Luxury Horror

Luxury is scary. What better object displays vulgar wealth than an infinity pool?

Infinity Pool (2023, Brandon Cronenberg) is a tedious, shallow, barrage of redundant horror cliches that looks stylish—although is it? Like the macro photography dialogue scenes. Are extreme close-ups of an eye or a mouth back and forth while 2 people talk really that innovative, or is there even a reason?
     Does this movie sound awful? It’s rubbish. And that’s when it gets good. Infinity Pool is a psychological horror film that satirizes dilettantes. The whole thing amounts to some cynical irony like an upscale art gallery full of rich people attending an exhibition with no art to be found. 
     The story really begins when the character Alexander Skarsgård plays and the one played by Mia Goth meet. He, a writer and she, an actress, both identify themselves as working in creative professions, despite both being devoid of any discernable talent. And that’s why most of the time this movie feels obnoxious and like it lacks any sense of artistry that would give it merit. Unless you realize that’s the point.
     Because the Skarsgård character deliberately sought after being a part of this group (and that disavows him of being entirely coerced into it), this moral structure whereby the story elements having to do with the doubling device as a means to confronting his true self (his worst traits) subsequently leads finally to allowing us to have sympathy for him. And the veracity of this is what makes it haunting.
 

1/26/2023 AMC Phipps Plaza 14

Atlanta, GA

DCP

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
DCP

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

DCP

     

Great Urinals of the Hawai'ian Islands

 

'Anaeho'omalu Beach, Waikoloa Village, Hawai'i.

Great Urinals of the Hawai'ian Islands

 

Volcano House hotel, Pahoa, Hawai'i.

How to read John Ford

I can never get enough John Ford. I am picky about which ones though, just like I am about everything else. It’s the Westerns mostly. And some of his American frontier ones like Young Mr. Lincoln (1939) and Drums Along the Mohawk (1939). At home I just watched a trio of Westerns I consider to be his last great successes of that genre: The Horse Soldiers (1959), Two Rode Together (1961) and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962). And these last 2 particularly are something like variations on a theme—Two Rode Together revisits issues from The Searchers (1956) and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance harks back to My Darling Clementine (1946). Wait, can I say variations on a theme? In classical music I think it only applies to a composer reworking a piece from another composer, like lately I been really into Brahms’s “Variations and fugue on a theme by Handel, Op. 24,” but I digress.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance had a ton of stuff I’d never noticed before. And this is a movie I’ve always loved and first saw it when I was in my early 20s. It’s really saying a lot about a movie if it gets better through the years. First of all there’s its subject matter, which along with My Darling Clementine uses characters who serve as symbols for the dualism of man’s nature in terms of wild/domesticated, or civilized/savage, and the clash of a society torn between civilization/wilderness, or law/anarchy; and these 2 characters in both films are caught in a love triangle with a woman.

     What I noticed this time around were certain aspects of TOM DONIPHON. He’s masculine as hell. And he’s the wild part of man’s nature. He smokes cigarettes. He drinks whiskey. And ultimately we see him quit shaving, get falling-down drunk, belligerent, and burn down the part of his house he’d built as an annex for the woman he planned on marrying—but when he destroys the part meant for her, he takes down his own home along with it. That’s powerful stuff. That house symbolizes his heart. I think something that helped me see this aspect was that when I was in film school I picked up on how in David Peoples’ script for Unforgiven (1992, Clint Eastwood) the house LITTLE BILL builds for himself being deformed is a symbol of his interpretation of the law: crooked, and everyone knows it. In contrast, RANSOM STODDARD is the domestic, even feminine. In the scene where Stoddard brings the steak for Doniphon, what’s Valance say? Something like: hey get a load of the new waitress. And Stoddard doesn't drink.

     Another thing that caught my attention for the first time is the meal Stoddard is served. All the other men eat steak. But what’s Stoddard eat? It looks like bread and beans. Because in the Old West vegetarians were probably considered pussies. Nowadays he'd send the toast back and inform the staff he was gluten free.

     Even the biggest part of the story took on a new aspect for me. I’d always thought The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is about how Stoddard came back to pay his respects to his best friend, and how Tom Doniphon is a noble, virtuous, generous, doing what’s best for society forward-thinker. But is he? At the end when Stoddard asks his wife who put the cactus rose on the coffin he seems to say it with contempt. Like maybe he disapproves. Like maybe he’s jealous. And worse, when he suggests moving back, could he be implying that now that Doniphon is dead it’d be a great place to live?

     And even though he has his problems, Doniphon is unquestionably the hero. But there are more problematic aspects of his character. Like the way he treats HALLIE. She’s constantly angry with him, and then there’s the scene where she yells at him about not being his property. Yet when he tells her he’s leaving town for a few days, the way she leaves the house after he’s left to watch him go is one of the most moving scenes in the movie—a very Fordian touch if there ever was one. (Also this moment recalls the same thing HANNAH does when COL. MARLOWE leaves in The Horse Soldiers.) I wonder if this occurs in other of Ford’s films, I know I’ll be looking from now on.

     Another thing about Ford is what he leaves out. Like WYATT EARP never telling CLEMENTINE CARTER he loves her, there are some crucial things left unsaid in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, much to its advantage. Doniphon never tells Hallie that he loves her. After the night Stoddard is elected, what happens to Tom Doniphon? Did he and Hallie ever speak again? Why did Hallie marry Stoddard? How did Doniphon die? The point is none of this matters, and the story works better without these answers. Doniphon represents an outdated way of life, and Stoddard his replacement.

     There’s also the problem about POMPEY. In the standoff with Valance, Doniphon refers to Pompey as his “boy.” But worse is the scene where Stoddard is educating Pompey in the schoolroom and Doniphon barges in yelling about how Pompey has chores to do and pulls him away. Coud this be seen as resembling slavery? No. Because Doniphon later fights for Pompey to be served in the saloon, where there’s clearly a policy of not allowing black people to drink in there. But my point is despite the way Doniphon treats Stoddard, Hallie, or Pompey, (Applyard maybe?) they’re the only ones to mourn him at his funeral. The morals of The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance are nuanced.

 

8/20/2022

Paramount Pictures 2017 blu-ray

Atlanta, GA

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
DCP

&$#@%!

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
DCP
 

Technologies for the Clearest Juice; The Drippy Stuff; That Wet-Wet; Nature's Friend Part 1: The Sixteenth Ounce

(Smol water bottle is smol.)

I'm using one of nature's least useful creations today: the 16-ounce Nalgene bottle. It's fun in size. It fits right in the hand, it's even pocketable! Like all Naglenes, it's a near-perfect vessel for sticker deployment, second perhaps only as a vehicle for same to the, uh, vehicles driven by special kinds of liberals who say my politics let me show you them ALL of them. However, it's challenging in configuration. The long cap strap imposes:

• A cap-dangle when the open bottle is at rest, which can be unstable and which is certainly unsightly (see visualization)


(Attend in this moment to the angle of the dangle. The weight is distributed...poorly in this disposition.)

• This instability increases as the bottle's cargo lessens, inviting the minor paradox of spills becoming more likely as the spillable matter becomes less
• An awkward flapping when the open bottle is in motion, as, say, when being hoisted for a quaff, i.e. when used for its usual purpose: the quench
  • This is a particular problem vis-a-vis spatter and splatter, as the world's most effective attractor slash distributor of water droplets has long been understood to be the grooves inside the lid (or "cap") of a Nalgene, which no one has ever cleaned adequately nor dried effectively

But! As the worker at the coffee shop this afternoon said—well after I had begun this piece, oddly—"It looks like a fun size!" It does. It is! And I enjoy this adorable lil' bottle enormously probably in oversized part precisely because it is small.

It's adorable. I aim to adore it. Until I inevitably knock it over onto my keyboard later this afternoon sometime.