Star Wars IX: Rise of Skywalker

2019’s Star Wars IX: Rise of Skywalker, directed by J.J. Abrams.

Starring Daisy Ridley, Adam Driver, Oscar Isaac, John Boyega, Anthony Daniels, Billy Dee Williams, Richard Grant, Carrie Fisher, Domhnall Gleeson, Kelly Marie Tran, Greg Grunberg, Mark Hamill, Naomi Ackie, Keri Russell, and Joonas Suotamo.

What is it about?

In the ninth installment of the Star Wars series, we resume after the events of 2017’s Star Wars VIII: The Last Jedi. With Emperor Palpatine back in the fold, he seduces Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) to continue hunting for Rey (Daisy Ridley) in order to finally extinguish the Rebel Alliance. Rey herself is training to become a Jedi Master, under the tutelage of General Organa (Carrie Fisher), but through a rebel spy’s crucial information she heads out with her team of Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac), Finn (John Boyega), Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo), C-3PO (Anthony Daniels), and BB-8, to defeat Kylo Ren and the Emperor. Can the Resistance defeat the Final Order, once and for all?

Why is it worth seeing?

Rise of Skywalker represents a bizarre point of the hallowed franchise’s timeline. Representing 11 feature length live action films in total (and countless tie ins), it has been rumoured that this is the end of the Skywalker generation of the Star Wars blockbuster saga (I’ll believe it when I see it). But for a film that at least numerically (and in aspiration sounding) title echoes Return of the Jedi, it doesn’t feel like a victory, never mind a resounding triumph. Assuming the good guys don’t all end up dead and evil reigns forevermore, it’s really something to see something with a built in fan base with devotion resembling something close to religious fervor come across so flat. How did we get to this point?


The divisive Last Jedi made a lot of Star Wars shareholders experts ticket purchasers irate. Blessed with the clairvoyance and creative know-how to dictate how the movie’s choices should have been executed, Disney listened intently and hired yes man J.J. Abrams to helm the next project, with him, Chris Terrio, Derek Connolly, and the later mutually fired Colin Trevorrow creating the story, and Abrams and Terrio writing the screenplay. While the characters sound perfectly fine, engaging in light hearted back and forth while rocketing across the galaxy and clashing light sabres, its story underlines the following: the last movie was a mulligan, and we’re going to do this again. It’s a awkward way to conclude a franchise/trilogy/theme park extravaganza.


Back, is Kylo Ren’s helmet. Smashed to bits in the last film, it’s reassembled here. The wearing of the helmet is not insignificant, in terms of merely keeping the wind off Ren’s face when rocketing across space with his top down. It’s a metaphor, for how much producer Kathleen Kennedy desperately wants to return to the fan service of 2015’s The Force Awakens, itself a copy and paste of 1977’s New Hope (the one that got this whole “galaxy far, far away” business all started). But Ren’s decision to destroy his mask in Last Jedi, to emerge out of the shadow of his complicated grandfather, felt like a liberation of him discovering his own unique destiny. To don it again (never mind the awkward scotch tape job), betrays a unique direction, in favour of numbly replicating that which came before. It’s that spirit of Xeroxing, that makes the film’s efforts to explain Rey’s lineage all the less inspired. The series had already deftly introduced Rey as a kind of blank slate, a desert junkyard scavenger with a large heart and latent Force powers, a somebody who came from no one. Her character’s lack of an explanation or actual family, was a unique feature, not a bug, of the story- especially with her spiritual force mate Ben Solo dominating the story’s attention with his own family matters (themselves circular in the Star Wars lore of daddy issues).

At least Rey features prominently in the proceedings- there are 2 great characters from The Last Jedi shoved firmly in the background here, again with meat cleaver levels of course correcting nuance. In particular, one is left behind to do homework on the rebel base, a fate more deserving of Jar-Jar Binks, while the crew jaunts about the universe meeting people to replace her. One of those people has connections to flyboy Poe, further discomforting the story in the conclusive stage of the trilogy when we already knew him to be a certain way as depicted in the last films.


There are positives to be found. Daisy Riley and Adam Driver remain dynamic and fulfilling characters, with Driver a strong candidate for best Star Wars villain ever, depicting an unhinged and complicated dude who’s soul may be beyond saving, but is dynamic enough that you never stop hoping he’ll come around. The gang’s banter, as they planet hop in search of Macguffins and on rescue missions, is pleasant. And it’s never as antagonizing as listening to lectures about midichlorians, or Hayden Christensen’s thoughts about sand. But Rise of Skywalker exemplifies a larger problem in the Star Wars cinematic universe- that there is just nothing left to milk out of the Skywalker franchise cow. The awkward footage of dearly deceased Carrie Fisher (patched together from outtakes from The Force Awakens), only reinforces the point. There’s a reason that the pop culture zeitgeist is far more attuned to The Mandalorian, or especially The Avengers (which wasn’t always the case, if anybody remembers 1999) than the latest “May the Force be with you” event. It just keeps returning to familiar planets, to battles on the wreckage of past movies’ settings, serves up old characters (I saw Wedge for a second!), recycles John Williams’ old iconic scores, and holds auditions for Daft Punk stand ins. The galaxy doesn’t feel very far away when it’s the same old thing, over and over.

Rating:

2.5/5

Trailer: Click Here.

Top 10 Honourable Mentions Movies of the 2010's Decade

It was so hard to just pick 10 films (here), that I had to crank out another 10, with them ranking just below the best 10 of the decade. Almost as painful. No more this year I promise…

20. Arrival (2016)-
Director Denis Villeneuve’s intoxicating take on aliens landing on earth has the biggest embarrassment of riches for rewatchability and hidden meaning since E.T. Filled with scenes of capable scientists and paranoid military types alike, they give way to the tremendous gift that the visitors endow upon humanity. Villeneuve portrays an exotic but restrained feeling to the film, to enhance its life affirming depth of feeling in its round story.

19. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)-
Director George Miller set out to make a sequel that would be both a continuation of his classic dystopian story about a drifter fighting strangers in a bleak resource deprived landscape, and a reboot of sorts, and submitted one of cinema’s greatest trojan horses ever. If Miller had merely set out to make a spectacularly glossy 2 hour car chase, packed with mind boggling (mostly) analogue stunts and hostile weirdos, he would have few equals. But Miller also has Charlize Theron’s character of Imperator Furiosa, with her group of bad ass women, hijack the film from Tom Hardy’s Max, and stealthily inserts the best depiction in the tetralogy of an imbalanced society and its rulers not wearing clothes. Stunning in its ambition, vision, and love of underdogs, Fury Road is one of a kind.

18. The Rider (2017)-
Writer/Director Chloe Zhao’s modern western, based around the true story of actor Brady Jandreau’s conflict of will after an injury leaves him unfit for his true passion- competing in rodeos and riding horses. With Jandreau and the majority of actors playing themselves, combined with its sense of South Dakota setting, The Rider has an uncommon sense of place (save #3 on the top 10 list) and authenticity that make for an transcendentally perfect time at the movies. Its ending is one of my favourite closing scenes of all time.

17. Whiplash (2014)-
Director Damien Chazelle’s love of music comes a close second in his tale of a young drummer (Miles Teller) being torturously inspired by a sadistic music instructor (J.K. Simmons). Simmons’ diverse methods of motivation and intimidation to his students highlight a charming but menacing arc that is exquisitely plotted like sheet music. In Teller’s character questioning what the depths of genius can look like and whether it’s worth it, Chazelle hits all the right notes.

16. The Florida Project (2017)-
Director Sean Baker’s tale of life on the margins is as desperate a portrait of getting by in America as it is a lovely story of community, and a glimpse through the eyes of a child. Possessing in equal measure an unblinking regard at poverty, and the magic of a type of Neverland for those too young to know the prudent charms of cynicism, it’s a film that sticks with you after its final images play out.

15. Parasite (2019)-

Director Bong Joon-ho’s tale of a grifter family finding a wealthy family to sustain their scams is a whirring, darkly hilarious, tense, and heartfelt social satire. The only 2019 entry in the list, despite not much time to percolate- its impression is that strong. Roaring through various genres with a deftness not seen since 2016’s The Handmaiden, Joon-ho creates something as funny and timeless as it is disturbingly timely. Featuring my favourite sequence, and shot, of this year. I wouldn’t dream of spoiling its charms- just see it.

14. Before Midnight (2013)-
19 years in the making, Richard Linklater’s conclusion to his Before trilogy is a treat to behold, as we get to see actors Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy’s physical aging, as much as their beloved characters of Jesse and Celine metamorphosis into middle age. With romance in their rear window, the 2 of them have to work through their slights and grievances, not just with life- now starting to take almost as much as it gives- but also with each other. Despite its charms of taking place in Greece, this is the setting where they must choose to work on each other, as the sun sets on their romance and the night time of their relationship begins.

13. The Master (2012)-

Writer/Director Paul Thomas Anderson continues his trend of making films that are so hyper focused on the pathologies of individual characters (graduating from his earlier works based on whole ensembles) that a microscope would be jealous at the level of clarity he is able to convey about Joaquin Phoenix’ and Philip Seymour Hoffman’s characters. What’s special about The Master is his having 2 people of such specificity go head to head, their molecules merging to create something different and constantly unexpected- and rarely with any insight for those involved. Packed with an incredible cast, Anderson creates something that is as ambiguous as it is foggy in its meaning and latent potency.

12. Zero Dark Thirty (2012)-
Director Kathryn Bigelow’s exploration of obsession through international acts of torture in war time takes no prisoners. Set in the Middle East throughout the Aughts, its story of the hunt for Osama Bin Laden is so captivating and told so well that those looking for confirmation of their beliefs (such as the justification of torture, American imperialism, terrorism in the name of security, and the end justifying the means) will find just that- for either side. Strap in for the film’s magnificent final third, a strike on the administration’s ultimate target.

11. A Separation (2011)-
Set in present day Iran, director Asghar Farhadi’s masterpiece plays as a more nuanced version of Kramer vs. Kramer. The film’s reality (estranged couple damaging their child in a strange custody battle based in a somewhat oppressive society) can be a difficult watch for some. But it’s a pleasure to see such an authentic portrayal of interconnected human beings in a impossibly complicated situation. Packed with intimate camerawork to showcase the 2 parents struggle to reconcile the difference between what is right for their family, what is legal, what is pious, what is best for their child, and what is actually happening. As real as it gets, and as well made as it gets.

… and I have to trump for them even if they didn’t make the top 20, but for sure top 30, err top 100:

Edge of Tomorrow/Live.Die.Repeat (2014)-
The studio can’t figure out what to call it, but this delightful mash up of science fiction and war is a winner. Gifted with a terrific premise and a typically charismatic performances by Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt.

Margin Call (2011)-
The best drama based around the great financial crisis of 2007. There’s no better way to show how a company, who’s main product of service to the public is fraud, bails when the music stops playing- and the party’s over when the check is due.

Columbus (2017)-

Director Kogonada’s take on a platonic couple guiding each other through an architectural mecca while experiencing real personal growth is a masterpiece of composition and framing, while it's tough not to love its protagonists Jin (John Cho) and Casey (Hailey Lu Richardson). The scene of an explanation at a bank is an all timer.

20^th Century Women (2016)-

A cinematic ode to writer/director Mike Mills’ past and the people who inspired him. One of my favourite scores of all time, and an elegiac ending that features minimal tragedy- but maximum effect.

Top 10 Movies of the 2010's Decade

Making lists is easy right? Just watch some films, keep records of their respective rankings each year, and then plunk them into place- say the #1 from each year and call it a night? No sweat. Except a weird thing happened- upon reflection, some years resonated stronger than others. As you’ll see, there are repeat year choices (guilt free too!), the reasons of which I’ll have to extrapolate another time. For now, I’m just happy to plunk these down and move on to the next thing. Who knows what this will look like when composing the best of the 2020’s decade. To paraphrase Steve Kerr, if it works I’m a genius, and if it doesn’t, I’m a moron.

10. Moonlight (2016)- 

Writer/Director Barry Jenkins’ triptych tale of a black boy/man evolving deserves all the hype it received when it miraculously beat the odds to win the Academy Award for Best Picture. Eschewing cliches, Jenkins creates a thunderously quiet study where you can practically feel yourself sharing in the character of Chiron’s molecules changing. It's a stereotype destroying testament to the power of individuals choosing whom they want to be, regardless of the quirks of the society they inhabit, whether it’s race, sexuality, class, addictions, or setting. Powerfully intimate to the point of revelation, it has a patience, sense of grace, and humanity that anybody can relate to- particularly film lovers.

9. Inception (2010)- 

The blockbuster of the group, writer/director Christopher Nolan capped off a phenomenal previous decade (Memento, Insomnia, Batman Begins, The Prestige, and The Dark Knight) by starting this one off with a bang. Always one to play with themes of time and psychological deception (amongst frequent love of men’s wear and hydrophobia), Nolan ups himself here with his bravura tale of intellectual thieves who steal ideas from people when invading their dreams. Inception’s fiendishly clever premise (of planting an idea in a mark’s mind so a rival can take over their company), is packed full of puzzles and exponential pretzel logic, and threatens to overwhelm one’s senses by abandoning caution as the crew plunges into dreams within dreams- but never tips into absurdity. Filled with action, it’s the rarest of summer released big budget films that dare to have a brain behind all the kinetics. Although he would later win his Academy Award for The Revenant, my money is on this being Leonardo DiCaprio’s best fit of a role, perfectly showcasing his classical movie star strengths while minimizing his Herculean effort miscues. Also featuring an all timer score from Hans Zimmer (so effective he would later rip it off for 12 Years a Slave), Inception’s meta metaphor of the dream land production studios of Hollywood making a film about the elegant but tumultuous world of the subjective unconscious is the stuff dreams are made of. Bonus points for generating a fair amount of debate as to the film’s closing shot, and how it impacts the way in which the film is viewed in the first place.

8. Certified Copy (2010)-

Writer/Director Abbas Kiarostami’s tale of a pair who pretend to be a couple as they explore Italy is a powerful treatise on the nature of reality. Surrounded by timeless works of art, and navigating through streets and buildings from other eras, the 2 characters (Juliette Binoche and William Shimell, both phenomenally natural) almost act as a couple of spies, forced to spend the afternoon together to probe each other’s truths. While the film features a twist, it never dresses it up to manipulate one’s intelligence. Packed with reflective surfaces, its goal is to remind us to stay in tune with whom we truly are. The result is an art house classic, that similar to its setting, begs to returned to again and again.

7. Boyhood (2014)- 

Writer/Director Richard Linklater already proved his mastery of depicting the inevitable and bittersweet passage of time in his sublime Before trilogy, but Boyhood, his tale of a young boy growing up, is his PhD dissertation. Filmed in segments for 12 consecutive years, Linklater succeeds not only in capturing the magic of childhood, as the boy matures from a child to an adolescent to a teenager, and all the joys and confusion and angst and happiness inherent, but in depicting how the village involved in the raising of this child grows with him. Part of the magic is in the genius of Linklater knowing that it’s not events such as the high school graduation that we remember, so much as the actual ride to the ceremony, making for a film that thrives in the margins of life. There are some fireworks, in that Patricia Arquette’s mother character has some spectacularly bad taste in men, but this is centred around the magic of sharing the consciousness of childhood. Revealing the respective epochs the segments are filmed in through subtle and not so subtle ways, we watch the characters evolve and transform, and just as the film threatens to drag, it’s over- and we want to watch it again. They really do grow up too fast.

6. The Immigrant (2013)- 

Perpetually underrated director James Gray’s tale of Polish immigrant, Ewa (Marion Cotillard, superb), coming into a hustler/pimp’s sway (Joaquin Phoenix, intense as ever) is a throwback, not just in setting but in Gray’s 70’s auteur style. As we explore 1920’s New York, the film slowly reveals the difficulties in navigating the sham of the American Dream, perverted by the wishes of a few misguided individuals working together in a corrupt system. It’s a set up ripe with potential for cliché and well trodden tropes, but the magic in the film is how the film avoids the beaten path in favour of subtlety. Expertly crafted by Gray, the depth of feeling is as deep as the execution is tight, and even at the film’s magnificent final shot, not only does it feel like there is so much we still haven’t found out about these rich characters, but that their journeys are far from complete.

5. The Tree of Life (2011)-

Terrence Malick’s ultimate culmination of his sensibilities can go a little heavy on the platonic allegory and characters that resemble archetypes rather than people, but its colossal ambition is the only thing more powerful than its inspiration. Combining a micro story of a nuclear family loosely connected to his own coming of age in 1950’s Texas, with macro segue ways of the universe’s greatest mysteries and triumphs, it’s a movie that whispers urgently when it’s not thrashing to classical music like 2001: A Space Odyssey. Challenging and stunningly beautiful, it’s a film that begs for repeat viewings, amongst its urgings of something that all human beings yearn for behind the screen’s indelible images.

4. Manchester by the Sea (2016)-

Director Kenneth Lonergan’s masterpiece of grief is everything a potent downer could be, but the magic is in how funny it can be at times, creating something that gives its characters a glimmer of hope of recovering from unfathomable trauma. Possessing a terrific sense of place (New England), just try forgetting the scene where Michelle Williams and Casey Affleck attempt to have a conversation after so much has changed for them. Affleck’s Academy Award has aged nicely, a crackling and awkward portrait of repression and denial that hides an ocean of emotion. Masterfully done, heartbreakingly sad at times, and packed with unspoken sentiments of melancholic regret.

3. Winter’s Bone (2010)-

Director Debra Granik’s output over this century may be light, but her impact is potent- nowhere as demonstrably as with her second feature. Jennifer Lawrence’s coming out party (as an actress that is) showcases an extremely authentic place of Ozark Americana, crammed full of generations of people wary of outsiders who identify more with criminals than with those who work in systems. Lawrence’s wise beyond her years character’s odyssey has her come face to face with a landscape ravaged by drugs, intergenerational poverty, toxic masculinity, and eye for an eye family feuds. As her journey becomes more harrowing and strange, the story transforms to become eerily mythological An authentic tale of fierce struggle, but also about geography of place and how people choose their environment- regardless of how the math works out.

2. The Social Network (2010)-

What a year for 2010. It feels really appropriate to place a film that premiered as the decade was starting, and never had anything (save #1 below) really be able to trump its vision. While never concretely a true story per se, Aaron Sorkin’s rapid fire script furiously showcases the end of privacy, sea change shifts in capitalism, the annihilation of nature (save virtual), and the proclamation of trolls. Furiously rewatchable, David Fincher’s scary great direction of a scary excellent cast (Eisenberg’s defining performance so far) makes for a fascinating abstract character study of a celebrated monster, and of a society clamoring for an epoch defining invention. A powerfully effective score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross elevates its material even higher. In an age dominated by social media, it’s the most relevant movie of our zeitgeist, other than…

1. Her (2013)-
Great, timeless works aren’t always recognized as such upon release. When Casablanca was released in 1942, it had solid, if underwhelming results, both critically and commercially. It would take a decade or so before its popularity took off and its generational appeal was felt. Her had a similar effect on me- with a little distance and reflection upon a repeat viewing, it felt inevitable placing it here. Her’s story of a lonely divorcee (Joaquin Phoenix, my pick for actor of the decade), falling for their artificial intelligence computer, is even more relevant today than when it was released- only time will tell just how prescient it is. Its fictional story, lacking in a biographical expose kind of way (see #2 above), is what makes the experience that much more universal. After expertly depicting the growing pains of male adolescence in 2009’s Where the Wild Things Are, director Spike Jonze is able to even more crystalize that feeling of not being able to control how head over heels you feel about someone you’re falling in love with- despite some reservations. One of the most intimate movies you’ll ever see where a character has a relationship with something lacking an actual body, it bravely doesn’t hide the ugly truth when it comes to the potential outcomes of relationships. Unlike say, Blade Runner 2049, efforts were made to not depict the setting as mere dystopian science fiction, and the results function more as a powerful romantic drama. A sublime treat, possessing both craft and a delicate heart, its place in history will only be known in the future- one increasingly dominated by technology.

The Social Network

2010’s The Social Network, directed by David Fincher.

Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Armie Hammer, Justin Timberlake, Rooney Mara, Max Minghella, Rashida Jones, Joseph Mazzello, John Getz, and David Selby.

Winner of an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay (Aaron Sorkin), Best Original Score (Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross), and Best Film Editing (Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall).

Nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture, Best Director (David Fincher), Best Actor (Jesse Eisenberg), Best Cinematography (Jeff Cronenweth), and Best Sound Mixing (Ren Klyce, David Parker, Michael Semanick, and Mark Weingarten).

What is it about?

Harvard technology student Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) wants to create a social media site in order to boost his popularity. He and his best friend, Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield), create a website called, TheFacebook, but it does a lot more than just add to their friend lists. With new enemies such as the Winklevoss twins (Armie Hammer, twice) suing for intellectual property theft, and rogues such as Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake) trying to get in on the action, Zuckerberg’s prickly personality could be due for a reckoning as the age of social media takes off.

Why is it worth seeing?

Director David Fincher has said that he considers the majority of mankind to function as perverts, and his specialty has always been in creating environments in which his characters can let their freak flag fly. From a biblically inspired serial killer, to a nobody who unknowingly invents a make believe alter ego, to a male who ages backwards- strange dysfunction reigns supreme in the Fincherverse. But what if his protagonist was based on a real person- and it barely scratched the surface of how perverse they are? It’s not that the creator of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg- already one of the most influential people of this young century, is shown here in a flattering light- but if it’s a damning enough allegory, a portrait of the artist as a young troll.


With the 2010’s decade coming to a close, it’s safe to say that few companies have come to influence and dominate society the way that Facebook has. With billions of users utilizing the site for a variety of purposes, news continues to circulate, of wanton privacy breaches, of the company helping to influence elections and sell user information, and the creator’s toxic personality itself. Surely there are some deeply concerning aspects to the company’s functioning, of which the creator and CEO Zuckerberg is responsible for. While Social Network is based off of the 2009 book, The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich (incidentally not recommended), it’s not so much a photo realistic portrait of Zuckerberg, but more a coronation at the creation of a relatively new archetype- the troll. These individuals, seething with rage, at how they have to speak to other people that they don’t consider to be on their level, of an impatience for not being of certain social status, of a certain lust for blood for people not celebrating them when they log into a chat room. Cloaked in anonymity, they snidely attack until satisfied their defenceless victims are aware of their superiority. This film’s charms are in showing how one of these trolls publically craved domination, a digital Daniel Plainview of this century, who wanted to grow an empire that dwarfed everything else.


It would be difficult to make a movie about the creation of a social networking website without having scenes of people typing on computers dominate- the work that got the company started needs to be shown somehow. But Fincher, with the help of veteran screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, make a typically boring (and instantly dated) milieu of people staring at computer screens fascinating. Sorkin’s script, tighter than the air lock of a spaceship, is relentlessly fast (you can practically imagine the actors gasping for breath in between takes). Never difficult to follow, but always half sprinting, it creates a syntax much more entrancing than Hyper Text Markup Language and Java script could ever hope to be. Combined with Fincher’s typically obsessive engineer camera movements, and whip smart editing by Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall, it synthesizes a movie that juxtaposes 2 simultaneous lawsuits and a number of flashbacks with a heck of a lot of talking and typing, into something more akin to a verbal track meet. Keeping up with a movie that secretly goes all over the place is rarely this pleasurably hypnotic.

 
Centred squarely in the middle of the frame, is the film’s “hero”. Jesse Eisenberg, who as an actor was initially commented on as somewhat of an evolution of Woody Allen, with the nebbish and alternative style charm (minus the horrific real life controversies), here goes to a place so much more interesting, so much darker than Allen could ever hope to. Squinting at others with fury when he’s not brusquely ignoring them, in a rapid fire cadence, he condescends to school administrators, frat boys, and lawyers alike- he’s almost as unpleasant as he is lonely. Like Charles Kane, he knows of what he wanted but never could get, of what he wished for but could never create a code for- he just can’t get out of his way, and you love to hate him as you watch him bulldoze strangers and friends alike. His journey is all the more poisoned with Justin Timberlake’s underrated naturalness in his character of Sean Parker. Parker’s oily and techno maverick aspirations continually speak to his meal ticket fast friend’s obsessions, and the scene where he explains to Mark about how it’s their time, of handing business cards to the establishment for the purposes of flipping them off, is kinetic in its implications- and an all time scene. Also great, twice actually, is Armie Hammer’s portrayal of twins Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss. Playing rowing men of Harvard who walk a fine line between entitled and disappointed, they make great foils to represent the establishment that Zuckerberg so badly wants to thumb his nose at. It’s a real testament to the effects team that you never once question how the heck they pulled off having the same actor as 2 different characters interact continuously throughout the film. It could be argued that the film’s one weakness is that it lacks a heart, missing a character that is relatable- but that’s where Andrew Garfield’s portrayal of Eduardo Saverin is so key. Garfield’s humane openness, his slickly intelligent but shy and vulnerable portrayal of a dude who isn’t worried about fame or money- but just wants to have friends, is the film’s centre. He continually tries to be Mark’s friend, his partner, his wingman. Even with all that heart though- he still has a spine too. Rooney Mara dominates her few scenes in the film as well, absurdly overqualified for the amount of screen time she has. Really, there’s not a single false performance in the film.

15 years before The Social Network, Fincher directed Se7en, and teased in the opening credits how well Trent Reznor’s music jived with his material. Finally united for an entire project, composers Reznor and Attacus Ross, combine to create one of the best montages of the decade, the film’s electrifying opening third where Zuckerberg creates the Facemash app, in synch with a frat party. The lead up to the montage, with eerie escalating synth work, speaks to a dormant force discovering the full potency of its power. As in the film in general, it brings to question, not only of the history making players, with their wounded egos and twisted motivations, but also their clients, that of their customers, and the attitudes that made Facebook the successful application that it is today. Because despite all that has been said and done, people don’t seem ready to quit social media. After Zuckerberg was quoted as calling people “Dumb Fucks” for giving him their contact information, is there any reason to believe that he’ll finally step down, satisfied that he can finally stop and smell the computer coding? Only his image consultant team will let us know, via press release, for sure. The beauty of Social Network, a fictional portrait of a real phenomenon, with its snappy script, surgical editing, flawless performances, beautifully unnerving musical score, and bravura direction, is that it suggests it’s possible.

Rating:

5/5

Trailer: Click Here.

The Old Man and the Gun

2018’s The Old Man and the Gun, written and directed by David Lowery.

Starring Robert Redford, Casey Affleck, Sissy Spacek, Tika Sumpter, Tom Waits, Danny Glover, Ari Elizabeth Johnson, Teagan Johnson, and Gene Jones.

What is it about?

Octogenarian Forrest Tucker (Robert Redford), and his senior partners Wally (Tom Waits) and Teddy (Danny Glover), spend their time robbing banks. Despite their age, they’re quite prolific. However, Tucker’s exploits attract the attention of burnt out cop, John Hunt (Casey Affleck). Chasing Tucker seems to give him more of a connection to his wife, Maureen (Tika Sumpter), and 2 children (Ari Elizabeth Johnson and Teagan Johnson), but his focus on Tucker makes a new romance that Tucker is pursuing with Jewel (Sissy Spacek) all the more fraught. Will Forest be able to go gently into the night, or spend the rest of his golden years in a jail cell?

Why is it worth seeing?

A sentimental goodbye to a Hollywood icon, Old Man and the Gun’s attractions are in watching a couple of certified Hollywood legends pour on the charm. Watching the inimitable Redford woo Spacek, who just could be aging better than him herself, is a real treat. It’s in those eyes, still twinkling at yet another downplayed rascally quip, another subtle flirtation- always with such polite folksiness. Like her, we are helpless to his magnetism. As the real historical photographs and film footage of Redford testify, the guy’s always been a real looker, and the contrast with Redford’s current physical appearance, imbues the grain of the story with a pang of aging nostalgia.


However, its story, of the ultimate boomer’s swan song, doesn’t crackle with that same wit. It’s hard to come to grips with the film, so in love with its aging star, can’t reconcile a truth that his character continually runs but can never hide from- he’s actually a deadbeat. Sure, he’s always proper, always robs banks in a suit with a gentle smile, is always ready to give an incongruent and condescending piece of advice to trembling bank clerks or terrified carjacking victims of his (who have their children in the backseat). We find truths in his history- not the legend of how many prisons that he broke out from, or how many banks he robbed- but of family that he has abandoned, and not once does he indicate a shred of insight regarding his non negotiable human connection. He may lie about it- but that doesn’t make him any more sympathetic. It’s almost as if Jack Foley, George Clooney’s irresistible thief in Soderbergh’s 1998 masterpiece, Out of Sight, just barreled on for another 3 decades. But even Foley seemed to have the wisdom to admit that his lifestyle needed to be as bachelor-esque as possible, and he took care of his friends- and it was even in a different movie about robbery that he only lied about being a thief. Trying to frame Forest as a sympathetic (or even tragic) figure is a transaction denied.


Writer/Director David Lowery’s story also buckles whenever Redford isn’t on the screen. It wastes peak Tom Waits (watch for a hysterical scene where Redford and Glover try not to crack as Waits riffs on his thoughts on the holidays), and Affleck’s cop character, also feels under developed. Despite Affleck’s precocious children’s hammy attempts to describe how chasing Forest gives him a sense of purpose, he doesn’t really seem to have much. He starts off literally sleeping on the job, and except for a notable kitchen encounter with his wife, finishes as quietly as he was narcoleptic to start. It all takes us places that aren’t that worthy of remembering. Maybe it’s true that people don’t change, and that criminals can’t be rehabilitated. OK boomer.

Rating:

3/5

Trailer: Click Here.

The Tree of Life

2011’s Tree of Life, written and directed by Terrence Malick.

Starring Brad Pitt, Jessica Chastain, Hunter McCracken, Sean Penn, Laramie Eppler, Tye Sheridan, Fiona Shaw, and Joanna Going.

What is it about?

Set in 1950’s Waco, Texas, the 3 O’Brien boys of Jack (Hunter McCracken), R.L (Laramie Eppler), and Steve (Tye Sheridan) grow up in a household parented by their mother (Jessica Chastain), and father (Brad Pitt). As an adult, Jack (now played by Sean Penn) reminisces about his time growing up, of choosing a path between nature and grace, and reconciling his spirit’s quest for resolution. Will he be able to find peace in a universe as broad as it is deep?

Why is it worth seeing?

In the last century, Writer/Director Terrence Malick had a period of reclusion, going 2 decades between projects, before slowly beginning to increase the frequency of his output in the current millennium. The notoriously reclusive director would never confirm it, but one could surmise that his time away from Hollywood may have let him percolate future greatness. In a way, Tree of Life feels like the culmination of his career, in its dual sided tale of ambiguous (but always representational) religious allegory, and of a nuclear family living together in the 1950’s. As always, his use of voiceover combines with images of sublime natural wonder, as well as abstract shots of what could be the universe’s formation. The only thing more grand than its visual splendour, and its love of the poetic and the mystical, is its ambition.


That ambition, and culmination mentioned above, are no joke. Tree of Life’s comparisons to 2001: A Space Odyssey are appropriate, not necessarily for the cosmic images combined with classical music- so much as for the sheer reach of its creator. Malick’s love of the spiritual, an urging passionate voice influenced by its bifurcated influence of Christianity, is on full display. Its sequences, such as the luminous merging of atoms forming what could be the big bang’s formation, and dinosaurs roaming the earth, confirm that the film is all in in showing a type of timeless religious reverence to the earth that is mythology-making in all of its crystal clear formation. It’s Malick’s love of the internal voice (via character narration), of the universal ambiguousness of human experience, that works so well here (some would say before lapsing into self parody in future projects).

Life’s actual narrative structure, that of a young boy’s tale of adolescence, carries over several years, fracturing time in a way that makes it feel less concrete, demonstrated in glimpses that feel like reverent nostalgia- plumes of smoke being sprayed in a neighbourhood from a moving vehicle. Its central character’s journey, torn between the aspirations of an overly gentle mother and an overbearing father, speak to the wrestling in one’s own coming of age. Because of Malick’s love of abstraction, it doesn’t hit the same kind of specificity of a coming of age tale like Boyhood, but its artistic impulses and occasionally violent adolescent urges speak to a different struggle, that biblical (and more archetypal) characters could relate to. 


As Into the Wonder demonstrates, a Malick production can be lighter on its characters and narrative heft, and a tad heavy on the abstraction (what are Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain’s first names?)- but Tree of Life’s place in history is to adroitly  merge two things, that is, the macro and the micro, soughing forwards together through history.

Rating:

5/5

Trailer: Click Here.

The Irishman

2019’s The Irishman, directed by Martin Scorcese.

Starring Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Al Pacino, Ray Romano, , Stephen Graham, Jesse Plemons, Bobby Cannavale, Harvey Keitel, Aleksa Palladino, and Kathrine Narducci.

What is it about?

WWII Veteran Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) drives trucks and eventually begins skimming his deliveries to sell to organized crime. He meets up with mobster Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci) and begins to work for him, before meeting Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino) and getting involved with union movements. Sheeran is prized for his loyalty and consistency, but those qualities will be put to the test when Hoffa’s outspoken ways rub the power establishment the wrong way. Will Sheeran have good or bad memories of what was to come during his young turk days?

Why is it worth seeing?

Based off of the 2004 novel I heard You Paint Houses, The Irishman is the work of a confident auteur, now in his late 70’s, who has nothing left to prove. Unless of course, that auteur is trying to prove that he can make a film 3.5 hours long that’s still interesting. Filled with Scorcese flair, it moves similar to his previous genre gangster films- but features a new wrinkle (no pun intended)- consequence.


There’s a lot of consequential age in The Irishman. Sure, that’s demonstrated by a variety of geriatric Scorcese cast favourites, from De Niro to Pesci to Keitel, not to mention the addition of Pacino- all given various techniques to make them look younger throughout the extended flashback portions of the film. But as the film crawls towards its last third, their ages aren’t masked at all. Neither are the consequences of time- how it saps youth, fuels regret, and takes loved ones from us. While the first two thirds play somewhat like the third chapter of an unofficial Goodfellas/Casino trilogy (and their respective energies), its last third is some of the most sorrowful and mournful work Scorcese has ever done, more comparable to his quieter (and profound) works like Silence and Kundun.


Look, I swear I have an attention span. But a 3.5 hours run time will be challenging for some viewers. Ironically, it’s the first two thirds that threaten to drag, because they go to such familiar places in the Scorcese canon. Scorcese’s mastery of camera movement/close ups of inanimate objects, juxtaposed with habits of accompanying rock music, support familiar tropes of bad men making bad choices, for the sake of gaining power, or keeping it. Inevitably a loose cannon has to be contained, because, well, we did all that we could, but… you know. It’s the Rolling Stones playing their hits all over again, which can get old. Its story also follows Scorcese’s less welcome habits of shoving women firmly into the background (in particular, Anna Paquin is especially wasted, as one of the scornful daughters of De Niro), trapped in a zero sum man’s world. Finally, the addition of Pacino, results in a performance more reminiscent of his more overt 90’s grandstanding (and occasionally even Big Boy Caprice mannerisms).


What I could use even more of, is Pesci’s performance. Yet again, Scorcese was able to coax a dynamite performance out of an actor who previously said that they were done with acting, a retired actor whisperer if there ever was one. Pesci speaks quietly and economically, barely a hint of the over the top menace that he previously won an Oscar for- and it couldn’t resonate louder. The rest of the cast is great as well, a real coup for the casting director. As mentioned above, people may come for an opportunity to witness the greatest hits played yet again, but The Irishman’s greatest achievement is in its feeling of ramifications, first manifested in a tension of not wanting something to happen, followed by the regret that it did. To know it is to be sad. To watch it is divine.

Rating:

4/5

Trailer: Click Here.

The Art of Self Defense

2019’s The Art of Self Defense, written and directed by Riley Stearns.

Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Alessandro Nivola, Imogen Poots, David Zellner, Phillip Andre Botello, Steve Terada, Hauke Bahr, Jason Burkey, and Justin Eaton.

What is it about?

Mid 30’s accountant Casey (Jesse Eisenberg) is socially ill at ease, and has little control over his life. Bullied and ignored at his job, and with only his dog to keep him company, one night he is hospitalized after being attacked and mugged. Unable to take it anymore, he enrolls in a karate class. Taught by a quietly menacing sensei (Alessandro Nivola), Casey gets to know his fellow students, such as the kind hearted Henry (David Zellner), and accomplished but undervalued Anna (Imogen Poots). Casey begins to gain confidence and alter his way of looking at the world, but also starts to learn about the potential drawbacks of the dojo.

Why is it worth seeing?

Fans of deadpan comedy will find few faults with Self Defense’s humour. In a style similar to 2018’s Sorry to Bother You, it respects its audience in refusing to explain when it’s appropriate to laugh. Surreal and dark, each straight faced encounter between its characters is another exercise in daring one not to guffaw at some of the bizarre scenarios presented. Filled with throwaway sight and audio gags, it never distracts from the movie’s central question- who doesn’t find toxic masculinity funny?


A compellingly strange film needs a lead that is attuned to its clunky rhythm. Historically, lead actor Jesse Eisenberg often has his troubles moving past his inherent nebbishness. It just means that he is far more at home in roles playing irascible trolls like Mark Zuckerberg or even Lex Luthor, than more likable souls such as David Lipsky or Columbus (bonus points to him giving several shirtless scenes and having virtually no signs of athletic prowess). In his role of Casey (which another character drolly explains is a very feminine sounding name), he has found his comfort place. Tightly wound but completely impotent, he is a guy who burns hot- just as soon as he figures out how to speak to people. As well, Imogen Poots (who after Green Room is threatening to start a steak after appearing in yet another solid film with bad hair), and Alessandro Nivola, are solid as the senior members of the dojo who belong to an unjust hierarchy.

Comedic beats and well placed casting established, it’s the unstable but liberating realm of toxic masculinity that inevitably bring up Fight Club comparisons. As in that film, we witness a loser who self actualizes through some form of combat with others, and in the larger picture, finds a cause that compels him to want to get out of bed in the morning. In the film’s hilarious but plain styled depiction, writer/director Riley Stearns doesn’t have David Fincher’s gravitas or exacting precision- but his ball peen hammer-to-the-knee script’s conclusion brings a sense of completion that the 1999 masterpiece couldn’t coax. Self Defense’s lack of hall of fame pyrotechnics (and further lack of controversy!) is what gives it its solidarity, a lower floor that allows for the final act’s higher ceiling. Another feature it shares with the Edward Norton/Brad Pitt vehicle, is the revealing of a corrupt world that originally felt purified at the start of the journey. Here, it echoes the corruption of society in its occasional entrenched hopelessness- and subsequent calls for a radical solution that the purest of zealots, and the film itself, do not shy away from. Awash in a world that gets more perverse the further one goes, the screenplay’s direction goes to surprising places that are as commendable as they are inspiring. It’s atypical, to be surprised by a film’s choices in its characters’ journeys- and enjoyable. To miss out on a film so packed with originality, laughs, and an actual viewpoint on how the end could justifies the means, there is simply no defence for.

Rating:

4/5

Trailer: Click Here.

Zombieland 2: Double Tap

2019’s Zombieland 2: Double Tap, directed by Ruben Fleischer.

Starring Woody Harrelson, Jesse Eisenberg, Emma Stone, Abigail Breslin, Zoey Deutch, Rosario Dawson, Avan Jogia, Luke Wilson, Thomas Middleditch, and Bill Murray.

What is it about?

Set in the present after a zombie apocalypse, mankind is an endangered species and far flung in between masses of zombie hordes. Survivors Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg), Wichita (Emma Stone), and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin) return to kick more zombie ass and argue with one another. But after a successful occupation of the now defunct White House, the group begins to grow restless. Little Rock wants to spread her wings and enjoy her young adulthood, while Wichita chafes from the proposed affections of Columbus. It leads to Little Rock going missing after meeting an unemployed pacifist who at one point attended college, and the group travels across hostile territory find her. They add to their ranks when they stumble across Madison (Zoey Deutch), who despite her humble origin story may be more resilient than the gang believes, and the zombie hijinks continue as the group tries to find Little Rock in Babylon.

Why is it worth seeing?

No zombie/borderline horror franchise celebrates the value of rules as much as Zombieland. Peppered throughout the pair of outings, literally on the screen, are the various commands that the more nebbish characters embrace to not only stay alive, but pay homage to the countless zombie films that came before it, and maintain that dorky sense of je ne sais quoi, that it so fervently cherishes. As the film’s opening credits establish, there is no greater fun than that of the brain bashing of the undead, and several times the film depicts the grisly individual acts that warrant such frivolous awards such as Zombie Kill of the Year. Despite a film featuring a great deal of squashed brains, it’s best not to think about it too hard- you may develop a headache from the lack of gray matter. You could also miss some of the laughs.


Allegedly chief among the evolution that the film pays homage to, is that of developing zombies. Explaining lovingly (and graphically) in the beginning of the film, we see that the zombies have developed into smarter and faster versions of themselves. In theory, it should up the stakes- but little seems to disturb the gang’s happy go lucky vibes. That is, until the comedic highlight of the middle act- the introduction of Tallahassee and Columbus’ semi-clones, that of Albuquerque (Luke Wilson), and Flagstaff (Thomas Middleditch). The resulting conversations, mediated by Nevada (a welcome Rosario Dawson), are comedic gold. Also pleasurable, is Zoey Deutch’s take on the character of Madison. While initially her valley girl mannerisms are enough to grate one’s teeth, she grows on you and is highly underrated.

In fact, for a (at times) gory zombie film, it’s surprising how much love there is for the human characters. While it’s commonplace to feature the running undead getting deader from the living than ever through various violent techniques, the sequel has great love for humans of all stripes. However misleading, its tacit mission statement may be as well meaning as the no weapons rule of the hippy cult the characters find themselves trapped in. It’s sweet to see- and further throws into contrast other zombie IP that focuses more on the realistic implications of what a zombie apocalypse (lonely, desperate, and brutal comes to mind) would bother to look and feel like.  


Packed with images of zombies lovingly getting disemboweled and squashed, don’t bother thinking about the gaggle of logistics and real world impossibilities of the film (it has to set a world record for longest scenes of people driving without actually looking at the road, and I’m not sure how electricity still works), not to mention casting challenges (such as Jesse Eisenberg being charming, Emma Stone being jealous and sarcastic, and Woody Harrellson trying to convince us he’s physically up for the rigours of going up and down stairs)- instead, stay for the film’s love of its characters, the welcome comedic banter, and end credit’s Garfield tribute. You’ll never want to get Murray’d again.

Rating:

3.5/5

Trailer: Click Here.