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.

Star Wars Episode IX

When I was ten years old my family lived on Mare Island, which is where my first memories of discussing Star Wars begin.  The phrase "fan theories" hadn't been coined yet, because nobody had taken movies so seriously before.  Return of the Jedi's finale has sparked more "what happens next" conversations than any other movie ever made.  Luke's journey to becoming a Jedi is barely achieved, and the movie was over.  Han finds out that Leia is available, and the screen wipes to the closing credits.  Light sabers, speederbikes, the Forest of Endor, AT-STs, Chewbacca, and the Millennium Falcon... it was all over too soon.  So we started hearing rumors, and adding our thoughts; maybe we created the stories that evolved into the momentum that made it inevitable that the story would be revisited.  The reason I mention Mare Island, is that there is one distinct memory I have of my friend Brett telling me how the next movie was going to be all about the Empress; Luke, Han, and Leia's kids would have to fight to defeat her.  Good call Brett.

Our house on Mare Island

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 eight nominated films (click any one to go to my review)


A Star Is Born

Blackkklansman

Black Panther

Bohemian Rhapsody

The Favorite

The Green Book

Roma

Vice


Blackkklansman is probably the most deserving.

Bohemian Rhapsody, while formulaic, probably was the most enjoyable film, thanks in large part to the music of Queen.

I wouldn't be surprised if Black Panther wins.

Hopefully this coming year delivers a stronger contingent of contenders.

Vice

Director Adam McKay's inspiration for Vice is clearly any film by Oliver Stone; this is an unabashedly a one-sided depiction of Vice President Cheney's time in office.

That McKay directed 2015's The Big Short isn't surprising, it was a film told with much the same energy and political slant.  What may be more surprising is that McKay directed Anchorman, Talladega Nights, and Step Brothers - maybe it's not so surprising, since he seems more concerned with getting a laugh than actually contributing anything substantive.

Christian Bale leads a cast of excellent actors and actresses who could easily use the caricatures they've created to Saturday Night Live.  There's nothing wrong with that considering this is a Stone-esque dark comedy, but please don't confuse this with dramatic acting.  Well, except for Christian Bale - his Dick Cheney is so much fun to watch that accuracy doesn't really matter.

Roma

Ok, so I watched Roma earlier today, and it was the last of this year's Best Picture films I had to watch.  The first two hours of this film were quite boring, and sometimes painful to watch.  Yet, here is the antithesis film to The Last Samurai - the last ten minutes of this film redeem everything that precedes it.  That's not to say that the first two hours are bad, they're just slow and uninteresting.  I'm not sure that the black and white contributed to the film, except to make it feel like it was from the past.  I'm not sure what airplanes flying overhead at key scenes what meant to signify.  I'm not familiar with the political unrest that was going on in the part of the world where Roma is set during the 1970s.  Honestly the film wasn't compelling enough to make me search for answers to these questions, but at least my final impression of the film is that it was a good one.

The Green Book

Jess and I saw The Green Book just before it was announced as one of this year's Best Picture contenders.  Everything about this film is adequate - I wish that I could say it's better than that.  The title refers to books that were available in the 1930s through 1960s to help black people identify hotels and restaurants that would serve them.  While the film does deal with the racial tensions in the United States during the 1960s, this conflict is simply used as a backdrop to create a challenge that the main characters must overcome.  Unfortunately the historic element feels forced, and is only adequate in its effectiveness in supporting the story.  The director, Peter Farrelly has made some truly stand-out comedies in his career including Dumb and Dumber, Me, Myself & Irene, and There's Something About Mary.  I think The Green Book proves that Farrelly should stick to comedies.  Viggo Mortensen is adequate as the white guy, and Mahershala Ali is adequate as the black guy.  Like I said, it's an adequate film.

The Favourite

I didn’t want to like The Favourite; the tidbits of reviews I was unable to avoid over the past few months led me to believe that this would be a mean-spirited depiction of despicable people from a time period that is of very little interest to me.  My impressions were correct, but in spite of this I found the film to be quite captivating.  In the film, Olivia Colman plays a physically and mentally unstable Queen Anne, who has a twisted relationship with two manipulative women played by Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone.  The title of the film refers to the savage competition between Weisz’s and Stone’s characters to be the queen’s closest confidant.

This is the first film that I’ve seen from director Yorgos Lanthimos, and I must say that he brought a very distinctive style to The Favourite; the deep rich colors in the set design and costumes, the foreboding score, and the ostentatious cinematography all combined to great effect.  Just about every shot is low, looking upwards, giving a somewhat claustrophobic feel to the film; the audience never is on the same level as the characters onscreen.  Wide lenses are used throughout the film, which was distracting at first, but as I became accustomed to the perspective, it became clear that everything in frame had purpose.  It’s actually quite impressive that Lanthimos was able to transition from one subject to another with a smooth wide angle lens pan. 

I cannot in good conscience recommend The Favourite, because it is all the horrible things that I expected it to be, without any redeeming qualities.  It is a well-made, effective film that showcases Hollywood’s obsession with depravity, and a culture that confuses technical mastery with beauty.

First Man

I was intrigued when I heard that Damien Chazelle was directing a film about Neil Armstrong and the events that led up to the first manned moon mission.  Would Chazelle be able to conjure the same energy that rocketed him to the top with Whiplash and La La Land?  Would the clout afforded top Hollywood directors make it possible for him to capture the best space sequences ever filmed?  The short answer is no.  Apollo 13 retains it position atop the list of most compelling space dramas, and to my knowledge holds the title for best rocket launch and space sequences.  That being said, Chazelle's First Man surprised me with a down-to-Earth look at Neil Armstrong.  The film focuses more on Armstrong's relationship with his wife, and their struggle to remain close within the context of a history-defining, seemingly impossible mission.  Ryan Gosling as Neil, and Claire Foy as his wife Janet find the right rhythms in their portrayal of these characters.  Foy's Janet understands how the Neil's mission is important on many levels; it has historical significance, it is her husband's passion, and ultimately it will be a reflection of her too.  Instead of treating a supporting character like a second class citizen, Chazelle emphasizes the importance of being a supportive partner.  A lesser film might suggest that Neil Armstrong's wife made it possible for him to walk on the moon, First Man makes it clear that he wouldn't have made it there without her. 

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald

The Harry Potter film series had its high and low points - Prisoner of Azkaban being the high point, and any game of Quiddich or "wand duel" after the first film being the low points. Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald reaches a new low in the Harry Potter universe; and I'll explain why in the next few sentences.  All the characters are disinteresting (I'm not sure that's really a word), and more than that, the main character is disinterested.  Some of my favorite cinematic protagonists are the reluctant heroes (i.e. any Humphrey Bogart character), but Newt Scamander is so reluctant that I'm somewhat surprised that he even showed up for auditions.  The only clear memory I have of the movie is an extended long awkward moment between Johnny Depp and Jude Law - I believe that one of them is supposed to be playing Dumbledore, and I believe that the scene was meant to be somehow erotic.  But wait, I thought one of these guys is really evil...  Why would a woke Dumbledore fall for the bad guy?  Well nevermind, I'm not really sure why I'm labeling anyone the "bad guy", I can't really remember either of these two character doing anything interesting.  I do remember Newt swimming in some subterranean fish pond, I think he was feeding something, most likely some really fascinating computer-generated mythical creature...  Well that's my review, and now I plan to never think of this movie again.

The Equalizer 2

Director Antoine Fuqua and star Denzel Washington bring a level of professionalism to The Equalizer 2, effectively elevating it above its B-movie source material.  But why do we need professional B-movies?   Some may argue that Quentin Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Kill Bill are glorified B-movies, but they'd be wrong.  Tarantino created a new genre, the homage to B-movies, that rises to the level of a new artform.  Fuqua and Washington are simply making a better B-movie, but it's still just a B-movie.  I do wonder why men who brought us the genre-defining Training Day are making relatively standard revenge flicks.  Perhaps it's for the money, or maybe they genuinely enjoy making these movies.  Personally I'd rather see something a bit more substantive.

Deadpool 2

Why did I see Deadpool 2?

I'm a guy.

Part of me wishes that I could turn my nose up at movies like Deadpool 2 and stay home, sitting by the fireplace drinking a nice glass of Scotch while reading another Graham Greene travel book.

I can't speak to the qualities of Deadpool 2, in the same way that it's impossible to describe the qualities of most popular culture from the last 2264 years.  So really what's the point in writing a review? 

I can say that I laughed at some of the jokes, winced at some of the moments of violence, and marveled at the special effects.  Overall it was another unfulfilling experience at the movies - at least I didn't rack up exorbitant library fines like the last time I read a Graham Greene travel book.

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.