Movies
Not sure why the movie farts around for half an hour as an Agatha Christie parody when it is, for most of its runtime, more in line with something Alfred Hitchcock might have done. Knives Out is a lumpily structured movie, and there are several moments when you can practically hear the movie's gears grinding as it delivers one of its several left turns. The tremendous cast is also pretty inconsistently utilized, too, especially Jamie Lee Curtis and Don Johnson, who are given such a vibrant showcase in the opening Agatha Christie section before becoming essentially irrelevant for the next 90 minutes as the movie takes its true form as a Craig/Evans/de Armas show. Yet that said—what a show, you know? It's really easy to list off this movie's flaws, but it's just as easy to forgive them, because everything after the movie's first reveal (i.e. the shift from Christie to Hitchcock) is such a delight on a moment-by-moment basis. Sometimes people talk about movies that are fun to watch being "effortless," and that's certainly not the case for Knives Out, which goes out of its way to highlight all the work that went into its cleverness—in the typical mystery/thriller manner, it explains multiple times the motivations and timelines central to its plot, and the loopy dialogue really underlines its sharp turns of phrase. Usually I would dock a movie for this kind of showiness, except that I must invoke the Fun Principle here: I just had a great time, y'all. That Daniel Craig accent? That nasty, nasty Chris Evans character? That Ana de Armas sweetness? That breezy plotting that keeps the movie galloping along unfailingly through 130 minutes and several tonal shifts? *chef kiss* The same goes for its thematic ambitions, which aren't particularly complex but that I found cathartic regardless: as much as I think the movie could have given a lot more complexity to its thoughts on class/immigration, it's hard not to cheer at the final minute. This is just a really great confection. Grade:B+
Deeply delightful in a way I was not expecting. I was ready for a silly adventure and some fun Hanks/Ryan chemistry; I was NOT ready for a Brazil-esque satire of capitalism, nor an occasionally profound reflection on existentialism, both of which Joe Versus the Volcano also is. I was DEFINITELY NOT ready for Meg Ryan in this movie, who plays her three roles with more vim and careening recklessness than I've ever seen in a Ryan performance—hilarious, wonderfully unhinged, and also strikingly sad at times, too, and I'm prepared to die on the hill that this movie is the best she's ever been. The movie would be a total masterpiece if it didn't lose itself somewhat once it arrives at the titular volcano, but given the trifle I was expecting, I can forgive the shaky landing when the experience is so rich otherwise. Grade: A-
This was something of a feat to track down, but I'm glad that I did, because it's absolutely incredible. Probably the most consistently visually inventive animated movie I've ever seen—imagine that poster in motion, for the entire movie; there's never a moment where something new or dazzling isn't happening onscreen, and for as much as the aesthetic of this movie is unified, every motion of every character is a wonderful surprise. On a plotting level, it's also the most purely folkloric movie I've ever seen, maintaining the iterative repetition and completely slippery sense of reality that a lot of world mythology has. How cool is this kind of European mythology, too? It's a real shame that Greek/Roman mythology casts such a long shadow over Europe's collective identity, given that Greek/Roman is one of the worst mythologies qua mythology, overcooked and schematic as it is. Gimme that weird, primal Central Europe stuff (but not in a white-supremacist way, pleaseandthankyou). Grade: A
I found this to be pretty gross, tbh—specifically for the way it constantly conflates scenes of sexual violence with eroticism. The movie gestures toward nominally feminist ideas, but it seems completely unlikely to me that anything but horniness was in the driver's seat here, which is troubling, given the subject matter. The ending connecting the story to the French Revolution is mega-dumb, too. And yet, I would be lying if I said I was into animation for anything other than the art style, and Belladonna of Sadness has that by the ton. Its art nouveau + psychedelia + watercolors aesthetic is frequently stunning, and there are at least two sequences (the introduction of the Black Plague and the village orgy) that rank among the coolest animated scenes I've ever seen. The acid-prog score really works for me, too. I just wish I weren't so repulsed by most of what happens. Grade: C+
Decently engaging on a moment-by-moment basis, though like a lot of moral parables of the time, some of the connective tissue between the big setpieces feels a little thin. Also, it's pretty messed up that the movie basically says that God killed a little girl so her father could learn his lesson and become mayor. The Lord works in mysteriously violent ways, I suppose. Grade: C+
Music
If there's a ground zero for the 21st-century conception of a blockbuster pop album, Rhythm Nation 1814 is almost certainly it. A genre-blending style unified by a social consciousness and a deep dancefloor sensibility; a blurred line between producer and artist; there was even a tie-in short film that aired on MTV (surely 1989's YouTube). Sure, pieces of this all existed before—many pioneered by Janet's brother Michael—but this is where it all came together. It's astonishingly forward-thinking. Oh, and it straight-up rules. Like a lot of modern pop albums, it's too long, and and like pop albums throughout the ages, it peaks early (very early—"Rhythm Nation," the first proper track after the opening interlude, is 100% the best song here. Some of the interludes are a little slight, too. But otherwise, it's a great time. If you somehow still need encouragement to check out Janet Jackson, here's my endorsement. Grade: A-
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