6 Films I Hadn't Seen Before the 2021 TCM Classic Film Festival
The TCM Classic Film Festival 2021 is one of the most cherished times of the year for cinephiles–myself included. Once again being held virtually (but with plans to return to Hollywood in 2022), the festival expanded its reach this year by including films on HBO Max (which I hope attracted new audiences).
I couldn't have been more thrilled, as there were a number of classic movies that I had not seen, and that I finally committed to watching as part of the festival which I listed below. A big thank you to TCM Classic Film Festival 2021. And in case you want to catch up as well, the films are all still available to watch on HBO Max for a limited time.
The Thin Man (1934)
I didn't know that The Thin Man was the first film in a series of "Thin Man" movies. But after watching this first one, I can say that I am looking forward to seeing the rest. I was ready for a mystery of a film (which the plot does center around), but was totally enamored with the real magic of the film, which is all of the comedy that comes from the relationship between married couple Nick (William Powell) and Nora Charles (Myrna Loy). The hook in every movie is that, when a mystery is afoot, Nick–a retired detective–is drawn in to the case, but it's his wife Nora who gets him to take the case, and stays his faithful and sharp-minded partner along the way. Beyond all of the laughs The Thin Man earns, I loved seeing how these characters were written and performed with such admirable integrity and equal-footing. Sign me up for the next one.
Top Hat (1935)
It was an easy choice to decide to queue up Top Hat, as watching Fred Astaire dance in a top hat and tuxedo as a kid is one of the very reasons that I fell in love with movies. Like many who love the iconic song and dance man, I was absolutely spellbound when I first saw Fred Astaire dance, through the screen and into my heart. I very likely might have even seen this movie as a child, but it's been so long that watching it felt like the first time, with a smile across my face the whole time. Top Hat has something of a silly story, but Fred Astaire humble charm is irresistible, and he keeps the film feeling effortless and fun. And the film's dance sequences–done with screen legend Ginger Rodgers–make Top Hat cinematic gold.
Bringing Up Baby (1938)
One of the most enjoyable parts of this year's TCM Classic Film Festival 2021 was the curated selections of Howard Hawks' films, which I hadn't seen before. I'd known of the screwball comedy genre at large, and had definitely seen references of its use in other films (rapid-fire dialogue and escalating mayhem). But seeing these films from Howard Hawks, who set the template and created the language for the genre that others have gone on to attempt to imitate, was a true treasure. I was over the moon to watch Bringing Up Baby, a perfectly executed romantic comedy that elevates the genre into a whole other level of sophistication. Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn are movie magic together (I'm still laughing at Grant's exhausted shouting of "Just a minute, Mr. Peabody!"). Beyond this, the decision to add a leopard into the mix just makes the whole thing one of the very best.
His Girl Friday (1940)
Doubling up with another Howard Hawks film, I must say, I wasn't expecting what I got with His Girl Friday. Where Bringing Up Baby set me up to think that Hawks' films would all be polished slapstick comedies (and inclined on silly romantic comedy plots), His Girl Friday surprised and delighted me to see an even more accomplished film, with more sophisticated direction and a smarter and more serious story that makes the film timeless. The thornier and more acidic comedy between a once-married newspaper publisher (Cary Grant) and a rapacious reporter (Rosalind Russell) gives the film wonderful friction, and the story's centering around a convicted murderer and their efforts of trying to get the scoop led to His Girl Friday being the most enjoyable surprise of the festival.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
Here's where I start to get embarrassed over admitting which modern masterpieces I hadn't seen prior to TCM Classic Film Festival 2021. The fact that I had not seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (one of only three films to win all 5 of the major categories in its Oscars year) is, I'll admit, one of the worst oversights in my movie-watching journey to date.
After watching the film, it's clear to me why Jack Nicholson is one of cinema's most important figures. His brand is "Jack," a manic live-wire who doesn't disappear into his characters so much as he brings them to life through the bravado of his own persona, which makes his performance here as R.P. McMurphy so one-of-a-kind. It's the supporting cast who surround Jack that makes the film what it is, with supporting performances from Danny DeVito that give the film its magic ingredients. And while I was expecting the Nurse Ratched character (Louise Fletcher) to be something of a more obviously villainous role, the understated control and precision she employs makes for a performance that will stand the test of time.
All The President's Men (1976)
It was here at TCM Classic Film Festival 2021 that I finally watched All The President's Men, which was too long to have lived without having seen it. While the thriller films of today use things that they know will work to create suspense and tension, this film has all of those things, and it's about newspaper men. I was hooked from the start, and along for every minute of this film, which says a lot for how much peripherally I knew about the film.
The photography from Gordon Willis here is exquisite (it's great to finally see the split-diopter camera shots in context!). The production design of the newsroom, sounds of phones ringing and typewriter keys clacking, and detailed insert shots of note-taking and printed materials, all comes together to make an unforgettable world. Redford and Hoffman are both rock solid here, but I was taken in by Jason Robard's performance of The Washington Posts' newspaper publisher(for which he won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for).
'Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street' Review: What the TV Taught
Big Bird, Bert & Ernie, Kermit the Frog and Cookie Monster are as timeless today as they were when they debuted on "Sesame Street" in 1969. But what I didn't know about these lovable muppets was the incredible story behind the seminal children's TV show's creation, which the new documentary Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street reveals. The road that was taken by television producers and educators to create this one-of-a-kind children's program was radical, as they set out to create an education show that would answer: what if a show loved kids instead of sold to them? Could TV help kids? Could it be used to teach?
This became "Sesame Street," which changed the culture and has been cherished by children still to this day. Whether you do or don't know much about the show, Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street (based on the New York Times Bestselling Novel) should be required watching to see how art and altruism can go together to change the world for the better.
Expression
Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street is a feel-good film and was such a joy to watch, capturing the pure spirit that "Sesame Street" was created with. A smile hit my face the moment I saw Frank Oz and Jim Henson bring Bert and Ernie to life through their shared improvisational puppeteering (I forgot that "Yoda" also voiced Bert, Grover and Cookie Monster!). Seeing the late Caroll Spinney (who was interviewed for the film before his passing) recount playing the eight foot tall Big Bird as well as Oscar the Grouch is also fascinating to watch people acting on their pure imagination and creative artistry, all to connect to children who had never been communicated to before.
Beyond the amazing puppeteering, the documentary also captures the era in which the show was created, as well as New York's turbulent late-sixties' soul and spirit. Street Gang shows how America was a time of social inequality and civil unrest, and these stirring pictures and footage makes the story of "Sesame Street"'s creation even more affecting.
Expression: 4 out of 5 stars
Daring
At 1 hour and 47 minutes, Street Gang makes much of highlighting the radical reason of why the show was created: as a way to help teach basic education skills such as reading and counting to impoverished inner-city Black and minority children at a time when nothing like it had been done. It was a daring notion, and the doc introduces the main people behind the show's development such as Joan Cooney. The female television producer who was responsible for putting the show on the air, Cooney shares how she worked with the Federal Government's Office of Education to create the "Children's TV Workshop," a group of educators and TV producers that would create an entirely new style of children's educational show.
The biggest debt that Street Gang wishes to pay here is to Jon Stone, who we learn was the visionary and central force for what "Sesame Street" the show would become. Motivated by the disillusionment that the Vietnam War placed on the country, as well as a disgusted response to overt consumerism in children's TV shows, Stone was not only responsible for pioneering "Sesame Street"'s mix of education and entertainment, but for its daring decision to set the show in a gritty New York street environment (versus a fantasyland or suburban setting which was more popular), with the intent to relate to the Black and minority kids that they wished to connect with.
While Street Gang celebrates the radical spirit of "Sesame Street"'s creators, as well as how it broke socio-economic and political barriers with its proudly multi-racial cast, the documentary itself is more conventionally made and restrained. Rather than choosing to be more daring and an even-sharper critique of present day American education, Street Gang is ultimately more of a celebration than a "call to action."
Daring: 3 out of 5 stars
Craft
However, it's a smart decision that Street Gang plays more conventionally and that it chooses not to use any more obvious filmmaking flourishes beyond its use of single interviews and behind-the-scenes footage, which would likely be distracting to the incredible stories and genius in the footage that's already on the screen. The footage itself–grainy, weathered and worn–is a treasure to behold, and present-day interviews in which former cast members and creators talk about the show brings further magic to the stories. Rather than attempt to add additionally clever and artistically inventive media into the mix, Street Gang opts to impress by way of being more polished in its straightforward filmmaking approach, and a wider emotional range is felt because of it.
Craft: 3 out of 5 stars
Impact
There were multiple moments throughout Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street in which I was emotionally affected. Whether it was me genuinely laughing over brilliant puppeteering skits (at one point in time in entertainment, the only two shows on air that had comedy writers were "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson" and "Sesame Street"), or politically enlightened, or emotionally moved, the doc spans a wide emotional range. Seeing then-musical composer Joe Raposo–who wrote the show's original songs and music–reminisce over writing Kermit's famous ballad "It's Not Easy Being Green," or seeing special guest star Jesse Jackson get a huge set full of kids to chant "I am somebody, I can change the world" made my eyes water. Beyond its bold artistic achievements, Street Gang also serves as a love letter and reminder to artists and educators everywhere, that with fearless creativity and a good heart, you can create something that can change the world.
Impact: 5 out of 5 stars
Conclusion
Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street is a fascinating and inspiring document of the story of how a fearless and good-willed group of creative artists and innovator taught disadvantaged kids that they could be something they never dreamed they could be. If you decide to re-visit Big Bird, Bert & Ernie, and the rest of the muppet gang, you'll remember what can be achieved when people's voices are heard–even if it's underneath multi-colored felt.
Conclusion: 4 out of 5 stars
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQDydUQQNCA&ab_channel=ScreenMediaFilms
Rooftop Cinema Club Brings Outdoor Screenings to El Segundo In May
While the COVID pandemic has disrupted our lives and wrecked havoc across the world this past year, it's uplifting to start seeing parts of the world open up once again, with California also being the state with the lowest COVID-affected numbers in the whole country.
The news of re-opening is especially thrilling for Los Angeles movie-lovers, who, after more than a year of streaming movies from their living rooms, are once again able to start experiencing films the way they were meant to be watched: on the big screen.
While many are still processing the sad news of the Arclight Cinemas and Pacific Theaters' closures (including myself), South Bay movie-lovers have a new reason to celebrate, as Rooftop Cinema Club is bringing their outdoor movie screening series to El Segundo for the month of May.
Starting tonight, May 6th and running through the end of May, LA and South Bay movie-lovers (ages 18+) will be able to experience the "ultimate outdoor air experience" with an amazing offering of popular, classic and cult films projected on a rooftop setting while being provided personal headphones and deck chairs (you'll need to bring your own cozy blankets, which is highly recommended for any rooftop breeze).
Typically held in downtown Los Angeles (along with other major cities like New York, Houston, San Diego and even London), Rooftop Cinema Club is moving their residence to El Segundo's Smoky Hollows District this month, and South Bay movie-lovers should be thrilled to hear it.
As a spokesperson for Rooftop Cinema Club said about the decision to move the Los Angeles location to El Segundo: "We’ve been closely monitoring safety guidelines in Los Angeles with the ultimate goal of reopening our Rooftops safely and with the same experience our guests have come to know and love. This new venue in El Segundo allowed us to do just that - reopen with safety and social distancing top of mind without jeopardizing the Rooftop experience we’ve built over the years. We plan to reopen our DTLA and Hollywood locations when it’s safe to do so."
With the lineup of amazing movies, you won't be able to go wrong with any film you wish to see in this rooftop setting. Maybe you want to head to tonight's films and catch Selena or Dazed and Confused? Or just think about watching La La Land under the actual Los Angeles stars. The offerings range even further, from family films like The Goonies to The Princess Bride, hood films from Friday to Boyz N The Hood, and comedies from Anchorman to Superbad (El Segundo locals may want to check out the latter to catch the city's many famed high school shots). The list goes on with classic, horror and even more special-event films to see.
Of course, maintaining safety is the most important part of being able to hold these social screenings. As Rooftop Cinema Club says: "Our number one priority is our guests’ and team’s safety and wellbeing, which is why we have adapted our operations on the Rooftop." Be sure to review the new safety measures and rules for guests before booking a screening at rftp.cc/rooftopsafety and check out the on-site precautions to expect:
- We are opening at a limited capacity, and all ticket purchases must be made online prior to the screening.
- Sanitization solutions will be available around the venue, and team members will wear masks, routinely change gloves and regularly wipe down surfaces.
- We will enforce masks and social distancing in the cinema and bar areas.
- Headphones will be thoroughly sanitized after each use.
- We will not be offering our usual pillows and blankets, but guests are encouraged to bring their own. After all, it’s not really a Rooftop without a cool, refreshing breeze!
If you decide to experience any of these truly unique social cinema events (and I'm hoping that you do), be sure to arrive early to enjoy delicious food from The Urban Oven, as well as a drink (full bar complete with craft cocktails, beer and wine) at sunset with the mountains as your backdrop. Select your socially distanced seats and snack on classic cinema concessions like popcorn and candy with contactless order and pickup. When the movie starts, you'll be able to live completely in those movie moments with state-of-the-art wireless headphones (sanitized thoroughly after each use) and an amazing view of the big screen.
The venue will be located in the parking structure at 1310 E Franklin Ave. Tickets are offered for two different types of deckchairs – a single Lounge Seat for one or a double-width Love Seat for two (and Student Discount tickets are offered at 10% off). And the screenings go ahead come rain or shine.
Rooftop Cinema Club (whose tagline is Love, Peace and Great Film) believes that all experiences should be memorable, which is why they are on a mission to transform nights at the movies in to cinematic events like no other. "You bring your friends and loved ones, and we'll bring you city skylines, sunsets, starlit evenings, awesome drinks, delicious food, and great movies on the big screen." Rooftop Cinema Club is also currently running a drive-in theater experience at the Santa Monica Airport through May 31st.
As Rooftop Cinema Club told us, "Going to the cinema provides a sense of escapism we can’t get at home. There’s nothing like watching a film on the big screen surrounded by like-minded moviegoers and friends. As we slowly enter life post-pandemic, we’re adapting our operations to make guests feel comfortable and excited about a night out at the movies again. We’re seeing other cinemas do the same and the entire industry has stepped up to support one another. Our entire drive-in model was built with that in mind - to give communities a safe escape through the power of film. "
So come on out to Rooftop Cinema Club El Segundo and support this unique big screen experience, make some new memories, and remember why social cinema events like this are so meaningful and should be celebrated and saved as we return to our post-pandemic lives.
For all screenings and more information visit https://rooftopcinemaclub.com/. For tickets to El Segundo's outdoor screenings visit https://rooftopcinemaclub.com/los-angeles/venue/el-segundo/.
The 9 Best Moments From the 'Mainstream' Trailer
Influencer life becomes a social media circus in the new Mainstream trailer from director Gia Coppola. Starring Andrew Garfield as a wannabe social media celebrity, Mainstream sees his rise from nobody into "No One Special," the next big social media sensation whose antics may have consequences for his former friends (Maya Hawke and Nat Wolff).
Mainstream looks to be a very of-the-moment movie that aims to satirize "influencer culture" and its negative consequences of destroying very real human relationships in the making.
We had to share our favorite moments from the insane trailer, which has us pumped to see the film. Check out the trailer and our favorite moments before Mainstream opens in select theaters, on digital platforms and VOD on May 7th.
1. Andrew Garfield, Insane Influencer
Garfield is so good at being a douchebag bro here that you might forget he's British. #thispineapplelife
2. Emoji-Filled Madness
We can't wait to see the clever ways in which Gia Coppola will infuse emojis into the real-world moments of the movie. We're all living between something of a dream and reality as it is already.
3. Having His "Social Network" Moment
Hearing Garfield say, "We're going stratospheric" with that worlds-conquering intensity makes us think he's very much enjoying the opportunity to finally be on the other side of internet domination this time. Suck on that, Zuckerberg.
4. A Whole Lot of Hoverboarding
Seeing Garfield glide on this hoverboard is making us think of how many different paparazzi and red carpet moments the actor has deprived us from.
5. Johnny Knoxville Acting, Jake Paul Not So Much
We're here for Johnny Knoxville channeling his acting skills into playing a talent manager. Less believable will be Jake Paul attempting to play "himself."
6. This moment
Garfield was clearly waiting his whole life to channel this rock god moment.
7. THIS MOMENT
Seriously, how many movies have we been deprived of not seeing Garfield channel his inner-freak?
8. Emoji-Overdosing
Emojis coming out of every orifice.
9. Whatever Evil Andrew Garfield is Thinking Here
Unleash your inner glam demon at will, sir.
Check out the full 'Mainstream' trailer on YouTube.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rlpm36Vi-3U&ab_channel=IFCFilms
'This Is How You Make a Movie' Pairs Film Techniques With Popular Films
Chances are that if you love movies as much as I do, This Is How You Make a Movie will be a worthy addition to your film book collection.
While most of us have a favorite genre and/or filmmaker, we might not even be aware of why we feel a certain way towards these particular films, even our favorites.
And yet all of the decisions that go into a film – not just those from directors, but from the actors, editors, and entire filmmaking team – are right there on the screen, just waiting to be decoded by viewers.
The best films in cinema use a multitude of filmmaking techniques that highlight the subtextual elements of their stories, which add even deeper meaning than the words or images could do alone.
For example: how does the opening slow pan in Peter Bogdanovich’s The Last Picture Show perfectly introduce us to the world of the film’s rural and sleepy suburban town?
How does director Steve McQueen use the rule of thirds to highlight electricity between the characters in Shame?
And why does Andrea Arnold’s decision to use a 4:3 aspect ratio in American Honey make sense to emphasize the individuals in the film?
If these kinds of questions interest you, then keep reading, as I got my hands on a newly published book titled This Is How You Make a Movie, which explains the terms, processes, and techniques seen in classic and contemporary films, to help you watch and understand films better.
The Design (The Outside)
If you’re anything like me, you might own 5, 10, or even more books on film. Most that you’ve read, some that you’ve lightly read, and a few that you haven’t really committed to at all.
They all either explain the general history of film or how to make a movie in more production-focused terms. So what makes this book different than the rest?
Two things: For one, it’s beautifully designed. And second, it's such a succinct book, which focuses on breaking down filmmaking terms like a dictionary would, and provides examples from films to illustrate those points.
It has a coffee table design and a hardcover treatment. Coffee table books need to be visually appealing since most of their life is being prominently displayed while closed.
Its publisher, Laurence King (based out of London), is in the business of making beautiful-looking books and gifts on film and art, which applies to this book as well.
This isn’t a dog-eared, paperback textbook you might still have kept from college. It's a simple, intelligently designed book, and is meant to be displayed on a table or anywhere in your home.
Its two-tone color-pairing makes for a wonderful harmony. And its sans-serif fonts are smartly chosen, giving a modern touch.
And finally, its size and weight are accessible. You can pick it up and put it down, reading a few sections at a time, all at your leisure.
The Content (The Inside)
As I mentioned before, this isn’t a chronological step-by-step guide for how to make a movie. This is great because all of the books that do that are also limited by the technology that they advise you to use (which sort of video camera, and the editing software that’s already outdated).
This is How You Make a Movie is more or less an encyclopedic look at the techniques and terms that are used in the best films, which the book’s author, Tim Grierson, succinctly and elegantly breaks down.
The book includes 5 sections:
- Acting
- Directing
- Lighting & Camera
- Editing
- Writing
Within these sections are further sub-sections. So in acting, we get breakdowns of "method acting" – popularized by Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire – through improvisation, seen in Knocked Up and Girls Trip.
And again, these are simply, succinctly written. 1 or 2 paragraphs with negative space to hammer the approachable design home. So you truly can take this book in sections at a time.
Classic films from City Lights, The Godfather, Star Wars, and The Shining, to more contemporary works like Moonlight, Good Time, We Need to Talk About Kevin, and Deadpool.
Directors like Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Hitchcock, and Charlie Chaplin are also nested alongside the more diverse filmmakers of today, such as Barry Jenkins, Andrea Arnold, Kathryn Bigelow, and the Dardenne Brothers.
My favorite section of the book (which I didn’t know before reading) was in the Lighting & Camera section, which discussed “Chiaroscuro." Chiaroscuro, as I learned, is a lighting technique in which the protagonist is prominently in focus against a fuzzy background fuzzy (or, with a shallow depth of field).
Lighting can enhance this even further, which Gordon Willis did in The Godfather’s "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse" scene. The effect goes back to Caravaggio and Rembrandt, and how those masters introduced this technique in their paintings.
I didn’t know this before reading this book, and now I get to make that observation the next time I'm watching The Godfather with my family and friends.
But really, reading This Is How You Make a Movie does make me appreciate my favorite films and the artistry in them even more, which is what it will do for you.
So, are you going to pick up a copy of this book for yourself, a family member, or a friend? It's the perfect way to learn more about why you love your favorite film, by better understanding the techniques that went into the technique (or vice-versa).
A beautifully designed, succinct, and smartly written book will always have a place in my film book collection, as it should in yours too.
You can order This Is How To Make a Movie now here at Laurence King's website.
'In the Earth' Is a Hallucinatory Pandemic-Era Horror
It was fitting that Ben Wheatley's new movie In the Earth–a horror film set during a deadly virus outbreak–premiered at this year's Sundance Film Festival, as the fest itself was virtually-held while our own world moved through the very real Coronavirus pandemic. In the Earth, which comes out this Friday, even has the credit of being the first feature film to start and complete production during last year's quarantine (while adhering to the UK's strict social distancing guidelines).
In this regard, it's fascinating to see the final result of the film, which uses its own production limitations to tell a story of a similarly scaled-down size: that of a scientist (Joel Fry) who teams up with a park scout (Ellora Torchia) to head into to the woods to procure equipment to find a cure for a deadly virus. Of course, what the find instead is that they are not alone, and that horrors beyond what they can imagine lie waiting for them.
Personal Expression
Director Ben Wheatley has balanced between making artistically independent and commercially-contrived films throughout his career. 2016's artfully absurd High-Rise delivered a totally unique cinematic vision of its source novel, yet is pretty inaccessible to most audiences, and undeniably strange. On the other hand, his most recent film outing, Netflix's remake of Rebecca, was a painfully conventional and disappointing exercise.
Read our review of 'High-Rise' here.
While In the Earth does hit the expected conventions one would expect and hope for in a horror movie, Wheatley's creative and assured directorial vision remains in display here, and perhaps thanks to the film's micro-budget scale. The film feels more personal and intimate, and we're able to develop a closer connection to the actors, which all pays off when the film moves into its second act and tip-toes into the nightmarishly absurd.
Personal Expression: 3 out of 5 stars
Daring
There are a few elements at work in In the Earth that make this a totally daring film. For one, the film mixes a few different sub-genres of horror: that of a slasher hunting in the woods, mythical folklore evil, and then surprisingly with its ecologically supernatural horrors. It's an ambitious undertaking to evolve to such an unexpected other-worldly enemy, as well as to do so with such daring vision, as the film climaxes into a strobe-filled psychedelic freak-out.
And then of course, the larger real-world fact that the film was shot during quarantine of a very-real pandemic is perhaps the most daring aspect of all, which speaks to the filmmakers' dedication to independent filmmaking.
Daring: 3 out of 5 stars
Craft
With its limited scale, In the Earth has a noticeably restrained vision (which at first, gives the film a Blair Witch-style of familiarity). However, the film does know how to stretch their production and dollar in the right ways, such as with the scenes of gruesome axe-related special effects work, and sequences that show more literal depictions of the folklore evil that's hinted at early on. However, it's when the real reveal happens halfway through and when hallucinatory, oscillating trips occur, that the film shows its true visual ambitions, making for an even greater movie and horror experience.
Craft: 3 out of 5 stars
Impact
In the Earth has stuck with me since I first saw its premiere back in January, and likely for a few reasons: the climactic light and color rave-like sequences still stick in my head. I'll also remember the movie for being one that was made about a pandemic, during a pandemic. But I think the biggest impact comes when it chooses to reveal its ecologically-conscious enemy at play. Without looking to reveal the twist, it made me think of M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening (in a good way), and still makes me think about how we relate to our natural surroundings.
Impact: 4 out of 5 stars
Conclusion
In the Earth is a very welcomed treat for this year, as the world continues to vaccinate and as we slowly move out of this pandemic, back into the real world. It's wild to see a film that's not only about a pandemic, but one that was made during one as well. And to also watch a movie with such a surprising, daring and experimental vision–along with its poignant thoughts on how we relate to the environment–In the Earth is the best horror of the year so far, and an appreciated warning of what dangers lie in the woods if we don't remain careful.
Conclusion: 3.25 out of 5 stars
100 min. 'In the Earth' opens in theaters and starts streaming this Friday.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Lqkfo7IymU&ab_channel=NEON
'Shiva Baby' Review: Fans of 'Fleabag,' This Film's For You
In Judaism, "sitting shiva" is the week-long mourning period that is observed following the passing of a first-degree relative. In Shiva Baby, a millennial undergrad feels the same sort of deep mourning, albeit over the current state of her young life. When Danielle (Rachel Sennott) returns home from NYU to attend a funeral, she knows that she's also entering the lion's den of an overbearing family. The equal parts eager and concerned "How are you?" triggers her anxieties of her uncertain future.
Danielle easily soothes family members expectations with talks of post-grad ambitions (either business or law school). In reality, she's concealing the fact that she's academically middling and currently involved with a sugar daddy in the big city. It's not until the arrival of an unexpected guest that Danielle's shakily constructed life starts to crack. It all sets the stage for an event where everything is set to come out.
Personal Expression
Shiva Baby is such a refreshing and enjoyable new comedy due to how totally authentic the characters and situations all feel. It's not altogether surprising, given that the film is based on the experiences and observations from writer and director Emma Seligman's own life, here making her directorial debut. Seligman's shrewd observations of the Jewish culture along with a new millennial identity make for a wonderfully cringe-worthy but very real culture clash. From the specificity of detail in the shiva setting and the hilarious characters who attend it, down to its stark portrayal of young people owning their newfound sexualities, Shiva Baby is the type of equal-parts defiant and personal filmmaking that make for the best kind of directorial debuts.
Daring
While set to a fairly conventional narrative structure (that of a person returning to the home they once left and by doing so, are forced to confront their true selves), Shiva Baby merely uses this foundation to then make daring leaps from. Danielle (played note-perfect by newcomer Rachel Sennott) brings a new young woman character (made popular by Lena Dunham's Girls and Phoebe Waller-Bridges' Fleabag) to the big screen, who, for all of her flaws and poor decision-making, remains unapologetically herself. By her casually decided choices of engaging with a sugar daddy as well as exploration of bi-sexual attractions, Danielle subverts every expectation that both her age and gender are typically met with. In doing so, Shiva Baby shows a very real and untraditional character of female empowerment.
Craft
Shiva Baby smartly uses its single setting location to bring many elements of filmmaking together to control its tone–that being a cringe-worthy one every truth that Danielle skirts only raise the stakes to becoming a pressure cooker of discomfort (halfway through the film when she bursts out of the house to get air, we are desperately grateful for it as well).
This hilarious suffocating experience n is controlled by the entire filmmaking team: Hanna A. Park's measured and then energetic editing controls each new wave of discomfort wonderfully. Maria Rusche's cinematography captures the jam-packed nature of this house (building to a near-hallucinatory climax that reminded me of Rosemary's Baby). And of singular note, composer Ariel Marx's score is quite actually the thing that stands out that gives Shiva Baby its anxiety-inducing identity, an off-beat tension that reminded me of Jonny Greenwood's score for Punch Drunk Love. All elements swirl to make for a cringe-worthy setting, which is pretty rad to see this all-female unit.
For our exclusive interview with Ariel Marx, click here.
Impact
Shiva Baby is sure to stay on your mind long after watching it (as it has for me). Seligman's self-assured vision, in which all of the elements of stress and tension had me on the edge of my seat wondering how Danielle would escape the next lie, are hilariously constructed. I really can't remember the last adult comedy that felt so edgy, raunchy, risky, yet smart. Along with the fact that this type of character, unsure how to move forward at this point in their life) is typically now only seen in TV (Fleabag, Girls), it's refreshing to find it in a film (I hate to break it to you Judd Apatow, but The King of Staten Island didn't feel anywhere near as enjoyable as Shiva Baby).
Conclusion
I absolutely love recommending a film like Shiva Baby, a directorial debut that is both successful in its own right and makes me look forward to what lies next for the whole filmmaking team. Especially as theaters slowly re-open and new releases continue to struggle to find mass distribution, it's such a gift to get the chance to be able to see a new film like this one that also happens to be one of the funnier adult comedies to come out in recent times. Get behind this one, baby.
77 minutes. 'Shiva Baby' is not rated. Available to rent on Apple TV+ and Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uT1M9WfqYA&ab_channel=Utopia
'The Human Voice' Review: Tilda Swinton Captivates in Almodóvar’s Latest
At just thirty minutes long (the length of a TV episode), Tilda Swinton commands every second of the small screen in Pedro Almodóvar's beautifully staged and winkingly meta new short film, The Human Voice.
With Tilda Swinton as the film's singular character, The Human Voice (which was also selected to play at last year's Venice Film Festival) is a devilishly playful bit of pop-art filmmaking that sees the director combine his source material’s wonderfully satiric silliness and makes it a meta viewing experience that comments on both film production and how we communicate as humans.
In The Human Voice, Swinton plays an actress unhinged, at first silent and vacant as she sulks about her decadent and deadening modern apartment, but then firey and alive at the sound of her iPhone ringing, her lover on the other end of the line.
Over the course of their on-off conversation (of which we only hear Swinton's side of throughout the entirety of the film) she switches from depressed and pilling boozer, to desperately needy partner, to rage-filled and scorned woman of the world all in a moment’s time.
It's a high task to have to create the entirety of a world when you’re acting alone, but if there’s anyone in Hollywood who can do the job, it’s Ms. Swinton, whose talents and stamina make the film captivating. What she does so effortlessly–communicating an entire story and relationship of a fictionalized, passionately troubled couple–is accomplished all by way of using a singular element: her voice.
And she does this with gymnastic range, pitching up her voice to harken back to old Hollywood romantic starlets, and then down-shifting gears into a lower register to convey darker colors. Her voice work on display here is as vital and deadly as any of Almodóvar's beautifully composed hardware and tools that are so artfully composed within the background.
The Human Voice does communicate a narrative story (kind of), but just as Almodóvar makes a point of regularly reminding us that the apartment is in fact a set within a soundstage, and the actor alone within it all, the film should really be watched and appreciated for what it is: an exercise in filmmaking where the audience gets the rare chance to deconstruct, study, and understand all the parts that go into the art of filmmaking, which feels so special to get during a crossroads in film production when everything was flipped on its head. Personally, I think it’s something worth shouting for.
30 minutes. ‘The Human Voice’ is now playing in Los Angeles at the Vineland Drive-In Theater.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3lGM39dKuY&ab_channel=SonyPicturesClassics
Gavin Brivik Interview: 'Wild Indian' Composer On Film Scoring
Premiering at this year's (virtually held) Sundance Film Festival, Wild Indian is a tension-filled drama that explores the aftermath of an act of violence, and the lives that are altered and emotions that are repressed following it. After seeing the film and feeling moved, I felt that I had to talk to the film's composer, Gavin Brivik, to learn more about his creative process.
Read our review of 'Wild Indian' here.
In terms of tone, it's a huge departure from a film like the 2018 cult-hit Cam, which is the film that composer Gavin is perhaps most widely known for scoring.
A Kansas City native, Gavin Brivik is an exciting young musician and film composer whose work in music scoring is already ambitious, experimental, and fearless.
I had the pleasure of meeting and chatting with Gavin on the heels of Wild Indian's release (the film is currently seeking distribution), and during our interview and Zoom call, we talked about everything from inspirations (Oneohtrix Point Never and Johnny Greenwood), his creative process (the creative opportunity of scoring to "themes" over picture), and the exclusive news announcing a vinyl release of the Cam score and soundtrack.
Check out the conversation with Gavin, and keep your eyes peeled for where this young talent will appear next.
https://youtu.be/EQdo6iL3asI
'Judas and the Black Messiah' Review: Daniel Kaluuya Electrifies
If you, like me, were previously unaware of activist Fred Hampton's story, writer and director Shaka King looks to educate audiences with his biopic Judas and the Black Messiah (now streaming on HBO Max). King brings Hampton's story to the big screen by telling the real-life events of how an FBI informant infiltrated Hampton's Black Panther Party, became the chairman's confidante, and ultimately aided in his politically-motivated death.
To tell this story, Judas and the Black Messiah needs to start by telling the story of Bill O'Neal (LaKeith Stanfield), a young troublemaker who, after a run-in with the law, is hired by an FBI officer (Jesse Plemons) to infiltrate Fred Hampton's (Daniel Kaluuya) inner circle within the Black Panther Party for the government's tracking. Taken in by the promise of expunging his record (and eyeing the opportunity to attain a lavish lifestyle), Bill starts attending meetings in which Hampton–or "Chairman," as his followers reverentially call him–inspired the masses through urgent, commanding visions and plans of growing Black Power messages in a post-MLK and Malcolm X world.
Daniel Kaluuya gives so much to embody the Chairman, bringing primal urgency in his wall-shaking speeches as well as quiet reflection in more intimate moments. It's clear that while Judas and the Black Messiah is driven by the central story of a rat in the henhouse, Shaka King naturally veers from this plot to show even more of Chairman's life, which includes a beautifully blossoming relationship with Deborah Johnson (Dominique Fishback). Their shared scenes, in which the two exchange ideas of inspired poetry and favorite speeches, are pure cinema magic (and Fishback is a revelation in the film). While Lakeith Stanfield does an admirable job of bringing the ethically-compromised Bill O'Neal to the big screen, the more the film goes on (with scenes that feel impactful, but standalone), the more it feels like his story of snitching feels less like the central reason we should be watching.
Sean Bobbitt's (Widows) cinematography captures this 60s era period with a distinct and beautifully cinematic vision. Jesse Plemons' presence adds further weight to the film, and Martin Sheen also appears (with noticeable makeup) as the power-hungry J. Edgar Hoover. And on a poignant final note, the film is framed by an interview with the real Bill O'Neal right before the credits roll.
The overall impact of Judas and the Black Messiah–which ends in a painfully powerful spree of gunshots–is overwhelming and deep, as I still think about the film regularly even after seeing it premiere at this year's Sundance Film Festival weeks ago. Through telling Fred Hampton's story, Shaka King channels the entire spectrum of the Black experience–from the beautiful poetry and unshakeable perseverance through the sadness and rage that protesting and oppression bring, which is very much felt in today's America. Through Kaluuya's bellowing speeches and Shaka King's direction, Judas and the Black Messiah will echo for a long time to come.
126 min. ’Judas and the Black Messiah' is rated R for violence and pervasive language. Now playing on HBO Max.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sSjtGqRXQ9Y&ab_channel=WarnerBros.Pictures
'Jockey' Sundance Review: A Look at the Last Leg of One's Life
In Jockey, riding a horse is where you're the freest. It's when you're off of the horse where the real struggles come, where you must confront the larger issues in life, such as the decline of your physical health and perhaps even the shortcomings of your own life.
These are the realities that the film's writer/director, Clint Bentley, knows well, having grown up in the world of horse racing, as a young boy, watching his father live as a jockey. It's with this reverential love and respect for his late father's life–a hard one–that makes his feature film debut, Jockey, such a deeply personal accomplishment.
Rather than center the film around the adrenaline-pumping moments in the saddle, Bentley focuses his directorial debut around the life of a jockey lived outside of racing–a tough one lived on the backside of the race-grounds which the career demands (think The Wrestler here). This is the life that Jackson (Clifton Collins Jr.) leads, a once-winning jockey whose prime is now behind him, who now struggles to keep up with the pack as he enters the twilight of his career. It's when Jackson attempts to get in shape for one last championship run that he is met with new debilitations, forcing him to recognize that the demands of the job may outpace what he's able to give.
Reflecting on one's physical limitations is also a ripe time to come to terms one's personal life, which is what Jockey does, and where it feels like it becomes a second film–that of a father/son movie. When rookie Gabriel (Moises Arias) arrives and approaches Jackson–bearing a striking physical resemblance to him–the two begin to foster a bond, in which Jackson begins mentoring him while he attempts to make his own final training run.
The connection created by Clifton Collins Jr. and Moises Arias here is sincere, and Clint Bentley captures it with tenderness. Family is a central theme to Jockey, that of the one we are given and the one that we make. In another noteworthy recognition to the film, Molly Parker also joins the story as Ruth, Jackson's horse trainer, providing another layer of makeshift family dynamic.
A decision that Clint Bentley makes that gives Jockey its heartfelt effect is by blending the actors into a very raw environment in which they act opposite non-actors–real jockeys who share their life's stories, adding incredbile realism to this world (Chloé Zhao's The Rider comes to mind here). Scenes of debilitated jockeys sharing their stories in support group settings offer a continuous discovery, more than a pre-written script could. And moments like these–which Jockey has throughout–allows you to buy into this world so totally and completely.
Of final note here, is that the overall beauty that Clint Bentley captures gives the film the cinematic touch that it needs to transcend. While the life of a jockey, lived in a trailer is totally unglamorous, stunning camerawork by Adolpho Veloso captures beautiful moments of early sunrises and dusk sunsets in brilliant pink and blue golden hour hues. And when the film does see its jockeys racing, the ethereal music composed by The National's Dessner Brothers takes on a heavenly, spiritual nirvana–a moment when everything else falls away.
If you're looking for a meditative film about mortality and entering the twilight of one's life, as well as if you want to see a more intimate look at the world of horse racing, then Jockey is for you. The film makes one of its deepest statements when Ruth offers Jackson the sage advice that "You have to tell a horse when it's time to quit." And although that day in which we'll inevitably have to quit comes for all of us, Jockey shows that an indomitable spirit never will.
'One For The Road' Sundance Review: A Gorgeously Travelled Journey
One For The Road begins with a familiar setup: two friends embark on a road trip so that one, cancer-stricken, can make amends with people from his past. Director Baz Poonpiriya takes this starting point and breathes dazzling cinematic life into it, making One For The Road so much more than just a buddy road film but rather a joyful, sorrowful, romantic, and nostalgic meditation on life, love, and loss.
When NYC bartender and ladies man Boss (Tor Thanapob) receives a call from old friend Aood (Ice Natara) with news that he is dying, Boss agrees to meet him in their Thailand hometown so that he can join Aood as he visits ex-girlfriends to make amends for past behavior. This road trip, in which Aood pops cassettes into the car with exes' names on them while deleting their contacts from his phone after each visit, spans One For The Road's first act. As the pair continue on their chaptered present-day visits, the film intercuts with flashbacks of their previous New York City friendship–which includes Boss' former love Prim (Violette Wautier). This all builds to the reveal that Aood has one last secret he intends to disclose to Boss, which threatens to destroy their friendship as his life nears its end.
One For The Road is an incredibly wide-ranging and liberated film, in both emotional range and narrative. Poonpiriya is such a confident and expressive filmmaker; when the film is joyful and going for a joke, it's completely silly and when it's sad, it down-shifts into a somber, melancholic manner. And while these shifts in emotional exploration do feel discohesive, the leaps in the film's narrative exploration keep it from being a flat-out flawless film. But there's so much richness and abundance and ideas Poonpiriya is expressing–which are also so well-executed–that we get swept up in it regardless.
The most obvious wow-factor is the mesmerizing cinematography (which, is probably to be expected for a film produced by the legendary cinematic master Wong Kar-wai). Poonpiriya's vision is exacted by cinematographer Phaklao Jiraungkoonkun. The film dazzles with vibrant colors, gorgeous widescreen compositions, and fluid movements that capture sequences of lusciously made cocktails and stunning locations, including the coast of Thailand and New York City.
One For The Road should be celebrated for its beautiful vision, as it's one of the most gorgeous films I've seen in some time. While the film would arguably be better if it were more focused on a single identity, the fact that Poonpiriya so easily and confidently shifts genre and moods to fit the nature of the moment was a move that I find I enjoy. There's so much cinematic richness here that I found myself won over, especially in the film's final act, which is the most emotionally resonant and affecting.
This is a gorgeous memory film that captures life events so naturally and beautifully. It's a meditative look at our mortality and saying goodbye to the ones we love. Let yourself be swept up in this film, where intricately crafted cocktails, beautifully harmonious colors, and incredible camerawork will leave you drunk in love.
'Derek DelGaudio's In & Of Itself' Review: Understanding Our Illusions
What better way to convey that the beliefs we hold around the perceptions that we construct–whether of the outside world or our very identities–are nothing more than illusions, than by combining emotional storytelling with sleight of hand trickery? That's the winning combination that makes up the equal parts inventive and compelling new film from Derek DelGaudio, in Derek DelGaudio's In & Of Itself, an enlightening existential experience that uses showmanship to sell self-help. It's an experience that I will remember today, tomorrow, and likely for the rest of my life.
Performed over 552 times in a small NYC black box theater, the film (now available to watch on Hulu) is an assembly of multiple shows in which Derek DelGaudio dazzles audiences in broad and intimate fashion through mythology, personal storytelling, and sleight of hand.
By interspersing magic through parables and personal stories, it's kind of like if your therapist were to quite literally pull a rabbit out of their hat to show you that what you think you know, you really don't.
The main idea that Derek DelGaudio brings forth is that our identities, and the roles we play in life, are constructions often limiting to who we really are. He presents chaptered mythological stories – that of "The Rulatista" entering into Russian roulette, the story of the dog and the wolf, and the elephant that we never perceive in whole, but only in its parts – that add a sense of timeless lore and weight to the event.
But he also gets deeper, talking about the personal stories that made him the way he was – a tough upbringing as a single child with a single parent.
DelGaudio the performer plays his emotions and scripting close to his three-piece suit's vest, limiting his emotional range to carefully constructed in which he retains full control. He is an unassuming performer, which he uses to be more "human" than "showman".
Executive produced by Stephen Colbert and directed by Frank Oz (Yoda!), In & Of Itself is carefully balanced between a one-man show that ebbs and flows with measured laughs, solemn listening, and then bursts of amazement which makes for an intimate experience.
As someone with an interest in theater, self-help, and magic, I unapologetically loved Derek DelGaudio's In & Of Itself and would recommend this to anyone I know. Once we better understand illusions, who knows what the future has in store for whoever we choose to become.
'Derek DelGaudio's In & Of Itself' is now available to watch on Hulu.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_62BeXxd_jo&ab_channel=Hulu
'Some Kind of Heaven' Review: Fantasy in a Retirement Community
Fulfillment, satisfaction, completion, contentment, peace. It's what we're all striving to achieve in our lives. Yet life is hard, and we don't always stay on this track. Our flaws and insecurities, measured against our boundless imaginations, can make for a hard reality to adjust to if we're not content with where we're at in life. Especially living in present-day America, where reality has been proven to be whatever personal construction we make it to be, as Some Kind of Heaven shows.
And as we make it into the twilight of our lives, our shortcomings become even more magnified. So, wouldn't a place that offered aging seniors the opportunities to pursue those fantasies be a good thing?
A new documentary, directed by Lance Oppenheim and executive produced by Darren Aronofsky and The New York Times, shows retired living at The Villages, America's largest retirement community. This magical oasis offers its local community an unlimited number of recreational activities to do and, with that, an infinite amount of people you can be.
Home to 130,000 residents, the Florida-set retirement community is shown as a place where the aged have escaped to live out their final years, experiencing the fountain of youth (which is what The Villages founder Harold S. Schwartz advertised to baby boomers).
Oppenheim crafts Some Kind of Heaven into a wonderfully off-kilter experience, in which the dreamy surrealism of The Villages is seen as being in a magical trance.
Some of the gray-haired are clearly okay with having a good time, living out their hedonistic pleasures of "nightclubbing" and meeting new singles. But others, who Oppenheim centers the film around, see the falsehood in the proscenium and grapple with the darkness that lingers at bay.
The characters who Oppenheim follows are strong and distinct: there's married couple Reggi & Ann, who are trying to maintain a marriage under Reggi's cratering mental state (tai chi and drugs assisting). There's Dennis Dean, a van-living man seeking to get close enough into The Villages to find stability (and a sugar mama); and Barbara Lochiatto, a widowed woman looking to step back into romantic life.
Oppenheim crafts Some Kind of Heaven into a wonderfully off-kilter experience, in which the dreamy surrealism of The Villages is seen as being in a magical trance. Captured in 4:3 aspect ratio, the cinematography by David Bloen captures the oddity in the manufactured synchronicity. And it very much captures the illusion of fantasy making our darkness.
Some Kind of Heaven is a must-watch. Its sharp observations make for a documentary that plays like a comedy and a dark drama. And underneath it all is a film about identity.
I'm reminded by a quote from Shantideva: "All the suffering there is in this world arises from wishing our self to be happy." There may be something to that, here. But if all that's too much for you, I know a place where you can go to make all your life's troubles disappear.
Distributed by Magnolia Pictures, available on-demand this Friday, January 15, 2021.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmRnGHrjl1w&ab_channel=MagnoliaPictures%26MagnetReleasing
'Sound of Metal' Reflection: Could I Accept A "New Me" After Tragedy?
I'm lucky to be able to say that I haven't experienced a debilitating event that has changed my current way of living. And to be able to say that during a raging international pandemic, is a truly humbling thing.
This isn't to say that a tragedy of that type won't befall me in my lifetime. In fact, knowing what I have now makes me consider the opposite: what a loss would make me feel, and how hard the blow would be.
If I ever do lose a part of myself–which I've lived with and known my entire life–how would I respond?
I wonder about these thoughts now, as the new film Sound of Metal (available to stream on Amazon Prime this Friday) explores this in an explosive and visceral way.
In Sound of Metal, Riz Ahmed plays Ruben, a heavy metal drummer who loses his hearing while on tour. And with that, he's threatened to lose himself. At first, Ruben reacts how anyone would if they had to make sense of this new nightmare: confused, scared, and dismissive until ultimately realizing that he must either confront his new life's reality or live in denial.
Read our 'Sound of Metal' review here.
To complicate things further, Ruben's girlfriend (Olivia Cooke) is the guitarist and vocalist of their two-piece band.
So then, we now see the full scope of Ruben's actual, and perceived loss: if he loses his hearing, he believes, he'll lose his band; and in effect, lose her.
Under such saddening circumstances, how would I react?
Would I be able to accept the circumstances of my new life and the loss that comes with it?
As someone who loves music and plays guitar and piano, I'm sure I'd react in similar shock and heartbreak, as Ruben does.
But this also gets me thinking of the teachings that I've learned and picked up along the way from studying Buddhism, and what its practices could offer to me–or anyone undergoing traumatic change–at that time.
Don't worry.
I'm first reminded of this quote from the Dalai Lama (A Policy of Kindness):
If you have fear of some pain or suffering, you should examine whether there is anything you can do about it. If you can, there is no need to worry about it; if you cannot do anything, then there is also no need to worry.
I certainly don't want to trivialize anyone's intense and real loss by merely reducing a solution down to offering a simple platitude, along the lines of "Don't worry, be happy."
Devastation and loss is something that should be mourned–it allows us to recognize and celebrate the importance it had on our lives.
But remembering that whether we can, or can't, control something in our lives, means that to spend our time passively worrying about anything, is unhelpful.
Suffering, and non-attachment.
I also think of what it means to suffer.
And I'm reminded of this adage:
"Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional."
Suffering, then, is an ongoing, sustained action that we do, after a moment in which the pain has occurred.
Buddhism teaches that all forms of suffering come from the attachments we develop– we hold on to suffering.
So then, why do we sustain and prolong our suffering?
If pain is experienced in the immediate, why do we ruminate over suffering long after it's occurred?
Perhaps because replaying that suffering, paradoxically, feels good. Because even though it makes us grieve, it orients us in safety, stability, and victimization.
I know that I can best prepare for change–even just the inevitable change of growing older–by trying to practice non-attachment every day, starting today.
Impermanence, and gratitude.
It's a scary thing, though, to think about not having any attachments in your life.
I like being attached to my family, my friends, and myself. Understandably, we do these things to keep us safe, and psychologically sane.
But once we accept that nothing is ever really permanent–that we are "new" in every moment–this allows us to also appreciate everything we have, while we have it.
And when we lose it, we're able to adjust to our new "now," without longing for the past of what we once knew.
Like an Etch A Sketch wiped anew, we must begin again, as-is.
However, if I were truly living in the present, without attachments, then who would I even be?
What would constitute my "self"?
The illusion of a "self."
If the identities that we create are just the summations of our past histories, made into this moment, what does that say about who we really are, versus who we perceive ourselves to be?
Would it be possible to be open to new experiences, and to grow, and evolve, if we choose to remain stuck in the past?
When he loses his hearing, Ruben's identity is shaken, too. Beyond losing the ability to play the drums, he doesn't accept that he is now a part of the deaf community, which he still sees as "other" than him.
I'd probably hurt more too, because of how drastically my conception of "me" would be shaken.
Not having attachments may make me think I had nothing. But maybe if I took the leap, and detached myself emotionally from everything, I would allow myself to live more authentically, and respond more honestly to my immediate moments without past judgments.
Kintsugi.
In these final thoughts, I'm also reminded of Kintsugi.
Kintsugi, the Japanese art of breaking (traditionally) vases and fusing them back together so as to show the beauty in a re-fortified piece, shows the strength and possibility of healing.
Nerdwriter's video essay on Kintsugi: The Art of Embracing Damage encapsulates this perfectly, and is well worth a watch.
In Sound of Metal, Ruben, after an attempted surgical operation, struggles with embracing his deafness, failing to see that he would in fact be stronger, not weaker, if he did.
Acceptance.
Ultimately, Sound of Metal does set out to show that we can seek salvation and rebuild rather than wallow in self-pity and destruction.
Instead of just a downward spiral into self-imploding defeat, Ruben's journey in accepting himself as someone who loses something dear to him is incredibly brave and incredibly realized cinematically.
In this way, Sound of Metal isn't so much the insatiable Whiplash as it is closer to the meditative, painterly The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.
Sound of Metal shows acceptance perfectly when Ruben's deaf teacher Joe (Paul Raci) says to him that he wishes that he could see him live peacefully, sitting alone, quiet, on a park bench.
Notice how the film opens–with the thrashing of drums–and how it ends–with Ruben ultimately sitting on a park bench in silence, at peace.
Ruben didn't realize it, but what he thought was his outlet and release–noise–was really just chaos in his life. His deafness, and beyond that, acceptance, is now a gift that makes him stronger.
I think of the Zen story of the farmer, whose cryptic adage of "maybe so, maybe not" to perceived tragedies and gifts in his life could never really be seen as either.
For we always see the short game, and not the long game.
So Sound of Metal makes me think that the next time I am confronted with a personal struggle, I'll try to think of it as either a gift or an opportunity to embrace change.
And in those moments while I wait, I'll sit and listen to the ever-present silence.