It’s stuffy down here. And it smells like a cheap motel room. And I feel slightly heavier than normal. What is going on? Oh, I get it. I’m at the bottom of the pile. Wait…why am I on the floor? He’s never just thrown me on the floor before. He must be drunk. I can’t think of any other reason why he’d let me soak up the nastiness of what’s beneath me and let me be buried under other people’s belongings. Aside from the cheap perfume, God knows what obscenities lurk in these other coats. I’ve learned about germs…I’ve seen him wash his hands enough to know that other people and their belongings cannot be trusted. So, where the hell is he? And why is it so loud in here? I already know I’m going to stink something fierce when we get out of here. I hope he gets me dry cleaned. I’m gonna need a thorough cleansing after this. Wait, why am I bitching? He hardly ever wears me anymore. I guess I should be grateful he took me out of that closet for a change. Talk about stuffy. Plus, I’ve gotten so bored of the other coats in there. Except the leather one. He makes me laugh. I miss him during the winter, but he always returns with tons of new stories about his adventures and he has some priceless jokes to share. He’s so lucky to be made of leather…he ages with so much more character and style than the rest of us. It’s grueling while he’s away. The others don’t really talk much and when they do, it’s always complaints about how they haven’t been worn in sooooo long or, I can’t believe he spilled this on me and didn’t clean it up. If there’s one thing I can’t stomach, it’s a whiner. Makes me want to sew up my outside pockets so I don’t have to hear it anymore. Just let me hibernate in peace. Speaking of which, I hope he remembers to put me on a thicker hanger when he gets back. Last time, I got put on one of those cheap wire ones and my shoulders were hurting for weeks! First time he put me on, I was in so much pain it felt like the sleeves were going to rip off! Man, I’m getting restless down here. It’s starting to feel like I’m under a pile of damp blankets. Being folded in half doesn’t help. If only I could see better.
I hear a voice! Is the pile getting lighter? I think it is! I can almost see…hey, there he is! Oh yeah, he’s definitely drunk. Especially if he’s hitting on her. Come on, you can do better than that! She probably owns the coat on top of me that stinks like last week’s wine. And her voice is annoying! Please, God, don’t bring her home with us. Okay, good…looks like he’s getting ready to go. I can’t wait to get out of here and feel the cool breeze on my fabric. Hey, what the? That not the right coat! Don’t put that on! Why isn’t someone telling him that’s not the right one? It’s too short, and…is that a woman’s coat? It looks ridiculous on him…can’t he see that??!! Great...there he goes, straight out the door! What the Sam Hell am I going to do now? Surely he’ll realize he’s made a mistake and come back to rescue me from this godforsaken place. But what if he doesn’t? What will become of me? Will I be reduced to one of those coats that gets thrown into a lost and found, only to become an orphan? I could end up crumpled into a ball at the bottom of some box with all the other rejects! Forever! Okay, slow down a little…you’re panicking. That’s only natural, but it will pass. Everything will be fine. Once he sobers up, he’ll be back. Just keep telling yourself that. Just keep repeating that over and over and over…
He’s not coming. It has to have been hours by now, and there’s hardly anyone still here. Except for that creepy guy across the room that keeps eyeing me. I can’t believe no one else has noticed me over here on the floor. But it is dark in here. Maybe once the lights come on, one of the staff will find me. Although the idea of lost and found repulses me, I’d much rather go there than anywhere with this dude. He keeps looking over here like he wants to buy me a drink. If only I could stare back. Or give him the finger. Finally, everyone’s leaving! Oh no…he’s coming over here. Maybe he’s just paying. That’s it…his tab is at the bar and…HEY! What the fuck??!! Put me down, asshole! Ow! Careful! You’re gonna rip the sleeves! Any knucklehead can see that I’m way too small to fit you. When he puts his arms down this is gonna hurt! AHHH!! Did I just feel a rip? I think I did! But where? I can’t exactly place it…damn, it’s cold out here! Where the fuck are we going? This is seriously your car? God bless, that hurt! You stupid assclown! You just shut part of my tail in the door. Oh, look at you! You can barely steer…was that another rip? I can’t believe this is happening! I could not imagine anything being worse than the time candle wax got spilled on me, but DING DING!
I’m not sure how old I am (although given how easily I ripped when my abductor jammed his arm in the sleeve, I’m guessing I’ve been around a while). The first moment I was aware of my existence came when I experienced a burst of pain as a label was being stitched inside of me. I figured it was there for my benefit, as it displayed my name, “Hugo Boss.” I assume that means I am royalty, as I’ve met many other coats over the years, and no one has ever had a name with the same amount of power and stamina as mine. In fact, all I have to say is “Boss” and I can see the other coats quiver on their hangers. It could be that and my domineering appearance. I am what is referred to as a “topcoat,” so I have broad shoulders (not unlike a football player) and my tail nearly touches the floor. I overheard once that I am made from a mixture of cashmere and wool, and even though I don’t know what those are, they sound very sophisticated (I’ve seen impressed looks on faces when my owner said the word “cashmere”). After my first memory, the next thing I recall is being inside a bag. I couldn’t see or hear anything…it caused me to panic at first, but after a while, I got used to it. After all, it was pretty much all I’d ever known.
I had no real concept of time back then, so God knows how long it was before that bag got unzipped. But once it did, I saw the face of my owner, and boy, was he happy to lay eyes on me! He wore me practically every time he went out in those days, and always hung me up next to the other exotic coats. It felt so good to be in the company of class. We’d share stories about where we’d been, and I have to admit I was envious of how much of the world some of those coats had seen. I was pretty much used to seeing the same three or four places my owner liked to frequent. I’m not dissing him mind you, as he did like to throw in a curveball every so often and go somewhere new and exciting. I was his favorite for a while, and I remember the sadness in the leather coat’s voice when he’d tell me about how often he used to be worn. His days of sorrow ended though, and the owner started taking him everywhere again and only broke me out on special occasions. And even then, he hardly hung me up anymore. I’d even take one of those nasty wire hangers over being folded up or tossed over a chair. But that’s what he’d do. To make matters worse, he even started leaving things in my pockets! It gets hard to see or speak clearly when you’ve got wads of paper crammed into every opening you’ve got!
That had become the story of my life: barely worn, pockets filled, tossed around. I’d seen a bigger resurgence lately, which was awesome since the leather coat was always resting on one of his chairs, meaning we never got to talk. That left me stuck with the endless whiners, and I was ready to find a way to pop my buttons off! But then I was part of my owner’s life again! One night, he even shared me with another person who was cold, each of them using one of my sleeves. That proved to be new and exhilarating, as it was the closest I had ever been to a woman (granted I had been lucky enough to chat with a few women’s coats before). I can say without hesitation she smelled a hell of a lot better than he did, and maybe I’m only saying that because he’d been wearing the same overpowering scent for all the time I’d been with him. But whatever…it was better than being stuck in the closet. And that leads up to tonight, when first, I was flung over a chair. My collar touched the floor, and unbeknownst to my owner, I was stepped on several times. Then he takes me somewhere and throws me on the floor, under a counter, where I get lost under a pile of other coats! I should have seen the outcome of this…
We’re finally stopping, thank CHRIST! Get me out of here…I don’t even care where we are. I just want to get away from this rancid stench. I just realized that I can’t even feel the part of my tail that got smashed in the door. Guess it was for the best. I must look a mess. I don’t even want to know. Where the fuck are we? OW!!! Thanks, asshole! You open the door, and NOW I can feel my tail again. And it’s all slimy! This is Hell! I am in Hell! I died under that pile of other coats and now I’ve gone to the most unsavory of places, and for what? I tried so hard to be a good coat, to not be too judgmental and at least acknowledge the other coats in the closet! I mean, come on, is it really my fault that I’m royalty? I didn’t ask for the Hugo Boss tag. Some human did, so why aren’t they the one being punished instead of me? It’s okay, Boss. Take it easy. Let’s see where this guy is taking us. Couldn’t be any worse than that death trap we were just in.
I guess I should eat those words…what a shithole. My owner’s place is no palace, but it is compared to this. Seriously? A box for a table? No wonder he’s stealing someone else’s coat. I’m amazed he could even afford to buy a drink there. He probably didn’t…bet my cashmere ass that he put them on some poor sap’s dime. I’ve seen the type. How many times is he going to wander around this room? For the love…I just wish he’d take me off! At least then I might be able to guess where I’ve been ripped. Blech…it smells like a sewer in here! I know you’ve got to be wondering how I could possibly know what a sewer (or anything else for that matter) smells like. And I reckon I owe you an explanation on how I can talk. Simple…I learned from listening to my owner talk to other people, and from the other coats in the many closets (and piles) I’ve spent time in. You could say it was equal to the combination of a baby learning to speak and studying a foreign language. Having both methods made me fluent, by my calculations, fairly quick. As for knowing when something smells bad, well, I’ve heard enough from my owner and been in enough situations to mirror his experiences to tell you to trust me when I say I know when something has a foul stench.
So, as I was saying, this place takes the cake when it comes to bad smells. In fact, saying it resembles a sewer might be too generous. Oh…careful, CAREFUL. Well, this is unexpected. He’s hanging me up…and in a closet, no less. Whoopty Doo! I wish I had legs and could dance! Cheap plastic hangers…figures. Now, about these rips…yep, just as I thought. Both of my sleeves are torn at the top, and…shit, the left side at the bottom. At least they’re both still attached. I’m sure there are plenty of coats out there that don’t have the same luxury…and I’m staring right at one. I’m in the presence of two other coats, one brown corduroy, patches on the sleeves, both of which have multiple safety pins holding them on (sloppily, I must say). The other is a lightweight thing, gray (I think?) with a tag that reads, “Members Only.” For such an official sounding name, it sure looks cheap. Should I be nice and talk to them? Maybe I can at least get an idea of how long they’ve been here. But one glance at the state of them doesn’t give me much hope for getting out of this…oh God, am I going to end up like that corduroy?? Tattered and old and pinned up?? Try not to think about it. Just keep your wits, and at least see if we can pump these two for information.
Hugo Boss: “Greetings! My name is Hugo Boss. How long have you guys been stuck here?”
Corduroy (in a low, broken down voice): “Hugo Boss, huh? There used to be another Hugo Boss here…was quite a bit shorter than you and was a lighter color. Had more tears too, after the Master wore him a bunch.”
Another Hugo Boss?? I’d heard rumors of others, but never had come across a coat that’d actually met one. I was intrigued and freaked out at the same time.
Hugo Boss: “Where is he now?”
Corduroy: “You got me. Last time we saw him, he was lookin’ pretty ragged. Most of his buttons were gone and the pockets were ripped. Probably wouldn’t have done anyone much good. Probably ended up in a dumpster somewhere, or under the Master’s bed."
Members Only: “It’s true. The Master likes fancy coats like you. Think he just kept me for novelty value.”
Hugo Boss: “What does that mean?”
Corduroy: “He was popular at one point in time, and there aren’t a lot of his kind around anymore. That’s why the Master never wears him. He doesn’t wear me much. I was afraid I was going to wind up like poor ole Hugo Boss, but then he put me in here and now here you are.”
Great. Just great. I was going to be worn until I was withered into shreds, and there wasn’t a blasted thing I could do about it. Yep, I was right. This is Hell.
Hugo Boss: “It’s probably pretty stupid to ask if there’s a way to get out of here. Anyone else who might come along and take us?”
Members Only: “Doubt it. If so, they’d be just like him. You think someone who would really wear a coat like you would have anything to do with him?”
Hugo Boss: “Good point. So, basically, you’re telling me we’re fucked.”
Members Only: “What does that mean?”
Hugo Boss: “We’re doomed.”
Members Only: “Yep. Well, you are. The Master digs me…thinks I’m gnarly, so I know I’ll always looks like this.”
As ugly as Members Only was, at least he was still in one piece. Lucky bastard.
Hugo Boss: “What is ‘gnarly’?”
Members Only: “Just a word my first owner used to say when he really liked something. Guess it just stuck with me. Where were you before this? Did a President wear you?”
Hugo Boss: “Ha! If only…My owner lives in a small space and had dinner with common looking people. Not the life I was expecting, but it sure as hell was better than this.”
Members Only: “Corduroy here was royalty.”
Hugo Boss: “No shit? Do tell!”
Corduroy: “Not much to tell…don’t remember anything before the Master brought me here. We believe I was royalty because I had some kind of a fancy crest on my pocket here.”
Sure enough, there was the outline of where a patch had clearly been. The area was now much lighter and flatter than the weary remains surrounding it.
Hugo Boss: “That’s strange. How do you not remember what happened before?”
Members Only: “His label’s gone. I’ve been in enough closets to know that if you lose your label, everything about you goes with it.”
That chilled every bit of my wool and cashmere existence, and made me wish I could do something to make sure my label was stitched on as tight as possible. Who knew where Corduroy’s label had fallen, and what if it had been put on another coat? Another coat could be living his life now, spreading his memories! I couldn’t imagine waking up all of the sudden to discover I had gone from a well-respected top coat, to some imitation knock off. Talk about an identity crisis! I’d heard horror stories before of coats whose labels were stolen and used on cheap coats to pass them off as “sophisticated.” I was thoroughly surprised that this was the first I’d heard losing your label meant losing your mind! My situation was getting worse by the moment. But then as I started to ponder on it more, I began to realize that maybe losing my label wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If I was going to end up like that other poor Hugo Boss coat, at least I could do it without having any memory of the coat I’d once been. At least I could get rid of the psychological pain, right? God, this was getting depressing.
I took what might be considered the equivalent of a deep breath and attempted to accept my fate. And then I got angry as I began to think about my owner prancing around town with some other coat on. While I was stuck spending the rest of my days in a musty closet, this other coat, probably confused as hell, is having the time of its life and if they aren’t, at least they are with normal people. How could he have been so fucking careless? I hope he misses me. I hope he goes back to that place and is colossally upset when I’m not there. Serves him right…I was the best coat that ever happened to him. He’ll never have another as comfortable and warm as me. He doesn’t deserve it! Not after this. He can freeze for all I care. Oh shit…what if he does get a new coat that’s warmer than me? What if he gets another Hugo Boss? And then moves into a big house and goes to exquisite places and that coat gets to experience all those luxuries while I’m falling to pieces in here? And who knows how many other coats will fill these empty hangers? Why if I end up the only coat and there’s no one left to talk to? The only real hope at this point is that this guy, the Master as the others called him, wears me somewhere and forgets me. That’s the best possible scenario…it’s the only one.
I’m alone…have been for what feels like an eternity. I’m not sure exactly when the other coats were taken. It’s been so long I barely remember what they looked like anymore. I seem to recall a blazer with patches on the sleeves. Yeah, that sounds right. The closet opened, a shadowy figure took him, hanger and all, and that was the last time I saw him. The other one, which was not a blazer (and that’s all I can really say about it), just disappeared. Coats can’t sleep, but I must have been in a daze, since I have no recollection of when the other coat left the closet. I just remember he was gone and it was just me. My consciousness is getting weaker by the moment…not sure if it’s because the tears in my sleeves were never mended, or because I’ve been alone such a long time. God, how I wish I could take my patch off and start fresh. It wouldn’t help in the long run, but at least I’d get to have some kind of a new beginning. Wait…what was that? That’s the first sound I’ve heard on the other side of the door in quite some time. It’s loud, like someone is banging on the wall. Was that a scream? What were those pops? WHOA! Now there are holes in the door! Oh man, how glorious it is to see light! Someone’s coming. A person! Is that the Master? Wait, what do I care? Please just take me out of here! What’s he looking for? He’s not wearing a coat, so he needs to be looking at ME! YES!!! Careful, now! I can’t believe it…sunlight! My tired old…whatever I’m made out of has missed you so much! I’m FREE!!! I’m FREE!!! I’m…
What was I saying?
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c) Hell and Beyond, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
The Existential Weight of the Human Heart: Lee's Best Movies of 2013
When trying to tie the best movies of 2013 together, and there are a lot of them, I found myself struggling to find a universally common thread. However, as I started to look closely at the movies that kept me going back to them, the ones that moved me the most, I found among them a deep existential yearning that is as heartbreaking as it is exhilarating. The movies that resonated the most with me involved people working to find their place in this world, to discover their purpose. As someone who still grapples with this regularly, I could relate and more importantly, empathize. I had a strange year and the movies, as they often do, helped me through it. Cheers to that. And to a new movie year. See you there!
-Lee
Wish I Could Forget (in alphabetical order): Dead Man Down, Don Jon, Father's Day, A Good Day to Die Hard, Man of Steel, Now You See Me, Sushi Girl, White House Down
Wish I'd Loved (in alphabetical order): 12 Years a Slave, American Hustle, Antiviral, The Bling Ring, Captain Phillips, Pacific Rim, The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, The Spectacular Now, Stoker, To the Wonder
Notably Missed (in alphabetical order): Carrie, Leviathan, Like Someone in Love, Museum Hours
Honorable Mention (in alphabetical order): The Act of Killing, Dark Skies, Drinking Buddies, Enough Said, Gravity, The Last Stand, Maniac, Much Ado About Nothing, Post Tenebras Lux, Side Effects, Star Trek: Into Darkness, This is Martin Bonner, This is the End, V/H/S 2, Warm Bodies, The Wolf of Wall Street, You're Next
20-11
20) Sightseers dir. Ben Wheatley
19) Frances Ha dir. Noah Baumbach
18) Drug War dir. Johnnie To
17) Mud dir. Jeff Nichols
16) Fruitvale Station dir. Ryan Coogler
15) Being Awesome dir. Allen C. Gardner
14) Only God Forgives dir. Nicolas Winding Refn
13) Stories We Tell dir. Sarah Polley
12) Nebraska dir. Alexander Payne
11) The Lords of Salem dir. Rob Zombie
TOP TEN
10) The Lone Ranger dir. Gore Verbinski
The action scenes are effortlessly and epically staged, the visuals are striking, and the western roots are honored, satirized, and critiqued...sometimes all at once. The Lone Ranger is quite a tricky beast indeed, and proves that Verbinski, between this and Rango, could make a hell of a career out of crafting offbeat westerns. And while it might first appear that Johnny Depp is giving yet another one of his goofy "Johnny Depp" performances...well, I challenge you to look closer. This is an exciting, funny, and subversive picture, one of the boldest summer movies in many a moon, and one I will expand on in an article in the near future. Stay tuned...
9) Computer Chess dir. Andrew Bujalski
Made on a micro budget (and shot with cameras from the 1960s) but packed with more ideas than a movie that costs ten times as much, Andrew Bujalski's latest is a sly and often bizarre comedy mixed with heady science fiction. It takes place during the early 1980s at a computer chess convention, and while the early conversations between the contestants are disorienting, it can't even compare to the surreal and downright creepy elements that come into play as the movie progresses. This is as creative an examination of the way our relationship to technology is affecting our interaction with others that I have seen.
8) We Are What We Are dir. Jim Mickle
Jim Mickle makes horror movies that are equal part character and atmosphere, with the latter usually having much to do with the behavior of the former. This is one of those rare remakes that made me forgot the original even existed, a story of fathers and daughters, responsibility and tradition, and decisions and consequences. It features a series of outstanding performances and a conclusion that, while I never saw it coming, is completely inevitable. I can't wait to see what Mickle and his writing partner, Nick Damici, tackle next.
7) Room 237 dir. Rodney Ascher
I wisely watched this for the first time directly after re-visiting The Shining, the result being that I just wanted to turn around and pop in the source material again. A collage of different theories, hidden symbols, and various meanings, Rodney Ascher's documentary, no matter how outlandish it may get, is such a joy because it, above all else, celebrates the magic of the movies. What can be more fun than following up a screening with a lengthy discussion about the many ideas buried underneath the surface? This movie is a tribute to that, tenfold. I hope more filmmakers follow Ascher's lead.
6) Spring Breakers dir. Harmony Korine
Harmony Korine's latest turns the American Dream of the party that never ends into a fever dream of the coming apocalypse. Beginning with a monster assault of footage containing college kids boozing it up on the beach, he then segue ways into the hypnotic journey of four girls searching for the ultimate vacation, one that involves drinking, drugs, and eventually, danger. James Franco mesmerizes as a drug dealer who takes these paradise hungry girls under his wing. It's a movie filled with unforgettably haunting imagery, much of it vividly displaying the quick and undeniable loss of innocence.
5) Before Midnight dir. Richard Linklater
It's hard to believe that Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy have lived with these characters for almost twenty years, and what's even more remarkable is how, through the course of this series, each movie is better than the last. The first two pictures perfectly set the stage for this new (final?) chapter, as we finally witness what nine years together has done to Jesse and Celine. This is a truly wise portrait of what happens when a fantasy romance becomes real. It's about two people who love each other but are too stubborn to know how to properly show it. The idea of them being together was always more magical than the end result, a truth that is conveyed with unflinching honesty from one scene to the next. I sincerely hope this isn't the last time we see this couple.
4) Inside Llewyn Davis dir. Joel & Ethan Coen
Elegantly photographed, expertly performed, bleakly honest, and absurdly comic, the Coen Brothers' latest is also one of their very best (which is impressive considering they crank out one winner after another). It continues to show how expertly they handle period pieces, in this case 1960s Greenwich Village, where a struggling folk singer slaves away to (barely) make ends meet. The quest for success with your art is an endless one, a cycle that includes lots of couch surfing, dive bars, and rejection. And in the case of Llewyn Davis, you do it because it's the only thing you know how to do. Like all the best Coen Brothers pictures, it's beautiful, comic, and ultimately, melancholy.
3) Upstream Color dir. Shane Carruth
A gorgeous and poetic puzzle of a movie, filled to the brim with ideas and scenes of subtle sublimeness. It approaches the role of nature in ways that are wholly original, and shows the rebirth of oneself and the discovery of a relationship with tenderness and compassion. Shane Carruth wrote, directed, edited, scored, and stars in the movie, and each role is handled with the love and respect of someone with a true adoration for the medium. Here's hoping he doesn't wait nine more years before his next feature. If that turns out to be the case, it will only mean more time to continue unlocking the many secrets of this one.
2) The World's End dir. Edgar Wright
What a bonus that the best time I had at the movies all year was also one of the most poignant. Simon Pegg gives a career best performance as a man pushing 40, obsessed with completing an adolescent challenge that was left unfinished. The movie begins as a painful portrait of lost youth and then, without warning, shifts gears into a breathlessly staged genre picture. The two sections fit together so well because director Edgar Wright, as he has in his other movies, uses the spectacle as a backdrop for a character's growth. As splendid as it has been in his past efforts, I don't think it's had quite the sonic impact it does here. The final scene of The World's End is one of the few this year that made me tear up. I wasn't expecting that, and I'm all the more grateful for it.
1) Her dir. Spike Jonze
I believe it was about the time Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix) first meets his operation system, Samantha (Scarlett Johansson), that an emotional wave swept over me, and it stood its ground for the rest of the movie. Spike Jonze, working from his first original script, accomplishes the hefty feat of creating a believable relationship between a man and a computer. He does so by making Samantha, who is only a voice, into a complex, smart, and sympathetic being. We can sense how her evolution is affecting who she is becoming, even if Theodore doesn't understand her anymore than she understands him or he understands himself. The core of the picture revolves around a future society where relationships are broken and technology has finally created such a large gap in human interaction that true love has become a distant memory. Real connections are met with fear, and how could they not be? It's easier to get close to something that has no expectations of you. Her observes these themes with overwhelming clarity, managing at the same time to create a very moving rapport between the lonely and confused Theodore and Samantha, at times even making us forgot she's just a voice in a machine. I was spellbound and heart broken by every moment of it, thanks in part to the dynamic performances (particularly Johansson's) but more because of Jonze's ability to write dialogue that is strikingly personal yet identifiable. This is the best kind of love story; one that has truth, consequences, pain, and most importantly, tinges of hope. It is my favorite movie of year, and one of the best of the decade thus far. If another movie is able to consume me more than this one, I might not be able to bear it.
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c)Hell and Beyond, 2014
Sunday, December 8, 2013
The Weight of the World: Bryan Singer's Superman Returns
ARTICLE CONTAINS MULTIPLE SPOILERS
It seems like most of the conversations I had regarding Man of Steel were followed by the other party remarking how it righted the wrongs of Superman Returns, a statement I find quite baffling. I found Zack Snyder's film to have a handful of nice moments before it turned into a symphony of wall-to-wall noise and explosions, and the trailer for his follow-up, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, suggests more of the same. Superman Returns was on my ten best list of 2006. I remember it being well received by critics...so why all the hate? I decided it was time to go back and see if I still held the same feelings that I had seven years ago. Since I've been defending it so much lately, thankfully I did.
It's obvious from the first moment that director Bryan Singer deeply respects the character of Superman. The picture opens showing Krypton with voice over narration by Jor-El (audio of Marlon Brando, who played the character in the 1978 movie), who tells his son, "Make my life your own," and "The son becomes the father, the father becomes the son." The scene transitions into the iconic score by John Williams, with the credit font mirroring that of the earlier pictures. Superman Returns is soaked in nostalgia, but not just for the sake of it. This early dialogue beautifully sets up the key themes of the movie: a son wracked with sadness over the father he never knew, and taking on a role he can never fully understand. It's the reason why Superman (Brandon Routh) is absent at the movie's start; he got word that his home planet may still be out there, so he had to find out if it was true. Five years have passed. Many viewers complained that it doesn't make sense that he would be gone that long after discovering Krypton was really destroyed. Why wouldn't he be? The sobering fact that you are the last of your kind, therefore leaving you with no one to identify with, is about as painful as it gets (being assured "Even if you're the last, you're not alone" doesn't seem comforting enough). I'd like to think Superman's been wandering every inch of the universe, alone with his thoughts and pondering if Earth is really a place worth saving.
His return to Earth is the first of many awe aspiring visual moments in the picture. Martha Kent's (Eva Marie Saint) house begins to rumble, and we get a quick shot of a Scrabble board with the word "Alienation" (which is coming apart). She runs outside to find a ship similar to the one Superman arrived in as a baby. It's a wonderful moment, seeing him enter the world as an adult the same way he did as a child. Just as lovely is a following scene where he remembers first discovering his powers. There was a true sense of joy in this kid learning what he was capable of and how to control it. The grown-up Superman wears an expression that longs for those days, when his true responsibility had not been revealed yet. Another dimension is added to his worries as he flips channels on television, and sees how chaotic planet Earth has become in his absence.
Superman decides to go back to the life he had before, which means posing as Clark Kent and working at The Daily Planet. Routh, who is basically channeling Christopher Reeve here (and resembles him fairly well, expect that he's a little too glossy looking), does a nice job showing how bad Superman is at "pretending" to be an average human (a scene midway through the movie of him eating a sandwich is priceless). Stopping by Lois Lane's (Kate Bosworth) desk teaches him that she's found a man, had a son, and written a Pulitzer Prize winning article about "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman." This creates a deeper sense of loneliness for Superman; he is so awkward at connecting with others personally, and she was the closest thing he had to a real relationship (aside from his parents). One of the saddest elements of Superman Returns is how bleakly it shows how this character is destined to always be alone. It's why at one point, his arctic home is described as a "fortress of solitude." There isn't a person on Earth who will be able to truly connect with him; rescuing the people of Earth is all he has left to live for.
Saving people is an act that seems to bring him some amount of happiness, since they are grateful to have him there. After intercepting a crashing plane, he lands it on a baseball field and is met by a wave of applause (this action sequence, the first in the picture, is breathlessly staged). This is the first moment Superman and Lois see each other again, but it's as Clark that he meets her boyfriend, Richard (James Marsden). It's refreshing that he's a genuinely nice guy and a good father to Jason (Tristan Lake Leabu), who we will learn later is Superman's son. There's a nice unspoken tension between Richard and Superman that the movie presents in several fascinating scenes. One is a moment late in the picture where Superman saves Richard, Lois, and Jason from a sinking ship. He asks Richard, "Have you got them?," before letting the ship, which he is holding in one hand, go crashing to the water below. Another is when Richard watches as Superman scans an unconscious Lois for injuries. There's a lot of weight here, as we sense a mutual respect even though there is also jealousy. Even more than that, these events just remind Richard that he can't protect his family the way Superman can (as Richard and his loved ones peer through a round window as the ship sinks, there's look of helplessness on his face that breaks my heart).
Superman is envious that Richard can live a normal life and give Lois what she deserves. A sense of melancholy floats over a scene in which he spies on her house, listening and peeking through the walls. This leads to one of the movie's best moments. Superman flies to space, closes his eyes, and takes in all the suffering of the world below him. He hears the words of his father, who said it was his duty to save these people from themselves, the ultimate gift and curse. He describes it to Lois soon after as they float above the Earth ("I hear everything"). And in regards to being a savior, he solemnly states that everyday, he hears "people crying for one." As we see late in the movie, when he lifts a mass of land out of the ocean to throw it into space, the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders.
I like the chemistry between Superman and Lois in the movie. Some complained that Kate Bosworth was too young to play the role, but I was convinced (it might help that I never liked Margot Kidder...I felt like she was always overacting). Singer recreates the famous scene from the original movie where Superman surprises Lois on the roof and shows her the world from his perspective. This time, though, there's more tension, as this is the first moment they've spoken since Superman left without saying goodbye. Instead of simply showing Lois how the world looks from the sky, he shares, as I referenced above, the torment of having to listen to a planet covered in agony. The setup to the scene is stunningly romantic. Superman invites Lois to go with him, so she kicks her shoes off, stands on his feet, and puts her arms around him. They go up into the air slowly, circling in front of The Daily Planet Globe on top of the building, their eyes never leaving each other. It's one of many moments in Superman Returns that brings tears to my eyes. I mentioned Singer's nostalgia before, and here is another case where he does it with a skill and respect that we rarely witness.
So, during Jason's introduction, we question right away if he could be Superman's son. Singer has fun toying with us, having Richard say Jason is going to "grow up big and strong, just like his dad" and that he's "an 'A' in Science, but a 'D' in gym." We also see Jason using an inhaler, and at one point Lois lists off a fair number of medications that he's on. It's a clever touch, since Superman mating with a regular human would likely cause some chemical imbalance in their offspring. The first big clue we get that Jason is Superman's son comes in the same scene. It's a POV as Jason looks up at Clark and sees Superman on the television right above him, instantly realizing they are the same person. The scene where it is finally revealed is a masterpiece of slow building suspense. Lois and Jason are trapped on a yacht and being guarded. She tells him to go play the piano, and as he begins, a henchman takes off his hat to reveal a grotesque clown face tattooed to the back of his head. He goes and sits down next to Jason and joins him in playing "Chopsticks." It's a hell of a sequence, staged and edited with splendid gravitas. The henchman discovers Lois is trying to call for help and gets violent with her. That's when he gets creamed by the piano and Lois looks back to see Jason, still parked in the same spot. Interesting that Jason learns about his strength by killing someone, since Superman represents a sense of justice that does not involve taking a life. It's a shame we will never get a sequel to Superman Returns, largely because of the possibility of seeing Jason being taught about the responsibility his powers bring. That was a luxury Superman never had, so it fascinates to wonder how it would be explored.
One of the biggest surprises of Superman Returns, and it's not a bad one, is how incredibly serious it is in tone. Less visible are the lighter moments and banter that were sprinkled throughout the earlier pictures, especially in context to Superman's arch enemy, Lex Luthor (Kevin Spacey, the best he's ever been). Gene Hackman's Luthor often felt like a devious prankster (as does Jesse Eisenberg's portrayal in the upcoming Batman v Superman...he comes off more like The Joker than Lex Luthor), while Spacey's is just a vile son of a bitch. Look at how he's introduced in the first scene of the movie, hovering over the bed of a wealthy old woman. She's about to die, and as they hold hands (we see a close up of their wedding rings), she thanks him for providing "pleasure I've never known." This immediately clues us in to how patiently evil Luthor is and the lengths he'll go to get what he desires. She dies signing her will, leaving him everything, and after she dies, he leaves the room, takes a wig off, and throws it to a little girl, who screams in terror (is it because it's fake hair, or that now she knows he was a fraud? Maybe both?). Luthor's plan is to take the crystals from Superman's home and use them to create new continents, thus sinking the existing ones and leaving the survivors no choice but to populate this dark, dreary looking land (basically huge, black rocks). As Luthor sees it, "whoever controls technology rules the world." He loathes Superman for the power he possesses, and thinks that stealing it and using it to his advantage will make him more "godlike." There's a strangely unsettling scene where Luthor tests the crystal's power by using it on a model town, and we see in close up as a tiny train crashes into the residents below (this moment effectively conveys that Luthor's concern for the deaths of real people is about as deep as it is for these action figures). Fitting that as the demonstration is underway, the single ray of light coming into the room is shining right down on Luthor.
A lot of criticism was thrown at the absurdity of Luthor's plan, but given the level of how power hungry he's become and how desperate he is to prove it, I believed it. It is appropriate, then, that he brings up Prometheus, who seems to have been heavily influential to him. And just like Prometheus, Luthor is hungry to learn about science and his plan is one that overreaches its boundaries. The only difference is, instead of trying to better human kind, Luthor is only out to better himself. In the movie's most uncomfortable and ugly scene (and I mean that as a compliment), Luthor stabs Superman in the back with a piece of kryptonite (and breaks it off inside of him) and then lets his goons beat the now vulnerable Man of Steel to a pulp. It's the first time we've ever seen him this helpless, almost like a child, and it is here that Superman gets to experience the physical pain of the people he feels responsible for. And it's here too, as Superman is trying to crawl away from his attackers, that we see him at his most lonely. That this scene exists in a summer blockbuster is pretty ballsy. After being rescued by Richard and Lois, Superman flies up to the sun to restore his energy (and film critic Walter Chaw has commented on the brilliant "sun" and "son" allegory loaded into this image), only to risk his life by exposing himself to even more kryponite. Singer has Superman in the Christ pose as he falls from the sky. It could have played as a cheap shot, but it doesn't because it happens at a point in the picture where the movie has earned it. We have a full understanding (more so than we've ever had in another movie about this character) of who Superman is and why he deserves the godlike comparison.
There seemed to be a lot of disappointment about the fact that Superman and Luthor only share one scene in the movie together (and that they never have a climactic showdown). What would that have accomplished? Superman Returns has a lot more on its mind than just charting good against evil; this is a movie interested in spending time digging into the complex nature of these characters, giving them real purpose and identities and issues. It wants us to realize it's as difficult to be a villain as it is to be a hero, and sometimes just as difficult to be somewhere between the two. There aren't a lot of happy moments here. Not to say that the movie isn't fun, though. The action sequences are tremendously exciting, beginning with the plane rescue referenced earlier, followed by a badass encounter Superman has with a gatling gun, and a ship that is cut in half by one of Luthor's new continents. Singer is able to have his cake and eat it, too. One of the biggest reasons I respect the picture is because he ends it on such a quiet note. Not with a bunch of sound and fury, like Zack Snyder's Man of Steel, but with an elegantly composed scene where Superman goes to visit Jason knowing it's his son. He sits at the edge of Jason's bed, puts his hand on the boy's head, and repeats his father's words ("You will see your life through my life"). It's the crowning moment of a movie filled with crowning moments, a poignant scene of a father giving his son the only advice he ever received. It's all he's ever known. Learning to be Superman was something he had to tackle himself, as he never had anyone to give him guidance. The last scenes are hopeful and sad. Lex Luthor may still be out there somewhere (we last see him marooned on a tiny island that makes for a winning juxtaposition to the dreary land he was going to replace it with), but Superman is, as he says, "always around," a statement that hints that maybe his son will have the father he never did. The picture ends with the same shot as the earlier ones, with Superman slowly drifting through space, but before it gave the connotation that yes, he will always be there watching over us. This time, it's also lined with sorrow, because now we know what he feels when he's up there, and it's combined with the knowledge that he has to live with it alone.
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c)Hell and Beyond, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
Indie Memphis Film Festival: Randy Moore's Escape from Tomorrow
Jim (Roy Abramsohn) begins the last day of his rocky family vacation with chilly wife, Emily (Elena Schuber), and his bratty children (Katelynn Rodriguez and Jack Dalton) by receiving some unfortunate news. The moment he hangs up the phone, the ticker for the time bomb starts, as the rest of the day will consist of Jim slowly losing a grip on everything, and it's made worse by the fact he has to spend it at "The Happiest Place on Earth." It's obvious that even before the morning's phone call the trip was a drag for Jim. But as soon as he and his family enter the park, his mind unravels. Moore's decision to shoot in black and white is ingenious, because it strips away all the happy and appealing colors and gives the good cheer a condescending, dangerous quality. It's as if we're seeing this world through Jim's tainted eyes. Things get worse once the family starts going on rides; the sunny characters on display develop demonic eyes, and Jim's family members began to say hateful things to him (perhaps his psyche's way of accepting that he is tired of being a husband and a father, both of which are shown through his actions).
Later in the course of Jim's surreal day, a strange lady tells him that you can't be happy all the time, a statement that perfectly sums up Escape from Tomorrow. The desire of the Disney parks to basically force feed happiness down its visitors' throats is what sends Jim over the edge. It becomes difficult to tell what he actually is experiencing and what is a hallucination, but what is clear is that he's having a negative reaction to the vibe of his surroundings. Moore makes the situations Jim finds himself in weirder and weirder, with some being more successful than others. A highlight is a visit to a nurse's office that would fit perfectly into a Lynchian Universe, as is a night time ride on a tram that is lit only by a Mickey Mouse balloon. Less effective is a scene involving a lab and a bizarre mind reading session.
The middle portion of the movie is the most laborious to sit through. Jim spends the day obsessing over two teenage girls (Danielle Safady and Annet Mahendru), which is appropriately desperate and creepy, but eventually becomes tiresome, especially once he gets caught. But the movie rebounds in the last third with a truly peculiar encounter that shows what happens when you spend your life believing in the fantasy worlds Disney creates (and how it affects your kids), and from there leads to a conclusion I didn't see coming but is...kind of perfect. It's a brilliantly nasty way to cap off Escape from Tomorrow, a movie that, for all its faults, is a remarkable achievement given what was pulled off under such tight constraints. Randy Moore is a filmmaker of considerable imagination, and I have a feeling with more freedom, he could make something truly special. There are images in this movie I will not forgot and wouldn't mind seeing again, which is more than I can say for most of the movies in a given year. That it exists at all is something of a minor miracle, and an inspiring one.
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c)Hell and Beyond, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
January Fever, Part 1: Andrés Muschietti's Mama and Jee-woon Kim's The Last Stand
Mama started as a terrifying three minute short, and now, thanks to executive producer Guillermo del Toro, has become an overcooked one-hundred minute feature. Expanding a short film is always tricky, as the risk is run of making a movie that's too big. Mama goes for being a straight-up ghost story, one that, in the tradition of J-horror, has a vengeful spirit that has some demands before it will be put to rest. I'm okay with that as a concept...what I'm not okay with is a story that doesn't seem to play by any rules and worse, creates a ghost that is seen too often and when it is, looks like bad CGI.
The prologue is promising, as two little girls end up stranded in a remote cabin and are eventually rescued by their artist uncle, Lucas (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and his rock band girlfriend, Annabel (Jessica Chastain, who is super cute even with black hair). There's clearly been some trauma, but Lucas thinks it's his duty to raise these girls. Annabel, of course, is not ready for mommy duty (clearly set up the first time we see her), so the movie spends a great deal of time showing how bad she is at it once the girls move in.
As expected, the girls don't come alone. While in the cabin, they were cared for by the spirit of a mother who lost her baby, and she has a nasty jealous streak. When the girls begin to warm up to Annabel, there are numerous shots of them looking over her shoulder, either smiling or with a scared expression. The first few times, there is some tension, but it keeps happening every other scene until eventually, it grows tiresome. The same can be said for the random sightings of the ghost, who appears in a large number of jump scares with thundering chords on the soundtrack.
The moments that resonate most in Mama are the ones where we only get glimpses of part of the ghost...her hand or her flowing hair. Her attack methods don't make much sense; if anything, they are patterned in a way to move the plot forward so Annabel can finally realize that she likes taking care of children after all. But the movie doesn't earn that moment; it just happens so the ghost can get angry and go berserk.
This the kind of movie where characters make dumb decisions. Not one but two people go to search the cabin, and both have the brilliant idea to go at night when they can't see anything. Even worse, the movie flashes back to show us why this spirit is pissed by making them dream sequences the spirit feels compelled to share with Lucas and Annabel. The back story itself is straight out of many other, more interesting movies.
The best thing about the movie is its atmosphere. First time director Andrés Muschietti, who made the short, has a keen eye for strong visuals...there are some compelling shots throughout the movie. Lots of credibility goes out the window during the climax, though, due to the lousy visuals effects and the laughably bad melodrama. Yes, we're actually supposed to care about these characters and the fact that motherhood has finally become something Annabel wants. As far as I was concerned, she was happier in the rock band. A missed opportunity in more ways than not, Mama is a prime example of what happens when a filmmaker wants to deliver the goods too badly. Next time, some subtly would be much appreciated.
Jee-woon Kim is one of best genre filmmakers around, and if you don't believe me, check out his ghost story, A Tale of Two Sisters, his western, The Good, the Bad, the Weird, and his serial killer flick, I Saw the Devil. This guy has serious chops when it comes to delivering legitimate thrills and action, which he brings stateside for his US debut, The Last Stand. For most, this movie will mark the return of Arnold Schwarzenegger to a starring role, but those expecting tons of one liners and a larger-than-life presence might be disappointed. Instead, he plays a small town sheriff, a man who's seen more than his fair share of violence and needed to get away from it. You can read it on his weathered face.
Arnie's Ray Owens looks after Summerton Junction, an Arizona town so small that all the residents, save for a handful, travel with the high school football team for the playoffs. There are only three deputies, and an exciting day for them is rescuing a cat from a tree. This is just the way Ray likes it, but all that's about to change in the form of Gabriel Cortez (Eduardo Noriega), a Mexican drug lord who has escaped FBI custody and will have to go through Ray's town to cross the border. With the help of his deputies and a few ragtag locals, Ray hatches a plan to try and stop this guy from making it through. At least, not without a fight.
There's a classic western sensibility to the set-up and to Ray, a man who could turn the other cheek and let Cortez blow through his town but would rather protect what's his. The showdown doesn't even occur until the last third of the picture, giving plenty of time to build anticipation as Cortez, in a car capable of driving two-hundred miles an hour, outwits various roadblocks. Kim and cinematographer Ji-yong Kim have the most fun with nighttime scenes, beginning with Cortez's daring escape and then in his pursuit. Look also at how vividly they stage a shootout illuminated only by flood lights. Despite the familiar script elements, Kim is able to bring the material to life in fresh and exhilarating ways.
Schwarzenegger still proves to be a towering force in frame, even if his character never has any of those spotlight moments recognized in his '80s work. His age is mentioned on a few occasions, but thankfully, the movie doesn't dwell on it. If there is a running gag, it's that everyone in this town is packing, right down to the sweet old lady that owns the antique store. Many different firearms are displayed here (even a flare gun), and Kim makes sure to show us the maximum damage each one inflicts. In classic western tradition, violence becomes a necessary means of keeping the peace, even if it involves a few casualties. Despite this, the movie is never self-serious. The supporting cast, which includes Johnny Knoxville and the always welcome Luis Guzman, bring nice bits of humor to the mix.
While it won't win points for originality, The Last Stand does succeed at being one of most confident, brisk, and satisfying action pictures to come along since John Carpenter's career was in full swing. It also made me happy to see Schwarzenegger back on the big screen where he belongs. He proves here that there's some still some spark left and that, along with the arrival of Jee-woon Kim, is cause for celebration. Fingers crossed that Hollywood does not drive him away like they did John Woo.
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c) Hell and Beyond, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
The Light is Dim: Lee's Best Movies of 2012
"Ain't no rainbow in the sky
In the middle of the night
But the signal's coming through
One day I will be alright again." - Mr. E
-Lee
Wish I Could Forget (in alphabetical order): Casa de mi Padre, God Bless America, Lawless, Piranha DD, Prometheus, Savages
Wish I'd Loved (in alphabetical order): Argo, Beasts of the Southern Wild, Cloud Atlas, The Deep Blue Sea, Flight, Killing Them Softly, The Loneliest Planet, The Master, Paranorman, The Queen of Versailles, Red Hook Summer, Take This Waltz
Honorable Mention (in alphabetical order): Attenberg, Bernie, Beyond the Black Rainbow, Chronicle, Compliance, Damsels in Distress, Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, The Grey, Magic Mike, Premium Rush, The Raid: Redemption, Safety Not Guaranteed, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, Silver Linings Playbook, This is Not a Film, Universal Soldier: Day of Reckoning, Zero Dark Thirty
20-11
20) 21 Jump Street dir. Phil Lord and Chris Miller
19) The Loved Ones dir. Sean Byrne
18) Alps dir. Giorgos Lanthimos
17) The Five-Year Engagement dir. Nicholas Stoller
16) Skyfall dir. Sam Mendes
15) Jiro Dreams of Sushi dir. David Gelb
14) The Dark Knight Rises dir. Christopher Nolan
13) The Turin Horse (A torinói ló) dir. Béla Tarr
12) The Kid with a Bike (Le gamin au vélo) dir. Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne
11) Killer Joe dir. William Friedkin
Top Ten
10) The Perks of Being a Wallflower dir. Stephen Chbosky
It's one thing to adapt your own novel to the screen...it's another thing all together to make it your directorial debut and do it thirteen years after the book was first published. And yet, that's exactly what Stephen Chbosky did, with stunning results. He proves himself a natural born filmmaker, not just behind the camera, but also with a knack for finding the right actors to bring his characters to life. Logan Lerman is Charlie, a troubled high school kid who finds solace in brother/sister team Patrick (an outstanding Ezra Miller) and Sam (Emma Watson, also amazing). On the page, the material was on the brink of spilling into sappy sentimentality, and the same risk was even greater for the movie. But by scaling things back and trusting in his cast, Chbosky's picture nails the pain and unexpected exhilaration that comes with growing up. We see this material tackled a lot, but rarely with this much raw truth.
9) Django Unchained dir. Quentin Tarantino
Sally Menke's absence is evident, but the change in rhythm doesn't stop Tarantino's latest from being a potent blast. QT gets stellar work out of regulars Christoph Waltz and Samuel L. Jackson (in possibly his best role since Pulp Fiction), plus juicy work from Jamie Foxx as Django, a freed slave bent on rescuing his wife from slave owner Calvin Candie (a delightfully devious Leonardo DiCaprio). As expected, ultra violence erupts, but not without a price. There's real weight to the vengeance in Tarantino's movies...he doesn't just want us to relish in it; he wants us to see how deeply it cuts the insides of those who carry it out. By taking a brutal period of American history as his subject, Tarantino is able to challenge us in ways at once surprising and gleefully disturbing. Those who accuse him of being derivative need to look closer.
8) Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Bir zamanlar Anadolu'da) dir. Nuri Bilge Ceylan
It starts out with a bunch of seemingly clueless cops searching for a dead body, and later reveals itself to be a study in procedure. The characters of Nuri Bilge Cevlan's picture are creatures of habit, locked in an endless cycle of their day-to-day routines. The longer an investigation takes the better, as it avoids having to face realities such as families or domestic duties. This is one of the most visually gorgeous movies of the year, one that almost acts like it might favor being swallowed in the massive countryside (where the corpse is supposedly buried) as opposed to the drab surroundings of an office. Brilliant and haunting, the movie has moments that live up to the title's fairy tale implications...any encounter that isn't part of the routine is dreamlike and too much to bear. The only thing certain is that it will end and reality will make its inevitable return.
7) Oslo, August 31st (Oslo, 31. august) dir. Joachim Trier
Life has run its course for Anders (Anders Danielsen Lie) in Joachim Trier's quietly tragic follow-up to his wonderful Reprise. A recovering drug addict just two weeks away from finishing his rehab program, 34-year-old Anders wakes up one morning and decides it's too late for him to start over. He spends the day re-connecting with old friends and even goes to a job interview, although he decides pretty quickly that it will never work out. A somber and occasionally beautiful portrait of being hopelessly lost, Oslo, August 31st is as much about embracing our memories of the past as it is rejecting our future. But will the memories created on this present day be enough to encourage us to move forward? That's the question that sticks as Anders slowly spirals downhill.
6) Holy Motors dir. Leos Carax
Denis Lavant gives a performance for the ages as Oscar, a man who spends his days in a limousine going to various "appointments." Often surreal, strange, creative, hilarious, and even poignant, the movie is a tribute not just to the nature of performance, but also a meditation on identity, aging, and, loneliness. It's a beautiful nostalgia trip that also mourns the future, and does so with visuals that channel David Lynch and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. After two viewings, my head is still spinning, and that's a good thing...I'm certain that multiple viewings will unlock more of this movie's enticing mysteries.
5) Looper dir. Rian Johnson
If good sci-fi movies are rare, great sci-fi movies are a revelation. With that in mind, let's just say that Looper blindsided me. The ambitious premise, which revolves around hitmen who kill targets that are zapped to them from the future, is given loads of texture due to Johnson's complex-but-not-too-complex script. There are hints of darkness too, specifically in the way the movie shows how the hitmen, called Loopers, deal with coming into contact with the older versions of themselves. Can you change the course of your life and the lives of others by going back and talking to your younger self? Can the younger self fix mistakes made down the line if they don't kill their older counterpart? These are just a few of the fascinating questions this heady and exciting movie asks. It doesn't hurt that it also features career best work from Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Bruce Willis.
4) Lincoln dir. Steven Spielberg
I am still a bit shell shocked by how much I love this movie. While most write off Spielberg's projects these days, I believe his work continues to be vital and holds value. Even despite this, he still tends to tread into corny territory, particularly with his endings, as if he's not satisfied unless he sends us home happy. The trailer for Lincoln made it come off like a heavy handed train wreck, a cheap piece of Oscar bait. How thrilled I was that the movie itself turned out to be something much more special. Everything is in synch here: Tony Kushner's smart and absorbing script, Janusz Kaminski's elegant cinematography (some of his best ever, methinks), Spielberg's patient direction, and Daniel Day-Lewis' sympathetic performance. Day-Lewis, who is amazing in just about everything, is a revelation here. And it's not just about the look...the details of his performance are remarkably rich. From the perfectly staged opening scene to the final speech I didn't appreciate until my second viewing, Lincoln is an essential portrait of how politics can be about more than personal gain.
3) Girl Walk//All Day dir. Jacob Krupnick
The most joyous movie in recent memory, Girl Walk//All Day had me from its opening moments. A Girl (Chaplin-esque dancer Anne Marsen) goes into a ballet class and awkwardly tries to stay in synch with the other dancers. All of the sudden, the music on the soundtrack changes and the Girl begins to dance to her own groove, blasts out of the studio and into New York City. What follows is 71 minutes of non-stop dance (set to Girl Talk's album All Day) as the Girl works her way through all areas of the city, occasionally interacting with others (some of it staged, some not) and rarely stopping for a breath. Her energy is first met with shrugs, but as the journey continues, her happiness becomes infectious. Shot with as much flair and innovation as a movie with a budget one hundred times its size, Girl Walk//All Day is a testament to how powerful cinema can be as a medium for all the senses. It gets us involved on multiple levels at once, and there wasn't a single moment of it that I wasn't smiling and tapping my foot. If you don't get the desire to jump up and dance after the first ten minutes, you might want to get your pulse checked.
Watch the entire movie at: http://girlwalkallday.com/watch-the-film
2) Cosmopolis dir. David Cronenberg
Eric Packer (Robert Pattinson, terrific) looks like a cobra perched in the throne at the back of his limousine, which is appropriate given this is the world of David Cronenberg. Even more appropriate is the fact that Eric's prostate is asymmetrical, a revelation that will be the least of his worries as he travels through New York City to get a haircut. The city as a playground we saw in Girl Walk//All Day has been replaced with a metropolis on the verge of extinction. Eric is ridiculously wealthy, and every word that he and his colleagues speak sounds as if they read it off a trade report. They've been shaped by a capitalist society, turned from human beings into commodities. You can hear the struggle when Eric tries to have a "normal" conversation with his wife (Sarah Gadon)and makes desperate attempts to have sex with her because that's the only way he can express any feelings. Ultimately bleak but also strangely comic, Cosmopolis shows Cronenberg in top form, mixing his signature themes of flesh and technology with issues of a world crumbling under its own greed and a frenzied excuse to exist. The climax where Eric faces off with a former employee (Paul Giamatti) is one of the great showstopping scenes of the year. Seeing it once is not enough.
1) Moonrise Kingdom dir. Wes Anderson
Wes Anderson's movies exist in world completely his own, yet it's a world he wants us to embrace and understand. I'm of the firm belief that his movies are best grasped after multiple viewings; the first one is merely to hook you, and then you return to dissect the deeper meanings. Those who write Anderson is whimsical for whimsical sake are not paying attention. In each of his pictures, there's a sadness beneath the trademark quirky dialogue, and it deceives you when you first stumble across it. His movies are very much about him, and the ones that are spoken of the least are the ones that reveal this the most (like his incredible The Darjeeling Limited, which I have come to value even more than The Royal Tenenbaums). There's a certain messiness to his work too, but it's appropriate, since his movies are about messy lives. His central focus is, for the first time, children in Moonrise Kingdom, and given how he's dabbled a little with it in his past pictures (and given their storybook quality), I'm surprised it took him this long to get there.
First time actors Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward (star making performances for both) are Sam and Suzy, young lovers in 1960s New England who run away together so they won't have to worry about disappointing the adults around them anymore. As is often the case in Anderson's world, the sins of the parents (usually the father) have become the sins of the children. Sam and Suzy are already anticipating that adulthood will be as melancholy and strenuous as being a child, so the only shot at freedom is a special place where those problems don't exist and hopefully never will. Anderson creates a luscious visual palette for his heroes to get lost in, and his dialogue between them is his most natural and controlled yet.
A manhunt is arranged to find them, giving the adults of the town a break from their deadening routines (like the characters of Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, they're stuck in an endless cycle). As expected, Anderson fills his movie with great actors, all of who fit comfortably into his universe and deliver his signature dialogue effortlessly. Moonrise Kingdom is Anderson's most tender work to date and possibly, his funniest. It is also, at moments, his most surreal, showing a filmmaker who has established himself as one of the most important voices in American cinema. Each picture has shown tremendous, often startling growth, but this time, it's a leap. Still undervalued, Wes Anderson may be one of those filmmakers whose true genius is not recognized for years to come. I see his Moonrise Kingdom as a launching pad for many more significant and comically challenging works. It is the best and most magical movie of the year.
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(c) Hell and Beyond, 2013
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Introducing the New Flesh: David Cronenberg's Videodrome
SPOILER WARNING
The second truly important work in David Cronenberg's career (after The Brood) and still one of his most vital, Videodrome was quite a few years ahead of its time with ideas involving the evolution of flesh into technology. The desire to connect with your television, mentally, physically, and sexually, was Cronenberg's launching pad here, and despite whether or not you agree with it, he makes it damn near impossible to dismiss. Watching Videodrome nearly thirty years after its release, I am still quite stunned a major studio had it on their slate. There's little question the execs didn't know exactly what (or who) they were dealing with.
Max Renn (James Woods) is in charged of programming at Civic TV, the kind of station whose logo shows a man lying in bed, watching television. This is a society where eyes are constantly glued to the tube, and Max is tired of giving the audience the same old junk. He wants to show people something real, something that will be so appalling they won't want to turn their eyes. When previewing potential programs, he wants to see the end first. This is a world of instant gratification...why bother with stories or characters when you can get straight to the good stuff? By good stuff, Renn means smut. If presented with sex that is handled in a tasteful manner, he proclaims it's "not tacky enough to turn me on. Too much class."
Why is Renn so obsessed with giving the world raw sex and violence? It's an outlet...if they can experience it on TV, they won't want to experience it in real life ("Better on TV than on the streets"). But what happens when it starts to work its way into your brain? When what you see on your television becomes so real the technology in front of you becomes a living, breathing thing? That what we experience on TV becomes how we really see the world? This is what happens to Max once he discovers Videodrome, a show scrambled through a satellite feed that has a very simple set up...two masked figures drag a naked woman into a room with clay walls and proceed to torture and beat her. At first, Max is annoyed by the lack of "plot." After a few minutes, he is unable to look away.
On the talk show circuit, he meets Nikki Brand (is the last name ironic?)(Deborah Harry), a radio talk show therapist. She helps people through their "real" problems. Right after hearing a theory that television is the "retina to the mind's eye," (the television is the new window to the soul, if there was ever a soul to begin with) Max goes to visit Nikki at the station and we see her booth is modeled after an eyeball. The camera then protrudes in...in other words, radio is on the same path as television. Or, given what we learn about Nikki, maybe it's already gotten there.
It's one thing to watch violence for arousal; but to take part is something else all together. Max learns this on his first date with Nikki when he notices cut marks on her shoulder and then later when she gets off having a needle stuck through her earlobe. Instead of removing this object, he leaves it. This our first glimpse of metal penetrating flesh. It is only the beginning of how far Nikki is willing to go in her quest for pain as pleasure. After seeing Videodrome, she wants to be a contestant on the show. In the meantime, Max begins to see things metamorphosize before him. Every time he views Videodrome, reality changes a little more.
How could it be real? Cronenberg constantly keeps us on edge by having Max experience bizarre events that later look like they might have never happened at all. His television begins to pulsate and moan when he touches it. The line has been crossed and interaction with technology is becoming indistinguishable from anything else. One character describes giving homeless people a TV as a way to bring them back to "the world." Which world does she mean? The reality of the world we know, or the one that exists inside the television? The movie suggests they are about to be one in the same.
Max is on his way to the other side. His stomach splits into a vaginal shaped opening in which a blood red videotape can go, and it seems to be giving him instructions on how to complete his journey to the "new flesh," a hybrid of his human self and the technology he supports. A company called Spectacular Optical created Videodrome as a means of brainwashing the viewers with its shocking footage, thereby creating a new race of people who can easily be controlled. Max is the first subject, for when the tape is inserted into him, he'll do whatever he is told. His assignments consist of destroying anyone who is a threat to Spectacular Optical's plan (how appropriate the company poses as an eyewear manufacturer).
Videodrome throws so many elements into the pot, it's amazing the movie doesn't collapse under its weight. The key to its success is Cronenberg's confidence in his material...the ideas could easily look absurd (and there certainly are moments that provoke uneasy laughs, not to mention a God-like character named Brian O'Blivion), but they are portrayed in a fashion that makes them eerily realistic. Aside from a climatic death scene that goes overboard, the special effects perfectly compliment the paranoia. Fittingly, Videodrome was only the beginning for Cronenberg's exploration of technology and flesh becoming one. As fascinating as it has been in future projects, I don't think he's ever done it this potently.
The picture's ending is an indication that Cronenberg is not done with these themes yet. Max, with a gun fused to his hand (it has grown flesh and literally become part of his hand), kills the inventor of Videodrome and then turns the gun on himself and says, "Long live the new flesh." He has killed his creator and welcomed the inevitable takeover, which opens the door for a filmmaker who will spend most of his career showing how man will become consumed by his own inventions. Our nature and our impulses are not strong enough to keep us from giving in...we are living for ourselves and our own gratification, and the end result will always be a disaster. We will never be the winner. Love it or hate it, Videodrome is a movie that drives itself into your brain and holds it hostage. The question is, will you welcome the invasion?
Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!
(c) Hell and Beyond, 2012
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