Wes Anderson's THE ISLE OF DOGS (2018): Movie Review

There are few working directors whose entire filmography is so uniquely stylized that the man or woman behind the camera becomes a genre onto themselves and Wes Anderson is perhaps the most grandiose example of that fact. His last three films; The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), Moonrise Kingdom (2012), & The Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) have each been masterful productions of Wes Anderson and his latest film, The Isle of Dogs (2018), is no exception. Like The Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Isle of Dogs is a work of stop-motion animation that fits so snuggly in Wes Anderson’s unique brand of visual storytelling. The film’s plot is relatively simple but by no means is it any less layered or complex than any of this other screenplays. And if you hadn’t guessed already, it looks incredible from start to finish. Wes Anderson has become one those directors audiences either love or hate so for those who already love ’his work you’ve probably already seen the movie or are planning on seeing it already. But if that's the case then just let me say this I think this may be an (if not the) perfect Wes Anderson film. At least that’s what I’m telling myself in preemptive justification while I catch two-three more screenings in theaters whilst I can.

Much like Wes Anderson’s last animated extravaganza, The Isle of Dogstakes place in the dystopian story-book fantasy city of Megasaki; a fictional metropolis in the not-so-distant future of Japan. Here the duplicitous Mayor Kobayashi issues an immediate deportation of all inner city canines to an island of trash and despair where survival is as vital as it is brutal. The island is invaded, however, by twelve-year-old Atari Kobayashi (voiced by Koyu Rankin) in a hijacked airplane in search of his banished best friend Spots. Upon landing on Trash Island Atari befriends a pack of “scary indestructible alpha dogs” who are all good boys at heart (same as all dogs, really) voiced by Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Bill Murray, & Jeff Goldblum respectably. The pack agrees to help the little pilot, and from there the plot bisects into two parallel narratives; one following Atari and the dogs on a hero’s journey rescue mission which is presented wonderfully with enough action and emotional moments that you’ll forget at times that your getting worked up over literal puppets. The second follows an American foreign exchange student Tracy Walker (Greta Gerwig) using her wits and persistence as a junior sleuth in search of the truth behind Mayor Kobayashi’s deplorable decree. Both stories intersect in the third act that brings everything and everyone together in a satisfying conglomerate of a conclusion that feels as earned as it is whimsically sweet. Tonally it has everything you’d expect from Wes at this point by structurally this is one his most imaginative and “out there” tales that audiences of all ages should be able to find immense joy and entertainment.

And speaking of value, if this film’s total artistic worth could be converted into coins, it’d have its own vault at Gringotts that would be guarded 24/7 by a legendary hydra with seven heads of Bill Murray. Anyway, film positives; the editing/cinematography is silky-smooth in that typical flat-composition style that Wes Anderson adores so much and lo and behold, it translates flawlessly into animation. Though I’ve only had one screening of this beautiful, beautiful film, I was utterly blown away by the sheer craftsmanship that went into this production. Everything from sets to the lighting to the way in which each dog puppet acts and moves like a real animal is an absolute joy to bear witness. And when you take into consideration that it took Wes’s team four years to complete the animation process with roughly 3 seconds of usable footage taken for every 10-12 hour day, it makes every minute detail feel that much more magnificent. As I’ve mentioned before, the story is genuinely brilliant despite being relatively simple. None of its messages or reveals are overly complicated, but that’s all due to Anderson’s ability to plant vital information to the plot early on but disguising them as his own brand of quirky comedy. This may also be the most emotional Wes Anderson film (for me). Wes Anderson has always made his movies to be reflective of profound and troubled emotional truths but choices to have his characters give this information honestly and drolly, a trait which as now become sinuous with Wes’s “style.” I suppose one could argue that this dissonance of speaking openly in such an emotionally detached way is stylistic for the sake of being stylistic but in this film, only the dogs ever talk in such a way. Everyone other human character speaks with very prominent emotion, which helps when the bulk of one’s human cast members primarily speak in non-subtitled Japanese, but it also drives home the predicament of the dogs themselves. It makes sense why man’s best friend would talk like, well, a Wes Anderson character because of the situation in which the film has put them in. This makes the emotional connection snap almost instantly as you feel the pain these good boys feel when they engage in Steinbeckian dialogues about their favorite foods and old owners. And finally I’d like to gush briefly about a sequence of scenes that caught my attention; each was shot with a long take of some action without dialogue or music. Each scene was an impressive display of art and animation on their own, but upon reflection, I found that they not only looked cool but were integral to the plot. What’s more is that I found myself playing out these scenes in my head as if they were a kind of visual haiku and it worked. This may indeed just be me projecting greater artistic significance to a few isolated scenes that I liked but seeing as how this film incorporated trunk loads of uniquely Japanese customs (including haiku poems) I wouldn’t be surprised if he did something like that on purpose. This is after all the same guy who bought an actual 1958 British minesweeper ship for The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou; I wouldn’t put anything past the guy.

As a Wes Anderson fan, it’s hard to compare his newest film to the others in his repertoire. I didn’t have as much fun as I did with Fantastic Mister Fox. Nor I wasn’t charmed like I was at the end of The Grand Budapest Hotel. And I certainly didn’t fall in love as I did for Moonrise Kingdom, but out of all my favorite Wes Anderson films, I don’t think I was ever as impressed as I was for The Isle of Dogs. If you were to judge this film solely on the merits of being a movie you’d still have one humdinger of a picture; with heaps and HEAPS of Wes Anderson whimsy frosted on for flavoring. Wes Anderson has been noted as being a “connoisseur of life,” and one can see that in his films as each picture is saturated with things Wes finds interesting. The Isle of Dogs is Anderson’s homage and a love letter to all things Japanese from art, music, movies, theatre, food, stories, and more. While that’s to be expected from a Wes Anderson movie taking place in Japan what’s most impressive is his ability to craft a story that not only fits so perfectly in its world it stands on its own four legs as a brilliant and emotionally rich story that can only be described as beautiful. This is one of those movies that progressively gets better and better the more you think about it, and I’m sure the same can be said for repetitive viewings. The Isle of Dogs is currently playing at the Varsity theatre in downtown Davis, so be sure to catch as many screenings while you still can.

READY PLAYER ONE (2018): Movie Review

I’ll be honest; I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ready Player One, the newest courtesan to Hollywood grandmaster Steven Spielberg’s harem of family-friendly adventure fantasy films, up on the big screen. No, I haven’t anything against the man for the vast majorityof his features are nothing short of fantastic (with exceptions to Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and 1941), I simply just wasn’t all that jazzed up for Ready Player One’s premise. I still haven’t read the novel by Ernest Cline, but from what I gathered from the marketing and trailers it seemed like yet another cinematic hero’s journey structured as a Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory-esque wish-fulfillment fantasy with all the sweets replaced by video game/retro pop-culture icons. Now while that all sounds chaotically amazeballs on paper I was still somewhat skeptical of how the whole picture would turn out; and you know what? I had a total blast! Once again Spielberg has proven himself as the crown king of whimsically potent visual storytelling and has produced a cinematic adventure that’s so remarkably fluid and fun that I still feel silly for doubting him in the first place.

Ready Player One takes place in the not-so-distant future of 2045 where virtual reality has not only been perfected but has also become the single most potent global economy as everyone on the planet would rather escape reality than have to deal with it face on. So yeah, just replace the “internet” with the “oasis,” and you have a two and a half hour long family-friendly black mirror episode complete with cybernetic Orwellian labor camps and giant Anime robots. As the film kicks off we were given a brief “history” of the Oasis’s construction and creator, James Halliday played by Mark Rylance, whose death reveals an “Easter egg” that will bestow a vast fortune and complete control of the Oasis to whoever finds it first. From there the plot follows the basic structure of any video game adventure in which our main characters must go through challenges, riddles, and tribulations against the cartoonishly evil forces of corporate CEO who want the egg for their evil corporate plan to add micro transactions to the Oasis. Regrettably, this is the weakest aspect of the film, but it’s hard to blame the filmmakers for making a said decision in the first place. The film is an adventure fantasy for the whole family, after all and a proper one at that. Spielberg understands that flow and pacing are tantamount to the adventure, especially when considering that it’s being told through the visual medium of film. Ready Player One’s story may have all the layered complexity of a simpleton bashing a couple of bricks together but that way the audience can focus on the visuals carrying the narrative.

Now while Ready Player One’s central conflict/story is cliched and predictable, just about everything else in the film is utterly dazzling. The visuals alone would be worthy of appraisal, but Spielberg isn’t the sort of director to throw up expertly rendered globs of CGI characters on the screen and leave it at that. Oh no, he takes full advantage of the fact that the majority of this movie takes place entirely in a computer-generated environment where the “camera” can do and follow whatever Spielberg wants, and often to significant effect. There are many eye-catching sequences that are so fluid that it’s nothing less than magical to behold. It should surprise no one at this point that Spielberg would prioritize unusual long takes of action sequences (both for live action and CGI), but here it feels like he’s truly in his element and the result is a film that I found stupefying engaging. The acting performances were solid, though nothing stood out to me as anything inordinately memorable. Though upon reflection Mark Rylance did impress me as the socially awkward Halliday, who at times was so vocally awarded that I forgot Rylance was an actual actor and not just some weird extra you might find on Tim and Eric. The film’s action scenes are ridiculously over the top and cartoonish but so simultaneously imaginative in its design and free-flowing motion that I was never bored. I was also pleasantly surprised at the amount of character development within the film, granted most of it’s given to Rylance and the other three main characters in considerably smaller bits but it’s there, and I remembered it so that counts for something. And finally, Ready Player One has one of, if not the best homages to horror in a non-horror film.

As you might imagine, Ready Player One is still a flawed film, as is the case for most wish fulfillment fantasy-adventures. I’ve already touched on the film’s unoriginal story/ethos though I wouldn’t at all be surprised if that was the whole point of a fiction comprised of trunkloads of other creator’s intellectuals property. Occasionally the dialogue would incite a mental groan whenever a character pointed out the name of an onscreen pop culture cameo or divulged into “we have to say this specific thing because it’s convent to the plot-line.” And it wouldn’t be a family friendly Spielberg movie without a few metric-tons cheesy cinematic catharsis dumped on us as the film wraps up but unless your explosively lactose intolerant, it’s not all that annoying. What is, however, is Ben Mendelsohn’s performance as the evil CEO Sorrento whose so villainous I was almost disappointed when his virtual self didn’t resemble a twelve-foot tall Dick Dastardly with a mustache made out of mini-Mussolini. Other than that, there’s not much else wrong with Ready Player One unless you’re of the sort who absolutely cannot stand a movie with a story structure ripped straight out of a Saturday morning cartoon.

Ready Player One is exactly the kind of movie you should expect from Spielberg. Now that I’ve thought about it I can’t help but be reminded of The Adventures of Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn, the 2011 animated film directed by Spielberg. Both movies are terrific adventure spectacles and adequately showcase their director’s visual prestige but Ready Player One does it better. That may be because Ready Player One’s ethos is a bit more in line with Spielberg’s, which is centered around high adventure and an appreciation for the pop culture of one’s youth. Granted, the film may suffer from it’s simple good vs. evil dynamic but for whatever reason, it works in the long haul.  Spielberg’s success as a filmmaker has been built on his sincere ability to mix childlike wonderment with the complex fetes of cinematography and editing and Ready Player One fits that mold flawlessly. The plot’s simple but never holds the audience in contempt, and the result is an experience that so unabashedly fun that you almost forget that movies don’t have to sacrifice visual intricacies for the sake of entertainment. Ready Player One is one of the most enjoyable works of cinema I’ve seen in the theatre in a long time that’s purely attributed to Spielberg’s illustrious shooting style, and creative team. If you’re gunning for a fun weekend adventure movie thrill ride then you should at least see the one that’s exceptionally well made.

ANNIHILATION (2018): Movie Review

This week I had the pleasure of seeing Annihilation, the second feature film of writer/director by Alex Garland. You might remember him from his directorial debut with Ex Machina (2013). Annihilation is a strange, emphatic, and nihilistic science fiction tale of horror, and seeing as I am an enormous fan of everything in that sentence it should come as no surprise that Garland’s latest film (in my opinion) is one hell of a cinematic experience! With that being said, Annihilation is NOT for all audiences. There’s more than a few scenes featuring gruesome granger that will undoubtedly stick in the nightmares of those who are faint of heart, and the narrative makes for many unanswered questions. I LOVE when movies leave themselves open to interpretation, but I know not everyone feels the same way so if you consider yourself squeamish and prefer your movies with clearcut conclusions then stay far away from this one. But if you enjoy “hard” science fiction stories that challenges the audience and is so ensanguined with Lovecraftian cosmic horror that the screen’s practically sporting tentacles then why are you still reading this review? GO SEE IT WHILE IT’S STILL IN THEATERS!!!

Now this is usually the part were I give a brief overview of the plot but in lies a dilemma; it’s nearly impossible to further discuss the plot of Annihilation without spoiling any key discovers or twists the film has in store for the viewer. Much of my enjoyment from watching Annihilation came from the various revelations presented throughout the film as they not only carried the plot forward but also made for some in-depth character development. I can say that Natalie Portman’s character is a soldier turned biologist who sets out on an expedition into an anomaly called, “The Shimmer,” with a team of fellow gun-totting female scientists. The mission of Portman’s platoon is to traverse the anomaly and figure out what it’s doing, how, and why. That’s all you’re going to get out of me if that sounds interesting then see the movie (or check out the book of the same name by Jeff Vandermeer). 

There are many, many, MANY standalone aspects of Annihilation that’s worthy of appraisal, so let’s jump right into some. To start with, the visuals (once inside the Shimmer) are breathtaking. The film’s American bayou setting makes for many exterior set pieces that are so rich with organic life that’s just as tranquil as it is spine-chilling. It would seem that much of the art direction’s inspiration has blossomed from the microscopic/macroscopic world, specifically with regards to cellular mutations and necrosis, and it works to such great avail. The film also excels in its ability to craft new and unique elements of horror that I’ve never seen before (and this is coming from an individual whose prides himself on being a “horror junkie”). Apart from some top-notch creature designs and grotesquely satisfying gore, there are images and sequences that are so unique, vibrant and fear-inducing that they could double as modern art. Also, this film has one of the most unnerving soundtracks I’ve ever listened too for a big budget film of this caliber (and trust me, that’s a positive). I found Natalie Portman’s performance similar to how she carried herself in Black Swan (2010), in that she plays a complex individual with a truckload of emotional baggage, leaving little room for any smiles or joy. The rest of the cast perform their roles appropriately though it seems that everyone’s been taking notes from the Wes Anderson school for acting; where everyone talks and acts like their either tired or are in desperate need of a Prozac refill. Now I have no problem with movies whose entire cast compresses of depressed or droll characters so long as they have something interesting to do and say and they certainly do interesting things, I just wish the dialogue was given a similar treatment. Yes, despite all my gargling veneration for everything Annihilation does right, it cannot hold a candle to whichever patron saint is responsible for decent dialogue. That’s not to say that the film’s talking moments are all poorly written, it’s just that I found myself having a much better time watching the movie when it was utterly silent. There are a handful of eye-rolling character lines and a few moments where characters say things solely to inform the audience of what and when to pay attention. Fortunately, these moments are few and far between but stand out like a six-foot bas-relief sculpture of Baphomet at a Church bizarre. The color pallet for the first act is also pretty ugly, though I would guess that this was an intentional choice as it did make the environment within the Shimmer all the more eye-catching. Also, there aren’t any answers to the more prominent mysteries brought up in the film.

As a whole, Annihilation is one of those unique breeds of science fiction cinema; the kind that will undoubtedly amass a cult following some 10 or so years down the line for its originality and gallant leap into the abstract. It’s a mesmerizing modern take of the “through the looking glass,” kind of story where the physical (and biological) laws of reality are twisted, bent, and stretched so far that anything resembling the empirical becomes ethereal, and dreams become a reality. Annihilation is the kind of film that’s almost guaranteed to hold one’s attention from start to finish and leaves you feeling cinematically satisfied and cognitively enriched. If you’re a fan of hardcore science fiction, Lovecraftian horror, or just want to see something rich in creative liberties then go check out Annihilation while it’s still playing at the Regal Davis Stadium 5 on G St. 

Ft. (left to right) Jennifer Jason Leigh, Natalie Portman, Tuva Novotny, Sonoya Mizuno, & Gina Rodriguez

THE GREATEST SHOWMAN (2018): Movie Review

Alright, let’s get the harsh stuff out of the way first. This film is NOT about the life and times of the self-made 19^th-century showman, entrepreneur, and civil rights activist, Phineas Taylor Barnum. The Greatest Showman is a romanticize “follow your dreams,” movie musical starring Hugh Jackman as P.T. Barnum’s superego; specifically focusing on Barnum’s creation in a little venture that would eventually become the world-renowned Barnum & Bailey Circus. Now if you’ve paid any attention to the film’s marketing, you might’ve gathered that historical authenticity has been not so subtly replaced with a brand of magical realism common in many musicals of Hollywood. The “twist,” (I suppose) is that while the film takes place in the late 1800’s, the music and dance is anachronistic with an emphasis on a more contemporary arena rock/pop music sound. In many regards, The Greatest Showman is almost identical to Baz Luhrmann’s 2001 movie musical, Moulin Rouge! (2001), except for the fact that The Greatest Showman is good. Director Michael Gracey has made a wonderfully shot and brilliantly executed cinematic cabaret of charismatic actors, mellifluous vocalists, and ebullient dancers. This production is one of those rare occasions where the film’s alteration of its source material both heightens the viewing experience but also contributes to the ideals and vocations of P.T. Barnum. The Greatest Showman may be leaning more towards the “fictional” end of historical fiction, but it’s still an impressive feat of cinematic entertainment that’s sure to instill a feeling of childlike wonderment in your heart long after the credits stop rolling.

As you might’ve guessed The Greatest Showman’s plot follows the watered down life story of P.T. Barnum. In life, Barnum coined the phrase, “a sucker’s born every minute,” and much of his fame and fortune came from his stint as an impresario for hoaxes and attractions of an “unconventional” nature. Hugh Jackman’s character never once uses Barnum’s most famous motto, but I suppose that wouldn’t be the most paragon thing to come out of a “likable” protagonist’s mouth. They still managed to make Jackman’s Barnum a con artist with unparalleled powers of persuasion and manipulation; which is fitting when you consider how Barnum was known as the “Shakespeare of Advertising,” and whose marketing tactics are still largely used by modern advertisers, snake oil salesmen, and politicians alike! Jackman’s Barnum is charming, industrious, and just want’s to give his family the prosperous life he never had by entering showbiz, which makes him thoroughly likable throughout the film, though at times Jackman’s infallibility can come across as being a little too unrealistically glamorized. I would’ve been more aggravated at the “Disneyfication” of the story’s source material but then again, the real P.T. Barnum was known for putting on family friendly version of popular plays and historical retellings; and now you know where Disney’s secret to success originated. The rest of the plot is unfortunately pretty simple and predictable if you’ve seen more than five feature film in your lifetime, but one should note that this IS a movie musical first and the “story” is more of a way to string the song and dance numbers into a coherent set of sequences. That’s not to say that the story or its presentation is bad, both handled well and at no point insult your intelligence; it’s clear that a lot of thought and effort was put into every facet of this production, and the final product is a testament to that.

There are quite a few things The Greatest Showman does incredibly well, which is only made all the more impressive when to take into consideration that this is Michael Gracey’s directorial debut. When the camera’s in motion the cinematography’s smooth and fluid but still feels sharp and precise which makes for a very satisfying ocular experience. There where some segments so expertly shot, edited, and synced to the music that at numerous time I gasped out loud, much to my fiancé’s amusement. And speaking of amusement, there are some truly impressive vignettes of human abilities. The choreography’s excitingly fiery and diverse with multitalented performers of physical and musical expertise. Put all that together with an outstanding set of original songs by John Debney and Joseph Trapanese, and you’ve got a pretty damn good cinematic adaptation of the “hot-dad” version of P.T. Barnum’s superego. That being said, it is a wee bit silly seeing Huge Jackman’s portrayal of a man whose primary cinematic fault is that he’s a little too committed to his dream (of profiting off the exploitation of social outcasts, endangered species, and the differently abled). I can’t fault the film too much on overshadowing the more shady business practices of P.T. Barnum to strengthen the movie’s messages on acceptance, confidence, and finding strength in unity, but it almost seems like Jackman’s Barnum is going for straight up sainthood. The Greatest Showman is a movie that’s more about empowerment, following your dreams, and embracing the misunderstood quirks that make us who we are against the dismay of the more close-minded and outwardly cynical members of society. The Greatest Showman may not be the greatest representation of the real P.T. Barnum or his Circus, it’s a feel-good movie whose primary goal is to razzle-dazzle its audience, and it does so masterfully.

The Greatest Showman is as far from a dramatic character piece as one can get and I’m sure that it will rub some audiences the wrong way, but that would defeat the film’s ultimate purpose of bringing smiles to its spectators. It’s a film that clearly knows what it is and who it’s for; a bombastic romanticization of the ideals and spirit behind P.T. Barnum told through the lens of an 21st century circus extravaganza. The song and dance routines are exquisite in every aspect and keep the film chugging along like a tip-top locomotive and is worth the price of admission on their own. The Greatest Showman captures that extravagantly over the top energy and presentation that bade Barnum & Bailey’s circus shows world-renowned and will be sure to bring out a sense of horripilation and joy from which we honestly could all benefit from. The Greatest Showman is currently playing at the Regal Davis Stadium 5 theatre on G Street in downtown Davis.

BLACK PANTHER (2018): Movie Review

I'll admit that I wasn’t all too excited about Marvel’s Black Panther at first. I’ve nothing against the character or creative team behind the comic’s big screen adaptation. I’m just starting to get a little burnt out from all these Hollywood superhero movies, though I’m still holding out for The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. Despite everything I just said I still went into Black Panther because my superhero-movie tolerance hasn’t completely eroded (yet) and because I knew nothing of the production. I hadn’t even seen a trailer (on my own volition as I’m trying to avoid them for films I want to see), and I believe going in blind and with neutral expectations was the right way to go. I ended up enjoying Black Panther far more than the majority of MCU films I’ve seen (though Thor Ragnarok is still my absolute favorite thanks to director Taika Waititi) and was ultimately captivated at Black Panther’s uniqueness and maturity. If you’re still unfazed by superhero movie fatigue, then check out Black Panther, though it may heighten your standards for the superhero genre (sorry DC). 

Black Panther’s story takes place shortly afar the events of Captain America: Civil War (2016), and if you’ve forgotten the events of that movie  (other than the parts where everyone’s fumbling all over each other like marionettes tumbling in a dryer), then you’re in luck! Black Panther’s story has almost no connection to any of the other MCU movies so you can just jump right in. The film follows Chadwick Boseman as T’Challa, the new King to the throne of the most technologically advanced civilization in the world, Wakanda; a hyper-advanced futuristic society hiding in plain sight as a third world African nation. Unlike most Marvel movies (or any superhero film for that matter), while there is a central character who carries the plot, the real focus of the film is Wakanda itself, and it makes for some genuinely fascinating storytelling. The main story of the film stems from the nation’s natural resources responsible for their technological processes; while the conflict deals with whether or not Wakanda should share said resources and tech with a world who might misuse it for greed, violence, and war. It’s a geopolitical quandary that I haven’t seen all that much in the wide world of cinema and it makes for a narrative that’s intriguing on its own right, but then there’s still a Hamlet-esque character arch with a man in a cyber-ninja-panther costume. Black Panther is one of the more complex and dynamic cinematic superhero pictures, and it makes for the most engaging Marvel movie I’ve seen.

Apart from having the best MCU plot, Black Panther’s also one of the most visually stunning cinematic experiences derived from a comic book property. The art direction, in particular, caught my attention with everything from the sets to the props and costumes being so vibrant and eye-catching and it sucked me into the world. Boseman’s performance as the titular Black Panther was, for the most part, calm and collective but I found his acting capabilities most impressive while interacting with his fellow actors. Speaking of which, I was also more than a little surprised at well everyone else acted. Marvel movies typically aren’t the kind of film you watch for stellar acting performances (at least not in my experience), but here we are. Letitia Wright is delightfully charming as Shuri, Andy Serkis was an absolute joy to watch as the deliciously vile Klaue, and Michael B. Jordan was remarkably three-dimensional and was charismatic, intimidating, and empathetic simultaneously as Erik Warmonger. But by far the stand out performance of the film belongs to Danai Gurira as the formidable and commanding general Okoye, whose badassery eclipses that of John Wick, John McClane, and John Rambo combined. Old Hollywood machismo, eat your heart out!

I did have minor technical issues with the film, and I doubt they’ll matter to the majority of movie-goers, but they still stood out to me so by golly I’m gonna address them. First and foremost, the sound mixing was incredibly inconsistent. I don’t know if it’s because Marvel Studios needed all their heavyweight audio-FX people working on Avengers: Infinity Wars pt 1 and (sigh) Antman & The Wasp, or if they simply ran out of time before the film’s release. Either way, I found myself distracted by how some sound effects were too loud while others were too soft or nonexistent. There was more than a couple instances where something onscreen happened, but the total lack of any audio cues made for a kind of cognitive dissonance feeling in my brain. I also wasn’t all that impressed by the cinematography, granted it’s better than most MCU films, but I still wish Marvel (and Disney) would just allow their cinematographers to take more chances. The action scenes were also not that all impressive to me. The action’s not “bad,” per say, (cough-cough-JusticeLeague-cough-cough) but I’ve seen more impressive displays of superhuman combat from countless other movies. Though, to be honest, this complaint’s attributed to the fact that I simply found everything in Black Panther to be so much more engaging that every time an action scene commenced I found myself wanting the movie to go back to the world building and character interactions. 

Overall I didn’t end up frothing at the mouth in blissful adoration as I did so with Ragnarock, but I was infinitely more engrossed by Black Panther’s cas, mythology, story, and art than any other superhero film in recent memory. It told a different kind of story with a superb ensemble of talented actors and artists, and the end product is something that I believe most audiences will find thoughtful and entertaining. I hope that Marvel/Disney makes more standalone Black Panther movies with director Ryan Coogler, and keeps branching out into different stories for their comic book character’s cinematic counterparts. I seriously cannot express how much more excited I am for future Black Panther installments than I’ll ever be for another Antman movie.

G. Bruno Fischer (2018)

CAMERA GIRL, Ch 14: The Tomb of Saint Elliot

Chapter 14

The Tomb of Saint Elliot

It didn’t take long to locate Saint Elliot’s tomb among the thousand others in the mausoleum garden. In addition to being one of the morgue’s first aboveground sepulcher (and justly overrun with enchanting emerald lichen), it’s also the only crypt with a particularly decrepit wooden door and a welcome mat featuring a grotesquely splendorous ladybug wearing a Flemish straw hat. 

According to Slug, a caravanning fortuneteller ordered the tomb’s erection for five hundred dollars, cash. However, before she could assess the final edifice, Madam Saint Elliot perished in the 4th great Merryhill brothelfire of 1769. At that point the crypt was already 92% finished but without a body to entomb (save for a fistful of ash) and no one alive or willing to acquest it, the tomb remained incomplete and unoccupied for some time. The 21st century yielded a couple of odd girls who commandeered it for a clubhouse before the morgue finally converted it into a walk-in gardening shed. It might’ve taken a decade and some change but the prodigal daughters of Saint Elliot’s tomb had finally returned.  

“I don’t recall it being so weensy,” sneers Nora, frowning loudly.

“I can’t believe it still reeks rotting fruit and rat turds,” Slug coughs plugging her nose.

Slug’s leg fires forth like a Mark 14 torpedo, bashing the crypt door inward nearly off its hinges.  

Nora gazes vacantly into the abyss beyond the tomb, like a deep sea diver floating just above the Mariana trench. 

“If a ladder and a shovel’s all your looking for, then you need not look any further. Just make sure they’re returned before the groundskeeper needs them.”

“Why? Is he deranged?” 

“Whose to say? He’s only been here a few weeks or so but will only speak to Pop and Baba gives him instructions via post-it-notes. I suspect the man might be a Lennie Smalls type.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on getting stroked by the groundskeeper today but now I’ll make extra-super-double sure he doesn't. 

Slug doesn’t laugh.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Nora decrees, “I’ll be alright. You should take your place with the procession and remember, only shoot from the waistline up and if anything emotional happens exploit it like a tragedy.” 

Slug’s finger staves Nora by the shoulder.

“If that’s what you want me to do, and you really think it’ll help then I’ll do it. But I’m going to need some reassurance that this’ll all serve some point and that your onions haven’t just caramelized over into a madness salad.”

“An all-onion salad would be madness, but mad I am not. Cooking with nitro? Oh most certainly but you should know by now that I pose no immediate threat to myself or others.  I just have to have something presentable for tommorow because officer Fuckface Hiddlestón took it upon himself to erase all our video from existence!”

Nora finds herself unable to read Slug’s face, looking like a mask of pure grief and solemnness, like she’s on the verge of tears. 

“Whatever you say,” sighs Slug, “I’ll catch you at the service.”  

Slug’s azure dreadlock turns and sway behind her like a wad of hydrilla caught in the current and with that, once again, Nora is alone. A twinge of guilt, or perhaps even an itch, prickles along the inside of her throat but she refuses to let something as trivial as emotion-based acid reflux get in her way. Not when she’s so close. 

Nora breaths in a deep, harsh, breath of air and ash before leaping over the ladybug welcome mat, plunging into the darkness like an unfettered anchor, let loose into the abyss. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

THE SHAPE OF WATER (2017): Movie Review

The Shape of Water is director Guillermo del Toro’s 10th and latest feature that tells a visually rich and emotionally visceral work of cinematic art. In this dark fairytale, del Toro makes it clear that this is a celebration of the silver age of Hollywood; borrowing the artistic stylings and designs of cold war spy thrillers, 1950’s sci-fi alien “body snatcher” films, and Universal’s Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954 ).  I suppose one could describe The Shape of Water as a “dark reimagining of Beauty and the Beast fused with The Little Mermaid (and also Lovecraft). I can’t say I go out of my way to see too many romance dramas in theaters, in fact, the last romance I did see was Crimson Peak; del Toro’s 2015 9th feature film (also a romance/horror movie mashup). In many regards, TSoW is similar to CP in that they’re both love stories but told through the lens of a classic horror movies responsible for del Toro’s affinity and passion for the art of film. In many ways, one could even perceive this latest entry into del Toro’s filmography as a cinematic love letter to the film genres Guillermo holds in his heart; similar to what the Coen Brothers did for Hail, Caesar! (2016 ). I’ve been missing a Grade-A Guillermo del Toro movie like coke after lent and needless to say, del Toro delivers. The Shape of Water is visually stunning and wholeheartedly delightful with a dark and imaginative twist on Guillermo’s age old question of, “what if they lady being hauled off by the Creature in the iconic poster for the original 1954 was actually attracted to the Creature.”

The Shape of Water stares Sally Hawkins as Elisa Esposito, an industrious mute custodian for a secret government laboratory at the height of the Cold War. The facility receives a half-man, half-fish creature played by Doug Jones, as the subject of Elisa’s intrigue, fascination, and infatuation. And before you ask, yes; the relationship gets saucy. Overall TSoW follows a classic melodrama narrative of unrequited love similar to Cinderella, but with the rolls of the prince and princess reversed, and the prince is also an amphibian. The plot can be a tad predictable but for the most part the final cut’s just so delightfully charming and brilliantly made that one can’t help but succumb to its mellifluous delight.

One of the challenge’s that comes with reviewing a Grade-A del Toro picture is deciding which of the film’s strongest accomplishments should get highlighted and what gets overshadowed. The Shape of Water simply has too many positives that listing all of them would result in a boring block of asinine appraisal so I’ll just name a few: First off, Dan Laustsen’s camera work is sweeping, magnificent, and creates a visually ethereal effect which at times makes you feel like your watching a dream. Hawkins is enchanting and hauntingly empathetic whilst communicating almost exclusively through sign language and facial expressions. Richard Jenkins is charismatic and saccharine as Giles and Octavia Spencer, like always, is an absolute gem as Zelda Fuller. The Creature’s costume is an unequivocal spectacle of makeup, prosthetics, lighting, framing, and design and was (for me) the highlight of the film. I was also throughly  blown away at how well del Toro is as a “show don’t tell” director; there are loads of segments and scenes in TSoW where huge chunks of information (such as narrative, motivations, character development, etc.) are given to the audience almost entirely through the visuals. 

With that being said, I should mention that TSoW is far from perfect. At times I couldn’t help but feel that some parts of the film were paced or fast or ended too quickly. For instance, (and without spoiling much) there’s a scene in the middle of the film where the Creature runs off and Hawkins’ character goes to get him back and she does in, like, a minute. In contrast, I also thought some scenes would’ve benefited from being shortened or cut out altogether, especially with the Soviet spy subplot. Admittedly these complaints could be fixed with a bit of editing, but in general, it’s nothing detrimental to the film as a whole. But my biggest issue with TSoW, falls on its antagonist Richard Strickland (Michael Shannon), who’s this movie’s equivocal Gaston. Albeit his character fits right in with the story del Toro is telling; but I can’t help but feel like Shannon’s more inhuman actions would’ve been all the more impactful had they not revealed him to be such a dislikable psychopath so early on. Anyway, that’s all the issue I take with TSoW, and if they seem meager and unimportant to then you’d be right. Ultimately there’s just not that much wrong with The Shape of Water, otherwise it’s a pretty solid merman wish-fulfillment fantasy.  

At its core, The Shape of Water is a pastiche to all of what Guillermo del Toro loves about cinema, and humanoid-amphibians (seriously, this is his 3rd movie where a fishguy's in the main cast and the 2nd movie to show a fishman in an interspecies relationship; am I the only one seeing a pattern here?) but the final result is an emotional Romeo and Juliet-esque experience with all the charm and emotion of a top-shelf Disney musical with all the beautifully twisted imagination of del Toro unfettered.  The Shape of Water is dark, yet sincere. A sweet, but far from sappy modern fairytale which is honestly (in my opinion) what Guillermo does best (i.e. Pan’s Labyrinth). Even if you’re not inherently a fan of cinematic romances so long as you’ve got a pumping heart in your chest I guarantee you’ll find yourself enamored at the big screen love of a woman and a sinewy seahunk, for aren’t the strangest love stories also the most lovely?