It is canon that we take our time compiling each year's Best-of list, as titles trickle in from their exclusive December openings in the big cities. Here, to keep you in suspense, are the 2022 releases that are in the running, so far, for best film, having earned a B+ or better:
30 December 2022
27 December 2022
Christmas Blues
It was a bust at the box office this Christmas. The offerings were so bad that we just skipped our most cherished tradition -- The Annual Christmas Day Mainstream Movie outing, which goes back to 2004 and has skipped only two other years (2005 and 2020).
The problem: The movies in theaters either looked bad, depressing or way too long. Epic Hollywood fail. Some options among the new mainstream releases:
- "Avatar" - Not suitable for a group outing; more of an individual viewing choice. Three hours and 12 minutes. I had no interest in this or the first "Avatar." Hectic.
- "Babylon" - A literal shit-show. Not suitable for a holiday gathering. More than three hours long. Damien Chazelle is on thin ice already.
- "The Whale" - Mixed reviews. Looks incredibly depressing. (An "abject wallow through a mire of maudlin clichés about trauma and redemption," per Slate.) Brendan Fraser? Darren Aronofsky ("The Wrestler," '08), ugh, already.
- "Whitney Houston: I Wanna Dance With Somebody" - Biopic. Another downer (junkie dies in bathtub). From the writer of the ridiculous "Bohemian Rhapsody." Lip-syncing. Produced by Clive Davis, her exploiter. Two and a half hours long.
- "Violent Night" - Er, no.
- "The Menu" - Saw it.
- "Puss in Boots" - A cartoon for children.
- "The Fabelmans" - Two and a half hours of Spielberg.
Life is short. We stayed in and watched "Glass Onion," the "Knives Out" sequel.
For the record, here is our list from previous years, in order of preference:
1. Up in the Air (2009)
2. Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004)
3. Dreamgirls (2006)
4. Charlie Wilson's War (2007)
5. Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (2020)
6. Little Women (2019)
7. The Fighter (2010)
8. Licorice Pizza (2021)
9. American Hustle (2013)
10. The Shape of Water (2017)
11. La La Land (2016)
12. The Wrestler (2008)
13. Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)
14. Young Adult (2011)
15. This Is 40 (2012)
16. Holmes & Watson (2018)
17. Into the Woods (2014)
BONUS TRACK
Our title track, from Willie Nelson:
23 December 2022
Doc Watch: Me and My Ego
STUTZ (B) - I'm not sure if this is a bold experiment in cinema or a self-indulgent waste of pixels. In which the actor Jonah Hill makes a documentary about his therapist -- because the therapist does have some fascinating methods -- but can't help drag us into his own hangups about growing up as a fatty.
Luckily ol' Dr. Stutz is an engaging subject, with some interesting ideas about coping with human existence, so this isn't just a Millennial pity party. Stutz subscribes to the theory of positive-thinking and stick-to-it-iveness (a lot of pushing through problems), and his tactics get a good workout here. Particularly effective are his crude drawings that help him communicate his ideas to his patients. It's a visual element that carries the film.
The structure here -- meticulously rendered in black-and-white -- is mega-meta. Hill repeatedly remarks on his filmmaking decisions as he goes, notably abandoning the fiction he had been trying to create, that this was going to be put forth as one 90-minute therapy session. At times, this dyspeptic presentation helps illustrate Hill's jangled state of mind (he seems genuinely at a career crossroads as he approaches 40, after quite a run of success), and it opens things up to Stutz's theorizing and focused analysis. Hill's production decisions make him seem more honest.
Both men invite us into their childhoods -- the doctor had a brother who died young, and Hill, a famously fat boy, lost his brother as an adult -- and they display a healthy mutual affection rarely seen among American men. (Stutz's own struggles with Parkinson's disease deepen the bonds here.) Hill needn't bring his mom into the room, but he does, and the scene goes nowhere. But the clutter is a minor distraction, because the meat of the matter is Stutz's body of work, and that is often fascinating. If we have to indulge Hill to get there, there are worse actors to be stuck spending time with.
SR. (B+) - And then there's Robert Downey Jr., whom we expect to be an egomaniac. Here, he documents the final days of the life of his father, the onetime avant-garde bad boy of the American New Wave. Both Downey Jr.'s smiling mug shot and a tearful interlude are in the trailer, so we know going in that this will be as much about him as it is the old man. Once again, the old guy saves the day.
I never got to see my father grow old, never had the chance to be his equal as an adult or get him to open up about his life. That is the gift of "Sr.," which pays homage to the elder Downey's quirky film career and allows the old man wide berth here to flash his directing (and editing) skills one last time. What a precious opportunity to document that final narrative arc, and if it is pampered celebrities engaging in the indulgence ... well, they're the ones who can afford the cameras and the crews to pull it off.
"Sr." is surprisingly down-to-earth. In the end, these two former drug fiends have descended back to Earth -- Sr. has Parkinson's, and Jr. has settled down with an ordinary family structure (wife and adolescent son and daughter) -- and the men's story is relatable on a basic emotional level. Both men have those bedroom eyes, and personality to burn, so this is about as fun as a final tribute can get. Downey Jr. brings in a couple of old dogs -- Alan Arkin and Norman Lear -- to vouch for the father's bonafides.
Not surprisingly, each man's long-term drug addictions get arm's-length treatment (almost reverence), and, like Hill in "Stutz," Downey Jr. has time to check in with his therapist for some coaching. Downey Jr. has fun with the format -- he shoots in classy black-and-white and interrupts the proceedings frequently to spitball ideas with the old man. Also like in "Stutz," there are many meta moments, as Downey Jr., the consummate Gen Xer, can't help but approach this whole endeavor with a firm ironic detachment. It is heartwarming, then, in the end, when he pulls off an effective study of a father (and the man's droll, absurdist films) working with his son to reconcile a complicated past, a wrenching present, and an uncertain future.
BONUS TRACKS
From "Sr.'s" emotional climax, a Cat Stevens deep track, "On the Road to Find Out":
And over the film's final credits, the Dose with "Gone":
22 December 2022
New to the Queue
In a world ...
The latest from the subversive Iranian master Jafar Panahi ("Jafar Panahi's Taxi"), "No Bears."
A documentary explores a contested graduate-student study of an alleged massacre of Palestinians in 1948, "Tantura."
The latest from Mia Hansen-Love ("Bergman Island," "Things to Come"), with Lea Seydoux, "One Fine Morning."
An intimate of two women who met in a concentration camp, "Nelly & Nadine."
We're wary of Sarah Polley's techniques (and yet another period piece weighted under the patriarchy), but she has a good cast (Jessie Buckley, Rooney Mara) for "Women Talking."
19 December 2022
The 'Baby Goat' Files
As we noted a year ago, we have a category of film known as "Baby Goat Movies." We define them, since 2010's "Le Quattro Volte," as "a certain type of art film -- quaint, rural, picturesque, mostly wordless, ponderous -- that will almost certainly get me mocked for liking, even among my most intellectual and erudite friends." The latest is a letdown.
EO (C+) - Last year it was a pig ("Gunda"); this year it is a lovable donkey. EO is the Zelig of farm animals, wandering aimlessly through a series of barely related vignettes under random circumstances. Most of the details likely will dissipate from your brain within hours of viewing.
He goes from a Polish circus, to a soccer game and other unmemorable venues. He seems to have memories of and flashbacks to a pretty circus gal who would kissed and caress him. These days, he's more likely to get jumped by soccer hooligans.
Legendary Polish director Jerzy Skolimowski certainly has a visual flair, though frankly it is just too showy to be effective here. His go-to move is to bathe scenes in a red glow. (The film poster is saturated in the color.) His visual flourishes are more of a distraction than a valid mode of conjuring any viable narrative.
And then, toward the end, Isabelle Huppert shows up, for no discernible purpose. Her character whines a lot to a stepson and then makes out with him. This has nothing to do with our beloved donkey. It's as if Skolimowski had the opportunity to cast Huppert and shoehorned this scene into his latest movie. At least there finally is sharp dialogue and action that doesn't involve beating an animal senseless with clubs.
"EO" never allows the viewer to gain traction with the story it is trying to tell and the point it is trying to make. These vignettes are disjointed, and in the end -- a pretty clever but horrific ending, by the way -- the final result is unsatisfying.
BONUS TRACK
Try out the trailer:
15 December 2022
Doc Watch: A as in ...
AKA DOC POMUS (2012) (A-minus) - You might not know Doc Pomus, but you know his songs -- and you know his struggles, or at least some version of them. "Save the Last Dance for Me," "This Magic Moment," "A Teenager in Love," "Viva Las Vegas," "Can't Get Used to Losing You," "Lonely Avenue." Ray Charles, Elvis Presley, the Drifters, etal. He was a songwriter's songwriter, widely admired for generations.
That resume is enough to get you a documentary. But it's the poignant personal story of Pomus -- nee Jerome Felder -- that plays out like an old Hollywood drama. He was stricken with polio as a child and used crutches as an adult until he needed a wheelchair. He wanted to be an R&B singer -- and actually had some success as a teenager, a Jewish kid from Brooklyn trafficking in a black world. But he knew he'd never make it big, and so he headed over to the famed Brill Building to take part in the explosion of songwriting in the nascent rock 'n' roll era.
What makes his songs so indelible is the mature melancholy that underlies even the poppiest of tunes. The story of "Save the Last Dance for Me" -- inspired by the experience of watching his bride dance with others at their wedding reception -- is simply heartbreaking. (Despite his ordinary looks, he managed to marry two beautiful actresses over the years.)
The only points taken off here are due to the incestuous production -- the film was produced by Pomus' daughter, Sharyn (who also appears), and relies heavily on family members (including his famous lawyer brother Raoul Felder) and ex-wives to tell the story. But there is no denying the power of Pomus' biography. He was a fascinating man. After the hits dried up when the '70s arrived, he hosted illegal poker games at his Upper West Side apartment. His health deteriorated, and he died of lung cancer in 1991 at age 65.
There also is no denying the thrill of the music, liberally sampled throughout the film. Pomus is praised by fellow songwriters like Leiber & Stoller, Hal Willner and Dr. John (Mack Rebennack); by performers such as Ben E. King, Shawn Colvin, Dion (& the Belmonts) DiMucci, Marshall Chapman and Joan Osborne; and by critics and scholars, including Peter Guralnick and Dave Marsh.
In the end, it is the songs that hold their own and stand up to this day. This is a man whose music and lyrics sounded good even coming from Andy Williams.
[The documentary, which we saw at the Santa Fe Film Festival about 10 years ago, never got a proper release. It is available, at least for now, on YouTube.]
A-HA: THE MOVIE (B-minus) - For the first half of this documentary about the 1980s Norwegian synth band A-ha, I was thinking that this was an insider story for fans only. But as I stuck with it, the movie revealed itself as an honest portrayal of three men who have struggled off and on with creative collaboration and with worldwide stardom.
"Stardom?!" you say? Wasn't A-ha merely a one-hit wonder, known for that classic video for "Take on Me"? Actually, they had a few other hits in the mid-'80s and beyond, and they have been one of the most popular touring bands -- playing to 200,000 fans at times -- for more than three decades. Their music won't make you nominate them for the Hall of Fame -- they hit my ears as an adult-contemporary Depeche Mode -- but it's not disposable Eurotrash.
The three men -- Paul Waaktaar (guitars), Magne Furuholmen (keyboards), and handsome lead singer Morten Harket -- are now grizzled but still creatively engaged, if not always with each other. The band has taken breaks over the years and solo albums have been released, but the group continues to get back together for new albums and tours. The directors, Thomas Robsahm and Aslaug Holm, spent several years digging deep into each man's personality and observing them together in the studio and in concert, and a touching picture emerges here of challenges of being pop stars. It's easy to dismiss those who complain about fame as mere divas, but here the trio come off not as whiny brats but as grumpy middle-aged men who truly struggle with the expectations to produce music and put on a great stage show every night. They each now live in different countries and know that they can tolerate each other every few years, perhaps the secret to surviving so long as a band.
The filmmakers borrow the iconic animated-sketch style of the "Take on Me" video to an annoying degree, but they mostly abandon it in the second half. It's a good call, because the gimmick would detract from the points each world-weary man makes. A slow, spare, mournful live version of "Take on Me" powers the final scene, and you realize two things -- these guys are more interesting than we thought they'd be, and that really is an irresistible song (and synthesizer riff). (And, no, we won't feature the video, which has been viewed 1.5 billion times on YouTube.)
BONUS TRACKS
"Save the Last Dance" and "Magic Moment" will endure for generations. Perhaps the ultimate Doc Pomus song is "Lonely Avenue," a hit for Ray Charles":
He wrote "Little Sister" (and "Suspicion") for Presley, which became a hit in 1961. Here is the version by Robert Plant and Rockpile at the Concert for Kampuchea:
One of Pomus' final contributions was a 1981 hit for B.B. King, "There Must Be a Better World Somewhere" (starting at 1:30):
11 December 2022
Mentoring
THE BOX (B+) - From Mexico comes this quiet affecting story of a teenager who thinks he has found the father who abandoned him long ago. It is a cautionary tale about the perils of mentoring the younger generations.
Hatzin (Hatzin Navarrete) leaves Mexico City for a small town to retrieve a box that, he is told, contains the remains of his father. But as he's getting on the bus to head back home, he spots a man on the street and is convinced that the man is his father, based on a picture he has seen.
That man, who goes by Mario (Hernan Mendoza) runs an employment service that helps staff factories, although he is scaling up to start up his own factory. Either way, he regularly exploits workers, including a young woman who eventually goes missing after speaking up for her rights. Director Lorenzo Vigas conveys volumes through sparse dialogue and dazzles with the broad vistas he splays across the screen.
Mario hires on Hatzin, and they develop an uneasy rapport. At one point, Mario seems to let on that he really is Hatzin's long-lost father, but you can't be sure that he isn't doing that merely to deceive and exploit the boy. Meantime, Hatzin -- a naif who was raised by his grandmother -- slowly becomes hardened, culminating in an unspeakable act. Like father, like son, sadly.
ROGER DODGER (2002) (A-minus) - Perhaps the cinematic equivalent of doing a line of cocaine, this black comedy features an arrogant playboy taking his teenage nephew out on the town in New York City to school the boy in the art of slaying the ladies. Of course, Roger is mostly talk and doesn't necessarily wield all the skills he brags about.
Campbell Scott is riveting as the clever, loquacious Roger, who happens to be the boy-toy of his boss, the older Joyce (Isabella Rossellini), at the advertising agency where he flashes his skills. Roger has the verbal dexterity not only of a manipulative ad man but also of the slickest hustler. The opening scene -- Roger and his colleagues, including Joyce, bantering fiercely around a restaurant table -- is a master class in dialogue writing, courtesy of Dylan Kidd, who would never recapture the magic of his feature debut as writer-director.
The secret weapon here is the nephew, Nick, also played with verbal nimbleness by Jesse Eisenberg, in his big-screen debut. Nick has never had a girlfriend, and he is looking to his uncle for some inside dope on the dating game. Roger, caught off guard at first by the unannounced visit, dives into the exercise with vigor and not a little vulgarity. Roger is a know-it-all who savors the opportunity to impart his wisdom to the next generation of cads.
They meet two women on the prowl for the evening, Sophie (Jennifer Beals) and Andrea (Elizabeth Berkley), who roll their eyes at Roger but are charmed by innocent little Nick. Both sides will score points in the battle of the sexes. Meantime, Joyce moves to dump Roger, unleashing a pandora's box of his insecurities.
While the sexual politics here can seem a bit corny to the modern sensibility, the film does not come across as dated on its 20th anniversary. It's just as entertaining as it was back then, eons ago. There is no denying the sizzle among Scott, Beals, Berkley and Eisenberg and the simmer of Rossellini. (Also, look for a very young Morena Bacarrin ("Deadpool," Showtime's "Homeland") in an early scene, batting away Roger's advances.) And Kidd's script is endlessly inventive, the one-liners sharp and believable.
You'll know from that opening scene if it's your cup of tea or whether you might want to leave this one confined to the bar scene of the gloomy past.
07 December 2022
{Chef's Kiss}
THE MENU (A-minus) - Sometimes you crave a $14 cheeseburger; some nights you need to spend $1,200 for a dining "experience." The surprise pulp movie of the year, "The Menu" is a funny evisceration of several cultural touchstones all at once -- foodies, celebrity chefs, tech bros, sex workers, fading movie stars ... and even critics. With a sharp script and a talented ensemble cast, it zings from every angle.
Ralph Fiennes is perfectly Type A as the arrogant Chef Slowik, who runs the exclusive restaurant on some tech billionaire's exclusive island. He exudes contempt and menace for the pampered customers, all the while driving his staff like cattle. This seething, self-loathing maniac will serve up a night that no one will forget. Fiennes is surrounded by some ace supporting actors, particularly Anya Taylor-Joy as, Margot, a last-minute substitute plus-one among the group of 12, and Hong Chau ("Inherent Vice") as Elsa, the placid, conniving maitre d'.
Also on hand are veterans like Janet McTeer ("Tumbleweeds"), as a snooty food critic; John Leguizamo as a preening, boastful B-movie actor; and Reed Birney ("Mass") and Judith Light (TV's "Transparent") as an exhausted older couple. It is a rich mix of character actors supporting Fiennes and his two powerful co-stars.
TV director Mark Mylod guides a sizzling script full of bright ideas from two veterans of the satirical site The Onion, Seth Reiss (also Seth Meyers' "Late Night" show) and Will Tracy (from John Oliver's "Last Week Tonight"). Their broad characterizations of the elite are tinged with truisms and deft observations about human behavior, whether it's that trio of tech bros or a smug sommelier (a delightful Peter Grosz from HBO's "Veep").
Dread fills the air almost from the start. Tyler (Nicholas Hoult) is a total fanboy of Slowik's and the restaurant, to the point of ignoring basic social cues (mainly from his date, Margot) in his vigilance in savoring every moment of this experience. Like with others, his story will take a dark turn, as Slowik gradually unveils a horror show for his guests. (At one point the men will be hunted like animals.)
The filmmakers create a heady mix of dark comedy and a level of peril that itself is a balance between satire and familiar truths that hit a little too close to home. Taylor-Joy goes toe-to-toe with Fiennes, as skeptical Margot's bravery makes the others seem like timid sheep primed for slaughter. And Chau's harrowing hostess is always there to keep the chaos on track.
"The Menu" is never less than thoroughly entertaining. You might roll your eyes at the cartoonish excess of the script at times, but if you go with the flow, you can't help but walk away satisfied.
BONUS TRACK
A hell of a teaser:
05 December 2022
Listicles
Glenn Kenny has a thoughtful analysis at Decider of the release of the once-a-decade Sight and Sound list of the best movies of all time, per hundreds of critics.
"Vertigo" and "Citizen Kane" were elbowed aside by -- wait for it -- Chantal Akerman's three-hour-plus tribute to drudgery, "Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles" (even the extended title is a chore to get through).
"Jeanne Dielman" is one of those movies you set aside an afternoon for so that you can check it off your bucket list and say that you saw it. Just watch her peel potatoes! It is not required viewing. We finally caught up to it in 2019. We gave it a C. We preferred some of Akerman's other work.
Kenny cuts to the heart of the issue: "I can see why one would vote for it, as a statement if nothing else. Akerman’s 1975 movie is an undeniably Great Film, but it’s a film that achieves its greatness by deliberately withholding the conventional components we associate with great cinema."
Here is the top 20 (with the ones we've seen bolded):
1. “Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles” (Chantal Akerman, 1975)
2. “Vertigo” (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)
3. “Citizen Kane” (Orson Welles, 1941)
4. “Tokyo Story” (Yasujiro Ozu, 1953)
5. “In the Mood for Love” (Wong Kar-wai, 2001)
6. “2001: A Space Odyssey” (Stanley Kubrick, 1968)
7. “Beau Travail” (Claire Denis, 1998)
8. “Mulholland Drive” (David Lynch, 2001)
9. “Man With a Movie Camera” (Dziga Vertov, 1929)
10. “Singin’ in the Rain” (Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly, 1951)
11. “Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans” (F.W. Murnau, 1927)
12. “The Godfather” (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972)
13. “The Rules of the Game” (Jean Renoir, 1939)
14. “Cléo From 5 to 7” (Agnès Varda, 1962)
15. “The Searchers” (John Ford, 1956)
16. “Meshes of the Afternoon” (Maya Deren and Alexander Hammid, 1943)
17. “Close-Up” (Abbas Kiarostami, 1989)
18. “Persona” (Ingmar Bergman, 1966)
19. “Apocalypse Now” (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)
20. “Seven Samurai” (Akira Kurosawa, 1954)
02 December 2022
Now and Then: Male Bonding
"The Banshees of Inisherin" reunites filmmaker Martin McDonagh with his two stars, Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell. We figured it was a good time to revisit their earlier classic, McDonagh's breakthrough, "In Bruges."
THE BANSHEES OF INISHERIN (A) - Martin McDonagh presents a fitting bookend to 2008's "In Bruges," once again penning bittersweet banter for his Irish everymen, Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson, who pick up effortlessly from where they left off 14 years earlier. Here they are longtime friends on the fictional island off the coast of Ireland (set 100 years ago) until one of them abruptly decides not to be friends anymore.
Gleeson is grumpy Colm, who fiddles around on fiddle and lives alone with his dog. Farrell is dimwitted Padraic, whose small-talk finally drives Colm to his wits' end. Padraig, who lives with his sensible sister, Siobhan (Kerry Condon) and a beloved donkey, just can't accept the breakup and pesters his pal for an explanation. Colm won't budge, and he threatens to start cutting off his fingers if Padraic won't permanently go away.
Padraic is emotionally gutted, and Farrell's facial contortions carry the drama from beginning to end. The easy humor -- McDonagh's script is packed with pristine dialogue -- slowly gives way to dark melodrama. Few can juggle the yin and yang of comedy and gory intrigue like McDonagh can. He creates an intricate, intimate world, full of colorful side characters that provide a Greek chorus.
Gleeson's solemnity is a powerful weapon, and Farrell's energy drives the narrative toward a grim anti-climax. McDonagh, working every four or five years, was good but not great with 2012's pulpy "Seven Psychopaths" and 2017's minor-key "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri." Both of those could be mannered and showy. But in "Inisherin," McDonagh creates a complex, mature story grounded in reality and tinged with absurdity. It is satisfying on every level.
IN BRUGES (2008) (A) - McDonagh splashed with this perfect tale of two Irish hitmen lying low in, of all places, the charming resort town of Bruges, Belgium. Farrell plays Ray, a wise-cracking tough nut who is racked with guilt after his first hit claims an innocent bystander.
Gleeson's Ken also feels guilty because he recruited Ray to the trade and must answer to a mean boss, Harry, played with Cockney venom by Ralph Fiennes, in a role that two decades earlier would have gone to Michael Caine. Ken and Ray bide their time awaiting orders from Harry. Ken enjoys the tourist's perspective of the precious town's historic marvels, while Ray feels trapped in hell. (Or is this purgatory?)
Ray falls for a local woman, Chloe (a fetching Clemence Poesy), who runs a scam of her own related to a movie crew that includes a racist dwarf. To describe any more of the plot would be to ruin the joy of peeling back the layers so delicately nested by McDonagh.
Ray is in a perpetual state of credulity and/or bile -- Farrell's forte -- while Ken calmly awaits his fate, "Godot"-like. Their verbal interplay crackles and zings, each to his own level of self-loathing at any given moment. When Fiennes' menacing mob boss finally appears in person, things take a dire turn. The ending is bloody but poetic. (McDonagh is suprisingly assured behind the camera.) This was an artful debut that was hard to match -- until now.
BONUS TRACK
From "In Bruges," the Dubliners with "Raglan Road":
29 November 2022
The Noir Chronicles: Double-Barreled
Let's go back to the postwar era for a pair from filmmaker Edward Dmytryk, best known for "The Caine Mutiny."
THE SNIPER (1952) (B) - Arthur Franz is weirdly jittery as a mentally ill military vet who can't help killing 20-something brunettes while hoping someone finally stops him and ends the misery. Luckily a strong supporting cast rights the ship, and director Edward Dmytryk settles into a "Naked City" verite style that stalks the streets of San Francisco.
Franz plays Edward Miller, who likes to perch on rooftops and aim his carbine at women who remind him of his mother. Adolphe Menjou steals the show as gruff Lt. Frank Kafka, in a natural performance that would be mimicked for decades on TV police procedurals. He must battle with reporters, who, by the third or fourth homicide, demand answers and whip their readership into a frenzy over the serial killings.
Miller blends in as a delivery driver for a dry cleaner. He has a creepy scene where he tries to resist a casually flirtatious woman, only to be summarily dismissed from her apartment. She'll pay for that.
Dmytryk builds suspense steadily, though the final third drags a bit. The crisp black-and-white shots of San Francisco's landmarks provide a pleasant distraction on the way to the big climax.
Spotted: Frank Faylen as a lead police inspector. He would go on a few years later to play the father on TV's "The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis."
CROSSFIRE (1947) (B) - Bobs are wild in this three-ring murder mystery starring Robert Young, Robert Ryan and Robert Mitchum. Flashbacks and conflicting memories (clouded by a lot of drinking) among decommissioned WWII soldiers provide a "Rashomon" feel as the boys try to piece together the events that led to the murder of a Jewish man in an anti-semitic rage killing.
There is little doubt who the killer is before it is made plain about halfway through. Still, the performances are solid, and some snappy banter seeps through the sometimes dense dialogue. Young is a revelation -- a real actor instead of a TV hack -- as he grounds the film's narrative as a dogged detective who gives way too much leeway to his witnesses. Mitchum is sly in a supporting role -- assisting the cops but protecting his comrades. Journeyman George Cooper is compelling in his screen debut as the sweaty GI without a good alibi after a night of boozing. And Gloria Grahame runs them all ragged as a smart-talking lady of the night.
Dmytryk toys with light and shadows in classic noir fashion. And while it can be difficult to follow all the characters during the first third, this police procedural finds its swagger. It does get a little preachy in the final reel, and it probably will catch you off-guard with its sudden, unnervingly blithe ending. But that's what you get when you cross a cop who always gets his man.
Spotted: Robert Young, of course, would be known to my generation as TV's Marcus Welby, M.D., and as a pitchman for Sanka instant coffee.
25 November 2022
In 'There There,' There Is No There There
THERE THERE (C-minus) - Maybe it's time for a reassessment, to sit back and judge whether Andrew Bujalski has been a good filmmaker all along or if we've cut him too much slack. Has he been treading water until finally producing this bland, empty treatise on relationships? Is he just another fauxteur?
Bujalski splashed 20 years ago with "Funny Ha Ha" and established his Mumblecore cred with "Mutual Appreciation," in which he also co-starred with Justin Rice in a low-key love triangle. It took him a false start and eight years to put together "Computer Chess," his masterful homage to the 1980s computer era. It was understated and keenly observed.
Since then, he managed a "quiet triumph" in 2016 with another love triangle, "Results," blessed with his first major-league cast. But he stumbled two years later with the sloppy and unfocused "Support the Girls." And now, he takes an already stale COVID gimmick -- shooting actors alone and splicing them together via the editing process -- and makes his most unimaginative and annoying movie yet, "There There," a series of six barely connected vignettes.
Here he has another strong cast, in particular TV veteran Lennie James (above) and indie hall-of-famer Lili Taylor (below), but his attempt at slicing and dicing the nuances of relationships comes off as stagey and at times tone-deaf. James and Taylor start us off with two middle-aged adults talking through the aftermath of their first night in the sack, in the harsh daylight, seguing quickly from "that was amazing" to "do we have a shot at making this work?" It's an interesting concept, and both actors are up to the challenge, but Bujalski's script has a few potholes in it, and the visual gimmick becomes too distracting.
Some may not know going in (or care) that Bujalski shot every actor separately, so that in each of the two-person stories, each actor is essentially talking to an iPhone. And the actors are blocked in ways that seem unnatural and which expand and contract distances artificially. And by the end of the movie, you'll find it absolutely bizarre that these characters are sitting in schools, restaurants or bars and yet a third person never materializes, even tangentially.
What synergy Taylor and James manage to concoct in that opening sequence will gradually dissipate as characters come and go throughout the movie. The second piece has Taylor's character riffing over coffee with her AA sponsor, in a conversation that swerves into a shaggy-dog tale about Taylor's previous AA sponsor, who believed in aliens. Believe it or not, this is the second best of the scenarios. But then the AA sponsor takes over in a parent-teacher conference complaining about the teacher allowing her teenage son to download porn while in class. This bitter, angry exchange exudes macho bunk, a sort of tribute to David Mamet or Neil Labute.
And then Bujalski drives this off a cliff. He abandons the thread of having one of the characters continue on to the next scene. Instead, we get Jason Schwartzman (looking puffy) as a lawyer on the phone to his tech-bro client, a rambling excursion into minutiae. But this is high art compared to the next scene, in which Schwartzman is visited in bed one night by his father's ghost. (I mean, really, how do you manage to waste Jason Schwartzman?)
Then, finally, James' lothario reappears for a rap session in the bar he owns with the high school teacher. The dialogue can be sexy at times, but too often -- particularly during the woman's climactic monologue -- the dialogue is over-written. You end up with a 20-something woman talking like a 45-year-old screenwriter, with hints of the worst of late-period Woody Allen.
By that point, it's clear that there isn't a great point being made. And when the camerawork is so uninspired and the visuals so flat, you realize that Bujalski has literally phoned it in. Next time you think you have a good idea, polish the script a little more. That will give you time for the latest COVID surge to subside, and you'll be able to put two actors in a room together, like a proper movie.
BONUS TRACK
Between each scene, Bujalski cleanses the palate with a musical interlude by Jon Natchez from the band War on Drugs. Natchez flashes talent on a bunch of different instruments (and in one instance found objects), producing a lovely ambience that deserves a better movie. I don't see samples online. NPR has a Tiny Desk sampling from his full band here. And here is the next best thing to the "There There" music, some of Natchez's soundtrack work for the film "Luzzu":
22 November 2022
The Female Graze
BRAINWASHED: SEX-CAMERA-POWER (B+) - This expansion of a lecture retains all the assets of a thoughtful polemic and juices it with engaging visuals to string it into a compelling narrative. Nina Menkes, an independent filmmaker for decades, began presenting her lecture around 2018 and turned it into a film release four years later.
Menkes is quite good at conveying some complex concepts, mainly through diagramming scenes from films. She goes beyond just the concerns about the "male gaze" and deepens our understanding of how filmmakers and audiences are the subjects who objectify the objects (female characters). Menkes never gets stuck in a trite academic rut.
We get numerous examples of cinematic tropes -- such as presenting women as disjointed body parts -- and we get to assess these entrenched ideas from a fresh perspective. There is invaluable insight from a host of film scholars (from the likes of UCLA and Dartmouth) and filmmakers, a refreshing mix of women who are not the same old talking heads, such as pioneering director Julie Dash ("Daughters of the Dust") and the young standout Eliza Hittman ("It Felt Like Love," "Never Rarely Sometimes Always"). Stories from the Weinstein-era trenches come from the likes of Rosanna Arquette and comic actor Charlyne Yi.
It does seem odd (even prurient at times) to indulge in so many examples of sexist filmmaking in order to make the case here, but Menkes never slips into voyeurism. She has important points to make, and she is a filmmaker who knows how to tell a compelling story.
LOVING HIGHSMITH (B-minus) - This leaden documentary tries but fails to bring to life the famous novelist, Patricia Highsmith, as it sketches her biography through her love life. It too often feels like a trudge and glosses over the personality pitfalls of a woman who grew more and more bitter and insular as she aged.
Highsmith is most known for "Strangers on a Train" (brought to the big screen by Alfred Hitchcock) and the '90s cinematic touchstone "The Talented Mr. Ripley." We're more familiar with a novel she wrote under a pen name so as to hide her homosexuality; it became Todd Haynes' touching film "Carol" a few years ago. We get clips from those movies and others as pick-me-ups, though relative newcomer Eva Vitija otherwise dons a wet blanket to slog through Highsmith's love life.
We visit with a trail of Highsmith's former lovers; she apparently left behind quite a few broken hearts on her path of devastation. (Besides being a diligent worker as a writer, she was a drinker and a smoker and eventually descended into a swamp of racism and antisemitism in her final years. That fact gets swept away with a quick line toward the end of the film.) Vitija also assembles three relatives of the author, but they seem oddly detached and fairly clueless about the subject.
It would be difficult to see this film as being perceived as inspiring to LGBT people. Highsmith isn't very fun to be around. She might have had good reason to be such a pill. But we don't have to wallow in it with her.
BONUS TRACK
The trailer for "Brainwashed":
19 November 2022
Holy Crap!* I'll Replace You With Machines
A musical interlude:
What better place to see noisemakers Melt-Banana than at the quirk-hole that is Meow Wolf in Santa Fe, N.M. The band thrashed the twee venue on Election Eve with a sonic barrage that was enhanced by computer loops providing bass and drums and other skronks.
The surviving members (did the others go deaf?) Yako Onuki (vocals) and Ichiro Agata (guitar) sustained their violent speed-punk for about an hour, which was about as much as the modest crowd could handle. Even the moshers couldn't mosh fast enough to the blitz.
Onuki had a hand-held device that looked like a smart phone with a screen that had colorful circles on it (pink, blue, yellow, green), which she apparently used to control the music samples that backed her and Agata. She waved it around like a conductor's baton, and it seemed at times as if she was wielding it like she were manipulating a theremin. Hard to say.
Agata had his own assemblage of controls for tapes/loops at his feet. At one point he made his guitar sound like a gothic pipe organ. Most of the time it just sounded like a guitar turned up to 11.
Here's a good sense of the band's technique (in 2017 in, of all places, Birmingham, Alabama):
Midway through the show Melt-Banana offered a familiar concert staple -- I had heard them do it at Lounge Ax in Chicago in the mid-1990s, when they were a full co-ed band. They offered up incredibly short bursts of songs, some lasting only a few seconds, each one followed by a quaint, perfunctory "Thank you. Our next song ..." and then launching into the next track. It was a technique that made the Minutemen seem like Yes by comparison. With her shrieks and wails throughout the night, Onuki could make Yoko Ono sound like Helen Reddy.
When she announced that they would play a cover song, I don't think anyone was prepared for the sonic assault on Devo's "Uncontrollable Urge":
There was something both comforting and exhilarating about watching these two old pals -- looking like a middle-age soccer mom and her kid brother -- body-slam a crowd for an hour.
Here is a half hour interview/concert (with a full band in 2010) from, of all places, Alabama Public Television:
* - Holy Crap is an occasional series about unique films (and now at least one concert), cutting a wide swath from brilliant to awful. Check out previous entries here.
BONUS TRACK
Our title track, and palate-cleanser, courtesy of Guided by Voices:
17 November 2022
Gluttons for Punishment
A new release, "The Menu," offers an eat-the-rich fable, set in the world of high-end gastronomy. Film critics can't help themselves with the food puns. Here's a sample platter of Gene Shalit wannabees from Metacritic, where the film, starring Ralph Fiennes, has a 71 rating.
Paste Magazine, Matthew Jackson:
"The complexity, both tonally and visually, is there to tease out the film’s black genre heart, and it’s that heart that makes The Menu a delicious and deeply filling experience that will make you beg for a second helping."
Associated Press, Jake Coyle:
"Even as The Menu teeters unevenly in its third act and things get gruesomely less appetizing, its greasy last bites succeed in capturing one common aspect of molecular gastronomy: The Menu will leave you hungry."
IndieWire, Christian Blauvelt:
"The Menu does do one thing exceptionally well: it holds your attention and makes you think for a time that any outcome is possible. That alone is something to salivate over."
Washington Post, Ann Hornaday:
"'Eat the Rich' might be a popular theme this movie season, but The Menu takes the idea to extremes that finally overpower the palate."
The Guardian goes back for seconds!
Peter Bradshaw:
"It is well-acted and well directed by Mylod with tasty side plates of droll humour."
Benjamin Lee:
"The Menu might not nail some of the more substantial courses but it’ll do as a light snack."
Empire, Siddhant Akhala:
"It’s deep-fried junk disguised as gastronomy; it may not fully satisfy, but it’ll fill a hole."
And the winner is ...
The Playlist, Charles Bramesco:
"Everything on the menu of The Menu looks good enough, but once its moldy tirade against the one percent has been fully dished out, it’s plain to see there’s not a whole lot of meat on the bone here."
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