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Stick To The Script: 'Sorry To Bother You' Revisited

January 27, 2023 by AJ Mijares

Radical market swings … wage inequality … the deterioration of the middle class … conversations about capitalism have only become more fraught in the five years since Sorry To Bother You first premiered at the 2018 Sundance Film Festival. Firebrand social activist/first-time filmmaker Boots Riley sidestepped the modesty of most directorial debuts and burst onto the scene with a bold, defiant satire that amplified a wide range of social criticisms that have become more ubiquitous in modern culture.

The film introduces us to Cassius “Cash” Green (Lakeith Stanfield), an existentially-minded young black man from Oakland struggling to afford rent and find a sustainable means of income. After landing a gig as a telemarketer, he’s thrust into a bizarre web of conspiracy as he climbs the corporate ladder. Playful in nature, the film’s flamboyant edge has a funhouse mirror-like quality that distorts reality while calling attention to the flaws inherent in the way infrastructures decide how power is allocated in America.

Since 2018, these unfortunate truths have spilled deeper into our national discourse, shedding light on the uneven distribution of wealth in American society, especially with respect to marginalized communities. It’s resulted in an increased awareness around institutionalized racism, gentrification, and predatory work ethics — all recurring motifs that are targeted in Boots Riley’s Sorry To Bother You, an absurdist comedy with alarming relevance in 2023.


“In trying to avoid cliché, I realized that if I bent the reality of the world, it actually drew attention to that parallel point in our actual reality.”

Boots Riley | TIME


The madcap odyssey begins at the threshold of RegalView, a crusty marketing firm with a small office ambiance set by dull aesthetic composition: walls coated in a revolting shade of blue, whiteboard scrawled with daily metrics and bad motivational quotes, and an antiquated coffee dispenser — pay per cup, of course. During work hours, the energy buzzes around columns of cramped cubicles populated by a swarm of entry-level staffers. They grind out forty hours a week, cold-calling prospects to sell an assortment of solutions supplied by a controversial labor-for-housing enterprise known as WorryFree.

To fully grasp the scope of their profession, one must learn the implicit understandings embedded in the culture of telemarketing. When your paycheck depends on an unwelcomed phone call, you need to forge a vocal identity that sometimes demands certain aspects of your individualism be suppressed, or risk facing the cold sting of rejection. Especially so in such disproportionately non-diverse environments, in accordance to a 2021 study by the Bureau of Labor Statistics which shows that 78% of sales professionals are white, compared to the nominal 18% who are Latinx, 13% black, and 5% Asian.

After Cash settles in and struggles to find his groove, he embellishes an overly cheerful white accent (voiced by David Cross) at the suggestion of an older co-worker played by Danny Glover. This proves highly profitable for Cash; but by suppressing a strand of his own identity, he unwittingly surrenders the rights to his own humanity, an illustration of the film’s foundational thesis that argues the existence of a rapidly dissolving line that separates commerce and slavery.

This provocative idea comes to fruition in a shocking third-act revelation when our protagonist is invited to a mansion party hosted by WorryFree’s coke-addled CEO, played by Armie Hammer. While searching for the bathroom, Cash descends into a mysterious laboratory only to find workers that have been subjected to cruel experimentation, turning them into equisapiens, or human-horse hybrids. Although a little on-the-nose, this gonzo distortion of realism bends our perspectives around the oppressive nature of capitalism, especially with regard to disenfranchised classes.


While Sorry To Bother You is best described as an absurdist comedy, the equisapiens are tragic figures that are reminiscent of “body horror”, a subgenre that explores sympathetic creatures with grotesque features. Often examining people who enter a downward spiral after suffering hideous physical transformations, the subgenre’s imagery functions as an allegory for the fear of unintended ways that circumstances can mis-shape us.

Despite its playful energy, the film has deeper intentions rooted in this pairing of genres. Consider the equisapiens; after being forced to undergo cruel operations by an employer that promised housing in exchange for grunt labor, they become caricatures of real-life victims in the fight for equality in the workplace, a symbol for the working class. This amplifies the core tension of Sorry To Bother You between the few in charge and the rest whose lives depend on a steady income. The latter is represented cinematically by supporting character Squeeze (Steven Yeun), a pro-union reformist.

After befriending Cash at RegalView, Squeeze sparks a revolution by organizing a group to advocate for wage increases and benefits packages for everyone on the payroll. This movement echoes with relevance in today’s society amid greater awareness surrounding the steeper-than-ever costs of living and the companies who fail to pay their workers accordingly. In taking such an aggressive stance against corporate toxicity, Riley injected Sorry To Bother You with an intense desire to reimagine the working class experience and frame it within the context of his work.


“You’re not going to change any of this by yourself. You’re not going to change it by making a cute art statement, you’re not going to change it by just figuring out how to be there, to do something that gives you more power on your own. You have to join with other people and make a movement.”

Boots Riley | Vox


As a protagonist, Cash has his own share of shortcomings. By appeasing his corporate executives and climbing the proverbial ladder, he reaps the benefits of “Power Caller” status despite urges from friends and colleagues to help them make a difference at RegalView. Regardless, the film takes measures to depict him as a figure worth your sympathy, a man caught in the crossfire between two conflicting ideologies.

Cash’s guide to recognizing this harsh truth is his girlfriend Detroit, played by Tessa Thompson, who during a contentious argument, points out the uncharacteristic traits he’s exhibited since becoming a Power Caller. Being a performance artist herself, Detroit is no stranger to betraying core principles for money; in a moment of weakness, Cash belittles her creative pursuits as “selling art to rich people”, an allegation that comes full circle at her latest showcase.

Entitled The New Fuck You, Detroit’s interactive art piece finds her onstage half-naked, reciting movie dialogue in a posh British accent while spectators throw blood balloons at her. While it pokes fun at the pretentiousness of modern art, it also spotlights the prevalence of sell-out culture in modern America. While society hurtles toward a future that prioritizes money over morals, Cash and Detroit are two flipsides of the same coin who do what they must in order to get by. By abstracting this cultural observation and fitting it to a world with exaggerated features, it allows us to see the nexus point in our own illogical timeline.


Toggling between surrealist humor and thought-provoking insight, Sorry To Bother You is a satire whose skewed realism has proven itself ahead of its time. Surveying the landscape of movies in 2023, the heightened sense of real-world panic has given way to a rise of escapist entertainment that ascends the boundaries of our own reality. From Jordan Peele’s Nope to the Academy Award-nominated Everything, Everywhere, All At Once, we live in a time where art reflects an existential worry masked with the boundless comforts of imagination.

In the footsteps of fellow Sundance filmmakers who came before him, Boots Riley blazed a path in a unilateral industry by pledging himself to unwavering originality. Over the span of five years, Sorry To Bother You has amassed a cult following and a renewed interest in the ways it dissected the landscape of American work culture. With a punk rock demeanor, it’s a supersonic rejection of norms and hierarchy that urges viewers to think more critically about the systems in place.

Next | Animal Instincts: The Mind Of Darren Aronofsky
January 27, 2023 /AJ Mijares
Sorry To Bother You, Lakeith Stanfield, Boots Riley, Tessa Thompson, Armie Hammer, Comedy, Film, Movies, Review
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The Hits & Misses Of 2022: A Year-End Review

December 31, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Lists

For movie enthusiasts, 2022 was a grab-bag of scattered highlights. From tentpole blockbusters to finespun festival darlings to the long-awaited return of our favorite band of jackasses, this year has produced a multitude of cinematic expressions ranging from the highest calibers of art to the lowest brows imaginable.

As the instant streaming model continues to disrupt theatrical rollout strategies, diminishing COVID fears and mounting resentment over the monopolization of VOD platforms has helped stage a pushback in the opposing direction. Sales from domestic ticket revenue have risen over the last year, projecting $7.4 billion in domestic returns, with much credit to massive franchise players like Top Gun: Maverick, Jurassic World: Dominion, and a few surprise hits.

There’s a long road ahead in repairing what was lost in the pandemic, but this year gave us hope we can cling to and highlights that far eclipse the lowlights. Since I wasn’t able to write about everything I’ve seen this year, here’s a postmortem of the highs and lows on my 2022 long list.


Hit:
Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinnochio

As a visionary who interprets the harshest truths of the real world through a dazzling kaleidoscope of myth and fairy tale fable, Guillermo Del Toro approaches Pinocchio as a dark, handcrafted fantasy that chronicles Italy during the First Great War and the rise of fascism.

Inspired by Walt Disney’s benchmark of 1940s animation, Del Toro’s iteration tells the story of an aging Geppetto and his wooden boy, whose naive tendencies often find him in precarious situations. With the world on the brink of global conflict, Pinocchio must make the ultimate sacrifice to find out what it means to have a heart.

Coming just one year after his Oscar-nominated noir thriller Nightmare Alley, Guillermo Del Toro delivers an immaculate experience with Pinocchio. Given free reign over his passion project by Netflix, this stop-motion animated feature evokes shades of his 2006 classic Pan’s Labyrinth in how it explores the grim realities of fascism through the wonderous lens of a fairy tale.


Miss:
Angus MacLane’s Lightyear

To admit you didn’t enjoy Lightyear is to compartmentalize your lifelong adoration for the Toy Story franchise. In the 27 years since our first meeting with the intrepid spaceman, Disney’s creative priorities have shifted away from innovations in animated storytelling. Makes sense from a business perspective; in today’s competitive climate, there’s less risk in rehashing a formula they helped pioneer rather than taking a swing at something entirely new.

In stark contrast with Pinocchio, Angus MacLane’s Lightyear is an emotionally vacant return to Pixar’s most cherished property with a revisionist take on the iconic space ranger that expands his backstory but abandons the emotional weight behind its original concept. What began as a heartwarming tale about toys finding their purpose becomes a cosmic clutter of visual effects and labored execution that leaves audiences feeling manipulated by its force-fed character development.


Hit:
Claire Denis’ Stars At Noon

Perhaps the most spellbinding spy thriller in years, Stars At Noon trades in its golden gun for a stylish, immaculate vibe with kinetic energy and a lounge jazz score. Despite its arresting visuals, it’s deliberately written to frustrate viewers who expect it to hold any hands through its elusive storyline.

Rather than cloning the framework of James Bond, legendary French filmmaker Claire Denis interprets the 1986 novel by Denis Johnson as a sleek, sexy arthouse film driven not by a straightforward narrative, but by the sheer sensual magnetism between its co-leads Margaret Qualley and Joe Alwyn.

Taking place in Nicaragua during a period of civil unrest, the film’s espionage component is the free-flowing undercurrent of a budding romance between Trish and Daniel, one a journalist stranded behind enemy lines, the other an intelligence operative carrying out a deadly mission. With no plot contrivances, we’re inevitably swept up in Stars At Noon’s orbit and held firmly by Denis’ powerful direction that paints the humidity of South America with youthful radiance and seductive bewilderment.


Miss:
Olivia Wilde’s Don’t Worry Darling

Cheap shots and media headlines aside, Don’t Worry Darling was postured for potential greatness. All the pieces were in place: Olivia Wilde gave us reason to anticipate her follow-up to Booksmart, Florence Pugh’s cumulative track record was pristine, and pop icon Harry Styles did a good job occupying the limited space he was given in Dunkirk.

Although there are some highlights to mention, specifically Chris Pine’s subtle intensity as the film’s antagonist and the post-war era production design by Katie Byron, Don’t Worry Darling’s fatal flaw is in the structural integrity. Rather than its protagonist Alice, the script is only in service to its shakey third-act twist that suffers from deathly self-seriousness. Without proper context and clear motivations, audiences are unable to get a clear understanding of its heroine or her struggle against the shadowy order at the helm of its sun-bleached dystopian setting.


Hit:
Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert’s Everything, Everywhere, All At Once

With culture approaching a stalemate in the ongoing saga of live-action superhero movies, this cult sensation restored our faith in the multiverse as a sprawling playground of imagination when paired with the right choreography, detailed character development, original humor, cultural resonance, and well-rendered sentimentality.

Everything, Everywhere, All At Once is an eccentric sci-fi action adventure that follows a struggling Chinese matriarch (Michelle Yeoh) on a collision course with destiny as she confronts her financial woes, a failing marriage, and a strained relationship with her daughter all while on a daring journey through the multiverse.

Striking perfect harmony in the margins between action, heart, and absurdity, Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert’s film finds elasticity in the framework of genre and obliterates all expectations for what a multiverse movie still can do. With a total devotion to creativity, Everything, Everywhere, All At Once attempts to reclaim and redefine a subgenre whose tropes we’ve grown desensitized to.


Miss:
Sam Raimi’s Doctor Strange In The Multiverse Of Madness

Heading into the new year, Disney’s Marvel Studios continues to rank among the highest-earning production companies, despite the massive dip in critical approval. The studio also found itself embroiled in controversy after numerous visual effects artists have come forward with their stories about worsening labor conditions and the churn-and-burn mentality that Disney has imposed for their cash cow franchise.

Among them is the sequel to Doctor Strange which finds horror legend Sam Raimi back in the director’s chair. While he displays a mastery of skill at creating set pieces that remind us of his roots, the scope of the story’s ambition ditches the organically scrappy vision that made Spider-Man 2 such a fun and campy superhero romp. Instead, his style becomes sidelined and eventually derailed by the contrivances of the studio’s multiversal plot element.


Hit:
Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees Of Inisherin

Finding humor in dark places is a lifelong project for the playwright-turned-filmmaker Martin McDonagh. Re-teaming with his leads from In Bruges, McDonagh weaves this masterful folk tale about two best friends in a rustic lake town who abandon their long-standing alliance to enter a grisly and unexpected blood feud during the Irish Civil War.

Banshees Of Inisherin is a tightly coiled dramedy that makes the most of its lead performances from Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson, one being the lovable dimwit, the other a tortured artist who finds himself at a crossroads. By dealing out shock and wit in equal but contrary measures, McDonagh provides sobering reflections on the irresolvability of conflict and the impermanence of legacy.


Miss:
Robert Eggers’ The Northman

Following the acclaim of his first two feature films, Robert Eggers has earned his place as one of the most talented young voices in cinema today. The Witch and The Lighthouse floored audiences with the degree of historical texture he applies to genre filmmaking. Though he’s an expert in authenticity, he gets lost in the weeds of a perplexing script with his Viking revenge epic The Northman.

The mud-and-bloodsoaked action movie tracks the fearless odyssey of a Norse warrior (Alexander Skarsgard) on a relentless quest to get revenge on the uncle (Claes Bang) who murdered his father and usurped his throne many years ago. With an unassailable premise, The Northman overcomplicates things by swerving into a mystifying realm of spiritual psychedelia. Perhaps expectations just didn’t align, but Eggers’ latest was a surprising letdown that feels like Hamlet on bath salts.


Hit:
David Cronenberg’s Crimes Of The Future

Advancements in biotechnology and human evolution are the dueling forces at play in this mind-bending sci-fi trip from David Cronenberg, the ruling monarch of body horror. Returning to the subgenre he helped establish, Crimes Of The Future is one of the most disturbing moviegoing experiences of 2022.

The film picks up in a timeline where mankind is forced to adapt to the omnipresence of microplastics by miraculously growing new organs. Seen through a performance artist’s (Viggo Mortensen) morbid act of showcasing his own live surgeries, the artist’s death-defying act will attempt to bridge the gap between art and empirical science in an age where “surgery is the new sex”.

From Scanners to Eastern Promises, David Cronenberg is one of the last surviving pioneers of dangerous cinema. This stylized neo-noir isn’t without its imperfections, but its cinematic value lies in Cronenberg’s uniquely calibrated eye for peerless production design. Its aesthetic is futuristic but unmistakably body horror, all constructed practically, which pushes the boundaries of the medium to a gold standard he himself set over 40 years prior.


Miss:
Alex Garland’s Men

There are very few filmmakers with such a high ceiling for greatness, they’re granted “hall passes” by disciples of their work. Like writer-director Alex Garland, who has amassed a fiercely loyal fanbase after his involvement in such contemporary sci-fi classics as 28 Days Later, Dredd, Ex Machina, and Annihilation. In spite of his outstanding track record, his latest film Men was a fumbling psychological puzzle whose pieces don’t ultimately align.

Starring Jessie Buckley and Rory Kinnear in a pair of key roles, Men is a hallucinatory thriller about a woman who embarks on a remote getaway after enduring tragedy, only to find a strange local man who harbors a dreadful secret. Using equal parts melodrama and psychological horror, the total sum of Men delivers flashes of impressive filmmaking but ultimately fails to set up an appropriate sense of resolution. Even its powerful, unsettling atmosphere can’t rectify Garland’s inane script that explores the inherent oneness of toxic masculinity, but trips itself up with its own lofty ambition.


Hit:
James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way Of Water

The long-awaited sequel to James Cameron’s epic plunges you into the deep blue oceans of Pandora, a dazzling world that broke ground in its technical sophistication and total box office gross over 13 years ago. But what sets this installment apart isn’t just its robust visuals, but the bracing reminder of Cameron’s roots as an action movie director. And a damn good one, at that.

The Way Of Water finds the fully assimilated Sullivan clan seeking refuge in the oceanic realms of Pandora with an aquatic race of Na’vi, where a dangerous confrontation brews against a merciless fleet of Space Marines. It parallels Titanic, a movie that runs long in stretches but pays off with a barn-burner third act, whose jaw-dropping set pieces fill the big screen with lush bursts of color and fury and chaos.

As he’s known to do, Cameron also expands the horizons within the universe of Pandora, teeming with life both big and small. From darting schools of minnow fish to massive, sentient whale-like creatures, Avatar: The Way Of Water is a showcase in world-building whose recent crossing of $1 billion at the global box office is a proud vindication of Cameron’s seismic contributions to the history of breathtaking cinema.


Miss:
Joe and Anthony Russo’s The Gray Man

Don’t be fooled by the name; there’s nothing gray about this gaudy spy flick starring Ryan Gosling, Ana De Armas, and Chris Evans that made Netflix history as their most expensive project to date, clocking in a staggering budget of $200 million. Directed by Joe and Anthony Russo, The Gray Man is a mediocre send-up of the espionage subgenre that, despite some visual flair, falls flat as a standalone action movie.

In the genre’s landscape post The Raid and John Wick, it’s easy to notice The Gray Man’s action sequences that are chopped together in jarring, spastic rhythms. With no sense of combat staging and action choreography, it’s hard to follow along with the visual feast the film attempts to offer its viewers. It may be pretty to look at, but the Russos’ latest comes across more like a Fast and Furious movie without an emotional investment in the characters.


Hit:
Todd Field’s TÁR

The drama of TÁR is human in nature but massive in the scope of its questions. Todd Field’s exquisite script examines polarizing issues through the eyes of Lydia Tár, a world-renowned symphony composer who’s rocked by a scandal that threatens her prestige in the public and personal eye.

This powerfully relevant drama walks the balance beam of modern life by painting a fair depiction of her psychological erosion as the world around her begins to question the content of her character. In an ever-changing world that begs a total reconsideration over how we define the endurance of legacy, TÁR begs audiences to ponder the question: can we ever truly separate the art from the artist?

The film’s nucleus is the career-defining heel turn from Cate Blanchette as its egocentric anti-hero Lydia Tár. She plays the part to absolute perfection, with many not realizing she wasn’t actually based on a real person. With award season well underway, Blanchette is poised for overwhelming recognition.


Miss:
Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans

From unwarranted reboots to the revival of Kate Bush, nostalgia is the primary force driving most entertainment in the 21st Century. As the streaming model puts a huge question mark on the future of cinema, a new trend has emerged that finds filmmakers recapturing the dramatic essence of their childhood.

In recent examples like Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast and Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun, these cinematic period pieces explore a wide swath of emotions that feel tenderly excavated from the filmmaker’s past. Though they generally find universal acclaim, few have been bogged down by the glaring presence of hyper-melodrama like Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans.

For someone like Spielberg who has mastered the language of film, every stylistic choice that defines his signature style feels weirdly out of place in a movie so personal to his own life. Outlining an assortment of personal struggles including his Jewish American heritage and the dissolution of his parent’s marriage, the bloated melodrama undercuts some astounding performances with an exaggerated romanticization that better suits his less intimate work.


NEXT | Top 10 Movies Of 2021 (And Where To Find Them)
December 31, 2022 /AJ Mijares
2022, Film, Movies, Review, Avatar, The Way Of Water, The Northman, TAR, Pinocchio, Lightyear, Marvel, The Gray Man, The Fabelmans
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Animal Instincts: The Mind of Darren Aronofsky

December 05, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Deep Dives

There are endless ways to unpack heavy themes using metaphor in movies. Just like James Cameron employs the Terminator to examine our reliance on technology, Darren Aronofsky uses animals to expose the heart of human frailty. From black swans to ‘roid-raging rams, his protagonists are spiritually vulnerable outcasts on a quest to reclaim the humanity within—or die trying.

This high-concept storytelling device can be traced back to ancient theological texts like the Bible and the Book of Enoch, both of which depict animals allegorically to represent the many spectrums of human nature. Some of Aronofsky’s films even tackle these subjects head-on, such as 2014’s Noah and 2017’s Mother!

With this in mind, the acclaimed filmmaker returns to big screens on December 9th with a poignant drama unsurprisingly titled The Whale. Premiering at the Venice Film Festival, Aronofsky’s latest was met with overwhelming praise for Brendan Fraser, the once-luminous star you might remember from The Mummy and Encino Man. His towering performance as the film’s protagonist Charlie has been widely regarded as the resurrection of his career, although many critics have condemned Aronofsky’s portrayal as empty and stigmatizing.

To provide further context, The Whale follows a 600 lb. gay man who attempts to rekindle a relationship with his estranged teenage daughter (Sadie Sink) amid growing health concerns. For those familiar with Aronofsky’s movies, it’s clear that he’s drawn toward the provocative side of human drama. From eerie tales of corrosive ambition to gut-wrenching tragedies about drug addiction, his films are deeply immersive character studies that seek to unspool the mortal coil.


“It is often said of directors that they are control freaks. Aronofsky goes one better: He’s a loss-of-control freak. His films are immaculately calibrated surrenders in which his heroes splinter and break upon the rocks of their own consuming obsessions.”

Tom Shone | New York Magazine


Aronofsky stormed onto the indie scene in 1998 with his debut film Pi, a low budget black-and-white thriller that assured his reputation as a scrappy new writer-director with craft and preternatural vision. It shined a light on his uncanny talent for creating stylish thrillers with layered psychological depth on a modest budget, the core virtues that would eventually define his trademark.

Just like his heroes Stanley Kubrick and Terry Gilliam, his movies often begin and end with the human mind. They follow outcasts whose obsessive tendencies lead them into pits of self-destruction. As they fight to claw back every inch of hope that once gave them equilibrium, they yearn for a fulfillment that’s just out of reach.

For Pi’s protagonist Max Cohen, that fulfillment comes in the form of his fixation on the mathematical patterns found in daily life. As a reclusive soul who can only understand human behavior through the lens of his own obsession, the film does a phenomenal job detailing his gradual descent when he comes upon a discovery that uncoils his neurotic existence.

Through word of mouth, the film became an object of cult fascination and the first film ever to be downloaded for sale on the internet. With all its scrappy 90s intrigue, Pi established the template for Aronofsky’s filmmaking career, igniting a fuse that sparked well into the following century.


“For me, the promise of independent film is the ability to experiment. Because the money is independent. I think the best way to get recognition is to do something out there, to push the edges. Unless you hit it — and do something traditional really well, it’s going to be nothing.”

Darren Aronofsky | IndieWire


With his confidence as a filmmaker blooming, Aronofsky scaled up his vision for a stylish sophomore feature entitled Requiem For A Dream, a film you probably recognize for its notoriety as the greatest anti-drug PSA ever committed to film. This crushing adaptation of a novel by Hubert Selby Jr. follows a trio of heroin addicts in New York City whose personal aspirations are blurred when their reliance becomes increasingly dire.

While its crippling depiction of drug culture makes Euphoria look like Paddington in comparison, the film’s key takeaway is its underlying humanity. Where Pi follows an antisocial recluse, Requiem For A Dream observes characters from up close that an audience will inherently empathize with; in spite of their imperfections, they have motivations and backstories that establish a grounded sense of three-dimensionality.

Since the film’s pathos hinges on humanity, Aronofsky avoids depicting his characters as burnouts or degenerates. Instead of distancing the audience, he’d rather lure us into the cockpit of their headspace and tighten the throttle, even after they’ve spun out with an inevitable chance of impact. He’d go on to repeat this gritty psychological approach with films like Black Swan and The Wrestler.


For someone with such a conscious understanding of human nature, it’s curious that spiritualism is a recurring theme in Aronofsky’s work, especially given his agnostic beliefs around subjects of faith. Religious motifs such as original sin, divinity, immortality, betrayal, redemption, and finding life’s meaning are central themes of his more fabled works in the spiritual triptych of The Fountain, Noah, and Mother!

In some respects, he’s the perfect guide to ferry us through such vast topics; with an impartial baseline, Aronofsky translates the fantasy of religious myth as a function of the human psyche. Perhaps best illustrated in 2006’s The Fountain, the story chronicles one man’s (Hugh Jackman) sprawling cosmic quest to defy mortality and find the key to eternal life.

Boasting a $35 million budget, The Fountain was a monumental stretch in Aronofsky’s scope and creative capability as the first studio-funded feature after his two introductory films. Thanks to some impressive art direction, its visual language is one of splendor, cosmic beauty, and vibrant colors that complement the overall breadth of the story he’s ultimately trying to tell.

Despite its trio of parallel narratives, the film’s structure bears resemblance to an ancient parable with an overarching theme: natural law will always prevail over man’s attempts to defy mortality. By establishing an allegory of mankind seeking immortal wisdom, Aronofsky’s epic fantasy highlights our primal fear of universal forces and ultimately results in a powerful tale about finding acceptance in the face of inevitability.


For Darren Aronofsky, the underlining principles of his films run parallel to his personal beliefs as an avid environmentalist. Being an outspoken advocate for animal rights, it’s no wonder he finds ways to incorporate them into his work so organically. From his intimate human portraits to his bold sweeping epics, animals are the symbolic expressions of Aronofsky’s deeper meditations on human psychology.

For Black Swan’s protagonist Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), the title creature represents more than just a part she’s trying to attain. As a ballet dancer in New York’s most prestigious and competitive dance company, perfection is a non-negotiable condition. In order to perform at the highest levels, Nina must embrace her long-suppressed darkness and abandon her inhibitions—no matter the toll it exacts on her mental stability. Aronofsky’s career-defining thriller is an immersive plunge into the mind of a dancer with ambition that’s all-consuming.

Two years prior, he took a similar approach to The Wrestler, a vérité sports drama that follows Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Mickey Rourke), a faded icon of 80s pro wrestling that hits an existential crossroads after suffering a massive heart attack. The Wrestler is an intimate character study that humanizes Ram as a big-hearted brute with invasive anxieties about dwindling relevance, steroid addiction, poverty, loneliness, and regret over the strained relationship he shares with his estranged daughter.

On the other end of the scale, Aronofsky’s 2014 Biblical adaptation Noah is a magnificent tale that uses animals to express purity. As a filmmaker who normally focuses on smaller stories, Aronofsky took a sharp turn into the massive world of creation mythology. In Noah, the filmmaker depicts its protagonist (Russell Crowe) as a man of steadfast faith who obeys a calling to escape a doomed planet that has forsaken its place in the collective consciousness by killing animals for sport and sustenance. By taking a Sunday School story and beaming it through a lens of staunch humanitarianism, Noah is a grounded yet epic distillation of Aronofsky’s truest aim as a filmmaker.


“I got connected to the story in such a deep way when I was in seventh grade. I had this English teacher. One day, she said, ‘Everybody take out a pen and paper, and write something about peace.’ I wrote a poem called ‘The Dove’ about Noah. Turned out, it was a contest for the United Nations and I ended up winning the contest and reading the poem at a U.N. convention a few weeks later. It was the first time I perceived myself as a storyteller.”

Darren Aronofsky | Washington Post


It’s easy to watch Aronofsky’s films and not see past the surface level downer-ism of bleaker stories like Requiem For A Dream. But there’s a visible poise at play that invites audiences to explore someone else’s headspace with unfettered access. In doing so, he challenges audiences to watch actively by thinking how his characters think and feeling what they feel when placed in their own respective hell, regardless of scale or budget.

As we eagerly await the arrival of The Whale this Friday, it might help to re-frame your viewing experience by putting it into context with the rest of his canon. As a master of depicting headspace, Aronofsky invites audiences to follow along through an uphill struggle that will help his characters find their own interpretations of humanity.

NEXT | Big Draws and Monkey Paws: The Meteoric Rise of Jordan Peele
December 05, 2022 /AJ Mijares
Film, Reviews, Movies, Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan, The Wrestler, Requiem For A Dream, The Whale
Deep Dives

Big Draws and Monkey Paws: The Meteoric Rise of Jordan Peele

August 19, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Deep Dives

Not too long ago, the thought of a sketch comedian writing and directing horror was inconceivable. After all, they’re completely different genres in two separate lanes with so little in common. Naturally, no one could have expected the outcome when Jordan Peele announced his move from an award-winning series into feature filmmaking. Yet here we are; five years into his creative odyssey, Peele’s work continues to excite, disrupt, and ultimately mystify.

Examining Peele’s prior work, it makes sense how his background in comedy helped shape his vision as a filmmaker. Immersing himself in a genre defined by extremity, his past work on Mad TV and Key & Peele molded his mastery at identifying archetypes and weaving them into exaggerated circumstances.

Clearly, he was really good at it; winning an Emmy for his work in sketch comedy, Peele’s prominence was elite as a writer/performer. Despite being draped in preposterous wigs, dressed in drag, or bearing false teeth, his comedy was unanimously recognized as one of the hottest commodities in the improv scene. In spite of all this, something within him remained unfulfilled; that’s when he and longtime partner Kegan Michael Key called it quits to explore their potential outside the realm of their Comedy Central series.

Two years after the split, Peele wrote and directed Get Out, a groundbreaking debut that follows Chris, a young black man (Daniel Kaluuya) who travels to meet his white girlfriend’s family, only to find their overt pleasantries hide a menacing secret. Scoring big with Oscar nominations in Best Original Screenplay, Best Director, and Best Picture on his very first outing, Get Out was a resolute entry for Peele that welcomed a whole new era of artistic expression.


“The best comedy and horror feel like they take place in reality. You have a rule or two you are bending or heightening, but the world around it is real. I felt like everything I learned in comedy I could apply to this movie.”

Jordan Peele | The New York Times


Aside from its ensemble cast, sharp humor, and nail-biting suspense, Get Out established Peele’s reputation as a storyteller with something important to say. Disguised as a puzzling psychological horror-thriller, it’s also a pressing study about racial tension at its core. Peele’s tight script and inspired direction navigate timely social issues with thoughtfulness, resulting in an expert blend of subversion and conventionality, both balanced in equal measures.

In an age of horror that was overpopulated by demonic possession movies, Peele and his creative team at Monkeypaw Productions rejected the blueprint offered by the Conjuring franchise in favor of slow-burning social commentary about the black experience in America—for a fifth of its budget. Released to widespread acclaim and spirited discussion, Get Out upended expectations by bucking against the trends of its time. And with it came a new generation of ambitious visual storytelling that uses metaphor to explore the modern human condition like never before.


Eager to keep the momentum alive, Peele set out to capitalize on his newfound success as a filmmaker of substance. His second creative venture was Us, another film that uses genre to convey a deeper message about society as a whole. Wearing the veil of a blood-curdling slasher movie, his sophomore feature explored family dynamics through the macro lens of socioeconomic status. In doing so, forced audiences to re-evaluate the blurred line between heroes and villains.

Us finds darkness beneath the sunny shorelines of Santa Cruz, where the middle-class Wilson family (Lupita Nyong’o, Winston Duke, Shahadi Wright Joseph, Evan Alex) are terrorized by their own vengeful doppelgängers. Modeled after an episode of The Twilight Zone, man-against-self becomes literalized in Peele’s full-blown horror film that examines the class divide between those with privilege and those without.

Earning comparable returns to Get Out though it wasn’t as well-received, the general masses seemed to have reached an agreement. While Us was a bold swing of creative ambition with a career-defining performance from Nyong’o, it was unfocused at times, which muddled the story it tried to tell. Yet still, it justified Peele’s aim as a filmmaker who boldly attempts to one-up himself with each new story. Each of them original, each significant in its own declarative right, regardless of critical consensus.


Thrust into the jetstream of his first two films, Peele’s intrepid momentum screeches to a halt as the COVID-19 pandemic forces him into a state of re-evaluation. Can movies survive this unprecedented standstill? Emerging from that headspace, he set out to write a love letter to the great American spectacle with Nope, a cacophonous sci-fi/horror movie about a pair of siblings who come face-to-face with a strange flying object over their late father’s ranch. Employing decades of influence in the well-treaded alien subgenre, Peele implores viewers to abandon their notions of an extraterrestrial thriller by adorning Spielbergian pageantry with a sharp and pointed twist.

Led by Daniel Kaluuyaa and Keke Palmer, Nope is a daring cosmic western that makes great use of its multi-layered construction. At its most basic level, it functions as an IMAX movie with deep visual immersion and supersonic sound design. Hidden beneath, there’s a thought-provoking study of society’s toxic addiction to spectacle and how it’s fed by a need to exploit others for our own monetary gain.

From one character’s incessant urge to make money from UFO sightings to a series of grisly flashbacks depicting a trained chimpanzee’s rampage during a live studio taping, Nope is earnestly pining for larger concepts. It’s the kind of movie that rewards multiple viewings; if not for the showy pomp of its spectacle, come back for the full comprehension of what it’s really trying to say.

Though it’s seen as an improvement over his last, Nope isn’t quite flawless. Like many other movies are guilty of, the atmospheric setup can’t match how its resolution takes shape in the third act. But its relentless commitment to ambition helps cement Peele’s prestige in the realm of stories that dare to stand out. Nope defies genre while still drawing a large audience, and it contains moral complexity without bordering on preachiness. Viewers can’t help but leave the theater with a palpable sense of awe for what an original movie can be in 2022.


“I really connect with Peele’s films: His approach to filmmaking is very much like an artist, like somebody who’s done a painting or sculptures. It’s very open-ended, but it has a direct view.”

Keke Palmer | The Washington Post


The 43-year-old filmmaker’s belated reach expands beyond his own directorial scope, with a CV that includes co-producing credits on HBO’s Lovecraft Country and a co-writing credit on Nia DaCosta’s Candyman reboot. Both are noteworthy projects that stand beside Peele’s own, by virtue of poise and execution. His work speaks for a voiceless generation of artists whose films reframe the context of contemporary American society by way of familiar narrative templates.

Taking his place among the boldest cinematic voices of the 21st Century, the former comedian now stands as a figure whose work is more than just postmodern—it’s inevitable. Enriched and inspired by decades of film history, his platform elevates a time-honored genre to give horror more relevance in our surreal new world. Building his edifice at the intersection of progress and tradition, Peele’s work interrogates how we navigate an eruptive social climate.


Next | The Jurassic Problem: A Franchise Reflection
August 19, 2022 /AJ Mijares
Jordan Peele, Nope, Movies, Movie, Review, Film, Entertainment, Horror, Sci Fi
Deep Dives

The Jurassic Problem: A Franchise Reflection

July 21, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Essays

Life found a way. After five subsequent sequels and billions of dollars in box office revenue, it’s easy to see how far the Jurassic Park franchise has strayed since Spielberg first brought dinosaurs back to life in 1993. Like making copies on a printer that’s running low on ink, this franchise abides by a law of multiplicity in which every new installment seems like a lesser, faded echo of its original document.

That’s hardly the fault of Jurassic World helmer Colin Trevorrow. In fact, before people knew him for taking the reins on Universal’s ground-shaking property, Trevorrow was a dignified indie filmmaker whose only feature narrative was a critically beloved lo-fi comedy called Safety Not Guaranteed. But big studios like hiring small-scale filmmakers to take on big, sweeping projects. Their philosophy is (a) they’re crafty about working within a budget, and (b) they’re more pliable to studio intervention.

Jurassic World: Dominion is a trilogy conclusion with studio fingerprints all over it. As a big budget finale, it’s a loud, thrashing mashup of tones that feels like Mission Impossible with dinosaurs. Is it fan service? Is it a globetrotting action movie? Is it a sci-fi about cloning ethics? Is it an ecological disaster movie? According to Universal Pictures, it’s everything. But for as massive as it is now, its beginnings were much humbler in comparison.


Just like the scientific reasoning of Jurassic Park, everything started with a single strand. Already an accomplished writer, Michael Crichton found himself enveloped in the idea of a wildlife park for extinct animals. It exploded to become a bestselling adventure novel that, even before its release, multiple studios had bidding wars over rights for a film adaptation.

Eventually landing in Universal Pictures’ hands, Steven Spielberg was tapped to direct. An obvious choice, given his credentials as a filmmaker. He wanted to approach Crichton’s project as “a sequel to Jaws…on land”, which helps ground its high-minded science in a relatable story about people versus nature. The result was a groundbreaking thriller unfathomable for its time.

Jurassic Park was a monumental success, becoming the highest-grossing blockbuster of all time, a title it held for five years. Across the globe, audiences were floored by the sophistication of its portrayal of living, breathing, snarling dinosaurs. All held together by a script so tight, it felt just credible enough to happen in real life.


“Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park is a true movie milestone, presenting awe- and fear-inspiring sights never before seen on the screen.”

Janet Maslin | The New York Times


Beyond the pomp and circumstance, the underlying heart of Jurassic Park is the bulk of its relevance 29 years later. Credit’s due to multiple factors but first and foremost, it’s the people. With an outstanding cast that includes Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Richard Attenborough, Jeff Goldblum, BD Wong, Samuel L. Jackson, and Wayne Knight, the film’s legacy was built on the back of its ensemble.

From there, the pieces are put in play: a paleontologist, a botanist, a mathematical theorist, and a money-minded lawyer. As they converge in the manifested fantasy park of a benevolent billionaire, their conflicting viewpoints from varying pedigrees come to light. Their interplay had multitudes of moral complexity and asked hard-hitting questions about the direction of science in a world where anything’s possible.

Bright as they are, the depth of their knowledge couldn’t prepare them for the sheer might of these apex predators when security measures fail and hell breaks loose. Though some survive, their peril stemmed from what brought them all together in the first place: a flagrant disregard for the laws of natural selection.

By wrapping the film around themes of morality and progress, corporate greed, natural law, and the consequences of defying it, Crichton and co-writer David Koepp succeeded in crafting a tale that took on a life of its own the further we advanced as a society. Jurassic Park was a movie whose core meaning rings true to this day: have respect for the power of things better left in the past.


After the massive success of Jurassic Park, Michael Crichton felt the burdens of popular demand to follow up with a sequel he didn’t exactly plan for. After multiple brainstorming sessions with Spielberg and Koepp, he labored away to expand on an idea that eventually became The Lost World, released in 1995.

Not long after the release of Crichton’s novel, Universal went straight to work and hauled Spielberg back into the director’s chair for a sequel that re-summons Jeff Goldblum to navigate an off-site storage location where prehistoric hijinks ensue…again. It also introduced the concept of dinosaurs running loose in a metropolitan setting, with a finale that involves a T-Rex wreaking havoc in Downtown San Diego.

The film was released to lukewarm reception and has earned a reputation as one of Spielberg’s least favorite to work on, having acknowledged his disenchantment with the project as production rolled on. It’s hard to ignore the playful irony in a sequel to a story that so eloquently explored the pitfalls of cloning. Yet Universal would soon prove they weren’t close to being done—with or without Crichton’s direct involvement.


“Living in this town of sequels, I had never done a sequel. And it’s a difficult thing to do. It’s a very difficult structural problem because it has to be the same—but different.”

Michael Crichton | Charlie Rose


In spite of its general disregard, The Lost World made great money, becoming the first film ever to reach $70 million on Memorial Day weekend. That’s all the approval that Universal needed to keep the franchise going strong as we hurtled toward a new millennium and an ever-changing landscape for movies at large.

Joe Johnston, director of The Rocketeer and Jumanji was handpicked by Spielberg as a successor to take on the third film in the Jurassic Park Trilogy. As the first installment not based on text from Michael Crichton, his absence was dearly felt. Released in the Summer of 2001, Jurassic Park III was a straightforward action movie with no moral implications. Instead, the studio opted for a 90-minute adrenaline rush with new scary dinosaurs and no deeper meaning.

Sam Neill returns with an all-new supporting cast for a high-stakes rescue mission on Isla Sorna, from The Lost World. Despite Neil’s return to the franchise and some well-staged action sequences, JPIII was a full-scale departure from the scientific, high-minded intentions of its origin story, which was a motif that Universal would expand on in forthcoming generations.


Time pushed on as plans for a fourth Jurassic Park movie stalled with Spielberg’s inability to find a good script. As writers, directors, producers bounced in and out of contention, we exited the 2000s doubtful we’d ever see another sequel. Meanwhile, a noteworthy paradigm shift was happening in studio trends.

At the onset of the 2010s, many reboots emerged, ranking among the highest-grossing films of the year. Movies like Tron: Legacy, The Karate Kid, Clash of the Titans, and Alice in Wonderland signaled a strong push toward the revival of existing properties, sparking a renewal of interest in the Jurassic saga. Those efforts culminated in 2012 when Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver were hired to write as a brand new event began to take shape.

As the creative brains behind Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Jaffa and Silver had proven, with high proficiency, that they knew how to cultivate exciting new ideas within a pre-existing story template. Two years later, Colin Trevorrow was hired to direct a sequel that takes place on the same island 22 years after the original. Equipped with a director, a fresh story, and a catchy new title, the Jurassic World era was fast underway.


Stomping its way into theaters in the Summer of 2015, Jurassic World shattered a record for the biggest opening weekend in history, scoring $524 million on its first three days. Cranking the dial on Crichton’s original concept, the new saga breaks ground on a more enormous park with better funding and hungrier dinosaurs. Posing as an epic about the dangers of monetizing scientific progress, it holds a mirror up to Universal’s true intentions instead.

There was a gaping void beneath the spectacle of Jurassic World that was immediately felt by fans of the original. And while it featured some well-executed action sequences, it was undermined by its painfully generic inflection. Without philosophical conflict or intelligent characters, its purpose felt clouded and dubious, especially when considering its $150 million budget—more than triple the amount of its original. In making great money, the franchise had morphed into exactly what it fought against 22 years prior: a corporate conquest.


“Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

Dr. Ian Malcolm | Jurassic Park


After the success of Jurassic World, Universal seized their chance at a brand new trilogy that would expand the adventure beyond park walls. With the backing of a worldwide marketing strategy, the studio buckled down for Fallen Kingdom and Dominion, two blockbusters that sought box office domination on a wide global scale.

Two films and $700 million later, Jurassic Park became a full-fledged paradox; what was once a seismic premonition of Utopian enterprise was now a symbol of it. From its baffling plotlines to the cheap fan service, the franchise adopted newfound transparency about its capitalistic endeavors as a bloated shell of its original predecessor.

In spite of its many flaws, Jurassic World’s profitability is a benchmark of the culture we’ve built around sequels. As original ideas become more of a niche concept, studios are less willing to fund smaller stories with unproven potential. For a guaranteed buck, they’d rather resurrect nostalgic properties with no regard for sanctity. In the best-case scenario, movies like Top Gun: Maverick can exist on their own merit as a superbly crafted thrill ride. Instead, Universal’s premier franchise is a lumbering saga that enforces the argument against reviving old properties: sometimes what is dead should stay dead.

Next | Bring Back That Lovin’ Feeling: “Top Gun: Maverick” Review
July 21, 2022 /AJ Mijares
jurassic park, jurassic world, movies, film, review
Essays

Chip 'n Dale: The Art of Animation (That Grown-Ups Can Enjoy Too)

June 28, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Lists

In a best-case-scenario turnout, Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers is earning widespread acclaim as one of the best Disney comedies in recent memory. Bursting at the seams with creativity and wit, it manages to succeed as a family movie night staple that appeals to adults with its sophisticated palette of meta-humor.

For grown-up movie watchers in the modern world, animation is a tricky medium to enjoy wholeheartedly. Unless there’s some nostalgic connection to the property, much of the time we’re jaded to the spark of joy we felt as kids. The older we get, the harder it becomes to find the heart and soul in big studio movies like DC League of Superpets or Minions.

But just below the veil of artifice, there’s a conscious formula at play when it comes to animated movies that people of all ages can connect with. In a modern moviegoing scene with such obvious intentions to make as much money as possible, it’s movies like Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers that help remind us of what’s still possible in the realm of animated storytelling. And it’s because of this formula that makes these movies work—so let’s dive into their core elements.


1. They put specificity on a pedestal

Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - dir. Michael Rianda

Phil Lord and Chris Miller are a filmmaking pair who instinctively know how to shatter preconceptions with everything they do. With the backing of Netflix, the duo helped produce this highly imaginative comedy about a dysfunctional family that bands together to stop a looming AI apocalypse.

On the long list of things that make this 2021 Oscar nominee a bonafide hit for grown-ups is the unwavering singularity of the characters we follow. The script fleshes out characters with distinguished personalities and doles out jokes that are so specific, it points to the craftsmanship that went into making Mitchells vs. The Machines something special. The better we buy into the veracity of its universe, the more it transcends one-dimensionality.


“In every aspect of the movie, from the art style to the characters, we asked ourselves: How can this be as unique and specific as possible? How do we make them like characters you’ve never seen before, and art styles you’ve never seen before, and the type of story you’ve never seen before?”

Michael Rianda | The AV Club


2. They’re not afraid to be bold

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) - dir. Wes Anderson

There’s a glaring weakness in a lot of animated features with mass-market appeal: they feel familiar to the point of exhaustion, especially in stories sourced from older texts. The challenge to any great filmmaker is how distinctly they can embellish these stories in a visual medium. And no one captures this essence better than Wes Anderson.

His take on Roald Dahl’s fable about a sly, chicken-thieving fox is all but formulaic. Using stop motion techniques with miniaturized, handcrafted backdrops, Wes Anderson enlivens the classic tale with distinct visual taste: elite cinematography, balanced framing, rich color palettes, and a tremendous voice cast that includes George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, and Willem Dafoe.


3. Their lessons are enduringly relevant

Toy Story 4 - dir. Josh Cooley

Pixar’s Toy Story franchise is a cultural mainstay whose exploits have elevated the medium to new heights Aside from being obscenely lucrative, the films have held a special place in our hearts because of the characters and what their presence has ultimately stood for over the course of 24 years.

Toy Story operates by one overarching central theme: the passage of time. In the same way that Richard Linklater examines time in Before Sunrise and Boyhood, the Toy Story franchise follows characters that have grown along with its target audience; their perspectives shift, their beliefs toggle, and their bonds are tested.

Pixar has a special way of building emotional attachment with inanimate objects. By the time we arrive at the bittersweet conclusion of Toy Story 4, we’re left with a solemn reflection on these toys and what they’ve ultimately meant to us through different stages of life.


4. They’re clever about ‘fan service’

Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) - dir. Robert Zemeckis

Chip and Dale’s latest odyssey has been called a spiritual successor to Robert Zemeckis’ renowned noir comedy that broke barriers in crossover animation. It pioneered the concept of ‘fan service’ way ahead of its time using the likeness of iconic licensed properties in a highly effective manner that still holds up to this day.

Rather than carelessly cramming in as many recognizable figures as one screen will fit, it establishes a shared universe with cameos that feel more earned than forced. It’s a creative endeavor that established a convention that is omnipresent in today’s movies, though they can’t always tap into effectively.


5. They trigger emotions—but don’t manipulate them

The Iron Giant (1999) - dir. Brad Bird

The math is simple: great movies require audience engagement. Animated or not, a movie’s resonance hinges on its ability to deliver a satisfying emotional payoff. Since the dawn of animation, some exemplary titles come to mind, but none pack quite as hard a punch as Brad Bird’s love letter to the beatnik 50s, The Iron Giant.

Set during a period of Cold War panic, The Iron Giant outlines the unlikely friendship between a young boy named Hogarth and a steel behemoth that the government intends to destroy. By placing its focus on that shared connection, its emotional core is grounded in relatable feelings, picking up where Spielberg’s E.T. left off nearly two decades prior.


“The medium itself may have an appeal to kids, but I think the medium is way too powerful for that. And I think that more often you should be trying to appeal to the child in everyone and get to that feeling of wonder and excitement that you have when you’re a child.”

Brad Bird | Entertainment Weekly


6. They let imagination run free

Spirited Away (2001) - dir. Hayao Miyazaki

Everything is possible in the realm of animation; it’s more of a philosophy than a fact, as proven by Hayao Miyazaki. He’s a Japanese visionary whose influence has shaped the creative course of the medium as we know it today. As a co-founder of Studio Ghibli, his art interprets our world through a lens of boundless curiosity.

Spirited Away is an Academy Award-winning masterwork, told through the eager eyes of Chihiro, a 10-year-old who happens upon a strange amusement park inhabited by supernatural spirits. Capitalizing on the point that has made him such a driving force in the sphere of animation, Miyazaki expands our worldview by provoking thought on worlds not often seen.


7. They find new angles on what already exists

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) - dir. Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey, Rodney Rothman

Phil Lord and Chris Miller took aim at the Spider-Man mythology and widened the scale of New York’s favorite web-slinger. Parallel to Marvel Studios’ entry to the multiverse, Sony’s smash hit became a zeitgeist that still rivals any Spider-Man movie to date.

Into the Spiderverse was early on the trend of pulling from different universes, featuring seven different iterations of the iconic hero, slinging through concrete jungles in mind-shattering explosions of color. As an animated movie, it beams through as a spectacular sensory overload that renders the possibilities endless for a pre-existing property as famous as Marvel’s superheroes.

June 28, 2022 /AJ Mijares
animated, chip and dale, spirited away, movies, review, lists, film, entertainment
Lists

Bring Back That Lovin' Feeling: "Top Gun: Maverick" Review

June 05, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★★★ (5/5)

Watching a 59-year-old Tom Cruise headline another death-defying action movie is similar to watching combat sports. In boxing and MMA, it’s inevitable that the greatest fighters will age. And unless they take an early retirement, they will almost certainly live to find defeat at the hands of a younger athlete. Decorated as they may be, Father Time is undefeated in martial arts.

Cruise, however, is an anomaly; over the course of his 41-year career, he’s built lore as an ageless movie star who refuses to throw in his towel. His industry leverage and tenacity in making movies that thrive on spectacle have given him longevity that can honestly be described as ‘legendary’. We’ve seen him fly fighter jets, dangle from skyscrapers in Dubai, perform a real-life HALO jump, and hang off the edge of a rock wall in Moab, just to name a few.

Top Gun: Maverick is the thrilling sequel to Tony Scott’s 1986 film that reminds us of a time in cinema when you didn’t need superheroes to enjoy the spectacle, though you could argue that its protagonist Pete “Maverick” Mitchell has always been a man of superhuman capabilities. The latest installment, which earned a record-breaking $156 million over Memorial Day weekend helps cement Cruise’s legacy as a performer with unwavering commitment in everything he does. It’s a unanimous victory and a resounding statement to the public at large: Tom Cruise isn’t hitting the eject button anytime soon.


Joseph Kosinski (Oblivion, 2013) re-teams with Cruise to take audiences back to sun-bleached Miramar amidst present-day advancements in drone technology that threaten to render fighter pilots obsolete. When Maverick is summoned back to help a young cohort of hot-shots prepare for a deadly mission, he must prove to the bureaucrats calling for extinction that aviators are still a force to be reckoned with.

The sequel finds Cruise matched with a new assortment of faces, including Jon Hamm as the disapproving commander “Cyclone” Simpson, Jennifer Connelly as the radiant love interest Penny Benjamin, Glen Powell as cocky pilot “Hangman”, and Miles Teller as Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, the headstrong son of Maverick’s perished partner Goose in the original film. His hostility towards Maverick is a central plot device that provides a link to the original while highlighting the late-stage stance of Tom Cruise.

Jay Ellis, Lewis Pullman, Monica Barbaro, and Danny Ramirez are called in to pump fresh new blood into the mix of Top Gun: Maverick. As elite pilots in the nation’s most prestigious flight school, their presence provides an improvement over the original by including side characters who feel like young people that play an actual part in its greater mission.


“If you sign up for a Tom Cruise movie, as an actor or department head, you better be in. He does not half-ass it, therefore you cannot half-ass it. And that’s what I think makes him truly incredible.”

Glen Powell | The Wrap


The highly functional script follows closely to its predecessor, featuring similar story elements while improving its relevance to the present day. Co-written by Ehren Kruger, Eric Singer, and Tom Cruise’s frequent collaborator Chris McQuarrie, the story finds favor in familiarity. But with Cruise in his late 50s, the roles are now inverted with Maverick as the battle-worn mentor who must prove his knowledge to stubborn millennials, which lends itself to several comedic moments throughout.

Top Gun: Maverick’s appeal as an early fan favorite is built around its reputation as a throwback action movie. To be “produced by Jerry Bruckheimer” is a sigil that is worn proudly by movies with maximum excitement and little to no filler. The film operates as a loving homage to the full-throttle excess of 1980s cinema. In a world where so many movies are equipped to profess some sort of stance on the direction of our culture, it feels good to sit back in a cacophonous auditorium and watch an aerial ballet unfold at neck-breaking speed.

Even the dialogue seems pulled from a bygone time. From the intimate moments of melodrama to the quippy one-liners that balance humor and heroism better than Marvel Studios’ movies, everything works in perfect throwback harmony. And while there are many instances of fan service that are sure to please fans of the original, it isn’t crucial to the viewing experience—and yes, there is a shirtless beach scene, in case you were wondering.


In order to compete with the blockbusters of today, Tom Cruise and Jerry Bruckheimer knew that authenticity was vital to success for a sequel 36 years in the making. That’s why Tom Cruise felt it necessary to create a flight school to help teach his co-stars how to fly for real—and he himself designed the curriculum. Yeah, he’s actually qualified to do that.

Needless to say, the aerial training made for a massive payoff, as the movie is built around its stunning flight sequences. Each pilot’s jet was equipped with mounted cameras that could capture each grimace, every labored grunt as they twist and maneuver their massive aircraft with pinpoint precision at Mach Speeds that speaks to the grueling physicality of flying.

What makes this movie such a cut above contemporary hits like Avengers: Endgame, is its notable lack of CG intervention. Every hairpin turn, every inverted flip, every coordinated maneuver that we see is entirely real. The viewing experience is exponentially enhanced in larger format theaters, so if you thought you’d wait until this movie landed on streaming, you’d be doing yourself a huge disservice.


“On the last flight, he came back to the debrief room. I could tell he was exhausted and he just sat down on the chair and he put his black Ray-Bans from Risky Business on. I was like, 'How did it go?' And he said, ''We crushed it.'”

Joseph Kosinski | The Ringer


It’s been almost 40 years since the release of Tony Scott’s Top Gun, but there appears to be no sign of slowing as its sequel blazes into its second weekend atop the domestic box office. It’s exceedingly fun, quotable, and emotionally satisfying as a new staple of pop culture and an instant classic that’ll transport you right back to the danger zone. Although shooting complications and the arrival of COVID held up its release by almost three years, Top Gun: Maverick is a solid platinum follow-up that is well worth the wait.

The Wildest Ride in Town: "Ambulance" Review
June 05, 2022 /AJ Mijares
top gun, maverick, tom cruise, miles teller, movies, film, review, movie review, jennifer connelly, glen powell, airplanes, flight
Reviews

The Wildest Ride in Town: 'Ambulance' Review

April 24, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★ (3/5)

You probably know his name; Michael Bay is an L.A. native whose reputation as a filmmaker has loomed over Hollywood for almost three decades. As we’ve learned over the course of his wildly successful career through a body of work that includes Armageddon, Bad Boys, and the Transformers franchise, Bay doesn’t make movies that aspire toward subtlety. Instead, his movies are tailor-made for excitement in excess, with total disregard for physics or logic. It’s not high art—but that’s not to say he lacks artistry.

Finding his start in the mid-90s, a golden age for action movies, Michael Bay co-opted a style that allows him to prioritize adrenaline over depth. So much so that his movies are often stereotyped by their high-octane depictions of destruction: bullets whizzing, cars exploding, and buildings leveled in a mushroom cloud of glass and rubble. His one-dimensional plots can usually be explained in a single sentence and they almost never make sense—but in Bay’s playground, we don’t ask questions. The signature quality he’s cultivated is referred to endearingly as ‘Bayhem’, a style whose influence has bled into the fabric of action movies today.

From F9 to Red Notice, many recent titles take inspiration from Bay’s previous work; after all, he is the fourth highest-grossing director of all time. His latest film Ambulance follows two adoptive brothers with opposing morals, played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II and Jake Gyllenhaal, who execute a high-stakes bank heist in Los Angeles. When their getaway plans are foiled, they’re forced to hijack an ambulance with an EMT and an injured cop in tow. Though Ambulance only earned $8.6 million in its opening weekend, many believe it to be a return to form for Bay, Hollywood’s resident merchant of madness.


“There’s a special sauce for explosions. It’s like a recipe. I see some directors do it, and they look cheesy, or it won’t have a shockwave. There are certain ways with explosions where you’re mixing different things, and different types of explosions to make it look more realistic. It’s like making a Caesar salad.”

Michael Bay | Empire


Ambulance is a textbook popcorn movie that functions on two levels: one as a heist film, and two as a car chase movie. As the former, it lacks the procedural insight of crime classics like Heat or The Town. Regardless, we still find the experience worthwhile because of its fundamental lack of self-seriousness. Compared to the rest, Ambulance is Michael Bay’s most self-effacing work, almost to the point of parody. At one point, a character quotes Sean Connery’s ‘prom queen’ line from The Rock which delivers a humorous jolt of self-awareness that differs from his more grounded work like 13 Hours or Pearl Harbor.

When the narrative shifts gears and transitions to a sprawling car chase, Bay’s hallmark tendencies come alive in spectacular fashion; the ambulance roars around Los Angeles for nearly two hours, blazing through red lights and Farmers’ Markets with LAPD in hot pursuit. The movie is indebted to Speed in more ways than one, but especially in terms of its sheer vehicular destruction. As we’ve come to expect in Bayhem, patrol vehicles are playthings—plunged into buildings, blasted by grenade launchers, and engulfed in fireballs, evoking imagery out of Grand Theft Auto.

Despite the primitive excitement we feel while watching a car launched three stories high, Ambulance was made for only $40 million: a mere fifth of the budget for Transformers in 2007. The mark of a skilled director isn’t always what you see on the surface, it’s how they’ve allocated the bankroll they’ve been given. With almost 30 years of directing experience, Bay has proven himself resourceful on the tightest of budgets. In Ambulance, stunts are executed practically with minimal use of computer graphics. Bay also had to adapt to the additional challenge of shooting high-wire action in the midst of a pandemic, which presents a unique set of benefits for shooting a car chase through the empty streets of LA.


When it comes to lead performances, Michael Bay loves working with top-tier talent, even though he doesn’t usually specialize in thoughtful character development. Take Armageddon for example; Ben Affleck and Bruce Willis are oil drillers who are deployed to outer space to destroy a Texas-sized asteroid—in exchange for lifetime tax pardons. If that sounds nonsensical, it’s because his movies usually are.

As an audience, we tend to overlook Bay’s compulsions because there’s a voluntary suspension of logic in movies with such fierce commitment to spectacle. Because of this, we need energetic characters we can latch onto. Ambulance is a wild ride that relies heavily on the strength of its two leads, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II and Jake Gyllenhaal. Their motivations aren’t always clear, but their adversarial dynamic provides a means for Bay to move the story forward and create makeshift tension along the way.

Out of step with his recent trend of losing himself in a series of dark and subdued roles, Jake Gyllenhaal delivers a rockstar performance as Danny Sharp, the charismatic outlaw whose devilish allure and unstable rage push the stakes to extreme heights. Gyllenhaal plays Danny with an unhinged bravado, blasting rifles and screaming lines of dialogue in a performance reminiscent of vintage Nic Cage.

His counterpart in Yahya Abdul-Mateen II stands out as the moral compass of Ambulance. In need of operation money for his ailing wife, Will Sharp resorts to desperate measures against his best judgment. Though led astray by his devious brother, Will is an ex-marine who is guided by principle. And compared to the psychopathic Danny, his role requires more nuance and empathy—redeemable qualities that become clearer as the saga unfolds.


Despite his lack of thematic complexity, Bay’s competence as a blockbuster moviemaker goes unquestioned. He embellishes Ambulance with such relentless pacing that hardly gives room to breathe, thanks to some savvy editing by Pietro Scalia, the two-time Academy Award-winning editor of Black Hawk Down and JFK.

While the movie slightly suffers from its lengthy runtime—as all Michael Bay movies generally do—it doesn’t hamper the sensory spectacle of its action sequences. Ambulance is a movie that works best on the largest screen possible in a packed auditorium so you can gauge the collective reaction. But given its underwhelming box office turnout, there’s an unavoidable quandary as we enter our second year of COVID-19: can a middle-tier non-franchise action movie ever find success again? Or has the Michael Bay formula officially overstayed its welcome with mainstream audiences?

Death, Drugs, and Dirty Movies: ‘X' Review
April 24, 2022 /AJ Mijares
ambulance, michael bay, jake gyllenhaal, yahya abdul-mateen ii, movies, film, action movies
Reviews

Death, Drugs, and Dirty Movies: 'X' Review

March 29, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★★ (4/5)

The year is 1979; a particularly horny group of kids stumble upon a Texas farmhouse and soon discover its terrifying, gruesome secret. If that’s all you’ve heard about Ti West’s latest horror film X, there’s a huge chance you’ll think you know the story, but allow me to provide some reassurance: you really, really don’t.

Since the late 2000s, Ti West has made a name for himself as a cult filmmaker who isn’t shy about his love for classic genre movies. His breakout feature The House of the Devil was a grotesque play on the “babysitter in peril” trope; for the next seven years, he’d put together an eclectic body of work that subverts some of the most beloved genre conventions—from his haunted house movie in The Innkeepers to his found footage occult thriller The Sacrament, West has established notoriety as one of the more prolific indie filmmakers in modern moviegoing.

After a six-year stint in episodic television, West teamed with A24 to produce X, a retro splatter film that balances smart storytelling, thoughtful character development, and unrestrained madness in what is likely to be remembered as his best, most batshit film to date. While many speculated it to be a reimagining of Tobe Hooper’s pulp classic The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the writer/director approaches X from a creative angle that upends expectations and pushes the boundaries for taboo in film.


“I wanted to take the trope of sex and violence that is typically lowbrow and try to do something crafty with it. Having never made a slasher movie, which are mostly people getting murdered, I wanted to do something a little unexpected that isn’t just people getting killed.”

Ti West | IndieWire


Sexual promiscuity and bloodshed are the two driving forces of X; since the advent of motion pictures, no subject matter has sparked more controversy than portrayals of sex and violence onscreen. The dynamic of these two fringe topics is at the forefront of the film and reflected through each character from their behaviors to their motivations. The movie takes breaks in building tension to explore themes of artistic expression, sexual independence, and the effects of prolonged repression that bring a surprising amount of depth to this grindhouse tale of depravity.

By pinning the narrative to a group of young, sexually liberated characters shooting porn in a radically conservative setting, Ti West succeeds at making a slasher film with complexity that makes use of the two most scrutinized taboos. “We turn folks on. And that scares them” asserts Bobby-Lynne, played convincingly by Brittany Snow, in a line that accents the self-awareness behind X’s appeal factor.

In an effort to rebel against the stereotype, West employs smart, patient filmmaking that builds tension slowly and cascades to a blood-splattered climax, which imbues the film with an artistry that feels intentionally contrasted to its pulp, low-brow narrative. X is enlivened by great cinematography that transcends any preconceptions of its smut-adjacent subject matter, from its crawling dolly shots that peer into paint-chipped rooms to a stunning crane shot of a character swimming in gator-infested waters.


As our crack bunch of protagonists embark to shoot their meta-porn flick entitled The Farmer’s Daughter, it becomes clear that X’s casting is easily one of its biggest strengths. Each character is fleshed out brilliantly with archetypes that help us identify with their individual personas. A bulk of its commercial awareness surrounds rap mogul Scott Mescudi, who thrives in his role as Jackson Hole, the ex-marine-turned-adult-film-star, which—judging by his name—you can probably guess what much of his role entails.

The newly appointed scream queen Jenna Ortega makes a noteworthy appearance as Lorraine, the quiet girlfriend of the film’s in-world director RJ, played by Owen Campbell. As a couple, RJ and Lorraine represent two different schools of thought when it comes to making pornography: one being a self-serious director who aspires to create art, and one being a prudish production assistant with hidden intrigue for the business. As the film progresses, their bond is tested and their arcs become clearer the further they’re taken into the inferno.

The hardest working member of the cast is Mia Goth, another performer well-suited to wear the title of scream queen after her indelible performances in Suspiria and A Cure for Wellness. She pulls double duty in X as Maxine and Pearl, the film’s two oppositional characters—one being the youthful, ambitious performer and the other being a ghoulish old woman who wanders her husband’s farm. In both roles, Mia nosedives into abject disassociation from what’s generally expected of lead actresses in the modern landscape. Her dueling roles enhance the movie by adding her distinct flavor of intensity as one of the best young character-actors in movies today.


“We spoke at length about the fact that they're very much the same woman. They carry the same essence, they're just at different life stages and the product of different circumstances and life choices ultimately - but their spirit is the same.”

Mia Goth | Screen Rant


Being the genre enthusiast that he is, Ti West knows that horror movies in the American South are well-explored terrain that’ll never get old if executed correctly. And even though X (and its subsequent prequel) is filmed entirely in the rural farmland of Fordell, New Zealand, the production design team gives the film’s setting an unmistakably sun-baked Texan quality, without feeling antique or excessive.

In previous films, West captured the panic of Jonestown in 1978 and the new-wave ambiance of the mid-80s. Time and time again, he’s proven his ability to render 20th-century aesthetics with uncompromising detail which plays a huge factor in why his movies feel so immersive. X plunges audiences into middle-of-nowhere Texas in 1979 with authenticity and precision, shot through vintage anamorphic lenses and faithful set decoration. Its setting is clearly staged and its world built out, from the retro beer cans to the box-frame TVs and the dusty hay-stacked barnyards.

As exemplified by his crafty inclusion of The Fixx in The House of the Devil, music is often used in Ti West’s films to establish its era and undercut the tension. From a musical standpoint, X is the savviest film to date, with a livewire energy that moves freely from scene to scene. Through its winking depiction of groovy pornographic bliss to the sounds of Sexy Eyes or its exploration of an existential crisis through an acoustic performance of Landslide, the infectious energy is largely indebted to the sounds that Ti West employs.


If the logline and rural Texas setting of X rope audiences into a false sense of security, it succeeds in a similar way that Drew Goddard’s The Cabin in the Woods toyed with expectations for a “cabin from hell” movie. His tightly wound script helps flip the convention by introducing an unsettling twist that unfolds with an intriguing balance of bloodshed and perverse sentimentality that does more than justify its own existence.

Despite the higher intentions of its subtextual readings, at the end of the day, this movie is one hell of a good time. Total chaos is the name of the game for X and when our protagonists begin to meet their gruesome ends, we can immediately identify that West is a filmmaker who has never sought to reinvent the wheel, just find a creative new way to let it roll. This hard-R hellscape is highly recommended for any viewer who dares to step into Ti West’s twisted slaughterhouse.

NEXT | Under a Crimson Moon: ‘The Night House’ Review
March 29, 2022 /AJ Mijares
ti west, x, film, review, mia goth, brittany snow, kid cudi, jenna ortega
Reviews

Creep in a Cowl: 'The Batman' Review

March 21, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★ (3/5)

The Gotham City rendered by Matt Reeves is a sprawling urban metropolis that, in terms of aesthetics, feels different than every other setting in the caped crusader’s canon. As a filmmaker who’s used to taking on world-building franchises with his highly successful Planet of the Apes trilogy, Reeves executes his vision with discernible inspiration from genres that could tap into the essence of his subject’s oppressive backstories. That’s why The Batman feels more in line with grisly crime thrillers than it does with Tim Burton or Christopher Nolan’s established settings.

In this latest entry, Gotham City’s streets are slicked with unrelenting rainfall shot mostly by night, lit dimly by streetlamps and neon signs. Interior settings are grim and moody, overcome by a pervasive melancholy that helps distill the essence of Batman’s traumatic origin story—and stretches for the entirety of The Batman’s lengthy three-hour runtime.


“By the time we were ready to do the movie, there was an enormous history of this specific Gotham, its corruption, and how it worked. I also just wanted it to feel very visceral and gritty, but not identifiable, so that you couldn’t say New York is Gotham or Chicago must be Gotham.”

Matt Reeves | Vulture


Reeves was given a lofty task, adapting a Batman story with 12 previous feature films that already explored the masked vigilante through vastly differing perspectives. How can a director distinguish themselves in the archive of cinema’s most iconic superhero?

With the help of an effective production design team spearheaded by James Chinlund, Matt Reeves scores big with his envisionment of Gotham for exactly what it is, and in some ways always has been: a damp, cold city with a swirling heart of darkness at its core. And through this city, a criminal sludge runs amok, wreaking havoc from the shadows.

That’s where The Batman’s protagonist comes in, a youthful but antisocial Bruce Wayne (Robert Pattinson), still visibly wearing the trauma sustained from losing his parents as a child. As a man, he’s mostly withdrawn but when he dons the cowl, he evokes invulnerability, a bulletproof identity worn to shield himself from the inevitable horrors of the outside world. But somewhere in the folds of his split personalities, he finds a blurred line between them. Who is he really?


In this timeline, both of Wayne’s identities are still entangled in one. As a man, he’s far from the billionaire playboy we’ve grown accustomed to seeing him as. And as a hero, he’s certainly the most stoic Batman we’ve ever seen in movies, walking into crime scenes and criminal dungeons with a deeply troubled distance you can feel in the way he walks, talks, and looks behind the eyes.

Continuing his streak of image-transcendant performances, Robert Pattinson plays Batman and Bruce Wayne as two strands of the same helix. Even with the mask on, there’s an undercurrent of sadness and fear that ultimately reflects what he is inside: just a young guy trying to figure out his place in the world.

By stripping the vigilante down to his broken foundations, Reeves introduces an unparalleled degree of psychology to Batman we’ve not yet seen in a feature-length film. That deliberate darkness is explored through many different aspects of the film’s execution, including its archnemesis Riddler (Paul Dano) being angled as more of a sociopathic serial killer than a traditional supervillain, the drab aesthetic that adorns the entire film, and the downbeat strums of Nirvana’s Something in the Way employed as a motif for the darker, anguish-riddled narrative.


“He’s succumbing to his darkness. Once he’s put on that suit, he doesn’t really know who he is anymore.”

Robert Pattinson | The New York Times


While many aspects of The Batman’s thematic execution are employed effectively, the film’s inevitable downside is also quite apparent upon first viewing. Many of those flaws are magnified by its hefty three-hour runtime, which feels like it lingers on the minutia of its narrative for much longer than it needs to.

In an effort to craft a more tactile superhero film that takes on more of a serial killer/detective milieu like David Fincher’s Zodiac, Matt Reeves and Peter Craig’s screenplay gets tangled in the lines of its underworld story. The lofty idealism feels refreshingly inspired, though it unavoidably feels derivative at times and also tends to weigh down the overall viewing experience.

Within the criminal underworld of Gotham, many of the film’s moving parts don’t quite match the film’s tonal intensity, with some supporting characters that feel more likened to a comic book or graphic novel. Unlike the grittier films it aspires to, The Batman draws toward its conclusion with way too many bad guys and subplots to keep tabs on, which distracts from the cat and mouse game between Batman and Riddler.


Despite its story flaws, the film still manages to glide on the strength of its immersive set pieces, directed by Reeves with heart-pounding big-budget execution. The film’s sound design is vital to its overall viewing experience, so the action sequences pack a much heavier punch in a movie theater than they would from the comfort of home.

The film’s centerpiece is an unbelievably staged car chase between Batman and Penguin (Colin Farrell). Unlike previous iterations, the new Batmobile is specifically designed as a supersonic behemoth that rattles an auditorium and swallows audiences whole. Reeves’ vision for the sequence is massively empowered by its use of practical effects over CGI. The scene bulldozes toward a satisfying payoff that stands out upon first viewing.

The preeminent third-act sequence is an intricately staged finale, taking place in an indoor arena similar to Madison Square Garden. With the city corralled indoors after a sudden panic, masked assailants in the rafters begin firing rifles down at an unsuspecting crowd, which highlights the inconvenient timeliness of the visceral story Reeves is trying to tell. It’s not a football stadium rigged with C4, nor is it Mr. Freeze entombing Gotham City in a wall of ice, it’s essentially a mass shooting that encapsulates a very real and mounting fear that is scarily omnipresent in the modern world. It’s at this moment Batman comes to a realization of his true position behind the line that separates good from evil.


“When I’m making movies, I’m trying to make sense of my experience, and through his vigilantism, he’s trying to cope with his.”

Matt Reeves | The New York Times


Another point driving The Batman’s discourse focuses on its strong supporting cast including Zoe Kravitz as Selina ‘Catwoman’ Kyle. In this adaptation, Kyle is a well-developed character with clearly illustrated motives that sidestep the frivolity of Michelle Pfeiffer and the deceptive allure of Anne Hathaway. Instead, Kravitz plays Catwoman with a measured balance of class, charm, and spunk that serves as a refreshing counterbalance to the stoic and dour performance needed for Pattinson’s Batman to take shape.

Rounding out the rogues’ gallery of bad guys is Colin Farrell, who undergoes an astonishing transformation as Penguin, the fierce underworld kingpin. His sneers and snarls under an avalanche of prosthetics render him literally unrecognizable. He plays the role with a certain degree of grounded malevolence, diverging from Danny DeVito’s sideshow carney-esque performance in Batman Returns.

One of the biggest topics of conversation surrounds Paul Dano as the primary antagonist Riddler. Unlike Jim Carrey’s manic portrayal in Batman Forever, Dano’s Riddler is illustrated as more of a sociopathic extremist rather than an archetypal comic book villain. His unsettling volatility and aim to expose corruption in Gotham help ground the film in a backstory that is infinitely darker and more fitting to its time.


While certain pieces of The Batman feel slightly out of place, the film takes DC’s most valuable asset in an intriguing new direction. On its opening weekend, the film grossed $134 million in domestic revenue, boasting a stronger performance than any DC movie since Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice in 2016 and the second-best box office opener since the pandemic first began.

Looking ahead to the future, Matt Reeves explores rugged new terrain with which he can take Batman’s expansive mythology. While a sequel has yet to be officially announced, it’s a forgone conclusion that we haven’t seen the last of emo Batman just yet. Furthermore, with HBO Max gearing up for an upcoming Penguin spin-off series, we wait with bated breath for whatever lies in store for the world’s greatest detective.

NEXT | A Casual's Guide to the 2022 Academy Awards
March 21, 2022 /AJ Mijares
batman, film, movies, matt reeves, robert pattinson, superhero, dc
Reviews

A Casual's Guide to the 2022 Academy Awards

March 06, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Deep Dives

In case you haven’t heard—because there’s an actual chance you haven’t—the 94th Academy Awards is scheduled to air on ABC on March 27th. As a culture, we’ve strayed far from the days when the Oscars felt somewhat centered. They’ve taken a massive nosedive in mainstream popularity over the last two decades, culminating in a record low 9.85 million viewers tuning into last year’s show. For context, that’s almost 50 million less than those who tuned in to watch James Cameron’s Titanic clinch gold in 1998.

While there are countless reasons for the huge decline in viewership, many of which we’ll get into, the fundamental truth is that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is having a much harder time finding an audience in today’s landscape. In light of 2021 being a weird year in movies, the announced nomination slate might befuddle the general public who probably spent money to see maybe one or two movies last year.

Aside from a few notable exceptions, this year’s nomination slate is a particularly diverse array of movies that most people probably didn’t take the time to go and see. But don’t worry, I’ll do my best to get you covered before everyone goes berserk about it on Twitter. Here’s an abridged guide to the movies, the stars, and storylines underlining the biggest night in movies.


The Storyline: The Academy introduces a “Fan Favorite Film” award voted by Twitter.

The Significance: Numbers don’t lie—Academy Awards viewership has tanked over recent years. Whether that’s due to a dwindling interest in film or the sheer diversity of avenues that we can now ingest entertainment, the bottom line is simple: in order to adapt, the Academy needs to make a dramatic shift in its recognition efforts. Having said that, implementing a Twitter vote is like recognizing the movies people actually watched with a “Great Try!” medal.

The Academy bears a time-honored responsibility of recognizing the highest caliber films each year but with movie theaters shutting down at such an alarming rate, the Academy now bears a wider obligation to the longevity of movies. If they’re not flexible enough to give so much as a nomination to the great movies that people actually went out and saw, they’re not just hurting the future of movies, they’re also de-incentivizing viewers from having any reason to tune in altogether.

Prediction: In all likelihood, Spider-Man: No Way Home will win this award. That way, the Academy can proudly claim that they gave commendation to a movie that surpassed Avatar in box office revenue, without having to compromise the sanctity of their Best Picture nominees. Having nominated Black Panther and Avengers: Endgame in years past, it wasn’t farfetched to believe they’d do the same for Spidey.


The Storyline: The Academy recognizes Kristen Stewart’s ascension from Twilight star to Best Actress nominee as Princess Diana in Spencer.

The Significance: Just like her franchise counterpart Robert Pattinson, Stewart has been on quite a run since her time in Forks, Washington. In the wake of her commercial launch point, she’s taken on a number of diverse roles from Joan Jett in The Runaways to a stoned action hero in American Ultra. Last year she finally got her first shot at award stardom as the Princess of Wales in a deeply unsettling historical drama-thriller directed by Pablo Larraín.

Though Spencer’s script is drenched in melodrama, Stewart portrays Princess Diana with a certain restraint necessary for the role. She exhibits a quiet agony that hides beyond her striking beauty, which help to illustrate Diana Spencer as a woman mercilessly bound by the confines of the British monarchy.

Prediction: Gone are the days when she was riding shotgun in Edward’s Volvo; Kristen Stewart has a long and illustrious road ahead of her. Despite her tireless promotion and her career-topping performance in Spencer, I don’t see the Academy awarding her over Olivia Colman or Penelope Cruz, both of which who have won previously.


The Storyline: Netflix doubles down on their chances at a Best Picture win with Don’t Look Up and The Power of the Dog.

The Significance: After 300 original films, 200 million subscribers, and 7 Best Picture nominations, a coveted Oscar still eludes the Silicon Valley-based streaming giant. This year finds their biggest betting odds of a Best Picture win with two contenders from some of the biggest names in the industry.

The former being Adam McKay’s Don’t Look Up, an apocalyptic satire starring Leo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence. The latter of which is a far more grounded, brooding, atmospheric Old West drama starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Kirsten Dunst, Kodi Smitt McPhee, and Jesse Plemons; and they boast the ultimate flex in that all of them are also nominated for performance Oscars.

Prediction: Don’t Look Up is a fun film with tremendous star power and massive popularity, but the Academy almost never recognizes comedy in the Best Picture race. Conversely, The Power of the Dog has a gigantic chance of taking Best Picture this year, among many other awards.

Related: Top Movies of 2021 (and where to find them)

The Storyline: Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car has been nominated for four Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best International Feature, and Best Director.

The Significance: The Academy’s push toward broader recognition for world cinema reached its apex in 2020 when Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite took home four awards out of six nominations, becoming the first foreign-language film ever to win Best Picture. With the barrier broken for Asian cinema, Ryusuke Hamaguchi slipped into the jetstream with Drive My Car, a powerful drama and front runner in this year’s Academy Awards.

Here’s the thing: Parasite is an entirely different species than Drive My Car. Where Parasite had universal currency as a tense social thriller, Drive My Car is a consummate arthouse drama that mostly features people talking. While beautiful and thought-provoking, its emotional reckoning hits with the kind of quiet that makes you afraid to chew popcorn in a crowded theater. So if you’d rather watch this three-hour opus at home, you’re in luck—Drive My Car has arrived on HBO Max.

Prediction: Though it has steep competition in every category that it’s nominated for, I feel that Drive My Car is the biggest threat to The Power of the Dog in the race for Best Picture.


The Storyline: Kenneth Branaugh’s semi-autobiographical drama Belfast is nominated for Best Picture and Best Director. Can Branaugh take home either?

The Significance: The Academy has a soft spot for decorated filmmakers whose autobiographical films are crafted with sentimentality, much like Alphonso Cuaron’s Roma which famously won for Best Director but fell short of the Best Picture win.

Branaugh’s Belfast is a heartfelt ode to the enduring bonds of kinship amidst civil unrest in the late 60s. Told from the perspective of an observant young boy (Jude Hill), the film is clearly pulled from a thread of Branaugh’s own childhood experiences, having lived through the tumult of The Troubles in Northern Ireland.

Prediction: Belfast is a good wild card pick for Best Picture. If Branaugh falls short, he can always throw on a mustache and summon Hercule Poirot to investigate the voting body.


The Storyline: Questlove made his directorial debut with Summer of Soul. Will he be able to snag Best Documentary?

The Significance: Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson is a true renaissance man: he’s an actor, DJ, writer, social activist, and the Grammy Award-winning percussionist behind The Roots. Add director to that list with 2021’s Summer of Soul, an energetic documentary that explores the Harlem Cultural Festival of 1969. The music and arts gathering took place over the same Summer as Woodstock, though it has since evaporated from the cultural awareness.

Summer of Soul examines the shared perspectives of unity and struggle through the eyes of attendees and artists who headlined. Over the course of one fateful weekend, all of Harlem came together in a cathartic musical healing experience just one year after the assassination of MLK Jr. Questlove brings three days’ worth of lost footage to light, resurrecting the long-forgotten memories of a festival featuring some of the biggest names of its time including Stevie Wonder, the 5th Dimension, Sly & the Family Stone, Mahalia Jackson, and Nina Simone, just to name a few.

Prediction: If Jonas Poher Rasmussen’s Flee doesn’t win Best Documentary, Questlove better make some room on his trophy shelf next to his three Grammys. For anyone interested, you can find Summer of Soul streaming on Hulu and Disney plus.


The Storyline: In an effort to combat the decline in ratings, the Academy announces they’ll be shortening their televised ceremony.

The Significance: Filmmakers and fans have been widely disavowing the Academy’s controversial decision to shorten the televised ceremony as a means to streamline the broadcast. In doing so, they’re making the deliberate choice to exclude eight separate categories from the telecast, including Film Editing, Makeup and Hairstyling, Original Score, Production Design, and Sound.

This isn’t the first time the Academy has tried to do this; infamously the 91st Academy Awards also opted to present four categories during commercial breaks, which resulted in criticism so profound that they reversed their decision just a few days later.

Prediction: Because of their increasingly misguided decisions to institute regulatory changes that no one asked for, the resulting backlash only points to a prevalence of distrust from the artists who are meant to be celebrated, which could affect their subsequent participation altogether.



The Storyline: King Richard is Will Smith’s third shot at Best Actor. Third time’s a charm?

The Significance: After falling short on his past nominations with Ali and The Pursuit of Happiness, Will Smith gives what is arguably his finest performance in King Richard, a biopic about Richard Williams, the enigmatic father of Venus and Serena. As we follow the twin tennis prodigies from a concrete hellscape to the biggest courts on the world stage, Smith’s work distinguishes itself as a tear-jerking display of veteran acting chops.

Last November, the movie was given a day and date release simultaneously in theaters and on HBO Max. Since then it has found mass appeal, with many critics citing the power of Smith’s transformative performance. The Academy also nominated them for categories in Best Picture, Best Original Screenplay, and Best Supporting Actress for Aunjanue Ellis.

Prediction: Hard to call when you’re going up against Denzel Washington and Benedict Cumberbatch. My guess is that one of those three takes it home. If Smith does win, he can finally avenge his lack of recognition for Wild Wild West.


The Storyline: AppleTV+ officially enters the awards race with Coda and The Tragedy of Macbeth.

The Significance: Now that the Apple overlords have found their breadwinning series in the Emmy-winning Ted Lasso, they’re throwing their name into the hat for feature films with their strongest year to date. In 2021, they distributed seven movies through their proprietary streaming platform, including two award contenders in Sian Heder’s Coda and Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth.

Both of Apple’s films are nominated for three awards apiece including Coda for Best Picture and The Tragedy of Macbeth for Best Actor in Denzel Washington. The latter should be no surprise, as Denzel is always marvelous with a great script, and in case you forgot: Shakespeare was a pretty good writer. But the inclusion of Coda is a watershed moment, with a primary cast that is mostly comprised of deaf performers.

Prediction: Denzel is a force of nature but he has competition for Best Actor. It’s also worth noting that Shakespeare hasn’t been on the podium since Shakespeare in Love won Best Picture in 1998, which is not even a joke. Joel Coen’s adaptation has a bigger chance of winning in the technical categories for Best Production Design or Cinematography.

Coda is a big underdog in the race for Best Picture. The film has been well-received and it’s widely adored by people who’ve seen it. If it wins, it’ll be a celebratory affair for the deaf community in their onscreen representation. Troy Kotsur, however, has the biggest chance of winning for Best Supporting Actor, who’s slated to become the second deaf actor ever to take home an award.


The Storyline: Paul Thomas Anderson is recognized in three major categories: Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Original Screenplay for his work on Licorice Pizza.

The Significance: The Los Angeles-born and bred filmmaker is no stranger to the critical spotlight; at 51 years of age, he’s racked up nine Oscar nominations, including three respective nods in each major filmmaking category—though famously, he’s never won.

His latest film Licorice Pizza is a scrappy coming-of-age tale set in the San Fernando Valley in the 1970s. The film drips with delightful nostalgia and glides on its strong lead performances by newcomers Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman, the son of late PTA alum Phillip Seymour Hoffman. While the film infamously details a controversial relationship between a teenage boy and a 25-year old girl, it stands as one of PTA’s most personal and endearing works.

Prediction: Despite how immaculate his body of work is, it’s important to acknowledge that he probably should have won by now. But that’s the Oscars, where even the biggest legends get stiffed. Just look at Al Pacino; if he couldn't win Best Actor until he went blind for Scent of a Woman, maybe PTA’s time just hasn’t come yet. If I were to guess, I’d say his strongest chance is for Best Original Screenplay this year.

Related | The Rom-Com Hall of Fame (According to a Millennial Knuckle Dragger)

The Storyline: Do believe the hype. Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story is as good as people say it is.

The Significance: How silly we were to think that Steven Spielberg lost his fastball. Sure, the argument could be made that he hasn’t directed a bonafide classic in nearly two decades. But let’s not forget that he’s credited with pioneering the modern-day blockbuster. And at the ripe age of 75, his gift is still giving, resulting in one of the most masterfully executed musicals of the 21st century.

Spielberg’s iteration of West Side Story boasts many flourishes of deeply inspired filmmaking: his colors are more vibrant than they’ve been in years, the camera movements are more dynamic, and its young ensemble is enthralling in their song, dance, and performance. As a comprehensive directorial effort, West Side Story is the strongest Spielberg has been since Saving Private Ryan. The Academy seemed to agree, nominating it in seven categories that include Best Picture, Best Director, Best Cinematography, and Best Supporting Actress for Ariana DeBose.

Prediction: I think Spielberg has a great shot at winning Best Director for the third time. If you didn’t get to catch this in theaters, you can log onto HBO Max and Disney Plus to find out for yourself.


The Storyline: No love for Ridley Scott; the 84-year-old director was fleeced for both of his films of 2021.

The Significance: Age is nothing but a number for Ridley Scott, the decorated filmmaker who has stayed busy since lockdown commenced. From The Last Duel to House of Gucci, both of his 2021 releases were met with strong critical praise, though neither was recognized in this year’s Oscars race, aside from a Best Makeup and Hairstyling nod for the latter.

Given Ridley Scott’s extensive history of award recognition, it perplexed many that neither was nominated in technical or acting categories. While the word-of-mouth reputation has been famously contentious, the critical valuation praised The Last Duel and House of Gucci as well-executed craftsman movies with dynamic performances, masterfully staged sequences, and noteworthy effort in costuming and production design.

Prediction: House of Gucci may have a shot at Best Makeup and Hairstyling but due to the Academy’s controversial effort to shorten their broadcast, sadly none of us will be able to see it.


The Storyline: Encanto vs. Flee: an animated showdown for the ages.

The Significance: Of all categories, the clash for Best Animated Feature Film is probably the one most visibly impacted by the inequality of exposure due to big studio marketing.

For all intents and purposes, Encanto is the textbook Disney product; ever since its arrival on Disney Plus, its influence has become literally unavoidable. On the other hand, Jonas Poher Rasmussen’s Flee was a big hit at Sundance, though received almost no commercial buzz whatsoever.

Upon watching both, it kind of makes sense: one is a kid-friendly culture piece with a catchy soundtrack, the other is a harrowing documentary about a young gay man escaping war-torn Afghanistan. Flee’s narrative unfolds with devastating execution that unpacks some incredibly dense themes of war, masculine identity, religious persecution, and a home you can’t go back to. Though they’re both animated movies that celebrate multiculturalism, only one is told with pulverizing honesty.

Prediction: Sorry Lin-Manuel Miranda fans; in all likelihood, Flee—which is also nominated for Best Documentary and Best International Feature—deserves to win in this category. To see for yourself, catch it on Hulu streaming now.


The Storyline: Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World was one of the most critically beloved movies of 2021. Will it take home an Oscar?

The Significance: In all reality, this might be the first you’re hearing about Joachim Trier’s darkly humorous romantic comedy, but among certain circles, it’s been one of the most discussed movies of the decade so far.

The intelligently scripted Norwegian film follows a young woman in her late-twenties (Renate Reinsve) as she navigates the existential peril of finding oneself at a crossroads in life, love, and opportunity. Its chaptered narrative structure is a profound exploration of that awkward but relatable phase in your life where sometimes you’re left with no choice but to “do you”.

Prediction: While it’s also nominated for Best International Feature, Trier’s best chance of competing will find him toe-to-toe against PTA for Licorice Pizza in the Best Original Screenplay category.

Next | Life Lessons We Can Learn From Movies' Most Prolific Stoners
March 06, 2022 /AJ Mijares
oscars, academy awards, movies, film, awards, drive my car, king richard, spiderman, belfast, encanto, disney, kristen stewart, spencer, licorice pizza, paul thomas anderson, the power of the dog, netflix, don't look up, west side story, steven spielberg, ridley scott, the last duel, house of gucci, joachim trier, the worst person in the world
Deep Dives

The Rom-Com Hall of Fame (According to a Millennial Knuckle Dragger)

February 14, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Lists

When you can’t take five steps into a CVS Pharmacy without seeing endless tunnels of heart-shaped Valentine grams, that can only mean one thing: it’s rom-com season once again. To many of us, Valentine’s Day is traditionally a time to celebrate the ones that we love by splurging for chocolates, flowers, and cozying up to a movie that probably doesn’t involve Vin Diesel.

Historically, romantic comedies are one of the more misunderstood subgenres in mainstream moviegoing. Given how much corny material has been made, it’s easy to fall into the assumption that they’re all just love stories with played-out humor and a happy ending that fades out on a wide shot of a city and a pop song by Natasha Beddingfield.

That can be true in some cases, but many of them are nuanced in ways that we don’t quite articulate on first or even second viewing. The most universally embraced rom-coms have a distinct charm, an effervescence that makes them enjoyable to watch many years later, regardless of gender. This Valentine’s Day, if your significant other would rather avoid being dragged to see Jackass Forever, here’s a curated list of rom-coms that anyone with a working pulse can enjoy.


Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

10. High Fidelity (2000) - dir. Stephen Frears

There are tons of romantic comedies told from the perspective of men; far too many are written with an unrealistic charm that isn’t always reminiscent of real people. The movie adaptation of Nick Hornby’s best-seller High Fidelity is a playful, candid exploration of the modern male identity disguised as an offbeat romantic comedy. Love is viewed as something foreign through the eyes of an underachieving music snob (John Cusack) who tries to get his ex back while simultaneously reflecting on the ghosts of relationships past.

The enduring power of High Fidelity isn’t grand romance, but rather its eclectic soundtrack and honest evaluation of accountability in relationships. Our protagonist Rob isn’t the sweep-you-off-your-feet type—he’s actually kind of a jerk. He’s a narcissist, egocentric, and crippled by his inability to take ownership of his actions. Rob must undergo a journey of self-discovery to find the error of his ways and learn how to properly commit.

Available for rent on Amazon Prime


Universal Pictures

9. About Time (2013) - dir. Richard Curtis

Written and directed by Richard Curtis, About Time feels special in that it functions on two fundamental levels: a love story of guy meets girl and a love story between father and son. Both elements converge in this sci-fi/rom-com with a sophistication and depth that will reduce even the most callous of viewers to a fleshy puddle of wailing vulnerability.

It tells the story of Tim and Mary (Domnhall Gleeson and Rachel McAdams), a picturesque couple save for one small wrinkle: Tim can travel backward in time—a trait passed down from his aging father (Bill Nighy). Through Tim’s prolonged hijinks of trying to perfect his journey in love, he learns an important lesson on letting go of the past to make room for his future. Despite the minor imperfections of its time travel mechanism, About Time upends the stale tropes of an exhausted genre to create something wholesome and fresh. Just get your Kleenex ready and don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Available for instant streaming on Netflix


New Line Cinema

8. The Wedding Singer (1998) - dir. Frank Coraci

Just a few years after his stint as a mainstay cast member on Saturday Night Live, Adam Sandler threw it back to 1985 with The Wedding Singer, a sweet and silly musical comedy about a mild-mannered romantic who falls for an engaged young woman (Drew Barrymore) after his fiance leaves him heartbroken at the altar. From Spandau Ballet to the tri-color shirts and a surprise cameo from Billy Idol, this rom-com classic radiates with a glorious mid-80s gleam.

In typical fashion, Sandler enlists the help of Happy Madison regulars Allen Covert, Kevin Nealon, Steve Buscemi, and Peter Dante to round out his zany lineup of side characters. Most notable of which is the film’s archnemesis in Matthew Glave as the cartoonishly despicable Glenn Gulia. Sporting a flamingo-pink shirt and a blinding white blazer, Glenn is the undisputed king of punchable faces and the foremost profile on the Mount Rushmore of dirtbag movie boyfriends.

Available for instant streaming on HBO Max


Columbia Pictures

7. Hitch (2005) - dir. Andy Tennant

Though the tide has begun to turn in recent years, there’s been an obvious lack of colored representation in mainstream romantic comedies since the dawn of the artform. From Just Wright to Think Like a Man, most rom-coms with colored leads generally tend to target a specified demographic. In 2005, this cultural barrier proved no challenge for Will Smith, the Philly-born superstar whose accolades continue to speak for themselves, which includes a Best Actor nomination for his most recent work on King Richard.

After Bel Air but long before he showed Venus and Serena how to perfect their backhand, Will was pining for the affections of Eva Mendes in Hitch, a self-produced film featuring colored leads that achieved mainstream recognition and global box office success. There’s a universal magnetism to Will Smith and Eva Mendes’ personalities that seemed to eclipse any perceived notions of skin color. Their onscreen pairing was a celebration of multi-culturalism in the mainstream sense that helped pave the way for a new generation of color diversity in rom-coms that is much more ubiquitous today.

Available for instant streaming on Hulu and Peacock


Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

6. Singin’ In The Rain (1952) - dir. Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen

Even for audiences who aren’t into classic cinema, Stanley Donen’s Golden Age opus has cultural reverence as an ageless rom-com with an enduring legacy that transcends age or gender. This delightful and timeless musical examines the labored transition from the silent film era to talkie cinema, which chronicles a blooming dynamic between the incumbent superstar (Gene Kelly) and a rising talent (Debbie Reynolds).

Co-directed by its leading man, who also served as principal choreographer, Singin’ In The Rain is a kaleidoscopic explosion of song, dance, color, and verve. A charming dalliance unfolds between the silent film star and a young starlet named Kathy Selden, the spunky but talented love interest. The iconic duo and their palpable chemistry helped establish blueprints for a genre whose sole aim is to make audiences smile about love.

Available for instant streaming on HBO Max


Castle Rock Entertainment

5. When Harry Met Sally (1989) - dir. Rob Reiner

The chemistry between a movie’s creative components are just as important than that of its performers. In the 32 years since its release, When Harry Met Sally only grows in the estimation as a delightful rom-com with wit, charm, and brains to boot. All credit due to the creative synergy between its director Rob Reiner and luminous screenwriter Nora Ephron; the resulting balance is a teeter-totter that explores the primitive divide between men and women with sharp and lucid perception.

The film is the preeminent example of “will they or won’t they” between Sally (Meg Ryan) and Harry (Billy Crystal), platonic friends who pass like ships in the night over the course of many years. Set to a robust, big band swoon from Harry Connick Jr., When Harry Met Sally is a hall-of-fame entry that explores the collision of gender dynamics in a way that still feels funny but truthful over three decades later.

Available for instant streaming on HBO Max


20th Century Fox

4. There’s Something About Mary (1998) - dir. The Farrelly Brothers

As the filmmakers responsible for Dumb & Dumber and Kingpin, The Farrelly Brothers had a comedic sensibility that loomed large over the nineties. In a decade ruled by entertainment on a massive visual scale, the Farrellys proved that humor can still thrive without a sinking ship or Tyrannosaurus Rex. There’s Something About Mary was one of the highest-grossing films of the year and a benchmark for the R-rated comedy boom of the forthcoming decade.

Starring Ben Stiller as the docile protagonist Ted, a man who gets another chance with the girl who got away (Cameron Diaz), the movie laid the foundation for romantic comedies with raunchy humor but a heart of gold. Much like Judd Apatow’s work in the mid-2000s, There’s Something About Mary was a humanitarian drama with absurdist hilarity. It functions as a story about being true to oneself, but is generally remembered for Cameron Diaz putting ejaculate in her hair. It was the ushering of a brave new era in comedy, one whose boundless audacity is almost completely extinct in movies today.

Available for rent on Amazon Prime and Vudu


Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

3. 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) - dir. Gil Junger

Teen culture in the late nineties hasn’t aged particularly well in many respects. From the music we consumed to the clothes we wore, so many facets are now considered relics from a bygone era—but not 10 Things I Hate About You. This beloved classic is widely recognized as a milestone of high school rom-coms with a fantastic cast, smartly written script, and a looming influence still felt over 20 years later.

It makes the most of an iconic pairing between the independent-minded Kat Stratford (Julia Stiles) and bad boy Patrick Verona (Heath Ledger). The dichotomy they share still reverberates to this day in any teen comedy where its characters seem precocious with the agency to think for themselves. Rounded out by a tremendous supporting cast in Joseph Gordon Levitt, David Krumholtz, Gabrielle Union and Allison Janney, 10 Things I Hate About You was an emblematic milestone for teenage representation in movies.

Available for instant streaming on Disney Plus


StudioCanal

2. Shaun of the Dead (2004) - dir. Edgar Wright

A case can be made that of all the great duos we’ve covered, the superlative isn’t two people but rather two genres. British filmmaker and devout cinephile Edgar Wright burst onto the scene with an instant classic that drew considerable influence from cult movies past. Finding inspiration from the work of George A. Romero, Wright blazed a name for himself in contemporary cinema by crafting one of the most celebrated films of the 21st Century in Shaun of the Dead, a zombie rom-com for people who love zombies and rom-coms.

Shaun of the Dead follows a slacker’s (Simon Pegg) fight to survive when an army of the undead wreaks havoc on London. To this day, the movie remains immensely popular with genre fans who recognize its clever and nuanced execution. Being a huge fan of movies himself, Edgar Wright constructed this film as a loving homage to the carnivorous subgenre. But at the heart of this apocalyptic zombie saga, it still manages to connect with audiences through its manchild protagonist and his wayward struggle to get his act together—or risk losing Liz (Kate Ashfield), the woman of his dreams.

Available for rent on Amazon Prime or Vudu


20th Century Fox

1. The Princess Bride (1987) - dir. Rob Reiner

There are many reasons why The Princess Bride still resonates as a cherished cult classic. For one, it’s incredibly quotable, much to the credit of its screenplay by the legendary William Goldman. Secondly, audiences love the simplicity of its plot—a swashbuckling adventure that outlines a storybook romance between Princess Buttercup (Robin Wright) and the brave farmhand Westley (Cary Elwes) and the lengths he’ll go to rescue her from the clutches of evil.

What differentiates The Princess Bride from the rest of the rabble is the sheer creativity of its execution. Rob Reiner’s fantasy world is fueled by imaginative, childlike wonder with adoring characters who speak in distinguished voices. With a colorful supporting cast that includes Wallace Shawn, Andre the Giant, Fred Savage, and Christopher Guest, this classic bursts at the seams with uncontrollable originality. Even outside the boundaries of romantic comedy, The Princess Bride stands on its own as a must-see for all ages and genders.

Available for instant streaming on Disney Plus

Next | ‘Malignant’ and the Guide to Surviving a James Wan Horror Movie
February 14, 2022 /AJ Mijares
lists, 10 things i hate about you, when harry met sally, rom-com, romantic comedy, nora ephron, rob reiner, movies, film
Lists

12 Thoughts You Have While Watching 'Eternals'

January 31, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Lists

Earlier this month, Marvel Studios released Eternals on Disney Plus. Chloe Zhao’s action fantasy chronicles the eon-spanning voyage of the eponymous Eternals, a band of immortal warriors who are thrust out of hiding to confront an ancient darkness. This globetrotting superhero epic ranked sixth in domestic returns for all of last year but as we’ve discussed, 2021 was an atypical year for box office performance.

Under the continued supervision of studio tri-heads Kevin Feige, Louis D’Esposito, and Victoria Alonso, Marvel Studios released 4 features last year with Eternals falling dead last, taking in just $165 million in stateside revenue. Those results may sound lofty but the truth is, that’s the second-worst performance for a movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, trailed only by Louis Leterrier’s The Incredible Hulk (2008).

Rotten Tomatoes

Notwithstanding the unquestionable impact of COVID-19, Eternals fell short of the mark financially as well as critically, with a word-of-mouth reputation that could best be described as ‘aggressively mediocre’. The film currently boasts a 48% rotten score but to its credit, it’s hard to sell a celestial origin story sandwiched between Phase Four juggernauts Shang Chi and Spider-Man: No Way Home. In spite of that notion, Marvel’s continued ambition encourages fans to keep up with the latest on the developing mythology—or risk falling behind on the zeitgeist.

Bearing all this in mind, I came into the Eternals streaming experience with an appropriate dissolution of expectations. As the MCU marches into its 14th year, longtime viewers can recognize that even lower-tier entries have their own unique merits. Upon viewing, it becomes clear that while Kumail Nanjiani’s granite jawline can’t single-handedly keep the film in continuous motion, that doesn’t change the fact that Eternals is one of the ballsiest undertakings in franchise history; though it’s riddled with outrageous faults, you can’t help but respect its relentless audacity. Instead of trying to extract any meaningful analysis, let’s have some fun and tap into the inner stream of thought while watching along to Marvel’s Eternals.

Some spoilers ahead


1. “An expository text crawl…what could go wrong?”

As we come to find out, Eternals is a movie with blatant disregard for the cardinal rules of storytelling. Rather than opening with the iconic Marvel Studios production intro, it starts off with a cold open, a bootleg Star Wars-ian info dump unpacking lightyears of exposition in a recap of the origins of life. To establish lore by breaking the accepted rule of “show, don’t tell” might seem clunky, though when put into perspective, doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

By this point in the MCU, we’ve seen Norse demigods, interdimensional time travel, sentient AI, and Mark Ruffalo in a Duran Duran t-shirt. As bulky as the exposition dump may seem, the MCU’s increasingly complex direction requires lore that is high-concept. Though it is somewhat clunky and formulaic, it’s more of a necessary evil at this point in the story.


2. “The landscape cinematography is better than it deserves to be.”

One of the biggest upsides of Eternals is the vision of its acclaimed director Chloe Zhao. Just one year prior, she swept the Academy Awards in two categories including Best Picture and Best Director for Nomadland. Alongside veteran MCU cinematographer Ben Davis, they render both natural and intergalactic worlds with engrossing enormity.

Where Nomadland examines the place of a wandering spirit in contrast to the windswept frontier, Eternals mirrors that visual scale, but divorces it from any emotional resonance. When your focus is placed on chiseled warlords who fly around fighting CG aliens, it becomes difficult to comprehend the scope of its physical setting. The starry cosmos and foamy rolling seas are gorgeously depicted, but who really notices when Angelina Jolie is stabbing things with a staff made of lasers?


3. “I can’t believe Marvel chose this as the movie that will finally feature a sex scene.”

In the decade-and-a-half since Marvel Studios has been making movies, not once have they attempted a sex scene, for pretty obvious reasons. Given its Disney parentage, they deal with adult themes every now and again, but these movies are generally considered kid-friendly content—that is, before Eternals came into the picture.

In order to build a romance subplot, the movie details an awkward moment of intimacy between Ikaris (Richard Madden) and his companion Sersi (Gemma Chan) after helping the ancient Babylonians build a civilization. The scene plays out in seconds with no overt sexualization, but the fact that they went there is startling. Better them than Wanda and Vision, I suppose.


4. “This movie needs a Snyder Cut.”

Just half an hour into the movie, you can distinctly feel that Eternals is reaching for something so much bigger than we expected it to. Not since Justice League has there been a superhero epic with so many overlapping storylines, tonal inconsistencies, and irrational ambition that simply can’t be jammed into a 2-and-a-half hour timeframe.

In another reality, it could have easily constituted its own 10-part streaming series or supercut that expands on the world and the characters who inhabit it. This concept runs parallel to Zack Snyder’s four-hour cut of Justice League, a flawed movie that was a vast improvement over Joss Whedon’s translation. It wasn’t perfect, but it did help prove that massive stories need to allow room for viewers to grasp its characters, their motivations, and the larger story elements.


5. “Jon Snow and Robb Stark caught in a bizarre love triangle.”

Marvel’s casting has always been instrumental to the success of their massive franchise. Even after 14 years, they still find ways to surprise viewers; in Phase Three alone, we’ve seen Sylvester Stallone as a space marauder and Matt Damon as a thespian of Asgard. In 2021, the MCU collides with Game of Thrones in one of the most outlandish casting decisions we’ve seen so far.

In Eternals, Kit Harrington plays Dane, a science professor and Sersi’s love interest in the human world. When peril strikes unexpectedly and her centuries-long brush with old flame Ikaris is reignited, the unholiest ménage à trois is born between Robb Stark, Jon Snow, and a woman coincidentally named Sersi. Audiences may have predicted how Thanos would be defeated, but no one could have guessed we’d see a love triangle play out between the half-brothers of Winterfell.


6. “We’ve reached a new low for Marvel CG.”

Since Avengers first launched us into the outer orbits of space, Marvel has fallen into a painful habit of introducing the most generic CG monsters that serve no purpose but to pose a marginal threat to the protagonists. The formula might seem time-worn, but it’s generally forgiven as a necessary evil to establish conflict.

Eternals brings that trope to a screeching halt over its mediocre depiction of Deviants, beast-like alien creatures with opposable tendons. Their strange neon luminescence counteracts the beauty and realism of Chloe Zhao’s grounded visual style. When you consider the progressively cosmic direction this franchise is going in, it’s safe to say we haven’t seen the last of the alien creatures. Or abominable cloud monsters, in Loki’s case.


7. “The time-hopping is ludicrous.”

One of the movie’s biggest struggles is following the immortal heroes through mankind’s proverbial timeline. Their voyage spans across the globe at different points in time, trying not to meddle in human conflict but imparting tools, wisdom, and resources onto primitive civilizations to help their species thrive.

In doing so, the movie follows an unconventional narrative structure that shoots back and forth in time with a frustrating lack of rhythm. Within 30 minutes, we’re whisked from a village in ancient Babylon to present-day South Dakota, then back to an Aztec temple, then forwards to present-day India. From a viewer’s standpoint, the narrative whiplash becomes too jarring to try and comprehend.


8. “Kumail Nanjiani is the single best part of this movie.”

Since his claim to fame as Dinesh on HBO’s comedy series Silicon Valley, Kumail Nanjiani has been on a colossal upswing since 2014. After finding mainstream success with his starring vehicle The Big Sick co-written with his wife Emily Gordon, he’s been nominated for an Oscar, nominated for an Emmy, and now landed a coveted role in the MCU as Kingo, the Eternals’ resident funnyman.

There’s more to the Pakistani-born actor than just his sense of humor though. He’s not just one of the funniest comedians working today, he’s also one of the most physically magnetic specimens to walk the earth, having endured an arduous transformation to prepare for his role in Eternals. Given Marvel’s push toward ethnic diversity in casting, Nanjiani is a beacon of Middle East representation in the cultural zeitgeist. In the same way that Ryan Reynolds finally found the role he was born for in Deadpool, Kumail Nanjiani’s future seems astonishingly bright as the prima donna Bollywood star Kingo.


9. “Hiroshima? Seriously?”

From Fast & Furious to Ocean’s Eleven, all great crews need an innovator; in Eternals, that role is filled by Phastos (Brian Tyree Henry), resident genius whose groundbreaking designs were intended to help mankind thrive, from field plows to steam engines. The inventor comes to a grim revelation during World War II when he stands among the ashes of a war-torn Hiroshima.

At face value, it’s easy to write off Marvel’s creative decision as tone-deaf and misguided. While the emotions are conveyed with sincerity, it seems improper to turn this true-life tragedy into a convenient plot device. Their larger intent doesn’t dawn on viewers until Phastos breaks down, lamenting a question that exposes the overarching metaphor of the entire MCU: is mankind ultimately worth saving?


10. “I love a good ‘preparing for the final battle’ montage.”

Even in preposterous movies, there’s a tangible ecstasy in the montage preceding the final battle. If Rocky can grow a beard and chop down trees in the Soviet snowstorms of Rocky IV, the Eternals can brace for mystic combat by gearing up and donning their enchanted armor in true superhero fashion.

In a movie so repeatedly derailed by its lack of consistency, the third act lead-up plays surprisingly well as an epic movie moment, much to the credit of its triumphant musical score by composer Ramin Djawadi, also known for his tremendous work on Game of Thrones.


11. “Death by sun = funniest Marvel demise ever.”

The mythological tale of Icarus, the boy undone by his own destructive ambition is re-enacted—quite comedically—when it’s revealed that Ikaris betrayed the order and led Prime Eternal Ajak (Salma Hayed) to her doom. After the remaining Eternals coalesce to thwart his treachery, he becomes wracked by guilt and wordlessly flies into the sun, apparently killing himself.

While Ikaris’ demise is portrayed as the film’s emotional reckoning, his half-baked decision was so abrupt that you can’t help but chuckle at how on-the-nose it feels. As the most powerful of the Eternals, his not-so-shocking heel turn had WWE levels of theatricality. One can almost imagine that “Ikaris -> sun” must’ve been the very first thing on the writer’s room whiteboard.


12. “From boy band to blockbuster.”

Given how ubiquitous spoiler culture has become in recent years, it was impossible not to know the details surrounding the mid-credit stinger which introduces Harry Styles as Eros, brother of the Mad Titan Thanos. Though the dramatic reveal was undercut by the introduction of Pip—his laughable CG sidekick—it delivered the long-awaited bridge between Eternals and the wider Marvel pantheon.

Since giving a surprisingly cogent performance in Christopher Nolan’s war epic Dunkirk, Harry Styles has been on the rise in terms of movie star marketability. Alongside fellow MCU newcomer Florence Pugh, the pop star will be headlining Olivia Wilde’s forthcoming psychological thriller Don’t Worry Darling, set to release in September. The details of how Marvel plans to employ him still remains to be seen but if Kevin Feige’s vision remains unchanged, there’s only One Direction this franchise can ultimately go: up and into the sun.

Next | 13 Thoughts You Have While Watching "F9”
January 31, 2022 /AJ Mijares
marvel, mcu, eternals, movies, blog
Lists

An Amusing Ballad of Disgrace and Destruction: 'Red Rocket' Reviewed

January 12, 2022 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★1/2 (3.5/5)

Sean Baker’s Red Rocket is a difficult movie to write about. Of all the movies that were released in 2021, none have been able to match the unbridled conflict that is felt while watching Simon Rex’s star-making vehicle; for those who are familiar with Sean Baker’s previous work, Red Rocket’s subject matter should come as no surprise as it doesn’t wish to pander, nor does it even concern itself with the concept of being liked. Though humorous at times, it chooses to show life as candid and as ugly as it truly can be.

As exemplified in his previous movies, writer-director Sean Baker has made a name for himself as an independent filmmaker who is drawn toward stories about those who live on the fringes of American society. In an interview with Jezebel, Baker pontificates that “the more that our stories are told about people on the margins, the less they will be on the margins simply because hopefully, it’ll lead to a greater acceptance, a greater interest, a greater empathy.”

‘Empathetic’ is the best word to describe how Sean Baker’s films examine the lives of their colorful characters; from sex workers in Tangerine to destitute motel families in The Florida Project, his canon tells underserved stories from voiceless communities. That brings us to his latest, Red Rocket, the acidic tale of a charismatic dirtbag who lives in a hell of his own design.


The film is careful to do all but suggest empathy for the actions of its POV character Mikey Saber, the fast-talking antihero of Red Rocket. From the opening scene, we’re told everything we need to know about the disgraced porn actor who returns to his hometown of Texas City in search of his latest hustle, using anyone he can for his own personal gain. Rather than paint him in a light that encourages viewers to feel for the situations he finds himself in, Baker forces us into the driver’s seat, bearing witness to all of his manipulative schemes, only to watch them tumble like dominoes before our very eyes.

Despite all of his nasty schemes we’re made to voyeuristically endure, we still manage to understand how a person in Mikey’s position can live with the choices he makes. He’s portrayed as a begrudgingly lovable guy; he’s driven, magnetic, and tremendously self-confident, but at the end of the day, who wants to hire an exiled porn star to serve food or tend bar? This humanitarian dilemma is the beating heart of Sean Baker’s work, a filmmaker whose characters reflect situations that feel more than just plausible, but achingly real.


“He’s like a cute dog that pees on the rug and doesn’t know what they’re doing. He just blindly walks through life, f*cking sh*t up, but I don’t really think he has horrible intentions. He’s just surviving.”

Simon Rex | Collider


Throughout its two-hour runtime, we watch through clenched teeth as Mikey spends aimless days strutting around half-naked, bumming car rides off neighbors, selling weed to hard hats, but most damning of all, taking interest in a bright-eyed 17-year old girl who he sees as his ticket back to marginal glory in the L.A. porn scene—all while living under one roof with his estranged wife in her mother’s home. The perspective remains fixed on all of his follies that are inherently humorous and make us laugh reluctantly, but with an undercurrent of solemn repulsion for how low this man-child will inevitably sink.

At the center of Red Rocket is a career-defining performance from Simon Rex, a comedy actor who has never been so perfectly matched with a role so fitted to his larger-than-life persona. His manic energy and boundless confidence help illustrate Mikey Saber as a complex guy who flirts with the feeble balance between charm and sleaze, the kind of person you know exists in real life. Along with his standout co-stars Bree Elrod, Brenda Deiss, Brittney Rodriguez, Ethan Darbonne, and Judy Hill—most of which are Galveston natives with no prior acting experience—they bring an overlay of authenticity to this sun-baked Texas town.

Serving as a counterpoint to our washed-up antihero is breakout sensation Suzanna Son as Strawberry, the witty but wild-at-heart teenager who Mikey takes a problematic interest in. In portraying their relationship, Baker pulls no punches and chronicles their fling without regard for the illusion of moral boundaries. Despite Son being an actor in her mid-20s, we cringe watching their tryst unfold through Mikey’s male gaze because its filmmaker challenges viewers to perceive Strawberry as objectively as he does. While this illicit affair does tend to impose on the movie’s overall viewing experience, the unyielding boldness of its execution will undoubtedly have people talking about it for years to come.


“Everybody has their flaws. That’s very important for me to explore in a truthful way.”

Sean Baker | Jezebel


By using his films to inspire compassion for underserved communities, Baker implores audiences to see the inherent beauty in them that he sees. From the urban sprawl of West Hollywood to the boulevards of Kissimmee, there’s an endearing warmth in the visual depiction of his shooting locations. Despite surroundings that are often stripped down and bleak, his skies are contrastingly rendered as explosions of pastel light. In rooms filled with blunt smoke and neon-coated walls, the essence of Baker’s visual palette is ultimately a microcosm of his work at large: a clash between realism and life’s natural splendor.

Red Rocket interprets life in Texas City with organic provincial charm and a scorching Southern glow. It builds character in the environment through its honest depiction of a working-class town: power lines, trap houses, smokestacks, and donut shops, the iconography of faded Americana. They’re often captured in wide shots against lush backdrops of sunset vistas—objectively stunning but mostly unnoticed by its residents. Baker’s intentional direction of this glaring juxtaposition captures the overlooked beauty in unexpected places.


When thinking of Red Rocket in terms of relational comparison, a great place to start is the recent work of Josh and Benny Safdie. In both Good Time and Uncut Gems, the stories are driven by conniving manipulators who build towering houses of cards, only to watch them collapse in abrupt and dramatic fashion. Red Rocket pushes that envelope by stripping its drama bare in quite the literal sense.

That’s not to say Red Rocket is a crime thriller; the film is infused with sufficient buffoonery to qualify as a dark comedy at heart, but it does tend to deviate from Sean Baker’s previous work in fascinating ways. Where his movies usually strive to inspire empathy for people and communities of dire circumstance, his latest entry tests the elasticity of our empathy by rendering the perspective of a “suitcase pimp”, an irredeemable archetype that actually exists in the adult film world.

With Mikey Saber as our avatar, we’re forced to experience life as a man who lives free of any semblance of shame because he doesn’t really know any other way to live. The movie doesn’t try to pardon his horrible behavior, but rather portray it objectively. After the end credits have rolled and the NSYNC has faded out, we’re confronted by the sheer weight of its honesty. As award nomination season looms, A24’s Red Rocket should be recognized as an ambitious comedy-drama that is not without faults but as Sean Baker’s body of work would argue: which of us isn’t?

Next | New Horizons: How Movies Can Teach Us To Start Over
January 12, 2022 /AJ Mijares
red rocket, simon rex, movies, review
Reviews

Top 10 Movies of 2021 (and Where to Find Them)

December 31, 2021 by AJ Mijares in Lists

It’s been an unprecedented year in entertainment, to say the very least. In the shapeless wake of 2020, movie fans have acclimated themselves to an obscure type of normal characterized by release delays, pushed movies from last year, and a stupendously back-loaded final quarter. The past 12 months have given us a grab-bag of total bombs, hidden gems, influential documentaries, enormous franchise entries, and rhapsodic prestige feature films—many of which through streaming platforms over theatrical.

As last year’s would-be blockbuster Tenet came to forecast, 2021 was a shaky year for the industry’s profitability. As the pandemic stands at the precipice of its second year in the US, movie fans can distinctly feel the culture undergoing a seismic transition. Continued volatility in box office returns reflects an ongoing disinterest in the in-theater experience for anything outside the Marvel canon. More studios are opting for a limited theatrical release, if not a straight-to-VOD model, especially for those non-franchise titles. Many others are opting to produce miniseries’ rather than feature films, causing concern about the long-term viability of antiquated customs.

With so few titles that actually embedded themselves into the mainstream awareness, there were a number of movies that still managed to stray ahead of the pack. Some of which were reputed as event films, though others received little to no marketing at all. Though all of them vary in genre and scale, they’re united under the banner of 2021, a year that reset our baseline for equilibrium. The art reflects a search for resolve in times of change—a prevalent theme that resonates far too well in real life.


10. Godzilla vs. Kong - dir. Adam Wingard

This may come as a surprise but the truth is that there’s been no massive spectacle that was able to top the sugar rush of sheer destruction like Godzilla vs. Kong. Adam Wingard’s colorful creature feature was a thoroughly entertaining adventure and the first movie this year to breach the $100m mark at the box office, despite going straight to HBO Max on the same day. Although each of the films in both of Legendary’s respective franchises yielded far greater returns than this, Godzilla vs. Kong was a beacon of hope, a fuzzy-fisted haymaker of normality.

It may lack the subtlety or pathos of many other movies you’ll see on this list, but it’s hard to think of a movie that can match the unbridled joy of seeing a 50,000-ton ape throwing a right hook to the face of a giant neon lizard. In an interview with RogerEbert.com, filmmaker Adam Wingard reflected “there were plenty of times where I didn’t even think this goal would be possible. But here we are, and it was such a great experience to be able to work off of pure imagination”. Wingard’s push from indie movies into blockbuster filmmaking was a monstrous event that highlighted the importance of letting your brain take a backseat.

Available for instant streaming on HBO Max


Related | Let Them Fight: A ‘Godzilla vs. Kong' Review

9. No Sudden Move - dir. Steven Soderbergh

It’s no world-stopping blockbuster, but Steven Soderbergh’s crafty crime caper No Sudden Move is a sharp shot of clever storytelling. Set against the pre-segregated cityscape of 1950s Detroit, this movie might depict a relic of cultural antiquity but its story explores the unchanging aspects of greed and human nature. That’s not to say the movie isn’t fun; its jags and clever plot twists will keep you guessing throughout. With some great lead performances by Don Cheadle and Benicio Del Toro, it stands as one of the more understated moviegoing experiences of the year.

The movie moves with a cool, jazzy strut and a snappy musical score by Soderbergh’s longtime collaborator David Holmes. With a distinguished body of work that includes Ocean’s Eleven and Logan Lucky, stylish crime capers have clearly been a recurring motif for Steven Soderbergh, a filmmaker who consummately understands the importance of setting a strong vibe, from the characters to the music. And if still you aren’t sold, have I mentioned that Brendan Fraser is in this movie?

Available for instant streaming on HBO Max


8. Inside - dir. Bo Burnham

I know what you might be thinking: Bo Burnham’s Inside is more of a comedy special than a movie. One could feasibly make that argument—but given its deeply meditative nature, feature film runtime, and the fact that it got a limited theatrical release, the 30-year old comedian shows a sensational talent for building a bouncy oddball narrative in the isolated struggle to stay inside, both physically and emotionally.

Burnham’s latest work is an exhaustive solo effort, fusing highly creative song performance with darkly humorous sketch, all within the walls of a single setting. Despite seeing his onscreen emotional reckoning unfold in real time, his absurdist comedy shines through with impeccable timing. Its poignant resonance rivals that of a narrative drama and as an objective body of work, Bo paints a funny but moving portrait of human vulnerability during times of uncertainty. This high-wire act is an incredible artifact of our time and to date, stands as one of the best artistic reflections on the COVID-19 pandemic.

Available for instant streaming on Netflix


7. Don’t Look Up - dir. Adam McKay

Given the world’s current state of tumult on a massive global scale, it only makes sense why Adam McKay felt it necessary to tell this darkly comedic satire about the end of the civilized world. Since diverting from broader comedies like Step Brothers, McKay has occupied himself with numerous entries that strike a fine line between levity and true-life catastrophe. In an interview with Vox, McKay mentions “I think when you hit dynamics this warped, you kind of have to laugh. Laughter and anger are the two states you shift between.”

Taking a satirical poke to American society’s touchier subjects is a formula he’s found himself returning to since 2015’s The Big Short. His latest straight-to-Netflix release Don’t Look Up is pretty ham-fisted about its metaphors on climate change, but its ensemble cast of Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill, and Rob Morgan (just to name a few) help inflate this calamitous doomsday prophecy with enough laugh-out-loud humor to float as a standalone comedy, though it leaves you with an outer layer of realism that is as ominous as it is an honest reflection of our time.

Available for instant streaming on Netflix


6. Titane - dir. Julia Ducournau

When observing 2021 as a whole, it’s clear to see that it’s been a male-dominated year in mainstream moviegoing. From Free Guy to F9 and No Time to Die, a majority of the year’s biggest and most successful titles are disproportionately slanted toward male audiences. With Chloe Zhao becoming the second woman to win Best Director for Nomadland at the Academy Awards, you can start to feel fractures forming in the barrier for talented female storytellers; at the frontlines of this groundbreaking cinematic movement stands provocative French filmmaker Julia Ducournau.

Her incendiary sophomore feature film Titane won the Palm d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival and will be remembered as one of the most disruptive moviegoing experiences of the year. It tells the story of Alexia, a troubled young woman who spirals into a violent identity crisis after a childhood car crash leaves her with a titanium plate in her skull. In a time where most movies are so often characterized by their corporate sanitization, Titane’s beauty lies in its balance of tenderness and unflinching brutality.

Much like her acclaimed debut with 2018’s Raw, Ducournau’s radical arthouse horror tells a touching story at its core, despite being graphic, bizarre, and just plain filthy on its surface. Her penchant for unconventional cinematic storytelling imbues the film with a deep irreverence for boundaries in a way that feels so much fresher than anything else available. It’s not an easy sit-through, but for bold viewers who crave uncompromising artistry, look no further.

Available for rent on Vudu


5. The Harder They Fall - dir. Jeymes Samuel

In recent years, the Old West subgenre has failed to generate the mainstream momentum it once had when young giants Clint Eastwood and Paul Newman grazed big screens. Sure, there’s been a few scattered titles littered throughout each decade; the ‘90s had Unforgiven, the 2000s had The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, and the 2010s had Django Unchained. If past dictates present, it seems our contemporary cultural shift has given each respective decade only one or two shots to produce a proverbial Western classic.

Jeymes Samuel’s The Harder They Fall isn’t poised with the dusty eloquence of a Sergio Leone film, but rather chooses to pave its own way as an homage to the gunslingers of yore with a blaxploitation twist that reopens the genre for modern-day audiences. This blood-soaked revenge thriller follows a scorned outlaw seeking retribution for the man who murdered his family after he is released from prison.

Lead by an outstanding lead cast in Jonathan Majors, Lakeith Stanfield, Zazie Beetz, Regina King, Idris Elba, and Delroy Lindo, the film stomps with incredible confidence and reinvigorates all that we find cool about the Wild West. The gunplay is calamitous and comic book-like, so the action unfolds like a modernized cross between Tombstone and Kingsman. Set to a thunderous contemporary soundtrack that celebrates Black culture, The Harder They Fall reimagines Western cinema in the rowdiest shoot-em-up of the decade so far.

Available for instant streaming on Netflix


4. West Side Story - dir. Steven Spielberg

Over the course of an illustrious 40 year span, Steven Spielberg has firmly cemented his legacy as a godhead of modern cinema—though in recent years, he hasn’t been able to rekindle the joyous wonders of E.T. or the unbridled terrors of Saving Private Ryan. When it was announced he was going to take on West Side Story, the skepticism ran roughshod and questioned the need for another remake that no one seemed to ask for.

The maestro makes no labor to rewrite a Shakespearean tragedy but greatly succeeds at breathing fresh new life into the world of West Side Story. The story beats are wound tighter than a drum, the choreography feels more lively, the camera movements are more dynamic, the skirmishes feel grittier and war-like. Set to the racially divided backdrop of 1950s New York, this outstanding adaptation of one of cinema’s most celebrated classics is a masterclass of cinematic re-telling and an amazing return to form for Steven Spielberg.

Now in theaters nationwide


3. The Green Knight - dir. David Lowery

More akin to a stained glass hero’s fable than a hack-and-slash medieval conquest, David Lowery’s The Green Knight got a lot of buzz from indie crowds by carving out its own realm of Arthurian fantasy. The film takes place in ancient England on a wintry Yuletide night when a mysterious woodland warrior pays a visit to the round table. After throwing down a challenge to King Arthur’s headstrong nephew Gawain, he must depart the comforts of home to embark on a perilous quest to find his own legacy.

Crafted with an intense devotion to historical accuracy in the grandest scale, The Green Knight is one of the most beautifully shot films of the decade so far. The prose is somber and poetic so its story plays out like timeless folklore, propped up on a tremendous lead performance by Dev Patel. Lowery’s meditative opus is a resounding work that interrogates and reframes our definition of ‘greatness’, though those in search of an old English action movie may want to consider looking elsewhere.

Available for rent on Vudu, Prime Video, or Apple TV


Related | A Tale of Valor & Virtue: 'The Green Knight' Review

2. Dune - dir. Denis Villeneuve

Frank Herbert’s famously unadaptable sci-fi epic is translated with groundbreaking panache in Denis Villeneuve’s Dune, the first of a two-part film series. With a track record that includes Arrival and Blade Runner 2049, the French-Canadian filmmaker is no stranger to event films that capitalize on spectacle. His latest is widely being recognized as his magnum opus, a blockbuster exhibition, and the crown jewel of effects-driven cinema since Avatar in 2009.

Contrary to David Lynch’s notoriously troubled 1984 film adaptation, Villeneuve’s far-reaching premise is streamlined by sticking closely to its hero’s journey; the movie follows Paul Atreides, a gifted young man caught in the crossfire of a massive interplanetary war. With an ensemble cast comprised of Timothee Chalamet, Josh Brolin, Jason Momoa, Oscar Isaac, and Rebecca Ferguson, the movie never feels overbearing but functions rather beautifully at every given level.

Villeneuve transports viewers to the warm sands of Arrakis, a nutrient-rich desert shot with a colossal sense of futurism and scale. In spite of its day-and-date release on HBO Max, the film is a breathtaking achievement of visual storytelling whose sensory immersion is amplified by the in-theater experience. The unfortunate reality is Dune made less than $400 million worldwide at the box office this year—a number that doesn’t hold a candle to the highest-earning titles of the last decade. Regardless, it stands to reason that Villeneuve’s sweeping epic will be remembered as one of the boldest undertakings in the history of science fiction.

Available for rent on Vudu, Prime Video, or Apple TV


1. Pig - dir. Michael Sarnoski

For several years running, the lord of eccentricity Nicolas Cage has been marching proudly to the beat of his own drum. From starring in the psychedelic brain-melter Mandy to voice-acting as the protagonist Grug in The Croods: A New Age, the sheer depth of roles that Cage has taken on shows a full-formed realization of his true gift as a performer. They don’t always work but evidently, fans couldn’t be happier.

Cage delivers a tour-de-force performance in Michael Sarnoski’s Pig, one of the year’s most surprising and powerful dramas. This low-budget gem follows Rob, a reclusive truffle hunter who lives in the remote Oregon wilderness with his beloved foraging pig. When his home is broken into and she’s stolen in the dead of night, Rob goes on a tireless search through Portland’s culinary underground to find his treasured friend.

What sets this performance apart isn’t Cage’s unpredictability that audiences have come to expect, but rather his restraint as the derelict protagonist Rob. In order to best serve the emotional demands of the story, his role requires a tremendous amount of subtlety and quiet pain. By stripping that inherent sarcasm, the film becomes a somber portrait of alienation and belonging that helps remind us why Nicolas Cage has endured in the cultural continuum.

Available for instant streaming on Hulu

December 31, 2021 /AJ Mijares
film, movies, 2021, west side story, pig, the green knight, lists, pop culture
Lists

Back to the Long and Winding Road: "The Beatles: Get Back" Review

December 07, 2021 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★★1/2 (4.5/5)

It’s been less than 2 weeks since its release on Disney Plus and already Peter Jackson’s The Beatles: Get Back is being hailed as one of the most groundbreaking chronicles of music in our time. For one, because it examines the Fab Four at a storied crossroads with an extraordinary level of access. Secondly, it untangles the epic mythology behind their infamous breakup. The enduring myth behind their final days has plagued fans and historians for over 50 years—this yuletide season, we finally have the chance to be a fly on the wall of the most iconic finale in music history.

The Beatles: Get Back is an astonishing three-part docuseries that follows John, Paul, George, and Ringo in their ongoing struggle to find creative harmony while finishing their final album and landmark rooftop performance in London. Sifting through 22 days worth of archival footage originally captured for Michael Lindsey-Hogg’s documentary Let It Be (1970), Peter Jackson uses cutting-edge restorative techniques to re-immortalize the Fab Four and breathe new life into their fabled story.

Told in three 2.5 hour segments, Jackson gives a bounty of unfiltered context to The Beatles and their famously contentious dynamics. Creatively and personally, it explores the granular depths of their chemistry and delivers incredible perspective on the friction between all members of the band. While it can feel a little weighed down by its runtime, viewers also implicitly understand the importance of overexposure as a means to bring us closer to understanding each member.


“It’s been unseen for half a century and it’s our responsibility to show people this is the raw, honest Beatles”

Peter Jackson


Throughout the 7 total hours of runtime, viewers will come to better identify the strength of personality that played a huge factor in the band’s eventual split. As we come to find out, the four are incredibly self-aware of themselves, their talents, and their individual role within the band, which sometimes can complicate their dynamic as childhood friends who just love to play music. Though rifts clearly begin to emerge, at no point throughout this docuseries are we led to believe there’s an ounce of genuine disdain between any of them.

The docuseries does a great job of not just providing context for the band’s four members, but also those who are within their immediate orbit. At one point, Billy Preston comes into the London studio to jam with them, only to wind up sticking around when they realize how much his keyboard enlivens their sound. Additionally, Paul’s beautiful soon-to-be wife Linda Eastman and her daughter Heather are frequently shown during recording sessions. But the most insightful impression that comes to light is John’s legendarily peculiar relationship with Yoko Ono.

Throughout the three segments, Yoko is constantly shown sitting next to John during recording sessions and band meetings. Sometimes, he lovingly leans on her as he strums his guitar or grabs her for an impromptu dance while Paul plays the piano. Other times, she’s given the microphone to shriek like a banshee—yet still, the band plays on. The Beatles: Get Back makes it abundantly clear that, despite how perplexing their romance was, all members respected that John and Yoko were simply inextricable. At one point while discussing her presence, Paul sarcastically remarks that “they broke up because Yoko sat on an amp”—a joke that will come to foretell the next half-century of contentious dispute.


From a technical standpoint, the footage restoration is nothing short of spectacular and one could think of no better director to spearhead such a monumental project than Peter Jackson. The New Zealand-based filmmaker is no stranger to revival as is shown by his acclaimed World War I documentary They Shall Not Grow Old (2018). Using advanced restorative audio/visual techniques, he resurrected the sights and sounds of trench warfare an entire century prior.

Using similar technological advancements, Jackson brings 1969 back to life in all its vivid glory to re-immortalize The Beatles in living sound and color. From Ringo’s vibrant floral shirts to the steely twang of Lennon’s guitar during the opening strains of “I’ve Got a Feeling”, the movie delivers on several moments of jaw-dropping elation for how modern the footage really feels. The sharp realism emotes contagious energy that helps demonstrate how some artists can transcend the boundaries of a generational divide.

In the realm of pop culture, eternalizing our legends is an ever-evolving challenge. In order to keep their mythology alive for younger generations, they need a reference point that makes them easily accessible. While there are countless ways in 2021 to access the music they leave behind, The Beatles: Get Back is a milestone that will guide future generations to experience their enduring appeal in true, fluid motion.


In terms of function, the film works in two distinct ways: primarily as a historical document of The Beatles at their ill-fated peak, and secondly, as the most epic hangout movie ever assembled. Though there is no real narrative, storylines begin to emerge while viewers sit for 7 hours and digest the full breadth of John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Especially for viewers who come into the experience with a sense for who these people are and what their personalities are like, one can’t help but feel delighted by their silly antics and dry British humor.

Getting to spend such quality time with The Beatles and seeing their creative process unfold gives so much contextual depth to their chemistry as bandmates. Understanding the background helps us unspool the sordid mythology behind some of culture’s most burning questions about their seismic breakup—the “what really happened?”. We watch as their ideologies clash and create little skirmishes within the band, though when it’s time to unify, their sheer greatness always shines through.

Though life took them all in separate (sometimes tragic) directions, in the end, the four Beatles will forever be remembered by the one special thing that bound them all together: true friendship. Therein lies the unassailable charm of The Beatles: Get Back, it’s warmly reminiscent of the joy of spending time with good old friends. And while musical trends come and go, it’s the memories that stay with us the most; Peter Jackson’s latest work revitalizes that memory for generations to come.

NEXT | 25 Years of Wonder: ‘That Thing You Do’ Revisited
December 07, 2021 /AJ Mijares
the beatles, get back, peter jackson, documentary
Reviews

25 Years of Wonder: 'That Thing You Do' Revisited

November 29, 2021 by AJ Mijares in The New Classics

As moviegoers, we often refer to films as things that we see; it often becomes easy to forget about the way their sounds can move us as viewers. Some audio cues wield so much power, they activate dormant energies that permeate the surface and force a physical reaction out of us. For a joyous mid-90s musical classic like Tom Hanks’ That Thing You Do, the sounds are what stay with us the most—though the details are what keep us jiving back to it a quarter-century later.

Chances are, you can summon the iconic drum intro in your head right now: boom, clap clap, boom clap. This charismatic comedy-drama resurrects the 1960’s pop scene with an uptempo verve and vintage charm that achieved moderate box office success and featured a soundtrack that climbed the real-world Billboard charts. The film chronicles the rise and fall of a 4-piece rock outfit from Erie, PA amidst the landscape of a sprawling ‘60s stable of pop stars.

The delightful period piece was written, directed by, and co-stars Tom Hanks as Mr. White, A&R for the fictitious Playtone Records with a strong eye for rising talent. That Thing You Do fizzles with the warmth and effortless affability of Hanks himself, his heartfelt nostalgia for a bygone era illuminates the big screen and feels fondly remembered from its sharp-eyed production design to the retro hair and costuming. While Hanks’ directorial debut doesn’t get spoken about much, it’s overwhelmingly adored by those who remember it.


That Thing You Do is a dearly beloved ‘90s film that really taps into our belated cultural romanticization for the ‘60s. In the immediate wake of last weekend’s arrival of Get Back, Peter Jackson’s new Beatles docuseries, Hanks’ soulful throwback resonates now more than ever as a definitive era movie, especially considering how deeply it’s indebted to the most iconic (and some more forgettable) bands of the 1960s.

We watch the saga unfold through the eyes of smalltown appliance store clerk Guy Patterson (Tom Everett Scott). Referred to by one peer as “Erie’s lone beatnik”, the well-liked drummer gets the chance of a lifetime when he’s approached by his friends to play percussion for their garage band project in a local talent show to compete for a small cash prize. Enter his bandmates: the self-absorbed frontman Jimmy (Jonathan Schaech), the immature lead guitarist Lenny (Steve Zahn), and the nameless bass player famously credited only as The Bass Player (Ethan Embry).

After scorching the college talent show and achieving regional notoriety, the comically dubbed ‘One-Ders’ (a play on the word ‘wonder’) catch the attention of a traveling band manager who gets their music on the radio and arranges a fateful meeting with Mr. White, who signs them to a label and invites them on a North American tour. The newly christened ‘Wonders’ are whiplashed by the suddenness of their meteoric rise as they enjoy the many perks of celebrity stardom, though they quickly learn the challenges of keeping the band’s momentum on track.


“Everybody has to be able to compliment each other. The thing that I was always going for was that you could always have a choice of who your favorite Wonder was.”

Tom Hanks


The movie is enlivened by the energy of its spangled musical performances but the glue of this film is the people who hold it all together. Hanks’ characters feel distinctly rendered, each one memorable in their own unique way. Furthermore, the chemistry between all of the bandmates is never left ambiguous, which is difficult to accomplish in movies about bands. Their inherent dynamic propels the film from being just a catchy musical to being a sincere tale about friendship, ego, and the untimely burdens of success.

Tom Everett Scott gives a warm, definitive performance as the musically gifted Guy. Like all drummers, he serves as the narrative’s backbone, keeping the story in rhythm. Guy’s keen musical instincts are bolstered by his enduring love for jazz—a prescient character concept by 1996 standards. He plays in measured conflict with the band’s overbearing songwriter Jimmy, the handsome but flawed frontman. While guitarists Lenny and T.B. Player don’t have as much weight to hold, they complete this famous foursome and provide much-needed levity throughout.

Within The Wonders’ immediate orbit, we find Tom Hanks and a 19-year old Liv Tyler as Faye, Jimmy’s girlfriend and the band’s wardrobe manager. Her soft-spoken, doe-eyed enchantment remains a staple in the pantheon of mid-90s love interests. The film boasts a staggering galaxy of supporting talent that includes Bryan Cranston, Giovanni Ribisi, Bill Cobbs, Rita Wilson, and Charlize Theron, and Colin Hanks in his onscreen debut.


Living up to its reputation as a musical, the eponymous hit single That Thing You Do is heard 8 times throughout the film. Yet still, after all this time, it never manages to get on your nerves. Hanks finds a cohesive rhythm with a blend of original songs and a snappy musical score by Howard Shore that keeps the movie bouncing. From opening to closing credits, all of the accompanying music is fun, energetic, and never feels contrived by the story.

That propulsive energy is also felt in its set and costume design; Hanks is pitch-perfect at creating an authentic, vintage feel without overreaching. Assembling a world-class team of art directors and production designers, That Thing You Do transports viewers into the 60s like no other film of its time. The antiquated colors, the tube TV sets, the clock radios, the skinny suits are all imprints pulled from a fragment of Tom Hanks’ vivid memories of the past. The end result is a labor of love, seen and felt through the eyes of someone who has lived it for themselves.


“What I’m truly hoping for is that the audience is able to sit down and watch this thing and say ‘that was an incredibly refreshing change of pace’.”

Tom Hanks


As the cultural lexicon keeps inching toward broader definitions of mainstream entertainment, the allure of That Thing You Do is only made clearer 25 years later. Now more than ever, the movie captures an intimacy that isn’t quite common anymore; its contagious musical energy is pure without being corny and its true-blue authenticity injects it with a playful sense of nostalgia for the past.

For younger generations who enjoy That Thing You Do, there’s a timeless charm to it that feels somewhat transcendent. Over time it’s evolved into more than just a movie, but a keyhole into America’s past. For those who have never lived it, the film becomes a reference point of how we perceive the 1960s, much like Tarantino’s work on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Just like Tarantino, Hanks infuses the film with his unmistakable sentimentality in a way that elevates his characters to transcend the boundaries of fiction. So much so that with each new viewing, The Wonders cease to be characters—but rather, more like old friends.

NEXT | The New Classics: Revisiting ‘Mortal Kombat’
November 29, 2021 /AJ Mijares
that thing you do, tom hanks, music, movies, film
The New Classics
malignant.jpg

"Malignant" and the Guide To Surviving a James Wan Horror Movie

October 30, 2021 by AJ Mijares in Lists

The early 2000s were an abysmal time for horror movies. Save for a few notable exceptions, the new millennium summoned from the depths of hell a horde of sequels and remakes that achieved financial success, though they’ve pretty much dissipated from all cultural importance whatsoever—think Blair Witch Project 2: Book of Shadows. In 2003, a pair of Australian pals set out to shatter the paradigm and began work on something fresh, something cerebral and raw. What materialized was a low-budget puzzle movie about two men trapped in a room; a simple premise with unflinching execution.

That film was Saw, a huge commercial success and one of the most ballsy, original films of the last quarter-century. Until then, it was ludicrous to think that a movie about a man who has to carve his own limbs off would ever achieve mainstream popularity. At that moment, with the help of his screenwriting companion/co-star Leigh Whannell, James Wan threw his name in the hat as one of the most visionary horror talents in a sea of faceless filmmakers, thus becoming one of the first mainstream horror directors to emerge in the new millennium.

Fast forwarding 17 years, James Wan has transcended his mold to become a staple of blockbuster filmmaking and the driving force behind some of the most successful franchises in the history of cinema. As a director/producer, his horror films have amassed over $3.8 billion in global revenue. His latest Malignant which hit theaters and HBO Max last month is a pulpy return to form that takes his work in a fun new direction and sets the tone for this calamitous Halloween season.

As an avid horror fan (and former Cub Scout), I like to think there are some important survival tips that viewers can absorb from these blood-curdling tales. To see the end credits of his twisted nightmare scenarios, you must operate by a rigid set of principles and follow them blindly as your biggest keys to survival. So follow along, if you’ve got the stomach for it.


Writer’s Note: Many notable films have been left off this list. For convenience, I only included the horror movies that Wan directed.


  1. If you spring awake to find yourself chained to a pipe, look out for yourself before helping others - Saw (2004)

It’s hard to fully articulate the ground-shaking impact of James Wan’s depraved inaugural feature. This pale, twisted lovechild of Cube and Seven is an unnerving horror experience that has withstood the test of time and spawned so many sequels, they give James Bond a run for his money. The film follows Adam (Leigh Whannell) and Lawrence (Cary Elwes), two strangers who’ve been chained to a pipe in an abandoned room by a killer obsessed with teaching his victims a morbid lesson.

Toward the end of the film, we reach a revelation that still incites frustration at an obvious logistic flaw on part of the co-protagonist Adam. Considering he’s fallen prey to a killer who obsesses over teaching virtue, his most important lesson is learned when he realizes the key to his own lock floated down the drain of the tub he woke up in. This clever moment is seared into the minds of horror fans worldwide and helped establish Wan’s legacy as a filmmaker who isn’t afraid of going the distance.


2. If investigating a murder case where a ventriloquist dummy is your suspect, quit your job and find a new calling - Dead Silence (2007)

Wan’s biggest box office bomb also happened to achieve retroactive cult status among horror fanatics for its cheap scares and corny thrill. Sitting at 21% on Rotten Tomatoes, his third studio feature Dead Silence was predictable, poorly acted, and fell beneath the benchmark established by Saw, but carved its own legacy of tapping into our primordial fear of possessed dolls long before Wan explored this territory with Annabelle.

Despite some inherent flaws, Wan presented his natural ability to construct sequences that induce jumpy tension through unnerving imagery. It’s not very sophisticated, but it’s pulpy and dynamic with an energy that feels nightmarish compared to the barbaric realism of Saw. Rather, Dead Silence goes for pure hellspawned terror in a world where an enchanted nursery rhyme can summon a creepy wooden puppet to sever your tongue with a pair of scissors. Sadly for protagonist Detective Jim Lipton (Donnie Wahlberg), he learns his lesson far too late.


3. If a family member starts astral traveling to a ghost dimension, disown them - Insidious (2011)

Insidious is James Wan’s first splash into sophisticated supernatural horror with a high-concept twist. This lo-fi blockbuster makes the most of its $2 million budget while taking audiences to “The Further”, an otherworldly dimension inhabited by malevolent spirits, in relentless pursuit of a human host to invade the land of the living.

Unlike his previously directed horror entries, Wan sidesteps the shock-and-awe obscenity for a more intelligent, patient PG-13 story that affixes our perspective to a family of likable, well-acted characters spearheaded by Rose Byrne and Patrick Wilson. The Lambert family patriarch (Wilson) must confront the demons of his childhood when he learns that access to The Further was hereditarily passed down onto Dalton (Ty Simpkins), his 12-year-old son. Staring into the hideous face of an ancient demon, family bonds are important and all—but sometimes you just have to know when to pick your battles.


4. If your dog dies within one day of moving into a new house, burn it to the ground - The Conjuring (2014)

For non-horror fans, one of their more understandable takes against the genre is the fact that horror movie characters aren’t generally known for their smart or informed decisions. We’ve joked about it for decades and one of its most classic examples also happens to be the crown jewel in James Wan’s illustrious canon. Based on the true-life cases of paranormal researchers Ed and Lorraine Warren, The Conjuring to this day remains one of the most important haunted house movies of all time.

Upon release, it found colossal success—the aftershocks of which carry onto the present day, having spawned two direct sequels and five spin-offs that have grossed over $2.1 billion in less than 10 years. The Conjuring shifted the landscape of horror by popularizing the idea of an interconnected universe, much to the dismay of the film’s afflicted protagonists, the Perron family. After moving into an obviously haunted farmhouse in the remote brush of Rhode Island, they choose to do nothing when their family dog Sadie is found dead the very next day. Moving might be an expensive ordeal but to stay put is pretty much asking for it.


5. If you start astral traveling and become possessed, you clearly didn’t follow the third rule - Insidious: Chapter 2 (2015)

Though the Saw franchise churned out an astounding number of Wan-produced sequels, Insidious: Chapter 2 was the first sequel that he ever actually directed—and it certainly shows. Coming back to the creative well he first sprung in the Further, this film showcased a polished refinement in his directorial instinct, with a number of stylistic flourishes that help expand the lens through which we see his world.

The premise follows patriarch Josh Lambert (Patrick Wilson) who can’t seem to catch a break in the Further, as this sequel finds him possessed by a vengeful spirit he encounters in the first film. This worthy follow-up breaks the “bad sequel” curse that is so regularly suffered by horror franchises and finds inventive new ways to make audiences tremble with fear. For poor Patrick Wilson, the undisputed Scream King of the extended Wan-iverse, the curse in this sequel seems much too literal.


6. Inverted crucifix means “not welcome here” - The Conjuring 2 (2018)

Unsettling religious imagery is a crystallization of what makes horror movies so exhilarating: an otherworldly occurrence that defies all hope, logic, and reason. Even for people who don’t consider themselves religious, it’s common knowledge by this point that an upside-down crucifix spells nothing but bad news. The Warrens find out the hard way in The Conjuring 2 as they venture across the pond to help out a God-fearing Enfield family who are tormented by the spirit of a wretched old man.

The success of The Conjuring universe owes a lot to its grounding in spiritualism and faith. One of the franchise’s most iconic scenes features the Hodgson family’s second-eldest daughter Janet (Madison Wolfe) trapped in a dark room littered with crucifixes. Hyperventilation kicks in as the mounted crosses start turning upside down on their own, which culminates in a terrifying jumpscare that feels rightly earned. This hair-raising moment is a snapshot of supernatural terror that helps signify the essence of what makes this franchise so definitive.


7. Gruesome visions of murder after suffering head trauma? Skip the neurologist, see a priest - Malignant (2021)

James Wan’s latest is campy and chaotic with the subtlety of a sledgehammer; in other words, it has all the ingredients of a future cult classic. It achieves a balanced measure of human intrigue and splendid carnage that proudly presents itself as a supernatural thriller with an obscene sense of self-awareness. The hard-R splatter film follows Madison (Annabelle Wallis), a young woman who starts experiencing terrifying premonitions of murder after a malicious attack leaves her dangerously vulnerable.

Tonally, Malignant feels like a homecoming for the Australian filmmaker, who for 14 years had been focused on cranking out franchise-ready entertainment that shifted horror’s landscape, though it abandoned the raw intensity that characterized much of his earlier work. Madison’s quest to uncover the secrets of her terrifying visions is a white-knuckled drag through the depths of her sanity, with a third-act twist that reminds us of James Wan’s gift as one of the most prominent (albeit macabre) storytellers of the 21st Century.

NEXT: Halloween Horror Essentials (2020 Edition)
October 30, 2021 /AJ Mijares
malignant, saw, james wan, insidious, the conjuring, horror, movies
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Full-Tilt Retribution: "The Card Counter" Review

September 17, 2021 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★★ (3/5)

If we can deduce anything from the life of a career gambler, it’s the fact that it isn’t accurately depicted in popular movies like Ocean’s Eleven or The Hustler; as two-time WSOP champion Doyle Brunson once said, “poker is a hard way to make an easy living”. In order to succeed, gamblers must entrench themselves in a lifestyle that is both grating and solitary. To repeatedly throw oneself into a series of psychological confrontations is a way of life that requires discipline, one that does not boast with glamor but rather unspoken virtue.

Ironically, The Card Counter isn’t actually about gambling. Much like Paul Schrader’s acclaimed 2018 spiritual drama First Reformed, his latest is a fitting (albeit sometimes formulaic) counterpart as an unflinching character study about a man grappling with the consequences of guilt. Schrader’s protagonists generally live a reclusive existence, with time and means to examine the existential nature of their vulnerabilities, all enslaved to their sins in one way or another.


Driven by a career-defining performance from Oscar Isaac, The Card Counter follows a discharged military vet who makes his living as a traveling gambler in an effort to drown out the noise of his violent past at Abu Ghraib. Isaac’s portrayal of the film’s morally splintered protagonist William Tell is a tour-de-force that demands your attention for every second that he’s onscreen.

Throughout the film, Tell wears a permanent ice-cold gaze that’s steadied by an unwavering constitution, a regimented discipline that establishes character with meticulous depth. As the details of his life begin to unravel, we come to learn that his code is his penance, a forced veneer. When a shadow from his enigmatic past comes crashing into his present, it threatens the brittle fabric of Tell’s minimal existence.

Not since 2014’s A Most Violent Year has Oscar Isaac been more effectively utilized in a nuanced, dramatic role. Between this, the forthcoming Dune, and HBO’s new adaptation of Scenes from a Marriage, he’s making a strong statement for why he should be recognized come awards season next year. His portrayal of William Tell invokes an unshakeable fortitude but behind his cold, dead eyes lingers a horror that is far beyond comprehension.


Having written such enduring Scorsese classics like Taxi Driver and Raging Bull, Paul Schrader has cemented his long, noteworthy career with gripping stories that navigate similar themes. From an alcoholic depressive priest in First Reformed to an ambivalent middle-aged drug dealer in Light Sleeper, his films often follow degenerate men who are tormented by their own frailty. Their arc is essentially a path of self-destruction to find enlightenment in moral reckoning.

In true Schrader fashion, The Card Counter re-purposes the classic motif of a protagonist sitting alone in the dark, scribbling thoughts on a notepad with a glass of whiskey close at hand. Having been raised a devout Calvinist, Schrader’s inherent religiosity manifests itself in this cathartic, almost confessional aspect in many of his films. This grounding in spiritual realism provides sincere perspective about the nature of self-reflection and internal conflict.

William Tell is one of Schrader’s most complicated creations; he’s a man of intense focus and sage wisdom, but an undercurrent of violent instability like Taxi Driver’s Travis Bickle. His somber assertation that “any man can tilt” is a distillation of the film’s larger commentary—a genetically implanted idea that anyone in the right set of circumstances can reach their breaking point. Much like the films of Sam Peckinpah, one of Schrader’s most influential directors, his art seeks to explore the depths of man when pushed to the brink of his limits.


All said and done, The Card Counter isn’t without some glaring weaknesses in the way it follows too closely in the footsteps of Schrader’s previous work. While the film certainly goes in some unexpected directions, its dramatic beats are nearly identical to many films that have already been explored in the Paul Schrader canon. As viewers, we implicitly get that his movies explore themes of regret and reflection, but you can’t help feeling that by this point, he’s retreading old ground with new people.

What ultimately sets this film apart is the acting and the depths they bring to its characters. Alongside our protagonist, we find La Linda (Tiffany Haddish), a gambling backer who brings a certain degree of warmth and understanding to William’s life that he doesn’t quite feel he deserves. Between them stands Cirk (Tye Sheridan), a wild card who unexpectedly enters William’s life with a dangerous proposition that crashes the status quo of his equilibrious lifestyle.

Tell finds himself torn between the two polarities that La Linda and Cirk can both provide: one being the hope for self-acceptance, the other being a swirling descent back into a life of corruption. The fate of our soul must be chosen with care and autonomy; this compelling conflict is the cornerstone of all of Paul Schrader’s work, a cinematic artist who strives to show that there’s always beauty in the breakdown.

Next | Under A Crimson Moon: “The Night House" Review
September 17, 2021 /AJ Mijares
the card counter, paul schrader, oscar isaac, film, movies, reviews
Reviews
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Under a Crimson Moon: "The Night House" Review

August 24, 2021 by AJ Mijares in Reviews

★★1/2 (2.5/5)

One of the more difficult challenges faced by genre filmmakers in the 21st century is finding inventive new ways to make audiences react. To successfully make a movie within the framework of a proven formula is to carve clever new pathways into well-explored territories. And in the horror landscape, no route’s been conquered more thoroughly than the haunted house genre.


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David Bruckner’s The Night House is a tricky psychological horror movie that creates plenty of stylistic opposition. On one hand, it demonstrates an undying allegiance to the classical haunted house tropes and conventions that spawned it. On the other, you have a clever diversion that obscures the story in an attempt to lull you in with its genre-bending flourishes and labyrinthian structure, though sadly it starts to come apart as a result of its own audacity.


The film’s premise follows Beth (Rebecca Hall), a teacher crippled by depression after her architect husband’s unexpected suicide. When she begins experiencing strange and supernatural occurrences around the house that they shared, Beth is confronted by the dark secrets hidden within its walls—as well as the truth about who her husband really was.

Smart, shifty, and creepily deceptive, The Night House builds to a boiling point for two solid acts, only to crumble under the weight of its not-so-hidden metaphor as it reaches a close. Its twists are thrilling and sharply unpredictable, but its underlying commentary is a bit too obvious to ignore. Many of the film’s best qualities are largely indebted to Rebecca Hall’s flawless performance as a tortured widow in various states of inebriation.



In the aftermath of Owen’s (Evan Jongkeit) suicide, we watch as Beth spirals into an oblivion of brandy and hopelessness. She starts to adopt a morbid sense of humor that prompts discomforting concern from her colleagues and friends, played with raw sincerity by Hall. Her performance pays careful attention to the nuanced vulnerabilities of someone who wears the manifestations of grief on their face really well. In one particular scene out drinking with cohorts, her social skills are achingly sabotaged by a forced smile and faraway stare that does a terrible job of masking the devastation.

David Bruckner’s intelligent direction lends itself to some effective jolting scares and haunting cinematography littered throughout The Night House. His strong instinct for cult horror as seen in 2017’s The Ritual and the unforgettable Amateur Night segment from 2012’s VHS have manifested themselves in a series of terrifying visions that can stop and change direction with whiplash velocity. Bruckner has carved a name for himself in the contemporary horror scene as a director who excels in this stylistic deception. When it comes to sheer filmmaking prowess, his latest may be his finest work yet.

In spite of Bruckner’s refined direction and Hall’s sensational performance, The Night House’s strengths are largely diminished by the weakness of its revelatory moments. By the time its true motives are brought to light, audiences are left wanting more from the movie whose payoff doesn’t quite measure up to its hype. While many will undoubtedly enjoy the surprises this film has to offer, those who see through its clever twists might find it more cemented as the greatest Lifetime movie that Lifetime never made.

NEXT | A Tale Of Valor & Virtue: "The Green Knight" Review
August 24, 2021 /AJ Mijares
the night house, david bruckner, rebecca hall, horror
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