FLYING OFF OF THE RAINBOW BRIDGE: a review of "Thor: Love And Thunder"

"THOR: LOVE AND THUNDER"
Based upon the Marvel Comics series created by Jack Kirby, Stan Lee & Larry Lieber
Screenplay Written by Taika Waititi & Jennifer Kaytin Robinson
Directed by Taika Waititi
** 1/2 (two and a half stars)
RATED PG 13

When is it ever too much of a good thing?

With the ever continuing and expanding Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), that very question has been asked a myriad amount of times by now as the assembly line production of movies and television shows does beg to be inquired. I have gone through my varying feelings about the sheer amount of product that has emerged over these past 14 years and I have now grown accustomed to the serialized storytelling plus my still continued feelings that the Marvel output overall has been consistently good to great with some hiccups here and there. 

That being said, I am strongly feeling that while the television slate of the MCU, under the leadership of Producer Kevin Feige, has been thrilling, innovative and captivating, the motion pictures as of late have not shown the same consistency of attentive care and execution. Yes, the films are as ravishing as ever. But the actual storytelling and therefore, that emotional connection, which makes this series one you wish to keep returning to, is feeling rushed, strained and just existing to keep the Marvel pipeline surging ahead. Frankly, for me, after the majesty of Jon Watts' "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (2021), one of the very best the MCU has ever released, it is inexcusable to me to watch Marvel produce anything sub par. They can't go back, nor should they and when they do, it does force the question that opened this posting to be asked. 

Taika Waititi's  "Thor: Love And Thunder," or titular hero's fourth solo adventure and the MCU's 29th feature overall, is overflowing with artistic vision and one that carries an especially surprising Directorial personality in Waititi as the Marvel aesthetic has been emphasized more than a filmmaker's personal stamp. Even so, it was two exceedingly full hours of wild razzle dazzle, nonsense and Guns N' Roses that ultimately left me feeling underwhelmed to the point where I was curious if there even was a point to it other than commerce driven.  

When we last saw The God Of Thunder (again winningly played by Chris Hemsworth), he had boarded a starship alongside The Guardians Of The Galaxy (all of whom make an appearance) after the defeat of Thanos, resurrecting half of the universe in the process and bidding final farewells to Tony Stark, Natasha Ramonoff and Steve Rogers. Through these tumultuous life altering events, which had already endured the death of his Father, Odin, the destruction of Asgard and the creation of New Asgard upon  Earth with Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson) entrusted as the new King, our very own Thor feels soulfully wayward, as well as still nursing a broken heart from his breakup with Dr. Jane Foster (Natalie Portman).  

Meanwhile, certain doom has re-emerged, yet this time, in the form of Gorr The God Butcher (Christian Bale) and the arachnid styled demons of his dreaded Shadow Realm. Gorr, armed with the Necrosword, is intent upon murdering all of the Gods, even as he is cursed by the object. with New Asgard as his next target, Gorr apprehends all of the Asgardian children as bait for Thor, who clearly will need all of the assistance he can find for this battle...

...which includes...the return of Dr. Jane Foster, now as The Mighty Thor (not Lady Thor, thank you very much) armed with the mystical and thought to be forever destructed hammer Mjolnir.

Just as with Taika Waititi's resplendent "Thor: Ragnarok" (2017), "Thor: Love And Thunder" is an orgiastic display of rainbow colored drenched sound, fury and irreverence that proudly never takes itself too seriously, if at all, and is almost determined to try and see how far it can push the Marvel envelope without flying completely off of the Rainbow Bridge. But, boy does it come dangerously close.

Taika Waititi's puckish approach, so welcome and unexpected in "Raganarok," felt that somehow he snuck something past Feige's watchful overseeing MCU eye and in doing so, fully rejuvenated and repurposed a character that never entirely had itself settled as to how it could exist, despite Chris Hemsworth's absolutely perfect casting and clear enthusiasm for the role. "Ragnarok" found Hemsworth and Thor as their most comfortable, treading that very fine line between heroism, pathos and sheer ridiculousness that showcased Hemsworth's considerable abilities (most notably his terrific comedic touch) and broadened the dimensions of Thor himself, making him a character we would love to follow to the ends of the universe and beyond. 

With "Love And Thunder," Taika Waititi and Chris Hemsworth truly make a dream team as their sensibilities feel to line up perfectly as they each simultaneously honor and send up our hero to mischievously delicious delight. Additionally, Natalie Portman is clearly having a blast as both Dr. Jane Foster and as the hammer wielding Mighty Thor, just nailing a heretofore untapped charm as her Earthbound Scientist combined with an existential rise and despair, all the while battling foes with the best of our Asgardian heroes and heroines and ever seeking the perfect catchphrase for herself. The magnetic Tessa Thompson owns her role as the swaggering warrior King Valkyrie, making her union with both Hemsworth and Portman a veritable dream team. 

But...oh, if they were just given even more to do...  

While "Love And Thunder" more than indulges Taika Waititi's relentless imagination and stunning visual dynamism, which feels even more unfiltered with a story that sprawls itself from Earth all the way to Zeus's (a more than game Russell Crowe) Omnipresent City, Gorr's Shadow Realm and the ends of Eternity itself fueled by operatic and comedic overtones of romance, sexual friskiness and fluidity, and the dives into the ocean of love (to think, even Thor's axe Stormbreaker can feel pangs of jealousy). 

I deeply appreciated Waititi's restless urgency to seemingly try anything at all to keep those cinematic plates spinning vibrantly, rather than creating another anonymous big budget blockbuster. Yet, while that approach served him exceedingly well in "Ragnarok," he seemed considerably more out of control this time around. It doesn't mean that he needed to be necessarily reined in. It means that I just had wished that greater care was taken with the story and actual storytelling, therefore setting whatever boundaries needed to be in place for him to work within and push. Instead, Waititi was poking us in the eye every single second, which really overstays its welcome even while enjoying it. For if everything is essentially a joke, then why should we care about anything that happens at all?   

The love story of Thor and Jane only succeeds due to Hemsworth and Portman's chemistry and ease with each other combined with what we already know about the duo from previous Marvel entries and not really due to anything Waititi brings to the table, aside from some sweet montage moments. Even Christian Bale felt to be underused, which is a serious misfire, because when he is on screen, he exudes as much pathos as creepiness and truthfully, if you are going to have a character named Gorr The God Butcher, shouldn't we see a figure that more than lives up to his moniker?  

To that end, all of the character motivations felt rushed, in a screenplay hat felt to be barely written, so that they never fully resonated and existed solely to get to the next scene, thus, and again, undervaluing the film as a whole and threatening to make the MCU experience tiresome rather than enthralling.

Certainly, when producing a slate of material on an assembly line such as Marvel's, quality control is bound to miss once in a while. Yet with Sam Raimi's undercooked, over rushed missed opportunity which was "Doctor Strange In The Multiverse Of Madness" and now followed by Taika Waititi's "Thor: Love And Thunder," I am admittedly getting nervous going forward, especially as Ryan  Coogler's long awaited "Black Panther 2: Wakanda Forever" is set to arrive by the holiday season.  

Tighten it up, Marvel.  For we need a reason to return to the MCU other than because it simply exists.

MAJESTIC, MASTERFUL, MAGNIFICENT MULTIVERSE: a review of "Everything Everywhere All At Once"

 

"EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE"
Written, Produced and Directed by Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert
**** (four stars)
RATED R

Now, THAT'S a multiverse!!!! 

For much of the duration of Savage Cinema, I have lamented the increasing presence of sequels, prequels, remakes, franchises and re-imaginings at the full expense of essentially any other movies that could be made...and most importantly, the kinds of films that truly stand out as the type of one-pf-a-kind experience that signals the arrival of a fresh filmmaking voice who ultimately deliered an experience unlike anything we have seen before. 

These days, if a filmmaker is not of the name recognition level as Wes Anderson, Paul Thomas Anderson, Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, Edgar Wright or most recently, Jordan Peele--actual filmmakers who can open a film based solely upon their own names--the likelihood of their films even receiving a theatrical release are increasingly unstable. Face it, we are living in a time when Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee need to go to streaming services to finance new works and Steven Spielberg's "West Side Story" (2021), his best film in nearly 15 years, bombs at the box office, what chance do newer voices even have in this landscape to even try get their cinematic voices heard?

With the arrival and now, the huge success of "Everything Everywhere All At Once," written, produced and directed by the duo who have adorned themselves solely as Daniels, perhaps we are receiving a grand message from audiences that we are indeed craving material that is unquestionably original, unfamiliar, and completely surprising. What the Daniels have delivered enormously redefines "audacious," as their film will whip your head around and back again, vigorously and gleefully assault your senses and by film's end, break your heart and piece everything back together again, leaving you with a view of the world and existence itself altered and maybe even anew. 

This is precisely what the very BEST movies have the power to do when they are working so vibrantly, brilliantly, inventively, emphatically, dynamically and beautifully. Daniels' "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is swing-for-the-fences-and-hit-a-grand-slam cinema. It is not only the best film of 2022 so far (and honestly, I am unable to think of what else could come along to top it) but it is also one of the very best films of this decade.

Daniels' "Everything Everywhere At Once" stars an outstanding Michelle Yeoh as Evelyn Wang, a Chinese-American proprietor of a struggling laundromat, she co-owns with her husband Waymond (Ke Huey Kwan), which is now being audited by the intimidating IRS agent Dierdre Beaubeirdra (Jamie Lee Curtis). Adding to Evelyn's stress is the arrival of her demanding Father, Gong Gong (James Wong) from China, an impending divorce initiated by Waymond, and ongoing conflicts with her daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu), who now has a girlfriend named Becky (Tallie Medel).

And even with all of these factors, which would already be more than enough, Evelyn soon discovers that she must connect with her myriad of other selves from multiversal universes in order to defeat a grave threat known as Jobu Tupaki, who can potentially unravel all of existence in every universe.

Perhaps just a hair more than I described an be fully discerned from the film's trailer and truthfully, that it all that I feel comfortable sharing with you here because Daniels' "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is a film that rapturously exceeds itself from the confines of its expansive title and ultimately, extends itself further than anything the trailer could present to you. The glorious surprise of the film in its entirety is in the unknowing and therefore, it should be experienced as such.

I am comfortable expressing to you that Daniels have stuffed the film, to the point of near overloading, with comedy--both slapstick and pitch dark, science fiction and comic book aesthetics, a aching family drama, horror, martial arts films and animation into an orgiastic, wildly anarchistic stew that is proudly indescribable and brazenly defies categorization--a true cinematic gift during a time when everything has to be explained in one sentence or even one classification. 

"Everything Everywhere All At Once," through the unfiltered imagination and wide open sky heart of Daniels' storytelling and direction, merged with the equally unfiltered work from their complete filmmaking team--from Larkin Seipie's gorgeous Cinematography, Paul Rogers' whiplash, kaleidoscopic editing, the engulfing score from Son Lux, Kelsi Ephraim's set design and good Lord, Shirley Kurata's costume design and the dazzling makeup design, sound design, art direction and fight choreography--unleashes a full throttle take-it-or-leave-it experience yet it is not a confrontational one. 

This is a film of embrace. It is reaching out for us and all we have to do is reach back.  

It this makes any sense at all, try to envision or remember how you felt the very first time that you saw The Wachowski's action triumph, reality challenging "The Matrix" (1999). Take that, and then combine films as varied and as singular as Tom Tykwer's "Run Lola Run" (1998), Spike Jonze's "Being John Malkovich" (1999) and "Where The Wild Things Are" (2009), Charlie Kaufman's "Synecdoche, New York" (2008),  Edgar Wright's "Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" (2010), Terrence Malick's "The Tree Of Life" (2011), Boots Riley's "Sorry To Bother You" (2018) and the films of Michel Gondry, Terry Gilliam or the late Ken Russell and you just might gather what kind of a film you are in for. 

A film of marital strife and kung fu battles. A film of grave Mother-daughter dynamics and a surreal vision of a universe in which humans have hot dog hands as appendages. A film of the Asian and Asian-American experience combined with deep psychology, enormous sound and vision and the urgent silence and sorrow that suggests William Steig's Sylvester and the Magic Pebble (1969). It is a film of pathos and absurdity, whimsy and nightmares, the sublime, grandiose and poignant...in every frame, at every moment, from beginning to end.

Now, one would think that to have a film this heavily stuffed would be too much of a great thing, even for all of its unabashed creativity and world building and building and building. Yet, Daniels ensures that all of this is not simply art for art's sake or smug independent film quirkiness for there is a method to their specialized multiverse madness where the spinning of a laundromat dryer is a stand in for the karmic wheel and an everything bagel represents the end of all things.  

For as all out bonkers as "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is, there is a gravity that supplies the film with purpose, meaning, and a poignancy that I feel will release your personal floodgates by the film's wrenching, resplendent climax as the metaphors abound and the honest philosophical vision at work is the true engine at the soul of the film. For the multiverse can be taken at face value, as a literal form of existence, yet the overall existential quality of the film allows the multiverse to function as something so tangible and true, something evidenced so thrillingly through the exceedingly strong performances from the cast.

Michelle Yeoh is absolutely extraordinary in the leading role of Evelyn Wang, as her journey through the multiverse is rooted in the existential journeys that we all face every single day of our lives. What choices do I make? What can I become? If I take this route, what will be the outcome or if I take that route, will that lead me to to who I feel that I am able to be? What is my potential and is who I imagined myself to be the person that I actually am? Or am I destined to live a life that I never wanted, being caught on a treadmill that stifles my dreams, visions and hope itself?

Through Evelyn, and for ourselves in the audience, the multiverse could exist and serve as every thought and feeling that she and we hold about ourselves within our individualistic places in a chaotic yet symbiotic universe. We are all trying to make sense of something that in essence does not make sense and never will. Yet, we continue to seek meaning in the inherent connections that we share to the universe, the world, to all of our selves that reside within our one self and most importantly, to the people who mean the most to us. For in contact and connection, for in finding unity with those we love, we are then greater able to spiral through the universe together knowing that we are seen, we are understood, we are accepted regardless of who or what we are, who we did or did not become. 

Michelle Yeoh rises and exceeds every challenge the Daniels toss her way. It is a performance of tremendous grace, agility, humor, flight, commitment and acceptance of the possibilities contained within life, the universe and everything. Every accolade that shines her way is powerfully earned and deserved as she is formidable. 

As her daughter, the ironically named Joy, Stephanie Hsu is Michelle Yeoh's equal as she represents the futility and self perceived failures of navigating existence. She is the bottomless rage at the incredulity of living a life in which one is felt to be unaccepted, eternally misunderstood and unseen, and therefore, unloved for who could love something that is so obviously unlovable. She is the antagonist, the nihilist and what we are experiencing with her is a devastating portrait of mental illness and depression at its darkest and most manic, punishing and despairing, recalling Kirsten Dunst's devastating work in Lars Von Trier's "Melancholia" (2011), for why bother to exist in a world if it was never meant for me? 

While Evelyn and Joy serve as the film's yin-yang, Waymond Wang exists to bridge the gap. As Weymond, what a delight it was to see Ke Huy Quan, the former Short Round from Steven Spielberg's "Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom" (1984) and Data from Richard Donner's "The Goonies" (1985), after all of this time!! It is a rapid fire, bilingual performance that flows effortlessly from comedy to drama on a dime as we are first introduced to the multiverse through his character. 

He is our guide and in doing so, Quan showcased his superlative skill and ability with not only making the concept of the multiverse understandable, but also depicting the differences, shadings and connective tissue to all of his multiversal selves. While being different, they are also all the same and whether hapless or heroic, dashing or down trodden, Waymond provides the moral center of the film's primary conflict. He contains the messages that neither Evelyn or Joy are able to decipher, let alone hear. He binds them together as they threaten to permanently come apart and it is through his unquestionable warmth that the film receives its soul.     

Daniels' "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is a mind bending, phantasmagorical, deliriously absurd, beautifully nightmarish, balletically bizarre, psychedelic, polychromatic wonderment that also pierces the heart profoundly and it enormously felt. It is the film that celebrates the act of simply and majestically being alive and how every moment that we live and connect to that life force, that we even try at all at anything is a seismic victory. For living IS a victory. 

What a gift it is to go to the movies and witness something that fills you up so blissfully that the effect is lifting. Believe me, dear readers. "Everything Everywhere All At Once" is an absolute triumph.

MELANCHOLY MAGIC: a review of "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets Of Dumbledore"

 

"FANTASTIC BEATS: THE SECRETS OF DUMBLEDORE"
Based upon characters and a screenplay written by J.K. Rowling
Screenplay Written by J.K. Rowling & Steve Kloves
Directed by David Yates
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED PG 13

The continuing "Fantastic Beasts" series, J.K. Rowling's cinematic prequel saga to the "Harry Potter" film and book series, has seen more than its share of obstacles behind the scenes and there is truly no need to waste any more digital space addressing those issues here, aside from the obvious fact that they have proven to be a distraction from the actual cinematic storytelling at work. But furthermore, it is because of the story being told that a disconnect exists regardless of any familiarity and desire to return to the world of wizards, muggles and Hogwarts. 

For me, I remember the moment when I felt that I was disengaging from Rowling's vision for the first time. The sequence occurred in the middle of the first installment, David Yates' "Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them" (2016), where magizoologist Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne) is attempting to attract and capture a rhinoceros styled creature called an Erumpent. While whimsical and purposeful to establishing the character of Newt Scamander and his adoration for all creatures great and small, it was also ponderous and unfortunately, stopped the momentum dead in its tracks. In short, the spell Rowling and Yates were unquestionably working diligently to weave was breaking. 

On the whole, the first "Fantastic Beasts" film was the first time when Rowling's storytelling did not quite land. And as I mused then, perhaps J.K. Rowling's gifts are better suited to the page rather than the screen as the rules for each brand of storytelling are markedly different. She possessed more than enough story and plot with that first film, but also a weakened sense of how to get from scene to scene and therefore, making for a less than satisfying whole. Chapter One as a book is one thing, as you can simply turn the page for Chapter Two. But, within a film, the experience needs to work simultaneously as Chapter One and as a complete experience, and that is where the first film faltered for me.  

By the second film, Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes Of Grindelwald" (2018), the parts snapped together in a much more satisfying way with an experience that provided the momentum, emotional depth and looming darkness that made for a compelling installment, as well as exciting me for Chapter Three. Now, after four long years, Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets Of Dumbledore" has arrived and has proven itself to being the best of the the prequel series so far. While not without flaws, most notably in its pacing issues, it is the most emotionally resonant production, one that finds pure and undeniably poignant ways to bridge the gap between this series and the adventures of the "Harry Potter" film and book series (which again takes place decades before Harry and his friends are born), while also being an exquisite rumination on love and loss. 

Opening a few years after the previous installment, David Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore," finds the Wizarding World on the precipice of grave danger with the increased presence and rise to power of Gellert Grindelwald (now played by Mads Mikkelsen). The dark wizard's latest scheme is to steal victory within an upcoming election, via the aid of a Qilin, a fantastical beast with the power of clairvoyance as well as the ability to see into another's soul. Yet, the Qilin in particular is a fantastic beast stolen by Grindelwald's acolytes, and subsequently murdered and revived through Grindelwald's necromancy. If successful, Grindelwald would gain complete control over the Wizarding World, affording him the opportunity to unleash his genocidal war upon the Muggle world. 

Unable to battle Grindelwald himself due to a blood pact, Hogwarts' Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher Albus Dumbledore (Jude Law) builds a small team designed to defeat the man who is his former best friend as well as one with whom he was once in love. 

In addition to Senegalese-French wizard Yusef Kama (William Nadylam), American witch and Professor of Charms Eulalie "Lally" Hicks (an excellent Jessica Williams), and Head Auror of the British Ministry Of Magic Theseus Scamander (Callum Turner), Dumbledore recruits Theseus' younger brother and magizoologist Newt  Scamander (Eddie Redmayne), his loyal assistant Bunty Broadacre (Victoria Yeates) and American baker Jacob Kowalski (a warmly strong Dan Folger), still mourning the departure of his true love, the witch Queenie Goldstein (Alison Sudol), who defected to Grindelwald's ranks. 

This adventure finds our heroes intertwined within episodes that contain nothing less than assassination attempts, and a perilous escape from a German wizard prison, where inmates are devoured by an enormous manticore every time a light is extinguished and the aforementioned election. Yet, most of all, it is a mission that finds Dumbledore, Newt, Jacob and Grindelwald each confronted with the undying embers of loves gained and lost combined with the pain of regret from mistakes made and past tragedies endured while facing down an uncertain future.   

David Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets Of Dumbledore" is an elegant production, helmed with superb care and class. Crisply filmed by Cinematographer George Richmond and adorned with sumptuous costume and set designs, it is an experience which delivers an amalgamation of '40s film noir, old fashioned British espionage films, the "Mission: Impossible" television series, and that mystical, magical quality that effectively merged the whimsy, the foreboding and the melancholy that we have grown to adore from the "Harry Potter" films and the previous two "Fantastic Beasts" installments. Additionally, this third episode functions as a cultural critique, a political allegory starring rigged elections and fascistic tendencies illustrating just how easily and rapidly democracy can transform into totalitarian regimes with a eugenic philosophy at its core.  

Working in collaboration with "Harry Potter" screenwriter Steve Kloves, J.K. Rowing has streamlined her narrative, not in overall complexity, but to allow the series its proper weight in its emotional resonance. In that aspect, "The Secrets Of Dumbledore" is, beyond the magic and intrigue, at its core, a love story, or a series of love stories, with a seemingly inevitable wizard war as a backdrop.

For me, the heart of the film rests in its prologue and absolutely lovely epilogue, neither of which I will describe in full here, but both of which are just aching in their respective sense of longing. These two sequences tie the emotional threads of the characters together, thus giving the film purposeful bookends to the narrative. Of course, the film continues to explore the fallout of Dumbledore and Grindelwald's already ended romance, yet one where the embers still remain, richly symbolized by the crystal phial wrapped around Dumbledore's hand and wrist, representing the love he cannot completely relinquish even though he must in order to defeat Grindelwald. 

And then, there is also the continuing story of Jacob and Queenie, whom by the opening of this third film, have lost each other twice yet remain connected. Furthermore, we have the fraternal love stories between brothers Newt and Theses plus Dumbledore and his younger brother Aberforth (Richard Coyle), with whom they share a strained relationship due to familial tragedy and the figure of the disturbed, abused Credence Barebone (Ezra Miller), figures crucially. 

As previously stated, David Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets Of Dumbledore" is an exquisitely rendered experience, which never at any point succumbs to anything resembling the more puerile aspects of big budget franchise driven movies. It is mature in approach and execution, which means it may not exactly be the cup of tea for younger fans of Rowling's Wizarding World universe yet by the same token, I did appreciate Yates' unwillingness to scale the material downwards for that audience, in preference of giving younger viewers something to reach towards.

All of that being said, the film is not without flaws, primarily in its deliberate pacing. Yes, the film is not in much of a hurry to get towards its destination, a tactic that works for and against the end result. In its favor, we have time to luxuriate in the visual details, the aesthetic  splendor, the skill of the seasoned performances and the emotional resonance. To its detriment, there are quite a number of sequences that did need a certain tightening, push and heft to greater reflect the inherent urgency of the story, for the potential loss of democracy and slide towards fascism, a looming wizard war, and on going heartbreak would suggest a greater urgency and momentum, wouldn't it?

The disconnect of this prequel series when compared to the deep embrace towards the original "Harry Potter" series is more than evident and whatever difficulties these prequels have with fully earning the devotion of viewers and fans (real world controversies notwithstanding) has to be acknowledged in order to even attempt to take these new films upon their own cinematic terms. 

As Newt Scamander, Eddie Redmayne continues to deliver an affectionately quirky performance of a relatively enigmatic character who is more than a little peculiar and not the easiest to pin down. The growth of Newt Scamander over the three films thus far has been depicted in subtle yet evident shadings. 

While still presented as a figure who would most likely be happiest being far away from most people and left alone to his world travels and discoveries of the titular fantastic beats he so adores, "The Secrets Of Dumbledore" showcases Newt's evolution from loner to reluctant hero and now, to a willing soldier in Dumbledore's first army--a character who is experiencing that a newfound desire for human connection and therefore, an inter-connectivity between all living things that is now being severely threatened should Grindewald succeed. And still, as before, Newt Scamander remains a central figure while not being a leading character, but more on that shortly.

As the younger Albus Dumbledore, the always magnetic Jude Law excels! While Law displays hints of what Michael Gambon achieved with his performances in the "Harry Potter" movies, he mines new depths of the younger man, simultaneously nursing a broken heart while ensuring the greater good to the world wizarding and otherwise and providing the emotional foreshadowing of perhaps why he behaved, nurtured, loved and sacrificed as he did in his future life once Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Voldemort and other significant figures entered his life. While there may not be any real surprises to Dumbledore's secrets, what is accomplished through Law's performance allows a greater core to emerge to this beloved character, and therefore, that palpable undercurrent of romantic loss and even existential loneliness that never truly fades, regardless of the lengthy passage of time.

And still, if were being honest, there is not really a central figure to latch onto and perhaps, this might be why some viewers are having some difficulty embracing this series on a similar level to the original Harry Potter series, where the leading character was crystal clear and everything spirals from Harry himself as he embarks upon his journey from his friends and enemies, his desires, wishes, faults fears, failures, victories and purpose. In essence, we experience everything when he experiences it and in doing so, a powerful connection is forged between the character and story to readers and viewers. 

For the "Fantastic Beasts" series, it is feeling moreover to me that the leading character is not actually a person or one of the titular beasts but possibly the Wizarding World itself and whatever connection we hold to this universe J.K. Rowling created, which can make the proceedings feel less personal even as the fate of that world is at stake. 

Additionally, this series is one that is demanding a particular level of patience that has been unasked for, so to speak, in all of the past Harry Potter material (to a degree) because for the films, we already had the books to return to and with the books, the pace at which the story unfolded was entirely in the hands of each individual reader. 

With "Fantastic Beasts," as there are no books to turn to, we are indeed waiting for each film to be created before beginning to experience a return to the story and Wizarding World. Of course, this reality mirrors the time period when there were only books and hungry fans had to wait for each new installment to be published but again, we were deeply invested, some people to a near primal degree, with the character of Harry Potter and his evolution. Can audiences ever feel that same devotion to a place? A time period?

If all of the "Harry Potter" movies captured the urgency and angst of youth and growing up then David Yates' "Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets Of Dumbledore" reflects the melancholy of middle age, as youthful idealism and integrity are more greatly threatened by hardened cynicism and by nature, is more muted than one's formative years. 

Even so, the middle years are no less passionate, no less filled with all manner of existential ache and with this film, again, the poignancy and pain of the prologue and that resplendently bittersweet epilogue just makes me desire to hang onto this world just a little bit longer.  

RELEASE THE PANDA: a review of "Turning Red"

"TURNNG RED"
A Pixar Animaton Studios Film 
Story by Domee Shi, Julia Cho & Sarah Streicher
Screenplay Written by Julia Cho & Domee Shi
Directed by Domee Shi
**** (four stars)
RATED PG

There is a reason why it's called "the formative years."

I may have mentioned it before upon this site and so, I may be mentioning it again but in my mind, I just find it unfathomable when adults proclaim to possess no memory of their younger selves, especially the period of their adolescence. 

Absolutely everyone's lives are unique to themselves and memory is and of itself is especially precious, elusive, unforgiving and malleable, therefore possesses different meaning and layers to every person. But then again, as unique as our lives are, every one of us experiences the same periods of life biologically which then affects us cognitively, psychologically and emotionally, giving us the building blocks of self-discovery in the lives of ourselves. 

Which leads us to puberty...

As for me, I continue to harbor an extremely close relationship to my younger self, so much so, that I sometimes question if I have mentally aged at all even as my teen years are far behind me. I still feel as if I am the same misfit kid that I have always been, with the same passions, hopes, fears, failures and life long needs that have all congealed into whomever I happen to be...for better or worse. And so, I remember. Boy, do I remember! To that end, I have the ability to access those memories very easily and confidently, where I can put myself emotionally back into a moment and bask in the everything so enlightening and awful about that time of life. 

Because of that ability to access, maybe that's why the coming of age film genre is one that continues to speak so loudly to me. As a youth, it served as a guide. Now, it is a memory. And when it connects, it is forever truth and purity regardless of how old I happen to be. With the arrival of Domee Shi's "Turning Red," the latest feature from the venerable Pixar Animation Studios, we not already have a full fledged return to gold standard level material from Pixar, as well as one of the very best films of 2022, we have one of the finest entries in this specific genre as the truth and purity of growing up is voluminous in its astounding presentation. 

Set in 2002 Toronto, Domee Shi's "Turning Red" centers around Meilin "Mei" Lee (so engagingly voiced by Rosalie Chiang), an energetic, 13 year old Chinese-Canadian student ready to take on the world and who sees herself as a confident adult (if the Canadian Transit System proclaims 13 year olds to being adults then why not?). 

Mei is an exemplary student at school who excels at Math. She has three best friends in the "tomboy-ish" Miriam (Ava Morse), the dry and droll Priya (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan), and the perpetually furious Abby (Hyein Park), with whom she shares an obsession with the boy band 4*Town (which inexplicably contains five members--nice touch). Despite teasing from the school bully Tyler (Tristan Allerick Chen), Mei remains steadfast and (almost) unflappable. While Mei adores her family, which includes her gentle, reticent Father, Jin (Orion Lee) and her strict, overprotective Mother, Ming (Sandra Oh), and enjoys caring for her family's temple to their ancestor Sun Yee, she increasingly hides the truth of herself from Ming, fearing her disapproval and ultimate rejection.

One night, after enduring a painfully embarrassing episode involving a clash between Ming and her school life, Mei awakens the next morning to discover that she has been transformed into a giant red panda--a result of her genetic and mystical connection between her ancestors and red pandas combined with whenever she experiences an overwhelming emotion or anxiety! While she is soon able to understand and even control her transformations, how will she be able to hide it from Ming and her friends, and most importantly, how will she ever be able to attend the 4*Town concert, a time when her panda might become at its most unleashed!

Screamingly funny, deeply perceptive and emotionally resonant to a nearly primal degree, Domee Shi's "Turning Red" is a gorgeously animated and executed film that reaches the same universal and existential heights as past Pixar achievements "Inside Out" (2015) and "Soul" (2020), both directed by Pete Docter as also as experienced in Disney's superlative "Encanto" (2021). Again, we are given a film that showcases and celebrates the glory of representation and how crucial it matters when it comes to presenting experiences of those under-represented in the movies, for when was the last time we gathered a window into the Asian-Canadian experience? As with both "Soul" and "Encanto," the absolute joy and wonder Shi is clearly having with being able to displaying her own culture is palpable. "Turning Red" is a love letter to Domee Shi's heritage, to Toronto and she has invited all of us to her party!

Beyond any cultural aesthetics, the full purpose and intention of "Turning Red" is to display the emergence of adolescence, and the onset of puberty from a decidedly female perspective and here is where Shi's film succeeds, greatly earning its place as a companion piece alongside the likes of John Hughes' "Sixteen Candles" (1984), Will Gluck's "Easy A" (2010), Kelly Fremon Craig's "The Edge Of Seventeen" (2016), Greta Gerwig's "Lady Bird" (2017), Bo Burnham's "Eighth Grade" (2018), Olivia Wilde's "Booksmart" (2019) plus television series from "My So-Called Life" (1994-1995), MTV's "Daria" (1997-2002), Paul Feig and Judd Apatow's "Freaks And Geeks" (1999-2000) and finally, Maya Erskine, Anna Konkle and Sam Zvibleman's "PEN15 (2019-2021). 

Yes, Domee Shi's "Turing Red" is that strong, a film that is essential, never disposable entertainment and one that is the type of Pixar film that one can grow with, as it will will mean different things to the viewer as they age. Domee Shi deftly and energetically showcases with tremendous empathy, pathos and high comedy the struggles and strain of transformation when growing up including all manner of biological changes that exacerbate the emotional changes. I love how her teenage characters are all depicted in their awkward stages visually, with their overly expressive wide mouths and in-transition bodies, clearly in developmental stages from children to teens. 

Yet, as cleverly evidenced in the film's title, "Turning Red" is about a girl's discovery of her own budding sexuality in its explosion of pheromones and hormones, masturbation and menstruation. Domee Shi's gleefully unapologetic vision captures this stage of life in its wondrous, horrific, metaphorical and deliriously funny glory, all the while nailing the sloppy, sweaty, smelly realities that accompanies the arrival of puberty, which always seems to find the worst possible times to derail whatever emerging inner confidence you are trying to build and cultivate for yourself. 

The terror of having the worlds of home and school collide. The horror of having your family know your most intimate secrets, feelings and even bodily functions, which feel so singular even though every adult you know has already experienced everything you are enduring. Wanting to be left alone but not forgotten. Desperately needing love while pushing it away. Proclaiming to be mature but dissolving into an infantile mess at any slight. The confusion, the chaos, the anxiety of EVERYTHING, Domee Shi captures it all with tremendous skill, artistry and a wide open heart that so empathetically embraces her younger self, the younger selves of us watching and all of the kids going through it right now.

And still, "Turning Red" probes even deeper. 

As absolutely wild as "Turning Red" becomes, the film never loses sight of it heart and soul. It is a film where the emotional reality fueled through a certain magical fantasy, enhancing the Mother/daughter conflict between Ming and Mei as the relationships that Mei is formulating and solidifying with her posse is taking a greater significance than the one with her Mom...such as it is with growing up, attempting to discover oneself away from the confines of what you were born into and the challenges of defining expectations for yourself rather than adhering to the expectations of your family yet still wanting acceptance and approval. 

Just that would have been more than enough for the film to explore and it still would have been terrific. But "Turning Red" probes deeper still to great comedic and dramatic effect as the inner conflicts Mei and Ming have with themselves is entirely ignited by the intergenerational trauma passed down through the women of their family, therefore making "Turning Red" a film about repression and the societal shame and fear that mercilessly becomes attached to a girl's growing sexuality and women's inherent sexual energy. 

Now, Domee Shi has a mountain of fun with the metaphor of the film's title and Mei's transformations into a giant red panda, i.e. Mei's emerging sexuality and Ming's buried sexuality. "There's no way that she can keep her panda in!!" exclaims Ming at the mere thought of Mei attending a 4*Town concert. Tyler threatens to inform Ming that Mei has been "flaunting the panda all over school." And so on.

But within the jokes, the slapstick and hilarity, there is deep sorrow and pain felt, especially when we are introduced to more members of Mei's family and witness the conflict between Ming and her Mother (Wai Ching Ho)--watch the changing shape of Ming's mouth at a mere phone call from her Mother--and how all of the women have created a most unfortunate cycle of repression by denying themselves their natural instincts and desires, therefore burying the purity and truths of themselves. Therein lies the sadness of "Turning Red," to deny oneself what is wholly natural, to feel ashamed of a process that is normal which then stretches outwards to stifle others as well as oneself, to feel that who you are naturally is not worthy of acceptance, of nurturing, of attention, of attraction and of love and should ultimately be bottled away to become "acceptable" to others and the larger society. 

The push/pull narrative of this conflict as witnessed through Mei and Ming, Mei and her Grandmother and Mei and her friends, is made universal by the film's climax which is thunderous in its truth and comedy and on a whiplash dime, it swan dives into an emotionally shattering meeting of the heart, mind and soul. 

This theme of repression becomes urgently crucial as we find the character of Mei on the cusp of becoming at a personal crossroads of allowing herself to become or deny herself to herself for the sake of her family forever. "I only wanted to go to a concert!!!!" Mei wails angrily and rightfully and that one line pierced my heart. For I remember the times when I only wanted to go to a concert, a natural rite of passage, both truthfully and metaphorically, and was denied by my parents over and over and over again and how those demands have reverberated over time and have proven to be so difficult to wrestle with and unravel. 

To be denied the truth of yourself by others only teaches one to deny oneself as they age and so much is lost in this vicious cycle that is most likely never presented through malice but with the best of intentions and love filtered through worry and fear. Mei is on the precipice of a difficult decision that rests on top of an already difficult transition and we are witness to how repression has damaged Ming, the family and to a different degree, Mei's Father! Regard him closely as he not only has a lovely late film scene which reminded me of great Father/daughter moments on both "Sixteen Candles" and John Hughes and Howard Deutch's "Pretty In Pink" (1986) combined with some shadings of a buried interior life akin to the devastating final moments of Luca Guadagnino's elegant "Call Me By Your Name" (2017). But, that is another movie entirely!         

Yes, over the years there has been some minor criticism that Pixar films have taken on a tendency to manufacture emotion rather that have stories unfold naturally and allow the inherent emotion to communicate to viewers, thus allowing us to release our own. "Turning Red" reaches its conclusion with a blindingly white hot surge of fully earned and deeply felt emotion that encourages you to relate and release rather than repress. Domee Shi has created her film without shame or fear and it encourages us to respond in kind...and I have no shame or fear in admitting to you that it wrecked me. 

Domee Shi's "Turning Red" hysterically and beautifully pinpoints the time of life when you are at the mercy of not only your emotions but everyone else's emotions concerning your emotions. Your need to control the uncontrollable and the impossibility of going with the natural flow of life because nothing truly makes sense. You are just truly learning to find yourself when seemingly every other influence is attempting to define yourself for yourself whether asked or not, and with intentions both positive and negative. 

And it also serves as a heartfelt warning against being loyal to everything and everyone at the expense of not being loyal to the truth of yourself.  

AN ENCHANTMENT: a review of "Encanto"

 

"ENCANTO"
Story by Jared Bush, Byron Howard, Charise Castro Smith, Jason Hand, Nancy Kruse and Lin-Manuel Miranda
Screenplay Written by Charise Castro Smith and Jared Bush
Directed by Jared Bush & Byron Howard   Co-Directed by Charise Castro Smith
**** (four stars)
RATED PG

What would our lives be like if we were honestly able to deeply see ourselves and in turn, to be deeply seen? To not view ourselves or to be viewed through the lens of our own insecurities and misconceptions? To genuinely trust ourselves and to be trusted in the truth of our purest instincts? When seen and accepted as is, imagine what that would do to enhance our individualized and collective sense of self-worth as we all forge into our lives together in a greater sense of self-acceptance and communion.

Full confession: I am not what you might call a "Disney person." In fact, I never really have been. Do not get me wrong! As a child, there were Disney features, most notably "Peter Pan" (1953), that I enjoyed and adored. I also treasured this collection of storybook record albums which I listened to endlessly. But, the Wonderful World Of Disney was not necessarily one that I gravitated towards. Truth be told, my allegiance was to Charlie Brown, Snoopy and the more melancholic yet Wonderful World of "Peanuts" as created by Charles M. Schulz. 

That being said, Disney is an unavoidable entity in our world, so much so, that I believe that one not need to even see the classic movies in order to gather a sense of what these creations actually are. Case in point, when Disney majestically rebounded on the animated film scene with a stream of films between the years of 1989-1999, now collectively known as the studio's "Renaissance Period," I can honestly tell you that I have not seen even one scene from " The Little Mermaid" (1989), "Beauty and the Beast" (1991), "Aladdin" (1992) or even "The Lion King" (1994) and yet, I know them all intimately and that was long before I began my life as a preschool teacher, where all things Disney are even more ever present. Even with Pixar's proximity to Disney, I never really considered them to necessarily be Disney films. Pixar felt to be its own entity to me. And so, anything under the official Disney banner, I tended to not pay terribly much attention...and once the juggernaut known as "Frozen" (2013) exploded, I just dug in my heels. 

All of this preamble leads me to this point in time as "Encanto," officially the 60th Disney animated feature film, has arrived and not only to my own wonderment have I seen the film, I am absolutely thrilled to announce my full endorsement of said film as it is a miraculous achievement that superbly succeeds on multi-levels conceptually, aesthetically, culturally and emotionally. It is the type of film that proudly knows precisely what it is from its first image and never loses sight of itself all the way to the conclusion. It is overflowing with confidence, style, warmth, grace and empathy and is also the rare film that I would immediately watch again once the end credits ceased to scroll.   

Disney's "Encanto," set within an undetermined time and a space, possibly standing in for rural Colombia, centers on the life and times of the Madrigal family. Led by the grand matriarch Abuela Alma Madrigal (voiced by Maria Cecilia Botero), the family serves their community from their sentient Casita which is hidden from the outside world and magically powered by an always shining magical candle.

For Alma's children and grandchildren, the candle presents each member of the family with a superhuman gift utilized to assist the townspeople. Daughter Julieta (voiced by Angie Cepeda) can heal through her cooking. The "overly-emotional" daughter Pepa (voiced by Carolina Gaitan) alters the weather. The glamorous 21 year old granddaughter Isabela (voiced by Diane Guerrero) can make flowers bloom anywhere and everywhere, her 19 year old sister Luisa (voiced by Jessica Darrow) possesses superhuman strength...and 15 year old sister Mirabel (exquisitely voiced by Stephanie Beatriz)?

Something unusual occurred upon the night when Mirabel was due to receive her magical gift...she didn't. 

Ever since, Mirabel Madrigal has felt out of step, out of place and out of sync with her magical family despite her love and devotion to them and while loved in return, she is treated as such. What feels to be a lack of purpose in her life, inspires in Mirabel a continuous search for said purpose, one that feels to be truly set in motion by a vision of the Casita cracking, and the magical candle's flame being extinguished. Perhaps if Mirabel can unravel the mystery behind her vision, she can also discover what her gift actually is and if it has anything to do with her clairvoyant and long ostracized Uncle Bruno (voiced by John Leguizamo)...but we don't talk about him...no, no no!

As directed by Jared Bush, Byron Howard and Charise Castro Smith, Disney's "Encanto" is an absolute joy is it so effortlessly blends elements of fantasy, adventure, comedy, the movie musical, magical realism and luscious animation into an astoundingly real and deeply felt story of the life of a family and the search for oneself and one's place in the world when it feels to reject you. 

As a work of animation that not only resonates but as a work that should exist as a timeless work of art, "Encanto" is first rate and one that I would hope would give other animation studios a bit of a healthy competitive poke when it comes to what sorts of films can be created. I am remembering a period when, for me, Pixar firmly represented the gold standard in American animation studios, the period in which they released nothing less than Brad Bird's "Ratatouille" (2007), Andrew Stanton's "Wall-E" (2008) and Pete Docter's "Up" (2009), films that never treated the work as product nor their audiences as consumers. And then, DreamWorks Animations arrived with Chris Sanders and Dean DeBlois' absolutely magnificent "How To Train Your Dragon" (2010), a film that is a classic that stands on equal cinematic footing with the best Pixar had to offer, so much so, I hoped it would have inspired them to lookover their shoulders and keep raising their own bar.

In many ways, Pixar had taken the crown from Disney's animated films for quite some time. Even so, and aside from the towering achievements of Pete Docter's "Inside Out" (2015) and "Soul" (2020), Pixar, in my mind, has floundered far too long with visually resplendent yet creatively uninspired sequels and perhaps needs a competitive kick, and who better from the ones who really made the magic of animated films as we know them. Disney's "Encanto" is indeed that film and it just sparkles with a treasure trove of lush textures, dazzling colors and a constantly surprising inventiveness that lovingly accents the frequent comedy (a dinner sequence in particular had me cackling), makes the action snap and playfully shock, inspiring me to think of moments from Steven Spielberg's "Raiders Of The Lost Ark" (1981), and most importantly, the entire experiences flows and floats like the finest movie musical. And believe me, "Encanto" IS a terrific musical!!

For so many films, animated and otherwise, that have claimed to be musicals but are really just movies with songs, "Encanto" is unquestionably a movie musical that works within the same cinematic sphere as Jon M. Chu's euphoric "In The Heights" (2020) and Steven Spielberg's downright tremendous "West Side Story" (2020). Yes, it is a bonus and then some to have Lin-Manuel Miranda compose all of the songs--and trust me, ALL of them are first rate! The filmmakers understand that a musical is not just a bunch of songs strung together. The songs advance the plot of course, but most importantly, they always enhance the inner lives of the characters and their expressiveness on a level that dialogue cannot express nearly as effectively. 

There was simply no better way to introduce the film large cast of characters, their magical gifts and Mirabel's quandary than through Mirabel's "The Family Madrigal." There was no better way to address the super strong yet inwardly crumbling Luisa's anxieties than the stunning "Surface Pressure." There was no better way to experience Mirabel's pain from feeling wholly separated from yet devoted to her family than through the aching "Waiting On A Miracle," so tenderly sung with quivering tenacity by Stephanie Beatriz. There was no better way for Isabella to express her newfound freedom and self-discovery than through the ebullient "What Else Can I Do?" There was no better way to express Abuela Alma's inner world and family history, the true catalyst of the entire story, than through the gorgeous "Dos Oruguitas." And yes, by now we are all talking and singing about why "We Don't Talk About Bruno" and it deserves every stitch of our attention as again, there was no better way to confront this part of the story than through this song. Lin-Manuel Miranda's eight songs all contributed gloriously to the luxurious tapestry of "Encanto" through a rich musical vision that was as culturally authentic as it was emotionally authentic.

Speaking of cultural authenticity, once more with feeling as I have often expressed upon this site, representation is everything, especially within stories and genres that exist in more fanciful arenas! Taking the time and opportunity to feel truly seen within the very types of films of which so many of us are still so woefully under-represented, gives us a greater mode of connection with the material. And when the cultural representation is performed correctly, with respect, reverence, honestly and joy, that connection can make under represented members in the audiences soar at the recognition as we have experienced with the likes of Ryan Coogler's "Black Panther" (2018), Destin Daniel Cretton's "Shang-Chi and the Legend Of The Ten Rings" (2020) as well as the aforementioned "Soul."

Disney's "Encanto" is a wealth of beautifully rendered depictions of Colombian culture and its people, with it stunningly well rendered textures and varieties of skin tones, facial characteristics, hair styles, wardrobes, and cultural aesthetics abound in interior and exterior locations. As with the very best Pixar features, there are so many details that clearly have been painstakingly realized that we could easily freeze frame any moment in the film and just study the details as how artfully they were displayed. 

Additionally, I have also been told by an extremely reliable source that this is actually the very first Disney animated feature to star a leading character who happens to wear glasses! And as a person who actually does wear glasses, I could not have asked for a better representative than the outstanding Mirabel Madrigal.  

Beyond its technical skills, dynamic songs and heartfelt cultural representation, for me, the greatest achievement of Disney's "Encanto" is its commitment to the fine art of storytelling. Certainly, Maribel's journey may feel to be familiar as the film is indeed a quest story where the quest itself is utilized as a metaphor for her inner journey as she, and her family, realize what the true essence of what a miraculous gift actually is. Yet, as the late great Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert expressed over and again, a story is not about what it is about. It is how it is about what it is about! 

With regards to "Encanto," the film uses magical realism and comic book superhero aesthetics to deliver the story of the life cycle of a family, filled with the emotional pathos and realism that arrives in themes of sibling rivalry, familial burdens and expectations and intergenerational trauma. The history of the family has created all of the beauty and pain that exists in the present and potentially the future unless, Maribel Madrigal can discover the threads that can alter the trajectory, hopefully instilling a newfound sense of self-acceptance, self-confidence, self-sufficiency and the self knowledge that the person you know that exists at your core IS ENOUGH. No more, no less, as is, for now and always without judgement, fear or shame. And further, once one knows oneself, perhaps that is the moment in which we are truly seen by ourselves through our own eyes, and maybe even accepted by others just as we are.  

Additionally, and very much like how sadness was seen to be an essential piece in the landscapes of our emotional puzzles, leading to a larger universe of emotional expression and vocabulary in "Inside Out," "Encanto" showcases how the pains and tragedies of life are also essential to...well...living life. Pain cannot be waved or willed away. Perfection is futile and so-called imperfection can reveal a myriad of gifts which only makes the individual and wider world more complete. 

Mirabel Madrigal is the type of character that I wanted to instantly reach through the screen and befriend if only I could. Quirky and funny, she certainly is. Pleasant, kind and considerate she is as well. But her pain at feeling that she is less than, not as valued, even possibly as a mistake, lent the film a universal pathos, an existential ache that absolutely anyone anywhere can relate to, thus making her a character to embrace because we know how she feels. And believe me, no one at any moment should ever feel to be a mistake or meaningless. But we do, and Mirabel, through the pressures of family expectations, feels undervalued no matter how hard she tries and no matter how wonderful of a person she already is. 

To her credit, Mirabel is tenacious. She is steadfast in her loyalties and commitments to her family and community. And once the time strikes, she becomes fearless, not through any dormant super powers but through the purity of her heart and love. Mirabel's lessons are lessons for the Madrigal family in totality, again showcasing the life cycle of a family through its beginnings, growth, transformations, tribulations, implosions, destruction and reconstruction. 

In doing so, "Encanto" succeeds where so many films about dysfunctional families fail because this film focuses not upon dysfunction, so to speak, but precisely how families live, breathe, fall apart, and live again. This is a film about how we exist within our families and how families exist overall. And all of this, arrives through the visage and actions of a bespectacled teenage girl so magically brought to life through an amalgamation of writing, technical artistry, music and voice acting. It is rare when an animated character just feels to be so real. Mission grandly accomplished with Mirabel Madrigal.   

Disney's "Encanto" is a complete triumph! A film that understands that the artistic technique, as outstanding as it is on its own is just not enough. The story, characters, performances, music, conceptual and emotional multi-layers and the sheer love poured copiously into this experience make this a film to treasure for the ages.  

LOST CHILDREN: a review of "Licorice Pizza"

"LICORICE PIZZA"
Written and Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson
**1/2 (two and a half stars)
RATED R

When I think of storytelling, I kind of imagine every story possessing some sort of an internal engine, the very element that propels a story, makes it moves, gives it purpose, the reason that it is attempting to connect with the reader, or in this case the viewer.

This does not, however, mean that I think that a story should tell you how to feel or think about it. On the contrary, once the story is set in motion, it is then, essentially given to us to interact with and prescribe an interpretation that is meaningful to each of our individual selves. But for every story creator, it is up to them to provide that engine and whatever kind of engine it may happen to be, whether straightforward or something that takes more effort on the part of the receiver. 

As for the films of Writer/Director Paul Thomas Anderson, his entire oeuvre has always contained their storytelling engines within his collective of characters rather than standard plot structures. Yet, what has evolved with his films over the last 25 years has been a gradually move away from the visceral to the cerebral, as if extending from the multi-layered gut felt energy of Robert Altman to the multi-layered esoteric qualities of Stanley Kubrick. I believe his finest merging of the two sensibilities arrived with his mountainous "There Will Be Blood" (2007), an experience that was as visceral as it was ethereal, as the performances by Daniel Day-Lewis and Paul Dano captured a furious intensity that only intensified yet filtered through an advanced audio/visual aesthetic that allowed sound and vision to carry the narrative as powerfully as the dialogue, story and characters. 

And for me, and regardless of the steady stream of critical accolades and awards PTA continues to receive, I personally do not feel that he has reached that creative peak ever since.

With his subsequent films, which include "The Master" (2012),"Inherent Vice" (2014) and "Phantom Thread" (2017), despite the always excellent performances, the astounding cinematography, lushly complex and innovative music scores from Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood and again, the continuous critical acclaim, for me, what was once housed inside of Paul Thomas Anderson's films which made his stories run blindingly white hot, have now become cooled to the point of being frigid, unreachable, and unknowable. And in the case of "Inherent Vice," that was an experience which felt to unravel before my eyes. 

Don't get me wrong, I have no qualms about how Paul Thomas Anderson chooses to tell his stories, therefore, which engine he wishes to place inside of them. I just question if he is trying to place engines into his films at all anymore because he has seemingly decided that his films take on a more plotless, and therefore, even shapeless quality, that for me, makes connecting with his films exceedingly more difficult to the point where I am not certain if I wish to continue making the effort. 

His latest film, "Licorice Pizza," continues upon this path, despite how much it has going for it (as well as the stream of rapturous reviews it has obtained). Anderson has delivered a narrative that possesses all of the ingredients that are in my wheelhouse as it is a coming of age/first love story set during the early 1970's and is anchored by two startling strong performances by the film's leads. Yet, once again, and especially for a story that is inherently fraught with burgeoning motivations, complexities and emotions, the film floats by upon its own breeze or better yet, m ore like a cloud, something with grand impressions but is ultimately and always untouchable.    

Set in the San Fernando Valley circa 1973, Paul Thomas Anderson's "Licorice Pizza" stars Cooper Hoffman (son of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman) as 15 year old Gary Valentine and Alana Haim (of the band HAIM) as 25 year old Alana Kane. The twosome meet on Gary's high school picture day where Alana is working as a photographer's assistant. Gary, a child actor overflowing with confidence, instantly strikes up a conversation upon meeting and pursues Alana, who continuously, vehemently rejects him... yet, inexplicably turns up to meet him for dinner. 

What follows is a mosaic of events during which Gary and Alana are immersed in harebrained get-rich-quick schemes, involving a self-created waterbed company followed by a pinball arcade plus encountering a near rogue's gallery of characters, including a racist hotel entrepreneur (John Michael Higgins), a drunken actor/motorcycle enthusiast (Sean Penn) and his wildman film director (Tom Waits), an aspiring Mayoral candidate (Benny Safdie), a clearly insane Jon Peters (Bradley Cooper) and more.  

A friendship, and budding romance, such as it is, ensues.  

There is no question that Paul Thomas Anderson is a born filmmaker and every time he releases a new work it is an event! As always PTA has delivered a sparkling film, filled end to end and top to bottom with the A level performances for which his Directorial reputation has been built. Both Cooper Hoffmann and Alana Haim are effortless in their roles and they do leap off of the screen with verve and charisma from the moment we see them and regard their undeniable chemistry. 

As for the film as a whole...well...

Just as it has been for me during Anderson's last few films, "Licorice Pizza" is an experience that works in fits and starts and never does it ever add up to anything cohesive. Moments work extremely well. Images captivate. Certain scenes and sequences in and of themselves are entertaining, funny, seductive and the way that he films the characters of Gary and Alana often in a state of running, either together, or towards each other, or even to or away from some event or place, it often feels like the sensation of flight. There is so much about this film that is good to great that it is almost maddening to me to me to reach the film's conclusion, which arrives with a certain sense of majestic romantic triumph, that my response to it was nothing more than being perplexed by the entire enterprise.

This is where we get to this concept of the "engine" that I began this posting with. I do not need or want Paul Thomas Anderson to tell me what to think or how to feel about his story. I do, however, wish to have a feeling that even he knows what he thinks of his own material. Again, the engine is not about plot, per se, for none of the movies in Paul Thomas Anderson's filmography really possess or are even driven by plots. His characters are the engines. His settings are the engines. The motivations that rest within the characters and how they relate to each other and their settings are the engines.

 

In his earlier films like "Boogie Nights" (1997), "Magnolia" (1999) and even "Punch-Drunk Love" (2002), the approach and effect was bracing and visceral. In his recent films, again bringing about the aesthetic comparison to Kubrick, the effect is more cerebral as if Anderson is taking a bird's eye view of his subject matter rather than swimming in the guts of them. Frankly, I am missing the PTA of old for the current one and I are just not matching up like we used to.

And it is a shame as "Licorice Pizza" feels to be the next phase in tales of sun drenched California on the cusp of change in the at the dawn of and during the early 1970s. In fact, this film could be on a mythical triple bill with Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" (2000) and Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" (2019), especially as Anderson's film feels to align more strongly with the drifting tone and deliberate pacing of Tarantino's film, as "Licorice Pizza" often feels like a dream or a memory that is too difficult to recapture.  

In doing so, the engine of young, wayward adolescence and potential love carries a surprisingly lack of weight, turbulence, restlessness and urgency, despite how strong Hoffmann and especially Haim actually are. It so often feels like Gary and Alana have a romance solely because the script says they are supposed to and for no other reason. It was confounding to believe. 

Yes, there have been questions about the age differences between the characters, and therefore, the appropriateness of their romance, as Gary is again 15 while Alana is 10 years older. Understandably, it is easy to fathom why an excitable15 year old would desire a 25 year old woman. But why on Earth would Alana, for all of her rejections of his advances, keep returning to Gary? This is a compelling element of the character of Alana Kane but I honestly question if Paul Thomas Anderson entertained that question at all and it is a shame as well as a disservice. 

With Gary, he felt to be a variation fall of the adult male characters, he and Alana engage with throughout the film, as they are all hustlers, and lascivious ones to varying degrees. He is their past and they are his future. Why Alana, who feels to be (or wishes to be) bursting with independence, over and again, falls into stagnation around various men and Gary? She obviously desires to be out from under the influence of her family (as portrayed by seemingly the entire Haim family) but she is often paralyzed through domineering and sometimes, nasty male influences, which always seem to lead her back to Gary. Is Anderson musing on female arrested development, an impenetrable patriarchal structure just this far from Hollywood, or really anything else? I honestly do not know and I would be hard pressed to think that Paul Thomas Anderson knew or even much cared. And so, if he didn't, then why should I? 

Paul Thomas Anderson's "Licorice Pizza" is beautiful to regard,  luxurious in its hazy, meandering tone. But, really, what was the point? If it was just an opportunity to work with friends and put on a show, then fine, have at it. 

That doesn't necessarily mean that it is just as fun to witness.

SAVAGE CINEMA DEBUTS: "LIFE, ANIMATED" (2016)

 

"LIFE, ANIMATED" (2016)
Based upon Life, Animated: A Story Of Sidekicks, Heroes and Autism by Ron Suskind 
Produced and Directed by Roger Ross Williams
**** (four stars)
RATED PG

How do we become the people that we each are? How do we find ourselves or even realize that we are already traveling upon roads in which to make the discovery? How do we find and write our own stories that are within ourselves? And for that matter, do those stories exist within us the entire time just waiting for us to locate them and then express them as ourselves to  ourselves and others as we venture into the world?

As incomprehensible it is to fathom for those of us who happen to be living without any sense of cognitive disabilities, it is striking for me to try and place myself into a possible mind/emotional space as if I were a person living with a cognitive disability. If I were autistic, for instance, what does an inner journey like the one I described even mean? 

In my real world life as a preschool teacher, I have had countless experiences over 25 years working with children who have been diagnosed or would eventually be diagnosed on some level, of the autistic spectrum, from high functioning to those who are assisted with specialized aides, to those who are essentially non-verbal and unable to communicate in a so-called standard fashion. I am not an expert by any means and even when speaking with professionals trained in this specialized field of working with children with autism, there remains this element of the unknown. How can we, as teachers, every really know that we are reaching and connecting and vice versa? I have often wondered what it would be like if I could purchase a ticket to get a ride around the brains of any of my students with autism. What would I find? What might it be like to experience how they experience the world?

I remember seeing the trailer for Roger Ross Williams' documentary "Life, Animated" five years ago and for whatever reasons, I just never got around to seeing it even though it instantly garnered my interest. As these things go, I forgot about it, and somehow, it came to me the other day and I found it on YouTube in its entirety of all places...and FREE to stream. What resulted for me was an undeniably moving, magical, mysterious film that truly extended far beyond its subject matter of following one subject and his family, to allowing to think of myself, to even the transformative power of the movies and all art, for that matter, as a means to translate emotions into connection.    

Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" invites us into the lives of the Suskind family, as we explore two distinct stages in their lives. In one, we meet the family patriarch Ron Suskind, then the Senior National Affairs writer for The Wall Street Journal, his wife Cornelia, older son Walter and younger son Owen--who was diagnosed with regressive autism at the age of 3, when he suddenly lost the capabilities of speech and his communicative skills and fully withdrew into silence. In the second time period, we experience the adult Owen, at the age of 23, speaking, communicating and readying himself for graduation, moving out of his home to enter his own apartment in an assisted living community. 

Yet, what had transpired between the two periods was nothing short of inexplicably miraculous. For after a year of silence from Owen, he and his family surprisingly discovered and learned how to communicate with each other through Owen's love of animated Disney films, which he watched habitually. By his adulthood, Owen's passion for Disney remained steadfast as the films assisted him with processing his emotions, self-awareness and place in the world, especially via the sidekick characters he adored, as well as offering him guidance, solace, comfort, motivation, confidence, creative inspiration and growing self esteem to aid his navigation into a world that is markedly not like a Disney film.

Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" is a wonder of a film. No,  this experience is not a treatise upon  autism itself from a clinical standpoint but is presented through a more emotional lens, as Williams and the Suskind family attempt to give the viewer a sense of what Owen's life feels like. And in doing so, we can gather a sense of what it might be like to either walk in Owen's shoes or to be the people who care for him and at best, a little bit of both. This is why all of the interview footage, Suskind home movies and videos, and having Owen address us directly to the camera and explaining what life feels like for him is more beneficial in this case than viewing something more explicitly Scientific, so to speak. The emotion brought me closer instead of keeping me at arms length.

Even further are the film's animated sequences as devised by the visual effects company Mac Guff. What is notable about these sequences as a conduit into the inner experience of Owen Suskind, is how they are based within, and therefore augment, Owen's own illustrations and storytelling, all developed from his communicative re-emergence via Disney films. Which then, delves deeper into the similarities and differences between those living with autism and those who do not. I do not wish to over-simplify anything regarding this subject matter but Owen's story made me question just how far apart he and I (a person not on the autism spectrum) actually are or not, as well as the greater issues of how outside stimuli, especially when accessed through pop culture, inspire and therefore, unlock. 

This may seem silly but bear with me. As a child, I was obsessed with The Monkees. They were the very first band that I ever loved and the television series was pure joy to experience for me, from their antics and of course, the bounty of great songs performed in every episode. At that time, and even as an avid record store traveler, albums by The Monkees were almost impossible to find, so as a means of gathering a collection of the music, I would sit in front of the television with a tape recorder and record every episode (while praying for the telephone to not ring thus ruining a perfect recording).

For whatever reason, at some point, I wanted to extend this experience and so, using my tape recorder and a typewriter, I began transcribing everything I recorded, thus essentially reproducing television scripts for myself. Again, I didn't know why I was performing this feat but I wanted to, I enjoyed myself, I gained satisfaction from it. Now, as an adult, I firmly believe that I used my love of The Monkees, and furthermore, my love of the movies and the written word, as a means to deconstruct a television show all the way to existing as words upon a page. I wanted to see how movies worked conceptually, which over time, led me to writing original scripts and writing overall. I believe Savage Cinema exists today because of whatever was living inside of me, that I could not articulate because I was so young, but needed to find a way to be expressed. And now, I as of you to just think about yourselves, who you are now and who you were then and how much did you just know about yourself or how much time did it take to reveal yourself to yourself? 

My love and obsession of all things John Hughes perhaps, is much more akin to what we see with Owen and his love of Disney films. As I have expressed many times upon this site, Hughes' work during my teen years served as the best and most indispensable guide to adolescence that I could have wished for as they performed much of the same feats. They were entertaining, of course. But, they existed as solace, comfort, much needed humor, understanding, patience, empathy and as a means of me trying to understand myself to myself, especially when I just didn't have the words on my own but just these seemingly intangible emotions.   

That is part of the magic of the movies. The ability to allow us to be transported visually and emotionally into an experience we otherwise would never have on our own in our daily lives. Cinematic storytelling additionally allows us a window into ourselves, as we constantly on our individualized journeys of self discovery. And at their best, the movies will deliver that story, character or feeling that we can each recognize within ourselves. Those moments that make us announce to ourselves, "That's ME!" Within "Life, Animated," the connection between Owen and Disney films is palpable and often mesmerizing to regard as it is his story while also being our story as our respective engagements with the human condition are universal.     

But even so, these connections and guidance do have their limits.

As wondrous as it is to witness how Disney animated movies allowed Owen Suskind an avenue to communicate with his family and begin his understanding of his own life experience, the films also helped him with entering a life of schooling, growing up, forming a Disney Club with the purpose of making friends and exploring life via the films together. The films inspired him to draw and create his own art, to become a storyteller, to graduating, to obtaining his own apartment, to even writing and giving a speech in France about his life as a young man living with autism. All of that being said, Roger Ross Williams' film also gently expresses the precariousness of such a connection. To paraphrase Owen's Mom, life always changes while Disney films will always stay the same.

Which again makes me question just how far apart is someone like Owen to myself, especially as pop culture is so prevalent? I know that my notions of love and romance were as fueled by John Hughes' films as they were by the music I cherish and has formulated me. However, much like as so richly described in Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, life is not a pop song and that sweeping romantic ending has never come to pass in the way that Hughes' films gave me hope, and I would gather that for you, there are similar stories.    

The late sections of "Life, Animated," as Owen makes his way into his apartment and therefore, begins to have the adult experiences he has expressed nervousness and excitement about throughout the film. These are sequences fraught with a certain eggshell tension as we have grown our affection for Owen and only wish to see him succeed. Upon moving in, for instance, there is a moment when is unable to find his medication and he is now alone in his apartment without anyone to assist him. Interpersonal relationships suddenly change. What of finding employment? What of Owen's attitudes towards sex and sexuality? And then, there is the slow moving inevitability that his parents are aging and will one day pass on, leaving his older brother Walter as the protector, a responsibility he is willing to face but is unsure of how. The Disney films may hold the comfort but they do not hold all of life's answers and the questions of how that reality plays out with Owen are as fascinating as they are sometimes aching.

I am friends and co-teachers with a wonderful young woman who happens to have a twin brother living with autism. I have not met him but as she has described him to me, I am understanding that he is indeed further along the spectrum than Owen Suskind due to the extent of his personal needs, including his communication skills or lack thereof. My friend also possesses a deep connection to Disney animated films and stories, as they have also served as a means of communication and connection between herself and her brother. As I watched "Life, Animated," I often thought of her and him and what their relationship has been like, as children and now as adults and most likely, facing some of the very same questions and quandaries that Owen and his family experience. If anything, the film gave me a slightly larger glimpse into her world as I regarded Owen Suskind's world. Again, the magic of the movies in action.     

   

Roger Ross Williams' "Life, Animated" is an emotional journey designed to build understanding and empathy as we gather a larger glimpse into the inner world of a 23 year old man living with autism  attempting to have a human experience. It is a beautiful film, poignant, enlightening and graceful in its directness and artfulness. And it accomplishes what the best documentaries do when operating at their finest for how much we can gather about our own lives as we learn about Owen's.