If you're familiar will this blog, you will have noticed by now that most of the films I discuss are films I like. If I dislike a movie, I take no pleasure in deconstructing it.
Likewise, if I see a wildly entertaining blockbuster that essentially has no real substance, there's nothing to write about.
For instance, I've adored some
of the action films from earlier this summer, like "Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol 2" or "Wonder Woman." But I just don't have anything to say about this.
But I do have to speak about this. "Spider-man: Homecoming" was just a complete effing mess.
After watching it with Joia, you know her as Mrs. Spice, I just stood up and said, "Honey, I have to say something. That sucked asssssss!"
She agreed and said she wished she had brought her Kindle so she could read during this horribly paced, seemingly endless disaster.
To be fair, there was one sequence that was about five minutes long during a confrontation between Peter and the villain. It was terse and made my heart sink into my bowels.
So, out of a 2h 14m cluster-eff, there's about five good minutes buried within.
I'm not going to go on about it. Just don't say I didn't warn you.
Have you ever noticed that fine-art horror movies are much more vicious than what you'll find on the mainstream track? Filmmaker Ben Young's feature debut, "Hounds of Love" is either a brilliant, terrifying film, clearly influenced by movies like John McNaughton's 1986 masterpiece, "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer" or it's a complete, unnecessary mess. I haven't quite decided yet which it is, but I'm leaning toward the former. Like "Henry," "Hounds" can be a very hard film to watch. It's certainly not for the squeamish. If you're itching for a standard horror or serial killer flick, you'd better as hell look somewhere else because "Hounds" does not fit any kind of mold you're used to. The story follows John and Evelyn White, a couple who passes their time abducting, torturing and killing teenage girls. Evie looks like the lovechild of the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt and Aunt Lydia from The Handmaid's Tale. That's not really a crucial detail, but I felt the need to point it out, nonetheless. Our protagonist is Vicki Maloney, a young lady, pissed off at her mother for not letting her go to a party. Naturally, just like any teenager would, she sneaks out of the house. As she walks to the party, a car pulls up, offering weed and a ride. Unfortunately, even though the weed seems up to par, the couple in the car are John and Evelyn, the killer duo. The saga continues over the next few days as John and Evelyn torture, terrorize and sexually assault this poor girl.
I'm not going to tell you whether Vicki lives or dies. I'm just going to say that at first, the ending feels psychologically implausible.
But Young sells it nevertheless. In the end, what we're left with an empty pit in our stomach and an uneasy feeling that very much is wrong in the world.
"Beatriz at Dinner" is easily the most important
film to come out since Jordan Peele's "Get Out" from earlier this
year.
It tells the story about one rare evening where a member of
the working class is put in a position where she has to socialize with the
bourgeoisie.
Beatriz, played with beautiful subtlety by Salma Hayek, is a masseuse who finds herself stranded at a
wealthy clients' house. The mistress of
the house, Cathy, invites her to stay for a dinner party starting very soon and
involving some very "important" people. It's important throughout the film to
remember that at the start, Cathy really is a likable person.
The most crucial of the guests Beatriz will be spending the evening with is Doug Strutt, a pig of a real
estate mogul, played masterfully by John Lithgow. The strength of Lithgow's performance lies in
his refusal to simply paint this man as a villain. He never lets us forget the wickedness in his
heart for a second, nevertheless showing us glimpses of humanity in his eyes. He even betrays a slight, peculiar fondness
for bizarre but intriguing woman, Beatriz.
The bulk of the film shows Beatriz arguing with these
characters, especially Strutt, about all manner of moral issues while handling
condescension and racial slurs through the night.
Narcissism is the best word to sum up the nature of these ladies
and gentlemen.
One telling sequence involves lighting up "wish
lanterns" and letting them go over the canyon. One of them jokes that they'll be put in jail
if he set fire to the area. Another says
their lawyer friend will just get them off. That's goes right to the center of who these people are. Whether or not a fire is set and people are
endangered is really of no consequence. It's only about the possible penalties for them.
Courage is really Beatriz' most prominent character
quality. You can tell she would be more
comfortable letting some of these heinous comments and attitudes slide, but she
won't. She is meek by nature, but
willing to be bold when she needs to be.
I kept waiting for that moment when these characters would
realize how appalling they were behaving and that Beatriz was right more often
than not through the evening.
If the ending feels unsatisfying, it's meant to be. The film refuses to tie everything with a
trite, happy ending, instead of leaving us with a solid, bleak picture of the shameful way
things really are right now in this country.
For the first act of "The Dinner," you will have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on.
At the start of "The Dinner," Paul, (Steve Coogan) his wife, Claire, (Laura Linney) are getting ready to have dinner with Paul's brother and U.S. Congressman, Stan (Richard Gere) and his wife, Katelyn (Rebecca Hall.)
Coogan gives the most memorable performance of the film. He plays Paul as a neurotic, like a subdued Woody Allen.
Paul stubbornly insists on staying home and skipping the dinner. There's history aside from this crisis and Paul clearly wants to avoid it.
The get-together is the stage for a confrontation. This is urgent business that pulls Stan away from the demands of his office and forces to focus, just for one evening, on his family.
Filmmaker Oren Moverman takes us back and forth between our quaint table of four and to sequences of events past.
Paul and Claire's son, Michael, as well as his cousin Rick, Stan and Katelyn's son, are in trouble. There is a recording of the boys viciously attacking a homeless women who was trying to sleep in an ATM vestibule.
Not only is there surveillance footage, but the boys recorded the event on their phones.
Now, the depraved recording may be released and the boys will be exposed.
The third act, when the cards slowly lay themselves down on the table, is as intense as any suspense film.
As we learn more about the perverse attack, expect your sympathies to switch from one character to another.
One thing Moverman does masterfully is surprise us through the film, changing our perspectives of the different characters. The one member of the quartet who seems like a rational adult, the one who keeps the family at peace at first, is revealed as a cold monster in one scene toward the end.
"The Dinner" wears many hats. It's a mystery and a thriller. It's about inter-family antagonism and racial hostility. It's about thriving and failing marriages. It's a rare look inside the head of a mentally ill man. And it's a story of unshakable, if misplaced, love.
The character, who comes off as busy, stand-offish and shallow in the first act, turns out to be the one in the group who has a conscience.
The imagery of the film is heavy-handed to say the least. The brothers' conflict is illustrated through Paul's obsession with the Civil War. And there's a shot of Paul's reflection in a broken mirror, and overused and obvious picture of mental illness.
But these are minor complaints.
"The Dinner" has been marketed as a drama, but it's as unsettling as most horror film I've seen and more suspenseful than most thrillers.
Prepare yourself to be ashamed to be a human being. then, for the love of God, watch this film.
"Loving" is the story of Ruth and George Edgerton, two lovers whose marriage flourishes in the face of a society of hate. This film is a gem from last year that was unjustly overlooked. It follows the story of an interracial couple, Richard and Mildred Loving and their battle from their first arrest in Caroline County, Virginia right up the historic Supreme Court ruling that banned laws persecuting interracial couples. Right from the start, we look through a window right into to intimacy and warmth of Mildred and Richard's relationship. It's a very muted opening scene. We see the two of them their faces and bodies just so close to each other. There are only a few sentences of dialogue, but director Jeff Nichols shows us their love rather than ruining the beautiful moment with words. The film takes us through the lives of the Lovings as they fall in love and establishing a family while facing seemingly rock-hard, enduring persecution. Their fight starts when the couple is arrested for the crime of entering into an "unnatural" marriage. It follows the Lovings as the couple turn their romance turns into a solid, devoting family.
But their love comes with a price. The Lovings are arrested by Caroline County officials and ordered to split up or leave the state. They choose to move to D.C. and start their lives there. But more trouble comes when they visit Virginia so she could have her baby there. They are arrested again and when they get back to D.C., their fight begins in earnest. The ACLU hears of their case and of course, they take an interest. Of course, the ending is a part of our history. The Supreme Court made a significant decision during the battle happening across the country for civil liberties. Often, people look back on the 50's with such nostalgia. That era is remembered by many as a wholesome time, just like on "Leave it to Beaver," "Father Knows Best," etc. But "Loving" reminds us that the times were oppressive for so many Americans. I found myself thanking God that kind of institutionalized racism is a thing of the past. Then I remembered that Jeff Sessions is our Attorney General. "Loving" is one of those films that tries to be two things at once. And it accomplishes it beautifully. The film is a wonderful, touching romance and an invigorating political at the same time. You probably missed it the first time around, so seek it out now. This film will be watched and discussed for years and ignoring it would be a desperate injustice.
The concept of "Passengers" is a simple one: Robinson Caruso in Space (Or Gilligan's Island, whichever you like.)
What could possibly go wrong? Jim finds out exactly what could go wrong when his pod malfunctions and he wakes decades before the ship reaches its destination.
So Jim is stuck. He'll die long before anyone else on the ship will wake up and his only source of help or conversation is a robotic bartender.
Then, it occurs to Jim that if he needs a companion, he'll have to deliberately sabotage a pod so a girl he's become enamored with can keep him company.
Yes, he's caught a touch of Space Madness after being alone for more than a year.
Still, his plan is the most cruel and selfish solution to his problem he could ever imagine. So, he wakes Aurora and of course, the two bond.
Then, Aurora finds out that what happened to her pod was no accident.
As the Earth becomes more and more populated, the human race has turned to populating other planets. Jim Preston is a passenger on a ship on its way to one of these planets. It's a 90-year trip and the passengers and crew are in hibernation until their arrival. Jim had woken her. And when he did, he robbed her of her life. She wants nothing more to do with them, which is problematic seeing as how they're the only 2 conscious people on the ship. "Passengers" tries to make a statement about isolation and self-service, but it falls short into a tedious, predictable plot with 2 characters who are simply not believable. The only sequence one could enjoy is the tense minutes in which Aurora, taking a swim, is suddenly trapped inside a water bubble when the gravity shuts down. It's a cool, tense sequence. It's not convincing at all when Aurora decides to forgive Jim. Just as I'm not sure whether or not I'll ever forget Tyldum for making me sit through a two-hour exercise in how to sit through two hours of torture.