Blog

The Sadder, but Wiser Batman

4/8/2022

by Ned Kuczmynda

Making a Batman movie must be a daunting task. Not only is there the legion of fans with high standards and strong opinions that comes with every fandom adaptation, but whoever directs the film must pick up the mantle of a trilogy that changed what it meant to be a superhero film. Some people are begging for more from the caped crusader, others (this reviewer included) question the necessity of a third Batman in the space of a decade. Hearing all of this, director Matt Reeves has done something special with his take on the material, finding his own lane with a more mysterious plot, and a distinct visual language.
Much has been made of The Batman’s visual references to classic noir cinema and detective stories, as well as its rootedness in the neo-noir of the 1990s. While all of this is true, most importantly this film is steeped in the best thing a comic movie can be: comic books. Watching this film felt like a deeper immersion into the Gotham imagined by the likes of Grant Morrison (Batman Omnibus), and the city presents less like a teeming metropolis than it does a fever dream of shadows and vice.

Paul Dano’s Riddler is an exciting change of pace for the character. He is what the film does best, it presents us with an actual mystery that our hero has to solve. Batman has always been a detective but we usually see fisticuffs take precedence over crime scene analysis – this film feels like it is mostly crime scene analysis. It’s a good enigma, not necessarily a whodunit, a riddlerdunwhat perhaps. Batman, Catwoman, and Jim Gordon race to crack a series of increasingly bizarre puzzles that reveal the corruption at the heart of Gotham. The film molds Riddler into the chic new “villain-with-a-point” archetype as his exploits expose corrupt legal officials, politicians, even presenting a new conundrum as Bruce Wayne is revealed to be the inheritor of a dark legacy
Some of the casting in this film is truly fantastic. The Penguin for instance is reimagined here as a consigliere of sorts to Carmine Falcone played by Colin Farrell (not that you’d recognize him under all that makeup and prosthetic scarring). This iteration of the character brings a lot to the table; not so with Andy Serkis’ Alfred who, despite prior acting experience with Reeves fails to bring any of the life to the role that Michael Caine did. This is fine, until the film expects us to have an emotional connection to him that it just hasn’t earned.
Robert Pattinson’s turn under the cowl has certainly been a positive one. His performance presents his vigilantism as something between a duty and an unhealthy obsession; not necessarily a personal quest to conquer fear but an unhealthy expression of trauma. In one of the first scenes of the movie Batman encounters some thugs in a subway station, mid-robbery. Unimpressed by his get-up one of the criminals takes a swing. We’ve all seen this one before, Batman blocks his blow, and takes him down. Where this Batman differs is he doesn’t stop hitting the thug. He rains blow after blow on him long after the man would have stopped being a threat. Pattinson plays a man so sunken into his grief and anger that he’s become numb to it, indeed throughout the film his face hardly changes as he beats his enemies to a pulp.

Colin Farrell as The Penguin

The strength of this movie is its holding back from high action set pieces (with a high octane car chase as a notable exception) and intricate combat scenes in favor of important dialogue and moments of deduction. For just about an hour Reeves accomplishes the nearly impossible task of holding the attention of a superhero film audience with crafty puzzles, crime scenes, and dialogue. This all falls apart in the third act as Riddler’s minions open fire on a stadium full of innocent people. The very citizens who Riddler was previously claiming to be fighting for and revealing the truth to he now decides are worthy of death.
This is a problem. The film wants to have its cake and eat it too. They’ve presented a villain with admirable motives, and evil means but in the desire to have an explosive third act given him a plan that doesn’t make sense. Riddler shouldn’t want to kill regular citizens, he should want to kill cops, politicians, Gotham’s elite. However the film needs an army of faceless goons for Batman to fight off and so we get snipers in the rafters of a stadium wearing riddler masks. Just for an extra dose of cynicism, one of the final scenes shows the Riddler behind bars meeting the Joker for the first time. I can’t escape the feeling that the cart is being put before the horse.
The Batman really is a solid offering, all things considered. Its got atmosphere in spades, and presents several exciting new takes on Gotham and its seedy underbelly. Nonetheless it feels lacking, in a way that it’s possible each Batman will from now on. It attempts to carry a thematic weight that it can’t shoulder and it often feels like the writers rely on our familiarity with characters from previous iterations to provide emotional stakes. This movie does a lot of things that are very special, and when it leans into them it’s great, but the third act grand finale feels corporate mandated, goes a long way towards souring the whole thing.

6 Comments

Perception of the Vampire: Analysis

3/25/2022

101 Comments

by Sammi Shuma

From Nosferatu (F.W. Murnau, 1922) to Twilight (Catherine Hardwicke, 2008), many interpretations of the vampire have appeared on screen. Sometimes they appear more monstrous with hideous fangs and claws or look more human to mask their true intentions and (oftentimes) for a young girl to fall in love with them. When it comes to vampire movies, most of these ‘creatures of the night’ are male characters. Their alluring nature traps women into their gaze, lost forever. A male is the predator while the female is the prey. In a film like Fright Night (Craig Gillespie, 2011), the vampire, Jerry, trails after a highschool girl. In the case of Matt Reeves’, Let Me In (2010), the roles are reversed. It is the story of a 12 year old boy, Owen, becoming friends with and ultimately falling in love with a female vampire, Abby. As we find out what Abby is towards the middle of the film, we see where her true intentions lie with Owen. Comparing this to the events in Fright Night, we will see some of the differences between how male and female vampires are portrayed in film. Depending on their gender, their characteristics change the level at which audiences can empathize with them.
There is a distinct difference in goal when it comes to why the vampire is targeting a character. Abby’s main goal is survival, to continue killing to help herself. She is not neat or methodical when she attacks her prey. At the beginning of the film, she has a man, who poses as her father, Hakan, go out on his own to get blood for her. On one of these trips, Hakan gets into a car accident, leaving Abby to fend for herself. While Hakan would attain blood without leaving a trace, Abby was less methodical. Attacking one of Owen’s neighbors, she is impulsive and reckless. She struggles to control her impulses, making her dependent on others to survive. She needs a servant. Hakan’s death was bound to happen, and Abby planned for his replacement to be Owen. As a vampire, she has the inability to take care of herself in a way that will prolong her existence. Due to her lack of self control, she uses her charm to trap Owen into Hakan’s fate. Owen is a tool, an opportunity to continue living an easier life where she does not have to control her impulses.

Jerry is self-sustaining, as he has been able to keep himself alive for over 400 hundred years. We see him be able to have a day job, with enough money to buy a house. When it comes to drinking blood, he doesn’t kill his victims, but turns them into vampires and has them live in his basement. Jerry is methodical and he has a plan in which he can fulfill on his own. He goes after Amy for companionship, but also to get back at Charley, a teenaged boy who is actively trying to kill him. He strides for a larger goal; to have dominion over his subjects. We see that he is actively manipulating his victims through compliments and his charm in his need for power. He is the main driver of conflict throughout the film; Jerry pushes against the other characters, willing to do anything for his goal because he has the strength and confidence to do so. Abby is much more passive, being more willing to have opportunities come to her. As she takes time to form a relationship with Owen, it becomes difficult to realize her manipulative strategies until near the end of the film. Jerry relies on his strength to meet his goals while Abby uses her intellect to swoon a boy into being her caretaker.

While their goals are on a different scale, each of them wants control of others. Their means ultimately change the audience’s perception of Jerry and Abby. As the truth about Abby is unknown to us at the start of the film, audiences are left to fill in the gaps about her past. Being introduced to her, we see her and Hakan walking into Owen’s apartment complex. Abby walks barefoot in the snow, giving us the impression of mistreatment and lack of care on Hakan’s part.
There are common traits that vampire characters have on screen. Dracula (Tod Browning, Karl Freund, 1931) and Twilight show how alluring vampires are. Women are drawn in simply by their gaze. Jerry and Abby accomplish this in different ways. In Fright Night, Jerry captures the hearts of several female characters through his muscular frame and confidence. He’s a lady’s man, able to attain anyone he chooses. It is his predominantly male traits that get him what he wants, succeeding for most of the film’s runtime. He is portrayed as a real villain, an unstoppable force. His charming façade quickly falls apart in the audience’s mind, becoming unlikable. Fitting into the typical vampire model, his dark intentions are clearly laid out to the audience early on. While this is amplified by the story telling, Jerry’s physique and domineering allows him to achieve his goals with ease. As he has no faults, he appears less human to the audience. Empathizing with his character becomes impossible because he has no faults.

Abby is portrayed as weak, lonely and excluded from the joys of childhood. As she meets Owen at the playground of their apartment complex, she doesn’t go for him immediately. She tells him that they cannot be friends and she tries to avoid him. As a young girl, she is shy and reserved, leaving us to feel she is withholding herself from the goal of companionship. The film gives Abby and Owen the time to form a meaningful relationship, where Abby struggles to get what she wants. It is through these struggles that the audience feels empathetic and invests in their friendship. Her gendered characteristics separate her from other vampire characters. Unlike Jerry, Abby struggles to achieve her goal. She appears more human to the audience, which ultimately blindsides us by the end of the film. The idea of the vampire becomes reimagined as is more than a villain to the main characters. Abby is endowed as a trusting best friend to Owen, we see her work to be by his side. She doesn’t just take what she wants simply because she can, but makes discoveries as to what works and what doesn’t. It is in her imperfection that Abby is likable, which is a departure from other descriptions of vampires in film.
Out of the hundreds of vampire movies available to watch, very few show vampires depicted like Let Me In. While she has fangs and kills people, she fails to eat her prey in a way that protects her from being discovered. Abby fails, seeking food and shelter from the assistance of others. Despite the strength she may possess as an immortal monster, her female fragility makes her easy to empathize with. Jerry is a more common example of a vampire in film. He takes whatever he wants without consequence, making his death satisfying to the audience. We see his true intentions early on in the film while Abby’s is masked by her weaknesses. By comparing Fright Night and Let Me In, we have seen how the difference of gender can make a vampire character more likable and easier to empathize with.

101 Comments

The French Dispatch: A Critical Analysis

3/18/2022

4 Comments

by Sebastian Tow

From Stranger Things, to Tarintino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, there is a trend in the film industry to profit off a culture of nostalgia. But, is this merely a trend, or a symptom of a deeper cultural sickness? Not only in film, but in music, media, and, indeed, all modes of popular culture and otherwise, there is a growing sense of nostalgia. Wes Anderson’s latest hipster dereliction, The French Dispatch, is the most prominent example of this. It is an anthology, featuring a large cast and following three different storylines within the overarching plot depicting the fictional Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun newspaper as it creates its final issue. The first story follows an inmate and painter (Benicio del Toro) as he falls in love with one of the prison guards (Léa Seydoux), and is commissioned to paint a fresco. The second depicts one of the paper’s journalists (Frances McDormand) as she follows a group of French students (Timothée Chalamet, Lyna Khoudri) plotting a revolt, reminiscent of the real May ‘68 Paris protests. The third story of the film features Jeffrey Wright, Mathieu Amalric, and Stephen Park, and follows the kidnapping of a police commissioner's son. Bill Murray also stars as Arthur Howitzer Jr., the paper's editor, while Owen Wilson appears in a short segment that introduces the film's setting in the fictional French town of ‘Ennui-sur-Blasé’.

The name ‘Ennui-sur-Blasé’ directly translates to ‘Boredom-on-Jaded’, and this phrase sums up the essence of The French Dispatch perfectly. Anderson’s style has gone well beyond that of self-parody, and it is clear that behind the meticulous aesthetics is nothing more than cynicism, and one could say, a vague boredom. But is Anderson to blame for this? On a closer, more sociological reading of the film, I would say no, not completely. Anderson as an artist and a director is, at least partially, unconscious of this, and can even be said to be attempting to counteract this. I intend to argue that The French Dispatch, and Anderson’s work as a whole, can be analyzed and understood as symptomatic of a bored and jaded culture, trapped in a deadlock of nostalgia and self-parody.

To understand this assertion one first has to look at the context the film is coming out of. In our times art is a commodity. Art is in the business of consumer entertainment; the film industry simply looks to maximise consumption of their product, so there is no room for deviation from this goal. Authentic art is always a result of a deviation from the traditions that preceded it, it is an event that results in a bloom of originality. But in a society predicated on business for business’ sake, art is unable to perform this act. In this way, from the 1970s onwards, art has proliferated the postmodern by incorporating every anti-establishment attitude into the cycle of the establishment, the cycle of art as commodity. Anything deviating from the mainstream, or acting against it, is quickly sucked up into the vacuum of production, and sold as the very thing it sought to counteract. This can be seen in Anderson’s work from the outset. In The French Dispatch, the very fact that art is commodified is known, and this is commented on within the film itself. The first story of the film makes the standard postmodern gesture of deprecating its own plot and imagery. The dance back and forth between Moses, the artist, and Julien, who wants to buy the art, reduces the character’s reverence for the art itself to nothing more than a joke. The story plays on this idea of art as trapped in commodification, as Adrien Brody’s character announces explicitly that “all art is for sale, you wouldn’t make it if it wasn’t.”

Cultural theorist Mark Fisher would say that this is only natural. According to Fisher, there is no question of art enacting genuine deviation anymore. The concept of art as an ideal that seeks earnestly to create new horizons is laughable now. Fisher pairs the commodification of art with this cynicism found in contemporary culture. Each story in The French Dispatch depicts characters who are artists and revolutionaries, yet through their self-mocking, blank style of delivery, the characters make fun of the things they stand for. Under the explicit content of the film, depicting artists and manifesto writers, is an implicit subtext of cynicism. This is one of the largest consequences of postmodern culture. And this is a major factor resulting both in a nostalgia culture, and in the nostalgia of Anderson's style. In a comment on Peter Sloterdijk’s book Critique of Cynical Reason, Slavoj Žižek says that “[today] ideology’s dominant mode of functioning is cynical. (...) The cynical [person] is quite aware of the distance between the ideological mask and the social reality, but he nonetheless still insists upon the mask.” One can see this insistence in The French Dispatch. On the surface is the mask of nostalgic celebration of all things vintage, creative, modernist; yet beneath this is nothing but mockery.

Using these insights, we can track the timeline of the emergence of nostalgia culture in Anderson’s work. According to Fisher, the artistic impotence created by these forces reached a new high in the 2000’s. By that time, it became conceptually impossible to create anything new, at least in the mainstream, and ultimately this is when nostalgia culture emerged. From ‘business ontology’ came artistic ‘hauntology’: a depressed nostalgia for new art forms, a nostalgia for a time that was not caught in a loop of recycled forms, endlessly commented on by the metalanguage of cynicism. Anderson's early films, made between the late ‘90’s and the early 2000’s, like Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and The Royal Tenenbaums, still existed, at least conceptually, within the time period they were filmed. The development of Anderson’s acutely nostalgic aesthetic was already running counter to this in his early work, and by the 2010’s Anderson’s films began to lose all context of time altogether. Films like The Darjeeling Limited and Moonrise Kingdom bore the aesthetic of the 20th century, yet no one can say they are period films. They neither exist in the 20th century nor in the time they were created. Anderson’s films are packaged in the new-old, they give the viewer the fake experience of modernist artistic aesthetics, while their form remains within the harshest postmodern disposition. The characters of The French Dispatch, just as the characters of Anderson’s previous works, adorn a closet of perfectly coordinated outfits, pastel and perfect down to the hem. The set dazzles with its reminiscence, Ennui-sur-Blasé reminds one of the streets of Paris pictured in an early François Truffault film; but, unlike the earnestness seen in the eyes of Antoine as the camera follows him to the end of the beach at the climax of Truffault’s Les Quatre Cents Coups, Anderson’s characters speak in monotone voices, filled with mawkishness, and his sets are only the enhancement of recycled references. Anderson’s films are explicitly nostalgic, yet they do not repeat the true gesture of the past they imitate; every gesture, every line in the script, is but a simulation of itself, making fun of the very aesthetic referent its nostalgia is built on.

This style reached the threshold of tolerance in The Grand Budapest Hotel. It’s no wonder that The French Dispatch, Anderson’s first non-animated film since Grand Budapest, has gone past the point of recovery. The pace of the film is excessive, reducing the time for characters to utter a quip here and there, as the plot attempts to cram as much visual nostalgia into two hours as possible. In the third story, that of the police commissioner’s son, the levels of narrative are cramped and confused in pace. The story jumps back and forth to Jeffory Wright’s character, the journalist recounting the story to a TV audience, clad in a ‘70’s jacket that looks like it belongs to a guest on The Dick Cavett Show. The rest of the narrative is depicted by animation and hurried takes between the myriad of characters. In the second story, Revisions to a Manifesto, the logic of nostalgia culture built on business ontology is laid bare in its reference to Paris ‘68. We see here another hallmark of postmodern cynicism, the depoliticisation of culture. In this way, a past event such as the Paris student riots of ‘68, an earnest, yet failed attempt at political and cultural emancipation, is the perfect reference point for Anderson’s aesthetic. Out of the film's sense of nostalgia, covering an unconscious true nostalgia for earnestness and emancipation, it ends up mocking this nostalgia itself, visualizing it with black and white cigarettes, stacks of books, and stylishly dressed students playing chess in Parisian cafes. McDormand’s character blandly comments on the students, writing up their movement as nothing more than the “touching narcissism of the young.” Anderson’s mocking depiction of the sixtyeight-er zeitgeist speaks to the central contradiction that sustains us as inhabitants of nostalgia culture: it is impossible to get out of the loop of cultural recycling, cynical distancing, and depoliticization, yet we long for earnestness and artistic emancipation in culture. We mock the culture of the past, yet we wish it were actualized today. In this way, The French Dispatch is completely turpitudinous; the finality of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun as it ends with its last issue, echoes the very finality of The French Dispatch itself. The cast that has remained in Anderson’s work for years are but variations of the characters they have played in films before, reduced to proliferating the deadlock of nostalgic logic further, so there is no out, no way to go forward.

Analysis of the film raises a question as to how conscious Anderson is of these dynamics. From one angle it appears as though he is aware of the social and cultural dynamics at play in his own work, and one may venture to say that in The French Dispatch he chose to take the logic of nostalgia and cynicism to its endpoint in an attempt to critique this logic itself. This must be partially true, due to the very conscious choices made; was naming the setting for the film ‘Boredom-on-Jaded’ a mistake, or was it merely a sally of wit? Yet, whether or not Anderson is conscious of these dynamics does not redeem the film. I would predict that Anderson’s style has no place left to go but to reproduce a variation of the same blueprint pictured in The French Dispatch in his next film. It is not up to Anderson to break the postmodern logic inherent in nostalgia culture. For art and film in the wider sense, the only way to break from this deadlock is to be liberated from cynicism by emphasizing a new earnestness, non-referential to any imagined aesthetic of the past. The French Dispatch should be seen as the prime example of the existing order of cultural production that needs to be destroyed if there is any hope of taking art to a place of possible new creation.

4 Comments

What Makes a Character? Ft. Encanto

2/25/2022

1 Comment

by Aaron Argot

The cornerstone of every story - film, television show, book, has to be its characters. They are the instruments that move the story along. One of my favorite things to do is ask people who their favorite characters are in a movie or tv show. Not surprisingly, a lot of the time we have different answers. People are going to have different preferences, and how good a character is can be subjective. But how much of it is subjectivity? There are clear ways to tell if a character is stronger than another. The most basic example is that the main character is likely to be preferred to that bartender that doesn’t even have a name in the script. There are a number of “categories” that can be looked at to see how some characters might be preferred over others. Each of these categories are more objective by themselves and it is the blending of them in a character is what can make characters stand out. Encanto (Byron Howard, Jared Bush, 2021), with its large and diverse cast makes it the perfect example.

The first category, and also the one which holds the most weight, is depth. This is basically all of the information about a character that impacts the story. Character elements that this includes are things like a character’s backstory, and important details about that character, such as Mirabel’s exclusion of a magical gift, that proves itself a hardship for her to deal with, or Bruno’s reputation of making bad things happen. Oftentimes, the more screen time (or word count) a character has, the more fleshed out they will become and are more likely to stand out as a character than those with less, although this is in no way a fixed rule. The depth of a character changes as the media goes along, and is why we can go from hating a character to loving them. This is shown chiefly through Abuela and Isabella, who are generally disliked by the audience and grow to become liked by the audience. That change that was able to happen through the use of development and revelation is what made them stronger characters. However, that is just one example, villain characters and other characters that the story has us dislike can be stronger characters than most. Character depth is the most objective aspect when looking at whether a character is notable. Characters in Encanto who have lots of depth include Mirabel, Abuela, Bruno, and Isabella.

The next category which might be equally as important for people when choosing who their favorite character is as depth, is personality. A character having a strong personality does hold a lot of merit for the likeability of that character. And there is something to say about strong personalities and the objectivity of a character's importance and presence in a story. Someone’s personality affects how they act,and character’s decisions often correlate to their depth. But even if a character just has a strong personality or just one that is likable, then that character can be called good. This varies from person to person and is less concrete and measurable, but from person to person, a character’s personality can be worth more than the depth of other characters and propel them to the rank of that person’s favorite. Even though personality is mostly subjective, I think that Pepa’s side of the family has a lot of personality. Pepa herself is vulnerable to mood swings, Félix is affectionate and uplifting, Dolores is more mellow and makes little squeaks when she’s talking, Camilo is funny and passionate, and Antonio is understanding and sometimes sarcastic. Personality can add to the atmosphere of a story and ultimately make it better, so it does play an objective role.

The last category is likely the most subjective, and that is the aesthetic of a character. This includes different aspects about their identity and their appearance. This is one of the reasons it is good to have a diverse cast, so that the story does not end up being stale, and there ends up being a variety of characters people can prefer or identify with. In Encanto, there is a diverse range of ages, skin colors, and other aspects of their appearance. But there is another thing that is similar to aesthetics that is mostly not linked with appearance, and that is abilities. Some people like Batman over Superman for no greater reason than the skill set. Of course, oftentimes there is greater meaning connected to it, like sometimes someone will like Luisa because she is strong and that’s cool. But some might like Luisa because she is strong and helps her community and due to that has an overwhelming sense of pressure put on her. So while there definitely is a surface level of preference, there are also underlying reasons for liking some abilities over others.
Every good story has good characters. Most people have different preferences in which characters they like. The different aspects of a character, such as their depth, personality, and overall aesthetics, are what guide people to those preferences. When there are usually general similarities in which characters most people like, there is a case to be made for certain characters to be objectively better in the story. And while popularity is not the strongest or most objective metric, examining those character aspects helps to uncover why someone might like one character over another.

1 Comment

Death on the Nile: A Review

2/18/2022

0 Comments

by Emma Zeller

Due to the constant push back caused by the Covid-19 pandemic, along with certain controversies that involved some of the cast, Death on the Nile (2022) was not as highly anticipated as some may have hoped. The murder mystery is a sequel to the 2017 film The Murder on the Orient Express, both directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh. The 2017 film was lackluster and forgettable which clouded my view going into this film, but after seeing it I was pleasantly surprised.

Gal Gadot and Armie Hammer character’s wedding scene

Death on the Nile is based on a novel by the same name written by Agatha Christie and has been adapted to screen a few times before. The film follows detective Hercule Poirot (Kenneth Branagh) as he investigates the death of Linnet Ridgeway, (Gal Gadot) After she is murdered while on her honeymoon with her new husband Simon Doyle (Armie Hammer). Other family and friends join them during their celebrations. The actual murder does not happen until later into the film, giving the audience time to connect with Linnet and the other characters. However, while time is given to connect with some characters many just appear in the movie to fill empty space. At times it seems like we are supposed to care about these filler characters and believe they serve a bigger purpose than they actually end up serving. The film’s ending was pleasantly predictable. From the beginning I was able to figure out who was going to get murdered and hwo had done it. Even though I predicted it, I was able to enjoy the process of Poirot piecing the story together. My only compliant was how long it took for the murder to actually occur. It seemed like they were just trying to drag out the run time for this film.

Gal Gadot and Armie Hammer’s scene

Kenneth Branagh’s performance was memorable and took my focus the whole film. Gal Gadot is very talented and was not given a lot to work with, but I believe she did the best she could with what she was given. The framing was the best part of the whole film. It was able to turn a simple shot of the newlyweds talking into a beautiful sequence. The editing and special effects did take away from the suspense of the film. A major factor was the location of the Nile and Egypt, it felt cheap and like they took the easy way out. The CGI was used frequently to provide wide shots that were unnecessary. Granted, there were points in the film that it was helpful to distinguish the location, but it soon became rather redundant.

Kenneth Branagh starring sequence

The film was predictable and could have had better editing. The CGI took my attention away from the story. The excellent camera work and framing could not make up for the poor ending. For as long as it took for the murder to actually occur, we deserved a better constructed ending. Besides all the technical aspects and the poor ending, the writing was enjoyable and I do recommend if you enjoy mysteries with a good heart to the story.

Gal Gadot's Entrance

0 Comments

The Mitchells vs. The Machines - A Review

2/18/2022

0 Comments

by Joel Cowart

“We all want to be the perfect family, but who’s perfect, right? Every family has its challenges, from picture day to picky eaters. For my family, our greatest challenge is… probably the machine apocalypse.”
The Mitchells vs. the Machines (2021) is an sci-fi action comedy animated film about family, mending relationships, and the consequences of relying too much on technology. Katie Mitchell (voiced by Abbi Jacobson) is ready to leave her family and finally meet “her people” across the country at film school. While she loves her family, in recent years they seem to have lost touch. Desperate to repair the rift that has grown between them before Katie leaves home, her father, Rick (voiced by Danny McBride), takes drastic measures, canceling all of Katie’s travel plans and devising a family cross country road trip to take her to school in their burnt orange 1993 station wagon. Katie is outraged by this, but has no choice but to go along with it.

The Mitchell family and their dog Monchi

Although their journey has a very rocky start, Katie begins to have a fun time with her family, making a film of their adventures along the way. During their trip, however, unbeknownst to the Mitchells, trouble is brewing. New AI robots created by big tech CEO Mark Bowman begin taking over the world, led by a sentient smartphone who feels betrayed at being replaced by said robots. Their objective: Capture all humans and send them into space where they can no longer ruin each other’s lives. Left as the sole survivors of the AI apocalypse by chance, the Mitchells hatch a plan to destroy the robots and save humanity with two good “humanized” robots they were able to save. However, Plan A doesn’t work out and saving the world is much harder than they could ever have imagined.

The Mitchells and Co stare at a menacing object

The Mitchells vs The Machines blends together the plots of family drama and the AI apocalypse surprisingly well. The goal of the robots is to remove relationships from the world, as they are hard, hurtful, and prevent people from reaching their full potential. Contrasting this ideal is the Mitchell family: full of flaws and seemingly broken beyond repair. Amidst the AI apocalypse, the Mitchells grow as a family. As the film progresses, more is revealed about Rick and why he is so averse towards Katie going to film school. Every character (including some of the robots) is inspired and changed along with the Mitchells. Although they are a quirky, fragmented family, the Mitchells begin to accept each other for who they are amidst their flaws. This is one of the most heartfelt films I have ever watched as well as one of the most comical.

The Mitchells exit an exploding mall complex Kill Bill style

The comedy in this film is on point. At first, I didn’t think I would like the occasionally awkward, early 2010s type of comedy, however, it was executed so well that I couldn’t help but continually laugh out loud. The comedic timing is near perfect, not to mention the thought that went into the editing that enhanced it. Its satire of modern tech culture is relatable and ridiculous, highlighting the habits and flaws that have arisen from using or relying on technology. Overall, this is one of the funniest films I have ever seen, and although it was occasionally a bit awkward, I loved it all the same.

An average dinner at the Mitchell household

The aspect of The Mitchells vs The Machines that really sells both its sincere profundity and its hilarious comedy is its unique animation. The animation was done by the same studio and some of the same staff members as Spiderman: Into the Spider-verse, a film known for its groundbreaking animation. The animation of The Mitchells vs The Machines goes beyond its predecessor with perhaps less visually stunning animation, but much more technically impressive and thematically intentional animation. Whereas Into the Spiderverse based its animation off of the pages of comic books, the animation of The Mitchells vs the Machines was built to emphasize human imperfections in an artistic way. The entire film was made to look hand drawn, using organic shapes, hand drawn lines, and watercolor textures. Much of this was done by overlaying paintings and drawings over the base 3DCG layer of the film. Adding 2D artistic flares that emphasize Katie’s emotions on top of every other layer emphasized this theme ever more, as well as created additional comedic moments. Every part of this film intentionally supports its theme so beautifully that one can not help but be in awe.
(More on the Animation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YJ42ruf2WQE)

Katie Mitchell’s explosive imagination

While most “family movies” have the somewhat negative connotation of being a “children’s movie,” The Mitchells vs the Machines is truly a film for the whole family. No matter who you are, you can relate to what at least one of the characters are going through. Although the film can be understood by and entertain children and teens, this film truly shines in its sophisticated themes and mature subtexts. Add this to some great classic film references, and this film becomes the perfect film for any person of any age. With the 2022 Oscars coming up, I was excited to see The Mitchells vs the Machines nominated for best animated picture. Due to its entertaining yet mature nature, as well as being one of my favorite films of all time, I truly hope it wins this year.

0 Comments

No Time to Die: A Review

2/4/2022

2 Comments

by Reed Milliken

Cary Joji Fukunaga’s No Time to Die is the perfect bookend to the Daniel Craig James Bond era. I wouldn’t have labeled myself as a fan of the James Bond character before seeing No Time to Die, but despite that, I was still interested in seeing the new release. I rewatched all of the prior Daniel Craig installments in preparation, and I’m glad I did. I was instantly made aware as to why this franchise had such a following, and No Time to Die only fueled my newfound love for the films. The film not only served as a proper end to Daniel Craig’s take on the character, but it was also just a high-octane thriller that is just as exhilarating as it is poignant. If you’re a fan of action movies, the Daniel Craig James Bond movies, or any of the James Bond movies for that matter, you’re going to love No Time to Die.

The following review contains spoilers for No Time to Die (Cary Joji Fukunaga, 2021), as well as the other films from Daniel Craig’s run as James Bond; Casino Royale (Martin Campbell, 2006), Quantum of Solace (Marc Forster, 2008), Skyfall (Sam Mendes, 2012), and Spectre (Sam Mendes, 2015). Reader discretion is advised.
Stepping out of the theater, I was a little overwhelmed. With a runtime of over two and a half hours, there was a lot to unpack. I can confidently say that rewatching all of the Daniel Craig James Bond movies prior to your viewing is the best way to go into this movie. The plot of each movie heavily references the ones before it and the people who accompanied me to the theater who hadn't seen the prior four found themselves lost.
One of my favorite hidden details of the movie is that I could tell that director Cary Joji Fukunaga was clearly a fan of some of the older Bond movies. The main villain of No Time to Die, Safin, owns an elaborate secret base set on a private island and employs a bunch of henchmen that wear matching clothes. I originally criticized the film for being too cartoony, but I soon realized that these features make the film very reminiscent of two of the more iconic James Bond films Dr. No (1962) and You Only Live Twice (1967), starring Sean Connery. Furthermore, a majority of the characters in No Time to Die are prone to quippy one-liners, one of the more iconic and memorable features found in the Connery era of James Bond. These features did admittedly feel a little out of place considering none of the other Daniel Craig movies used these tropes, but they were too much fun to feel negative towards.

Director Cary Joji Fukunaga behind the scenes with Daniel Craig

After looking through others’ reviews of No Time to Die, my biggest complaint of the movie seems to be a common one; not enough Ana De Armas. Her character, Paloma, was a charming and entertaining way to kick off the movie and was easily my favorite character apart from Bond. The two’s chemistry together was phenomenal, something I wasn’t exactly surprised to see after Daniel Craig and Ana De Armas’ work together in Knives Out (2019), therefore I would have loved to see her stick around as a main character throughout the film, rather than just the 10 minutes she got. Her absence in the remainder of the runtime was a letdown, but considering this is my biggest critique of the movie, I’m very happy with what we got.

Daniel Craig and Ana De Armas during Armas' first scene

Ana De Armas’ character was not the only one I enjoyed. Felix Leiter, a repeating character from throughout the franchise who was mainly business-oriented, is now featured as a fun-loving, quirky companion to Bond. I enjoyed seeing this side of Felix, as it finally felt like Felix’s character was done justice, and I don’t think his death would have hit me as hard as it did if it weren’t for these minor changes. As for the other characters, M worked for me all but once where his macho came off more comedic than stern, Moneypenny had a fun line about shooting Bond, Nomi did exactly what her character was supposed to and frustrated me from start to finish, and Q came out as gay which was a nice way to show inclusion without feeling too forced.
Lyutsifer Safin, Rami Malek’s villain character, worked well for me too. Having Safin be the man that invaded Madeline Swann’s house as a child, a backstory that was given one movie prior in Spectre (2015), was not only a neat tie-in to a prior installment but also just worked really well from a plot standpoint. However, Safin as a character began to crumble as the movie continued. There is a scene in the third act where Bond's daughter bites Safin's finger and Safin just lets her run away. It didn’t make sense for Safin to do this, as he was, up until this point, shown to be ruthless towards all things James Bond, so it just came off as lazy writing. Safin was by no means my favorite Bond villain (looking at you Javiar Bardem), but I do like that he got his revenge on Madeline by killing Bond. Bond’s death gave Safin a happier ending than he did which was an odd choice but not one that I entirely disagree with.

Rami Malek's villain character Lyutsifer Safin

Speaking of, I love Daniel Craig's Bond, he really is the perfect cast. He can play the stern and intimidating, but switch it up to playful and flirtatious at the flip of a switch. I felt like his character changed a little bit with each movie, but at least he ended on a high note. I'm still a little unsure how I feel about the nature of his death, but despite that, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. It is probably the most emotional I've gotten in a movie theater, especially after watching the other four so soon before my viewing. My only issue is how long those missiles took to reach the island. There were at least 10 minutes of runtime between the launch and the impact, giving Bond plenty of time to die which is funny considering the title.
I liked the story. It wasn't perfect, for example killing off Spectre and Blofield, the big overarching villains from the entire franchise so unceremoniously was frustrating, but besides that, it was all pretty decent. I wish the main disease used in the movie didn't parallel so much with COVID, but the movie was filmed before the pandemic so I won't be too harsh about that. It is, however, very interesting how that not only happened to line up but that the studio decided to keep it in too. I know that parallels to COVID have scared movie studios in the past, I think Locked Down (2021) set a good example moving forward for how audiences want Hollywood to treat the pandemic. Locked Down is a movie about a heist that takes place during COVID that performed poorly at the box office presumably because people wanted to escape from the virus, not consume more content about it. One instance of a studio changing their work to avoid parallels to COVID was Marvel Studios’ The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021). The show had a subplot involving a viral disease and was reshot to work around it. I respect No Time to Die for not trying to rush and change the plot last minute, as The Falcon and the Winter Soldier didn’t exactly turn out amazing. However, parallels or not, I just wish they hadn't included the prefix "nano-" in the virus description. It’s such a cliché name for a MacGuffin and felt very out of place here.

One of the more memorable shots of Daniel Craig's James Bond

In the end, No Time to Die was a fitting end to the Craig era. Moving forward, I am excited to both go back and rewatch the old ones, as well as see who Eon has in store for us next. If you have followed the Daniel Craig movies thus far, and enjoy movies like the Mission: Impossible franchise or the Jason Bourne franchise, this movie is a must-see. It’s an amazing action movie even on its own, I just suggest you watch it with someone who’s a little more knowledgeable on the franchise so you’re not completely lost.

2 Comments

Licorice Pizza: A Review

1/28/2022

0 Comments

by Mason Leaver

In the constant delays and release date push-backs caused by the pandemic, there were few movies I was more saddened to see delayed than Paul Thomas Anderson’s highly anticipated Licorice Pizza (2021). On top of this, the film was released in a limited capacity, and wasn’t available in all theaters for some time. However, having seen the film, I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, Licorice Pizza is one of my favorite films of the year. On the other hand, the film feels underwhelming, when one considers the titanic career of Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA). While Licorice Pizza is not PTA’s best work, it still makes for a highly entertaining and lighthearted film, introducing two new, promising actors.
Licorice Pizza focuses on the story of Alana Kaine (Alana Haim) and Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman) growing up in the 1970’s. Gary is an entrepreneurial 15 year old, determined to be a successful actor and businessman. Gary develops a crush on 25 year old Alana after they meet at his high school picture day. The two slowly develop a friendship, and we witness their complicated relationship progress through a series of misadventures. Over the course of the film the pair create several money-making plots, and interact with a host of wild characters played by a variety of celebrity cameos. Indeed, one of the more entertaining aspects of the film are these strange characters that the pair interact with - some dangerous, some downright bizarre. The central tension of the film is this will-they-won’t-they as the pair argue and come together repeatedly. There is not a single narrative through-line; the film features a more episodic structure. All of these elements come together to give the film a sense of adventure, along the lines of a bildungsroman.

Cooper Hoffman and Alana Haim

One of the most impressive aspects of Licorice Pizza is how PTA has pulled such high quality performances out of two actors who are new to the silver screen. The film features the debut performances of both Haim and Hoffman, and both show great promise for future roles. PTA previously worked with Alana Haim and her sisters in their band, Haim, on several of their music videos. Allana’s sisters, Este and Danielle, also make appearances in the film, as do their parents. Haim’s ability to capture the feeling of being simultaneously frustrated with and charmed by someone is convincing and human. Additionally, Hoffman manages to walk a fine line as he portrays a character who could easily come across as annoying or unlikeable. Indeed, Gary does at times come across as rude, annoying, and chauvinistic, but Hoffman’s portrayal also offers moments of levity and emotional honesty which allow us to relate with the character. Despite the flaws of both characters, the actors portray the couple in such a way that by the end of the film, we are rooting for them.
Paul Thomas Anderson is a well known name in the world of film. His films (There Will Be Blood, Phantom Thread, Magnolia, among others) have won countless awards over the years, and he has directed some of my personal favorite films. Across his filmography, Anderson has consistently created films which have deep symbolic meanings and which raise difficult questions. Licorice Pizza feels like a much lighter film by comparison. It does not feature the same provocative symbolism of his previous films, and it does not drive its audiences towards any weighty truths. Instead, the film offers a much lighter approach, favoring a general nostalgic aesthetic and emphasis on themes surrounding the importance of family, friendships, and romance. These themes are explored through Gary, following his journey in a coming of age story. The film never gets too heavy or highbrow, instead taking an approach which favors creating a mood over establishing any deep concepts. Licorice Pizza feels like PTA’s least intellectually stimulating film, yet it is also one of, if not his most, charming film. For these reasons, it seems unlikely that Licorice Pizza will have the same staying power that the rest of PTA’s filmography has enjoyed.

Tom Waits makes a cameo in the film

That said, it is not as if Licorice Pizza is a weak film. All of its various aspects - performances, jokes, plot - shine through spectacularly, and it is certainly worth seeing, as it makes for an entertaining two hours. Strangely enough, this film feels almost more in line with some of the work of Wes Anderson, director of films like The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) or the recent The French Dispatch (2021). Some of Wes Anderson’s weaker films have similarly featured heavy use of celebrity cameos, lighthearted romance and adventure, and have ultimately proven to be less memorable and thought provoking than his strongest work. In some parallel world, I could see Licorice Pizza directed by Wes Anderson rather than Paul Thomas Anderson. My hope is that Licorice Pizza proves to be a short detour from Anderson’s usual work, rather than a hint of what is to come. It may be that this film is more of a personal project rather than a defining film for PTA’s career. Despite my concerns over the director’s trajectory, Licorice Pizza still manages to be a highly entertaining film, and its strong performances and endearing characters make it a film worth seeing.

0 Comments

A Leap From Expectations- Spiderman: No Way Home

1/21/2022

0 Comments

by Samantha Shuma

Spiderman: No Way Home (NWH) (Jon Watts, 2021) took the movie industry by storm by being the highest grossing solo superhero movie. Being the newest addition to the ever growing list of superhero movies, it is beating out previous films not only financially, but artistically as well. So many different creative minds have joined together to make a once in a lifetime film, and their talent comes through in every element of the production. The acting, pacing and music tie the film together into an endearing, action packed adventure.

The review contains spoilers for Spiderman: No Way Home, reader discretion advised.

The film starts as eerie music plays, revealing the disaster left from the previous film, Spiderman: Far From Home (Jon Watts, 2019). For Peter Parker (Tom Holland), his world is turned upside down as his identity as Spiderman becomes public knowledge. Seeing how any association with him has cost his friends their futures, he seeks the help of Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) to reverse the damage of the world knowing Peter Parker is Spiderman. The spell Strange performs goes awry, propelling those from every universe who know Peter Parker is Spiderman into their own. When these uninvited quests start pouring in from other universes, we can think of who, across infinite universes, knows Spiderman to be Peter Parker. This does come with the later discovery of Andrew Garfield (The Amazing Spiderman 1 & 2) and Tobey Maguire (the original Spiderman trilogy), we also get to experience the villains their Spiderman have faced with their own franchises respectively.

Doc Ock (Alfred Molina) is the first character to appear. His character changes dramatically throughout the film, showing that Doc Ock isn’t evil at heart but rather under the control of a damage chip attaching his robots arms to his brain. There is a dramatic shift between how he acts before and after the chip is fixed. Molina portrays this contrays well, giving the audience hope that a villain can change for the better. Becoming a friend of Tom Holland’s Peter Parker, Doc Ock is the first and most well explored redemption arc in the film. Molina’s acting is believable and likable, making his character’s arc satisfying by the film’s end. His performance is one of many that amazed me during the film, others being Willem Dafoe (Green Goblin) and Marisa Tomie (Aunt May).

Strong actors are what make and break a good story. Of course, stellar acting cannot make up for a poorly written script. When it comes to NWH, the story and the pacing works in the actors’ favor and both the acting and story work to create a film that is character focused. By the end of the film, their universe is about to implode as an infinite number of people flood in. With stakes so large, it can be hard for audiences to grasp and relate to the scope of the situation. In many superhero movies, those kinds of stakes remove any emotional tension to be had for its story. NWH manages to show the ‘saving the universe’ plot on a smaller, more relatable scale by focusing more on the relationships and goals between characters.

This is one of the few superhero films in recent memory where the soundtrack plays an integral role. The music in NWH sets the tone and maintains this motif of danger and excitement. As this film does draw from the other live action Spiderman franchises, it is interesting to listen to where the previous Spiderman themes have been tied into this new trilogy. This reincorperation doesn’t overshadow the original music or feel out of place when it is played. This doesn’t only come through composition but also through style. When Electro (Jamie Foxx) is introduced, the techno style music of the film he was previously in (Amazing Spiderman 2) comes forth through some new music. The music choices in Amazing Spiderman 2 (2014, Marc Webb) were generally seen as questionable by fans. This music continued to feel true to the character while also remedying fan concerns.

A lot of smart choices have been made when it comes to how previous Spiderman properties would be referenced throughout NWH. This story could have easily been oversaturated with reference humor or exposition dumps in order for old Spiderman fans to enjoy the film while also making the film understandable for those who haven’t watched the other Spiderman trilogies. The balance between appealing to old fans while adapting to new ones is one of this film's unique challenges. Since Tom Holland’s Spiderman has never met these villains before, viewers who haven’t been introduced to these characters will be in the same situation as the film’s main character. While older fans can have a deeper appreciation for these characters and their background, there is no vital information that is missing for those who are watching a Spiderman movie for the first time. From beginning to end, each moment of the film is introduced just enough to be enjoyed by any viewer.

Seeing how each aspect of the filmmaking process comes together, it is understandable why NWH has become one of the highest grossing superhero movies ever made. Its character focused story brings in characters from different universes as Tom Holland’s Peter Parker helps to redeem old villains who would have died otherwise. His caring heart forces a broken spell to turn into a new beginning for everyone involved. While we are left with what will happen in future films, there is also a great amount of satisfaction for how the villains of this film have been dealt with. This is all underlined with excellent music, making the film immersive and fulfilling as an audience member. NWH hits the mark as a fun action movie and as an artistic endeavor for all the creative minds involved. Whether it’s the music, acting, or story, each element of the production shows their ability to make an exciting, character driven film.

0 Comments

The Editing Style of Edgar Wright

12/30/2021

1 Comment

by Joel Cowart

Up until watching the film Hot Fuzz (2007), I believed that the editing style and techniques used in a film were largely determined by the editor of the film. However, upon watching this particular film, directed by Edgar Wright, I realized that the director has a profound impact on the editing of a film. When a director has a clear vision for how they want the editing to affect the mood of a film, the film is greatly enhanced. Wright is one example of such a director, which is evident in the numerous films he has written and directed in the past 20 years, including Shaun of the Dead (2004), Hot Fuzz (2007), Scott Pilgrim vs the World (2010), The World’s End (2013), Baby Driver (2017), and most recently Last Night in Soho (2021).
The main editing techniques that define Wright’s genre-breaking films are dramatic, jarring, often comedic cuts as well as interesting and unique transitions between shots. In addition to this, he is also meticulous in editing pre-production, that is, in storyboarding everything. This style of editing developed from his early days of filmmaking. At the start of his career, Wright didn’t have enough coverage for his film Dead Right (1993), and, as a consequence he didn’t have many choices when it came to editing (Edgar). In order to combat this problem and keep his films interesting, he had to use quick cuts and creative transitions, techniques that he continues to use and have become a defining characteristic of his films today.

Wright’s animated storyboard compared to the shot used in The World’s End (2013)

In addition to his initial filmmaking blunders leading to one of his greatest trademarks, Wright also learned the importance of pre-production editing, more commonly known as storyboarding. Wright uses his storyboards to jump start the editing process, animating them before shooting, which is not unique to him as a director, but is necessary for his vision of how he wants the editing to impact the film. In order for all his cuts and transitions to hit at the right time, he edits these animations, which includes dynamic shots and effects, to plan out the timing of each shot as well as the major movements in the shot, which is important, as almost everything, both performances and cuts, is in time with music. This is nowhere more apparent than in his film Baby Driver.

Paul Machliss at his editing cart on set of Baby Driver (2017)

Baby Driver follows a young getaway driver named Baby (played by Ansel Elgort) with tinnitus who constantly plays music to drown out the ringing in his ears. It is this music that drives the film. Everything, from characters walking to camera movements to car chases to gunshots, every detail, no matter how small, is timed to Baby’s soundtrack. This was achieved through editing on site as production was going on. After each shot, Wright would check with Paul Machliss, the editor of the film, to make sure it fit with the music as seen in the animated storyboards. Machliss, who brought with him a mobile editing cart to be able to keep up with the quick pace of the production, would immediately put the shot into the edit to make sure all the visual beats matched with the music. This mesh of music and visuals brings the viewer into the film and gives them a sense of awe. Through his precise style of storyboarding and editing, Wright works with the editors and crew of his films to create beautiful, driven pieces of art.

Edgar Wright (Left) working with Ansel Elgort (Right)

In addition to making his films more visually stunning and compelling, Wright’s editing style is also versatile. Whether the genre of a film is a rom-com set during a zombie apocalypse, a satirical mystery thriller, or a time-travelling horror commentary, Wright’s use of editing accentuates the strong points of that genre. For instance, Hot Fuzz follows a serious London beat cop sent to a small town where almost nothing goes wrong. At first, Wright’s signature jarring cuts seem almost out of place, as there is no notable action in the first half of the film. However, upon re-watching the film, I realized the brilliance of this choice. Hot Fuzz is a satire, not of some problem in society, as one would expect from a satire, but of the modern action film genre itself. As small town cops are chasing down petty criminals down small town roads, Wright uses his quick cuts and transitions, similar to those seen in almost all action films today, to parody the fictitious nature of action films which makes the film all the more hilarious.

Nicholas Angel (played by Simon Pegg) and Danny Butterman (played by Nick Frost) track down a criminal with a goose in tow in Hot Fuzz (2007)

This is the main reason the works of Edgar Wright are so brilliant. Film is a form of art, not just a means of telling a story or sharing a message, and Wright understands that. He uses film to tell a story, instead of simply telling that story through film. All of his edits and shots have a purpose. In many of his films, comedy fills that purpose, as he uses the full extent of cinematography and editing to create comedic content. Instead of simply putting characters in comedic situations or relying on witty banter to make his films comedic as many modern comedy films do, he chooses the look and feel of each shot and cut to make those choices in and of themselves as funny as they can be. The framing or focus of a shot, jump cuts, and camera pans can be hilarious when used to their full advantage, something Wright does magnificently.
In today’s filmmaking world, many filmmakers do not have a specific vision for how they want the editing of their film to add to the feel or mood of the film as a whole. In contrast, Edgar Wright takes the time to plan out every cut and transition in his film in order that each one adds to a theme or a mood he wants the film to portray. Wright uses the medium of film to its full advantage, creating some of the most innovative, entertaining, and beautiful films in modern cinema, something I hope to see more filmmakers utilize in the future.

Works Cited
“Edgar Wright on How He Writes and Directs His Movies | The Director's Chair.” YouTube, uploaded by StudioBinder, 7 December 2020, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fa_lP82gAZY

1 Comment

<<Previous

Archives