The year finally draws to its close, and once again, here's my chance to talk about some films I've neglected to mention, or didn't have much to say about them (It's hard to give everything a thorough write-up). So enjoy my mini-reviews, and I'll see you in the next year.
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs:
A rare disappointment from the Brothers Coen, while the film's anthologized presentation promises variety, it lacks in consistency. I think one of the real issues is how scattered the general quality of the shorts are. While those the likes of "The Gal Who Got Rattled" and the title story are definite highlights (Tim Blake Nelson for MVP), others are either in need of trimming, or are so underrepresented they contribute nothing (I'm thinking "Near Algodones"). The cast is all on point, but the general flow isn't, and you can tell this wasn't meant to be a film in the first place, and unlike something like Wild Tales, I couldn't think of a consistent throughline for the collection (other than "the west is rough," I guess), and only compounding the issue is its decision to end on the worst segment. Points for ambition, demerits for wasted space.
**1/2 / *****
Boy Erased:
The unethical practice of conversion therapy still endures in 41 states, with cases just like those of author Gerrad Conley still ongoing to this day. Renamed Jared Eamons in the film, and played fantastically by Lucas Hedges, Boy Erased lays bare the struggles, traumatic stress, and the scathing judgment to come from his grueling process, and the frustrating hold placed on him by those hiding behind their positions of power. Regardless of personal values, to hold this kind of violent dominion completely flies in the face of basic human values, which director and co-star Joel Edgerton plays out with slow but deliberate moving rhythm, wringing great emotion and fury from the psychological torment of that experiment. It serves to shine a light on the hypocritical creed to love thy neighbor, and yet having the willingness to damage a fragile soul due to unfiltered hatred, so long as the ends justify the means. Alas, the film does unravel when getting into several flashback sequences that don't hold the same weight as its present day events, but the strength of a great supporting cast, including a lovely Nicole Kidman as Jared's mother, aid the film and help give it the sensitive, if uneasy soul it thrives by.
**** / *****
Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald:
While her screenwriting debut wasn't perfect, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was another solid story from J.K. Rowling. But at this point, I think she's more enamored with making big budget fan-fiction than a genuine continuation or expansion of her famous Wizarding World. Disregarding basic continuity gaps with her own stories, The Crimes of Grindelwald applies some truly haphazard magic, as she plays incredibly fast and loose with her get out of jail free card magic, and bewildering retcons to her own stories. Was Sexy Nagini really something anyone wanted? But more importantly, the fact remains that she is not a screenwriter, frequently getting lost in her constant distractions and fascination with minor details, to the point that the direction apes that style by shooting inconsequential details like they're important. Characters from the first film reappear for no other reason than they were in the first, including a returning Eddie Redmayne who honestly looks bored, and Dan Fogler when there's no use for him. What crimes of the titular villain are so pathetically capitalized on, as despite a suprisingly sinister turn from Johnny Depp, he has little chance to stretch his legs, as the film becomes the Leta LeStrange show halfway through, when it should have placed more focus on the conflict between him and a young Dumbledore, played by a fantastic Jude Law. As always, the visuals are aces, but this is such a dull adventure. As a huge fan of the Potterverse films, this is the first that I can unequivocally call boring.
** / *****
First Reformed:
Earth and spirituality make uneasy bedfellows in director Paul Schrader's religious parable, in which Ethan Hawke's conflicted priest finds himself wrapped up in a crisis of faith, and growing in panic of the world in its current state. Is the film preachy? Yes, and it would honestly be hard not to be given the subject matter, but I was very engaged through most of the film, in which Shcrader raises compelling meditations on man's damaging touch on the world, and whether forgiveness can be achieved for the irreversible harm placed on it. Ideas of men behind the cloak becoming so preoccupied with what awaits in the afterlife, they completely neglect that which they see in this life, as well as the fate they consign their future generations to because of their lack of foresight. At the center is Hawke in a quiet, but powerful leading turn, as the world he's known his whole life begins to crumble from under him, and he lays harsh judgment on himself for the complacent role he himself has played. But after a while, said preachiness can become too strong, to the point that it begins to drag. And that drag is sadly compounded by the film's ending, which concludes on such a whimpering fizzle, it does dampen my take on the overall film. A thoroughly intriguing idea that couldn't hold up.
***1/2 / *****
Green Book:
Recent years have seen films of racial identity take greater prominence in the mainstream, with Green Book (from the inexplicable hands of Peter Farrelly) being among the latest. Truth be told, this turns out to be one of the lesser ones, in that it's competently made and is entertaining and humorous to watch, but at the cost of sanitizing its central politics. All in all, the Deep South racism angle feels admittedly glossed over, accomplishing the bare minimum to get its point across, but do so in a way that's still perfectly accessible and inoffensive for the general moviegoing crowds. This is not a film that's meant to make us think as hard as it's convinced it is, and most of the reason it succeeds is squarely owed to the strength of Viggo Mortensen and Mahershala Ali. Their friendship is the main, and mostly sole reason that this film is able to take off the way it does, with the two of them lending chemistry and laughter to spare, as their unlikely friendship takes form, and the two directly confront and understand their opposing heritage.
***1/2 / *****
Leave No Trace:
After 8 years, Winter's Bone director Debra Granik finally returns with Leave No Trace, one of the year's most beautiful unsung gems. Leave No Trace sets itself in a very intimate scope, as we lay witness to the lives of an always moving father and daughter, played spectacularly by Ben Foster and Thomasin McKenzie. In many ways, Leave No Trace has something of a nature vs. modernization angle to it, with the two spending most of their time isolated from society (particularly due to the father's PTSD), and confined to the greens of the woods. But such a living condition inevitably takes its toll, as the daughter begins to crave social interaction and a home to call her own, something the father understands, but struggle to grapple with. And what truly makes it stand out is how Granik patiently, sensitively lays out those desires of the two without demonizing the other, emphasizing the idea of home being what we make of it, regardless of where it be, or the people that surround us. The result is a gut-wrenching, but thoroughly rewarding portrait of love, family, and introspection.
****1/2 / *****
The Nutcracker and the Four Realms:
Disney tried to recreate the success of Alice in Wonderland, and apply a Christmas overlay to it. Taking the classic story and putting it in this semi-steampunk world, we get a truly bizarre film full of ideas and potentially fun idiosyncrasies, but is rendered so limp because of how seriously it runs with them. While Mackenzie Foy (not to be confused with Claire) does her best to hold the piece together, she's underwhelmed and let down by the cast around her. Keira Knightley's Sugar Plum Fairy is a tremendous waste of her talents, specifically that inexplicable high-pitched voice of hers, while veterans Helen Mirren and Morgan Freeman struggle to lend legitimacy to such an adventure. While the film may have its moments of invention, and can be admired for its visual creativity (and its Misty Copeland ballet sequences that are better than the film itself), too often does it look disenchanting and cold (distant, I mean). The fact that it's not the worst adaptation of the story only really speaks to how badly this source material has been mangled in the past.
** / *****
A Private War:
Journalist Marie Colvin was never one to shy away from the grueling effects of war, and even after the loss of her left eye, she kept pressing forward on showing little known battlegrounds and exposing them to the world. And it's with the same convicted intent that A Private War carries through with that tenacious and terrifying glimpse into the effects of war. Director Matthew Heineman makes his narrative debut here, coming from a background of documentaries such as Cartel Land. That experience helps to lend that kind of documentary feel to the film, as Colvin journeys to these lesser known warzones, and experiences the traumatic effects that it holds on the people of those places, and the agonizing body count that it raises. It becomes absolutely harrowing to witness, layed out in an almost strictly fact-based structure, forcing us to look the raw emotional damage in the face, all the while left in terror from the grazing bullets. It's incredibly basic, but effective in its approach, held together powerfully by Rosamund Pike's starring performance, breathing life into the grizzled and PTSD-wracked Colvin, and aided by a strong batch of supporting players such as Jamie Dornan and Tom Hollander.
**** / *****
A Simple Favor:
A twisty, deranged, darkly comical deviation from Paul Feig's usual output, A Simple Favor plays like a modern day semi-erotic twist on the 60's thrillers in the heyday of Charade. As Anna Kendrick's single mom grows increasingly attached to the mystery surrounding Blake Lively's seemingly perfect girl with everything, slowly she takes a dive into obsession as she uncovers her secrets, and tries to get into her skin both literally and figuratively, as the film morhphs into a satire of one of those awful Lifetime original movies, indulging in its pulpy camp by blending thriller elements and whip-smart whodunnits with the added edge of its dark sense of humor. Kendrick is excellent playing both to and against type, but it's Lively who dominates the picture sinking her teeth into a deliciously conniving enigma of a character.
**** / *****
Vice:
I liked this movie about as much as I did director Adam McKay's prior The Big Short. Which is to say that while I found plenty in the film to admire, it's still such a mediocre entry. Credit where it's due, Christian Bale's lead performance as the opportunistic silent killer that is Dick Cheney is terrific, managing to walk a fine line between fragile human being and quietly vicious predator, as he amasses power through the complacency of the American people. He and his team play to their fears and oversimplify issues like a big budget Hollywood production, in a bid to reaffirm the status quo, and only making things more frightening is the realization that it's we, as a people, let it happen, and as a result its effects are still felt to this day. But while I admire McKay's intentionally vulgar and condescending approach, and think it has merit on paper, McKay executes it with no tact whatsoever. After a while, the overall product feels incredibly sloppy rather than provoking, and while there are a number of laughs to be had, like many of McKay's prior films, the humor pushed at us feels choppy to say the least. And despite being surround by a game ensemble cast, none of them so much as come close to meeting Bale in quality.
*** / *****
Vox Lux:
Some would argue that art isn't art unless it's offending someone. In Vox Lux's case, it's only half-right. In its attempts to provoke and instill thematic meditation, in some ways becoming similar to a post-Drive Nic Winding Refn, it's not hard for the film's intentionally in your face nature to veer into outright insensitive. In its attempts to go artsy, the film really just tends to dive into exploitational, what with its usage of ongoing and past tragedies in the United States to fuel its narrative, and likely to alienate those with weak constitutions (especially if you're epileptic). Not to say there isn't inspiration and great ideas in the film, but many of them come in the film's former half surrounding Raffey Cassidy's Celeste, that then comes to a sputter when flashing forward to Natlie Portman as her older self. And clearly the film lacks nothing in ambitious commentary on issues of identity, arrested development, and the mood of the nation helping shape the mood of the individual, but some of those do get lost in the flashiness and the intentionally vulgar attitude. It's more of a success than failure, but lacks in discipline, almost playing like Portman's SNL rap taken seriously.
*** / *****
Widows:
Director Steve McQueen returns for his follow-up to 12 Years a Slave, holding nothing back in regards to bringing out the big guns, and therein lies the problem. No one can say McQueen's ambition was for naught, but it takes on more responsibility than it can really handle, bouncing frequently between themes of casual misogyny, racism, classism, governmental abuse of power, greed, and gang violence. Honestly, this may have benefitted from a mini-series structure, because by truncating so much material into a two-hour frame, McQueen - co-writing the film with Gillian Flynn - has so little time to give the pieces the attention they need, including characters who disappear and reappear with little fanfare or ease, including main team member Cynthia Ervo who takes until two-thirds into the film to take the stage (and in doing so, made this feel more Sicario than Heat). Viola Davis bears all and brings the tears and intensity, but doing so in vain of an empty character. It's actually the supporting likes of Elizabeth Debicki, Daniel Kaluuya, and Colin Farrell who hold much more of an impact, and in fact Debicki herself could have had enough material to justify her own film. McQueen's direction is solid, but it's his paper that gets away from him.
*** / *****
You Were Never Really Here:
Releasing earlier in the year, Lynne Ramsay's latest has become one of the most enduring independent releases of 2018. But while I wanted to be so wrapped up in the film, I found it much too cryptic for my tastes. The film does have one great smoking gun in its favor, with Joaquin Phoenix giving a terrific turn as a PTSD-wracked hired gun, who beneath his grizzled exterior and unassuming appearance, yields some incredible brutality behind his mask. The film's visual eye is also very strong, even if Ramsay feels a little too "one piece at a time" in her direction, making strong use of its abstract photography, and effective suspense. But ultimately, I just can't get wrapped up in the story. The film isn't brainless, and perhaps has some thoughtful ideas in regards to depression and violence on both ourselves and others. Or at least, that's what I want to assume, because I feel like this film is less about inspiring us with its ideas, and instead reaches out expecting us to place the ideas there. It's an exercise in Kubrick-esque skill, but without the Kubrick-esque thinking.
**1/2 / *****
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