Q2 Review Purge: Volume 3

You saw this coming, didn’t you? Underestimate my backlog once, shame on me. Underestimate my backlog twice, shame on YOU. Here’s the third and final (?) set of mini-mini reviews as I reboot my system and get back on track.

All About My Mother

Year: 1999
Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Cast: Cecilia Roth, Marisa Paredes, Candela Peña
Run Time: 1 hour 41 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

After her son dies, Manuela travels to Barcelona to tell his father, helping an aging actress, a transgender hooker, and a pregnant nun along the way.

You might not be able to tell from that synopsis, but All About My Mother is pure Oscarbait through and through. There was a period in Almodóvar’s career where he was on his hands and knees begging for the Academy to take him seriously, and this film is smack dab in the middle of it. Naturally, it won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film.

Always the staunch Oscar contrarian, I must contest that All About My Mother is far from the director’s best work (winners are rarely as good as their competitors, as evidenced by the fact that his masterpiece Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown lost to Pelle the Conqueror). Although there is some delightful comic relief from the talented transgender actress Antonia San Juan, the movie takes itself way too seriously.

While Almodóvar admittedly crafts some stunning imagers and weaves in a tapestry of parallels between the film’s wide variety of mothers, trying to find the line between reality and fiction, All About My Mother is one of Almodóvar’s few films that feels typical. It might push the envelope with its depiction of gender and sexuality, but it’s just an Oscar tearjerker, yanking its characters through sad sad situations so they can spout elegant monologues at the drop of a hat. Obviously it’s far from a bad movie (I don’t think Almodóvar has made one of those), but it just doesn’t make an impression, which is usually what he’s best at.

Rating: 6/10


Talk to Her

Year: 2002
Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Cast: Rosario Flores, Javier Cámara, Darío Grandinetti
Run Time: 1 hour 52 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

Two men become friends at a hospital while caring for their loved ones, who are both in comas.

If you thought All About My Mother was Oscarbaity, wait till you get a load of Talk to Her! A movie so wildly overbearing that even the Oscars were a little put off, shuffling it into the Best Original Screenplay category, it’s by far the least funny Almodóvar movie I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot at this point. What I admire most about the director is his ability to draw comedy from even the most dire of situations, but here he sets all that aside and doubles down on the sincerity, to muted effect.

It lacks the serene beauty of All About My Mother, though if anything its intricate web of metaphor is even more complex. The film is about transition and metamorphosis, two disparate halves coming together to form a whole. It maybe goes without saying that this theme results in the most f**ked-up Almodóvar relationship yet: the friendship between the lover of a female bullfighter and the lonely stalker of a beautiful young dancer. The queer overtones prevalent in his filmography are almost entirely absent, stripping away all veneer to showcase a story about two people bonding.

Unfortunately, Talk to Her trips over itself in the third act, pointlessly extending the plot for some melodramatic waffling. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence in Almodóvar’s work, but when it lacks so much of his signature style, it also lacks the charm that allows you to cling to the bull’s back. Talk to Her bucks and you go flying, which is an extremely disappointing outcome.

Rating: 6/10


The Lives of Others

Year: 2006
Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
Cast: Ulrich Mühe, Martina Gedeck, Sebastian Koch
Run Time: 2 hour 17 minutes
MPAA Rating: R

An East Berlin secret police agent tasked to bug the apartment of a suspected dissident finds himself wrapped up in the man’s life as he listens from the attic.

Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it, and those who make historical movies are almost always talking about the present. It’s no mistake that The Lives of Others came out during the time of the Patriot Act and America’s surveillance controversy. And it’s certainly no mistake that the film is set in 1984.

The Lives of Others is a thriller about sitting down, about the sociopolitical intrigue that can change lives and enact deaths without stepping out from behind a desk. It’s a terrifying snapshot of a bleak reality that has existed, does exist, and will exist. In essence, it’s a very German film.

However, despite its dour setting and even more dour production design, dripping with greys and mottled greens, The Lives of Others is a story of hope. About the flowers that can grow in the cracks of the concrete. This is thanks in large part to Ulrich Mühe, whose stony visage captures every last chink in his armor as he learns that the people he has been victimizing are actual human beings. The Lives of Others is a terrifying film about bureaucracy and a reassuring one about humankind. It’s not often that something like that comes from a film set in historic Germany (unless Spielberg is involved), and The Lives of Others is a powerful break from the mold.

Rating: 8/10


Star Trek

Year: 2009
Director: J. J. Abrams
Cast: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Simon Pegg
Run Time: 2 hours 7 minutes
MPAA Rating: PG-13

The Star Fleet rebel James T. Kirk finds himself on a stranded student vessel facing the alien threat that killed his father.

I know it’s a popular joke to make fun of J. J. Abrams’ use of lens flares, but I’d never until now experienced them for myself. The legends were true. Star Trek 2009 is an ocular freak show. People have counted, there’s literally a lens flare every 12 seconds on average. It’s like standing on the red carpet at the Oscars for two hours. Every single heroic shot is marred by these hideous distractions. They even go off in quiet, indoor scenes with no discernible light source. The lens flares will make your eyes water far more than any of the drama.

But there’s a movie beneath all that digital tampering, so let’s talk about it. As an origin story for a franchise I have not one shred of nostalgia for, it does a decent job of telling its own story. This could be a movie about James T. Bumblefart overcoming great odds as a cadet, and it would still be a coherent, engaging yarn. And there would be even less reason for Zoe Saldana to be there, because Uhura’s extremely discomfiting romance with Commander Spock happens entirely backstage.

As an exercise in J. J. Abrams crashing his CGI action figures into each other, Star Trek is a fun popcorn adventure, if a little beholden to the Star Wars standby of having important battles take place over yawning chasms. There’s only one scene that reaches the dizzy heights of summer fun I was hoping for (Bones follows Kirk, injecting him with a variety of wacky vaccinations to stabilize him as he attempts to deliver an important message) as the film tends toward the over-serious, but it’s never dull.

And Chris Pine is honestly a terrific choice, giving young Kirk a frat boy braggadocio that puts his flaws on his sleeve while retaining his natural charm. Star Trek’s a swing and a hit, even if it’s not a home run. Those lens flares can rot in Hell.

Rating: 6/10


Mamma Mia!

Year: 2008
Director: Phyllida Lloyd
Cast: Meryl Streep, Pierce Brosnan, Amanda Seyfried
Run Time: 1 hour 48 minutes
MPAA Rating: PG-13

A young woman wants to invite her dad to her wedding on a Greek Isle. Only she doesn’t know which of three men it is, so she invites them all. Then they sing a bunch of ABBA songs.

The Mamma Mia! title card appears as a young girl runs screaming through a cloud of sparkles. That should pretty much tell you all you need to know about it. Mamma Mia! is loud, stupid, deranged, and I love it from the bottom of my heart.

While Mamma Mia! attempts to harness the glittery camp of attending a Broadway musical or a disco show, it frequently swings over the top into wholly unintentional bad-good delight, then back around the horn again into genuine fun. It spins around and around again between these two registers like a gymnast on the horizontal bars, afraid to let go and stick the landing. And stick the landing Mamma Mia! doesn’t, backloading about 90 ballads that suck the energy out of the third act, leaving it so ravaged that not even “Take a Chance On Me” (the most perfect pop song of the 70’s) can resuscitate it.

But despite its sputtering denouement, I love both angles from which Mamma Mia! approaches its content. For all the too-bright lighting that makes every location look like a sitcom set and the herky jerky variance in quality between the celebrity singers (Meryl Streep is at the top with a shockingly good belt, and Pierce Brosnan flounders at the bottom, sounding like Fozzie Bear in the middle of getting his tonsils removed) there’s a genuinely good vin running through it all, like the Greek chorus that resurrects an ancient form of theater to great effect, the bubblegum disco magic of “Super Trouper,” or the beach party sizzle that underscores “Lay All Your Love On Me.”

At the end of the day, Mamma Mia! is a movie that makes me sublimely happy. It is great and it is terrible, frequently at the same time, but it never stops being tremendous fun to watch.

Rating: Please don't make me do this. 7/10? 9/10? 5/10? 9/10. Don't hold me to that.

Last Night

Year: 2010

Director: Massy Tadjedin

Cast: Keira Knightley, Sam Worthington, Eva Mendes

Run Time: 1 hour 33 minutes

MPAA Rating: R

A wife and husband both find themselves faced with the opportunity to cheat while he’s away on a business trip.

Last Night is one of those ponderous indie dramas that’s so excessively low key it would easily have been a TV movie. Or a commercial. With minimal sets, a tiny cast, and an abundance of agonizing close-ups, there’s nothing that screams “feature film.” To be frank there’s nothing to look at whatsoever.

Much like Looking: The Movie, Last Night is mostly composed of a string of conversations rather than any real incident. This is fine, especially when the conversation is as thought-provoking as it is. But the inhuman frankness and eloquence of these conversations make it screamingly apparent that the dialogue is Written. Luckily the actors that perform this series of treatises are well suited to the job.

Keira Knightley and Guillame Canet are a better match than Sam Worthington and Eva Mendes (though Mendes shades a surprising amount of depth onto a thankless sex symbol role), but for the most part Last Night is well-delivered, if coldly intellectual drama.

Rating: 6/10

Word Count: 1882
Reviews In This Series
Star Trek (Abrams, 2009)
Star Trek Beyond (Lin, 2016)

Mamma Mia! (Lloyd, 2008)
Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (Parker, 2018)

I Think We're Alone Now

Year: 2016

Director: Dan Trachtenberg

Cast: John Goodman, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, John Gallagher Jr.

Run Time: 1 hour 43 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Can we all just agree that 10 Cloverfield Lane’s alleged connection to the 2008 found footage monster film Cloverfield is a heap of garbage? That would make the rest of this review a whole lot easier. Put a pin in that title, which sounds more like a sequel to 9 Chickweed Lane anyway. Throw a sheet over the viral marketing campaign. And clear a special place in your septic tank for that snake oil salesman J. J. Abrams’ rickety claim that the films are “blood relatives.” And gag me with a spoon.

There. Now doesn’t that feel better?

In 10 Cloverfield Lane, Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is a young woman on the run from a boyfriend, who runs straight into the arms of somebody much worse. After a car accident, she wakes up in the underground bunker of the surly and intimidating Howard (John Goodman, in his first non-Pixar role as a monster). Howard tells her that there has been an attack on American soil, the air is tainted, and that everybody outside the bunker is dead. Never certain whether or not she should believe the man who is holding her hostage while claiming to have saved her life, he must survive the bunker for as long as possible with Howard and the clueless handyman Emmett (John Gallagher, Jr.) until she can figure it out.

It’s a real Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt story, to be sure.

10 Cloverfield Lane is a small-scale film by necessity. Three actors, a handful of rooms, and the occasional overhead rumble aren’t exactly the stuff of Cecil B. DeMille style epics. However, the film doesn’t suffer for its smallness. Certain conversations in the film begin to chafe at the limited amount of shots available, but these rough patches are thankfully infrequent.

What the intimate setting truly achieves is a constant tension, an unflagging awareness of Michelle’s lack of privacy. She is trapped with a bipolar lunatic, her three-room world a sinister microcosm of the evils hat might be lurking aboveground. She’s pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Of course, none of this atmosphere would be quite as effective without the cornerstone of 10 Cloverfield Lane: John Goodman.

Goodman, of course, is a reasonably well-respected actor despite a rather profound lack of leading roles, but here he proves his worth as an endlessly versatile character actor. He dominates the screen, both with his size and sheer personality, exuding a sinister aura that clings to everything it touches. His shifting, sinister performance is far from over-the-top, which could have derailed such a tiny film, instead lurking in that oh so subtle realm of banal evil.

He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, papering a kind face over a bristling maw of anger that constantly lurks beneath the surface. He’s so compelling, in fact, that even when he’s not onscreen, you can still feel his presence looming omnipotently over every scene. Of course, it helps that he has two solid performers to play off of. Winstead is an ever-reliable genre presence who certainly earns her keep, and Gallagher’s dopey kindness provides an excellent foil, but Goodman is the star of the show and by God he earns it.

That’s what you get for finding a stranger in the Alps.

Goodman may be the crux of this operation, but 10 Cloverfield Lane likewise could not have survived without Ramsey Avery’s production design, a perfect evocation of the film’s peculiar tone. The slick metal and sharp edges of the bunker are softened with an outwardly cheery layer of homey, rustic decoration that contrast both with the harshness of the environs and the aggressive gruffness of Howard. It’s a wickedly playful set, one that exquisitely evokes the same dark sense of humor that produced this incredible pairing of music and material in the trailer.

And while the production design might provide a subtle juxtaposition, the sound design is here to remind us that this film can jar us out of our seats. A perilously indelicate combination of stark silence, far-off rumblings, and in-your-face shrillness, 10 Cloverfield Lane’s soundscape pummels you within an inch of your life. It’s nothing less than abrasive poetry designed to startle and to pummel.

All of these elements collide during the film’s best sequence: A game of Taboo that’s more unsettling than anything that’s been seen in theaters this year. It’s an intricate, successful attempt at combining the film’s best assets in a meticulously-crafted moment that’s simultaneously an unnerving character development, a canny switcheroo, and a genuinely threatening perversion of banal family life. It’s pretty much perfect.

And after that paragraph, I don’t feel so bad airing a couple grievances as we close out this review. Obviously, there’s those back-and-forth conversation scenes that can get a little drab, and a couple scenes repeat the same beats a little too close to each other, but for the most part my only real issue is with a rather crude character arc that Mary Elizabeth Winstead is jammed into. Well, that and a pretty dopey climax.

But that’s not enough to sink what is a very well-constructed ship. 10 Cloverfield Lane is an excellent, original exercise in small-scale psychological drama and it’s a superb way to spend a night out. Try not to come to it with any expectations based on that majestically idiotic title, and you’ll be golden.

TL;DR: 10 Cloverfield Lane is a solid, tense little film.

Rating: 7/10

Word Count: 927

Reviews In This Series

10 Cloverfield Lane (Trachtenberg, 2016)

The Cloverfield Paradox (Onah, 2018)

I Have A Good Feeling About This

Year: 2015

Director: J. J. Abrams

Cast: Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac

Run Time: 2 hours 15 minutes

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Whether or not I liked Star Wars: The Force Awakens is beside the point. The film is well on its way to making enough money to buy its own solar system, so people are clearly seeing it. The question really should be whether or not it’s good enough to deserve the record-obliterating box office it will loudly amass over the course of the next few months. That’s pretty unequivocally a no, considering that nothing short of a film directed by God himself could truly be worthy of that kind of money. But as a three decades later sequel to the single most culturally important film trilogy ever created (prequels? Never heard of ‘em.), it’s still pretty damn terrific.

As the first sequel in forward continuity since 1983, the first Star Wars not to be directed by the increasingly dubious producer/despot George Lucas since 1983, and the first appearance of Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill, and Peter Mayhew (among others) in their original roles since 1983, The Force Awakens is pretty much doomed to thwart the Mount Everest of expectations riding on it. However, when compared to the likes of delayed sequels like Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, Terminator: Genisys, and even Jurassic World, The Force Awakens is a magnum opus of revival cinema, nestling snugly into the universe of its own franchise and always feeling like an organic next step to the story.

Our fridges are safe from nuking.

And now, a bare bones plot summary that attempts to avoid any and all spoilers. What fun this shall be. We start with our three torch-passees, the new blood that will become the backbone of this new trilogy (plus the books, cartoons, multimedia gaming experiences, live shows, and shared universe spin-offs that Disney will inevitably wring from this property): Rey (Daisy Ridley), a tough scavenger who is awaiting her long-departed family on the desert planet Jakku; Fin (John Boyega), a mutinous storm trooper attempting to escape the clutches of the evil First Order; and Poe (Oscar Isaac, freshly shaved after Ex Machina), a Resistance pilot with a cocky attitude and an adorable droid best friend called BB-8, whose merchandise you will have pre-ordered by the time the credits roll.

For a variety of reasons, both willingly and unwillingly, they become a part of the Resistance attack on the First Order, the shadowy eeevil complex that has replaced the Empire. They will have to get past the wicked and ginger General Hux (Domhnall Glesson) and the masked Jedi Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), who are both under the thumb of Supreme Leader Snoke (mocapper extraordinaire Andy Serkis). Who will win? Will these inexperienced youngsters ever become true heroes?

Will I ever be able to pay off those BB-8 related purchases on my credit card bill?

I would like to open by saying that I’ve never been a fanboy for Star Wars. I appreciate the films for what they are, but I’m certainly no ride-or-die, midnight screening, AT-AT pronunciation debating obsessive. I in no way felt obligated to like The Force Awakens, so you can imagine my surprise when I kind of loved it. It has its share of deficiencies, and we’ll get to that, but for the time being let’s bask in the triumph of this seventh Star Wars entry easily settling into the consensus-approved third best slot in the franchise.

One of the best things about The Force Awakens is that, while it is absolutely a nostalgia trip, it remains entirely modern and individualized. It engages with the original story, characters, and technology, but it’s not a clip show. We don’t see our heroes jetting off to pick up MacGuffins on Hoth or Tatooine, and you certainly don’t see them paying a visit to the Ewoks on Endor or sifting through Trade Federation file cabinets on Naboo. Some planets might be more than a little reminiscent of previous locales, but The Force Awakens keeps its gaze firmly forward. The returning characters do have some catching up to do, but their plot lines revolve around the present consequences of their past lives, not sitting around looking at scrapbooks of the good ol’ days. That was a long time ago.

In a galaxy far, far away.

In fact, the new characters and material are frequently where the film works best. The dialogue is a little more winking and modern than some fans will appreciate, but the character dynamics they build are tremendously effective. Oscar Isaac’s Poe is easily the most charismatic star-making performance, but Ridley and Boyega miraculously hold their own in an arena a million times more epic than their entire filmographies combined, each developing meaningful relationships with old and new cast members alike.

Also, major kudos to the villain casting department. I never in my wildest peyote dreams would have suggested the douche from Girls and the wimpy ginger from Ex Machina as sneering baddies, but it undeniably works. They don’t get to flex their muscles fully here, presumably reserving the First Order’s bigger firepower for the sequels, but both get their moment in the sun, Gleeson in a deliciously terrifying more-than-a-little Nazi-esque speech, and driver in a few scenes of vulnerable intensity that even overpower the script’s tritest nuggets, all of which seem to get dumped over his lusciously-locked head. The only bum note is Andy Serkis’ Stoke, who embodies a woefully blah brand of Disney villainy.

Even Thanos must be a little embarrassed for him.

Speaking of Guardians of the Galaxy, The Force Awakens is actually extremely similar to that Marvel-Disney triumph. It makes a name for itself with colorful characters, playful dialogue, and rip-roarin’ action sequences, all of which are thickly plastered over one of the most thinly generic plots a couple hundred million dollars can buy. I mean, really? [Medium Spoilers Another, slightly larger Death Star? Color me unsurprised.] Dumb and Dumber To had a more complex throughline. Now, I’m not saying that a typical plot sinks this movie, but the story is just a heap of radio serial boilerplate and is certainly not one of the many numbers of reasons to see The Force Awakens.

Between the tissue paper-thin story structure and a couple stunted character arcs that are clearly looking to unfold in the long term but give nothing to the current film, I can confidently conclude that The Force Awakens is not a masterpiece. However, if things go well, I can completely see this as the dazzling but inferior A New Hope to Episode VIII’s triumphantly gigantic Empire Strikes Back. Obviously I don’t know what’s in store for us on that front, but this is a great film with room for huge improvement. I honestly think that’s the best place for the franchise to land at this point.

At any rate, Star Wars is back! I didn’t know it was possible, but we’ve finally returned to that grand, adventurous space opera in style. With all the grubby detail and cosmic swashbuckling of the original films, hitched on to a totally current slate of character diversity, adrenalized banter, universe expansion, and cute as hell droidsmanship, the franchise is finally back on solid ground after decades of aimlessly drifting through the inky void.

TL;DR: Star Wars: The Force Awakens is a simple but inviting story that returns to the Star Wars universe with style.
Rating: 8/10
Word Count: 1246
Reviews In This Series
Star Wars (Lucas, 1977)
Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (Kershner, 1980)
Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (Marquand, 1983)
Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (Abrams, 2015)
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (Edwards, 2016)
Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (Johnson, 2017)
Solo: A Star Wars Story (Howard, 2018)