I'M NOT A LOSER. I'M A QUITTER: a review of "Rock The Kasbah"

"ROCK THE KASBAH"
Screenplay Written by Mitch Glazer
Directed by Barry Levinson
** (two stars)
RATED R

How is it possible that a film with a title as anarchistic as this one be as dry as an Afghanistan desert?

I am not sure precisely what it is about Bill Murray, but he, perhaps more than any other of his comedic contemporaries, has ingratiated himself so deeply within the public consciousness and pop culture, has built an affection from his audience that only seems to continue to grow and has also continued to surprise with the depths of his acting abilities and yet, so very often, the films he makes fall short. "Rock The Kasbah" is yet another effort that possesses quite the potential to become a Bill Murray classic yet never reaches the brass ring, let alone contains enough juice to even jump for it in the first place.

Under the surprisingly laconic direction of legendary Director Barry Levinson, "Rock The Kasbah" is an intermittently entertaining yet ultimately underwhelming film that merges the Murray persona of his early and current career with a political satire and even an earnest feminist drama that unfortunately settles and sludges along when it otherwise should be as explosive and as dangerous as a firecracker left to explode inside of your hands.

"Rock The Kasbah" stars Bill Murray as Richie Lanz, a down and just-this-close to being out of business rock music manager, who takes his final singing client (yet employed as his secretary), Ronnie (a funny Zooey Deschanel) on a USO tour of Afghanistan, yet finds himself abandoned in war torn Kabul without funds or his passport.

As he attempts to figure out a way to return to Van Nuys, California, Richie runs afoul of two hard partying war profiteers (Danny McBride and Scott Caan), a gruff mercenary (Bruce Willis), the worldly wise and weary hooker (Kate Hudson), the Afghani disco music loving cab driver (Arian Moayed) among others including dangerous war lords. Yet, on one deep, dark night in the desert, Richie  stumbles upon the sight and sound of Salima Khan (Leem Lubany), a Pashtun teenage girl with a golden voice and enormous dreams of becoming the first woman to sing and compete on Afghanistan television's version of "American Idol."

It is here where Richie Lanz discovers his meal ticket, and ultimately his purpose, as he knows in his bones that he is the only one able to make Salima's dreams come true, life threatening cultural objections be damned.

With "Rock The Kasbah," I can confidently express that Bill Murray has absolutely nothing to do with any of the film's failures. On the contrary, whatever successes the film does achieve rest almost solely with him as Murray truly carries the film and he delivers yet another strong performance to add to his expanding collection. Yes, and as previously stated, Richie Lanz is cut from the same cloth as the characters from Bill Murray's earliest films. Like the gently anarchistic heroes he portrayed in Director Ivan Reitman's "Stripes" (1981) and "Ghostbusters" (1984), for instance, Richie Lanz is another cantankerous, wayward layabout on an existential downward slide who finds himself placed within an extraordinary situation or series of circumstances armed mostly with his brilliantly wicked wit and restless ingenuity.

Yet, as Murray also demonstrated in Director Harold Ramis' "Groundhog Day" (1993), Director Sofia Coppola's "Lost In Translation" (2003), Director Wes Anderson's "The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou" (2004), Director Jim Jarmusch's "Broken  Flowers" (2005) and Director Theodore Melfi's "St. Vincent" (2014) among others, he unearthed a powerfully effective level of dramatic pathos to give his characters a newfound gravity, helping us to see the pain housed inside the laughter and how the laughter is indeed the essential fuel to keep him placing one footstep in front of the other.

Richie Lanz is no exception as we can study all of those wonderful lines in Murray's aged face, detailing all of the deep miles this character has undertaken in his long and not-so-illustrious career. Lanz is a charlatan, more than a bit of a cheat, a schemer and a scoundrel and even shades of Nick the Lounge Singer, Murray's iconic character from "Saturday Night Live," make an appearance. And still, Lanz carries a certain moral code and sense of  honor that is indeed unshakable, and as the film continues onwards and situations grow more dire for Salima, he becomes quite endearing. Bill Murray's peerless turn of a phrase and Wile E. Coyote-like persona goes a tremendous way within the entirety of "Rock The Kasbah." You are unable to take your eyes away from him and you never want to for even with the smallest raise of an eyebrow or the slightest shrug of a shoulder, Bill Murray remains in a class by himself.

So, it is a shame that like the very good yet terribly predictable "St. Vincent," we are given a terrific Bill Murray performance in a movie that never matches his inventiveness. The faults of this film for me do lie directly at the feet of Screenwriter Mitch Glazer and definitely Barry Levinson, who showed little of the comedic and directorial gifts he has displayed in the past time and again.

For Glazer, I can certainly express to you that "Rock The Kasbah" is not remotely short on ideas but that was the problem for me; it felt as if the film never really advanced beyond the idea stage. Character development, aside from Richie Lanz, exists at a bare minimum. Kate Hudson's character, especially arriving in 2015 is just thankless as well as a sad reminder that her finest work remains in Director Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" (2000). Honestly, can we please just place a moratorium over impossibly gorgeous hookers with hearts of gold once and for all?

Beyond that, the characters of the mercenary, the war profiteers, and frankly, all of the Afghanistan people are paper thin at best, even though they all feel as if there is much story to tell, especially as they all exist within a very real and dangerous world. Yes, "Rock The Kasbah" is a comedy, but I did feel frustrated that Glazer's screenplay would have the audacity to enter into a world of deep moral, political, social, sexual, theological complications that the inevitable culture clash would be one worth exploring and therefore, satirizing, and Glazer just did not go for it. These characters all exist solely as ideas and never transcend the idea to become three-dimensional human beings, which would then give the proper gravity to the film to add essential weight and tension to the comedy.

The entire film truly hinges upon Salima Khan and it is a shame that "Rock The Kasbah" only seems to give brief lip service to the harsh reality implicit in a young woman daring to go on television, with fully exposed hair and face (with makeup to boot)and singing the songs of Cat Stevens in English. That concept by itself shows what a movie "Rock The Kasbah" could have been if Glazer fully committed to--once again with feeling--the ideas he set to paper in the first place. But all we have is a very pretty young woman looking hopeful and offering plastic platitudes and I firmly believe that a character like this deserved so much more than what was given to her.

But Barry Levinson certainly did Glazer's screenplay and the film overall no favors with his dry as the desert direction which had no energy, no snap, and no bite--all of which were on superior display in his brilliant "Wag The Dog" (1997) and most certainly, "Good Morning, Vietnam" (1987), two films of which "Rock The Kasbah" certainly could have existed as a companion piece. This was more than confounding to me as "Rock The Kasbah" is not only screaming for a go-for-broke teeth baring satire like John Cusack's wildly brutal passion project "War, Inc" (2008), but I was stunned that Levinson carried the same banal, dispassionate tonal quality throughout, even as the film slides from comedy to tragedy and back to comedy.

At one point late in the film, as situations are looking particularly grim, one character expresses to Richie Lanz and he is about to cut his losses and head for the hills, that he is a loser and a quitter, to which he replies, "I'm not a loser. I'm a quitter." "Rock The Kasbah" feels like that. While it is by no means a disaster, and does indeed find Bill Murray completely committed to his part of the proceedings, the film as a whole just kind of gives up...even before it ever really gets itself revved up.

'SCUSE ME WHILE I KISS THE SKY: a review of "The Walk"

"THE WALK" 
Based upon the memoir To Reach The Clouds by Philippe Petit
Screenplay Written by Robert Zemeckis & Christopher Browne
Directed by Robert Zemeckis
**** (four stars)
RATED PG

"I won an Academy Award when I was 44 years old but I paid for it with my 20s. That decade of my life from film school til 30 was nothing but work, nothing but absolute, driving work. I had no money. I had no life...The goal from here on is to balance my passion, because I do love it so much. It's kind of like the old saying about climbing a ladder and then realizing that it's up against the wrong wall. When you make one of the biggest movies of all time and you win an Academy Award, it forces you to look into the void, because it doesn't ultimately fulfill anything."
-Robert Zemeckis
Interview with Academy Of Achievement: A Museum Of Living History 1996

For nearly 40 years, filmmaker Robert Zemeckis has long established himself as one of our greatest cinematic magicians. Time and again, Zemeckis has delivered one eye popping sight after another and always filtered through his ever inventive directorial vision, providing generations with films that are truly for the ages.

Just think, within his very first film "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" (1978), he gave us a front row seat to wide-swept Beatlemania and somehow made us feel that we were witnessing The Beatles even though they never appeared upon screen. Or how about the deliriously awesome spectacle of witnessing human beings interacting seamlessly with cartoon characters in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" (1988). What of regarding Goldie Hawn parading through scenes with a shotgun blast hole blown completely through her middle in the wicked satire "Death Becomes Her" (1992). Or the life odyssey of a bumpkin, played beautifully by Tom Hanks, rubbing shoulders with all manner of historical dignitaries and iconic celebrities as if he were actually, truly present in "Forrest Gump" (1994). Zemeckis has allowed us to travel with Jodie Foster through the universe and back in "Contact" (1997) as well as through harrowing existential crises as presented in both "Cast Away" (2000) and "Flight" (2012). And of course, we cannot even begin to ignore the collection of air-tight time travel conundrums, paradoxes and near catastrophes experienced and endured by Marty McFly and Doc Brown in the...well...timeless "Back To The Future" trilogy (1985/1989/1990).

With the arrival of "The Walk," I feel that Robert Zemeckis has made one of his most magical films. It is exquisitely filmed and the ultimate effect is nothing short of exhilarating (even in 2D!). But beyond the sheer spectacle of the high wire escapade, Zemeckis has also presented a film that is not only multi-layered but one that just might possibly be his most personal, in regards to his artistic drive and determination and the successes and potential failings that accompany a relentless attention to his specialized brand of imagination and ingenuity. Yes, everyone is heading out to see Ridley Scott's "The Martian" and with a new film from no less than Steven Spielberg, as well as the rapturously well reviewed "Steve Jobs" waiting in the wings, there is the possibility that "The Walk" just might find itself lost in the cracks. But trust me, dear readers, Robert Zemeckis has delivered the goods once again, triumphantly so, and I would just hate for you to miss this glorious film upon the BIG SCREEN that is was purely designed to be seen.

"The Walk" stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt in a thrilling, fully engaging performance as real life French high-wire artist Philippe Petit as he prepares and performs his historical (and illegal) tightrope walk between the two, as yet unfinished twin towers of the World Trade Center on August 7, 1974.

Over the course of just a hair over two hours, Zemeckis, utilizing the direct to the camera/audience narration by Petit, takes us through Petit's childhood, origins as a French street performer and fascination with becoming a wire-walker, his romance with street musician Annie (Charlotte Le Bon), his teachings from legendary tightrope performer Papa Rudy (Ben Kingsley) and his voyage to New York as he builds a covert crew to assist him with his covert quest to nearly reach the clouds.

The film's dazzling, nearly 20 minute, climax features Philippe Petit's historic walk to the awed eyes of the citizens of New York plus his crew and the arsenal of police officers hoping to reel Petit back to safety.

Robert Zemeckis' "The Walk" is unquestionably a feast for the eyes from the 1970's period details to the almost vertigo inducing sequences miles high above the ground. For those of you who just may see this film in 3D, I firmly believe that Zemeckis has pulled out all of the stops and you just may find yourselves hanging onto your theater seats so as not to feel as if you are falling off of the world. Awards season had better to be most generous to Cinematographer Dariusz Wolski, who in collaboration with Zemeckis, has fashioned a visual palate from beginning to end that is completely immersive and stunning, making the special effects entirely seamless with the real world surroundings and actors.

It is a film that sits beautifully with the remainder of Zemeckis' filmography, especially his friskier features like the aforementioned "Back To The Future" series and even the raunchy satire "Used Cars" (1980), as those films each featured a collective of characters hatching all manner of plots and schemes to which we in the audience would fall into sheer delight viewing how their plans would inevitably go awry and how they wriggle themselves out of the jaws of failure over and again. Essentially, Zemeckis has even outdone Director Steven Soderbergh's "Ocean Eleven" (2001) as he has made almost the ultimate caper film, as Philippe Petit, the consummate showman, wishes to deliver an unexpected experience, the likes of which could never be performed again and one that crucially has to be kept secret from the public in order to make its intended impact of jaw dropping awe.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is absolutely wonderful as Petit. While his French accent may not be perfect, he more than makes up for any discrepancies through the energy, intensity, balletic physicality and existential pathos he pours into his full performance. His magnetism is as infectious as it is exciting, fully making us understand how Annie, French photographer Jean-Louis (Clement Sibomy), French speaking New Yorker J.P. (James Badge Dale), life insurance salesman Barry Greenhouse (Steve Valentine) and even a genteel Frenchman named Jeff (Cesar Domboy), who incidentally houses a fear of heights, would follow him entirely during such a foolhardy scheme, and eve remain with him as they endure Petit's arrogance, anger, and moments where he seems to be slipping away into madness. But Petit remains fully steadfast, either with his crew or addressing the audience from atop his perch at the peak of the Statue Of Liberty, fully serving his muse, his inspiration, his reason for being as well as the city of New York itself, making him a figure we want to believe in as well as follow.

Even so "The Walk," just like "The Martian" is a testament to what we as human beings are able to achieve and accomplish just by working together and believing in one another. With that, Zecmekis has crafted a film that works as a metaphor to the life experience itself, for what is the unpredictable nature of life but a veritable tightrope walk each and every day. What of the changes and curve balls life throws at each and every one of us at one time or another. From changes that are either self-induced or forced, to be thrown from one's perceived path into another requires unquestionable strength and agility and may also house tremendous doubts of one abilities and fears of absolute failure. Every step we take each day is yet another step into the void, the unknown and Petit's walk across the twin towers serves as a powerful image to all lives lived but also as a stirring testament to the people of New York City and the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001.  

And still, there is the matter of the quotation with which I opened this review. With Philippe Petit and his crew, I could not help but to think that "The Walk" may also serve as an allegory to the filmmaking career of Robert Zemeckis himself as Petit could easily be viewed as the Zemeckis stand-in, a feverishly creative figure surrounded by a team of individuals, all working to serve his artistic vision no matter where it takes him. I can only imagine what it would have been like to have worked alongside this man for many years and on the projects he has released to the world as well as what role his brand of dogged determination and dedication may have played within his personal life. A final scene between Petit and Annie certainly does present an interpersonal tension that can arise when both people are attached to one person's dreams and I do believe that we just may be asked to wonder how Zemeckis, and therefore, how all of us, are able to achieve that sense of balance in life--itself another tightrope walk that is often precarious yet not impossible.

I am so very thankful as a film-goer that Robert Zemeckis has indeed dedicated himself so thoroughly to his art, repeatedly providing me with glorious times at the movies. But he is indeed a human being first, and I would hate to think that he may have sacrificed a certain sense of personal happiness for artistic glory. Hopefully, he has indeed found that balance and furthermore, with a circle of individuals to offer him support and encouragement in turn.

That is indeed the beauty of a film like "The Walk" as it successfully merges the thrill ride with the profound, one that transcends its primary subject matter, making for an experience that is specific to the life experience of Philippe Petit, personal for Robert Zemeckis and universal for all of us watching, gasping in awe as we regard one risk filled step after another into the unknown.

LIFE ON MARS: a review of "The Martian"

"THE MARTIAN" 
Based upon the novel by Andy Weir
Screenplay Written by Drew Goddard
Directed by Ridley Scott
***1/2 (three and a half stars) 
RATED PG 13

Is it really amazing to me that a movie that is actually quite traditional can now exist as something astoundingly audacious.

2015. When I think of the year, especially now that I am living comfortably inside of it, I look back to the images that originally conjured within my brain as I conceptualized what 2015 could possibly look, feel and be like. I don't necessarily mean flying cars and such (although those did pass through my imagination), but I had wondered if we, as a human society, would have advanced far beyond anything that I could conceive. Maybe it was all so naive of me, my head filled with such daydreams. But even so, the concept of 2015, and even the 21st century in and of itself,  just seemed to be unfathomable to me.

And yet, here we are and life in the 21st century is indeed unfathomable to my perceptions as to how regressive we have become in some ways, especially regarding the nature of facts, Science, Math, the pursuit of intelligence and even the nature of reality itself. With a sea of political leaders and Presidential candidates all turning their backs against all that is real, plus the defunding of NASA and a cultural dialogue that has grown destructively vitriolic and divisive, the world where I thought we would be striving for new discoveries has been seemingly replaced by a world that finds the pursuit of knowledge more of a burden than a virtue. It sometimes makes me feel like I would want to fly off into the skies, the stars and points unknown just to rid myself of all that is so obviously holding humanity backwards.

Director Ridley Scott's "The Martian," a terrific adaptation of the best selling Andy Weir novel, is a richly rendered experience that serves as a cultural antidote as well as a simultaneous celebration and lament for all we are capable of as well as for how much we are losing and have already lost. Even so, it is a film which possesses a surprisingly heartfelt overflow of the best of humanity, especially coming from a filmmaker who has been traditionally prickly, cynical and clinical. "The Martian," existing as a film that contains so much isolation, is a wonderfully inclusive motion picture that finds Ridley Scott exhibiting tremendous focus and energy, therefore making one of the most entertaining and involving films of his long career.

"The Martian" stars Matt Damon as Astro-Botanist Mark Watney, crew member of the Ares III and stationed upon Mars. When an intense sandstorm arises, forcing the crew to depart the planet, an accident separates Watney from the remainder of the crew, leaving him lost and presumed dead.

Yet, on the morning after the storm, Watney awakens to find that he has not only survived, he is now alone and stranded upon the red planet without means of communication to NASA. Realizing that he now has to "science the shit" out of his new surroundings, he utilizes his skills as a botanist to grow crops within an artificial habitat, refurbishes the rover to make it capable for long journeys and he also keeps himself a video diary to help maintain his morale as well as his sanity as he calculates that he has possibly three years to survive, that is, all going well.

Meanwhile at NASA, engineer Vincent Kapoor (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and Mission Control satellite planner Mindy Park (Mackenzie Davis) receive satellite photos from Mars revealing that Mark Watney is indeed still alive. Enlisting the combined aid of NASA Director Teddy Sanders (Jeff Daniels), NASA spokesperson Annie Montrose (Kristen Wiig), Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) Director Brce Ng (Benedict Wong), astrophysicist Rich Purnell (Donald Glover), NASA Mission Director Mitch Henderson (Sean Bean), the Chinese National Space Agency and finally, the crew of the Ares III now aboard the Hermes (featuring Jessica Chastain, Michael Pena, Sebastian Stan, Kata Mara and Askel Hennie), a plan is formulated to try and rescue Watley and return him to Earth.

As you would expect, Ridley Scott's "The Martian" is a visually resplendent film, filled from beginning to end with A list production values, seamless special effects and armed with a cast that is uniformly excellent. Matt Damon once again provides a completely compelling performance that firmly illustrates that he is indeed one of our rare actors who is superbly able to hold the screen all alone for long stretches of time during this survivalist epic with strength, ease, remarkable depths of pathos and equally surprising sections of self-deprecating humor (just imagine being marooned on Mars with only disco music to listen to), making this an experience that works very well as a companion piece to films like Director Robert Zemeckis' "Cast Away" (2000), Director Danny Boyle's "127 Hours" (2010) and Director Alfonso Cuaron's "Gravity" (2013).

Additionally, "The Martian" is a film that sits most comfortably alongside past interstellar epics like Writer/Director Philip Kaufman's "The Right Stuff" (1983), Director Ron Howard's "Apollo 13" (1995), Director Christopher Nolan's "Interstellar" (2014) and of course, Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey" (1968), as Ridley Scott presents an outer space excursion based not in fantasy, but one filled with ideas and tangible concepts as the reality of Science and Math are placed center stage in Mark Watley's survivalist and existential crisis.

That being said, the familiarity of "The Martian" to all of those aforementioned films did lend itself to a certain predictable nature that, at least for me, downplayed some of the film's more visceral qualities as I have seen this sort of thing many times before. But truth be told, Ridley Scott has not fashioned "The Martian" to function as a white knuckle thrill ride like "Gravity,"although both films share similar themes, most notably attempting to survive within the unpredictable, unforgiving nature of space. But even so, and as engrossing as the film is, I wasn't as swept away as I had hoped that I would be, possibly due to Scott's more clinical directorial hand.

Regardless, where"The Martian" does indeed find its considerable thrills, and therefore, its conceptual fuel, is completely within the inherent drama that is housed inside of problem solving and collaboration in order to achieve a common goal. No small feat and Scott achieves several sequences of riveting drama that solely focuses on individuals confronting a situation, and being forced to conceptualize another angle, another avenue, another plan of attack.

Dear readers, there truly is something to be said about watching a collective of individuals utilizing their intellects and not weapons in order to achieve success. And while some have celebrated the film by facetiously utilizing the terms "nerds," I actually have to discredit that very description because honestly, why is one dismissively considered to be less than another just because one happens to be intelligent? In contrast, I found the characters of "The Martian" to be nothing less than heroic, knowing that sheer brain power combined with empathy and humanity is an awesome tool to behold and within the realm of Science, Math, Physics and the like, it is not a tool so easily discovered, and one that provides the film with a sense of honest uplift.

But let's get back to where we are in 2015 within the real world and where "The Martian" fits inside of it. As I have previously stated, Ridley Scott has created a film that while being very much of the present, is indeed quite old-fashioned and familiar. Even so, and considering the destructive nature of our current socio-political landscape, I truly felt it to be an act of sheer audacity to create a big budget motion picture (which has already become a box office hit), a two and a half hour epic that is essentially proclaiming from start to finish: "SCIENCE IS REAL!!!!!"

Just think about it for a moment. We currently have a candidate running for President who actually is a scientist yet somehow does not believe in the reality of climate change and has even openly questioned the origin of gravity and he's one of the front runners for the Republican party! That reality says as much, if not more, about our populace as it does about the candidate himself and furthermore illustrates the danger to all of us if we allow those who would adhere to ideology rather than reality to have their hands upon the wheels. "The Martian," at its best, is a showcase for a specialized brand of ingenuity, discovery, and imagination, all of which arrives completely through the knowledge of Science and Math, something I feel that should be celebrated and not twisted to be seen as tools for the elite.

And therefore, it is the communal aspect of "The Martian" that provides the film with its honest and earned uplift, by showing how Science, Math and intelligence itself can bring individuals together, not for commerce or for profit but for a cause that is humane. Considering the dark filmography of Ridley Scott, which includes the iconic outer space haunted house thrills of "Alien" (19179), the dystopian futuristic detective masterpiece "Blade Runner" (1982), plus the likes of the grim feminist road movie "Thelma And Louise" (1991), and even, the downright nihilistic "Prometheus" (2012), it is truly a wonderment that Scott has created a film that depicts the possibilities rather than the pitfalls and consequences, and it is, just as surprisingly, a good look for him.

That said, I would offer a word of caution towards his casting choices in regards to diversity, especially after all of the heat he deservedly shouldered for his lily-white casting of his Egypt set biblical epic "Exodus: Gods And Kings" (2014). While it was indeed a pleasure to see all of the different faces of color within "The Martian," and all functioning within a variety of careers to boot, it was solely among the men. Honestly, Ridley Scott, are there no female Scientists???? Yes, we have Jessica Chastain and Kate Mara as our astronauts but out of such a large cast and the collective of Scientists running all around the film, could none of them be women? Just think of the girls who could have been deeply inspired just by having a visual. No, this doesn't derail the film as a whole but it is a sore spot nonetheless.

But please do not allow those small dings to deter you from heading out to this film for Ridley Scott's "The Martian" is a crowd pleasing, visually stunning ode to the gifts of logic, reasoning and critical thinking, the kind of which can be utilized for the betterment of all.

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR OCTOBER 2015

Well, September was a much quieter movie month than I had anticipated.

Due to the lack of releases that I was interested in seeing plus having to deal with those initial illnesses of the new school year, I just didn't see very much of anything last month. But, I believe that it is all about to change as I head into October and this weekend specifically, as I will try my best to get out and see Director Ridley Scott's "The Martian" and even then, there's still Director Robert Zemeckis' "The Walk" which also opened just a few short days ago.

Beyond that...

1. Two words: "Steve Jobs." There is nothing that is going to keep me away from Director Danny Boyle and Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin's bio-pic drama starring Michael Fassbender, which has already earned some rave reviews from some recent festival screenings.

2. Then, we also have the Cold War drama "Bridge Of Spies," starring Tom Hanks and directed by none other than my man, Steven Spielberg. 'Nuff said.

3. And even then, there's my main man, Mr. Bill Murray who returns with the political satire "Rock The Kasbah" from director Barry Levinson.

4. Finally, I am not certain if this film will reach my fair city this month but I am very curious about Writer/Director Cary Fukunaga's "Beasts Of No Nation," also earning high buzz.

That's more than enough on my cinematic plate to try and get myself to. So, as always, wish me luck and good health...

...and I'll see you when the house lights go down!

THE COMEBACK KID: a review of "The Visit"

"THE VISIT"
Written and Directed by M. Night Shyamalan
*** (three stars)
RATED PG 13

It's been a very rough past few years in the creative life of Writer/Producer/Director M. Night Shyamalan. A cinematic figure essentially written off by critics and audiences alike after the considerably less than stellar efforts of the bedtime fairy tale "The Lady In The Water" (2006), the ecological horror of "The Happening" (2008), the undeniably awful live-action adaptation of "The Last Airbender" (2010), the valiant but failed effort at beginning a new anthology series with"The Devil" (2010), and the brutally panned "After Earth" (2013)--which I didn't even see--Shyamalan, after being hailed by a Time magazine cover feature as the "New Spielberg," was now seen as basically no more than a hack who just got lucky with his breakthrough feature "The Sixth Sense" (1999). 

As for me, while I never considered Shyamalan to be the next Spielberg or anyone else for that matter, I too was won over by the skill, creativity and ingenuity of "The Sixth Sense," a film that still holds up strongly in terms of the harrowing, ghostly atmosphere it creates, the depth of the writing and performances and of course, that terrific twist ending that works so masterfully and honestly. For me, his follow-up feature "Unbreakable" (2000) remains his finest effort and I still feel that "Signs" (2002) and even the subversive "The Village" (2004) are worthy successors to his very best films. But as audiences began to throw Shyamalan to the cinematic curb, I still hung on anyway, either faithfully or foolishly.

I guess I really appreciated that M. Night Shyamalan is a filmmaker that carries a certain tone, point of view, personality and cinematic language that just spoke to my personal tastes and if they just did not speak to the masses then so be it. Any lack of connection with critics and audiences doesn't necessarily mean that he lacks talent, does it? For if popularity was the way to measure quality then the latest Michael Bay mega-excess piece of garbage would be the best film of the year...and we all know that will absolutely never happen! But, as I am wont to do, I digress...

Anyhow, I am wondering if M. Night Shyamalan is somehow finding his groove again. This summer, he succeeded with "Wayward Pines," a weird, wild and  genre shifting 10 episode limited television series he Executive Produced plus directed the premiere installment. Now, he returns to feature films with the tight, taut little thriller "The Visit," and even as a fan, albeit one whose interest was waning even as I was pulling for him, I have to say that I was happily surprised with the results. And for those of you who have indeed written M. Night Shyamalan off, well, "The Visit" certainly doesn't re-invent the wheel of the horror film but you also may be just as surprised at how effective and entertaining it actually is.

Utilizing the "found footage" hand-held camera style that is now a horror film staple, "The Visit" stars Olivia DeJonge as 15 year old budding documentarian Rebecca Jamison and Ed Oxenbould as her 13 year old brother (and imagined hip hop MC legend in making) Tyler Jamison.

As their lonely and divorced Mother (a strong Kathryn Hahn) prepares for a romantic getaway with her new love interest, Becca and Tyler are preparing for a week long stay with the Grandparents they have previously never met, Doris (a wonderfully unhinged Deanna Dunagan) and John, also known as "Pop Pop" (Peter McRobbie). Since their Mother has been long estranged from their Grandparents, and is also unwilling to discuss the day their relationship fell apart, Becca, with cameras in tow, intends to create a documentary about their visit, hoping to provide some sense of healing, closure and forgiveness amongst her family members.

Upon arriving at Doris and Pop Pop's abode in rural Pennsylvania, both Becca and Tyler begin to notice some oddities surrounding their Grandparents' behavior, which only increases and intensifies at night, as the children are instructed to not ever leave their bedroom after 9:30 p.m. With curiosity firmly piqued, Becca and Tyler are witness to their Grandmother crawling around the house on hands and knees like a raving animal, scrawling and scratching the walls while naked and profusely vomiting in the halls. Events in the daylight hours grow ever stranger as Doris appears to be undergoing a psychological breakdown with odd mood swings and as for Pop Pop, he is repeatedly dressing for a costume party that never occurs, mistakenly feels that strangers are following him and Tyler even discovers a batch of soiled adult diapers in Pop Pop's barn.

Where Tyler grows more suspicious, Becca chalks up the oddities to the fact that these are the strange habits of old people and remains steadfast in her cinematic pursuits. But soon, those strange habits begin to turn deadlier, leading to terrifying discoveries and confrontations during their final night in the house.

M. Night Shyamalan's "The Visit" certainly represents a return to form for the filmmaker as he has taken a "back to basics" approach that often reveals the very best of his talents as well as more confidently displaying a certain subversive and even nasty sense of humor that augments the scares and vice-versa. "The Visit" is a film that is tightly contained and smartly so. Echoing "Signs," the bulk of the film is contained to the Grandparents' house and grounds, therefore increasing the sense of isolation for both Becca and Tyler, as well as intensifying the primal comedy and fear that exists within children looking at unfamiliar adults with quizzically unsure eyes.

And here is where the "found footage" technique, one that I will even attest is a tired horror cliche, actually works very well within the confines of "The Visit." By keeping the action stationary to the house, we are therefore confined to a specific space. By viewing the entire proceedings through the lenses of the cameras that both Becca and Tyler operate, Shyamalan then confines everything we see to precisely what exists within the frame. This technique actually showcases Shyamalan's strengths as a filmmaker as I have consistently enjoyed how, especially within our over-stimulating era of filmmaking with ADD editing techniques and bludgeoning soundtracks, he is able to achieve so much actual tension and intensity by not doing very much at all. He has always been strongest knowing what to show, how much and when, in order to intensify the scares and overall sense of unease and with "The Visit," he accomplishes this feat very well. In addition to the "found footage" technique, "The Visit" is also a film that exists without a musical film score, thus allowing all of the film's many silences to provide the tenor of encroaching doom towards our young heroes, especially in the film's strong final third when all is revealed, and convincingly so. Yes, the "found footage" technique is tired, but so is the conceit of "don't open the door" and "don't go in the basement." And even so, M. Night Shyamalan makes both of those particular elements work well in his favor.

I have to first give credit to Shyamalan for his excellent casting choices as not only do Olivia DeJonge and Ed Oxenbould (who kind of looks like a very young Dax Shepard) resemble each other (and Kathryn Hahn) so strongly, they are very effective conduits for Shyamalan's story which is indeed sending up the horror genre as much as it is embracing it. These are two precocious, intelligent, verbose and sensitive children, enhanced with their own quirks and foibles, who go on and on about "cinematic integrity" and using the names of female pop stars as substitutes for curse words and who certainly ground the film within a certain reality, giving both the comedy and scares ample room to breathe and flow naturally.

A hide-n'-seek chase underneath the house turns from innocent to frightening and then concludes with a fine punch line while keeping the strangeness at the forefront. Grandmother Doris' genteel request for Becca to fully climb inside the oven in order to clean it provides some Gothic humor and queasiness. And those aforementioned adult diapers? Well, for you "germaphobes" out there...well, you'll just have to see that for yourselves but it too provides sick laughs while the danger only grows for the children.

As the Grandparents, both Peter McRobbie and  Deana Dunagan are highly effective. While McRobbie's aloofness as Pop Pop underlays the film with a sinister malevolence, it is Dunagan who flies off the handle with a madhouse glee. The twosome play off of each other so very well, providing two layers of darkness that ping-pongs between them, keeping the kids off guard while also delighting us in the audience with how much fun they are obviously having in trying to scare Becca and Tyler to death.

Now, "The Visit" is not perfect by any means. Some of the jokes are repeated one too may times and perhaps, the film could have been even scarier or more psychologically terrifying as it does not burrow under the skin as effectively as "The Sixth Sense" and "Signs," both of which left me considerably rattled. But, the film's epilogue, which has received some criticism, I actually found to be very effective considering the themes of fractured families, anger and forgiveness that are weaved throughout the film's entirety, again presenting that certain point of view that makes Shyamalan a most individualistic filmmaker who still has something to say about our collective humanity, while also trying to scare the pants off of us.

With that being said, I am hoping that M. Night Shyamalan takes whatever good fortune that may arrive from "The Visit" and utilizes it carefully to rebuild the talent that I still attest that he possesses.

YOU JUST HAVEN'T EARNED IT YET, BABY: a review of "Mistress America"

"MISTRESS AMERICA"
Screenplay Written by Noah Baumbach & Greta Gerwig
Directed by Noah Baumbach
* (one star)
RATED R

Someone...anyone just really needs to tell Greta Gerwig to stop...and immediately!

Dear readers, let me just say up front that I have nothing against Greta Gerwig on a personal level. I do not know her and truth be told, she just may be a wonderful human being who is a wonderful romantic partner, daughter, best friend to all, champion of animals and the environment, assists little old ladies across the street and whatever else a terrific person could be and possibly encompass. All of that being said, and based solely on her talents as an actress and regardless of the heaps of critical accolades that have been hurled her way, I absolutely, positively cannot become a member of her fan club.

I just do not understand the appeal that Gerwig possesses and has somehow bewitched critics and audiences with. Over her three films with Writer/Director Noah Baumbach, which includes the so-so and somnambulant "Greenberg" (2010) and the horrendously plastic "Frances Ha" (2013), Gerwig has demonstrated over and again that she is just not nearly as beguiling and entrancing as critics, audiences, Baumbach and Gerwig herself thinks she is. She just strikes me as a figure who desperately wishes to be the next great comedienne but is somehow just too smug to allow herself to fully let her inhibitions go and just be a comedienne as she is too busy checking herself out in the mirror all the while.

My perceptions of Gerwig's screen persona were fully confirmed in "Mistress America," Baumbach's second feature of 2015, following up his absolutely terrific return to form "While We're Young" from earlier this year. With "Mistress America," we are given the flip side of Noah Baumbach's cinematic coin. Where "While We're Young" was witty, perceptive, multi-layered and even refreshingly bitter, "Mistress America" almost re-defines shallowness as it manufactures a world where not one character, situation or motivation passes for anything approximating the way people truly live, breathe interact and feel.

Yes, I can see that Baumbach and Gerwig were attempting to craft a screwball comedy, where the dialogue and behaviors exist within a heightened state. But is there any reason, that for all of the prefabrication, nothing felt to be remotely true considering the story it is trying to tell? And at the center of this plastic confection sits Greta Gerwig, mugging endlessly and flouncing around like the most untalented kid in the school play but who has unctuously convinced herself that she is a Shakespearian trained actress..and will never let you forget it. "Mistress America" is another insufferable tripe of a film that shows how Gerwig brings out the worst of Bambach's creative tendencies. In fact, the best thing that I can say about Noah Baumbach's "Mistress America' is that it is only a mere 84 minutes.

"Mistress America" begins promisingly enough as we are introduced to 18 year old Tracy Fishko (played by Lola Kirke), a college Freshman at Barnard University in New York City who is struggling with finding her way in her new environment. Utterly friendless, floundering in her classes and failing to gain the attention of the campus'elite literary journal, Tracy falls into loneliness and disappointment as college and life in New York City have not proven themselves to be the wondrous time she had possibly envisioned for herself.

While on a phone call with her Mother (played by Kathryn Erbe), it is suggested that Tracy should reach out to her soon-to-be step sister, the 30 year old Brooke (played by Greta Gerwig), who lives in the city. Tracy soon obliges and upon meeting Brooke, she is swept away by Brooke's adventurousness and undeniable free spirit which contains all manner of nightclubbing, romantic big city apartment living, Brooke's continuously shared stories of her romantic entanglements, personal resentments and her long desired dreams of owning a trendy (but not too trendy) N.Y.C. restaurant.

Tracy and Brooke, become fast friends as Brooke's madcap personality, combined with her wacky plans to attain funding for her dream restaurant as well as plot revenge against Mamie-Claire (played by Heather Lind), her former roommate and self-described "nemesis" entrances Tracy and even inspires Tracy's writing, which covertly emerges as the satirical (and highly unflattering) short story entitled "Mistress America."

All of the threads come to head as Tracy and Brooke, with Tracy's one friend/writing rival Tony (Matthew Shear) and his jealous girlfriend Nicolette (Jasmine Cephas Jones) in tow, embark upon a road trip to Mamie-Claire's wealthy upstate New York abode, for money and retribution, not necessarily in that order. Hilarity ensues...

Noah Baumbach's "Mistress America" very much like "Frances Ha" is a film that contains many good ideas and a worthy storyline but is just much too in love with its own sense of self-congratulatory quirkiness and pseudo intelligence to bother to condescend to just telling a decent story. It is precisely the very type of indie film that people who hate indie films would point to as why they hate indie films, and frankly, I could not blame them at all. This is a film that doesn't seem to exist in a world that feels remotely recognizable as the entire escapade feels contained within a set of quotation marks thus giving the film as a whole an ironic distance that works against the good will it is obviously trying to achieve...but without relinquishing any sense of hipster status in the process.

From the ironic stiffness of every performance, in which the entire cast behaves as if they know only too well they they are existing within a screwball comedy, therefore draining any stitch of comedy from the proceedings, to the faux '80s electronic pop score by Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips, Baumbach undercuts any sense of truth and poignancy from "Mistress America" and ultimately all of the fun as well. It is the type of film where everyone, but mostly Greta Geriwg's character, speaks in non-sequiturs that feel so labored over and are littered profusely throughout the screenplay, whether they make any narrative sense of not. Want some examples?

"New York isn't the New York I used to know. There's too much construction." 
or
"I thought I might actually go to college. I'm not an amputee."
or
"I'll probably end up doing something depressing, but young."
or even
"There's no adultery when you're eighteen. You should be touching each other all the time."

Now on the surface, these may seem to be like some good one-liners but within the content of "Mistress America" as a whole, they all felt as if Baumbach and Gerwig came up with these statements first and then tried to write a full story and screenplay around the lines instead of having the characters arrive at these so-called witticisms organically. It all felt to be so very false and made for a film that was indeed cringe worthy to just listen to as well as one where you would feel sorry for the actors who had to speak this nonsense.

But again, this all goes back to Greta Gerwig, who did indeed co-write this screenplay, and it feels as if she is so preciously in love with her words and Baumbach is so preciously in love with Gerwig that there was never a critical eye towards the project, externally and internally within the characters themselves. Yes, there are points where it seems that Tracy and therefore Baumbach is attempting to be somewhat critical of Brooke's outlandishness, most notably in a good scene where Brooke is confronted by a former high school classmate she once tormented and teased. But, as with everything else in "Mistress America," anything more probing is just waved away because Brooke, and therefore Geriwg is just so damn adorable and funny, that no matter what she does, all is forgiven. In fact, it is that very element within the conception and treatment of Brooke that plunges "Mistress America" to its downfall.

Let's be real, for all of Brooke's supposed free-spirited effervescence, it just stunned me that at no point during "Mistress America" did any character at any time ever wonder if Brooke was perhaps...oh, I don't know...mentally unstable. This isn't just a "pollyanna-ish" 30 year old who is wayward. Brooke is a young woman suffering from mania, delusions of grandeur, wild mood swings and is a habitual liar who exists within a powerful ADHD fueled narcissism. It would not surprise me if the character happened to be bi-polar but just like the character Tea Leoni portrayed in Writer/Director James L. Brooks' all over the place "Spanglish" (2004), Brooke is clearly suffering from some sort of mental illness that the characters and the movie itself flat out refuses to acknowledge, therefore undercutting any sense of credibility because the film is so in love with her.

Over time throughout the film, Tracy's sense of criticism of Brooke becomes not only adoration but sheer emulation in her own behaviors and soon, every character, even the ones who serve as antagonists, are just satellites to her insufferably self-congratulatory sense of whimsy, which Gerwig performs with a complete erratic quality that is so showy and hammy and without any sense of authenticity or depth that she was tremendously off-putting. Instead of drawing me in closer to her with a greater sense of understanding, Honestly, why is Brooke the way she is? Baumbach and Gerwig never once bother to try and delve under her surface, seemingly feeling that her prefabricated antics are enough to win audiences over. Not for me. Greta Gerwig's performance and "Mistress America" as a whole, just continued to not only keep me at arms length, it kept pushing me further and further away.

Look, Greta Gerwig, I have to concede, is just not for me and perhaps, and especially after three times at bat with Baumbach, any new film that features Gerwig (and really, any new film that she has co-written to boot), I should just give a wide berth. If you like her and find her cinematic gifts, such as they are, charming, more power to you and have a great time.

I just can't join in anymore.

THE CONVERSATION: a review of "The End Of The Tour"

"THE END OF THE TOUR"
Based upon the memoir Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself by David Lipsky
Screenplay Written by Donald Margulies
Directed by James Ponsoldt
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED R

"Was it good 4 U?/Was I what U wanted me 2 be?"
-Prince
"Controversy"

It continues to amaze me how a person's legend and our perception of that legend affects how we all then perceive the work that created that legend in the first place.

Dear readers, I have never read the late David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest, his enormously celebrated, encyclopedic 1,079 page novel (including footnotes) which not only earned the praise of literary critics but also the ever continuing notoriety which has also earned (or maybe has saddled) the novel with the reputation of being one of the finest books ever written. There was a time in my life, mostly during my 20's, when I would have relished a certain challenge with taking on the experience of reading such a lengthy, labyrinthine book but when it came to Infinite Jest, I always found myself pausing. During my then frequent visits to bookstores (ah memories), Wallace's tome was indeed a book I picked up, paged through and placed back down upon the bookshelves time and again and eventually, I gave up on the prospect and moved onwards. Perhaps the legend of the book was just too much for me to handle, jointly in regards to the book's mounting reputation and perceived difficulty as well as the level and quality of Wallace's actual writing, which I may have feared would be so superlative that any dreams I had been housing about pursuing any sort of prose writing on my own would have been painfully extinguished.

Those thoughts, long relegated to the deep recesses of my mind, came flooding back to the forefront as I viewed Director James Ponsoldt's striking and surprisingly visceral conversation piece "The End Of The Tour," a film that visualizes the relationship between David Foster Wallace (beautifully portrayed by Jason Segel) and Rolling Stone journalist David Lipsky (an equally riveting Jesse Eisenberg), who is assigned to interview the mercurial writer at the tail end of his Infinite Jest book tour. As the mega blockbuster films have all come and gone, nearly obliterating every other film within their collective paths, I urge you to head out and see this film as soon as you are able for you will indeed be handsomely rewarded with a briskly paced film that is filled with a level of richly textured performances, writing and direction that I sincerely feel will prove inspiring, whether in reading, in being creative or just in provoking a return to the art of interpersonal, face-to-face conversation in the 21st century.

"The End Of The Tour" opens in 2008, with David Lipsky's shocked reaction to the news of David Foster Wallace's suicide. The film then flashbacks 12 years earlier, shortly after the release of Infinite Jest, as Lipsky exists as a struggling novelist and dissatisfied writer for Rolling Stone. Initially, Lipsky elicits a certain skepticism towards the mountainous praise heaped upon the novel yet soon becomes a passionate convert, so much so that he convinces the magazine to allow him to travel to Wallace's home base of Bloomington-Normal, IL, near the state university where Wallace teaches a writing course, for an exclusive interview--the first Author interview to be potentially published in Rolling Stone in ten years.

Upon Lipsky's arrival from New York to the icy, wintry Illinois, he is greeted with Wallace's guarded yet affably eccentric nature during which the twosome begin to forge a tenuous connection through lengthy conversations (peppered with both men's voraciously shared love of nicotine and sweets) about dogs, women (including Wallace's long running crush over Alanis Morissette), the addictive nature of television, the nature of high vs. low art, as well as poignantly deeper yet somewhat generalized ruminations over the pressures of fame, loneliness, isolation, self-identity, how the world views you in relation to how you see yourself and the need to somehow remain the same individual who created the art in mind and spirit, especially after all of the accolades, attention and the perceptions they create within readers eagerly awaiting whatever will arrive next. Only when Lipsky dares to probe the darker aspects of Wallace's past, from his alcoholism, a rumored bout with heroin and his self-imposed institutionalization during which he was placed on suicide watch, do interpersonal frictions arise between Lipsky and Wallace, thus not only threatening the status of the interview but also Lipsky's desired meeting of the literary spirit between himself and Wallace.

Eschewing poor motel lodgings, Lipsky accepts Wallace's invitation to stay in his guest room, while also accompanying him to Minneapolis for the final stop of the book tour, which includes a bookstore reading and signing, an NPR interview, a chirpy tour guide (played by Joan Cusack), and a visit with two of Wallace's female friends, former college classmate Becky (played by Mickey Sumner) and literary critic/writer Julie (played by Mamie Gummer). Over the course of the three days, both Lipsky and Wallace are challenged and faced with their own respective foibles, failures, perceptions and misconceptions about themselves and each other as they individually attempt to navigate precisely what it means to be successful and furthermore, true to oneself in a world where integrity is a decreasing level of currency.

James Ponsoldt's "The End Of The Tour" is a compelling, engrossing and often captivating interior drama that houses an especially mesmerizing duet of performances at the core. Much like his previous feature, the excellent teen drama "The Spectacular Now" (2013), Ponsoldt has expertly crafted a multi-layered film that crystallizes a specific place as well as point in time during which his main characters are forced to confront themselves before being able to emotionally move forwards in life, if at all. I also deeply appreciated Ponsoldt's commitment to truly enveloping the audience within the physical landscape of his film, especially immersing us in the weather, therefore cementing the elements to the moods of the story and characters. Where the hazy, languid, end of summer environment informed the simmering emotions and pivotal changes that awaited the characters of "The Spectacular Now," the frigid, bitter winter of Illinois performs the same feats for "The End Of The Tour," as both Wallace and Lipsky are as burrowed within the shells of their emotions as they are from the elements, cautiously revealing themselves only to quickly dart back into a self-imposed protective hibernation all over again.

Mostly, I felt that "The End Of The Tour" was a film experience that proudly exists somewhere in between Director Louis Malle's "My Dinner With Andre" (1981) and Writer/Director Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" (2000), as Ponsoldt has weaved a provocative cinematic fabric that is not driven by any sense of a prefabricated plot but actually is as much about ideas as it is about the characters themselves, making for the rare film that provoke and encourages discussion and debate long after you have exited the theater. Ponsoldt has given us the dual character study of two deeply complicated men which serves as a passionately intellectual dance that is superbly fascinating as it simultaneously functions as a vibrant meeting of the minds as well as an exploration of or own success and fame obsessed culture, a culture that certainly performs more damage than good, even in the world of literature. And to that end, the casting of Jesse Eisenberg and Jason Segel in the leading roles could not have been any more perfect.

In a peculiar yet somewhat ingenious fashion, it feels as if the performances of both Eisenberg and Segal within "The End Of The Tour" serve as the culmination of both of their screen personas thus far while also representing the figures they each portray within Ponsoldt's film. As David Lipsky is envisioned, he could almost be seen as the fully adult version of characters Jesse Eisenberg performed within Writer/Director Noah Baumbach's "The  Squid And The Whale" (2005), Writer/Director Greg Mottola's "Adventureland" (2009) and certainly Director David Fincher's "The Social Network" (2010). While Lipsky is indeed intelligent and definitely skilled and talented enough to have written a novel and have it published as well, he remains internally unfulfilled as the cultural indifference to his written work, plus the Rolling Stone features that he feels are beneath his talents, have unearthed an increasingly aggressive level of competition that houses his latent jealousy, fears of inadequacy as well as an undercurrent of rage, especially towards a figure like David Foster Wallace who seemingly arrived out of nowhere to achieve the meteoric success that has eluded himself.

Taking all of those elements into consideration, it feels as if Lipsky's pursuit of Wallace contains increasingly muddled motivations of fan worship (just like the teenaged journalist in "Almost Famous," who mistakenly made friends with the rock stars) plus the disingenuous levels of competition, one-upsmanship and perhaps even attempting to discover that his interview subject is more than a bit of a fraud ("What's with the bandanna?" challenges Lipsky at one point). Throughout the film, Lipsky tries to emulate his subject (the chain smoking, for instance) while also trying to present a certain level of status that he perceives to be on an equal playing field as the celebrated author (for instance, Lipsky's compulsive need to utilize his Rolling Stone expense account as a completely inauthentic show-off tactic).

Through his behavior, which alternates from fawning to contentious, professional to cunning, David Lipsky blurs the lines between fan, journalist, critic and potential kindred spirit making for an interview and relationship that it more perilous and even duplicitous than necessary. Perhaps, some of that is due to the nature of the magazine journalism industry but we do often wonder just how much Lipsky is using Wallace for his own gain--as evidenced by the memoir from which this very film has been based. And even then, this realization provides the additional quandary of whether David Lipsky could have ever attained his level of fame and notoriety without David Foster Wallace in the first place. All extremely perceptive and compelling and Jesse Eisenbrg is equal to every moment.

As David Foster Wallace, Jason Segal has delivered his finest career performance to date. In addition to his eerie resemblance to the literary figure, Segal has triumphantly delved under the skin, providing seemingly effortless texture and depth in a beautifully understated fashion. I honestly know absolutely little to nothing about the real David Foster Wallace, but in regards to Segal's interpretation of him, I honestly took to this figure at face value despite all of David Lipsky's sly skepticism and jealousy.

For me, Segal's David Foster Wallace is a brilliant talent who is also remarkably self-aware about the completely unnatural aspect of his situation and has made a personal choice to remain as grounded as much as he is psychologically able. So, by choice, he remains in Illinois instead of relocating to the pop cultural hotbed of New York. He lives within a completely unassuming home, which Lipsky describes as being a bit of a "frat house," alone with two dogs, and close relationships are at a minimum, also perhaps by choice. His dress is Midwestern sloppy, all layered, baggy clothing with his ever present bandanna covering long, seemingly unwashed hair. He is indeed conversational, ready to engage in a wide variety of subject matter, but he does remain trepidacious with how much he is willing to reveal and even finds the nature of interviews themselves to be nothing more than falsifying works created to deliver public personas that may or may not be true. In fact, Wallace at one point even (jokingly?) suggests that Lipsky can write his article but he should send it to Wallace so that he can re-write all of his quotes, while at other points, Wallace is completely dismissive of the entire enterprise.

While Lipsky questions whether his appearance, and soft spoken nature is nothing more than an affectation that only enhances his public persona and belies his formidable intelligence and talent, Wallace is more than aware of those perceptions of him. As I watched "The End Of The Tour," I felt that Wallace was being presented not as a figure who was entirely cultivating a public image that ties in with this impossible novel...even though he is, to an extent, as he is indeed savvy enough to understand the nature of the beast in the fishbowl of celebrity.

Mostly, I felt that all of his mannerisms and motivations were a means of self preservation, as he is indeed a fragile, sensitive soul, while blessed with an intense talent, he also carries his internal baggage of addiction and depression. It was almost as if we were watching an adult version of Nick Andopolis, Segal's perpetually stoned yet deeply sensitive character from television's "Freaks And Geeks," someone who was/is repeatedly finding and losing his way, trying to remain sane and a good soul along the way. So perhaps, trying to remain and exist as simply as possible is Wallace's means of maintaining his sense of self and integrity in a world that would tear him down even faster than they built him upwards and touted him as a literary genius.  

David Foster Wallace's self-awareness is so precise that we can even gather that while he will play the celebrity game, he will do it only to a point. And he is also wise enough to realize that whatever celebrity has been granted to him, it can not only vanish even faster, but would that very cult of personality even taint the integrity of Infinite Jest to boot? Are people reading, and therefore continuing to read Infinite Jest in 2015 because of the inherent quality of the material and Wallace's skills as a writer or it everything tied into Wallace's persona and legacy? Even David Lipsky's arrival for the interview feels false because why else would Rolling Stone magazine even wish to speak with him if not for his (then) current status as golden goose, and whatever rewards they would receive in turn for hitching their train to his? For a creative person and soul like David  Foster Wallace, it would seem very likely that all of these conundrums about who is real and false within the widening canvas of his world (which is of course making him feel even smaller), would amount to an extremely confounding and painful hall of mirrors, when all he wishes is to just be left alone to create freely and Jason Segal's expertly pitched performance won me over instantly and completely.

After "The End Of The Tour" concluded, I found myself actually walking into a nearby bookstore just to see if any copies of Infinite Jest happened to be available for me to page through once again, especially as I could not even fathom a memory as to what the thing was about in the first place. Unfortunately, the book was not upon the shelf, but within the "Wallace" section of the fiction bookshelves, there was indeed an open space, perhaps freshly open, and just large enough for that book to have been housed inside of. I figured that since the release of the film, interest in the novel had resurfaced, therefore making my inquiry (and anyone else's) suspect as would our collective interest have been as organic as it could have been? Yet, on the other hand, does any of that even matter if Wallace's words are being read at all?  

This is the true satisfaction of James Ponsoldt's "The End Of The Tour," a film that is as wise as it is entertaining and heartfelt. At one point in the film, David Lipsky suggests that if the written work is the true representation of the author, then perhaps reading the book is a way of meeting the author without having to meet the author in person. And if this terrific film does indeed push me to finally come in contact with the literary work, and quite possibly, an idea of the humanity of David Foster Wallace, organic or no, I think it would have all been worth the time and the journey to find him.