friend.

B-

 ***

Big Eyes

I wrote a brief review of Big Eyes in my "Best Of 2014" post, so I won't go into too much detail here. Big Eyes tells the story of artist Margaret Keane, known for her portraits of children with giant eyes. In the mid 1950's, Keane (nee Ulbrich) left an unhappy marriage and moved herself and her young daughter to San Francisco. There, she met Walter Keane, a charismatic aspiring artist who drew Parisian street scenes. The two fell in love and married quickly. Walter Keane encouraged Margaret's artistic side, but when the paintings began to sell, he began taking credit for them himself. He convinced Margaret to go along with the scheme (which was technically fraud) through a combination of gentle persuasion ("Nobody wants to buy lady art!", "We share the same wallet") and outright emotional abuse. After years of creating paintings that were sold under Walter's name, Margaret once again gathered the courage to leave a bad marriage. She then took Walter to court for slander and won.

Big Eyes is a delightful film directed by Tim Burton. It is one of Burton's most realistic and serious films in a long time, though there is enough of a wisp of his wacky humor and surrealism to give Big Eyes the edge it needs to transcend boring biopic hell. Burton really was an excellent choice to bring this unusual story to the big screen.

Amy Adams is wonderful as Margaret, a woman both strong and very, very naive. Christoph Waltz goes a bit over the top with the typical charismatic abuser schtick that he does so well, but I love the actor so much that I didn't mind watching him do his thing even if I didn't fully buy it. Bit parts played by Jason Schwartzman, Danny Huston, and Krysten Ritter round out the film and give it some additional color.

B+

***

Proxy

Talk about a bat-shit crazy film. Proxy is a psychological thriller available streaming on Netflix. In some ways it reminded me of Possession, the 1981 film about a woman's descent into insanity, only Proxy is 1,000 times more interesting and 1,000 times less insufferable than Possession (a film I gave the lowest rating ever to on this blog). I can't tell you too much because Proxy is a film that has the ability to shock and surprise over and over again.

Bare bones plot outline (or feel free to stop reading if you want to see it with a 100% clean slate of ignorance): a young woman named Esther is the victim of a violent crime while she is enormously pregnant. In the wake of this traumatic event, she attends a support group and meets a woman, Melanie, who appears sympathetic and understanding. However, Esther finds out some information about Melanie that suggests Melanie is not being honest with Esther. That's basically all I can say without giving too much away.

I went back and forth on Proxy, at times thinking it was an over-the-top piece of garbage, and at other times thinking it was riveting and genius. One thing is undeniable though: you will be thrown for a loop if you watch this bizarre film.

B-

***

The Thin Man

Don't you just love comedies from the 1930's and 40's? I know I do. I like how sassy they are and how fresh they feel even today. The Thin Man is 80 years old, but feels like it could have been written yesterday. It's the first in a series of films staring William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles, a couple who drink, investigate crimes, drink, flirt, drink, and drink. This is the first Thin Man movie I've seen, so I can't speak for the sequels, but it seems that the big draw to these movies is the witty banter and playfulness between the leads. 

Nick is called upon to investigate the murder of Julia Wolf, a secretary to an inventor, Clyde Wynant, who has recently gone missing. After talking to various people, including Wynant's ex-wife, daughter, and employee, Nick realizes that the problem isn't a lack of suspects--it's too many suspects. Everyone seems to have a motive for killing Julia. Nick and Nora hatch a scheme to suss out the murderer, which climaxes in a hilarious and delightful scene. The 1930's must have been awesome, since according to The Thin Man, murder was a perfectly good excuse to throw a party.

A-

The Best and the Rest of 2014

Movies: Best Of

I was looking back over this blog and I realized that I've seen relatively few movies this year. By my count, I saw *about* 24 movies in the theatre, plus a dozen or so On Demand/Netflix. That might seem like a lot to you, but during my movie-going heyday circa 2011-2012 (when I lived in Nashville and had a membership to the best theatre in existence) I saw almost double those numbers.

So here we are. I haven't seen Boyhood or Birdman yet, but I don't know when I will, so I'm going to go ahead and do my best of list. Overall, I found the films of 2014 to be less impressive and exciting than the films of 2013 and 2012, where I really agonized over which films were "the best" versus "my favorite". This year, the majority of the films I saw were undeniably good, but there were very few that punched me right in the gut the way Her, 12 Years a Slave, and Moonrise Kingdom did in previous years. Still, some of the movies on this list are remarkably creative. Here's how I would rank them:

11) Foxcatcher

The main emotion I felt during Foxcatcher, a film based on the true story of the relationship between rich weirdo John du Pont and Olympic gold winning wrestlers Mark and Dave Schultz, was a deep, gnawing lack of comfort. This discomfort can be attributed to Steve Carell's excellent performance as du Pont, a man who was beyond strange and beyond wealthy. Director Bennett Miller succeeds in maintaining such an eerie atmosphere for over 2 hours that the violent events at the conclusion of the film almost come as a relief.

10) Big Eyes

I haven't reviewed Tim Burton's Big Eyes yet since I saw it just yesterday, but I had to include it since it is a delightful little movie and a throwback to Burton's earlier films (think Ed Wood, not Alice in Wonderland) where he regularly tackled the politics of "polite society" and the pressures to conform. Amy Adams gives an understated performance as Margaret Keane, the woman behind the wildly popular (and very kitchsy) paintings of children with huge, sad eyes in the early 1960's. Although she did all the paintings herself, her domineering, narcissistic husband, Walter Keane, took credit for the paintings as they became increasingly profitable. Why did Margaret go along with these lies for so long? The film traces her relationship with Walter (she was a divorcee and single mother when she met him) from its romantic beginning to abusive end, revealing the reasons why she felt she could not stand up her husband. The one beef I have with the movie is that Christoph Waltz gives a bit of an over-the-top performance as Walter Keane. Waltz has made a career out of playing intelligent, gentlemanly sadists, which is exactly what Walter Keane was. But Waltz didn't need to turn him into a borderline-comic ogre. A little subtly would have been appropriate for the role.

9) The One I Love

How about a romantic dramedy with science-fiction elements? The One I Love makes the list for sheer creativity and wack-a-doodleness, along with fun performances by Elisabeth Moss and Mark Duplass. I can't say much lest I reveal one of about five plot twists, but the film centers on a married couple who spend the weekend at a vacation home in order to reconnect and heal old wounds. And then a bunch of weird, metaphysical shit goes down. If you can suspend your disbelief, The One I Love is a fun and creepy look at the struggle to accept our romantic partners as they truly are, not as they potentially could be.

8) Gone Girl 

"Acidic", "razor wire", "twisted". These are a few of the phrases used to describe David Fincher's Gone Girl, as well as Gillian Flynn's novel. Indeed, the film is either difficult to watch or extremely pleasurable and exciting, depending on the sentimental value one attaches to the institution of marriage. A man who is a bit of a dope, and also a cheater (Ben Affleck in the role he was born to play!), marries a woman who seems to be super cool, but hides oceans of anger and resentment below her blonde beauty surface (Rosamund Pike, also perfectly cast). Gone Girl is not only well-acted and well-directed, but just flat-out entertaining.

7) The Fault in Our Stars 

And here we have the opposite of Gone Girl: a love story that is so earnest and pure, yet somehow avoids being treacly. Teenagers Hazel Grace Lancaster and Augustus Waters meet at a cancer support group for young adults. Hazel Grace, though fiercely intelligent, is basically running out the clock on her life, waiting for the inevitable day where the clusters of cancerous cells in her lungs will kill her. Gus seems to be out of the woods after losing a leg to bone cancer. They fall deeply in love--perhaps all the more deeply knowing that time is very precious. The Fault in Our Stars--both the film and the wonderful novel it's based on--could have been schmaltzy and sentimental. Instead, Hazel Grace's biting sarcasm and Gus' vacillations between youthful self-importance and helpless fear flesh out the characters beyond two-dimensional tragic figures and make us believe in their love.

6) Selma

Selma is undoubtedly a timely film. With the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner (and countless others) endlessly debated on the news and all around the Internet, seeing a cop gun down a young, black man for no reason early on in Selma is like a punch to the nose. Many Americans (mostly, but not limited to, white) desperately want to believe that racism is a thing of the past because if it is not something to be left to the history books, we might be complicit in it. Ironically, the only way to move forward towards harmonious race relations is to admit our part in the problem and figure out ways to change not only our laws and culture, but our personal prejudices and assumptions--which is exceedingly difficult for groups of people who benefit from racism (and other "isms").

Selma stares historical racism dead in the eye, but refuses to end on a cynical note. Notably, it tells the story of the march from Selma to Montgomery through the eyes of the people most affected by the march: black people. And not just Martin Luther King Jr., although he is certainly at the center of the story. Coretta Scott King, John Lewis, Annie Lee Cooper, James Bevel, and many other civil rights activists get their moment in the spotlight as well, giving depth and authenticity to this story. It's a story of a community coming together to fight for the simple right to be treated with dignity, as equals. And it subtly points out that the fight isn't over yet.

5) The Grand Budapest Hotel 

The Grand Budapest Hotel is the film that shot Wes Anderson onto the shortlist of Oscar contenders for Best Director. Ironically, I don't think it's his best film (personally, I'd consider Rushmore and Moonrise Kingdom tied for best, but others may disagree). Still, it's fantastic to see this whimsical director finally get his due. Some complain that all Wes Anderson movies are the same, and I don't disagree. They are remarkably similar both in style (colorful, symmetrically framed) and theme (Daddy issues. Lots and lots of Daddy issues). But the man has a crystal clear vision and he pulls it off every time and has his fans (and, increasingly, more "mainstream" viewers) coming back for more.

The Grand Budapest Hotel centers on the adventures of M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes), a concierge of the titular hotel who moonlights as a gigolo to older women (he gives them the "boyfriend experience"). Fiennes makes this movie. His portrayal of M. Gustave, a man with impeccable manners, wit, and creativity, encapsulates the Wes Anderson universe perfectly--a universe we could only dream of living in, so instead we watch our dreams flicker to life for a couple hours in Anderson's candy-colored fantasies.

4) Nymphomaniac: Vols. 1 and 2

Easily the most controversial film on this list (Entertainment Weekly put Nymphomaniac on its "Worst of 2014" list), I just...I dunno, "loved" might be too strong a word...was intrigued and glued to the screen when I watched both parts of Lars von Trier's story of a self-described "nymphomaniac". Certain scenes really stood out to me: the scene where Joe (the main character, played by both Stacy Martin and Charlotte Gainsbourg) and her school friends renounce love by chanting "mea vulva, mea maxima vulva"; the scene where Joe seeks out the services of a "pain artist" and is given forty lashes while tied to a couch on Christmas Day; the troubling and also completely appropriate ending of the film. Plenty of people would consider Nymphomaniac (and, indeed, most of von Trier's work) and lot of pretentious hooey--and I wouldn't blame them at all! It is pretentious, and maybe the only reason I like his work is because so many people hate it. But where others see nothing but misogyny and bullshit, I--100% serious--see art. Call me crazy! I loved Nymphomaniac.

3) Snowpiercer

Where The One I Love has metaphysical craziness, Snowpiercer has spatial craziness. Taking place on a giant train that continuously circles the globe after the earth has frozen over in the wake of a man-made disaster, Snowpiercer was probably hands down the most creative and unique film film I saw this year. Using its cramped, dystopian setting as a lens to explore class conflict, director Bong Joon-Ho not only dazzles (and repulses) the audience's eyes with set-pieces and fight scenes as a group of rebels from the "foot" of the train tries to make it to the wealthy front of the train, he also makes us think about what it takes to keep the 1% living their lives of sinful comfort while the majority of the world's population eat bugs for dinner. Based on the graphic novel by Jacques Lob, Jean-Marc Rochette, and Benjamin Legrand, Snowpiercer is an entertaining, sickening, wild ride from start to finish.

2) Wild

Based on the memoir by Cheryl Strayed, Wild was so much more than I expected it to be. With a wonderful lead performance by Reese Witherspoon, I went into Wild thinking it was going to be a mildly gritty tale of girl power where sunny Reese would barely break a sweat. Instead, Wild is a love letter from a daughter to her mother as well as a story where a woman makes a choice to turn her life around in the least sentimental, most profound way possible. Strayed is an atheist who finds her soul on the Pacific Crest Trail. She's a feminist who craves the company of men. She's a loving daughter who becomes the very person her mother would not want her to be in the wake of her mother's death. Strayed represents the contradictions inherent in all of us, making this film relatable even to those who have never struggled with debilitating grief or hiked so much as a single mile. Watching Strayed find her own way out of the wilderness touched me very deeply.

1) Whiplash

There are a lot of great movies on this list--serious ones, goofy ones, and everything in between. But the best time I had at the theatre this year was when I saw Whiplash, a frenetic, intense little drama about the relationship between a talented young jazz drummer (Miles Teller) and his sadistic, abusive teacher (J.K. Simmons in the best performance of the year). Where most of the films on this list are big--big casts, big ideas, epic scope--Whiplash is small. Intimate, really. And it has something I really dig in movies: moral ambiguity. Was Fletcher (the teacher) right to push Andrew (the student) to the breaking point? Did his "unorthodox" techniques serve to help a young musician bloom? Is total and complete dedication to one's craft the price one must pay for art that transcends mediocrity? Director Damien Chazelle teases us by never committing to a side on any of these questions, instead letting the audience decide for themselves. The sexy jazz soundtrack adds to Whiplash's edgy, nervy atmosphere which builds, and builds, and builds to a climactic final scene that is the perfect close to a near-perfect movie.

He kind of looks like a Nosferatu, doesn't he?









Honorable mentions: The Babadook, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Imitation Game, The Theory of Everything, Nightcrawler 

***

And some other superlatives!

Worst movie I saw (in the theatre) this year:

Tammy  
Boy, I wanted to like this Melissa McCarthy comedy, but it just wasn't funny. McCarthy's titular character wasn't just a fuck-up; she appeared to be mentally ill. And the "heartwarming" relationship between Tammy and her alcoholic grandma (played gamely by Susan Sarandon) seemed forced and awkward.

Movie that made my cold, dead ovaries explode with love:

The Babadook
It makes sense that a movie that explores the ambiguity of motherhood would be the one to tug at my fallopian tubes. Essie Davis plays a single mom trying her best with troubled son Sam. Her trials only get worse when Sam discovers a terrifying book on his shelf about a mysterious character named "Mr. Babadook" who begins to pop up in real life.

Nicole Kidman's Fake Nose Award:

Nightcrawler
In honor of the false nose Kidman wore in The Hours to play plain Virginia Woolf, this award goes to a hot actor/actress who slums it as an uggo in service to his/her craft. Jake Gyllenhaal lost a bunch of weight to play the opportunistic freelance videographer Louis Bloom in the creepy film Nightcrawler. Gyllenhaal looks rangy, like a hungry dog, with buggy eyes that never blink. Way to go, Jake! Now you know how most people when they look in the mirror and *don't* see a sexy puppy dog looking back at them.

See what I mean? Sexy puppy.















That's all folks! I hope you continue to tune in all through 2015 for more damn good coffee!

The Arc of the Moral Universe

Movies: Selma

Many millions of people try very hard every day to do good in this world. It's easy to forget that when we're accustomed to paying more attention to violence and hate. But I believe that in the end love and good are stronger than hate and evil. Hate can and does kill, definitely, but love and hope aren't based in the body--they're based in the spirit, and they can't be destroyed, even in death.

Martin Luther King Jr. understood this, and although his life was cut short by an assassin's bullet, he is proof that love and hope go on after death. His life, his words, his actions, and his memory inspire us today, even in the face of ugly racism and prejudice that still exist. King wasn't a typical man, or even a typical activist. He had something else. It almost seems as though King was touched by the very hand of God.

And so I was very happy that Selma, one of the few biopics to tackle King's legacy, handled his story (or rather, a small portion of his story) with grace and accuracy (for the most part). If you're going to make a film about the greatest American Civil Rights activist, you better not fuck it up.

Instead of tackling his entire life, director Ava DuVernay focuses on the months leading up to and during the march King lead from Selma, AL to Montgomery as a non-violent form of resistance against racist (and illegal) restrictions on voting in the area. This was a pivotal time in American history: President Johnson had already signed the Civil Rights Act the summer before the marches, but certain areas of the south still put up barriers to prevent black Americans from voting. The march at Selma (and pressure from King) spurred Johnson to push through the Voting Rights Act, which became law in July of that year (1965).

King and Johnson's relationship is the one aspect of Selma that's been called into question by many people, including one of King's fellow activists, Andrew Young. Young spoke out saying the film was very accurate to what happened in real life, except that Johnson was more on board with the Civil Rights Movement and had a less tenuous relationship with King than the film suggests. Selma indicates that Johnson (played with a touch of comic relief by Tom Wilkinson) wasn't fully on board with King until after he meets with the repulsive Governor George Wallace (Tim Roth, clearly eating up his role as racist asshole supreme in the few scenes he has). Even if this portrayal of Johnson isn't 100% accurate, the scenes with King and Johnson and Wallace and Johnson, are some of the best in the film.

Other scenes, such as the second attempt to march from Selma to Montgomery, are so powerful they sent chills down my spine. When the first attempt to march ends with Selma police beating the shit out of the marchers, King makes a call to people--particularly clergy--everywhere to come to Selma and try to march again. And answer the call they did: 8,000 people began the march in Selma, and by the time they reached Montgomery, there were 25,000 folks as part of the campaign (by the way, much thanks to Wikipedia for helping me with all these details!). Seeing nuns, priests, blacks, whites, women, and men all together in support of equal voting rights...well, powerful is an understatement.

David Oyelowo gives a spot-on performance as King, and it's fucking insane that he (and DuVernay) wasn't nominated for an Oscar. He captures King's cadence, accent, and mannerisms perfectly (based on my knowledge of footage I've seen of King). King struck me as someone both intellectual and down to earth, gentle yet unusually magnetic. He was obviously a very rare kind of leader who not only inspired people to take action, but kept them from acting out in violence with only his words and vision. I'm not sure we'll ever have another leader like King.

The only issues I had with Selma were the few problems typical to historical biopics. There was awkward name-dropping ("J. Edgar, what do you think about this?", etc) and a whole lot of speechifyin' (makes sense, given that King was an amazing speaker). More telling than showing in a few cases. The song that plays over the closing credits, which was nominated for Best Original Song, seemed anachronistic and out of place. But other than those few quibbles, the movie is excellent.

I have to say, though, that Selma didn't pack near the emotional punch as another film that looks at the black experience in American history: 12 Years a Slave (which, yes, I've promoted a billion time on this blog. Seriously, see it) had a far deeper emotional impact on me last year. Granted, as harrowing a story of the struggle for equal voting rights is, it has nothing on the sheer horror of slavery. Still, Selma could have been a touch less emotionally distant.

Overall, Selma is an excellent film that focuses on a small part of the decades-long struggle for civil rights so that the modern viewer can experience the depth of hatred and ignorance--and the triumph of community and equality. To paraphrase King: the arc of the moral universe is indeed long, but it does bend towards justice.

A

King (center) at Selma with John Lewis, Jesse Douglas, James Forman, and Ralph Abernathy (courtesy history.com)

And Some Other Stuff...

Movies, TV: Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Interview, Black Mirror

Readers, I promise I am getting around to my "Best of" list, but I still have a few items to review. Here's a little catch-up post with some movies and one excellent British TV series (very) briefly reviewed.


The Hunger Games: Mockingjay -- Part 1

Because I saw this movie, with its ridiculously unwieldy title, about a million years ago and don't remember much of it, I'm going to review it using haikus.

Revolution brews
JLaw is the Mockingjay
One film left til' done

Katniss is rescued
Pressed into being symbol
For revolution

They piss off Pres. Snow
He bombs the shit out of them
Still, they keep fighting

Peeta is brainwashed
Poor, poor Katniss Everdeen
Will this girl get laid?

Boom. Seriously, it took me 1/6 the time to write those than to attempt to explain the plot of this film.

B-

***

Guardians of the Galaxy

I'm not typically a fan of sci-fi action films based on comics, but even I couldn't deny the rip-roaring fun of Guardians of the Galaxy. It's got everything! An AWESOME soundtrack, Chris Pratt's abs (though to be honest, I like fat Chris Pratt more), a sarcastic raccoon, and GROOT.

I admit I had a somewhat difficult time following the plot, and the action sequences left my eyes glazed over. I have a lot of trouble with these kinds of films--movies where people have futuristic names like "Ronan the Accuser", and there's one person hunting another person but that person is hunting someone/something else, and there are magical stones that can destroy the universe. Bah. It's all pretty confusing given my brain's limited capacity for geek knowledge. But I had a very enjoyable time watching Guardians if only for the fast-flying wit and, let's be real, Chris Pratt (and his abs).

B

***

The Interview

When you compare it to last summer's pants-poopingly hilarious This is the End, this Seth Rogen-James Franco comedy is pretty weak sauce. But The Interview is destined to be remembered for a long time simply because of the Sony hack and brewhaha that followed. In case you've been living under a rock, some people calling themselves the "Guardians of Peace", aka GOP (an appropriately asshole acronym), hacked into Sony's computer infrastructure and really fucked up some shit. They released personal data, leaked sensitive emails, and wiped out entire servers. They also threatened a 9/11 type event if Sony released The Interview, a film in which Seth Rogen and James Franco assassinate Kim Jong-un. At first Sony decided not to release the film in theatres, and then they turned around and did release it in a few locations. But it doesn't matter because guess how long it took people who wanted to see the movie to find and watch the damn movie? About a millisecond because we live in 2015 and we haz internet. I guess the hackers forgot about that.

The Interview is pretty much what you'd expect from a Seth Rogen and James Franco comedy. It's intermittently clever, with pleasantly weird humor ("You honeydicking me?"; "They hate us cuz they ain' us!") and a generous helping of butt-related jokes. I drank heavily while I watched it and thoroughly enjoyed it. But it's not the kind of movie you threaten a nation over. Jesus! The Interview is worth a "9/11 type event" and yet Human Centipede gets a free pass? That's the real crime, if you ask me.

B-

***

Black Mirror

--> Minor spoilers <--

If you haven't yet watched this very depressing and very, very good show from the United Kingdom, get on dat. It's streaming on Netflix, so you don't have an excuse.

Black Mirror has been described as a modern version of The Twilight Zone, which is actually a fairly apt description. Characters in The Twilight Zone have a tendency to learn lessons too late and have to live (or die) with their stupid mistakes and failings. There are many characters who are "punished" in Black Mirror, but it's us, the audience, who ends up having our noses rubbed in our mistakes.

Sounds fun, right?


Black Mirror is centered around all the ways that we--people--have used technology (or *could* use technology, since most of the technological advances shown in the show don't quite exist yet) to destroy ourselves. As an example, the episode "The Entire History of You" takes place in a not-too-distant future in which people can have a "grain" implanted behind their ear that records everything they see and do, so they can relive their memories ad nauseam. It's groundbreaking technology, no doubt. In the episode, a man uses it to obsess over the questionable fidelity of his wife and ultimately destroy his marriage.

"The Entire History of You" and, indeed, all of the episodes of Black Mirror, is not about how technology is evil, but about how humankind can be cruel, apathetic, obsessive, jealous, and take delight in the humiliation of others. The show uses the concept futuristic technology to hold up a (black) mirror to humanity's weakest and basest instincts--who we are today, who we were yesterday, and who we may become. The show's creator, Charlie Brooker, says of the title: "[It] is the one you'll find on every wall, on every desk, in the palm of every hand: the cold, shiny screen of a TV, a monitor, a smartphone." It's a show for the modern age and it's done so well. I urge you to seek it out.

A-

The Road Less Taken

Movies: Wild

I was blown away by Wild. But that's not too much of a surprise. Having read Cheryl Strayed's Tiny Beautiful Things, a collection of her "Dear Sugar" advice columns, I knew that the story of Wild--how Strayed hiked over 1,000 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail alone to heal from her mother's death--would be an astounding, deeply touching one.

Strayed's philosophy on life, apparent in her "Dear Sugar" column, is one of radical empathy and forgiveness. And she traveled a most difficult path to get to that philosophy. Her dad was an abusive alcoholic, so her mom left him when Strayed was six. But although times were often tough for her family, the bond she had with her mother was unshakeable--so much so that it nearly destroyed Strayed when her mom was unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer and died just a month later when Strayed was 22. In her grief, she turned to promiscuous sex (she was married at the time to her first husband) and drugs, including heroin. Her decision to hike the Pacific Crest Trail came from seeing a trail guide about it in a convenience store and perhaps instinctively knowing that she needed something radically different and physically difficult to force herself back on the right path in life.

I haven't read Wild (though I definitely want to after seeing the movie), but I don't need to have read it to understand that it was a difficult book to adapt for the big screen. A significant chunk of the film is just Strayed on the trail by herself, with little or no dialogue. And nearly half the film is made up of flashbacks. But Nick Hornby, who adapted Strayed's memoir into a screenplay, did a masterful job. Although the flashbacks jump around in time, from moments in Strayed's childhood, to a "come to Jesus" moment with a friend who confronts her about her drug use, to visiting her mom in the hospital, they never feel disjointed or confusing. In fact, the atemporal nature of the flashbacks tell a richer, more holistic story about who Strayed is and where she came from. For the scenes where Strayed is alone on the trail, Hornby (and director Jean-Marc Vallee) use quiet voiceovers to represent Strayed's thoughts, or settled on no dialogue at all--just the sounds of nature. This was really effective, and the movie never dragged or left me bored.

And Reese Witherspoon's performance as Strayed. Wow. Witherspoon has a (perhaps unfair) reputation for playing good girls and goody two shoes (although one of her more edgy roles--Tracy Flick in Election--is also one of her best). But as Strayed, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty. Strayed was, in fact, a "good girl" right up until her mom died. She went to college while working full time and had ambitions and dreams. But her mother's death led her down a path she could never have fathomed. Witherspoon does these scenes, including having sex with two men in an alley and shooting up heroin in a flophouse, with a vulnerability that never comes off as overly dramatic or unrealistic. Even in the depths of her lowest moments, she's still very human and--you can tell--a strong woman. A woman who wants something better for herself. Witherspoon could have gnawed these scenes to death, but she doesn't. She's understated and believable.

Other good things about Wild include the wonderful soundtrack, with Simon and Garfunkel's beautiful "El Condor Pasa (If I Could)" popping up multiple times during the film. The music adds to the film rather than distract from it. Also, Laura Dern gives a joyous and heartbreaking performance as Strayed's mother, Bobbi. Dern's smile just lights up all the scenes she's in. It's easy to believe that the death of this woman would be so devastating to Strayed.

There are so few films that look at women's journeys and don't focus on romantic love. Wild really is unique in this regard. The film is a love story--between a mother and her daughter, and between a woman and her soul. It's also a tale of rebirth. When Cheryl Strayed hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, she wasn't just making an attempt to remove or lessen her grief--she was actively growing, with each step, each mistake, each scary night and blistered day, into the woman she always wanted to become. It's a beautiful story that in Hornby, Witherspoon, and Vallee's capable hands, is beautifully told.

A+