Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Showrunners: The Art of Running a TV Show'

It has recently been said, and nearly unanimously agreed upon both publicly and critically, that we currently live in a "Golden Age of Television"; just stumble into any water-cooler conversation to overhear what "shows" you're watching, plural, to see its complete cultural takeover. In recent years, TV has gained this undeniable foothold by creating stories that have taken the very best from cinema (as mid-level dramas are all but vanishing from the cinematic language altogether) and seeing new distribution channels that put the programming into the very hands of consumers themselves. High-brow storytelling, in the form of finely-packaged acting, writing, and directing, are all brought together by way of the once-little-known job of Showrunner. The days in these stress-filled lives are captured in this new documentary from director Des Doyle- Showrunners: The Art of Running a TV Show.

What was once a little-known and unglamorous gig, albeit one requiring an incredibly balanced skill-set of left and right brain, creative and rationale, all responsible for unifying the overall years-long creative vision with the studio notes, is given its own spotlight with a fan boy's treatment. The creative person, or persons, responsible for shaping and helming the show's thorough-line creative vision and along with its entire below-the-line production staff (in good thanks to internet dissection and Comic-Con fandom), has gained recognition for the creative spearheading that whets national audiences week after week. But what this documentary does, for better or for worse, is profile different showrunners as they work through demanding schedules.

Well, it's certainly an unfiltered look behind what might seem a glamorous and fun-filled job, and unfiltered is putting it lightly.

While you won't see your Matthew Weiner's of Mad Men or Vince Gilligan's of Breaking Bad's, we are still exposed to enough culturally relevant shows here, from network, to basic, to premium cable, nearly a full behind-the-scenes production from Damon Lindelof (Lost), and the showrunners of TNT's Bones and Rizzoli and Isles, Showtime's Spartacus and House of Lies, as well as appearances from the doc's biggest names, J.J. Abrams (Lost) and Joss Whedon (Buffy the Vampire Slayer).

So, where exactly does a documentary like this fit into the larger conversation of today's television consumption and enjoyment? Well, it's certainly an unfiltered look behind what might seem a glamorous and fun-filled job, and unfiltered is putting it lightly. The footage and interviews here truly show what the large consensus is: that show running is a "grind." Manning all facets, stemming from nearly every showrunner's original starting point as a wide-eyed writer, has transformed into another arm of marketing, to steer the ship upright as media partners grow the show into something more, a social media presence that must satisfy itself to finicky audiences' whims on what shows live and what shows don't, and all in incredible real-time. If your show doesn't meet expected viewer numbers, then all of the whiteboard meetings (which is an entire percentage of a showrunner's day-to-day), the unbelievable amount of hard work and effort given, as well as the friendships fostered, can be ended at once, which is seen even here. Showrunners: The Art of Running a TV Show exposes more than merely the art of running a show; it reveals the more important quotient of the job- the heart of running a TV show.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYWRgqRcSO4

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Horns'

Daniel Radcliffe has certainly shown that he at least has the strive to want to show himself as an actor's actor. Post-The Boy Who Lived film franchise, he's since attached himself to no shortage of consistently varied and unexpected roles and projects, including a serviceable 2011 run on Broadway in "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" (and before that, dropping his Wizarding robes in the exposing 2008 stage play "Equus"), playing the homosexual Beat poet Allen Ginsberg in 2013's Kill Your Darlings, and now, a broody small-town deadbeat who is believed to have killed his ex-girlfriend. Oh yeah- and he weirdly grows horns through his head (or maybe it's not weird? It's to the movie's discredit that such a distinction can't be made) in the aptly titled, Horns.

Here, Radcliffe's character isn't so much as outright weird (until he transforms fully into an impressively CGI'd Sabbatic goat in the climactic third act),as is the whole circus show around him, which would have been a whole lot more fun if the film didn't suffer from such an identity crisis, wishing itself to be half black-comedy and half weepy romance-flick. Radcliffe plays Ig Parrish, whose very first steps out of his front door is met with hate-spewing townspeople and frenzied news media, all of whom out for his blood, believing him to be responsible for the death of their beloved small town beauty, the ever-lovely Merrin (Juno Temple), who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend and assumed soul mate. After a full day of frustrations in shouting back his innocence and personal heartbreak in the matter (of which Radcliffe once again tries to awkwardly plow ahead with an unconvincing American accent,) he decides to lose himself with his drink and a one-night stand with the local punk rock chick bartender. As he wakes up the next morning, however, he finds much to his surprise, the somewhat sprawling of bumps nearly protruding through the frontal lobes of his skull. What would be enough to kick-start a horror movie right then and there is instead flipped for comedy, as his hookup immediately (and weirdly) begins to spill her guts - how she wants to eat "all" of the donuts on the coffee table, and very oddly, begins to shove them one by one, all in her mouth, much to Ig's confusion.

So the stage is set for what appears to be the game of the movie: Ig walks around through the town, and, except for everyone freaking out that the Devil incarnate is now literally amongst them, the entire general public not only reveals their complete indifference to the horns, as they grow bigger and more bestial by the hour, but are invoked to act on their own deepest and darkest of self-serving impulses in highly theatrical and politically incorrect fashion. Which does in fact consistently happen- we see the doctor that he goes to for immediate surgery impulsively begin to huff the anesthesia and philander with his nurse right there in the surgical room, as well as a gaggle of news reporters entering into a playground fistfight for an exclusive interview with Ig, which make for the film's more enjoyable and worthwhile moments. Except this doesn't happen- at least not in a parade of charades that might have made for a much more entertaining time. No, this is not that movie. It's something that casts a much wider net, and with such a vast and rich world that the movie attempts to explain and explore, these moments feel even more out of place in the larger context.

What really derails the film is the relentless framing as being a fantasy film, and acts on sweeping romance reminiscent of a Guillermo del Toro inspiration, which isn't dialed in nearly enough to be successful here.

What follows, or rather what is so awkwardly intercut between these odd happenings, is an entire emotional construction that attempts to breed itself as equal parts romance. With flashback storytelling, which introduces his childhood friends, including his more loved older brother Terry (the entertainingly squirrely Joe Anderson) and best friend and eventual Defense Attorney (pro-bono) Lee Tourneau (Max Minghella), we are bogged down with a clunky and ineffective back story that so desperately wants to show the origins of his budding relationship with Merrin. We then see Ig and Merrin in a truly fantastical montage of true love-ing in their hideaway forest and storybook tree house, as well all of their googly-eye times together. After her death, we proceed to get a descent into drunken lovelorn obtuseness, a cacophony of genre and intended feeling that would be fun if it weren't akin to a gigantic eye roll.

What really derails the film is the relentless framing as being a fantasy film, and acts on sweeping romance reminiscent of a Guillermo del Toro inspiration, which isn't dialed in nearly enough to be successful here. Although director Alexandre Aja is no stranger to handling reality-blending (and bending) narrative, as seen with 2006's The Hills Have Eyes and 2010's Piranha 3-D (as well as writing the 2012 Elijah Wood-starrer Maniac), he seems to dizzy himself up and lose himself in the show. Based off of the novel of the same name, written by Joe Hill, we might've gotten a more cohesive textual reading if we had just read the book instead. Things might have all leveled out a bit more, and we might have even understood that Ig's (possibly) wrongful accusation by a crazed public might illustrate a larger symbolism of hypocrisy in realizing personal sins and those who don't acknowledge it, crucifying a guy who they all just deem to be guilty/evil. Or it might have come across as a more sentimental take at love lost, and of the tortured inner spirit of a man losing the love of his life. But when you have a film that wishes to be all things at all times, especially in a more literal and more unforgiving cinematic form where the abstract needs to be nailed down in a completely visual sense, it's a wonder that nobody could express the elephant in the room (or the horns on the forehead) that the story just needed to pick a tone and stick with it.

Horns is in theaters this Friday.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8s_1UcdoNI

by Ryan Rojas

Jake Gyllenhaal on 'Nightcrawler'

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In today's modern movie age, there are perhaps only a handful of actors that can play double-duty in commanding both big event Blockbuster films as well as more artistically-driven specialty films. Among those select few is Jake Gyllenhaal, whose incredibly varied and consistently high-performing career always seems to circle back to his involvement in these slightly twisted, left-of-center specialty films, as a man with a darkness that just can't seem to escape him. So it makes sense to see That Gyllenhaal here, taking the night-shift in this new indie thriller, and dropping a reported twenty pounds to play gaunt-faced Louis Bloom, (perhaps a distant relative of Norman Bates in terms of eerie kookiness) who finds himself gravitating to the frenzied world of freelance crime scene filming. The performance is delicious and unnerving, and among one of his most enjoyable and weirdly fun roles (Read Nic's glowing review here); the film is Nightcrawler, an L.A.-set hypnotic ride-along (that might be this year's best midnight movie), and the directorial debut from The Bourne Legacy reboot penner Dan Gilroy. At a recent press day, Jake Gyllenhaal spoke of the movie, and about the modern age of journalism (which makes for interesting conversation when expressing his reservations about its current state to a room full of journalists), his infamous weight loss, and his love for his hometown, L.A. (and he's not quoting Randy Newman). We begin:

 

YOUR LAST STRING OF FILMS (PRISONERS, ENEMY) AND NOW, NIGHTCRAWLER, ARE EACH SO CONCEPTUALLY AND ARTISTICALLY INTERESTING FROM A DIRECTOR'S POINT OF VIEW. DO YOU HAVE ANY AMBITIONS TO BE A DIRECTOR AT SOME POINT?

My father’s a director and my mother’s a director too now, actually. I know from my experience in watching people do it, and I’ve had the opportunity to work with people who are really good at it, that it would be presumptuous of me to say that. I would like to try my hand at it at some point, yeah.

 

WHEN IT CAME TO PIECING TOGETHER LOUIS, DID YOU DO SOME RESEARCH IN THE WAY MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKERS TALK?

The hand gesturing, that was all… I don’t know if you’ve met Dan Gilroy, but Dan and I talked a lot about how there’s somebody I base the character on who used his hands a lot, but Dan is also like…[Makes hands gestures].

But no, I didn’t study anybody who did self-help; the words just guided me there. I didn’t veer off on word or one period, or any commas throughout the whole thing. That way guided me to be very specific.

 

WHAT ABOUT THE WAY YOU MESSED WITH YOUR HAIR? WHAT THAT SOMETHING YOU READ IN THE SCRIPT?

I just thought, what if when Lou was headed into filming his hair gets in his way?, ‘cause my hair was pretty long at the time, and there’s actually a moment in the movie where my hair is all in my face and I’m filming- there was a lot of inspiration coming at me from all over the place.

I said to Dan, "Wouldn’t it be great if I was talking to Rick in the car, giving him speeches, and as I’m talking- like we all do who have driven cars in Los Angeles- drive with my knee while putting my hair up. There was something about it that was like a ninja, he thought he was a ninja. Like when he stole that bike, he was a f*cking ninja.

There’s nothing I love more than another actor who is gonna side-swipe me. It’s so much fun.

YOUR CHARACTER IS LIKE NORMAN BATES-MEETS-TV NEWS- DID YOU SEE SOME SOCIOPATH IN HIM?

My belief in using that word is that it takes the owns off of us in the creation of Lou. I feel like he is our creation, without our desperation for information of all sorts in a world where unimportant information is now important and important info is unimportant, people like Lou can thrive. He is the product of a generation where jobs are scarce and they are transforming the idea of what someone does. Like the other day, someone said ‘I don’t write articles, I post.’ Whole generations of people are coming into the world thinking, "What is a job?"

Lou is a walking metaphor. That’s how I look at him. He is enabled by (Station News Director) Nina (Rene Russo), Nina is enabled by the guys at the station, and they are enabled by us. There is a world, ideally, where someone like Lou wouldn’t end up being the head of a huge major network, but I feel like the world we live in now, he probably would.

 

HOW DO YOU FIND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN JOURNALISM AND ‘CELEBRITY CULTURE’ ENTERTAINMENT?

Celebrity culture is very different between life and death, and what Lou does is find the difference between life and death. When you’re following somebody who’s just living their life, it’s not comparable [to journalism].

 

CAN YOU TALK ABOUT WORKING WITH RENE RUSSO, AS A PERSON AND AN ACTOR?

In the restaurant scene, Dan, her husband, gave her very little to survive with. I would say that Lou is given a figurative 50-caliber machine gun in that scene with his words and she is given a spoon. I walked into that scene expecting to just, win. And eventually he does win that scene, but Rene came in and made it a struggle for me in that, even with close to nothing to defend with, she was a fierce competitor. The choices that she was making moment to moment, like when she touched my leg, that was a choice she was doing underneath the table that no one will see. She was just trying to mess with me.

There’s nothing I love more than another actor who is gonna side-swipe me. It’s so much fun.

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CAN WE TALK ABOUT YOUR LOOK?

[Laughs]. Well I have an extraordinary makeup artist who worked with me on the movie Prisoners. We had extraordinary department heads on this movie, from Robert Elswit, who shot our movie, all the way to our production head. It was nuts.

One of the biggest things is that Lou only sweats once in the movie, and that was a very particular thing that we talked about often. The only time he sweats is out of excitement when he’s going through that house, because he’s f*cking psyched! Every other exchange is a cool-confidence to him.

So those types of things, in terms of my face, the choices we made, losing weight, that was just months of getting into it. As we were shooting I would run to set, and at a certain point I was running through Griffith Park all the time- 8 to 15 miles a day- picturing myself as a coyote with all the coyotes. I wasn’t really aware of [my physical transformation] until a few months ago when we were going through all the cuts.

 

WHEN THE FILM COMES OUT, YOU WILL BE ASKED TO MAKE AN INDICTMENT TO THE NEWS BUSINESS AND HOW WE COVER STORIES AND PUT OUT INFORMATION. ARE YOU COMFORTABLE BEING PUT IN THAT POSITION?

My form of communication is through the movies I make. I think this movie is incredibility fun to watch and entertaining, as well as I feel like some kind of commentary. When you can get the two in one movie, those are the types of movies I wanna make. I don’t think any story is good unless there’s some kind of commentary somewhere. Dan Gilroy has a point of view, and I think he’s created this character to shine light on the fact that I don’t think a character like Lou could exist unless we created him.

I have been more moved by the media emotionally, my heart has swelled as a result of stories I’ve read, and I’ve been disgusted at the same time from other stories I’ve read. I think that is what’s beautiful about the job you all do.

 

IN THE MOVIE, L.A. IS LIKE ITS OWN CHARACTER, AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. HOW DO YOU DESCRIBE L.A., AND HOW DID THAT PLAY INTO YOUR CHARACTER?

L.A. is where I was born and raised. I live in New York now, and every time I fly in, I love L.A., and I don’t want to quote Randy Newman.

[Laughter]

The movie would not have been able to be made anywhere else. This is a Los Angeles movie. Every time I talk to anybody who has seen the movie and I say, ‘I base this character off of a coyote,’ they all go, ‘Ohhh!’ Like, who hasn’t been eye-f*cked by a coyote? They are not intimated by you at all! In fact, they are looking for the most vulnerable aspect of you. They’re a beautiful animal, I’ve grown to love them cause I’ve done so much research and felt like I was one of them for so long playing this character.

Nightcrawler is in theaters this Friday.

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'White Bird in a Blizzard'

Much like young heroine Kat Connor, who, amidst a kerfuffle of dizzying major life-altering events, struggles to make sense of the whizzing elements around her, you might find yourself less than impressed with the overly-stuffed and acted, White Bird in a Blizzard.

Adapted from the Young-adult novel of the same name, YA book-to-screen favorite Shailene Woodley is tasked here with trying to keep this sagging Coming of age thriller afloat as Kat (who provides casual and unconvincing voice-over narration throughout), a high-school aged girl who is met with two very different life-changing circumstances, and at the same time: that of realizing her new body and self as a young woman (and with that, embarking on a wildly-charged sexual maturity), along with the disappearance of her unhappy, if not outright paranoid, once-beauty-turned-homemaker mother, Eve (Eva Green).

Now, as is fully recognized- books, by their nature of giving audiences total creative freedom by making us picture the entire story in our heads, will always have the advantage of having perfectly played subtlety and nuance with all things. With this acknowledgment, it's less than fair to compare a movie to its book form. However, when a movie tries to earn the same elaborate and emotional victories without providing the carefully selected words and prose that the author (in this case, Laura Kasischke) would use, a movie can quickly feel flat and imitative, which does not escape this film's doings.

Blizzard operates in a highly staged, highly dressed up world, which is furthered by its time era. Set in the noticeably costumed world of 1980s and New Wave rock, and before familial drama knew the politics of New Age parenting, we see that Kat lives the life of a single child, a high school rocker who just grew into her most attractive qualities, and not to the non-noticing of her desperately kooky mother, a former beautiful young thing herself. Here, Eva Green gives a meaty piece of manic performance, which spurs the film with some intrigue, but feels a bit too played up nonetheless. It's when Eve and her controlling nature suddenly vanish one day that sets in place the story of a young girl who must brave her own life, and through the lens of her disappeared mother.

While these dreamy elements might make for rich abstract world-making for any novel, the insurmountable task of bringing those elements to life in a harmonious way is the true challenge, which is noticeable here in this R-rated thriller.

In its earliest opening sequences, it's immediately clear that there is a visual interest to the flick that director Gregg Akai (Kaboom) dials into here, bringing a dreamy-realism that drives this created world and its' mysteries and intrigues ever forward, for a story that might have otherwise easily felt trite and boring. While these dreamy elements might make for rich abstract world-making for any novel, the insurmountable task of bringing those elements to life in a harmonious way is the true challenge, which is noticeable here in this R-rated thriller. The film threads a handful of reoccurring fantasy sequences, showing Kat edging ever closer to a nude lifeless figure in the snow (don't worry, it's a fantasy sequence), the rest of the movie tries to make Kat and her young life just as interesting- but neither Woodley herself or the story around her provide anything to grasp onto except for moderate entertainment.

One of the more interesting parts of the film- and for reasons other than you might expect- is Woodley's decision to bare all on screen. A handful of these nude scenes show Kat embarking on her sexual life with dumb hunk Phil (Shiloh Fernandez) and Detective Scieziesciez (Thomas Jane), but these scenes feel so detached from the character and the larger story at play (seriously Kat, you have no reservations about your missing mother?) that the emotional impact from such scenes is hard to feel.

It's not that the film doesn't generate interesting, stirring, and worthwhile watching. Each component is rich, and the end film certainly won't leave you thinking you didn't get a full meal (with a twist that lifts the film ever slightly). Christopher Meloni as Kat's loser dad and disappointing husband Brock is a devilish joy to watch, even while his character is so obviously cut from the cloth of creepy weird hermits who may or may not have a secret to keep. But with too many dovetailing elements, including an unnecessarily long third act that sees Kat go off to college, and stays with her until she comes home to learn the truth of Eve's vanishing, White Bird in a Blizzard's attempt to fulfill both artistic and commercial expectations falls short.

In theaters this Friday.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7D1W_aH72-g

by Ryan Rojas

Whiplash

As films about music and musicians go, largely split between being dramatic biopics of a naive star navigating the turbulent waters of the industry itself or all-out pop-heavy musical celebrations, most have revered 'music' and regarded it in its most magisterial of ways. Characters' all-consuming torment or glee is typically played against its beautiful, romantic, and purified sonic elements to elevate the bigger, surrounding drama. It might be safe to say, however, that these filmmakers didn't play in the same demanding high-school music orchestra that second-time feature film director Damien Chazelle did. And what he learned there, was that music is nothing near related to "being safe."

A former jazz student drummer himself, Chazelle writes and directs the heart-pounding semi-autobiographical film, Whiplash (this year's Sundance Grand Prize Jury winner, the festival's highest award), about a similarly dedicated undergrad musician, whose discovery by the school's eccentric, if not outright hostile jazz ensemble instructor at the school's East coast music conservatory leads to a relentless obsession that pushes the boundaries of how far one will go, and how much one will endure, to achieve greatness. Chazelle, in a Director's Statement about the film, says, "There are a lot of movies about the joy of music. But as a young drummer in a conservatory high school jazz orchestra, the emotion I felt the most frequently was a different one: fear. Fear of missing a beat. Fear of losing tempo. Most overwhelmingly, fear of my conductor."

Check out our interview coverage with Miles Teller, J.K. Simmons, and Damien Chazelle, on Whiplash

From a voided black splash, our first sensory cue is the lone, echoing build of a snare drum. A single hit, like a gunshot, followed by another, and then by another, in ever-quickening measurement, culminates in a drum roll that sees jazz drummer Andrew (Miles Teller) playing in the school's practice room. As an ominous ghostly presence in slim-fitting all-black wears, Terence Fletcher (J.K. Simmons), head cue-balled, arms toned, and eyes unwavering, immediately barks drum beats for Andrew to play back perfectly. The mechanics of this scene alone, and serving as the film's opening, set the tension-filled operatic stage that is doomed to meet tormenting and self-sacrificing proportions.

From there, it's a film ablaze, where the next day Andrew is singularly plucked from being an "alternate," turning the sheet music pages for the "core" drummer and transferred into Terence's distinguished performance jazz ensemble as the lead drummer. Inspired and drawn in by Terence's initial warm-heartedness, Andrew finds that his too-good-to-be-true opportunity proves to be just that; in a dizzyingly-instant moment, he is blind-sighted by his instructor's immediate trial-by-fire teaching method, by way of hurling a drum-cymbal at his just-off-tempo drummer's head. Scenes of Terence spitting venom at his newly petrified protege take on ever-increasing suspense and tension, as head-spinning camera whip-pans and quick-cut editing nearly overwhelm and suffocate the audience's senses, a hypnotic and consuming experience of sweat, blood, tears, and paranoia.

I can say with total confidence that you won't see another movie so directorially confident from any other first time director this year.

The fast-rising Teller, whose earlier and smaller star-making billings (The Spectacular Now) are quickly getting replaced with bigger studio projects (his 'Mr. Fantastic' in Marvel's The Fantastic Four reboot is slated to come out next year) is able to show off his most sincere and honest acting chops, as well as a further dedication to the craft with this demanding role that sees him trading his cool guy charisma with a more reserved, laser-focused determination, with solemn inner-willing of wanting to be the next Charlie Parker, to be the best jazz drummer ever. Teller further impresses in this role that sees his character's incredible journey and range, from seething frustration, weeping angst, and a physical embodiment complete with bloodied raw hands and sweat-pouring exhaustion, bringing his real-life drumming experience to perform the film's incredible musical numbers himself.

However, the meat of the movie is in the crucially necessary performance needed from Simmons, who more than rises to this occasion. His comically gruff groucho persona wades deep into the thickness of vitriol-laced contempt for all who dare defy his expectations, making him the most transfixing and fear-making element of the movie.

Visually, and at its very best, Whiplash takes the eery yellowed and greened colors and ominously foreboding camerawork reminiscent of The Social Network, mixed with two heavy parts paranoia and obsession, served neatly as a devilish and spiraling-mad cocktail. How many more ways do I have to say, just go see this movie already?

Whiplash should be further praised for being the gripping and original screenplay that it is, which Chazelle and company shot in a brisk nineteen days. This breakneck shooting schedule is successfully felt onscreen, with a rushed momentum that propels the movie forward, creating and heightening stakes in its second and third acts, and resulting in an all-out blitzkrieg of movie endings in one of the most cathartic of grand finales, taking place in Carnegie Hall. I can say with total confidence that you won't see another movie so directorially confident from any other first second time director this year. Chazelle's Whiplash, like the art of drumming, delivers precise and hard hits, moving from quieter moments of stolen vulnerability to blistering and primal rampage. And when it's over, all you'll hear is the silent echo of what you will still be wondering was controlled chaos, and what was not.

'Whiplash' is in theaters this Friday.

*Update: An earlier version of this review incorrectly listed Whiplash as being Damien Chazelle's first feature film. It is his second.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7d_jQycdQGo

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Two Night Stand'

For this generation of hip young Millenials- whose philosophic outlook on life stems from an ever-non-bothered, life-is-good mentality, it certainly sucks when events outside of their control force them to acknowledge worldly inconveniences, and god forbid- awkwardness, with their contemporary counterparts.

This cultural awareness of today’s internet generation, in story, tone, and sex-driven humor, is nailed down exactly and casually, in the new soft-“R” rated romantic comedy, Two Night Stand. Starring fresh-faced up-and-comers Miles Teller (The Spectacular Now) and Analeigh Tipton (Crazy, Stupid, Love), Two Night Stand tells the story of Megan (Tipton) and Alec (Teller), who, after a night’s hook-up (initiated by a determined Megan by way of an online dating website looking for a night of meaningless sex- you know, to clear the head), find that an overnight snow storm has blocked the apartment’s front door exit, forcing them to spend an unplanned second day together.

There is quite a lot to like in this movie- it being manageably made with a finger on the pulse of this new turn of the century adult-kid culture, addressing how these new young adults are meeting existential crises and trying to make sense of new found larger-world consequences- but first, a bong toke (you know, to clear the head). At least that’s Alec’s decision-making, as he and Megan, having started the next morning off on the wrong foot, are forced to lazily pass the time. There’s also a dance party, ping-pong, and an elaborate snow storm-braving rescue mission to retrieve a neighbor’s plunger. And in a bigger series of events, Megan and Alec, with their detached-intelligence professed to override their emotional viewpoints, land on the idea that, since they obviously will never see each other again after this terrible time together, to use the forced shut-in to give some “pointers” to the other, so that they’ll at least improve their "skills" for their next partners. Of course, casual sex never lends itself to a clean break, which leads to further unexpected consequences.

There is quite a lot to like in this movie- it being manage-ably made with a finger on the pulse of this new turn of the century adult-kid culture, addressing how these new young adults are meeting existential crises and trying to make sense of new found larger-world consequences- but first, a bong-toke (you know, to clear the head).

On the whole, the film works, getting by on good consistent fun from the mix of all its parts. Screenwriter Mark Hammer writes a fresh story here that this 23-year-old found entirely non-cringeworthy (a high compliment), even if it felt a bit more mechanical than an episode of Girls might. First-time feature-film director Max Nichols, who, in our exclusive interview, said to “worship at the alter of John Hughes,” balances the characters' headstrong confidence with their deeper and more guarded insecurities, as the Breakfast Club auteur so magically did (as well as his father Mike Nichols with The Graduate). And of course, the presence of Tipton and Teller, who, at this point have already accumulated impressive and sizable projects under their belts, are so naturally and effortlessly charming. Teller, with his cool-guy quippiness, and Tipton, with her truly unique brand of comic delivery (think a few points bubblier than Aubrey Plaza) are fun-to-watch actors, whose shared chemistry alone is enough to drive the movie forward.

While the film has its detractors, with its messy third act, and even in the finer particulars of the characters themselves (It’s hard to believe Megan was engaged for four years throughout Medical school but really only wanted to be a homemaker for her fiancé, and Alec being a simple dude who just “works at a bank,”) stand out as mental hang-ups that seem to peskily linger in the back of our minds. There are some further plot-driven events that move the story along at the exception of a few eye-rolls, and a bit more chaos ensuing in the prison-by-apartment scenario would have been fun to watch. But this is not that movie. This movie is a non-offending, charming, young-adult romantic comedy, that qualifies much more as serviceable date movie than generation-defining film. An of-the-moment soundtrack, led by hits from psychedelic electronica band STRFCKR (pronounced with its missing vowels) provides an upbeat and trendy backdrop for the New York love story to take place in.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcSosCe0B-A

by Ryan Rojas

Max Nichols on 'Two Night Stand'

This writer will go out on a limb and say that, since this first-time feature film director is still working to make his name known to movie audiences at large, that most introductory paragraphs profiling the director will cut right to the part about his father being Max Nichols, director of the seminal 60's classic on the confusion of young adulthood, The Graduate. Even further, any number of write-ups probably make the next logical step in comparing this director's first film, about recently graduated millennials navigating the new-age waters of hook-up land, again, to the Dustin Hoffman classic. And while all of the above statements are entirely true, it's not all entirely accurate, in getting to know Max Nichols. A self-professed metal-head loving music video director, I recently spoke with the forty one year-old father, who, in a phone interview, relayed nothing but humorous and thoughtful conversation, honest self-reflection, and effortless cool. Max Nichols, delivering his first big-budget (or more accurately, bigger budget) film, talked about youth culture, his earliest film-viewing and on-set experiences, and what he learned to be extremely careful of when reading future scripts. We begin:

HI MAX, MR. NICHOLS. HOW ARE YOU DOING?
…I’m going to apologize in advance for the rambunctious toddlers in the background…

TWO NIGHT STAND OPENS IN THEATERS THIS FRIDAY- HOW HAS THIS JOURNEY BEEN FOR YOU?
It’s been thrilling every step of the way. I read so many scripts before coming across one that made me think, "Oh man, I gotta do this movie," which is exactly how I felt the moment I read Mark Hammer’s Two Night Stand. From that auspicious beginning, to meeting Analeigh (Tipton) and Miles (Teller), and winding up with this incredible cast and amazing crew, at the risk of sounding a little corny- it’s been a dream come true.

WHAT WAS THE FIRST FILM YOU SAW THAT TRULY AFFECTED YOU ON A DIRECTING LEVEL, THAT MADE YOU THINK, 'I WANT TO DO THAT'? 
Probably The Breakfast Club. I was at the perfect age when that movie came out, in that I was a little bit younger than the characters but old enough to have an appreciation of how unprecedented the honest depiction of what it’s like to be that age. It just seemed completely different than any movie I had ever seen before.

Obviously I worship at the alter of John Hughes now, but at the time I was like "This guy gets it!" To provide this word of teenager-dom that I was so fascinated by- it was like John Hughes was some sort of wizard.

WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST EXPERIENCE LIKE BEING ON A SET? I KNOW YOU STARTED OUT WORKING IN THE MUSIC VIDEO WORLD.
Well my dad is a director, so I’ve spent a fair amount of time on set with him when I was a kid, including when I was just a little baby. So we'd probably have to turn to another source for a good anecdote about my very first experience on set...

One early set memory that I have, and it's certainly not a particularly elevated one from a "cinema" standpoint, was, I remember being on set with my dad in Texas, while he was shooting Silkwood. And I couldn't believe that there was a whole truck parked there, that could make you a cheeseburger anytime you want, and that you could have as many cheeseburgers as you wanted in any given day. And then there was a whole other place where there was just a whole stack of candy that you could just go take. I mean, more than anything, that probably told me, "This is where I need to work."

Honestly, it felt like an opportunity to bring my friends, or at least maybe younger versions of my friends, to life on the screen in a way that, at least it didn't seem to me, was happening at the moment.

WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST DIRECTING EXPERIENCE? DID YOU MAKE IT A POINT TO HAVE THE SAME CRAFT SERVICES YOU REMEMBERED SEEING AS A KID?
[Laughter] Oh man, if only that had been possible!

The first video I directed was, and I had worked in the music business a little bit when I was younger, so I'd been on set with other music videos, but the first music video I directed was for a fantastic band named American Minor. Just like a great, contemporary classic rock band, if there is such a thing. And they had this great song called "Buffalo Creek," and we shot it in this basement in this hideous, disgusting basement in LA, that I've since been told many times has been used for pretty much every other either gore or porn movie out there, but we put it to other use that day.

And no, I mean, as far as microscopic budget, I think maybe one pizza, or a couple Subway subs for the whole crew to share at lunch time. And since all we could afford was to have the band perform, I think they performed for about thirteen hours straight. I hadn't quite properly factored in the toll that would take on them, and when we were done I was like, "Cool man, you guys wanna go out and get some drinks?" And I think they pretty much collectively collapsed.

DID YOU FIND THAT BEING THE SON OF A LEGENDARY FILM DIRECTOR HELPED OR HINDERED YOUR OWN BURGEONING CAREER AS A DIRECTOR WHEN FIRST STARTING OUT?
Um, I don't know? I came to directing through this music video world where it was sort of, you know, maybe a thing that people knew, or maybe they didn't? But it didn't seem to have sort of a tremendous cache in that world, because it primarily came down to, "Well, who else have you done videos for? What do they look like? Were they hits?" So I think it was nice for me to have an opportunity, through the many twists and turns that life takes, for me to spend a long time working in that realm, and have an opportunity to develop some, what I hope is at least a little bit of skill and talent as a director, before turning to a feature. Maybe it made the whole thing a little less loaded for me, than it might have been otherwise.

RETURNING TO TWO NIGHT STAND, ABOUT TWO YOUNG COLLEGE GRADS WHO ARE AWKWARDLY SNOWED IN TOGETHER AFTER A ONE-NIGHT FLING… THE FILM SO HEAVILY RELIES ON THESE YOUNG ACTORS' CHARM AND PERFORMANCES, AS WE'RE PRETTY MUCH TRAPPED IN THE SAME ROOM WITH  THEM FOR THE ENTIRETY OF THE MOVIE. WHAT WERE YOU EXCITED TO BRING TO THE SCREEN AFTER READING THIS SCRIPT?
One of the things that I was sort of most drawn to, in that regard was, the voice that Mark Hammer wrote and captured for Megan (Tipton). It just rang like, head and shoulders above so many other young female characters that I read as authentic, and was so evocative of so many smart, funny, sarcastic young women that I know.

Honestly, it felt like an opportunity to bring my friends, or at least maybe younger versions of my friends, to life on the screen in a way that, at least it didn't seem to me, was happening at the moment. And that when it came to Miles and Analeigh embodying those characters...there was something particularly when I first met Analeigh. She just seemed so singular, and distinct to me, and was sort of unlike any particular human I had met before, in this wonderful way that, I knew that if I felt that way over her, that people would buy having such a powerful reaction to her in their short time together. And I felt that audiences would feel really drawn to her in the short time that they spent with the characters as well. And I'm lucky to say that, at least so far, that's been the case.

THIS BEING YOUR FIRST FEATURE FILM, WHAT ARE YOU ULTIMATELY WALKING AWAY WITH, AND HAVING LEARNED AFTER MAKING THIS FILM?
I think coming off this movie in particular, I have learned to be very, very careful should I ever encounter the word "snow" or "ping-pong" in a script again, for completely different reasons. Both are almost impossible to re-create in a scene. I realize now that it is extremely easy to write: "Megan and Alec play ping-pong." Shooting and covering a scene where Megan and Alec play ping-pong, with anything resembling continuity...if there's a director out there effortlessly, my hat is off to 'em.

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them'

Although there is a unique, conceptually ambitious movie that exists in first-time writer/director Ned Benson's The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them, the audience, unfortunately, probably wouldn't know it, after seeing this re-cut version of his film(s).

Initially conceived as a more "experimental" movie-watching experience, the original vision for Rigby was for audiences to watch two films, a sort-of double feature that followed the same story but told from the differing perspectives of its male and female lead characters, and affixed with the respective titles, Him and Her.

This original vision played at last year's TIFF, and was bought and sold to The Weinstein Company. Now, eight months later, Benson and Harvey "Scissorhands" (infamous for re-editing acquired films so as to perform better theatrically) have combined both versions, Him and Her, to create this third version, : Them. However, the result in denying audiences the two-film experience, and doing away with the filmmakers' exploratory attempt to create a third, more powerful synergistic effect, does not work for this film- the takeaway is one of non-satisfaction, as the film fails to successfully mine the focused riches that either singular film might have offered in their own right (Read Jasper's review of The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Her/Him, here).

At its best, the film reveals an authenticity about the human condition, and our search for reason and meaning in a world that may offer none; at its worst, it reveals that it might just be the film itself that suffers from its own existential crisis.

The story of a broken marriage at the hands of a family tragedy, the film stars Jessica Chastain and James McAvoy, with her as the titular character. It should be said early that the title while lending itself to hints of mystery, or perhaps Beatles-referencing, is loyal to neither, and only serves as being an intriguing title for an art house film. The film, at just over two hours long, is a free-flowing collection of scenes intimate, fragile, and most impressively, honest, about how family and lovers take to dealing with such new heartbreaking territory. Benson crafts each scene to hold such emotional weight and authenticity that the whole thing feels massively charged with real life understanding and empathy in a way that only skilled filmmakers and actors could achieve. Similar in nature to the dark drama Rabbit Hole, also about a couple dealing with the tragic loss of an infant child, Rigby: Them follows each estranged spouse as they try to figure out how to go on and make sense of their lives.

Rigby: Them is certainly confident film-making. Even this third version feels like a well-made film, technically speaking. But there's just no denying that, after combining two films that were intent on remaining separate so as to allow the audience to see the differences in perspective, memory, and understanding that would manifest itself on screen, the story here feels aimless. We have no distinct protagonist to follow here; certainly not Eleanor Rigby, who, despite Chastain's incredibly lived-in performance and commitment, we feel we never truly connect with due to the film's impartial coverage between its leads. Nor with McAvoy, who gives a fine turn here as well- but with such elastic back-and-forth scene-work, seeing each character in such removed emotional areas, and for a good part of the time Eleanor and Colin (McAvoy) are shown dealing with their own friends and family (making good, yet sparse use of James Hurt, Viola Davis, and Bill Hader), the pair's most important scenes fail to give way to anything more transcendent. At its best, the film reveals an authenticity about the human condition, and of our search for reason and meaning in a world that may offer none; at its worst, it reveals that it might just be the film itself that suffers from its own existential crisis. The good news is that Him and Her will find their theatrical distribution come October, when the film can be more properly understood, and therefore, reviewed, in all three versions.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Ng4MD66WyU

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'To Be Takei'

In 2012, a Tennessee Senate Committee approved a bill that would prohibit teachers in that state from discussing homosexuality in the classroom, soon enough known as, the “don’t say gay” law. However, the bigoted legislation was met with opposition by the LGBQT community, and especially by one man, with enough pop culture and political credibility to counter the measure and start a movement. In a characteristically clever and tongue-in-cheek response, the man would oppose the bill by simply lending his name, stating, "Anytime you need to say the word 'gay,' you can simply say 'Takei!'" And so, the slogan and life affirmation was born, "It's OK to be Takei!"

From his star-making role as Sulu in the cult-worshiped television series Star Trek, the movie provides an account of his entire life's story. This documentary, while broadly told in the assemblage of footage and weaving of its subject's story, reveals even more depth to his more caricatured present-day public persona- as a War-afflicted youth, a sexually struggling young adult, and a fervent political activist, who's own battles and life events inspired countless people across the world.

This documentary will probably be sought out and watched mostly by the star's already devoted and loyal fan base, and probably more enjoyed by them too. Not to say that Takei isn't revealed to be a man full of humor and dignity, which he's employed in all of his life's work and pursuits -it's just that the level of depth and attention given to his whole life, opening with his simple domestic home life with partner and husband Brad Takei, might disarm some, as if the whole conception is half biography/half reality television show. Some of these "candid" moments play incredibly flat, given the level of discomfort Brad has in front of the cameras during the entirety of the movie. However, this adds to his charm and likability, and to that of the couple themselves. And in seeing a thorough storyline of George and Brad, at home, out and about, doing press events, we see how normal George is in his present-day life- which goes to highlight how that wasn't always the case.

To the (my) millennial generation, "George Takei" has taken on a persona and "third-person status" that has entered the pop culture lexicon, bigger than the person himself. With his suggestively sly trademark quip "Oh my..." and guest appearing "as himself" on shows like The Big Bang Theory, as well as having been popularized for his meme-sharing Facebook page (which, as of this review, has more than 7.5 million fans), it's understandable to acknowledge that Takei the person has been overshadowed by these more superficial significances in mass media consumption. We learn soon enough though, that behind the comical charade of which we all partake (Takei included), that there is a man, a human, who has endured more singular persecution than most anywhere have or do, be it in show business or anywhere else.

While the documentary itself might have been improved with a few more tweaks and edits, everything that's inside is more than enough to show how, behind his beloved celebrity figure, there is a man full of honor...

Moving past George and Brad's simple life at home (and past the Star Trek story for framing references) we move into more honest, emotive storytelling. We return frequently to the story of his earliest childhood living in Los Angeles, and of his family's Japanese-American ancestry which, after the attack on Pearl Harbor and this country's introduction into World War II, became the target for racial discrimination, forcing a young George, his family, and all others of Japanese descent, into internment camps all over the country. This harrowing story, which is often forgot (or at least willfully ignored) is once again presented into the modern public consciousness with a multitude of black and white archival footage, aiding in our understanding of the events by way of George the movie star's own personal stories and experiences. The events of having his family lose their house, business, and rights as American citizens, would seem likely to harden any person, giving rightful bitterness and ill-will to the country who betrayed their own. Takei however, would embark on a life of optimism and positivity through all of life's events, with his signature grin and bass-toned laugh that joins his daily speech throughout. He even wrote a musical about these childhood events (called Allegiance, in which he stars and sings, which we return to continuously).

As if the incredible discrimination faced by George wouldn't already be enough for any person to take on, Takei also experienced young adulthood as a gay man (he realized his orientation in the fourth grade) during a time when homosexuality was unaccepted in the larger culture's consciousness. These personal hardships would, again, seem likely to evoke feelings of resentment or contempt for the institutions around them. And perhaps Takei's ever-constant laugh hides or masks a deeper avoidance of some of these emotions (in a telling part of the movie, an agitated Brad calls out Takei for "always laughing after he says something serious," to which Takei voices even heartier amusement from). Though it would be off-base for this reviewer to offer this as psychological analysis, the actions perceived in the film at the very least give a window into the soul of a man who had to make his way in the world against all odds. So as composed and self-assured a homosexual man as the celebrity is today, it is of course interesting to see him recall events of his past- of hiding his sexuality as a youth and when he began to break into the industry with his first acting roles, as well as outwardly saying that he wasn't gay on Howard Stern's radio program in the 1990's- which we then see transition into his second life's work, advocating civil rights for the LGBQT community.

Throughout watching the slices of life with Brad (busier than ever with events and appearances) and the World War II recounting stories, the third focal point of the documentary showcases Takei's "coming out," and his taking to championing gay rights ever since (as stated in this review's first paragraph). We see Takei speaking in numerous television segments, in countless media and political events, parades, and the like. Takei's life work stands as a champion of the causes, from being a hero for all costumed "nerd-dom," for Asian-Americans, and those in the LGBQT community. We finally see George performing in Allegiance, and in the show's climax, singing through weeping eyes, the story of his parents' resilience to, after the discrimination they endured, to continue to live on with pride and dignity. While the documentary itself might have been improved with a few more tweaks and edits, everything that's inside is more than enough to show how, behind his beloved celebrity figure, there is a man full of honor, who has not only endured life's greatest hardships but proved inspiring through his life's advocating and work, which continues to this day. In this respect, we learn how entertaining, inspiring, and honorable it is, to be Takei.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUkA3RvwcWw

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Love Is Strange'

For a movie whose universally-commentating title would imply it to reveal unexpected and unusual events, arising from said declarative statement, this new-age love story sure is misleading.

In fact, writer/director Ira Sachs' latest effort, Love Is Strange, almost seems to take on the motivated spirit of championing how love, across all genders, is so not strange in this mildly droll outing. Though perhaps it is love's surrounding societal factors that threaten it and relationships of all kinds, even in this twenty-first century, that Sachs is intending to tap into. For we not only see a story of how later-in-life homosexual partners are forced to confront the failings in both the institutions that they  both live in as well as the bond between them, but also the same dealings faced by husbands and wives.

The setting is present day upscale New York, and in this first scene we see longtime partners, the more divaesque seventy-something Ben (John Lithgow) and more rationally-centered and more English George (Alfred Molina), getting ready for their wedding day, of which they've waited forty plus years until was finally legally recognized in the state. Their tastefully designed tuxes and highly refined lifestyles (further evidenced by their love for their beloved uptown apartment) are captured by the film's even more exacted direction and photographing, which frames the rest of the movie and its high-brow characters in richly swathed intelligentsia culture.

So it would make sense that Ben and George's new life gets turned upside-down when a loss of income forces the pair to sell their apartment (and before that, when newly married George is fired for violating the rules of the private Catholic school where he teaches) forcing them to ask their closest family and friends to put them up while they look for a new place to call home. While their closely-knit and much loving friends of course offer their homes, none alone is separately big enough to take both in. As such, the newlyweds are forced to spend their first weeks as husband and husband in different households; Ben with two gay police officers, and George with his nephew's family and their high school-aged son.

If only there was a little more life injected into its human-component instead of being just a commentary on humans navigating through life and love, we might have enjoyed living in these peoples' lives as opposed to simply observing so.

The rest of the story, from this point on, is focused on how the taking in of the couple weighs on all involved, and exposes the flaws and shortcomings of each relationship including the families they stay with. Except the story doesn't really commit to this. Barely so, and not really, playing into the film's carefully crafted and highly refined aesthetic presentation of modern living. The problems that rise to the surface, even when speaking to bigger and more honest emotional truths, are so coolly internalized by these fairly disconnected New York socialites that the experience makes for an even bigger distance with its audience, not unlike the studying and taking in of art in a gallery. Though the circumstances presented give way to exposing understandable struggles from all characters- the pair's journey to find cheaper housing (while maintaining their comfortable lifestyle), novel-writer Jane's (Marisa Tomei) sense of growing isolation from her art-installation husband Elliot (Darren E. Burrows), and George's elderly age and a late discovered heart issue, the problems mostly file under that of "highly privileged" living, or at the very least, relate to how the film never demands its characters go through any messier emotional territory. It's a slice-of-life, restrained and polished adult love story, if the slice that's being served is of fine dining taste.

None of which is to say that Love is Strange is meritless, as the sheer reality of the story and its conflicts could (and do) befall any and all types of sexually-identifying people. And why shouldn't this of-the-times entry into Queer cinema celebrate its characters by truly humanizing them instead of flamboyant caricatures? It's just that scenes such as Ben and George's taking in of a classical concert being treated as matter-of-factly as a more intimate and stolen nighttime conversation between George and his nephew's son and temporary bunkmate Joey (Charlie Tahan) on the subject of true love, it's near impossible to crack through anything but a well composed shell, which it really doesn't intend for you to do. Yet on this merit, the film knows exactly what it intends to be, and executes itself as an aesthetically-made and pleasing adult film about adult life in all of its adult glories and downfalls. Though the film ends with realizing themes of mortality, the payoff is little earned, really, and we're only left to realize that we should understand that we should be appreciating its beauty, instead of just appreciating its beauty itself. If only there was a little more life injected into its human component instead of being just a commentary on humans navigating through life and love, we might have enjoyed living in these peoples' lives as opposed to simply observing so.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdfA5Ff5e78

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'The Trip to Italy'

It takes just one scene into The Trip To Italy until "Steve Coogan" receives a call from his best mate "Rob Brydon," and is surprised to hear that the same publication that planned their previously shared trip abroad intends to once again send them off to eat fine foods and take in rich culture, all chronicled alongside their comically philosophic ramblings and best Michael Caine impersonations; and just like that, we're plopped in a top-down Mini-Cooper, gliding through the breathtaking hills of the beautiful Italian countryside, back with the British whip-smarts on another jolly jaunt of leisure and laughs.

To give a brief overview, The Trip to Italy effectively serves as the sequel of sorts to the film (and before that, the British TV series, of the same name) that previously featured the real-life British celebrities Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, playing meta-versions of themselves, who are treated to an all-expenses-paid-for trip abroad in the even more succinctly titled, The Trip. And although the formula here follows the same strides as its predecessor as a non-stop riffing, mostly improvised buddy film-done-BBC (once again, written and directed by Michael Winterbottom), this reviewer found the film to capture a freshness just as unique and worthwhile as its polished predecessor, with its gorgeous camerawork capturing the magisterial landscape along with even more dialed in and "funnier" comedic bits.

Even if you have yet to see the first Trip outing, it won't be hard at all to jump right into the game of the movie. I admit, I myself, a fan of the first film for its high-meets-low brow package, featuring enough nuance and detail in its impeccably crafted cuisine courses as in its measured and just-narrative-enough storyline, wasn't sure if a second film could capture the same unique experience that the first one so wonderfully did. I further secretly hoped to see any scene just as funny as Coogan and Brydon's previous Michael Caine-off (wherein the first film, the two, seated formally at a fine-dining restaurant, proceeded to one-up each other with side-achingly hilarious impersonations of the knighted Englishman throughout the years), which would deem the film just as worthwhile. And how pleasantly satisfied I soon was, for but not at their first seated full-course meal did the two begin to recall their previous Michael Caine-off, and have me falling right back into side-splitting hysterics. Without giving too much away, the pair elevate the charade even higher, by bringing in more of Michael Caine's contemporaries from his most recently popular blockbuster film.

How pleasantly satisfied I soon was, for but not at (Coogan and Brydon's) first seated full-course meal did the two begin to recall their previous Michael Caine-off, and have me falling right back into side-splitting hysterics.

With these constant impersonations, audiences will either find the trip taken with these two ever-renewing and rewarding, or the shtick may tend to wear. But Brydon here is in full comedic form, bouncing around from moment to moment like a yippy dog building off of its own excitement of trying to excite Coogan's more upturned and debonair self. And the chemistry here could not be more perfectly played (having honed the relationship over years of work), and could not reveal a more complementary chemistry. Brydon, whose lesser-known celebrity (to American audiences, at least), is comprised of having an equally disorienting fascination with Lord Byron as with his revolving carousel of celebrity impersonations, including a wheel-house "Hugh Grant" and a newer-worked "Al Pacino." What's interesting here, or perhaps at least noticeable, is that in The Trip to Italy, there are a few instances where the same impersonations and comic beats arise that make the audience aware that they had just given their laugh to the same bit in earlier scenes. Perhaps this points to the fact that this sequel had the luxury of knowing what "worked" in the first film, and played those hands in more than multiple turns. In this sense, a small handful of the comic workings feel a bit repetitive, and we wish that the story would move on to the next new location and scene. However, it's a small price to pay when you realize that the story is probably all strung together by Coogan and Brydon's improvisational dialogue.

There is however, amidst all of the readily funny, off-the-cuff joke-making, a focused narrative that the characters follow throughout. And what works in this film, much like in the first, is that both characters, amidst the "funniness" they create amongst themselves, are each dealing with independently personal matters that they are forced to acknowledge and confront, even during their vacations away from their real worlds. Here, Coogan's "Coogan" is seen a bit more weighed down by the time spent apart from his now high school-aged son Joe (Timothy Leach), living mostly with his divorced wife, and we often circle back to Coogan trying to reconnect with him over the phone and Skype. Meanwhile, and played with even richer of revealing affairs, Brydon's "Brydon" is seen confronting his own insecurities, as during one stop on the trip he puts himself on tape to audition for an "American Michael Mann movie" for the part of an Italian mob's banker, but can't escape falling back on his best Pacino impersonation to read the lines. Here, and in a stolen scene where he calls his wife from the hotel room in full Hugh Grant-mode, is soon enough left to trail off into defeated mock-self conversation with the bumbling Brit's voice after his busy-at-home wife resigns herself off of the phone. Moments like these provide the film well enough dramatic earnings that provide a nice counter-balance to the overall lighthearted nature and give a grounded baseline for the rest of the movie's many offshoots to springboard from.

And of course, the film will delight and inspire audiences of all kinds simply with its many locations that it captures, including Liguria, Tuscany, Rome, Amalfi, and ending up in Capri. The stunning Italian countryside, moving to the breathtaking coast, where Coogan and Brydon day-trip by sailboat, and all around, are shot in truly inspired fashion, in no small part from the work of cinematographer James Clarke, who manages the none-small feat of providing an aesthetically beautiful backdrop to frame the characters' story in as well as fawning audience awe over. The details in the locations and delicacies abound in every cultural landmark and in every dinner dish, serving as such visual treats that when the story takes its momentary dips in inspiration, there still stands more than enough sensory satisfaction to enjoy.

The Trip to Italy is that rare type of movie whose largely improvisational filmmaking style is grounded in such weighted thematic and visual impress, that to watch the movie unfurl feels constantly new and fun. Most impressively, even in its grandly impossible and beautiful world, it impressively manages to capture a sense of real life, most all thanks given to its talented leading actors' who create a third entity between them, a special instance from the combination of their greatly realized comic personas. One of my favorite scenes was nearer to the end, when Coogan and Brydon, again, sitting across from each other sharing a meal over a gorgeous Italian coastal line, got into a bit about Coogan's "celebrity" (or lack-thereof)- where Brydon built up to such funny momentum that even Coogan- whose movie-long poker face stood resilient amidst his counterpart's manic-delivery- finally broke, and couldn't help but wholeheartedly laugh at what was another well-earned and hilarious scene. Even if you weren't there for the first trip around, this is definitely one that I'd recommend tagging along to.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55OtglvtXuI

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Magic in the Moonlight'

At seventy eight years old, Woody Allen proves that he still has a few tricks up his sleeve.

In the auteur's latest original screenplay and feature film, Allen circles back around to an inspired part of his youth, his love of magic, to dream up this charming and lovely outing. While the magic in the film readily spawns from its theatrically-inclined characters, the beautiful French Riviera landscapes and palpable chemistry between its cast (a pause to acknowledge the brilliance from longtime Allen-collaborator, casting director Julie Taylor) deems this an enjoyable, if only somewhat slightly too tamed, film.

Our "Allen" in this 1920's-set mad-cap comedy is Colin Firth, as grouchy yet gentlemanly Stanley, a world-class magician who, when not performing as Chinese conjurer Wei Ling Soo, snaps at the foolishness of the easily dupable sea of socialites around him. Which soon leads Stanley and his indulgently superior self  to a challenge of sorts; when an opportunity arises from show biz pal and lifelong friend Howard Burkan (Simon McBurnay), who tells the magician of an impossibly gifted young psychic in the form of a doe-eyed American gal, Sophie (played by a fully hypnotizing and movie-stealing Emma Stone) Stanley immediately shoots down the idea that spiritual forces should take the credit. It takes no convincing for the spiritually-poppy-cocking showman to hop from across the pond with Simon, under false identities, to the beautiful south of France, to attempt to expose the pretty young thing for the fraud that Stanley knows she is- or for the mystifying enchantress that she possibly could be.

Leave it to one of the oldest working writer/directors (or people working in show business, for that matter) to evoke flirt and spark so naturally captured on camera that it evokes the timeless cinematic romances of a Bogart and Hepburn. Firth's pompous parading of his 'bountiful' intelligence plays strong and firm, which makes for rewarding moments for Stone as Sophie's spot-on visions and visionary self to continue to stupefy his rational sensibilities. The cat and mouse effort strings the film along in innocent fashion, and although Firth serves admirably here, it is Stone, like that most-talented lead in a high school play, who we can't help gushing over every step of the way.

The cat and mouse effort strings the film along in innocent fashion, and although Firth serves admirably here, it is Stone, like that most-talented lead in a high school play, who we can't help gushing over every step of the way.

In what makes for an incredible forty-ninth (!) feature film, the writer/director's latest love affair is intoxicating in so many ways. Though even with its whip-smart story and dialogue, it will probably end up finding its place mentioned among other just-s0 warmly received Allen films. It's not that it's a poor film- even the least dialed-in original effort from the cynically-comforted comedian still offers rich returns of cinema- it's just that after all the provided amusement, it still leaves this audience a little too sober to deem it a sweeping achievement. Where this reviewer would argue that 2011 saw his last great punch-drunk knockout hit (With kudos to a career-best Cate Blanchett in last year's Oscar-winning Blue Jasmine) with the fully realized Midnight in Paris, this one trolleys along just so-so, providing nostalgically warm-hearted intention in earnest and measured form.

If Magic in the Moonlight falls short of being a more stirring type of movie, it's not for its lack of philosophically-pointed rhapsodizing, clearly voicing some of the director's most trademark sentiments in spritely fashion. And although Firth's relentless upending of his fellow man's talking-to's of simple joys to achieve simple happiness, whether through magic tricks or the belief of communicating with loved ones from "the beyond," may seem very familiar when compared to the director's past films, this story surprises by going one step further, in what reminded me of the final scene and line from Manhattan. Stanley wades ever deeper into the unknown, despite his own principles and self-discipline, to perhaps believe that Sophie and her gifts might just be proof that life is something more: that life is something grander, more limitless, and truly, magical. And while the promise of an enchanted world might not end up self-fulfilling (might, not), Allen reveals that even he knows that magic, and non-explanation exists, if only in the very real, overcoming feeling that is felt when merely seeing a lover's smile. For this, it seems that the magician has pulled off his greatest trick: to "have a little more faith in people."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LAwbwKURvm0

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Boyhood'

Although movies and films have chronicled life and its oft-times messy process of growing up and maturing, never before has one been done like this. Richard Linklater, already an accomplished director with culture-defining films such as Dazed and Confused, offers a new film that sees a young Texas boy, along with his fragmented yet loving family, quite simply, live their lives, all chronicled in a sweeping twelve year shoot that sees its core cast grow up right before your eyes.

Though the name Ellar Coltrane probably doesn't ring any bells, even with ardent cinematic fans, he will definitely be remembered hereafter for this starring lead effort, here playing Mason, who's point of view we follow from his early adolescent, all the way through his young adult life. We see a young Mason experience all that youth living offers: from playing outdoors, having to survive embarrassing school moments as new haircut, along with the heavier, more emotionally driving key life moments, such as all that goes with living between houses with divorced parents, with Patricia Arquette as his Mom, and Linklater favorite Ethan Hawke as his Dad (Linklater's real-life daughter, Lorelei Linklater, also stars in the film as Mason's sister Samantha), who also are seen aging along with Coltrane. The magic in the film is seeing life, in all of its simple, fun, heartbreaking, and  tragic moments, depicted in a lovingly crafted and expansive story.

The experience of watching a scene with young Mason, ending, and cutting to the next scene featuring the actor, having aged in more than a full year's time, is incredible to behold.

Boyhood stands as a remarkable film, and not because of any specialized story. In fact, there are no over-arching themes or messages that would more likely be written into a fiction film. And this is because of what makes the film so magical, so transporting. It simply captures fragments, scenes, and instances, of simple family life. The experience of watching a scene with young Mason, ending, and cutting to the next scene featuring the actor, having aged in more than a full year's time, is incredible to behold. It is purely captivating, all because it is so real, and universal.

The movie, from a filmmaking and technical point of view, should be acknowledged for how the story was so effortlessly told. Again, the movie isn't about any one thing, save for this boy and his family itself, but rather, shows all of life unfolding. Surprisingly, or perhaps understandably, the movie doesn't intend to feature glamorous or self-serving scenes, and the experience is all the better for it. The mundane-ness of it all grows to fascinating levels, all because of its universality and we can relate exactly to it.

For an independent film, Boyhood's ambition is astounding. Though for independent veteran Linklater, the show is pulled together in a truly brilliant effort. Never before has honest, authentic filmmaking been more present, more alive, or spoken to growing up and the human condition than in Boyhood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0oX0xiwOv8

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Venus In Fur'

Roman Polanski adapts his second consecutive stage play, after 2011's Carnage, with Venus In Fur. With roots in theater, Polanski takes to staging another play, unfolding in real time. At a ninety-six minute run time, Polanski directs only two actors here, the accomplished and talented Emmanuelle Seigner as Vanda and Mathieu Amalric as Thomas, and the experience is nothing short of rewarding, funny, and socially poignant.

The takeaway here, and if you're familiar with the original text, stage play, or Greek goddess Venus herself, then you already know, is one that comments on the female role in today's society. Amalric plays Thomas, a theater director whos first appearance conveys an artistic angst and frustration that all of the auditioning female actors could not properly play the character Wanda, a nineteenth-century aristocrat who becomes a dominator to a high-society gentlemen with certain, emotional and physical satisfactions to fulfill. Thomas, at first entirely put back by Vanda's late arrival, and boozy yet charming first impression, agrees to let her audition, taking to finally read scenes with her.

The chemistry is effortless, and fulfilling, and for a movie like this, that is exactly what is required.

To deliver a good film, and not even that- but even a watchable one, with the limitation (or opportunity) of shooting only two actors for the entire duration, would seem a difficult task to accomplish. Yet it is Polanski's directorial skill in capturing captivating, alive performances, and from equally skilled performers. Mathieu as Thomas is wonderful to watch, breathing tortured, specific energy into his angstful artist, showing the character's relation to the sexually perverse socialite character yet ultimately making him relatable, and human. And Seigner delivers one of her finest performances, turning from the comically disheveled, rain-soaked actor, and to the sophisticated and aware performer Wanda, with measured composure in each part. The chemistry is effortless, and fulfilling, and for a movie like this, that is exactly what is required.

The inter-twining story lines, from when Thomas and Wanda talk about their modern situation, to the performing of the characters in the stage play, is invigorating to watch. The entire story, while light and in motion, feels like a constantly fluid experience, and is enjoying and fun to watch. Each new scene, divulging of information, that eerily parallels the play itself, builds upon the last in well-earned heightening and tension. It is provocative, intelligent, and culturally commentating (to the source material's credit).

Venus in Fur gives the ready viewer a sexy and funny experience, in intelligently written and performed vision. The staging lends itself to a more quick-moving and swiftly maneuvered play, giving the film a certain lightness. But the film achieves a solid adaptation and makes the viewer experience a fresh message of the strength in female's role in society and culture.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1LZ6JoUkJc&feature=kp

by Ryan Rojas

Review: 'Under the Electric Sky'

Although it might be pretty obvious to say at this point, EDM (Electronic Dance Music) has infiltrated into and taken a commanding place in the pop culture landscape. And how could it not? What with its bouncy beats and larger-than-life theatricality of its live music experience, wrapped up in YOLO-minded philosophy, the music scene has become the place to reach the masses of the young (or the young at heart). And nowhere is that experience more perfectly captured than in the music scene's most celebrated music festival, Electronic Daisy Carnival, or EDC for short. The festival, now held in Las Vegas, stands as the largest musical festival in the world with 345,000 people making the yearly pilgrimage to their music's mecca. In a movie that attempts to substantiate the festival's most positive of emotional experiences chronicling life, love, and community, we get the sometimes-in-3-D documentary, from Focus Features, Under the Electric Sky.

Under the Electric Sky is a construction of all of the positives about rave culture, largely, of how it appeals to and invites all peoples: the social outcasts, rejects, and weirdos, and allows them a place to "be themselves" (all decked out in and sharing beaded bracelets and necklaces referred to as "candy"). With these sentiments, this movie functions as half music-concert, half human interest piece, revealing the somewhat normal types of people who attend the festival.

Electric Sky follows five stories of fans, each attending the festival to fulfill their own personal wishes. Sadie, a small-town Texas student who suffers from bullying and chronic anxiety (who also brings her Grandfather's ashes to scatter during a song of one of her favorite DJ's), a frat-pack of Massachusetts guy friends who RV in memory of their fallen friend, long distance lovers and young professionals who's six month separation will be broken at the festival, six friends in an open relationship (rave family), a pair of veteran ravers who fell in love at EDC 15 years ago, and a wheelchair-bound youth who feels free when hearing the unbound energetic music, are our movie's central focus, and are see celebrating as one, under the same "electric" sky.

If you don't have a political problem with realizing that at the end of the day you're just watching our entire consumer culture sweating it out to bass blaring pop music in the desert, and in fact, if you find the subject curious, or just want to see what exactly the music and festival means to these people, then this movie will provide you with that experience.

Our movie's subjects certainly provide an eclectic mix of people for us to watch and to understand what the experience means to them. The fascinating thing about all subjects' motivations are that they believe, in their heart of hearts, that the scene allows for true freedom, the kind that breaks free from typical society convention. What we then get are a mixture of all types of people- the socially awkward types, along with the MD's in training. EDM provides the truest and most cathartic release for these people to leave not only the bureaucratic "real world," but the physical limitation of their mind's perceiving reality. If you don't have a political problem with realizing that at the end of the day you're just watching our entire consumer culture sweating it out to bass blaring pop music in the desert, and in fact, if you find the subject curious, or just want to see what exactly the music and festival means to these people, then this movie will provide you with that experience.

And it's not hard to see the appeal of it all- EDC, the brainchild and creation of Insomniac's Pasquale Rotella, is seen as a modern day P.T. Barnum, directing performance artists, massive art installations, epic firework displays, and a reverberating sound system, across the sprawling festival grounds in the final days before the weekend fest. This wonderland is captured in stunning and incredible measure, with cameras capturing the most unbelievable of sights from the grounds level, as well as in somewhat impressive 3-D when craning and sweeping over the massive crowds during the movie's standalone live musical numbers (credit to filmmakers Dan Cutforth and Jane Lipsitz (Katy Perry: Part of Me). These musical moments, as well as the montage-heavy sequences, feel quite cinematic, yet balanced with the human interest stories, the whole thing feels a little too undefined an experience. The film splits very neatly down the middle, alternating between following and cutting between these people's trips and focusing on the live music as well, featuring the fest's biggest names, including Armin Van Buuren, Tiesto, and Above & Beyond.

And in what might be the film's most limiting factor, or most carefully side-stepped aside, it takes thirty minutes to finally touch on the scene's most popular fixture- the drugs. We quickly side bar into seeing some behind the scenes footage of medical assistants patrolling the grounds as well as aiding ailing festival-goers, showing their "no-tolerance" allowance for ingested substances such as the crowd favorites, ecstasy and "Molly." The film, and its spokespeople, very emphatically stress how they oppose the drug-taking that occurs here, and how the drugs are not responsible for people feeling "overwhelming love," towards each other. And with only a PG-13 rating and the fact that this isn't a news journalistically-exposing documentary, audiences will be deprived of the more graphic moments that actually are witnessed at EDC.

Under the Electric Sky ultimately proves to accomplish what it sets out to. Even if it acts as more of a PR piece that inflates the emotional reasons for attending the communal event rather than showing its much darker underbelly, electronic music and the spectacle that is EDC, are still this culture's most widely celebrated music and past-time. This dual experience, of celebrating the pure, artistic and creative expression of this new music, alongside its destructively superficial, money-capitalizing and destructive qualities, makes the music scene a divided one at best. Yet for EDM's truest and most devout disciples, this movie should validate their vices. For the rest of us, however, the film might not have as deep or heartfelt a connection as its high-on-life, or just plain high, festival-goers.

http://youtu.be/icDEYGe7o4U

by Ryan Rojas

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