Categories
Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Addison’s January Film Journal

Interstellar (2014; dir. Christopher Nolan)— Christopher Nolan is the dour, pedantic, ambitious, massively successful moviemaker we apparently deserve. He hasn’t made a really great film since Memento came out 15 years ago, but he’s always made sort of interesting ones, and take it from me: his Batman trilogy assumes a lofty, morose grandeur when you watch all three movies in one sitting. And like Quentin Tarantino, Nolan loves film as a medium; he is one of the only filmmakers around who could convince a studio to release prints of his latest work on 70-millimeter film stock. The chance to see a cosmic opera in the double-wide 70mm format got me out of the house on New Year’s Day, and for the most part Interstellar was like other recent Nolan films—complicated, exciting, scientifically sound for the most part, and a little hollow.

But it looked fantastic, and looks count for a lot in a big-budget SF movie. I made some peace with digital projection when David Fincher’s Zodiac came out in 2007; after a while, DCP exhibition, like high-definition television, started to look and feel natural and normal. But as it turns out, film—especially 70mm film—is still markedly superior to the highest-quality digital projection. There’s a wider range of colors available (the blacks, whites and greens are especially fine here) and a more palpable sense of air and space around the actors. Plus, the barely-audible whirr of the projector is as comforting as sitting next to a sleeping dog.

As befits a movie about an uncertain future, Interstellar’s numerous meditations on time, change and decay are its most salient features. At the same time, though, Nolan forges his pop spectacle without ever cracking a smile; he almost seems to be begging someone to laugh in his face. So I’m looking forward to the Interstellar/Boyhood YouTube mash-up where a sobbing Matthew McConaughey watches from outer space as he watches footage of Ellar Coltrane growing up. Grade: B+

Coherence (2014; dir. James Ward Byrkit)—This intelligent, economical and deeply creepy found-footage project stars Xander from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, the winner of the 1982 Miss America pageant, and a half-dozen more not-quite-handsome and just-past-pretty faces you swear you’ve seen before. Although it made less than $70,000 during its brief theatrical run, The Dissolve’s omnivorous, finicky film critic Mike D’Angelo named it his second-favorite film of the year. The man has good taste. Coherence is a near-great film with a great gimmick, and its extended group improvisations are balanced and shaped through Byrkit’s considerable formal and conceptual sophistication. The film’s twists are its reason for existence, so the less you know about them, the more enjoyable it will be. But the numerous shocks and complications eventually frame a key existential question: who do I want to be? Coherence resembles writer-director Shane Carruth’s opaque, highly-organized head-scratchers (Primer, Upstream Color), but Luis Bunuel’s The Exterminating Angel, about a group of dinner guests who discover they can’t leave the house, is an apt comparison as well. It gets under the skin, and just like the 2014 NFC Championship Game, it gave me nightmares that made me doubt my own reality on multiple occasions. Grade: A-

Gone Girl (2014; dir. David Fincher)—Before I had seen Gone Girl, my top ten films of 2014 looked something like this:
1. Only Lovers Left Alive
2. Adieu Au Langage*
2.Get On Up
3.The Lego Movie
4. Ida
5.Tim’s Vermeer
6. Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter
7. Citizenfour
8. Night Moves*
9.The Homesman
10. Force Majeure*
*did not play in Memphis in 2014
Seeing Gone Girl didn’t change that list one bit; in fact, I don’t think Gone Girl would crack my top 30 or 40 films of year. Gillian Flynn’s wild and clever best-selling novel seemed just bad enough to make a good movie; it’s high-quality trash with some surprising twists and some evocative descriptions of the glory days of paid journalists thrown in for local color and nostalgia. And both Flynn (who wrote the screenplay) and director David Fincher should be commended for taking a different angle to the material: book and movie are two separate entities with two separate agendas. But turning a kinky modern film noir with a crazy femme fatale into a dark meditation on contemporary marriage is a bit much. This movie doesn’t have much to say. Nevertheless, there’s an image for the time capsule here among the underlit greyish-brown murk: a cat looking out the window at the lights of the paparazzi and the police. Grade: B-

Inherent Vice (2014; dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)—Hmmmm…it must be Second Opinion month here at the film journal. But wait, I have something to add to Chris’s comments in last week’s review! So, the stupendous thing about Anderson’s new film is not simply that it’s a relatively faithful adaptation of this particular Pynchon novel; it’s a fairly accurate rendering of what it’s like to read any given Pynchon novel. And since nobody’s likely to turn V, Gravity’s Rainbow, Mason & Dixon or Against The Day into movies, this is probably the only time a Pynchon novel will make it to the big screen in any form. The most unlikely ingredients fare just fine here: the goofy character names; the numerous implicit and explicit hints at dark sexual perversities lurking behind every desk or under every countertop; the vast inland empire of conspiracies great and small; and, most importantly, the sudden whispered flashes of vulnerability and sorrow that emanate from major and minor characters like heat lightning on the horizon. Much occurs in the film, but as Pynchon wrote, “certain things, it is made clear, will not be spoken aloud; certain events will not be shown onstage; though it is difficult to imagine, given the excesses of the preceding acts, what these things could possibly be.” And while we’re quoting some Pynchon here, let’s hope someone will try to adapt The Crying of Lot 49 some day. Grade: A

Categories
Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

In Re: 2014 In Film

[Flyer Film Editor Chris McCoy and frequent Flyer film contributor Addison Engleking had the following email exchange to discuss the 2014 Year In FIlm article in this week’s paper.]

Chris,
First, congratulations on the new gig. Second, how’s the new job going? Are there any unexpected perks or problems with your new writing/editing workload? More specifically, how does your own experience as a real, honest-to-God filmmaker influence what you see and what you’re looking for in movies now that you have to write about them every single week? Third, we’ve never spoken: what do you think my voice sounds like?
-Addison
 

In Re: 2014 In Film

Addison,
I imagine your voice to be like God from The Ten Commandments.

So far, so good on being the Flyer’s Film/TV Editor. I think I am most surprised by how difficult it’s been to get reviews in the paper in a timely manner. Studios have decided they don’t have anything to gain by previewing big budget movies to critics like us, so I’ve had to pay to see them on opening weekend and then run the reviews the next week. It’s also pretty time consuming: There were more than 600 movies in wide release this year, which would be almost two a day all year long. So it’s very difficult to see everything. like Pauline Kael or Roger Ebert did back in the day.

As you said, I am a filmmaker with three features under my belt over the course of ten years. I have also done a lot of screenwriting and consulting over the last few years, and I’m shopping a screenplay in Hollywood right now. So I’ve got skin in the game, as they say. I think it gives me an appreciation for the complexities of filmmaking. If you can get the fundamentals right—good acting, good pacing, looks good, reasonably coherent script—you’re going to get a good review from me.

I see my job as being a consumer advocate. The first and foremost question everyone is asking when they read a review is, “Should I go see this movie?” So somewhere in all of the pontificating about theory and stuff, I have to answer that question. And that’s regardless of genre. I’m not a big fan of Westerns, but if I review a Western, I have to let fans of the genre know if it’s a good Western or not. Likewise, if I’m going to be reviewing a science fiction movie, I can’t let my geekdom get in the way of telling a general audience if they’re going to like it.

My two questions for you are, 1) do you have any advice for me as to how to be a better critic, and 2) Was 2014 a good year for movies? 
-Chris

Alia Shawcat and Sophia Takal in Wild Canaries

Chris,
First, as a sci-fi geek you need to mainline all of Black Mirror ASAP. Second, if you can imagine God sounding like Bob Oedenkirk, then you’ve pretty much nailed the sound of my voice.

Anyway, I’m not surprised that studios aren’t pre-screening films for critics as often as they used to. But in a way I’m glad it’s happening, because it means I’m still useful to The Flyer: I can see a movie when it premieres in my hometown of Minneapolis and then send you a review that remains timely and relevant whenever that movie resurfaces in Memphis.

On the other hand, the notion of “timeliness” w/r/t film reviewing is surprisingly tricky. Take your job description: as much as I respect and appreciate the consumer advocacy element of most film criticism, I’m always struggling against it. For example, you know what I dislike most about my reviews? The second paragraph. That’s where I feel obligated to throw in a couple of vague, coy sentences about the story and/or the actors and/or the cinematic antecedents to whatever I’m writing about. It feels like necessary consumer information, but I always wonder how I could have used those 100 words differently. Let other people sum things up; I want to do something else—expand on the de facto auteurism that you’re rightly suspicious of, maybe, or call attention to those overlooked textures, gestures, lines, images, or moments that are shorthand for the movies at their best. Basically, I want to celebrate what Andrei Tarkovsky called “Time, captured in its factual forms and manifestations.”

You asked me how to become a better film critic. (How sweet of you to think I might know!) Well, it’s imperative to care about every word you write. Persist in the fantasy that you’re being read for posterity. Respect good product by trying to see it as clearly as you can; respect inferior product by being honest and original about its failings. Watch more movies, but read lots of writing that isn’t only about film, too. Keep ideas in your head about other things while dealing with the specifics of the medium. Athough I’m not a huge fan of pop-sociology, “The Hunger Games is a metaphor for class division” criticism because the politics of Hollywood movies are deliberately squishy and stupid, other ideas from other places definitely belong in our work. I didn’t get that Tarkovsky quotation from Rotten Tomatoes; I got it from Lapham’s Quarterly.

The second question you asked is connected to the first one. Timeliness in movie reviewing is also getting more complicated as streaming services and alternate viewing options proliferate. Who has the time? So the question of whether 2014 was a good year starts to get more and more difficult to answer; within that arbitrary 12-month period, are we counting only movies released in Memphis (which includes several high-profile releases from late 2013) or are we counting on everything, from independent stuff like Blue Ruin (which played there briefly) to wacko imported fare like Why Don’t You Play in Hell? (which might not have played there at all)? What does it mean to watch a movie these days anyway?

Thanks to those options, though, the year at the movies I managed to put together was pretty good, maybe even better than last year. But before I share some of my favorites, what were some of yours?
-Addison

Chris Evans and Samuel L. Jackson in Captain America: Winter Soldier

Addison,
I’ll save my list of favorites for the paper, but I think you’ve got a point about the huge amount of movies being made means its easier to piece together a good moviegoing year. I saw a lot more great movies in 2014 than I did in 2013. I think the average quality went up across the board, from big budget Hollywood movies to the microbudget movies we saw at Indie Memphis. The two big Marvel tentpole comic book movies were both good in different ways. Guardians Of The Galaxy was both great space opera and a lot of fun, but in retrospect I preferred Captain America: Winter Soldier for the tighter plotting and some good performances by Chris Evans, Samuel L. Jackson, and Scarlett Johansen. Even stuff like The Lego Movie and Big Hero 6 were better than they had any business being. In doing my year end roundup, I caught up with Edge Of Tomorrow, which was a big budget, high concept Tom Cruise movie that I thought was very well written and executed. That one will be written about for a while because of the horrible way Sony botched the marketing, both at the theatrical and home video level. (Live, Die, Repeat is not a better title than Edge Of Tomorrow).

At indie Memphis, we had much more variety. I think the mumblecore wave has finally broken, or at least people are paying more attention to the script in the indie world. I loved Lawrence Lavine’s Wild Canaries, which was a Brooklynite Rear Window from the guy who did the shapeless but compelling Gaby On The Roof In July a few years ago. Darius Monroe’s autobiographical documentary Evolution Of A Criminal has really stuck with me, too. I think those of us working on the indie level we should take more advantage of the creative freedom we have instead of making movies that look like job applications for Hollywood, and I think I saw more of that this year.

What were some of the movies that didn’t quite make the cut of your year end list?
-Chris

Shawn Ashmore, James McAvoy, and Hugh Jackman in X-Men: Days Of Future Past

Chris,
As far as Hollywood fare goes, a lot of the stuff you mentioned missed the cut for me, with Edge Of Tomorrow and Godzilla being the most agonizing omissions. The latest X-Men movie was probably my favorite installment of that venerable franchise, and though most of the superhero movies fall into a very clear and deeply repetitive story pattern, things like Guardians Of The Galaxy are starting to get weird like the later film noirs of the 1950s or the zombie films of today. So that’s encouraging. Plenty of movies were very good and very enjoyable but just short of great, like Lars Von Trier’s Nymphomaniac Vol. I, which was better than Vol. II. A lot of smaller stuff, like John Turturro’s Fading Gigalo and Mathieu Almaric’s The Blue Room, were compact and skillful, too. Again, it was a good year to spend a lot of time at the theaters.

As always, there were at least a couple of instances where I either bought or resisted the hype. Initially I enjoyed Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash, but after thinking and reading about it more, I’m not so sure what it was or is supposed to do. And although I like Richard Linklater’s work enormously and was lucky enough to write about Boyhood, I wash’t as enamored of it as everyone else. For one thing, I think they picked the wrong kid to focus on; they should have built the movie around Linklater’s daughter.

Whenever you talk about the good stuff from Indie Memphis, I feel a pang for what I missed out on; I only saw a sliver of the smaller film-festival stuff. As it stands, though, I liked Happy Valley and American Cheerleader. But Citizenfour and HBO Films’ Regarding Susan Sontag are probably my two favorite documentaries.

I’d love to hear what you think about Sony’s current PR/marketing/hacking predicament in re: The Interview, which I picked as my “Movie of the Year” for obvious reasons. But that’s a different conversation for a different time. So let’s wrap things up by looking ahead. On Christmas Day I’m going to the local premiere of Mike Leigh’s Mr. Turner, and for much of the next couple of weeks I’ll be playing catch-up on things I missed, like Gone Girl (don’t worry, I read the book) and Enemy and The Double and whatever else sneaks into theaters.
-Addison

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Gone Girl

Gone Girl is based on a bestselling crime novel by Gillian Flynn, who also wrote the screenplay. With its byzantine plot, morally ambiguous characters, and obsession with peeling back layers of “reality,” it is the perfect material for director David Fincher. It is the stylistic and thematic cousin of Fincher’s masterpiece Zodiac, and may surpass the 2007 film in reputation. One of the few useful notes I took before surrendering to Fincher’s dark spell was: “Perfect frame after perfect frame.”

Gone Girl is currently teaching me how much of my weekly word count is taken up with summaries. The expertly executed whiplash plot has earned word of mouth that is the envy of Hollywood, and yet recounting it here would be useless. If you’ve read the book, you already know what happens. If you haven’t, you don’t want to know. Here’s the setup: On their fifth wedding anniversary, Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) comes home to find his wife Amy (former Bond girl Rosamund Pike) missing, apparently the victim of a kidnapping. In less than 48 hours, the case becomes a full-blown media circus. Then things get weird.

Gone Girl is about the media. It’s probably the best filmic critique of our industry’s effect on society since Natural Born Killers predicted the metastization of the 24-hour news cycle 20 years ago. It’s marketed as a mystery, but it’s closer to Billy Wilder’s Ace in the Hole or Sidney Lumet’s Network than a classic mystery like The Big Sleep. Once observed by the media’s electron microscope, the characters behave like a quantum particle forced into choosing a definite state. Is Nick a hero, villain, or victim? Like Schrodinger’s cat suspended between life and death, he exists as all three at once. In a memorable exchange near the end of the film, he confronts his greatest tormentor, talk-show shouter Ellen Abbot (Memphian Missi Pyle), with all of the lies and distortions she has spread about him. “I go where the story is,” she says, even if that means inventing details to support the most lucrative narrative.

Ben Affleck in Gone Girl

Gone Girl is not misogynistic. Nor is it misandristic. It is misanthropic. Its worldview is so cynical it makes Double Indemnity look like It’s a Wonderful Life. Everyone in the film stoops to their basest level, confirming their sexes’ worst stereotypes. Nick’s glibly charming exterior hides a lazy, emotionally distant philanderer. Amy’s perfect woman exterior hides untold depths of emotional manipulation and cold-blooded lies. As she says, “We’re so cute, I want to punch us.” If, as has been suggested, Fincher’s adaptation tips the moral scales toward the male, it’s because Affleck’s job description as a movie star is: “Be sympathetic on camera.” And Affleck is very good at his job.

Gone Girl is exquisitely well acted. Pike shows complete control over her instrument, shifting into whichever version of Amy the director needs her to be as the points of view change. Kim Dickens shines as Detective Rhonda Boney, the Marge Gunderson-like investigator who proves impotent in the face of overwhelming evil. Neil Patrick Harris manages to take his character Desi Collings from creepy to nice and back again with very limited screen time. But the best of the bunch may be Tyler Perry as the Johnnie Cochran-like defense attorney who cheerfully plots the character assassination of a missing woman who, for all he knows, could be rotting at the bottom of a lake.

Gone Girl is about class. It’s one of the most insightful movies made about the Great Recession, exposing films like Up in the Air as classist dreck. The fear of losing economic status permeates everything. The story’s real inciting incident isn’t Amy’s 2012 disappearance; it’s 2009, when the couple lose their media jobs and are forced to move from New York City to a Missouri McMansion, propped up by debt and illusion. In one telling moment, when one of the movie’s many middle-class Machiavellians finds themselves confronted with actual, desperate lower-class criminals, they are summarily beaten at their own game.

Gone Girl is circular. It’s an appropriate structure for a story where everyone is trapped, either by their sex, their class, their perceptions, or by a whole sick society whose death throes make missing white girls into a growth sector for cable conglomerates.

Gone Girl is a very good movie. You should go see it.