Christopher Robin

When I write a review many months after seeing the film I have a tendency to describe my impression of the film; the details are somewhat fuzzy.  I remember liking Christopher Robin for the reasons that I've always liked Winnie-the-Pooh stories; the childlike honesty and charming naiveté are a refreshing departure from the cynical worldview portrayed in most movies.  I liked the way that Winnie-the-Pooh and the other animal characters were portrayed in the film, from an artistic standpoint the look and feel was just right.  I also liked Ewan McGregor in this film, his performance as a grown-up Christopher Robin captured the character well and found the right tone.  The film wasn't without flaws, as is so often the case with digital effects, there were quite a few moments when Winnie-the-Pooh and his animal friends were portrayed in a way that distracted from the story.  In the books (and animated Disney films) these characters quite often find themselves in misadventures, but the level of zaniness and cartoony action in this film was out of place.  Overall I remember liking the film, and could recommend it in good conscience.

Braveheart

Braveheart is a nearly perfect film.  The following is not a review, it is simply an exercise to help me understand better how the film is structured:

I. Introduction.
a. Central characters are introduced - including love interest.
b. Traumatic event sets protagonist on life's journey.
c. Antagonist's depravity is established.

II. 1st Act
a. Protagonist returns home after a time of personal growth.
b. Central characters are reunited, and deeper relationships develop.
c. Tension between protagonist and antagonist is released in the form of violence.
d. Protagonist rallies people to his side - their movement builds momentum.

III. 2nd Act
a. The tide changes, it becomes clear that the antagonist's depravity knows no bounds
b. Characters true natures are revealed - new enemies and allies emerge.
c. The odds appear overwhelming, but the protagonist struggles forward.

IV. Final Act
a. A final confrontation between the protagonist and antagonist is set in motion.
b. The way in which this final confrontation unfolds is more important than the outcome in its affect on the remaining central characters.
c. The protagonist defeats the antagonist, even if it is not yet evident to the average onlooker.

V. Epilogue - The protagonist's victory is revealed, and the message of the story is clearly affirmed.

Bohemian Rhapsody

The "progressives" of the world, such as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, tell us that we should be sympathetic towards the Freddie Mercury's of the world because we've been born with an unfair advantage, or privilege.  Bryan Singer's Bohemian Rhapsody latches on to this concept and suggests that no matter how many other advantages Mercury might have been born into, a wealthy family, loving parents, natural talent, etc., having just one progressive-approved disadvantage entitles him to behave however he likes.  And please don't think that I'm somehow misrepresenting Ocasio-Cortez on this issue, you can listen to her here, if you so choose.

Of course Bohemian Rhapsody is about a creative genius, whose music rises about cultural strife - I find it difficult to believe that anyone, of any race, color, religious creed, national origin, ancestry, sex, sexual orientation, age, genetic information, military service, disability, etc. doesn't enjoy a rousing performance of Fat Bottomed Girls.

I think it would be unfair of me not to give credit to Rami Malek (who plays Freddie Mercury) and Bryan Singer for making Bohemian Rhapsody such a strong film, in spite of the unfair advantages discussed in the previous paragraphs.  Malek plays Mercury convincingly, and there were moments in the film when I was sympathetic towards the man I saw onscreen, which is a testament to his acting ability.  Singer's direction is intentional and effective, he knows when to hold the shot on grandiose concert scenes, and when to focus on close intimate moments.  It's important to remember though that Singer is the same director who made The Usual Suspects, he's working with quite a bit of filmmaking privilege.

Blockers

I heard an interview on NPR with Kay Cannon, the director Blockers, in which the audio from a scene in the movie was played as an example of its witty writing.  Shame on NPR for playing the only funny part of the movie, and suggesting that this was indicative of the entire movie.

BlacKkKlansman

Spike Lee's Blackklansman is a well made film, contains some compelling characters, and tells an interesting story.  For most filmmakers this would be enough, but Spike Lee seems intent on making it clear that Blackkklansman is a poignant and important film too, which it is not.  I went into the film under the impression that it would be the story of a black man somehow infiltrating the KKK, which I found fascinating because I'm sure that would be frowned upon by the majority of members...  It turns out that a black police officer did infiltrate the KKK, albeit over the phone, and one of his white counterparts handled all the face-to-face meetings.  This was pretty clever, and the situation lends itself to many humorous (and sometimes sad) phone conversations between the KKK grand wizard and the black police officer.  Ultimately it's the white police officer who is risking life and limb, but the film isn't so much about bravery as it is about exposing how deeply racism is rooted in American society.  At its heart, this is a film about two police officers who, regardless of race, are committed to making their city a better place.

If the film had ended there, so would my review, and it would have been overwhelmingly positive.  Instead, Spike Lee jumps forward 40+ years to a white supremacist rally, showing footage of the incident where a white man drove his car into a crowd of counter protesters, killing a 32 year old woman, and injuring many other people.  Does Lee include this clip to remind us that there is still racial tension in this country?  Does Lee feel as though its his moral duty to convey a serious message in a film that otherwise could be simply seen as entertainment?  As I ask these questions, I realize that I don't really have an issue with Lee's approach; after all it is his film.  Maybe more films should have a closing statement, something thought provoking to make the 2-hour runtime a little worthwhile.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

Joel and Ethan Coen have made some of the best movies in the past 35 years.  My first Coen brothers' movie was The Hudsucker Proxy back in the winter of '94, and I've been a fan ever since.  They've made some really funny movies, some really great films, and some quirky near misses.  The Ballad of Buster Scruggs has its moments, but overall must be placed in the "near miss" category.
Unfortunately, this made-for-Netflix feature length movie feels just like a made-for-Netflix feature length movie.  Now I realize that Netflix and Amazon have produced films that become Oscar contenders, but those are definitely in the minuscule minority.  I'm concerned that The Ballad of Buster Scruggs could be part of a trend, where filmmakers see the opportunity to make a quick buck without fear of too much criticism, because bad movies are the norm on these streaming platforms.  That being said, I really enjoyed the first of The Ballad of Buster Scruggs' four episodes - it was laugh-out-loud funny and had the quirkiness of O Brother, Where Art Thou?  I'm not sure why the brothers ran this episode first, perhaps it's because they saw the metrics showing that the average streamer only gets through the first 10 minutes of a movie before switching back to watching The Office or Friends...  If you don't front-load a Netflix movie, no one will ever see the rest.


FYI - I completely made up the statistic used towards the end of this review, but it seemed to support my argument.

Avengers: Infinity War

I thoroughly enjoyed Avengers: Infinity War while I was watching it, but walked away feeling unsatisfied.  My first draft digressed into a fanboy rant focused on how commercialism has stripped all weight of death from the Marvel universe.  Disney might be willing to sacrifice one superhero in the name of art, but wiping out (spoiler alert) half the superhero population is laughable in its transience.  Thanos might have well just shot the Avengers with a paintball gun; their vaporization will be reversed with the stroke of a pen.  Alright, so the fanboy rant survived to the final draft (there were only two after all).  Avengers: Infinity War was enjoyable because anything could happen.  The universe is the Avenger's playground, you never know where they're going to be next, or who they'll run into.  Even the psychopathic villain who is hell-bent on committing genocide is somehow likable because the special effects by which he is rendered are so amazing.  Yet every character is a slave to the plot, which wouldn't be so bad if the plot were any good.  Doctor Strange seems to have a plan, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he's in collusion with the Disney executives to keep the sequels coming.  Here's the weird thing, I'm looking forward to the next movie (and the one after that), but I'm not necessarily looking forward to the drive home from the theater.

A Star is Born

It's fortuitous that A Star Is Born comes alphabetically just before Avengers: Infinity War, because it gives me the opportunity to examine the shallow end of the pool.  I'll start with this, my review of A Star is Born: 

I have to hand it to Bradley Cooper, the director of, and leading man in A Star is Born; he almost had me convinced that his movie had depth.  Some of the most entertaining movies keep you questioning their value up until the final moments, when the significance of everything preceding it is revealed.  Bradley Cooper made the opposite movie.  I was moved during a scene early in the movie when Bradley Cooper playing a veteran rock star invites his new girlfriend (played by Lady Gaga) onstage to perform a duet.  This scene was moving because Cooper (as a director and an actor) had effectively established each character as sympathetic, and only teased us with their singing ability.  Together they were far better then apart.  If that was the message of the movie, I would have quickly forgiven the cliché, but that's not what this movie is about, it's just the setup.  And believe you me, I'm ok with a depressing movie from time to time, but at least have the decency to own your pessimistic world view...  A Star is Born is a movie about a man with no depth who tries to teach the importance of being true to yourself, whose student has no depth and doesn't get the lesson.  Perhaps there's some irony to be found, but not enough to be worth looking for. 

The moment I previously described from early in the movie when Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga sang together was great, and it was followed by other scenes showcasing their amazing talent.  It's too bad that a certain AA counselor didn't pick up on Cooper's foreshadowing during a speech towards the end of the second act... and he was laying it on pretty thick.  And that's why you should always listen when a rock star is telling you a tragic story from his childhood.

A Quiet Place

I have seen A Quiet Place twice now, which should be sufficient testimony of the film's worth.  I first watched the film because I found the trailer to be intriguing, I was hoping that the necessity for silence would be more than a gimmick, and I was pleased to find that "a quiet place" has a much deeper meaning than the trailer implied.  I was captivated by the complex relationships that were explored in such an interesting and thoughtful way.  I watched the film a second time because the first viewing was a surprisingly uplifting experience. 

A Quiet Place isn't a perfect movie; it follows certain rules of the genre that require the viewer to suspend in-depth logical analysis.  My primary criticism would be with its creatures, while much could be said for the artistic creativity in their production, overall their visual representation was anti-climactic; an unseen terror is far more effective. 

Criticisms aside, A Quiet Place has on of the best "silence breaking moments" in recent history.  I'm referring to a wonderful moment where two characters share one pair of earbuds.  What are your favorite moments like this from other films?

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.