In 2019, Which Films Felt Spiritually Connected?
There's no doubt that every film has its own singular and unique vision that is expressed by its filmmaker. However, it can be found that when films are released throughout the year, certain ideas can be seen between films that directors are all subconscious of circling. And when different films circle the same idea, those ideas become even more profound; It can reveal a universal truth that gets amplified.
In looking back on the films that I watched in 2019, I found several films that felt spiritually connected.
Modern Masters Contemplate the End of Their Eras in The Irishman & Once Upon a Time in... Hollywood
Despite what you may have heard, The Irishman isn't just another gangster movie. While Martin Scorsese's decades-spanning crime epic does follow the life of a hitman, the film is not another celebration of criminals like Goodfellas is. In The Irishman, Scorsese, now all of 77 years old, seems to be very much consciously reflecting on the end of his filmmaking career. To that end, he chooses to depict the story of Frank Sheeran (Robert DeNiro) through Sheeran recounting his life's end in an assisted living facility. Amidst the bloodshed and kills he's seen and done over his life, perhaps the heaviest blow that Scorsese deals to the audience is when Sheeran asks a nurse, maybe two generations his senior, if she knows who Jimmy Hoffa is – the same Hoffa (Al Pacino) that we see Sheeran dedicate his life to over three and a half hours in the film. After she admits to not knowing who the infamous union leader was, it feels as if Scorsese himself is confronting a larger existential question: if after a lifetime of achievements, if they go unrecognized – and especially by the ones you love, did it mean anything?
So too does Quentin Tarantino reflect on a similar sense of displacement in a shifting culture, as Once Upon a Time in… Hollywood shows former leading man Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) struggling to admit that his best days are behind him and that he's eclipsed from relevancy. It's comical when he decries all of the "Goddamn hippies!" at every moment they pop up, revealing his anxiety to an uncertain future. Tarantino's and Scorsese's films both act as meta-tributes to the things they're known for doing best (Scorsese making a "gangster" film, Tarantino making a showy Hollywood romp). However, both directors imbue a piece of tragedy in their leading men's futile attempts to preserve a time that they know, or knew. It's heartbreaking that both Irishman and Hollywood end with each of their leading men – after having endured a lifetime of battles and achievements, and who should feel triumphant for it – being very much alone. After a lifetime of great accomplishments between Scorsese and Tarantino, these films feel as if even masters can feel a sense of emptiness and longing.
Rebirth At The End of Relationships, in Marriage Story & The Souvenir
Two of my favorite films of last year were both beautifully made films about tumultuous relationships, and how the people in those relationships struggle to recover after bitter ends. In Marriage Story, writer-director Noah Baumbach shows that although two people can start out being so right for each other, sometimes they will grow apart. This is seen through the dissolving of marriage between theater director Charlie (Adam Driver) and his muse Nicole (Scarlett Johansson). While Marriage Story starts with Nicole's realization that she wants something different in her life, the film ends with Charlie (Driver) having to re-discover himself, and re-invent after heartbreak.
In another deeply personal film (also circling auto-biography), British director Joanna Hogg's The Souvenir tells the story of a demure young woman, Julie (Honor Swinton Byrne), whose relationship with Anthony (Tom Burke) is entirely co-dependent, even though his lifestyle is incredibly destructive and dangerous. While The Souvenir wasn't as big of a film as Marriage Story, it is one of the most rewarding movie-going experiences I had last year for its emotional vulnerability. While both films shows the emotional bottom that occurs when a life shatters, each film shows how we can pick ourselves back up, and sometimes that's exactly what we need to be re-born.
The Lighthouse & Joker Show There's Art in the Madness
Blame it on the relentless stream of sensational news headlines or the current state of American politics, but 2019 felt like another strange and unsettling wobble in our nation's struggle to maintain shared national sanity. With the popularization of "fake news," it feels like people are growing more comfortable with living in their self-prescribed truths, which leaves the very concept of objectivity as something that no longer needs to be agreed on. Yes, there is a massive danger to that. Two films embodied this slip into madness perfectly: writer-director Robert Eggers, who directed 2015's The Witch, returned with The Lighthouse, a stormy black and white tale of two lighthouse workers who struggle to stay sane while isolated together. The film features two incredible performances, including Willem Dafoe as a craggy old veteran, but it's Robert Pattinson through which we see the actual unraveling of sanity. He begins the film convinced of his rightness, but after demented seagulls and dangerous mermaids appear, he loses his grasp on what's real and what's not.
And of course, what film embodied losing grip on reality better than Joaquin Phoenix, who took on the title role of playing a failed standup turned murderous terrorist in Joker. While Joker was met with concern for prophetizing a psyche of white male frustration (a very real issue in today's culture), all of these deranged performances – including Pattinson and Dafoe – should be applauded. They created such resonant characters that relieved some tension to a fractured male psyche, and yet were still inspiring in their artistry.
Social Commentary Disguised in Genre, in Parasite & Us
Sometimes, the more uncomfortably real a problem or issue is, the more that idea needs to be disguised through something more allegorical so that it can be better understood. It was so refreshing and revitalizing to see each of these next two films in theaters, as both audiences were electrified while watching. I saw Bong Joon Ho's Parasite after it had been around for a little while, and yet I didn't know anything about it going in (which is exactly how you should see it). Parasite starts as a whip-smart comedy about a low-income family that dupes a more affluent family into hiring each of them in their home, then becomes a head-spinning twisty horror that reveals another level to this concept. Ultimately, it becomes a politically charged piece (like all of Bong Joon Ho's films) that highlights the divide in the world through economic inequality.
Jordan Peele's follow up to Get Out, Us, uses a classic horror set up to show a film about a family and their doppelgängers who seek revenge in the world by taking their place all across America. Peele has proven that he's as aware of the meaning of every shot, and every piece of what goes into a film (much like this video essay shows) so that horror can be effective in informing people of real-world issues.
'A Hidden Life' Dares to Celebrate, Examine the Costs of One's Ethics
After exploring the experimental edges of narratively formless cinema with films like Song to Song and Knight of Cups, director Terrence Malick returns with his newest film: a meditation on morality that, both intimate and expansive, achieves wondrous results.
In this corporately competitive and politically combative era of 2019, it feels as if having personal ethics – compared to those untethered by having any self-imposed restrictions – is something of a weakness. If it's beliefs that hold you back from following wherever the ethically-compromised yardstick has been moved to, and if unethical practices then persist as a result, one must wonder: at what cost are those pesky little ethics truly worth?
It's a tragically philosophical question that has plagued countless men over time, and as a result, caused them to fall nameless to history over their actions (and inactions). It's also a meditation that director Terrence Malick beautifully ponders, celebrates, and examines in his wondrously magnificent new film, A Hidden Life, in theaters this Friday.
Those familiar with Malick will know what his films have in store: melancholic humans searching for life's answers in stories that range in vastness and ambition. At 2 hours and 53 minutes long, A Hidden Life ranks among his more ambitious works, and I'm happy to say that it's every bit as epic in its narrative and artistic scope.
What makes this meditation so transfixing is its setting and place in time: based on a true story of a German conscientious objector in WWII, A Hidden Life centers around the life of Franz Jägerstätter (August Diehl), a German villager and husband to Franziska (Valerie Pachner). It's a life that we see is full of infinite, simple beauties; they cut wheat in the most amazing golden fields, spin around vibrant green grass, and stare longingly into each other's eyes under the rich blue skies. Children soon form to show a happy family. But when the creeping subsiding of war slowly moves in like waves reaching higher tides, Franz is forced to assert an ethical stance that soon enough tears him apart from his family.
With a camera that gracefully glides through scenes, seeking and capturing spontaneous moments of Diehl and Pachner's quiet emoting and performing, Malick's distinguishable cinematography is on welcome display here. And assembled with its jump-cut editing, A Hidden Life feels like a film that's simultaneously unfurling in real-time as well as if remembered like a trace-memory, altogether an impressionistic tapestry of real feeling that cannot be imitated. Mixing this modernized look with its period-accurate era captures a timeless quality to the nature of ethics that gives it new life and resonance.
While Malick's latest experimental adventures (Song to Song, Knight of Cups) didn't tap into the cultural conversation for their understandably formless structures, A Hidden Life is bolstered by having a narrative center that organically moves the film forward, which is a welcomed element. Putting forward a meditation on such a universally important question as morality and inspiring people to ponder it is an ambitious, if not just plain admirable, task. The artistic achievement that is A Hidden Life is one that – like the devastatingly moving quote by George Eliot that the film ends with – should be seen and celebrated.
A HIDDEN LIFE (2019)
Starring August Diehl, Valerie Pachner, Matthias Schoenaerts
Directed by Terrence Malick
Written by Terrence Malick
Distributed by Fox Searchlight. 174 minutes.
Opening this Friday at ArcLight Hollywood and The Landmark.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJXmdY4lVR0
'Greener Grass' is Sitcom Humor Laced With Absurdity
For those who get their appetites filled by comedies of the ironic and insane variety, Greener Grass - the brainchild of Upright Citizen's Brigade comics Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe - is sure to satisfy. Greener Grass first premiered at this year's Sundance Film Festival and was picked up by IFC Midnight (the perfect distributor to serve up this comedy that's proudly self-spiked with gleefully bizarro corkscrews).
As its pastel blasted look would indicate, Greener Grass is like an 80s sitcom, if that sitcom was laced with trace amounts of psychedelics (think "Desperate Housewives" meets the demented stylings of "Tim and Eric"). With a never-ending stream of ever-increasing and more-ridiculous-than-the-last riffs, the comedy duo of DeBoer and Luebbe have found a rich space to both explore and explode. They tackle the hokey conventions and mannequin-normalcy of white, affluent middle-class suburbia.
Things kick off when Jill (DeBoer) gives up her baby to her best friend Lisa (Luebbe) in front of her un-athletic son at his youth soccer game. It sets the stage for what is possible in this world, a place where, at every moment, another social norm explodes. The most obvious example is that everyone wears braces, an injected awkwardness that their characters have no awareness. Things like this aren't a big deal for the women or their husbands, Dennis (Neil Casey) and Nick (Beck Bennett). The rest of Greener Grass has other absurd discoveries that the characters continue to find unsurprising. The murder of a yoga teacher, Nick's sudden taking to pool water, and getting pregnant with a soccer ball are just a few of the things the film has in store.
Greener Grass will likely be best enjoyed by those who seek comedy on the fringe and inflated past the limits of absurdity. A few of Greener Grass's performers are recognizable by self-professed comedy nerds: Bennett on SNL among them, as well as Janicza Bravo (who directed her own wild comedy, Lemon, starring husband Brett Gelman). Greener Grass and the comedic stylings of DeBoer and Luebbe create an amazing imagination space where – at just 95 minutes long – anything goes. And that's the most liberating part: you truly never know where it's going to go next. – Ryan Rojas
GREENER GRASS (2019)
Starring: Jocelyn DeBoer, Dawn Luebbe, Beck Bennett
Directed by: Jocelyn DeBoer, Dawn Luebbe
Written by: Jocelyn DeBoer, Dawn Luebbe
Distributor: IFC Films
Running time: 95 minutes
Playing: Opening 10/18 at the Nuart Theatre and On Demand
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyOvQfgQhKQ
'The Lighthouse': Take This Drunken Plunge Into Madness
Among the most visionary and daring films of 2019, director Robert Eggers' sensationally absurd sailor's tale, The Lighthouse, should be recognized as one of the great achievements. Eggers – who's known by arthouse fans for writing and directing 2015's Puritan-possession film The Witch – returns with another nightmarishly hypnotic unraveling into madness.
Photographed in 4:3 black and white film by The Witch cinematographer Jarin Blaschke, The Lighthouse tells the story of two lighthouse keepers stationed on a remote and mysterious island in 1890s New England. Newly hired hand Winslow (Robert Pattinson) is eager to do an honest pay's work, at first uninterested in any small talk with his boss, Thomas (Willem Dafoe). But as the craggy old Thomas rants on (the period piece dialects that Pattinson, and especially Dafoe show is humorous and astonishing), hints of oddness creep in. Winslow soon finds that he's questioning Thomas's sanity altogether. But as the stormy season grows closer and stronger, and as stranger occurrences set in (including seagulls and tall tales of mermaids), Winslow tries to keep everything – including a checkered past – together.
The teaming of Eggers storytelling along with the dedication from Pattinson and Dafoe – giving the most fascinating and utterly incredible on-screen performances this year – The Lighthouse is some of the most demented fun you'll have in a theater this year.
THE LIGHTHOUSE (2019)
Starring: Willem Dafoe, Robert Pattinson
Directed by: Robert Eggers
Written by: Robert Eggers, Max Eggers
Distributor: A24
Running time: 109 minutes
Playing: Opening 10/18 at ArcLight Hollywood and The Landmark
'Lucy in the Sky' Muddles a Transcendent Moment
LUCY IN THE SKY (2019)
Starring Natalie Portman, Jon Hamm, Zazie Beetz
Directed by Noah Hawley
Written by Noah Hawley, Elliott DiGuiseppi, Brian C. Brown
Distributed by Fox Searchlight. 124 minutes. Opening 10/4 at Arclight Cinemas and The Landmark.
Lucy in the Sky tells the story of an astronaut, Lucy Cola (Natalie Portman) who, after viewing planet Earth from up above, has a moment of transcendence in which her world is changed (you see it in her captivated, hypnotized stare). The film then explores the way that a person's life may change when they've had such a moment, only to be brought back and expected to go about their previous existence. It's a valid thought experiment to ponder: would you feel empowered to embark on anything knowing you were in control, or would you unravel?
In this case, it's the latter. The mental unraveling of Lucy is an interesting angle for this or any film to have, nihilism taking over. But the film doesn't quite communicate this in the cleanest way. Natalie Portman as Lucy Cola, a fiery, whip-smart Texan astronaut could have had more interesting or entertaining ways of living her life again, but instead she acts on confusingly base impulses like beginning an affair with a colleague (Jon Hamm), and ending up driving across state lines in a koo koo disguise to warn the woman he's now seeing (Zazie Beetz) of his untrustworthy ways. It's a storyline that, while apparently based on real events (the film is based on the true story), sacrifices an opportunity to sift through more poignant philosophical thoughts, and instead makes for an odd reading of feminism.
The overall visual language of Lucy in the Sky is also confusing – I'm curious why director Noah Hawley changed aspect ratio so much, as it makes for a distracting experience. But there's still an interesting thought that, once you acknowledge your unfathomably small place in the universe, what will you do next?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQP-L2pJzmk&t=3s
Horsing Around in the Quirky Comedy 'The Death of Dick Long'
THE DEATH OF DICK LONG (2019)
Starring Michael Abbott Jr., Virginia Newcomb, Andre Hyland
Directed by Daniel Scheinert
Written by Billy Chew
Distributed by A24. 100 minutes. Opening 9/27 at Arclight Hollywood and Alamo Drafthouse Cinema - Downtown LA.
The Death of Dick Long may have a fairly sophomoric joke right in its title. And yes, it might be set in a rural small-town Alabama community. And, well, there might be a solid amount of "butt rock" that soundtracks the entirety of the movie (yes, '90s bands including Nickelback are prominently featured). But much like how director Daniel Scheinert used the easily laughable power of a farting corpse to win over audiences in Swiss Army Man (the film he co-directed with Daniel Kwan as part of the creative team DANIELS, but here making his solo directorial debut), it's all there to disarm the audience into thinking that there isn't a higher, more incredibly skilled and smarter operating power controlling the whole charade; there certainly is.
It's not a spoiler for the audience to know that Dick Long (Daniel Scheinert), who ends band practice with redneck pals Zeke (Michael Abbott Jr.) and Earl (Andre Hyland) by sparking a joint before fatefully asking: "Y'all motherfuckers wanna get weird?," dies; it's right there in the title. But after a booze-fueled night in which Dick ends up mysteriously dead, his frightened friends are left to cover it up as best as their nincompoop selves can. All the while, Zeke's family – his wife Lydia (Virginia Newcomb) and daughter (Poppy Cunningham) – and local law enforcement (Janelle Cochrane and Sarah Baker) come ever closer to putting together the strange and coincidental pieces of this deadly disappearance.
This is essentially the main gag of the film: seeing Zeke and the never-not-vaping Earl, attempt to stay one step ahead of everyone before the whole thing is exposed. But these guys are not the sharpest tools in the shed, leading to comedic moments such as asking each other how the bloody backseat of a car was cleaned out in Pulp Fiction. The mix of jokes and real tension is expertly compiled, all leading up to the climactic reveal of what happened to Dick that fateful night (without over-hyping it and certainly without spoiling it, it's one of the most unbelievably amazing twists of any recent comedy). More surprising than this screwy reveal is the emotional impact that it brings, and this is when you realize the power of screenwriter Billy Chew's script, which successfully weaves together a hilarious premise, sharp story, and emotional honesty to engage the audience on all levels.
The fact that all of these differing and strange elements come together is ultimately attributed to the quirky mind of Daniel Scheinert, whose brand of silly-meets-sincere joke-making has come to be known (or should definitely come to be known) as a new and deserving style in comedy. While the whole event is a sort of screwball affair, Scheinert doesn't rely on the same shallow riff of redneck clichés, but lends his own insight as an Alabama native to celebrate Southern culture while still having fun with it (to me, Logan Lucky, did the same). Once the climactic reveal happens, it's a hilariously side-splitting moment, but you would be pressed to not feel an equal wave of somber sympathy at the same time. The Death of Dick Long is a wealth of wit, smarts, and unexpected heart. It's already the funniest film of this year and I can't wait to see it again.
This review originally ran on February 6, 2019, during the Sundance Film Festival.
#Hotgirlsummer: Thoughts on Paul Thomas Anderson's latest music video, 'Summer Girl'
There's a trend that's rippling through social media (and IRL) that I'm only vaguely aware of since writing this post: "hot girl summer." My immediate friend group isn't able to explain this phenomenon to me easily, and I've chosen to forego an online search, so I'm going to go ahead and extract the following: things with expiration dates give people a sense of peace. In this case, "hot girl summer" sounds like a fad in which people are allowed to act out or play up a more idealized version of ourselves. We're given the permission to "feel thyself," but we know it's only for this summer season. We'll make up for our sins in the autumn.
A rock band that doesn't indulge in commercially-supported movements of any kind, indie rockers and sisters-trio, HAIM, have coincidentally released a new single during this "hot girl summer," called "Summer Girl." Lead singer Danielle Haim stated in an Instagram post that lyrically, "Summer Girl" started as something she would say to her (then) cancer-stricken boyfriend to attempt to soothe him ("Let me be your summer girl"). Musically, it started as a loop in Garage Band, not-unknowingly echoing Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side."
And now, we have a music video to accompany the single directed by recent frequent collaborator Paul Thomas Anderson. He captures the girls strutting down the sunny streets of LA (including trips through Canter's Deli and the New Beverly Cinema). As the sisters walk shoulder-to-shoulder, they strip away infinite layers of tops – thrift store sweaters only reveal more thrift store t-shirts underneath – a never-ending shedding of skin. It's important to note that they're also outpacing a meandering saxophone-tooting dude, who they ask in the song to "Walk beside me, not behind me." At the end of the video, they finally get down to the last article of clothing, strutting even more assertively than at any other point. This moment must be the hot girl summer I've heard of.
So, ok. HAIM asked the mopey saxophonist to walk beside them, to join these hot girls of summer. I'll attempt to do the same. I click on an article titled Hot Girl Summer, Explained. One line from the article explains the movement is "Just as much about posting hot photos as it is living your life with confidence." So, ok; confidence. That sounds positively empowering, and even more asexual then I previously assumed. So, did I initially give an unfair reading of what I thought "hot girl summer" was? Was I also following from behind, tooting a sad saxophone without fully understanding this of-the-moment, women-borne movement, instead of walking beside them? Buddha said that, just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again. It's time for all of us – every one of us, a hot girl of the summer – to strip off the layers that hold us back, and to do so every season, without expiration, infinitely.
The Bright Light of Anton Yelchin Remembered in 'Love, Antosha'
Love, Antosha had its world premiere at the Sundance film festival, where the late actor's friends and parents shared this film with a welcoming and humbled audience. The documentary, produced by Like Crazy director Drake Doremus and directed by first-time filmmaker Garret Price, proved more than a simple biography. The film is a detailed and loving look at an artist whose curiosity and compassion for art and life was so pure. Here's what you need to know about the film.
The documentary, Love, Antosha, captures the life of the intellectual, spirited, and beloved artist, Anton Yelchin. Directed by Garett Price and produced by Drake Doremus, the film captures Yelchin’s life story and acclaimed film career that ended at the age of 27 after a freak auto-accident in 2016. Using home video footage, self-shot videos, interviews with friends and Hollywood talent alike – as well as his personal diaries – we are given a comprehensive look inside the mind of an artist who was creatively unbound and yet still internally conflicted.
Antony Yelchin appeared onscreen for most of his life, in a total of 69 film and television projects (most widely known as Chekov in J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek reboot). The film celebrates the creativity that Yelchin permeated throughout his life, where stars like Kristen Stewart, Chris Pine, John Cho, and Jennifer Lawrence offer remembrances through on-camera interviews. Whether it was devouring classic films, playing music in his band (The Hammerheads), or furthering his passion for photography, Yelchin was always learning, growing, and searching. But it’s this same anxious artistic drive to pursue his passions that also reveals his restlessness in other areas of his life. The film does not shy away from showing an artist conflicted and often occupied with complexities.
Love, Antosha reveals that Anton secretly battled the auto-immune disease cystic fibrosis (which was never publicly acknowledged), and bouts of breathing and coughing issues. A curious and self-aware person, the documentary portrays one heartbreaking moment when Yelchin researches the average age of life expectancy for people with his disease. The results show less than forty years old. The question may arise as to whether or not, on some intuitive level, the self-aware Anton knew that his life would be short-lived? And if this drove him to subconsciously consume as much art and experiences as he could in his young life.
Beyond his creative and artistic drives, one of the most genuine parts of the documentary is the relationship between his parents, Viktor and Irina Yelchin. Former Russian figure skaters fleeing Jewish persecution in Ukraine, the Yelchins immigrated to the US where they raised their only child, Anton aka Antosha. Whether it was hugging, dancing, or showering her with his affection, Love, Antosha demonstrates his purity of heart by the many handwritten notes that he gave her, all signed “Love, Antosha.”
Love, Antosha is a beautiful dedication of a great artist and missed human being who inspired so many. There’s no shortage of loving things that people have to say about him, remembering how much of an old soul and wise beyond his years he was. But the film also succeeds by not shying away from the other truths of his life. In revealing the insecurities and fears that drove him, it paints an honest picture of a young man’s journey to understand life. It’s in continuing to be curious and compassionate that, beyond just watching his films, Anton will always live on through us all.
LOVE, ANTOSHA (2019)
Starring Anton Yelchin
Directed by Garret Price
93 minutes. Opens this Friday at the Nuart Theatre.
This review originally ran on February 1, 2019, during the Sundance Film Festival
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzrFqZcosI0
'The Mountain' is a Psychological Summit
THE MOUNTAIN (2019)
Starring Tye Sheridan, Jeff Goldblum, Hannah Gross
Directed by Rick Alverson
Written by Rick Alverson, Dustin Guy Defa, Colm O'Leary
Distributed by Kino Lorber. 106 minutes. Opens this Friday at the Nuart Theatre.
With its grandly epic title alone, it's as if director Rick Alverson is announcing to audiences that The Mountain will be as equally challenging a feat, requiring active participation in order to keep up. And with its slowly unfolding and glacially moving pace, along with its serious, deliberate tone (mostly composed of silent internalizing), it certainly lives up to what could be that intention. While this summation could sound like a detractor, I don't think it's unfair, nor do I think it should even come across as a critique. Those who saw Alverson's previous film, 2015's Entertainment, should already be aware of the sort of perverse performative pleasure one might get in withholding and restricting the familiarity and easy accessibility that audiences are so expectant of with traditional narrative storytelling. The Mountain branches out from Entertainment's same sort of post-modern sensibility, but into a more dramatic and even more self-assured world, making for a larger and appreciated creative leap which mostly all holds together.
Credit the cast of The Mountain – working from a script co-written by Alverson, Dustin Guy, and Colm O'Leary – who commit to Alverson's avant-garde approach with this project. In this ambiguously '50s-set mid-west expanse, Andy (Tye Sheridan) works for his father, Frederick (Udo Kier), at the local skating rink. Andy longs to visit his mother, but it's his father who denies his son's desire as she is under psychiatric care at a state hospital. It's the offer of employment that Andy receives from Dr. Wallace Fiennes (Jeff Goldblum), Andy's mother's former physician, that gets him to join on a tour of hospitals, photographing the lobotomies that Dr. Wallace is to perform. What comprises The Mountain, along with momentary detours into abstract surrealism, is a series of pit stops through sterile hospital hallways and operating rooms, all populated with the vacantly staring faces of mental patients that gets Andy to question his own mental state, which is where the film explores the line between the accepted state of sanity and the insane.
It's these two states that come to life through the characters of Andy and Wally, both counter-balances who embody the opposing natures of man: Andy being stoic and observant countered with Wally's expressive and performative nature. Sheridan (who joins Alverson once again after a role in Entertainment) is tasked with holding the abstractly air-tight tone of the film together, and at only 22 years old, shows that he has the commanding presence to do so. Sheridan's withheld performance counters the eccentric yet poised performance of Jeff Goldblum's debonaire doctor, which is a continual point of entertainment in the film. There's a small wealth of other actors that fill out the rest of this world, including Hannah Gross (Mindhunter) as a transfixing young lobotomy patient who catches Andy's eye. And no review would be complete without the mention of Denis Lavant as Jack, Hannah's father and expressive philosophizer who, when his character is revealed in the film's third act, maniacally contorts and drools his way into embodying the film's very question of lunacy or not.
The Mountain is a challenging film – nearly Lynchian in its ambiguity at times – which will likely deter a large majority of viewers. But it's undeniable that Rick Alverson is realizing a vision of complex questions and ideas. If nothing else, audiences should be able to acknowledge the production elements that make this film so visually and sonically distinct: the cinematography (by Lorenzo Hagerman) feels like an old faded Polaroid photo come to life at any moment, and the score (by Robert Donne) is a sneakily arresting arrangement of musical cues and sounds that conjure the film's ranging emotional unrest. To the photography's end, notice how formally composed nearly every element in the film is, begging to be pointed out by the viewer as being a total construction and fabrication. Perhaps the film's entire philosophy is summed up when Andy asks Jack about a painting of a mountain hung up on Jack's home wall: Jack snarls and seethes back that it is not a mountain – that it is just a picture. Whether or not the film is aware that it directly acknowledges René Magritte's famous painting "The Treachery of Images" (in which the picture of a pipe is accompanied with the words: This is Not a Pipe), the film shows its hand at being just as disingenuous a production, imploding the entire question of the surrealist dilemma on display. It's sane people play-pretending as the doctor and the psychotic. Yes, that's Jeff Goldblum. It's all both real and fake, sane and insane and all at the same time. It's both a mountain and it's just a picture, whichever way you view it.
'The Mountain' made its world premiere at the Venice Film Festival, showed at this year's Sundance Film Festival, and was included in the Red Bull Music Festival Los Angeles as part of the Center Channel film program, originally posted on February 11, 2019.
Rolling Stones Bassist Reflects in 'The Quiet One' Doc
THE QUIET ONE (2019)
Starring Bill Wyman, Suzanne Accosta, Tony Chapman
Directed by Oliver Murray
Written by Oliver Murray
Distributed by Sundance Selects. 109 minutes. Now playing at Laemmle Monica Film Center and available to stream on demand.
It takes a certain type of character to be a bass player in a rock band. Not being watched like the lead singer or lead guitarist, and getting overpowered by the drummer, unless you're Paul McCartney, it's an egoless job, providing subdued unifying groove to unite all instruments. They also have a chance to observe, apart from the insanity. And when you're the bassist in the largest rock band in the world, as Bill Wyman shows, it's an even more impressive journey.
The Quiet One is a documentary that follows Wyman, the long-standing bassist of the Stones from the beginning through their last tour in the nineties. The Quiet One seeks to give a modest spotlight to a humble figure, a man who wasn't Mick or Keith.
Most impressively, he was a proper archivist. Starting out in an archive – almost a library – we see bookshelves of boxes, layered with years' memories. Cameras of all kinds, instruments, posters, and buttons, all annotated in a neat fashion. The mapping that goes on might be the opposite of Keith Richards' life, who says in the film when questioned for details of their illustrious history, "You'd have to ask Bill Wyman."
The documentary is insightful for this reason: it's the story of the Stones as told by the guy who wasn't just there but witnessed everything firsthand. Wyman provides moving interviews that detail "Stones-mania," the death of first guitarist Brian Jones, and Altamont Speedway, among others. He even provides more personal stories, including failed marriages and the brutality of the rock & roll lifestyle.
The Quiet One really lures you in without seeing Wyman as he is today (until the end), and his voiceover is accompanied by photos and videos. I wish the film would have had him sit for an interview where he could recall specific questions so that we could understand what these things all meant to him, but it's largely a biography for us to glean meaning.
It's pointed out that Wyman, who learned to archive from his grandmother, might be organizing these memories in order to show who he was to himself; a retrospective of his own life's work, curated by himself.
'Yesterday' Imagines a World Where There's No Beatles
YESTERDAY (2019)
Starring Himesh Patel, Lily James, Ed Sheeran
Directed by Danny Boyle
Written by Jack Barth, Richard Curtis
Distributed by Universal Pictures. 116 minutes. Opening this Friday in theaters everywhere.
Imagine there's no ‘Beatles’... That's the concept behind Yesterday, the latest film from director Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire), which imagines waking up in a world where the Fab Four and all of their world-changing music never existed. Based on a story by Jack Barth and screenplay by Richard Curtis (Love Actually), Yesterday is a crowd-pleasing hit that mostly plays to its feel-good emotions, but will no doubt connect with Beatles fans.
Jack (newcomer Himesh Patel) is a struggling musician, playing his original songs to unimpressed crowds at empty boardwalks and coffee shops, except for his friend and manager Ellie (Lily James) who might harbor more than friendly feelings for him. Jack's ready to call it quits when a power surge strikes across the globe, landing Jack in the hospital. Presented with a guitar the following morning, Jack strums out a rendition of Paul McCartney's "Yesterday." When he finishes, his audience isn't just pleased: they're utterly speechless, asking Jack when did he write such a beautiful song. Jack, bewildered, soon finds that not only have they never heard the song before but that he's living in a world where The Beatles didn't exist.
As a film, Yesterday is crafted fully on feel-good vibes, making for an easy-watching and ultimately pleasing time (to watch the film surrounded by people laughing and enjoying the same moments is probably the best way to do it). The reveal of the twist in the first act creates many memorable moments that are the film's most special parts. And there's also a good onscreen ensemble to provide charm as well: Ed Sheeran (as himself) makes more than a cameo here, and Kate McKinnon steals the show when she arrives as Jack's sleazy agent. While Himesh as Jack is good-to-serviceable in the role, Lily James relays full star-power onscreen, providing all of the heart that the film has to offer.
Having said that, Yesterday has a large hurdle it needs to clear, and one that I'm not sure it committed to taking on fully: how do you re-present arguably the best pop songs ever written an audience in a way that will showcase how brilliant they are as well as the songwriting on display? The angle that Yesterday seems to take is that Jack "writes" these more than well-structured songs under time crunches – in some cases, instantly. And while I was enjoying tapping my feet to songs like "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and "Back in the USSR," I wasn't blown away by any new perspective on any song here (save for the inclusion of "The Long and Winding Road," whose time-stopping performance was what the film needed even more of).
Perhaps somewhat ironically (although maybe not un-coincidentally), Yesterday doesn't chart any new territory, staying surface-level on the themes of authenticity and not doing any more inventive storytelling. There's some fun that's had with Jack trying to remember all of the lyrics to some of the more obtusely colorful songs, but what would it have been like if Jack put his own twist on any of these songs? How would The Beatles more psychedelically sounding and paradigm-shifting songs affect this modern culture, and what would the state of the world even look like if we were deprived of songs like "Let it Be" and "Hey Jude"? Perhaps that version of the movie would have more aptly been titled "Tomorrow Never Knows," and we as an audience will have to enjoy those thoughts on our own. But what we have is Yesterday and the pleasing yet familiar stylings that come with it.
'Leto' Brings Rock & Roll to Russia
LETO (2018)
Starring Teo Yoo, Irina Starshenbaum, Roman Bilyk
Directed by Kirill Serebrennikov
Written by Mikhail Idov, Lily Idova, Kirill Serebrennikov
Distributed by Gunpowder & Sky. 126 minutes. Opening this Friday at Laemmle's Ahrya Fine Arts Theatre.
If the thought of older American generations shaking their heads in disapproval at rock & roll corrupting the youth sounds restrictive, think about how the new sound and scene must have been received by countries who don't practice democracy. To these hard-clamped oppressive states, the likes of David Bowie, Talking Heads, and The Velvet Underground weren't just a bunch of distasteful degenerates– they were the very threat to their nation's politics and identity.
Although rock music may evoke images of uninspired and detached long-haired rockers, it was still the music that artists sought to create. The new, explosive energy and creativity which deviated from all prior norms is the story of rock & roll. This is the story of Leto.
Set in the late eighties, Leningrad, Leto (meaning "summer") captures the time when Western rock inspired a new sort of Russian youth, following the people who forged a new slacker identity amidst their hammer and sickle party. Leto follows shades-wearing Mayk (Roman Billy), the unofficial ambassador to this new sound and look for Russian rockers: not only does he front his own rock band and smuggle in vinyl pressings of the latest Blondie and T. Rex albums, but he's the unofficial middle-man between the rocker and the statesman, mediating with local theater owners and officials in order to get their music approved so as to be played to a (seated) audience.
Photographed in black and white, the camera of Leto floats through various locations, bringing enough dreaminess that feels both immediate and fantasy-like that it channels the visual stylings of last year's memory palace movie Roma. It's coincidental then that, like Roma, Leto is a piece that also attempts to channel the spirits of real-life people, as the film's director Kirill Serebrennikov based certain characters on people from Russian history.
For being a film about the arrival of rock and roll in Communist Russia, the film wonderfully channels the same rebellious spirit of rock, as far as not being afraid to not conform to one single idea. A Palme d'Or nominee at 2018's Cannes Film Festival, Leto is largely devoid of a plot, save for the arrival of a new guitar-strapped rocker Viktor (Teo Yoo) who Mayk takes under his wing and mentors, all while his wife Natasha (Irina Starshenbaum) looks upon the new lad with interest. But what Leto does receive in turn is freedom, re-creating a time and energy that dips into stylistic swerves whenever the inspiration strikes. The film does randomly launch into reality-detaching musical moments such as when a full staging of Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer" naturally becomes a part of a scene, similar to how any musical moment might arise in Across the Universe. And yet these are among the best moments in the movie (Leto won the Cannes Soundtrack Award).
To this end, the mash-up of genres with clashes of form and ideas fits its overall theme – that being about identity crisis. Some might find Leto's construction a bit too loose and inconsistently built. But along with its aesthetic eye, fantastically rocking music, and freedom to take chances whenever it wishes to, the film plays to its most inspired strengths to inspire future rock and rollers.
Alex Ross Perry Shares the Songs That Inspired 'Her Smell'
Director Alex Ross Perry has come to be known as a meticulous and exact filmmaker, and it might surprise fans to know just how much of an absolute music-head he is. Perry's latest film – 'Her Smell' – is a total swerve into a booze-drenched rockstar life in which Elisabeth Moss plays a drug-addled punk rocker. To promote the movie – in Los Angeles theaters today – I asked Perry's people if he would be able to put together a list of songs that inspired 'Her Smell'. As it turned out, Perry put together a curated list of ten(ish) songs that influenced the film (thanks for giving me a chance to make another compulsive list). His knowledge of 90s grunge rock deep cuts is great, so much so that I had to ask him for spelling at one point.
I spoke with the Brooklyn-based director on the phone where he walked me through the songs. Check out the playlist below before checking out 'Her Smell' in Los Angeles this weekend.
"The Shame" by The Blood Brothers
https://open.spotify.com/track/3xPrbQzXcBvN5zYC61b2vq?si=T1IQDIiDTRG-JrcoU0a7yQ
This was the place holder in the script before "Another Girl, Another Planet" became the only choice to open the movie with. I was really listening to those lyrics, "I always flirt with death," and I knew that had to be the first thing Becky says in the movie. But prior to that though, I always thought that The Blood Brothers' song "The Shame" would be the first song.
It's a song I love from a band that really meant a lot to me. The chorus is "Everything's going to be just awful when we're around," and I was like, yeah, that's Becky. That's this movie.
"Don't Cry" by Guns N' Roses
https://open.spotify.com/track/2N2yrmodOnVF10mKvItC9P?si=axbkbKQgTEWrNM0T9mrAIA
In Act Two, when Becky's in the recording studio, it starts and ends with an original song. And I described that original song to Alicia [Bognanno, of the band Bully] as like, "this just has to sound like a really rough demo of a song that will later potentially be very good." So I sent her a demo of "Don't Cry" from Use Your Illusion. That's an example of not a good sounding demo which became just an incredible song. In fact, it's so good they put it on both Use Your Illusion I and II.
"Because You're Young" and "We're Coming Back" by Cock Sparrer
https://open.spotify.com/track/2j1KMnU8ZBBWqB9B3I2RN8?si=PWu8dFfxRPG_1LhUOwUrYw
There's this moment in the studio where Becky meets The Akergirls. I wanted her to just grab a guitar and start playing a song that feels like it's somehow commenting on what's happening in the movie. That song ended up being "Because You're Young" by Cock Sparrer.
https://open.spotify.com/track/4YnYtYWBmDM8YjfMMK0cqs?si=NGqGTTQSSD-wBmSR_ieBHw
But I got to that song because originally I was thinking of the Cock Sparrer song "We're Coming Back." So I kind of swapped out one Cock Sparrer song for another. The lyrics of "We're Coming Back" go like this, "You remember out there somewhere, you've got a friend, you'll never walk alone again." I was like, this is clearly what Becky is searching for. And clearly, the message that The Akergirls are here at that moment, even though we know that this is not going to go well. But I actually thought it was a little too positive. So in exploring other Cock Sparrer songs, came up with "Because You're Young" which goes, "You never listen to anyone because you're young." That also comments on The Akergirls in a way.
"We're Coming Back" is an older song, and "Because You're Young" was actually off of a Cock Sparrer album from like, just before the events of that sequence take place. I liked the idea that it's just on Becky's mind because she's really been enjoying that record. That kind of fit in perfectly.
"The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle" by The Sex Pistols and "Journey to the End of the East Bay" by Rancid
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXc1g_LHwmc
And then for the finale, I gave Alicia [Bognanno] "The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle." In the script, it said the song is a narrative journey about being in a band with opportunities for every woman on stage to sing a couple of lines. I compared it to this song from The Sex Pistols film of the same name, which is the story of The Sex Pistols told two lines at a time by each member of the band. By that time, the band had broken up, and Johnny Rotten only sings two lines in the song, and the rest of it is sung by not just the band, but the cast of the movie.
https://open.spotify.com/track/301rOc8VF34Op3NhRfYcus?si=opEryrUVTbuoSttp_EBaDQ
I said I wanted the finale to be a narrative like "The Great Rock'n'Roll Swindle" or the Rancid song "Journey to the End of the East Bay," which is about the story of Operation Ivy and their rise and break up. I was like, these are great catchy lines where six different women can each take a line or two, but also the lyrics of the songs are incredibly narrative.
Those are some of the men. So now, falling over to the back half: (starting with) the song "Blue" by Elastica; specifically the live version that's on YouTube from Glastonbury.
"Blue" by Elastica (Live at Glastonbury)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ew7QoNGHung
Agyness Deyn (Marielle Hell) and I were sending Lizzy (Elisabeth Moss) a lot of music because Lizzy, by her own admission, had never listened to very much or any of this new stuff. Agyness is like an encyclopedia of all punk music, all female music from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. She grew up in Manchester and her taste is impeccable. I thought I was going to be the one educating people, and she educated me – not even just about the songs because I know that song and I know that album.
When Lizzy saw this Glastonbury performance after all the songs we'd sent, she was like, this is what I think the band feels like: dual female harmonies, it's not really punk, it's not really pop, it's catchy, it has the guitar chords and rhythms of punk. It's a song that you can play at a festival of 30,000 fans.
"Tell the World" by Vivian Girls
https://open.spotify.com/track/0kf7kUyMVHOD8nNThEo4kc?si=gR_uz1LQR_a6l-7jo6YL-A
This is a Vivian Girls song called "Tell the World" that I really like. Vivian Girls is a band I listened to in New York like 10 years ago when I was working at Kim's Video. My friend Ames Scott was friends with the band and he turned me on to them. We had their seven inch before they got big and Ames was like, this is it, this is the future, this is the next thing. I was so into their music, I met some of them a couple of times through him – although I'm sure they don't remember. I think the Vivian Girls are really, really incredible and kind of didn't get their due. Vivian Girls were on my mind a lot while writing this movie.
I think a lot of their music really holds up, there's something low-fi and catchy about it. But as a trio, they were something that I was thinking about for both Something She and The Akergirls. The song "Tell the World" has this perfectly fuzzy, distorted rawness to it that kind of sounded like a song from the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s.
"Fuck and Run" by Liz Phair (Live at Matador 21st Anniversary)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DFpJBEKugY
It was kind of a late in the game idea, but there's a video on YouTube of Liz Phair performing her song, "Fuck and Run" from the Matador 21st Anniversary celebration. And it's one of my favorite songs off of Exile in Guyville, period. In the live version, she's joined on stage by Ted Leo, which had nothing to do with her music or anything, but for some reason, he walks out on stage with a tambourine to join her on this song. It just feels like you can picture being at this big celebration where 15 bands are playing one or two of their most popular songs. And then everyone just kind of comes out and jams with each other.
So that song in general – and her in general – but specifically this video of her performing at this kind of big anniversary celebration was really on my mind a lot. And I look at that video pretty often.
"No Looking" by The Raincoats and "Hollywood Dream" by The Runaways
https://open.spotify.com/track/1rANkGdRoHdiZYcOG63TuW?si=7WSSXoROTuSbF0ihFrrQkA
The last two songs are The Raincoats song "No Looking," and The Runaways song "Hollywood Dream." "No Looking" is just a song that plays over the end credits of the movie. So this is the one that's kind of a cheat: that song is like a tonal finality in the way that it sounds like it's coming from both the left and right speaker and then it just comes together at the end. That is like Her Smell in a microcosm to me.
That song was very inspirational. The Raincoats are essential, a big bang of all of this female punk music, and certainly one of the earliest and most important acts that we looked at. That song really was on my mind a lot when thinking about how to end the movie.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuHIX05rVZ8
And then The Runaways' "Hollywood Dream" is the song I've always loved. I would describe the last 10 minutes of Her Smell as a Hollywood ending with a big reunion. Every character in the movie is there. Everyone gets to see feedback. You have a moment of triumph. Becky's daughter runs into her arms, a Hollywood ending. And then, this deep cut Runaways song. The only ending for a Hollywood ending is "Hollywood Dream," in my opinion. You end this movie about women in rock by throwing it back to The Runaways, it's just like the circle is closed.
It's a very obscure song, it was a B-side on a live album that might even be a bootleg, and it's always been on YouTube. And we pulled it off YouTube to edit with and then when we had to get it for the sound mix, Universal Music Group had to create it for us because there was no proper version... it's not on iTunes or Spotify or anything. It was a fun, deep cut. Even if you love The Runaways, maybe you haven't heard this. Those were the two songs that speak to what the ending is meant to feel like.
Here's the full playlist:
https://open.spotify.com/user/21rg4fgfopi9y8cdyk8w41jq0/playlist/3Jaw2EhAELiaViYxXoOP5u?si=0DkvZogtQryEaMBvJJSbUQ
Interview has been edited for clarity and length
'Dogman' Review: The Obedient and the Untameable
DOGMAN (2018)
Starring Marcello Fonte, Edoardo Pesce, Nunzia Schiano
Directed by Matteo Garrone
Screenplay by Ugo Chiti, Matteo Garone, Massimo Gaudioso
Distributed by Magnolia. 103 minutes. Not Rated.
It's right there in the title, begging for the audience to ask the question: are humans really separate from our animal ancestry? Dogman explores what it means to be a human and animal all at the same time, whether those are obedient or wild and untamed. This Italian drama, which was nominated for the Palm d'Or at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival, is a dark tale that explores the very nature of morality when a person reaches their breaking point.
Marcello (Marcello Fonte) is a meek and mousy dog groomer, whose own frail figure resembles that of a timid chihuahua. Marcello's gentle soul allows him to form connections with dogs of all kinds, as well as with the other men of stature in town, including the brutish Simoncino (Edoardo Pesce), whose violent outbursts have made the town turn on him. It's Simoncino who coaxes Marcello into unlawful events, whether it's driving him to burglaries or having him peddle snuff which Marcello does. Things ultimately lead to new heights when Simoncino involves Marcello in a planned burglary against a fellow local, to which Marcello faces his breaking point: will he stay a trained, obedient dog? Or will he go rabid?
Dogman is an altogether gripping watch, composed of darkly lit shots of a town that has a small radius for the film, figuratively resembling Marcello's bleak life there. If there's a lack of geographic locations, Dogman covers a lot of ethical, moral space for audiences to think about. Marcello's performance as the character of the same name is transfixing, his oversized and gummy smile showing his empathy and kindness, and his love for his daughter and dogs shows the purity of his soul – that is, until the stakes are at their highest and he faces more violent ambitions (he received the award for Best Actor at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival). If you're looking for a dark, gritty dose of Italian cinema that will make you re-look at humans and animals alike, Dogman is the movie for you.
Now playing at the Landmark Nuart.
'Amazing Grace' Bursts With Soul
Bursting its way onto the big screen, Amazing Grace is a concert film that will blow you away. While audiences may be familiar with Aretha Franklin's hits, few have heard the 'Queen of Soul' sing Gospel. And to not only hear her but also watch her sing Gospel is to witness the divine.
Taking place over two nights at the New Temple Missionary Baptist Church in Los Angeles, Amazing Grace is a collection of moments where you're either clapping and dancing in your chair, feeling the tears stream down your face, or trying to catch your breath. The live recorded album – backed by a full band – would go on to become the best selling Gospel album of all time.
Shot by famed film director Sydney Pollack in 1972 with the backing of Warner Brothers Music, over 20 hours of footage was captured to bring this epic anthem to life. However, for technical difficulties and monumental editing challenges- like matching Aretha's vocals to the picture (Pollack didn't use a clapboard to sync the takes)- the film was ultimately shelved. Until now.
Amazing Grace features Aretha singing alongside the Southern California Community Choir, which is, collectively, as equal a force to Aretha. Conducted by Alexander Hamilton, he is a charismatic star in his own right. And Aretha's brother, Reverend James Cleveland, who plays piano and evangelizes throughout is great.
Then there is Aretha herself. At just 29 years old, to watch her sing is so immaculate and divine. Her voice is like having heaven come down for that hour and a half. It is further proof that legends like her can inspire, touch, shake, and move humanity. Amazing Grace captures a moment in time that should inspire this and future generations for time to come.
AMAZING GRACE (2019)
Starring Aretha Frankin, Reverend James Cleveland, C.L. Franklin
Directed by Sydney Pollack
Distributed by Neon. 87 minutes. Rated G