2022 Year End List of Favorite Movies Seen in Theater

                

1.  Blonde (2022, Andrew Dominik)

2.  Decision to Leave (2022, Park Chan-wook)

3.  Halloween Ends (2022, David Gordon Green)

4.  Lux Æterna (2019, Gaspar Noé)

5.  We’re All Going to the World’s Fair (2021, Jane Schoenbrun)

6.  Vortex (2021, Gaspar Noé)

7.  Memoria (2021, Apichatpong Weerasethakul)

8.  Smile (2022, Parker Finn)

9.  Bullet Train (2022, David Leitch)

10. Crimes of the Future (2022, David Cronenberg)

Chainletter Horror

People who make movies know that audiences respond well to devices that help structure the narrative. One very common example is the ticking clock. The protagonist has x amount of time to accomplish y or else z. It helps to clearly define the stakes for the audience. My favorite horror movie, The Ring (2002, Gore Verbinski), is a great example of this. You watch a video then get a phonecall and 7 days later you die. We all know that those 7 days will elapse in the time it takes to get to the end of the movie.
     But The Ring adds something else. If you show the video to someone else, you’re off the hook. So simple. Such an effective genre contraption. It’s fun to weigh the morality behind would you rather die, or live but someone else has to die in your place. But it only works in movies when it’s established through a curse. It’s the whole reason It Follows (2014, David Robert Mitchell) works.

Smile (2022, Parker Finn) is a psychological chainletter horror movie about a doctor who treats patients with mental illness. And the whole reason I love this movie is because it cohesively builds its world entirely around ROSE being labeled crazy yet knowing she's not.    

     You see the smile and then you die. Paramount put this movie out. And it had a big ad campaign. When I first saw the teasers in theaters I thought it looked so stupid. But sometimes I get this compulsion to try something I told myself there’s no way I would like. Also I don’t judge a movie by its ads. For example, there’s no way I’m going to watch Amsterdam (2022, David O. Russell), despite its trailers with its amazing cast and the propulsion it derives from a catchy song. “Helplessly Hoping” from 1969 by Crosby, Stills, and Nash (I looked it up). I don’t like David O. Russell’s work though.
     What’s great about Smile is that the victims we hear about from the smile curse don’t have any link to mental illness. It’s Rose. Rose has it in her family. Rose has based her career on it. And the inciting incident sets Rose up in a position where now everyone wonders if she could be crazy. Without even being a horror movie, that’s a pretty great dramatic premise. And what makes this angle even more effective for me is that even though the cultural climate is being progressively shaped to be more inclusive and protective, there will always be those considered “other.”
     The “other” is scary. It’s the people society has deemed unfit. Like a witchhunt. I root for these protagonists above all. The one scene that won me over has to be at the point Rose’s driven to the edge and everyone is against her and we see her scarfing a cheeseburger in her car all by herself. (Okay, in the movie they don’t say it’s a cheeseburger. It could be a veggie burger or a beyond burger or whatever. I’m taking liberties here.) But it’s the way she goes at it: with complete abandon. So this is just me I’m guessing but I took it as her tired of being stifled by conformity and taking a break to do what she wants for a change. 
 
Mental illness is no joke. I get that. But I love the performance this actress (Sosie Bacon) gives as Rose. There was a moment where I could have sworn I saw her eye twitch that I thought was brilliant. I can’t recall ever having seen a movie where the main character isn’t just mistaken for being crazy in a worst paranoid fear actually come true way, but actually transforming into someone who is. Or is she? I don’t want to spoil it. Anyway, the thing about chainletter horror is how to end it. And horror is one of the genres endings matter more than most. And again not to give anything away, but I love the way Smile ends.
 
9/27/2022 AMC Phipps Plaza 14
Atlanta, GA
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NC-17 and so harrowing you'll need a stomach pump but wow is it pretty

Blonde (2022, Andrew Dominik) is an expressionistic Hollywood Melodrama that luridly indulges in showing the ugliest nightmares of abuse and trauma as experienced by the most beautiful dream star persona the screen has ever known. And visually its style looks like it could be from the 1950s, except for the fact that it’s also one of the few movies nowadays that doesn’t look exactly like every other movie.

     Blonde doesn’t hold back. Because it’s set in the ‘50s, its central protagonist has the benefit of being from an era before the internet, social media, and camera phones had come along and began to scrutinize, capture, and transmit every aspect of the lives of high-profile public figures. The star persona in this movie remains a legend—a legend that’s preserved because the public was never able to know the real person. And like the best forms of expressionist art, Blonde isn’t about reality. It's about catering to our darkest desires; not everyone, but those of us who think we’re sublimating a shameful tabloid curiosity through respectable art. 

     Because it’s almost as if the more difficult the scenes to watch were, the more compelling and engrossing they were. It’s easy to empathize with Norma. The fictionalized Norma—a star persona of a star persona—wasn’t wanted by anyone yet wanted by all. She’s not so much relatable as a person as she is as a martyr. Because where does all her beauty, fame, talent, and the magnitude of her as a star get her? Is she any better off? How much of what makes her life so miserable is everyone else’s fault? The men? The Industry? Her own? Or is this all some truth about just the way things are? 

     There’s a distancing effect legends have. What’s unbearably horrific to process in everyday life can be shocking and somehow transformatively cathartic tragedy through legend. The disavowal from watching the mental illness, abortions, drug/child/spousal/employer/sexual abuse, and delirium may come from our certainty that ultimately none of it can tarnish her star persona. 

 

As for the look of Blonde, it embodies a style I’ve long strived to articulate. First, there’s an idea I have of what I think of as looking like an early 90s music video. And that begins with high contrast shadows, sculpted light, like 30s-40s Hollywood glam—like Fincher’s “Vogue” video. But there are other examples of harder light too. (I hate when people use German Expressionism as a term to describe high contrast black and white. Just because it’s high key and you’ve seen Caligari doesn’t mean you’re making any sense.) And I also had some kind of connection I thought existed between that Madonna backstage documentary Truth or Dare even into her whole Erotica phase and what I’d wanted to see: a movie that combines that 90s faux Old Hollywood glam look with the candid backstage erratic staginess of a photo shoot in progress. What other movie has done that?

     Some of Todd Haynes work has some of these qualities. Superstar has the look; Velvet Goldmine has the feel and staging; I’m Not There almost does it. Except Blonde is still the only movie I can think of that looks like a series of in flux high-gloss gorgeous fashion photography vignettes (it even makes a puking scene seen from inside the toilet look pretty). And it’s for this reason on which I hang my claim that it doesn’t look like all the other movies. I can’t get enough 4x3. And another of its expressionistic qualities is that Blonde shifts between aspect rations and color/black-white based on feeling or mood, instead of adhering to some formal narrative distinction. I forgot about Andrew Dominik though. He’s had some serious style in his other films. Especially Killing Them Softly (2012). That hit with the Brad Pitt character doing that drive by.

 

The ending of Blonde left me at a loss. But it’s because the way I read it in the novel devastated me to tears. It’s the same ending. But in the movie it felt hokey, a little too Twin Peaks, you know? Like Nick Cave was aping the Badalamenti moody spiritual quasi new-age synths along with some questionable only Lynch can get away with type photoshop (or just cheap cg) effects. So in the book as I recall (it’s been a long time) Norma dies and there’s this amazing kind of oh it’s finally over for her she doesn’t have to be in agonizingly excruciating pain moment and waiting for her more than anything she always wanted to see in heaven is her dad and it’s still just that snapshot and it’s so harsh, so pathetic that she never got the real thing but it means just as much to her. 

     Blonde is a work of art. The form it represents is artifice as a means to attain something real that’s really artifice that came from something real… and on and on…

 

9/23/2022 Midtown Art Cinema

Atlanta, GA

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Breakfast Club Breakfast Club Breakfast Club

Is there a categorization for the historical chronology of horror movies? My own taste starts with what I consider the modern era: Halloween (1978, John Carpenter) and Dawn of the Dead (1978, George A. Romero) to Evil Dead II (1987, Sam Raimi) and Opera (1987, Dario Argento). I’m very picky. I don’t like a lot of horror, but the ones I do I’m emphatic about. My latest joy is discovering The Return of the Living Dead (1985, Dan O’Bannon).
     The next phase begins with Scream (1996, Wes Craven). So I guess I’d call this the postmodern era. Here’s where I get lazy due to indifference. Because I only find the truly great works in that 1978-1987 period. There are a few exceptions. Horror never really goes away. But for the purpose of this piece I’m only mentioning these movies because of something most of them have in common: teens partying.

 

Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022, Halina Reijn) is a teen¹ psychological chamber drama that’s cleverly structured, and wonderfully portrays each individual in its ensemble. I don’t really like these characters. I really like these characters.
     Yeah maybe my biggest compliment about Bodies Bodies Bodies is that I can’t recall being so polarized by a group of characters anywhere else. They’re a little obnoxious, but they’re also relatable and I even empathize with their humanity—which makes them authentically compelling. And if what first lured me into horror movies was the diversionary tactic of being lulled into a false sense of security amid a bunch of teens indulging in immoral acts in pursuit of fun, Bodies Bodies Bodies kind of does the same thing only reverses one thing: the horror is in the service of the drama at its center.
     But I’m also relieved that the pacing worked for me because normally I hate movies that all take place in one location. I mean unless it’s the Overlook Hotel we’re talking about, it doesn’t take long for my attention to wander wondering if it was just a way to skimp on the budget. Another upside here is that I know the narrative works when I don’t fret over where the story is going or how it’s going to end (or worse, when it’s going to end). And the way this movie was handled in terms of plotting, right up to its conclusion was just a delight.
 
¹the characters aren't teens
 
8/10/2022 Regal Atlantic Station
Atlanta, GA
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&$#@%!

In this piece I will argue to prove my thesis that there is no system by which a movie can be judged as good or bad. Because if one considers a movie is made from: plot, character, dialogue, genre, and setting; and, say the movie fails in four of these five categories, as long as it succeeds in one, it could be considered a fine achievement.
     Furthermore, who is to say whether a movie succeeds or fails in any or all of these five categories? Or, if you tell me any one factor by which you would deem a movie crap (a failure), I could cite an example of another movie that I would call a success despite said factor.

 

Bullet Train (2022, David Leitch) is an action movie that’s fun and entertaining. But that isn’t to say it it’s not brilliant. Because most action movies I’ve seen in the theater haven’t absorbed my attention while continuously being entertained. So of the five categories I mentioned, the one in which Bullet Train proves itself is genre.
     But what is it that makes a great action movie? That’s a matter of opinion again no doubt. But for me, in the case of Bullet Train, it’s style. And starting with its look, think something like Japan as a concept. There’s one car on the train in particular where the lighting fixtures cast it in saturated hues of cool blues, purple, and pink, for example. Think neon. Think Tokyo. Think Michael Bay lighting that nightclub in The Island (2005).
     And beyond the look, there’s also a sensibility. What lured me into watching anime is trying to find a particular technique I’d stumbled upon where non-sequitur off-model incongruous animation styles depict brief cutaway breaks with the narrative for a heightened comedic effect. Now, I’m not saying that happens in Bullet Train, but it reminds me of the feel I got watching all of these relentless interludes of montagecore (set to rock) flashbacks.
     Also, I’m going to refrain from listing any examples of what other kinds of action movies Bullet Train reminds me of, because that’s tacky. But you know the ones I’m talking about: the ensemble cast of comedically colorful criminals that are set up as gravitating around one unifying narrative objective. And that’s my final take on the influence of manga or anime, the way the world of Bullet Train has its own charm. The characters inhabiting this world are solely in service of style. They’re not nasty. They’re cool, entertaining, fun.
     So in a more nuanced subjective way than I’m used to trying to express, something about Brad Pitt’s character, LADYBUG, clicked with me. I love Brad Pitt. He’s got that movie star quality where even in a movie like Bullet Train, when he’s casually, relaxed, even when the stakes of the narrative are ramped up adrenaline perilous extreme, that gives a fun contrast. I love Ladybug’s wardrobe. The dude is a step above Lebowski level loungewear. There’s a line LEMON (Brian Tyree Henry) says something about Ladybug like “you look like every homeless white guy I ever seen.” Yep. And because of him, I relaxed. 
     And while I was relaxed, I was entertained, and didn’t sweat the story, but still kept gradually being pulled in just a little more and wanting to see where this all was going. But in the best way. I felt like nothing was forced. I don’t care why all these people are on this train, because I like finding out as you go.
 
8/02/2022 AMC Madison Yards 8
Atlanta, GA
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Fire

Fire (2022, Claire Denis) depicts an idyllic paradise vacation shared by a couple, captured in Denis’ inimitable style: sensuously textured intimacy with shapes of bodies in contact verging on abstract expressionism. But upon returning to Paris, what ensues is a moody melodrama set to an ominous Tindersticks score.
     The narrative’s construction could be described as opening with a quaint bubble where a comfortable romance is contained within; then from that point is followed by an unvarnished, heavy, fearsome outer space that offers little to no comfort for anyone—but isn’t this more satisfying anyway? Denis’ raw emotional claustrophobic confrontation with the formidable performances of 2 of her most captivating performers—Juliette Binoche and Vincent Lindon—is blanketed with her warmth and tenderness in ways not found in Cassavetes or Bergman. But this isn’t to say it isn’t painful.
     Claire Denis has always been a filmmaker who paints pain beautifully. Fire doesn’t moralize the position of either of its central characters. And the complications are the subject of the film, not any type of resolutions. So, it’s here that again the French prove how to provide that which Hollywood forgot how to.
 
7/22/2022 Regal Tara
Atlanta, GA
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Gordy's Home

SOCRATES: Should movies be about something?
ANONYMOUS: Sirk said he cannot make movies about something, only with something—flowers, reflective surfaces.
SOCRATES: But aren’t his movies said to be about systemic hypocrisy, unrequited love, and sexual frustration?
ANONYMOUS: How could they not be?
SOCRATES: Then movies shouldn’t be made to disseminate a message, but should say something, does that sound right?

Nope (2022, Jordan Peele) is a horror movie that’s incidentally adorned with a ufo invasion façade. It’s also a virtuoso display of inspired storytelling. 
     I can’t remember the last time I watched a horror movie that felt this delightfully psychologically-macabre. Nope strikes the perfect balance of unsettling and absorbing that makes for the most accomplished of classic horror. Isn’t that the hardest to earn? Aside from terrifying the audience or disturbing devices, when was the last time the story itself felt original?
     Jordan Peele’s made some movies that feel like they have a message. Nope hits hard because it says something without saying it. I don’t know that everything adds up to some specific statement, but what I gathered is: there’s a delicate balance between life forms and entertainment. Nevertheless, the ufo could symbolize people spending too much time on junk media (TV, apps, social media?) that suck them out of real life. And maybe there’s a connection between the way some animals you think are tame can sometimes unexpectedly attack when you get too close.

     At the moment when Alfred E. Neuman is depicted as Gordy I was instantly transfixed by the kind of joy of story that's been all to elusive lately. Specifically, the backstory of Gordy’s Home and the listing of all those cast members from the ’95 season of SNL was scarier because of its authenticity. And Nope isn’t just a great horror movie, it also transcends box office concessions by substantially proving its artistic merit. Hoyte van Hoytema’s diffuse palette is as soothing as can be, with night exteriors particularly lit so delicately as to convincingly evoke the feel of being so far removed from city limits. (Also the Edge car tracking OJ on horseback is Muybridge to the future.) And Ruth De Jong with the Haywood house, and rustic amusement community gives the time spent in Agua Dulce a sense of really going somewhere else for 2 hours.
     The whole time watching Nope I kept thinking there is no way they can fuck this up. And by the end, although I’m not taken with the whole Christo and Jeanne-Claude thing, I accept it. Nope isn’t about ufos. By the way how cool is Michael Wincott? I’ve recently brought his name up several times in conversation, mostly because I’m such a huge fan of Strange Days (1995, Kathryn Bigelow); I watch it every New Year’s Eve. I just wondered what happened to him and how cool that moment in 1995 the dude’s in The Crow, Strange Days, and Dead Man.

 

7/21/2022 AMC Madison Yards 8

Atlanta, GA

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Very Metal

Thor: Love and Thunder (2022, Taika Waititi) is the best comedy of the year. And as a follow-up to Thor: Ragnarok (2017, Waititi) it doesn’t disappoint. Like its predecessor, it deserves to be seen in a movie theater.

Marvel sucks. It’s usually because the movies (and series) draw out a banal origin story (interchangeable with new premise) that relies too much on mediocre drama, peppered with low-grade attempts at sarcastic wit, and overly indulges in choreographed fights and vfx spectacles that look identical—unless they’re done by James Gunn or Taika Waititi.

     When the MCU launched I avoided that garbage. Until that is Thor: Ragnarok opened on the biggest IMAX screen in Texas and I went in on a whim. What sets Taika Waititi’s Thor films apart is that he reverses the ratio of mediocre drama to comedy the rest of the MCU suffers from. And he actually knows funny. (It’s similar with James Gunn, but Gunn gives a little more emphasis to genre delights; although, he’s also an expert with comedy.) And rounding out Waititi’s own style that sets itself apart from the bland uniformity of the rest of the MCU output is his every primary color of the rainbow art direction.

     To limit my comments about the content of Thor: Love and Thunder, I’ll quickly mention I was unsure if it was going to fall short of the expectations some might have had in comparison to Thor: Ragnarok, until I got to the Golden Temple set piece. Everything I love about the visual imagination and creativity in execution, along with the culmination of comedy and action comes together in the Golden Temple.

     In closing, although I really didn’t find a way to adequately work this in, I stan NEBULA. She’s easily my biggest draw to the MCU. She’s cold, and less a sociopath than a being whose primary existence is to hate. And THANOS is her dad! (I also love Thanos but he’s like mopey emo sullen.) Sure, even though her bald head, black contacts and dour demeanor give her an uncanny resemblance to Hellraiser, she's still very sexy. And random nerd trivia: in Thor: Love and Thunder am I the only one who suspects the giant screaming goats bear an overwhelming resemblance to the endangered screamapillar Homer discovers in DABF16, penned by John Swartzwelder?

 

7/20/2022 AMC Madison Yards 8

Atlanta, GA

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New Rules

The metacommentary about the current state of horror movies in Scream (2022, Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett) is fun, yet also disavows it from being considered derivative in a way where it suffers from a lack of originality. And it earned my respect for the most part because its points are valid and well-constructed. 

     The small town high-school teen slasher/corny melodrama hokum works for me. And I’m very grateful that R-rated teen horror movies haven’t exceeded 2 hour run times yet. (I’m still pissed off Transformers and superhero movies can go over 2 ½ hours.) What kind of sucks though is that there’s an uplifting, overly-sentimental agenda that seems to have been deliberately built in, which I just took offense to being in a slasher. But I can’t really complain—that’s what the majority wants so it must be right.

     Although, okay one complaint. How does the kitchen in the opening scene have a land line? Or why isn't there some wisecrack about it at least? Still, yes the opening scene in any Scream is my favorite part.

Highlight of the movie: how amazing is Mikey Madison? I really dug her as SADIE in Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood (2019, Quentin Tarantino) because of how menacing she can be, and well, really enjoyable as a hysteric psychopath in that movie. But here there’s this warmth to her performance as a caring friend too. Anyways, also the high schoolers actually were cast by actors who look a little more convincing agewise. 

 

1/13/2022 AMC Madison Yards 8

Atlanta, GA

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