Roma

2018’s Roma, written and directed by Alfonso Cuarón.

Starring Yalitza Aparicio, Marina de Tavira, Fernando Grediaga, Verónica García, Diego Cortina Autrey, Carlos Peralta, Marco Graf, Daniela Demesa, Nancy García García, Jorge Antonio Guerrero, and José Manuel Guerrero Mendoza.

Nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture, Best Director (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Actress (Yalitza Aparicio), Best Supporting Actress (Marina de Tavira), Best Original Screenplay (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Cinematography (Alfonso Cuarón), Best Foreign Film, Best Production Design (Eugenio Caballero and Bárbara Enríquez), Best Sound Editing (Sergio Díaz and Skip Lievsay), and Best Sound Mixing (Skip Lievsay, Craig Henighan and José Antonio García).

What is it about?

Roma is director Alfonso Cuarón’s homage to his childhood experiences. Based in 1970’s Mexico City (Roma is a neighbourhood set within it) a housekeeper, Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), works in a home with its Mother, Sofia (Marina de Tavira) and Father, Antonio (Fernando Grediaga), Grandmother, Teresa (Verónica García), and 4 children, Tono, Paco, Pepe, and Sofi (Diego Cortina Autrey, Carlos Peralta, Marco Graf, and Daniela Demesa). Amidst a chaotic political landscape, and in streets teeming with the clamour of everyday life, Cleo tends to the home and takes care of the children. The family has their respective domestic dramas that Cleo is a part of, while she has own private life that demands her attention. Inevitably the 2 worlds collide, as Cleo has to choose which one she is going to belong to.

Why is it worth seeing?

Roma was a film festival darling for obvious reasons. Mexican director Alfonso Cuarón‘s loving homage to his childhood is one of the most lavishly shot movies of the year. Shot in classical black and white, Cuarón focuses his auteur camera on the intensely personal lives of a housekeeper and the family, meant to represent memories of his childhood. While his subjects of adoration calibrate in his nostalgic foreground, Mexico’s frenzied political environment (and Mexico City’s bustling chaos) whirl around in the background. It’s as much a love letter to his housekeeper and family, as it is the city and country he grew up in.

Like any patient love letter, Cuarón takes his time in delving the personal, mundane features of everyday life for a nanny. Amidst a background of chaotic political unrest and class warfare (a Cuarón staple), we marinate in a languid milieu of washing floors, cleaning up after others- and saving children’s lives. It’s a tapestry of the ups and downs of every day life, through the lens of a confident master who seems to be peaking in his career at the same time as when he’s telling the auto biographical.


Centred in that tapestry, we are introduced to the subject of Cuarón’s childhood, the nanny as played by incredible newcomer, Yalitza Aparicio. It’s a moving performance, as natural as a leaf floating down a river, and it pays great tribute to the stability the housekeeper must have provided Cuarón who grew up in a home with estranged parents. She says little- but goes through so much. Anyone who isn’t impacted by some of her more life (and death) affirming moments, is made of stone.


I came to Roma with great expectations. As mentioned, it features a gargantuan amount of art house hype, and Cuarón’s Children of Men is probably my favourite movie of all time (not to mention my love for Prisoner of Azkaban as my favourite Harry Potter, and of course, the sublime Y Tu Mama Tambien). So despite its technical mastery (seriously, is Cuarón’s usual cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, out of a job now?), it was difficult to say why some it left me a little flat. Now, a slightly underwhelming Cuarón film is still better than 95% of the movies out there, and basically my challenges with the picture are essentially reasons why it won’t be my #1 favourite film of the year. They are:

-While the movie is clearly Cleo’s, it feels like Cuarón’s emphasis on the background, that is, the political and sociological themes of 1970’s Mexico, whether it be the crowded city streets or a rally going on that emphasizes what people are up in arms about, takes away from us being able to identify as well as we could with Cleo. She’s a quiet figure who keeps to herself, but her attempts to connect with a baby’s father suggest that she wants to start a family for herself, to do more than simply exist and clean up dog shit, and have some degree of control over her life. These kind of character motivations are undermined by Cuarón’s emphasis on showing her as a tiny figure being engulfed by Mexico’s chaotic everyday life. The scenes where we do get to focus intently on just her are too few, and she gets lost in the hubbub. Do I want to watch her, at times silently watching her masters, or a bunch of shadowy figures throwing water on fires? In Children of Men and especially Y Tu Mama Tambien, the background is always an accompanying supporting character, but here the background at times threatens to diminish our quietly amazing protagonist.

-A lack of redeemable male characters. We know whose show this is, as Cuarón clearly has a sanctity for the women in his life who helped to raise him, but to see this movie is to assume that men are generally good for nothing. The most positive things that were witnessed from the men in the film, is putting out forest fires, and Cleo’s cousin, Ramón, taking Cleo to see her ex-boyfriend, Fermín, against Fermín’s wishes. That’s it. If Children of Men was about a world without children, this is what a world looks like without men. Oh, they’re around- squabbling, violent, entitled, overgrown boys in search of entertainment (or a cause). But there are no men. Masculine figures, full of leadership qualities who support their family, love their partner and children unconditionally, step up to the plate when needed- zilch.

-To some extent, I agree with Adam Nayman’s assertion that it feels at times like we’re supposed to be applauding the long, panning takes from the camera. They’re nice, and patiently engrossing, but they aren’t that memorable- save for the ocean scene.

Again, all of this isn’t to bury Roma- but to determine its place in history. Cuarón (already well established in Hollywood) takes us on a ride that we are helpless not to be affected by, and we are the better for it. There are some who will find Roma overrated as a masterpiece- but flawless in its technical merits. It has a lot of heart, and as a biographical time capsule it’s one of the most moving memorials to the past you will ever see. It’s clarity may be obscured by time- but its heart never is.

Rating:

4.5/5

Trailer: Click Here.

Sicario: Day of the Soldado

2018’s Sicario: Day of the Soldado, directed by Stefano Sollima.

Starring Benicio Del Toro, Josh Brolin, Isabela Moner, Jeffrey Moner, Jeffrey Donovan, Catherine Keener, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Matthew Modine, and Shea Whigham.

What is it about?

In the sequel to 2015’s Sicario, terrorist activities cause U.S. government operative Matt Graver (Josh Brolin) to be recruited by Secretary of Defence, James Riley (Matthew Modine). Graver brings back the Sicario, Alejandro Gillick (Benicio Del Toro), and they come up with a plan to kidnap the daughter, Isabel Reyes (Isabela Moner), of a drug cartel czar, with the idea that they can blame the kidnapping on a rival cartel, and then watch the cartels wipe each other out in retaliation. While the off the map operatives attempt to execute their subterfuge in Mexico, they’re double crossed, and Alejandro and Isabela end up on the run together. Hunted by various cartels, both governments, and oblivious gang members, will Alejandro and Isabel be able to survive life on the run on foreign soil?

Why is it worth seeing?

My number 1 movie of 2015 (unless you count the short film, World of Tomorrow), was Sicario. Its macabre story about the horrors of the drug war being fought by frustrated government officials featured equal parts top notch scenes of suspenseful dread and taut action. Emily Blunt was amazing, as her character discovered the ramifications of trying to fight fairly in a fixed fight, while Josh Brolin and Benicio Del Toro’s shadowy characters had no qualms about getting dirty. Its final message seemed to be that paradise hadn’t just been lost- but that hell was effectively here.

That’s where we find ourselves now in Sicario: Day of the Soldado. Its 2 biggest absentees from the previous film are star Emily Blunt, who’s talented presence provided the audience a relatable surrogate to experience the perils of the drug war, and visionary director Denis Villeneuve, who was not only skilled at slam bang action but more importantly at crafting tension. Stefano Sollima steps into the director’s chair, and despite a decent sequence of a cross that double crosses, just doesn’t have the verve of the steady handed Villeneuve.

One of the more baffling returns from the previous film, is writer Taylor Sheridan. We know, after the previous film, not to mention Hell or High Water and Wind River, that Sheridan knows how to write (and direct) a good yarn. So what’s with the limp imitation of himself? Making the film not only another (compromised) parable about the drug war, but also adding in acts of domestic terrorism (and Islam and refugee phobias) feels more relevant- in an age where the president likes to tweet from his toilet his intelligent thoughts on putting children in cages. But that doesn’t mean it’s better. There are some elements of interest, such as the relationship that develops between sicario Del Toro and his mark, and the walls closing in on the morally compromised Brolin and Del Toro’s characters, but the whole exercise generally feels like an updated version of the Reagan-era inspired Cobra. Violence just begets violence.

Packed with unanswered questions, and devoid of meaningful answers, S:DotS’s lust for revenge travels multiple countries, but has very few places to go. Its themes of betrayal, revenge, and utter nihilism towards one’s beliefs are hardly inspiring, and considering its source material the strongest emotion is that of disappointment. But not for the next one, as that iteration will be devoid of expectations. Hollywood has a habit of endlessly repeating itself far worse than any drug war.

Rating:

3/5

Trailer: Click Here.

Sorry To Bother You

2018’s Sorry To Bother You, written and directed by Boots Riley.

Starring Lakeith Stanfield, Tessa Thompson, Jermaine Fowler, Terry Crews, Danny Glover, Steven Yuen, Omari Hardwick, Michael X. Sommers, Armie Hammer, Patton Oswalt, and David Cross.

 

What is it about?

African American have-not Cassius Green (Lakeith Stanfield) and his artist girlfriend, Detroit (Tessa Thompson), begin jobs at a call centre. He has aspirations of impressing his boss, Johnny (Michael X. Sommers), as well as being able to pay his overdue rent to his Uncle (Terry Crews). Unlike the rest of his down trodden wage slave coworkers, Cassius has a secret weapon to elevate his sales pitches- a white voice (voiced by David Cross). With his sales volume up, Cassius needs to make a choice: will he join the ranks of his pro unionizing workforce (lead by a revolutionary minded Steven Yuen) and be an agent for change, or will he elevate to the power caller floor above the call centre to get himself paid?

Why is it worth seeing?

Writer director Boots Riley creates what is likely the strangest and most satirical movie of the year. In the above synopsis, I’ve purposely left some of the dramatic left turns that the movie engages in, as STBY in its incomplete form could sound almost like a Saturday Night Live sketch stretched to feature length movie. Rest assured it is not- it starts off odd, and then gets odder (and more intriguing).


But it’s not about just being strange for strange sakes. Riley’s script creates a incendiary satire of capitalism, and behind all the dirt poor sight gags and comic slights against the working class, comes the attached ebb and flow of revolutionary fervor. Beyond knowing what is in the sausage, is how the ruling class always has another ladder for you to climb, and another snake to slide down just when you think you belong with the 1%.

Like all great satirical works, actor Lakeith Stanfield and company play it straight in the face of bizarreness. Costar Tessa Thompson is hysterical as well, as she engages in performance art shows that would make Yoko Ono blush while wearing some outfits that cycle through various stages of gaudy coolness. All of these sight gags and the tomfoolery regarding one’s position on the corporate ladder becomes all the more surreal when anything is possible- both in the confines of the film’s frightening universe, and in real life (which is the scariest). That’s what makes it so unnervingly comic. Somewhere out there is a eerily powerful person who is trying to figure out how to fool people into bondage- and then how to spin it so that we think we all benefit from that person’s involuntary sacrifice.

Heavy on oddness and metaphor (its vibes and community minded protagonists make nods to 2008’s Be Kind, Rewind), Riley’s satirical views on capitalism raise both laughs and eyebrows. It’s always a treat to have someone challenging you when the laughter dies down- its lack of apology for bothering you is timely enough to interrupt dinner.

Rating:

4/5

Trailer: Click Here.

A Star Is Born

2018’s A Star Is Born, directed by Bradley Cooper.

Starring Bradley Cooper, Lady Gaga, Sam Elliot, Andrew Dice Clay, Dave Chapelle, Rafi Gavron, and Anthony Ramos.

What is it about?

Popular rock star Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper)’s best days are likely behind him. Spending his days so under the influence that he is barely able to stand, he cranks out rock concerts like Picasso churned out paintings. Bombed after yet another show, Jackson dives into a dive bar, and locks eyes with amateur musician, Ally (Lady Gaga). He’s instantly smitten, and while they fall in love, he encourages her to start her own career in the music business. As she becomes more popular, he continues to spiral into his addictions, despite the aid of supports such as his brother, Bobby (Sam Elliot), and friend, “Noodles” (Dave Chapelle). With Ally’s manager, Rez (Rafi Gavron) unsympathetic to his cause and her pleas for originality, will Jackson and Ally’s relationship last while their careers diverge?

Why is it worth seeing?

A Star Is Born is the 3^rd remake of the 1937 film (all together now: 1954, 1976, and 2018). Despite the well worn story (that has had its share of permutations), there are a couple of firsts here. It’s star and cowriter Bradley Cooper’s debut as a director, as well as costar Lady Gaga’s first leading role as an actress. While it's not perfect, the end result is as galvanizing as it is impressive.


Full disclosure- I always thought of Lady Gaga as Madonna 2.0. Can you blame me? She might have been born this way, but I saw a slickly assembled package of musical talent nearly obscured by gargantuan levels of production and social media savvy. But it was tough to say what she would be like as an leading role actress. Would the results be closer to say, Cher (who eventually won an Oscar), or Mariah Carey? It turns out to be much closer to the former, as Gaga’s breakout performance here BREAKS OUT. While paired with the equally charismatic Cooper, she more than holds her own and even ups him at some points. Her scene of the insecure but uber talented Ally breaking out of her stage fright to address a concert crowd and finish the song that Cooper’s character started will go down as 1 of the most popular scenes of the year- and it might not even be the most memorable one in the film.


With Cooper and Gaga humming on both cylinders, it makes for a can’t miss event that dares you to tear your eyes from the screen- there’s something just so elemental about movie stars showing you why they’re movie stars. And that’s before an appearance from a shockingly understated and potent Dave Chapelle (more please), and the ever reliable Sam Elliot. Cooper assembles all of this magnetism, and we are (thankfully) helpless to its pull. His direction is surprisingly confident, and with the aid of cinematographer, Matthew Libatique, they create an intoxicatingly comfortable experience that makes it look as easy as it is sexy. It sways, it rocks, it jukes- I’m in.

Its charms out of the way, after an addictive first 2/3’s, ASIB’s third act suffers from mental lapses. Its almost as if in the telling of its story that it itself becomes drunk on pheromones. For a just over 2 hour movie, it leaves a lot of unanswered questions- like it was in a bleary hurry to get to the credits after the phenomenal meet cute sequences. For example, the script hints at Ally’s character having some disagreements with her manager, over the perpetual question of selling out for bubble gum chart topping success vs. staying true to yourself- but we rarely actually witness any of the conflict. Does Ally stand for anything (other than by her man)?

With that said, it’s tough to say whose movie this belongs to. We know from the title that it’s Ally’s character who is being birthed to stardom (and see that it’s Gaga’s coming out party), but the story seems more focused on Jackson’s journey- which is odd given that his star is clearly descending. Ally goes away on tour- seen by an imagined wealth of peoples, and barely by us at all, and we instead focus on his sobriety (its scenes of the recovery process are also something that the movie whiffs on). Its almost like the script hasn’t been updated for the #metoo movement.


It’s after all of the drama plays out that we realize- we don’t really know either of these characters that well at all. It’s frustrating, because after falling in love with these 2 firecrackers of visual serotonin, that we would get something more akin to stars imploding. It’s frustrating, because the movie is still 1 of the better films of the year, and it makes you wonder what could have been had they not missed the dot on the exclamation point.

Rating:

4/5

Trailer: Click Here.

You Were Never Really Here

2017’s You Were Never Really Here, written and directed by Lynn Ramsey.

Starring Joaquin Phoenix, Ekaterina Samsonov, Judith Roberts, John Doman, Alex Manette, and Alessandro Nivola.

What is it about?

Set in present day New York, traumatized Iraq war veteran Joe (played by Joaquin Phoenix), works as a hitman who rescues kidnapped children, with the help of his handler (John Doman). When at home, he takes care of his senile mother (Judith Roberts). Joe is approached by a Senator (Alex Manette), who’s adolescent daughter (Ekaterina Samsonov) has been kidnapped and placed in a brothel. While attempting to finish the job, the Senator ends up dead, and Joe is crossed. Will Joe be able to finish the job while what little he has left is taken away from him?

Why is it worth seeing?

Director Lynn Ramsey doesn’t pull any punches in her tale of a clearly wounded battering ram smashing through a world of corruption and malaise. For a film of such disquieting feelings, it’s packed with intimate moments that make it tear all the more jagged. Joaquin Phoenix has never been better, and Jonny Greenwood’s score kicks it up another notch.

Scottish director Lynn Ramsey (who’s filmography of “feel good moments” such as Modern Callar and We Need To Talk About Kevin are great warm ups to YWNRH) and editor Joe Bini expertly cut between a geographical world of slummy bodegas, chaotic streetscapes, and elegant mansions interspersed with internal shifts of reality and memory for our protagonist. When not showcasing what he can do with a simple but brutal tool, we see him having memories of his experiences overseas or traumatic childhood, or having visions obsessed with death, or of saving souls. Ramsey’s focus on tight close ups sucks us in to a world both ugly and beautiful- and leaves us to figure it out for ourselves. Penning the script as well, Ramsey presents no speeches, reason, or clear direction for anyone- except forwards into hell.

It’s a real shame that when discussing the state of Hollywood’s domination of men over women working in the industry, that Ramsey’s name doesn’t come up more often. She’s ripe with talent and has a clear vision of what she wants to say- she doesn’t get included in the conversation as much as say, Kathryn Bigelow.

Modern treasure Joaquin Phoenix feels underrated these days. How else to explain a guy who continually seems to challenge himself and metamorphosis into various roles, while rarely getting the buzz? Here, he puts on a fair amount of weight to showcase a quietly psychotic character with heart who is as likely to off himself as he is somebody else. He is… intense- and unpredictable. It’s a fascinating turn, and it’s not hard to guess why Cannes awarded him best actor for his efforts. His quiet and fast speech which may include a sternum shattering punch tends to make an impact.

With Jonny Greenwood’s score, at times it’s difficult to not be reminded of his music for There Will Be Blood- that other film he scored about a psychopathic monster rampaging through our world. Greenwood adds a modern electronic thrum to the proceedings, but not lost on me is how at times he approaches something that is closer to horror than action thriller. Either way, it’s effective.

The fusion of Ramsey’s sensibilities with Phoenix’s intensity makes for a haunting (and straight forwards) meeting to a damaged but defensible mind. The segment of a loved one in memorial will likely make my Scenes of the Year list, and why not? Some of the images here tend to get imprinted in the mind as if pounded in with a hammer.

Rating:

4/5

Trailer: Click Here.