Showing posts with label Guy Maddin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Guy Maddin. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2018

Favorite Movies of 2018

I've heard a lot of people talk about 2018 being a weak year for movies, but given the incredibly difficulty I had in trimming my original "favorite movies" list down to a mere 10, I have to say that I do not at all understand this sentiment.

In significant ways, 2018 may be the end of an era for me with film. My involvement with the Cinematary site and podcast has deepened; Knoxville's Public Cinema, my local source for recent foreign and avant-garde cinema, sadly seems to have gone into hibernation for the most part; the Central Cinema's magnificent opening has drawn me away from some new releases in the interest of revisiting (or experiencing for the first time) some classics; and, most majorly, my wife and I are just a few weeks away (at most!) from becoming first-time parents. Needless to say, my viewing habits will likely shift radically in 2019, and at the very least, I will not have time to watch the literally hundreds of films that I watched in 2018. Which is great! I don't begrudge any of those changes (well, except maybe the retreat of the Public Cinema, which makes me sad). It's all part of life's rich pageant, etc. But I guess what I'm saying is that maybe this year feels special for me because I won't experience movies in the same way ever again.

We all change, as does the world around us, and in a way, my top 10 this year is obsessed with change: the apocalyptic visions of First Reformed and Sorry to Bother You, the institutional pandemonium of The Death of Stalin and The Other Side of the Wind, the personal growth-regression cycles of Leave No Trace and Support the Girls, the industry-paradigm-shattering Into the Spider-Verse—these are all films that, to one degree or another, force their characters to come to grips with a universe that is rapidly shifting, often for the worse, sometimes delicately toward the better. Stasis is sort of a paradox of the human condition—our deepest desire, while also the least attainable. And, I mean, that's cinema, right? Twenty-four changes a second.

Anyway, enough pretentious twaddle. Here are my favorite movies, plus some. Let me know what you liked this year, too! That's the point of lists like this: to share. So please do.

Oh, and don't forget about my other year-end list, My Favorite Music of 2018!

Favorite Movies


1. First Reformed
In updating both Winter Light and Taxi Driver for the 2010s, Paul Schrader threw his career masterpiece at the razor's edge of 2018 existential terror. This film hasn't left my mind since I saw it, and its rendering of activism and even terrorism as functions of the parallel tensions of hope and despair has never ceased stinging—to say nothing of the profoundly searing way with which it makes us (me) confront the ramifications of grace. Essential to my spiritual formation in the way that very few movies are.

[Read original review]



2. Hereditary
Still the scariest thing I've seen in a theater all year—probably all decade. I am not at all kidding when I say I sweat through my t-shirt. I almost left the theater before the film ended. Even better, it's still the most unshakable treatise on family and mental illness I've seen, possibly ever. First Reformed became more of a foundation for my interior life this year, but make no mistake, Hereditary has wormed its way deep into my psyche.

[Read original review]




3. Support the Girls
Working food service sucks. But you know what doesn't suck? This movie. The warmest film I saw all year, for sure, and one of the best indie-film ensembles in a while. Rarely has the world of minimum-hourly-wage work been so carefully and compassionately evoked in a movie. It's funny, it's sad, it's cathartic, it's great. I think a lot of people slept on Support the Girls, but now that it's got a home release, here's your chance to catch up with it.

[Read original review]




4. Sorry to Bother You
I'm still waiting for the Equisapien Revolution to come and save us for our capitalist overlords. Because I don't know if you've noticed, but things are bleak, y'all. At least in the meantime, we have Boots Riley giving us some of the best satire in American cinema.

[Read original review]






5. Mission: Impossible - Fallout
This movie kind of makes me mad because it means that at the end of next year, I'll probably have to make room for two Mission: Impossible movies in my "Favorite Films of the Decade" list. I guess it's the price I pay for having experienced that helicopter scene.

[Read original review]






6. The Green Fog
People say that avant-garde cinema is impenetrable and no fun; I say, "But you can remake Vertigo with film clips of Michael Douglas talking to a younger, more naked version of himself."

[Read original review]







7. The Other Side of the Wind
Does a movie filmed in the '70s and edited in the mid-2010s count as a 2018 movie? I don't care. This frequently brilliant, often incomprehensible relic of Orson Welles's utter disdain for the Hollywood New Wave as well as for the old, corrupt studio system it replaced (Welles is nothing if not an equal-opportunity hater) is an experience from front to back, often funny, always bitter—visionary even forty years after its conception.

[Read original review]




8. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
All sorts of ebullient and ecstatic: drunk with the untapped possibilities of the animated medium and the whole wacky spectrum of comic-book history, Spider-Verse is the best superhero movie in quite some time and hopefully the beginning of a long and fruitful animated wing of Sony's Spider-Man properties.

[Read original review]





9. The Death of Stalin
The craven power struggle following Stalin's death made in the image of In the Loop. Western countries have a habit of outsourcing the violence of our political systems to hidden corners and faraway countries, so there's something especially striking about the way that this movie infuses the very English idioms of high-class political plotting with all the violence that usually gets diverted into inner cities and Middle-Eastern realms. Frequently hilarious, if you can muster laughs among all the creeping horror.

[Read original review]



10. Leave No Trace
For a film with very few spoken words, Debra Granik's first film in nearly a decade (since 2010's Winter's Bone) is a surprisingly striking dialogue: between generations, between personalities, between worldviews. We cannot trust the modern world; but also, we must.

[Read original review]






Appendix: Miscellaneous Movies Also Worth Noting

Documentary Corner Award: Minding the Gap—This was a strong year for documentaries of all stripes, from mainstream fare like Won't You Be My Neighbor? and Three Identical Strangers to more off-beat stuff like Shirkers. But the one that stuck with me the most was this gutting coming-of-age documentary about a bunch of skater punks growing up.

Foreign Film Corner: The Guilty—I didn't get a chance to see as much non-English-language cinema as I'd have liked this year, but I saw a few, most of them good. People are going nuts about Lucrecia Martel's Zama, which is very good, but I won't lie to y'all: I liked this mean little Danish thriller better. The whole thing takes place in an emergency call center; it's a deconstruction of the stiff-lipped, rogue male hero archetype. I mean, what more do you need?

Best Musical Sequence: The Ballad of Buster Scruggs—Move right on over, A Star Is Born! The opening segment of Joel and Ethan Coen's western anthology film, wherein Tim Blake Nelson's titular outlaw sings and shoots his way through a frontier town, is one of the best and funniest pieces of cinema sent our way this year. The rest of the movie is good, too, but this is on a whole other level.

Best Cinematography: Roma—Alfonso Cuarón's black-and-white evocation of 1970s Mexico City has basically no competition for this award. Say what you will about the plot and characters, but my eyeballs were practically singing the entire film.

Best Superhero Action: Incredibles 2—For a genre often premised on its promise of impossible action sequences, superhero movies don't always take advantage of the full spectrum of what having super-powered superhumans means for the crafting of an action sequence. Say what you will about the narrative flaws of Incredibles 2, but it absolutely doesn't skim on the inventive superhero action, each character's powers utilized to maximum creativity in choreography in every one of the setpieces. Take notes, Marvel!

Best Job Sneaking Some Supremely Weird Material into Mainstream Multiplex Entertainment: Annihilation—Alex Garland's follow-up to the great Ex Machina is a deeply flawed riff on Tarkovsky's Stalker, but between the "bear" scene and THAT ending, it's hard to be too irritated at the movie's shortcomings. Would that all our existential nightmares looked so visionary as this film's final fifteen minutes.

Best Homeschooling: Little Women—I've become weirdly obsessed with how well this movie captures the sensibilities of a certain corner of the homeschooling world. Help.

"It Would Be Nice If This Were Trend-Setting" Award: Game Night—A tightly scripted, visually interesting American studio comedy? What is this, 1945?

Worst Time at the Movies Award: Eighth Grade—I feel like people have undersold just how hard to watch this movie is. Don't get me wrong: it's a fantastic film. But you'll forgive me for not calling 94 minutes of being forcibly reminded of the worst time of my life and some of the deeply scarring insecurities I emerged from it with an enjoyable experience.

Best Villain: Black Panther—A hero is only ever as compelling as his villain, and Killmonger, the charismatic, Michael-B.-Jordan-played foil to the titular hero, is pulling double time in making this movie work. The MCU has been doing pretty well in its villain game recently, but even then, Killmonger is on a whole different level, wielding a pathos and a political edge stronger than any of the weapons brandished by Marvel's arsenal of fighters. Without this guy standing as counterweight, T'Challa and Wakanda as a whole barely register.

Best Scenery: Crazy Rich Asians—That's "mise en scène" for all us film dweeb losers. But anyway, I wasn't super hot on this movie as a whole, but I think my jaw was always just kind of hanging open at how incredible the movie's sets and locations were. Crazy and rich indeed.

Most Prophetic Movie for Me Personally (Probably): Tully—Remember Tully, everyone? No? Well, it was a good movie. People seem to have forgotten it, but it was good. Pretty good depiction of parenthood, too—or, at least, I presume so. I guess my wife and I will find out here in a couple of weeks when our first child is born.

Most Misleading Title: The Endless—It did end, after about two hours.

Least Misleading Title: Did You Wonder Who Fired the Gun?—Yeah I did, as a matter of fact.

"Is the Disney Ride Over Yet? I'm Ready to Get Off" Award: Solo: A Star Wars Story—A surprisingly crowded field this year. But I've got to give it to this boy, probably the most tired piece of filmmaking Disney has allowed into one of flagship cash-cow film brands in at least a few years, in addition to being a completely pointless and cynical cash-in on fandom nostalgia. Now if only these God-forsaken live-action remakes can tank as hard at the box office as this one; Aladdin, I'm counting on you.

"I Don't Really Have an Award, but You Guys Should Check This Movie Out" Award: A Simple Favor—Some of the most effortless, effervescent fun I had at the movies all year.

Scariest Dance Studio: Suspiria—Only barely edging out Madeline's Madeline. Hail 2018, year of the weirdly frightening avant-garde dance sequences!

Most Unexpected Satire: God's Not Dead: A Light in Darkness—This is not good; I repeat, not good. But it is bizarrely aggressive in the ways that it undermines its predecessors. A Light in Darkness : God's Not Dead 1 & 2 :: Verhoeven's Starship Troopers : Heinlein's Starship Troopers.

Biggest Surprise: A Star Is Born—Was confident that this was going to be incurably boring and stodgy. It turned out to be great.

Biggest Disappointment: Mandy—I'm still waiting for my Progressive Rock Fantasia, and I thought this might be the closest thing to it yet. Alas, what we got was not nearly so interesting. Even putting aside the metric of Progtasia hype, this is so tiringly terrestrial compared to Cosmatos's previous feature, Beyond the Black Rainbow.

Best Non-2018 Movie I Saw For the First Time in 2018: Phantom Thread—I feel like I'm cheating putting this movie here, given that I saw it not even a month into 2018 and the movie had a late-2017 release, and if I was giving a more conventional answer for this category, I guess I'd go with Jonathan Glazer's gorgeous, ominous Birth. But back to my actual answer: a breathtaking, genre-fluid study of rich character foils? A weirdly tender love story wrapped in a (by the end literally) mortal struggle for sexual power? A covert ghost story? A sumptuous Jonny Greenwood score? Poison mushrooms??? It honestly might finally be Paul Thomas Anderson besting There Will Be Blood, so how could this not be the best movie I saw all year?

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Mini Reviews for December 17-23, 2018

2018 catch-up time.

Movies

Mandy (2018)
I'm far from the first to observe that there is a prog half of this film and a metal half, and given that I have a whole section of my blog devoted to progressive rock, there's no surprise which half of this movie I prefer. That said, there's definitely a version of the movie's second half that I would enjoy very much: maybe it's all just for the memes, as some people have insinuated, but a movie in which Nicolas Cage gives a performance of loony Face/Off-style intensity while going on a cartoonishly violent rampage to kill lizard-people cultists sounds like a good time and a half to me. But here, being only half the movie, it feels somewhat cut off at the knees, and besides, juxtaposed with the far trippier, wilder first half of the movie, it feels like a disappointingly ordinary way to finish a film that opens with a bravura credits sequence set to King Crimson's "Starless." In fact, juxtaposed with director Panos Cosmatos's previous feature, Beyond the Black Rainbow, which remains one of the great cinematic sensory experiences of the 2010s, even the first half of the movie feels disappointingly ordinary. I dunno, maybe the secret to Black Rainbow was that it was impossible to track the plot; even when Mandy is going full Yes album, it's never that difficult to follow, and it just becomes clear that there's not a lot going on beyond the diluted psychedelia. Inspired in spots but unsatisfying overall. Grade: B-

Roma (2018)
As with most of Alfonso Cuarón's output, there's a sort of nagging feeling that this dude is just showing off with all the precisely choreographed long takes and immaculately blocked cinematography (this time filmed and edited not by his longtime collaborator Emmanuel Lubezki but by Cuarón himself—all the more reason to think he's simply flexing here). And the schematic screenplay, which somewhat contrivedly has grand character confessions and shocking revelations intersect at exactly the moments of highest cinematic sheen, bears this out. But honestly, I don't care one bit how artificial it feels when the results are this gorgeous. It's without a doubt the most visually stunning film I've seen all year, as well as the most pristinely constructed. And as much as the underwritten touches might undercut some of the character development, the cinematic style lifts it right back up again; those long takes tracking through crowded streets and violent tableaus become a sort of characterization of their own, crafting a grandly tragic emotional landscape nearly whole cloth from the film style alone, and as much as I can intellectually pick apart some of the decisions on paper, I didn't have much trouble getting swept up either. Grade: B+

The Green Fog (2018)
That something which, on paper, seems to amount to nothing more than an impressively-but-pointlessly difficult and theoretical archival project (recreating Hitchcock's Vertigo by stitching together footage from other films) actually adds up to a functional movie is sort of miraculous on its own. That it's not only one of the best movies of the year but also one of the funniest and also one of the most beautiful is nothing short of impossible. But here we are, with this amazing little impossible movie somehow existing and being great, having slipped in from another dimension or something. AND TO BOOT, it's got probably the best use of Michael Douglas in a decade, possibly in his whole career. Grade: A


Fahrenheit 11/9 (2018)
I don't know why Michael Moore didn't just make a full movie about the Flint water crisis, since that's far and away the best part of this scattered, shambling movie. Moore's populist fury for what has been done to his hometown remains his most compelling characteristic, and the 30 minutes that the film devotes to the whole sordid disaster is borderline great and alone probably justifies Moore's sharp turn toward actual agitprop in this film. However, the rest of the movie is this whirlwind of what feels like a survey of Daily Beast headlines from the past 2-3 years, unified under the really vague umbrellas of "Donald Trump" and "activism." Full of Moore's typical bluster and stuntery (hey, you lip-synced Adolf Hitler footage with audio of a Trump speech, you sure owned the MAGA crowd, don't know how they'll recover from that one), it's this heap of a film that just kind of flops around under its own many-tentacled weight, and it just plain doesn't work. It's viscerally upsetting because watching footage of the Stoneman Douglas shooting or Trump's threats toward protesters is viscerally upsetting just by virtue of those events having occurred at all. But as a coherent take on the modern American political landscape or even as the call to revolution that the finale so dearly wants to be, this is just ineffectual thunder. Grade: C

Food, Inc. (2008)
Normally, I would damn with faint praise by lumping this in with the rest of that tedious activistcore wave of documentaries from the mid-2000s. And... it's not like this isn't that (though it has good taste lacking in every other activist docs, in that it forgoes the obligatory ironic animated sequence). But this film's argumentation against industrial farming is particularly ruthless and cleared-eyed—impressively so. It also yields two legitimately great documentary moments. One involves a beef farmer cutting a hole in the side of a living cow and excitedly showing the camera how he can reach his hand into one of the cow's stomachs like it's the greatest thing since the microchip. The enthusiasm is infectious, both figuratively and literally (being part of a whole segment involving E. coli in meat). Errol Morris would be proud. The other, much more in-tune with the doc's overall rhetorical aims and almost without a doubt the most pointed and effective use of the film's take-no-prisoners posture, is when footage of immigrants being shoved into vans by immigration officials after raids of meat-packing plants plays over audio of an impassioned interview which tells us relentlessly that this is the real cost of our holiday hams and turkeys. It's the film's most bracing deployment of pathos, or at least it is for me eight months after a mass-scale version of that footage occurring just a county over from my house. Grade: B

Beverly Hills Cop (1984)
I mean, this is certifiably pro-cop in this really icky "ends justifying the means" way, to say nothing of the '80s trademark homophobia on display in a few key scenes (apparently the only thing more villainous than a vaguely Russian drug dealer is a vaguely Russian drug dealer who might be gay). But Eddie Murphy is extremely good in this movie—so good that he does a decent job of papering over some of the more objectionable qualities of his character. This is maybe the best Murphy performance that I've seen, and while that's not exactly saying much, given that I've seen only a handful of pre-Shrek Murphy roles, it is pretty stunning what he's doing here. Grade: C+


Vanishing Point (1971)
I'm of two minds regarding this film. Well, of many minds, actually. The film is complete and utter worship of the automobile, which my train-loving spirit objects to strongly, to say nothing of the mythologizing of the Ruggedly Individual American Male, which just sort of bores me. But also, as something of a 20th century folk tale, with all the kaleidoscopic cul-de-sacs and slippery meanings that come with the genre—I mean, is it a lionizing of the Ruggedly Individual American Male, what with that self-destructive ending and all? It's not as simple as it seems. But also, it falls handily into the fallacy of reducing the counterculture to a mere quest for Freedom, Maaaaan, wherein anti-authority sentiments are an end to themselves, which is the same kind of thinking that landed the movement at Altamont and later Ronald Reagan. So screw that. But also... maybe this movie is aware of that? But not enough to avoid casting its almost arbitrarily defiant (and of course white—they're always white, the salvific figures of these counterculture movies) protagonist as some sort of larger-than-life hero of the people? But also, the car goes vroom, and the rock music kicks, and the cinematography is brilliant. I dunno, man, I gotta lotta feelings here, and most of the time, I was feeling like I was having a good time. Grade: B

Television

Joe Pera Talks with You, Season 1 (2018)
I don't even know where this came from. Seemingly out of the clear blue sky (or, more likely, the cold, overcast sky of Michigan's Upper Peninsula) appears this beautiful little Adult Swim gem, featuring none of the aggressive weirdness that's characterized the Adult Swim brand, instead going for a quiet, contemplative wholesomeness that feels more in-line with, like, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood or The Joy of Painting—only infused with an idiosyncratic philosophic impulse and a deep well of melancholy that makes every one of its 11-minute episodes feel like something of a soft-spoken treatise on the human experience. I barely know how to describe it; what I'm saying here barely conveys the wonderfulness of Joe Pera Talks with You. When people talk about "Peak TV," they're usually referring to the explosion of ambitious content on streaming services, but honestly, this is the Peak TV I'm here for: these graceful little pockets of brilliance in the odd corners of the television landscape, both a piece of television tradition and curiously apart from it. Seriously, go watch this, folks. Grade: A

Books

The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket (2003)
The tenth book in A Series of Unfortunate Events is something of a transitional book. Being set on a relatively nondescript mountainside for its entirety, the novel lacks the inventiveness and little satirical microcosm societies that the best books in the series often develop; it's also something of an info-dump as far as the ongoing mysteries in the series go, which feels uncharacteristically inelegant for these books. But it's still that same wonderful wit as the other books, and Snicket's metafiction is both funny and interesting in the ways it's developed here. The payoff to all the ethical questions of the previous few books feels earned, too. Grade: B



Music

Noname - Room 25 (2018)
Chicago rapper's sophomore effort (or debut, if we're counting 2016's Telefone as a mixtape instead of an album, which... is confusing, but okay) is jazzy in production and quietly profound in its exploration of both the personal and the social. But let's take a moment just to appreciate how uproariously funny Room 25 is: "My pussy teaches 9th-grade English/My pussy wrote a thesis on colonialism" is maybe the funniest lyric in any music anywhere this year. Grade: A-

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Mini-Reviews for March 5 - 11, 2018

SPRING BREEEEEAAAAAAAAAKK.

Movies


Black Panther (2018)
Typical of the Marvel-Disney mold, Black Panther is positioned to feel more political than it is. The movie's relationship to real-world politics is slippery at best (Michael B. Jordan's radically positioned villain uses colonialist tactics, Chadwick Boseman's heroic Black Panther is a nationalist and an autocrat at that, and most bafflingly, the CIA is represented by a lovably bumbling sidekick), and its narrative is unusually (for an MCU film) lopsided in favor of its charismatic villain. But putting the specifics aside, at the film's heart is an intensely sincere dialogue about a nation's relationship to the world at large that feels in some ways like the other side of the coin that Thor: Ragnarok flipped when it questioned Asgard's use of military conquest to achieve its might (and Black Panther's interrogation of this topic is much less tossed-off than Ragnarok's was), and the resolution of that thematic thread is as graceful a note a Marvel film has ended on as last year's moving Guardians of the Galaxy finale. Bolstered by this thematic ambition, the rest of the movie has a weight that your typical Marvel film—usually feather-light affairs—lacks. Even though we don't see much of Wakanda (for a movie that stresses how urban and futurist the nation is, we really don't get much beyond the rustic settings for the film's action setpieces and the token science lab), this is a place that the film successfully inspires us to care deeply about, and when Killmonger talks wistfully about the Wakandan sunsets, it's legitimately poignant, laden with a generation of idealism and longing that does more to make Wakanda real than all the mid-tier CGI this movie can muster. Honestly, Black Panther belongs to Jordan's Killmonger, who is perhaps the best MCU character since Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark and the true beating heart of the film. The movie's not perfect, but Killmonger is. Grade: B+


God's Not Dead 2 (2016)
I'm not too proud to admit that I hate-watched this. Unfortunately for the cause of hate-watching, there's slightly less to hate in the sequel than there was in the original, as this movie doesn't involve atheists being straight-up murdered by God. However, the dead-eyed acting and nonsensical Evangelical celebrity cameos (we're spared the Duck Dynasty crew save a very brief Sadie Robertson, though the Newsboys are still there to save the day with bad music and corporate prayer, and otherwise, Lee Strobel shows up, as does Mr. Awful himself, aka Pat Boone) persist, as does the insipid anti-education worldview. And then there's the franchise-staple strawman arguments, best exemplified by the film's own credits, which claim that the events of this movie are based on real court cases, but if you actually pause the credits to read the descriptions of the court cases, as you know your intrepid reviewer did in due diligence, you'll find that almost every one of these real-life cases involved instances of actual proselytizing by teachers or students within a public school setting and not the benign case this movie centers on, which is about the ACLU suing a Poor, Innocent history teacher for answering in class that yes, Martin Luther King, Jr., was inspired by the teachings of Jesus (and while I'm at it, can we please for a moment recognize how this movie full of white Protestants invokes "Letter from Birmingham Jail," seemingly ignorant that the letter is largely written in critique of white Protestants, and like, I can't even, guys, please, what is wrong with these peopleeeeee *wraith-like screaming while clawing my own eyes out*). It's about as terrible as you can imagine, but even so, I was prepared to give the film a D+ based entirely on Ray Wise's delightful, campy performance as the ACLU lawyer from hell. But then I saw how one of the protesters in the film got the Dark Side of the Moon album cover wrong on her sign, and that's just a bridge too far. Grade: D-


The Forbidden Room (2015)
My first Guy Maddin. On a moment-by-moment basis, Maddin/Evan Johnson's early cinema pastiche by way of heavy postmodernism and digital (?) blurring and manipulation (the effect is largely that the film stock is, at any moment, about to warp and melt, Persona-style) creates a constant barrage of indelible and otherworldly imagery that feels like silent cinema beamed from a distant galaxy. But on a whole-movie level... well, there's a lot of movie here. I'm not talking about its runtime (although two hours does seem to be pushing it) as much as I am the nauseating feeling of consuming all of these images at once. It's a lot to take in, and I found my brain shutting down more often than not at the sheer incomprehensible barrage of it all. Maybe that's a feature instead of a bug, though? Grade: B


From Afar (Desde allá) (2015)
From Afar is a sufficiently "edgy" movie, though to describe exactly the ways it is so spoils a crucial and surprising plot point from very near the film's end. But edge doesn't really do a lot for me if it isn't pointed at something in particular, and that's, as far as I can tell, pretty much what's going on in this movie. It's an interesting movie and one that's shocking and nervy in a way that you probably wouldn't guess from the plot synopsis (a lot of critics have called this a "romance," and I suppose that's true, though not at all in any of the cinematic ways you might assume). But it also feels like a narrative exercise in making a particular sort of manipulation work, and for me, it doesn't quite. Grade: B-



Victoria (2015)
Doing a thriller in one take (i.e. the primary reason to see Victoria) is an interesting experiment because of the way it calls attention to the parts of a narrative than an edit can hide—the length of time it takes a character to walk from one side of the room to the other, for example, or just how much time these characters spend in transit between official locations. That is, admittedly, a pretty academic way to view this and probably sounds not at all fun for a thriller, and honestly, this movie isn't a ton of fun. The one-takeness stretches out what would probably have been a very lean story into nearly 2.5 hours, and not a lot of "thrilling" thriller stuff happens until the last half hour. That said, when the thrills start, they are pretty visceral and exciting, and the ending itself is top-notch. Just prepare for a sloooow build to that. Grade: B-


Jackass Number Two (2006)
What if Jackass: The Movie, but more intense and tasteless? Unbelievably, it's actually possible. Oh yes. Lots of poop. Lots of puke. A dude intentionally pierces his cheek with a fish hook. A guy dresses up as a terrorist of unclear national origin, and another guy pretends to murder that dude's friends. So, like... mission accomplished? In all seriousness, there's a lot of behavior here—the self-flagellation, the obsession with injuring genitalia, the frequent inducing of vomit, the aforementioned terrorist "gag"—that would raise a lot of red flags in any other context, but under the guise of "boys being boys," it's just laughed off as a hilarious joke, to increasing levels of cognitive dissonance, which, as far as I'm concerned, is pretty much the definition of white, male privilege. No thanks. Grade: D-


Jackass 3D (2010)
If I'm being "objective" (whatever that means), this is probably the best of the Jackass movies. It's much more whimsical and committed to playing up the more surreal, visually engaging sides of the gang's stunt work (lots of slow-mo, lots of strange props, e.g. a gigantic, spring-loaded hand that slaps anyone unfortunate to walk down a particular hallway). But I don't feel like being objective. I watched three of these movies in two days, and I'm tired. Grade: C-