Only Connect

Movies: Her

Spike Jonze's latest film, Her, had the potential to be many negative things: creepy, cheesy, unrealistic. And yet somehow he directed a film of such sensitivity, such humanity, that I felt my heart swell near to bursting at the end.

Her is a movie where a guy falls in love with an operating system. Let's not mince words here. Basically, it's like someone falling in love with a more intelligent version of Siri. Can you imagine dirty talking with Siri (I bet you can, you perv!), because that is what happens in this movie. So you can see how easily Her could have been the butt of thousands of jokes.

Is it weird that when Joaquin Phoenix, playing the mild mannered Theodore Twombly, has sex (voice sex? aural sex? phone sex?) with Samantha, his new operating system voiced by Scarlett Johansson, it's kind of hot? And it's hot not just because, I mean, hey, ScarJo has a sexy voice, but because you believe it. The actors make you believe it. It's a little disturbing how easy it is to believe in this relationship.

Her takes place in some future time that doesn't seem very far off from 2014. People are still addicted to their gadgets, only now everyone sports ear pieces they can use to check and respond to email, shift through news feeds, get their favorite music pumped directly to their earholes, etc. Theodore works at a company that composes other peoples' letters for them, and he is a master letter writer with a talent for words and an understanding of both deep and subtle emotions. Theo is also still recovering from a separation from his wife (Rooney Mara) and is not ready to sign the divorce papers despite angry calls from her lawyer.



When Theo buys a new operating system for his computer and handheld gadget thingy, he's surprised by the OS's intelligence, wit, and ability to adapt and learn. This new OS was programmed to evolve, much like a human does, when fed new information. The OS names herself Samantha, and it's not long before Samantha and Theo's conversations turn from cleaning up his email inbox to romance.

If you're feeling a little squicked out by the thought of a guy cuddling up to a disembodied voice, don't worry: Her isn't a straightforward romance as much as it is an exploration of what it means to love someone.

Theo's ex-wife accuses him of needing her to be someone she's not and of being fundamentally selfish in love. Their conversation reminded me of a quotation from another film Spike Jonze directed (although Charlie Kaufman wrote it), Adaptation. In the movie, one character says "You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago." That line always stuck with me, and not as an implication that love is a selfish emotion, but that it's an individual emotion. We're all going around in our little bubbles, and it takes a lot of guts to open that bubble up and let someone else in. Sometimes we open up and face rejection. Other times we start a relationship only for it to end in some way or another--break-up, divorce, death. But even if the love wasn't mutual or permanent, it doesn't mean it wasn't important or meaningful.

It's a testament to Joaquin Phoenix's acting abilities that he was able to create a character who was lonely, but not pathetic. I don't think I've ever seen a character in a movie like Theodore before. He's a sensitive, soft-spoken, gentle man who isn't the butt of the joke or the sidekick to an alpha male hero. The film intensely focuses on Theo's emotional life, and while there are definitely humorous parts, the movie takes his feelings very seriously and treats them like they're important and legitimate. And Phoenix really captures what it looks and sounds like when someone is guilty and distracted after seeing an ex, or horny and vulnerable at the same time. I feel like my words can't really do justice to his performance. I was blown out of the water by it.

There's a scene where Theo tells Samantha, "Sometimes I think I have felt everything I'm ever gonna feel". I don't think there is a human being on earth who can't relate to that. This idea, especially after a loss of some sort, that even if time heals all wounds, the world won't be as colorful or fascinating ever again. It's ironic that love and relationships allow us to dive into a technicolor pool of joy and wonderment--but also have the ability to take that same pool away.

I feel like no matter what I write in this review, I won't really convey the ideas and emotions that come out of the film Her. I just highly recommend seeing it. It's easily one of the best movies of the year, and it might change how you view what it means to connect with someone.

5 out of 5 stars

An Archer, an Anchorman, and a Con Artist Walk Into a Bar

Movies: Hunger Games: Catching Fire, Anchorman 2, American Hustle

Dear Readers,

Once again, I have been lax in updating this blog. Holidays, travel, etc etc. Below, I have 3 quick reviews of movies I've seen in the past couple weeks.

Please keep your eyes peeled for my "Best of 2013" blog entry coming soon! It may not happen until later in January since there are still some movies I want to see (Wolf of Wall Street, Her) before I finalize this list.

Until then, enjoy!


Hunger Games: Catching Fire

The second film in the Hunger Games trilogy is a rare example of a sequel being superior to its predecessor. The first Hunger Games film was exactly what we all expected--it set the stage for a dystopian world where a battle royale with children took place once a year as a ritual to remind the Districts of their submission to the Capitol. It introduced as to Katniss Everdeen, and her two potential love interests, Gale and Peeta.

There weren't a whole lot of surprises in the first Hunger Games and the social commentary was present, but not the main attraction. The focus of the film was how Katniss would survive the games. Catching Fire, however, ups the ante.

Katniss and Peeta are forced back into the Games due to a tricky loophole called the Quarter Quell--every 25 years, the Games are different and special. Because of Katniss' defiance of the Capitol, President Snow uses the Quarter Quell to round up previous winners (and, inevitably, Katniss, since she is the only female winner from District 12) and pit them against each other once more. Snow wants Katniss to die; but first he must kill the hope of freedom that she symbolizes to the Districts.


Catching Fire is darker than the first film, which is saying something considering the whole trilogy is about kids killing kids. The sense of anger is more severe--all the returning victors are furious at having Snow and the Capitol force them to fight again. Katniss and Peeta know that they can't pull their "so in love" stunt again, and thus, one of them has to die. Both of them separately make a deal with their mentor, Haymitch, for him to do everything he can to save the other.

Also, the satire is more prominent in this film. At one point, Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman) explains to Snow how to calm the rebellions in the Districts: fear and distraction. "What kind of dress will [Katniss] wear? Floggings. What will the cake look like? Executions." he says, blatantly referencing the culture of simultaneous fear-based news coverage and reality TV/celebrity obsession we live in. It's not subtle, nor should it be.

Catching Fire is a clear middle film in a trilogy since it ends with a cliffhanger than promises a huge turn of events for the final films (the last part of the trilogy will be split up). I haven't read the second and third Hunger Games books, though I do know the plots. But even knowing the ending, I'm excited for the final episodes of this intense trilogy.

4 stars out of 5

***

Anchorman 2

On the other end of the spectrum, here is a sequel that does not live up to its predecessor. Anchorman 2's biggest problem is that it tries too hard to be Anchorman 1. It offers more of the same, and very little of anything new or different.

Taking place about 10 years after the first Anchorman, Ron Burgundy and Veronica Corningstone are married, have a son, and work together as a news team. When Veronica is promoted and Ron fired, Ron attempts to force Veronica to choose between him and the news. When she doesn't back down, Ron takes the offer of a job at a new 24-hour news channel and rounds up the old team: Champ Kind, Brian Fantana, and Brick Tamland. We get a round of the same jokes: Champ owns a chain of questionable fried chicken restaurants and is vaguely in love with Ron; Brian photographs kittens for a living and has an armoire filled with condoms; and Brick is so dumb, he mistakenly thinks he is dead and gives a eulogy at his own funeral (nice callback to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, there, Adam McKay! Just kidding...Mark Twain has nothing to do with this movie).

Ron and the team face typical and obvious challenges at their new job--a younger, more attractive anchorman humiliates Ron; Ron has sex with his female boss; Brick falls in love with a female version of himself, Chani (Kristen Wiig). Cleverly, the film pokes fun at the current state of the news by having Ron and his team promote stupid, entertainment-style news over more substantial stories. In order to raise their ratings, Ron's team pitches the idea of giving their audience "the news they want to see" rather than the news they need to know. And thus, stories like "Top 50 vaginas" are born.

Anchorman 2 has its moments, and may even be better upon further viewing, but overall the movie tries too hard to capture the weirdness of the first movie. The first movie was a triumph by being low budget, odd, and heavily improvised. The sequel is higher budget, too self-conscious to be weird, and more scripted. All the things that made Anchorman a cult comedy are wiped a way with a trace of high-gloss sheen in Anchorman 2.

3 out of 5 stars

***

American Hustle

David O. Russell's follow-up to last year's genre-defying Silver Linings Playbook is equally intellectually stimulating, if a bit lacking in emotional depth.

Taking place in the late 1970's, a time when fashion was apparently defined by how hideous it could be, American Hustle is about a con man with a surprisingly sweet center. Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale) has a beer gut, an awful combover, but is weirdly sexy in a confident sleazeball kind of way. He owns a chain of laundromats and dupes investors into giving him $5,000 for nothing in return. He meets Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) and the two become lovers and partners in crime, with Sydney pretending to be a posh British woman to attract more investors.


After an ambitious FBI agent, Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper) goes undercover and busts Sydney and Irving, he offers them a bargain: work for him and help him do four more busts (mostly of crooked politicians), and the charges will be dropped.

Of course, by the end of the film, it's difficult to tell who is conning whom. There are double-crosses and fake (or is it real?) flirtations aplenty in this film. And when a violent mobster gets involved, the whole thing goes to shit.

Supporting the main cast are Jeremy Renner as Carmine Polito, the mayor of Camden, New Jersey whose crooked, criminal dealings are backed up by genuine love for his town; and Jennifer Lawrence as Rosalyn Rosenfeld, Irving's unstable, yet tough wife. She, too, has a touch of con woman in her: when she "accidentally" lets it slip that her husband is working with the FBI to a mobster, it initially seems like she is too naive to know what kind of trouble she just got her hubby in. Yet, whether she blabbed consciously or on a subconcious level, it's clear that she's not as dumb as she sometimes pretends to be.

American Hustle is a solidly good and entertaining film, although I wasn't quite as taken with it as other critics were. However, I felt the same about Silver Linings Playbook initially, but on further viewings have come to appreciate it more and more. Perhaps I'll give American Hustle another watch in the not too distant future.

4 out of 5 stars

Gay Dead Poets Society

Movies: Kill Your Darlings

Kill Your Darlings REALLY wants to be Dead Poets Society. And it falls flat on its face. Taking place in the mid 1940's, Kill Your Darlings is about the early years of the Beat poets. Allen Ginsberg (played wonderfully by Daniel Radcliffe, who is one of the few bright spots in the movie), William S. Burroughs (Ben Foster), Jack Kerouac (Jack Huston), and lesser-known Lucien Carr (Daniel DeHaan, who is the spitting image of a young Leonardo DiCaprio) are all at Columbia University together. Carr plays a Manic Pixie Dream Boy--a pretty, androgynous young man with a taste for rebellion who sucks people into his orbit--who takes Ginsberg under his wing. He invites him to wild parties down in the "queer" boroughs of New York, gets him into all kinds of drugs, and encourages him to destroy property in the quest for creating a new kind of art. Of course, Ginsberg falls in love with Carr.

Carr, meanwhile, has his own monkey on his back: David Kammerer (played by Dexter...I mean, Michael C. Hall). Kammerer was a former teacher and leader of a youth group Carr was in. The older man become obsessed with Carr, and basically stalked him all through the United States.

In Kill Your Darlings, Kammerer and Carr's relationship is portrayed ambiguously. Kammerer writes college papers for Carr, and while Carr obviously has no problem taking advantage of Kammerer's attentions, he seems weary and annoyed by the older man. Later in the movie, it becomes clear that Kammerer is obsessive and predatory. The movie doesn't really come out and say it, but it's pretty clear that the two men had a sexual relationship when Carr was underage. 



All this is leading up to a pretty inevitable conclusion (SPOILERS): After a fight one evening, Carr kills Kammerer. Again, the movie doesn't really take a stand on what actually happened. Did Carr attack Kammerer? Or did Kammerer want to die and ask Carr to kill him? I found this ambiguity misleading and disingenuous. Especially since Ginsberg at one point tries to defend Kammerer saying to Carr: "He loved you. And you loved him once." Um, sorry, but Kammerer was a stalker and a predator. The movie further demonizes Carr by showing (or rather, telling, in a paragraph of text at the end of the film) that Carr portrayed Kammerer as a predatory homosexual in court in an attempt to absolve himself of the murder (although he did spend time in prison). Such a thing was called an "honor slaying" back in the day--essentially, a straight man could kill a gay man and get away with it by saying the gay man tried to attack him.

So, Kill Your Darlings positions itself on the side of Kammerer. It suggests that Carr was a hypocritical and mentally unstable tease who led Kammerer on. Ugh. Although Carr certainly wasn't an angel, and perhaps if all of this took place in a different time, Kammerer's death could have been avoided, the fact remains that Kammerer was a stalker who preyed upon the much younger Carr.

The other plot of Kill Your Darlings is about the beginnings of the Beat movement. The movie fails here, as well. It tries to show the hijinks of Ginsberg, Carr, Kerouac, and Burroughs in a romantic, rebellious light, but the young men just come off as annoying, drugged out, immature little brats. There's one scene where they break into the university library at night and switch out the bibles housed on display in a glass case with "naughty" books like Lady Chatterley's Lover  and Ulysses. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about some college students in the mid 20th century reading some D.H. Lawrence and Henry Miller and discovering sex and all that--but the scene is utterly silly and ridiculous.

Daniel Radcliffe is the saving grace of Kill Your Darlings, playing an introverted and nerdy Ginsberg who is coming to terms with being gay in a society where being gay meant (as we see in the movie), you can basically be murdered and the murderer can get away with it. Radcliffe has been pretty fearless in his choice of roles post-Harry Potter, and Kill Your Darlings is no exception. Watching Ginsberg, seemingly the only kind and gentle person in this film, come of age and discover not just his sexuality, but his literary voice, is the only interesting thing in this overcooked melodrama.

3 out of 5 stars

Difficult Films and What to do with Them

The cycle of movies in America and how we watch them is almost ritualistic. In the summer, we get geared up for a influx of superhero movies, action films, sequels, prequels, and threequels--"popcorn movies", we call them. Meant to be seen on the big screen with a couple of friends and big buckets of the salty stuff. These movies might not be very good, but that's not the point: the point is fun. That, and watching stuff blow up.

And then, around this time of year, we gear up for "Oscar season". Nothing makes a non-cinema buff's ears perk up like the phrases "award winning" and "Oscar-nominated". Even people who don't watch a lot of movies care about the Oscars to a certain extent.

The problem with these Oscar contenders is that they are often difficult, emotionally challenging films. Since they pop up around the dark months of the year, every year, and have the weight of Oscar behind them, moviegoers feel a certain need or obligation to take in a few of them. They're like a big plate of vegetables after a summer of popcorn and twizzlers: noble, good for you, but not so easy to swallow.

After hearing many friends and family draw the line at seeing the film 12 Years a Slave, saying they just don't have the heart for it, I started thinking about difficult films and how different people approach these kinds of movies. The average moviegoer is certainly willing to see some stressful, sad films, but they don't want to suffer needlessly--after all, movies are supposed to be a fun and pleasurable pastime, right?


Partially right, in my opinion. The majority of movies were created to entertain, and that's something I heartily accept--I love a movie that hits the sweet spot of wildly fun and still actually a good, quality film. One that comes to mind is the first Pirates of the Caribbean film (no need to watch the sequels. They are awful). Pirates is a movie I could watch over and over. It's not exactly The Godfather but come on! Jack Sparrow!

On the other hand, there are movies that were created with entertainment not the number one priority. These movies range from artsy for art's sake (Tree of Life) to deep, dark movies that want us, the audience, to feel something. And not necessarily something positive (Brokeback Mountain).

But just because a movie is hard to watch does not mean you should avoid it. Nor should you think it's your noble duty to bravely walk into that theatre and suffer so that you can emerge and say "Man! Slaves/Jews during WWII/gay cowboys had it tough! Wow, I really respect their struggle". This attitude strikes me as "white moviegoers burden": the idea that seeing a movie about the struggles of a less privileged group of people makes you somehow a better person. As a snobby filmgoer myself, I can tell you: it's not simply enduring a hard film that makes you a better, kinder, more empathetic person. But it can help set you on that road.

In addition to entertainment and in addition to art, some films try to be reflective of the human experience. This is a tough line to walk because so many movies that attempt to teach us something fall into the trap of sappiness and easy answers. So many movies try to show the horrors of the human condition with a nice spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down and although that's the only way some people can stand difficult movies, I can't say that I respect the easy answers and obvious heroes and villains of those movies all that much.

The next time you go to see a sad or difficult movie, instead of gritting your teeth and preparing for the worst, try being vulnerable to the emotions that you will feel. I implore you--go see 12 Years a Slave with a soft and open heart. Let yourself feel the shock of what a slave auction looked like and the sting of humiliation at intelligent humans being treated like cattle. Feeling upset at these images means that you're human. Don't avoid or turn away from those feelings. The heart, like the mind, is something to be exercised.

***

Difficult films are a way to safely explore difficult emotions we'd rather avoid. Here's a beginner's list of movies that are tough to watch, but worth it in the long run.

Schindler's List: Schindler's List is pretty much the grand poobah of depressing movies. Based on the true story of Oskar Schindler, a German factory owner who saved a number of Jewish men, women, and children by hiring them to work in his factory during the height of WWII, Schindler's List is elegantly shot and beautifully acted. But even the gorgeous black and white cinematography doesn't hide the atrocities of Hitler's final solution. This masterpiece, directed by Steven Spielberg, is sometimes shown to students in high school. If you haven't seen it, set aside a few hours to watch it soon.

Boys Don't Cry: Hilary Swank's star-making role as a transgender man, Brandon Teena, is the main reason to watch this heart-breaking movie. Brandon, born a female but living and passing as a man, heads to Nebraska for a fresh start. But after his secret is discovered by a violent group of local men, things get ugly. Something unique about this film is that Brandon is far from a perfect person--he is actually a small-time criminal and he lies to those he purports to care about. Boys Don't Cry shows that even an imperfect person can be the victim of a hate crime.

Before Stonewall, After Stonewall, and We Were Here: These three documentaries about the gay rights movement in the United States are fascinating and will have you blubbering like a baby. Before Stonewall chronicles homosexuality in America before the Stonewall riots in 1969. Highlights include senior citizens talking about the lengths they went to hide their same-sex relationships and the formation of the Mattachine Society (one of the first homosexual organizations in the U.S.). After Stonewall covers the actual events of the Stonewall Riots and the groundswell of the gay rights movement in the late 1960's and 1970's. After Stonewall and We Were Here both focus on the early years of AIDS. We Were Here especially captures the terror of the emergence of a disease that no one knew anything about. If you want to learn about gay rights in the United States, skip Philadelphia and Milk and let those who saw it first-hand speak for themselves in these excellent documentaries.

12 Years a Slave: Yes, I know I went on about this one in this blog entry, but seriously, this may be the best film about American slavery...ever. It's as beautiful as it is brutal, and Chiwetel Ejiofor's performance as Solomon Northup will haunt you. If you truly think you can't handle watching the movie, at least take a look at Northup's memoir, which the film is based on. In print, the story is *slightly* easier to endure and it's available for free online.

4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days: In 1980's Romania, abortion is a crime punishable by death. A young woman turns to a friend to help her arrange an illegal abortion and the two women go through hell to terminate the pregnancy. In addition to showing the horrors that can arise from a culture that opposes a woman's right to birth control and reproductive choice, this film is also a commentary on dictatorship and how the most vulnerable in society are affected by such a regime.

Winter's Bone: Before she was the Girl on Fire, Jennifer Lawrence was in this suspenseful film about poverty and crime in backwoods Missouri. After her drug-dealing father skips town before his trial, Ree Dolly (Lawrence) decides to track him down so her family doesn't lose their home. Finding her father is harder than Ree prepares for since her neighbors and his drug addict associates aren't giving her any information. Winter's Bone portrays poverty and drug addiction in a straightforward, non-melodramatic way and shows the dark side of a close-knit rural community.

Up Close and Personal

Movies: Blue is the Warmest Color

*Warning: this review contains discussion of sexuality*

Love stories are hard to translate to film. Most movies, weighing in at 2-3 hours, simply aren't long enough to show the complexities of meeting someone, falling in love, fighting, possibly falling out of love, etc. There's a reason why so many love stories on screen are reduced to cliches and well-lit PG-13 sex scenes: it's damn hard to make characters' relationships feel real in such a short amount of time.

In Blue is the Warmest Color, director Abdellatif Kechiche (that's a mouthful) manages to capture, for the most part, the essence of first love and the sting of loss. At 187 minutes, Kechiche takes his sweet time focusing on the coming of age and coming out of 17 year old Adele (played exquisitely by Adele Exarchopoulos).

Adele is a high school junior, fumbling her way through a relationship with a sweet boy, when she locks eyes with the blue-haired Emma (Lea Seydoux) while crossing the street. She is transfixed by Emma and during a night out with her gay guy friend,  she follows some women to a lesbian bar, attempting to find the mysterious blue-haired girl. Emma spies wide-eyed Adele sipping a "bull dyke beer" at the bar and saddles up to the underage girl, flirting gently with her. This scene fairly breathes with a comforting eroticism: the older, worldly art student taking the younger girl under her wing.

The two begin an affair that plays out in what feels like real time. I was often confused at how much time had passed between scenes. One scene shows Adele celebrating her 18th birthday and the next has her working as a teaching assistant at a kindergarten. The entire movie probably plays out over 8-10 years, but it could just as easily have been 3 years.


Filmed in extreme close-ups, we see every pore of the actresses' faces. The camera work is hand-held and even a tad nausea-inducing at times. And just as the close-up camera basks in every runny nose, sweaty sex session, and open mouthful of food, the script isn't afraid to reveal the emotional imperfections in the leads' personalities and relationship. It becomes clear that Adele is more enamored of Emma than Emma is of Adele. Emma is also self-absorbed and almost stereotypical in the way her art comes first in her life. Adele is simply her muse. Even though Emma flirts openly with other women, she seethes with jealousy and hypocritical anger when Adele dares kiss a man she works with. During a fight so realistic I was flinching in pain, I thought "Adele is better off without this woman". But since Emma is Adele's first love, she doesn't let go easily.

Blue is the Warmest Color has been the subject of controversy for a few reasons: 1) it's about two women in love, 2) there are multiple *extremely explicit* sex scenes (more on that below), and 3) the director (a man) has been criticized for how he treated the actresses on set and for the supposed heterosexual male gaze that shines through this queer film.

I loved how this film treated lesbianism in such a...normalized way. Though Adele gets mocked by her bitchy peers for "eating pussy" (particularly by another secretly gay friend of hers who kisses her at school), the strife Adele and Emma goes through as a gay couple is (relatively) minimal. Brokeback Mountain this ain't. No one dies at the end, thank goodness. However, Adele is squeamish about coming out to her folks and coworkers, using the "it's no one's business" excuse while Emma is very open about being gay, causing tension between the two. But other than those LGBT-specific struggles, the two  women go through the ups and downs of their relationship much in the way any couple would. It's refreshing.

As for the sex: oh is it explicit and how. The crowing glory is a 10-12 minute scene that is so explicit I would have thought the actresses were actually having sex if I hadn't know that they used...er...fake lady parts over their actual lady parts. Despite leaving nothing to the imagination, the sex scenes aren't exploitative--in fact, much the opposite, as they show what it's really like to have sex, weird positions and all. The thing I found most awkward about the whole thing is that the characters never talk. They don't say one word to each other throughout the scenes. Which, to me, was really bizarre and unrealistic.

As for the whole "male gaze" thing...maybe? The leads are very stereotypically beautiful and there was definitely something almost clinical about the sex scenes that suggested a sense of "look, guys, these are two women having sex! Watch them. Observe them." While not exploitative, I do wonder if the scenes (and, indeed, the whole movie) would have been different if a woman--specifically, a gay woman--had been behind the camera instead.

One of the most uncomfortable moments, for me, was a scene at a party where a male guest talks about how women receive "nine times more pleasure" than men, and discusses how he's seen women "go into another world" during sex. Another (female) guest accuses him of seeing female sexuality as "mystical". Indeed, this character--a powerful gallery owner and artist--might very well be a stand-in for the director. But I don't know the director, and the movie didn't seem all that offensive or problematic to me, a hetero woman. I'm very curious to hear other folks' perspectives though.

Blue is the Warmest Color, like its characters, has flaws. But its flaws are also, in some ways, its strengths. It's overly long--but it needs to be that way in order to develop the relationship between Adele and Emma. The camera work is so up close and shaky, it's distracting--but at the same time, it lets us see every emotion that flickers across the faces of the characters. The sex scenes come off as a tad voyeuristic--but, hey, maybe it's a good thing for American audiences to be exposed to realistic, non-straight sex scenes outside of porn.

Blue is the Warmest Color is a frank and honest depiction of the emotional journey of two people. Like real life, it is at times frustrating, heartbreaking, and liberating. Not many movies can pull that off.

4 out of 5 stars

See it for Sandy

Movies: Gravity

A month or so ago, when Alfonso Cuaron's visually stunning film Gravity arrived in theatres, famed astrophysicist and model for one of my favorite memes ("Watch out, we got a badass over here") Neil deGrasse Tyson took to Twitter to criticize the film's scientific holes. He did so with love in his heart though, concluding that he "enjoyed Gravity very much".

I felt the same as deGrasse Tyson after seeing the heart-wrenching and extremely stressful film. Not that I could even begin to understand the science (or lack thereof) behind Gravity. But simply put, the film is not about being lost in space so much as it is about suffering from clinical depression and choosing to persevere.

*As always, spoilers ahead!*

Gravity focuses on two astronauts: Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock) and Matt Kowalski (George Clooney). The two (plus a third guy who dies in the first 20 minutes) are taking a spacewalk to repair a hubble telescope when a cloud of unexpected space debris (from a destroyed satellite) hits them, severing Stone from her tether and sending her spiraling into open space.

Kowalski, who is less a three-dimensional character in his own right and more just George Clooney in a spacesuit, finds Stone and, with the use of a jet pack, heads towards a Russian space station. The plan is to use the space station's small escape pod to zip over to another space station (a Chinese one) and use that station's capsule which is equipped to re-enter the earth's atmosphere. Still with me? So, basically, the whole "Sandra Bullock lost in space" part of the film is only a small portion of the movie as a whole and it's more about her making her way to the space station with the correct equipment to get back to earth.

So (and seriously, major spoiler here), Stone and Kowalski make it to the Russian space station, but at the last minute, the tether between the two breaks and, though Stone is able to hold on to Kowalski with a parachute-type thing, he realizes that he's dragging her away from the station and cuts himself loose to save her--so then he spirals out into space, directing her to continue into the space station to save herself.

And this is really where the meat and potatoes of Sandra Bullock's performance emerges. We learn earlier that Stone had a four year old daughter who died. She doesn't have a spouse and doesn't speak of any other family or friends. It seems unbelievable that NASA would send a person clearly in grief with little or no social support into space, but whatever! It's a movie! While many actresses might be tempted to overplay Stone's agony--with weeping and gnashing of teeth and all--Bullock plays her like the actual mother of a dead child might act. When she talks about her little girl, her voice goes flat. Her eyes go a little dead. The way Stone has dealt with her child's death is to let it crush her so completely, that she can't convey an emotional response. This seemed very realistic to me and very much how a depressed person would act--shutting down in order to survive.

As Stone attempts to save herself despite mishap after mishap, there are moments were she is ready to lay down and die. I didn't blame her at all. The agony of losing her child combined with the horror and loneliness of space would have made me want to turn up the carbon monoxide and drift off into oblivion myself. But a vision of the unsinkable Kowalski gets her back on track. Kowalski's insistence on Stone's survival reminded me, perhaps oddly, of Titanic. The same dynamic between Rose and Jack is present between Stone and Kowalski, minus the romantic element: he's a charismatic guy who is optimistic in the face of death, and willing to nobly sacrifice himself to save another human being. It's a bit Hollywood, but again--I was suspending some serious disbelief with this whole movie.

I spent most of the movie curled up in a little ball in my seat due to the stress and tension of the film, but needless to say--Sandra Bullock fucking makes it. She rides her fiery little capsule back to earth and ends up in some lake in Asia somewhere. As she crawls to the shore and tests her wobbly legs out, it's a primal scene. She is an animal that chose to live despite all the shit life threw in her direction.

To sum up: what I didn't like about Gravity was the lack of scientific realism, which seemed to be sacrificed in service the the emotional heart of the film. I also thought George Clooney's character and performance, while not bad per se, was basically just George Clooney playing himself in space. He was a little too cute and charismatic for the role of someone who knows they're going to die.

But what I did like was Sandra Bullock's rock solid performance as a woman who chooses the harder path: life, with all its pain, over death. Also, the cinematography is beautiful and is one of the biggest draws of the film--see it in 3D, and in IMAX if you can. It looks VERY realistic (as far as I know, since I've never been to space).

If you can suspend your disbelief and surrender yourself to this emotionally wrenching film, Gravity does come off as a small masterpiece from a virtuoso director.

4 stars for the film itself, plus .5 for the exceptional visual effects = 4.5 out of 5 stars

His Soul Rose Up Like a Bird

Movies: 12 Years a Slave

The horrors of American slavery cut a deep gash in our nation's history, and that wound has never fully healed. Nor should it. I've written before that the evils of America's past (not just slavery, but Native American genocide, Japanese internment camps, etc) are a burden every citizen should--and can--carry. In the same way that we celebrate the triumphs of our collective past, we must do our part in mending our sins.

American slavery was a genocide in itself. Even if the intent was not to kill the body, it was most certainly to kill the will and the humanity of the slave. If a slave could read and write, that was a threat. If a slave plotted to run away, that was a threat. If you treated a slave as a fellow, equal human being, that was a threat. And so slave owners, slave traders, and individuals who stood by had to make sure they didn't see slaves as human, and more importantly, slaves didn't see themselves as human.

No film I've seen illustrates this cultural, collective choice to systematically dehumanize American slaves as well as director Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave. What's more, the film not only shows the dehumanizing effects on slaves themselves, but on those who tormented them.

Based on his 1853 memoir of the same title, 12 Years a Slave is the story of Solomon Northup, a free black man living in Saratoga, New York, with his wife and two children. Played by Chiwetel Ejiofor, Solomon is a gifted musician--a violinist--and a well-off and well-respected member of the community. When he is offered a two-week gig playing for a traveling show in Washington, DC, he can't resist the income. But after a night of merriment, his employers drug him and sell him into slavery.

The fact that Solomon is born free is what makes this story so effective. He not only must deny his actual name (he is given the name Platt when he's sold) and never bring up his wife, children, or the truth about himself, he also must actively hide the fact that he is an educated man--which proves difficult when dealing with vicious, condescending slave owners. Solomon is someone we can all identify with and it makes his random enslavement all the more terrifying because we know what it is to be free--and so does Solomon.

Yet, as torturous as it must be for Solomon to be a man stripped of his freedom, it also helps him survive, and, ultimately (uh, spoiler alert?), regain his freedom. The fire, the anger, and the hope never leave Solomon, even after facing increasingly atrocious horrors.

Solomon is initially sold to Mr. Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch, who I do enjoy seeing outside of memes on the Internet), a relatively kind man who is "sentimental" and fair towards his slaves, and even gives Solomon a violin to keep. But one of Mr. Ford's overseers, Tibeats (Paul Dano, doing his best pathetic, sniveling little worm here), enrages Solomon to the point where Solomon beats Tibeats with his own whip. Ford certainly can't keep Solomon after this incident, and he sells him to the vile Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender, playing an evil man so accurately, it's chilling).

Life on Epps' plantation is hell. The slaves pick cotton by day and those who pick less than they picked the day before are whipped. Epps wakes his slaves in the middle of the night and forces them to dance for him and his wife. Worst of all, Epps is obsessed with one slave in particular--Patsey (Lupita Nyong'o)--and rapes her on a nightly basis. But Patsey's agonies only begin with her master's attentions. His jealous wife (Sarah Paulson) hates that his husband is attracted to Patsey and forces her to endure even further torments since she can't direct her hate where it belongs--at her psychopathic husband.

If my descriptions of this film sound like torture porn, please know that director McQueen, whose previous films Shame and Hunger also went to very dark places, shows the exploitation of slaves in the most non-exploitative, yet honest way possible. His camera doesn't flinch from revealing the welts on Patsey's back after she's whipped or the naked slaves being forced to bathe outdoors while clothed white people watch. McQueen diligently captures these humiliations without snark, without apology, and (thank Christ), without pruriency. 12 Years a Slave is a film that respects the memory of American slavery.

Despite the torture, rape, and death all around him and Epps' attempts to break him, Solomon never gives up--he takes numerous risks to get in touch with his family (in the hopes of having his free papers sent--a depressing detail in an of itself, the fact that Americans with black skin even needed free papers to begin with). Even though these attempts fail, and nearly get him killed, his memory of his family keeps him looking for opportunities to find a way out of slavery.

When at last the opportunity arrives, it's cathartic without being overly sentimental. Solomon is reunited with his family--his children are grown now, and his daughter has a son of her own. I imagined if I were Solomon, I would have gotten down on my knees and kissed my families' hands, feeling like they were angels on earth.

Ejiofor, whose previous work includes the fun (but somewhat silly) Kinky Boots and the underrated Dirty Pretty Things, carries a lot of weight on his shoulders--and in his bewitching eyes. The story of the American slave is not exactly a cake walk, and few directors have succeeded in doing it justice. But the team of McQueen and Ejiofor (both black British men, not-so-incidentally) manage to do this dark chapter justice.

12 Years a Slave is emotionally exhausting, but well-worth seeing. Brilliantly acted, beautifully filmed, 12 Years a Slave stares into the soul of hatred and reveals how love and hope conquer all.

5 out of 5 stars