"Mindwalk" - review

 

Mind Blown and Soul Stirred

Potential pedophile Woody Allen has a hilarious line from “Annie Hall” where he is hiding out in the bedroom of his girlfriend's upscale New York apartment watching basketball on television instead of mixing with the socialite crowd that has gathered for lengthy repartee over wine and hors d'oeuvres.  She comes in and asks him: “What are you doing here?”  Allen replies: “You know, it's one thing about intellectuals. They prove that you can be absolutely brilliant and have no idea what's going on.”

While this is funny on the surface, it also sharply reveals Allen’s long-simmering and deep-seated mistrust of people whose life experience didn’t come from “the street.”  Perhaps attending and then dropping out of both New York University and the City College of New York fueled his neurotic need to prove his worth in other unconventional ways.  Regardless, Allen’s cynical assessment of the educational system and the people who graduate from it is beautifully and subtly refuted by writer-director Bernt Capra’s dense but delightful film “Mindwalk.”

“My Dinner with Andre” is very much a sibling story to “Mindwalk” as both films involve one long conversation over the entire running time.  The actors are of equal caliber and superb in their roles with the main difference being that "Mindwalk" has three debaters.  While they do share a brief lunch together, they spend most of their time strolling from one location to another.  The various subjects that are examined and the philosophies expounded are a heady feast, making “Mindwalk” a sumptuous serving of intellectualism in a way that is engaging and inspiring both verbally and visually.

The staunchly altruistic Sam Waterston plays Jack, a politician who was recently defeated as a presidential candidate.  Jack seeks solace and support from his long-time friend Tom, a reclusive poet and former speechwriter of Jack’s.  They soon encounter Sonia, played by frequent Ingmar Bergman muse Liv Ullmann.  Sonia is a physicist who is on a long sabbatical due to deep misgivings over her work being appropriated by the military. She joins the two men and together they wander through the beguiling and unique landscape of France’s Mont Saint-Michel while spiritedly debating the nature of life, meaning and purpose.

The tide of their dialogue ebbs and flows across a multitude of subjects while at multiple points each character’s perspective is revealed and then called into question.  Jack’s view of the world is pragmatic but narrow, and he fails to see how all the myriad problems that he wishes to solve are so intrinsically intertwined.  Tom is bitter.  He believes his marriage is failing and he cannot seem to find a reason to greet the future with optimism.  Yet, Tom is not without hope and a desire to do better.  While deeply hurt by the malignant perversion of her research, Sonia has not lost one ounce of her conviction that so many of humanity’s ills could be corrected if only more of us could see how deeply connected we are to everyone and everything on this planet.

This might all sound like a sonorous preachy bore, but the actors do a superlative job of making lengthy speeches and complex ideas feel spontaneous and vital.  They verbally joust with each other without being insulting or dismissive, and it feels like they all part ways having learned a little more and gained a greater understanding.  There are also some delightful moments of intimate humor that provide welcome breaks from the grandiose discussions.  “Mindwalk” is pure brain food, but thankfully it has none of the soporific qualities of a high school classroom at 8am on a Monday morning.  The film is a glorious feast of ideas and sets a table at which anyone would desire to take a place and partake in the eternal quest for enlightenment.

"Metropolis" - review

"Metropolis" is Monumental

I suspect that for many people, Fritz Lang’s “Metropolis” is one of those films which everybody knows but few have seen.  I was the same.  From the very beginning of my passion for science fiction, the iconic robot was on the cover of the VHS and pictured in every book where the film was mentioned in hallowed tones.  What a shock then to finally discover that this character plays such a tiny part in the actual film!  Actually, that's not entirely true, but to say more would rob the film of one its many surprises.

“Metropolis” had an ignominious debut upon the cinematic stage in 1927.  It was heavily edited almost immediately after its theatrical release and yet it was still a huge loss for studio UFA because of the massive production budget.  The film’s history since then was plagued by more alterations in the form of colorization and new soundtracks, none of which served Fritz Lang’s prescient vision.

In 2008 something wonderful happened in the Argentinian capitol of Buenos Ares.  A 16mm reduction negative of the original cut was discovered.  While heavily damaged, this print was cleaned and restored as best as possible and finally, after over eight decades of darkness, the true light of “Metropolis” was able to shine again.

I had never seen the truncated version of the film, and I’d not been aware that the versions in circulation were not complete.  What a blessing that was as I didn’t have a previous memory in my mind with which to constantly compare.  I watched the restored version with virgin eyes, and it was an incredibly moving experience.

Of course, there are elements to the story and characters which will no doubt feel outdated or cliché, but one must be mindful of the time when “Metropolis” was released.  The language of film was still quite new, being barely thirty years old.  Tropes and genres were still coalescing, but the creative energy and fervent enthusiasm of “Metropolis” suffuses every frame with a supernova of invention.

What is especially interesting about watching the Complete version is that you can tell which parts are restored and immediately realize how necessary they are to the story and characters.  “Metropolis” is now just over two and half hours, and it needs every second to convey its multilayered message.  The film builds to a tremendous climax that is just as relevant now as it was almost one hundred years ago.

"Quatermass and The Pit" - review

 

A heady Hammer hullabaloo of horror!

Director Roy Ward Baker’s first Hammer film is a doozy!  Released in America under the title “Five Million Years to Earth”, I later saw it on broadcast television and loved the grand yet disparate ideas that the story wove together.  While the film was favorably received, I’ve rarely seen it mentioned in discussions of horror or science fiction, which is a shame because “Quatermass and The Pit” is a dusky gem.  The special effects might seem cheesy to modern eyes, but the inventive story and distinctive characters provide superb support, making the film an ominous and thrilling delight throughout.

Adapted from a previous BBC television serial of the same name which was also penned by screenwriter Nigel Kneale, “Quatermass and The Pit” is a mesmerizing mélange of mysticism, the supernatural, apocryphal evolutionary theory and extraterrestrial speculation.  Construction workers excavating a new tunnel for the London Underground unearth what appear to be human bones that are inexplicably millions of years old, far more ancient than any ever discovered.  Then a large and very strange object reveals itself, which is first surmised to be a World War II missile.

Professor Quatermass is brought in to examine the object and advance his theories, all of which are snidely dismissed by the British Army Colonel assigned to deal with the now potentially perilous situation.  Now determined to be comprised of no material known to modern science, the skin of the object proves impervious to even the most powerful drills. When a secret chamber inside opens by itself, frightful visions are experienced and soon London and the entire world are threatened by sinister signs of a second apocalypse.

To give any further details on the titillating twists and turns that the story takes would be a cardinal cinematic sin.  Suffice to say that “Quatermass and The Pit” has a grandiose vision and achieves it remarkably well given the modest budget and production values.  The cast does a wonderful job with their respective characters, and the snappy pacing keeps your wide-eyed attention glued to the screen, waiting with bated breath for the next cosmos-encompassing revelation of doom.

Keep calm and carry on!

 

"Rectify" - review

 

A long night’s journey into day

Fans of “Deadwood” will recognize the name of Ray McKinnon as the actor who played Reverend Smith, the incredibly decent and humble pastor who was tragically broken by the horrors of the Civil War.  When I discovered that McKinnon was the creator and producer of “Rectify”, that was all I needed to know to give the show a try, and as the episodes unfolded it quickly became clear that there are many similarities between McKinnon’s Reverend Smith and the lead character of this series.

Aden Young plays Daniel Holden, who was sent to Death Row at the age of 18 for allegedly raping and murdering his teenaged girlfriend.  Nearly two decades later, new DNA evidence releases Daniel from prison and he returns home to his family.  However, the years that Daniel spent in isolation have taken their toll on his gentle spirit, and the primary question of the show is whether Daniel will be able function on the outside or if the trauma of his incarceration has permanently ruined his chances for a second life.

The cast of “Rectify” is ample, but since the show has four seasons, every character is very distinct.  Their arcs are subtle, deeply inspiring and several of them also contain delightful surprises.  Most crucially, no character is extraneous.  Every actor is given moments to shine, and while much of the drama does delve into the trauma of abuse and neglect with an unflinching gaze, there are glorious and intimate scenes of tenderness, grace and connection.  Light still shines even in the deepest shadows.

Aside from the superlative writing and acting, “Rectify” also does an extraordinary job of playing against initial expectations in the most delightful way.  Far too many TV shows will have their characters make maddeningly arbitrary decisions that contradict their previous behavior.  “Rectify” wisely does the opposite.  Instead of a slapdash execution of annoying and confounding red herrings, the characters actively work to grow beyond their shortcomings and become even more admirable than they were before.

Eventually you fall in love with almost everyone, and I’ve never wept with so much joy over seeing so many beautiful people struggle with so much grief, anger and frustration and yet still treat each other with dignity, respect and love.  Witnessing all these wonderful and varied souls continue to support and encourage each other was inspiring in a way that challenges my every attempt to choose the proper words.  Still, there is the nagging worry that perhaps this beloved family won't make it.

Thankfully, the last episode is one of the most emotionally transcendent viewing experiences I have ever had.  I completely broke down.  As the credits rolled, so too did more tears of blessedness roll down my cheeks at the serenity that was finally achieved.  It was almost as if I had been released from prison!  After having spent so much time with this family and my heart continually breaking for their ongoing suffering and doubt, the ending was one of the most beatific moments of deliverance from darkness that I have been privileged to witness.

It is a long, dark road to get there, but it is SO worth it.

"The Rise of Skywalker" - review

A breathless and bombastic bore

When JJ Abrams was announced as the writer-director of the first of the new Disney Star Wars sequels, it seemed like a good fit because many of Abrams’ previous films had shown his affection for the great science-fiction blockbusters of the Eighties.  However, once “The Force Awakens” finally premiered, it was revealed that while Abrams had a flair for recreating the aesthetic and tone of the original trilogy, the story was too faithful and the film quickly devolved into a clumsy and obvious retread of Episode IV.  Still, fans hoped that the next entry would provide more detail and clarity by developing and expanding upon the new material in unique ways.

"See that headstone over there?
That's where I'm gonna set up your character for assassination in the next film."

Unfortunately, Rian Johnson’s “The Last Jedi” was a cinematic stink bomb of morbid gloom and glaring contradictions.  Johnson’s approach was certainly original in some ways, but it was mostly in service of ignoring or discarding the little bit of groundwork that “The Force Awakens” had attempted.  In particular, the deconstruction of Luke into a bitter, angry hermit was incendiary and incredibly divisive, and some fans began to wonder if Disney understood Star Wars at all.  If the ultimate goal is to re-invigorate the franchise, why allow its greatest hero to be ground into the dirt?

This was wrong on so many levels.

Disney dragged JJ Abrams back for the final film in the hopes that he might help extinguish some of the flames still burning due to the garbage fire that Rian Johnson left behind.  Was Abrams successful?  If you value ham-fisted nostalgia pandering and hollow spectacle over narrative cohesion and fully developed characters, then the answer is yes.  For those of us who prefer Star Wars to have meaningful, thought-provoking and inspiring content as well as lightsabers and thrilling heroics, then “The Rise of Skywalker” is an abject failure in nearly all respects.

Will he?  Won't he?  I DON'T CARE.  Stop trying to make me.
I never have.

There are a few moments or scenes that do briefly work, but I cannot recall them clearly now because they were completely drowned out by the constant assault of more senseless action sequences of dubious dramatic value.  “The Force Awakens” offered little in the way of new material, and then “The Last Jedi” did its best to dismiss or destroy that material.  Therefore “The Rise of Skywalker” has to start from scratch, resulting in a screenplay that is basically three films collapsed into one.  JJ Abrams and co-writer Chris Terrio are NOT up to this formidable writing task, and boy, does it show! 

One of several huge unintended belly laughs.

Right from the opening crawl there are constant warning alarms going off like a nuclear reactor on the verge of meltdown, which is kind of what the movie is: an overheated plate of nostalgia which has been zapped so many times that it’s catching fire.  Abrams and Terrio try their best, but you cannot expect to successfully bluster your way haphazardly through the final chapter of a trilogy of trilogies!  The manic pacing does nothing to obscure the meandering and preposterous story, and the incessant barrage of visual fireworks burns out whatever ragged threads of coherence may remain.  

This was. . .*sigh*. . .WTF?!

I did not go to see "The Rise of Skywalker" in theaters because by that point I was done.  “The Force Awakens”, “Rogue One” and “The Last Jedi” had all demonstrated to me that Disney does not care about Star Wars, and even worse, they don't understand what makes it work.  The purchase of the franchise now feels solely based on the assumption that Disney would have a license to print money by churning out more Star Wars films as quickly as possible with the least effort.  However, that’s NOT how you properly care for a pop culture phenomenon and now iconic IP.  

An impossible armada and an even more improbable source of POW-AH!

True art cannot be ceaselessly manufactured off an assembly line.  More of something is not necessarily a good thing, and in my limited and heavily biased experience, film sequels are almost always an exercise in quickly diminishing returns.  There are rare exceptions, especially in the adaptations of novels or other print media, but for films which aren’t based upon already existing material, the ratio of creativity to greed becomes more inversely proportional, and Disney’s stewardship of Star Wars has reflected this trend.

Do you hear Sergio Leone?

One glorious exception is “The Mandolorian.”  I was extremely suspicious of everything about this first Star Wars TV show, but I was barely five minutes into the first episode before I fell completely in love.  Part of this is due to the rustic, outlier Western-style setting and vibe of the show, but the crucial ingredient is simplicity.  "The Mandolorian" has a small cast, modest production design and humble adventures, and when compared to the sprawling, convoluted sagas of the Prequels and Sequels, it becomes clear to me that while Star Wars needs to be epic in many ways, its stories should be clean and uncomplicated.

One of the best original character re-visitations.

I had watched all of "The Mandolorian" prior to seeing "The Rise of Skywalker", and the vast difference between the two in terms of narrative complexity was thrown into sharp and shocking contrast.  There is WAY too much happening in "The Rise of Skywalker" and the overstuffed story confounds comprehension with whiplash-inducing pendulum swings between the illogical and the impossible.  Worse still, the narrative is without consequence as several beloved and major characters are ostensibly killed only to be hastily resurrected in the next scene.  This nullifies any sense of tension because despite the relentless action, there is a complete absence of stakes.  No stakes, no drama.

Of course, there is the possibility that Disney may learn a thing or two and modify their approach to production on future Star Wars films, but I am not optimistic that we will see original stories with distinctive characters as long as the franchise continues to make billions with bullshit.  If there is any hope for the future, it is that Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni will be given a film (or trilogy) of their own.  Aside from Genndy Tartakovsky, only Jon and Dave have shown that they understand exactly what Star Wars is and what it needs to be in order to continue to joyfully hyper-space all of us once again to a galaxy far, far away.

"Help us, Favreau and Filoni!  You're our only hope!"

"Parasite" - review

This “Parasite” was rejected

I loved writer-director Bong Joon-Ho’s earlier horror film (ironically titled “The Host”) for its rare ability to present the monster in broad daylight at the beginning and then maintain an atmosphere of mystery and dread until to the very end.  Aside from the gripping main plot of a missing family member being held captive by the monster, “The Host” also shows how governments react when widespread panic and rumors erupt out of the public confusion over the nature and origin of the beast.  The combination of creature feature and political commentary was well-balanced and very evocative of the eco-horror movies of the eighties.

I knew almost nothing about “Parasite” prior to seeing it, and that was certainly best as too much information would certainly have spoiled many surprises and undercut the taught dramatic tension.  For the first two thirds of the film, I was utterly enraptured.  I welcomed “Parasite” into my being, smiling and laughing constantly at the energy and invention.  It was filthy, raw, funny and clever.  The characters were engaging, their world was compelling, and the evolution of the story felt organic and repulsively mesmerizing.  Then the garden party began, and my immersion was quickly shattered.

The sweet adoration I had felt curdled into sour disappointment, and I sat through the rest of the film with my arms crossed, frowning like an ardent lover betrayed by a capricious paramour.  I had been so happy to be enthralled by such an adroit and complex story, and I was now heartbroken watching it devolve into a climax sadly reminiscent of a cheesy slasher flick.  The madcap and multilayered scheming employed with great attention to detail and psychological motivation was obliterated by a simplistic and hyperbolic bloodbath.  The subtle symbiosis was disrupted, and I angrily severed my intimate connection.

“Parasite” attempts to examine the massive class divisions in South Korean society and how these gaps negatively affect two families and their livelihoods.  While they share some similarities, their fates are both determined by the power of wealth as a quick and easy fix for just about any problem. The film presents varied problems throughout, but no commentary is made regarding the theme of usury from above or below until the father of the poverty-stricken family delivers a nihilistic soliloquy at the very end that completely contradicts the motivation for every single action that he and his brood have thus far undertaken, so “Parasite” withers because there’s little satisfaction to be derived from a seemingly pointless journey.

"The Irishman" - review

An uneven and overlong but entertaining experiment

"The Irishman" was one of the most eagerly anticipated Hollywood films of 2019.  Adapted from the novel "I Heard You Paint Houses" by Charles Brandt, which follows the career of mafia muscle man Frank Sheeran, "The Irishman" seemed poised to be another stellar entry for director Martin Scorcese, who would be returning to the gangster genre in which he had made such cinematic benchmarks as "Goodfellas" and "Casino."  The film also heralded Joe Pesci's return to the screen after ostensibly retiring twenty years ago.

To many this came as no surprise as Scorcese's decision to cast Pesci  in "Raging Bull" was what made the young actor's career.  Even more enticing was that "The Irishman" would reunite Pesci with Robert De Niro, and that these two Scorcese alumni would be joined by Al Pacino, completing a trifecta of Hollywood mob icons.  Could this long-lauded assemblage make a three and a half hour biography that's also a compelling character story?

Most of the time, yeah, sure!  Scorcese knows these underworld denizens quite well and is adept at navigating their turbulent world.  Marty is also expert at leading the audience down dark hallways fraught with fear, suspicion and betrayal in a way that is often as engrossing as it is repulsive.  "The Irishman" is a sprawling and complicated saga, but it's potential for greatness is hampered by several things.  Let's start with the overcrowded but outstanding roster of supporting actors.

Stephen Graham from "Boardwalk Empire"

Bobby Cannavalle, Kathrine Narducci (Charmaine Bucco in "The Sopranos"), and Ray Romano

Everybody is in this movie!  I would be willing to guarantee that half the fun for fans of this genre will be identifying actors who have played similar roles in other films and TV series.  Of course, who wouldn't want to be in a Martin Scorcese film?  Nobody, that's who!

Domenic Lombardozzi ("Herc" in "The Wire") in his "Fat" Tony Salerno makeup.

Despite the makeup and the years that pass, you never forget a favorite face or voice, and it's a delight to see and hear so many familiar ones.  However, some of these actors don't have critical roles despite being in significant portions of the film.

In particular, Anna Paquin doesn't have much purpose as Frank Sheeran's wise-beyond-her-years daughter.  You could cut her out entirely and reduce the film's running time by 30 minutes without affecting the narrative at all.  There is no resolution to her long-held judgement regarding her father and her very conflicted feelings about the work he does, so her continued presence is not critical.

Now we come to the de-aging CGI, which was of course much ballyhooed as it had never been used to this extent in a film before and many doubted that it would be effective, especially after the release of the film was delayed so that more time could be spent fine-tuning certain scenes.  I think the CGI works quite well on Pacino and Pesci, as I never found it noticeable and thus distracting, but with De Niro I'd say that there's about a fifty-fifty ratio of good versus bad.

The eyes truly are the window to the soul, and for me, there were far too many shots where De Niro's eyes appeared mismatched or their color artificially enhanced. I felt that more work needed to be done to finish these shots as the appearance of the character's face and succeeding expressions often came close to cartoonish, so my immersion was broken and the drama undermined.

Still, the impressive cadre of actors makes most of the film throb with tension through the sheer force of their talent and presence.  The writing by Steve Zaillian is excellent, and everyone makes magnificent use of the specialized speaking style of gangsters to convey mortal danger through the most innocuous conversations.

The obtuse way in which a lifelong friend can be instantly condemned to death with a few short, vague sentences and a slight gesture of the hand is a hallmark of mob movies, and few directors create that singular sense of dread hiding within the mundane better than Martin Scorcese.

However, there is one last, overarching issue, and that is despite Robert De Niro being one of the great actors of our time, the character that he plays was very likely a certifiable sociopath.  Frank Sheeran killed so many people without remorse and without much thought at all.  He just did it.  As such, Frank is not a very compelling or interesting main character because of his near absence of introspection and lack of psychological turmoil over his ice-cold actions.

Murder never bothers him, and so it never comes across as a big deal.  As the credits begin to roll, you aren't left feeling sad or angry, and perhaps that's the point of the story, but when you come to the end of such a turgid tale of deceit, treachery and assassination, I don't think you're out of line to want more of a summation than: "It is what it is."