After many pandemic-related delays and a storm of publicity, Tom Cruise and director Christopher McQuarrie are back with Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Pt. 1. This time, the Impossible Mission Force is sent to take down The Entity, an advanced AI that has gained sentience and is threatening humanity. How does that lead to Tom Cruise jumping a motorcycle off a frickin’ mountain? We’re about to find out.
John Boyega stars with Jamie Foxx in They Cloned Tyrone, a sci-fi action comedy which pays homage to/sends up 70s Blackspolitation films. Teyonah Parris, David Alan Grier, and Kiefer Sutherland also star. Expect multiple Tyrones.
Hey, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is still in theaters, and it’s still good! Harrison Ford’s victory lap as the beloved archeologist/adventurer delivers the Spielbergian action beats you crave — even if James Mangold is at the helm this time.
While the big studios pour six-digit budgets into tent poles expecting to hit home runs, Blumhouse moneyballs the game with consistent base hits like Insidious: The Red Door, which made its $15 million budget back in two days.
On Wednesday, July 19, at Crosstown Theater, Indie Memphis will present a selection of short films from the Odú Film Festival in Brazil, which is a production of the Black Freedom Fellowship. These shorts include “Ara” (“Time”) a ghost story from director Laryssa Machada imagining a dialogue with her grandfather, whom she posthumously discovered was gay.
Then on Thursday, July 20, Crosstown Arts Film Series presents John Waters’ Female Trouble, the film which introduced viewers to the immortal drag legend Divine.
The film that has had the most lasting influence on action cinema is Buster Keaton’s 1926 masterpiece The General. Inspired by an actual Civil War train chase across Tennessee and Georgia, The General contains some of the most incredible stunts ever performed for film — all of them done by Keaton himself.
There’s a straight line between The General and Raiders of the Lost Ark, the 1981 Steven Spielberg/George Lucas collaboration that perfected the kinetic filmmaking style the two friends had been groping towards with Star Wars, Jaws, and 1941. Their not-so-secret weapon was Harrison Ford, who didn’t quite do all of his own stunts like Keaton, but who still did a lot more stuff than Lucasfilm’s insurers were comfortable with.
When Disney bought Lucasfilm in 2012, the rights to Indiana Jones came with it, and soon after the House of Mouse pointed out that Spielberg, Lucas, and Ford had signed a five-film deal in 1979. That meant that even after the classic 80s run of Raiders, Temple of Doom, and The Last Crusade, and 2008’s much-maligned Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, they were owed one more. Thus was born Indiana Jones and the Contractual Obligation, aka Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny.
Spielberg and Lucas fulfilled their contractual obligations by executive producing this go-round, handing off directorial duties to James Mangold, and a script cobbled together from years of false starts.
But without Ford, there’s no Indy. Any doubts that the 80-year-old Ford could still wear the fedora are quickly dispelled in The Dial of Destiny. When the action opens, Ford gets ILM’s patented de-aging treatment. It’s 1945, and the Third Reich is falling. Indy and his Oxford archeologist colleague Basil Shaw (Toby Jones) try to sneak into a German castle where Nazis are hoarding looted treasures. They’re looking for the Lance of Longious, the Roman spear that pierced Christ’s side, but in the ensuing fracas, Indy half-accidentally comes into possession of the Antikythera, half of a mysterious clockwork artifact from ancient Greece allegedly created by Archimedes.
Mangold’s assignment is to imitate the master, and the opening chase sequence, which pays homage to The General, is prime Spielbergian thrill-ride cinema. Then we flash forward to 1969, where a depressed, aging Indy is just trying to get some peace and quiet in his Brooklyn apartment. The script gets the old man jokes out of the way early, when Indy takes a baseball bat to hush up the hippies downstairs, who were blasting “Magical Mystery Tour” way too loud. The hippies are in a celebratory mood, because it’s the day of the ticker-tape parade for the Apollo 11 astronauts. It’s also retirement day for Indy, who has fallen from Princeton to a tiny liberal arts college. I guess it’s hard to get tenure when you’re a globe-trotting adventurer. His son with Marion, Mutt, has died in Vietnam, and the couple have split, leaving Indy with memories and whiskey.
Ford, who has phoned in performances in his time, comes alive in a scene where Indy tries to teach his class of bored, stoned co-eds about Archimedes. One student who is listening is Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), who reveals herself to Indy as the daughter of Basil, and his goddaughter. Helena is in the family business, but her brand of archeology is closer to Indy’s mercenary Temple of Doom approach than the guy who exclaimed “It belongs in a museum!” She wants to know what happened to the Antikythera all those years ago. Also interested in the subject is Jurgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), a former Nazi turned NASA rocket scientist, who believes the Antikythera holds the key to time travel. Indy’s retirement is upended by a three-way chase through the streets and subways of New York, as the ticker-tape parade is in progress.
Mangold takes a lot of big swings, and most of them connect. Waller-Bridge proves a much better foil for Ford than Shia LaBeouf was in Crystal Skull. There are some great sentimental cameos, but they’re handled deftly enough that it doesn’t become a nonstop nostalgia party.
Best of all is Ford, who doesn’t treat this as a victory lap. His joints are stiffer, but when he says he’s been shot nine times, you believe him. It’s a great joy to see anti-fascist icon Indiana Jones still out there punching Nazis. We need him now more than ever.
One film looks set to dominate the weekend, but there’s a lot more to choose from on the big screen.
Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse is the sequel to the acclaimed 2018 animated superhero picture, and sees Miles Morales once again sucked into multiversal mayhem. Does this one include Peter Parker, Mary Jane, Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman, Vulture, Spider-Noir, or Yamashito the Japanese Spider-Man? The answer is yes to all of the above and more. That’s right, we’re going full Rick and Morty, and the advance word is good. Look for eye-popping visuals with an inclusive spirit.
Vicaria (Laya Deleon Hayes) has a nice, suburban life until her older brother (Denzel Whitaker) is killed, as so many other Black youths have been, by gun violence. She becomes obsessed with bringing him back to life, which, as all available literature on the subject suggests, is a terrible idea. But who knows? Maybe it will work out fine in The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster. Writer/director Bomani J. Story updates Frankenstein for our era of senseless shootings.
Before Stephen King was a literary superstar, he was a struggling writer of short stories for men’s magazines like Cavalier and Penthouse (and, to be fair, also Cosmopolitan). After his novel Carrie was an unexpected hit, the best of these stories were collected in Night Shift, which has since provided fodder for film and television that has been great, like Salem’s Lot, and Children of the Corn, and not-so-great, like Lawnmower Man and Maximum Overdrive. “The Boogeyman” has seen several short film adaptations, thanks to King’s standing policy of licensing his short stories for $1 to budding filmmakers, and now director Rob Savage and the writers of A Quiet Place are giving it the feature treatment. This looks really scary.
Julia Louis-Dreyfus stars in Nicole Holofcener’s latest comedy as an author whose reasonably successful marriage is thrown into chaos when her husband (Tobias Menzies) admits he doesn’t like her latest book. This rookie married-guy mistake haunts everyone in You Hurt My Feelings.
Ahead of Harrison Ford’s final fedora fitting in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, the original returns to theaters for two special engagements on Sunday, June 4th and Wednesday, June 7th. With Raiders of the Lost Ark, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas created the ultimate summer blockbuster in 1981, and while there have been many films that tried to recapture that magic, none has ever achieved this level of perfection. Watch for future movie star Alfred Molina in his debut role as Indy’s “Throw me the idol!” betrayer.
At Crosstown Theater on June 8th, get a full frontal look at Brian De Palma’s gonzo rock opera from 1974, Phantom of the Paradise. I can’t really describe the “plot”, but Paul Williams’ music and De Palma’s visuals bring the glam rock weirdness that would later power The Rocky Horror Picture Show to cult immortality. “Life at Last!”
Sean Young is smoking hot as Rachel in Blade Runner.
Josh Campbell is the host and co-founder of Spillit, the popular Memphis storytelling slam event. He and his son Paul, 16, have a podcast on the OAM Network called “Dad and I.” Since the coronavirus quarantine started, Josh and Paul have been watching classic movies together. I joined in (virtually) to watch a film they’ve never seen, Ridley Scott’s 1982 masterpiece Blade Runner. I edited our conversation for length and clarity.
Chris McCoy: Let’s start with you, Paul. What do you know about Blade Runner?
Paul Campbell: I know there’s a remake.
Chris: It was really a sequel.
Josh Campbell: He’s a Ryan Gosling fan.
Paul: I haven’t seen that one, either. But that’s about all I know about it. I don’t know anything about the original.
Chris: Okay! Josh, what do you know about it?
Josh: It’s funny. I’m a big Harrison Ford fan. I think I’ve seen everything else with Harrison Ford in it. But I think I was six when this movie came out. It’s known as one of those movies that’s made predictions about the future, and it was one of the first science fiction movies to have a gritty view of the future as opposed to sort of the clean look some of the other sci fi movies have. I guess I’ve just avoided it because of the prediction aspect of it. Any time a movie makes predictions of the future, the further you get into the future, it’s kind of tough to go back and look at what the predictions were.
Chris: Well, that’s interesting, because I want you to the notice the opening titles. It says that the film is set in November, 2019. So this film is actually set in the past now.
The opening shot of Blade Runner.
117 minutes later, more or less…
Chris: Josh and Paul, you are now people who’ve seen Blade Runner. What did you think? Paul, go for it.
Paul: It was good. It looked really cool. I was just wondering, why was it so dark the whole time?
Chris: Yeah, I know. And it seemed to rain an awful lot for Los Angeles.
Paul: Why didn’t anyone light their homes?
Edward James Olmos as Gaff enjoying a sunny day in Los Angeles 2019.
Josh: I thought it was definitely like a film noir. It was like there were two movies going at the same time. It was like a 1940s detective movie, and sort of a Frankenstein movie happening, like, side by side.
Chris: Paul, there’s your answer for why is it so dark all the time. Because it was heavily influenced by film noir. You know, like, detective movies. So, tell me about your poster and your movie-watching project that you’ve been doing.
Paul: Yeah, I try to watch a lot of movies. I try to watch all the ones that people say are important or whatever, you know.
Chris: Did Blade Runner feel like one of those?
Paul: Yeah, it felt really advanced for how old it was. ‘Cause you look at a lot of old movies and they don’t feel super futuristic. And while this one still has small TV screens and stuff like that, it still feel really futuristic to me.
Downtown Los Angeles in Blade Runner (1982)
Chris: One of the old questions is, did Blade Runner look like the future, or does the future look like Blade Runner? Because all the designers grew up watching this movie, and everybody ripped it off. I think the first movie to really rip it off was Akira, the anime, in 1988.
Paul: We were trying to find that one, but we haven’t found it yet. It’s on the poster.
Neo Tokyo in Akria (1988)
Chris: The weird thing about this movie is that it completely bombed when it originally came out. Apparently, the entire production was a complete nightmare from start to finish. Ridley Scott and Harrison Ford hated each other, and there was a crew rebellion at one point. There was so much smoke. It was everywhere. So the crew was in respirators for six months, and people got lung damage and stuff.
There was a cut of the film that Scott had turned into the studio and was like, okay, well, this is the movie. And then the production company basically fired Ridley Scott. You know the bit with the unicorn?
Never Seen It: Watching Blade Runner with Josh and Paul Campbell (4)
The reason that’s there is because Ridley Scott had kind of given up on this movie.
JC: Yeah! He was doing Legend next.
Chris: The unicorn was a test shot for Legend, but he used Blade Runner money to do it, because he was trying to sell Legend at the time. So he stuck the bit with a unicorn in there because he was just like, “I don’t know, it means something. Who knows?”
The unicorn co-stars with Tom Cruise, and Mia Sara in Legend.
So the production company takes it away from him, and they make Harrison Ford do a voiceover that basically explains everything that’s happening. And they cut a whole bunch of stuff out, too. That was the cut released to theaters, like, two weeks after E.T. And of course, E.T. became the highest grossing movie of all time. So nobody went to see Blade Runner. Everybody kind of forgot about it.
Never Seen It: Watching Blade Runner with Josh and Paul Campbell (3)
Then, in 1990, they were having a 70 millimeter film festival in Los Angeles. Somehow, the print of Blade Runner that they got was the work print. It wasn’t the theatrical cut with the voiceover. So this audience goes in, and they watch the cut without the voiceover on it. And they were like, “Oh my gosh, that was so amazing!” That’s sort of where the legend of Blade Runner started. It was like the Velvet Underground and rock and roll. Ten people bought the first Velvet Underground album, but every one of those people started a band. It became hugely influential.
Josh: In most futuristic movies, they try really hard to make the world look all the same. If you look at some of the apartments they walked into, they look like old, 1940s apartments. Then other apartments look very futuristic. It would be almost like it is today, in 2020. You know, here in Midtown, you go out and find bungalows that were made in the 1920s, and then there’s tall, skinny houses right next to them.
Harrison Ford as Rick Deckard, making dinner in his kitchen.
Chris:Blade Runner is based on a book by Philip K, Dick called Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? It was written in the late 1960s, but it was about two things: It was about environmental collapse, and it was also about artificial intelligence. What is the line between what is human and what is not human? How do we even know that we’re human? It’s very philosophical stuff. Dick was … he was just like that. I mean, this is a guy who eventually wrote his longest novel about how an extraterrestrial intelligence had psychically contacted him and given him a new perspective on the New Testament. He was a weird guy.
You know, one thing that’s interesting is that nobody predicted smartphones. There’s still pay phones in Blade Runner. They’re video phones, but they’re pay phones. Nobody got cell phones. Star Trek did, but then nobody else did.
Never Seen It: Watching Blade Runner with Josh and Paul Campbell (5)
Josh: Well, I think again, that’s one of those little beats that were hit for the film noir aspect. It’s like, you know, the detective goes into the phone booth. Like all those things are tropes. Sean Young was perfect as a femme fatale, dressed almost like Joan Crawford. That’s something Paul and I talk about a lot. He was brought up on the Avengers movies. What we talk about is how Marvel movies have become the way to make other movies. And instead of being a genre movie, it’s just a way to do other genres.
Paul: Captain America movies are like Bond movies. Guardians of the Galaxy are like science fiction movies. And Ant Man is a comedy.
Josh: So to me it is interesting, to see a sci fi movie that was trying to be like a genre movie in a different genre.
Chris: And it was, like, reintroducing noir. The big crossover with sci fi has always been westerns. There’s a big Western influence on Star Wars, for example. You know, Han Solo is like a gunslinger. Especially at this stage, putting noir in science fiction was something that just wasn’t done. Paul, have you watched much noir on your quest?
Paul: I don’t think I’ve seen any yet. I’m not really sure though. Well, I guess we watched Seven.
Josh: Yeah. He’s not into the black and whites, so we haven’t gotten into that era very much.
Chris: Paul, let me ask you, why don’t you like black and white?
Paul: I don’t know. It’s just kind of with a lot of action movies, there’s a lot of color happening, and it’s really fun to look at. It’s kind of harder to capture big action happening, and make it look like it’s actually happening, in black and white as it is in color. But when we watched Twelve Angry Men, I really liked that. It was just people sitting in a room talking.
Josh: But we watched Raging Bull, too. What do you think about Raging Bull‘s action?
Paul: It was good, but I also didn’t feel the action naturally. I liked the stuff with his family.
Chris: It’s about the shadows too. A lot of Blade Runner is about where the absence of light is as much as it is about where the light is playing. You know what I mean?
Paul: Yeah. But then the neon in there, so it sticks out so much in that too. When there’s some scenes where it’s black and white, but it’s almost like blue and white or red and white or red and black or blue and black.
Josh: There was this idea in the eighties that Japan was buying up America, and that Japan was going to be the superpower, and that we were going to live in their world. Most people in Los Angeles seem Asian, and all of the signs are in Chinese or Japanese, I think. Was that in the book, or was that the movie coming up with that?
Chris: That wasn’t in the book at all. That all came out in the movie. There’s one way to interpret that, which is, Decker lives in Chinatown, so that’s why you see so much of it. But if you think about it, that is one thing that Blade Runner got close to right. If you think about all the anime that’s huge with people younger than us, Josh. I mean everybody watches anime, right Paul?
Paul: Yeah. I never got into it, because it takes way too much time.
Chris: K-pop is huge too. Here we are in 2020 and Asian popular culture is really huge. So they, they kind of got that right.
Paul: Yeah, at least that part.
Street sushi with Rick and Gaff.
Chris: Josh, you said that this is one of the few Harrison Ford movies you hadn’t seen. So what’d you think about him in this movie?
Josh: The thing that I like about Harrison Ford is when he’s playing a vulnerable hero. I think he’s really good at that. There’s so many times, especially like in the Tom Clancy movies, where he just gets beat up a lot. He, he’s almost like a Humphrey Bogart-type character actor that got pushed into super-big blockbusters by accident. If you take Indiana Jones and Han Solo and Jack Ryan out of it, and you look at movies like Witness or Frantic or any of those movies where he is kind of like an everyman. I think he does really good at that. And his facial expressions, he looks like my dad.
Paul: He looks a little like granddad.
Ladies, Harrison Ford has some questions for you.
Chris: I think that one thing that doesn’t age well about this movie is the interpretation of his relationship with Rachel, with Sean Young. I think it feels really uncomfortable. In the book it’s even weirder, but I think it’s better. In the book, she is the aggressor in the situation. Once she figures out she’s a machine, that she’s a replicant, she wants to go seduce him to prove to him that she’s just like a human. He’s the guy that’s going to go around killing replicants, and she’s trying to convince him that what he’s doing is wrong. But he just thinks of her as a machine.
Josh: Paul, that’s one thing that when we watched all of these movies like from, I would say 2000 back. The sexual politics are always awkward. Sometimes, it’s so casual, I would not even notice it. And Paul will say, ‘Whoa, what’s this guy doing?’
Paul: Right. Yeah.
Josh: We see that a lot. And it’s like, well, that’s how it was. It’s hard to explain that. So when he’s saying like, “Say you want me”? Yeah, that hasn’t aged well, but a lot of that stuff is not age. That’s always a little queasy when you’re looking at that.
Harrison Ford and Sean Young
Josh: I’ve always heard that there is a little bit of, is he a replicant? That was part of the twist or whatever. Cause she says, “Have you ever done that test on yourself?”
Chris: Yeah. And then he goes and looks at his photographs, just like the replicants had.
Josh: So I kept waiting for that big reveal, that maybe he was in danger.
Paul: Well, it never really says, yeah, I didn’t think so.
Josh: But didn’t it come across like that to you, Paul? You didn’t think he was a replicant?
Paul: That he was a replicant, no. But I don’t know. I thought they would answer that eventually, when she brought that up. I don’t really know. I don’t think he is.
Josh: And then the origami thing, when I saw the unicorn in the shot and then I saw the origami unicorn, I thought that was some sort of totem of like, I know his memory. [Gaff] knows his memories, and every time he left something for [Deckard], they were positioning him, in a way.
The infamous origami unicorn.
Chris: I think that’s in there. I think it was left intentionally ambiguous. Part of Phillip K. Dick’s purpose in writing this thing in the first place was to make you question the nature of your own reality. The humans feel like, because they created these replicants, and that they are quote unquote artificial, that they have the power of life and death over them. They can make them slaves, they can make them pleasure units, they can do whatever they want with them.
But they also made these replicants to have humanity, and they’ve realized that they’re developing feelings, too. At what point do you cross the line between, this is a machine, and this is something that’s like me? How much do you know about your own consciousness? You can say, this is machine. It’s just a whole bunch of preprogrammed subroutines that interact together to make it look like it’s a thinking, feeling person. But then, if you think about yourself, maybe that’s all I am, too. Maybe I am just a bunch of separate instincts that interact together and believes it’s a person, believes it’s special, and believes it has the power to do whatever it wants. So I think leaving it vague, as to whether Deckard is a replicant or not, that’s part of the artistry of the thing, you know?
Rutger Hauar in his career-making turn as Roy Batty, the android who wanted more life.
Josh: Talking about the pacing of eighties movies, what was the pacing like for you?
Paul: What do you mean?
Josh: Are you always like, let’s get it going?
Paul: It did take a while to kick in. Yeah. But I think it was really cool to look at, so it didn’t really bother me that much as it usually does. But you know, it also feels like back then dialogue was a lot different in action movies. Dialogue’s always different in action movies. It’s never like just like, “Hey, what’s up? Hey, how you doing?” Everything’s really written out. I liked that. I thought visually, it’s awesome. Some of those shots were really cool. I know how the voiceover would have been to me. I can see why people reacted to it the way they did, because the voiceover would have grabbed you out of it.
Chris: I’ve got all the different versions, and if you watch the theatrical cut, Harrison Ford so clearly phones it in. He’s just like, yeah, whatever, you know, here I am because of my contract. It’s not like Double Indemnity, where the voiceover is so dramatic.
I’m glad that you brought the pacing up because, this is a slow movie. In 1982, this was a slow movie. But I think Paul, it’s really interesting what you said, that it didn’t bother you, because there was so much stuff to look at. It kind of shows you what pacing really is. It’s not even necessarily like how fast the plot is going or, or how fast the cuts are. It’s all about the pace of information that’s reaching you from the screen. And so, even though the cuts are slower, and there’s not as much dialogue, there’s so much stuff to look at that your brain keeps engaged. It pulls you forward and it makes you want to keep watching. I think that skill in modulating that rate of information exchange is the most valuable thing a film director can have. And I think that’s also true for being a writer, too.
So, would you recommend it to other people?
Paul: Yeah, it was OK.
Never Seen It: Watching Blade Runner with Josh and Paul Campbell (2)
It takes a lot to get Harrison Ford out of the house these days. But really, who can blame him? He’s Han Solo. He’s Rick Deckard, the Blade Runner. He’s Bob Falfa, the hot rodder from American Graffiti. He’s Indiana freakin’ Jones. He’s got all the money he needs and nothing left to prove. At age 77, he’s still the coolest man alive.
If there’s a lesson to be learned from Ford’s career, it’s the power of just showing up. He was a background actor for a decade; when he struggled to get work, he took up carpentry. He met George Lucas when he was at work renovating Francis Ford Coppola’s office, and he got the part of Han Solo after being hired to read lines with the actors who were actually auditioning. When Michelle Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas saw him in Star Wars, she gasped and said, “That’s my pot dealer!” The man’s a hustler.
Maybe those early lean years made it harder to say no to bad roles during the 1990s. He was the most sought-after actor in the world, but he acted like just showing up was all you could expect from him. When he finds a project he decides to apply himself to, like The Call of the Wild, it’s a wonder to behold.
Han and Chewbacca in The Call of the Wild.
The adaptation of Jack London’s 1903 novel is part of a mini-boom of Lit 101 adaptations, coming after the $200 million success of Little Women and before upcoming versions of Jane Austen’s Emma and Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. Unlike Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, Call of the Wild does not seek to deconstruct the original text to draw out themes that resonate with the zeitgeist. Instead, Disney/Dreamworks veteran director Chris Sanders and Blade Runner 2049 screenwriter Michael Green pare down London’s story, picking out key incidents, eliminating minor characters, and introducing Ford’s character John Thornton much earlier in the story.
Even though it was produced under the rubric of 20th Century Studios (the former Fox), in many ways, this film seems like a throwback to the ’60s and ’70s era of Disney live-action kids’ lit adaptations like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. It’s earnest to the point of being almost grating. London’s depiction of the rough edges of life in the gold rush Klondike have been sanded off. It’s so bloodless, only John Thornton’s passion for rotgut whiskey keeps the film from earning a G rating.
Yet, I liked it. It’s a grizzled Harrison Ford and a St. Bernard tromping through the idyllic Canadian wilderness. I may be a sardonic film critic, but I’m not made of stone.
There’s a reason The Call of the Wild is a staple of middle-school English classes. First, the protagonist is a dog. Second, London’s prose is clear and clean, ideal to help teach the fundamentals of good writing to students who are mostly interested in the dog.
Buck, the dog, starts out in the California household of a prosperous judge. He gets dognapped and sold to canine traffickers shipping dogs off to pull sleds in Alaska. The big guy is first sold to Perrault (Omar Sy), a French-Canadian musher tasked with delivering the Royal Canadian Mail. Buck learns the joy of being part of the pack and rises to head dog by defeating his rival Spitz. He becomes the most relatable hero of 2020 by losing his gig to a startup technology (in this case, the telegraph) and being left adrift in a shrinking job market to support his pack with any employment he can find.
Employment comes in the person of Hal, a rich dandy seeking gold with his city-slicker companions Charles (Colin Woodell) and Mercedes (the great Karen Gillan, inexplicably stuck in a bit part). Where Perrault was a kind and just master, Hal has no business in the wilderness. Buck barely escapes the misadventure with his life, thanks to John Thornton, and the pair strike up a lasting friendship. “You’re not my pet,” says Thornton — more like his Chewbacca.
Buck is brought to life thanks to the same computer animation techniques that sucked all the fun out of The Lion King. But here, it works much better — probably because canines have much more expressive faces than felines, and Buck never tries to sing. His arc, from pampered pup to heroic sled dog to trusted companion to leader of his own wolfpack, is kind of a distillation of the classic Western hero’s story of finding one’s true nature on the frontier. For a story of high adventure, The Call of the Wild takes no risks, but when you’re whitewater rafting with Indiana Jones and a big fluffy dog, you won’t mind at all.
In America, it was the worst of times, but inside the multiplex, it was the best of times. Mega-blockbusters faltered, while an exceptional crop of small films excelled. There was never a week when there wasn’t something good playing on Memphis’ big screens. Here’s the Flyer‘s film awards for 2017.
Worst Picture: Transformers: The Last Knight
There was a crap-flood of big budget failures in 2017. The Mummy was horrifying in the worst way. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales sank the franchise. There was an Emoji Movie for some reason. What set Michael Bay’s nadir apart from the “competition” was its sneering contempt for the audience. I felt insulted by this movie. Everyone involved needs to take a step back and think about their lives.
Zeitgiestiest: Ingrid Goes West
In the first few years of the decade, our inner worlds were reshaped by social media. In 2017, social media reshaped the real world. No film better understood this crucial dynamic, and Aubrey Plaza’s ferociously precise performance as an Instagram stalker elevates it to true greatness.
Most Recursive: The Disaster Artist
James Franco’s passion project is a great film about an awful film. He is an actor dismissed as a lightweight doing a deep job directing a film about the worst director ever. He does a great job acting as a legendarily bad actor. We should be laughing at the whole thing, but somehow we end up crying at the end. It’s awesome.
Overlooked Gem:Blade Runner 2049
How does a long-awaited sequel to one of the greatest sci-fi films of all time, directed by one of the decade’s best directors, co-starring a legendary leading man and the hottest star of the day, end up falling through the cracks? Beats me, but if you like Dennis Villaneuve, Harrison Ford, Ryan Gosling, smart scripts, and incredible cinematography, and you didn’t see this film, rectify your error
Best Scene: Wonder Woman in No Man’s Land
The most successful superhero movie of the year was Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman. Midway through the picture, our hero leads a company of soldiers across a muddy World War I battlefield. Assailed on every side by machine gun fire and explosions, Wonder Woman presses on, never wavering, never doubting, showing the fighting men what real inner strength looks like. In this moment, Gal Gadot became a hero to millions of girls.
Best Memphis Movie: Good Grief
Melissa Anderson Sweazy and Laura Jean Hocking’s documentary Good Grief rose above a highly competitive, seven-film Hometowner slate at Indie Memphis to sweep the feature awards. It is a delicate, touching portrait of a summer camp for children who have lost loved ones due to tragedy. Full disclosure: I’m married to one of the directors. Fuller disclosure: I didn’t have a damn thing to do with the success of this film.
MVP: Adam Driver
Anyone with eyes could see former Girls co-star Adam Driver was a great actor, but he came into his own in 2017 with a trio of perfect performances. First, he lost 50 pounds and went on a seven-day silent prayer vigil to portray a Jesuit missionary in Martin Scorsese’s Silence. Then he was Clyde Logan, the one-armed Iraq vet who helps his brother and sister rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway in Stephen Soderberg’s Logan Lucky. Finally, he was Kylo Ren, the conflicted villain who made Star Wars: The Last Jedi the year’s best blockbuster.
Best Editing: Baby Driver
Edgar Wright’s heist picture is equal parts Bullitt and La La Land. In setting some of the most spectacular car chases ever filmed to a mixtape of sleeper pop hits from across the decades, Wright and editor Jonathan Amos created the greatest long-form music video since “Thriller.”
Best Screenplay:The Big Sick Screenwriter Emily V. Gordon, and comedian Kumail Nanjiani turned the story of their unlikely (and almost tragic) courtship into the year’s best and most humane comedy.
Best Performance By A Nonhuman: Sylvio Bernardi, Sylvio
In this hotly contested category, 2014 winner Caesar, the ape commander of War For The Planet Of The Apes, was narrowly defeated by a simian upstart. Sylvio, co-directed by Memphian Kentucker Audley, is a low-key comedy about a mute monkey in sunglasses (played by co-director Albert Binny) who struggles to keep his dignity intact while breaking into the cutthroat world of cable access television. Sylvio speaks to every time you’ve felt like an awkward outsider.
Best Performance (Honorable Mention):Kyle MacLachlan, Twin Peaks: The Return
David Lynch referred to his magnum opus as an 18-hour film, but Twin Peaks is a TV series to its core. The Return may be the crowning achievement of the current second golden age of television, but without MacLachlan’s beyond brilliant performance, Lynch’s take-no-prisoners surrealism would fly apart. I struggle to think of any precedent for MacLachlan’s achievement, playing at least four different versions of Special Agent Dale Cooper, whose identity gets fractured across dimensions as he tries to escape the clutches of the Black Lodge.
Best Performance: Francis McDormand,Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
Sometimes the best film performers are the ones who do the least, and no one does nothing better than Francis McDormand. As the mother of a murdered daughter seeking the justice in the court of public opinion she was denied in the court of law, McDormand stuffs her emotions way down inside, so a clenched jaw or raised eyebrow lands harder than the most impassioned speech.
Best Director: Greta Gerwig,Lady Bird Lady Bird is destined to be a sentimental, coming-of-age classic for a generation of women. But it is not itself excessively sentimental. Greta Gerwig and star Saoirse Ronan are clear-eyed about their heroine’s failings and delusions as she navigates the treacherous psychic waters of high school senior year. Gerwig, known until now primarily as an actor, wrote and directed this remarkably insightful film that is as close to perfection as anything on the big screen in 2017.
Best Picture:Get Out — In prepping for my year-end list, I re-read my review for Get Out, which was positive but not gushing. Yet I have thought about this small, smart film from comedian Jordan Peele more than any other 2017 work. Peele took the conventions of horror films and shaped them into a deeply reasoned treatise on the insidious evil of white supremacy. Sometimes, being alive in 2017 seemed like living in The Sunken Place, and Peele’s film seems like a message from a saner time.
“I can’t help thinking it’s a lot like making a sequel to Casablanca,” tweeted author William Gibson while on his way to see Blade Runner 2049. Gibson has the distinction of being one of the first in a long line of creators influenced by Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner. He was about a third of the way through his first draft of Neuromancer, the novel that invented cyberpunk and indelibly shaped our conception of the internet age, when he saw the film. Neuromancer and its sequels are set in a decaying urban world that looks a lot like the hellscape Scott created for Blade Runner.
Casablanca has been described as having a screenplay made entirely of cliches — but the reason they’re cliches is because subsequent screenwriters stole them from Casablanca. Something like that happened with Blade Runner visually. “It affected the way people dressed,” Gibson said in a recent Paris Review interview. “It affected the way people decorated nightclubs. Architects started building office buildings you could tell they had seen in Blade Runner. It had an astonishingly broad aesthetic impact on the world.”
Blade Runner was released in the summer of 1982, sci-fi’s cinema’s miracle year, in the company of classics like Poltergeist, The Thing, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Tron, and The Dark Crystal. But Scott’s groundbreaking visual masterpiece had the misfortune to be released two weeks after Spielberg’s E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial. Two years earlier, Ronald Reagan had declared Morning in America, and audiences wanted a feel-good story about a brave, healing alien more than a glimpse into the dystopian future. Even having Harrison Ford as the lead couldn’t put asses in seats, and Blade Runner flopped hard, almost destroying Scott’s career.
But the legend grew over the decades, and so Scott, acting as executive producer, tapped Arrival director Denis Villeneuve to helm the long-awaited (or perhaps long-dreaded) sequel, with screenwriter Hampton Fancher, who had adapted Philip K. Dick for the original film. Cinematographer Roger Deakins, who worked with Villeneuve on Sicario, was chosen to follow up one of the most visually influential films in history.
Blade Runner‘s opening shot identifies the setting as “Los Angles, 2019.” Blade Runner 2049 begins with an echo of those images: An eye, in extreme close up, and a flying car gliding over the ruins of California. In the ensuing three decades, the ecological crisis has only deepened. The only way to grow food is in vast, climate-controlled greenhouses. When the car lands in one lonely agricultural outpost, K (Ryan Gosling) emerges. Like Rick Deckard, he works for the LAPD hunting down artificial humans or replicants, who have gone rogue. Unlike Deckard, he is unambiguously a replicant himself. At the farm, he finds Sapper Morton (Dave Bautista), an android on the run who berates him for killing “his own kind.” He wouldn’t do that, Sapper says, if he had “seen the miracle.” K kills him anyway, but the words ring in his ears. What miracle?
Those fearing a cookie cutter remake of the original will be pleased to discover that this is not the case. Blade Runner 2049‘s story builds logically on the original — a seemingly impossible task pulled off gracefully by Fancher and co-writer Michael Green. Resonances come not out of slavish fan service, but because both films are essentially noir detective stories. Some elements feel more like a sequel to Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? than Scott’s film, such as K’s relationship with his holographic A.I. Joi (Ana de Armas)—two simulated beings experiencing possibly real emotions. Gosling gives by far the best performance of his career. When his investigation leads him to an aged Deckard living in the irradiated remains of Las Vegas, he goes toe to toe with Ford and a malfunctioning Elvis hologram in a bravado sequence that alone is worth the price of admission.
The only element of 2049 significantly inferior to the original film is the music. Vangelis’ improvisational synth score is as big a part of the Blade Runner mystique as John Williams’ soundtrack is for Star Wars. Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch created a conventional, pounding, atonal soundscape that feels much less subtle.
The film’s running time is hefty, but its pleasures are deep and satisfying. Villeneuve’s direction is brilliant, and if Deakins doesn’t win an Oscar for this cinematography, the award has no meaning. See it on the largest screen you can find.
Star Wars fans have spent more than a decade in the wilderness. Sure, there were some great moments in the prequels, but over all, but there’s no denying that the twenty-first century has not been kind to George Lucas’ vision. But our time in the wilderness is over, and we have returned to the promised galaxy.
Star Wars: The Force Awakens is not a perfect film. Parts of the second act are muddled. The galaxy now seems a little less vast, and the political details are undercooked. There are times when the cast are shuffled around unnaturally to feed the needs of the plot. J. J. Abrams simply does not understand how hyperspace works.
John Boyega as Finn
But you know what? The prequels gave us complex galactic politics as Lucas tried to transform Flash Gordon into Issac Asimov’s Foundation. Truth to be told, that’s what the fans who had obsessed over every detail in the Orig Trig thought we wanted, but we were wrong. I will forgive Abrams for playing fast and loose with the details of a fictional FTL drive cobbled from A Wrinkle In Time, because the tear-stained faces of the faithful streaming out of the 7 PM Paradiso screening last night attested to what he got right.
From Abrams history in TV and film, particularly in his butchering of the Star Trek universe, it’s clear that he’s better at character than plot. That made producer Kathleen Kennedy’s choice of Abrams to helm the reintroduction of Han and Leia a wise one, and her decision to have The Empire Strikes Back writer Lawrence Kasdan riding herd on him one worthy of Yoda. Gone is the unspeakable mishmash of dialog from the prequels. Kasdan’s screenplay is weighed down with an unwieldy cast, but pair of leads emerge in the persons of Harrison Ford and Daisy Ridley.
Peter Mayhew as Chewbacca and Harrison Ford as Han Solo
At this point, the only thing that could draw Ford out of a comfortable retirement of recreational aviation and bopping Calista Flockhart is the prospect of taking the controls of the Millennium Falcon one last time. Ford phoned it in for years in one big budget paycheck movie after another, which makes the sight of a fully armed and operational Han Solo something to behold. In the 30 years since the Battle of Endor, Solo has seen personal tragedy. He’s not the happy go lucky rogue any more, even if he’s returned to the pirate lifestyle, but neither is he a broken man. Chewbacca is still at his side, but he’s more than just a furry sidekick this time around. Kasdan and Abrams have made him a full fledged hero in his own right. Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia is now General Organa, charged with defending the weak and fragmented Republic against the First Order, a fascist movement built from the fragments of the Empire. Leia’s not in the center of the action any more, but when Fisher and Ford share a screen for the first time in 32 years, this reviewer’s tears flowed freely.
Carrie Fisher as Leia Organa
Taking Leia’s place is Daisy Ridley as Rey, an orphaned scavenger on the planet Jakku living off the scraps of the final battle that broke both the New Republic and the Empire’s militaries twenty years earlier. Ridley proved to be the project’s best casting choice, as she easily holds the screen with both legends and talented newcomers. She has the air of a bona fide movie star in the making. Her chemistry with John Boyega, who plays fugitive Stormtrooper Finn as a Cowardly Lion, bodes well for the future films.
Daisy Ridley as Rey
Rey’s opposite is Kylo Ren, played to the hilt by Adam Driver, who attracted attention on HBO as Lena Dunham’s boyfriend on Girls. Driver’s background in post-mumblcore naturalism serves him extremely well, as he paints Kylo Ren not as a cold force of evil nature like Darth Vader, but as a petulant, wannabe punk, prone to fits of rage and delusions of grandeur. To the audience, it’s clear that he’s just a pawn in a larger game being played by the Emperor’s successor, Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis), but he hasn’t figured it out yet.
Adam Driver as Kylo Ren
I won’t be responsible for spoiling the ending for you, except to say that the emotional climax is devastating.
There are many callbacks to moments in the Orig Trig, but it would be wrong to say that The Force Awakens is a mere rehash of A New Hope. Sure, there’s a formula to these things, but Kasdan and Abrams are doing more than just walking us through the Stations of the Force. It makes perfect sense, for example, for the First Order to pursue the Tarkin Doctrine and construct its own superweapon. In the case of the good guys, no less an authority than Foreign Policy magazine weighed in this morning with this: “In hindsight, it’s clear that, for the Rebel Alliance the Imperial defeat at the Battle of Endor was a classic example of a catastrophic victory: a sudden collapse of a seemingly unbeatable foe that produced opportunities it was unprepared to exploit.”
Like a Chuck Jones Looney Tunes cartoon, The Force Awakens speaks on multiple levels. The kids will respond—strongly—to the swashbuckling and derring do, and the vibrant new stars in the making. For older fans like myself, there is a poignance in seeing how things turned out for our old heroes who won the Star Wars but botched the peace, leaving the next generation to clean up their mess. So it always goes.
Automotive and film technology came of age at roughly the same time, and cars have always been a particular source of fascination for filmmakers. When the first drive-in movie theater opened in New Jersey in 1933, it was the beginning of a potent and inevitable synergy between two of America’s favorite cultural forces. Movies sold the dream of freedom, and cars became the most prominent and expensive symbols of that freedom. People would pay to sit in their cars and watch movies about cars.
The theme of the next edition of the popular Time Warp Drive-In series (running the last Saturday of each month through October) is Hell On Wheels, which gave the organizers, filmmaker Mike McCarthy and Black Lodge Video proprietor Matthew Martin, plenty of choices for programming.
The night will kick off with George Lucas’ American Graffiti. The film was Lucas’ first big hit, made after the studio-destroying dystopian sci-fi film THX 1138 had all but ended his career. Few films can claim the deep cultural impact of Lucas’ Star Wars, but American Graffiti comes close. Its meandering, multi-character story structure bears a resemblance to Robert Altman or Richard Linklater’s work but is utterly unlike the Hero’s Journey plots that would come to be associated with Lucas’ later work. Still, Lucas’ techno-fetishism is on full display with the loving beauty shots of classic autos designed in the days before wind tunnels and ubiquitous seat belts.
Even though the film was set in 1962, the chronicle of aimless youth cruising around a sleepy California town kicked off a wave of nostalgia for all things 1950s. The pre-British Invasion rock-and-roll and doo-wop soundtrack became one of the best selling film soundtracks in history, and Ron Howard — who, as Opie on TheAndy Griffith Show, was himself a bit of TV nostalgia — and Cindy Williams would ride the popularity of American Graffiti into starring roles on Happy Days and its spinoff, Laverene & Shirley. It also marked the big break of a struggling actor and part-time carpenter named Harrison Ford.
The second Hell on Wheels film, Two-Lane Blacktop, is a classic hot rod movie from 1971 starring James Taylor (yes, that James Taylor) and Beach Boys drummer Dennis Wilson. If American Graffiti manifested America’s longing for a simpler time before the social upheaval of the 1960s, Two-Lane Blacktop was one of the counterculture’s dying gasps. It’s an Easy Rider-like plot with muscle cars: Two nameless street racers heading east from California challenge a square (Warren Oates) to a cross-country race to Washington, D.C. The dialog is sparse and the performances fairly flat, but the real point of Two-Lane Blacktop is the wide-open vistas of a now-vanished America.
The third film of the night, 1968’s Bullitt, is similarly light on dialog, but it is the opposite of counterculture. Steve McQueen at his sexiest plays a homicide cop trying to solve the murder of a mob informant. McQueen’s Frank Bullitt is the prototype of the “playing by his own rules” cop that would become so familiar in later films, but the movie’s real significance lies in the epic car chase that sees McQueen driving an iconic 1968 fastback Mustang through the streets of San Francisco set to Lalo Schifrin’s swinging jazz score. The oft-imitated but never equaled scene is worth the price of admission for the entire evening.
The program closes with Robert Mitchum playing a Tennessee bootlegger in1953’s legendary Thunder Road. Mitchum co-wrote the screenplay and produced the movie, which tells the story of a Korean War vet’s turbulent return to the violent world of moonshiners and flophouses. The noir-inflected film served as the template for dozens of hot rod exploitation stories, taught greasers to emulate Mitchum’s laconic cool, and even inspired Bruce Springsteen to write a song about it. It’s a fitting capper to a night of burning rubber and tail fins.