Parasite

One of last year's nominees for Best Picture was a black & white film, Roma, about a girl who works as a servant for a wealthy family.  Over the course of the film we see the wealthy family treat their servants with indifference, and sometime with cruelty.  Yet, the closing moments of the film are offer some important perspective; even family members are often treated with indifference and cruelty.  It becomes clear that the girl is a member of the family. 

This year, one of the nominees for Best Picture is a film from South Korea, Parasite, about a family that is struggling to survive by folding pizza boxes for a local pizza shop.  Their WiFi has been turned off, which is a clear indication that they've sunken to a new low.  A friend of the family helps one of the family members get a job as a tutor for teenage daughter of a technology company executive.  In no time at all, through a series of carefully orchestrated personnel changes, the entire family has traded in pizza box folding for jobs in the executive's home.  Roma and Parasite have central characters who are servants for wealthy families, and that's where the comparison ends.  The central characters of Parasite don't have any respect for the wealthy family, to the contrary, they have animosity for them, and look to manipulate them at every opportunity.

What's interesting is that the director of Parasite, Bong Joon Ho doesn't focus on the class conflict, rather he is interested in a certain struggle that is unique to the human condition; shame.  From the opening scenes where it is revealed that the central characters have been failing at everything; they can't keep jobs, they can't stay in school, and they can't fold pizza boxes very well.  As a result each of them feels a certain amount of shame, and they each are handling it in their own way.  What makes this film unique is that it is an amalgamation of two genres; part thoughtful ultra-realism character study (like Roma), and part twisted thriller (like The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo).  While this mixture ultimately worked, there were certain elements that just fell flat.  The scenes that were meant to be jarring felt uninspired, and the believably that was established in the first half of the film was missing during the climax. 

Marriage Story

Marriage Story features two strong performances by its central characters, Kylo Ren and Black Widow.  They started out as happily married couple, but Kylo is frustrated that the Black Widow "took his youth", and Black Widow is bitter about living in New York, when Kylo "promised" that they could move to California to be closer to her family.  This wouldn't be such a heartbreaking film, except that they have a 6 year old son, and apparently they can't decide who should get the couch (even though it seems pretty obvious since Kylo is the one who brought it to the relationship).  Laura Dern plays the opposite of her role in this year's Little Women, Alan Alda plays himself as a lawyer, Ray Liotta plays himself as a lawyer, and Wallace Shawn disappoints as a member of Kylo's theater troupe (because he never utters the phrase "inconceivable", even though it would have worked plenty of times).  It's a good thing that Black Widow is such a good writer, and is able to express her feeling through words so well; otherwise we wouldn't have gotten that amazing happy ending.

Wallace Shawn Disappoints in Marriage Story

1917

1917 is a masterfully executed piece of filmmaking.  The director, Sam Mendes does not use this film to make a case for or against war, rather he use the backdrop of war to celebrate the qualities of the human spirit which only become evident in the harshest of conditions.

The promotional campaign for 1917 has made a big deal about its use of the "one shot" effect, which makes the entire film seem as though it's been captured in a single, long continuous take.  I believe that drawing attention to the technique is contradictory to what makes it so effective.  Mendes and his team of filmmakers took painstaking steps to make the technique invisible; the mechanics of filmmaking should exist with the singular purpose of immersing the audience.  In theory, you shouldn't even notice the technique if done properly; you should be fully absorbed by the events occurring onscreen.  Mendes comes close to accomplishing this.

I am fascinated by the idea that great art is somehow ingrained in our nature.  Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder, rather it is an absolute.   You may have experienced this when listening to a beautiful piece of classical music; even though you don't remember hearing it before somehow the arrangement of the notes does not surprise you because each one is so perfectly placed that you can't imagine it any other way.  Classical music doesn't even have to be "your thing" to appreciate that perfect composition when you hear it.  It could be argued that every attempt at creating art has one single perfect outcome; a misplaced note, a heavy-handed stroke of the brush, or an unbalanced frame of film can be the difference between a masterpiece and a mediocre attempt.  1917 opens on a peaceful scene in the French countryside, and introduces us to two young soldiers who we will accompany for the next few hours as they make a harrowing journey across the battlefield on an extremely dangerous mission.  As the film unfolds each moment perfectly compliments the one it follows, and that is a truly an astounding accomplishment.  As an example, towards the end of the film, one of the main characters stumbles into a building which appears to have been severely damaged by artillery.  The people he meets, and the way he leaves them is not simply a detour as it may first appear, but it turns out to be a poignant segment of the overall arc of the film.  1917 consists of a series of events that are perfectly orchestrated to form what ultimately should be considered Mendes' masterpiece.

Best Picture

1917 was the best film of the nine nominated for Best Picture this year - click on the link below to read my review.  If you're interested in my opinions on the other eight films, they're here too,

The Irishman

Joker

Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood

Jojo Rabbit

Little Women

Ford V Ferrari

1917

Marriage Story   

Parasite 

Ford V Ferrari

Ford V Ferrari tells a story that I wasn't previously aware of, but now I am.  Matt Damon plays a guy who can't race anymore, so he uses his passion for the sport to encourage Christian Bale's character to utilize his gift for racing instead of squandering it.  It's pretty much Good Will Hunting in fast cars, with Matt Damon playing the Robin Williams character, and Christian Bale playing the Matt Damon character.  Since I liked Good Will Hunting it should come as not surprise that I also liked Ford V Ferrari.  I like when a movie is enthusiastic about its subject, even when I wouldn't otherwise be interested.  I get the impression that the filmmakers who collaborated to make Ford V Ferrari believe that the competition between these two famous, but vastly different car manufacturers is an important piece of history, worth documenting for posterity.  I'm not sure that I walked away from the movie feeling any different about the history of cars, or the rivalry's impact on the public's perceptions of certain brands of cars.  Ultimately I still think that Ferraris are fast, powerful, and beautiful works of art - but American-made cars are better.  Hands down.  How do you like them apples?

Little Women

You might be surprised to learn that one of my favorite movies is the 1994 version of Little Women, directed by Gillian Armstrong, starring Winona Ryder, Kirsten Dunst, Claire Danes, Eric Stoltz, and Christian Bale.  This is one of the first films that I ever watched with my first wife Jess, and we've watched it dozens of times together over the past 24 years.  I think it's safe to say that I've seen this movie more than any other, and I hope for many more viewings.  This is a sweet movie, about kind people, and builds-up its characters without it coming at anyone's expense.  Little Women is the film version of being wrapped in a blanket, sitting by a crackling fireplace, and watching Little Women with the one you love.  If you sense that there was some sort of paradox in the previous statement, please know that it was intentional.

Oh, now I remember.  There's another film version of Little Women, that just so happens to have been nominated for Best Picture this year.  I actually started this review to discuss the new film, but I really don't believe that I can provide an unbiased criticism since the previous version is so close to my heart.  I will say that the current version of the film is much broader in its scope, and the filmmakers have achieved something quite nice; this is definitely a much needed diversion from the most of the other films nominated for Best Picture this year.  The film is, is directed by Greta Gerwig, who clearly is is trying to say something with the chronological back-and-forth style in which the story is presented.  She may simply be looking to make the story feel more contemporary, but I have a suspicion that its something deeper.  Gerwig definitely succeeds at giving each of the cast an opportunity to connect with the audience.  Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet, Meryl Streep, and Chris Cooper all give wonderful performances, in some cases bringing to life characters that were simply in the background in the 1994 version.  Chris Cooper's portrayal of the grandfather who lives next door to the little women was especially moving, and a welcome addition to this interpretation of the story.  That being said, the time spent on supporting characters did mean less attention was paid to those who had all the screen time in the previous version.  I was surprised that Saoirse Ronan's character Jo was given so little time, and felt underdeveloped.  There is a scene towards the end of the film where we see a montage of Jo madly scribbling away at her manuscript (fortunately she's ambidextrous), in a rush to get her novel finished before the film comes to a close.  I won't spoil the ending, so you'll have to go see the movie for yourself to discover whether she was successful.

Jojo Rabbit

Jojo Rabbit is an extremely entertaining, and sometimes heartwarming story about an enthusiastic, but somewhat naïve boy (who goes by the name "Jojo").  Oh yeah, and Jojo is an active member of the Hitler Youth.  If you're uncomfortable with the last sentence, don't worry, this movie is about as left-leaning and politically correct as any movie could possibly be, so there's no risk of sympathizing with anyone who's not as open minded as you are.  The film's director, Taika Waititi also plays the role of Hitler, taking inspiration from Jimmy Stewart's friend Harvey, being there for Jojo as he navigates everyday life as a boy in Nazi Germany.  Waititi understands that contemporary audiences would have difficulty fathoming the atrocities that were committed by Nazis, so he depicts them as ignorant, patriotic, gun-loving, partisans. 

What's worse, to mischaracterize an ideological adversary as being comparable to a Nazi, or to misrepresent the Nazis by assigning them the traits of your ideological adversary?  Both are bad, but I would argue the latter is reprehensible.

On any other night of the year I probably would have closed with the following statement:  Even though I realize that I should be offended, Jojo Rabbit was just entertaining enough that I can't stay angry for long.  But tonight is different, since I found out just yesterday that a man that I admire greatly, Rush Limbaugh has been diagnosed with advanced-stage lung cancer, and the prognosis is uncertain.  Rush wouldn't let a movie like Jojo Rabbit get away with being reprehensible, and laugh it off in for the sake of entertainment.  He would call-out Waititi, and would caution his listeners not to unwittingly support such a perverted worldview.  And I'm reminded of many Godly men in my life who would be disappointed to find me promoting such a film.  So I must refrain from recommending Jojo Rabbit; its faults far outweigh its merits.  There are many better films to choose from.  I for one endeavor to search them out, and I will share my findings with you.

Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood

My introduction to Quentin Tarantino films 25 years ago came at a time when I was very impressionable; there was something electric about Tarantino's personality that sparked my imagination and changed the way I think of movies.  The mid to late 90s was filled with filmmakers young and old trying to capture something of Tarantino's style, but they were all uninspired copies.  I believe that the description "Tarantinoesque" is only applicable to the works of the master himself, and some of his films deserve the honor more than others.  Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood is definitely Tarantinoesque.  This is a film about characters who are loved by Tarantino, so he treats them with care.  I was surprised by the measured pace at which the story unfolds, it's quite clear that Tarantino is in no rush to get to the end; these are characters that he wants to spend time with.  The observant reader may notice that my recent review of The Irishman was critical of its long runtime.  The difference is that any reasonable person would want to spend as little time as possible with the despicable gangsters depicted in The Irishman.  Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood, on the other hand, has Tarantinoesque heroes; hopelessly flawed individuals that somehow get on your good side.  Now these heroes aren't necessarily the type of people that you would want to have living next door...  On second thought, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Over the past 25 years what it means to be Tarantinoesque has changed, and it's likely that any film geek you ask will have a different definition.  There are some who associate Tarantino with graphic depictions of violence, and would be disappointed if there wasn't at least one scene that would necessitate some clean-up advice from The Wolf, and a closet full of Jimmy's towels.  I myself have always ascribed to Roger Ebert's analysis of Tarantino, who argued that the most effective scenes in Tarantino films are the ones with the threat of violence.  Once Upon A Time... in Hollywood contains one such extended sequence; the sense of danger that Tarantino creates is nerve racking, and has a much greater impact on establishing characters and the theme of the film than the closing moments of graphic brutality. 

I believe that Tarantino takes pleasure in creating graphically violent scenes, and that is disappointing for two reasons.  The first and most important reason being that "from the fruit of his mouth a man eats what is good, but the desire of the treacherous is for violence" (Proverbs 13:2).  And the second reason is that I expect more from Tarantino than to have every story he tells deteriorate into a revenge fantasy bloodbath.  Only Tarantino to can change the what it means to be Tarantinoesque; I for one am hoping that he gets better with age, and by that I mean "like wine". 

Joker

The amazing performance by Joaquin Phoenix in Joker is on the same level as Jack Nicholson's portrayal of McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.  Unfortunately the movie is undeserving of the performance, with the writers and director seemingly confused as to whether they wanted to make a comic book movie or a serious film.  This may seem like a contradiction if you know how much I admire Nolan's Batman series; the difference is that Nolan made serious comic book films.  Todd Phillips, the director of Joker, comes so close to conducting a compelling examination of a deeply troubled man, but allows psychological thriller clichés, and forced comic book references distract from the central story.  The what's real, and what's in his head flashbacks worked really well in Fight Club, but that was a comic book of a movie.  I get that this movie was sold to the studio as a Joker origin story, and is meant to lend relevance to the genre like Logan did a few years back, but a few references to Wayne family members that could have been replaced by any rich family seemed completely unnecessary and out of place.  Honestly it would have been better if the movie would have been named after the main character, with no explicit references to the Batman comics; then perhaps a fan theory would have developed with people arguing that Arthur Fleck is really the Joker, and that would have been a truly interesting contribution to pop culture.  But movies are business, and a film about some average Joe with a mental disorder wouldn't have been enough to sell tickets; so instead of a great film, we get a great performance in a forgettable movie. 

The Irishman

It is difficult to consider The Irishman on its own merits; while some may suggest that the film represents a culmination of the director, Martin Scorsese's career, I found it to be a moderately good film, and  unnecessarily long.  Please note that I am not complaining about the length of the film, I am simply suggesting that this could have been a great film if Scorsese would have trimmed the superfluous elements.  I have considered the possibility that Scorsese intentionally crafted the film with an extended runtime to convey the sense of weariness experienced by the main character.  If Scorsese's intent was to bore me, he was triumphant.  Unfortunately I believe that even the greatest directors suffer from their own success; whatever drove them to strive for perfection has been replaced with the belief that they can do no wrong.  Examples of this can be seen in anything from Wes Anderson post The Royal Tenenbaums, Quentin Tarantino post Pulp Fiction, and George Lucas post A New Hope.  That's not to say that Scorsese and these other great directors don't continue to demonstrate greatness after achieving success, it's just that their subsequent work is muddied with self-indulgence.

Jude and I watched Goodfellas just a few days before going to see The Irishman, and it's impressive how the former film epitomizes Scorsese's ability to weave a cautionary tale into a virtuoso visual experience that would have been an exploitation flick in the hands of a lesser director.  Only a complete moron could walk away from seeing Goodfellas with aspirations of becoming a gangster.  Where Goodfellas dispels the glamorous portrayal of gangsters in popular culture, The Irishman is interested in the effects that one man's life of crime has on his soul.  This is a lofty theme for Scorsese to tackle, yet when measured against cinematic standards that he established in previous films, the result is not as satisfying.  We're shown one example after another of the main character (played by Robert De Niro) committing horrible crimes that end up hurting his family and friends.  Scorsese is interested in exploring how this behavior changes the man over the course of his life, and whether he has regrets as the end draws near.  I can admit that my disappointment in the answers to these questions may be a sign that Scorsese was successful in conveying his message.  Alright, maybe this was a great film.

Avengers: Endgame

I wrote the following immediately after seeing Avengers: Endgame for the first time.  I've seen it again since, and I believe that my initial impressions hold true:

True heroes must be defined by the sacrifice that they make while accomplishing great feats for others.  Let me explain what I mean; a guy dropping a bomb from a UAV could never be a hero because he gets to drive home to his family after work that day.  An NFL quarterback could never be a hero because ultimately everything he does on the field is self-serving.  As an aside, I recently saw an advertisement for Budweiser featuring Dwayne Wade in which his off-the-court contributions to the community were detailed; showing that it's possible for a professional athlete to be a hero, just not during his day job.  Using this definition of heroes, none of the Avengers qualify because none of them face any real risk of life and limb, therefore there is no real sacrifice.

Hawkeye's family dying during the opening sequence would have been an emotionally powerful stroke of filmmaking genius, if only there had been one iota of a chance that they wouldn't be returned safe and sound by the movie's finish.