Film: Computer Chess

Director: Andrew Bujalski
Genre: Drama/Comedy
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: C+

Somewhere along the way--I think right when I was nodding off around an hour in (I have to stop watching movies in bed as I'm going to sleep)--this movie took a turn for the weird. What started as a strangely realistic period piece about early 80s technophiles and programming geeks turned into the realm of trippy sci-fi and absurd therapy comedy in ways I was wholly unexpected.

Like No from earlier in my movie watching year, Computer Chess gets its retro feel in part from the cameras being used here. Shot on Sony AVC-3260 video cameras, the film has the slightly blurred black and white of the era, and when combined with the naturalistic acting and the period hair, make-up, and costumes, it really feels like a product of the past, which makes the sci-fi turns feel all the stranger when they come.

But it's not just sci-fi that is on display here. The movie has a comic aces up its sleeve as well. Though (like much of the film) not drawing particular attention to themselves, the repeated emphasis on the excitement of both chess masters and computer geeks alike that one of the teams has a woman on it is played just right--attempting to be professional and appropriate, but also giddily excited. It's a nice little touch that is both funny and adds to the film's realism.

Among the many threads Bujalski seems to be pulling at are the concepts of artificial intelligence and the development of reasoning and independent thinking. I think I'd need to see it again (and fully awake) to really process a little more what Bujalski is doing, but I like what I saw for the most part. Things get weird, but it's the kind of weird that seems to have some layers of meaning: how we connect to other people, how we create relationships, how we love--all of those things are distantly echoed as the programmers teach their computers to think.

I don't think the film will make a top ten list for me the way it has for some others, but I think there's a lot to contemplate here, and plenty to enjoy.

Film: The Hobbit - The Desolation of Smaug

Director: Peter Jackson
Genre: Action
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: A

What a great improvement over the first film.

I have to admit that part of the experience of the film was diminished due to a really poor projection by the less than interested employees at my local cinema, but that didn't prevent me from really enjoying Jackson's 5th Tolkien film--in fact, it's a step up in almost every way from the first of the Hobbit trilogy films.

Three major changes really helped this film work for me. First, it ditches the songs (for the most part) that may have been a really fantastic part of the book, but that really dragged in the Hobbit part one. Maybe this is a change that die hard Tolkien fans will not like, but for me it helped the world seem less frivolous and more focused. Second, he allowed the dwarfs (aren't there like 12 of them) to actually have a little bit of differentiation. There's the leader dwarf, the old dwarf, the dwarf who falls in love with Kate from Lost, the dwarf who's really fat, and so on and so forth. That may not sound like much, but I feel like it's gallons more characterization than we had in the first film, where they all seemed relatively interchangeable. Third, he emphasized meaningful action sequences with a lot of fun staging. The battle along the river and the confrontation with Smaug were particularly delightful to watch. Doing action has never been a challenge for Peter Jackson, but the mine sequence in the first Hobbit really fell mostly flat for me, so I was glad to see him back to creative and energetic staging here.

The film definitely feels like the middle chapter of a trilogy. It begins without really much reminder of who our characters are and what they're doing, and it ends right in the middle of what looks to be a large scale upcoming battle in the final film (Jackson seems to love his massive film battles, and though I don't think this will equal the size or scope of the Return of the King clashes, it still should be pretty hairy and fun). I'm guessing the Hobbit series will be a popular one to marathon for this reason, but either way I enjoyed it. I'm hoping that some of the new characters here (the human bargeman, for example) continue to get fleshed out in the last film.

As the final film I saw in the theaters in 2013, I was pretty pleased. I can't complain about the fun or spectacle . . . only about that terrible projection. I tried HFR with Hobbit 1 and just plain 3D with Hobbit 2. Neither really impressed me. Maybe I'll just plan on regular old digital projection for the series' final film.

I guess there's still a while to wait to see.

Film: The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Director: Ben Stiller
Genre: Comedy
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: B-

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is neither as bad as its detractors will say it is nor as good as its fans will claim it to be. And that's really its main problem. It doesn't know what it wants to be. Is it a bold adventure about seizing life (or at least going on vacation)? Is it an anthem to the power of dedication to even seemingly unimportant jobs? Is it a giant advertisement for Papa John's, Cinnabon, and eHarmony? Is it a goofy comedy or a sentimental heartstring puller? It's a little bit of all of those things, so it doesn't fully succeed at any of them (except maybe the advertisement. I mean, couldn't get much more blatant.)

The movie does have some great things going for it: there is a lot of bright and beautiful cinematography here, particularly of Greenland, Iceland, and Afghanistan (though I know it was shot in at least one of those places, I'm not positive that it was really in all three). There are some great funny moments that work well in the story also. Mitty's experiences in Greenland particularly are really engaging, with a great supporting role by a drunken giant Viking type that was unexpectedly funny. And that soundtrack! If you're a particular kind of 30-something white guy who likes slightly indy but also majorly mainstream music, then I have to believe you'll get sucked in to the musical selections. At least I did.

On the other hand, some of the choices here are just terrible. There are several slapstick sequences--some fantasy sequences, some not, some awful character work by the usually dependable Kathryn Hahn--that just are completely tonally mismatched with the more somber moments. Stiller also wants to celebrate himself a bit much more than is perhaps necessary, so at times it feels more than a little self-aggrandizing. And really, so much of the film is flat predictable that it removes some of the narrative punch. 

Anyway, at the end it was just too much of a mixed bag to really have a lot of impact, but it was still a nice little holiday experience reaffirming the hopefully obvious message that life is short so it's worth living. That's not a bad thing to remember at the end of the year.

And also, work hard I guess?

Book: The Dinner

There is a reason that both the front and the back cover of my paperback copy of The Dinner contain references to Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl. Herman Koch's novel reads like a blend between Flynn's 2012 best seller and Yasmina Reza's God of Carnage, with a little bit of foodie-ism thrown in for good measure. It's eminently readable--I read the whole thing on a flight from Salt Lake City to Atlanta--but that's not to say I entirely liked it.

In fact, I'm not sure what to make of it. Koch--like many modern authors--isn't particularly interested in creating characters that are likable or relatable, and his narrator Paul Lohman becomes increasingly off-putting and unreliable as the novel progresses. Though that creates some interesting plot twists, it at times is infuriating. In fact, I'm glad my wife was sitting next to me on the airplane, because I know I groaned aloud at a few points. Paul's narration becomes increasingly skewed as the novel progresses, and at first what seems to be slightly rude behavior soon becomes both explainable and horrible. 

At the heart of the novel are the questions of what it means to be a parent and what it means to protect one's children, since this dinner between the four main characters is to talk about a central act committed by their children. As a teacher I have seen parents lie, cheat, and steal for their children (though by no means is that all parents, just a small minority) and so many of the conversations between Paul, his wife, and his brother and sister-in-law were frighteningly believable. Unfortunately, not every twist in the book was as believable, and though it was silly at times it was still quite a page turner.

Grade: B-

Film: Saving Mr. Banks

Director: John Lee Hancock
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Carmike Wynnsong 12 at Riverwoods
Grade: B

There are two ways to look at Saving Mr. Banks, and I experienced both of them over the course of the movie. On the one hand it's a heartfelt tale of sentiment and forgiveness through the lens of author P.L. Travers' begrudging acceptance of and forgiveness of herself for the shortcomings she felt as a child. On the other hand it's a somewhat shameless piece of Disney self-promotion, in which the forgiveness mentioned above comes only through the warm touch and tender guidance of Walt Disney himself, a family man who only wants to tell stories that make children happy. I'd guess that both views fall far short of reality (I know Walt Disney wasn't all just sweetness and light, and I'd guess that Travers wasn't just a stand-offish cold fish until she came into contact with Disney), but the resultant blend in this film is at times eye-rolling but mostly effective. For me, that basically comes down to how much they sandwich in Walt Disney himself--saccharinely though ably played by current reigning "World's Most Likable Man" Tom Hanks. When Hanks-as-Disney is on screen, it just feels a little too much like propaganda. But when it's Travers' story, it's pretty compelling.

Emma Thompson is quite strong as a take-no-prisoners woman who wants things her way (an impression delightfully confirmed in the film's closing credits, when real audio tapes of her sessions with Mary Poppins screenplay and songwriters are played. Travers is mostly immune to the "magic" of Disney, and though the film requires a heart-softening and gives credit for it to Disney, it also allows her to work through her own history and trauma in some very moving sequences. Colin Ferrell's portrayal as her imaginative, loving, yet deeply troubled alcoholic father plays out in increasingly tragic flashback to illuminate her prickly attachment to her creations of Mary Poppins and the Banks family. This psychological drama portion of the film is much weightier and thought-provoking than I had expected walking in, and it really helped the film have some thoughtful substance.

And then we're back in Disneyland again, and there's old Walt making everything all better. The film doesn't only ask how you can forgive yourself or your alcoholic dad, but also how do you forgive a movie for being so overtly manipulative.

Saving Mr. Banks is well made, beautiful to look at, and it will be a crowd pleaser to those who see it--it's definitely heart-string tugging. But I can't help but think it would have been a much better film if someone besides Disney had made it. Maybe we could see a little more of the complexity on both sides of the divide. This film will make a few nods that way, but it's not willing to let Disney be anything other than the heroic father figure, and for that reason it goes from what could be a really great film to just being a really nice film to see with your family over the holidays.

Book: The Rook

The Rook hits a really great sweet spot between entertainment and espionage with a fair dose of comedy thrown in as well, and if I didn't always like the structure of the novel, author Daniel O'Malley more than makes up for it with his boundless creativity and originality. 

The Rook's cover bears the terrible phrasing "On Her Majesty's Supernatural Secret Service," and while that may be a convenient shorthand for the work of the government agency featured in the novel, fortunately that kind of awkward punning is not really representative of the novel as a whole. O'Malley tests the boundaries of patience with some of the names (the Chequey--pronounced "Sheck-Ay"--is the official name of the agency, while our heroine's name is Myfanwy--rhymes with Tiffany) but he is quick to find other ways to flesh out his world in more interesting ways. The Chequey has a long history in England, and that history allows O'Malley to make references to odd, hilarious, and terrifying plots from the institution's past. He doles out these anecdotes little by little, and by novel's end I think he had created a world nearly as well-developed as J.K. Rowling's.

Unfortunately one of the ways he does so (and really my only knock against the novel) is through huge info-dumps in the form of letters from one character to, well, herself. Because Myfanwy opens the novel with amnesia, and her former self had been warned and prepared for this outcome by writing her a whole series of letters about her life and history. It's a little too convenient, and though often the letters really do just flesh out the world, at a certain point it just becomes a bit much. Plus, though O'Malley obviously does, I don't really find the old Myfanwy as interesting as the new one, so I wasn't as keen to get back into her head space.

Still, the novel is absolutely fun enough that I'm willing to look the other way on the letters. The world Myfanwy inhabits isn't exactly magical--though some seemingly magic things, like the psychic warnings of her amnesia--seem to take place. It's more like a weird version of the X-Men, where the non-normal members of the Chequey all seem to possess some sort of weird and inexplicable power. It might be talking to trees, or seeping gases from your skin, or possessing a tentacle arm, or, in the case of Myfanwy, the ability to manipulate the systems and bodies of others. (As a side bonus, Myfanwy apparently also has the ability to be a really good and efficient government administrator). The agency is thus filled with quirky individuals from a vampire to a single individual with four bodies to a woman who can infiltrate (and influence) dreams. The whole Chequey is fascinating and fun, and I can't wait for another O'Malley novel (apparently he is already well underway with book 2 in what I can only hope will eventually be a series). He left plenty of threads tied off but not tied up (for example, who is Bronwyn's mysterious brother) that I think there will be a lot of room for development and character growth, in addition to the crazy world he's created.

I'm not sure who exactly to recommend this book to yet, but it was one of the most fun books I've read all year, so if X-Men meets spy games meets office politics meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer sounds like your kind of thing, well, it's a lot of fun.

Grade: A

Film: American Hustle

Director: David O. Russell
Genre: Comedy
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Island Cinema
Grade: A

Last year, when everyone was going crazy for David O. Russell's Silver Linings Playbook, I really wasn't feeling it. It was clever and funny and it had a few complicated layers of psychobabble on top of it, but mostly I found it a pretty by-the-numbers romantic comedy. Fun, but not necessarily deserving of all the praise heaped upon it.

Which is to say, I understand if people feel the same about American Hustle. It's a con film at heart with a lot of meandering plot lines and comedic cul-de-sacs (not dead-ends, just not necessarily adding a lot to the film). 

But man, I bought in this time. American Hustle is one of my favorite movie experiences of the year, and if, when I go to rewatch it, I find (as I did with one of my favorites from last year--Argo) that it doesn't hold up quite as well as I'd hoped, that shouldn't lessen the pleasure I got from the film in watching it the first time around. Knowing little to nothing about Abscam (other than having heard the name in some random history class at some point in my past), the film's twists and turns were unexpected and hilarious, and I couldn't help but wonder how much of the film was real, given the opening text--"Some of this actually happened."

What makes the film come alive, however, is the performances. Jennifer Lawrence's hilariously selfish housewife, Amy Adams' love-torn con artist, Bradley Cooper's perm, Christian Bale's paunch, his accent, his sad-dog charisma and desperation. All of these actors are having fun with the material, and though at times it's schizophrenic (Cooper particularly is kind of all over the place, but in a really entertaining way), there are moments of brilliance and a whole lot of comic gold. The film also makes the pathos work. There's a moment, for example, when Christian Bale stands in the middle of a rack of clothing at a dry cleaning establishment he owns, and in that moment he lets down the facades he has up for everyone and lets his inner sadness shine through. It's unexpected, as is his admission later in the film how deeply some of his betrayals have hurt him. I can see why some would find it uneven, but to me it hit the messiness of life really well.

Honestly, I'm not sure I can think of a movie I just flat out enjoyed more--and that's even with horrible seats (second row from the front on the edge) and a somewhat obnoxious audience. I like most everything Russell has done, but I hope he continues to work in this comedy-drama space where actors are free to push themselves harder. It really worked for me. This will almost definitely show up on my end of year top ten list. 

Film: Frances Ha

Director: Noah Baumbach
Genre: Comedy
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: A

Even when the transition to adulthood seems smooth, it's almost never easy. And if that transition is bumpy--if it turns out you're not the special little snowflake your teachers said that you were, that you don't have what it takes to be the artist, the adventurer, the genius that you thought you were--then it can be downright painful--or at the very least extremely clumsy.

That's the beauty behind Frances Ha. I think most people--even if we're not the slightly spoiled hipster flakes that Frances is--will be able to identify pieces of themselves in her "awkward man-walk" towards self-acceptance and maturity. As she dances her way through a series of apartments, roommates, friends, and lovers--watching as everyone around her seems to get themselves together more quickly and easily than she does--she starts to identify what she's capable of, as well as what she's not. It's not a story about settling, but it is a story about realigning your vision of yourself and your priorities for your life. 

Greta Gerwig, here a cowriter as well as the delightfully un-self-conscious titular Frances, gives a natural performance that is both sweet and shaky in all the right ways. When Frances, for example, decides to take a friend's advice and go to Paris (on a seemingly mindless whim) the trip is both more and less than she expected, and she can't quite bring herself to admit to anyone else who much she might have botched the adventure. But she also owns it, and whatever else the trip may have been, it is her trip--much like she increasingly learns to take account for her other choices as well.

Baumbach is here a lot more sympathetic to Frances than he has seemed to characters from other films, and the movie has an element of open-heartedness to it that I haven't seen from him in his other, to me more cynical, films. Perhaps that is Gerwig's influence, I'm not sure. Perhaps it is the vein of Woody Allen he is mining here (though Woody is not always someone I think of as warmhearted either). Allen's influence is clear--a black and white New York story centered on a quirky but intelligent lead. 

Ultimately, the film has me excited for Baumbach again. I hope the film marks a turn to slightly more sincere and less jaded work in the future. It works for him. 

Film: Drug War

Director: Johnnie To
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: A-

Johnnie To's Drug War starts out fast and steadily accelerates over the course of the film, culminating in one of the most intense shoot-outs on film since L.A. Confidential. Centered on one police detective and the drug dealer he holds under his thumb, the movie propels itself from one high-tension situation to the next particularly on the strength of its acting, editing, and tight scripting. As cop and criminal increasingly rely on each other, To explores the mirrored organizations that provide these two with support and strength. That mirroring becomes even more complicated as they bring the police officer undercover in order to further move up the ladder of the drug cartel.

Films like this make me wonder why the US often doesn't turn out action movies this focused and intense. Do I get distracted by recognizable actors? Do I get bored by plot lines that seem overly predictable, or that focus on spectacle rather than substance? Maybe. But maybe To's just a craftsman working with depth and not afraid to pull any punches.

I mean, that final shoot-out. It's one of the most shocking moments of the year for me, in part because he's got no fear in escalating the cost and the toll of the conflict. In the film's final moments, when handcuffs get involved on two separate characters, To allows the action itself to speak volumes about the lengths these two men will go in order to carry out their goals (or missions, or desires, or ideals). It's breathtaking and intense in all the best ways. Fantastic.

Book: Night Film

Night Film is the kind of book I wish I could write, not because it's the greatest thing I've ever read--I've got a few issues both with Pessl's style (who uses that many italics for no particular reason?) and with the content of the novel (at times McGrath is such an idiot as a narrator that I can't tell if it's bad writing or just a particular way of playing up a character's shortcomings). Rather, I fell for the book from the moment I read its jacket because it seems to create such a nice blend of so many of my favorite things: film, literary fiction, horror, noir, and more. Pessl has a ton of fun throwing everything at the wall and allowing us--and McGrath--to decide what is going to stick: is this a ghost story? A tale of witchcraft? Devil worship? Abuse? Something else entirely? It's not clear, until it is, and then it isn't again, which is a pretty great trick to pull off.

As I said, that doesn't make it perfect. I'm not sure I ever like McGrath--his motivations are always selfishly myopic (especially for someone who was as successful as a reporter as Pessl makes him), and his sidekicks are obtuse and obnoxious and a little bit too quirky to feel real. The story itself veers into camp a few times and loses the nice sense of suspense she builds for most of the novel.

For me, however, those types of minor issues are easily outweighed by the pleasure I got from reading the book. Pessl makes the book unusually multimedia heavy (you can even download an app and use it to enhance various parts of the novel, though I didn't do that myself), featuring magazine articles and covers, web pages, newspaper clippings, and more throughout the text. Though those elements didn't always feel natural, it wasn't nearly as awkward as, say, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children's use of photographs; instead it enriched the text and made it feel more like pieces of a life, which seems to be exactly what she was going for. 

Most impressively, I think Pessl does a pretty fine job creating a sense of foreboding and dread. Her reclusive filmmaker, Stanislas Cordova, is always hovering on the edges of the text, never quite clear in terms of purpose or role or goals, always changing from one thing to another (reclusive genius? evil madman? loving father? satanic murderer?), and so the inability to draw a definite outline around him makes him a figure of fear, a bogeyman who is never quite seen except out of the corner of your eye. It really works, as do her descriptions of his films. They come across as a product of some kind of Polanski/Kubrick/Lynch blend that plums the darkest parts of our hearts and so hints at some darkness in the filmmaker's own life. I couldn't help but thinking of films like Repulsion where that line between sanity and insanity seems to increasingly blur, and even without showing us a lot of blood or guts we can be horrified and frightened. Cordova's films seem to function in a similar way.

I don't think it's the best book of the year--I haven't read enough from the year to make that proclamation, but even if I had there are enough rough patches here to make me question it from a literary standpoint. But it is still one of my favorite reads of the year. A great book to read next to a dark window on a cold night.

Film: Spring Breakers

Director: Harmony Korine
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Amazon Prime Streaming
Grade: C-

Ah, Spring Breakers, I wish I could buy into you the way everyone else seems to. I know most of my complaints will seem trite and close-minded: your black light colors are annoying; your characters are almost entirely one-dimensional, obnoxious, and dumb; your analysis of spring break as a cultural phenomenon seems to come down to "Everybody wants it, but it's ultimately corrupting and hollow" which is kind of, you know, duh; your plot is dumb; you have a machine gun ballet to a Britney Spears sing along. And let me be clear: discontinuity editing and dreamy voice over does not in itself make for art. You come off as desperately wanting to be a 21st century MTV tinged Terrance Malick, and as much as I couldn't look away from the screen, I never felt like I was getting anything particularly thoughtful out of you. In fact, so much of what you did hit the nail on the head (what's your religious character's name? Faith. What's she shout when things get bad? "I didn't think it would be like this." Profound.) that it was practically student film silly--though clearly with better acting and more technical flair. 

Still, I just don't think Korine's indictment of youth culture makes a statement as profound as it's getting credit for. Or rather, I just don't think it's a new statement, though he may present it in a candy-colored, in-your-face strobe of contemporary consumerist frenzy. I mean, Dean Wormer said it like forty years ago:

Skinny, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son.

I will say this for the film: Unlike its characters, it does have ambition, and that's embodied best in the fantastic and no-holds-barred performance of James Franco. His Alien is such an out of control character, and Franco empties himself out of his Franco-ness and makes that character live, breath, and sweat his own American dream with every moment he's on screen. Shorts in every color, ya'll. (That monologue might be one of the best moments of the year, as much as I really found myself put off by this film.) His performance here pretty much single-handedly kept this movie from being an F for me. It is pretty fantastic. It's as good as the rest of the film left me cold. And that's saying something. 

I get the draw to the film, I think. The film has improved in the days since I watched it, and there are plenty of images and moments that stuck with me a lot more than I expected. It has an impact, so I could see myself liking it more with a second viewing or with time. And to its credit, I don't know any other filmmaker besides Korine who would or could make this film, and so that kind of strong directorial vision is worthy of some recognition and praise. It's just not a vision that really worked for me.

Perhaps I'll change my mind down the line, but for now, I won't have this movie on repeat. On repeat, ya'll.

Film: Blackfish

Director: Gabriela Cowperthwaite
Genre: Documentary
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: A

Maybe the best documentary I've seen this year, Blackfish will make you never want to set foot in a Sea World again. 

There are a lot of Sea World apologists out there defending the company's practices for the millions of dollars it brings to marine research and spurring children's imaginations, and those are undeniable goods. But Blackfish makes an equally compelling argument that these animals are mistreated--even by those with the best of intentions--due to the inferior quality of life Sea World provides them with. From not having the space they deserve to breaking up killer whale families to causing whales to die young, the film does a really great job illustrating how this is at its heart an unethical business practice with moral implications if you care at all for how animals are treated. It wasn't flag waving, but in the story of Tilikum--a killer whale responsible for the deaths of multiple people who is still on display at Sea World (mostly, the film argues, because he provides sperm)--Blackfish exposes the gap between Sea World's public face and what seems to be happening behind the scenes (or even at times in front of the scenes, though such occurrences don't always get a lot of publicity). 

Some of the footage is heart-breaking. The sailor who describes capturing baby whales as the most immoral thing he's ever done. The mother whales keening for their calves when they are separated and shipped to separate facilities. The whales with scarring up and down their bodies. 

Some of the footage is terrifying. The footage of attacks--the woman whose arm is broken, the man who is repeatedly pulled under--is seriously horrifying. Fortunately director Gabriela Cowperthwaite doesn't force us to watch the recordings of the actual killings, but make no mistake, she shows us the terrifying power of these whales.

What I found most of all was that this is film making that is empathetic. Interviewing former trainers--who really do love the whales, and now see the Sea World business as one with a lot of problems--interviewing witnesses, interviewing scientific experts, what comes out most of all is that all of these people care about whales. The goal here does not seem to be to close down Sea World. The goal is to get people to see that we really can't provide these creatures with a suitable substitute for freedom, like we can with smaller animals. They need space, they need families, they need to be treated as more than just giant trained puppies. 

I can imagine there'll be a lot of pushback from those who see the film as sensationalist or have no sympathy for the cause of animal rights. I'm living in the South after all; for some animal rights is a silly concept. But I found the film hugely compelling and thought-provoking.

Film: Berberian Sound Studio

Director: Peter Strickland 
Genre: Horror
Source: UK (2012)
Rating: Unrated (R?)
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: C

Again I feel like I have to take a major portion of the blame for not enjoying this movie more than I did. It's a well-crafted homage both to foley artists and sound mixers everywhere, as well as to Italian horror films in particular. Unfortunately, I know absolutely nothing about the latter, and so the techniques that seemed so so rich and compelling early in the film eventually left me a little bored, waiting for something more. I can't help but wonder if better knowledge of the tropes and tricks of Italian horror would have given me the extra boost I needed to completely get wrapped up in the movie.

Director Peter Strickland does a few things really well in this film. As mentioned, the film is a love letter to the art of film sound, and we see countless shots of Toby Jones' Gilderoy (and his coworkers) mixing levels, reading effects charts, and carefully recreating horrific sound effects to the apparently depraved film they are making. In a brilliant decision, we never actually see footage of the film they are working on, and yet we become increasingly horrified--as does Gilderoy--due to the graphic dialogue, his disgust as he watches the screen, and the sounds we see him creating. Rotting vegetables, frying meat, even actors in studios making noises with their mouths--all of these become cringe-inducing as we are left to imagine the horrors that these sounds would be associated with. It's really effective.

Similarly, the film is intensely claustrophobic and hugely effective in creating an oppressive atmosphere. Gilderoy never seems to venture outside--or at least Strickland chooses him not to show him there. Instead he wanders corridors and stands in sound studios, so not only do we get no exterior shots, we don't even see a window to look out of (there are a couple of exceptions to this closed-in concept that I won't get into here). The whole space feels restrictive and oppressive, and as Gilderoy's sanity (maybe? or just dreams? or reality?) gets looser and looser this disconnect from anything natural makes him increasingly seem like a prisoner unable to escape his captors. It really is disconcerting.

So with these great elements in play, I wish the film had gone somewhere a little more than it did. The climax, if it can be called that, is ambiguous, which isn't inherently a bad thing, but in this case it turns out to be quite unsatisfying. It left me feeling like the previous 90 minutes were a little bit of a waste. That's not the way you want to leave a film.

So though the first half or so of the film really works well in creating atmosphere, the second half doesn't pay off like it could have. A bit of a let down.

Film: The Amityville Horror

Director: Stuart Rosenberg
Genre: Horror
Source: USA (1979)
Rating: R
Location/Format: DVR
Grade: C

I've got a pretty solid track record in terms of going for 70s horror. Rosemary's Baby and The Shining (at the outer edges of that era with '68 and '80 respectively) are two of my favorite horror movies. And Stuart Roseberg's Cool Hand Luke is in my top 50 films. So I was primed and excited to really love The Amityville Horror. 

The problem was, it just didn't really compel me.

The film had elements that I really liked, Josh Brolin being number one on that list. His George Lutz (though I admit every time someone called him Lutz I thought of 30 Rock) becomes increasingly unhinged, and Brolin's beard, his hair, his red-rimmed eyes--all combine to make him look genuinely insane and unkempt. (I have to wonder if this is the type of transformation from good-natured family man to possible psychopath that Stephen King was hoping for in his novel's adaptation, since he always criticizes Jack Nicholson's casting in The Shining). He did have an electric performance on screen.

I also like the way the film doesn't actually show evil spirits or anything like that. There are physical signs (the blood in the stairs remains a really great effect, and though the flies didn't work for me I like the idea behind them) and sounds ("Get out") but the demons/ghosts/monsters remain hidden, which makes them a little more frightening. Instead they seem to manifest through people's increasingly wild behavior. I like that.

So why didn't the film pull me in? Is it because the Catholic priest story line with Rod Steiger seemed dead on arrival? Is it because some of the effects look a little dated and silly now? Is it because I was watching it on a Sunday afternoon rather than a Friday night?

I don't know, but this one just doesn't crack my horror pantheon. I'd not be opposed to watching it again, but I probably won't seek it out or try and share it with others the way I do with the two horror classics mentioned above. 

I wonder if the remake or the sequels are any good.

Film: Philomena

Director: Stephen Frears
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Island Cinema
Grade: B-

I have to admit, Steve Coogan's presence in this film--and the trailers that emphasized all the funny parts--led me to believe this would be more of a comedy than it was. Yes, perhaps that was a little short sided given that it's a story of a woman searching for the son she was forced to give up for adoption fifty years earlier, but come on! Steve Coogan! Lots of jokes about her eccentric way of looking at the world! It could have happened!

The fact that this is pretty straightforwardly a drama and my own misguided expectations may go a long way to explaining why I never quite connected with the movie, and the fault is certainly my own. Coogan and Judi Dench both give strong performances, and the climactic confrontation scene is really effective in some unexpected ways. In several key scenes Dench embodies her character with depth and faith that could otherwise get lost in the "odd old bird" that Coogan sees and that often rises to the top.

Where the film shines is in its complex portrayal of faith. Coogan's Martin Sixsmith can't even be nailed down on whether he believes in God or not. He's world weary, cynical, and sees faith as something somewhat quaint but ultimately simplistically self-deceptive. Dench's Philomena can see simplistic, passive, even aggravatingly slow in not identifying the wrongs that have been done to her by the Catholic church and the Magdalene Institutions that forced young mothers to give up their babies for adoption. She wants answers, but she's afraid of them. And her faith, which seems so simple and unwavering, never seems to be anything but blind. But as the film progresses Dench allows Philomena's inner resolve to shine through, and director Frears (and writers Jeff Pope and, what do you know again, Steve Coogan) emphasize that faith, and forgiveness, and acceptance are choices, and they are not easy choices. 

Is the film a product of Catholic apologists? Or is it simply suggesting that perhaps cynicism in some cases is the easier choice? Maybe both?

Whatever it is, it doesn't fully plumb those issues enough to really work for me, and tonally it couldn't fully make up its mind whether it was a buddy road trip movie or a dramatic investigation or a biopic. It didn't come together as much as I'd hoped it would, but it wouldn't surprise me to see it find an audience. I just am not that audience.

Film: Out of the Furnace

Director: Scott Cooper
Genre: Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: B-

In the time between when the movie closed and now, as I sit down to write this review, I have to admit that my feelings about the film have dipped somewhat. Leaving the theater I felt like it would probably be a B+ type of film, but now that I have had some time to stew on it I find I'm thinking more in the B-/C+ range. Out of the Furnace nearly drowns in its own gravitas, and while there are a lot of good actors acting well, I can't help but feel the characters they were given are somewhat flat. Woody Harrelson--terrifyingly mean as the awkwardly named Harlan DeGroat--really does come across as menacing and cruel (and I even missed the opening scene, which according to Adam and Josh on Filmspotting was really strong), but he doesn't come across as anything else. He does it all for the money and the drugs, one character tells us. But he spends all his time hanging out in flophouses and abandoned buildings in the woods. What's he spending on that money on? I have no clue, because the film gives us no indications that he's anything other than a capital-B capital-M Bad Man.

Christian Bale has more to do, but it would also be easy to boil his character down to "stoic and tortured." He's clearly set up as a Christ figure--showing mercy in one heavy-handed scene of parallel editing, while the other half of the scene features incredible violence--and he makes good sad faces, but I'm not sure why the film even bothered to put him through some of the stuff it did (what did his jail beating accomplish, for example, besides show us yet again that jail is not a place you want to be). I just felt like more could have been done with the character. Same goes for Casey Affleck, Forrest Whitaker, and Sam Shepherd. (After Mud earlier this year, Sam Shepherd may have finally cemented his place as the go-to "blue collar character actor for films set in small working class towns." It's a good gig if you can get it, I suppose.) Everyone acquits themselves well, but the story just doesn't really go anywhere. It just trudges down a dark path and keeps going.

In the end, good acting is just not enough to save the film, and though it was fine, it wasn't the noteworthy film I was hoping it would be. Maybe I had just been expecting too much due to the excellent use of Pearl Jam in the trailer.

Book: Ghost Story

Well this was a disappointment.

Horror lit is one of my favorite genres (I know, I'm a man of low class tastes), and when I perused Flavorwire's 50 Scariest Books of All Time list I was sure I would get some good suggestions. I'd already read 19 of the suggestions, andI don't like gore, really, or descriptions of torture, so some of the books didn't strike my fancy. But ghost stories? Stories of the supernatural? That's right down my strike zone. For that reason,I was pretty excited about the 4th recommendation on the list: Peter Straub's Ghost Story, a 1979 novel about a group of old men who may have brought their worst fears into existence.

That sounds like a pretty good kernel for a novel, and there were a few passages that really were gripping and compelling--Sears' story of Fenny and Gregory, for example, was grim and oppressive, an echo of The Turn of the Screw that really worked. Don's story of his mysterious love affair with Alma was also not bad.

Overall, though? This was incredibly dull. The characters were one-dimensional, the dialogue sounded false on almost every note, and it just wasn't as scary as I was expecting. Or at all, really, other than the two exceptions above. I had to force myself to get through it so that I could move onto something more interesting. 

Part of the problem is that I don't feel like Straub had a handle on his narrative structure. We had a weird omniscient narrator--or maybe limited omniscient?--that bounced from character to character and made them fairly indistinguishable from one another. Structurally we moved back and forward in time as well, but not in a particularly compelling fashion. Straub comes off here like a second rate Stephen King, which is ironic, because their collaboration The Talisman was pretty good, and I know Stephen King is a big fan of this novel as well.

For me, however, there wasn't a lot of there there, and this may end up as my most anticlimactic read of 2013 after my initial excitement of ordering it. When pressing the "Checkout" button on Amazon is the best part of the reading experience, however, I can't help but feel let down.

Grade: D

Film: The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Director: Francis Lawrence
Genre: Sci-Fi Drama
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: B+

A solid film--and a definite improvement over the first movie--that somehow I found myself unable to fully connect with. I'm not clear on why exactly, since I like the people involved (though I love Jennifer Lawrence, she still seems like a too-womanly choice to play this teen heroine to me), I like the dystopian world, and there are a lot of fun twists and turns. Perhaps it's because I remembered most of them from the book?

That is the danger of adaptation, of course, and has been since the first filmmakers tried their hand at adapting stories for the screen. (What was the first? Edison's Frankenstein? That would be worth looking up...) I'm not opponent to adaptation, and I don't think a bad adaptation of a book in any way hurts the book, or that a good adaptation supersedes it. By most measures I can think of, Catching Fire is a good adaptation. But there's a level of "been there done that already" to the whole affair that agitates me a little bit. First of all, on a basic plot level, it's really similar to the first book/movie (and that was a problem I had with the book as well): Katniss is in the Hunger Games, against her will, trying to stay alive, not sure who to trust, not clear on the political repercussions of her actions. Is that the plot of book one or book two? Yes. Sure, it's all on a bigger scale than the first time, but not so much so that it overwhelms. Second, knowing that it's the middle of a trilogy, there's no question of her survival, and you know this is just a lead up to a bigger final act. So some of the drama gets sapped. It's all fine, I suppose, in that it gave me exactly what I expected. But that's also my problem: It gave me exactly what I expected. 

There are a few exceptions to that. There's a scene early in the film, during Katniss' victory tour, that really is pretty powerful and moving, and Lawrence's shock at the events that she indirectly causes is quite effective. She does a fine job with the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that Katniss would certainly have. And she's just a fun actress to watch, no matter what she's working with. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is also quite good and understated in his role as Plutarch Heavensbee (man, the names in this thing). And the climax really is pretty exciting and appropriately chaotic. 

I am looking forward to the next film, I just want to be drawn in a little more than I was. 

Film: Shakespeare High

Director: Alex Rotaru
Genre: Documentary
Source: USA (2011)
Rating: Unrated (PG-13ish?)
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: C-

Shakespeare High--about a major high school Shakespeare competition in California--should have been right in my sweet spot. I love documentaries, I was a theater nerd, and I'm a current high school English teacher. Somehow, though, the whole thing fell flat. The filmmakers spent so much time trying to be inspiring that they didn't really pull me in to the drama of the various characters lives (and perhaps we followed a few too many teams, meaning we never got to know any of them well enough). There are two exceptions to that that itself seems to come straight out of a cheesy movie script: the plucky inner city team made up of former gang bangers and tough guys who band together in their scene to find friendship and success. I mean, this should be gold, and it is pretty compelling--so much so that some of the other teens and teachers featured end up coming across as spoiled and a bit cliche. (Though the teacher sure that her team's lack of trophies means there was a conspiracy afoot is herself pretty entertaining, though again in kind of a stereotypical way.) The other story that stood out is that of the African American brothers whose father murdered their mother. The scene they were a part of? Othello's murder of Desdemona. There are some serious Freudian things going on here, and I wish the film had had the guts to pursue them a little more.

That said, perhaps because this was sponsored by Kevin Spacey--an alumnus of this program and someone who obviously has fond memories for it--the film isn't really asking very many interesting questions of or about the competition. It touches on whether scenes performed in the original are of parity with scenes rewritten, turned into song, etc. It basically ignores the judging process and how scenes advance. And it makes a clarion cal for theater saving high school students and creating successful adults in the future (though the three alumni they spotlight are all "celebrity" names--let's see what some other winners have gone on to do!), but it just felt like a student made fan film more than an interesting look at the phenomenon. 

As I said, I was into theater in high school, and so some of what the film wanted to explore echoed with me. It just didn't do it all that well.

Film: Primer

Director: Shane Carruth
Genre: Sci-Fi Drama
Source: USA (2004)
Rating: PG-13
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: B+

Without question, the pleasure of this film comes from trying to piece together exactly what happened and the shock of discovering (as you watch) that things are not what you understood them to be. An additional piece of that pleasure comes from scouring the Internet for theories and explanations for what occurred, as individuals try to explain every technological and chronological aspect of the film. Many refer to it as the best time travel movie ever, and while I'm not sure I agree (I'm sorry, but Timecrimes knocked my socks off, and Back to the Future will always hold a special place in my heart, as ridiculous as it may be), it is without question intensely committed to the realism of its central time travel conceit--from the technological gibberish at the film's opening, to the carefully thought about "rules" of how this system works, to the willingness not to explain several seemingly important details (like physical deterioration, etc.). It's all very fun, wrapped up in a veneer of intensity and seriousness. Though I think if I had come to the film without having heard so often how great it was, I might have liked it even more. It had a lot of expectation to live up to.

What does still blow my mind is the fact that director Shane Carruth was able to pull off as much as he did for only $7,000. I mean, $7,000! That's like, a fraction of the craft services budget on a modest Hollywood film! Sure, it means give and take in the acting department, and creating a little more confusion as to who's doing what than is necessary due to special effects constraints, and in generic sets and sometimes bad lighting. But still, Carruth takes those limitations and makes them work in some seriously impressive ways. He may not be my favorite independent filmmaker, but he's certainly an exciting one. I'll have to check out his second film, Upstream Color, in the near future. If he can create something like this on $7,000, imagine what he could do if someone tossed a little money his way.

I hope something special.