In Space, No One Can Hear You DIE

Movies: Life, Pet

Here are two horror movies, one good, one kinda stupid, that both use claustrophobic situations and gruesome AF deaths to heighten tension. Also, animals die in both, so if you're not into that, don't watch.

Life

I went to see the film Life on a whim--seemed like a good popcorn flick about aliens fucking shit up and also my bae Jake Gyllenhaal is in it. While not exactly the most original movie, Life did not disappoint.

The film is about a crew of astronauts on the International Space Station who are responsible for some samples taken from Mars. They are specifically looking for evidence of life of Mars and they find it. A single-cell organism is discovered in one of the samples and is nursed by biologist Hugh (Ariyon Bakare) who develops a bit of a parental relationship with the seemingly harmless little bugger, named "Calvin" by a group of school kids on earth.

By feeding Calvin glucose, the little alien starts growing larger and larger. The turning point comes when Hugh tries to stimulate Calvin with a mild electric shock and the alien grabs onto Hugh's arm and refuses to let go. Yup. This alien isn't the cute little Martian everyone thought it was. Calvin is a killer.

Let me warn any sensitive viewers: Life is gruesome as hell. The way Calvin survives and grows is by feeding on other organisms and it ain't pretty. There is a lab rat in the space station and, oh god, when Calvin gets to it--I almost wanted to throw up.

Life is incredibly effective at tapping into a variety of natural, human fears. There's the claustrophobia angle--with the six astronauts being trapped with this monster in a space station where you can't see around corners or get away very quickly. It's similar to the spelunking horror movie The Descent in that way.

Also, Calvin himself (itself?) is a deeply, deeply unsettling creature. He basically looks like a space octopus, with tentacles that can crush bones and a body that can swim easily in zero gravity. The way the alien moves taps into an animal part of the brain that screams PREDATOR.

Additionally, the way the characters die in the movie--and they all get to die in super gross and terrifying and creative ways--will haunt you. Two deaths in particular let camera linger on the actors' faces in their final moments, making the film have an almost "snuff" feel to it. Lovely.

As I said, Life isn't super original. It borrows heavily from films like Alien (duh) and (likely, unintentionally) Titanic, when two crew members are plotting their final escape while shivering in the cold space station and saying things like "Tell me you trust me." "I trust you". I mean, they basically ripped off Jack and Rose's final scenes together.

Still, if it borrows, Life borrows from the best. And while it takes a while to get going, once Life's on a roll it is a gory, freaky roller coaster ride to the very end.

If you can stomach the violence and enjoy scary movies, I heartily recommend Life. Be warned: it is almost entirely guaranteed to give you nightmares.

Grade: A-

***

Pet

And now something from the "stream, but don't pay money to watch" pile, Pet. A psychological thriller starring Dominic Monaghan (Merry Brandybuck, nooooooo) as Seth, an awkward, "Nice Guy" type dude who runs into an old classmate of his, Holly (Ksenia Solo), and promptly becomes obsessed with her and trying to talk to her and ask her out. Holly is not interested, but Seth persists, stalking her and even stealing and reading her diary to get more insight into Holly's mind.

Seth also works as a security guard to an animal shelter (sorry folks, it's not a "no kill" shelter and the dog dies. I repeat: A DOG DIES). So Seth has access to things like cages and water bowls and sedatives. Can you see where all this is headed?

Now here's the thing: Pet has about 14 plot twists to it. It's obviously from the fucking movie poster that Seth kidnaps Holly and locks her in a cage. But the reasons he does this are not what they seem from the get go. When Holly asks him why he's doing this, he says he wants to try and "save" her. You see, it turns out that Holly isn't exactly an innocent person after all. In fact, she's...

(Spoiler!!)

(Big Spoiler!!)


...a serial killer. Which she writes about in the diary Seth finds. Which is unlikely, but you have to suspend your disbelief a bit here. Seth confirms Holly's violent tendencies by following her around and watching her violently kill a bunch of randos. First of all, Seth happened upon literally the one female serial killer who violently kills strangers (female serial killers are incredibly rare, and the women who do kill multiple people tend to prey on vulnerable individuals, like the elderly and children, not adult men they meet on the street) and he decides not to call the police, but to "save" Holly. Fucking LOL. This guy deserves whatever's coming to him for his stupidity alone.

Once he has Holly in that cage, she uses the one tool she has to get out: manipulation. And because she's a SERIAL KILLER, she's really fucking good at it. And because Seth is a stupid Nice Guy, he falls for it in like two seconds. This guy really needs to read more true crime books before he attempts to redeem a psychotic killer.

Anyway, I'll stop there and let readers find out what happens if they so choose. Pet isn't that great of a film, but it does have some elements of novelty, such as the fact that it's a movie about a woman in a cage and 1) it's not sexualized, 2) there's no sexual violence or rape, and 3) she's actually not the victim. HE is. So, Pet has some qualities that make it worth streaming on a boring afternoon.

But the dog dies, so don't see it if you don't like that.

Grade: C+

Rock Out With Your Docs Out

Movies: 13th, Tickled

Here are reviews of two documentaries I've watched recently that couldn't be more different (except for the fact that they're both very good).

13th
Directed by Ava DuVernay 

13th, which refers to the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution, is absolutely heartbreaking and infuriating. It is also essential viewing and there is no excuse not to watch this incredibly important documentary.

Director DuVernay traces the rise of mass incarceration in the US starting with the abolition of slavery. The Thirteenth Amendment states, "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction". DuVernay traces a direct line between the end of slavery and the extremely high population of people of color in prison today. She covers the portrayal of black men as animalistic criminals in DW Griffith's Birth of a Nation, the rise of the KKK and lynch mobs, Jim Crow laws, the war on drugs, and mandatory minimum sentences--all of which contribute to the (false) ingrained beliefs many people--including black people themselves--have regarding the inherent criminality of black men.

Starting with Lyndon B. Johnson, no United States President is safe from DuVernay's criticism, as both Republican and Democratic POTUSes have contributed to the rise of mass incarceration. Perhaps most interesting to me was Bill and Hillary Clinton's continuation of Reagan's war on drugs and the "three-strikes laws" which led to non-violent criminals ending up in prison for decades or even life.

DuVernay interviews public figures who vary widely: from Angela Davis to Bryan Stevenson to a surprisingly sympathetic Newt Gingrich. These figures explain how the criminal justice system is essentially rigged so that people of color who commit the same crimes as whites end up with much harsher sentences. DuVernay's thesis is that mass incarceration is the new slavery. And with all the facts and historical context she presents...it's hard to argue against that.

13th will leave many people angry and upset and not knowing what to do. But even just knowing and acknowledging that we have an incredibly unfair and punitive justice system that is 1) inherently racist and 2) aims to brutally punish rather than rehabilitate is half the battle. Years ago, prison reform was barely a blip on my own radar and now, after reading and watching much more about it, I see prison and criminals in an entirely different light. The more intelligent, empathetic folks who watch this doc with an open heart and mind, the better. And the sooner we can fix this broken, sick system of institutionalized slavery that exists right under our noses.

Grade: A


Tickled
Directed by David Farrier and Dylan Reeve

Tickled is a bizarre documentary. It all began when New Zealand journalist David Farrier came across a Facebook group--Jane O'Brien Media--looking for young, athletic males to compete in "competitive endurance tickling" videos for cash. Let's just get this out of the way: yes, this is a sex thing. Though Farrier and his co-director Dylan Reeve play dumb at the beginning of the doc ("I was starting to think that "competitive endurance tickling" wasn't a real sport after all!" Farrier says at one point. OH REALLY?), anyone who wasn't born yesterday and who has been within 10 feet of the internet can see that this is a fetish thing.


Intrigued by such a strange "sport", Farrier emails the group asking if he can interview whoever is in charge and possibly do a story on it. He receives an insulting email back by someone named "Debbie Kuhn" who writes that their group wants nothing to do with a "homosexual journalist" (Farrier is openly bisexual). Farrier is taken aback, especially since the videos put out by Jane O'Brien Media are, well, pretty gay (attractive men tickling each other...fully clothed, but still...). But the harrasment doesn't stop after one email. Farrier is soon flooded with messages from this Debbie person calling him a "faggot".

Well, the lesson here is that if you try to intimidate a journalist into not looking into something, it will backfire.

Farrier and Reeve travel to Los Angeles to confront some of the folks behind Jane O'Brien media and are met with threats of legal suits and even personal threats against their families. They finally get a participant in one of the videos, T.J., to talk, and his revelations are shocking: after starring in one of these videos, whoever was behind Jane O'Brien Media began harassing T.J. and sending the video to his family and employers as well as emails claiming T.J. was gay, a fetishist, and even a child molester. He lost jobs over it. T.J. points out that most of the guys in these videos are young and strapped for cash. The person behind Jane O'Brien Media would send these dudes loads of cash and even buy them cars if they starred in "her" videos. But once "she" got them hooked, she'd turn on them and humiliate them by posting the videos all over the web without their permission.

You'll notice I'm writing "she" with quotation marks. Farrier and Reeve eventually uncover the name and identity of the definitely-not-a-woman behind these videos and this person's history and the magnitude of his (surprise, creepy dude on the internet is a man!) criminal activity is actually pretty shocking.

Farrier and Reeve, in their quest to understand the motivations of Jane O'Brien Media, interview a guy named Richard Ivey, who runs a website called "My Friend's Feet" (please God, don't let my parents be reading this!)--a gay, tickling fetish site. The difference between Ivey and the person behind Jane O'Brien Media is that everything Ivey does is aboveboard. He's comfortable with himself and his sexuality. He doesn't blackmail the men in his videos. By comparing Ivey to the criminal behind Jane O'Brien Media, Farrier and Reeve make sure that Tickled is not about mocking people with unusual sexual interests, but about not tolerating harassment and bullying.

Plenty of people will be weirded out by Tickled. As someone interested in sexuality, I was fascinated by it. But what was perhaps most fascinating is that for a film about sexual fetishism, it barely touches on the sexual aspects of this so-called "sport" Farrier runs across on Facebook and instead delves into what can happen when a person with a lot of money and no ethics decides to ruin someone's life for no reason. As Farrier says at the end of the doc: "It was never about the tickling. It was about the power". And that might be the strangest sentence I've ever typed out.

Grade: A-
 

Love Coming Out of Her...Wherever

Movies: The Love Witch

Anna Biller's film The Love Witch is...indescribable. It's a super-super-super indie movie that was not widely released. I only saw it through the grace of a true cinephile friend (hi, John!) who seeks out weird movies and tells me to watch them (he's the one who first told me to watch Duke of Burgundy and for that I will be forever grateful).

Perhaps the most notable thing about The Love Witch is that it was filmed in technicolor, so it looks ripped straight out of the late 60s/early 70s. Additionally, the costumes and sets give the film a retro look although the time period in which the film is set is ambiguous. Really, the best thing I can do is post some screencaps and let you see for yourself:

See what I mean?

The Love Witch is worth watching for the unique cinematography alone and it truly is its saving grace as the actual plot starts to lag in the second half of the film.

Briefly, The Love Witch is about a woman, Elaine (Samantha Robinson), who identifies as a witch (she went through a sex ritual and everything!). After the death of her husband, Jerry, she rents a room from her friend Trish. Elaine wants to make a man fall in love with her, so she begins seeking out potential bachelors (or, in the case of Trish's husband, Richard, married men) and using her witchy spells to make them fall for her. Problem is, Elaine's love magic is TOO powerful and then men fall SO hard for her, they...well, they die. Girl's still learning, ok?!

The film's message is both radically and subversively feminist. On the one hand, Elaine's desire for a man--any man!--and her seduction tactics (Cook him dinner! Wear sexy lingerie! "Be his fantasy", as she tells Trish) are directly out of a 1960s relationship advice book. Additionally, Elaine's "dicks before chicks" attitude toward her friend Trish (she seduces Trish's husband, like, immediately) is very anti-feminist.

On the other hand, Elaine is a frighteningly powerful woman. First of all, she can--and does--kill men. Sometimes accidentally, sometimes on purpose. Her first victim is Wayne, a college professor. After being hexed with love, Wayne becomes attached and needy. He eventually dies of a broken heart. Elaine takes one look at the sobbing man and sneers "pussy".

Elaine's blase attitude toward men borders on the hilarious. She's a full-blown sociopath who loves 'em and leaves 'em when they inevitably fail to live up to her romantic fantasies. And this is perhaps where the crux of the feminist message of The Love Witch lies: it's not *men* or any one *man* Elaine wants, it's *love*. She doesn't give a fuck about these dudes--they're merely vessels to provide her with something she wants. And if they don't work out, she's on to the next poor sap to cross her path.

Also, and maybe I'm reading to much into this, but the men Elaine seduces all have penis/bluntly masculine names. There's Wayne Peters (peter!), Richard (i.e. Dick), and Griff. Maybe I'm getting a little too Feminist Cinema 101 here, but I feel like Biller was trying to express that, to Elaine, men are interchangeable symbols of masculinity. They're merely ready and waiting phalluses (phalli?) in suits for Elaine to mess around with and then dump.

The Love Witch is a real trip. It's High Camp, complete with purposefully cheesy special effects, saturated colors, and gratuitous female flesh. I watched it with a few friends and half the time we were going "what the fuck?". It's certainly not the greatest film ever (although it has an inexplicable 96% on Rotten Tomatoes, so I guess the critics liked it), but it's too unique to be denied.

Just watch the trailer. Perhaps you'll be as mesmerized by Elaine as her beaux were...before they perished...

Grade: A

White Fright

Movies: Get Out

Director Jordan Peele (of Key & Peele fame) has directed the perfect horror film that taps into the American Zeitgeist of race relations and white privilege. As any dedicated fan of horror knows, a scary movie is never just a scary movie, but a commentary on culture and common cultural fears. Much has been written about women in horror movies: the slut who gets taken out in the first act for the crime of having sex, the pure (often brunette) "final girl" who lives to tell the tale, and all the shrieking bimbos and feisty women in between.

But what about race and horror movies?

Like the "slut" trope in slasher movies, plenty of horror films also feature a token black character who gets offed pretty quickly to make more screen time for the white protagonists. Get Out, however, is different. Black people are indeed the prey of the film, but not as a careless afterthought. The movie is about the everyday horror of Living as Black in the United States taken to the extreme.

Detailed plot discussion ahead. If you want to go in with a blank slate, stop reading now!

Get Out's opening sequence features a black man trying to find someone (his girlfriend's?) house in a white, wealthy suburb. A car pulls up next to him and then begins following him. He says "Not today" and turns around, eliciting knowing laughter from the audience I was watching the movie with. Sure enough, an assailant whom we can't see exits the car and attacks the man, all set to the creepy 1930's tune "Run Rabbit Run". This is only the first instance in Get Out where a black person is symbolically liked to an animal--prey--to be hunted down by white people.

The film then cuts to photographer Chris (Daniel Kaluuya, whom savvy pop culture aficionados will recognize from the Black Mirror episode "Fifteen Million Merits") who is about to take a trip to upstate New York to meet his white girlfriend, Rose's (Allison Williams of Girls in full basic bitch mode), parents. He asks her if they know he's black. She gets a little annoyed with him: "They aren't racist" she assures Chris. SUUURRRREEEEEE thinks the audience.



While Rose's parents, beautifully played with subtle condescension by Catherine Keener and Bradley Whitford, are very polite, it's clear that they really don't know how to interact with black people. Whitford's character, Dean Armitage, is all too eager to tell Chris he would have voted for Obama for a third term if he could have and keeps calling Chris "my man". Keener's character, Missy Armitage, is a psychiatrist who keeps aggressively offering to hypnotize Chris to help him dump his "nasty" habit of smoking. When Rose's brother, Jeremy (Caleb Landry-Jones, the one false note in the movie), shows up, things get even weirder.

But the weirdest thing to Chris are the Help: the housekeeper, Georgina, and the groundskeeper, Walter, are both black and act bizarrely robotic and, well, "white". When Chris tries to interact with them, one black person to another, they act confused and upset. As is often the case in horror movies, something is Not Right.

But the action really begins after Armitage's host a lawn party and Chris runs into another young, black male who acts so "not black" that Chris is thoroughly creeped out.

For once in a review, I won't fully blow the plot twist, but I can tell you that Get Out combines the everyday horror of black people being stared at, condescended to, and fetishized by white people with actual horror movie elements. The film makes symbolic reference to Trayvon Martin--a boy seen as a threat to white people even as he was literally stalked, hunted down, and murdered by George Zimmerman. While white people hold their bags closer and lock their car doors around young black males, those same males are treated as animals to be dispatched and controlled. Who should be afraid of whom?

Get Out also makes specific reference to Olympic winner Jesse Owens, as Dean proudly tells Chris that his own father was beaten by Owens in the qualifying races before Ownes went on to show the world--and Hitler--that black athletes can best white ones. "[My father] almost got over it" Dean jokes to Chris. In the movie, white people discuss black bodies in fetishistic terms ("Is it...better?" an old white lady asks Rose. Wink wink), referring to black men's supposed prowess in sports and sex. These conversations should be familiar to black audiences and cringe-y to white audiences. I myself have been privy to conversations from white relatives about how "blacks are naturally better athletes".  And guess what, America? That's racist! Because it's reducing black people to their bodies...not an unprecedented thing in American history.

White people can be such dumb motherfuckers sometimes, I can't even.

Get Out, with a nearly perfect score on Rotten Tomatoes (the one negative review is by a black journalist for The National Review--make what you will of that!), is a genuinely creepy, suspenseful movie that is also filled with laughs (it is directed by Peele, after all). It's also deeply cathartic, especially given our bullshit political atmosphere right now. It's not perfect (the character Jeremy really just feels like he belongs in another movie), but it's really good and doesn't hesitate to make the audience stare both benevolent and malevolent racism right in the face.

Grade: A

Men Raised By Women

Movies: 20th Century Women

In 2010, Mike Mills directed the twee film Beginners, a tribute to his father who at age 75 came out as gay and lived life to the fullest until his death 5 years later. I really enjoyed Beginners despite the fact that it had a scene where a beautiful girl who barely speaks English roller skates down the hall of a hotel. That kind of stuff makes me roll my eyes.

But Mills has returned with a film that captures all of the warm fuzzies of Beginners with much less of the whimsy. 20th Century Women is a beautiful ode to Mills' mother and to women in general. While not strictly autobiographical, Mills incorporates aspects of his real life, such as the fact that he grew up in California and that his mother passed away of cancer in the late 90s.

While 20th Century Women is short on plot, it's long on atmosphere and characterization. Newcomer Lucas Jade Zumann plays Jamie Fields, a 15 year old boy growing up in Santa Barbara, CA in 1979 with his single mom, Dorothea, who is played by the indomitable Annette Bening. Though the plot hinges on Dorothea's scheme to recruit Jamie's best friend, Julie (Elle Fanning), and Abbie, a punk-y photographer in her mid-20s who rents a room from Dorothea (Greta Gerwig), to help "raise" Jamie properly, the film is less about Jamie and more about the women--especially given backdrop of late-stage second wave feminism influencing everyone's politics and lifestyles.

To me, Abbie and Dorothea are the two most interesting characters, especially when they butt heads. Abbie gives Jamie a copy of Robin Morgan's Sisterhood is Powerful which leads Jamie into getting beaten up for telling a macho friend that he probably didn't get his girlfriend off during sex since he didn't stimulate her clitoris (the whole exchange might be my favorite scene in a movie ever). While Dorothea is for women's rights, she's uncomfortable with the frank discussion of sexuality that has become commonplace among feminists. Another scene where Abbie forces everyone at a dinner party to say "menstruation" out loud hits this point home: Dorothea thinks people don't need to discuss such things while Abbie thinks it's healthier if people are able to talk about bodies and sex.

I liked that Mills didn't turn Dorothea into a saint. She's a strong woman, but not without her insecurities. It was refreshing to feel both adoration for her character for her grit and intelligence and also annoyance at her old fashioned ways.

In addition to the women and Jamie, Billy Crudup plays William, another border of Dorothea's. William adds a gentle masculinity into the mix, doing home repairs for Dorothea and allowing himself to be seduced by Abbie (in a refreshingly realistic sex scene where Abbie asks William to "tell her a story" [i.e. role-play] to get her in the mood).

The overarching feeling of 20th Century Women is one of realistic sweetness. The twee I tend to find annoying is gone and replaced with authenticity. Other reviews have pointed out that although not much happens in the film, it never feels slow or boring. Not unlike Manchester By the Sea, 20th Century Women feels like you're just dropping in and watching people's lives unfurl in real time, with all their flaws and humanity in tact. Though 20th Century Women doesn't beg to be the center of attention, it's well worth the watch.

Grade: A-

Are You There, God?

Movies: Silence

A 161 minute long film about 17th century Jesuit priests facing torture and persecution in Japan hardly sounds like a fun movie. And it isn't fun, like, at all. I happily give my readers permission not to skip this one. Read the novel, by Shusako Endo instead. It's shorter!

But for those out there who have some sort of relationship to Christianity/religion, whether you are devout, middling, or militantly atheistic, it's worth the watch merely for the food for thought. It asks the question: is the path to God through rigidity and refusal to back down, or through flexibility and mercy?

Silence is a pretty relevant story for 2017. The United States is entering a period where the powers that be are taking on a more isolationist, exclusive approach to foreign policy. Just today, "President" Trump signed an executive order suspending admission of nationals from "terror-prone" countries to the United States. One of those countries is Syria, which means we can't admit refugees fleeing from their own government.

Many citizens, including practicing Christians, see this as a positive. A way to protect our lives and liberties. But what's interesting is that during centuries past, including the time period in this film, Christians traveled the world spreading the gospel. Even when they we're welcome by the powers that be.

So, on one level, Silence is, as a friend of mine put it, an "anti-colonialist piece". It challenges the narrative that white people from Europe saved and civilized people in foreign countries. Although Fathers Ferreria (Liam Neeson), Garupe (Adam Driver), and Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield), do in fact have very devout Japanese followers and are ecstatic when Garupe and Rodrigues show up (to find Ferreria, who, rumor has it, apostatized and lives "as a Japanese" now), their leaders are determined to wipe Christianity out of Japan. During many conversations between Rodrigues and Head Inquisitor Inoue (Issei Ogata), the gentle-seeming old man with a heart of iron explains that Christianity is a barren tree which can bear no fruit in Japan. Rodrigues argues that this is because the leaders of Japan have forcibly ripped Christianity up by the roots.

Who is right? Perhaps both men. As an individual with a Western mindset, I tended to air on the side of the priests who, with their own eyes, see the gratefulness of the rural poor Japanese who have found solace in their new religion. In my mind, I'm like "they clearly want this religion in their lives. Who are the leaders to force them to abandon it?". But that's an American, individualistic mindset.

The film remains coy about which culture's side it takes, though the final scene gives a hint as to where director Scorsese's heart lies. But the point of this film isn't whether Christianity or Buddhism "wins", it's to explore the complexities faith and culture.

In addition to the film's meditations on colonialism and proselytization, Silence also asks Christians difficult questions about what it means to have faith and be merciful. Young, arrogant Fathers Rodrigues and Garupe enter Japan fearful, but fully willing to be tortured and die for their faith. Inquisitor Inoue is onto this, and so he raises the stakes of the game: he will torture other people--innocents taken from their homes, and who have already renounced Christianity--until the Fathers apostatize. It's diabolical--and it's very smart. Inoue knows that Japanese Christians are already willing to die for their faith, but if they see a priest--a man close to God--deny HIS faith, they are more likely to give up this foreign religion.

Spoilers below:

Two scenes show what happens when Garupe and Rodrigues are put to the test. When Garupe refuses to trample (place his foot on) the fumie (a plaque with an image of Jesus or Mary on it), Japanese converts who have already renounced Christianity are drowned in the sea--and Garupe follows, desperately trying to save them and drowning himself in the process.

Later, after countless conversations with Inoue, Rodrigues finally meets Fererria, who has indeed renounced his faith (to save suffering converts) and has taken a Japanese wife and works for Inoue now. Rodrigues is outraged, but when he is faced with a group of converts suffering a torture known as "the pit", in which slits are made behind their ears and they are bound upside down so that they slowly bleed out, Rodrigues is forced to make a choice: trample the fumie or let these people suffer for days until they die. It's not fair, but it's the choice he's given. As Fererria tells him, "You are about to commit the most painful act of love".

The title Silence refers to Rodrigues' (portrayed with an intensity and soulfulness by Garfield) relationship to God. He is on fire with faith, but as he sees more and more suffering and prays harder and harder, he begins to feel an overwhelming sense of aloneness. "Am I praying to silence?" he asks. It is only when he is about the trample the fumie that God finally breaks the silence, saying (and I'm quoting from the novel the film is based on because I couldn't find an accurate quote from the film):

You may trample. You may trample. I more than anyone know of the pain in your foot. You may trample. It was to be trampled on by men that I was born into this world. It was to share men's pain that I carried my cross.

Now, I'm not the most religious person in the world, but that hit me right in the feels. THAT is Christianity. No judgement. No condemnation for failing to "follow the rules". Simply peace and love that passes understanding from our Wonderful Counselor.  

That our human suffering might, in fact, be meaningless. That martyrdom might, in fact, be an act of supreme arrogance. That the best evangelism might be mercy and understanding, not conversion. This is a hard pill for many Christians to swallow because it's saying "You aren't in control. You don't decide. And your attempts to bend others' faith to your will is wrong."

I feel that this message is something Christians in America need to hear now more than ever. Hell, it's something I needed to hear, because my faith has always been an angry, tenuous faith. Y'all, I tend to loathe other Christians (not all, I have some amazing, truly loving Christian friends and family members). I look at them and I see a selectiveness. A willingness to bend the rules for their own sake, but not for others (people who have sex outside of marriage but are against gay marriage, for example). I see massive amounts of condescension ("Oh, I'll pray for you." No thanks! I don't want your passive-aggressive, masturbatory prayer!).

But all those things I see in others (and the anger and cynicism I see in myself), are simply the human condition. Humans aren't good, and they certainly aren't perfect. They're self-serving and fearful: just look at who we elected. Our own cowardice (even those who didn't vote for Pussy Grabber in Chief) brought us to this. We are only human.

So, to avoid going off the rails here, Silence is a compelling film on a philosophical and theological level. It's bound to piss people off, just as Scorsese's earlier film, The Last Temptation of Christ, caused boycotts and riots. Interestingly, both films portray--to greater or lesser extents--Christ as human. In Last Temptation, Christ is tempted by the promise of a normal life. In Silence he whispers to Rodrigues that He was born to earth to understand man's suffering. How radical, making the divine just like us--weak, fearful, small--so that He can love us all the more.

There seem to be two lines of thought regarding Christianity that I see playing out these days: the tough love, letter of the law attitude. "We can't celebrate or normalize sin!" they cry (as they sin). "I have the real truth!" they crow, smug in their knowledge that they'll be saved while those who disagree will burn.

And then there are the people who are willing to admit they they don't have all the answers. That look upon their own sin first. That believe it's more important to be kind than to be right. I like to aim for this second version, on the occasions I feel compelled to have faith (which I don't always have), though I often fail. And I know which side Silence takes.

Grade: B

2016: The Best and the Rest

Movies: Best Of

Well, I'm getting my "Best Of" list in a bit early this year. Usually I wait until about mid-January in order to make sure I've seen everything I want to see. On the other hand, there's nearly always at least one movie I know would make the list but takes its sweet ol' time making it to a theater near me. This year, that movie is Martin Scorsese's Silence, which I'm sure will be as devastating and amazing as its previews promise. Additionally, there are several films either still in theaters (Loving) or available to rent (American Honey, Midnight Special), that have made many critics' best of lists...but I'm not feeling super motivated to watch them at the moment.

I tend to follow my own timeline with many things in life, including updating this blog! So, with that said, here are my favorite movies of 2016:

***

10. Jackie

A somber, verging on creepy, portrait of one of the most glamorous, dignified FLOTUSes ever to walk the rooms of the 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Jackie follows the eponymous first lady in the days following her husband's brutal assassination. Director Pablo Larrain uses intense close-ups of Natalie Portman's face, as well as a nauseatingly creepy musical score, to unsettle the audience and capture the grief of Jackie Kennedy as she dealt with the death of her spouse who was also the leader of the free world. Jackie is the anti-popcorn flick (although I did eat popcorn while I watched it): unnerving, emotionally intense, and introspective. But movie buffs and history buffs will find it worth their while.

9. Deadpool

Ok, now here's your popcorn flick! And what a popcorn flick it is! Deadpool is an irreverent, "hard-R", fiercely funny addition to the Marvel canon. As someone who finds superhero movies either 1) boring or 2) tolerable, Deadpool is the superhero movie I've been waiting for. Finally, a superhero movie that understands my need for jokes about pegging and face-sitting! And underneath Deadpool's (played with panache by Ryan Reynolds) barrage of snark, fourth-wall breaking, and flirtations with all genders, races, and creeds, is a sweet love story and, weirdly, a message about beauty and body image. It also contains my favorite line of the year:

"With a brief adjustment period, and a lot of drinks, it's a face I'd be happy to sit on."

Now that's love, people.

8. The Invitation

Although you can easily guess how this movie, about a man who attends a party at his ex-wife's home, ends, The Invitation manages to keep the tension high until the explosive climax. Directed by Kayrn Kusama and starring a cast of mostly unknowns (with John Carrol Lynch as the exception--he's always up to play a weirdo!), The Invitation is everything I love in a movie: independent, psychologically disturbing, with just a touch of camp to add flavor. It's just so fun to watch and the final image will haunt you.

7. Don't Think Twice

I think one of the best things about Don't Think Twice is director and star Mike Birbiglia's willingness to look at the culture of improv comedy (and this could be applied to any hobby or community) and say, "these people are both great, and also a little bit up their own asses". Capturing that sweet spot between group of friends who support each other and echo chamber/slightly cultish, Birbiglia dives into The Commune, a group of improv performers whose members dream of making it big someday.

Each character is lovingly rendered. There's Birbiglia's Miles, a 35 year old who lives in a shitty apartment, sleeps with his improv students (don't worry--they're [barely] of legal age!), and knows--even though he won't admit it--that The Commune is as far as he's gonna get in the comedy world. There's Jack, played to perfection by Keegan-Michael Key, as a showboating, stage-hogging funny guy who actually gets a shot at real fame. There's Gillian Jacobs' sweet Sam, who feels pressure to also want fame although, truth be told, she's happy settling for less. By the end of the movie, you'll have run the gamut from thinking these characters are barfingly annoying to wanting to hug them and have a beer with them. To me, that's the true measure of success in a film: do the characters feel like real people, warts and all? In Don't Think Twice, they absolutely do.

6. Nocturnal Animals

Nocturnal Animals contains the most tense, nail-biting, breath-holding, pillow-grabbing sequence in a movie I saw this year. This sequence happens in almost real time and contains some of the darkest fears--gendered fears, in fact--we dare think about. A man is unable to protect his wife and daughter. In our culture, a man who can't protect his women is not a man at all (I'm not saying I agree with this, I'm just saying it's a thing a lot of people believe). And as a woman watching the scene, it tapped into the horrors I, and many women, think about so often that it's nearly white noise: being overpowered by men who definitely plan on hurting you.

Nocturnal Animals, directed by Tom Ford, didn't get the best reviews, but its story-within-a-story grabbed me in a way so many other films this year did not. The inner story is better than the framing story, which is about a wealthy but unfulfilled woman (Amy Adams) thinking back to her first marriage after receiving a manuscript (the plot of which is the inner story) from her ex. But even the framing story is intriguing--it's more about emotional violence than physical violence. Nocturnal Animals, like life itself, doesn't have a tidy resolution and is filled with both beauty and regret.

5. Green Room

Like The Invitation and Nocturnal Animals, Jeremy Saulnier's tight, violent thriller got my heart beating and my blood pumping. Set in a dive bar in a remote part of Oregon, the film follows punk band the Ain't Rights as they fall prey to a group of neo-Nazis who own the place. After witnessing a murder in the titular green room, the band is held captive by the jack-booted thugs and their disturbingly polite boss, played by the silver-tongued Patrick Stewart.

Green Room wasn't trying to make a political statement--it's merely sick entertainment for the likes of me and other viewers who want to see a dog rip a guy's throat out--but, whoa, times have changed since I saw it in May, and with a racist dickhead (there really is no slur or insult strong enough to accurately convey my feelings about the vile, orange vomit bag that is Trump) and his cronies--some of whom might actually be Nazis--about the overtake the White House, Green Room is all the more terrifying and relevant.

4. La La Land

And now, something for you freaks who don't want rape, murder-suicide, and Nazis in your movies. Damien Chazelle's La La Land will transport you to the dream world you desire, filled with spontaneous outbreaks of song and perfect choreography to go with it. A loving tribute to Hollywood musicals of old, La La Land is dazzling, its stars beautiful (well, one of them at least. Emma Stone is legitimately looking a little strange these days), its songs original, and its story romantic.

La La Land takes place in a world where if you work hard enough your dreams will actually come true. It's a world in which a window always opens when a door shuts. It's a fantasy where even if you don't get everything you've ever desired, you still get so, so much. It's also in the number one slot for many critics and viewers favorite films of 2016--precisely, I think, because it is the antithesis of 2016 and everything this fucked, wretched year represents. In fact, it was a little too optimistic for me. But still, it deserves a place of honor for having the balls to believe in a better tomorrow. And for that fabulous observatory dance sequence.

3. Moonlight

Moonlight is a gentle film about a type of person the world doesn't treat gently: poor, black, gay men. Even the film's harshest moments have an air of dignity and grace, such as when young Chiron is screamed at by his crack-addicted mother--a mother who, for all her weaknesses, never stops loving the boy.

Moonlight drops in on Chiron three times: when he's a scrawny, timid 9 year old, nicknamed "Little"; when he's a gangly, introverted teenager beginning to explore his forbidden sexuality; and as a jacked up adult, rich from selling drugs, but still reticent and even timid, as he visits an old friend. Director Barry Jenkins takes all the notable things about Chiron: his blackness, his sexuality, and his relationship to drugs, and...doesn't dwell on them in the least. He refuses to wholly define Chiron by any of these things and, instead, says to the audience: look upon this human; in him I am well pleased. Indeed, if there is a god in any of the films I've reviewed here, He/She is in Moonlight, which sees the value in humanity even when that humanity is small, scared, angry, and weak.

Set in Miami, Moonlight is as languid, warm, and sensuous as the salty sea and air. It has neither the nihilism of a film like Nocturnal Animals, nor the blind optimism of La La Land: instead, it falls squarely into a state of grace.

2. Manchester By the Sea

And speaking of grace, Kenneth Lonergan's opus of daily life is practically Biblical in it's exploration of loss and forgiveness. It's actually quite similar to Moonlight, only colder (set in Massachusetts, not Miami) and whiter (snow; white people). But, like Moonlight, it's themes  touch on humanity, grace, family, and love. Hell, it even uses selections from Handel's Messiah as background music.

Before you throw Manchester By the Sea into the rubbish bin of overwrought dramas, let me say this: the film is scary good. It's about a man who has to return to his hometown after his brother passes away and finds out he is now officially the guardian of his 16 year old nephew. But Lee (played by Casey Affleck) doesn't want to be this kid's guardian and doesn't want to move back to his hometown because his past there is deeply tragic. Despite the tragic backstory, Lonergan isn't interested in force-feeding emotions to the audience. If anything, Manchester doesn't get enough press on how funny it is--it could easily be classified as a "dramedy". And I think the film's humor and subtle, yet deeply felt emotions, are its saving grace: it feels lived in and real. Some people go to the movies to escape, and Manchester isn't for them. Manchester is a film that seeks to hold up a mirror to our own lives and the dramas, small and large, in them.

1. The Lobster

While there were many excellent films released in 2016, none of them hold a candle to The Lobster for sheer creativity and world-building. When I saw Yorgos Lanthimos' film, which takes place in a world in which being single is outlawed and all singles have 45 days to find a mate or they are turned into an animal of their choosing, I knew it would be my favorite of 2016. Perhaps that became a self-fulfilling prophecy, but so what? The film deserves it.

The Lobster has moments of incredible darkness and violence. If you're an animal lover, for the love of Marmaduke, do not see this film. Animals die in the movie and, in one scene, they die horrifically. But it makes sense in a film where people become animals for animals to die/be murdered. I think what I admired most about The Lobster was that Lanthimos committed 100% to this dark, strange world he created. He pulls no punches.

But even though it's dark (and darkly funny, I'll add), the film is also a love story between sad-eyed David (played by Colin Farrell, who "uglies up" for the movie, meaning he looks cute and attractive instead of insanely hot like he usually is) and "The Near-Sighted Woman" played by Rachel Weisz. Their love is unusual--it's the Wes Anderson version of love, filled with deadpan humor and bizarre rituals. But it's love made all the more passionate and intense given that it is forbidden (Weisz is part of a group out chaste, single outlaws, who are forbidden to have relationships).

The Lobster, like my favorite film of 2015, The Duke of Burgundy, is strange and unique. But that's exactly what makes it #1 in my book--it's a film that won't speak to a lot of people, but it speaks to me.

***

Worst movie of the year:

Swiss Army Man

Swiss Army Man, also known as the "Daniel Radcliffe plays a farting corpse" movie, is also quite unique. I have to give credit where credit is due: this movie is fucking weird and has about the biggest balls on it of any movie I saw this year. But, sadly, it is also unfocused, twee, trite, and ultimately an embarrassment. I have no idea how the directors, "The Dans" (Dan Kwan and Dan Scheinert) got this film made and released into theaters. I suppose I could say the same about The Lobster, which has an equally bizarre plot. But the difference is that The Lobster has a coherent plot and also a point to it. Swiss Army Man seems to have kind of a plot, but the ending is just a goddamn mess. And I have no idea what the point or message was because it's just all over the place. My feeling after having watched it was that I was being laughed at by the directors.

Are there worse films than Swiss Army Man? Of course. The worst sin a film can commit, in my opinion, is to be boring (and as someone who watches 3-hour long subtitled dramas, I have a high threshold for boring). Swiss Army Man is a lot of things, but it ain't boring. However, considering that I don't see every film released each year, Swiss Army Man is about as low as it can get for me.

***

Thank you all for reading! Onward to 2017!