OH DADDY! : a review of "On The Rocks"

"ON THE ROCKS"
Written and Directed by Sofia Coppola
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED R

It truly is a feat when a filmmaker is somehow ab le to take a familiar theme and miraculously discover new sides, shades, tones and avenues with which to explore those familiar themes. 

Writer/Director Sofia Coppola has made her career exploring themes of ennui, loneliness, isolation, and definitely the trappings of and feeling trapped by affluence, whether through birth or acquisition. More often than not, and most crucially, we have gathered Coppola's thematic vision through the eyes of her female characters as evidenced through the hazy teenage dream of "The Virgin Suicides" (1999), the culture clash of "Lost In Translation" (2003), impressionistic period dramas "Marie Antionette" (2006) and "The Beguiled" (2017) and the tabloid-esque docudrama of "The Bling Ring" (2013) while the stark, esoteric "Somewhere" (2010) exists as her sole feature to be viewed exclusively through a male character. 

To me, this quality of Coppola's body of work is notable because her filmography is unquestionably filtered through her unique perspective and life experience, which has arrived from her gender functioning and continuing to thrive within a male dominated industry plus her own family pedigree. It is a viewpoint that I have thoroughly enjoyed over the course of her entire career as she has more than delivered the goods and for my sensibilities, has cemented herself as a continuously provocative and idiosyncratic artist as no one else makes films in quite the same way that she does. 

With her latest film "On The Rocks," Sofia Coppola has reunited with the great Bill Murray and has successfully merged her artistic sensibilities with the romantic comedy genre, making for a particularly fine fit. With this film, we are graced with the welcome arrival of Coppola's sly, frisky side while not ever sacrificing any sense of her seriousness and overall empathy for her characters and situations. In doing so, "On The Rocks" makes for a more than fully ingratiating, entertaining and still ever enlightening and bittersweet ride.

"On The Rocks" stars the wonderful Rashida Jones as Laura Keane, a New York City based author struggling with writer's block as her life is consumed with raising her two adorable little daughters Maya (Liyanna Muscat) and Theo (Alexandra and Anna Reimer), being a homemaker, and feeling her inner light dimming in the face of her husband Dean's (Marlon Wayans) rapidly rising career as an entrepreneur with a tech start up company.  

With Dean increasingly entangled at work as well as feeling frustrated with her lack of creative productivity, growing further apart from the vapid social scene of her children's school culture, growing more existentially exhausted and feeling threatened by the presence of Dean's gorgeous business associate Fiona Saunders (Jessica Henwick), Laura begins to fear that Dean is having an affair which therefore, jeopardizes her overall sense of self as a wife, Mother and a woman.

So, it is time to ask for help from Dad, who happens to be, Felix Keane (Bill Murray), wealthy, world traveled art dealer and eternal playboy who is more than thrilled to assist Laura is her discovery of the truth about her husband while also continuing to repair and rejuvenate their precarious relationship after his departure from her family when she was a child due to an affair.   

While Sofia Coppola's "On The Rocks" more than displays her trademark melancholic style and sharper than it may seems satirical outlook (Jenny Slate's terrific appearances throughout as Laura's vacuously self-absorbed school Mom "friend" are especially razor sharp), what she has achieved here is possibly her lightest, most charming escapade. As she more than typically displays a minimalistic approach, this film contains a larger amount of dialogue than we would usually witness in a Sofia Coppola film, but again she utilizes a terrific economy of words, set ups and situations to convey precisely what she needs in order to present a world of meaning in the lives of her characters. 

As Laura Keane, Rashida Jones again displays not only why she is a gift of a strong comedic and dramatic actress but also a certain incredulity as to why she is not utilized more than she is. Jones instantly makes for the perfect Coppola conduit leading character as she nails all of the aforementioned themes of ennui, loneliness and isolation within the confines of a young marriage, young Motherhood, being an aging daughter and finding oneself within a professional and personal rut. She accomplishes this feat with such detailed and meticulously observed efficiency and empathy that she does not ever overplay a moment, situation or emotion, making her as believable as life, as believable as any woman you may know in your own personal lives. 

As a writer, Sofia Coppola always feels to leave holes within her stories, holes for us to fill in the details to which she implies, but does not overtly state, for ourselves to discern. In addition, and as far as I am concerned, wrongly so, Coppola has been routinely criticized over the years for succumbing to her own sense of White privilege due to the opulence of her settings and the lack of diversity in her casts. With "On The Rocks," both she and Rashida Jones confront both criticisms head on and also without broadcasting neon signs of defensiveness. Again, everything is presented as matter-of-fact and with all of the implicit history and baggage contained snuggly. All we have to do is look and listen and all we need to know is there for us to find.  

With regards to race and class, part of Laura Keane's existential quandary is due to the constant feeling that she does not belong. We can gather this from a more personal/familial standpoint as she is clearly still processing the trajectory of her life and relationships due to her Dad's long ago affair and departure. Equally primal are the attitudes of race and class that permeate her life in upper class New York City, as Laura is biracial, married to a Black husband and has two Black daughters. Yes, both she and Dean have more than earned their station in life, to which they are still adjusting to, but even so, Laura always feels out of place and out of step and additionally, with her birthday being a plot point, she is increasingly feeling as if she is out of time.

Remarks are consistently made about Laura's wardrobe and overall appearance compared to others or in regards to a social setting, and definitely when she compares herself to Fiona. She questions her own talents as her writer's block persists, thus making her feel as if she is a fraud who therefore has no right to be where she is. And in one particularly crucial sequence, after she and her Dad have lost track of Dean in a ridiculous car chase, and have been stopped by the NYC police--a situation Felix Keane easily talks his way out of--she utters to her Dad, in full sarcasm, "It must be very nice to be you."

What a brilliantly multi-layered (and very funny) statement that is for Laura to express. On one level, it speaks to the relationship she has with her Dad and the fullness of his character--or her perception of him--as Felix Keane is easily a soul flowing through life seemingly without consequence due to his confidence and charm obviously but also due to his status and privilege as a wealthy, White man. Laura knows only too well that if she or Dean were caught in the exact same situation, a more fateful outcome is more than likely, and it is that specific quality of writing, direction and performance that allows this moment to have its edge as well as comedy. 

Bill Murray remains an absolute joy to behold! And as Felix Keane, as well as returning to the Sofia Coppola landscape, he is also operating on a series of levels in order to deliver a performance that is richer, deeper and more solemn that it may seem to be on the surface. 

First of all, we are receiving his classic "Saturday Night Live" persona, the devil may care, always ready with the perfect wisecrack character and filled with a laconic merriment that always finds some song in his heart. (Honestly, to this day, I still do not understand the sheer pleasure I feel when Bill Murray sings and in this film, his performance of the song "Mexicali Rose" is a gem.). 

Secondly, we have the real world Bill Murray persona, the nearly enigmatic figure, the one without an agent and who hopeful filmmakers have to reach by use of a secret 1-800 number, and is also world traveled and seemingly at home anywhere and everywhere surprising unsuspecting folks in all manner of situations and events. 

Third, we have the persona of the eccentric, cultivated, cultured, exceedingly wealthy, melancholic, romantic and ultimately lonely man of late middle to early elderly age as witnessed within Wes Anderson's "Rushmore" (1998), Jim Jarmusch's "Broken Flowers" (2005) and of course, Coppola's own "Lost In Translation."  

All three of those personas go into the makeup of the character of Felix Keane, which showcases precisely how and why he is a figure that so many people, especially women, are attracted to...and in many ways, it is also a large window into why Laura continuously seeks his counsel, his assistance, and his advice even when she is rightfully infuriated with him. 

Clearly, Laura wishes that she harbored the same outward confidence that Felix possesses while it simultaneously exasperates her as what is alluring to others often feels callous and even sexist to her, based upon their shared history. Felix waxes philosophically over again with stories, tales and historical homilies about the innate natures of men and women, to Laura's increased chagrin as she questions Dean faithfulness. Yet, for Felix himself, it is not a question of whether he believes his own stories, in a way, they all serve as confessionals, admissions, and even forms of regret and shame for his past and maybe current transgressions. 

Felix's adventures, and the detective hijinks he initiates with Laura, are all designed for him to outrun his guilt for the pain he has caused, serves as a means for him to ask for atonement without ever openly saying the words and soothe his intense loneliness as he is a man about the world but he quite possibly does not have any real friends. He adores his daughter undeniably and he longs to spend time with her, to be included and he is so obviously thrilled to be asked for help that he makes the mistake of presenting himself as being so cavalier that he is unfeeling for the real damage that he has caused. Bill Murray inhabits every inch of this performance with such grace and ease that he just makes it all look so deceptively easy and he is just a pleasure to regard again.    

I am just amazed at how each film that Sofia Coppola releases, while existing at its own entity, all feels like chapter of a continuing cinematic novel of which she is the author. "On The Rocks," so clean and efficiently direct in its execution, while also presenting the emotional messiness within the interpersonal relationships between a collective of family members, makes for one especially delicious chapter to explore and experience.

And what's more, it is a bonafide love story that cares deeply about its protagonists, and how they treat each other and themselves as they continue to make their respective ways in an ever challenging world.

LIFTED: a review of "Soul"

"SOUL"
A Pixar Animation Studios Film
Story and Screenplay Written by Pete Doctor, Mike Jones & Kemp Powers
Directed by Pete Doctor  Co-Directed by Kemp Powers
**** (four stars)
RATED PG 

Tremendous!!

It has been five long years since the wizards of Pixar have released anything that I felt lived up to the gold standard of animation that they achieved and maintained for so much of their existence but have seemingly long abandoned in favor of creating an assembly line of uninspired sequels. It was truly enough to sadden me as Pixar has, from the very beginning, devised an ingenious way to merge the worlds of art and commerce as they made film after film that served as an artistic statement while raking in a bonanza of box office dollars plus subsequent merchandising. Everything was "win-win," and once the studio reached what I felt to be their pinnacle with three absolutely superlative films--Brad Bird's "Ratatouille" (2007), Andrew Stanton's "WALL-E" (2008) and Pete Doctor's "Up" (2009)--I felt them to be unstoppable.

I have been here before upon this blogsite with these laments concerning Pixar and the trajectory they chose to take upon themselves in the years since that outstanding trio of films and this let down I have felt with the bulk of their output since. Save for Pete Doctor's audacious, extraordinary "Inside Out" (2015), the sequel route has really not done much for Pixar outside of increasing its bottom line, as far as I am concerned. Or for those who would wish to quibble with me about that point, allow me to re-state. 

My interest in Pixar releases dwindled considerably because the studio had reached a certain plateau where they were making the sorts of films that increasingly didn't seem to be relatively concerned if there were children in the audience or not. They were ensuring that what was being made was not disposable or forgettable. That even if the the films sailed over the heads of children, there would be enough to keep them entertained at the present and then, they would be the very films that they could grow with, thus making them timeless works of art. The glut of Pixar sequels, while beautifully rendered as always and as expected, in totality felt to fall dramatically short in terms of impact, affection and even purpose beyond existing as "lunchbox movies." And so, what was the point of me sitting through something that was obviously painstakingly made but emotionally thin to empty? Frankly, I just didn't wish to waste my time being further disappointed. 

And now, we arrive with "Soul."

Pixar's "Soul," again directed by Pete Doctor and in collaboration with co-director Kemp Powers, is a full bodied return to unquestionable animated and storytelling glory as it is a film that beautifully extends from "Inside Out" and becomes something even more audacious, surprising, spectacular, innovative, boldly imaginative and emotionally provocative and while also remaining dazzling, playful, brisk, fanciful and enormously entertaining. It is the finest Pixar film since "Inside Out" and what's more, it is one of the very finest the studio has made to date.

"Soul" tells the story of Joe Gardner (voiced by Jamie Foxx), a middle school part time band teacher who feels unfulfilled with his current station in life as he continuously dreams of success as a jazz pianist, much to the chagrin of his seamstress Mother, Libby (voiced by Phylicia Rashad). 

On one fateful day, professional jazz drummer Curley (voiced by Questlove), a former student of Joe's, reaches out and informs Joe that the great jazz artist/saxophonist Dorothea Williams (voiced by Angela Bassett) is playing in town that night and is in sudden need of a pianist. Joe auditions, gets the job on the spot, and in his elation of his life finally ascending as he has always wished, a freak accident occurs separating Joe's body from his soul, sending it on its way to The Great Beyond.

Unconvinced that he has indeed passed on, Joe's soul races away from The Great Beyond, finding himself within The Great Before, the domain where unborn souls are paired with soul counselors, all named Jerry (all voiced by Richard Ayoade, Alice Braga, Fortune Feimster, Zenobia Shroff and Wes Studi, respectively), in preparation for them to be assigned personalities traits as well as that elusive "spark" in order to ready themselves for their lives on Earth. 

Masquerading as a mentor, while also attempting to elude the ever persistent Terry, the soul accountant in The Great Beyond (voiced by Rachel House), Joe's soul is paired with the belligerent, cyclical Soul 22 (voiced by Tina Fey), whose defiantly skeptical nature has avoided her from living life on Earth for as long as time itself.    

From this point, Joe and 22 embark upon a metaphysical journey during which they each discover what exactly what is soul.

Pete Doctor's "Soul" is an absolute wonderment of a film. Even more than "Inside Out," I am stunned with how Doctor and his entire team have even able to take subject matter so esoteric and somehow make everything accessible. Where "Inside Out" was a film about emotions and our feelings about those emotions combined with the stages of memory and aging, "Soul" concerns itself with nothing less than the meaning of life and how that definition pertains to our individual and collective existences via our sense of fate, destiny, and inter-connectivity to all other living things.  

In so many ways, "Soul" could very easily exist in the same neighborhood as Terrence Malick's "The Tree Of Life" (2011) but by the same token, and without delving into spoilers as to upend any potential surprises and entertainment for you, the film is also not too far removed from Alexander Hall's "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" (1941), Warren Beatty and Buck Henry's "Heaven Can Wait" (1978) and Carl Reiner's "All Of Me" (1984), as Doctor has injected his film with a sprightly pace and copious amounts of sharp, satirical and slapstick humor which keeps the proceedings flying high even as it never squanders any emotional and dramatic poignancy. 

In fact, be prepared to find yourself exploring some extremely deep personal waters, and therefore, moved to a primal level, as the film probes the philosophy and psychology of Joe and 22's odyssey with a superlative empathy, openness and honesty. For both characters, and therefore for all of us as we watch, we are engaged with a story that asks of us to view and explore ourselves from the outside in as well as the inside out, which for both Joe and 22, allows them to learn about themselves in ways they otherwise would not. 

For Joe, by having such a single minded pursuit in becoming a famous jazz artist existing as the one thing in life worth living for, is that a life lived at all? For 22, it is the discovery of what does it mean to live at all and the purpose being the act of existing and experiencing. I loved how the film took the time to challenge the characters and ourselves as to what it truly means to have purpose and whether having a purpose defines the meaning of one's soul. I also found an especially deep connection to the film's metaphysical landscape's depiction and representation of lost souls and the inner demons that can so easily rise up to engulf our spirit, thus crippling our ability to engage and fully live. And to that end, we, and the film, question where our personalities actually derive from and how they are shaped once we experience existence and even further, what happens when we are confronted with the inevitability of death. 

From end to end, "Soul" implores of its characters and all of us to essentially do what it takes to "Know Thyself," as the full knowledge of who we are is a life long quest that is forever changing, is forever challenged (especially when the perceived disappointments of one's parents possesses a powerful influence and impact upon one's sense of self-perception) and hopefully filled with some sense of enlightenment, if we are open enough to receive all of the messages the world, and therefore, we, are sending to ourselves. 

Pete Doctor's "Soul," is a creative, inventive, emotional and existential feast and this film emerging from Pixar, it is undeniably a full, lush cinematic feast, one in which these wizards have truly outdone themselves and have advanced so incredibly far from when they first blew our collective minds with John Lasseter's game changing "Toy Story" (1995).

With the metaphysical worlds presented in "Soul," we are given a psychedelic wonderland filled with sumptuous impressionism and haunting symbolism. It is fantasia of colors, landscapes, moods, textures, colors, and even sounds as evidenced by the surprising space and depth as delivered by Composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, clearly the last people one might think of to score anything emerging from Pixar, and therefore, Disney...and the fit is perfection.   

Even better are all of the elements that depict a real world New York City and every single frame is as resplendent as the sequences of Paris in "Ratatouille." From middle school classrooms, to apartments, jazz clubs, neighborhood storefronts and brownstones, city streets, sidewalks, clothing and even the sunlight flowing through the autumn leaves, the richness of detail is so photo realistic that every image felt as if they were from still photographs. A barbershop that Joe visits, in particular, deserves an award in and of itself due to the clear affection given towards its meticulous construction and presentation. I even took a moment to freeze frame shots just to have time for my eyes to really explore and drink the sights (admittedly an advantage to having the film to stream at home instead of seeing it for the first time in a theater, which is not an endorsement but merely an observation).

And to that end, we arrive at what may be its greatest success and that lies in the fact that representation is everything. It was so wise of Pete Doctor and the filmmakers to not solely have Joe exist as the studio's first African American leading character and just call it a day. From a visual standpoint, it was a dream to see the animated visage of a Black man so presented with such clarity and beauty and a natural quality of a real, living breathing Back gentleman. The way skin was colored and therefore illuminated was breathtaking for me to behold. And therefore, to witness all of our African American characters look, and therefore exist as the beautiful people we are in the real world was downright revolutionary. Great care was obviously taken to never present any that could be construed or even misconstrued as caricature. And just that is enough reason for me to celebrate this film...but Doctor went even further.

"Soul," while being celebratory of the life experience overall, it is a film that is also celebratory of the Black experience in particular yet in a way that is so matter-of-fact and slice of life rather than anything one could fathom as being remotely dogmatic or confrontational. We are given a supremely warm view into the Black family experience, from blood ties to the overall neighborhood and community, again including crucial areas of its schools, homes, night clubs and the barbershop, which also includes a variety of Black male figures living life, sharing conversations and aspirations together. We are then further given views into Black hair culture, Black history (Charles Drew, you ask? Look him up!)and of course, the magical, musical Black invented art form of jazz music itself, which features selections overseen by Jon Batiste.  

To be represented with such detail, authenticity and affection was just one more way in which I felt to be seen and acknowledge as being an essential piece of our overall human connection and I deeply applaud Pete Doctor, Kemp Powers and the entire team for ensuring that the humanity of us as African American was served and embraced as profoundly as it was, and will forever be with this timeless film. 

And timeless is precisely what we have with "Soul," the very type of film Pixar used to make and has returned to with a greater artistry than they have exhibited in quite some time. This is without doubt or question a film for the ages as it delivers a story about what it means to live, from the taste of a lollipop, to the feeling of wind upon or bodies, to a touch, taste, or smell, the feelings contained in memories, the connections forged with each other, and the sensation that only arrives in inspiration.

What is soul? For me, this time, it is the feeling derived as I watched every single moment of this elegant, extravagant film.

KEEP IT UNIQUE: a review of "Zappa"

 "ZAPPA"
Directed by Alex Winter
***1/2 (three and a half stars)

NOT RATED

It is amazing to think that if Frank Zappa had lived, he would be celebrating his 80th birthday. 

To that end, it is unfathomable of how much more music he would have composed, should he had lived another 27 years, instead of passing away from prostate cancer in 1993 at the age of only 52. Even further, should he had lived, what would his reputation potentially had become? Would he have still remained upon the fringes of the fringes of the counter culture, forever appealing solely to his passionate fan base or might he have at long last achieved a greater sense of recognition and acclaim for being the iconoclastic artist and composer that he had always set out for himself to being? And even then, might he have ever attained a sense of satisfaction, or possibly even inner peace?

Certainly themes of personal satisfaction and inner peace feel to run at complete contrast to the uncompromising music, unrepentant legacy and defiantly mercurial persona of Frank Zappa, who I am sure would have openly scoffed at any such leanings. But, those themes indeed came to the forefront of my mind as I viewed Director Alex Winter's excellent, meticulously researched and executed documentary, simply entitled "Zappa," an experience that works equally well for the Zappa novice and longtime fan while giving us a greater insight into his musical universe while simultaneously preserving and enhancing the mystery of his inscrutable persona.

Alex Winter's "Zappa" takes a largely chronological path in detailing the life of the titular artist. While there is no narration, we are given this tour via a variety of interviews with the man himself plus past band members (including percussionist Ruth Underwood and guitarist Steve Vai), creative collaborators (including late claymation filmmaker Bruce Bickford, and Alice Cooper, whom Zappa signed to his record label) and most crucially, his widow and guardian of the Zappa Family Trust, Gail Zappa, who herself passed away in 2015 at the age of 70. 

Winter, and therefore, we the audience, are also given access to a startling amount of previously unreleased visual and musical material from Zappa's private and voluminous archival vault, inside of which seemingly every single thought Zappa possessed has been collected and conserved.

What Winter presents through this material is not necessarily a portrait of Zappa as a guitar hero, rock music satirist, bad boy provocateur, political activist, social critic or even an album by album narrative chronology, although aspects of all of those areas and more are present. What we do have with "Zappa" is a compelling, often riveting and surprisingly emotional portrait of a staggeringly self taught, ferociously inventive, restlessly creative soul whose intense pursuit of perfection was his life's driving force, for better or for worse. 

A man of contradictions, Frank Zappa's life was one that Ruth Underwood describes as "a polarity of passions." While at his Laurel Canyon compound with Gail and their four children, he wrote and recorded constantly, tirelessly and at times at the expense of being anything resembling a family man. In fact, Zappa's surprise hit song "Valley Girl," which featured the now iconic vocals by his daughter Moon Unit Zappa, came into being via a note Moon Unit slipped under the studio door with the words, "Remember me?" According to Underwood, while at home, Zappa itched to return to the road (which of course, included the rock star life and "occupational hazards of groupies) yet while on the road, he was anxious to return to the safety and sanctuary of home. 

Although Zappa existed as a member of the counter culture, providing commentary both incredulous and intolerant of the mainstream culture, he also did not represent the counter culture stereotype to a large degree, most notably his personal rejection of the drug culture. While willing to appear upon television programs, including a 1978 stint on the counter culture turned juggernaut variety show "Saturday Night Live," his disdain for the medium in its entirety was more than apparent. 

As an artist and bandleader, Zappa was a figure who attracted like minded artists and musicians yet his aloof nature and uncompromising demands alienated many. To that end, his single minded desire to hear the music that he heard in his head, which he composed by hand, be performed to absolute perfection found itself to the point where he eschewed working with the imperfections of human beings altogether. Seemingly computers and synthesizers were the only way to having his work realized with no mistakes plus always keeping up to speed with his relentless work ethic. 

And then, there is the music itself and Zappa's unshakable reputation as a rock satirist and guitar playing behemoth who often submerged himself in all matters profane, vulgar, sophomoric and scatological. Winter shows that as Zappa clearly embraced that role, the film questions if that particular musical route was itself a means to an end as perhaps what Zappa really wished to achieve and build his reputation upon was to become a serious orchestral composer, but that genre of music just happens to not pay the bills. Winter ponders if Zappa maybe found himself famous for the wrong reasons and therefore, any sense of creative misanthropy was fueled by not ever being as appreciated as he may have wished. 

Alex Winter's ability to take this mountain of the material that cultivated the life of Frank Zappa and distill it into these fascinating moments in which Zappa's eyes reveal more than he ever expressed openly are truly remarkable. 

A section of the film set in the early 1970's after Zappa was attacked and thrown from the stage by a crazed fan, leaving him unable to walk and in a state of convalescence for a  year was more than telling. We can see the frustration in his eyes when faced with his body forced into stasis when his mind was racing. We can see the anger and seething contempt in his face during a television interview at a point when Zappa was recording his work with the London Symphony Orchestra, a seemingly bizarre "stunt" for a rock star when the pursuit was undeniably genuine. And most definitely and poignantly, near the end of his life, during interviews and after a triumphant live performance with the Ensemble Modern featuring himself as conductor, with cancer rapidly doing its irreversible damage, just regard Zappa's eyes. They say everything and it is honestly moving to regard, especially from a figure who always felt to be so impenetrable and even unknowable.  

In many ways, I think it would be nearly impossible for solely one film to fully encapsulate the vast reaches of Frank Zappa's life, just as the music he composed far outstretched any one genre. In fact, I would highly recommend that this film be viewed in combination with Director Thorsten Schutte's excellent documentary "Eat That Question: Frank Zappa In His Own Words" (2016) in order to paint a wider, more comprehensive picture of its subject. 

In some ways, Winter is perhaps could have added more and is also perhaps a little too reverential. With regards to Zappa's actual music, I had wished that more of it was featured in full--a more "show don't tell" approach, so that viewers unfamiliar could really gather a sense of the sweep, dynamism, unpredictability and sheer innovation in Zappa's amalgamation of classical, doo wop, R&B, rock, jazz, funk, music concrete and whatever else appealed to his sonic display that allowed his music to defy categorization in everything other than his own name. 

Additionally, there is the nature of his lyrical content, which often ranged from schoolboy locker room puerile to overt sexism and how they relate to satire as well as his fans and detractors, and to be fair Winter glosses over that aspect considerably--but also to be fair, that topic could exist as another full length documentary film as there is a tremendous amount to unpack. Extending even further from the concept of controversial material, I actually did not appreciate how Winter essentially made Frank Zappa a lone noble hero in the fight against censorship when related to his Congressional appearances decrying the movement of the PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center) as both Twisted Sister's Dee Snider, and of all people, the late John Denver spoke out against that organization and their efforts.  

All of that being said, what Alex Winter has accomplished is remarkable, especially considering the sheer amount of material he had to work with from Zappa's personal vaults, a hideaway that I think that only Prince could rival. Speaking of Prince, Winter's film gave us a rarefied view into a certain type of artistic personality that is also of a rare quality. That ability to create and cultivate a vision inside of which one is able to essentially invent their own musical language and then to possess the uncanny ability to discover the very individuals who just may be able to help realize it. We have seen this quality in Prince as well as Miles Davis and the presence of Frank Zappa within this specific collective is essential, as his skills far extended from composing into the larger arenas of filmmaking, independent business and politics...and he was uncompromising in every conceivable aspect, to all benefits and detriments.  

It feels so fitting that Frank Zappa spent his formative years being fascinated with editing and explosives, as he loved creating his own Super 8 films and editing family home movies as much as he enjoyed deriving violent chemical reactions. 

Construction and Deconstruction, indeed. 

For this was indeed the quality of his entire output, of which we are still exploring its contents. His ability to be inspired by Edgard Varese and Johnny "Guitar" Watson, and to merge these influences into something so combustible that he was deconstructing what we thought about music while he was simultaneously constructing a sound we had never heard before. Alex Winter's "Zappa" illustrates how this most idiosyncratic of artists was a slave to his muse and inner ear, composing and performing music for himself, making the presence of others people a double edged sword of necessity and nuisance, which so often seemed to bring about stages of malcontent and possibly even some inner suffering due to being faces with obstacles that were outside of his much desired sense of control. 

Maybe that is why the film's final sections, during which his final live appearance received a 20 minute ovation, became as moving as they were for me, as well as surprising as he would allow them to be visually documented. To achieve and to fail. To reach that brass ring only to not have control over time and mortality itself despite his own desires. 

Again, it was all in his eyes and Alex Winter's "Zappa" allows us to look into and through them captivatingly. 

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR DECEMBER 2020

To be continued...

With the movies, this entire year, almost, has been nothing but one extended cliffhanger due to the on- going pandemic. Even though theaters have essentially re-opened to a degree, I know that all of them have not in my city--and this sadly includes the second run theater Market Square, which has transformed itself into my city's only theater to really offer independent films--and to that end, I have not set foot inside of a theater since February.

Yes, I miss it. So very much.

And in some ways, I haven't had the mental space to fully engage with how much I have missed going to the movies as my brain has been overflowing with worry, stress and anxiety, just as I am more than certain that it has for all of you...and it is just exhausting. 

Additionally, I haven't watched that many movies either, even though there are more than enough titles for me to peruse at home via the streaming services that I have subscribed to. Again, this is more than due to that aforementioned mental fatigue as well as time as my real world life as a preschool teacher is busier and more stressful than during the pre-COVID times. 

Just this past week, Warner Brothers announced that it will now have its entire 2021 release slate go to streaming services as well as arrive in theaters, which some have seen as a death knell for the movie theater industry. I am not that fearful...yet. Now that there are vaccines on the horizon, I wish to see where that will take us as a society. In defense of Warner Brothers, they have made a business decision which I do think is a smart one as the coronavirus is still with us with a vengeance and the future of it is still so unknown, even with the forthcoming vaccines. I wouldn't count movie theaters out just yet and I really think that once the world is safer, people will be just itching for a night out at the movies again.

I try to remain hopeful. I am choosing to be hopeful.

The experience of spending time in the dark with a roomful of strangers all sharing the experience of cinematic storytelling is unlike anything else to me, so much so that it is sacred. I need to believe that one day, I will again purchase a ticket, get some popcorn, find my seat and and immerse myself in sight and sound. But for now, I have to be patient as well as take the proper precautions.

And then, there is Savage Cinema, which has remained vital all year long and I am hoping that even with a slower pace, it will remain steadfast with new material arriving each month from me to you.  I have you to thank for this site's continued existence and I ask of you to keep doing your part so that we can go to the theater together again.

Please wear your masks, wash your hands and keep a safe physical distance.

Let's all work together to ensure 2021 is not the worst sequel ever made for no one on the planet wants "2020 Part 2."

ROAD TRIP: a review of "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things"

"I'M THINKING OF ENDING THINGS"
Based upon the novel by Iain Reid
Written and Directed by Charlie Kaufman
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED R 

"...We're just two lost souls 
Swimming in a fishbowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here..."
-music and lyrics by Roger Waters
Pink Floyd "Wish You Were Here"

At this stage, it is becoming even more difficult to offer a review of a Charlie Kaufman experience. 

From his spectacularly audacious full arrival to our cinematic consciousness with Spike Jonze's "Being John Malkovich" (1999) and "Adaptation" (2002), Kaufman proved himself to  being an unapologetically, unrepentantly inventive writer, whose restlessly idiosyncratic stories defied categorization and presented cinematic universes unlike anything else we had seen with its regards to their rabbit hole journeys into our the multi-levels of our mental states, collective consciousnesses, personalities, and identities. And they were astoundingly comical as t hey turned what we felt the movies could be inside out and back again.  

With Michel Gondry's "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless" (2004), Kaufman extended his reach into a larger and poignant emotional territory as he utilized the format of a break-up story combined with his mind bending aesthetic to explore the notions of the necessity of painful memoires being as essential as the pleasurable memories, as they each serve their crucial roles in building up the completeness of our personalities and possibly, our souls. Through its purity of originality and empathy, it was the finest love story of that cinematic decade for me. 

Yet, the pinnacle was undoubtedly "Synecdoche, New York" (2008), Charlie Kaufman's directorial debut. One of my top ten favorites films of its decade, Kaufman delivered an unforgettable  masterpiece, of which I will delve into a tad more later in this posting. That being said, what I will offer at this time is that it was a film that boldly confronted our darkest worries and concerns in a fashion that forced viewers to think a bout the very concepts and themes that we rarely ever wish to think about due to their inherently disturbing, unsettling nature yet we need to in order to understand what it means to live and to die.

Since that period in Charlie Kaufman's career, his work has arrived more sporadically and while so welcomed when it does choose to arrive, it is a challenge as the work in question has grown only more confounding while also beginning to carry a certain weight of familiarity. With "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things," his first film in five years and his adaptation on the Iain Reid novel, Charlie Kaufman has realized a work that is no less original, demanding, challenging and as inscrutable as his previous efforts. But there is a degree of "been there-done that" to the proceedings, which, in pure Kaufman-esque fashion, may precisely exist as a knowing part of the overall design, which would then add an extra layer. 

"I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" stars as an unnamed young woman (Jessie Buckley) who is in the throes of wondering the concept of the film's title with regards to her boyfriend of a few short weeks named Jake (Jesse Plemons). As she ponders the potential demise of their relationship, she has accepted Jake's invitation to take a trip out of town to his parents' (David Thewlis and Toni Collette) farm for dinner. 

That is essentially the plot of the film and it certainly sounds simple. But, with anything that possesses Charlie Kaufman's name, we should expect to receive something that is not in the least bit simplistic. What Kaufman has delivered with "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" is another voyage deep into the recesses of our consciousness and sub consciousness, where our notions of individuality, personality, and identity exist, congeal and collide. It is a disturbing world where it feels like our private, and unspoken thoughts feel as if they can be overheard. Personality shifts spin upon a dime. Memories intertwine and blur, refusing to unwind and distinguish themselves from each other. Characters age forwards and backwards without warning. Disembodied voices are heard, as well as mysterious phone calls are received. And the full, open revelations of one's truest self, whether by oneself or via the words of another who knows you just as intimately, feel as intensely threatening as the a trap door in the floor just waiting to take you by surprise and swallow you whole. 

The film is divided into three (or possibly four) distinct sections: the long, snowy car drive to the farm, the night at the farm, the longer, snowier drive back home and a final detour or two where the film takes a swan dive into the surreal and the mournful. Throughout the entirety of the film, Kaufman, working seamlessly with Cinematographer Lukaasz Zal, Composer Jay Wadley and Editor Robert Frazen, establishes a constant state of unease, which then builds into dread and confusion, which then builds into a sense of realization, tragedy and funhouse mirror finality, all the while evoking the tone of a dream drifting closer and closer to nightmare. 

"I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" exists on such shifting sand that it is a miracle that any of the performances are effective at all and absolutely every one of them are excellent. Jessie Buckley exudes a superior grasp of the confounding proceedings, even as precarious as they are. David Thewlis and Toni Collette even moreso, as they each represent the passage of time, history and family dynamics. 

Yet, it is indeed Jesse Plemons, who resembles somewhat of a cross between Matt Damon and the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, who just astonishes in the role of Jake, a taciturn figure who is simultaneously steadfast and impossible to fully pin down. Plemons elicits timidity and shyness, earnestness and eagerness just as easily as a certain arrogance and insensitivity, intelligence, romanticism, optimism and darkness, and fully packaged in a character that is warm enough to understand why our unnamed heroine would date him but sinister enough to make us want to yowl at the screen, warning her to run away. 

As schizophrenic as all of this may sound, and actually is, Kaufman ensures the film itself advances with a consistently ominous atmosphere that suggests that nagging voice inside of our brains that alerts or torments us whenever we reach a certain fork in the road, that feeling we get that tells us to look over our shoulders for any oncoming danger even when we'd rather not, the pit in the stomach feeling that may reveal itself after we cross any emotional red lights. "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" exists at the precise point of decision/indecision and Charlie Kaufman is meticulously perceptive with the myriad of thoughts and viewpoints, both real and imagined, that arrive in those moments when the future is close enough to touch and the past is just that far behind. 

And even so, what it is all about?

Undeniably, it would be a given to think that anyone who views "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" would be left scratching their heads at best. Even further, I would not be surprised if some viewers would stop watching entirely due to its impenetrable nature and escalating voyage into the surreal. Well, and without delving into really any of the film's trajectories and specific sequences, here are the feelings the film inspired and therefore, left me with...

To me, Charlie Kaufman's "I'm Thinking Of Ending things" is a meditation on loneliness, regret, loss, delusions and ruminations upon choices not taken due to crippling self-confidence and the sense of self-loathing produced. It is a film where we are ensconced within the psychological terrain and trappings of interior spaces (a car, a house) and in turn, we, and the characters, are surrounded by history, memories, fears and ghosts of the very people that inhabited those spaces. The location of Jake's parents' farm house in fraught with the baggage of the lives that once existed within it, with the various rooms in the home housing the very crucial moments and experiences that ultimately give birth, evolution and death to the life of the environment itself. 

And then, from locations, Kaufman takes us back into the self as he illustrates how the iconography of our lives are all built upwards from the various elements of pop and art culture that speak to us, and we ultimately we consume and attach to our growing personas, all of which invents our individualized perceptions of self. Kaufman extends even deeper as he shows how our personalities and personas are also influenced and created by every single person that has contributed to our lives, and so, we in turn for everyone else. Family, friends, acquaintances, influential members of our respective communities and even further than that, this includes everyone who literally does not exist in the material world. Characters from fiction, certainly. The perceptions that we invent about people, most definitely.  

With "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things," show tunes, the film reviews of Pauline Kael and the final sequence of Ron Howard's "A Beautiful Mind" (2001) carry an equal weight to farm animal tragedies, a Dairy Queen-esque ice cream shop, custodian uniforms in the laundry and the death stares from the eternal disdain of pretty high school girls. Personalities and identities shift and alter to the degree that we are forced to question if what we are viewing is a duet or a monologue. And if it is either, is it external or internal? Is it taking place in a snap of a moment or over the full duration of a life? The heavy mental lifting is entirely up to us.

And even so, we have all been here before.

For me, the film trajectory of Charlie Kaufman has possessed a fully idiosyncratic evolution. Certainly, as we were wholly unfamiliar with a creative voice like his, the early films represented a certain excitement as it was a voice so foreign. We could view precisely how "Being John Malkovich" led to "Adaptation," built upwards to "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind" and then, reaching the pinnacle with "Synecdoche, New York." As  I have previously written upon this site, I once had a friend who worked at a local, and now defunct video store, who loved "Synecdoche, New York" so completely and felt it to exhibit such perfection and completeness that he wished that Charlie Kaufman did not ever make another film again...for where else could he venture as he seemingly said EVERYTHING in that film? 

Since "Synecdoche, New York," Kaufman has only helmed two films, the animated "Anomalisa" (2015) and the film I am writing about at this time. In some ways, Kaufman has perhaps proved my old video store clerk friend correct. In a sense, there is absolutely nothing here in "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" that we have not seen before...and to that end, even better. This is not to say that there is anything necessarily wrong with this new film, especially as I am giving it high praise overall. But, there is something lacking in the cumulative effect that has not happened in previous Kaufman movies. The earlier films are unforgettable. "Synecdoche, New York," in particular, is profoundly, devastatingly haunting. "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things," however, I haven't thought about terribly much at all since having seen it and I doubt that I would even revisit it. Not for any lack of quality but solely due to the impression I have that, again, Kaufman has travelled this road many times before and now it is decidedly less compelling.

All of Charlie Kaufman's cinematic efforts built up to "Synecdoche, New York" and now, everything after currently lives within that film's shadow. Even so, this sense of deterioration is baked fully into the Charlie Kaufman cake, so to speak, as all of his film to various degrees speak directly to the quandary of living and the disappointment that arrives with aging and mortality, regardless of the clichés we all tell ourselves in order to just keep placing one foot in front of the other as we constantly devise ways to justify our existence. 

Charlie Kaufman more than understands this existential crisis and therefore, weaves it directly into the narrative and now, even into his life as an artist, where his grasp of his gifts will one day leave him due to anything from lack of inspiration to mortality. And so, being as perceptive as he clearly is, it almost makes his films critic-proof, as any perceived shortcomings from viewers feel less like criticisms and more like acknowledgements of the inevitable. 

Yes, indeed a talent like Charlie Kaufman's has more than earned and deserves our celebration, due to his creativity and utter refusal to dumb even one iota down to fit into the masses' collective lowest common denominator leanings. But, there is indeed a fine line between labyrinthine storytelling and thumbing through a copy of the American Psychiatric Association's DMS 5 manual and attaching the traces of a plot to a disorder. Charlie Kaufman's "I'm Thinking Of Ending Things" is an enigma, often magnetic in its power while also keeping us just this far out of reach. 

SAVAGE CINEMA REVISITS: "THE SECRET CINEMA" (1966)

"THE SECRET CINEMA"

A Paranoid Fantasy
Written and Directed by Paul Bartel

Dedicated to Liz Sellers, the one who found what was once so long lost... 

I remember when I first saw Peter Weir's "The Truman Show" (1998), his wonderful satirical, science fiction tinged, psychological thriller about an ordinary man named Truman (a terrific Jim Carrey), living a seemingly ordinary life yet unbeknownst to him, his entire life has been a manufactured product, scripted, directed and broadcast to the nation on television. In addition to marveling at the film, which may have been one of my personal favorites of that cinematic year, what I remember the most was a very distant movie memory that I had long forgotten but was undeniably triggered by Weir's film.

I could not remember the title of the film in my memory. Not even one word of it. But I had this vague recollection of a film about a woman who discovers that she is being covertly filmed, with sequences of her life being screened in a movie theater without her knowledge. I vividly remembered where I had seen such a movie as it was a short feature that occasionally aired between feature films on the long defunct Chicago area pay TV channel called "ON TV," a pay service that existed in lieu of cable television as the city of Chicago during those years in the early 1980's had not been wired for that television technology.

Anyhow, it was a film that I had always stumbled upon as it was never in the schedule. It always took me by surprise, and I consistently found myself captivated by its sheer strangeness. And so, as mysteriously as it entered my life, it vanished from ON TV, and well...life happened and I never saw it again or even thought about it until seeing "The Truman Show." From that point, the mysterious movie lingered deeply within my sub-consciousness, emerging here and there as a "Hey...what was that movie I saw?" moment in time that would evaporate as randomly as it appeared.   

Until last week...

Once again, and with no knowledge of how the memory had once again been prompted, I recalled the mysterious movie and this time, I was sitting at the very computer at which I am currently writing to you. I did a few minor Google searches with key words and came up with nothing. Before heading to bed, I wrote a quick Facebook post, primarily directed towards my Chicago friend with whom I grew up, if they had any recollections. 

By morning, my friend, the amazing Liz Sellers, whom I have known since childhood, had the answer...

"The Secret Cinema."

After reading her message, I quickly looked up the title, and then the film itself upon You Tube and yes indeed...the memories and the movie all flooded back perfectly, in all of its strangeness of vision and execution. And now, having made a full reunion, but now seeing it through adult eyes and within an extremely turbulent 21st century context, it is amazing how the power of this short not only remains and has reverberated through time, it has only increased in its deliverance of the surreal. So much so, that it feels to serve as a societal warning rather than the paranoid fantasy of which it describes itself.

"The Secret Cinema" stars Amy Vane as Jane, the film's hapless ingenue, who works as a secretary who, as the film begins, is constantly being sexually harassed by her boss, the portly Mr. Troppogrosso (Gordon Felio). Upon relinquishing herself of that humiliation, Jane quickly faces another as her boyfriend Dick (Phillip Carson) dumps her proclaiming that he never loved her and furthermore, his only love is (cryptically stated)...the movies. 

The following day, a plot to return Jane to Dick's good favors is hatched by her best friend Helen (Connie Ellison) who suggests that Jane accept a date with the "jet setty" Mr. Troppogrosso to a local discotheque that Dick frequents as a means to ultimately make him jealous, thus inspiring him to want Jane back. As Jane mulls over this prospect, and also endures a stressful lunch date with her Mother (Estelle Omens), Jane is subjected to strange moments and disturbing clues that something out of her control is amiss, from discarded tickets stubs to whisperings of a secret movie being screened starring a "dumb girl" who has no idea that she is being filmed who continuously says "dumb, funny things." 

All of the seemingly disparate elements come together as Jane gradually discovers the truth about her increasingly surreal world in which she is the star and unsuspecting victim.

Paul Bartels' "The Secret Cinema," first and foremost, is precisely as it is self-described: a paranoid fantasy in which the life of Jane ventures through the looking glass into a new reality that calls everything she once knew to be true and valid utterly false. While Bartels has made a playful film, its overall sinister nature combined with its whimsy and satire makes it an even ore unsettling tale this shy of something we might view upon "The Twilight Zone." 

There is not a moment, during which Jane, and therefore, we in the audience, are not thrown off balance, and that even incudes when we may be privy to information that Jane is not, simply because Bartels is playing with our own sense of reality just as his characters are playing with Jane's.

From the film noir-ish black and white Cinematography by Fred Wellington, the boisterous film score which veers from Chaplin-esque whimsy to darkly melodramatic, scenes that feature disembodied laughter, the appearance of Mimi Randolph who surfaces in three different roles (as a waitress, movie theater ticket seller, and a nurse, respectively) to lightly antagonize an otherwise clueless Jane, the slightly out-of-sync dubbing of voices to their visual images, moments of betrayal from trusted sources and not one but two twist endings, Bartels creates an experience that feels like a fever dream edging just this close to paralyzing nightmare. And yet, "The Secret Cinema" remains a comedy, just funny enough to keep you chuckling throughout so as to not otherwise feel as if you have fallen into a David Lynch film.  

To achieve this level of a cinematic balancing act so effectively is first-rate, most especially one that is just shy of being only 30 minutes in duration. Seeing this film now as an adult, I was amazed to realize that I remained as captivated as I remember being when I was a pre-teen. It is a creepy kind of film, albeit an inviting one with an unsettling feeling was appropriately paramount and magnetic--you really can't turn away from it. 

But seeing it now through adult eyes made me take note of Paul Bartels' subversive tactics, as he sneakily sprinkles elements (homosexuality and sexual fetishes, for instance) into the film without making major announcements, which also contributes to the film's overall dream-like nature and our own precarious self-perceptions about our own sense of self-worth, acceptance popularity and unending fear of rejection or being forever placed upon the outside looking inwards to our own lives. 

Which leads us to the increased power of "The Secret Cinema" and its themes of surveillance and the battle between our real and virtual lives within our social media driven 21st century. The sense of fantasy at work in the film circa 1966 has steadily advanced towards a larger reality in 2020, as so much of our lives are played out virtually as much as realistically, if not moreso as we are constantly cultivating our on-line personas, no matter how "real" we are wishing that we are presenting ourselves.

 

With the prevalence of our camera phones and our need to document and therefore, present and re-contextualize our lives visually, it is as if we have willingly ventured into the television and movie screens creating our continuous "reality shows" unlike Jane, who is valiantly attempting to keep herself in one reality rather than having it splintered into several for consumption and ultimately, judgment. 

This quandary certainly sets up a new and ever sifting balance of power and control for who is really controlling the image and who has the power to create the personas and lives lived, whether real or virtual? 

Who knows how far Paul Bartels envisioned our lives in front of and behind camera lenses would travel, if at all, back in 1966. Yet, with his character of Jane, it could be pondered that he may have worried a bit about how far, as a culture, would we venture for entertainment and acceptance and how much of ourselves would we be willing to have taken, or even give away, just to see ourselves at all larger than life.    

Or I am just over thinking all of this and I should take it at face value and just be happy with the fact that I have reunited with a movie that has gently haunted me for decades. I sincerely invite you to look up the film, which is still available upon You Tube in its entirety, and screen it for yourselves. 

And when you do immerse yourself in Jane's odyssey, let me know what you thought when you emerge on the other side.

SAVAGE CINEMA TIME CAPSULE: TOP 50 FAVORITE MOVIES FROM 2010-2019: THE TOP TEN!!

Finally!!! 

This installment, the final section of my series compiling my top 50- favorite films (plus a few extra) from the decade of 2010-2019, is at long last at its conclusion as I will now bring you my personal Top Ten! I honestly did not intend to have this series, which I began in the Spring, to have extended itself for this lengthy duration of time. But, with time, as it relates to life during COVID-19, becoming more elastic than normal to say the least, the months passed by in a flash and here we are in November. So, ensuring that the word did not turn to 2021 before I knew it, I am prioritizing this completion.

As always, these are just my opinions and I will post where you may find the full, complete review for each film. Are you ready?

10. "THE SOCIAL NETWORK" DIRECTED BY DAVID FINCHER (2010)
First of all, this is not a film about Facebook. David Fincher's increasingly prescient film that surrounds itself around the creation of Facebook is a film about inspiration, innovation and imagination as well as it is a film about class warfare, race and racism, toxic masculinity, lost innocence, and the pursuit and wielding of emerging power, as filtered through the persona of Mark Zuckerberg (a brilliantly serpentine Jesse Eisenberg) during his Harvard set college years.

Secondly, this is a movie about Facebook, or rather the technological sea change that birthed our still increasing and simultaneous devotion and repulsion of the social media landscape. Structured as a hybrid between a series of Rashomon styled court depositions and Orson Wells "Citizen Kane" (1941), Fincher, aided superbly by Aaron Sorkin's whirlwind, mammoth screenplay and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' debut and Oscar winning film score, cultivates what amounts to a societal warning. To think, the idea of a virtual means to connect and re-connect with other human beings yet was actually created as a means to humiliate women does seem to serve our cultural quandary exceedingly well. The battle between our real and virtual lives and the toll it has taken upon our social core is nothing less than a plea for us to not relinquish our sense of humanity in favor of the instant, yet fleeting, gratification of synthetic rewards and our ensuing addiction to those rewards for what good is feigning inter-connectivity at the expense of our own souls? 

This film is a powerful, still prophetic dark epic about our primal need for acceptance, validation, approval, understanding and empathy...and the lengths to which we will venture to attain it. By forcing us to confront our own instincts with his portrait of Zuckerberg, Fincher never lets us off of the hook.    

(Originally reviewed October 2010)

9. "BLACK SWAN" DIRECTED BY DARREN ARONOFSKY (2010)

In her undeniably deserved Oscar winning performance, Natalie Portman raised her own creative bar by taking herself and all of us on a swan dive into Hell in this astounding psychological thriller set within the unforgiving dance world of professional Ballet Theater. 

As the aging dancer Nina Sayers, who in her desire to attain the coveted dual role of "The Swan Princess/The Black Swan" in her company's production of "Swan Lake," we witness an obsessive quest for ultimate perfection and all inherent confrontations towards realizing her dreams. From the jealous wrath of her peers, the pleasing of her imposing and sexually lascivious Choreographer (an excellent Vincent Cassell), intense competition and fear of replacement from a new dancer (a magnetic Mila Kunis) who exudes greater confidence and sexual energy, the suffocating presence of her Mother and failed former dancer (Barbara Hershey) and the punishing physical demands of her chosen profession and art. Yet, even all of that does not compare to the demons in her mind and her splintering psyche as she desperately attempts to "let go" and tap into her darkest tendencies in order to fully embody the role of "The Black Swan." 
  

Aronosfky has unleashed a superior, hallucinogenic experience, filled with labyrinthine visual and aural juxtapositions, most notably, the motif of mirrors, to insert us directly inside of Nina's fragile mind, allowing us to see and hear only what she experiences and the effect is harrowing. But his cinematic touches would not be enough if not for the performance of Natalie Portman who does indeed "let go" (in a way she previously hadn't, to my perceptions), to the degree that she delivered nothing less than the opera for our nightmares. 

(Originally reviewed January 2011)

8. "SORRY TO BOTHER YOU" DIRECTED BY BOOTS RILEY (2018)

One of the decade's most fearless, incendiary and nearly unclassifiable films was Writer/Director Boots Riley's debut feature, a dense, disturbing satire that fused elements of comedy, science fiction/horror and magical realism together weaving the dark spell of a cinematic bad dream from which our film's hero is unable to awake.

The odyssey of Cassius Green (the terrific Lakeith Stanfield), during which he discovers his "White voice" in order to propel himself up the telemarketing corporate ladder, hurls him and the audience into a tale that openly confronts the brutal dehumanization of capitalism and cultural appropriation, the subjugation and abuse of workers and of the act of passivity itself, which threatens to leave one trapped within a world they never made. Yet, for all of the deadly serious commentary, it is a playful film (although one packed with razor blades), that delivers wildly colorful and inventive perspectives with color schemes, costume design, cinematography, music as well as with the performances and Riley's unrepentant storytelling which flies face first into a surreal plot development that you will either fully accept or not (I thought it was ingenious) with a madhouse fury.

"Sorry To Bother You" is a film overflowing with vehement surprises that batter and bruise and is also a testament to the unfiltered creativity, imagination and originality that we so rarely even see anymore in our cinematic landscape of sequels, prequels, remakes and theme park rides masquerading as movies. Boots Riley's staggering confidence and tenacity produced a film experience unlike most and to which at the screening I attended, inspired one patron to loudly announce once the film concluded, an incredulous "JE-SUS!!" and I myself stood in the theater hallway afterwards wondering just what in the hell I had even seen! 

(Originally reviewed July 2018)

7.  "SEEKING A FRIEND FOR THE END OF THE WORLD"  DIRECTED BY LORENE SCAFARIA (2012)

Essentially ignored upon its initial release (it played in my city for two short weeks before it completely vanished), this beautiful, aching, existential apocalyptic comedy, in which a 70 mile wide asteroid is headed for a direct hit to planet Earth ensuring the world's annihilation in three weeks was, and remains, one of the decade's most striking, heartbreaking and memorable films I saw, despite it being so sadly undervalued.

Starring a wonderful Steve Carrell (demonstrating a depth reminiscent to William Hurt or Jack Lemmon) and a dazzling Keira Knightley (fully liberated from period dramas) as neighbors, previously unfamiliar to each other, who join forces to navigate their final 21 days on Earth together (he to re-connect with a lost love, she to somehow find a plane back to her family in England) showcased Lorene Scafaria's masterful sense of tone and empathy via a knife's edge of concepts and styles from satire, thriller, poetry and romantic comedy in a superbly unpredictable fashion while helming a story aiming for a horrifically predictable conclusion. 

I absolutely loved how Scafaria never let the audience off of the hook, so to speak. As her luxurious dialogue, sumptuous character development, building romance between our leading characters and often outrageous humor makes for an invitingly congenial experience, she upends you over and again with shocking  yet skillful tonal shifts that always remind you that the world will come to an end and there is no getting out of it, keeping us all off balance as we, from characters to viewers, ponder existence and mortality. 

"Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World," while often being a grim comedy of manners, is ultimately a warm experience that eloquently presents in a realistic fashion of what humanity ight look like is faced with is impending end. Hedonism, violence, despair and survivalism are as present as people still showing up for work and continuing to mow their lawns (one of the film's finest and most poignant images) for no other reason that we are just programmed to live our lives, makes Scafaria's vision so, well...life affirming. And the film's final moments, where two people finding the significance in each other and themselves just as the universe is set to render them and all living things insignificant is unforgettable.

And even more, I will never hear Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass' "The Guy Is In Love With You" or The Hollies' "The Air That I Breathe" in the same way ever again.     

(Originally reviewed July 2012)

6. "DJANGO UNCHAINED"  DIRECTED BY QUENTIN TARANTINO (2012)

One of our most original, innovative and unrepentantly fearless filmmakers emerged with possibly his most audacious project, and unquestionably, the one with his most openly presented moral outrage.

Quentin Tarantino's three hour epic chronicling the odyssey of the titular Django (a titanic Jamie Foxx) from slave to bounty hunter to slave emancipator as he attempts to find and free his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from the plantation compound of Candyland as owned and operated by Calvin J. Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), was an outstanding masterpiece of cinematic revisionist history and genre splicing as he magnificently merged the slave narrative, Spaghetti Westerns, 1970's Blaxploitation films, a condemnation of the Hollywood slave opera and even German folktales into a sumptuously filmed and exceedingly, peerlessly written and constructed experience.

For all of the razzle dazzle, Tarantino ensures that the most important, crucial element of the film remains painfully intact, the unforgivable inhumanity of slavery. Unlike most Hollywood filmmakers who are afraid to get their hands dirty or are fearful of making potential audiences uncomfortable, Quentin Tarantino, by contrast, takes us to the wall in all of slavery's brutality, from abusive language to sadistic deeds, culminating in the full, complete and punishing catharsis of Django's unrelenting retribution. 

Yes, much of what we experience within a film like this one is cinematic fantasy but it is wrapped in the reprehensible realities of what slavery was, the African-American Holocaust. where the painfulness and deliverance operated at its most primal. And to that end, Quentin Tarantino utilized the truth of our nation's original sin, and again proved why he is one of most original cinematic storytellers.  

(Originally reviewed December 2012)

5. "GET OUT"  DIRECTED BY JORDAN PEELE (2017)

A film so ingenious that I was stunned that it had not been made sooner, and now that it has been made, it has invented its own cinematic line in the sand, influencing all that will arrive afterwards.

Jordan Peele's masterful debut, in which a young, Black photographer (a richly haunted Daniel Kaluuya) travels to visit the parents of his White girlfriend to terrifying results, completely upended and re-invented the horror genre by unapologetically making the nightmare of "post racial"/post Obama 21st century Americans as filtered through the Black experience the engine in which our story, and therefore, the horror developed and existed, making this film even more potent three years after its original release.

After multiple viewings, I am still amazed and slack jawed at how brilliantly Peele realized and controlled his vision, even when the film flies into its viciously surreal final third. For he never lets his eye off of the cinematic ball, so to speak. That the nightmare of "Get Out" is the nightmare African-Americans face each and every single day living in White America to varying degrees from the prevalence of daily micro-aggressions and undeserved suspicions which rightfully create paranoia to the rise of overt and rampant racism of police brutality and open-season styled hunting and murders of Black people by Whites who "feel threatened," all of which exacerbates the fear, incites the necessity for resistance and/or the submergence into "The Sunken Place" (itself a term now added to our lexicon when discussing race in reality as much as it is in pop culture). 

Jordan Peele's "Get Out" is an honest and unmercifully creative work that fearlessly confronts White privilege, cultural appropriation, enslavement, eradication and emancipation with rapacious satire and the very moral outrage and catharsis that fully validates the on-going racial trauma that exists for Black people in White society.          

(Originally reviewed March 2017)

4. "THE LOBSTER"  DIRECTED BY YORGOS LANTHIMOS (2016)

Breathing the same rarefied cinematic air as the likes of Terry Gilliam's "Brazil" (1985) and Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche, New York" (2008), Yorgos Lanthimos' debut English language feature film is a work of palpable existential quicksand filtered through a dystopian future that feels like a Wes Anderson film as filtered through the eyes of Stanley Kubrick. It is one of the decade's most singular, downright original films of which the response will not capture anything within the middleground. You will go with it or you just won't and Lanthimos is resolute and defiant in his unforgiving vision. 

The story, set in an undetermined future during which single people are deemed to check into the Kafka-esque location known only as The Hotel and are given a duration of 45 days to find a lifetime romantic partner or otherwise be transformed into an animal, is a brutal satire about loneliness and the societal constructs of single vs. married people. Lanthimos gives us a world where bisexuality is no longer a viable sexual choice, masturbation is illegal, relationships are forged through matching physical ailments and not through honest attraction and emotinal connections, and singledom for males represents a life doomed to die alone after choking upon a meal while for women, it means they are destined to being raped solely because they have not become attached to the right man.

Colin Farrell elicits one of his most committed performances as a newly unmarried man forced to check into The Hotel and experience an odyssey that will propel him through his current lodgings, a stint with a band of renegades known as "The Loners," the threat of the Orwellian landscape The City and an emotionally white knuckle conclusion where he confronts whether love is truly blind. Lanthimos envisions his film through a nightmare logic as visualized through meticulously designed and framed visual perspectives, repetitive classical music that only grows increasingly sinister, cold and detached atmospherics...and somehow, it is a comedy.

A comedy where the honesty and fragility of the emotional human experience has been drowned in the bathtub.       

(Originally reviewed June 2016)

3. "MELANCHOLIA"  DIRECTED BY LARS VON TRIER (2011)

And this is how the world ends...

The second film upon this list to envision our annihilation is one of the decade's furthest reaching films and for me, serves as a dark twin to the film that will sit just one notch above this one. Lars' Von Trier's devastating masterpiece, which is divided into two distinct halves, stars Kirsten Dunst, in one of her gravest, bristling performances as a woman, undone by crippling depression, destroys her own oppressively opulent wedding and afterwards, takes up a convalescence at her sister's (Charlotte Gainsbourg). Meanwhile, a newly discovered blue planet named Melancholia is on course towards Earth for a presumably wondrous astronomical event, when it is actually doomed to obliviate our planet. 

From the apocalyptic imagery of the eight minute, Wagner scored prologue, to the chilling performances, the terrifying thriller aspect of the film's second half as Melancholia approaches, and the final scenes which left me in stunned silence, Lars Von Trier's nihilistic and empathetic exploration of the human experience and humanity's downfall can be taken both at face value or fully as a metaphor for the excruciating, planet crushing pain of depression, where the end of all existence may indeed bring on a calming effect of sweet relief.

Absolutely unforgettable. 

(Originally reviewed December 2011)

2. "THE TREE OF LIFE"  DIRECTED BY TERENCE MALICK  (2011)

Terrence Malick's esoteric, elegant exploration of essentially life, the universe and well...everything was a majestic work of art with a capital "A," "R," "T," yet it was also simultaneously primal in its sheer profundity. 

While the bulk of the film centers around the birth, evolution, tension and destruction of a Texas family in the 1950's, which Malick covers with piercing intimacy and poetic grace notes, he surrounds that personal story with an imagining of the beginning and end of the universe itself, complete with intergalactic extravagances and prehistoric musings starring dinosaurs. Yes, this film was certainly confusing and confounding to many viewers. But trust me, what I really believe Malick has accomplished was to utilize the the story of the universe and the story of the family to showcase the inter-connectivity that exists between all living things over all of time itself, making "The Tree Of Life" a film about the life cycle--meaning EVERY story of EVERY living organism.

Where Brad Pitt, as the patriarch, gave a performance of towering command and Jessica Chastain elicited supreme grace in her ethereal and nearly wordless performance as the matriarch, the true star of the film is Terrence Malick's cinematic palate which delivered a resplendent, rapturous work of sound and vision from its first frame to its last, where every image could exist as a still photograph, and streaks of sunlight look and feel like the hand of God.  

Mysterious and mystical, obtuse, cryptic and demanding of some seriously heavy mental lifting, "The Tree Of Life" is not a film where you can be remotely passive. It is a film designed to engage you with pondering the meaning of it all and Malick's vision is enthralling. 

(Originally reviewed June 2011)

1. "BOYHOOD"  DIRECTED BY RICHARD LINKLATER (2014)

Exactly like how Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" (2000) sat at the very top of my list for my favorite films of the decade from 2000-2009, the placement of this film at the very top of this list was my easiest choice of all. In fact, I knew right away and I juts had to work myself backwards as the ambition, majesty and sheer heart of this completely unique film experience stood taller than all others over these past ten years. 

Filmed in piecemeal over a period of twelve years, Richard Linklater's finest cinematic achievement in his illustrious and idiosyncratic career, exists essentially without a plot as we follow the life and times of Mason (exquisitely portrayed by Ellar Coltrane), from perhaps age 6 to all the way until his arrival at college, directly alongside his Mother (Patricia Arquette), sarcastic sister (Lorelei Linklater), and his Father (Ethan Hawke), long estranged from the family. Over three fully mesmerizing hours, the film follows the introspective Mason as he finds his way with his family, his friends, his loves, his experimentations, his expressions, his future and hoe he begins to interact with and view the world in which he co-exists.

Never at any point is there a moment that feels prefabricated or engineered. There is no hyperbole or manufactured drama. There are even no signals to the audience as to what year it happens to be for Mason, making the film flow like the passage of time itself. And of course, as previously stated, there is no real plot, as within our own real lives, our experiences are not scripted and designed to adhere to a pre-conceived follow through. It is a masterful achievement that Linklater has given to us as he asks of us to ruminate over the paths of our own lives just as we regard Mason's--and for those of you who happen to be parents, I believe the experience of watching this film must be something nearly inexplicable as you will be able to regard yourselves and your children along with Mason.

To that end, Linklater's "Boyhood" could have also been easily called, "Childhood," "Girlhood," "Motherhood," "Fatherhood," "Manhood" or "Womanhood" as absolutely ANY viewer from ANY walk of life can view this film and regard the passage of time over all of the film's characters, and therefore, Linklater truly has re-invented what it means when a film can be a "slice of life" to the point where the experience becomes relatively cosmic.

Philosophical, languid, engaging, overflowing with empathy, wisdom, a miraculous sense of time travel and a final moment that completely encapsulates the bittersweetness of simultaneous beginnings and endings, this film is a monument of absolute, transcendent truth and beauty because Richard Linklater's "Boyhood" is a film about what it means to be alive. 
(Originally reviewed August 2014)

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR NOVEMBER 2020

This is the only thing that matters right now.

November 3, 2020.

See you on the other side...