Some recent viewings of note, in the order I saw them over the last month or so. There are spoilers here and there, but they're at a minimum.
Juliet, Naked -- Based on Nick Hornby's novel, this is a bright, small story about a reclusive rocker (Ethan Hawke) whose long-lost acoustic demo gets on the radar of an obsessive fan (Chris O'Dowd), who in turn pays far more attention to his fan board than to his long-suffering wife (Rose Byrne).
The cast is pitch-perfect, bringing the material into focus, and the writing is subtle but sharp, weaving solid observations about obsessives and self-appointed curators into the familiar tropes about lost connections and second chances. Bonus points for Hawke's rendition of Waterloo Sunset.
Grade: A
Landline -- This looked good on paper -- solid cast (Edie Falco, John Turturro, Jenny Slate) and a proven director (Gillian Robespierre) with a touch for comedy (Robespierre directed several excellent episodes of HBO's sorely underrated Crashing this season). And yet....
Two sisters (Slate and Abby Quinn) suspect that their father (Turturro) is cheating on their mother (Falco). And yet Slate is cheating on her own fiancé (Jay Duplass), so, go figure. Naturally, hijinks ensue. The younger sister is a bratty teen, who seems to delight mostly in being a disagreeable pain-in-the-ass.
Pretty much everyone in this movie is a spoiled, insufferable asshole. At the risk of stating the obvious, every story needs a protagonist -- that is, someone you can root for. But there's no one to root for here, really. They're all fucking jerky and unpleasant, except Duplass, who's just a pussy. Not to approach it from an academic Marxist (class-based) perspective, but after about an hour of listening to these privileged assholes bray at each other over their first-world problems, you kind of wish one of them would get mugged or beaten up, burglarized, something like that. Anything but listen to spoiled people whine for an hour and a half.
Grade: D+
Hereditary -- After the previous decade's spate of wretched torture porn, the horror genre has been enjoying something of a rejuvenation the last half-decade or so. The focus right now is on Jordan Peele, who with Get Out and now Us has managed to create entertaining pieces that have canny social observations baked into them. But Robert Eggers' The Witch was another terrific -- and sorely underrated -- addition to the canon, using flawless pacing and fantastic exterior shots to build real suspense, without a bunch of gratuitous blood and goo.
Hereditary lands closer to that latter category, starting with a well-used premise -- Grandma's dead, and the family starts finding out about the real Grandma. Toni Collette and Gabriel Byrne lead a strong cast of mostly newer actors. It's a great ensemble and they thrive under Ari Aster's writing and directing. The movie probably could have been 10-15 minutes shorter in the first two acts, but it's not a major complaint.
It's hard to get into depth with this movie without giving too much away, but suffice to say that the suspense builds well and doesn't let up, there are a couple of gory shots but nothing unnecessarily graphic or overdone, and the powerful ending will have you recalling classics like The Exorcist and Rosemary's Baby, the way the tension gets ratcheted up effectively, without letting go.
Grade: A-
Black Panther -- I mostly don't bother with superhero movies, as they are essentially the same Hero's Journey template iterated with slight variations. It's like hearing the same song played in all twelve musical keys, maybe replacing major chords with minor or altered dominant chords, maybe a tempo change, but still essentially the same deal.
That's not a value judgment; the movies are well-made and generally have solid casts. But you have to be invested in the characters to really get anything from these movies, and it's mostly just not in my wheelhouse. Also, they tend to run about 20-30 minutes too long. Seems like 100-110 minutes should be enough to paint the numbers and tack on the franchise teaser after the credits.
So my main requirement from action or blockbuster movies is that the characters are engaging and the plot moves along, and Black Panther fits that bill. Like Wonder Woman before it, there is a certain aura of wokeness coming with this one, but it's not overdone. It takes some suspension of disbelief to buy that an isolated nation could use an essentially magical element (that only exists in one place) to build a technologically advanced civilization with no outside contact or trade. But as with all of these types of movies, the borders of verisimilitude tend to be blurry and selective, and are not meant to be scrutinized closely. It is, after all, a comic book.
The main thing is that the cast is strong, the story solid, the pacing steady, and the visuals interesting and innovative. Like Wonder Woman, it's woke, but in a good way.
Grade: B+
First Reformed -- Paul Schrader wrote Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. It's not an exaggeration to say that if he had done nothing else at all, he's still a legend. But of course he's written and/or directed many other projects over the years, with varying levels of success. Last year's First Reformed belongs among his greatest works. It's a small, intimate film that poses large questions.
Ethan Hawke (once again) plays Rev. Ernst Toller, a former military chaplain who, after losing his son in Iraq and subsequently his marriage, finds himself ministering to a historic church in upstate New York that is more of a tourist destination than a true congregation. Toller drinks and writes, vainly attempting to crib together some sort of penance or redemption for himself.
An environmentalist couple enters his church, the pregnant wife Mary (Amanda Seyfried) asking for his counseling for her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger), a climate-change obsessive who wants to abort the fetus rather than bring it into an already doomed world. A terrific one-on-one scene between Toller and Michael sets the trajectory for the rest of the movie, as Michael lays out his case in detail, and Toller convinces him to meet again for further counseling. When Mary finds Michael's suicide vest and informs Toller, Michael shoots himself, propelling Toller's soul-searching into new territory.
As Toller begins digging into the heart of Michael's environmental concerns, he begins putting them into a higher spiritual context: Will God forgive us? (for destroying His creation). This leads him into direct conflict with the industrialist (Michael Gaston) who bankrolls the church as a token measure of green-washing, as well as the megachurch pastor (Cedric "the Entertainer" Kyles, in a terrifically subtle performance) who eschews Toller's introspective spiritualism for the more worldly concerns of "outreach" marketing.
The third act wobbles a touch, as Toller goes Travis Bickle on us rather abruptly, but pulls itself together for a strong (if jarring) finish. If you've read Peter Biskind's Easy Riders, Raging Bulls (and if you haven't you should) then you know Schrader's personal history, raised in a strict Dutch Calvinist home where movies were forbidden. Schrader also at one point considered joining the clergy (as did his frequent collaborator Martin Scorsese), and these characteristics imbue the story as a deeply personal effort from Schrader. The close, innovative camerawork complements the nature of the story perfectly.
There are a couple of moments here and there that feel, well, preachy, and again the ending could have been a bit tighter, but these are minor quibbles. It's a real shame this movie didn't get more (or any) attention. It's an outstanding work from a true master.
Grade: A-
Juliet, Naked -- Based on Nick Hornby's novel, this is a bright, small story about a reclusive rocker (Ethan Hawke) whose long-lost acoustic demo gets on the radar of an obsessive fan (Chris O'Dowd), who in turn pays far more attention to his fan board than to his long-suffering wife (Rose Byrne).
The cast is pitch-perfect, bringing the material into focus, and the writing is subtle but sharp, weaving solid observations about obsessives and self-appointed curators into the familiar tropes about lost connections and second chances. Bonus points for Hawke's rendition of Waterloo Sunset.
Grade: A
Landline -- This looked good on paper -- solid cast (Edie Falco, John Turturro, Jenny Slate) and a proven director (Gillian Robespierre) with a touch for comedy (Robespierre directed several excellent episodes of HBO's sorely underrated Crashing this season). And yet....
Two sisters (Slate and Abby Quinn) suspect that their father (Turturro) is cheating on their mother (Falco). And yet Slate is cheating on her own fiancé (Jay Duplass), so, go figure. Naturally, hijinks ensue. The younger sister is a bratty teen, who seems to delight mostly in being a disagreeable pain-in-the-ass.
Pretty much everyone in this movie is a spoiled, insufferable asshole. At the risk of stating the obvious, every story needs a protagonist -- that is, someone you can root for. But there's no one to root for here, really. They're all fucking jerky and unpleasant, except Duplass, who's just a pussy. Not to approach it from an academic Marxist (class-based) perspective, but after about an hour of listening to these privileged assholes bray at each other over their first-world problems, you kind of wish one of them would get mugged or beaten up, burglarized, something like that. Anything but listen to spoiled people whine for an hour and a half.
Grade: D+
Hereditary -- After the previous decade's spate of wretched torture porn, the horror genre has been enjoying something of a rejuvenation the last half-decade or so. The focus right now is on Jordan Peele, who with Get Out and now Us has managed to create entertaining pieces that have canny social observations baked into them. But Robert Eggers' The Witch was another terrific -- and sorely underrated -- addition to the canon, using flawless pacing and fantastic exterior shots to build real suspense, without a bunch of gratuitous blood and goo.
Hereditary lands closer to that latter category, starting with a well-used premise -- Grandma's dead, and the family starts finding out about the real Grandma. Toni Collette and Gabriel Byrne lead a strong cast of mostly newer actors. It's a great ensemble and they thrive under Ari Aster's writing and directing. The movie probably could have been 10-15 minutes shorter in the first two acts, but it's not a major complaint.
It's hard to get into depth with this movie without giving too much away, but suffice to say that the suspense builds well and doesn't let up, there are a couple of gory shots but nothing unnecessarily graphic or overdone, and the powerful ending will have you recalling classics like The Exorcist and Rosemary's Baby, the way the tension gets ratcheted up effectively, without letting go.
Grade: A-
Black Panther -- I mostly don't bother with superhero movies, as they are essentially the same Hero's Journey template iterated with slight variations. It's like hearing the same song played in all twelve musical keys, maybe replacing major chords with minor or altered dominant chords, maybe a tempo change, but still essentially the same deal.
That's not a value judgment; the movies are well-made and generally have solid casts. But you have to be invested in the characters to really get anything from these movies, and it's mostly just not in my wheelhouse. Also, they tend to run about 20-30 minutes too long. Seems like 100-110 minutes should be enough to paint the numbers and tack on the franchise teaser after the credits.
So my main requirement from action or blockbuster movies is that the characters are engaging and the plot moves along, and Black Panther fits that bill. Like Wonder Woman before it, there is a certain aura of wokeness coming with this one, but it's not overdone. It takes some suspension of disbelief to buy that an isolated nation could use an essentially magical element (that only exists in one place) to build a technologically advanced civilization with no outside contact or trade. But as with all of these types of movies, the borders of verisimilitude tend to be blurry and selective, and are not meant to be scrutinized closely. It is, after all, a comic book.
The main thing is that the cast is strong, the story solid, the pacing steady, and the visuals interesting and innovative. Like Wonder Woman, it's woke, but in a good way.
Grade: B+
First Reformed -- Paul Schrader wrote Taxi Driver and Raging Bull. It's not an exaggeration to say that if he had done nothing else at all, he's still a legend. But of course he's written and/or directed many other projects over the years, with varying levels of success. Last year's First Reformed belongs among his greatest works. It's a small, intimate film that poses large questions.
Ethan Hawke (once again) plays Rev. Ernst Toller, a former military chaplain who, after losing his son in Iraq and subsequently his marriage, finds himself ministering to a historic church in upstate New York that is more of a tourist destination than a true congregation. Toller drinks and writes, vainly attempting to crib together some sort of penance or redemption for himself.
An environmentalist couple enters his church, the pregnant wife Mary (Amanda Seyfried) asking for his counseling for her husband Michael (Philip Ettinger), a climate-change obsessive who wants to abort the fetus rather than bring it into an already doomed world. A terrific one-on-one scene between Toller and Michael sets the trajectory for the rest of the movie, as Michael lays out his case in detail, and Toller convinces him to meet again for further counseling. When Mary finds Michael's suicide vest and informs Toller, Michael shoots himself, propelling Toller's soul-searching into new territory.
As Toller begins digging into the heart of Michael's environmental concerns, he begins putting them into a higher spiritual context: Will God forgive us? (for destroying His creation). This leads him into direct conflict with the industrialist (Michael Gaston) who bankrolls the church as a token measure of green-washing, as well as the megachurch pastor (Cedric "the Entertainer" Kyles, in a terrifically subtle performance) who eschews Toller's introspective spiritualism for the more worldly concerns of "outreach" marketing.
The third act wobbles a touch, as Toller goes Travis Bickle on us rather abruptly, but pulls itself together for a strong (if jarring) finish. If you've read Peter Biskind's Easy Riders, Raging Bulls (and if you haven't you should) then you know Schrader's personal history, raised in a strict Dutch Calvinist home where movies were forbidden. Schrader also at one point considered joining the clergy (as did his frequent collaborator Martin Scorsese), and these characteristics imbue the story as a deeply personal effort from Schrader. The close, innovative camerawork complements the nature of the story perfectly.
There are a couple of moments here and there that feel, well, preachy, and again the ending could have been a bit tighter, but these are minor quibbles. It's a real shame this movie didn't get more (or any) attention. It's an outstanding work from a true master.
Grade: A-
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