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Film Features Film/TV

The Current War

The two stories of The Current War are both fascinating in their own way. The first is the actual story told by director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and writer Michael Mitnick: In 1879, Thomas Edison’s team invented the incandescent light bulb in his Menlo Park, New Jersey, laboratory. To the masses who spent way too much of their time trying not to burn down their houses with candles or asphyxiate themselves with gas lights, the clean, steady light from the bulb seemed like magic. But the bulbs, and new applications for electricity being developed by industrialists like George Westinghouse, couldn’t run without juice. In 1880, unless you had a dynamo in your back shed, you were out of luck. Thus, the most pressing problem for engineers in the early Gilded Age was how to get electricity into businesses and private homes all over the country.

Benedict Cumberbatch (above) stars as inventor Thomas Edison in The Current War.

There were two possible solutions: direct current (DC), where the electrons flow through the circuit in one direction like water in a river; and alternating current (AC), where the electrons shuffle back and forth through the circuit like line dancers. DC is the simplest and most versatile. You can run lights, motors, and anything else you can dream up on DC, but the stream of electrons tends to peter out over long distances. AC is more complex to implement, and in 1880, you could run a light bulb, not a motor, from it. But you can transmit AC power over thousands of miles without significant power loss if you crank up the voltage high enough.

Edison had spent all of his time experimenting with DC and had developed short-range distribution systems, which he first implemented in densely populated New York City. But most of America is much more spread out, and a new coal-smoke-belching power plant every square mile was only an attractive prospect to the guy who would get paid to build them. AC transmission, which Westinghouse favored, was much more efficient, but the high voltage carried with it a danger that didn’t even have a name yet: electrocution.

Michael Shannon as George Westinghouse

The Current War is the story of how Edison (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Westinghouse (Michael Shannon) waged a two-decade contest to decide how the world would be wired. It was a conflict that played out in laboratories, in boardrooms, in the media, and, in the film’s telling, climaxed at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair. The wild card came in the person of Nikola Tesla (Nicholas Hoult), the immigrant super-genius who, among other things, figured out how to run a motor on AC power. Tesla first went to work in Edison’s proto-corporate invention mill, quit to go into business for himself, and then sold out to Westinghouse.

You can’t fault Gomez-Rejon and Mitnick for lack of ambition. This is a complex story with huge historical repercussions and potentially something to say about our own late-stage capitalist moment. But that’s where the other story of The Current War comes in. The film originally premiered at the Toronto Film Festival in 2017. Producer Harvey Weinstein was not pleased with the reception there, so he took it from the director and was re-editing it when multiple sexual assault and rape charges ended his career and collapsed the Weinstein Company. After extensive bankruptcy litigation, Gomez-Rejon regained control of the film and made his own improvements. Thus, the version that goes into wide release this week is subtitled “Director’s Cut.”

I was not at Toronto in 2017, so I don’t know how much of the movie has changed since then, but something about The Current War doesn’t feel right. It somehow manages to be simultaneously undercooked and fussed-over. I generally advocate for shorter films, but this is a lot of material to pack into 107 minutes. For big chunks of its running time, it feels like a sizzle reel for The Current War mini-series. Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you made an entire picture along the lines of a Rocky training montage? If so, this is the film for you. Edison and Westinghouse take turns doffing their hats and proclaiming their latest accomplishments while years fly by. Tesla, the most genuinely interesting character, feels like an afterthought.

Nicholas Hoult as Nikola Tesla

And that’s a shame because the cast, which also includes the underrated Katherine Waterston as Westinghouse’s wife Marguerite Erskine Walker and Tom Holland as Edison’s right-hand man Samuel Insull, are clearly committed to the project. When Shannon and Cumberbatch finally confront each other at the World’s Fair, the scene crackles. The cinematography by Chung-hoon Chung is frequently exceptional, with compositions that seem to come out of a Gilded Age Harper’s Bazaar illustration.

I didn’t hate this film. There’s a great movie hiding in there somewhere, but it’s ironic that a story about capitalist greed and executive malfeasance threatening scientific advance and engineering progress seems to have been thrown off track by executive malfeasance.

Or maybe that’s not ironic at all. What’s the opposite of ironic? Expected.

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Film Features Film/TV

Me And Earl And The Dying Girl

I have to admit I’m conflicted about Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.

On the one hand, Alfonso Gomez-Rejon’s debut as a feature director is genuinely fun. The film, which was based on a young adult novel by Jesse Andrews, who also wrote the film’s script, pulled off a rare feat earlier this year when it won both the Grand Jury Prize and Audience Award at the Sundance Film Festival.

The “Me” in the title is Greg (Thomas Mann), a film-obsessed teenager. High school is hell, of course, and by his senior year, he’s got his survival strategy well-figured out. He’s mapped out, in detail, all of the cliques and social groups, and has painstakingly maintained identities in all of them. He’s like high school Sweden: He has no enemies, but the cost of neutrality is a lack of friends. He won’t even admit that his actual best friend Earl (RJ Cyler) is his friend at all: He calls him a “co-worker”, because the hobby through which they have bonded is creating homemade parodies of classic movies. Their movies, which sport titles such as The Seven Seals, A Sockwork Orange, and Death In Tennis, bring to mind the “sweded” films of Michel Gondry’s 2008 Be Kind Rewind. The occasional glimpse of Greg and Earl’s work is just one of the fun formal tricks Gomez-Rejon plays.

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Greg’s pretty content to drift through a life avoiding hassles; after all, who needs friends when you’ve got a killer Werner Herzog impression? But his ironic detachment hits an iceberg when his mother (Connie Britton) forces him out of his room to spend time with Rachel (Olivia Cooke), a girl in his senior class who has just been diagnosed with leukemia. Cheering up a dying girl is dangerously close to actual friendship, so Greg is reluctant, but Mom insists, and so he’s soon navigating past Rachel’s white wine-swilling mother Denise (Molly Shannon) to hang out with Rachel in her attic room.

This is only Gomez-Rejon’s second feature, after last year’s remake of The Town That Dreaded Sundown, but he’s hardly a greenhorn. He’s a veteran of TV’s American Horror Story and Glee who has worked as a second unit director for movies such as Argo. He guides Mann through a fantastic lead performance. The supporting cast is full of great turns, such as Nick Offerman as Greg’s Dad and Jon Bernthal as the tattooed history teacher Mr. McCarthy. Gomez-Rejon and Andrews adapt the novel’s first person perspective into a voice-over narration. Little stop-motion animation bits give insight into Greg’s state of mind as he and Earl set out to make a movie for Rachel, the filmmaking duo’s sole fan.

But about three-quarters of the way through the movie, I had one of those moments when you realize that, even though Ferris Bueller is a funny guy you’re supposed to root for, he’s also kind of a sociopath. For most of its running time, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is one of those movies where all of the other characters only exist to teach the protagonist a lesson. Earl is basically a Magical Negro character in the Bagger Vance mode. Rachel is only defined by her advancing illness. Viewing everyone around you only as a prop in your story is not only a bad way to go through life, but also bad writing.

Ultimately, I think the movie redeems itself. Its first-person perspective is in the first word of the title: “Me,” and the “Me” in this case is a clueless 17-year-old boy. In the voice-over, Greg outs himself as an unreliable narrator, and little details throughout the movie show that the people around him know that he’s being a jerk, even when he can’t see it himself. Rachel is ultimately revealed to be a much deeper person than Greg could see, and it’s Earl who finally delivers a much-needed gut punch to his friend. Gomez-Rejon and Andrews walk a thin line between deploying and subverting tired tropes, but their message is ultimately one of empathy, which makes Me and Earl and the Dying Girl worthwhile.