Sleeping With the Enemy

Movies: Allied

I really love movies and books about WWII. There's just something about the era: the music, the clothes, Rosie the Riveter, handsome American soldiers fightin' Nazis.

About that last one...hmm, it's a little weird watching a movie about the evils of Nazism when the call is coming from inside the house nowadays.

But I digress.

At its heart, Allied isn't actually about WWII or about fightin' the Nazis. It's about trust and whether or not you can truly know someone even if you sleep next to them in bed every night.

Directed by Robert Zemeckis and starring Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard, Allied has a distinctly old-fashioned feel. It recalls 1940s film noir: dames in silk dresses wielding guns; men in uniform meeting in underground bunkers; lovers stabbing lovers in the back (psychologically, at least). Allied received mixed critical reviews, but I found it to deliver on its promise to thrill and entertain.

If you've seen the preview, you know the plot: Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard play Max Vatan and Marianne Beausejour, spies put on assignment in French Morocco in 1942 to play a married couple and Nazi sympathizers so that they can gain entry to an elite party and assassinate the German ambassador. Marianne is especially good at playing her role, explaining the cultural customs of Casablanca to the less detail-oriented Max. She also tells him, after giving him a very convincing smooch in front of friends, that she "keeps the emotions real. That's why it works."

In a completely unpredictable twist, the two fall in love and decide to marry after their assignment is carried out. They move to London and Marianne gives birth to a little girl. All's swell in paradise.

Until Max is called into work one day and taken by his commanding officer, Frank (Jared Harris--yay, Mad Men cameo!) to meet with a high-ranking officer who informs Max that they have reason to suspect that Marianne is a German spy. They've discovered messages being delivered to the enemy from the vicinity of Max and Marianne's neighborhood and they also have reason to believe that Marianne took the identity of a French resistance fighter to infiltrate even deeper into Allied territory.

They inform Max that he will be given false information during a late-night phone call and he is to leave it where his wife will see it. If the false information is leaked, they'll know Marianne is indeed a spy and Max will "dispatch her" with his own hand. Now, that last part seems a little...not right? As my mom pointed out after the movie, wouldn't it make more sense for them to arrest Marianne and torture her for more information? That's the American in me--wondering why they'd waste a perfectly good opportunity to waterboard someone until they squeal, right? But I guess forcing a man to put a bullet in his own wife's head or be hanged for treason just has more dramatic *oomph* to it.

I thought Allied did a pretty good job of keeping you guessing about Marianne until the end. Half of the movie is Brad Pitt disobeying orders and trying to find out on his own whether or not Marianne is who she says she is by doing some hugely shady (and likely treasonous) stuff. But every time it seems like he might have an answer, something throws a monkey wrench in his way.

I admit that while Allied is certainly elegant in its cinematography, it's not particularly elegant (or believable) in its plot. But it really does have its moments--two excellent scenes take place during parties: the first when Max and Marianne carry out their assignment to assassinate the German ambassador and the second during a party at their home in London, after Max has been briefed about his wife's possible double life but before he knows for sure.

Allied isn't a ground-breaking film. Quite the opposite, in fact: it's old-fashioned, a throwback to films of earlier eras. It sucks you in and offers, despite it's suspenseful plot, a measure of comfort and assurance. And I was all too happy to tune in and drop out of reality for a couple hours.

Grade: B

Born a Poor, Black Child

Movies: Moonlight

We live in a racist society. When the president-elect appoints a known white nationalist as his Chief Strategist, we can without a doubt say that these are dark, troubled times indeed. Seeing Barry Jenkins' lovely, dreamy, moving film Moonlight under these circumstances was a unique experience and I hope that anyone reading this blog will consider seeing the film, which is the coming of age story of a black, gay man shown in three parts: as a young boy, a shy teen, and a full-grown man still angry and still hurting from his difficult childhood.

For those of you who don't like sad or difficult films, especially during sad and difficult times, I can assure you that the main theme of this movie is not despair, but love and hope. It's not a film that offers escapism, but it's one that tells a story rarely seen on screen: a black man's coming of age.

The first third of the film is titled "Little", the nickname of Chiron, a nine-year old boy growing up in Miami with a crack-addicted mom. Alex Hibbert plays young Chiron--a quiet, meek child with large, observant eyes. Naomie Harris plays Paula, his mother, in a fully fleshed out portrait of a woman who feels love for her son but can't pull herself out of her own addiction long enough to truly be there for him as a parent. Instead, she yells at him when he doesn't behave, despite being unable to model good behavior herself. Harris does an amazing job with a character who isn't cruel, just very weak and deeply flawed.

After running away from bullies, Chiron is discovered hiding in an abandoned home by Juan (Mahershala Ali, who is on the verge of stardom after his turn as Cotton Mouth in Marvel's Luke Cage), a crack dealer with--yes--a heart of gold. He lets Chiron stay the night with him and his girlfriend, Teresa (Janelle Monae). Teresa becomes a mother figure in Chiron's life, giving him a place to sleep and a warm meal when things are hard at home. Juan, too, becomes a parental figure to Chiron--in a beautiful scene, he teaches the boy to swim, supporting him in his arms in the lazy, Floridian waters. The scene reminds one of a baptism:

Additionally, when Chiron asks Juan and Teresa what a "faggot" is after he gets called one at school, the two adults explain that it's a word to "make gay people feel bad". Chiron asks "Am I a faggot?" and Juan answers "No", indicating that while Chiron might be gay, he should not feel bad about it. 

The second act is titled "Chiron" and takes place during Chiron's teen years (he is now played by Ashton Sanders). Chiron has a close friend from childhood, Kevin (played by Jharrel Jerome as a teenager). Although Chiron continues to be bullied, he and Kevin remain close. Their relationship culminates in Kevin giving Chiron a hand job on the beach one night. The scene is much more emotionally deep than you would think given the phrase "hand job". I liked that the two young men engaged in this lower stakes form of sexuality since it seemed more realistic than two teen boys having full-blown intercourse. The scene feels more like a passionate expression of friendship instead of horny fooling around (at least to me; others may have different feelings about the scene).

The next day, however, Chiron's main bully, Terrel (Patrick Decile), goads Kevin into punching Chiron until he falls down. Chiron keeps getting back up, forcing his friend to keep hitting him until the bullies jump Chiron. The day after the beating, Chiron comes to school and breaks a chair over Terrel's head and is carted off to prison.

The final chapter is titled "Black" and takes place when Chiron is probably in his late 20s/early 30s (played by Trevante Rhodes). After his stint in juvie, Chiron turned to drug dealing (much like his father figure, Juan) and has been successful at it. Chiron is tall and jacked--no longer a skinny boy who is easily picked on. He is rich with a gold mouthpiece and a nice house. His mother has since entered rehab and now works at the rehabilitation center. It seems like (other than the less than legal career path he chose) Chiron has moved beyond his tough childhood. But when he receives a call from Kevin (played by Andre Holland, who is sexy as hell, let me tell you), who works at a diner, Chiron can't help traveling to visit his old friend. They share dinner and wine at Kevin's diner and then go back to Kevin's place. You might expect a hot sex scene, but the two just talk about how their lives turned out--Kevin reveals he has a child (but isn't married to the mom) and he also went to prison. This revelation is so casual, as if all black men expect to go to prison in their lives. After being tight-lipped most of the evening, Chiron reveals that Kevin is the only man who ever touched him sexually and that he hasn't been with anyone since. The film ends on this meaningful note.

Ok, I just realized I basically laid out the entire plot. But the plot is simple enough to allow those meaningful moments of everyday life shine through: when Juan teaches Chiron to swim; when Kevin and Chiron kiss on the beach; when Kevin and Chiron reconnect years later. And all the little details that reveal how hard life is when you're a black man--especially a gay black man and especially a poor, gay black man. But life didn't destroy Chiron. As he gets older, he gets more power, through money and physical strength. But on the inside, he's still "Little"--quiet, meek, unsure of himself. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?

There is so much to praise about Moonlight: the excellent performances (not a single bad one in the entire film), the gorgeous cinematography (I was reminded of Julian Schnabel's Before Night Falls, also a film with dreamy cinematography and also about a gay man of color, poet Reinaldo Arenas), the humanistic attitude toward the world that the film takes where there are no heroes and no bad guys--only people doing what they can despite tough situations. 

But I guess what I like most about Moonlight is that it exists, it's in theaters, and people are seeing it. We need stories about black people, gay people, poor people, etc now more than ever. And not The Pursuit of Happiness type movies about the one guy who beat the odds. We need stories about people  who didn't beat the odds. We need stories about people who are doing their best and whose lives are valuable even if they aren't minority success stories. The trick to ending racism/sexism/homophobia/etc isn't putting down white, straight people--it's getting those white, straight people to see people who aren't like them as human. That's all there is (well, not really, but it's a start). When you humanize someone, it's hard to see them (and treat them) as fairytale monsters.

I used to walk down the street and feel that stab of fear I was taught to feel when a large, black man passed me by. That's my inheritance as both a woman and a white person--you are told to fear two groups: men and people who look different than you. But during the past couple weeks, I've been feeling differently. I've been thinking that the people I instinctively fear are not the real enemies. It's my own people--white people. Straight people. Middle class people (men are still scary, tbh). Maybe not *me* and maybe not my friends, but people like me. The group I'm part of. We've been sold some lies about who is scary and who is safe in this world. But I'm starting to see those lies for what they are, and I'm starting to see the people who are different from me as the ones I owe something to. 

No one is perfect. Everyone is human. Movies like Moonlight show the beauty--and struggle--of being human.

Grade: A

Gifted Hands

Movies: Doctor Strange

Hello readers! I'm sorry to be reviewing Doctor Strange so late in the game, but in case y'all are unaware, America decided to go to shit over the past couple weeks and elect an outrageous fuckhead as its leader, so I've had other things on my mind.

And I realize the irony of giving this review the same title as Ben Carson's memoir. Hey! It fits with the themes of Doctor Strange!

And onto the review.

***

While I enjoyed Marvel's latest big-budget superhero flick and have nothing bad to say about it, I also didn't love it. It's the movie equivalent of a turkey sandwich: yummy and filling, but not exactly anything to write home about. That said, comfort food in the form of movies is nothing to knock, especially in these troubled times.

Benedict Cumberbatch plays Dr. Stephen Strange, a neurosurgeon with exceptionally gifted hands who is a minor celebrity in the world of surgery. Stephen apparently enjoys being a cliche because, like all surgeons, he's arrogant as hell. And why wouldn't he be? He's wildly talented, fantastically wealthy, and he literally plays God everyday, saving the lives of thousands of people with his mad surgery skillz. Well, fate has a little shit-kicking in store for Stephen.

While driving to a party, Stephen is in a car accident (he's talking on the phone! Don't talk and drive! He's using Bluetooth, but still...). The accident destroys the nerves in his hands to the point where he will likely never perform surgery again. Because his hands are his life and identity, Stephen falls into a deep depression while also seeking cutting edge medicine to bring his hands back to their former glory. Along the way, he hears tell of a man named Jonathan Pangborn (Benjamin Bratt in a nice cameo) who fully recovered from a severe spinal cord injury. When he finds Pangborn, the man tells him to head to Kathmandu and seek out Kamer-Taj, a secret compound.

Having nothing to lose, Stephen makes the journey. He meets a sorcerer, Mordon (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and a master sorcerer known only as the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton). After scoffing at the idea of magic, the Ancient One reveals her (should I say "her"? Ancient One would probably identify as agender on Tinder) powers, shocking Stephen to the core. Although the inhabitants of Kamer-Taj reject him for his arrogance, Stephen grovels long enough to be given a chance to learn the secret ancient arts of...all kinds of shit. One thing the sorcerers do is create portals that let you jump around all over the earth. They're also able to play with time--but that is forbidden to everyone except the Ancient One because of its inherent danger (y'all saw The Butterfly Effect, right?). Of course Stephen, who is a fast learner and thinks rules don't apply to him, wants to uncover and learn the forbidden knowledge.

Meanwhile, a traitorous ex-pupil of the Ancient One, Kaecilius (Mads Mikkelsen), is gathering minions and planning to overthrow the Ancient One and tap into a dimension where time does not exist, thus granting him and his followers immortality. Once you actually get to see this timeless dimension you're like, "well, this is a piece of shit. Who would want to live here for a day, let alone eternity??" But I digress. One cool thing about Kaecilius is that he's a bad guy who doesn't think he's bad. In fact, he believes that the Ancient One is a liar who disavows the timeless dimension and its dangerous powers to her pupils while also utilizing energy from it to give her a long life. So Kaecilius loses faith in the Ancient One for good reason.

If this all sounds really woo-woo, well, it is.  Doctor Strange definitely has a very different feel than many of the other Marvel films. It feels strongly embedded in fantasy, whereas some of the other films, such as Iron Man, are more embedded in science-fiction. But like other Marvel films, it's very well made, funny, and has great actors showing up and doing a great job (unlike *cough*DC movies*cough). Benedict Cumberbatch is delightful with an excellent American accent in that deep voice of his. His famously weird-but-sexy looks work well in a movie filled with characters who all have otherworldly looks, from the dark makeup around Kaecilius' eyes to the Ancient One's bald head. Truly, the film is as much character driven as it is plot driven.

The central message is about gifts, talents, and purpose. Stephen Strange, like so many characters in literature and movies, must fall hard and be humbled before he realizes his true potential (which was...*sniffle* inside him all along). And he has to accept that the closing of a door might mean the opening of a window that, hell, you didn't even know existed in your house. It's a very positive message in an overall positive (but not sentimental) film. The only thing that annoyed me was the not great gender ratio. There is one clearly female character in the movie--Stephen's ex-lover and fellow doctor, Christine (Rachel McAdams, sweet and strong as she always is), who gets some screen time, but her character is there to prop up Stephen's and doesn't really have her own story. And then I guess you could consider Tilda Swinton's Ancient One as female, but she's really more agender as I mentioned above. Which is cool in its own right I guess. Still, Doctor Strange is one more on a long list of superhero movies that tell a (usually white) man's story with women and minorities bolstering that man up.

But other than that quibble, I found Doctor Strange to be a solid, fun movie. In the wake of this election, where it feels like we're living in an alternate reality--and not a good one--Doctor Strange is ideal escapism: it gives you the escape you need with side helpings of hope and heroism. It's important to remember than good can still destroy evil.

Grade: B

Past Imperfect

Movies: Birth of a Nation

Anyone who keeps up with film culture knows the controversial story behind Nate Parker's passion project, The Birth of a Nation. The film depicts the story of Nat Turner, a slave who led a rebellion in 1831. The film is not entirely accurate to history (more on this below), but the true controversy lies in Parker himself.

Accused of rape in 1999, Parker was acquitted, but his roommate (and co-writer of The Birth of a Nation), Jean McGianni Celestin, was found guilty of rape and spent time in prison. When these charges re-surfaced while Parker promoted the film, he choose not to address them.

Is Parker a rapist? It seems very probable (despite his being acquitted) given the circumstances of the night in question. His accuser was extremely drunk to the point of not being able to consent. But let's say for the sake of argument that Parker didn't touch his accuser and in fact is not guilty of rape--why then, would he still keep the company and share a writing credit with a man (his friend and roommate) who WAS charged with rape? Why would he not address the accusations head on when they arose during the promotion of The Birth of a Nation?

I wasn't there in the room the night Parker and Celestin likely had sex with an unconscious woman, so I don't know with 100% certainty what happened. But given what I do know about rape culture (victims are often ridiculed and rarely see justice served) and the way Parker has acted (as if the rape charges are beneath him--as if he doesn't need to address them in a serious, honest way), I'd say this guy is 1) guilty and 2) an asshole.

So why did I go to see The Birth of a Nation? Well, because I wanted to. I was curious as to what a story of violence and objectification would look like in the hands of a man who likely committed violence and objectification himself. A man who claims that God gave him a vision to bring this story to theaters.

Everyone approaches this issue differently. Some people go out of their way to avoid art created by known (or heavily assumed) rapists/criminals, such as Roman Polanski, Woody Allen, David O. Russell, and Bryan Singer. (And it's not just men. Marion Zimmer Bradley, author of the beloved Mists of Avalon series, was accused by her daughter of sexual abuse). I highly respect people who make an effort to not support work done by people who have been accused of abuse and rape, mostly because I am not as pure as that. Although I haven't seen a Woodly Allen film since Midnight in Paris (mostly b/c his recent work tends to suck), I have watched Roman Polanski films and Michael Fassbender movies (Fassbender was accused of domestic violence in 2010) for the only reason that...well, I wanna. I don't really have an excuse other than I simply want to see these movies.

But everyone has their limits. And here is perhaps a chilling thought: these are only the people *we know* have been accused of rape/violence. What about the almost certainly hundreds or thousands of actors, directors, musicians, and public figures that we admire who have committed similar crimes, which as of yet have not come to light? Or, what about the people we interact with everyday--family, friends, partners--who have committed acts of violence that we simply don't know about?

In any case, maybe I'm just justifying myself. The point is, I saw The Birth of a Nation, and while it is imperfect, it's actually not that bad of a movie.

The film follows Nat Turner, a man born into slavery in Southampton Country, Virginia. Turner was taught to read by the wife of his owner, and he grew up to be a preacher among his fellow slaves. The film depicts Turner's life on the Turner plantation (his owner was Benjamin Turner, who eventually died and left everything to his son, Samuel) as relatively pleasant and non-violent. Turner even married an enslaved woman who lived a few miles down the road and the two had a baby together. But when Samuel Turner started taking Nat to other plantations to preach to slaves, Nat began to see how the lives of other slaves were filled with wretchedness and violence. Seeing this led him to plan and carry out a rebellion in 1831 in which a group of 70 or so rebel slaves and free men of color killed around 60 men, women, and children. The rebellion was quickly squashed and Nat Turner was hanged for his crimes.

I'm not a history major, so I know fuck-all about Nat Turner expect for the fact that he led a rebellion. Turner's history, it turns out, is difficult to tease out since the historical accounts are shaky and marred by propaganda and hearsay. This article goes into more detail about Nat Turner's story vs. what is depicted in The Birth of a Nation.

The film itself is quite good. Parker plays Nat Turner with a zealous conviction. It's interesting to ponder how Parker wanted to portray him--Turner believed he had a mandate from God to engage in a violent rebellion, and in the film you see him go from conflicted preacher to, well, kind of a crazy man with a wild look in his eyes and the kind of fiery conviction needed to lead dozens of men to almost sure death. Did Parker intend to play Turner this way, or did Parker's own convictions and supposed vision from God to make this film blind him to Turner's own faults and weaknesses?

The film contains historical inaccuracies and cleaning up of the Turner legend. For example, Turner is spurred on to rebellion after the gang rape of his wife, an event that apparently did not occur (although maybe it did! Female slaves were raped all the damn time in the Antebellum South). Also, when the rebellion occurs, you see Turner and his fellow rebels kill men. Evil, slave-owning men. What you don't see is that they also killed the slave owners' wives and children--including infants.

The long and short of it: Parker re-wrote history to make the Turner Rebellion appear more "clean" than it actually was. Now, here's the thing--filmmakers re-write history all the time. But there is something especially icky about a man accused of rape re-writing history to suit his own needs. Art imitating life a little too closely.

The acting in The Birth of a Nation is undeniably good. Parker gives a great performance, as does Armie Hammer as Samuel Turner--a man who grew up with Nat and was his childhood friend...until he became master of his father's plantation and a virulent alcoholic. Penelope Ann Miller has a great role as Elizabeth Turner, the mistress of the plantation who teaches young Nat to read, thus setting in motion everything to come.

The film is appropriately violent without being sensational. Multiple rapes of enslaved women happen off screen. Additionally, Nat sees the brutality of other plantation owners, particularly in a devastating scene where a slave on a neighboring plantation who refuses to eat has his teeth knocked out and a funnel shoved into his mouth and is force-fed gruel. It's a fucking gruesome scene, but it serves to awaken Nat to the hell that other slaves experienced.

If someone were to ask me "should I see this movie", I would say no, you don't have to. Other films--12 Years a Slave comes to mind--do what this film does, only better and with fewer rapists involved.

That said, The Birth of a Nation itself is not a bad film. It's also not great. What it is is a decent film tainted by its creator, whose "magical thinking" not only adds to the dishonesty inherent in this film, but to the dishonesty inherent in his own life.

Grade: B- 

Woman on the Verge

Movies: The Girl on the Train

Last summer I reviewed Paula Hawkins' best-selling novel The Girl on the Train and said that while I appreciated that Hawkins allowed her female characters to be incredibly unlikeable, and never glamorized alcoholism (alcoholism plays a central role in the film and the book), The Girl on the Train is no Gone Girl. I get that books and movies should be judged on their own merits and not in comparison to other books and movies,  but it's really hard to separate The Girl on the Train from Gone Girl since the two are both wildly popular crime/mystery novels with unreliable narrators, flawed protagonists, deep undercurrents of misogyny and violence, and...well, they both have "girl" in the title.

Be it book or movie, The Girl on the Train wilts in comparison to the superior Gone Girl.

The Girl on the Train follows Rachel Watson (Emily Blunt, an elegant actress who does a great job playing vulnerable and pathetic), an out of work, alcoholic, divorced 30-something basically living out every woman's worst nightmare: she is an object of pity. She is unwanted, not sexy, lonely. And she is unraveling. Even though she lost her job a year before, she still takes the train into New York City every day, spying on the house she used to share with her husband, Tom (Justin Theroux, sexy as hell), who still lives there with his new wife, Anna (Rebecca Ferguson), and their infant daughter.

Consumed with sadness and envy, Rachel also spies on Tom and Anna's sexy, young next door neighbors--she fantasizes that this couple have everything she lost: true, real love. A happy home. A strong bond. So when she sees the female half of the couple kissing another man, it enrages her. She proceeds to get black out drunk at the train station and runs off to confront the woman. She wakes up covered in blood and vomit, with no memory of what happened. When she sees that the young woman, Megan Hipwell (Haley Bennett), has gone missing, Rachel wonders if she saw something that night. Or worse, did something.


The film switches points of view between Rachel, Anna, and Megan. All three women seem to match up with a stereotype of womanhood: Anna is the perfect, beautiful mother who has it all: happy baby, sexy husband, nice home. Megan is the sultry (slutty?) young woman with a talent for using her feminine wiles to manipulate men. And Rachel is the sad loser no man would want. Hollywood apparently didn't have the balls to take Rachel's portrayal in the book the whole nine yards: in the novel, she is overweight in addition to being an alcoholic. While Emily Blunt slums it a bit, she's nowhere near being fat.

You'll notice that all of these women's personalities and dreams require men to be in the picture. Anna is wanted by a man for her beauty and stability; Megan is wanted for her sexuality, but easily discarded after being used. And Rachel isn't wanted by men at all. I believe Hawkins was attempting to subvert these stereotypes in her book, but in my opinion she didn't subvert them enough.

In the end, of course, it's the men in their lives that drive these women insane. It's men--not other women--who hurt them and play them against one another. Who become jealous when they interact with other men. All three women in the book/movie might be flawed, but it's the men who are destructive.

Both the film and the book seem to want to say something deep about relationships and gender roles, but struggle amidst the massive amount of plot going on. With a constantly shifting point of view, flashbacks, unreliable narrators, an numerous twists, turns, and surprises, The Girl on the Train feels overstuffed and pulpy. What I liked about Gone Girl was that it was so ruthlessly, relentlessly bitter. Gone Girl had some inconsistencies and flaws as well, but it was more focused. The Girl on the Train, much like its protagonist Rachel, is sloppy and all over the place: it hits some of the notes and misses many others.

Still, when the final confrontation happens, the visceral thrill of seeing a beaten down woman fight back is as heady as anything. Most viewers will guess what happened to Megan Hipwell long before the final reveal, but the final scenes are still very good (if, again, pulpy).

The Girl on the Train, like the book it's based on, isn't a masterpiece. But it's not bad either. It's a good popcorn flick for a grey, rainy day. Just maybe don't watch it with your boyfriend or husband.

Grade: C+

Movie Dump, pt. 3

Movies: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Knock Knock, Holy Hell


Yes, another batch of movie reviews. But if you're into full-length reviews, fear not--I'm seeing The Girl on the Train and The Birth of a Nation later this week and will give them each their own blog entry.



***

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

Based on the novel by Ransom Riggs (which I have not read), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children is an entertaining, yet forgettable fantasy film with beautiful visuals and a confusing, overstuffed plot

Directed by Tim Burton, Miss Peregrine is a step up from some of the director's more recent fare, such as the Alice in Wonderland movies, but it's also not among (or even close to) his best work. At his best, Burton uses his signature quirky storytelling style to help audiences connect emotionally to the characters in his film--think of innocent, yet scary-looking Edward Scissorhands trying to fit into a candy colored suburb, or endlessly optimistic Ed Wood getting his awful movies produced. More recently, Burton used some restraint in his movie Big Eyes and the result was the heartfelt story of a female artist manipulated by her domineering husband. Burton knows how to tell a story and get audiences to care. He has proven it time and again.

At his worst, however, his movies forsake plot and nuance for wacky visuals and cartoonish characters (see: both Alice in Wonderland films). Miss Peregrine is only barely on the "right" side. Visuals are valued above all else, and what visuals they are! In Miss Peregrine, teenager Jake (Asa Butterfield) honors his grandfather's dying words to find Miss Peregrine, the woman who ran the home for children that Jake's grandfather grew up in. According to stories his grandpa told Jake as a child, Miss Peregrine had the power to turn into a bird, and all the children she watched over were "peculiars"--they all had abilities or quirks, such as the girl who was lighter than air and had to wear lead shoes to keep from floating away, or the boy with a hive of bees living in his stomach.

Jake and his disinterested father (Chris O'Dowd in a thankless role) head to the Welsh island where the grandfather grew up. Jake finds Miss Peregrine's home--it's a pile of rubble since the Germans dropped a bomb right on it in 1943. But when he explores the shell of the house, he runs into the peculiars who lure him through a passage and into a "loop"--basically, they live the same say--Sept. 3rd, 1943--over and over, setting back time right before the bomb lands on the house.

From here, the movie brings together a mishmash of fantastical themes: time loops (one can't help compare certain scenes in the movie to Groundhog Day), children with supernatural abilities, evil scientists, and grotesque monsters. While the film is enjoyable enough, it's difficult to 1) follow the plot, especially when the gang of peculiars starts traveling to *different* time loops and 2) really care about any of the characters. There are any number of relationships to be explored in this film: Jake and his beloved grandfather, Jake and his barely-giving-a-shit dad, Jake and his peculiar love interest. But there's not enough time or space in the movie to truly explore these relationships. Too much plot gets in the way.

I can't compare the movie to the book, as I haven't read the book...but books are able to juggle multiple themes over the course of hundreds of pages. In directing a movie adaptation of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, Burton may have bitten off more than he (or the audience) could chew.

Grade: C

***

Knock Knock

The Eli Roth film Knock Knock is garbage, plain and simple. It's really just an awful movie on so many levels.

In Knock Knock, Keanu Reeves plays Evan, a 40-something married man with a lovely wife and two adorable children. The artistic family--Evan is an architect and his wife, Karen, is a sculptor--live in a fancy home filled with art, music, and love. But when Karen takes the kids on a beach trip and leaves dad at home for the weekend, temptation strikes.

By temptation, I mean two scantily clad young women, Genesis (Lorenza Izzo) and Bel (Ana de Armas), who knock on Evan's door and beg to be let in from the thunderstorm outside and to use his phone to call an Uber. The two young ladies become increasingly flirtatious with Evan, who behaves like a complete gentleman--avoiding the ladies' flirtatious caresses, turning his head away from their nubile bodies, etc.

Ultimately, the two women practically force themselves on Evan, who succumbs to temptation and has a threesome with them. But what's super gross about all this is that Evan is literally saying "No! Stop!" over and over while Bel and Genesis shove their hands down his pants. What is this, dear readers? The correct answer is, of course, sexual assault. But the movie doesn't see it that way. Instead of presenting the women as fucking rapists, they're presented as naughty nymphs sent to tempt a happily married man. Sure, eventually Evan "participates", but only after saying "no" eleventy-billion times.

When the women don't leave the next day, Evan begins to realize he really is fucked. I won't reveals what happens after the first act of the film, but long story short: Genesis and Bel are psychos hell-bent on destroying this man's life for no reason other than their own amusement. It's misogynist trash that suggests that women--especially young, beautiful women--are crazy bitches who just can't want to destroy men. And men, of course, are totally innocent and weak in the face of feminine wiles.

Knock Knock is labeled as "erotic horror". That's a fucking laugh. There is nothing erotic about this movie, or the women who are INCREDIBLY annoying. Sure, they have nice bodies, but OH MY GOD they are awful in every other way.

My advice is to read the wikipedia article on Knock Knock is you want to know what fate befalls Evan. Don't bother watching the movie, which is an insulting waste of time.

Grade: D+

***

Holy Hell

Yes, it's another cult movie! Unlike The Invitation and The Sacrament, which I reviewed recently, Holy Hell is a documentary about a real life cult. Director Will Allen was in the Buddhafield cult for 22 years before he left (along with many others who had been in the cult since the 1980s) in the mid-2000s.

Led by a bizarre and charismatic man, Michel Rostand, the Buddhafield started out as more of a hippy-dippy commune where young people lived together, worked together, and by all accounts lived happy, healthy lives. Allen interviews a number of ex-cult members who recall wonderful friendships and experiences that came out of being part of Buddhafield.

But as the years went on, Michel, the leader of the cult who claimed to have a direct connection to God (don't they all?), became more and more narcissistic and strange. It became less about searching for God and looking inward and more about worshipping Michel, who was obsessed with his own beauty and ego (he underwent so much plastic surgery he began to look flat-out scary). The ex-cult members recall feeling angry and dissatisfied but unable to leave. Indeed, it was as if Michel was in an abusive, co-dependent relationship with all of them.

The big reveal, which isn't really a surprise if you know anything about cults (or hierarchical religion, for that matter), is that Michel was raping/sexually abusing dozens of the young men in the group for years. They would come to him for "therapy" sessions, he would fuck them against their will (Who can say "no" to a living god, which Michel believed he was), and then make them pay for the sessions. An interview with one of the ex-cult members is particularly distressing as he bitterly recalls being forcibly fucked by Michel weekly for 5 years.

What makes Holy Hell unique is that many of the members ended up leaving the cult (although Michel is still out there with a gang of followers) and now can look back with sober clarity at the years they wasted following a rapist and a fraud. The members, now in their 50s and 60s struggle to find meaning in the two decades they spent in the Buddhafield and realize that their friendships with other members gave meaning to those decades. Allen directs Holy Hell with sensitivity and understanding--he, too, believed in Michel and was raped by Michel. The ex-cult members are not portrayed as foolish weaklings or crazy people, but as complex human beings who see both the positive and negative in their experience with Buddhafield. Although many of them ended up traumatized by the emotional, psychological, and sexual abuse, Holy Hell shows that many of them are now on a path of healing and acceptance.

Grade: B

Movie Dump, pt. 2

Movies: Bernie, In Bruges, The Sacrament

Here's part two of my Netflix bonanza.


Bernie

Plot spoilers!

I can't believe I didn't watch this movie sooner. Directed by Richard Linklater, Bernie is, well, just about the most delightful film you'll watch about a guy who shoots a little old lady in the back.

Based on a true story, Jack Black plays Bernhardt Tiede, an assistant funeral director from Carthage, Texas. Bernie is one of the most popular men in his small community and beloved by everyone. He sings at the church, participates in community theatre, and as the assistant director of the Leggett Funeral Home, he oversees funerals with compassion and grace.

After the death of her husband, Bernie befriends Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine), a mean, hateful old broad whose reputation in Carthage is the polar opposite of Bernie's. Where Bernie is loved for his generosity and kindness, Marjorie is loathed for her spite and coldness. The two make the oddest couple (also, Bernie is in his late 30's and Marjorie in her 70's), but they find companions in one another. What starts out as beneficial to both of them--Marjorie has a travel companion who is nice to her and Bernie gets all expenses paid vacations around the world--begins to look more like indentured servitude as Marjorie gets meaner and more possessive of Bernie as time goes on. Until one day Bernie shoots Marjorie in the back and stuffs her body in a freezer. And then goes on to generously spend her money on helping out people in the community, all while pretending Marjorie is in a nursing home due to a stroke.

This movie is so great in so many ways. First, it's based on a true story and that story is bat-shit insane. They actually had to move Bernie Tiede's trial to another county because he was so well-liked in Carthage that District Attorney Danny Buck (Matthew McConaughey) didn't think he could get a conviction if the trial was held locally. The jury would be compromised.

Linklater films Bernie in partial "interview" style--not unlike Drop Dead Gorgeous and Modern Family, where the action of the film or show is broken up with characters speaking about events directly to the camera. This captures the local color of Carthage as well as the affection everyone had for Bernie despite the, uh, unpleasantness surrounding his arrest and trial.

While all the performances in Bernie are excellent, Jack Black is just...amazing. This might just be his best role to date. He captures the quirky, effeminate nature of Bernie Tiede--a sort of fussy, "light in the loafers" type of guy (there's an entire section of the film where interviewees speculate on whether Bernie is gay or not) who is also just so doggone nice and caring that you can't help but love him. By the end of the movie, you're basically like, "yeah, if I was on that jury, I'd vote to acquit him too".

Like I said, I can't believe I waited this long to watch Bernie, which has been on my Netflix queue for years. I'm glad I did because it's just...something else. I keep wanting to write that it's a "hoot", but that doesn't seem like an appropriate way to describe a movie where a guy pumps a little old lady full of lead...but here we are. It's a hoot.

Grade: A

***

In Bruges

Speaking of funny movies that involve pumping people full of lead, In Bruges is another film that mixes pathos with humor really effectively. In Bruges' reputation as a film precedes it--I kept hearing about how great this movie was and how it had a bit of a cult following. I can see why. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson star as Ray and Ken, two hit men told to hide out in Bruges, Belgium after a job and await further instructions by their boss, Harry (Ralph Fiennes), a man with a hair-trigger temper.

Ray is recovering from a hit job gone wrong and grappling with the guilt of killing an innocent bystander. He also fucking hates Bruges and thinks it's a terrible city. Ken tries to convince him to enjoy the history and sights, but Ray would rather sulk, drink, and try to get into the pants of Chloe (Clemence Posey), a woman who also has dark secrets.

In Bruges is pretty slow until you find out the actual reason Ray and Ken are in Bruges and then it really takes off. I know I sometimes spoil plot points in these reviews, but I won't for In Bruges. Trust me, just watch it. Especially if you like the films of Quentin Tarantino and Guy Ritchie. In Bruges can be very--even shockingly--violent. It also contains offensive language, and not just the f-word. But it's also very funny and even poignant. Hell, it's just plain sad at times. I think what surprised me most about In Bruges is that it's an emotionally and ethically complex film. I thought it was just going to be a dumb shoot-em-up, but it turned out to be deeper and more existential than I thought.

Grade: A-

***

The Sacrament

Directed by the very talented Ti West, The Sacrament is essentially a mockumentary-style film that fictionalizes the Jim Jones murders. Patrick (Kentucker Audley--who wins the prize for "most ridiculously preppy name") is a journalist for Vice media whose sister, Caroline (Amy Seimetz), an ex-drug addict, has joined a self-sustaining commune in South America called Eden Parrish. Patrick's colleagues, Sam and Jake (AJ Bowen and Joe Swanberg), convince him to take them on a visit to Eden Parrish while they film the whole thing for an immersive journalism piece. Well, obviously things don't go as planned and they can tell that something is not right when they see a bunch of guys with machine guns guarding the entrance to Eden Parrish.

While Patrick and Caroline reunite, Jake and Sam interview residents of the commune. All of them seem just over the moon to be living there. Many of them are elderly and have nowhere else to go. Some, like Caroline, are recovering drug addicts. None of them seem concerned about the lack of access to any forms of communication with the outside world or the limited medical supplies in Eden Parrish. They truly seem to believe they are living in a paradise.

Sam scores an interview with "Father" (Gene Jones, giving a chilling performance), the founder of Eden Parrish who successfully dodges Sam's pointed questions about why a community devoted to peace and non-violence has men with machine guns guarding the perimeter. Father turns Sam's implied criticisms back on him, saying that it's the big cities and the media that have poisoned Sam's mind against the possibility of peace and community building.

You'd have the be an idiot not to see where all this cheerful Kumbaya-ing is actually leading. But West makes it easy for viewers when a woman and her mute child come to Sam and Jake in secret, begging for a spot on their helicopter out of the country. You won't find subtlety or many surprise twists in The Sacrament, but the scenes where shit goes down are not only horrifying--they're emotionally disturbing. Again, this is basically the Jim Jones story, only fictionalized a bit.

Personally, I really enjoyed The Sacrament. I was surprised to see that it was not very well-reviewed when it came out and some critics consider it one of Ti West's weaker movies (I've see two of his other movies--The Innkeepers and House of the Devil--and I think this one is his best). So, different strokes, I guess. If you're into suspense/horror/movies about cults, I'd give this one a whirl.

Grade: B+