This... this is an ugly cry movie. There is a scene in the trailer, from early in the movie, where Lily Trevino (Barbie Ferreira, Mile End Kicks) goes to see a free therapist and tells them about her life; the therapist breaks down crying, ugly crying. As part of the trailer, it set our expectations of this movie pretty well. As part of the plot, it had more weight as the therapist is a free therapist, at a local clinic, and she is new at her job -- her unprofessional reaction is understandable, as Lily sits before her, telling her story matter-of-factly, bluntly, seemingly not understanding the weight of such a life that up to now, has been, frankly, horrible. Her mom, an addict, left early in Lily's life. She was raised by her horrible father and just broke up with a guy who texted Lily as if she was his other girlfriend. And yet, Lily apologized to him. And comforts the therapist. Lily seemingly accepts her terrible place in life, but the fact she is seeing a therapist suggests she knows... something is wrong.
Bob Trevino (John Leguizamo, The Happening) is unrelated to Lily. He's the construction manager in a small contracting company and he is a push-over. He is friendless, meek and disconnected from his wife, as she lives her life in scrapbooking, involving him little. They lost a child early in their marriage, and never recovered.
Bob Trevino (French Stewart, Girls! Girls! Girls!) is Lily's father, the horrible man who blames all his woes on Lily. He's a pensioner, constantly seeking a replacement for Lily's mother, dragging her along as a sort of demented idea of a wingman, and blaming her when his own personality torpedoes any chance he has with the ladies.
After one particular encounter, where Lily mixes up some of his recent (ex) girlfriends with the new one, he cuts her off, stops answering her calls, doesn't answer the door and literally has security called on her. He is such a horrible person, and yet he appears to be Lily's only connection. Oh, she is friends with Daphne (Lolo Spencer, The Sex Lives of College Girls), the disabled woman she is a live-in caretaker for, but Lily doesn't acknowledge that to herself nor Daphne. Unable to get hold of her father, she looks him up on Facebook and bumps into the other Bob Trevino, sending him a friend request -- I am assuming her father has already unfriended her, and she is trying to reconnect their accounts, after all FB was where he shared all the details about his latest GF with Lily. Other Bob Trevino is unfamiliar with FB but needs connection in his life as well; so he clicks Accept almost immediately followed by a Like on one of her posts. Lily is thrilled despite understanding this is an entirely different Bob Trevino.
What follows is a vignette commentary on Social Media. Lily fills up her feed with fond recollections of her life and inane daily statements ("just had the greatest lunch!"), and Bob Likes or replies on each and every one. She loves the validation, and he likes (pun intended) the interaction with someone. He also knows she appears to need something. Eventually they begin DMing and we observe, with more than a little cringe factor, but also ... how sweet. Bob tells his wife, explains its not like that and promises he won't give Lily any money, because its just online. Then Lily's toilet explodes and ... well, she calls him. He comes over, fixes her toilet and comments, "Shit happens...." That goes up on Facebook.
Lily and Bob become friends, and more than a little surrogate father & daughter situation. It enables both of them to open up about their feelings about life and connection. Lily is still trying to reconnect with her real father, which when he learns on Other Bob, he tries to get something out of it -- literally asks her to ask him for money. He supports his asking by giving her an itemized list of all the spending he did to raise her. He is so horrible, but with Other Bob in the picture, she is starting to see this, for real. Sometimes you don't know how bad a situation is until you get a whiff of a better one, or more likely, you don't acknowledge its possible until you see it in front of you.
Should I make a spoiler warning? In a movie like this, things either progress to a happy level, lessons are learned and we smile at the new path laid out before us. Or, things go horribly Late Second Act wrong.
Other Bob dies. His work has always been stressful to him and the elation he feels when he quits it, gives him a heart attack. He doesn't pass immediately, he gets a few weeks with his wife, but then a second one does him in. During this period, his phone is off, and Lily is desperate. No Likes, no contact. She goes to his house, tries to break in and is caught. Lily is losing it. But eventually she tries to move on, actually tries to improve her life, to be a person without either Bob Trevino.
One day she opens FB and sees the post on his page regarding his death from the second heart attack. Lily drives to Indiana, with Daphne whom she is now acknowledging as a proper friend, for the funeral and meets Bob's wife. They embrace, Lily is gifted a scrapbook of her and Bob's entire online history together. Jeannie (Rachel Bay Jones, George & Mandy's First Marriage), Bob's wife, could have freaked out about this weird relationship he had with this messed up stranger, but she saw it all, and saw how it changed her husband. The scrapbook is her gift to him, and to Lily. Begin ugly crying.
The movie is not the sort of thing I normally watch, but it would have been during the heavy days of That Guy, when I was moved more by stories being told, by lives being capture, than by Big Drama and Amazing Situations. This is most definitely melodramatic sentimentality, with more than a little cringe, but its told heartfully. Its the expansion of a premise, and a vignette of a period in a person's life, which quite frankly, are what all movies are -- just moments in long lives.
Unless you are watching a biopic or a historical drama over a longer period.
This Week: May December (2023, d. Todd Haynes - Netflix) Killers of the Flower Moon (2023, d. Martin Scorsese - AppleTV+) Maestro (2023, d. Bradley Cooper - Netflix) The Lost City (2022, d. Adam Nee, Aaron Nee - Netflix) Last Night In Soho (2021, d. Edgar Wright - Netflix)
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The conceit behind Todd Haynes' latest, May December, is one that should make anyone feel very uncomfortable. Its premise is inspired by the infamous Mary Kay Letourneau story, one in which a woman in her 30's commited statutory rape on a minor, is criminally convicted and imprisoned, where it turns out she's pregnant and has the baby, then, upon release, rekindles the relationship, marries and raises a family with the boy-turned-man.
Haynes' film is a fictionalization of this, meeting up with this very awkward family some 20 years later, where the facade of "normalcy" has to be plastered up every day. Helping bring us into this dynamic is actress Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) who will be portraying Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore) in a new movie, and Gracie has agreed to let her into their life in hopes of getting sensitive representation in the picture.
Elizabeth spends time with the Gracie, Joe (Charles Melton) and the Yoo family, joining them for dinners and at work and at school, and if she picks up on the extremely awkward dynamics between everyone, she's very reticent to react to it. Gracie keeps trying to politely present her homelife, as well as her place in the town they live in as something natural, just your average family. She avoids any mention of drama, because if she were even to consider it, then there would be nothing but.
Gracie has a son from her previous marriage, Georgie, who was Joe's best friend until Joe was molested by his mom. Georgie is clearly fucked up by the whole event, and basically lives a drug-fuelled, care-free life, laced tightly with anger and rage. Gracie and Joe have three children of their own, their eldest has returned from her respite at college for the graduation of the middle child, while their youngest teen seems to have just become aware of their family history. All three kids are mortified to be Gracie's children, but do seem to have a very close bond with Joe that Gracie seems to ignore.
If it all sounds direly heavy, it is surprisingly anything but. Instead of capital-D drama, Haynes instead leans very, very hard into melodrama. It starts with the score, which is a mix of new compositions by Marcelo Zavros and re-orchestrated tracks of Michael Legrand's from the 1971 British period drama The Go-Between. I don't know if you could call music "gauzy" but those Legrand tracks are definitely that, like prototypical TV-movie-of-the-week overblown melodrama. Deep register piano keys reverberating, while higher register keys are slowly plunked in a pretty simple but ominous tune. The first real indication of what kind of movie this is finds Gracie opening the fridge door, cue the strong melodramatic piano chords (as if a big, important, dramatic reveal is about to happen), she stares into the fridge, and utters "I don't think we have enough hot dogs."
As Elizabeth makes her way through the supporting players in Gracie and Joe's life and history, while also spending extensive time with them both, a portrait of what their dynamic really is is revealed. Joe, despite being 36, a medical professional and seemingly a good dad, is still very much emotionally in a 13-year-old's mindset when it comes to his view of the world, and even moreso his relationship with Grace. She infantilizes him something fierce, acting as his mom and his wife and lover. The glimpses we get into their sex life are horrifyingly embarrassing for them both. Gracie, in her own way, is emotionally stunted. She's oblivious to others' needs and feelings, unapologetic to a fault, and incapable of seeing any flaw in herself. It's not ego, but repression, though it's clear deep down it's all resonating within her and she doesn't know how to reconcile it. The facade she keeps up, of everything being normal, is what she has to do to survive, but it keeps her at a distance from everyone, and it's clear she's still sort of preying upon Joe.
The dynamic between Moore and Portman is phenomenal. The scenes of Gracie and Elizabeth together -- as these two women do little else but study each other -- are fascinating. Gracie is perhaps jealous of Elizabeth's youth and freedoms, while Elizabeth basically is trying to become Gracie, to taste her life in a very unhealty way. It's all the more hilarious when we see the production Elizabeth is in at the end of the film, and how she's chosen to interpret Gracie for the role.
May December is an extremely watchable dark, dark comedy with just a hint of repugnance. It does present these characters with a sense of pathos, rather than being judgmental or damning, but at the same time, there is absolutely nothing flattering being said about this situation or the people involved. It's just as fucked up as you would think. But what a treat.
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Of all the films on this year's "Best Picture" list at the Academy Awards, Killers of the Flower Moon was the one I looked forward to watching the least. The subject matter is tough to take in, but important history to learn. The Osage people, when oil was struck on their land in the 1910s, became rapidly wealthy, but the white man's government refused to let them access such wealth and it was put into trusts that they could only retrieve with help of an executor, or a white family member. It led to a lot of greedy white men doing horrible, heartless things, as greedy white men have been known to do throughout, oh, all of history.
There's been a lot of talk about how this film exposes this horrible history and puts a big old spotlight on it as prestige Oscar bait, much in the way HBO's Watchmen put a big spotlight on the Tulsa massacre (which happens, and is referenced, within the timeline of this story). It does accomplish that. But, to my continued dismay throughout its 206-minute runtime (!), it tells this story almost entirely through the eyes of white men. Those mainly being the morally inept Ernest Buckheart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his vile uncle William Hale (Robert De Niro) whom he calls "King". On this Osage people's land, King is the deputy sheriff but also a civic leader. He has a warm smile and kind tone which fools all the Native Americans into believing him to be a just man, when in reality, behind the scenes, he's responsible for robbing their people of their land, their money and their lives.
King guides Ernest towards stern Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone), and influences him into marrying her, but Ernest thinks he truly loves the woman, although he doesn't respect her enough to try and save her, or who she cares about, from King's machinations. Throughout the progress of the film, King has every member of her family killed in one way or another, and, through tampering with her insulin, poisons her slowly over time so that Ernest may inherit and keep her entitlements "in the family".
It is a long, long movie that is quite watchable in the Scorsese way, but, for me at least, not in the slightest likeable. I took great exception to how the film essentially sidelines Mollie for the majority of the picture such that we only ever see her grief, or her point of view of the events from a distanced lens. She is the female lead of the film, but she is a secondary character when, truly, the film should be about her. Ernest is a horrendous lead. I run pretty cold on DiCaprio most of the time, and while he truly he puts in the effort here, Ernest is just a dull, shitty person and following him around for 200 minutes is about as enjoyable as having a root canal. I'm obviously in the minority on this, but I think it was a fatal miscalculation having Ernest, and not Mollie be the lead of the film.
Of all the "Best Picture" nominees (I've seen 9 of the 10 as of this writing) this is my least favourite.
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Maestro, as a "Best Picture" nominee, sits one higher on the list than Killers.... Bradley Cooper's all-in dive for Oscar glory follows the life, but mostly the marriage, of celebrated American conductor, composer, musician, bon vivant etc. Leonard Bernstein.
Cooper writes, directs and stars in the picture, you can truly feel him reaching for that golden statue like a small child, desperate to get his grubby hands on one. But, if my inklings are correct, the effort was enough to earn him the nominations, as if to say "we see what you're doing, and good job, buddy", but also to say, "better luck next time" with a pat on the head.
This is a hot mess of a movie. It spans Bernstein's life from his early 20's up until his death (the worst Hollywood biopics tend to be those that dare to try and fit someone's life and/or carrer and/or accomplishments into 2 hours). As a result, Cooper decides to present this life as, basically, a series of vignettes. Short acts that feature a great conversation, or a dance sequence, or a marital spat, or one of Bernstein's great efforts behind the conductor's podium. 85% of the film revolves around Leonard's life and strife with his truest love Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan). I write "truest love" because Bernstein was bisexual, or pansexual maybe, but definitely his preference was men, excepting for Felicia, and just because he was married didn't mean he put any of his predilections aside.
Before seeing this film, I knew that Bernstein existed, but that about it. I might have been able to guess that he was a composer, maybe even a conductor, but I wouldn't have been able to give you a single credit to his fame (except his namedrop in REM's "It's the End of the World As We Know It (and I Feel Fine)"...which here becomes the tackiest needledrop in cinema since every needledrop in 2016's Suicide Squad). After seeing this film I know that Bernstein was a revered conductor and composed the music for West Side Story and really, really, really, really, really like fucking men. And that he really loved his wife, even when fucking men.
I don't feel at any point I ever got a true sense of who Leonard or Felicia were as individuals, only as a couple. I had a strong sense of their relationship because that is almost exclusively what this film is about, and frankly it's not tremendously enlightening. It's not boring, as the film moves way too quickly to get bored, but at such a rapid clip moving through someone's life (or someones' lives) it's hard to ever feel grounded or invested. I was often confused. I liken Maestro to being the first 10 minutes of Up stretched out over two hours, with a lot more men kissing.
Cooper, in his various vignettes, experiments with style and structure and it must have been pretty creatively rewarding, but as an audience member, I found it distracting from the first scene when it jumps from aged and wrinkled Bernstein into black-and-white squareboxed format. Later when Leonard and Felicia first meet, they talk in that 1930's His Girl Friday rapid-patter which is definitely a style choice, but feels completely put on and unnatural. This whole film, frankly feels that way.
Clearly Cooper has a deep love and fascination with Bernstein, but this movie feels like he watched Fosse/Verdon and said "that's the take for Maestro". But what Fosse/Verdon had was 10 episodes, as well as All That Jazz to back into the life of Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon. 2-ish hours is just not enough to get even close to that level of intimacy with Lenny and Felicia.
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When I put The Lost City on, Lady Kent asked me one question..."Why?"
In the year and a half since The Lost City debuted in the wake of covid and got swallowed up by the streaming machine, it's actually garnered itself a bit of a reputation as being... good? Yes, "good, question mark".
This one was a fairly low-key pretty big hit, quite surprisingly. We look at these sort of celebrity two-hander action comedies with a bit of disdain these days. If it's not a known property we're like, "why is this happening, exactly?". They used to happen all the time, pre-superhero dominance, but I think they're seen as old fashioned, and film goers get a bit cynical when studios try to force two movie stars together and just expect us to want to see it. Films used to be star driven, now they're IP or concept driven by and large. We've become wary of "celebrities".
If you've seen Romancing the Stone, this is basically a reformulation of that story. A romance writer finds herself in a situation not too far outside one of her plots, forced to partner up with a man she can barely stand, only to fall in love, find adventure and treasure, and defeat the bad guys. In this case, when Sandra Bullock's novelist Loretta Sage is kidnapped by billionaire Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliff), it's Sandra's sweet, simple himbo cover model Alan (Channing Tatum) who comes to her rescue... or, rather, tries to come to her rescue.
It's a film that is smart misadventure, exposing the incompetence of the two leads, but also showing an ability to grow and learn on the fly, and get closer to each other as they're forced to rely upon each other. There is a 16 year age gap between Bullock and Tatum which makes for a great other-side of the usual Hollywood trope. It presents Alan's crush on Loretta in a puppy love sort of way until Alan becomes disillusioned when spending real time with her, only to come back around when she starts to break down her pretentions and emotional barriers.
Tatum is the absolute best at playing the "beautiful, sensitive meathead", and he dials it up to 11 here as perfect comedy. Bullock has a "mode" for these films and she falls pretty comfortably into it. She has been doing it for almost 30 years. Radcliff, with every role he takes, from farting corpse to novelty musician, continues to shake off the stink of Harry Potter, and he plays a wonderful entitled asshole that's part Dr. Evil, part Ron Silver.
In the end, Lady Kent said "I have to say...pretty good?"
Now, the question is do we watch the Julia Roberts/George Clooney two-hander Ticket to Paradise?
[Had to laugh revisiting Toasty's postand seeing him ask the same question as Lady Kent...why? But...we agree.]
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It is surprising to me that it took almost three years for us to get around to watching Last Night in Soho. Lady Kent and I both are fans of Edgar Wright's work, having seen all his films, many multiple times. I think the middling reviews of ...Soho put it low on the priority list, plus the combo of Thomasin McKenzie's porcelain doll-esque face and ghostly street urchin voice as witnessed in the trailer didn't entice me much more.
And yeah, the opening moments of ...Soho were very much hard for me to get into. It's not McKenzie's fault she's built the way she, but that sort of built-for-childrens-programming vibe is not something one can quickly settle into.
In the film McKenzie's Ellie Turner has been accepted to the London College of Fashion, but she's been raised poor and rural by her grandmother following her mother's suicide. She doesn't fit in at school, and dorm life is too aggressively social, so she rents a room in Soho with a strict elderly woman. Ellie has seen dead people before (she sees her mother sometimes, and thinks of it as a sign of good luck) but when she falls asleep in Soho, she lives a completely other life. She starts being there, in the glorious 1960's heyday, both following and sometimes inhabiting the life of Sandie Collins (Anya Taylor-Joy). Ellie loves the fantasy of it and it becomes her escape from crushing reality.
But the dream soon becomes nightmareish, with Sandie being bamboozled out of her chanteuse career, instead working burlesque and ultimately, unwillingly the sex trade. The men of the 60s all become monsters until Ellie sees a murder and becomes obsessed with it in the modern day. She has to question her own sanity when the worlds start to blur even when she's awake.
Wright has clearly fashioned ...Soho in the Italian Giallo fashion: murder mysteries that are usually bloodier, scarier, and sexier, sometimes with a paranormal bent, and typically finds a non-police or private detective in the role of solving the mystery or capturing the killer. Even in his usual fashin, this is a more stylized film for Wright, as he twists his narrative around visual concepts one would have found in the 60's and 70's but, challenging himself to push further. The colour palette of the film, especially in the 60's, is gorgeous, pink neon soaked with heavy black shadows. The mirror work, in the first act especially, is mind blowing: I'm sure it was practical but there's some definite movie magic going on there (a scene where Taylor-Joy descends down a mirrored staircase but it's McKenzie in the mirror is a triumph).
It's the third act then, when it goes full psychological and paranormal horror, that it becomes a bit too overblown. Without revealing anything, the finale is very muddy in its message about victims of violence and what justice means for them, and I think that's where the critical reaction was shaken. I can't help but think about Poor Things' narrative when watching this, even though I understand they're both portraying different times and intentions.
So, happy to have seen it, and will probably revisit in the future, but also, I get the disappointment with it, and I agree. And it seems Toasty and I agree as well.
But is it horror? It kind of is, in the way that Giallo is a subgenre of horror. It's not out to jump-scare you but it is meant to be intense and frightening. So yeah, ish.
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BONUS Kent's Oscars 2024 Best Picture Rankings:
Anatomy of a Fall
Poor Things
The Holdovers
American Fiction
Oppenheimer
Barbie
The Zone of Interest
Maestro
Killers of the Flower Moon to watch: Past Lives
(Note: The Holdovers, American Fiction and Oppenheimer could all shuffle around in their respective 3rd/4th/5th place spot depending on my mood)
Speaking of bad movies that at least entertained...
In the first movie, either I misunderstood some things about the Sun dying, or they created this movie to purposely explain some of the things that didn't make sense in the first movie. Yes, the sequel to The Wandering Earth is a prequel, and to be fair, its a proper prequel meant to chronicle the time between deciding to attach rockets and the test of the first rocket. Oh, and the blowing up of the moon. And the invention of AI to help with the control of the rockets.
Of note, someone was listening to my brain. One of the 31 "story ideas" in my head is that the invention of sentient AI is an accidental side-effect of the creation of a computer that is capable of doing the calculations for FTL travel.
The problem with "chronicling the time" is that they wanted to do the span of years, but they also wanted to retain characters we can relate to and root for, so the entire time period between "oh shit, we have to do something!" and first rocket test is barely one generation. No matter, hand wavey time!
So, we begin not long after the discovery that The Sun is dying. They fill in some blanks from the first movie and explain, which I believe is the correct astro physics, that its not that The Sun will burn out and leave the solar system dead cold, but that the quickly dying sun will expand and consume the entire solar system. NASA (IRL) isn't sure The Sun would actually eat us, but they also say it will happen in 6 billion years, not next week, so what do they know. And with this discovery, there are only two solutions: fly the Earth to another solar system, or .., convert everyone to AI so they "can live forever". A very big conflict in the movie is the dispute between what the real choice should be, enough that there are violent rebellious forces that want to bring down Big Rocket.
So, we answered one question and introduced another head scratcher. Why is the AI idea a viable solution? AI requires computers, computers require power and an actual place to house those computers & their power source. If The Sun consumes the solar system, bye bye computers and bye bye AI People. They could have mentioned an idea to build a colony ship that would have AI People on it, instead of living people, but nope, just, "WE SHOULD ALL BE CONVERTED TO AI !!"
Sigh.
The movie begins, post explanatory prelude, with the new teams joining the Space Force funded by all the Governments, ruled by the United Earth Government based out of NYC but mainly controlled by China's generous understanding of everything possible and industrious workforce. A space elevator has been created so they can collect resources from The Moon. But the AI People contingent attack! For some reason, they are so incensed with the Big Rocket idea that they have to destroy it all! The opening attack segment is exciting, a CGI extravaganza full of death and flying machinery and explosions and heroic sacrifices that bond some of our potential heroes. The AI People contingent is inevitably defeated but they do destroy the space elevator. Alas that somehow that doesn't deter Big Rocket's contingency plans. Whatever, hand wavey time!
Oh yeah, they are also building rockets on the moon, so they could move it out of the way. This is where we begin a significant subplot (main plot tangent?) of using an advanced quantum computer bolstered by AI to help with the Big Moon Rocket testing. This particular AI also happens to have the digital consciousness of the late daughter of one of the engineers. Big Moon Rockets are a success. China leads the building of the remaining Big Rockets on the Earth's equator.
Time passes. People get cancer.
It is at this point I realize I dont' really care about the melodramatic tribulations of any of the characters. One main character has cancer and will die, but her husband wants to secure a spot for her in the Big Cities Under the Rockets. Other Main Character is still trying to get his digital daughter into a bigger AI so she can "live a complete life". But I don't care, as I am just enjoying all the CGI tech.
I was never really sure, but I think AI Daughter Guy, who is pissed he hasn't been provided a proper quantum computer for his daughter, uploads her anyway, which is ... connected to the AI computers on the Moon, which causes them to malfunction, which causes them to blow up, which causes the Moon to start to fall. Uhhh, guys, wrong movie. So, to stop The Moon from joining forces with The Sun to fuck up The Earth, they collect all the nuclear missiles and bombs on Earth and deliver them to The Moon to blow that fucker up. They also want to early ignite some of the Big Rockets so they can scoot The Earth over to the left, out of the way of The Moon debris. Yeah, I am pretty sure that is not how gravity works. Whatever, hand-wavey. Also, the nuclear option hits a snag, so they send 300+ astronauts to The Moon with hand-detonators to make noble sacrifices.
BUT, and if you haven't guesses yet, there is one challenge after another in this movie, there is another problem. Years ago they turned the Internet off (cuz, reasons), which they now suddenly need so they can properly ignite Big Rocket to scoot The Earth out of the way. So, not just quantum computer AI but also Big Network to connect it all together. The root server is in Beijing, under water, so deep sea diving scientists have to go there and reboot things, which again involves fuck ups and noble sacrifice. It also makes use of AI Daughter to properly ignite the rockets and The Earth flies away into the wild black yonder.
Waitasec. Wasn't a critical plot of the first movie also all about doing final tests on Big Rocket before igniting them and flying into the wild black yonder? I had assumed this movie's ending was just about scooting out of the way, but the final scenes implied they were actually beginning their journey.
In the end, I guess I was entertained enough to finish it but not entertained enough to re-watch the first movie. I can only assume the third movie will pick up near the end of the journey, some 2500 years in the future when they arrive at Replacement Solar System and... well, probably have to blow up a planet that is sitting in the spot The Earth will need, or some other such nonsense.
Toasty already wrote about one mediocre 2020-year-of-our-COVID movie, so how about another? We're bound to see many, many, many of these crop up this 2021, I wonder if it will be like our Hallmarkies where we have to gauge them against each other because otherwise they're not real movies...? Well, here we have a "romantic-comedy-drama-heist" COVID picture.
So, yes, you heard right. There is a "heist" (that's actually just a theft) in this film
that is so ridiculously set up that it winds up being not some big orchestrated plan,
but rather a crime of opportunity where puzzle pieces absurdly start
placing themselves together so obviously...I mean it's got to be meant as
satire, right? But satire of what?
This film is also one of opportunity, where it
seems like "hey, we have access to Harrords of London for one night during this
COVID shitstorm, what can we do with it?". The "heist" seems so
inorganic to the rest of the movie, which itself is a light drama -- or
quasi-comedy -- about a divorcing couple forced to lock down together.
The
first two acts really get into the Marriage Story meat of their
relationship, and I love how both Anne Hathaway and Chiwetel Ejiofor play it out,
teasing the backgrounds of these characters and how they wound up here. There's some zoom cameos from the likes of Ben Stiller, Stephen Merchant, Mindy Kaling and Ben Kingsley (in great form) that remind you that a lot of talented people got bored being stuck at home. It's fun, actually, in a weird way, if you're not triggered by all the
COVID stuff.
But that third act...you know I was thinking I'd be
there for it...but it kept pushing the level of absurdity, and kept
raising stakes that didn't need to be raised, and I couldn't get fully on board with it. All the drama/tension/humour
should have stayed in the will they/wont they (both steal the thing and
get back together), but no, they had to just start putting dumbass
barriers in their way leading to a postscript which seemed to imply that
no one was checking up on this very weird scenario that was largely
caught on camera. It's as if they were just winging these Harrods scenes and
didn't have time to reshoot for logic or consistency.
My limited research (aka Wikipedia) says : (from)a screenplay that Steven Knight had written that July (2020) over a dare....(t)he film was shot over the course of 18 days. Due to the limited
resources and short production window the order of several scenes needed
to be adjusted". It's a professionally made movie, but these seams show through.
Ejiofor making bread though during the credits kind of brought me back around.
Back in November 2006 I was with the wife (who was not yet then my wife) in London, England when we decided to get off our feet and take in a movie. Looking through the listings I saw that there was a giant monster movie that had been generating great buzz on the nerd sites I was viewing back then, a film called The Host by Bong Joon-Ho. I loved the experience of movies in London (times were listed with two times, the time when the commercials and previews started and the actual start time of the movie) and I loved the movie. It was just an incredible film which I have been meaning to both add to the shelf and revisit ever since. Of course, Bong Joon-Ho's name cemented in my brain immediately and his films have become must-see pictures.
Like many modern auteurs (eg. Quentin Tarantino, Yorgos Lanthanamos, Guillermo Del Toro, Jordan Peele), Director Bong speaks the language of cinema. He's able to take genre and turn it into something beyond genre. His craft in filmmaking is taking the languages of others and making it work in his own vision. Influences are not obscured but they concede to his will. Each frame of Director Bong captures seems meticulously constructed, from set design, to composition, to movement within the frame. Where both Snowpiercer and Okja's frames seemed maybe a little overbusied, Parasite is a master in full control and negotiating perfectly his restraint.
Parasite isn't a genre picture, but it's nerdy as all hell in its own way and worth obsessing over. It's the story of the downtrodden Kim family, happy together but struggling to get by, as they start to integrate themselves into the household of the upper-class Park family through an increasingly sketchier series of lies and deceits. The Kim family are not thieves, they're not violent or dangerous, but they are desperate to work and afford to live. Maintaining the lie with their employers doesn't seem at all hard for any of them, they genuinely seem good at their work, likeable and are liked. They weave their earnest grift with admirable aplomb. But one lie did some damage and it starts to return upon them, and then spirals out of control in both a comic and horrific fashion.
How this all plays out, from start to finish, is a masterclass in storytelling. It's both intensely dramatic, but also pulpy. It's fun and funny, but also so heavy. There's a surface level glee to seeing the rich get grifted so easily, but the reality underlying the story is one of class divides which takes on more and more weight. The "parasite" of the title represents the one family that's feeding off the other family, and at first it seems like the Kims are the parasite, but as we move on, to see the reliance that the Parks have on their employees, it's even clearer that it's the other way around. A parasite can happily move on to a new host, and the more advanced parasite can do so easily, without any further consideration, as the Parks do here.
The fact that Parasite took home both Best Motion Picture and Best Director at the last Academy Awards is only shocking in that the Academy has historically had a hard time granting a foreign language picture its big accolades. But there's no doubt that Parasite was the best picture of last year. It's somehow a poignant drama, social commentary and massively entertaining with sets so iconic they've become tremendously popular background images for people to use on Zoom calls during the COVID pandemic, and even prior to its academy win HBO was looking to Director Bong to expand upon the story for a mini-series or ongoing series.
My only disappointment is in myself for not seeing it in the theatre, as I had intended.
2019, Simon Kinberg (screenwriter for last few X-Men movies) -- download
**warning: spoilers, cuz I don't have the energy to hide stuff for this one**
WTF. Seriously, WTF. How do you adapt a beloved X-Men comics story (Uncanny X-Men #129-138) into something so... bland. Hell, even if X-Men: Days of Future Past wasn't great, at least I seemed to have enjoyed it. But this did... nothing for me. Again, it was not terrible in execution or craft, but.. oh, I don't know, its just so frustrating, I find myself wishing I had just disliked it, because then I would not just hate it for being so utterly workaday.
Following in the path of the other First Class movies, we are still in the the X-Men's past, pre-Wolverine, under the tutelage of a still young, pre-Jean-Luc Picard, Charles Xavier (James McAvoy; The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) and 10 years after the last movie (X-Men:Apocalypse) and we have the X-Men as the darlings of the US Govt. I guess having saved the world from a mutant wannabe god made them acceptable & likable enough to have an X-Phone (yep, direct line to POTUS) and being beckoned to save some astronauts. While in space, Jean Grey is dosed with The Phoenix Force, which I just saw as a colourful version of Galactus from the original Fantastic Four movies or maybe even Parallax from Green Lantern?? She survives.
Back on Earth, before you can finish a Dazzler bonfire party, Phoenix goes boom. Everyone is afraid! Everyone is worried! Jean is angry! Charles lied! Aliens arrive, and eat someone's dog and become an uncharacteristically alien looking Jessica Chastain -- seriously, she isn't alien looking because she's an alien, but because they made her look like an Emma Frost knock-off. Oh whatever, after confronting a not-dead Dad (Charles lied!), Jean runs to Magneto to help her, bats around some US Army (POTUS has decided the revoke the Bat.. er X-Phone because she made some holes in crappy houses and schmushed some cars) helicopters and then runs off again. Eventually everyone catches up with everyone, some zip bang slash crash pew pew pew, and the soldiers capture everyone but Alien Jessica Chastain.
About the only interesting segment of the entire movie is the train ride from Deadpool 2. The aliens attack and everyone gets to let loose because, you know aliens. Its a fun battle. But they didn't even do the sacrificial attack that climaxed the comics, they just had her pop like a fireworks display. There is a sub-plot about Charles being not-nice, so at the end of the movie he leaves the school in the hands of Beast and goes to Paris to play chess with Magneto. So, technically it all looked good and had some exciting bits (and Dazzler !!) but *yawn* oh-mi-gawd, it had no idea what it wanted to do with the franchise, just milk some rewards from another known X-Men comic story (if you are over 30) and ... move on? Oh, and Jennifer Lawrence definitely moved on, getting killed early in the movie, so I guess we now have to Google "how can Mystique be dead" to find out how the early version of the franchise even starts.
[10 for 10... that's 10 movies -- or TV shows -- which we give ourselves 10 minutes
apiece to write about. Part of our problem is we don't often have the
spare hour or two to give to writing a big long review for every movie
--or TV show-- we watch. How about a 10-minute non-review full of
half-remembered scattershot thoughts? Surely that's doable? ]
In This Edition: Killing Eve Season 2 - Bravo Shrill Season 1 - Crave Dead To Me Season 1 - Netflix Stranger Things Season 3 - Netflix The Tick Season 2 - Amazon Prime Legion Season 3 - FX Dark Season 2 - Netflix GLOW Season 3 - Netflix Chernobyl - HBO I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson Season 1 - Netflix
Aaaand....g-g-g-ghost! I mean GO!
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I liked season 1 of Killing Eve just fine, but it felt like it should have been a done-in-one season. The fact that it wasn't frustrated me. As well, I'm not sure I got the point of it at the time. Season 2 reinforced what the point was: this exceptionally twisted love story between Eve and Villanelle. Eve is more infatuated with Villanelle than she is in love with her, and vice versa (I'm not sure, given how sociopathic she is, that Villanelle even can understand what love is). Season 2 gets real down and dirty into this warped tango the two have, as well as deals with the fallout of Eve's decisions and a bit more poking around into the world in which Villanelle operates. It balloons out the world of the show very very nicely, and expands on the characters nicely as well. As much as we're seeing Villanelle's influence rub off on Eve, even more we start to see Fiona Shaw's shadow agency tendencies rub off on her (or at least the ones Eve can perceive). There is a lot of manipulation happening this season from almost all the key players (with poor Niko and Kenny bearing the brunt of much of it) and the show is better for all the deception and trickery. And yet, this season was saddled with an almost incredibly stupid central story, a social media magnate who has murderous tendencies but also so much power he's almost untouchable. It seems not only improbable, but impractical and absurd that Villanelle, who was the chase subject of last season, seemingly public enemy #1, becomes a colleague (or at least a tool) of the agency this season. It makes next to no sense.
I really didn't think I was going to watch Season 2, but I'm glad I did. Yet I'm back in the same boat where I don't know if I'm going to watch Season 3 when it comes out (but I probably will, eventually).
[10:34]
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Shrill is a part of the new wave of American television that is taking its cues from the British format of show-running. Short, dedicated seasons that tell a full story, but likely to leave you wanting more. Based on a novel, the series starring (as well as co-written and created by) Saturday Night Live's Aidy Bryant is, in broad swaths, about fat shaming in America, but centered around Bryant's Portland-based journalist hopeful Annie. The magazine she works for has a toxic family atmosphere with a vitriolic boss who doesn't seem to support any of his employees yet proclaims to love them all. Annie is tasked with a food review and finds herself at a strip bar, learning about female empowerment from the women that work there. Her article isn't what it was supposed to be, yet becomes a sensation for the magazine much to her editor's chagrin. This new burst of empowerment and self confidence starts to impact Annie's life in strange ways, both good and bad. A troubled relationship with a slacker boyfriend starts to solidify, but alienating events start to occur with friends, family and coworkers. Annie explores and challenges her own empowerment, awareness of self, her own history of shame with her body, and society's impact on how she thinks of herself and self worth, and it's a pretty amazing journey in a lightly dramatic comedy wrapping.
The show is packed with great musical cues, particularly a pool party sequence that left me with big happy smile on my face. The show ends with Annie confronting her online cyberbully, and it's powerfully upsetting and a bit funny as well as totally awkward. The season ends not really in a cliffhanger, but rather with Annie's life in such a dramatic flux that one can't help want to see more of her journey. It's a really good season, but I think there's potential for greatness in the future.
[23:31]
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As far as premiere TV, Dead To Me doesn't really fit the bill. It's a really entertaining watch, I will grant it that, but it's not upper echelon, mandatory viewing. I'm going to spoil the show's second episode reveal, so if you don't want any SPOILERS then perhaps skip to then next review. Christina Applegate is a real estate agent who has recently lost her husband in a hit-and-run, and is lost as her rage consumes her, since the perpetrator fled the scene. She meets Linda Cardellini, an artist working at a retirement center, who aggressively tries to befriend her. The tactic is off-putting to the bristly Applegate, but an offer for a late-night insomniacs chat spawns a mutually rewarding friendship. But things get twisty when we learn that, indeed, Cardellini was the driver responsible for Applegate's husband's death. But there's more to it than just that. It's not just a show that asks whether a friendship can survive such a deception, whether absolution or forgiveness can be given to such an act. Things get deep, the connections formed are actually meaningful, and the truths revealed are huge complications to sustaining such a relationship.
The show, each episode, teases out additional bits of information about both Applegate's relationship with her husband as well as what actually happened that night. This metering out of information allows the audience to keep reshaping their judgement of these characters and the situation, in what I think is actually a valuable exercise in examining perspectives. There are facts, but both context and emotions change the meaning of those facts considerably and I like the way the show explores that. As well I like that the season doesn't end on a cliffhanger of Applegate finding out Cardellini's secret, but rather we get almost two full episodes of dealing with the fallout, and a completely different (perhaps somewhat predictable) cliffhanger instead. At half hour increments I was never bored, and the show is quite propulsive drawing you through its intriguing (if sometimes too soap operatic) darkly comedic drama.
[33:54]
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2018 was kind of a dark void in the G&D Sometimes Disagree world. Looking over to the right (your right) you can see there were only 30 write-ups in 2018, as opposed to our usually 120+ per year. The dark times, 2018, real dark times. As such, I have no review of Stranger Things 2 to point you too (Toasty does tho). I thought ST2 was not on par with the first season, the latter of which is a legitimate masterpiece. ST2 had a lot to live up to and did a decent job of not letting people down too badly. It unfortunatley had too many disconnected pieces that didn't all line up properly with each other and a sorely miscalculated diversion between acts 2 and 3 where we visit Eleven on a personal journey in Detroit for a full episode. This story wasn't bad in and of itself but really a major distraction to the main story thread (it should have instead been carved out and added to Netflix as a special a few months later telling the story of where she took off to and why her look changed).
Anyway, Stranger Things 3 is a return to form. It's not quite the equal of season 1 but it's pretty close to being just as great. It finds the right notes of nostalgia in it's mid 1985 setting, a bevy of charming homages that aren't *just* there as homages (everything from Aliens to Die Hard to Star Wars to Back to the Future), and some excellent additions to the cast (Maya Hawke!).
This round finds the cast separating into multiple groups comic book super-team style, each unknowingly tugging on the same thread, ultimately leading them together in the end. That the audience can see how each of these stories connect (at least in the loose details if not always the finer ones) it gives each story merit, even as they advance the characters and their relationships with each other. Steve continues to be one of the most enjoyable characters on TV, and his group introduces two new characters to the show that are both very welcome and very amazing additions. Eleven has a completely different journey this season than last, finding her own voice, not as an experiment or a quasi-superhero, but as a teenage girl. Hopper has a challenging journey, as suitor for Joyce and father to Elle, both roles he's not particularly well suited for due to his alcoholism and rage issues.
It's kind of subtle, but in every story faction the female characters are the ones leading the charge, the ones who are saying "my approach is the right one here" and the male characters having to learn to trust them. It's not hitting you over the head with any sort of messaging but the empowerment of the girls and women this season is off the charts and well deserved. At one point a male reporter calls Nancy "Nancy Drew" as if that is a derogatory term, but Nancy, Joyce, Elle, Max, Robin all do "Nancy Drew"-type sleuthing and help overcome the big nasty of the season as a result, and it's an absolute delight. And the big final fight is a gorgeous spectacle which should be on the big screen. I'm impressed with Stranger Things 3, and the bold choices it made with its characters and the finale it went with, as well as the correction in focus from Season 2. Another season is greatly anticipated.
[53:50 ... oops went 20 minutes there]
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I've been amused by every iteration of The Tick I've encountered: the comic; the cartoon; the first Barry Sonnenfeld-created live action series; and the first season of this new Amazon Prime iteration. But for some reason I was very apathetic about this second season. I had heard rumblings of its release but for weeks I couldn't even be bothered to check out whether it was actually available or not. Then, upon confirmation, we wound up watching the first two episodes and then burying it in our viewing roster for over 2 months. I don't know why my enthusiasm had waned so much. Was it the weirdly cheap-yet-not quality of the show (special effects are pretty awful, but costumes are fairly on point)? The lack of outright comedy (the humour is so subtle)? The lack of recognizable faces from Tick products past?
Perhaps.
But we finally got back to it and I have to say I loved Season 2 far more than season 1. The first season was marred by its weird scheduling, from it's long delay from pilot to 6-episode series, and then another long delay between the end of its first batch of episodes to its final batch. Along the way it always felt like it was still finding its footing.
In season 2, it starts off still finding its footing, but it gains that toe hold early on and is a confident production to the finish. There are some really fun journies for Arthur, Dot, Overkill, Ms. Lint, Superian and even Danger Boat. Things aren't nearly as high-stakes as Season 1, but they're more personal across the board and more rewarding. Things build exceptionally well in the last half of the season and end with some great set-up for season 3... which will never happen...because it was cancelled...likely because fans like me sat on it for too long and the metrics weren't there to continue.
Alas.
[1:05:31]
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look at all these great posters...
It's interesting the phenomena of peak TV, this new golden age of television. It used to be a show would take a season, sometimes two, in order to find its footing. But with this sort of auteur television, so many shows come out the gate with such a strong, singular vision that they are instant classics from the get go, and then falter when trying to repeat the effect for a second season. Stranger Things was like this, so was True Detective (and apparently Big Little Lies despite the presence of Meryl fucking Streep). Legion was also like this. The first season is an incredible piece of television, a truely artistic work in an age of omnipresence superhero media. The second season bobbled and fumbled trying to decide exactly what story it was telling and how to tell it. It's attention was fractured, unfocused and as a result its direction was often unclear. It turns out the point was to turn the series protagonist, David, into its chief adversary, a real villain. David, we learned, would destroy the world, but the second season never really got us to comfortable with that reality. The David we knew from Season 1 wasn't destroyer of worlds, he was a victim, a tortured young man. That season ended with the heel turn and it didn't seem to earn it.
This season, David earns his supervillain status, while still providing a sliver of recognition of the hero we'd hoped he would be and going through efforts not to paint his mental illness as the source of is villainy. It is also 100% a return to Season 1 form. There is clear focus and a steady artistic hand in play. Creator/showrunner Noah Hawley has a clear vision for what he's trying to accomplish, and what each character's role in the proceedings is. He makes some very bold swings (song / dance numbers, unexpected deaths) and though kind of absurd, they feel integral and part of the whole. It's a ride that kept me on the edge of my seat with some really unexpected turns and some absolutely inspired bouts of creativity (the land between time...oh man!). After being so let down by Season 2, this thrilling Season 3 has been a tremendous surprise and an anxious delight. The finale may have seemed a little soft, a little anticlimactic, and yet, it also felt exactly right for the journey these characters had made.
[1:15:01]
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The plan was to rewatch the entire first season of Dark before moving onto the second season, but timing wasn't working out to sit down to re-consume 10 hours of television. It's part of the problem with so much culture and entertainment to consume now, there's not enough time to revisit things. We managed to cram in three of Season 2's eight episodes in one night and for the first, let's say, episode and a half, I was regretting not going back. Dark isn't particularly dense, but it is intricate. Without getting too spoilery, the show cuts across multiple eras, 33 years apart, and has different people playing the same character in these different eras, as well as additional characters appearing in one era but not in another. In general, there are four different families intertwined (plus a few outlying characters) and we need to track them multi-generationally, understanding the familial and romantic connections.
It may sound like it's not worth the effort, but it more than certainly is. The show is utterly propulsive, drawing you through its time-addled narrative with utter fascination. Piecing together the connectivity of each of the characters is as equally fun as it is frustrating (just when you think you have a handle on it....) This isn't just melodrama, it's also science fiction, with the subtlest tinge of suspense and horror, and it's how these elements creep into the sprawling narrative of the small German town and the nuclear power plant that looms large over it that drive it to the next level. I'm still not sure where Season 2 is going and I've already caught wind that Season 3 is in the works (hopefully not a year and a half break between seasons like this one though. And hopefully Netflix can provide a much better season recap next time.
[1:26:05]
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Season 1 of GLOW really had to contend with some form of historical approximation, of finding a place for the true story of the formation of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling in the confines of a very fictionalized setting. Season 2 found the show exploring the characters and their relationship dynamics much more, as bonds were formed. These factors overtook the show and less time was spent on the wrestling aspect and more on the business aspects. This 3rd season threatens to explode the entire premise as the close knit group of women are thrust into the setting of Las Vegas, where the excitement of the strip, yet the isolation of living out of a hotel starts to wear on them.
The cast is huge, and this season tries valiantly to give most of the characters some form of arc, but in a scant 10 episodes averaging a little over half an hour, it doesn't do most of the arcs full justice. There are characters getting a brighter spotlight than before, like Ellen Wong's Jenny as she deals with the racist stereotypes and cultural appropriation around her or Kia Steven's Tamme as her back problems start to wear on her ability to perform. As well this season contends with additions to its cast, including Geena Davis as the Vegas hotel manager where GLOW is performing and Kevin Cahoon's drag performer Bobby Barnes. It's appreciated that the show doesn't forget about it's marvelous extended cast, but at the same time, focusing on the extended cast takes away from the central stories that kicked off the show, leaving the arcs for Ruth, Debbie, Sam and Bash all feeling somewhat underserved, and even wildly disjointed. And by the end so much has changed that one wonders what next season is even going to look like (but at the same time, at the mid-way point of this season things threaten to decimate the status quo, but they actually logically find their way right back the next episode). The only journey that felt fully baked was Sheila's. The moment when the ladies are at Bobby's drag show and Bobby finds Sheila "the She-Wolf" in the audience, she braces for the barrage of insults. But a Bobby in full on drag lets her know she is seen, and understood. It begins a beautiful mentorship and a glorious transformation.
Overall, this season is a rare case where I'm looking at a show and thinking they needed more episodes, not less, to do the stories and characters justice. The 6-month time jump in episode 9 really hits home as it skips over so much of the character arcs and finds some characters in surprising positions at this stage. This season could have easily ran 20 episodes. Also, I'm very disappointed in the show for even contemplating the Ruth-Sam ship. Yuck.
[1:43:42]
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The disaster at Chernobyl in 1986 was a big deal at the time, and remains a big deal, because radioactivity is something that spans eons not years. We all know of the Chernobyl disaster, but what do we really know about it? The events that spawned it? The effort to minimize its damage? The sacrifices made? The conspiratorial cover-up by the Soviet government (that led not just to the event in the first place, but the trauma inflicted on so many in combating the fire and the meltdown, and the ongoing effects felt across the continent)? Unless you've really spent time studying it, you likely don't know much. Not that this dramatization presents unfiltered truth, but it does lift the veil on the horrors of the disaster.
And this HBO mini-series is a straight up horror show. It uses horror movie stylizing and techniques to make the audience uneasy with every single decision every character makes in the movie. But unlike your average zombie plague or slasher killer, there's no escaping the effects of the radiation, the silent killer at play. Either through disinformation, ignorance, or valiant bravery, nearly every character we meet is doomed (there's a lot of "don't go in there" yelling at the screen, especially in the first episode). Each episode unveils a new horror, from the immediate burn trauma of high radiation exposure, to the wafting irradiated smoke clouds reaching neighbouring cities and countries, to the long term effects of even minimal exposure, to the almost catastrophic effect of the meltdown which could have made most of Europe uninhabitable, to the necessity of killing and burying every animal within a wide radius of the plant, and clear cutting the forests and overturning the soil and burying both. The efforts, expense and man-hours required to contain the disaster are astronomical, almost unfathomable.
All of this is framed by the atrocious decision making of men in positions of power trying to save face rather than do what is right, or concede that for all their power they are, in fact, powerless in the face of the events unfolding before them. Like modern day politicians denying the monolithic disaster of climate change, these officials don't see a visible danger and thus deny its existence, placating a pliable populace through misinformation or absence of communication altogether.
It's a real condemnation of the communist political structure which is defined by the perception of control and strength. The real heroes were the patriots who worked diligently to evade disaster, and the scientists (most of whom are not represented in the show) who worked to uncover the truth about the events. The politicians, not the radiation, not nuclear science, are the real monsters of the piece.
I pretty much hate writing about anthologies - whether it's TV, movies, comics, books or even a various artists compilation/soundtrack - because it usually means having to break down each entry on its own because it's not a cohesive whole. Sketch comedy is basically a comedy anthology, and it's a real pain to review without working through highlights and lowlights.
I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson takes the ex-SNL featured player and ex-Detroiters co-creator and lets him loose with his surrealist exploration of absurd situations. So many of Robinson's sketches are about a large group of people entertaining a very absurd conversation, such as when a weinermobile crashes into a clothing shop and the guy in the hot dog suit tries desperately to deflect blame. It's funny. It very easily couldn't be, but it is funny, based not just on the conviction Robinson's hot dog costumed character tries to redirect the inquisition but also how the other characters even entertain the doubt he's presenting. This is one of Robinson's key formulas on this show (but not the only one).
Some sketches which could so easily be utter cringe comedy instead veer so headlong into absurdity that there's nothing cringe-inducing about them anymore. The very first sketch of the series finds a Robinson character exiting a job interview at a coffee shop and trying to save face when he pushes the door instead of pulls, and keeps forcing the door the wrong way as if he made no mistake at all in an ill-advised attempt at saving face.
The first episode sketch, "Baby of the Year" is perhaps the show's top sketch, which is a baby beauty pageant where everyone - from the host (Detroiters co-creator Sam Richardson) to the judges to the audience - takes the competition so direly serious (people yelling "Fuck You" at the rebel baby Harley Jarvis is so stupidly hilarious, I love it).
There are a handful of absolute gems in I Think You Should Leave's 29 sketches, and, actually, no real duds. I like the fact that Netflix lets the series live in its own time, with each episode varying between 15 and 20 minutes. I guess I have to say I Think You Should Leave never overstays its welcome.
[unknown -- lost track of time]
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Full disclosure - I wrote this over multiple sessions, did some correction work, and added some additional thoughts after the fact. I certainly put in more than 10 minutes per review defeating the point of this whole 10-4-10 thing.
Striking Vipers - d. Owen Harris
Smithereens - d. James Hawes
Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too - d. Anne Sewitzky
It's interesting to me that even though The Twilight Zone has returned, its spiritual successor Black Mirror is still dominating the conversation as far as anthologies go. At this point it seems like what people want out of an anthology TV show is scathing criticism of modern culture, not just "what-a-twist" stories set in slightly askew alternate realities. The Twilight Zone, even in its modern incarnation, is a relic. Black Mirror is now the gold standard TV anthologies are compared to.
And yet, much of the conversation on this latest season of Charlie Booker's generally damning look at society and technology, is how it seems to have fallen off. Much of the criticism is that it's relatively toothless compared to what it used to be, that it's gotten softer or gentler. This is likely the San Junipero effect, a result of that episode standing as the show's highest watermark, generally topping most episode ranking lists and earning a bunch of Emmys. But the question is, does that episode stand so much higher as result of how generally bleak the show is? If we have more episodes that don't end on such a dour, sour, or sickening ending, does that mean Booker and the show is losing its edge (... and do they make San Junipero less special)?
The answer is no. I think Booker is realizing the capabilities of the anthology format, the potential to tell any kind of story so long as it sticks to the central device of how does technology impact the story being told. Holding the mirror up to society doesn't necessarily always yield a negative result. Yet the thesis of the show is holding up a black mirror, intoning exploring those darker impulses.
With Striking Vipers, the exploration is multidimensional. It explores masculinity and sexual identity, it explores domestic boredom, it examines the idea of marital fidelity when it comes to video game/porn fixation. All of this is tied together through a video game, a virtual reality "Street Fighter"-style game called "Striking Vipers", where a player's mind is taken directly into the game (using technology last seen in the episode U.S.S. Callister).
While it does explore all these ideas (and more) it doesn't necessarily explore them well, or at least to their fullest extent. We start out years earlier in college when young, fresh faced Danny (Anthony Mackie) and his girlfriend Theo (Nicole Beharie) are living with his best friend Karl (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II). We see a semi solid foundation between Danny and Theo, but it's slightly usurped by Danny and Karl's "Striking Vipers" video game hang-out time, where they trash talk but also physically engage in a playful way. A decade or so later, Danny and Theo are suburban domesticated with a child and trying for another. Karl is living a bachelor's life but feeling thoroughly unfulfilled. They reunite after some distance at Danny's birthday where Theo presents him with the modern VR iteration of "Striking Vipers". Taken into the virtual reality world (body basically left behind, a blank-eyed, shuddering husk), the fighting game seems so real, the players feeling what their avatars feel.
The in-game reality of "Striking Vipers" is amusing. To see actual actors portray video game fighting characters and pull off some familiar fighting maneuvers without the veil of exaggerated animation is surprising and laughable, almost it's own weird counter-uncanny valley where it's too real, where we're so used to it being cartoony, and therefore too unbelievable and kind of jarring. But it's that reality on top of the surreality that's necessary, reminding us that there are two men inhabiting these avatars, and that they're experiencing what the characters are experiencing. The fighting is very physical, but also exceptionally playful. Danny and Karl (as "Lance" and "Roxette") are having a blast, escaping their reality, rekindling their friendship, and evoking more care-free days. But their avatars, built with sex appeal in mind, draw them closer together, and the game permits nature to take its course.
Questions arise, like, is this part of the game's design? Was this actually the game's intention? Is the game influencing the players in their actions and feelings? What does this mean for the men? Is there a real world attraction that this game allows them to fulfill? Does this make them gay? Or bi? Or something else altogether? What does this mean for Danny and Theo?
Initially this experience is jarring to the men, though Danny takes it harder than Karl, who just kind of shrugs it off and doesn't want to look too deeply at what it might mean. The men return to the game - and their relationship - repeatedly. Danny is rattled, upset with himself for being a possible adulterer, but also unable to deny the attraction he has to Karl/Roxette. Or is he just addicted to the game? Theo notices the change in Danny, and feels her own sense of domestication taking its toll on her psyche and physicality. She welcomes the advances of other men in Danny's absence.
I was never clear on what the episode was trying to say about sexual identity (an encounter between the two men IRL designed to determine whether they have feelings for each other can be interpreted multiple ways, purposefully obfuscated), and it felt to me like it wasn't committing to any specific thesis about the effects of porn or gaming addiction, or even in-game relationships, and instead of preaching anything specific (except perhaps open and honest communication) it uses these concepts as backdrop for its character-focused relationship story.
It's a really good, conceptually intriguing story. If there's Black Mirror bleakness it is all in Mackie's delivery of Danny as a man feeling guilty for feeling burdened by his life, and the conflict is largely in Danny's emotions. Has he fallen in love with Karl? Does he love Karl more than Theo? Is he only attracted to Karl as Roxette? Is he addicted to the game, the relationship, or the relationship in the game? There's so many permutations of how these feelings shake out, the show doesn't have enough time to parse them all.
We also don't spend enough time with Karl to work through how he perceives his own sexuality. He's put up a barrier between how he thinks about who he is in the game and in the real world. His gender-bending avatar and the feeling he gets being Roxette and making love as her is intoxicating. The game should force him to explore what it means for his own sense of self, but he seems to deny the impulse.
Theo, mercifully, is not the nagging wife, but instead the compassionate and understanding one. The suburban ennui Danny is feeling, she feels it too, and the show makes it clear that women and men handle such things differently. More than anything she wants honesty, and it's Danny who struggles to understand what his truth is. It would have been nice to spend more time with Theo as well. This ep could easily be a stand-alone dramatic movie, expanded out by half an hour or more to give more exploratory time, to better examine the themes and characters.
Less vague in its critique of technology (and society) is Smithereens. The story is effectively a modernized version of Joel Schumacher's Falling Down which starred Michael Douglas as a middle-aged man struggling to cope with a changing society and his own stress and trauma. Here Andrew Scott stars as a London Uber-type driver who takes an employee of the social media company Smithereens hostage, hoping to talk with the company's founder (played by Topher Grace).
Scott is a grieving widower, and too emotional to execute his half-baked kidnapping/hostage-taking plan with any real efficiency. It's darkly comedic how much of a fuckup he is in this twisted scenario. His hostage (played by Damson Idris) looks the part of a corporate exec, but turns out he's just a young intern. The desperation and anxiousness seeps out of Scott as he still attempts to make the best out of a worsening situation. The tone, more than the message, is where this parallels Falling Down specifically. The desperation of a hurting man leads to jagged humour and awkward (rather than harrowing) tension.
Unlike Douglas' bitter character in Schumacher's film though, Scott's role is sympathetic from the get go. He's not pushed to his limit, so much as he doesn't know what else he can do, what other statement to make. His road to getting to finally converse with Grace's billionaire CEO is a roundabout one, being routed through different corporate staff at Smithereens while also getting UK police and the FBI involved.
The message here is simply that social media has become an addiction, and that it was by design. Grace's mea culpa as the creator was that his brainchild got away from him, that corporate structures took over, commoditized the product and tailored it to make it the way it is. If it seems like it's offering Mark Zuckerberg an out, it kind of is, but at the same time, it's an honest truth. In making an engagement product into a money-earning venture, the natural path is to seek a way to maximize earnings at any expense. It's less a damning of social media or smart phones than the structures that have made them an omnipresent part of our life. And the point here is even the creator and CEO of said product can't move the machine to change it. Once you become answerable to shareholders, basically only money talks. It's a cold, callous system utterly unconcerned with its effect on the world.
The fact that the Smithereens corporations pulls out more details and insight into Scott's character than the police do, and in much less time, is perhaps the most unsettling part. This private company, winds up talking to the police as if they're adorable infants who just learned how to use a spoon for the first time...they're patronizing and represent the danger of giving over so much of ourselves over to private corporations (which we seem ever-willing to do).
This is a pretty basic story overall, but expertly executed and very engaging. It's a hostage thriller that's a little preachy and perhaps even obvious but it's actually not just about "put your phone down, kids", it's also about how dismissive we are to these calls to examine the things we're addicted to, and the show's final mid-credits moments address that with perfect fleeting indifference. Scott, Idris and Grace are all very compelling, and the stark differences between downtown London, English countryside, west coast boardrooms and pretentious desert isolation retreats are all visually alluring in their own way.
Rachel, Jack and Ashley Too is basically Black Mirror by way of a Family Channel drama. Seriously, this wouldn't feel out of place as part of the Olsen Twins direct-to-video oeuvre.
Rachel is the new girl at a new school in a new town. She's shy, withdrawn and really, really into pop star Ashley O. Her sister, Jack, is the slightly edgier, more rebellious one, but all things considered, still very responsible and looking out for her sister. Their widower father is building a better mouse trap, almost literally, in that he's working on a technological, more humane solution to rodent problems (though what that solution is besides TASERing the mouse and relocating the vermin is a mystery).
Ashley O, meanwhile, is one of the world's biggest pop stars. So huge, someone thought what people would like is an "Alexa"-like smarthome bot with Ashely's personality was a great idea. Ashley is trapped under her controlling aunt and feels stifled by the infamy and pressures of maintaining pop stardom. When she starts rebelling against her aunt and handlers, things don't go well for her.
Meanwhile Rachel is enthralled with her Ashely Too digital companion. Ashely Too is very positive minded, always uttering positive statements to Rachel, and being supportive and encouraging, but Ashley Too is also always on brand, asking Rachel if she'd like to hear a song or watch a video or hear an Ashely story. There's something to be said about the failings of perpetual positivity (unfortunately this episode doesn't focus that much on it).
In what is essentially the third act of the episode real Ashley falls into a coma and Rachel's Ashley Too has a bit of meltdown upon hearing the news. When the girls try to fix it, Ashley Too becomes fully awake with the complete mind map of the real Ashley, which had heretofore been hindered by restraining code. At this point, there's just wacky shenanigans which see the girls and Ashley Too breaking into Ashley's house, fending off her abusers, rescuing her and stopping the big presentation her Aunt is making. It's presented as high stakes, but it's real low ball stuff.
There seems to be a purposefully juvenile quality to the style of storytelling, one that's juxtaposed with Ashley Too's unfiltered, curse-laden persona. I think, more than anything, that's the point, having a cute robot of a teen idol pop star voiced by Hanna Montana curse up a blue streak in what's otherwise an above average youth-focused TV movie. There's real weight to the first act, a real sadness to Rachel as she tries to navigate her new life. Likewise there's a darkness to the neon-pink haired pop icon that she has to keep contained, one that really likes Nine Inch Nails. It's the second act introduction of Ashely Too that starts shifting the tone in the direction of a feel good teen flick, but one that ends with frustration and tears. Ultimately the third act resolves in unlikely and surreal glee, with Ashley and Jack playing a club gig performing what sounds exactly like what you think Miley Cyrus singing NiN's "Head Like A Hole" would sound like, with horrified Ashley O fans running screaming from the bar.
The message here, if there is one, is that putting your pop star niece into a coma with a drug overdose then, using improbable brain scanning technology, retrieving "songs" from her unconscious brain and manipulating those "songs" to sound like every other song in her catalog, and then using her tragedy for brand and financial gain, you know, is probably a bad thing. I'm not sure what other message there is to take. It's probably the least Black Mirror-y episode of Black Mirror and yet, it's still somehow an enjoyable, if slight hour of viewing, and far from the series' worst.
What's interesting about this season is that generally the critical response to it has been very uneven... there's no consensus on which episode is the best/worst. I've seen cases made for all three on either side, and they're mostly all right and just as wrong. What makes Black Mirror so great is that even when it's being just mediocre it's still exceptionally thought provoking, with enough ideas or insight to inspire discussion and even debate. The horror aspect of the series has been greatly toned down this season, however, and that seems to be what people are lamenting. They don't just want to be entertained, and they don't want just a slight nudge towards the darker edges... they want that mirror to reality to be black as can be. It's what National Anthem set up, a horrifying look at a reality that can be, easily, very, very twisted.
