Mini Reviews for January 11 - 17, 2021

 Finally finished that Czech New Wave set.

Movies

Tenet (2020)
The idea of Christopher Nolan doing a time-travel heist movie based around some characters moving forward in time and others moving backwards in time feels like a director perfectly suiting a project to his strengths: lots of puzzle-y logistical games, very little by way of emotional engagement. And by the end, there are parts of Tenet that fulfill that promise, though it's pretty rocky getting there. I guess I thought that everybody was exaggerating when they said that this movie is hard to follow, but I definitely was in the dark at least 60% of the time, especially in the first half, when the movie is basically wall-to-wall exposition and setting up the chess pieces. I've never found Christopher Nolan movies to be particularly difficult to follow, but as his style has gotten increasingly chaotic concurrent with his increasingly... idiosyncratic approach to sound design, I suppose it was only a matter of time before I lost the plot in one of his movies. So here I am. The good news is that the core of this movie, as far as I can tell, is basically magical nonsense anyway (what does it even mean to "reverse the entropy" of an object, as if entropy is some distinct force?), so if you can power through the expository sections of the movie, it kind of doesn't matter if you didn't understand half of it, because the back nine of the film is pretty much just a sequence of action setpieces based around the undeniably cool mechanic of having some parts of these scenes progress forward in time while others progress backwards. Those parts are magnificent. They also clarify (to the extent that there is one) the emotional center of the film: an unstuck-in-time friendship between the characters played by John David Washington and Robert Pattinson. I dunno, there's a lot of noise in the movie around those good parts, and it definitely would have benefited from some streamlining (2.5 hours? Really?). But also, I have at least a little respect for how obtuse Nolan is willing to be in a nominally general-audience blockbuster, while still finding a way to be conventionally entertaining (eventually). Complexity isn't a productive end unto itself, nor is "nobody is making movies like this right now," but whatever combination of those two is in this movie is working for me. Grade: B

Possessor (2020)
A supremely, deliriously gruesome piece of cinema in which people inhabit other people's bodies in order to commit crimes. This being directed by Brandon "Son of David" Cronenberg, a lot of people have emphasized the horror elements of this movie, and those are certainly there: the idea that someone could invade your body and exploit it for their own profits (not like that would ever happen in 21st century capitalist America...) is very unsettling, and the movie's imagery complements that. But in some ways, the connections to Brandon's father's horror legacy has obscured that this is also a really terrific piece of cyberpunk sci-fi. David has spent a lot of his mid-to-late career adapting postmodern fiction for the screen; perhaps if Brandon has the same literary bent as his father, we'll get some cracking William Gibson adaptions. Grade: A-

The Girl Without Hands (La jeune fille sans mains) (2016)
Every few months it seems, I run across an animated film that looks like nothing I've ever seen before in cinema, and I wonder why I ever watch anything but animated movies. This is one of those. It has some of the most stunning animation I've ever seen, a film whose aesthetic is premised on the idea of bringing an ink wash painting to life and yet somehow transcends even that lofty goal to create a truly breathtaking array of textures from glistening ice to a rushing stream to a rippling field of grass—every individual frame a work of art in and of itself but also a work that fundamentally transforms into something wholly different in motion. It's also an unusually pure distillation of the ethos of the Brothers Grimm, whose story of the same provides the source material for this movie. The movie puts a striking feminist gloss over the story (I don't know that I've ever seen an animated movie so embodied in a female protagonist) while preserving the folk strangeness and unpredictability of experiencing an unfolding fairy tale. If you aren't here for the animation (and how could you not be???), there's certainly something here for students of fairy tales. Truly incredible stuff. Grade: A

Car Wash (1976)
There's something special about the way that this movie just stubbornly insists on never allowing its plot to expand beyond anything but a string of anecdotes. Literally just a movie about a bunch of people working in a car wash. I don't know what the screenplay (written by Joel Schumacher????) looks like on paper, but on the screen, this feels exactly like an ensemble cast just riffing for 90 minutes, and while I usually have a hard time with comedies that don't feel tightly scripted, I'd say it works here because 1. the cast is so incredibly winsome, and 2. more importantly, the aimless, only occasionally funny and sometimes even a little monotonous vibe of the movie really pointedly captures the mix of camaraderie, antagonism, boredom, and frustration that defines working a low-wage/hourly-wage kind of job like this one, right up to that quiet final scene where two characters break down because they're not sure they can take it anymore. The movie probably gets a little too cute at times in its efforts to include literally every social strata in this movie, but there's a generous spirit to even that cuteness that is rewarding and feels like an important antecedent to the kind of movies that Richard Linklater would go on to make about Austin. Anyway, it's a good time. Grade: B+

Capricious Summer (Rozmarné léto) (1968)
A bunch of horny middle-aged men come to terms with their middle-agedness as they are physically humiliated in their pursuit of a hot young woman who's come to town with the circus. I enjoy the physical humiliation parts, but overall, this feels like an unintentional experiment in making a sex comedy that is neither sexy nor funny. I've now watched four of the six movies in Criterion's Pearls of the Czech New Wave set and only enjoyed one of them fully (Daisies, for the record, because how could I not?). Beginning to think Criterion may have been overselling the movies here just a tad by calling them "pearls." Grade: C

 

The Joke (Žert) (1969)
I like Milan Kundera, so it's no surprise that a film adapting a novel of his (which I haven't read) would be my second-favorite of the Pearls of the Czech New Wave set. It's not amazing; parts of it are very slow, to a degree that I don't find entirely productive. But it had a wicked sense of irony that I really dug. I don't think I've seen a funnier riff on the futility of revenge, actually. Also, there's a grim humor in the idea that a guy who merely jokes that he is a Trotskyist would get put in a concentration camp by a communist government. Good to know that the left cannibalizing itself is nothing new, I guess. Grade: B

 

Pearls of the Deep (Perličky na dně) (1966)
After watching this whole Pearls of the Czech New Wave collection, I'm sad to report that the only director I'm really excited about of the bunch is Věra Chytilová (Daisies), and that's basically reflected in this anthology film, as Chytilová's short is the only one here I found truly great. Like, it's extremely good, the kind of short where every minute is better than the previous one until it ends on this dizzying high that lands the film in the ecstatic avant-garde that defined Daisies. Evald Schorm's short, "House of Joy," is pretty good, too, and also pretty funny, which is not something I would have expected from the director of the mostly straight-laced The Return of the Prodigal Son. The rest of the shorts did nothing for me, as is the case for the lion's share of this collection as a whole, I'm afraid. Grade: B-

Mini-Reviews for July 24 - 30, 2017

I'm beginning to think that looking for F-rated movies is a self-defeated project. Maybe one only finds an F picture when one isn't trying to find it.

Movies

Dunkirk (2017)
The structural games are fun and Nolan-y and a clever way to tell intimate stories while maintaining a sweeping scope. But ultimately, it's not a movie about the mechanistic approach to time (despite the best attempts of a tedious, obvious Hans Zimmer score that literally ticks like a clock—blerg, just go away, dude). It is, to simplify slightly, a rebuke of the exclusionary self-interest of patriotism, framed through an impressive barrage of kinetic, tense action sequences. To its great credit, Dunkirk nearly avoids Godard's old anti-war-film paradox precisely through how it handles these scenes (and there are plenty—it would not be an exaggeration to call the entire film 100% action), developing them as a series of small parables regarding the role of British identity in a time of crisis. The most British thing, Nolan argues, is selfless sacrifice in the opening of its borders to those in need. In our current political climate, that's practically radical. Grade: B+

War for the Planet of the Apes (2017)
There isn't a lot of hope in War for the Planet of the Apes, which shows humanity trapped between self-extinction and dehumanizing captivity and abuse at the hand of the apes—Woody Harrelson's Colonel, despicable as he may be, is fundamentally correct about humankind's future, which, alone, is one of the smarter and more startling touches to this already smart and startling franchise. And that's just the villains (War is the first of these new PotA movies that presents human kind as basically irredeemable). These apes, we know (provided this series follows the same trajectory as the originals) go on to create a brutally oppressive society on the foundation of Caesar's rebellion. Its grim battle scenes bear this out with as unflinching and bloody a portrayal of combat as the PG-13 rating is likely to allow, and the film's "happy" ending is further unsettled, not just for the actual events depicted but by the score of the film itself, which highlights the final shot with uneasy ambivalence. The feel-bad movie of the summer, for sure, and a vital, terrific success because of it. You'll be hard-pressed to find a movie with more brains and heart this summer's blockbuster landscape. Grade: A-

A Cure for Wellness (2017)
You likely won't see a prettier-looking movie all year, from the uh-MAZE-ing cinematography to the neat way that the set design and costuming blends modern society with a lush, Victorian-Gothic sensibility into a haunting timelessness. But holy Moses, this movie is demented—delightfully so for a large portion of its runtime, but by the end, culminating in a scene of sexual assault that I have severe reservations with, it's decidedly not delightful. But... I kind of love it anyway? It's rare to see a movie, even a horror movie (which Wellness most definitely is) go so all-in with artsy smut, and reservations and all, it's a singular viewing experience I'm not likely to forget soon. Grade: B+

Chef (2014)
Jon Favreau writes, directs, and stars in a gigantically cloying fantasy with wish-fulfillment ranging from the mildly implausible (starting your own restaurant and having complete creative freedom as a chef) to the downright ludicrous (hooking up with both Scarlett Johansson and Sofía Vergara, marrying the latter [twice!]). Good golly, though, the food looks amazing. So amazing that it inspired me to get up from the movie and make my own spaghetti sauce (which turned out great, btw). It's a very silly, inconsequential film, but its love for food is contagious enough that I'm not completely turned off by Favreau's obvious self-indulge. Grade: B-

In the Mood for Love (花樣年華) (2000)
To say that it's Brief Encounter wrapped first in a blanket of aching ennui before being crushed by the insurmountable uncaringness of the universe is technically accurate, but it does nothing to communicate just how gorgeous and moving every second of this film is. There's nothing surprising about one of the most acclaimed movies of the 21st century being amazing, but in case you haven't heard it enough, let me say it again: this movie is incredible. Grade: A

Stop Making Sense (1984)
In the studio, Talking Heads are inscrutable and alien, hermetically sealed within their chilly beats and existential dread. This is perhaps a consequence of their very late-'70s/early-'80s production or maybe an intentional choice of aesthetic, but regardless, it's a vital aspect of the band's sonic identity, and I regard it very much as a feature, not a bug, of the band. Which is why it's such a shock to discover that onstage, Talking Heads became an honest-to-goodness, heart-in-the-gut rock band without compromising a modicum of their essential character. Would you have guessed that the band that gave us "Houses in Motion" could break a sweat? Well, they can; in fact, the band practically spends the entire set drenched in perspiration. It's a fantastic feat of both the band's formidable, go-for-broke musicianship and Jonathan Demme's shadowy, evocative filmmaking that the band becomes as immediate as it does without sacrificing the cock-eyed existentialism that makes their music so compelling. And not to downplay any of the many, many talented individuals that make this film one of rock's greatest visual documents, but the protagonist here is unquestionably David Byrne, who thrashes about the stage like a human in exuberant agony at the realization that he doesn't know what it means to act human. From his herky-jerky dances was born a generation of Thom Yorkes and Annie Clarks; within Demme's frame, the strange geometry of this brilliant man is mesmerizing. Grade: A

Music

Brockhampton - Saturation (2017)
It's hard not to hear an album with a heavy, industrial feel and not jump immediately to the twin standards of heavy, industrial hip-hop, Death Grips and Yeezus, and while that comparison isn't entirely unwarranted (these beats are heavy—just listen to the opening "Heat," which is appropriately hot), the album's more surprising textures come on tracks like "2Pac" and "Swim," which abruptly pivot toward R&B and even soft rock. This brand of abrasive, experimental hip-hop tends to be a bit monochromatic, but Saturation is a cornucopia of sounds that paint the album's themes of self-doubt and coming-of-age with an egalitarian approach to genre. Plus, it's cool to see a hip-hop collective in 2017, as dominated by monolithic figures as the industry is. Grade: B+

Miles Davis - Sorcerer (1967)
On the brink of diving deeply into the jazz-fusion avant-garde, Miles Davis released Sorcerer, in many ways a summation of his '60s quintet work up to that point. There are peppy hard-bop numbers ("The Sorcerer"), smokey modal compositions ("Pee Wee," on which Miles doesn't appear at all), and even a vocal piece closing out the album ("Nothing Like You"). It's almost more of a Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter album than a Davis one, as they contribute five of the seven tracks, and as such, it's appropriately sax- and piano-heavy. In 1967, Davis had bigger things on his mind, and he only had one more fully acoustic album left in him before his electric period; one gets the impression that he was a little tired of this mode at this point, given his lack of involvement with the album's composition. So Sorcerer isn't "essential" in any sense of the word. But it's still very good and a fantastic document of jazz's left-of-center in the mid-'60s. Grade: B+