Anthony Russo and Joe Russo's Captain America: The Winter Soldier

SPOILERS THROUGHOUT


Up until seeing Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I think my favorite entry in the Marvel Avengers series probably was the previous Captain America movie, titled The First Avenger. There was something kind of poignant about seeing the hero lose his innocence in service of his country, since all he ever wanted was to be a soldier. The fact he was scientifically turned into the perfect soldier, modified to keep his country safe and inspire hope, made it all the more effective. It didn't hurt that it was exciting too.

What fascinates most about The Winter Soldier is how our hero, Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), loses his innocence again, this time because he has awakened in a time unfamiliar, where keeping the country safe is achieved through means foreign to him. Trust is created through fear and conspiracies cooked up by the very people we elect to protect us, making The Winter Soldier a throwback to the paranoia thrillers of the '70s (complete with the deliciously savvy stunt casting of Robert Redford as a key player).

I was rather taken aback by how seriously the movie treats this material, given this is about a Marvel superhero. And I was also surprised how deeply it explores Rogers' struggle to adapt to this new era and quietly mourn the one he left behind. One of the movie's best scenes involves his visit to a Smithsonian exhibit about him. There's subtle sadness in his face as he looks at the uniforms on display and then watches old news reel footage of he and his fellow soldiers going off to battle. Even greater is a visit to his former sweetheart (Hayley Atwell), now on her death bed, regretting the life she and Rogers never got to share.

Rogers' biggest conflict this time out is with another soldier (called The Winter Soldier), this one enhanced with modern technology, so he's virtually unstoppable. This new soldier also happens to be from the past, and was Rogers' best friend, Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan). He's responsible for making sure Rogers doesn't foil a master plan to kill millions of Americans, which becomes complicated of course once our hero discovers who this mysterious soldier is standing in his way. There's real weight to their scenes together, particularly during the movie's climax.

The action scenes were fun in The First Avenger, but some of the ones here are a vast improvement. An ambush/car chase involving Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) is well staged, and a highway attack by the Winter Soldier proves to be riveting and tense. Others, however, are too cartoonish and distract, such as when Rogers takes down an aircraft with his shield. And therein lies one of the reasons why The Winter Soldier, and probably any Marvel movie for that matter, will always be held back from being a truly great movie. Rogers is presented as a flesh and blood character here, with real struggles and emotions, so why cheapen that by trying too hard to make him into a superhero? It's as if the producers feel they have an obligation to please their fan base by having Captain America leap through the air and perform dynamic tricks. That is the point where we stop being able to identify with him and he becomes nothing more than an action figure.

Since this is a Marvel movie, the screenplay is also required to fill its quota of having at least one scene that ties it in with the rest of the Marvel universe. So, every once in a while, The Winter Soldier comes to a screeching halt to give the audience a lot of mind numbing exposition that only a certain fan base will care anything about. They're trying to have their cake and eat it too, but isn't that what the post credits teasers are for? After the second or third big speech, the movie risks shutting us out.

Thankfully, there's enough to chew on in The Winter Soldier to keep these detours from doing too much damage (and thanks to home viewing, I can fast forward through the filler). Evans is in good form once again, likable and confident in the lead role. Scarlett Johansson, probably the finest young actress working right now, gives her character, Natasha Romanoff, purpose and conviction. And Anthony Mackie proves to be a nice addition as a war veteran who comes to Rogers' aid when the shit hits the fan.

The truly great movie in this Avengers universe has yet to be made, one that will please both the average viewer and the Marvel fan without alienating one side. The Winter Soldier is the biggest step in the right direction so far, a thrilling and occasionally challenging action spectacular that dares to go places not often seen in this genre. This is my favorite character series, and if the post credits cliffhanger is any indication, the future entries have nowhere to go but up.


Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!


(c)Hell and Beyond, 2014

Indie Memphis Film Festival, Days 2, 3, and 4: From Wild Canaries to Hoop Dreams

Relationship malfunction and murder mystery collide in Lawrence Michael Levine's often hilarious Wild Canaries, the story of a Brooklyn couple, played by Levine and his real life wife, Sophia Takal, who become amateur sleuths when their elderly neighbor turns up dead. The diagnosis is a heart attack, but the unemployed Barri (Takal) is unconvinced. It almost feels like her curiosity is a much needed replacement from her and Noah's (Levine) constant bickering, which of course becomes worse once she convinces him to join her wacky investigation. The movie is at its best when they're at each other's throats over the most trivial of things, though it doesn't hurt that they're matched by a stellar supporting cast (Arrested Development's Alia Shawkat as their roommate, Jason Ritter as their pot smoking, gambling landlord). The plot gets rather complicated, but the screwball antics and the chemistry between Levine and Takal are well worth the time. I hope to see them onscreen more together in the near future.






What a thrill it was to see two of my favorite John Carpenter movies, They Live and Halloween, back-to-back and on the big screen for the first time! This was probably my seventh or eighth time to see They Live, and I'm still amazed by the impact of its punch. What a huge gamble it was to not only cast a wrestler in the lead role (Roddy Piper), but also to throw everything at the audience with absolutely zero subtlety. But that's the point, right? That's what advertising and our government do everyday, so why should the movie cut us a break when satirizing it? The one liners still pop, the make up effects are still eerie, and the legendary fight scene is still a gas. Time truly has been good to They Live. The most exciting part about seeing Halloween was being envious of those who were experiencing it for the first time. Their gasps, jumps, and comments to the screen made me nostalgic and a bit jealous. I've always loved Halloween, but seeing it in the theater made me appreciate it even more. Not just for its craft, but also for how effective and efficient it is.





Dan Riesser makes his feature debut with Stomping Ground, an ambitious but forgettable story in which country girl Annie (Tarah DeSpain) takes her uppity big city boyfriend Ben (John Bobek) from Chicago to North Carolina for Thanksgiving. As expected, he has a bit of culture shock, first from discovering what a wild party animal Annie was in high school and later, learning that she used to hunt. But the real kicker comes when Annie and her old flame Paul (Jeramy Blackford) reveal they used to go deep into the woods searching for Bigfoot. Ben is an extreme skeptic that any such thing could exist, leading to a dick wagging contest between him and Paul, who still has the major hots for Annie. The city vs. country barrier begins to threaten Ben and Annie's relationship when it is decided they will join Paul and Hank (Joseph Allen Cavin) on a Bigfoot hunt. The expected tension unfolds, not just in the triangle between Annie, Ben, and Paul, but also when strange noises from the woods make them wonder if someone or something is following them. Riesser creates a chilling atmosphere for the collectively excellent cast, but sadly, they're saddled in roles that don't give them much to do that we haven't seen before. I had the pleasure of chatting with Riesser during the festival, and found him smart and very engaging, so I am quite anxious to see his career progress. He shows promise here as a director, but needs a screenplay with characters as interesting as he is.





After being approached by Mark Landis the night before I saw his movie Art and Craft, my level of intrigue shot up exponentially. I told him I was planning to see it, to which he responded with a hand shake and a "God bless you," before moving on to the next person. His confidence is admirable, and it's the aspect of Art and Craft that most fascinates. The movie is a documentary about Landis, a Mississippian who, for around thirty years, has been forging works of art and donating them to museums, often with a story attached. To the surprise of Cincinnati registrar Matthew Leininger, who stumbled upon what Landis was doing, it was never about money. To hear it from Landis, a schizophrenic, his art replication and donation are acts of philanthropy. Once uncovered, it became a tug of war between Landis, who is obsessed with recreating existing works, and Leininger, who believes he has a responsibility to put a stop to it. Despite the fact that so many people encourage Landis to create his own art as it is obvious he has talent (given how seamless his replicas are), that's not where his obsession lies. What's most effective and lasting about Art and Craft is how it creates the portrait of a man whose actions began out of loneliness, a sad truth revealed when it's realized that the one original drawing Landis has is of his late mother.





I first saw Michael Lehmann's Heathers in the winter of 1989, and it left me completely shell shocked. Over the past 25 years, I've seen it more than a dozen times (mostly due to my obsession with it as a teenager), and thankfully, it's one of those movies that hasn't withered with age. Aspects of it are dated, to be sure (those clothes!), but the themes resonate with a fury that has never been matched. Watching Heathers on the big screen for the first time was a joy, not just to further soak in all the memorable lines and moments, but also to further recognize why it is one of the sharpest and best satires ever made (not to mention the most brutally honest high school movie I've ever seen). Daniel Waters's script takes no prisoners in its depiction of the dangers of cliques and the constant pressure put on students by teachers, parents, and worst, each other. High school is all about fitting in, something Heathers explores in a fashion that makes The Breakfast Club, a movie I loved growing up and still love, look like an after school special. The crowd at the screening varied widely in age, an indication of the movie's power. I look forward to watching it another dozen times over the next 25 years.





I didn't remember a lot about Hoop Dreams, since I'd only seen the movie once, and it was around the time of its release in 1994. Like so many, I was anxious to see it due to the praise from Siskel & Ebert, who championed the movie in a way that was rarely witnessed. I responded very strongly to it, but like so many great movies, it slipped through the cracks and I forgot about it until it was announced that Indie Memphis was hosting a 20th anniversary screening, complete with a Q&A with the movie's stars and one of the producers. I'm glad to have some years between my viewings of Hoop Dreams; even though I recall liking it, I don't think I was mature enough to truly appreciate it the first time out. And having William Gates and Arthur Agee, the two young men the movie follows, here to discuss the last 20 years of their lives, only enhanced the experience. This is one of the most intimate and compelling documentaries ever made, a movie that richly chronicles the entire high school careers of two teenage kids from the inner city with big dreams of being NBA players. By covering such a large period of time, we become involved in the lives of not just them, but their families too. By the end of the almost three hour run time, we care about every person we've met and by that point, whether or not William and Arthur play pro basketball isn't even the biggest concern anymore. Instead, it's the well being of everyone in each of these families, as we've seen how so many decisions, good and bad, have affected them. This is a beautiful and inspiring movie, one that I have seen few like and doubt I will again, and having the chance to hear these two boys, now men, talk about what happened after the movie ends was at once rewarding and delightful. I doubt I'll ever have another film festival experience like it and for that, I am eternally grateful.


Thank you for visiting Hell and Beyond!


(c) Hell and Beyond, 2014

Indie Memphis Film Festival, Day 1: Lou Howe's Gabriel

We first meet the title character of Lou Howe's Gabriel, played by Rory Culkin, as he attempts to play with a child sitting one row ahead of him on a bus. There's a naive innocence to the way he coaxes the child to pay attention to him, along with some irresponsibility. But he seems harmless, even as he uses profanity when the child's mother intervenes. Something is not quite right about Gabriel, but that doesn't keep us from being immediately drawn to him. Gabriel is about a journey of sorts. The character, who prefers to be called Gabe, is looking for a former girlfriend whose love he is convinced will make his life complete. It might be easier to get there too, if it wasn't for his family. There are clues that he recently got out of an institution and since then, his brother (David Call) and long suffering mother (Deirdre O'Connell) have been attempting to keep him grounded. Easier said than done, since Gabe is on a mission, one that will include stops to places familiar from his past.

Howe shoots the movie with a remarkable amount of subtlety, something we're not used to when dealing with this subject matter. He strongly conveys how trapped Gabe is by showing a reflection of tree branches over his face, or darkness enveloping him as he escapes from a house through a window. Howe, in his feature debut, proves to be a natural born filmmaker, treating the material as if it's fresh and new. Two scenes that go straight to the core: one involves Gabe visiting a favorite diner, the other captures the family as they prepare to have pancakes following an awkward encounter. As closely observant as Howe is, none of the moments would ring as authentically as they do without the performances, particularly Culkin's. He's in every scene, and is never short of mesmerizing. Your heart slowly breaks as he drifts through this wicked world, a lost soul searching for the only thing that can truly cure him: love. Gabe's family loves him, but show it through acts of entrapment and belittlement. We can makes guesses as to what the outcome of Gabriel will be, and while I had a pretty good idea, I wasn't prepared for its emotional punch. I love this movie, and the unforgettable character Howe and Culkin have shared with me.


Thank for your visiting Hell and Beyond!


(C) Hell and Beyond, 2014

BOSS

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

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

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.


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(c)Hell and Beyond, 2013

Indie Memphis Film Festival: Randy Moore's Escape from Tomorrow

Already infamous for its sneaky production (shot without permits, guerrilla style, at both domestic Disney theme parks), Randy Moore's promising debut Escape from Tomorrow is a difficult movie to categorize. I've read comparisons to David Lynch, The Twilight Zone, Luis Buñuel, and even seen it described as a straight up black comedy; I have a hard time disagreeing with any of those. My initial reaction to it was hard to pin. This is an often unpleasant movie to watch and its structure is a bit wobbly (both of which I think are intentional), but I walked out unable to shake it. The movie is filled with unsettling and eerie images, some of which are achieved simply through the ominous black and white photography. Regardless of whether you like the movie or not, it's pretty safe to say you'll never look at these parks the same way again.

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.





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(c)Hell and Beyond, 2013