Thursday, March 3, 2022

The sci-fi bromance of “Synchronic”

 

Apart from Moorhead & Benson’s usual focus on cosmic/existential themes, this is a really fine portrait of het male friendship that ducks a lot of cliches. In some ways Steve and Dennis are typically masculine men — they go to a strip club, they razz each other, etc. But each man is also thoughtful and, when it comes down to it, sensitive and willing to show emotion. Basically, they’re platonic life partners. And the film doesn’t shy away from making that clear. Also: I was worried this would be the fancy, shiny, slick movie that broke the spell of the directors’ previous low-budget-y indie winners, but nope — it’s barely slick at all, and well grounded in its New Orleans setting. And like the previous pics it contains a couple of images that really stay with you. For guys this in love with such heady themes, Moorhead & Benson are pretty damn visual filmmakers. It’s a delightful combination. 

I’ve never particularly liked Jamie Dornan in anything before this, but I have to admit he does a good job here. And this is a great role for Anthony Mackie, who gets to show toughness but also cry about a dog. Across Spring, The Endless, and this movie, M&B are underrated masters of intelligent genre fare characterized by genuine curiosity and wonder about what’s known and what isn’t. In other filmmakers’ hands, Mackie’s near-climactic monologue about the preciousness of the present might feel, well, precious. But his performance, the strength of the writing, and everything that’s led up to the scene make it feel, instead, well earned. I still need to see Resolution, and I can’t wait to find out what M&B are doing next!

Monday, February 7, 2022

“Boyhood” hits very close to home


This one is hard for me to throw my arms around. Incredibly poignant for me to watch as the father of a 5½-year-old boy. It is extremely reassuring to see a portrayal of coming of age in which the innocence of early childhood is acknowledged but a teenager, and a boy at that, is depicted as sensitive and thoughtful as well. I know intellectually that the trope that early innocence is inevitably replaced by something darker and worse is nonsense, but I appreciated seeing it debunked so thoroughly. At every stage of life there are joys and sorrows, for the kid growing up and their parents or caregivers and everyone who cares about them. 

I admit I’m afraid of feeling like Patricia Arquette’s character near the end — “I thought there’d be more!” — but all in all this film reinforced my certainty that despite the sacrifices and struggles parenthood always involves, I made the right choice. The messiness of life as a parent, all the poignancy and even the wrenching low points — all are part of what it means to truly be alive and really feel things. I’m risk-averse by nature but married someone who isn’t, and I’m so grateful for that. Taking risks — not every risk, but enough — is essential if life is to be well lived. This movie was on my not-entirely-conscious mental list of films to see before I die, and I’m very glad I have.

Saturday, February 5, 2022

New adventures in genre-bending

Clockwise from upper left: Werewolves Within, 
Love & Monsters, Yellowjackets, and Spontaneous. 

Since 2022 began, I’ve had the good fortune to watch some pretty spectacular examples of genre-bending movies and TV. Wasting no time, on Jan. 4 I saw Spontaneous, which I figured would be good but ended up leaving me a weeping mess. One way a film can genre-bend is by starting out in one place, genre-wise, and ending up somewhere very different. Spontaneous starts with — forgive me — a bang that feels decidedly horror-comedy (specifically, teen comedy with bloody explosions), but by the end it’s been both a coming-of-age drama, an involving sci-fi-ish thing, and a genuinely moving romance, all mixed with some truly artful philosophizing about the importance of taking risks and recognizing life’s transience. 

That’s a lot of lifting for one kicky dark comedy, but thanks to both a brilliant screenplay and the two leads’ lovely performances — though for me Katherine Langford is the beating heart of this movie — it really comes together, and even the crazypants free association of the ending feels earned because of all the great stuff that came before. The scene with Mara and her boyfriend’s mom in the cemetery at night, in its context, is one of the best single scenes I’ve watched in quite some time.

Then there’s Yellowjackets. Unlike with most of what I watch, I didn’t realize at the beginning how far into horror this one would lean. It could have been pitched as “Lost meets Lord of the Flies meets Mean Girls,”  but none of those possible inspirations channels quite the sense of foreboding and menace that Yellowjackets manages to from the jump. That opening scene, of the hunt through some pretty Blair Witch-y woods, stays with you throughout the consistently excellent first season; its themes of brutality, tribalism, and maybe even cultism never really go away, no matter how mundane the settings and situations get. 

There have been countless “flash back/flash forward” movies and series that examine characters in childhood and adulthood along parallel tracks, but Yellowjackets packs a bigger wallop than most in its depiction of trauma’s many and varied aftereffects as well as the pain, guilt, and in some cases ruthlessness that seethe beneath the surface of some people’s polished family lives. Even for those of us who didn’t survive a plane crash and resort to cannibalism and God knows what else, a placid exterior doesn’t mean there isn’t turmoil within. And Yellowjackets does particularly wise work in its exploration of female friendship, which it depicts as capable of both immense strength and alarming fragility. 

Next, Werewolves Within is up-and-comer Josh Ruben’s adaptation of, apparently, a 2016 VR game of the same name? We live in weird times, man. Sam Richardson is terrific as buoyant park ranger Finn Wheeler, and Milana Vayntrub shines as manic-pixie-dream-girl-with-a-dark-side-who-is-also-a-letter-carrier Cecily Moore. (FWIW, for anyone out there with a raging crush on Vayntrub, this movie won’t help you shake it.) By the film’s midsection I began to feel like it wasn’t more than the sum of its parts, which isn’t a huge problem when the parts are funny and diverting. At the same time, I quickly tired of the film’s gay male stereotypes that seemed more rooted in the 2000s than the 2020s, and the requisite band of dumb yokels that surround Richardson and Vayntrub feel a bit worn out, too. 

Compared to Spontaneous, Yellowjackets, and the also excellent Love & Monsters (how many sci-fi comedies feature a male hero choosing peace and empathy over violence in the climactic battle?), Werewolves Within comes across as above-average horror-comedy, but not transcendent — not an all-timer. They can’t all be, though, and if you’re staying in on a snowy February night, you could do a lot worse.

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Top songs of 2018

Behold! My top 12 songs of 2018:



And the honorable mentions*:



*a few of these came out in very late 2017

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Tweaking the watchlist

I keep a running list of horror films I'm interested in. Some are already in circulation; others are coming out soonish. I recently realized that intriguing but ostensibly feel-bad titles like "A Dark Song" and "The Devil's Candy" (both on Netflix) might not be what I'm actually into these days.

I think I went through a phase with horror similar to my trajectory with indie and foreign films: At first, if a film was dark thematically, and maybe even hard to watch at times, it struck me as unquestionably deep. How could it not be? Human suffering, man -- that shit is deep. And since I was doing plenty of suffering, due to a lively combination of anxiety, depression, and disordered eating, I found a lot to relate to in movies like Catherine Breillat's devastating "Fat Girl" (2001), whose shocking ending is one of the few vivid memories I have of it.

These days, life is generally much sunnier for me, despite the chronic sleep deprivation that comes with being the parent of a toddler and working two part-time jobs. My wife is a big fan of genre film and TV, be it science fiction, fantasy, or relatively light horror ("Cabin in the Woods," yes, but probably not "We Are What We Are" or "We Are Still Here"). Much of what we watch together is "genre" in one way or another, though we also share a love of quirky and/or dark comedy ("You're the Worst," "Big Mouth," etc.).

In any case, I'm trying to modify my genre watchlist to reflect what I actually want to see. I just started watching "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri," intrigued by a local filmmaker acquaintance's praise for it and my appreciation of Martin McDonagh's previous work (chiefly "Six Shooter" and "In Bruges"), and though it isn't genre, it's quirky dark comedy, and it's an award winner -- serious cinema, if you will.

I think something that's been missing in my life, along with time to write for this blog and Spokane Faith & Values, is ambitious, "prestige" film. Before my son's birth in June of 2016, I squeezed in a few last Oscar winners, knowing my days of watching what I wanted when I wanted were numbered. Most notably, I watched and loved "Spotlight," "The Big Short," and "Room."

I remember how wonderful it felt to watch these thoughtful, complex movies, which, despite the difficult themes they highlight, I experienced as life-giving and inspiring. Because that's what outstanding, memorable films have always done for me: They've helped me keep believing in the human race rather than cynically focusing on our worst qualities and retreating into misanthropy.

In my view, a species that can artfully and poignantly reflect on its own weaknesses is one that may still have hope of becoming better over time. Especially in the era of Trump, perhaps humanity's most prominent and least inspiring example, I think I need more high-minded, well-crafted film -- whether it's "genre" or not.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

Our robot overlords

Not sufficiently terrified by the now-infamous Boston Dynamics robot dog that can open doors?



In that case, you'll definitely want to check out two short horror films that predict an even gloomier future for us puny humans. It seems we're just lambs to the slaughter once our mechanical, AI-powered Frankenstein's monsters decide they're done putting up with our bullshit and turn on us. But don't take my word for it; see for yourself below!

Blinky™ from Ruairi Robinson on Vimeo.

ABE from Rob McLellan on Vimeo.

Five great arts and culture accounts to follow on Twitter

Mark Harris -- the author of the great nonfiction book "Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of the New Hollywood," which analyzes the 1968 best picture Oscar nominees and extrapolates a whole lot about American society and the entertainment industry -- is funny, informative, and at times righteously indignant about the dangerous nonsense going on in our country.

Sample tweet:


Rahul Kohli, who plays the wry and intrepid Dr. Ravi Chakrabarti on "iZombie," is caustically funny at times, but his tweets also reveal great affection for his co-stars on the show. He and I once had a delightful back-and-forth regarding "iZombie" star Rose McIver's Netflix movie "A Christmas Prince," which the internet hungrily and hilariously devoured last month.

Sample tweet:


"The Big Sick" co-writer and star Kumail Nanjiani‏ is a newer follow for me, but I appreciate his charming sense of humor and sincerity, along with a significant dose of humility, which was particularly evident when he and fellow screenwriter (and wife) Emily Gordon were recently nominated for an Oscar for best original screenplay.

Sample tweet:



My fellow Oberlin College graduate Emily Nussbaum, who now writes for a little magazine called The New Yorker, also happens to be my favorite TV critic. (She penned one of my favorite TV pieces ever, an aptly cutting assessment of "Dexter.") Nussbaum tweets a lot, and often hilariously, about all things pop culture and some things political.

Sample tweet:



Barry Jenkins won an Oscar last year for his "Moonlight" screenplay, and the film itself won the Academy's best picture trophy. Yet the man's Twitter feed is a model of humility; Jenkins largely uses it to amplify other artists' achievements, with particular emphasis on black filmmakers, writers, musicians, etc. For one of the finest directors and screenwriters working today, he seems remarkably, and believably, like an honorable, modest everyguy. But don't be fooled: His cultural observations are far sharper than the average bear's.

Sample tweet: