Monday, October 7, 2019
Bong Joon-ho's Parasite depicts such a situation. It opens with the Kim family just barely making enough to live on. An opportunity arises to help them but almost as quickly, they find ways to get more out of it. But how long can such a ploy go on?
Similar to Bong's earlier film Snowpiercer, Parasite shows a particular class struggle and how both parties behave. The wealthy seem practically oblivious to the fact that less fortunate people lust for what they have. Meanwhile, the latter is stuck in some truly atrocious living conditions so it's no wonder they're fighting (quite literally at times) for something better.
But to compare the two films is like comparing apples to oranges. Parasite is decidedly far more calculating than Snowpiercer. Bong -- knowing how to make a thriller with dashes of dark comedy -- applies this to his latest film and boy, does he succeed with flying colors.
Parasite is a wicked little picture in every sense of the word. It's one where going into it blind is best recommended (thus rendering this whole review null and void...). Anyway, be sure to see it before it gets spoiled for you; you won't be disappointed in the slightest.
My Rating: *****
That's not to say Charlie and Nicole's separation is a tumultuous one, far from it. They're still living under the same roof -- most likely for the sake of their son -- as they work out their differences. But after Nicole heads to Los Angeles to film a TV pilot (and hires a lawyer), that's when things get both complicated and ugly.
Par for the course of a Baumbach film, there are many moments that are just extremely uncomfortable to watch unfold. Granted, to see a marriage crumble follow suit by a bitter custody dispute is not something anyone wants to experience let alone witness. And what Baumbach captures is more emotionally devastating than what's found in his earlier work.
Both Driver and Johansson have been involved in bigger projects these last few years (he with Star Wars, she with the Marvel Cinematic Universe) so to have them in titles that rely more on substance than style is nice. (They've done others of the like as well but still.) Obviously those larger vehicles don't give them much of a chance to properly act so Marriage Story more than offers that opportunity (to Johansson especially).
Marriage Story certainly isn't date night material (much in the same vein as Gone Girl). With attention-grabbing supporting turns from the likes of Laura Dern, Alan Alda, Ray Liotta, Julie Hagerty, and Merritt Weaver, Baumbach also continues to show his worth as a storyteller. (Being written after his own divorce shows that yes, he knows exactly what he's talking about.)
My Rating: *****
Sunday, October 6, 2019
This is something that Marianne (Noémie Merlant) encounters initially in Céline Sciamma's Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Commissioned to discretely paint Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), she finds her subject aloof. But as more time passes between the two women, something deeper grows between them.
In contrast to other lesbian-themed films from recent years (Blue is the Warmest Color, The Handmaiden, Disobedience), Portrait of a Lady on Fire is decidedly much better in depicting such relationships. The earlier films were adapted by straight men, the resulting sex scenes looking more like they were inspired by porn than the female-penned works they're based on. Meanwhile, Sciamma -- who was once romantically involved with Haenel -- prefers more of the sensuality from parting glances and brushes of fingers that her male contemporaries tend to eschew, something that directors like Dee Rees and Donna Deitch featured in their respective sapphic showpieces as well. (A good example of this is in a scene where Marianne and Héloïse point out the other's tics.)
Sciamma also plays with the use of color in Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Like the Technicolor-drenched films of Powell and Pressburger, she and cinematographer Claire Mathon toy with various contrasts such as the broad colors of Marianne and Héloïse's dresses against the pale walls of the home or silhouettes against the dusk sky. (There's another striking example best left for one to see themselves.)
Portrait of a Lady on Fire continues Sciamma's streak as a director. As she did with her earlier films, it maintains a nuance to its storytelling, not needing those big blow-out moments. And just a warning: the last scene will destroy you.
My Rating: *****
Thursday, August 1, 2019
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
This is what both Katherine Newbury (Emma Thompson) and Molly Patel (Mindy Kaling) face in Nisha Ganatra's Late Night. Katherine is a talk show host whose ratings have been in steady decline while Molly has recently been hired for the show's writing team. But they're viewed as adversaries by those who want to be in the positions they're in (read: by men). But will they persevere?
Far from the cutthroat world depicted in Network, Late Night still has its own sense of ruthlessness to it. Embracing the technological age we live in, it shows how social media and online journalism serve as harsher critics than phone-ins of the previous half-century. Have a woman as the target of said criticism, and they become far more brutal.
Similarly, you can tell a lot of the stand-up material featured in Late Night was most definitely not written by someone who's a regular on that circuit. (No offense to Kaling but honestly.) A bulk of the jokes that are deemed funny in the movie simply aren't in reality. (It's clear to distinguish acting laughter from genuine laughter and boy, does it get painfully obvious at times here.)
Anyway, Late Night still has a solid story even if it's sorely lacking in laughs. It has you realizing those articles boasting about a first-ever X on a TV show don't highlight why it took so long for them to get hired/exist in the first place. (Looking at you, Doctor Who.) Honestly, it's 2019; the lack of inclusivity shouldn't still be a problem.
My Rating: ****
Stuck amid terrible weather, Philip (Raymond Massey) and Margaret Waverton (Gloria Stuart) and their friend Roger Penderel (Melvyn Douglas) find refuge in a dilapidated manor in the Welsh countryside. Later joined by William Porterhouse (Charles Laughton) and Gladys DuCane (Lilian Bond), they find themselves trying to survive the night in this ethereal home. But will they?
Adding some comedic touches to the otherwise faithful script, The Old Dark House has some more levity compared to Universal's other horror films of the era. (Douglas gets the bulk of the one-liners.) It's from this light humor that the otherwise tense situation is alleviated. (Doesn't always work for the better, mind you.)
And The Old Dark House features a number of actors that either had worked with Whale before or would work with him again. Among them are Stuart (The Invisible Man), Ernest Thesiger (Bride of Frankenstein), and Boris Karloff (needs no explanation, does it?) Granted, Stuart was under contract at Universal but the point still stands.
The Old Dark House may not have quite the scares it dished out in 1932 but that aside, it's still a solid picture nearly ninety (!) years later. Whale clearly had a knack for directing so knowing that his Hollywood career was a brief one (20 films in 11 years!) shows that the industry lost out on other Whale-helmed projects. Oh, what could have been...
My Rating: ****
Christopher Münch's The Hours and Times explores what might have happened during that trip. (It opens with a disclaimer stating that what's about to unfold only speculation, not fact.) By the time the film was released 1992, neither man could protest what was depicted (Epstein had died in 1967, Lennon in 1980) but again, it's merely a fictionalization of real-life events.
The purpose of the trip isn't outright stated in The Hours and Times but Brian (David Angus) cites it to John (Ian Hart, who'd play Lennon two more times in the years to come) as nothing more than a vacation. Sure, the Beatles had become wildly successful but why not bring the other members? (It's worth bringing up that Epstein was gay, and Barcelona was decidedly laxer about homosexuality than Liverpool, so draw your own conclusions.)
But Münch makes The Hours and Times about desire more than anything else. Similar to how Brian longs for male companionship, it's implied that John yearns to be unattached. (Shortly before he left, his son Julian was born.) He isn't comfortable talking about his home life to Brian, which suggests he doesn't want to be reminded of what waits for him back in England. But is there more to what John wants?
The Hours and Times is far more than a "what if?" situation of real-life events; it's a quiet film about how one's wants can be almost deafening to them. How can one -- whose desires are frowned upon, no less -- find the happiness they ache for? Some achieve their quest while others aimlessly search for it their whole lives. And in the case of John and most definitely Brian, it may be more of the latter.
My Rating: ****