Nostalgia Factory

 Movies: various

Throughout the pandemic, I've had the chance to rewatch some films that I love, but hadn't seen in a while. You'll notice that these films all came out between 1997 and 2006--a very critical period of growth in my life. I was between the ages of 12 and 21 when these movies came out, so they sort of stick with me the way the music you loved in college sticks with you. They feel quintessentially *me*. I was delighted at how well they hold up upon review a decade plus later. Enjoy!

Being John Malkovich

Being John Malkovich might just be my pick for the most unique film concept of all time. A man, Craig Schwartz (John Cusack in a creepy "nice guy" role), discovers a portal into John Malkovich. No, I'm not talking about Malkovich's butthole. This seemingly innocuous tunnel puts the person "inside" Malkovich's body, so that they see, feel, taste, and hear what Malkovich sees, feels, tastes, and hears. After 15 minutes, they are spit out on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike. After Craig blabs about this to his ice queen crush, Maxine (Catherine Keener), she immediately plots how they can make big bucks selling "tickets to Malkovich". But eventually, Malkovich (played by...John Malkovich) finds out and is not happy, to say the lease.

This film, written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Spike Jonze, simultaneously feels deeply philosophical and goofy as all hell. I am shocked they managed to not only get such a strange film released, but that the film is actually...amazing. It's amazing. It hits all the right notes of comedy, tragedy, darkness, and ridiculousness perfectly. 

John Malkovich was interviewed about Being John Malkovich and he stated, "Either the movie's a bomb and it's got not only my name above the title, but my name in the title, so I'm fucked that way; or it does well and I'm just forever associated with this character." Well, I'm glad he took the chance because "Being Tom Cruise" would have not been a fraction as wonderful as Being John Malkovich.

Grade: A+

***

American Splendor

American Splendor is a film that celebrates the average man and how interesting and beautiful a boring, even crummy, life can be. Paul Giamatti stars as Harvey Pekar, a real-life comic writer and creator of the comic "American Splendor". Ask 100 people on the street who Harvey Pekar is, and you'd be lucky if one person recognized his name. He's like a less-famous R. Crumb, and people *barely* know who R. Crumb is. 

Giamatti perfectly captures Pekar's grumpiness and contempt for all things phony. Movie scenes are intercut with casual interviews with the real Harvey Pekar, who gets to add his own commentary to the film and how he is portrayed. Hope Davis plays Joy Brabner, Harvey's wife, and a pretty salty gal in her own right. The film chronicles Harvey's younger years all the way up through his bout with testicular cancer, which he beat in the mid-90s. 

"Ordinary life is pretty complex stuff" is the film's tagline, and really is the sort of the motto Harvey lived by, and certainly is remembered by. Even as he gained success as a comic artist, he couldn't quit his job as a file clerk because he just didn't make enough money. Starving artists have been part of humanity since time immemorial and some of the most profound art in history didn't net the artist much money at the time. Hopefully, American Splendor will encourage a few people to check out Pekar's work, or at least remind viewers that it's ok to be ordinary.

Grade: A+

***

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer

I actually reviewed this movie a few years ago when I did a mega-review of so-called "sick" films. The reason I included Tom Tyker's lush, intoxicating story of a serial killer with a superhuman sense of smell is because an acquaintance in college told me that it was a "disgusting movie with disgusting ideas". She also said "America isn't ready for a Black president", so I would take any of her opinions with a shaker of salt.

But maybe Perfume IS sick. So what? Who says sick movies are inherently bad? Guess what fuckos, LIFE is sick! *sunglasses emoji* Ok, ok, I think I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder about that girl and her comment, the implication being that anyone who enjoys this ~unarguably amazing~ movie is "sick" themselves.

Ben Whishaw plays Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a baby born in a fish market in 1730s Paris. Although he is abandoned as a child, Grenouille survives against all odds and grows up to realize that he is not like other people. For one, his sense of smell is off the charts. He can smell EVERYTHING, and he can remember all smells and recall them from memory alone. But in addition to this talent, Grenouille is also a psychopath. He has no sense of guilt or regret, and he can easily murder when it suits him. 

After accidentally murdering a beautiful young woman whose smell is absolute heaven to Grenouille, he takes an apprenticeship with the perfumer Giuseppe Baldini (Dustin Hoffman) and eventually makes his way to Grasse, the epicenter of perfumery. After some trial and error, Grenouille realizes that he can capture a woman's scent by killing her, slathering her in animal fat, and then distilling that fat into an essence. Grenouille's goal is to make the most lovely, mind-blowing perfume of all time by distilling the essence of 13 young ladies, including the daughter of nobleman Antoine Richis (Alan Rickman). 

The ending of this film is one for the record books. Grenouille is captured and is sentenced to a terrible death by having all of his limbs broken on a public stage. But when he is brought to the platform to be executed in front of all of Grasse he whips his little bottle of perfume out and waves it around. The executioner proclaims "This man is innocent!" The crowd IMMEDIATELY begins to wildly fuck in an orgy of pure lust and bliss. And Richis falls to his knees and calls his daughter's murderer "my son". Damn. That's some good perfume.

Despite Perfume's wild plot, the film is really just a love letter to the senses. Smell is an especially powerful sense--one whiff and it can take us back in time, to grandma's kitchen, to the arms of our first lover, to the backyard where we played with a favorite pet. Smell is a time machine. And somehow this movie, based on Patrick Suskind's "unfilmable" novel, manages to capture scent through visuals and music. Truly, an amazing accomplishment. 

Also, word to the wise: watch Perfume after indulging in a little, uh, "Grasse". Really enhances the experience.

Grade: A

***

Boogie Nights

Speaking of sick movies. Here is a film I watched WAY too young. I think I first saw P.T. Anderson's homage to the 1970s LA porn scene when I was like, 15 years old. I was genuinely upset at the depictions of violence, particularly sexual violence, against women in the film.

Upon watching it in college, and then again in grad school, I appreciated it much more--but it still left a bad taste in my mouth.

Now, watching it at the jaded age of 35, I can safely say that this film is fucking hilarious and great on all levels. The acting, the music (THE MUSIC!!), the humor...it's just *chef's kiss*. Anderson knew what he was doing with each scene and each line. 

Mark Walhberg plays Eddie Adams, a barely legal kid who is "discovered" by adult filmmaker and producer Jack Horner (Burt Reynolds) washing dishes in a disco club. Jack thinks Eddie has something special. Turns out Eddie *does* have something special: a dig ol' bick. You know, a trouser snake. A baby maker. A meat loaf. What did people call dicks in the 70s? I need to find some vintage Cosmo magazines.

Anyway, Eddie can't act for shit, but he can fuck, come, take five, and fuck again. Oh, to be 18 again. Eddie, now going by the nom de plume "Dirk Diggler", quickly integrates into Jack's gang of porn stars. Among them are Buck Swopes (Don Cheadle), Amber Waves (Julianne Moore), Becky Barnett (Nicole Ari Parker), Reed Rothchild (John C. Reilly), and Roller Girl (Heather Graham). It's all fun, games, fucking, and sucking for most of the movie. But then drugs get involved and drugs always tend to screw things up. There's also a subplot about a porn financier who gets busted for child pornography! Yep, the Los Angelos porn scene in the late 70s/early 80s was as fucked up as it was glamorous. 

Boogie Nights is an epic dramedy that doesn't really serve up any life lessons (other than "don't bring a gun to a drug deal"), but it does humanize its semi-ridiculous characters. I have no idea what real sex workers think of Boogie Nights, but personally I find it to be a straight-up masterpiece.

Grade: A+

***

O Brother, Where Art Thou

This oddball film from the Coen brothers is loosely based on The Odyssey, but you need not have read Homer's classic in order to enjoy the movie. George Clooney, Tim Blake Nelson, and John Turturro play Everett, Delmar, and Pete--three escapees from a chain-gang in 1930s Mississippi. Everett is a smooth talker and has convinced Pete and Delmar to help him escape in exchange for a share of a treasure he hid before going to prison.

During their travels, the three men encounter unique people, such as a blues singer who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for guitar skills (this character is based on the real life blues artist Robert Johnson), and a one-eyed Bible salesman (John Goodman). They also record a song at a radio station, purely for the quick money it nets them. But unbeknowst to the men, the song--"Man of Constant Sorrow"--becomes a hit and everyone in Mississippi is trying to figure out who the mysterious "Soggy Bottom Boys" are. 

O Brother, Where Art Thou is famous for it's excellent soundtrack, which deservingly won the Grammy for Album of the Year in 2002. But in addition to its wonderful music, the film is also funny as hell. My dad loves it and quotes from it all the time: "I'll only be 82!", "this horse is startin' to turn". etc. 

O Brother, Where Art Thou is among my top Coen brothers' films. Basically, The Big Lebowski, Fargo, and this one are all tied for first place. The Coens are masters at giving the viewer a strong sense of time and place. They are also masters at writing dialogue that is clever, hilarious, and memorable. O Brother, Where Art Thou is feel-good film that's a delight to return to time and again.

Grade: A+

***

Brokeback Mountain

Y'all, I was obsessed with Brokeback Mountain when it first came out. Just ask my college roommate! At the tender age of 19, the thought of Jake Gyllenhaal (bae) and Heath Ledger (rest-in-peace bae) making out in a tent was THE most erotic thing I could imagine and I was all-in. It is only with time that I really appreciate the second half of the film which has less kissin' and more cryin'. Because it's with time that you appreciate how lovely and rare a deep love connection is. 

Brokeback Mountain is as much a tragedy--one that effects not just the main characters, but everyone in their lives--as a romance. Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar are supposed to be 19 years old when they spend that fateful summer on Brokeback. Just a couple of poor kids looking to make a buck through difficult and dangerous labor. They barely say more than a few sentences to each other, and then one freezing night they share a tent and frantically, almost randomly, fuck in the middle of the night. It's honestly not that romantic of a scene. I mean, it's just 19 year old horny dudes taking comfort in a warm body. "You know I ain't queer" Ennis says the next morning. "Me neither", replies Jack.

But what makes this liaison different than one of convenience is that it carries on for years afterward. It's clear that what Jack and Ennis have is more than just lust. Ennis clearly likes Jack more than his own wife, the long-suffering Alma (Michelle Williams) and Jack gently brings up the possibility of living together multiple times. But each time, Ennis shuts this dream down, citing the murder of two ranchers who lived together in his hometown. Sadly, it turns out that Ennis was right to warn Jack: months after their final weekend together as "fishing buddies", Jack dies. His wife (Anne Hathaway) tells Ennis it was a mishap with an exploding tire, but Ennis knows in his bones that Jack was beaten to death, just like those ranchers from his childhood. Jack was only 39.

Jack's sad fate begs the question: could his life had been spared if he and Ennis ran away together? The film ends in 1983, by no means a "good time" for queer men, but certainly a time where Ennis and Jack could have taken their chances and moved out of Wyoming to a more tolerant area. Alas, it was not to be, and the heartbreaking final scene that finds Ennis alone in his tiny home, cuddling Jack's shirt, will bring tears to your eyes. 

Brokeback Mountain holds up as a slow, beautiful portrait of queer love during a time and place where such a thing would 100% get you fired, beat up, or much worse. It's also a reminder to us all to "run at love" (as Patton Oswalt says in his latest stand up special). Don't waste time because tomorrow is promised to no one.

Grade: A-

***

A Clockwork Orange

Every so often, a film comes out that is not good, not great, but one of the greatest of all time. Kubrick's iconic adaptation of Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange is one such film. Somehow, this film is excellent on *every* level: cinematography, acting, music, dialogue, story and is STILL greater than the sum of its very great parts. 

Following the misadventures of Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell, in a career-defining role), a "droog" in Britain in the not-too-distant future, A Clockwork Orange asks big questions such as "what is the nature of good versus evil" and "do we have free will?" Alex is the head of a gang of young men who rape women, beat up old men, and steal. These motherfuckers are supposed to be like, 16 years old. After murdering one of his victims, Alex is arrested and sent to prison. But when he hears about a new program that turns bad men good and gets people out of prison quickly, he signs up for the "Ludivico technique". You have to be living under a rock to have not seen the disturbing image of McDowell strapped to a chair with his eyes forced open as he is forced to watch violent and sexual films after being injected with nausea and fear-inducing drugs. The result is that at the slightest whiff of violence (and boobs), Alex--like Pavlov's dogs--has an immediate reaction of feeling violently ill. He would rather lick the boots of a man who punches him rather than punch back.

Two problems here. One: Alex is essentially a defanged, declawed cat--unable to fight back against a world that is still very cruel and uncaring. Two: the Ludivico technique inadvertently ruined the one thing that keeps sociopathic Alex tied to humanity and emotions--his beloved "lovely, lovely Ludwig van". The films Alex is forced to watch have Beethoven on the soundtrack (weird choice for a film reel about concentration camps, but ok) and so now upon hearing his favorite artist, he literally wants to kill himself. Was it worth removing Alex's violent instincts if it also removed the very thing that made him human?

But luckily (???) Alex's horrible fate doesn't last long. After being nearly killed by his old gang, who are cops now (LOL, even in the future all cops are bastards). Alex stumbles to the nearest home--which turns out to be the home of a subversive writer whose wife Alex and his droogs raped years before. The man is set on revenge and blasts Beethoven's 9th, causing Alex to attempt suicide by jumping out a window. In doing so, the Ludivico technique is reversed and Alex wakes up to discover "I was cured, all right!".

What are we to make of Alex? He is a violent rapist, lacking in empathy and regret. He is also a product of his violent society and his indifferent upbringing. A Clockwork Orange has never not been relevant, as our (well, our American) criminal justice system does more to perpetuate violence and apathy than it does to curb crime. Burgess' novel and Kubrick's film are both incredibly controversial as they ask you to consider the well-being and rights of a violent criminal. But if we don't see young men such as Alex as fully human, aren't we simply as monstrous as they are, if not more?

Grade: A+