Movies
That Ed Wood is the best Tim Burton movie by such a wide margin (beating my other favorite, Big Fish, by a country mile) leads me to the uncomfortable idea that Burton is way better without the things that we normally associate with Good Burton: showily Expressionist scenery, Gothic fantasy, S&M, Danny Elfman. To be sure, the first couple of those tropes exist in Ed Wood, but they are pared waaaay down when compared to other Golden-Age-Burton output—it's by no means a subtle movie, but Ed Wood is perhaps the closest we've ever gotten to subtlety in this famously flamboyant director's filmography. So, maybe Burton is better when he's just a little less obviously himself than usual? It's a disheartening revelation in a movie that features such an unapologetic affection for the supposed worst director of all time; there's an easy possible version of this movie that depicts Ed Wood with all sorts of condescension: he's a fool, ignorant of his own shortcomings, filled with pretension and myopia. But Burton's version (and Depp's, who plays Wood with tenderness and empathy—rarely has Tim's favorite actor been so vital to the impact of Tim's film) says something different: that maybe it doesn't matter how good something is, just that it's done sincerely, with the kind of dorky passion that only a true outcast can muster. So maybe I've just missed the big fat point with my Burton critique? Grade: A
This one snuck up on me. Leave it to Errol Morris, ever the docu-philosopher, to turn an ordinary documentary (well, "ordinary") about a robot scientist, a naked-mole-rat expert, a topiary trimmer, and a lion tamer into a treatise on consciousness and individuality. It's talking-head documentary-making taking to the abstract expressionist edge, and it's riveting. I had to take a walk afterward—it's not necessarily heavy viewing, but the ideas slowly envelope your mind like creeping vines until you can't shake them. Grade: A
A loose, artsy adaptation of Melville's Billy Budd, apparently, which might mean more to me if I had read Billy Budd. As it is, we've got a movie that's hard-to-follow and kind of boring (in a meditative, considered way that's boring nonetheless) but also mercifully beautiful, albeit in that "handheld, accidentally beautiful" way that I don't particularly enjoy all that much. I demand for film compositions to be stable and intentional-looking, dang it! Grade: B-
A great example of how style, not plot, is cinema's most valuable commodity. Because honestly, the plot here kind of sucks, particularly when it comes to Christina Ricci's woefully underdeveloped and possibly fetishized Layla, the kidnappee/love interest (I know, right?) for Vince Gallo's infinitely more interesting and alternatingly scary and hilarious Billy. But on a style level, we've got a nearly masterful combination of film grain, editing, music, lighting, and framing that pretty much single-handedly rescues the film from its male-centric tropes and turns it into one of the most distinctive-looking indies of the past couple decades. I mean, it's still not great, but it's hard to hate a movie with both Yes and King Crimson so skillfully deployed on its soundtrack. Grade: B+
Books
Now that I'm teaching high school, I've decided to make a more diligent effort to keep up with YA lit outside the blockbuster Hunger Games/Harry Potter field, as most of my experience with that genre comes from at least a decade back (and most often begins and ends with Robert Cormier). This was my first stop on that journey. It's pretty good—A. S. King evokes a fantastic voice in her protagonist/narrator, and the basic premise, examining the psychological fallout of a child from one of those "Emergency Nanny"-type reality shows appeals a lot to my general loathing of that kind of show. The ending doesn't work at all: it stares right into the abyss so compellingly in its middle hundred pages that the sudden shift toward positivity and self-actualization at the conclusion feels under-cooked. But the journey there is funny, scary, and all kinds of readable. Grade: B
Television
Anyone paying attention to Rachel Bloom's fantastic video work prior to last fall (I wasn't) would have had no problem anticipating the Bloom-starring/co-created/co-written CW musical comedy, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, as the sharp, gutsy, laugh-out-loud hilarious show it turned out to be, not to mention just how hummable the songs are. But I think what caught everyone off-guard was the depths of the emotional stakes here. Bloom deserves pretty much all the awards for imbuing what even the theme song acknowledges is a sexist term with wonderful, aching human life. It's sharp, laugh-out-loud, etc., yes, but it's also a moving, messy examination of what it means to be happy in modern life. Which is, like, amazing considering the really kooky premise of the show. The first few episodes are kind of duds, but once you get to the one with the "Sex With a Stranger" song and the Astaire-Rogers homage (that both of those can exist in the same series should give you an idea of just how wonderful this show is), it's pretty much gold through the end. If you're only going to catch up with one new show from the past TV season, make it this one. Grade: A-
Music
Black Mountain and their signature Pink Floyd/Black Sabbath revival sound with an album that is particularly Floydian and Sabbath-ish, in equal measures. The long, atmospheric passages and guitar solos (and heck, that cover art) is vintage Wish You Were Here, while the punchier, crunchier songs are straight Master of Reality. Plus, there's the gloriously unironic use of sci-fi imagery and proggy synths throughout, which, come on, we need more sci-fi songs these days. Like most revival-type albums, some of the stuff here ventures a little too close to pastiche at times, and the music can seem a little thinner than the legends it's trying to evoke. But when you get right down to it, this is either going to be your thing or not, and your love of Pink Floyd and Black Sabbath is pretty much going to determine that thingness. Grade: B+
