"Joker" - review

Literally soul-shattering

They finally did it.  They finally made a comic book movie so rooted in a stylized yet relatable reality that if you were to remove the comic book elements, the tone, message and themes of the film would not significantly change.  Since "Joker" wisely deviates from canon throughout most of its narrative, the movie has a far greater freedom to be its own unique story.  Instead of yet another recitation of the same tired tale, "Joker" becomes one of the best DC films and one of the best comic book movies ever.  It's an incisive and potent origin story of one of the most volatile, infamous and unpredictable literary villains.

Director Todd Phillips was inspired by the complex character studies of such 1970's films as "Network", "Dog Day Afternoon" and of course "Taxi Driver."  Phillips succeeds brilliantly in translating the gritty vibe of New York's infamous crime wave into the sinister streets and malevolent mobs that terrorize Gotham.  We are here to witness the birth of a madman, to see the Joker becoming, and Joaquin Phoenix's performance as Arthur Fleck is colossal.  Joaquin writhes and sways in deep mental anguish, and his corrosive laugh is like battery acid in the ears.  Arthur Fleck is doomed, and we must watch him fall utterly from grace.

We know how the story ends, but getting there can be the worthier part if you tell it right, and I'm thrilled to say that Phillips and Phoenix have f*cking nailed it.  The sickening spiral into which Arthur Fleck plummets is relentless and brutal.  He suffers every indignity.  Arthur loses it all, and then he loses some more.  Watching Joaquin as Arthur implode into the Joker is staggering.  He contorts his body in ways that seem inhuman, and his face becomes a mask struggling between gleeful guffaws and wails of pain.  At its core, "Joker" is about how the callous cruelties of the world can finally break a person's spirit.

The score is phenomenal.  A tremendous piece of work on its own, and a perfect emotional enhancement for every scene.  The cello is especially sublime.  Certain themes make several nods to previous films, but since they are so low-key they don't distract.  Hildur Guðnadóttir will be someone to watch.  Her choice of instruments, melodies and the succeeding combinations are superb.  The elegiac doom of the strings and the pulsing throb of the synths hybridize into an infernal and infected sound.  Through the surges of instrumental insanity, you hear the inevitable disintegration of Arthur's mind.

The time that is taken to detail Arthur's descent into amoral oblivion is absolutely crucial, and the film inexorably builds toward an ending of propulsive and galvanic psychological impact.  For Joaquin Phoenix, it's a career-defining performance.  I was trembling during several scenes.  The Academy will likely nominate Joaquin again, but I'd be amazed if they gave an Oscar to any actor for playing a character so directly and violently opposed to what so many Academy members represent and hold dear.  For decades, the Academy has consistently failed to choose winners based on actual merit, but I believe that the Joker would know how to handle that.

"Why Can't I Be Me? Around You" - review

A harrowing and tremendous journey of self

Les Blank is a legendary name in documentary film, and his son Harrod has capably carried his father's mantle forward with superlative success.  Harrod's latest film, "Why Can't I Be Me? Around You" proudly continues the family tradition of finding fascinating subjects and bringing their stories to a wider audience.  Few people will know who Rusty Tidenberg is, but open-minded viewers who are curious about the myriad and complex lives being quietly led by so many intrepid souls will find Rusty's story utterly beguiling.

At 53, Rusty Tidenberg came out of the closet and began to transition.  He got breast implants and started to openly wear women's clothes.  This critical decision threw his life into chaos, and Harrod's film examines Rusty's tumultuous existence with an intimacy that is deeply moving and consistently inspiring.  Most of Rusty's family and friends initially abandon her, and despite being a brilliant mechanic, Rusty barely gets by financially while also valiantly striving to be true to her new, more complete self.  She knows who she is, but will that be enough?

At first, seeing a masculine face, rippling biceps and calloused hands complimented by red lipstick, blue glitter eyeshadow and ample cleavage can be a shock, but as the film unfolds, these seemingly contradictory things begin to mesh as Rusty's being is further revealed.  She has found happiness in herself, but Rusty's trials continue as most people find it difficult to accept her, especially after having known Rusty for so many years prior to her change in appearance.  As neither man nor woman, Rusty's mental mettle is sorely tested by staking a claim upon a new sexual space with only herself to defend it.  The isolation and loneliness are terrifying.

Even though the story repeatedly jumps forward and backward in time, it works beautifully.  Editor Sjoerd Dijk has done a masterful job piecing together many bits and pieces of Rusty's life to help create a film that could easily come off as a chaotic mess with no cohesion or focus.  However, The stream of consciousness flow from scene to scene feels utterly natural, and Rusty is a captivating subject.  Her emotional vulnerability is matched by her psychological strength, and the film is a mesmerizing, heartbreaking and thrilling chronicle of one person's Herculean struggle to be themselves.

"The Cruise" - review

Fascinating journey, underwhelming destination

I distinctly recall when Bennet Miller's "The Cruise" arrived on DVD back in 1998 as it was an extremely popular rental at the time, especially for a low-budget, independent documentary.  Miller's subject is Timothy "Speed" Levitch, who made a living for years as a tour guide in New York.  Right from the start, Timothy is entertainingly enigmatic.  He spits historical anecdotes about the Big Apple like a slam poet, and his high nasal voice, which is off-putting at first, quickly becomes another charming aspect of Timothy's quirky personality.  He is a perfect subject for intimate intrigue.

There are many funny and philosophical moments where Timothy waxes rhapsodic about his relationship with New York, and it's clear that this love affair has undergone many fluctuations over the years, but no personal stories come to light.  At the end, it still remains unclear why Timothy was inspired to immerse himself in all of the myriad details and anecdotes of the city's storied past and how he came to care so deeply about all the unique people who have lived and died there, leaving behind legacies of potential interest to the next busload of assorted tourists.

However, the film is ultimately unsatisfying as a character study because it never digs below the surface of its initially alluring main character.  Timothy was born and grew up in New York, so it easily follows that he would know the city well.  Yet we never learn anything revealing about Timothy.  His knowledge of the places and people of New York is extensive, yet Timothy's own past remains largely unexplored.  What was Timothy's childhood like?  How did his parents raise him?  We're never told.  Unlike the rapid-fire facts in his various tour narrations, Timothy preserves his personal mysteries.  

One brief scene shows Timothy ascending a staircase and opening a door to an apartment where a friend has allowed him to crash.  In another scene in conversation with one of his co-workers, it's suggested that Timothy sometimes only works 20 hours a week, so at the very least, his lifestyle seems fairly hardscrabble, especially given the cost of living in such a major metropolitan area.  The black and white cinematography beautifully echoes this meager existence, but again, hard truths fail to surface.  "The Cruise" is breezy and fun, but overall it's like a beautiful and ornate frame around a nascent painting that is urgently awaiting further brush strokes.