Daniel Coyle's 1994 novel "Hardball: A Season in the Projects" was a nonfiction account of a group of Chicago businessmen, Coyle included, who volunteered to coach a little league baseball team in Cabrini-Green, Chicago's most notorious public housing project until its demolition. In telling the story of that eventful season, Coyle alternates between summaries of the team's games and the trials and tribulations of its players and coaches, both on and off the field. Coyle details the effect Cabrini and life within its treacherous high-rises has on the players who reside there, lending context to the coaches' struggles to unite, let alone field, a team that consists of children essentially residing in a war zone.
The Kekambas
I don't often condone critiquing movies based on novels by their faithfulness to the source material, but having read "Hardball" after viewing the movie multiple times, I feel that the filmmakers whiffed on the opportunity to convert an engrossing true story of urban poverty, inner city violence, and the unifying force of baseball into an edgy, engaging, and insightful movie. Instead, they resorted to timeworn cliches and formulaic plotting that resulted in a watered down version of Coyle's
novel.
Now, I understand that film adaptations of books don't need to be dutiful retreads. But, in the case of Hardball, the filmmakers made a series of missteps, and it resulted in a hackneyed tale of personal redemption via sports.
To begin, Keanu Reeves is horribly miscast as the coach, Connor O'Neill. The character in the movie is not a successful professional, but a gambling addict with a drinking problem. Reeves has never been highly regarded for his emotional range, and here, he attempts to emote with the most gratuitous and distracting hand movements I've ever seen in a movie.
Keanu Reeves, talking with his hands.
The plot: after getting in deep with a couple of nefarious bookies, O'Neill goes to the Wacker Street office of a wealthy friend to beg for the money to pay off his debts. Instead of writing a check, the friend offers O'Neill $500 a week to coach an inner city little league baseball team with him. O'Neill begrudgingly accepts, and thus becomes the head coach of the Kekambas.
The team, of course, is comprised of a ragtag group of kids whose speech is laced with PG-13 profanity, who can't catch or hit, and whose uniforms are vastly inferior to the rest of the teams for no other reason than to remind us of how bad they are. Would you be surprised that the best team in the league has the nicest uniforms, or that they have the league's best hitter, who happens to be at the plate during two crucial at-bats against the Kekembas? Bonus points if you can figure out who comes out on top in these showdowns. An attempt is made to enhance the conflict between these two teams. The opposing head coach is a cartoonish caricature of the overbearing disciplinarian who cares about nothing more than getting his trophy by repeatedly busting players on the Kekambas for petty league rule infractions, but it's so forced that no real tension is produced.
Hardball also suffers from the common underdog sports movie ailment of the team transitioning from utter ineptitude to formidability despite no apparent coaching or strategy that elevates their gameplay. The players simply becomes good because the plot requires the team to appear in the big game at the end. Does Reeves's character know anything about coaching baseball? Aside from a brief scene of him hitting routine grounders and popups to the players, he doesn't provide the team with a lick of baseball insight, advice, or tutelage. Baseball is a complicated game, but you wouldn't know it watching Hardball.
DeWayne Warren as G-Baby
Finally, Hardball's greatest misstep is its focus on the Reeves character. Although he's an established Hollywood star and commanded the largest salary of the cast, more attention needed to be paid to the kids on the team. What are their hopes and dreams? What are their home lives like? We get three perfunctory scenes showing the menace of life in the projects (the movie was filmed at the now demolished ABLA homes on Chicago's west side), but these three brief scenes are all we see of the kids' home lives. We don't get to know any of them on a personal level. The film's most affecting scenes revolve around the death and funeral of the team's youngest player, G-Baby (adorable scene-stealer DeWayne Warren), and they demonstrate how the movie's emotional core should have been centered on the struggles and triumphs of these wonderful kids instead of on the personal redemption of their foolish coach.
I'm well aware that my thoughts may come across as dubious with this disclaimer, but I do not hate Hardball. I own the movie and have watched it several times, and I'll admit that I enjoy a standard underdog sports movie as much as the next person. I enjoy the performances of the child actors, the quirky John Hawkes, the radiant Diane Lane, and G-Baby is one of my all-time favorite movie characters. I love the idea of the pitcher who finds his rhythm through Notorious B.I.G.'s "Big Poppa." Hardball could have been so much more, and whether it's the fault of studio heads, the director, or both, this movie had the chance to transcend its genre instead of being another run-of-the-mill offering.
It's been 15 years since Hardball's release; maybe a remake is in order. If this pipe dream of mine were to come to fruition, I hope whoever decides to tackle it doesn't -- pardon the sports axiom -- drop the ball.
"Here's to my big brother George, the richest man in town." So says Harry Bailey as the town of Bedford Falls comes to the rescue of his brother, George, who faces a financial crisis just before Christmas. Harry's toast reflects the message left for George by the angel Clarence: "No man is a failure who has friends."
I loathed It's a Wonderful Life as child, probably for no other reason than it was in black and white and therefore must be boring. I've since grown up, and for me, no other movie captures the meaning of Christmas as well as this classic from Frank Capra. Much like George Bailey, many of us have experienced the frustration of life getting in the way of plans for the future, and many have been through times when life, if even for moment, appeared hopeless. But, as George discovers, there's nothing more rewarding than the love of your family and friends. And if you treat your friends like family, you'll never be at a loss for one.
2. A Christmas Story
Perhaps I'm partial to it because of its Northwest Indiana setting, or because I'm in the minority of people who can genuinely laugh when the old man reads the newspaper article about the clodhopper from Griffith swallowing a yo-yo, but A Christmas Story's status as a holiday classic is by now well established. A box office flop that gained in popularity after being released on video, it's easy to see why A Christmas Story is beloved by so many and plays as a 24 hour marathon on TBS every December 25th. The childhood anticipation for Christmas is clearly felt through the experiences of Ralphie Parker as he pines for a Red Rider BB gun, pays a visit to the world's worst mall Santa, and deals with the town bully, Scut Farkas.
Everything about A Christmas Story feels authentic and true to growing up in an ordinary Midwestern town. The father is stern but loving, the mother is a fountain of warmth and comfort, and everyone in the family finds joy in the little things, whether it be Little Orphan Annie on the radio or a prized leg lamp that will forever be a part of movie lore. The movie is worth watching if only for the leg lamp and Chinese restaurant scenes. Regardless of your age, A Christmas Story is sure to remind you of why you love
Christmas and that your family is what makes it special.
3. The Muppet Christmas Carol
This imaginative take on the Charles Dickens classic is a family favorite for a reason. The inclusion of the Muppets in the proceedings takes some of the dark edge off the story and lends genuine laughs to a story whose movie adaptations are usually devoid of humor. It's a welcome counterpoint to the dark and sobering adventure of Ebenezer Scrooge on an eventful Christmas Eve as he revisits some of the most heartbreaking moments of his past.
That's not to say the movie doesn't pack an emotional punch; the scene of Belle singing "When Love is Gone" is devastating, punctuated by Scrooge weeping in his bed after being returned home from the memory. But this is a light, funny, and accessible version of a timeless classic, and the character of Scrooge has never been played better than it was by Michael Caine.
4. Scrooge
I watched this version of A Christmas Carol so many times when I was a child that my parents still refuse to watch it. Once my mom's favorite Christmas movie, my year-round obsession with it had the effect on my mom of vomiting after eating a favorite meal. The thought of giving it another chance just makes her nauseous. Watching this lesser known take on Charles Dickens' story now, I can't explain what drove my overwhelming affinity for it, but it does still hold a special place in my heart.
Despite Scrooge being a musical, Albert Finney, who played the title role, is a terrible singer. Most of the musical numbers are cringeworthy, none more so than the song "Thank You Very Much." The song is performed by the townsfolk with great jubilation as Scrooge, accompanied by the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, witnesses his coffin being delivered through the streets of London on its way to the cemetery. So celebratory is the occasion that several citizens take to dancing on Scrooge's coffin. It's made all the more morbid by Scrooge singing along, oblivious to the fact that it's his body in the coffin.
For all of its flaws, Scrooge is a dark and ambitious take on the source novel. There are two haunting scenes that I've not seen included in any other movie version of the story. The first is of Scrooge and Marley flying through the night sky, surrounded by hundreds of tortured spirits. The second is Scrooge's visit to Hell that ends with him being chained up in an icy rendition of his office.
5. Love Actually
A part of me feels guilty for including this popular British rom-com on my list. It's by no means a secular Christmas movie, as it's replete with profanity and sex with a dash of infidelity. But aside from one particularly sad storyline, Love Actually is an unabashed celebration of the pursuit of love. Set in London in the weeks leading up to Christmas, the movie follows a motley assortment of Brits seeking significant others or vying to overcome difficulties in their love life. There's the young man who hopelessly and silently pines for his best friend's wife, the adorable little boy who takes up drumming to impress his crush after his mom passes away, the new prime minister who falls in love with his catering manager on his first day in office, and the aging rock star who realizes the most important person in his life is his chubby, underappreciated manager.
Love Actually's cast features some of Britain's finest actors, including Hugh Grant, Bill Nighy (stealing every scene he's in), Emma Thompson, and the late Alan Rickman. The movie runs a bit long and has a couple storylines that easily could have been scrapped, but this is a heartwarming, hilarious go-to at Christmastime.
The Reader, based on the novel by Bernhard Schlink, is a human tragedy played out in the shadows of humanity's greatest atrocity.
Set in Germany soon after the end of the Holocaust, the movie opens with teenager Michael Berg (David Kross) stumbling through the rainy streets of his hometown, delirious with scarlet fever. After vomiting in the street, he is cleaned up and sent home by Hanna, a local woman returning from work. After several months of bed rest, he returns to Hanna's apartment to thank her, and she wastes little time before making love to him.
Michael will spend many more days with Hanna during the course of the summer, racing home from school to her bed. What begins as a strictly physical relationship morphs into something more, as Hanna begins to require Michael to read to her before they make love. This development doesn't seem significant at first but is of enormous importance later in the movie.
What do we make of Hanna? Here is a confident, focused, beautiful woman whose every movement is assured and precise. Yet she's given to fits of anger and volatility that seem to erupt from a deep well of wounds and hastily repressed memories. It is apparent that there is no one else in her life. Kate Winslet is remarkable in this Oscar-winning role, giving what could have been a caricature a tremendous amount of depth and making Hanna an unforgettable character.
The two spend the rest of the summer in bed. It is a blissful time for both Michael and Hannah, though Michael's euphoria seems born of the sex while Hanna's derives from Michael's reading to her. Then, without notice, Hanna disappears.
Michael is leveled by her leaving, and as the movie flashes forward to the present, we see that Michael (played now by Ralph Fiennes) never recovered from the emotional toll of the relationship's sudden end. Now a lawyer, Michael is polite yet detached from the world around him. He admits as much to his daughter from a failed marriage, telling her he is not open with anyone, including her. We learn that Michael didn't return to his hometown for many years, not even for his father's funeral. Everything is a reminder of Hanna. It wasn't just Hanna's disappearing that burdens Michael, but also the guilt associated with a crucial decision he made the next time he saw her.
When we see Michael again, he is a promising law student taking a seminar focused on German guilt in relation to the Holocaust. His professor, played by famed German actor Bruno Ganz, centers the course on the nearby trial of several women who served as Nazi guards at Auschwitz and led a death march of women and children that ended in all of the prisoners, save for a mother and daughter, burning alive in a church after a bombing raid. Despite the screams of the prisoners, the guards refused to unlock the door and allow them the chance to escape.
Michael and the rest of the class attend the trial, and he hears a familiar name during the roll call of the defendants. He looks up to see Hanna. As the trial progresses and Hanna's involvement in the deaths of thousands is made clear, Michael is thrown into an emotional turmoil. Here is a woman with whom he shared the most intimate of experiences, who left with no explanation, and who is now on trial for her role in the Holocaust. Winslet is a marvel in the courtroom scenes. She answers every question truthfully and readily admits her involvement, and she is so genuine that it's not impossible to empathize with her.
When the judge attacks Hanna after she admits to sending women and children to another camp where she knew they would be killed, she immediately asks him what he would have done. His inability to answer answer begs the question, what would any of us have done? Hanna, exasperated, says she was just following orders. She was doing as she was told.
It's easy to level judgement on her and everyone else who worked the camps, but consider that the rest of the country knew what was happening and did nothing to stop it. How far does the guilt extend? There were many monsters in the Nazi ranks, but most Germans were decent, law-abiding citizens with values and morals. Are they just as responsible for the deaths of millions as those in the Nazi army? These are questions the movie takes seriously, and we see the conflict raging inside Michael as he tries to reconcile Hanna the lover with Hanna the war criminal.
It all comes to a head when Hanna's fellow defendants accuse her of composing a report that stated they knowingly kept the prisoners locked in the church. It is clear the charge isn't true, but when the judge asks Hanna for a sample of her handwriting to match to the report, she inexplicably refuses and accepts responsibility for the report, sealing her fate. Michael is baffled, but quickly ascertains the secret of which Hannah is so ashamed. She is illiterate. Michael is torn over what to do with this knowledge. If he presents it to the court, he might affect the sentencing of a war criminal. He consults his professor, who tells him he has a moral obligation to present it. Michael decides to speak with Hanna to convince her to save herself, and although he makes it as far as the prison, he decides to turn back and withhold the information. Much like the generation before him, he says nothing. And, like the generation before him, he is ravaged by the guilt of his inaction.
The Reader stirred several debates upon its release in 2008. Some thought there was too much focus on the sex scenes, while others argued that the movie equates the shame of illiteracy with Holocaust guilt. The sex scenes are certainly graphic, but they aren't meant to titillate. It's what Michael and Hanna's relationship consists of, and Hanna uses it as a means to be read to. It's fair to wonder why she so desires to be read to, and the movie never tries to explain it. Maybe the stories allow her an escape from her memories. We all have things we love, and we all have secrets of which we are ashamed.
As for equating the shame of illiteracy with Holocaust guilt, that is not what the movie does. It does appear at times than Hanna feels more ashamed of her illiteracy than she does guilty for role at Auschwitz, but that doesn't mean it's the stance of the movie. When Michael does confront Hanna many years later about her involvement, she explains that there's no sense dwelling on it because "the dead will still be dead." However, her illiteracy remained a part of her life, an ailment she could not overcome. The movie doesn't make excuses for Hanna, and it doesn't make any attempts to tell us how we should feel about her. It is why the character is so memorable and effective.
The Reader is a devastating, challenging movie that asks questions I'm not sure have answers. Roger Ebert described movies as "empathy machines." After watching The Reader, you might be surprised at what, and who, you are capable of empathizing with.
Note: The music for The Reader was composed by Nico Muhly, and it is one of the most effective, heartbreaking scores I have heard.
Five minutes into Suicide
Squad, I wanted to jump up and ask the projectionist to start it over from
the beginning. Flashbacks meant to illustrate the main characters’ backstories were
launched into so quickly that I was convinced the real start of the movie was
accidentally skipped over. The effect was jarring, and as proved to be the case
with the remainder of the film, the scenes were so rapid, disjointed, and
sloppily edited that you get no real insight into any of the characters’ lives
and motivations. The failure to successfully establish the members of the
Suicide Squad means we never grow to care about the majority of them, and their
actions and behaviors seem driven by the plot rather than born of their
characters.
To summarize the inane plot, ruthless government operative
Amanda Waller, played by Viola Davis in one of the film’s few effective
performances, recruits the “worst of the worst” villains and metahumans to defend
the world against the possibility of an otherworldly attack following the
events of the similarly dreadful Batman
vs. Superman.
The team is swept into action when Enchantress, a centuries
old witch possessing Dr. Joone Moone (Cara Delevingne), takes control of Midway
City with the help of her spirit brother, who possesses the body of a random
subway rider. Enchantress, lacking the creativity to devise a truly diabolical
method of world domination, designs a machine that turns ordinary folk into mindless
fighting zombies with heads resembling an amalgamation of pulsating boils. If
it sounds ludicrous and hokey reading it, you should see it in poorly rendered
CGI for the full effect.
The team goes through all of the predictable tiffs and
smarmy banter expected of a group of misfits before coming together at the end
to battle the comically unintimidating Enchantress, who writhes about like a
jonesing crack addict. In a riff on Satan’s temptation of Jesus in the desert,
Enchantress attempts to seduce the Squad by promising to fulfill their greatest
desires. Deadshot, Harley Quinn, and El Diablo are all given glimpses of their
ideal life, while Killer Croc and Boomerang are completely ignored. Apparently,
they have no hopes or dreams.
Jai Courtney (Boomerang) finds out how few lines he has.
The cast, for the most part, is the movie’s one redeeming
quality. Will Smith is charismatic as ever as the world’s deadliest hit man
with a soft spot for his daughter. Jay Hernandez hits the right notes as El
Diablo, who is reluctant to commit violence after a horrific incident involving
his family.
Margot Robbie’s performance as Harley Quinn is a bit more
uneven. At times she comes across as unhinged and sadistic, but for the most
party, she plays Quinn like a moody schoolgirl who sometimes has a thick New
Jersey accent. Jai Courtney is given nothing of consequence to do as Aussie hillbilly
Boomerang. Killer Croc looks intimidating and is given a few one-liners meant
to provide comic relief, but unfortunately, no one in the theater I attended
seemed able to understand what he was saying.
Joel Kinnaman, who I
loved in AMC’s The Killing and has
done good work in other films, is all over the map as Rick Flag, the special ops
leader of the Squad. He seems to have no clue what emotions he’s supposed to be
conveying, and his lines feel stiff and forced. We’re supposed to be
emotionally invested in him because of his romantic relationship with Dr.
Moone, but their relationship is glossed over so briefly that we never really
care about the outcome.
Then, there’s Jared Leto as the infamous Joker. After
hearing stories of Leto throwing a dead pig on the table during a script reading and sending his fellow cast
members unsolicited anal beads, I was expecting a memorable performance of one
of cinema’s great characters. Unfortunately, the Joker has such little screen
time that we don’t get an idea of how great Leto might have been if given more
to work with. In the few scenes he is in, he’s fairly intimidating and bizarre,
but nowhere near as complex and frightening as Heath Ledger’s rendition in The Dark Knight. As with Dr. Moone and
Rick Flag, the relationship between the Joker and Harley Quinn is established
so sloppily that it never resonates or seems believable.
The Joker, searching for more screen time.
How could this movie have gone so wrong? It has an A-list
cast, intriguing characters, and a director who helmed the excellent cop
thriller End of Watch and the gritty,
violent World War II film Fury. Hell,
anyone not named Zack Snyder would have been cause for celebration. When
reshoots began after filming was completed, rumors swirled that it was to add
more comedy after the backlash against the grim Batman vs. Superman; I hope that wasn’t the case. Batman vs. Superman wasn’t bad because
it was dark. It was bad because it was bad. Then, there’s the case of the
Enchantress. Roger Ebert once said a movie is only as good as its villain, and
the Enchantress is not the least bit menacing or compelling. Perhaps more focus
should have been given to the Joker, an infinitely more interesting character.
Now, I know the fanboys and fangirls get their respective
underwear in a bunch whenever a film adaptation of a beloved comic series gets
panned. This time, they thought they’d stick it to critics by starting a
petition to shut down Rotten Tomatoes. I have never been a reader of comics and
knew nothing of the Suicide Squad before seeing the first trailer, but if I was
a fan of the comics, I would be exceptionally pissed off at what I saw on
screen. I can’t believe that the comic series would have such ardent fans if it
was of the same quality as this jumbled, incoherent disappointment of a
promising movie.
I did not chance upon my second viewing of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I arrived home from work on a Friday, less than three weeks after a breakup, and I was sad. Logic told me to reach out to friends for company or find a mindless comedy on Netflix to pass the time, but I was sad and didn't much care to fight it. So, I sought out the movie about a mismatched couple who decide to have their memories of each other erased.
The movie begins with Jim Carrey, playing against type beautifully as the sad and introverted Joel, spontaneously ditching work to go to the seaside town of Montauk. It's freezing out and the beach is deserted, save for a woman with striking blue hair and a bright red sweatshirt. She is Kate Winslet's Clementine, all impulses and spontaneity.
Joel and Clementine are unable to shake each other the rest of the day. They end up at the same diner for lunch, casting curious glances at each other, before finding themselves sharing the same train home. It's here that they have their [first] conversation, which consists of Clementine spewing her every thought while Joel nods politely. They're polar opposites, but at this moment, they couldn't be more perfect for each other. By the end of the day, Clementine has already told Joel she's going to marry him. As he leaves to go home, in one of the movie's most memorable lines, Clementine implores him to wish her a Happy Valentine's Day when he calls her the next day, simply because "it would be nice."
If Eternal Sunshine sounds like standard romantic fare, I encourage you to seek it out on Netflix so you can have the joy of being proven wrong. The movie snakes its way back and forth through time as we discover that Clementine had her memories of Joel erased once their relationship soured. Confused and upset, Joel visits Lacuna, Inc., the provider of Clementine's and many other's memory erasures. It doesn't take him long to decide to have his memories of Clementine purged.
Eternal Sunshine's best scenes ensue during Joel's operation, in which he relives his memories with Clementine and, despite the tremendous hurt she caused him, decides he wants to keep these memories after all. As each one fades and dissipates, Joel desperately clings to Clementine and attempts to hide her away in memories where she doesn't belong. It all culminates in a heartbreaking scene. The two are sitting on the beach where they first met, and Clementine informs Joel that she'll be gone soon and asks him what they should do. Instead of continuing his fight to hold on to her, he calmly replies that they should enjoy the time they have left.
There are many reasons why Eternal Sunshine so strongly endears itself to viewers, even landing in the top 100 movies of all time as voted by users on IMDB. To me, aside from the innovative visuals and camera tricks, the film's greatest quality is its incredibly honest portrayal of romantic relationships. We get many glimpses of the great times between Joel and Clementine, but we also witness the moments when they hurt each other and the seeds for their relationships's demise were planted.
Eternal Sunshine poses a difficult question. Given the opportunity, would you choose to have your memories of a failed relationship removed? I think I decided to revisit the movie because it reinforced my answer. In my recent experience, I found the good memories to be the most painful, and they were the ones I kept revisiting. Those memories still hurt, but I would be lying if I said I don't cherish them. Those moments were magical, and the sadness of knowing there won't be more with that person is outweighed by the gratitude for having experienced them. I think Joel and Clementine come to the same realization.
There is an extended shot of actor David Gulpilil's face late in Charlie's Country that is devastating in its authenticity. Gulpilil's Charlie, behind prison bars, his dark hair and white beard shaved, has lost all sense of his identity.
Like many Australian Aborigines, Charlie is a stranger in his own country. His home is a government settlement in Arnhem Land, a region of Australia's Northern Territory. He spends his days walking the dirt streets of the village, voicing his concern over the lack of quality food in the only market store, making small talk amidst the constant buzzing of insects, and sleeping in his government paid for housing, which amounts to nothing more than a wooded platform and a mattress.
Charlie has his frustrations, but he maintains a sense of humor and camaraderie with the other villagers. That begins to change after a couple of run-ins with the white policemen stationed in the village. Charlie and a neighbor get their guns and truck confiscated after shooting a water buffalo for meat. Still wishing to hunt, Charlie carves a traditional spear, only to have the police take it as well.
Charlie's inability to provide for himself as his ancestors did, governed by prohibitve rules established by outsiders in his native land, drives him to the bush to live off of the land. The venture starts off well. Charlie fashions a hut, spears fish and cooks them beneath burning embers, and his inherent connection to the land and his heritage springs forth from hibernation. Then, a health setback leads to an emergency flight to a hospital in Darwin. Separated from his village and the land he calls home, Charlie's mental state and sense of self begin to deteriorate. He flees the hospital, falls in with a group of displaced Aborigines living in a wooded area just outside the city, begins drinking heavily, and ends up in prison.
What makes Charlie's Country so moving is the palpable sense of inner turmoil Gulpilil conveys with little dialogue and spare facial expressions. Gulpilil has lived this life, feels these frustrations, and can't be said to be acting here. With every distrusting look he receives and injustice he suffers, he embodies the collective pain of his people, who have lost so much and cling to their tradition and pride like life preservers.
Australian cinema has produced several frightening examinations of its nation's soul. Wake in Fright focused on aggressive male bonding and alcoholism in a brutal Outback town; Picnic at Hanging Rock used the unexplained disappearance of a group of boarding school girls to tackle themes of repressed sexuality; and Walkabout, also starring Gulpilil, looked at the consequences of the communication gap between white and Aborigine culture. With Charlie's Country, which is more straightforward in its approach to Australia's cultural divide, we are presented with an Australia that is teeming with history and mysticism. But like Charlie's Country's title character, Australia risks the loss of its true identity.
Two kids, fresh off a glue sniffing binge, go to a young man's house and pay to sleep with his mentally disabled younger sister.
A group of shirtless rednecks gets drunk and takes turns arm wrestling before beating the shit out of a kitchen chair.
If you're not intrigued, don't bother with Gummo. All 90 minutes of its runtime are replete with disturbing scenes of nihilism. Filmed in the poorest neighborhoods of Nashville, Gummo is set in the town of Xenia, Ohio in the aftermath of a devastating tornado. The twister is glimpsed in grainy footage at the beginning and end of the movie, and I guess it's meant to give an explanation of why the town's residents seem resigned to lives of killing cats, getting high, and fighting furniture.
It's a fucked up movie. There's not much of a story to speak of, the picture and audio are often unclear, and several scenes drag in inanity. But despite its inadequacies, Gummo has several jarring scenes and strangely beautiful passages that make it memorable and contribute to its cult status. The child bathing in filthy water -- a strip of bacon sticks to the wall above the tub -- while eating spaghetti and drinking milk; the albino woman discussing her dream man; the boy with the bunny ears playing an accordion in a vacant bathroom; and the climactic montage set to Roy Orbison's "Crying"…there's poetry in the way these scenes play out.
Written and directed by the enigmatic Harmony Korine, who got his break penning the script for Larry Clark's divisive movie Kids and most recently scripted and directed the surreal Spring Breakers, Gummo sheds light on places and people most moviegoers would deem unfit for the screen. There's a purity in the way Korine simply turned the camera on these people and let them be. Korine has certainly matured as a person and filmmaker over the years, but his work still maintains the same fuck you attitude and unorthodox components that established him as a major talent (the Britney Spears song segment in Spring Breakers is a minor miracle). I can't say whether or not you'll enjoy Gummo, but you won't soon forget it.
I love movies – the emotions they elicit, the places they
show, the people they introduce. Every movie, good or bad, offers a new
experience. The following 10 films are not necessarily the 10 best I’ve ever
seen, but they represent all that I love about movies. If there are any you
haven’t seen, check them out and let me know what you think. Enjoy.
Rocky
The ultimate underdog tale and the antithesis of
the rest of the Rocky films, the first installment of the franchisewas grounded in reality. Aside
from the fairy tale circumstances that pit the penniless, down-on-his-luck
southpaw against the heavyweight champion of the world, the characters,
setting, and emotions are incredibly authentic. And, most importantly, Sylvester
Stallone succeeded in making it impossible to not root for his title character.
Rocky was certainly rough around the edges, but he treated those around him
with kindness and fierce loyalty. We all know the famous training sequence,
but it’s the tender moments between Rocky and Adrian, Paulie, and Mick that
made the Rocky so endearing and lasting. The supporting characters
were richly drawn and achieved their own personal victories along the way,
something that was greatly missed in the shallow sequels. Sure, Rocky screaming
for Adrian will always be cheesy, but you smile every damn time.
Winter’s Bone
I feel like what little I've contributed to
this blog has been a shrine to Winter’s
Bone, but it’s that fucking good. The movie that served as Jennifer
Lawrence’s coming out party is a dark, suspenseful tale about a girl searching
for her meth-cooking dad, who put the family house up to post his bond after
getting arrested. When he promptly disappears after getting released,
Lawrence’s character, Ree, sets off to find him to avoid losing the house.
Set and filmed in the poverty-ridden backwoods of the
Ozarks, Winter’s Bone is a gritty
tale of survival and determination when everything, and everyone, seems to be
working against you. Throw in an incredible performance by John Hawkes as Ree’s
violent uncle, and Winter’s Bone has
all the makings of a truly great movie.
In Bruges
I can recall few movies that feature as distinct
a setting as the medieval city of Bruges. Bruges plays such a prominent role that it
deserved top billing. That’s not to take away from the film’s leads, Brendan
Gleeson and Colin Farrell. They are phenomenal as two London hit men hiding out
in Bruges after a botched job, and they spend the days touring Bruges and
“gettin’ pissed." A dark comedy, In
Bruges is at its funniest when Gleeson and Farrell are bickering about
Bruges (Farrell’s character despises the city, while Gleeson’s is in awe).
There are also several hilarious moments featuring an American dwarf actor
who’s in Bruges to film a movie.
The profanity in In Bruges is delivered with gleeful
velocity, and the dialogue is the movie’s greatest pleasure. Even if the plot
doesn’t appeal to you, the movie’s worth watching just to see Bruges. I spent a
day there in the spring of 2010, and it is, as Gleeson’s character observes, a
fairy tale place.
Wake in Fright
I have a fondness for movies that introduce
me to unfamiliar places. I especially enjoy when those places play a key role
in the action. In the case of Wake in
Fright, the suffocating heat and desolation of the Australian Outback are
palpable, draining the inhabitants of their humanity. The majority of the men
in the fictional town of Bundanyabba are aggressive alcoholics, and the only
female given screen time seems resigned to a meaningless existence. The promise
of sex brings out a sense of desperation rather than joy.
When the central character, John Grant, arrives in the
“Yabba” for a night before catching a flight to Sydney, he quickly loses all of
his money in a crude gambling game played by the locals. He descends into a hellish
haze of alcohol and violence that unravels him frighteningly fast. Capped off
by a disgusting kangaroo night hunt and an insinuated rape, Wake in Fright is one of those films
that sticks with you long after you see it.
Zodiac
Directed by the great David Fincher, Zodiac is a near masterpiece in the way
it generates prolonged suspense with its dialogue. Much of the film consists of
journalist at The San Francisco Chronicle and local police trying to piece
together a puzzle where the pieces never seemed to connect, and it is
enthralling. Zodiac generates its
emotional impact by showing how the lives of the people trying to solve the
case slowly came undone from a lack of evidence, the taunts of the killer, and
the realization that the culprit would most likely never be caught.
Few movies have been more expertly cast. Mark Ruffalo and
Robert Downey, Jr. especially stand out as Detective Dave Toskey, the lead
investigator, and Paul Avery, the journalist at The Chronicle who stoked the
ire of the Zodiac and received a death threat in return. The movie takes
advantage of foggy San Francisco, that damp and eerie city, to create a sense
of dread that lingers from start to finish. And that scene in the basement…
Zack and Miri Make a Porno
Kevin Smith, director of the
classic slacker comedy Clerks, is a
masterful writer of vulgarities. His 2008 romp, Zack and Miri Make a Porno, is inundated with the most offensive profanities
known to man. The language, however, is pure poetry, and it’s delivered with
relish by all of the cast members. From the hilarious exchange among Justin
Long, Seth Rogen, and Brandon Routh at the Monroeville High School reunion to the
“cure for constipation” scene, Zack and
Miri is wall-to-wall laughs. What makes it stand out above other
foul-mouthed comedies is the quality of the writing and what is, beneath the
smut, a sweet story about goodhearted and likable people.
Leaving Las Vegas
A sad, sad movie with two superb
performances at its center, Leaving Las
Vegas tells the story of Ben, a successful film producer in Los Angeles who
has descended into the deepest throes of alcoholism. When we meet Ben – played
by Nicolas Cage in an Oscar-winning performance – at the start of the movie, he
is hounding two colleagues at a restaurant for booze money. He tries to
keep up appearances with his attire and small talk, but he is a train wreck.
Ben’s drinking costs him his job, and he decides to head to Vegas with his
generous severance pay on a mission to drink himself to death.
This all happens before the opening credits. We never
discover why Ben began drinking, and he doesn't seem to remember why, either. Once he arrives in Vegas, he meets Sera, a prostitute for an abusive
pimp. Elisabeth Shue is incredible in the role, giving Sera much more depth
than the standard hooker with the heart of gold. Despite Ben’s rapid self-destruction,
Sera finds in him a love that can’t be explained. He doesn’t judge her, and he
doesn’t stand in the way of her work.
What’s most heartbreaking about Leaving Las Vegas is the promise Sera must make to Ben – to never
ask him to quit drinking. And despite the promise of love offered to him by
Sera, Ben remains steadfast in his tragic goal. Leaving Las Vegas is
beautifully acted and directed, and it demonstrates better than most stories
that true love is about acceptance.
Magnolia
There is a lengthy segment in Magnolia where the many main characters hit rock bottom. For most
of them, they come to realizations about themselves of which they were
in dire need. One of the many pleasures of watching Magnolia is seeing how they react to their moments of clarity.
Much like its successor, Crash,
Magnolia follows the lives of several
people living in Los Angeles whose lives are unknowingly interconnected. They
are the by-the-book cop, the TV game show host and his drug addicted daughter,
the misogynistic pick-up artist, the child TV star, and the gold-digging wife
of a dying producer who finds that she does, in fact, love him.
The gravity of what seem like trivial occurrences and the role
that coincidence and chance play in everyday life are given serious thought by
the movie’s immensely talented director, Paul Thomas Anderson. The ending
understandably frustrates many viewers, but it’s consistent with the film’s
message. Strange things happen all the time.
Dazed and Confused
The seminal high school movie. You didn’t
have to be a teenager in the 70’s for Dazed
and Confused to elicit nostalgia. The sense of freedom, good music, and the
promise of young love are all portrayed so memorably. We knew these people: the
asshole super senior, the stoner, the easy going guy who gets along with
everyone. Director Richard Linklater, currently earning high acclaim for
Boyhood, runs the gamut of teenage emotions all in the course of one day in a small Texas town. With
a kick ass soundtrack and several memorable lines, Dazed and Confused is much more than alright alright alright.
Warrior
I didn't expect much from Warrior. I’m not a fan of UFC, and the plot sounded ripe for sports
clichés, albeit with an intriguing twist. Warrior’s
plot is definitely unrealistic, but the performances and fight scenes give the
movie an incredible emotional impact. Nick Nolte is especially good as Paddy
Conlan, the father of Brendan (Joel Edgerton) and Tommy (Tom Hardy). It’s made
clear from the start that Paddy was a fearsome alcoholic and abuser of his wife
and sons. He hopes his newfound sobriety will help repair his relationship with
Brendan and Tommy, but it’s a case of too little, too late.
Tommy, the youngest, returns home to Pittsburgh after a tour
in the Army. He solicits his dad to coach him for a major UFC tournament
featuring the world's best fighters. He makes it clear to Paddy
that he has no interest in reconciling their relationship. Brendan is married
with a young daughter who has a heart condition. A well-liked middle school
teacher and former low level UFC fighter, Brendan supplements the family’s
income by fighting in “smokers,” fights held in strip club parking lots and
such. He also has no interest in breaking bread with his father, though he
seems to have adjusted to life more effectively than Tommy.
For a fight movie, Warrior
spends a lot of time with Tommy and Brendan outside of the cage. So when the two
meet in the ring, we have a lot of emotion invested in both of them. We don’t want
to see either of them lose. The final minutes of Warrior are powerful and draining, and I couldn’t be happier that I
gave it a chance.
"...sometimes I think I have felt everything I'm ever gonna feel, and from here on out I'm not gonna feel anything new... just... lesser versions of what I've already felt."
This line from Theodore, played by Joaquin Phoenix, conveys the quiet anguish that has consumed him since splitting with his wife (Rooney Mara). Although Spike Jonze's Her features some overly quirky characters and an interesting view of fashion in the near future, it's story is one of loneliness and the search for human connection in a world where its availability is scarce. As dating sites and apps increase in number and diminish in complexity, and the beauty of intimate, face-to-face conversation becomes lost on a generation accustomed to the comforting barriers of instant messaging and texting, the search for love has gone digital.
Following the failed marriage that has left him scarred, withdrawn, and "mopey," as described by his good friend Amy (an unkempt Amy Adams), Theodore settles into a solo routine of work, video games, and sleep. He works for a company that specializes in writing letters on behalf of its clients, often letters to loved ones. In the future envisioned by Jonze, advanced software allows Theodore and his coworkers to dictate the letters instead of typing them out. Theodore excels at composing thoughtful messages but has lost the confidence and desire to use his natural romanticism to benefit his social life.
Enter Samantha, a newly developed operating system that self-customizes to best complement the personality of its owner. Voiced beautifully by Scarlett Johansson, Samantha speaks earnestly with Theodore about his dreams, concerns, and the meaning of life. In turn, Samantha expresses excitement over her budding understanding of human nature and frustration with the limitations of her existence, for lack of a better word. It's left to the viewer to determine whether Samantha is truly capable of experiencing emotion or is just simulating it per her - or its - programming. Johansson made me lean towards the former, while logic pulled me towards the latter; this is one of Her's many appeals. It makes you consider the nature of relationships in a way few films with human couples can. It's a testament to Jonze's writing and the performance of the actors.
In Samantha, Theodore finds a confidant and what most would describe as a soul mate. He opens up about the failed relationship with his wife and shares his confusion over what went wrong. They go on dates, Samantha composes music that reflects their time together and their budding relationship, and the physical obstacle to sex is somewhat overcome.
Although the physical obstacles are what you'd assume would pose the most harm to the relationship, it's Theodore's insecurities and Samantha's desire for something "more than this" that threatens their arrangement. The joys, frustrations, and pitfalls of their romance are familiar to anyone who has been in a loving relationship.
Despite their struggles, Samantha and Theodore, together, learn much about themselves and their capabilities. Her's ending will confuse and frustrate many, but it closes with a reassuring reminder that, despite what Theodore once believed, there is always more to feel.
The Hell referred to in this line from Wake in Fright (1971) is Bundanyabba, a fictional town in the Australian Outback where an ignorant and arrogant schoolteacher meets his ruin over the course of five days. The devils are the beer-swigging locals who are glad to be your "mate" so long as you have a drink -- or 10.
John Grant, played by British actor Gary Bond, is a young schoolteacher forced to pay off a government bond for his college education by teaching in a one-room school in the town of Tiboonda, shown in the opening shot as nothing more than two drab buildings surrounded by an endless expanse of flat, arid land. For being so vast, the landscape is suffocating.
The opening shot of Wake in Fright - the "town" of Tiboonda
The movie begins on the last day of class before the start of Christmas break. Grant rushes from the school to the only other building in town, a pub with a few rooms for lodging. He has just enough time for a beer and a few condescending remarks with the sweaty proprietor before catching his train. One of the most powerful images in the film occurs in the pub, as Grant catches a glimpse of the bartender's wife sitting lifelessly in the kitchen, resigned to a fate of dust, sweat, and loneliness, and the despair of knowing that life has nothing more to offer her.
Grant can't get out of Tiboonda soon enough. He plans to spend the holidays in Sydney with his girlfriend, Robin. His itinerary consists of a night's stay in the small city of Bundanyabba, referred to affectionately by the locals as "the Yabba," where he will catch his flight the following morning.
What follows is Grant's descent into Hell. After a drunken night of gambling that leaves him broke, he finds himself unable to escape the Yabba and resigns himself to the aggressive hospitality of several locals who prove to be little more than animals fueled by cheap beer. Grant is bombarded with endless offers of beer, and to turn down booze in the Outback is a sin on par with murder. Among the group he falls in with is Doc Tydon, a sinister, self-proclaimed alcoholic who passes himself off as a doctor and philosopher.
Wake in Fright paints a terrifying portrait of the Outback, where the stifling heat, barren landscape, shortage of women, and overwhelming isolation leaves its inhabitants searching for an escape, whether through beer or suicide. After a few blackouts, a sickening kangaroo hunt, and a horrific night in Doc Tydon's shack, John Grant discovers what little it takes to reduce a human being to a savage.
The title of the film comes from a Medieval adage. "May you dream of the devil and wake in fright." *Available on Netflix Instant Streaming
