Emma. (2020) Review

rating: *****

the story: A young society lady is master of everything except her own heart.

review: Happily, Anya Taylor-Joy is experiencing one of those rare conflagrations. She’s someone I’ve grown to enjoy watching who also happens to be having a moment of critical popularity. Emma. is one of several recent projects she’s appeared in to help her reach that status, and I can say that I am utterly enchanted with it.

Of course, it’s based on the oft-adapted book by Jane Austen, though in the hands of first-time director and herself a remarkable discovery, Autumn de Wilde, it’s beyond fresh. It’s like elevating Austen to the realm of Shakespeare while simultaneously freeing the material in the most lively ways possible.

The story itself is as relevant as ever, full of piercing social insight, and in this presentation (a period drama in the vein of The Favourite) as likely to be enjoyed as appreciated.

The casting is impeccable. Taylor-Joy, of course, unleashed to her full potential, surrounded by equally inspired actors, including the perennial standout Bill Nighy as well as breakthrough performances from Callum Turner and Johnny Flynn. Turner particularly intrigues me here; in the Fantastic Beasts films he’s struck me as the least fantastic element, but he now strikes me as a revelation of physical presence alone, a Stan Laurel smile pressing itself against the starched collars out of the many lush costumes on display.

The score alone deserves recognition! I always love when a film is truly complete like that, in direction, staging, acting, and music. That’s how to reach the brass ring with me. 

It’s the kind of film you can happily share with those who think the classics are stuffy, or even if you don’t want to fuss over Emma.’s origins at all. It stands on its own. A classic crafted from a classic.

Vanilla Sky (2001) Review

rating: *****

the story: A perfect life goes off the rails in disorienting ways.

review: I just watched Vanilla Sky for the first time. It’s one of those films that took on instant notoriety, so that if you never saw it all you knew was that it was probably problematic at best, incomprehensible at worst. It could not have arrived in theaters at a better, or worse, time.

It’s a remake, but that didn’t help anyone make any better sense of it. It was just weird. 2001 gave us two other, similarly complex films at even more diverging ends of the spectrum. One was A.I. Artificial Intelligence, a Spielberg movie that was also a Kubrick movie, and no one knew what to make of that. The other was Memento, the movie that made Christopher Nolan’s career. With Vanilla Sky, this was a mind-bending confluence of films that seemed to try and reconcile the cerebral injection of M. Night Shyamalan into the language of American cinema. And of course only one of them survived in the popular consciousness, the new voice.

Ten years later Nolan had reprocessed it into Inception, of course, but that was well after Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind had already gotten there, a critical favorite but a box office dud.

Funny enough, but Vanilla Sky might almost be termed an earnest remake of another Jim Carrey film, The Mask. Cameron Crowe seems to go out of his way to evoke the comparisons early in the film, from the casting of Cameron Diaz herself to Tom Cruise aping Carrey’s cartoonish antics for a brief but memorable moment.

And, I gotta say, I really wish anyone remembered any of this.

Crowe was a Hollywood golden boy for a split second. He had a huge success with Jerry Maguire, and then followed that up with the well-received Almost Famous, a version of his own origins. Then he made Vanilla Sky and suddenly could do nothing right.

This is easily his most ambitious film. Anyone, regardless of how they view the merits of the end result, should be able to admit that. Heck, it’s arguably Cruise’s best spotlight, too, at last willing to let it all hang loose. And it’s fascinating. And it spins its web about as seductively as any film appearance Penelope Cruz has ever made, so human and yet so very intoxicating at the same time. And the big twist, even if you know the source material, works, too, for all the subtle setup put into it. The results never lose sight of the end goal, and never wallow in misery. (The only real comparison I have to that is Steven Knight’s brilliant Serenity.) Cruise always has something interesting to work off of, a different character, whether Diaz, Cruz, or Kurt Russell or Jason Lee. There’s even Michael Shannon in a small role for future-proof credibility!

Having now seen it, and maybe it’s the subsequent history of film, and even the equally ambitious TV show Lost I have the pleasure to draw from, but I’m so, so glad to have done so. The history of film in the 21st century falls a little more clearly into place, and a classic takes its place in history.

Hopefully other viewers catch up at some point, too.

The Latest Hollywood Hatchet Job On Orson Welles

Orson Welles was the boy wonder. He achieved miracles. And then he made Citizen Kane, and then to achieve anything at all again became a miracle.

Famously, Welles had to contend with studios butchering his films. The Magnificent Ambersons was the first of them. Later he labored years on projects he couldn’t find proper funding or support for, including The Other Side of the Wind, finally completed and released via Netflix only a few years ago. And now Netflix touts Mank, in which the genius of Citizen Kane itself is ascribed to Herman Mankiewicz. 

Mankiewicz and his family (Tom, even TV host Ben) were a part of the Hollywood establishment. Quite obviously, Welles was not. The film Welles is sometimes best known for these days is The Third Man, which he starred in but did not direct. The insidious nature of the continuing campaign against Orson Welles is such that people don’t even watch Citizen Kane. It’s a critical darling, after the fact, that’s occasionally listed as the best film ever made, but still not a popular one. And anytime it slips from the critical radar, it becomes that much easier to ignore completely. Or rewrite, as it were.

And internet people with opinions (surely an epithet) will talk about Mank as if it actually achieves something. I’ve read from one such voice its Welles is a better one than the real Welles, which is exactly the level of absurdity it’s likely to provoke. Its director, David Fincher, and its star, Gary Oldman, certainly have distinguished pedigree. I just don’t understand why either would so eagerly hitch their wagons to such a project. And it might even shed light into how Citizen Kane was conceived. But not written. Not created. That was Orson Welles. Herman Mankiewicz never approached that level of achievement, before or after. Orson Welles did, with every project he ever pursued.

And we’re supposed to be happy denying that. We’re supposed to marvel at this other guy, this Hollywood hack, in a biopic that attempts to frame him as the real hero of the most sensational movie ever made, the pinnacle of a career that not only chased greatness but accomplished it repeatedly, despite every obstacle. And industry obstruction. Now including posthumous effort. Of which Mank, sadly, may be only the beginning.

Interstellar (2014) Review

rating: *****

the story: An astronaut goes on an epic journey.

review: Outside of Memento and The Dark Knight, my favorite Christopher Nolan film has long been Interstellar. That seems like weird wording, but they are three distinct achievements, and so at least for me it makes sense. The conventional logic always picks Inception as Nolan’s best high concept, but for me Interstellar is infinitely better. It’s not just a piece of clever filmmaking. It may be Nolan’s best emotional investment.

2001: A Space Odyssey effectively began a whole new genre. It’s often overlooked as such but Star Trek: The Motion Picture pioneered efforts to solidify the astronauts in trouble genre. The Hollywood Solaris remake revived it, and of course in recent years there have been so many that many of the more recent ones, including worthy contenders like Ad Astra and High Life are actually obscure. But the best of them, arguably the best overall, is Interstellar.

This is Nolan reaching as far into the profound as he has so far been willing to go, at least as far as the sweep of history 2001 meant to be, toward Terrence Malick, Tree of Life territory. A lot of Nolan’s movies are allegories for his criticisms of conventional modern thinking, what we keep telling ourselves we shouldn’t be doing, what’s so wrong with the world. Here he aims himself at the abject nihilism of our future prospects, chief among them what happens to a planet pushed to its environmental brink, and whether or not humans are capable of adapting.

He pursues this by telling a story about a man and his daughter, a man who goes on an epic quest, and the daughter who doesn’t want him to go, a man who sees wonders, and a daughter who sees wonders, too. About how these wonders are strangely interconnected. 

Matthew McConaughey had just reached his peak of critical approval. He had a one-two punch with True Detective on TV and Dallas Buyers Club in the movies. Suddenly he had his choice of the best material. His charisma has often been taken for granted, his stereotype seen as a big dumb hunk of beef. Yet the career I see is one filled with fascinating choices, full of unbelievable diversity. That’s a story for another day. Suffice it to say, but out of all that Interstellar, for me, somehow stands heads and shoulders above all of it. And his best scenes are wordless, are McConaughey crying at seeing his children, growing up, on a screen.

The bond he shares with his daughter, in particular, portrayed at three different ages, Jessica Chastain in the middle, is of course the heart of the movie. The message their bond sends is often overlooked. Especially if it’s a Disney movie, we’re often told the younger generation has all the answers, but this is a movie that acknowledges how progress can be made through generational ambition, how the dreams and the bonds forged between a father and daughter can change the world.

The splendor of movie magic finds its poetry in an infinite bookshelf that allows them to communicate through time. It feels like Nolan channeling Shyamalan, and maybe this is the precise moment in which they finally meet. I love them both. They are both treasures of the medium. I don’t mind observing this.

The sheer spectacle of the cast alone is worth noting. There’s McConaughey and Chastain, of course; Anne Hathaway, Michael Caine, Casey Affleck, Matt Damon! Topher Grace, John Lithgow, Ellen Burstyn, Timothée Chalamet, David Oyelowo, Wes Bentley...I officially ran out of space in the number of labels Blogger let me add, that’s how rich this cast is. Some roles are larger than others. Every one of them is worth admission.

It is a transcendent experience. For me, that’s the height of cinema, the ability to reach well beyond the normal, not merely some beautifully told tale, but one that’s a truly singular experience, that could not be duplicated in another medium, that uses all the available tools to maximum effect, a convergence of epic talent and vision.

The very strange thing is that Arrival is very much at the same level and tells much the same story and is as tall an achievement, and I don’t much think of them as rivals, and they were in theaters within two years of each other. That’s pretty stellar.

WW84 (2020) Review

rating: *****

the story: Wonder Woman learns and helps others see the danger of wish fulfillment.

review: Sometimes, I admit, if a movie receives overly glowing praise I start to look for reasons other than the movie itself. It goes the same for negative reviews, of course. Generally I will outline all the reasons I did, or didn’t, like a movie in my reviews for this very reason, total transparency. Wonder Woman was a movie that received glowing reviews, in large part, I always suspected, because it was what people thought the DCEU should be like. I hate message reviews. If you like a movie, like it for its own merits. So I kind of put off watching it for a while, and maybe as a result of all this I wasn’t overly wowed by it. 

Well, I was certainly wowed by WW84. Absolutely. This is the kind of confident achievement I expected from the first one, a bold statement that also works as a full spotlight for Wonder Woman herself. So yes, it works on at least two levels.

I suspect part of why people in general aren’t wowed by it is because it hinges itself on a message that seems to fly in the face of all current logic. It seems to say that getting what you want, and perhaps even deserve, might inherently be a bad thing. Most of the people casting wishes in the movie are asking for seemingly good things. Well, as the old saying used to go, careful what you wish for. Funny enough, the movie even references the equally old curse of the monkey’s paw, a magical solution that comes with a terrible price. Genie magic traditionally comes with the same catch, which Disney’s two versions of Aladdin are careful to explain, too.

Yet when Wonder Woman does it, it might actually seem like a bad thing. We’re in a strange era of empowerment at the moment. Somehow in order to be seen as worthy, everyone has to fit into some sort of stereotype. Wonder Woman is of course a woman, and as such empowerment should simply mean she’s a powerful woman. I mean, right?

Except this is a woman who embodies truth, not power. She literally spends the whole movie fighting bad guys while simultaneously going well out of her way to rescue bystanders. Her idea of heroics isn’t to collect all the laurels (I’m almost sad that from the point we next see her she’ll have acquiesced to being a public figure) but merely to do the right thing.

Her rival in the movie has a similar attitude until jealousy leads her to forget it. That’s telling, too. The villain is motivated to make a success of himself. Both of them quickly lose sight of what they stand to lose well before they hold any real power as they pursue that “better version” of themselves.

The opening scene itself is edifying. The young Wonder Woman is so caught up with the idea of winning a competition that she overlooks both the fact that she is by far younger than her opponents and that her shot at victory only happens because she takes a shortcut, even if the opportunity presented itself by accident and not design. We never really see how she overcomes impatience except that in the present she has spent some sixty years leading a lonely life of little outward acclaim and convinced she’ll never love again. And maybe it’s the idea of patience itself that’s the point.

Patty Jenkins is a miracle of visual splendor in a movie that in a lot of respects looks like something we’ve seen as far back as Superman: The Movie. Yet she never once settles for something less than extraordinary. The whole movie pulses with vigor, packed with deliberate, calculated intention.

Gal Gadot and Chris Pine have even better chemistry this second time around, Gadot that incredibly rare idea of a humble superhero, Pine the movie star who never shies away from taking a backseat. Kristen Wiig, who never quite became a movie star despite killing it in Bridesmaids, pulls off her expected (and superhero movie trope) goofy origin mode into an increasingly credible threat. Pedro Pascal, who has become a geek darling thanks to The Mandalorian, is the best ‘80s throwback with his bad hair and cheap but flashy suits. Robin Wright and Connie Nielsen of course remain perfect elder Amazons.

Even the name of the movie was well-calculated. “WW84” can of course be extrapolated as “Wonder Woman [in] 1984,” but also “World War 1984,” or even simply “World War 84,” by which the movie acknowledges Wonder Woman’s WWI origins, and the wars that happened, and nearly happened, in the time between. It seems somehow forgotten that in 1984 the Cold War was in fact still happening. I don’t think that’s Reagan being depicted as president, meanwhile, or doesn’t have to be viewed as such. The nuclear race was raging long enough that just a few years later the most famous single comic book story (Watchmen) hinged itself on the apocalyptic outcome everyone had dreaded since at least the ‘50s.

It’s the kind of experience that isn’t about superheroes being cool. It isn’t a movie set in the ‘80s that tells you so by steeping itself in ‘80s music. It’s a movie set in the ‘80s, drawing on that time period for certain elements but is otherwise a movie about what makes Wonder Woman unique, what makes her special, what makes her, at last, worthy of starring in big budget movies. 

And you wonder what took so long. This isn’t an entry in the DCEU, this is its own experience, fitting in with things we’ve already seen, but most concerned with showcasing a vibrant new take on an increasingly well-worn genre, in which we think we’ve seen it all. If WW84 is any indication, we certainly have not. The best may in fact be yet to come. And WW84 is now in the conversation for the best we’ve yet seen.

The Prestige (2006) Review

rating: ****

the story: Rival magicians push each other to dangerous limits.

review: I’ve had, of all Christopher Nolan’s films, the most difficulty appreciating The Prestige. For me it’s the most desperate of his efforts.

Which is kind of the point.

Following Memento there was tremendous pressure to follow it up with something equally compelling. With his next two films, actually, next three films, including Batman Begins (but that’s another matter entirely), Nolan adapted the work of others rather than conjure his own magic. Insomnia adapted a Swedish film, The Prestige a book. Insomnia, in hindsight, seems to lack the typical Nolan ambition entirely. It is, rather, “merely” Nolan playing, for the first time, as a member of the Hollywood establishment, giving two well-known actors, Al Pacino and Robin Williams, roles that instantly defined that particular stage of their careers. It was atmospheric, but it was very much an actor’s showcase.

The Prestige is the bridge. It is both an actor’s showcase and an obvious return to Nolan’s own brand of magic. 

And deliberately so. I think he took the course he did to reach this point, and beyond it, quite deliberately. Nolan rose to prominence a few years after M. Night Shyamalan’s own breakthroughs. But Shyamalan was quickly, and all but permanently, dismissed as an obvious act, always, at least perceptually, relying on a twist ending to sell his concepts. Nolan didn’t want to be seen as a gimmick filmmaker. So he first stepped away, and then leaned heavily into it.

That’s the whole point of The Prestige, to put a big emphasis on the popular perception of his work.

The story of the movie revolves around rival magicians who very nearly stop at nothing to achieve their magic. In fact, terrible sacrifice, on both their behalves, are revealed as the story reaches its climax. And again, that’s the whole point, but then it’s also in the manner in which they do it, the lengths, and the contrasts between them, they are willing to go.

Which is to say, Nolan is using this film to convey to the audience that he knows what they expect of him, and he is not going to be what they think he is. At least until Inception, anyway, when he will weave his magic in an entirely different manner.

Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman couldn’t possibly do a better job representing all this. They are a new breed of actor, and this is the moment in which they cast off all doubt. They are surrounded by other remarkable performers: Michael Caine, Scarlett Johansson, Rebecca Hall, Piper Perabo, David Bowie, even Andy Serkis, back when he was still best known for motion-capture performances. It takes a bold director to build such a cast, which is itself part of the magic of this movie.

Watching Bale and Jackman duel, learning their awful secrets, Jackman’s final confession (“It was the look on their faces”), emphasizing all over again their contrasts, what motivated them, it’s like another parable, a message well beyond the magic: Is the sacrifice worth it? Or do you become, perhaps, a monster capable of rationalizing anything? 

So when Nolan is ready, four years later, to reveal his own brand of magic again, the stakes have been raised considerably. And he has been working out of that playbook ever since. That’s only possible if he’s willing to sacrifice what came before, that budding artist, the one everyone thought they had figured out. And, well, of course it’s sleight-of-hand.

So yeah, I dig it.

Memento (2001) Review

rating: *****

the story: Guy with memory issues tracks down clues to his wife’s killer.

review: Yeah, I was one of those people who got caught up in Christopher Nolan thanks to Memento, that movie with the apparently gimmicky backwards narrative. I watched his debut feature, Following, which is on the whole fairly similar (an ending that rewrites the whole story), which confirmed for me what I thought of Nolan’s filmmaking. I didn’t actually catch his third movie, Insomnia, until a few years after it was released. I caught back up with him thanks to Batman. I actually thought the other magician rivalry movie from 2006, The Illusionist, was better, even though I enjoyed The Prestige. It wasn’t until Inception (okay, The Dark Knight, which gave me whole new reasons to appreciate Nolan and replaced Memento as my favorite Nolan) that I saw him as truly capable of living up to the promise of Memento as I originally understood his talent.

So I thought pretty highly of it. But it’s not necessarily a movie I went out of my way, in the next twenty years, to revisit.

So watching it again, especially with those additional years and all the subsequent Nolan projects, was quite interesting. I ended up viewing its achievement differently.

It’s actually thanks to his most recent effort, Tenet. A lot of observers think Tenet was basically vastly overhyped. It was an especially strange year, 2020, and Nolan positioned Tenet to carry a lot of weight. A lot of people thought it would be Nolan’s first film to live up to Inception, which is to say it seemed to be so similar, at least as far as its premise looked. But then people actually saw it and they ended up thinking, that backwards time thing, it looked a lot like Memento.

Which is nonsense. The link between them, meanwhile, is real, but also very different than people imagine. Tenet is basically a story about threat prevention. It’s a complicated way to explore what it’s like to stop a tragedy before it happens. So it’s “about” time travel, which in this version looks like time running backwards.

So Memento, from this vantage point, looks different, too. Watching it again, I see it very differently. Maybe I just understand it better now. The whole story is a parable of using, or more accurately misusing, facts.

It’s an interesting thing to think about. We live in an age fraught with the application of facts: facts versus lies, facts as a totem of truth, of moral rectitude. But facts can be unreliable. Facts can in fact be lies. It’s in how they’re reached and how they’re applied that they become, well, dangerous.

And Nolan’s whole story, the way it unfolds, is a perfect testament to that. It doesn’t hurt that he tells it so well, that he has a cast so perfect to purpose, actors who seemingly could never top their roles in it, despite being so interesting: Guy Pearce, Carrie-Anne Moss, Joe Pantoliano. I’ll give you a minute. Tell me one thing any of them did later that was nearly as magnetic. 

Yeah, didn’t think you could. Usually that’s what happens with actors in blockbusters. Later, when Nolan exclusively made blockbusters, he could afford to access actors whose careers were well-established, could pull away from his remarkable gravity, even conjure entire careers from it (Tom Hardy, the true miracle of Inception). Here at the beginning, it was a special kind of privilege to be trapped by it. Because they inhabit the truest form of classic.

This isn’t just a movie with a clever framework, it’s one that exhibits complete command of itself. That’s what defines the potential for greatness, if not greatness itself, why everyone still talks about Christopher Nolan, even if Memento itself seems somehow forgotten. It shouldn’t. If Nolan himself abandoned the relative small scale it represents for an endless series of grand visions, none of them would have been possible without Memento, quite literally. This is the portrait of an artist discovering the canvas. And filling it. And preparing to make that canvas even bigger, in the future. Same talent, different scale. 

You cannot appreciate Nolan, or the art of film itself, without due appreciation of Memento.