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.  

HAPPY 12TH BIRTHDAY TO SAVAGE CINEMA!!!

 

Thank you, everyone! Honestly, graciously, thank you!!! 

It was 12 years ago on this date, as I was visiting my parents on a holiday visit, when Savage Cinema was born. I was sitting in their basement at their computer feeling absolutely terrified to hit the "PUBLISH" button for the very first time, wondering if this pursuit would be worth the trouble, if anyone would care, or even if I would let myself down in some way, because really, the world does not need even one more person to pine about the movies and there way no way I could ever reach the levels to which I aspired, which were my heroes, the late, great Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert.

I am a person who can talk myself out of anything and everything if given the room to just overthink and convince myself that my dreams are not worth following. This is a long standing issue with me and my brain and and hitting that "PUBLISH" button...as I think of those moments, I am just sadly sigh because I am imagining what I would have lost had my brain convinced me. I remember just sitting there, mentally at war with myself, telling myself that I could not accomplish this feat so, why even try? No one will care at all, so why even try? Who cares what I think, so why even try? And so on...

Somehow, some way and I really do not know how, I did indeed hit "PUBLISH" that very first time and that first time has led me to this moment in time after which 12 years of work has been written and still exists in its entirety right here upon this blogsite. T his is entirely where YOU come in because if none of YOU out there ever read, responded, and encouraged me to write another posting, Savage Cinema would have ended long before it ever had the chance to get started. My appreciation for YOU is endless for without YOU, I could not have encouraged myself to just keep going.  

I am not one to really take time to celebrate my own accomplishments. Partially because I just keep moving onto the next task and partially because my brain just continuously tries to downplay said accomplishments all the while telling me that there is always someone better. My brain is so often not very nice to me. 

And still, my brain is very patient, and therefore, encouraging because somewhere inside, something keeps telling me to just try again. This has been most evident over these last two years as COVID has so drastically disrupted the movie industry and therefore, my writing and even further, my motivation to even try as life and mental/emotional fatigue have overshadowed inspiration. 

Lately, I have found myself venturing out to the movies more frequently and in this past week, I have written three new pieces and a fourth is being composed as well. Now, even though there has been a new flurry of activity, I am not going to get ahead of myself and firmly announce that everything is back on track. I need to allow myself to think of this as a continuing work in progress...and really, that IS what Savage Cinema is as it is a representation of...ME. 

Thank YOU all for being there. For being positive and always sticking firm to the mission of this blogsite to keep Savage Cinema a place of positivity as the internet and social media have grown even darker over these last 12 years. Thank YOU all for just taking the time to read anything that I have written, especially as we are all inundated with all manner of this and that vying for our attention. 

Thank YOU all for just believing in me because it all helps me to believe in myself.

And now...onto the next one...

FAULTY UPGRADE: a review of "The Matrix: Resurrections"

 

"THE MATRIX: RESURRECTIONS"
Based upon characters and situations created by The Wachowskis
Screenplay Written by Lana Wachowski & David Mitchell & Aleksandar Hemon 
Directed by Lana Wachowski
** (two stars)
RATED R

Maybe I should not have taken the red pill this time...

In this current age of sequels, prequels, reboots, reimaginings and so on, I suppose it was only a matter of time before audiences were given an opportunity to return to The Matrix, and as with most of the retreads that are flowing in our direction, I was housed with a mixture of fatigue and curiosity. As envisioned by the Wachowskis, the bracing, game changing "The Matrix" (1999) and its two sequels "The Matrix: Reloaded" (2003) and "The Matrix: Revolutions" (2003), weaved a heady plot about humanity enslaved by machines within a virtual reality system while in reality being utilized as a power source and the band of freedom fighters, led by a potential messiah figure named Neo, determine to defeat the machines and reclaim our humanity. 

It was psychedelic cyperpunk merged with classic mythology, anime, philosophy, religion and spirituality, S&M fetishes, martial arts, machine gun ultraviolence, and even a love story all filtered through deliriously staged action and fight sequences plus bar raising special effects. Much like the first film's main character as portrayed by Keanu Reeves, we were all jet propelled into a wildly terrifying new cinematic universe that served as a warning about our reliance and continuous immersion into technology at the expense of our human interconnectivity. While it is easy to say that we did not necessarily need a new installment, especially after the series felt to reach a natural (if slightly open ended) conclusion, there is something to be said about how the Wachowskis' story could be revisited, especially as we witness how our societal relationship to technology has deepened profoundly in the 18 years since the third film. 

While it has its moments as well as a promising beginning third or so, Lana Wachowski's "The Matrix:  Resurrections," the fourth chapter in the series feels more like an addendum at best and an anti-climactic afterthought at worst. It is not a bad film but it is also not a particularly good one either as it contains quite a number of good ideas which never feel as thoroughly conceptualized as the previous three installments. And for a series that has always prided itself on attempting to wield a white knuckle approach to the proceedings, this new film feels more than a little sleepy by comparison with action sequences that just do not pop and a visual presentation, while glowing with color, feels more than a little artificial, making it at times difficult to buy the fantasy. That being said, at least "The Matrix: Resurrections" feels like an honest film and not a cynical cash grab. Even so, maybe I needed to just take the blue pill and I can have the original trilogy untainted by this lackluster effort.

Picking up six decades after the events of the trilogy, which found Neo (Keanu Reeves) sacrificing  himself to essentially forge a peace treaty between humans and machines, Lana Wachowski's "The Matrix: Resurrections" finds Neo as his original alter ego Thomas Anderson as the developer of a successful video game company basking in the success of a trilogy of games entitled "The Matrix," based upon Anderson's dreams or in actuality, his faint memories. Struggling with his sanity, Thomas Anderson habitually seeks the counsel of his therapist (Neil Patrick Harris) who keeps Anderson under the haze of a steady stream of blue pills, although Anderson desperately wished for answers to the source of his fragmented dreams.   

Meanwhile, and just as before, all is not what it seems as a new generation of freedom fighters from the Matrix, as led by Bugs (Jessica Henwick) and a new version of Morpheus (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), are on the hunt for the believed to be alive Neo as well as Trinity (Carrie-Anne Moss), who perished at the end of the Machine War but miraculously exists as Tiffany, the motorcycle riding married Mother of three children in San Francisco. 

Once the rebels locate Anderson and he accepts the red pill, once again opening his mind to the realities of the Matrix, its evolution and newfound dangers, including a revamped Agent Smith (Jonathan Groff), the resurrected Neo re-emerges to discern reality from illusion and potentially save Trinity as he submerges himself deep within the Matrix all over again.         

Lana Wachowski's "The Matrix: Resurrections" is earnest, affectionate, well intentioned and seemingly heartfelt as there does not feel to be anything remotely mercenary about this venture as it reaches its fourth chapter. In a way, it feels almost lighter in tone than the previous three films. More playful, less urgent and definitely, self-reflexive in a way the original trilogy was not, giving this fourth installment a new level to explore, especially regarding the nature of sequels. 

Throughout the film, we are given snatches of moments and sequences from the original trilogy as played out as flashes of Thomas Anderson's dreams/memories/flashbacks sometimes playing right alongside the new material, each side commenting upon the other. At times, the technique works well as it allows Wachowski to update us upon characters and events from the first films while circumventing lazy fan service based nostalgia by weaving everything directly intro the narrative as machine based deja vu, which is itself a clever jab at the current Hollywood based machine made culture surrounding the preponderance of recycled material at the expense of anything original. Other times, the technique fails as it does nothing else but to remind us about how much better the first films actually were, including the severe lack of having Laurence Fishburne as Morpheus this time around (which is not a slight upon Yahya Abdul-Mateen II's efforts but honestly, he is no Fishburne). 

By now, the pop cultural narrative remains that "The Matrix" is brilliant while the two immediately subsequent films fall far short, a viewpoint I whole heartedly disagree with as all three wove a complete narrative in the three distinct phases of birth-life-death, were consistently innovative (even if exhausting by the third film) and with action sequences that remain some of the best I have ever seen--the freeway sequence in the second film for my money is in the exact same league as the truck chase in Steven Spielberg's "Raiders Of The Lost Ark" (1981) or the apocalyptic white line nightmares of George Miller's "The Road Warrior" (1981) and "Mad Max: Fury Road" (2015).  

With a bar set so highly, and three times over, no less, anything that doesn't reach a similar height is more than noticeable. The action sequences that made our mouths drop to the ground over and over again are nowhere to be found this time around. The fights all feel like retreads and they way they are all filmed feel shoddy and choppy as opposed to the narrative and visual elegance of the original films. In fact, here's something to chew upon: the downright explosive and dazzling, flat out insane fights of Keanu Reeves' own "John Wick" (2014/2017/2019) series far eclipse anything that can be seen in "The Matrix: Resurrections" and if the original pre-pandemic plans had come to pass--where the upcoming "John Wick 4" and this new "Matrix" would have been released upon the same day--Wick would eat Neo for breakfast without breaking a sweat.

Also, as visually striking as the original films were and remain, there was a gritty, film noir atmosphere which for "The Matrix: Resurrections" has been replaced with a glorious sheen where colors practically dance on the screen yet everything, including the special effects, feel air brushed within an inch of its life, making the presentation look shockingly cheap at times. Perhaps, this aesthetic was purposeful, in order to give Lana Wachowski the benefit of the doubt as well as considering the self-reflexive (yet increasingly muddled) nature of the narrative. Maybe she is offering another commentary upon the nature of sequels as they typically grow brighter but emptier as more installment arrive? I don't know. But, I do know that I felt less immersed and more aware of the overall artifice which kept me from embracing as I had done three times over in the past.

All of that being said, there were elements I enjoyed including the very warm presence of Jessica Henwick as Bugs, the audience surrogate this time around. But most importantly, the love story between Neo and Trinity as portrayed by Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss, still possesses a certain pull as the two re-ignite their considerable chemistry with ease and newfound layers of loss, tenderness and melancholy which at least, gives the film an emotional level to cling to. 

Even better is Keanu Reeves himself, who strikes some considerably stirring notes as Thomas Anderson rather than Neo. The earlier sequences in the film, with Anderson downing one blue pill after another, hands shaking in his therapist's office, or silently crying while sitting in his bathtub struck me purely and made me wonder if possibly the film was working as an allegory for surviving depression and trauma, because frankly, this character has undergone considerable trauma and then some, making the blurred lines of reality and delusion more precarious. If only Wachowski had followed this thread with a greater commitment, we would have had a greater emotional anchor to rely upon and give some gravity to a film that unfortunately grows increasingly goofy the longer it plays. 

That is the general nature of a sequel, isn't it. Something that just doesn't live up to what has come before. In fact, it is all in the film itself as just like Neo, who wants to take flight again, Lana Wachowski's "The Matrix: Resurrections" cannot get off the ground.

DEAF EARS: a review of "Don't Look Up"

 

"DON'T LOOK UP"
Story by Adam McKay & David Sirota
Screenplay Written and Directed by Adam McKay
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED R

"The dark is far as eyes can see
It's raining ashes
We've reached the end of history
Here come the ashes

It's raining ashes
Falling on deaf ears..."
-"Deaf Ears"
music and lyrics by Todd Rundgren, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Does the sting of satire lose its venom when simultaneously living through the reality the art is satirizing? Is there a point when the satire is just too close to mirror and therefore mine for humor?

Please just take a moment and think about where we are as a society at this point in the 21st century, regarding race relations and equity, regarding economic disparity, regarding voting rights and our rapidly disappearing democracy, rampant sexism and the rapidly disappearing right for any Woman to choose for herself what she would or would not do regarding her own body, and for that matter, the death of nuance and perspective in the process of critical thinking in favor of the exclusivity of binary so-called choices and the polarization of truth, facts and reality itself. 

Now, let's add into that cauldron the gun violence epidemic, climate change and our on-going global pandemic which has already taken the lives of over 800,000 Americans and still, there are those who refuse to think beyond themselves and wear a mask, get a vaccine, or just acknowledge (again) the dire reality in which we are all co-existing in favor of some individualized frontier fantasy, all of the while howling about "FREEDOM!!"  

The feelings that I have regarding this societal spiritual decay, this lack of understanding towards the clear interconnectivity of all living things on this ONE planet of ours range from despair to fury, especially when so much of what I see is apathy. 

And so, here we are with "Don't Look Up," Writer/Director Adam McKay's satire of global extinction being regarded with indifference and my reaction was slightly peculiar. It is a strong film. McKay has delivered an impassioned plea, one that is resoundingly depressing to experience. I rarely laughed or even found much humor in material to which I can easily point to the very real thing on every single news broadcast and channel in the real world. Still, I cannot understate how effective of a film it actually is and perhaps it is the finest film of his more socio-political driven material, worlds away from the loony yet messy "Anchorman: The Legend Of Run Burgundy" (2004), "Talladega Night: The Ballad Of Rocky Bobby" (2006), "Step Brothers" (2008) and "The Other Guys" (2010). Adam McKay's "Don't Look Up" certainly has much to say or for that matter, even scream about. But when we are screaming along with it, and to each other, is there still purpose?

"Don't Look Up" stars Jennifer Lawrence as Kate Dibiasky, a Michigan State University grad student in Astronomy, who discovers a previously unidentified object approaching Earth. She and her Professor, Dr. Randall Mindy (Leonardo DiCaprio) soon determine the object is a comet ("Larger than the size of the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs!!" Kate exclaims at one point), and is on a direct collision course with Earth, causing a complete extinction event in six months. 

After joining forces with Planetary Defense Coordination Office head Dr. Teddy Oglethorpe (Rob Morgan), the three Scientists soon attain the ear of President Janie Orlean (Meryl Streep) and her son, Chief of Staff Jason Orlean (Jonah Hill), who each in reaction to the cataclysmic news is a shrug filled response that the United States government will not spring into action to save humanity (since what good will it do for the President with the upcoming midterm elections since she's got it in the bag anyway?) but will "sit tight and assess."

Dismayed by the apathy but undaunted with the need to reveal the truth to the world, Dr. Oglethorpe suggests that they each leak their findings to news outlets. Dr. Mindy and Kate undertake a media tour, most notably leading them to the vapid morning show juggernaut "The Daily Rip," hosted by the inane Brie Evantee (Cate Blanchett) and Jack Bremmer (Tyler Perry), a program whose leading story, such as it is, is not the oncoming comet but the break up of pop star Riley Bina (Ariana Grande) and her cheating boyfriend DJ Chello (Scott Mescudi). While on the program, the severity of the news being met with one innocuous joke after another, Kate unleashes her fury and terror and immediately becomes a target for mockery on live television and internet memes...while the anxiety ridden yet comparatively more composed Dr. Mindy becomes a media darling...and the object of Brie Evantee's lusty desires, leading to an affair.

As a surprise sex scandal threatens to upend President Orlean's midterm hopes, the White House agenda just as suddenly shifts its focus to destroying the comet, of course as a means of distraction, via a Michael Bay a la "Armageddon" (1998) styled plan of sending a racist mercenary (i.e. "war hero") into space to blow up the comet before it hits Earth. But...what if...we abandon that mission and let that comet hit the Earth, so the United  States could mine the comet's remains for rare minerals, thus promising more riches for the richest and giving those at the bottom of the economic ladder hope for those "comet paying jobs"?   

And as Dr. Mindy and Kate continue to announce their findings and warnings, the world, by comparison is caught in the net of whims as dictated by political top donors, including Peter Isherwell (Mark Rylance), a billionaire tech guru and the politicized denial that the comet even exists. 

But...the comet is coming, time is running out, and...meh.

So often when I think of satire, I suppose that I envision something, that even if the material is in close proximity to the object it is satirizing, there is an aspect that feels askew, that "through the looking glass approach" that makes the proceedings feel like a funhouse mirror of absurdity while the humor bares its teeth. Certainly, Stanley Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb" (1964) remains the dark hearted pinnacle yet more recent examples, including Oliver Stone's "Natural Born Killers" (1994), Writer/Producer/Actor John Cusack and Director Joshua Seftel's "War, Inc" (2008), Spike Lee's "Chi-Raq" (2015) and especially Mike Judge's "Idiocracy" (2006) are all rapacious with the targets of their ire while each feeling not quite of this Earth. 

By contrast, Adam McKay's "Don't Look Up" feels more like a documentary and in doing so, is a deeply frustrating experience. Now, this is not the fault of McKay or a commentary of how successful he is or isn't regarding his satirical brand. This is an extremely well made film, filled with intent, purpose, creativity and passion. I am, however, describing how the film made me feel ultimately, and I honestly did not find much of it to being terribly "funny." 

Yes, this is absurdist comedy but this film felt more like nightmare comedy, where no one is subscribing to the doom laden reality that you are seeing and there is nothing you can do about it. And we are seeing this film as we are all existing through a very real and exceedingly unfunny nightmare. If the situation in the film played out in reality, we know that what transpires would essentially occur in real life...and we know this because it is happening as we speak, regarding climate change, regarding impending fascism, regarding the pandemic.  

Both Leonardo DiCaprio and crucially Jennifer Lawrence (the sexism her character endures from end to end of this film is rightfully infuriating) are each terrific in their roles, showcasing their trademark sense of commitment and intensity, for they are indeed any of us looking at the world in which we live in reality and are standing in horror every day at the indifference and the inhumanity we are inflicting upon ourselves.

In defense of the film, much of the criticism launched against it has been exceedingly harsh. Some have proclaimed it heavy handed but honestly, when we have lived through a year of COVID-19 under the leadership of a President who lied, denied and even instructed the public to literally drink bleach, while a complacent political party and news outlets signed on, this is not a time for subtlety. When we live in a time when radicalized domestic terrorists try to storm our nation's Capitol to overturn a legal and fair Presidential election and political figures attempt to reframe that day as being nothing more then akin to tourists having a picnic, this is not a time for subtlety. When Science, logic, reason, reality and empirical facts are waved away in favor of "alternative facts," this is not a time for subtlety. 

Adam McKay's anger is righteous, raw and real and while "Don't Look Up" makes it very easy for us to connect the dots between the fictional characters and their real world counterparts, there is an aspect where I wondered just who is this film for? 

Another criticism I  have seen lobbied against this film is that is a smug experience, where Adam McKay has enlisted his famous friends for a diatribe designed to exclaim how smart he is and how  dumb everyone else is. Well...I can see how some might come to that conclusion yet again, I do feel that "Don't Look Up" is a more earnestly delivered film from McKay than "The Big Short" (2015), which I felt to be overrated and a bit too in love with its own cleverness. 

Even so, with our culture as polarized as it is, where people are unwilling to listen to anything outside of their own viewpoints, why would anyone who feels that Hollywood is filled with elitists who are out of touch with reality even see this film at all? Perhaps these are the very people who would benefit this experience most, for maybe a pseudo-fictional narrative would be a great conduit to explore our real world. As it stands, the people who would choose to see it are most likely those who already agree with McKay and so, are we all just spitting into the wind?

Still, Adam McKay's "Don't Look Up" possesses a power and hold that does eat at you and it feels as if it was conceived to shake us out of our collective doldrums. But, do we even wish to wake up?