Friday, August 06, 2021

No One Likes a Show-off. Unless What They're Showing Off is Dope as Fuck.

My first favorite movie was Batman (1989, Tim Burton). And the one thing as a kid I could never understand was what those photos VICKI VALE took were all about. They were apparently graphic and disturbing. They were in black and white. And they were called Corto Maltese. Many years later one of the first things I used a search engine for when that technology became available was finally answering that question that had puzzled me for so long.

 


Other than Quentin Tarantino, who else has the luxury of a major studio handing over a big budget and the reigns to an R-rated, violent, profanity-laden, colorful, fun, genre pic with an eclectic soundtrack of their choosing and Margot Robbie? …The Suicide Squad (2021, James Gunn) is the most fun a movie could be. And in the era which began sometime in the ‘10s where Marvel took over the world and superhero movies dominated the market, The Suicide Squad is the first movie to exist in that genre yet still manage to be considered serious art.

     James Gunn’s coolest gift is the Gen X sensibility he’s used to craft The Suicide Squad with. Yes I’m talking about the penultimate group shot of the team entering Corto Maltese in the rain, in slow-motion, to “Hey” by the Pixies with the refrain of Black Francis’ wistful “chained” echoing (and echoed by Kim Deal) the subtext of the shot, but so much more. The scene in the briefing when RATCATCHER 2 asks “what is that?” and WALLER tells her “that is an overhead projector” is the key to the true nature of the movie. “Do you ever use it anymore?” “No, not really.” “So why don’t you just throw it away?” Whether we call it grunge, alternative, or indie; whether we’re talking about the music, the movies, or the fashion of Generation X, what The Suicide Squad essentially conveys is the mix of beautiful drabness and witty sarcasm found in the otherwise discarded forms (and people). And being funny as shit.

     But the thing Gunn does best is writing for an ensemble of misfits to make them all individually compelling while simultaneously building a story that uses each of them to their fullest potential in terms of both plot and character development. And being funny as shit. 

     My favorite set piece in The Suicide Squad is the La Gatita Amable. What the K. Flay song does from its opening chords while filmed in slow-motion PEACEMAKER bumps into Lloyd Kaufman, the trance-like bizarre otherworldly choreography of the dancers on stage, then into drinks at the table is bliss; along with the POLKA DOT MAN punchline “…except for the thousands of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year,” which was my biggest laugh. (Yeah it was awkward in a packed theater being the only person to laugh at that joke.) But wait there’s more: Ratcather 2 and Peacmaker’s moves on the floor; Polka Dot Man’s first sign of having fun in one of the most disturbingly awesome instances of face-replacement cgi since Chris Cunningham’s Aphex Twin videos in the ‘90s is the happiest moment in the movie, only to cut to KING SHARK outside in the most painful moment of the movie.

     The best thing about the plot is that it’s about Jotunheim and it knows it. And once the team gets there that whole final section is its own movie. In closing, The Suicide Squad is the funniest, most violent, coolest fucking movie I’ve ever seen. And I wish I'd said more about the characters: Ratcatcher 2 (the sleepy, mumbling millennial), HQ (her time in this movie does more for that character than both the other movies combined), BLOODSPORT (best costume, arsenal), King Shark (learning to make friends on his own...).

     And this other Gen X thing I think is really funny is just a guess, but like even though The Suicide Squad occurs in a contemporary setting (‘20s), it doesn’t really ever show anyone using smartphones. Except there is one scene where a character is texting and, well, we see what happens to him. But also there’s the bit about Bloodsport’s DAUGHTER wanting a watch to watch tv on, which, without making any judgements about technology or anything is clearly hilarious. Anyways.

 

8/5/2021 AMC Madison Yards 8

Atlanta, GA

DCP 

Dancer in the Dark



Annette (2021, Leos Carax) is subdued, elliptical, and elegiac. Like Holy Motors (2012, Carax), its perspective is from that of the artist. And like the neon green luminous sign from Holy Motors, the color green is the primary basis of the color scheme in Annette. What does it represent? If we think about it, HENRY MCHENRY wears a lot of green early in the film. And ANNETTE has green eyes.

     And again like Holy Motors, this is a movie that I probably shouldn’t attempt to evaluate the same day I saw it. But I will say I love Annette. It seems to deal with existential dread, self-doubt, hate, angst, creative turmoil, destruction, and death. Has there ever been an arthouse musical this dark? Oh yeah, once. But labeling Annette dark, or depressing is lazily dismissive. Like many great works of cinematic art, I’m still reflecting on what I saw in Annette

     And aside from other big questions like the relationship between artist and self, artist and audience, desire and love, or motivation, instead how about first of all just appreciating that there’s a movie that can still achieve a pure form of cinematic artistry and be this challenging. And a lead character of such calculatedly toxic masculinity with such a lack of redeeming qualities? This is different. Not all movies have to have a message, and not all messages are easily accessible, but there’s something here and already it’s enough to appreciate.

     But okay, just from the point of view of the artifice and stagey devices, yes the voyage at sea and the little girl Annette are as imaginative in aim as anything out of Holy Motors and sometimes I worry about more and more how hard it can be to find this kind of stuff.

 

8/6/2021 Landmark Midtown Art Cinema

Atlanta, GA

DCP

Monday, August 02, 2021

This verdigris will overcome all you hold dear

My whole life I can only think of a few production companies I’ve heard others say they like: Studio Ghibli, Pixar, Marvel, and A24. I’d always accepted it without giving much thought to what this implies, until recently—until A24. And when I hear people I know say they like A24, one of the first things that makes me apprehensive is the underlying assumption that what they’re actually talking about is probably The Witch (2015, Robert Eggers), Green Room (2015, Jeremy Saulnier), It Comes at Night (2017, Trey Edward Shults), Hereditary (2018, Ari Aster), The Lighthouse (2019, Eggers), and Midsommar (2019, Aster).

     I guess what I’m saying is I’m skeptical about what exactly these people are basing their brand loyalty on. Or that among the many films A24 has released, are people feigning brand recognition just to sound cool? 

 


The trailer that played last in the theater I was in was for A24’s upcoming Lamb (2021, Valdimar Jóhannsson). It’s the stupidest trailer I’ve ever seen. But it might also be sheer genius in the way it calculates what its audience wants from the brand while it’s still hot. In an attempt to come up with a summary of where A24 is at: slow-burn, weird, dark, pagan, rural, Anglo-Saxon, violent, psychological horror. 

     The Green Knight (2021, David Lowery) is a pseudo arthouse GoT pandering medieval quest legend that feels compromised as if it were like ruined by feedback from test audiences or studio execs or both or something. I’m sure its several instances of fragmented editing and narrative shifts are supposed to be unsettling, and hint at witchcraft or a stylized subjectivity giving a glimpse into the hero’s plight, but is it? Does it ever add up? Is it worth it? 

     But my biggest complaints about The Green Knight are (1.) Why does the Green Knight have to look like the “Winter is coming” villain? (2.) Why do they have the chaos reigns fox in there? (3.) The ending device. Although the sound design is dope.

 

7/31/2021 AMC Phipps Plaza 14

Atlanta, GA

DCP

DISCOVERING DRAMATIC DEVICES no. 2

The first time I saw The Last Temptation of Christ (1988, Martin Scorsese) I completely freaked over how crazy its ending was. I don’t even know if you’d call it a twist. But I didn’t see it coming. And dare I say it remains something no other art form can accomplish; that elusive quality theatre, books, or paintings can’t do. Something only cinema can do. 

     It’s the titular moment CHRIST is crucified and he gives into the temptation of SATAN: he marries and raises a family… this whole life. And then all of the sudden the movie cuts back to him back on the cross and we realize none of it happened, it was all in his mind. Was it Satan showing him the vision? Was it Christ imagining it? Was it the movie speculating it? Can we ever know? Does it matter? But so yeah as a dramatic device it’s pretty neat.

     In Mommy (2014, Xavier Dolan) I fell for it again. There’s this impossibly rambunctious problem child whose single mother fights to raise him the whole movie without any signs of a peaceful life between them. It’s one hell of an emotionally hardcore experience. And the whole movie is framed 1:1, which is maybe the narrowest vertical aspect ratio of all time, right? Anyway, at the end there’s a montage where the kid grows up, graduates high school, everyone’s happy and everything all to “Wonderwall” by Oasis, and during this montage the screen broadens open to like a 1:85 widescreen frame. But then Mommy cuts back to the present, music stops, back to 1:1 frame, and we realize it was all in her head just like The Last Temptation of Christ. Pretty powerful, effective.

     At the end of The Green Knight (2021, David Lowery) at the moment the hero finally arrives at the object of his journey, to receive a blow from the sword of the GREEN KNIGHT, there’s some dialogue and then he’s back home safe. Then there’s a Last Temptation of Christ montage. But, no. It’s cool and stuff, but it doesn’t work. It doesn’t save a movie that was already hanging by a thread of coherence. And moreover it feels like another desperate attempt to borrow something too recognizable from another movie. What’s the point of it? Is he hero or coward? I can do with a movie that refuses its audience a clear resolution, but usually all that led to that moment makes it worthwhile. Not this time. And I don’t think that’s what they were going for. And the post title sequence only pours salt in the wound. 

Sunday, August 01, 2021

Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando were in the same movie together

Signs (2002, M. Night Shyamalan) was enough for me. I’d had it with Shyamalan. At the time I concluded that it was merely a Twilight Zone plot that could’ve been told in 20 minutes so why would I be expected to sit through an entire movie for? The Village (2004) and Lady in the Water (2006) were proof beyond a reasonable doubt. But then there was Split (2016), which led me to give the dude another chance. I caught up on all I’d missed: Unbreakable (2000) was my own fault for not having watched sooner, and probably Shyamalan’s best; and others I don’t feel worth mentioning. Still nothing.

      But then yet again I found myself compelled to return to that style of his one day when I gave Servant on Apple TV+ a shot in 2021. Maybe it was the casting, the atmosphere, the premise, the domestic gothic foundation, or some wonderful blend of it all, but I reinvested my esteem in the Shyamalan style. I learned that what once initially provided my basis for faulting his movies—over-stretched Twilight Zone plots—is now the very thing I enjoy most about them. Because after all, who says that has to be a bad thing? And obviously in addition to the Twilight Zone riffs, there’s his trademark dysfunctional wounded families, children featured in main roles, traumatic backstories, twist endings, and mix of sci-fi and horror. 

     The canon should be The Sixth Sense (1999), UnbreakableSignsThe VillageLady in the WaterThe Happening (2008), and Old (2021).

 


As much as I would love Old were it simply a horror movie about a group of seemingly healthy, young, fit tourists plagued by a mysterious onset of hyper-advanced aging they’re powerless against, Old is more than that. 

     Along with The Happening and Servant, beyond their cool Twilight Zone vibe, Old has that ominous wtf tension built in. And considering how seldom a movie can be this disturbing, dark, and weird while still being PG-13 only speaks to its effectiveness of tone. What’s brilliant about Old is that it takes this group of people who seem harmless, or normal, maybe even good, and by subjecting them to be crushed with their own inescapable mortalities by aging years in minutes, succeeds in revealing hidden truths about themselves. Or it could be said that the narrative pits what we know or think about each other based on knowing someone for a short time vs. a lifetime. It’s that contrast that’s intriguing. 

 

07/24/2021 AMC North Dekalb Mall 16

Decatur, GA

DCP