A busy life of non-film related events (including the drudgeries of moving to a new place) led me to take a step back from my usual film viewing activities. Still, the warm embrace of the TV glow helped smooth emotions and make this transitional phase somewhat bearable, this month at the movies…
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
Following up what could be argued to be the greatest action film of all time is no small task, but if anyone would be capable of it it would be the Australian maverick and father of Mad Max George Miller. With Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, we travel back to the childhood of the titular Furiosa (Anya Taylor-Joy) and see the journey that leads up to the story told within Mad Max: Fury Road. After being taken captive by a boisterious warlord Dementus (Chris Hemsworth) and watching the murder of her mother, the young Furiosa vows to take her vengeance and return to the Green Place from which she was taken. In her decades long struggle to break free from both Dementus and, eventually, Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme) we see wars fought and love born, all set against the sun scorched Australian dessert.
This film is one that should be approached with appropriate expectations. Fury Road is a once in a lifetime film event, one that would be impossible to replicate and Miller doesn’t even try here. Instead, Miller treats the film as it’s own story, building it’s world as fully and densely as he had done with Fury Road. The film is not the pedal-to-the-metal thrill ride that that film was, but it doesn’t shy away from the action either, giving us some of the best actioon set pieces since the last film. Taylor-Joy is perfectly stoic and hard as Furiosa, while embewing the character with a childish impetulance that gets worn away throughout the film. Tom Burke puts in an excellent supporting performance as Pretorian Jack, a beam of lightness in this dangerous world. A wonderful, breathtaking and beautiful return to the wasteland.
Hit Man
It’s been well established in this newsletter that Richard Linklater is one of my favourite directors, stemming from a love of School of Rock, Boyhood, the Before trilogy, and A Scanner Darkly just to name a few. So when his new film is receiving rave reviews out of the festival circuit and features one of the most interesting young stars Hollywood is putting forth, I tend to get excited. Inspired by a true story, Hit Man follows Gary Johnson (Glen Powell), full time university professor, part-time pretend hitman. Working undercover with the police, Gary uses a variety of costumes and character work to convince people he is a professional hitman whenever someone is looking to hire a contract killer, all the while he wears a wire in order to bring the conspirators to justice. But when a Gary develops a romantic relationship with someone looking to hire him (the stunning and hilarious Adria Arjona) Gary’s life begins to unravel.
This is an incredibly fun, frothy romantic comedy with some deep, dark shades of black comedy thrown in the mix. A film about expectations, what we look for in the people and world around us, and how everyone has a (mostly) untapped potential for darkness, this is one of Linklater’s best films in years. The chemistry between Powell and Arjona is steamy and palpable, amd Powell’s performance alone is one of the best of the year. Balancing the comedy with the darker elements incredibly well, and taking a big swing at the end of the film that pays off beautifully, this is a film that’s bound to be one of the most enjoyable theatre going experiences of the year.
Ikiru
One of director Akira Kurosawa’s many masterpieces, Ikiru tells the story of a Japanese bureaucrat who decides, after a terminal cancer diagnoses, he is lacking of a legacy. Years have been wasted away with bureaucratic pencil pushing and a life devoted to a son who does not reciprocate his level of love, our bureaucrat Mr. Watanabe (Takashi Shimura) has been hollowed of his passion for life, and it’s only upon reflection does he find a need to leave his mark. This mark is left in the form of a park, a playground where only an empty lot once stood, that Mr. Watanabe tirelessly pursues in making a reality in his final days.
A truly stunning film, the rare kind of film that makes one question their own place on this world, Ikiru may be one of the most important films someone could ever watch. Never sacchrine, never overwrought, a simple, quiet films that elevates a life into something everlasting. The direct translation of “ikiru” is “to live”, and the film exists to show us that the only true life is one led with graciousness and kindness to the world around us. Takashi Shimura gives one of the all-time best screen performances as the ill-fated Mr. Watanabe, a performance that’s restrained and exists almost completely within his eyes. If there is one film from this entire year I would watch every day for the rest of my life, this is that film. Brilliant doesn’t begin.
I Saw the TV Glow
One of the most inspired and truly unique films of the year so far, I Saw the TV Glow follows Owen (Justice Smith) as he falls into a bizarre friendship with Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) based on their mutual love for a low-budget horror/fantasy TV show called The Pink Opaque. Reality, television, and fantasy start to bleed together as Owen’s grip on what’s real and what’s not quickly begins to fade. As the luscious worlds collide, Owen is left to question his place in the world and whether the world could ever accept who he is.
A Lynchian soaked night terror, writer-director Jane Schoenbrun takes us down the rabbit hole in this mysterious and brilliant horror-tinged tale. The kind of film that can take your breath away while leaving you questioning everything you just saw, this is a film that must be seen to be believed. Diving into gender identity through our attachment to media and representation in the obscure and unacclaimed corners of the artistic landscape, this is a dense film with much on it’s mind, a film that is both obvious in some regards and obfuscating in others, one that insists the audience let’s go of all preconcieved notions and simply go with the storytellers on an adventure. A loving, terrible, and sad film, one that I will be thinking on the rest of the year.
A Master Builder
Jonathon Demme is one of the greatest American film directors that is not a household name. From the serene and simple Stop Making Sense to the brutal and disturbing The Silence of the Lambs, there was no genres or stories that Demme wasn’t able to conquer. His filmography is deeply varied, with the one constant being a sublime interest in the human condition and our relations to one another. In his final film A Master Builder, while this interest is still apparent, the adaptation process did leave the Beloved director somewhat out to sea.
An adaptation of a 1892 Henrik Ibsen play, the film follows the final days of famed architect Halvard Solness (Wallace Shawn) as he is visited by a young woman from his past. The film begins with a long conversation between Solness and his longtime friend Doctor Herdal, played by Andre Gregory. This opening is by far the most compelling part of the film, with Demme repairing Shawn and Gregory on screen for the first time since their remarkable performances in My Dinner With Andre. The two long-time friends breathe life into this otherwise stiff and unfulfilling project, and we feel the energy of the film completely fall when Gregory makes his exit. We’re left with an unfortunately limp and lifeless slog after this, as the film plays out like a ill-thought-out dream sequence. A film that comes off as having been done as a favor to a friend instead of a truly passionate affair, and altogether a disappointing end to an otherwise brilliant career.
Me and You and Everyone We Know
An indie darling from the mid-2000s, Me and You and Everyone We Know is everything wrong with American independent cinema. An empty, off-putting quirkfest masquerading as enlightened humanism, this is easily one of the worst films I have seen this year. Following a newly divorced dad (John Hawkes) as he navigates singledom and shoe sales, while being romantically pursued by a local performance artist (Miranda July), this film tries desperately to say anything profound and only ends up showing what a void of talent can really amount to.
Hawkes tries his best imbue the film and his character with a sense of purpose, but he’s hamstringed by the terrible, endlessly dull script. July is so uninspired in her storytelling, trying to wring import out of the mundane and completely lacking in the insight that would be needed for this task. Her character Christine Jespersen is annoying and creepy with no redeemable characteristics, yet the performance and writing insists upon her being delightful and lovable. A painfully inept independent film.
Miller’s Crossing
The film discussed in this month’s article for paid subscribers, click here to read about animalism, ethics, and criminals in Miller’s Crossing.
No Way Out
A race drama/thriller from the 1950s that helped introduce the world to Sidney Poitier, No Way Out follows Poitier as Dr. Luther Brooks, a young black doctor who loses a patient while performing a routine inspection. Unfortunately for him, this patient happened to be a hardened criminal, and his brother Ray (Richard Widmark) is steadfast in his belief that Brooks killed his brother on purpose. Using his influence in the criminal underworld, Ray’s ill-thought pursuit for revenge stokes the racial tensions that simmer openly in the Chicago streets. As violence threatens to erupt, Brooks and the chief medical officer of the hospital (Stephen McNally) race against the clock to try and prove Brooks’ innocence.
A tightly set-up story with great performances from it’s main cast, the film never reaches a level of import it’s reaching for. Maybe without the context of the time it lacks the emotional punches and intelligence we now expect out of our social dramas. Poitier proves his stardom with his unabashed and unforgiving performance as a doctor who could easily become a martyr. Widmark’s vitriol is powerful and hurtful, and the acid in his dialogue from writer-director Joseph L. Mankiewicz is a highlight of this somewhat stuffy racial drama.
Pan’s Labyrinth
Guillermo del Toro’s masterpiece, Pan’s Labyrinth follows our young protagonist Ofelia as she splits her time between the terrible reality of fascist Spain following the civil war and the dark fantastic realm she discovers within the labyrinth located outside her new home in the Spanish countryside. Ofelia, wishing to prove herself to be the long lost princess of the underworld, attempts to complete a series of tasks set out by the terrifying faun creature, all while her fascist stepfather attempts to maintain control over their isolated outcropping. As the real world descends into fear and chaos, Ofelia is consumed by her fantasy world, the blending of the two eventually leading the audience to question what is true and what is fantasy.
Del Toro’s mastery of the craft is at full display in this picture. The beautiful, horrific design of his creatures breathe life into the dark fantasy underworld, both frightening us and allowing us to see why Ofelia would be attracted to such a world. Ivana Baquero instills Ofelia with not just her natural child-like wonder but with a determination and relative ferocity that makes her a compelling protaganist, while Sergi Lopez is absolutely stunning in the depravity he brings to General Vidal. While it’s the creature work and the design that make this world complete, the performances of all the sipporting figures really takes this film from a creepy and effective fantasy to one of the best films of the 2000’s. An eerie, shocking, heartbreaking delve into depravity and dark phantasms.
Party Girl
A fun, light, exuberant dive into New York nightlife in the 1990s, Party Girl follows the titular party girl Mary (Parker Posey) as she tries to navigate life as a twenty-something in the Big Apple. Looking for some form of guidance in her life, she pursues work at a library run by her disapproving godmother (Sasha von Scherler), helps her DJ friend Leo (Guillermo Diaz) pursue work at the hottest club in town, and develops a relationship with a recent Yemenis immigrant Mustafa (Omar Townsend). Balancing all these disparate elements of her life while also trying to simply have a damn good time is all but impossible, and while she fails a few times along the way, Mary is eventually able to settle into a life of adulthood without compromising her passions.
I adored this film. Parker Posey is incredibly fun in the lead role, sexy, smart, and selfish enough to sell Mary as someone who could be successful if only she tried. The supporting characters are fun, if at times broadly drawn in their respective charactures. I was strongly reminded of She’s Gotta Have It, another film about an uncomprimising young woman navigating sex and love in New York City. Mary uses her sensuality like it’s a game, kissing her friends for a lark and never taking love seriously until she finds herself missing it. Director Daisy von Scherler Mayer gives the film an energetic and frothy style, making the library as exciting an environment as the nightclub. A fun, loving coming-of-age film that proves Parker Posey an ultimate star of the 90s (that said you will have to work really hard to ignore Liev Schreiber’s terrible British accent).
Sorcerer
One of William Friedkin’s best films, I was lucky enough to watch this for a guest appearance on the wonderful podcast ADHD DVD. To listen to our conversation about the brutality featured in this stark, hopeless film, click here.
The Watchers
Nepotism has never been something I consider to be a negative when it comes to the film industry. Rarely does anyone who is genuinely untalented or incapable rise to the point where their films become a burden on the box office or theatrical experience. On the contrary, time and time again we have seen that the children of artists often inherient their parents talents, and that growing up in a household that provides artistic freedom beckons growth out of the youth. So whenit was announced that M. Night Shyamalan’s daughter, Ishana Night Shymalan, would be directing her first feature, my interest was piqued. Few modern directors have such a heavy weight attached to their name (both positively and negatively) and if Ishana was able to capture the bravera styles of her father’s works, we could easily be seeing the emergence of a new horror auteur.
Unfortunately, The Watchers shows she may have learned all the wrong lessons from her father. Following Mina (Dakota Fanning), an American immigrant in Ireland, as she gets lost in the Irish forest, only to stumble upon a bizarre building and it’s trapped and paranoid residents, the set up is classic Shyamalan fare. A disturbing mystery, an overbearing sense of dread, and, much like many late stage Shyamalan, a complete unravelling of the tension come the third act. The reveal here is disappointing to say the least, robbing the film of any tension and intrigue. The trend of making horror films as a confrontation of trauma is weakly introduced and completely underbaked, leaving the ending ultimately feeling malformed and unearned. A promising premise that ultimately is unable to live up to it’s grand ideals.