The Wolf of Wall Street

Apparently I wrote the following review a few years back, and probably didn't post it for good reasons...  This isn't an endorsement, just a review:

Any movie that can make me question long-held beliefs must be doing something right.  If you listen to the leftists of the world (i.e. Al Gore) you would conclude that Capitalism is a pervasive evil that must be dismantled before it destroys us all.  On the other extreme we find Rush Limbaugh, who equates Capitalism with Godliness.  I would suggest that our country wouldn't be what it is today without Capitalism; the good and the bad.  Greedy, selfish Capitalists placed us in the unique position to save the world from Nazism and Japanese imperialism at the same time.  You might argue that it was our country's Godly foundation which led to a World War II victory.  Or you might point to the blessings of natural resources, or the motivating power of good vs. evil...  Sure, that's all true, but greedy, selfish Capitalists played an integral part. 

Now you're beginning to wonder, what has this to do with The Wolf of Wall Street?  Martin Scorsese has made a movie which should be both inspiring and totally offensive to any reasonable person.  There is no aristocracy in the United States, everyone has the opportunity to better him or her self.  Inherent with this freedom is the potential for devastating failure and degradation.  Scorsese has crafted an allegory; warning all viewers of the pitfalls associated with Capitalism.  In an early scene, Matthew McConaughey's character offers his advice on how to be a great stock broker.  He carefully plots a routine of drug and alcohol use to maximize his effectiveness; the ultimate goal is to make as much money as possible.  Health, kindness, peace, love, integrity,... none of these are even factors in his approach, only self-gratification and money.  The main character in the film, played by Leonardo DiCaprio takes this advice to heart, and the result is an empty life of excess.

I don't think that Scorsese is so hypocritical as to be criticizing success, or the competitive nature of Capitalism.  Rather, this film plays more as a warning to those who would naïvely assume that any system is run by "good" people.  We are the sheep.  The guys dominating on Wall Street are the wolves.  The most poignant moment in The Wolf of Wall Street comes during an explanation; making money for investors is unimportant to the broker, because making money for the broker is the only thing.  In a perfect world Capitalism would be wonderful; a flawless balance of supply and demand would bring peace and harmony.  In a perfect world Communism would be wonderful too... 

Where this film made me question my beliefs has to do with the infectious nature of evil.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish Capitalists helped win World War II, with no negative side effects.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish, white Capitalists settled this country (relocating and murdering along the way), with no lasting negative side effects.  I'd like to believe that greedy, selfish Capitalists can run our banks, corporations, churches, etc. with no negative side effects.  Scorsese is telling me to wake up.  That's all this film is, an exposé.  What should be done next?, well that is a really important question.

Best Picture

Now that I've seen each of the films nominated in the Best Picture category, let me give my final analysis and prediction.

The nine nominated films (click any one to go to my review)

Get Out
The Post
Lady Bird
Dunkirk
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri
Call Me By Your Name
Phantom Thread
Darkest Hour
The Shape of Water

• My favorite was Phantom Thread, although I may never watch it again - the experience will live in my memory.
• The most entertaining was Get Out.
• The most uplifting was Darkest Hour.
• Call Me By Your Name was the best from a filmmaking perspective, and thus deserves the award.
• I wouldn't be surprised if the Academy gives the award to The Shape of Water, because Hollywood has a depraved sense of beauty.

Get Out

Get Out is formulaic in its structure, yet surprising in its presentation. The plot could be explained in a few brief sentences: A young black man hesitantly agrees to go with his white girlfriend to visit her affluent parents. His apprehension quickly transitions into fear as he realizes that something isn’t quite right with the girlfriend’s family. The family and their social circle exude cult-like vibes; all the white people are too friendly and the few black people are in a trance. As the truth is uncovered in the third act, it is clear that the protagonist is in real danger, and a series of violent confrontations drives the film to its final reveal. Back in 1960 Psycho used the same formula, as have a plethora of psychological thrillers and horror movies in the years since. The director of Get Out, Jordan Peele doesn’t try to reinvent the formula; honestly the film is quite predictable. Where directors like M. Night Shyamalan makes thrillers that have legitimately scary moments in the vein of Hitchcock, that’s not what Peele is going for. Instead, Peele is using this genre as a vehicle to comment on the state of racial relations in society today. He points out that bald-faced racism of past generations has been replaced by a self-righteous short-sighted attitude amongst those who consider themselves ‘enlightened’. Peele suggests that pretending no racial divide exists is just as offensive as open racism – his heroes are the honest people of the film, the ones who see what’s really going on.

I liked that Peele didn’t veer from the tone that he established early on in the film, the temptation to shock and splatter the screen with blood must have been there (and I realize this is relative), but he chose moderation. The result is that the audience is allowed to process what the film was about, instead of how gruesome the last 20 minutes were. It bothers me that so many movies resort to graphic violence, when a good story and compelling acting are much more effective. I will also mention that the main character’s friend, a TSA agent who serves as a voice of reason (and comic relief) throughout the film, is a great example of Peele’s talented sense of timing and balance. Peele masterfully uses this character as a sort of narrator; he’s seeing the events unfold much in the same way we are. My question would be, is he a reliable, or unreliable narrator?

Black Panther

I can unequivocally say that Black Panther is the best comic book film adaptation since Thor: Ragnarok, and it very well may hold that distinction until May of this year.  Perhaps you sense a little comic book fatigue, which would be an accurate assessment.  Singer's X-Men and Nolan's Batman Begins heralded a Golden Age of comic book movies, but also opened the floodgate to studios greenlighting every project that comes their way.  For every excellent adaptation, there are at least five or six mediocre offerings.  The director of Black Panther, Ryan Coogler should be given credit for a valiant effort, but there are flaws which have become all to common in recent comic book movies:

1.  Too many uninteresting characters steal precious time from the central characters.
2.  If you can't make the digital effect look good, just leave the scene on the cutting room floor (or drag and drop to the recycle bin...).
3.  If you want the film to be a political commentary, own it.  Don't insult the audience with thinly veiled allusions to contemporary politics.

Coogler got some really important elements right, enough to redeem an otherwise bland movie:

1.  Costume design is amazing, vibrant, and is the visual thread that holds the film together.
2.  Casting Chadwick Boseman as the Black Panther, Lupita Nyong'o as Nakia, Forest Whitaker as Zuri, Michael B. Jordan as Killmonger, and Andy Serkis as Klaue was right on, each of these performers were excellent in their roles.
3.  The soundtrack by Kendrick Lamar and score by Ludwig Göransson combine fluidly to create a distinct atmosphere throughout the film. While I liked Thor: Ragnarok's multiple uses of Zeppelin's Immigrant Song, I can admit that the action sequence montage is one of the clichés that detracts from comic book movies. Coogler smartly avoided this by using fresh music instead of depending on classic or popular compositions, which makes the film feel new and distinct.

The Post

As an exercise in filmmaking, Spielberg's The Post pads a resume that's already bursting at the seams (I realize that I'm mixing metaphors).  Everything onscreen supports Spielberg's vision; it would be difficult to find any flaws with this film, and the virtuoso newsprinting sequence alone is worth the price of admission.  So, if you want to see one movie in your entire life about the heroics of journalists, then go no further than The Post.  But if you saw Spotlight a few years ago, or All The President's Men, or any other film in this sub-genre, then you've already gotten the general gist of The Post.  In a nutshell, every journalist is full of unbiased integrity, seeking the truth, and is a defender and champion of the Constitution.  I have to give Spielberg credit, the two main characters call each other out on relationships that threaten their impartiality.  But Spielberg's conclusion is that his heroes are immune to corruption, and their sympathetic nature makes them better people, and thereby better journalists.  This may be the most one-sided Spielberg movie ever made, and I'm including the fact that you couldn't even see the Nazis during the opening scenes of Saving Private Ryan.  I don't think that a great film must give equal time, or even pretend to be objective, but I found the preachiness of this film to be intellectually dishonest, and somewhat offensive.  That the Government tried to prohibit the publication of classified documents was met with righteous indignation, yet only a few throw-away lines addressed the possible consequences of printing national secrets.  The irony is that the outcome of history is used to justify decisions that, given a different outcome, would be considered treasonous.  There is even a point in the film when one of the lawyers representing the journalists is asked whether he would have supported printing documents that would have undermined the D-Day invasion; this question goes unanswered.  You might be surprised to hear that overall I liked the film; if someone is going to piss me off, it might as well be one of the best directors of all time...

Lady Bird

Lady Bird is a film that follows a seventeen year old girl through her senior year of high school.  She has a father who's struggling to provide for his family, but does what he can to encourage Lady Bird.  She has a mother who sometimes burdens her with the family's problems, but is ultimately preparing Lady Bird for life.  She makes bad decisions when it comes to school, friends, and boys.  What separates this film from the typical "coming of age" teenage comedy/drama is that Lady Bird is pretty well grounded; she knows when she's made bad decisions, she regrets being selfish, and she is sympathetic to her parents' hardships.  While this is a refreshing change from the standard Hollywood portrayal of teenagers, it honestly isn't very entertaining.  Call me shallow, but I prefer Clueless and 10 Things I Hate About You.  Those are examples of films that don't honestly reflect the typical teenage experience, but they sure are fun to watch.  Lady Bird is a well made film which contains a wonderfully nuanced performance by Laurie Metcalf as Lady Bird's mom; but it wan't enough to keep me interested.  I know that life can be monotonous, and I realize that sometimes great films exist to remind us of that, but this didn't quite rise to that level.

Dunkirk

I'm not sure why I didn't write this back in July, but better late than never...

Dunkirk was an interesting project for Christopher Nolan to undertake, more than anything else I get the impression that this is a story that is important to him.  Nolan's strengths as a director are apparent in Dunkirk, but the film suffers because his focus is not tight enough.  Nolan's greatest works have begun with a simple premise, which were expanded upon with just the right amount of narrative and details: The Prestige was about commitment, Inception dealt with belief, and Memento delved into the intricacies of loss.  Dunkirk is about any number of things; perseverance, ingenuity, and hope.  It's probably about many other important ideas too, which is why it is a good film.  What keeps it from being great is that Nolan never seems to know where the film's center should be, and this results in weak sub-plots and unnecessary characters taking up valuable screen time.  That being said, the cinematography, acting, effects, and sound are all superb.  It's not surprising that Nolan chose to focus on the Battle of Dunkirk's closing days and the ensuing evacuation; there are important lessons to be learned, and expressing those ideas is a challenge worthy of a great filmmaker.  It also should be noted that this film pairs well with Joe Wright's Darkest Hour, which is about Churchill making decisions that ultimately decide the fate of those at Dunkirk.  Nolan's Dunkirk will not have the lasting impact of Saving Private Ryan or Bridge on the River Kwai; that's because those films stayed on target from start to finish - Dunkirk is too much of a good thing.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri tries to be too many things, and doesn’t really succeed at any.  At its core, the film may fall into the revenge flick genre, but to its credit (and to its detriment), it doesn’t follow the formula.  Typically we would be presented with a revenge-worthy circumstance, then the protagonist would be presented with hurdles, i.e. solving the unsolved mystery of who deserves her vengeance, and finally there would be a climactic resolution.  Three Billboards alludes to each of these stages of the revenge flick, but never delivers.  In a better film, I could see this working to convey a lesson that revenge is never satisfying, but McDonagh never finds the right tone.  He doesn't follow the formula, but he doesn't present us with a cohesive alternative either.  His characters are not fully realized, and the plot doesn’t ever get traction - there is allusion to a deeper story, but nothing substantive is provided.  I don’t think it’s necessary to show the revenge-worthy crime, but somehow I never really was convinced that it had ever taken place.  While Frances McDormand usually plays persuasive characters, here her motivation seems forced.  Likewise, Woody Harrelson, and Sam Rockwell, while they gave entertaining performances, were not compelling.  I think that Rockwell’s character’s transformation was unique (it would have been unexpected if I hadn’t heard about it beforehand), and was probably the best part of the film.  That being said, Braveheart, The Princess Bride, and Kill Bill Vol. 2 each have dealt with the revenge in ways that are far more interesting than Three Billboards.  I will say that McDonagh surprised me, by going just past the point that I thought would be the perfect ending, and finding one that was just a little bit better.

Call Me by Your Name

I don’t usually consider the hypothetical when writing film reviews, but I think it may be useful in writing about Call Me by Your Name.  What if this was a story about a 17 year old boy attracted to a 24 year old woman, and the ensuing relationship, with an emphasis on their sexual exploits?  What if everything else about the film was exactly the same?  Call Me by Your Name takes place in an idyllic Italian countryside, circa 1983; which means things are just modern enough to be familiar, but retro enough to suggest a simpler time.   I especially found the scenes depicting bicycle rides to ring true to my ‘80s experience; whatever happened to kids on bikes?  The 17 year old boy is played by Timothée Chalamet, who delivers an excellent performance as a boy who is nurtured and loved by his parents, and is acutely self-aware.  Films that allow their characters to feel and think are rare, because it so often clashes with the plot.   The director, Luca Guadagnino employs an unobtrusive filmmaking style, which allows for an intimate view of his characters.  This approach, combined with exemplary acting is effective in conveying to the audience what is happening onscreen between the characters, and what is motivating them.  

If we stay with my hypothetical film premise, then I’d most likely say that this was a beautiful film; I only wish that filmmakers would stop promoting sex outside marriage, and wouldn’t it have been wonderful if the film could have treated a platonic relationship so gracefully.  Maybe I would have said that, honestly I probably wouldn’t have batted an eye at a heterosexual relationship.

Leaving the hypothetical behind, it should be said that Call Me by Your Name is about a 17 year old boy who is attracted to a 24 year old man, and the ensuing relationship, with an emphasis on their sexual exploits.  All the qualities I mentioned before hold true, this is a masterfully crafted film that contains scenes of beauty and honest depictions of humanity.  It is clear that the filmmakers intended this as a celebration of a homosexual relationship; I found it to work quite well as tragic exploration of our fallen nature.   The boy’s father, played by Michael Stuhlbarg* delivers a powerful monologue towards the film’s close, basically an “it is better to have loved and lost” speech tailored to fit as advice from a father to his son.   It is sad when good intentions have such devastating consequences.


*Michael Stuhlbarg also appeared in the recently reviewed The Shape of Water, playing a character who was called-out by Focus on the Family as a “negative element” because he depicted a “foreign spy”.  I assume that this made the review because of the 9^th Commandment, but I hope that it was meant as a joke.

Phantom Thread

There are two major surprises in Paul Thomas Anderson's Phantom Thread, and I'm going to tell you what they are right now.  First, this film sneaks up on you and absorbs you into its atmosphere, then its over.  After just one viewing, I can't tell you when the film took over.  Actually I remember thinking about 20 minutes in, 'I wonder where this is going?'.  And the funny thing is, I don't know that it really went anywhere, but it sure was absorbing.  Second, the young, naive, clumsy waitress (payed by Vicky Krieps) proves to be more than a match for Daniel Day-Lewis' mature, graceful, master of the house.  This was a major surprise to me because it was so unexpected, everything points to Day-Lewis' character domineering the relationship until the girl is discarded and broken like all the rest.  But Anderson only uses formula up to the point it suits him, then he abandons it altogether.  The importance of environment, color, and character is somewhat reminiscent of Hitchcock, and for some reason the film Rebecca comes to mind as a valid comparison.  But even the most atmospheric of Hitchcock's films had a plot.  I believe that Phantom Thread has some fascinating things to say about self-centered people finding ways to live "happily" together, but this isn't a character study either.  The genius of Anderson and Day-Lewis is that a collaboration like this requires an absolute commitment to a concept; everyone involved had to be in on the plan, otherwise it would have failed.  Their last film together, There Will Be Blood was similarly ambiguous in the story it told, and also was powerful in the tension it created.  I'm not surprised that these artists made a great film, I'm just amazed that they could do it again, and somehow even better. 

Darkest Hour

I was wary about Joe Wright's new film Darkest Hour for two reasons; the current political climate is strongly opposed to men like Winston Churchill, and Wright made a film a few years back called Atonement, which I really disliked.  Both my concerns were unwarranted; Wright has made a masterful film about a the greatest hero of the last century.  The film covers just the right scale, focusing on the behind-the-scenes details of Churchill taking over the office of Prime Minister.  There are enough shots of the battlefield to give historical context, but Wright cleverly uses a bird's eye view to make it clear that Churchill must consider the entire scope of his decisions.  Wright balances  Churchill's abrasive persona by highlighting two close relationships; one with his wife, and one with the young country girl who types his speeches.  In a lesser film (such as Atonement) this technique would have slipped into cliché, but here Wright finds just the right note, and we gain a greater appreciation for the context in Churchill's words and actions.  I would be remiss not to mention Gary Oldman's performance, and the makeup, which paired to truly bring Churchill to the screen.  Jude and I recently watched Leon the Professional, and the other night our entire family watched The Dark Knight - Gary Oldman has taken on some challenging roles, but the way he embodies Churchill is truly amazing.  I was moved by the powerful speeches, admittedly the source material and my admiration of Churchill was a contributing factor, but Oldman brought it home.

Back in 2010 I wrote Against the Grain, which covers some the same ideas that Darkest Hour focuses on, primarily that Churchill was precisely the man that the world needed at a turning point in history.  Read the paper.  See the movie.

The Shape of Water

There are three distinct thoughts that I've had since seeing Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water last week:

1.  What in the world?  Someone please tell me that this is a joke of some kind.  As the movie awards season is in full swing, how can this movie be getting any recognition, let alone win any awards?  Yet it has won, and more importantly the film seems to touching a nerve culturally.  The fable of the emperor's new clothes came to mind as the ending titles rolled, how are so many people being duped by this movie?  As one would expect from del Toro, the film is visually excellent, with a lush color palette and top notch effects and makeup (for the most part).  But everything else is so shallow and cliche, that it was awkward to watch.  The villain is one-dimensional, I literally laughed at the heroine's big musical number, and the Swamp Thing creature was one of the least interesting characters ever to be projected onto the big screen.  The producers could have saved a boatload of money by renting a dolphin.

2.  What is del Toro trying to say by graphically depicting a relationship between a woman and the Swamp Thing creature onscreen?  In a film that was definitely preaching against bigotry, is del Toro advocating bestiality?  Based on the context established in the film, I must conclude that del Toro is suggesting that all "love" between consenting individuals is acceptable.  That he intermingles this inter-species relationship with a sub-plot involving a lovelorn homosexual neighbor, and a racist shop owner, further supports my suspicion that del Toro is promoting tolerance well beyond the current social norms.  Maybe I'm just behind the curve on this...

3.  One week out - maybe all my initial impressions were right, and that's why this is such an effective film, and a work of genius.  Recent discussions with a friend and fellow film-buff have led me to conclude that a film doesn't have to be well made or comprised of compelling characters to be effective.  When a film sticks with you days and weeks later, when it gets under your skin, and mostly when it disturbs you, that is an effective film.  Some films, such as Schindler's List utilize technical expertise and tell a story that combine for maximum effect.  Del Toro's trick is to break the rules, deviate from the expected, dabble with campiness, and push right past the envelope of what is socially acceptable.  Perhaps I  made the mistake of thinking that del Toro is on a soap box trying to promote an agenda, maybe he just wanted to make a movie that I would remember.  Of course he may be doing this at the cost of degrading our moral fabric just a little bit more, but that's a small price to pay for entertainment, right?

Logan

I started writing this review in March of 2017 - I added a little bit more today.

Logan a.k.a. Wolverine isn't a very complex character.  As Professor Xavier notes in the film Logan, Wolverine was found wasting his abilities bar fighting in the Pacific Northwest.  He's forever been the reluctant hero, in the vein of Humphrey Bogart (in just about every one of his films).  The director, James Mangold is able to make a film that's compelling in spite of the fact that the central character hasn't changed much in the last 137 years.  What Mangold does with Logan is boil down the formula, dispensing with all the convoluted elements that typically accompany X-Men movies, making a film that's really about a man on a quest to protect someone he truly cares for.  I think we like this type of movie because it's like comfort food; we all know that the calloused alcoholic brute is really a cuddly teddy bear at heart.  Maybe that's an exaggeration, but our satisfaction with these stories corresponds with how extreme the transformation is from antihero to hero.  Most importantly, Mangold gets the underlying elements of filmmaking, character and story, correct, but Logan is also a visual achievement for film with comic book origins.  The action, stunts, special effects, and makeup is a jolting departure for the genre.  Unlike some other recent comic book movies that use graphic violence to shock the audience (or to cater to a desensitized demographic), the style of Logan fits with the story that is being told.  Logan is abandoning his colorful Uncanny X-Men compatriots - he never was really one of them to begin with...

Star Wars Episode Eight: The Last Jedi

I like that the director Rian Johnson spent time developing the characters of Rey and Kylo/Ben.    While The Force Awakens introduced these characters, it was very much a film about passing the torch from one generation to the next.  Johnson is not subtle in his approach; having Kylo smash his mask represents both a symbolic and physical rise to prominence.  In much the same way, Rey displays a fierce self-determination that motivates her to take action and do what is right, even when her reluctant mentor (Luke Skywalker) discourages her at every turn.  At first I wasn’t a fan of Johnson’s deviation from the well established Star Wars formula, but with time and reflection I have come to appreciate it.  My expectations were not fulfilled, but that’s only because I anticipated a predictable plot and character arcs.  It is far more interesting to watch a story unfold in unexpected ways, and it’s more satisfying to witness character growth instead of those who are slaves to the plot.  I have described about one third of the film, the other two thirds consist of the slowest chase sequence in the history of cinema (ironic considering the fact that the ships involved are capable of traveling at light speed).  I found that most of the film was boring, unnecessary, and sometimes not Star Wars-ish, but the sequences involving Rey and Kylo progressed the series, and I’m already looking forward to Episode Nine.