Pain & Gain

2013 dumbness

Rating: 8/20

Plot: A trio of bodybuilders try to pull off a kidnapping scheme in order to get rich quickly. It's based on a true story.

This is the worst movie I've seen all year with a gratuitous shot of Mark Wahlberg in his tighty whities.

This movie seems divisive, likely because of people's feelings about the use of the ampersand in titles, but I was tricked into watching it by one film critic whom I usually trust. It started out promising with references to the American dream, convincing me that there might be a satirical edge. It was heavy-handed, sure, but there was at least something there with the references to "scrawny countries" compared to our "most buff country on the planet," the idea of wanting to improve yourself being the best way to be a good American or how it's un-American to not take advantage of your gifts, mantras about the reach exceeding the grasp, and the country being the land of the brave and the home of second chances.

I also enjoyed a lot of the cast. Tony Shalhoub is the best of the main characters here although Ed Harris isn't bad as a detective. I always enjoy seeing Larry Hankin, and he's in this briefly as this creepy preacher. And hey, there's the great Peter Stormare playing a doctor and talking about "beautiful, robust erections." Unfortunately, Marky Mark is just kind of playing a slightly dumber character than the characters he usually plays while Dwayne Johnson. . .well, I'm not entirely sure what The Rock's got going on here.

It's all just so dumb. This is like black comedy for the frat boy crowd, a movie that Michael Bays all over the place until it's the cinematic equivalent of a douche. Not a real douche, of course, but the disparaging name some dumb guys might call other dumb guys. The satire is there, but it's so hamfisted. The dialogue is intentionally bad. I get that. But I'm not sure if the horrible editing with an average shot length of 2 1/2 seconds or the overall ugly look is part of the gag or not. You feel like a good movie--something along the lines of last year's American Animals--might have been possible here if Michael Bay hadn't have gotten his greasy mitts all over it.

Great effort seems to be made to make the three kidnappers/murderers/hand-grillers into sympathetic characters throwing in impotence gags, The Rock's lovable grin, and Marky Mark's underpants. That didn't sit well with me either.

An American in Paris

1951 musical

Rating: 14/20

Plot: An American in Paris, the titular painter in the titular city, falls for a woman while another rich woman tries to pay him to have sex with her.

You can watch this whole movie if you want, but you're better off just fast-forwarding to scenes where it looks like Gene Kelly is about to start dancing and just watching those. Actually, watch the first scene where the camera moves through this artificial setting while three or four different characters narrate for us. You'll get a feel for the characters and what they're about, and after an initial conversation with the three leads--one in which Leslie Caron's Lise Bouvier is introduced colorfully with about five costume chances and different monochromatic backgrounds--you're likely going to be able to piece together this entire story yourself. No, scratch that. You have to meet the rich lady, too. But then after that, you can save yourself a lot of time by writing the rest of the story in your head, shortcutting your way through a plot that takes way too much time to develop, completely missing some pretty dopey dialogue, and not having your opinion of Gene Kelly changed by his character here--a goofy-grinning American stalker.

You will miss an extra--a bald guy at the Cafe Bel Ami--who couldn't take his eyes off Gene Kelly for some reason, but I'm not sure he's worth watching this entire bloated production for.

The song and dance numbers are really good. There's Gene Kelly tap-dancing around some children, a scene where you're waiting to see whether one of the children gets injured by being tap-danced in the head or if somehow Kelly's big goofy grin is going to somehow hurt one of them. There's a fantastic "Tra-La-La" number with Kelly dancing on top of Oscar Levant's piano and probably irritating any downstairs neighbors they might have. There's a lovely dance by a river when the two leads fall in love, the kind of love-falling that can only take place in a musical like this. There's a dream sequence where Oscar Levant goes absolutely fucking batshit on a piano and then, just like Buster Keaton, plays everything else, too. That's a dream sequence because the movie's plot is much too simple to involve the cloning of concert pianists. Unfortunately.

And then there's the final 15 or 20 minutes of the movie, another dream sequence. It's quite the spectacle, a ballet with these wonderful sets, stunning colors, and some of the best choreography I've seen in any movie musical. Sure, Gene Kelly's pants during one portion of that sequence made me really uncomfortable, but this whole scene made the entire movie worth it, a lot like how a really good ride at Disney World can make a long wait in a line worth it. Not even the silly happy ending thrown in there soured me after that ballet sequence.

Cold Water

1994 romantic coming-of-age story

Rating: 14/20

Plot: Two unhappy teens get into some trouble, retreat to an abandoned house for a party and bonfire, and then make plans for the future.

With irritating aesthetics, the majority of this movie really doesn't move much at all though the 16 mm camera is constantly wiggling. Things pick up with a lengthy party sequence. Although the camerawork still made me a little dizzy, images often blurring into abstractions, at least the music was pretty good. Janis Joplin, my main man Donovan, "School's Out," my other main man Dylan with "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," Cohen's "Avalanche," some CCR as things burn, Uriah Heep, and a return of "Virginia Plain" by Roxy Music, a parallel to the very first scene of the movie where siblings are wrestling over a radio. Best of all is the use of Nico's "Janitor of Lunacy" in a post-party sequence while a kid eats ravioli from a can and a handful of kids take dumps together in the backyard. Those party scenes contain stories told with almost no dialogue whatsoever, but they still work.

Actually, forget the Nico. The best use of music might be the vocal stylings of some old white people seen on the television at the institution. It's wonderfully maddening!

Aside from the cool soundtrack choices, this also references Allen Ginsberg's Planet News. That's right before the most beautiful shot of the movie--a kid emerging from the woods, jumping on his bicycle, and becoming an abstract fuzzy figure as he's absorbed by this gorgeous fog.

Scarecrow

1973 buddy comedy

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Fresh out of jail, a tough guy meets a sailor who wants to connect with a former lover and his child he has never met in Detroit. They travel together and make plans to open a car wash in Pittsburgh.

I love a first shot capable of jolting me. This one's a tan hill with a few trees, a figure clumsily walking down that hill, a barbed-wire fence in the foreground, and a dark sky. Then, a shot of Pacino lurking behind a tree, Hackman getting to show off some of his physical comedy stylings, and an awkward meeting between the two characters whose friendship, partnership, falling-out, and reconnection makes up this drifting narrative.

This is a very 1970s film, the kind that Hollywood definitely doesn't make anymore, a counterculture artifact no concerned about shaking off the dust or grime. It succeeds because director Jerry Schatzberg, I'm guessing, allowed his two leads to explore. Hackman and Pacino don't do anything here that will shock anybody familiar with the rest of their filmographies, but the performances and ways they develop these two unlikely cohorts carries the story. Both are at the top of their game here. A good actor has an understanding of his or her own character. Here, the performances are great because both Hackman and Pacino have an understanding of their own characters and an understanding of how their character is going to be perceived by others. That's another layer a lot of performers don't explore, but here, these two go even deeper and create characters who have that awareness but also know when to be completely unaware. So they're actors who understand every ounce of their characters, understand how others will perceive those characters, and still have a lack of self-awareness that contributes to the character development. It's awesome to watch, and it just seems like they're doing it so effortlessly.

I'm probably not describing that very well at all. I should just give up. Writing a successful blog post right now seems about as likely as these two characters operating a successful car wash business.

Day for Night

1973 meta-comedy

Rating: 17/20

Plot: A director tries to make a movie

After a terrible week, this Truffaut film didn't manage to cheer me up any.

2081

2009 short

Rating: I don't rate shorts.

Plot: In 2081, laws and the Handicapper General has ensured that everybody is equal. When one man tries to defy those laws and threatens the status quo, something has to be done.

My students agreed with me that this short wasn't as good as the short story it was based on--Kurt Vonnegut's "Harrison Bergeron." The changes the filmmakers made didn't add anything at all, and in one instance, I thought they really hurt a surprise element that makes the story work. Director Chandler Tuttle (a made-up name if I've ever heard one!) does a lot with a small budget, but it's impossible to hide some of the problems the lack of funds caused. I did enjoy the performances. Julie Hagerty is in this, and she plays a dumb character about as well as any actress can. James Cosmo's good, really subdued, revealing his emotions in quiet non-movements and barely-audible grunts. And guess who plays Harrison Bergeron? That's right, a long-haired Armie Hammer.

I'm glad that despite the changes that were made to the story, they still kept the goofy joke that Vonnegut ended his story with.

The Night Strangler

1973 television movie sequel

Rating: 14/20

Plot: Following the vampire shenanigans in Las Vegas, disgraced reporter Carl Kolchak moves to Seattle and becomes involved in another wacky, possibly-supernatural murder mystery.

There are two things I failed to mention when writing about this movie's predecessor--The Night Stalker. First, I really dig the music. It's by Bob Cobert, and it really helps the action move in these things. Second, I really like Kolchak's wardrobe. That hat is enough to make him stand out all on its own, but his collection of suits are also perfect for this character. I can't pretend I'm an expert in men's fashion from the year I was born, but it seems like McGavin's just a little out of style here.

Speaking of McGavin, he gets more opportunities to scream at people in this one, and that probably enhances the experience. The conflict between law enforcement and journalism intensifies in this one, and if there had been a third movie, I imagine it would have involved McGavin biting somebody's face off. Maybe he does in the television series. I should watch that and find out.

McGavin is on top of things here, a few steps ahead of everybody else. Or at least a few steps ahead of where everybody would like to admit they are. He's sans his Las Vegas connections--the one he can get info from in exchange from a Whitman's sampler--and is forced to find new friends to work with. There's a lovely belly dancer played by Jo Ann Pflug. She's best, it should be noted, when she's belly dancing, her hips moving "just as fast as her mouth." The image almost makes me want to say something about how I wouldn't mind an opportunity to pflug her, but that doesn't sound like something I'd ever type. Other friends include Wally Cox, Margaret Hamilton, and Al Lewis as the "guardian of the secrets of Seattle buried in the morgue of the Daily Chronicle," a professor, and a tipsy underground dweller. Add in John Carradine, and you've got quite a fun cast here!

My two favorite characters: Joe Roberts, a guy singing "Blue Heaven," poorly; and Wilma Krankheimer, a character who scowls at McGavin as a kind of running gag.

There's some goofiness here (the killer screaming "Ahhh!" every time he attacks, a climax that is a little too convenient), but it's hard to complain about all that because this is fun little movie. The usage of Underground Seattle was inspired. That was really cool to see.

The Night Stalker

1972 television vampire movie

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A reporter tries to get to the bottom of a series of Las Vegas murders.

This is long overdue as it's a movie that Cory really loves. I'm currently working on a "Best of 1973" list and noticed that the sequel--The Night Strangler--is on Cory's top-ten list. The Night Stalker is on his 1972 list, and I've known he's liked these for a while but have never gotten around to watching them.

It's got a little more grit than what you'd normally expect from a made-for-television movie, and that's likely because it's got the stink of the 1970s all over it. With a script by the great Richard Matheson, a good story can at least be expected. This delivers, maybe not because of how interesting or original the plot is but how much wit is in the storytelling. A lot of the appeal is Darren McGavin in the lead performance as a the protagonist, a sort of anti-hero reporter named Carl Kolchak. More than any character in recent memory, this is one I wouldn't mind sitting down and having a few drinks with. He's got to cool hat, and McGavin also brings this brand of cool to the screen, almost in this effortless way. He's fun to watch when he's a step or two ahead of the other characters, when he's at odds with the other characters, when he's lost patience with the other characters, when he's smooth-talking other characters, when he's celebrating some minor victory, or when he's beleaguered. I can even put up with large chunks of this being narrated, especially since he's saying cool noirish things like "Cheryl Hughes. . .on route to her doom." He's just great, and I imagine a lot of the appeal of this for Cory is McGavin's performance.

The action scenes are a little goofballish, but the Whitman's sampler product placement and the realization that hospitals just keep bottles of blood in refrigerators made up for that. I also liked a used car salesman played by Stanley Adams. Add in just the right amount of style, including some sly camera work in a climactic sequence when McGavin is exploring a house, and you've got a television movie definitely worth checking out.

If Beale Street Could Talk

2018 movie that is not a Best Picture nominee

Rating: 16/20

Plot: 22-year-old Fonny has knocked up 19-year-old girlfriend Tish. When he's arrested for a crime he didn't commit, their families have to deal with it.

I've mentioned the guy who works across the hall from me, a black man who I desperately want to fool into thinking I'm cooler than I am. So far, it's not worked very well although he does laugh at my jokes. He's got the best laugh. Anyway, a couple of months ago, we were talking about movies and both picked what we thought had a chance to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards. His pick was either Boy Erased or the other one with Steve Carell, something I think is called Boy Inebriated or something like that. I haven't seen either one of those and don't really plan on it. My pick was one I felt was almost cheating--picking a follow-up to Best Picture winner Moonlight. Or did La La Land win that year? I can never keep that straight. My pick wasn't even nominated, and even though I hadn't gotten around to seeing it yet, I was surprised. Now that I've actually seen it, I'm even more surprised.

Barry Jenkins is a maestro, and in this James Baldwin adaptation, he's conducting a smooth jazz that just hits all my sweet spots. He weaves together the characters' presents with flashbacks outlining a budding and very believable romance, and he does it in a way that brings out a variety of emotions. During those flashbacks where we see Tish and Fonny in various stages of their budding romance, you just feel that love. It bleeds through the screen. You fall in love with the way these characters have fallen in love with each other--the way she looks at him, the way he longs for her, the way they have sex, the way he is so gentle with her when they're getting ready to have sex, the way they struggle, the way they celebrate together, the way they just become one on the screen. And that makes it more devastating when they're separated by a sheet of glass. Jenkins gives us imagery and performances that are capable of filling the audience with joy, of making the audience angry at injustices both big and small, of making the audience as anxious as Regina King's character as she readies herself with make-up and a wig in front of a mirror, of shocking us with the lack of empathy a character can have for another because of ingrained religious beliefs. It's just a movie that makes you feel. You feel it more than you watch it, and it sits with you for hours and hours after the credits have rolled.

Jenkins does a lot with color here, and the camera work, while rarely flashy, always seems to be just exactly where it's supposed to be for as long as it needs to be there. Just as important to the visuals, however, is the score. It's a gorgeous one, fragile echoing horns and yearning strings. The score is from Nicholas Britell, the same guy who did Moonlight.

The ensemble cast is great, nearly perfect individual melodies weaving in and out of the narratives. Kiki Layne and Stephan James are entirely believable, but their romance is also one that seems less like a movie and more like a dream you've stumbled into or some sort of fairy tale. Brian Tyree Henry pops into this for about ten minutes and hits every note so well in a scene that's a roller coaster of subtle emotional shifts that you might wind up believing he is the best actor on the planet. Regina King really is as good as advertised, and without reminding myself who else is up for the Best Supporting Actress award, I'll say that she's definitely deserving. I like the two fathers played by Colman Domingo and Michael Beach, too. They all collaborate so well with Jenkins, sharing secrets with the audience through both their dialogue and through all sorts of things that aren't said at all. Just lovely performances.

So many standout scenes. I think I was hooked from the get-go with one of the fancier shots and the accompanying music. A scene where the two families get together so that one can share the news of the pregnancy is another stand-out, including a pair of moments that actually made me laugh out loud. So much smoke during a more ostentatious scene spiraling around a character's artwork, all the complimentary colors, a scene with imaginary appliances in a future apartment, a celebration in the middle of a dreamlike street, smashed tomatoes on a brick wall, a scene on a subway preceding a sex scene, that sex scene and a brief shot of a record playing, Stephan James stripping to his underpants, the aforementioned scene with Regina King and a mirror, the scene with Brian Tyree Henry.

I've given both Moonlight and this a 16/20, and I'm wondering if I'd raise those scores if I saw them again. Maybe I'll give Moonlight another viewing soon.

Again, I can't believe that this wasn't nominated for Best Picture over A Star Is Born, Black Panther, and Bohemian Rhapsody. It just doesn't make any sense.

Bohemian Rhapsody

2018 Best Picture nominee

Rating: 12/20

Plot: The story of Queen, a band.

A meta gag, a little too cheap for my tastes, featuring a reference to Wayne's World didn't help me realize that it was an unrecognizable Mike Myers in the scene. I believe that means I'm some sort of moron, and any movie responsible for convincing me that I'm a moron can't be worthy of a Best Picture nomination.

This covers too much territory, a shallow look at the Queen story. It nudges up against a lot, sweats on all of it a little bit, and barely pauses to let the viewer catch his breath. It's a Queen's greatest hits musical biopic. The high points make it worth watching--the recording studio stuff where the group is experimenting in the early days or recording "Bohemian Rhapsody," the performances (including the climactic Live Aid concert), the part where Mercury compares his throat to a vulture's crotch. The music stuff is fantastic even when the editing isn't, but when there's not music going on, the movie's a little generic and a little poorly written. Narrative liberties were taken, but that didn't bother me as much as the cheap Wayne's World gag, something that should have been a part of a deleted scene.

Is Rami Malek good? Like the rest of the movie, his performance is good when there's music involved and not so good when it isn't. The teeth are distracting, and I'm not sure I was supposed to laugh when he told a character that he was born with four more incisors than a normal human being. Malek has the moves and mannerisms and mustache down, and whatever movie magic is responsible to blend his voice with Mercury's and some Canadian's voice worked really well.

Live and Let Die

1973 Bond movie

Rating: 12/20

Plot: Bond tries to bust up an evil mastermind's plan to get everybody hooked on heroin.

Roger Moore came in silly guns a'blazin' in this, his first movie as James Bond. This isn't as effective as the equally-silly follow-up, The Man with the Golden Gun, likely because there's no Herve Villechaize. As silly as some of these Bond movies (especially the Moore ones) can be, this one still somehow manages to stand out like something that almost feels like a parody. Before the credits and that Paul McCartney song, there are three murders involving irritating sounds, a fake-looking snake, and a dixieland casket. Along the way, you get henchman with intimidating metallic arms, (a guy named Tee Hee, naturally) James Bond escaping from a predicament by jumping on crocodiles' heads like he's the character in Atari's Pitfall, a chase with an airplane where the plane never leaves the ground, a boat chase, a sheriff character (Clifton James' J.W. Peppers, not doing anything here which would make you think he should be in the follow-up as well) who seems straight out of a Smokey and the Bandit rip-off, virginal Tarot card readings, voodoo dancers, all sorts of mystical shit, a shark, a double-decker bus, a musical number, death-by-compressed-gas-pellet, and a character named Whispers.

So it's kind of mindless fun. But there's an issue. This Bond film wants to piggybank off the popularity of blaxploitation, and it does so in a way that seems so backwards and dated 45 years later. In this movie, there are lots of black characters. The problem is that every single character--from the cab driver with those fantastic sideburns to Mr. Big and his henchmen to a whiny and screeching double agent--are all bad guys. Well, except one. There's one black character who's a good guy, but he doesn't really do much of anything and dies offscreen unceremoniously. But don't worry--we get to see a whole lot of black people shot, and Tee Hee, Whisper, and Mr. Big et. al. die spectacularly. It just didn't make me feel good to see a movie in which all the good guys are white people and all the bad guys are black. And don't get me started on any subtexts about black people being responsible for bringing drugs into communities or nonsense like that. The whole thing even managed to make the Bond movies' usual attitude toward women less palatable.

I did like Jane Seymour as Solitaire, the Bond girl in this one. Along with that Bond motif, the character also gets a gadget, a silly, overused magnetic watch. And he gets to go to exotic locales--like Harlem. And there are all sorts of delightfully bad punning quips. The character fits Roger Moore well. I always like him in these things.

I'd forever be thankful to this movie for having a character teach me about the difference between alligators and crocodiles, something my long-time blog readers know I've always had a problem with, but unfortunately, I've already forgotten the difference.

RBG

2018 biographical documentary

Rating: 14/20 (Jen: No rating, saying "You don't do your blog anymore, so I don't have to rate movies anymore.")

Plot: The life and career of Ruth Bader Ginsberg, second female on the Supreme Court and all-around badass.

My wife's one-word review--"light." This is fine, a pop-documentary that has just the right amount of breeze and inspiration. This checks all the boxes it's supposed to. Silly archival footage (Trump's favorite show Saturday Night Live, etc.), obvious music (Beethoven's 7th alert!), and interview snippets from Ginsberg's family members, folks she'd represented, and colleagues move this zippily along. It succeeded in making me want a t-shirt, and if that was the intent, I guess it was effective.

Honestly, the whole thing made me a little sick. No amount of shots showing me how RBG works out is going to convince me that she's outliving Trump's presidency, and that terrifies me.

Of Fathers and Sons

2017 (2018?) documentary

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A filmmaker gains the trust of a jihadist and spends time with him and his sons.

Director Talal Derki was born in Syria but moved away and now lives in Germany. He came back to Syria, posing as a war photographer, and befriended this jihadist and his family. Well, only the sons are shown--the wives are barely mentioned and never seen. He's a fanatic, even naming his oldest son after Bin Laden and praising his god for allowing one of his sons to be born on September 11th. Sure, he does have that familiar whistling ringtone, something that really threw me for a loop for some reason, but this guy's pretty serious about wanting to play a part in a World War III that will bring about end times. He's like a Syrian Mike Pence. He sings along with the music played on the contemporary Islam music station, he snipes, he hunts for mines to remove, and he encourages his sons to grow up to be terrorists because mamas might know not to let their babies grow up to be jihadists, but mamas don't really have much say in this society.

This is disturbing, really a tough watch, and I was tense nearly from start to finish. I figured the filmmaker survived the experience of filming this family, but there really are so many ways he could have died during this project. I'm not sure how many sons this guy has, but the film focuses on a couple of them. Obama is a goofy-looking dangerous kid who throws rocks at kids at the school he's stopped going to because education isn't something that's important to a child. He also picks fights with people and, in one scene, catches a bird that he winds up killing. The other kid is almost a foil, and I really don't want to give too much more away because it would probably diminish the impact of this thing.

Very strangely, a scene where characters are crying in this affected me.

Hale County This Morning This Evening

2018 Best Documentary nominee

Rating: 16/20

Plot: It doesn't really have one although there's a kid who wants to play basketball and a couple who have children in there.

Like a more experimental Frederick Wiseman with a little more patience, first-time filmmaker RaMell Ross spent five years in the titular county filming its inhabitants and seeing what stories unfold. The results is a very short but mesmerizingly intimate look at real people with real struggles. It's lovely and poetic, often hopeful and often sad. Ross finds everyday magic in insignificant moments, focusing on a lot of the spaces between the bigger moments in these human beings' lives. Using slow-motion and time-lapse stuff and having sounds bleed from scenes into subsequent scenes, Ross brings just the right amount of flash to this, never forgetting that his movie is about people. Odd title screens bring up questions:

What is the orbit of our dreaming?
How do we frame someone?
What happens when all the cotton is picked?
Whose child is this?
Where does time reside?

It's probably unnecessary and doesn't give the imagery as much context as it might seem. Instead, the viewer is forced to put together the pieces and find connections between the seemingly incongruous and often abstract images and scenes. References to a catfish plant and lots and lots of sports allusions help a little, as do at least a dozen shots that have to do with celestial bodies--the sun in various stages of setting or rising, stars, clouds, the moon, even an eclipse, the latter discussed in accidentally profound ways as something people in their state can't see according to people in the know. I have to say--I was touched by the whole thing, even the parts I didn't understand.

My favorite bits:

--Looking up through a basketball hoop at time-lapsed stars and cloud wisps
--The moon magically showing up in a bathing child's hand
--Smoke from a burning tire rolling in front of trees and sunlight
--A guy standing on a horse and asking if he was "gonna be a star," yet another reference to skies and dreams
--A bee walking in circles in the empty bed of a truck
--Blurred television bubbles
--A hunched windsock man (a "balloon goon," if you ask my friend Fred) with fireworks in the background
--A deer in the headlights, hazard blinkers accompanying
--A cop's flashlight aimed at the audience (similar to Blindspotting)
--Crying while a plane spirals seemingly out of control

I wanted to penalize this a point because the words "careth not" appeared on the screen at one point, but then I remembered a scene where people are amusing themselves with the shadow of a Chick-fil-A fry and gave the point right back. More product placement--a Digiorno's ad playing while there's a shot of a line of drool running down a baby's stomach.

Love and Anarchy

1973 whore movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: An anarchist hides out in a brothel while planning an assassination of Benito Mussolini.

Giancarlo Giannini's wide eyes surrounded by an absurdly freckled face might be the most memorable part of Love and Anarchy, but I was most impressed with the way Lina Wertmuller's camera moves through this brothel and its eccentric crew of prostitutes--the whoreography, you could say. The assassination plot never really gets off the ground, not really helped by me having enough of a grasp on European history to know that Mussolini was never assassinated by a timid, freckled farmer and his whorish conspirators. Instead, the focus turns to the "love" in the first half of the movie's title. Lina Polito is alluring as the brothel occupant Giannini falls for, and although the montages showing the pair running around together might have been a little too long, I never really got tired of them.

Fyre

2019 documentary

Rating: 12/20

Plot: Details a failed luxury musical festival in the Bahamas.

This is a documentary that makes you think, "Am I as bad as Billy McFarland if I cheered under my breath when all these stupid rich millennials didn't get mattresses and had to eat cheese sandwiches?"

I probably shouldn't have watched this because I don't like to be reminded that people like this exist. 

Touki Bouki

1973 African romance story

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A couple in Senegal decide to escape Senegal and travel to France by any means necessary, including crime.

Don't be fooled by the cute title because within ten minutes, there are two graphic scenes involving the slaughtering of animals. A cow is slaughtered in a slaughterhouse, most of the screen filled with red, and later, the audience is treated to a scene where a goat is killed. I would much rather watch a human die than an animal any day, so these weren't exactly easy scenes. But they set the stage, giving an abstract exposition that helps make the characters' decision to flee make sense.

The film starts dialogue free, and like all of the best movies, it probably could have survived without a single line of dialogue. The first spoken words are actually "Oh, shit," similar to what I said when I saw how much blood can come from a cow's neck. Early visuals, straddling the line between documentary and drama, are striking, painting this world that a spoiled American like me can barely imagine really exists. The style really stands out. The narrative structure is experimental, the editing amateurish, and the editing consistently surprising. This was Djibril Diop Mambety's first movie (of two feature-length films), and it's not a surprise that he's not a classically-trained filmmaker. It feels like he's inventing his style as he goes, and there's almost an outsider artist quality to Touki Bouki that really appealed to me.

The guy has a bitchin' motorbike with a cow skull on it. She's escaping a cackling lady who dances with a knife and screams, "Now kill the goat!" Together, they chase a dream, one floating through the air in the form of a looped snippet of a song about how Paris is "a little piece of heaven on earth" It's a beautiful and possibly heartbreaking love story, sort of like a more chaotic Jarmusch.

Favorite part: a taxi cab driver's reaction to seeing a skull.

Silent Saturday: Spies

1928 spy movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Spies doing spy stuff. With a romantic subplot mixed in.

Add this to the "Things I Like Seeing in Silent Movies" list that you probably have on some document somewhere: people biting coins. Here, it's a kid who does it, and I think that might make it better.

IMdB tells me this is a 90-minute film. The version I watched was an hour longer than that, and I'm not sure how it could have been abridged without it winding up completely incoherent. I don't do well with spy intrigue anyway. Even dumb spy movies confuse me, probably because I've never thought of double-crossing anybody in my entire life. Fritz Lang's Spies did confuse me, but it was never in a way that hurt my enjoyment of the movie.

Most of the stand-out sequences are in the latter half of the film. Most thrilling is a sequence involving a train crash, and even the aftermath, with its gnarled train parts, is great. Also great--coconut bombs. Also great--an ending that doesn't really mesh with the rest of the movie or make all that much sense. Most great of all--Lang-regular Rudolf Klein-Rogge's hands. Villainous hands!

This isn't as good as the best spy movie from the 20's--Keaton's Sherlock Jr.--but few things are as good as that. It wouldn't surprise me to find out that this thing was very influential, however.

High Flying Bird

2019 sports movie without the sports

Rating: 10/20

Plot: A sports agent tries to keep his head above water and help his players survive a professional basketball lockout.

The best part of this movie is a scene where Kyle MacLachlan blows a snot rocket. That can't be a good thing.

I'm not sure what Steven Soderbergh is doing with these iPhones, but I don't like it. Opening dialogue is shot from all these odd camera angles that really don't add anything at all. Later, there's a conversation with five people in an office, and the camera work is about as bad as I've seen in a long time. I'm talking inept filmmaker bad. One shot that sort of typifies the way this movie is shot is one where characters at a bar are partially obscured by three glasses filled with limes, lemons, and cherries. Why? What's the point?

This was written by Tarrell Alvin McCraney, the screenwriter for Moonlight. The script wasn't as bad as the camerawork, but it wasn't as good as you'd expect from the screenwriter for Moonlight either. Sports jargon and street slang seemed forced in. The acting didn't help, some performers saying almost every single one of their lines like it was the most important thing that's every been said or will ever be said. Bill Duke, who I recently saw playing a very creepy character in Mandy, is playing a not-so-creepy character here. I enjoy seeing him. And I really think Zazie Beetz has that "it" that will make her always worth watching. Others were not so good.

There were lots of references to slavery in this, and while I think the ideas behind this movie were good ones and definitely worth exploring, it really should have been done with more care. It's a poorly-told story with incomplete characters . Poorly written, poorly shot, and poorly edited, this is the film equivalent of a double dribble.

At least I enjoyed the two Richie Havens songs that bookended this movie.

I'm going to pat myself on the back for that basketball reference and then go to bed.

Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles

1975 character study

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Three days in the life of a single mother who makes ends meet by turning tricks.

You've never seen a movie like this. It's bold, daring you to be patient during the minutia. There's no dialogue at all for the first 16 minutes, and there's little interaction between the movie's characters for the duration of its 3 hour and 20+ minute running time. Instead, you just watch Jeanne Dielman going about her day--cooking things, making coffee, cleaning up, running errands, having sex with customers behind a closed door. It's a movie you watch where nothing at all seems to be happening. And then there's a potato issue. And then a catastrophic dropped spoon. And things spiral into an almost invisible out-of-controlness.

Chantal Akerman's the brave filmmaker, and Delphine Seyrig is the actress whose performance helps her make this work. There's this amazing subtlety to what Seyrig does with this character, these barely perceptible nuances that fill you in on exactly what is going on. It's such a great performance. Seriously, just watch a scene where Seyrig is sitting alone at a table for about 9 minutes and tell me there's a better 9 minutes of a woman sitting alone at a table out there.

I wouldn't want to spoil anything. If you watch this, stick with it, appreciate its attention to detail, and know that something will eventually happen. It always does.

I'd love to discuss the feminist message of this film. Somebody help me out?

La Haine

1995 drama

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Following a riot and the shooting of a friend, three guys have a wild 24 hours.

There's a floating shot during a sequence where a D.J. scratches this "Fuck the Police" song that reminded me of something in Soy Cuba, one of those beautiful and impossible shots that I would have assumed was accomplished with the aid of a drone if this wasn't a movie from the mid-90's.

This is a tough movie to watch because you assume from the beginning that things won't end well for at least one and maybe every single one of these characters. And they're not kids, but they're kids, and that makes the unfolding, kind of aimless storyline a tough one. If it wasn't peppered with so many comedic moments, it would have been too heavy, too angry, or too whiny. Instead, it's got a scene with the old guy talking about how there's nothing like a good shit one moment and his friend freezing to death in the next. And it's got these little moments of everyday magic, cows and breakdancing as magical realism. And it's got a guy whose wife has left him dancing on top of a cop car.

For a film following a trio of doomed characters around, this has a vibrancy or energy that really makes it appealing. It balances tones so well. The characterization goes just deep enough, the trio becoming a little more than just caricatures and evolving into three guys you care about and root for even when they're making really dumb or dangerous decisions.

Ashes and Diamonds

1958 romantic war movie

Rating: 18/20

Plot: A pair of Polish resistancers attempt to assassinate some Communist dude when a pretty bartender gets in the way.

A shot of Ewa Krzyzewska, this smoky light encircling her as if she's nothing more than a dream, was enough to make me understand why the assassin decided he needed a change in his life. This film's cinematography made me giddy. I wasn't understanding the story initially and couldn't keep track of the characters' motivations, likely because I'm not smart enough to be watching movies like this, but I was pulled in by the visuals--the glasses of alcohol on fire on a bar, a creaking upside-down crucifix, fireworks punctuating a stunning death sequence.

Alex van Warmerdam Fest: The Waiter

2006 Dutch comedy

Rating: 14/20

Plot: A waiter endures work stress and tries to manage a complicated love life in a story being written by a scriptwriter and his partner.

Even though this won two Gouden Kalverens (according to the poster), this wasn't my favorite von Warmerdam movie I've seen in my little Alex van Warmerdam fest. It did have a pair of laugh-out-loud moments, however. One shows the results of a screenwriter falling asleep at the keyboard. The other involves a purchase the titular waiter makes at a shop, a dialogue-free scene that tests the viewer's patience and cracks him up at the same time. I believe the shopkeeper was an old lady, but she looked a little like Marty Feldman or maybe a Monty Python character. The character is "Oud Winkel Vrouwtje" and she's played by Rene van 't Hof.

The meta aspect is a little cheesy, and the reveal that this poor guy's life is being mercilessly scripted might be revealed a little early. As with all van Warmerdam comedies, this is filled with dark slapstick and quirky characters. It's probably a little too easy to consider the screenwriter as a metaphor for God or the screenplay as an existential crisis, so I won't do it.

Velvet Buzzsaw

2019 arsty thriller

Rating: 9/20

Plot: Works of art start killing people.

You're very aware that there's a script here. This thing is written hard, and that makes nearly everything--the characterization, the suspense, the satire of the art world--feel completely flat. The cool animated credits are the highlight of this one as it's downhill from there, a crazy-but-not-crazy-enough frustratingly incoherent downhill ride. If you've got a movie that has more visual reminders that Starbucks exists than combined laughs and scares, then you've got a horror-comedy (which is what I think this is supposed to be) that has some problems.

The last time Jake Gyllenhaal worked with Dan Gilroy worked out fine although this is the kind of movie that can make you wonder if something like Nightcrawler is really as good as you remember it. Here, Gyllenhaal is trying very hard in what is a borderline offensive performance. Every blink is mannered, and it seems like he's trying to win an Academy Award with his fingers. Worse might be Rene Russo. She's terrible. So is the music. John Malkovich is apparently only doing Netflix projects now. He's better here than he is in Bird Box and seems like he might care a tad bit more. And he gets to show off his basketball game, his second best scene. I won't share the other because it would be a spoiler, but I liked it a lot. So I guess I did like something other than the animated opening credits.

This skewering of the art world is about as obvious and juvenile as it could be. Greed and exploitation gets punished, pompous critics and art-world dilettantes are lambasted, and somebody mistakes a few bags of trash for a work of modern art. It's the sort of thing that's been done better before and will be done better again.

The suspenseful parts weren't quite cheesy or campy enough, and they definitely weren't thrilling or horrifying enough. Things happened, and then I kind of just waited for more things to happen. I didn't care about a single character, and that probably didn't help matters.

Netflix is starting to tick me off again. After Private Lives, Happy as Lazarro, and Roma, I was pretty excited about the possibilities, but they're off to a bad start in 2019.

Time of the Gypsies

1988 turkey movie

Rating: 17/20

Plot: A coming-of-age story about a boy and his turkey.

A long shot introducing this quirky village sucked me in, but the turkey is what sealed the deal. Yes, there is a turkey sex scene in this movie, and there's also a scene where a kid plays and accordion while squawking at the turkey.

There's a mafioso dwarf in this. He blows smoke rings. I'm not sure what his name was.

This Emir Kusturica flick was the last movie I watched before putting together a "Favorites of 1988" list, and on the strength of that turkey performance, it made the cut.

I know a lot of people depend on my reviews, but I just don't feel like writing a lot. I'm trying to catch up here.

And yes, I know nobody depends on my reviews. Nobody's even reading this!

On the Silver Globe

1988 Polish unfinished sci-fi film

Rating: 15/20

Plot: Polish people arrive on a new planet.

Found footage weirdness with all these perfectly coordinated little movements and some wonderful imagery including impossible shots of these people impaled on twenty-foot poles on a beach, bird guys in a graveyard, and an explosive earthquake sequence with puffs of soil and toppling trees keep this worth watching even when it's painfully dull and way too talky. Director Andrzej Zulawski wasn't able to finish this project because the Polish government didn't like how much of the lines were screamed (or something), and the missing bits are filled in with Zulawski's narration while he shows pedestrians walking on Polish sidewalks or people riding down escalators. The narrated bit with the escalator is sadly almost as riveting as a lot of the other scenes in this lengthy movie. The characters really never do shut up, and the diatribes, dialogue, and declarations are really dense. And they really are mostly screamed by these actors and actresses giving these expressionistic performances.

I had a tough time understanding what was going on a lot of the time, likely because I'm not very smart. But when the astronaut started riding around some desert in a car while the score amped up with some guitar music, I was even more confused.

A flamboyant character reminded me of Brian Eno, but I don't think it was him.

Anyway, I'm glad I'm able to see this and glad that I watched it. It was kind of a tough watch though.

Frantic

1988 thriller

Rating: 16/20

Plot: While at a conference in France, a doctor's wife is kidnapped after a luggage mishap. He tries to find her. Frantically!

This unfolds in a very non-frantic manner. It's patient, but it still really moves. With a Morricone score that punctuates moments and a surprising amount of humor, this feels just different enough for a Hitchcockian, neo-noirish thriller. Honestly, I thought this was an Indiana Jones movie, but I still enjoy Harrison Ford when he's not my favorite archaeologist or Han Solo. He's a little grouchy anyway and likely more fun the grouchier he is. And here, he's super grouchy because his wife is gone, he has to run around like Bruce Willis without shoes for parts of the movie, and he can't figure out that a Garfield phone is a phone. He also shows off his dance moves when he tries to keep up with Emmanuelle Seigner gyrating in that red dress of hers.

Silent Saturday: Earth

1930 Soviet propaganda piece

Rating: 16/20

Plot: Farmers wrestle with the idea of collective farming.

Aleksandr Dovzhenko is more interested in allowing his visuals to tell his story. And that's likely why you get intertitles that detail dialogue like "You dyin', Simon?", "Well, goodbye, I'm dyin'," and "He liked pears."

That was all post-lengthy pear montage. This movie also has a pretty stunning bread-making montage, and I almost had to turn the movie off during that dizzying sequence because of my gluten intolerance. I enjoyed both of those food-related moments, and I also liked a death dance and some subversive religious imagery. But nothing can compare to the arrival of a tractor where even the horses are jazzed and an order to "Let 'er fly!" which preceded a shot of some guys urinating on the new piece of machinery. I probably only watch Russian movies to impress a certain Russian friend of mine, but I'm always going to be all-in if there's a scene where people urinate on farm equipment.

Fireworks

1997 action love story

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Following a tragedy on the job, a policeman leaves the force to take care of his dying wife.

Hooked from the colorful opening credits, I had some trouble getting into the rhythm of the narrative. Once the disjointed storytelling settled in (or settled down) and this became a love story, I was absorbed. The beautiful colors were still there in these well-constructed shots. A lot of that has to do with the use of a lot of bizarre artwork, apparently paintings made by writer, director, and star Takeshi Kitano. I don't know if all the artwork is his, but there were a few pieces I liked, including a snow/light/suicide one. His background as a painter likely contributes to his ability to have this unique visual flair with Fireworks. Or Hana-Bi. Whatever I'm supposed to call this. That sounds like where Puff the Magic Dragon is from.

This isn't all visual flair and disjointed narrative with the occasional splashes of bloody violence. Instead, this has a pair of powerful stories about a friendship and a loving marriage. The latter unfolds almost entirely without dialogue, and it's just beautiful. When this movie morphs into a road trip movie, watching the couple work on puzzles or have these sightseeing mishaps is so sweet. The friendship is almost as sweet. I loved Kitano's patience with a scene where Ren Osugi opened a gift, and a scene with a beret almost brought on the tears. A shot of a wheelchair on a beach was also powerful.

Tristana

1970 Bunuel film

Rating: 18/20

Plot: A young woman is taken in by Don Lope following the death of her mother. Don Lope treats her as a father while falling in love with her. That causes some issues later.

This is a masterful glimpse at the complex lives of complex characters and what happens when their lives collide. Don Lope, a walking contradiction, wants to "defend the weak" while not doing much at all to defend anybody. I can't think of another character I've seen where our perception of him is so vastly different from the way he seems to see himself. The great Fernando Rey plays him perfectly. Catherine Deneuve is the titular character, one who starts the film with all this innocence but ends the film with something else. A lot of this movie is about choices or free will, and Deneuve's character is a feminist representation of that as she talks about choosing favorite pillars or chick peas. Or pinto beans.
I don't know my legumes. I write about movies all time and have had this stupid blog for over ten years and don't know a damn thing about movies. You expect me to know about legumes?

I'm in a bad mood now. I didn't appreciate your attitude.

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie

1976 crime movie

Rating: 16/20

Plot: A club owner tries to pay up some gambling debts.

It's tough for me to watch any movie with Ben Gazzara without imaging that scene in Lebowski where Jackie Treehorn doodles an enormous erection.

I always wonder if I'm appreciating a John Cassavetes movie as much as I'm supposed to. The grit fits with these characters whose stomping grounds seem like they could only exist in 1970's American movies. And I like this as a character study of Gazzara's character.

My favorite bits were the ones in the club, Crazy Horse West, emceed by Mr. Sophistication played by Meade Roberts.

I watched the longer version of this because that's what was available to me. A reputable source told me that the shorter edit is actually better. Is that true?

Alex van Warmerdam Fest: The Last Days of Emma Blank

2009 dark comedy

Rating: 15/20

Plot: A woman's family waits for her to die so they can stop acting like her servants or, in one case, a dog.

One character, the one played by director Alex van Warmerdam, does spend the majority of this movie acting like a dog. He has to defecate outside and at one point humps the titular character. And it's times like this where I type words here and think, "What the hell am I doing with my life?"

This is the closest van Warmerdam movie I've seen to the original one I saw--Borgman. It feels allegorical like that one did, and it has a really cool house. Apparently, the house was specially built for this film because the script had specific references to a specific house in van Warmerdam's mind.

Lots of stand-out moments here, but my favorite is a simple one that features an almost magical skirt flip.

Stars and Bars

1988 comedy

Rating: 10/20

Plot: An art expert travels to the South to purchase a Renoir from some country folk.

Here's a movie for anybody who wants to see Daniel Day-Lewis not being very good. It's also for anybody who wants to see Daniel Day-Lewis a little naked. I've yet to see Lincoln, but I assume there's not a Lincoln nude scene in that. If there is, let me know so that I can start watching that immediately.

Day-Lewis--actually, he's sans hyphen in the credits for this one, so I guess he's Day Lewis--plays the straight man in what is pretty much a straight comedy. This isn't the shoulda-been cult classic I imagined it might be. The movie also has Steven Wright, Harry Dean Stanton, Spalding Gray, Rockets Redglare, Laurie Metcalf, and Joan Cusack, and a few of those are among my favorite people. So I thought this might be something. It has it's moments, and Day Lewis does have some comedic chops in this fish-out-of-water role, but this isn't the part for him and this isn't the type of movie that's going to develop a cult following. Despite some black slapstick comedy and this surreal redneck wonderland backdrop, the tone issues really get in the way.

It probably doesn't help that it starts with a Sting song. "Shut your ass, English shitbird!"

Brain Damage

1988 horror comedy

Rating: 12/20

Plot: A guy's life is ruined by a creature that grows out of him, offering him euphoric feelings in exchange for human blood.

"He needs the brains, but I need his juice."

This fun little horror-comedy from the damaged brain of the guy responsible for Frank Henenlotter doubles as a too-obvious metaphor for drug addiction. The too-obvious part is probably part of the gag.

Lots works here. The effects for this little creature work, and a lot of the humor does too. That little guy's first appearance--a surprise appearance in a mirror with a goofy "Hi!"--makes me smile just thinking about it. That's after an endless scene where the protagonist bleeds, sees an eye, and has his bedroom flooded. A scene with some meatballs and one where our beleaguered hero enjoys the colors at a junkyard are also fun. There are two music moments worth noting--a live performance by the Swimming Pool Cues in a club and "Alymer's Tune," a lovely little number sung by Alymer from a sink.

The weirdness definitely isn't paced very well. Some sequences go on and on, and there are some odd scenes that just don't seem to fit all that well. That's right, naked muscle guy in the shower--I'm looking at you. And yeah, I realize how what I just typed can be taken out of context. The acting is not very good. Rick Hearst gives a Bruce Campbell-esque performance as the lead. Theo Barnes is really terrible, bringing all these wacky histrionics. Barnes also gets a great death scene, histrionically wacky.

There is a Basket Case allusion here. It's fun.

The Last of England

1987 avant-silliness

Rating: 9/20

Plot: Not really much of one.

It's a good thing I took notes on this movie because it's almost instantly forgettable. Here are my notes:

"dry humping a painting as a prelude to the apocalypse--a veteran move"
"pan pipe as the world falls apart"
"shirtless guy with ballerina skirt and horns dancing around a fire"

Those were my notes.

I didn't enjoy this movie, and I don't think I enjoy Derek Jarman.

The Band Wagon

1953 musical

Rating: 14/20

Plot: An aging song 'n' dance man joins a pretentious stage production and falls for a dame.

Vicente Minnelli might not be for me. As a cinephile who loves color almost more than he loves anything else, it seems odd to say that Minnelli isn't for me. I enjoyed the colors in this one, too. Some shots dazzle with striking colors. A song-and-dance number in Central Park, the weird and noirish "Girl Hunt" sequence (especially a great shot of Astaire on a fire escape), the hyperactive colors at the arcade where Astaire gets a shoeshine, hotel wallpaper and furniture. There are lots of colors, and as a guy who likes colors, that alone makes this worth watching.

Actually, it's worth watching because of that shoeshine. This is a comedy that I can't imagine would make too many people laugh, but I lost it during this shoeshine sequence. Astaire starts singing about how wonderful shoeshines are, probably with the lyric "I like a good shoeshine because a good shoeshine is fine!" in there somewhere, and he and the shoeshiner started dancing flamboyantly and whipping towels around and circling the shoeshine chair while people watched. I started imagining that happening in real life and then couldn't stop laughing for over twenty minutes.

Fred Astaire seems completely unnatural in this when he's doing anything other than dancing. All of the male performers give pretty hammy performances actually. Cordona has a great Price-esque voice, more deliberately hamming it up because that's what his character is supposed to be, but with Astaire and that other guy, it's just a wackiness that makes them seem like the type of people who would be overly excited about getting a shoeshine. I did like both women in this. Cyd Charisse showed more versatility than even Astaire by dancing ballet, soft-shoeing in the park, and getting downright jazzy during that "Girl Hunt" bit. And I fell in love with these striking green gloves that she wore in one scene. And when she removes a coat and reveals this glimmering red dress, one that showed off a whole bunch of her lovely legs, in the "Girl Hunt" club? My, oh, my. I think I became a man at that stage.