KWIF: The Invite (+1)

 KWIF=Kent's Week in Film. A quieter week.

This Week:
The Invite (2026, d. Olivia Wilde - in theatre)
The Samurai and the Prisoner (2026, d. Kiyoshi Kurosawa - in theatre)

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Late in the week a whole slew of new releases dropped that I want to check out in theatre. Early in the week, I had nothing I was itching to see. So I saw The Invite.

I've enjoyed Olivia Wilde's films in the past (Booksmart was fantastic and Don't Worry Darling was a mess, yes, but an interesting one). The Invite really intrigued me until I started hearing critical feedback (almost universally positive and/or glowing) that talked about the premise of the film. Like The Drama earlier this year, another critically well-received movie (and very successful one at that, grossing over 100mil at the box office), I was intrigued but upon hearing that premise but my aversion to discomfort steered me away.

The Invite's simple premise conjured little but cringe comedy in my mind, and I just don't have the stomach for such comedic affairs anymore. Here Angela (Wilde) and her husband Joe (Seth Rogen) are hosting their upstairs neighbours Pina (Penelope Cruz) and Hawk (Ed Norton) for a getting-to-know you dinner. They get to know their upstairs neighbours alright, they get to know that they are swingers and the titular invite is not for dinner, but to have group sex. (Uh, spoiler, I guess)

You can already start to see the many, many opportunities to have one's hackles raised just in such a simple description. But it seems so much worse...potentially... when you learn, within the first ten minutes of the film, that Angela and Joe are both miserable in their relationship, do little other than argue, and Joe is totally not on board with the short-notice event Angela has arranged.  You can just picture the cringe-inducing moments as Joe and Angela put on their game faces and try to hid their bitterness towards each other for the benefit of the guests.

But that's not this film. Mercifully that's not this film.

Not to say that The Invite is a comforting watch by any means, but it is not interested in being cringe comedy in the slightest.

With a savvy script from Rashida Jones and Will McCormack (based of a 2021 Spanish film The People Upstairs), The Invite immediately cuts out the pretense the moment Pina and Hawk walk in the door. Joe is not hiding in the slightest his displeasure about this dinner date, while Pina and Hawk immediately fess up that they heard their hosts arguing through the door when they arrived.

The smart play in all this is that Angela and Joe are emotionally repressed, while Pina and Hawk are emotionally intuitive. Pina is also a therapist so she, in particular, has a way of approaching a hostile environment and cutting through the tension. Hawk has such an easy going, friendly demeanour that he not only seems open to talking about anything, he kind of draws things out of people.

And so the evening, set for disaster, is...well... a disaster, but a disaster that ebbs and flows in waves. Joe and Angela are unable to contain their hostility but Pina and Hawk are continually able to disarm them, to a point.  Joe wants nothing more than to confront their upstairs neighbours about their loud, middle-of-the-night sex noises, but Angela is committed to saying nothing and wanting to make friends (which are in short supply).

When the truth about Pina and Hawk's sexual proclivities come to light, suddenly you see Angela and Joe in a whole new light. Their elation and excitement and curiosity becomes a shared moment where they seem like a loving couple and best friends... for a little bit.  And then the ebb and flow begins again.

The Invite is a comedy-drama. It lives squarely between those two worlds. There are some pretty good laughs, but there's also dramatic intensity as the core of this film is not a goofy sex comedy but a break-up story. To paraphrase a review on Letterboxed, this may be the film that launches a thousand divorces. 

It's a pretty exceptional production featuring a cast of only four actors that carry pretty the entire hour and forty minutes with remarkable performances. Rogen provides a reminder that, yes, he may be a very specific type, but within that type he's got exceptional range and is undervalued as a dramatic performer. Wiled is a perfect bundle of tension looking for release.  Cruz is effortlessly alluring that you have to wonder if it's a put on and Norton is at his best in a very long time being affable, enticing but also a little weird and sad. 

It's a film that is part TV bottle episode, part stage play, but only feels at home structured as a movie. Wilde's direction is exceptional and intriguing that follows the appropriate action to accentuate the comedy or the drama (and sometimes cleverly elides over details for comedic or dramatic effect). The opening credits are an editing smorgasbord of repeating frames and or split screens that doesn't necessarily prepare you for the film to come based on the content of the images presented, but gives the feeling of a 70's relationship comedy and/or drama, which should tell you what you're in for. 

My immediate impulse was to compare it to Woody Allen's work of the 70's and 80's, sans-neuroses, and I only hesitate because Allen's reputation has been tainted so greatly by, well, you know (and if you don't, look it up), that it seems wrong to compare anything to his work. And yet, I can't think of much else other than Allen's work looking at relationships and sex and mixing it with awkward comedy and emotionally impactful drama that seems to have all but disappeared in the wake of, well, Allen's irrelevance (as if the whole realm or style storytelling was verboten). There's been few films that really trigger that sense of "oh, here's what we've been missing from our cinematic diet" so specifically.

I was indeed surprised to find not a cringe comedy, but a thoughtful, thought-provoking, funny, fascinating, mature and entertaining film that challenges the audience who may cross their arms with discomfort, but asks them to uncross them and open up.

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I am by no means an expert of samurai fare...though I have dabbled in it infrequently over my many decades. It's a subgenre of historical storytelling that fascinates me every time I watch (or read) it. While I have watched a decent amount (and read a not so decent amount), I have only the remotest of understandings of the many eras in which samurai culture was predominant, the tides of Japanese culture across those eras, the topography in which the samurai traverse, and meaningful understanding the social, political and economic structures as well as the deeper workings of the religious and samurai cultures of these stories tend to elude me time after time. It's not my history, it's not my culture, but it is something I'm almost always satisfied with spending time exploring.

This is all to say I'm going to have a tremendously difficult time really talking about The Samurai and the Prisoner, a new drama set in the late 1500's where much of Japan is in the midst of war. On one side is Lord Oda, who is barely seen in the picture at all, but his presence is felt almost constantly. He is a man to be feared, and his desire is nothing less than ruling the world.  On the other side is Lord Araki (Masahiro Motoki), who has banded a small collection of lords together to oppose Oda, with tenuous allegiances making a war council inside the impregnable walls of Arioka Castle (which Araki presides over having himself taken it with force as an ally of Oda).

Oda sends an envoy to Arioka Castle, Kanbei (Masaki Suda), who Araki tries to turn to his side, but he is rebuffed. Rather than let Kanbei return with a message, or killing him (which itself is a message), Araki imprisons Kanbei. Soon after there's a murder within the castle walls, a seemingly impossible mystery which Araki's closes advisors can't seem to make sense of.

At this early stage in the film, with this sweeping drama of politics and war in play, it seemed like the story was going to swing completely into a sort of police procedural/CSI-Samurai and I got pretty excited. So it was to my own minor disappointment that Araki turned to Kanbei's wisdom to tease out the solution, and suddenly there was an answer...sort of. In the next season there comes another mystery, and again the season after that, and so establishes a pattern within Arioka Castle between phenomenal events and its Lord seeking the counsel of the only man in his cells.

Running at almost 150 minutes, Kurosawa's incredibly patient-but-eventful film never ceases being interesting though it's hard at times to truly understand where it is going or why until well past the half-way point.

Eventually we come to understand that the protagonist of our film, Lord Araki, may be a merciful man, but his mercy is still a calculation, it's still strategy. He wishes for a world free of conflict, war and murder, but he's also a brilliant military tactician who can't stop thinking about the ways of war. He's haunted by senseless death, though well aware that sometimes one death can prevent many more.  His prisoner's life is spared, but Kanbei has no life in a prison cell except to serve Araki's requests, and the fate of his son, held by Oda to keep his loyalty in check, remains a torturous mystery for him.

The curious structure of the film told over the approximate span of a year, presents big events which lead to smaller events which lead to ripples barely noticed, but still felt by Araki. Every gambit or ploy Araki makes against Oda, or defends against, seems to result in just a little more chaos within Castle Arioka. Big waves to Araki are ripples to others, while little ripples eventually form into waves that cannot be ignored.  It's all connected in some way, but it feels both organized and chaotic...who can say. Kanbei? Maybe.

The world within Castle Arioka is so well realized and so intricately understood by its director that you feel like you could turn to practically anyone who passes by on screen and follow them as a fully fleshed out individual. Meanwhile, the world outside the walls feels vast and unknowable. All the reports we hear of Oda's machinations and manoeuvres, and the bending to his whims of other Lords, seem questionable...but there's no other choice except to trust it.

It's a well-composed film that only falters when it tries to go big. A battle scene seems lit by floodlights in an abandoned field with sneaker prints all over it, and feels starkly uncertain as a production compared to the assuredness of the remainder of the film.

It's a production that feels like it could do with some pruning, and perhaps its resolution isn't as satisfying (or unpredictable) as the remainder of the film, but it's time certainly well spent if this genre is at all in one's wheelhouse.

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T&K's XMas (2023) Advent Calendar: Day 4 - EXmas

2023, d. Jonah Feingold -- AmazonPrime(/Freevee?)

The Draw: 

It's Robbie Amell and Leighton Meester. The stars of classic aughts sci-fi The Tomorrow People and Surface in one movie? That was enough for me to give it an ogle. 

THEIRstory: 
Ali dumped her fiancee Graham six months ago. Having lost her parents young, she grew pretty attached to his family and, at Christmas, really misses them. So when Graham tells his parents he's got to work (a Christmas deadline to finish the new video game update) they call Ali up and invite her to Christmas in his place... not telling Graham, of course.  As one might expect, Graham hastily decides to return home two days before Christmas and definitely doesn't receive the warm welcome he thought he would, quickly learning the woman who broke his heart now has dibs on his childhood bedroom with his posters of Pamela Anderson and Wolverine.

Graham learns that Ali has been talking with his sister regularly since they broke up, and his younger brother has been getting help with his college math courses from her.  Graham definitely has as sense of his place in the family hierarchy, and it's just below the Baby Jesus in the manger scene at the front of the house. (There's a whole subplot about the baby Jesus keeps being stolen from the manger, and they have to keep replacing it that doesn't really have anything to do with anything)

Graham pulls Ali aside and they bicker, with each swearing to have the other kicked out the house before Christmas day. This involves Ali setting Graham up to flood the toilet, Graham setting Ali up to disappoint his parents on game night, and Graham literally getting Ali's goat by sticking feed in her pockets and letting the goat loose at his dad's used car lot Christmas party.  

Also at the party Graham's high school rival Brady starts hitting on Ali, while Graham's getting picked up by a random hottie. Brady is the #1 sales guy at Graham's dad's lot, and is a clear point of Brady's inferiority complex with the family. They all wind up at a bar together (Graham's sister and brother in tow) and it's awkward as the exes get pretty snippy. Ali's flirting with Brady is hilariously awful (she boops him on the nose at one point... when we see Ali when she's out of her element, we really get why she gets along with Graham's parents so much, they're all kind of dorks).  

On Christmas Eve Ali's doing all the Christmas baking and Graham learns that she's now a full-time baker, having quit accounting (she's such an accountant). Graham brings up the bake-truck that he was supposed to find for her when they were together, and it's clearly a touchy topic that she wants to avoid. Christmas eve dinner winds up with Brady and party hottie in attendance, and turns out Ali made the cookies with THC butter, getting everyone stoned, and Graham's sure his straight-laced mother will be outraged, but she's into it.  After accidentally spilling that his sister and her girlfriend split up, Graham leaves dinner with the hottie to a club, only to learn that hottie want him to join her and her male roommate in a three-way... which, no judgements, just isn't for him.  Meanwhile, Brady takes Ali "someplace special" which is the car lot, and he tries to sell her a car.

Graham gets home drunk and by default goes to his room instead of the couch and wakes Ali up. They bicker, argue, make out, have sex and sleep . Waking up together on Christmas day they kind of get a real conversation in, only to be interrupted by Graham's mom who gives some nice advice about partnerships. They go to church where they try to inappropriately continue the conversation much to the disgust of other parishioners. They open presents and Brady stops by, and they all go play hockey (which Brady beat Graham out as team captain in high school). But during play, dad has a heart attack. Graham saves his life with CPR.  He realizes that he's wasted so much time trying to work and build a life for himself and Ali (that she didn't actually ask for) that he's missed out on so much family, that clearly Ali has made time for. He apologizes (quits his job when his boss calls), and the two come to amicable terms. Ali agrees to leave and Graham wishes her to find only the best guy in her life.

The next morning, Dad is home, and Ali departs for the airport. Playing a board game, Graham realizes he can't let her go and there's some "race to the airport" shenanigans that never gets the family out of the driveway. Ali has returned on her own and the couple are reunited.  A postscript has them engaged again and living in LA and hosting Christmas. Graham is working freelance, and returns to surprise Ali with that food truck. There's a 2-years later post-postscript that is funny, but far-fetched.

The Formulae:

This isn't a Hallmarkie, so it doesn't exactly fit the formula, except... it's almost the same story as Hallmark's fun An Unexpected Christmas from 2021.

Unformulae: 
Sex, drugs, production values, no "local hires" playing tertiary characters, good comedy editing and performances.  Even the "Christmas deadline" that Graham has is pretty much a non-story.

True Calling? 
I honestly can't believe there hasn't been a movie called "EXmas" before [correction: there was "Merry Ex-mas" in 2014 with Dean Cain and Kristy Swanson, and two different "Merry Ex-Mas" films since]. I can't believe Hallmark just left that title sitting on the table and went with "An Unexpected Christmas" instead. Foolish.

The Rewind: 
Very early in the film, after Graham gets exhausted with talking with his parents and basically hangs up on them, the TV starts playing an ad for a drug (so it's a parody of usual drug commercials in the US where they have to be all cagey and vague about what it's for), and Graham's screaming at the TV (the ad read saying "Tired? Stressed? Single?"): "What is this ad for? Who is this ad for? Who made this!?" and I had to rewind twice to get the name of the drug.

It's called "Alileftamane"...and it's only now that I write it down I even get the actual joke of it being close to "Ali left me" (or "Ali left a man"?). Amell's line reading is hilarious on its own, but I like it even more with the silly, relevant drug name.

The Regulars: 
Hottie Donna Benedicto (her character's name is "Jess" apparently) has been in a few non-Hallmark non-holiday Hallmarkies, and even one holiday actual Hallmark produciton. I know here from a recurring role as a DEO agent on Supergirl.

Leighton Meester's haircut is "the Danica McKellar", so that counts as a regular too.

No other Hallmarkie regulars, but I love this cast. While the script is only marginally punched up from a regular Hallmark movie, the cast delivers in a way that your typical Hallmark cast cannot, if for lack of talent, experience, or time and budget to do enough takes to get it right.

Amell is really, really great, hitting every comedic beat just right and even creating a few of his own. Meester delivers a subtle, goofy performance that your typical Hallmark actress would send into over-the-top, try-too-hard quirk.
Mom is played by Canadian comedy mainstay Kathryn Greenwood and dad is played by Michael Hitchcock, best known as one of Christopher Guest's repertory players, so there's a lot of comedy history and character acting under their belts.  
I think my favourite, though, is Veronica Slowikowska as Mindy, Graham's sister. She doesn't have a huge amount to do in this film but she makes her presence known in every scene she's in. She's like Carrie Coon in Gone Girl (the gold standard of sister side-characters in film) or Maria Bakalova in Borat Subsequent Moviefilm... just stealing focus (in a good way) every time she's on screen. She doesn't have a huge resume, and I've only seen her before on What We Do In The Shadows in a recurring role, but were this film not basically buried on Amazon she should really break out.

How does it Hallmark? 
I really did quite enjoy Hallmark's An Unexpected Christmas but that was still a Hallmark movie, with all the Hallmark-like things that ultimately drag it down to a Hallmark level. This is a movie, with real production values, good looking camera work, well timed editing, good lighting, music that doesn't sound like one guy trapped in a soundbooth with a synth keyboard for 4 hours...and on and on. In other words, it's got some money in it.

How does it movie? 
As a movie, this is oddly a level above direct-to-video, but a level below theatrical release. It's obviously a direct-to-streaming film and that seems about right. It's charming, with a very likeable cast, a lot of laughs, but I think what drops it down from being great is how forced some of the comedic scenarios seem...like the toilet flood or the ice fishing hut.  Even the stolen baby Jesus subplot is kind of go nowhere (in a Hallmark film it would be mercifully welcome irreverence...in a proper studio comedy it needs to be something a little more).  

There's "elevated horror" can we coin the term "elevated Hallmark"?

Strangest thing about this is it's a product of "Buzzfeed Studios".

I don't think this will be one I want to watch all the time (it's no Holidate, but then, nothing is), but if it's on, I wouldn't turn it off.

How Does It Snow? 
I presume this was shot in Vancouver, and it looks to be early spring or so. The snow is fake and some kind of batting or whatever, but the good stuff.  They dirty up the batting to make it look like it's snow that's melted and been around a while, and they don't hold back on the spread.  They got a good batting budget.

It does not look like Christmas in Minnesota out there (nobody is ever dressed for Minnesota winter), though. Christmas in Seattle maybe.  All the greenery we see, though, is not summertime foliage, it's evergreens. The other trees and things (if we see any) are bare or brown.  The ground is always wet looking, like the snow has been melting, which, again, gives this a very northern west-coast vibe (if not a beginning of March vibe).

KWIF: Rye Lane (+5)

 Kent's Week in Film is this: each week (or so) I have a spotlight movie which I write a longer, thinkier piece about, and then whatever else I watched that week I do a quick little summary of my thoughts... just to speed things along.

Rye Lane (2023, d. Raine Allen-Miller - Disney+/Hulu)
Serendipity (2001, d. Peter Chelsom - AmazonPrime)
Grosse Pointe Blank (1997, d. George Armitage - Disney+)
Men In Black (1997, d. Barry Sonnenfeld - Netflix)
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984, d. Wes Craven - Bluray)
Phantom of the Paradise (1974, d. Brian De Palma - Bluray)

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Maybe it's just the circles I'm running in -- and by that I mean the podcasts I'm listening to (I'm a middle-aged parent with pets and a mortgage...there are no "circles") -- but romcoms don't have the stink on them they once used to.  Once upon a time these were a major part of the derisively labelled "chick flicks" subgenre (the derision of which is directed towards both the film and its intended audience), movies tailored for women with an formulaic and manipulative emotional core. 

During my formative years they were the domain of your Meg Ryans, Julia Robertses, Drew Barrymores and Andie MacDowells, then later your Sandra Bullocks, Reese Witherspoons, Kate Hudsons and Katherine Heigls... all names that were warning signs for stereotypical boyfriends to just stay away.  The beats of meet-cute -> emotional investment -> complication -> romantic reunion are so eye-rollingly by-the-numbers that it was, from teenage/20-something swm eyes, easy to see one romcom as completely interchangeable with any other.  

Like any genre or subgenre, there is going to be the tired, regurgitated pablum that the studios know they can crank out and make money on without even really thinking too hard about it, but there is also going to be the fresh and inventive filmmakers who either want to play within the genre, explore a very specific theme or idea, or bring people or cultures into the genre that are different than the pale-faced American (or sometimes British or Australian or Canadian) blondes and brunettes presented as the standard leads.

Rye Lane is a film that wants to do all three, and does so without making. a. point. of. it. Here we have a comedy about two Black, Gen Z Londoners who meet cute, have an ever-more-involving day together, face a complication, and get over it, because they can't get over each other. It's a film that doesn't break the mold, but it does re-shape it and re-form it into the image and style and story it wants to present.

From the opening moments of the film, an overhead panning shot of public toilet stalls, each, in the scant seconds they're on screen, telling their own micro-story, both in the radically different toilet-stall-environment it presents and in the actions of the people inhabiting them.  It comes to stop on Des (David Jonsson), who is uncontrollably sobbing in a way that captures both the pathos of his pain, but also the comedic beats of his broadly melodramatic display. In the next stall sits Yas (Vivian Oparah) who is at once worried, curious and bemused by her neighbour. They have a brief exchange (Des is covering up, Yas is being quite Pithy) before Yas leaves Des to himself, but not before catching a peek of his pink Converse sneakers.

External to this is the art show of Des and Yas' mutual friend, an art show that is exclusively intense close-ups of mouths (teeth and tongues).  It's an utterly pretentious, and simultaneously powerful display. I was about to get all arty farty, talking about how judgements and pre-judgements can be made based off the shape of teeth, or the pose of the lips, or the emotions that are conveyed or misconstrued.  The film, and its characters, understand that the art is absurd and yet it also understands that there's definitely ambition and merit to it.  Des and Yas meet proper over gently ribbing their friend's work, a light, whimsical, mutually satisfying conversation for them both that carries on outside the gallery. 

Des, the accountant, is reserved, but not uptight. Yas, the aspiring costume designer, is very forward and immediately familiar in a disarmingly pleasant way. After a few charmingly awkward instances of saying goodbye, only to realize they're both going the same way, Yas breaks down Des' guard in a matter of seconds and learns about the relationship that ended months earlier that still has Des distraught and heartbroken.  Yas has an easy way about her that start helping Des reframe the relationship he's still pining over, which involved his girlfriend of six years cheating on him with his best friend.  They make it a few blocks of very sharing, very charming conversation, before Des admits he's on his way to meet with them, "to clear the air".  Yas offers to come with, Des declines, but Yas turns up anyway, and the two continue on their way together, sharing back-and-forth, getting into mild adventures that are hilarious both in their low-stakes scenarios and the people that they meet. 

If we have such a thing as "elevated horror" then perhaps we need "elevated romcom" because this certainly is that. Director Raine Allen-Miller could have just done the Linklater walk-and-talk of Before Sunrise, capturing to attractive people clearly vibing, something definitely happening between them, and putting them in a surrounding worth exploring visually behind and around them.  But rather than just keep it so simple, Allen-Miller employs an immensely fun and fresh flashback technique that brings the people in conversation into the flashback as observers.  You can bet this is going to be a new romcom trope.  But the settings of Rye Lane, Brixton and these other kind of post-hipster boroughs of London the film explores we don't usually see on film with this sort of love and attention paid to them.  They're not the pretty tourist parts.  They're under-the-bridge shops and the odd alley flats and the like all captured with such wonder and reverie.  The colour sense of the film is very, very lush and warm, like the characters are being hugged by their surroundings, like it loves them as much as they love it (and just like the growing love between Yas and Des, it's all unsaid).

The use of fish eye lens (the only real complaint I hear about the film is the employment of the fish-eye), serves a dual purpose: to present more of the cityscape in a broader perspective to the viewer, as well as give the sense that the city is watching these characters, as if its taken a particular interest in them and what's happening...like this is a meet-cute worth watching.  And it is.

The fun subtext is about art and both its pretension and its power and how it can bring people together.  It's an art show that starts the film, and an art show that closes the film. Yas' ex-boyfriend as well is an artist and, in a respect, as a costume designer, so is she. It's not coincidence... it's clearly a "world" that Allen-Miller is familiar with and finds both alluring and amusing. The ending's art show is particularly preposterous parade of posteriors in portrait, yet palpably potent as a portfolio. I thought it was amazing.

I laughed a lot with this movie and it took mere moments for me to start shipping these two. Jonsson has such an easy demeanor about him that he can shift ever so slightly into anxiousness or charm.  Oparah has the gift of gab (and oh, I melted when she rapped) but she's also got the allure of something deeper just bubbling under the forthright, jokey surface. Their chemistry was a warm smoulder that just felt good and comfortable and was an absolute joy to be around.  It's got to be a top 10, maybe even top 5 all-timer romcom for me.

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If you had asked me two weeks ago for a list of my favourite romcoms, Serendipity would have been, at worst, an honourable mention, if not a top tenner.  I had a very potent reaction to it back in 2001 when I saw it in the theatre. Solo, I might add, which speaks to my frame of mind at the time.

High Fidelity was a landmark movie for me as a lovelorn nerd who loves to rearrange his collections, and Cusack went good actor to my avatar on screen. I went back and did or redid tours with Say Anything, and Better Off Dead, and The Grifters, and Grosse Pointe Blank, and Being John Malkovich which just solidified that for me (at the time). So  Serendipity, as Cusack's next big romantic follow-up, was an absolute must, to the point of going to see it, a flat-out, no-foolin' romance...on the big screen...all by myself. And I loved it, deeply. The story of a couple Cusack and Kate Beckinsale, each in a relationship, who meet cute trying to buy the same last pair of gloves for their partners at Christmas and then hit it off.  Except she believes in serendipity so if they are meant to be together then they will find each other again. She puts her name in her copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, which she promises to sell immediately, and he writes his name on a fiver that she then goes off and purchases some breath mints with. It's foolish, and left in the hands of fate, as other signs of disconnect start coming between this seemingly once-in-a-lifetime connection.  

It's, like 7 years later (no shit), and Cusack is an New York-based ESPN producer engaged to Sex in the City's Bridget Moynahan.  Beckinsale is a therapist in San Francisco who is engaged to the culturally appropriative, shanai-playing John Corbett from Sex in the City. While both seem fairly comfortably engaged, they both, very much, are still looking...looking for that Cholera book, or that five dollar bill. If they're in such happy relationships, then why are they looking, especially after so much time has passed (too much time, in fact, it's pretty unhealthy).

The serendipity of Serendipity has their paths crossing but moments too late, but it builds itself two spirals that are bound to meet at the end, so their spiralling paths just gets closer and closer. I kind of love it as a plot contrivance, but as a romcom, it fails in the romance department by keeping the two leads apart for pretty much all of the film.  

I think Cusack just startes to enter the sleepwalking-through-the-role/cut-me-a-paycheck mode with this film. He has a natural smarminess to him that he has been very good at hiding in his best roles, but is constantly seeping through the cracks here. The effort to turn on the charm is put in, but not nearly with the same amount of energy or force needed to sell this plot 100%.  He's at like 85% at best. Beckinsale here is a bit flighty which seems contrary to her usual nature, and the amount of emphasis she puts onto her supernatural belief systems tampers her attractiveness (but that's my male perspective, it might be something more relatable to many women?). 

I realize upon rewatching it that it's not a great romcom, and would no longer make the top ten, or even the honourable mentions for this very fact. But, I also recognize what it was about it that resonated so strongly with me, which is that it's a "you've got to break up with your fiancee" movie, and a pretty good one at that.  When the film came out, I was a little over a year past having broken off an engagement, so this film which continually asks the question "should I go through with it?" really, powerfully resonated with me. In film, ultimately the characters understand that their pining for someone they only knew for a few hours is just part of an escape plan, and it validates those feelings that they're actively denying, that something isn't right. It's still a better film than it has any right to be, even though it's not a great film. I still connect with it, except, now that I've been happily married for over 15 years(!), my connection to the material is not even close to as strong as it was over 20 years ago.

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What still holds up, mostly, is one of, if not the ultimate guys' romantic comedy. It's a romcom about a hitman returning to his high school reunion so he can face his ex-sweetie from a decade earlier and maybe see if something's still there.  The only problem is, the job, and his competition, keep getting in the way.

I've seen this film many, many times, and, while it's been a while since the last, it still holds up as a tremendously entertaining movie.  Cusack plays Martin Blank as a man with "flexable morals" and the film seems to wrestle with Martin's profession much more than he does, while still retaining a comedic tone. But the chemistry between Martin and Minnie Driver's local Michigan radio DJ Debi is electric from the first time they lay eyes upon each other. Martin, given his profession, is bold and straightforward in approaching her, and Debi is direly curious, attracted and aggressively forward.

Cusack's doing great work here, as he's confronting the past he abruptly left behind 10 years ago (joined the army, did some stuff, went independent, kills people for money...it's a growth industry), meeting old friends, old loves, old nemeses, and his mentally unwell mother. It's not easy for him and Cusack manages each of these scenes with incredible delicacy and precise responses (he co-wrote the script, so he is fully invested in Martin Blank).  But in that romance, it's Debi we're behind. We know Martin's bad news for her, even though he's not really hiding anything. They are deliciously cute together and they have to keep wiping the lens down from all the steam they're giving off, but in spite of all of it, I don't really want Debi to wind up with him, and she seems smart enough not to wind up with him, especially once she learns he wasn't joking about his job (and Driver's reaction is so painful to watch...devastation on screen).

The story does have a maybe too clever (but it has to be right) ace up its sleeve in getting this crazy couple back together, and it's a fully understated, but incredible and frequently funny action sequence oddly enough.  It dials it in to the perfect degree, not going too huge, and making so much of it feel relevant, not just mindless action. It still doesn't redeem Martin in my eyes as good enough for Debi, but I can see how it thinks so.  

I think Grosse Pointe Blank is a great precursor to HBO's Barry, but where Barry is an emotionally troubled sociopath, Martin is the lead of a very odd romcom, so he gets to overcome his demons, where Barry cannot.

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One of my podcasts was covering the Men In Black series and I realized that I've probably only seen the first two films and that I don't have much fondness for them.  A key indicator of this is that I never bought MIB on DVD and between '98 and 2002 I was buying pretty much any film I liked or thought I would like or thought I would want to rewatch.   

So, with a free evening and no agenda, I just put this on.  You know what, it's fine. It's better than fine, it's actually good. Will Smith doing his Will Smith thing at the height of his Will-Smith-thing powers. Tommy Lee Jones, remarkably having just crested 50-years-old at the time of shooting, is doing his full-on cantankerous Tommy Lee Jones thing to its comedic apex.  The practical effects by master FX artist Rick Baker are all on point, at a time just before CGI would start taking over seemingly every and any effects need. The creatures are wild, tangible and masterfully done, without the CGI spit-polish. Danny Elfman drops a score that maybe isn't as iconic as some of his other works, but it stands the test of time, and also distinguished (Elfman can get a little same-y, but he can also pull out scores that sound a part of his ouvre without seeming like riffs off earlier work). Sonnenfeld's sensibilities, his affection for simultaneous darkness and whimsey, are perfect for the film, he leaves on a layer of New York grime that the later films scrub and polish away. 

The MVP of the film is Vincent D'Onofrio as "Edgar", who starts the film as an abusive white trash husband but is immediately killed by an invading alien species who uses his skin as a suit as a disguise for his mission on earth. It's an absolutely gonzo performance which D'Onofrio commits to fully, with hilarious physicality and a verbal slur that is only accentuated by his perfect "skin suit" makeup job (but D'Onofrio is so good he probably could have pulled off the role without the make-up).

In rewatching the film, I'm still somehow not sucked into the universe of MIB. I wasn't eager to continue with the franchise. I know what else is out there isn't what I wanted. The setup for MIB 2 was Smith's Agent J partnered with Linda Fiorentino's newly recruited Agent L. But Fiorentino, a notorious personality on set, wasn't wanted for the sequel and so the sequel began to rehash the Agent J & K dynamic. Which the third one did as well. I just don't care. And my lack of interest in the sequels also kind of hampers my investment in the original. I attempted to rewatch the miserable Men in Black 2 but I cut it off in less than 10 minutes because it was godawful.

Men In Black as a franchise is similar to Ghostbusters, in that the first film was lightning in a bottle with a sense of magic its sequels couldn't replicate (but that their cartoon spin-offs, by not trying to be in continuity with the film, managed to be the better supplement).

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Even more so than Men in Black, I have very limited experience with the Elm Street franchise, but I would hazard a guess that Elm Street, and Freddy Krueger specifically, penetrated pop culture much more deeply and even though I've never seen a Nightmare film, I feel somehow very familiar with Freddy.

Part of that is thanks to Will Smith, who, back in his pre-TV rapping Fresh Prince days he did a song "A nightmare on my street".  Around the same time, the Fat Boys also had an Elm Street song tie-in, and my pre-teen brain couldn't handle it.  These goofy songs still freaked me out.  I also remember a school mate on the bus showing me a copy of Fangoria magazine (or some similar horror-themed rag) which was highlighting one of the Elm Street film's gross effects, and that image...well, it still hasn't fully left me.  Something like Freddy in a tux serving someone their own entrails maybe...its a bit blurry this picture now.

So even though I watched all manner of horror pictures these days (not devotedly, but with little of the trepidation like I once had) I still hadn't watched any Nightmare pictures (except maybe Wes Craven's A New Nightmare, but I may be confusing it with Scream 3)

My thoughts on my first watching of the original, classic, 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street. It's fine. Bordering on good. The acting its weakest element, ranging from passable to godawful (but in the end I kind of liked Ronee Blakely's terrible acting as the soused mom with the sincerest of ironic appreciation).  Heather Lagencamp's heroic Nancy is a total mess of a character, and I really wish Craven had thought more about how to play stylistically with her delusional lack of sleep.  This could have been a real head trip of a movie if it wanted to be.  As is it's a competently made production that no doubt troubled many a teen in the 1980s, but I know Freddy become much more playful in later films, and the series goes for bigger, more inventive kills. I'm kind of looking forward to watching those, because Craven seemed to be holding back on both here.  

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In the Serendipity write-up above, I mention having broken off my engagement, my first serious relationship. To be blunt, it was a juvenile relationship, one that saw two partners who couldn't communicate honestly with each other. There was so much wrong with that relationship that it's hard to see what was ever right about it. My takeaway, though, was a better sense of what I wanted (and didn't want) in a relationship, and what I wanted out of myself. I also gained an appreciation for musicals, ska, and Brian De Palma's 1974 masterpiece Phantom of the Paradise (...masterpiece? Really? You know what, yeah, masterpiece. Full stop.)

I don't recall how I watched the film originally, whether it was on VHS or DVD, but it was a film my partner of the time really loved. Now, it's kind of a terrible admission, but I felt my partner at that time had really bad taste in most everything, and I generally bristled against what they liked and loved, much preferring the things I liked and discovered (as I said, it was a very immature relationship). But I would humour her, and watch her shows and movies, and listen to her musics, but at the same time rather than being open-minded, I was kind of resentful, and actively resisted trying to like these things. I would, however, feign appreciation with a slight nod, or an high-voiced "yeah, it's not bad" to maintain the peace.

Phantom, though was something else entirely, something that didn't fit her image and the kind of baseline tastes. I didn't get it at first, because I was so resistant, but it was something I went back to after we broke up. A couple of times. It was something I really couldn't get out of my head. 

I've recently been on a kick of acquiring physical media again (heavy suspicion that once the streaming wars end, it's going to make a lot of things scarce) and seeing the recent Scream Factory blu-ray of Phantom of the Paradise was a no-hesitation must-purchase.  The opening sequence, crisp blacks, popping colours, as the doo-wop lip sync rehearsal of "Goodbye, Eddie, Goodbye" (the first of many original, and diverse tracks written by Paul Williams, who also co-stars) plays...my pupils dilated and I sunk deeply into my seat, just ready to receive this film (sharing it with a friend who had never seen it before).

It's not an easy movie to describe. It's a horror-musical-satire about the music industry that blends the stories of Faust, Phantom of the Opera and even a little of Dorian Gray with the sensibilities of Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange, taking its lead character through a gruelling journey of identity.

The film has an astounding number of exceptionally well-composed scenes, just some flat-out striking imagery, chief among them an amazing split screen, De Palma-specialty, that is just ...radical.  The imagery extends beyond just compositions, set pieces, and sets to costumes like Phantom's sleek black leathers and iconic, absurdly bird-like steel mask (and teeth) and Death Records' amazing dead raven logo. Paul Williams as a world-famous music producer, Swan, who strikes bargains in blood with his subjects is, despite his stature, appropriately intimidating and unsettling (it's all in how little he seems affected by happening around him). Jessica Harper plays the chanteuse that the Phantom has affection for (but not for anything sexual, it's her voice that can service his music that he wants) and Swan basically steals to mess with him. 

It's a film unlike any other, an extremely dark rock opera, but with a levity that reveals itself more and more upon repeat viewings. It's a very playful film that warps itself in disarmingly unexpected ways. It won't be to everyone's tastes, but it's a film that rewards repeated attention.

3 Short Paragraphs: The F Word

2013, Michael Dowse (Goon, It's All Gone Pete Tong) -- cinema

Otherwise known as What If in the rest of the world, the Canadian title of the movie says everything you need to know. No, its not about swearing, its an affable movie about being relegated to the friendzone and the troubles and responsibilities that come with that. To the average nice guy, this is the worst thing that can happen -- meet a nice girl, fall for her but hear those dastardly words, "Can we just be friends?" But being friendzoned comes with negative connotations, a sort of responsibility laid at the feet of the female side of the relationship, and this movie wants to sidestep this. The movie is about unrequited love, not sexual politics. For the most part.

Wallace (Daniel Radcliffe) is a med school dropout, living with his sister and heartbroken about his ex. He runs into Chantry (Zoe Kazan) at a house party and the two click, in that snarky pop culture conversation sort of way. Part of me wants to rewatch some old youth movies to see if people talked this way in the pre-Buffy days. Clever, relevant and oh so intelligent, Chantry is the first woman to make Wallace think about someone other than his ex. And then she mentions her BF. But they shake hands and agree to be friends.  Allan (Adam Driver) thinks Wallace is being stupid, hiding his feelings for the sake of the gentlemanly friendship. Wallace is conflicted. But they are good as friends.

The first act of the movie is all short choppy walking scenes, that gives the watcher a tour of the cool spots in Toronto. Wallace and Chantry, Wallace and Allan, Wallace and his sister, Chantry and her sister, Chantry and her friends. There is some weird slapstick comedy and a few out of place, otherworldly scenes of animation come to life. I felt things were far too heavy handed on the quips and clips, but it did lead eventually into the actual turmoil of the movie -- how the two do not deal with the growing mutual feelings between them. There is real emotion bubbling to the surface tangled in real life decisions as the BF moves to Ireland for work and Chantry is offered animation work in Taiwan. When it all comes together the two have to dispense with the charming dialogue and just talk to each other about how they feel. There is plenty of time for charming dialogue after they get together, and sit on a roof watching the stars.

3+1 Short Paragraphs: Begin Again

2014, John Carny (Once) -- cinema

Once, someone at work saw me twiddling my fingers, tapping to the music on my headphones and asked me if I was a musician. No, was my answer, not at all. But I do spend an awful lot of time, when I am listening to it, fantasizing that its me performing the music. I always have, always will. But if I was a musician, I would definitely be the type who did it for the love, not the fame. I wouldn't mind busking, or endless performances at open mics, during singer songwriter night. Its easy to maintain your objectivity when its a fantasy.

Begin Again starts at a NYC open mic night. Steve (James Corden, from "The Lodger" episode of Doctor Who) the troubadour invites his friend Gretta (Keira Knightly) up on the stage to perform a song. She is angry at being put on the spot but gives in, and sings a mournful heartbreak song about being along in the city. The crowd... barely listens. But amidst the anonymous audience stands goofy looking, drunken Dan (Mark Ruffalo) absolutely enraptured by the music. Dan is a music producer, very out of sorts from personal issues, and drinking himself into the ground. He is losing his job, his company, his wife and his daughter's respect. But hearing Gretta sing sets him on another path.

Gretta is dating Dave (Adam Levine, who plays a dick quite masterfully; me bethinks it comes natural), who is becoming famous for a song he has in a movie. He dumps Gretta. She moves in with Steve and is in a major funk when Dan hears her play. He convinces her to produce an album despite her disliking everything about the music industry. She may be a bit biased at that exact moment of her life. But they compromise and produce an album out in the world, in various public places with free musicians, a laptop recording studio and a keen eye, to escape from the cops, should they need to run. The album is exactly and only what Gretta wants, along with the skillful tutelage of Dan. The music is exquisitely beautiful. It helps Gretta get over Dave. It helps Dan gain back self respect and his family.

This movie is a lovely fantasy, a day dream of flipping the bird to music producers, of making music you love for the sake of it. The songs are astoundingly all sung by Keira, and exactly down my finger tapping alley. The story is sweet and lovely, like the songs, with just the right amount of bitterness and pain, again like the songs. I was so happy to fall away from reality, slip into a daydream not unlike my own. And I probably have a new album to download (I mean buy) soon. But it wasn't all saccharine songs. Ruffalo was wonderful as Dan, a vision that not all sad sacks my age are destined to always be sad sacks. Keira is ... well, sweet and beautiful as usual (yes, i am biased) but it is the supporting cast that drive everything home, from Hailee Steinfeld (Petra from Ender's Game) as his daughter, Catherine Keener as his tired looking wife, carrying a heavy burden, and Mos Def as Dan's old partners. Like the back up musicians that make a solo artists music reach out, I love the tempo of this cast. Note for note perfect.

3 Short Paragraphs: Drinking Buddies

2013, Joe Swanberg (V/H/S) -- Netflix

I admit it, the reason this movie caught my attention was that it focused on people working at a craft brewery. I like craft beer, as anyone who knows me already knows. But it wasn't that. It was because this was a slice of life movie that I could possibly have some connection to, even if it was just the tenuous connection to enjoying a tasty beer. But is the movie really about beer? No, not really. Its about relationships, as I said, a slice of the life of a couple of people connected by where they work and what they enjoy.

Kate (Olivia Wilde; startlingly attractive in this jeans & tshirt role) and Luke (Jake Johnson; all 'hipster' beardy and not New Girl at all) are work friends who are obviously attracted to each other. But neither has said it out loud and both are already in relationships. He is on his way to being married to a girl (Anna Kendrick) he seems to be straining to be compatible with and she is dating a music producer (Ron Livingston), but it seems a placeholder relationship.  They (all four) make the mistake of spending a weekend at a cottage together and that only highlights exactly how compatible Kate and Luke are. It also just ends up straining the friendship(s) when it comes this close to being said out loud.

This is a throwback (not thursday) indie style movie I would have really really enjoyed in the 90s, when I was actually closer to their age. The locations are atypical, the people familiar (change a few lines and this is Toronto) and the dialogue is improvised -- the actors were allowed to build their characters out as they saw fit. The improvisation shows, sometimes annoyingly so, but most often it just works.  As for the beer, it played a part in all of their lives and probably contributed to the uninhibited emotional reactions that flared in key scenes. But considering that American movie & TV culture currently almost always has a character with a whisky or martini in their hands, it was nice to see it replaced with a pint of dark ale.

P.S. Despite the tag on the poster, not a comedy. And I am rather annoyed they shaved Jake Johnson so you would recognize him. It really changes the character's look.

Three Short Paragraphs: Mud

2012, Jeff Nichols (Take Shelter) -- download

Since we are in a Matthew McConaughey mood (see the last piece in Graig's recent I Saw This!!) I thought I would reach back to this one, before it actually falls into the domain of said piece. If you have seen anything of McConaughey since the TIFF this summer past, you are aware of his great weight loss for a role in Dallas Buyers Club. It is apparent that he began that path during the production of this movie, for the once buff surfer dude (i know, i know, from Texas but he always had that vibe around him) body is beginning to wither away. It fits this role, as a criminal on the run, hiding on an island in the river, being fed canned beans by a pair of boys who found him. Hopefully he can recover the weight healthily.

The structure of this movie is a coming-of-age story in rural America. It has the slow feel of showcasing the environment the boys are growing up in, as much as telling a story. It has been a long while since I enjoyed such style and I wish I had been absorbed more. I wanted to smell the turgid water of the river, feel the itch of the mosquitoes being slapped away and wipe away the sweat of the summer heat. Instead we get to understand Ellis and Neckbone and their fascination for the man on the run, Mud.

Ellis is at hard stage in teenage life, wanting to extend his natural confidence to dating but not knowing the social structures. And he is going through the surprisingly tempered breakup of his family. His parents have difficulties and are both rough, rural folk, but both love Ellis and it shows. But the effect pushes Ellis towards the drama in Mud's life. Mud is a man apparently full of wisdom and experience, but really not much more than the messed up kid Ellis has the potential of becoming. It is all around love. Obsessive everlasting love, damn all circumstances, like Mud and fading melancholy love, as between his parents. And of course, first love. No coming of age story is there without first love.

Catching Up: Comedy!(?) by Comedians!(?)

Shakes the Clown (1991, Bobcat Goldthwait) - netflix
Sleeping Dogs Lie (aka "Stay"? 2006, Bobcat Goldthwait) - netflix
Let's Go To Prison (2006, Bob Odenkirk) - netflix
Jeff, Who Lives At Home (2012, Mark and Jay Duplass) - netflix
Sleepwalk With Me (2012, Mike Birbiglia) - netflix

I had originally planned to sit down and watch all four of Bobcat Goldthwait's films, which would also include World's Greatest Dad and God Bless America, but the latter hasn't shown up on Netflix yet to complete the non-quadrology and I kind of got side-tracked.  It's definitely not that I disliked Goldthwait's films, because I enjoyed them, or, at the very least, found them enjoyably curious.  I should note here that there is a clear distinction in storytelling and maturity between the two films, obviously 15 years does a lot to change a man's perspective.  I've heard that the two films of his I haven't seen are more consistent in tone with Sleeping Dogs Lie, which was pretty emotionally heavy for a comedy, and I don't cotton to investing that much emotion in my entertainment, given my regular emotional fatigue by end of day.  But I'll get to them both at some point.  Because, as I said, Goldthwait, if not making great films, is making interesting films.


Shakes The Clown is kind of infamous to me, as it got name checked quite explicitly by Kevin Smith as an influence on him for Clerks, and I was downright obsessed with Clerks and Smith for about a decade or so.  Shakes was sold by Smith as a provocative, sometimes filthy, nasty bit of filmmaking (or that was my impression of how he sold it) so I shied away from it for this long.  Imagine my surprise to find that the film itself isn't all that provocative, or filthy-nasty, but the character of Shakes, played by Goldthwait kind of is.

The film is a cult favourite, and I can see why.  The world of Shakes the Clown is unlike any other, one where it seems like half the population are clown school graduates or drop outs, or worse, Rodeo clowns.  They're revered and despised in equal measure, like a race of humans all their own.  Goldthwait seeds in a lot of racially-inspired elements to the script, without actually ever trying to make a commentary on race or racial issues, which is kind of inspired.

The main thrust of the feature is that Shakes thinks he should be the biggest clown in town, hosting the local cable clown show on TV, and the truth of the matter is Shakes is the best clown in town, when he's sober.  But since Shakes has his demons, his chief nemesis, Binky, steals his thunder, and conspires to keep him down.

It's an off-beat, oddly-paced but inspired bit of storytelling, with fun performances from some of Goldthwate's comedy contemporaries like a more than palatable Adam Sandler, Robin Williams, Julie Brown and future Spongebob Tom Kenny.  Bobcat's direction does what it needs to do, totally servicing the plot and never getting in the way.  He actively avoids the obvious jokes, almost fighting against the comedy, keeping it almost in the vein of a hardboiled suspense drama, but most definitely not.


15 years later, Sleeping Dogs Lie finds Goldthwait exploring a provocative little nugget to its fullest dramatic extent, where it could very quickly have veered into gross-out comedy territory.  It's spoiling nothing to say that the film centers around Amy (in a wonderfully understated comedic performance from Melinda Page Hamilton) who, in a fit of boredom or some other off-kilter sense of whimsy, orally pleasured her dog in college.

The conceit right there is more than enough to turn most people off from this film, but that reaction is the exact thing the film itself explores.  Amy's quite ashamed of this decidedly socially-unacceptable thing she did, and it colors almost her entire waking existence.  It's a disgusting secret that festers in the back recesses of her brain, something she knows she can't trust with anyone.  But she's in a committed relationship with John, about to take the next step into marriage, and she's debating whether she should be totally honest with him or if it will drive him away (or if not being honest will drive him away).

Goldthwait expertly builds up this tension in the first act, as Amy musters up the will to tell John, in as much as the couple drive up to visit Amy's highly conservative parents to tell them the news of their engagement, and are still forced to sleep in separate bedrooms.  John is forced to bunk with Amy's brother Dougie, a die-hard stoner and terminally unemployed, prone to playing experimental musinc on his keyboard at 3am.  Whilst having a rendez-vous in the garage, Amy finally concedes to telling John her secret, unaware that Dougie was in the rafters.  It explodes from there into some of the most intense drama as Amy's life atomizes before her.  The air is out of the canister and there's no way to force it back in.

The second act is all fallout, while the third act is a quasi-romantic comedy that deals with Amy's new relationship, her severed familial ties, and reflecting upon the lessons she's learned about the power of an idea.  While it's not the best looking movie (it's quite cheap looking in many respects) and Goldthwait's direction rarely extends beyond serviceable, the story itself, once you get past the set-up is a rich exploration of human emotions, falling heavily into the dramatic reflection thereof, but is otherwise balanced with a lighter touch.  I quite admired Goldthwait's focus on the human side of things, rather than strictly looking for comic moments.  (And it has one of my favourite Brian Posehn appearances ever, as one of Dougies stoner friends).

While Sleeping Dogs Lie had a solid critical reputation preceding it, Let's Go To Prison is universally panned.  I remember when it came out in theatres back in '06, I was keen, after all here was a movie from Bob Odenkirk (I loved Mr. Show) and starring Will Arnett (I was deep into my Arrested Development obsession at that point), but, again, it was getting terrible reviews and it barely lasted 2 weeks in theatres, even in Toronto.  I was fine to let it drop.

Recently, while listening to one of the many comedy-centric podcasts (probably WTF or Nerdist, or perhaps Sklarbro Country) I heard Thomas Lennon (a veteran of cult comedy like the State and Reno 911, as well as a frequent podcast guest) promoting his new book (with writing partner Robert Ben Garant) "Writing Movies For Fun and Profit" in which he details how to get a script made in Hollywood (throw your ideals and your artistic morals out the window, be willing to do whatever the studios ask, and follow the paycheques).  Having written junky but popular fare like the Night at the Museum, they know what they're talking about, but Lennon mentioned when they first started they had a script they loved, and everyone who read it loved it, but nobody wanted to make it.  That film was Let's Go To Prison, which obviously did get made, and probably shouldn't have.

The film stars Arnett as a wealthy trust fund kid, never having any responsibility in his life, and no respect for anyone.  Dax Sheperd is a career criminal, having been practically raised in the prison system, put before a Judge who saw him as the worst in humanity and an example to set for society.  The judge was Arnett's father, and in his most recent release from prison, Sheperd would finally have his long-thought-out, much-planned revenge on the man who destroyed his life.  Only problem is the Judge died in the intervening years. So he picks Arnett as the subject of revenge, sets him up for a fall which takes him to prison.  But Sheperd can't just let him go and be left to the system, he has to see Arnett fall, if not partake in it further.  So he basically commits a crime, gets caught, pleads guilty and sends himself back.

As I think about the set up, on paper and in premise, I could see the grounds for comedy.  But where it goes from there, straight to lockup, it's far too dark and far too depressing to be funny.  Lennon and Garant's script, Odenkirk's direction, the actors involved all try to make rape jokes and toilet wine and vicious beat downs and shankings and intense racism and human suffering funny, and poking around only one of those bitter subject could you probably find a vein to mine, but altogether it's just way too much.  Only Chi McBride as Arnett's woo-ing rapist manages to evoke any laughter in the entirety of the film.  McBride is a comedy secret weapon.  He's not generally know for his comedic work, but here, and in Odenkirk's other disrespected (but far, far funnier) The Brothers Solomon, McBride is the hands down highlight, playing starkly against his massive and imposing figure.

There's a lot of terrible films out there that deserve to be forgotten, Let's Go To Prison, frankly is a waste of time, money, talent, space (digital and real), resources and everything about it.

The Duplass Brothers are the inadvertent creators of the oft despised Mumblecore cinematic movement, based largely on their first two films, The Puffy Chair and Baghead, largely improvised films, shot on the cheap (with a quasi Dogme-95 aesthetic).  Though Mumblecore is quite derided, it's acknowledged that the Duplass' are quite handily the masters of the form, having since pushed the basic structure to comparatively larger-scale productions with name brand actors like John C. Reilley, Jonah Hill and Marisa Tomei in Cyrus and here with Jason Segel, Ed Helms and Sussan Sarandon in Jeff, Who Lives At Home.

Given how emotionally charged Cyrus was, I was expecting a bit more of the same out of Jeff, investigating the emotional side of having a grown offspring or sibling still occupying your space and the effect it has on the family dynamic.  Basically, I was expecting more of the "At Home" part of the title to be relevant.  But the Duplass' abandon the idea of exploring an idea for instead solely exploring the characters in the film.  Segel is the titular Jeff, unemployed once again, still living at home, constantly stoned, just barely capable of looking after himself.   Jeff is given one task, to go to the home reno store and buy some glue to fix a closet door shutter, and he sets off with that goal in mind.  But high, and fixated on the synchronicity of life and the meaning of the movie Signs, he gets detoured quickly.  Meanwhile, his estranged brother Pat searches for fulfillment not from his wife (the always awesome Judy Greer) or building a family, but by giving the appearance of success, the immature prestige of owning a fancy sports car.  Their widowed mother, Sharon, long single, searches for her own sense of fulfillment, her own sense of moving on with her life by way of a secret admirer at work.

Jeff and Pat collide, and their sibling dynamic puts them at odds instantly.  Pat's life starts careening out of control, and it's Jeff's rather zen like belief in the meaning of signs that indirectly and in an entirely serendipitous fashion, that actually starts to straighten out Pat's downward spiral.  Their story collides with Sharon's in an appropriate fashion.  The more these happenstances occur, the lighter the touch of the film seems.  It's almost whimsical, but not quite that twee.  Jeff, is decidedly inoffensive and becomes quite charming, ending in a sweet and rewarding fashion.  It's surprisingly earnest, a comedy in tone more than ever in jokes and punchlines.  This is a film that's rooting for its characters, and while I wouldn't go so far as to say "uplifting", it's definitely a film that start out cold and ends up comfortingly warm.

Goldthwait and Odenkirk are near-legends in the comedy industry at this point (though neither really for their directing talent) while Mark Duplass is quite solidly shoring his foundation as a multi-talent (and a gifted comedic improviser as seen on FX's The League).  This final film comes from yet another comedian, one less experienced before (or behind) the cameras.  Mike Birbiglia's Sleepwalk With Me is an intensely personal and hilarious story which Birbigs has worked into multiple formats over the years.  It started as a one-man-play, became a book, a recording of the show was released on CD and, thanks to his exposure on the highly popular radio program This American Life, it's now a movie (co-produced by TIL's host Ira Glass).

Birbigs (as he's known to his friends and fans) has this material down pat, and despite having no previous directorial credits, he has a very assured hand here behind the cameras.  His confidence with the story he's telling must have tempered any anxiety he might have had, as the film not only tells the story incredibly well, but the little flourishes Birbiglia puts in throughout, such as the driving narration and the dream sequences intercut with reality are quite brilliant.

There's a relatable intimacy to Birbigs' story, about being in a relationship that just isn't working for him despite every indication that it should, about being unhappy with his current station in life and reaching for any opportunity that can even marginally advance it, about being so stressed out by these things that his subconscious starts manifesting physically, and dangerously so.

I've read the book, and I loved it.  I've heard Birbiglia's live performance and it's just as good.  This film measures up equally well, and I adore it.  It's thoroughly Birbiglia's tale (only, for some reason, names are changed, most distractingly for me, as a fan,  was his inexplicable change of his own to Pandamiglio) and it's true-life nature, as well as Birbiglia's storytelling skills, make it fascinating and often hilarious.  It offers an  astute comedy about relationships falling apart, as well as a look inside the difficult world of a working stand-up comic, as well as a bit of psychological exploration.  It's a rich and deep story that is deceptively simple, in part due to its highly refined nature.  I can't recommend it enough.