Let's be real: 2013 was a good year for movies. Like, a really, really good year. We don't have any Crashes or Argos that threaten to devalue the meaning of the bald guy-- whichever film takes home the Best Picture Oscar on Sunday, one thing is clear: it deserves to do so. I haven't felt this way about the Oscar nominations in a very long time.
Pontificating about the glory of Hollywood in 2013 will be saved for another post next week. But, in such a jam-packed awards season with so many heavy-hitters elbowing their way to the winner's circle, it's inevitable that some top films have simply been left behind. When the Academy Award nominations were announced back in January, you could almost hear all of the overlooked talent channeling Marlon Brandon and wailing, "I coulda been a contender!"
So, here's to the unsung talents from 2013:
5. Tom Hanks.
Yes, I realize it's Tom Hanks. But he delivered two memorable performances this year-- as Walt Disney in Saving Mr. Banks and the title character in Captain Phillips. While Captain Phillips was uneven at times, Tom Hanks' performance was absolutely riveting. The last 10 minutes or so of the film were particularly stunning-- THanks delivered a master class.
4. Gatsby
I realize that Baz from Oz's adaptation of The Great Gatsby wasn't everyone's cup of tea. (I, for one, loved it. Read my review here.) But I do think it should've been nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay. Luhrmann was obviously in love with the book and did a commendable job brushing the dust off a classic to make it sexy, original, and over-the-top.
3. The Hobbit: Best Original Song
Easily one of the best songs to come out of this movie season was "I See Fire" from The Hobbit. I can't listen to it without getting chills. While I still think Frozen's "Let It Go" should and will win, it would have been nice for Ed Sheeran to get acknowledgement from the Academy for this song.
2. Prisoners
In my opinion, this was easily one of the best films that I saw all year. Seriously. I will be remembering, recommending, and rewatching this film long after I forget the likes of American Hustle or The Wolf of Wall Street. Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal both deliver the best performances of their career.
1. Inside Llewyn Davis
Why did everyone ignore this gem of a picture?! It's melancholy, passionate, complex, allegorical, profound, moving, masterful.... I could go on and on. In short, the fact that this isn't on the Best Picture list (or Best Actor list-- Oscar Isaac was phenomenal) is an absolute travesty. Also, the soundtrack to this film will be a legend one day.
Friday, February 28, 2014
Monday, February 24, 2014
One-Word Reviews
WELCOME, OSCARS WEEK.
Folks, this is the homestretch in the awards long haul that began last May. We've made it! To kick things off (and because I haven't had time to write more full reviews), I'm giving you my one-word reviews for the Best Picture contenders, with the nominees ranked from worst to best. In a word: enjoy!
9. CAPTAIN PHILLIPS = FORGETTABLE.
8. HER = LIFELESS.
7. PHILOMENA = JUDI.
6. AMERICAN HUSTLE = MESSY.
5. THE WOLF OF WALL STREET = BRASH.
4. DALLAS BUYERS CLUB = INTENSE.
3. NEBRASKA = UNDERSTATED.
2. GRAVITY = VISIONARY.
1. 12 YEARS A SLAVE = GAME-CHANGER.
Folks, this is the homestretch in the awards long haul that began last May. We've made it! To kick things off (and because I haven't had time to write more full reviews), I'm giving you my one-word reviews for the Best Picture contenders, with the nominees ranked from worst to best. In a word: enjoy!
9. CAPTAIN PHILLIPS = FORGETTABLE.
8. HER = LIFELESS.
7. PHILOMENA = JUDI.
6. AMERICAN HUSTLE = MESSY.
5. THE WOLF OF WALL STREET = BRASH.
4. DALLAS BUYERS CLUB = INTENSE.
3. NEBRASKA = UNDERSTATED.
2. GRAVITY = VISIONARY.
1. 12 YEARS A SLAVE = GAME-CHANGER.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
"12 Years a Slave" and the Burdens of History
Whatever happens on March 2, 2014-- whether Gravity or American Hustle, that renegade film masquerading as greatness, steals the Best Picture Oscar-- I can assure you of one thing: 12 Years a Slave will be remembered as the best film of 2013.
I first read Solomon Northup's memoirs, 12 Years a Slave, in college for a "Slavery and Civil War" course. I remember the astonishment I felt while reading the book and the distinct feeling that this was a special story. Solomon Northup was a free black man who was tricked and sold into slavery. He spent 12 years laboring as a slave, observing the brutal system, and hoping that one day his friends and family would find him and help him reclaim his freedom. It was a wildly successful book when it was first published in 1853, and abolitionists, hungry for factual accounts to support the claims made in Uncle Tom's Cabin, ate it up. It was a riveting story, to be sure; but I never expected it to find an audience beyond historians. Years later, I was surprised to discover that Northup's memoirs were being adapted into a film by British director Steve McQueen.
Steve McQueen's masterpiece is not just an important film; it is a necessary film, one that should have been crafted decades ago. America, though enthusiastic in celebrating an imagined history, seldom faces the uncomfortable truths. We are a society that revels in idealizing our past-- we like our pilgrims peaceful, our patriots selfless, our presidents honest, and our wars heroic. But the past, that great complicator of all things, is rarely so straight-forward and agreeable. It is far easier to brush aside and diminish histories of inequalities, struggles, and atrocities than it is to deal with them head on.
Slavery is one of those topics. Instead of focusing on the abuses leveled against millions, it is more convenient to focus on moments of triumph, especially in film: rather than giving an accurate depiction of the everyday degradations and horrors that occupied a slave's life, filmmakers have often turned to moments of feel-good success and resistance. And so we get Amistad, Lincoln, and Glory. These are all wonderful films that highlight important historical moments. But, these films tell only a small part of the slave story. The American past to which filmmakers gravitate is sanitized for the sake of telling a triumphant history, moments when our ideals guided us and justice was done. Yet, the American past isn't just about overcoming horrors; it's also about coming to terms with those horrors.
For too long, our society has perpetuated a romantic, distorted view of the American South that downplays the brutalities of slavery. The plantation homes that litter the South host tens of thousands of visitors annually. Though many of these plantations have begun to curate exhibits that document the slave experience, many still refuse to do so. Hollywood, of course, is guilty of this whitewashing, too. Sure, films have addressed slavery. But the daily realities of slavery are often brushed over or portrayed half-heartedly. Over 75 years after Gone with the Wind and close to 150 years since the end of the Civil War, Hollywood still has not figured out how to accurately, sensitively depict the reality of the slave experience: the constant, unrelenting exploitation, violence, and abuse that marked a slave's life. But Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave is the long-awaited film that seeks to haul Hollywood forward in its representation of slavery.
What's most extraordinary about McQueen's film is that it subverts the romantic interpretation of the American South that many films reinforce. First and foremost, there is the character/historical figure Edwin Epps, played brilliantly by Michael Fassbender. McQueen portrays Epps as a romantic figure-- volatile, passionate, troubled, and destructive. Indeed, Epps' romantic tendencies are highlighted by Patricia Norris' understated costume design. McQueen told Norris to design a "romantic" look to Epps' clothing. By making the monstrous Epps a romantic figure, McQueen undermines notions of the "romantic" antebellum South-- its romanticism was overcome by its violence. This characterization also fits with one of McQueen's leitmotifs: he repeatedly contrasts beauty and depravity, the sublime and the grotesque, the romantic and the violent. He incorporates National Geographic-esque shots of the beautiful, pure Louisiana landscape to contrast with the brutality of the unnatural system of slavery. Like the American story itself, the film is filled with contrasts that undermine the romanticism of the South.
There is a great, albeit brief scene about halfway through the film when Solomon, an expert violinist, is hired out to a neighboring plantation to provide music for a party. In the party scene, we see a room filled with handsome, well-dressed couples who are donning masks and dancing-- this is a masquerade ball, and everyone has come out in their finest. Behind the romantic couples, the musicians huddle at the edges of the crowd, brushed aside and entirely divorced from the gaiety in the room. The musicians are, of course, slaves-- dressed in tattered, dull clothes that are starkly contrasted with the rich, colorful costumes of the white elite-- and they are playing for the benefit of the slave holders who are absorbed in their own world. These musicians are not Uncle Remuses, happy and carefree; they are, quite simply, enslaved people who are forced to play music for their masters. McQueen's metaphor is clear: the American South, decked out as it was in finery, inane romanticism, and gilded temples to its own self-proclaimed greatness, danced to a music of the slaves' making. The antebellum American South, like the whirling couples on the dance floor, wore a mask of gentility and grace-- but, it was only a mask, covering up the atrocious, violent reality of their slave-fueled world.
I can picture no other director who could have made this film with the same unflinching sensitivity, subtlety, and control that McQueen exhibited. Unlike most films that touch on slavery, 12 Years a Slave does not save the violence for the climax or as the incident inciting the film's hero to pursue vengeance. Violence is not the climax; it's the everyday reality, the fact of life that was common, normalized, and frequent for slaves throughout the American South. By constantly confronting his audience with violence, McQueen utterly shifts our expectations of how we see slavery depicted on screen. Steve McQueen is known for making films that are both uncomfortable and unrelenting-- films like Hunger, a depiction of Irish hunger-striker Bobby Sands, and Shame, an unflinching portrait of a sex addict. McQueen brings that element of undaunted discomfort to 12 Years a Slave, and that is what makes this film exceptional. We see everyday slavery portrayed on screen as it has never been portrayed before, because Steve McQueen won't let us look away. He challenges us to keep watching, to bear witness to the indignities and abuse suffered by millions of enslaved men and women.
The best scene is also the hardest to watch. Solomon has challenged the authority of an arrogant overseer. The affronted overseer seeks retribution and, with his cronies, attempts to lynch Solomon. Though the lynching is stopped in the nick of time, Solomon is forced to half-hang for what feels like eternity. McQueen uses long, unedited shots and refuses to blink, to offer some relief to we, the audience, because Solomon felt no relief. We feel his ragged breath as he chokes on it for hours; we hear his gurgling throat; we see his toes balance the precipice of death, as they dance around in circles in the mud, desperately trying to hold the weight of his dangling body. And, most disturbingly, we watch life continue around him, unaffected by this normalized scene of brutality: slave children play in the background, men and women go about their chores, and the mistress of the house looks on from the porch. It is excruciating. We tremble with Solomon, gasping for air and weighed down by the burdens of a past that we cannot shake, no matter how hard we struggle. To put it bluntly, we've never seen slavery depicted like this before.
Steve McQueen's depiction of the realities of slavery could have gone even farther. Planters' relationships with their slaves were often more disturbing than what is presented in the film. Epps' relationship-- though, I hate to call it that-- with Patsey is just the tip of the iceberg. Thomas Thistlewood, an overseer on a Jamaican plantation in the eighteenth century, meticulously kept a journal of his activities in which he details his mistreatment of his slaves. Thistlewood was forthright about his sexual abuse of slaves, and he appears to have committed over 3,852 acts of rape. Thistlewood also concocted twisted forms of punishment, far worse than the sadistic horrors committed by Edwin Epps onscreen. These stories await future telling in film, as McQueen has opened the gates.
Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave is a game-changer. By bringing atrocities front and center with an unblinking urgency, McQueen has utterly shattered our previous expectations of how slavery should be depicted in film. People have been (rightly) praising 12 Years a Slave since it got a standing ovation at the Toronto Film Festival in September 2013. Unlike many of its competitors at the Oscars, 12 Years a Slave will be the film that people are talking, writing, and arguing about for decades to come.
I first read Solomon Northup's memoirs, 12 Years a Slave, in college for a "Slavery and Civil War" course. I remember the astonishment I felt while reading the book and the distinct feeling that this was a special story. Solomon Northup was a free black man who was tricked and sold into slavery. He spent 12 years laboring as a slave, observing the brutal system, and hoping that one day his friends and family would find him and help him reclaim his freedom. It was a wildly successful book when it was first published in 1853, and abolitionists, hungry for factual accounts to support the claims made in Uncle Tom's Cabin, ate it up. It was a riveting story, to be sure; but I never expected it to find an audience beyond historians. Years later, I was surprised to discover that Northup's memoirs were being adapted into a film by British director Steve McQueen.
Steve McQueen's masterpiece is not just an important film; it is a necessary film, one that should have been crafted decades ago. America, though enthusiastic in celebrating an imagined history, seldom faces the uncomfortable truths. We are a society that revels in idealizing our past-- we like our pilgrims peaceful, our patriots selfless, our presidents honest, and our wars heroic. But the past, that great complicator of all things, is rarely so straight-forward and agreeable. It is far easier to brush aside and diminish histories of inequalities, struggles, and atrocities than it is to deal with them head on.
Slavery is one of those topics. Instead of focusing on the abuses leveled against millions, it is more convenient to focus on moments of triumph, especially in film: rather than giving an accurate depiction of the everyday degradations and horrors that occupied a slave's life, filmmakers have often turned to moments of feel-good success and resistance. And so we get Amistad, Lincoln, and Glory. These are all wonderful films that highlight important historical moments. But, these films tell only a small part of the slave story. The American past to which filmmakers gravitate is sanitized for the sake of telling a triumphant history, moments when our ideals guided us and justice was done. Yet, the American past isn't just about overcoming horrors; it's also about coming to terms with those horrors.
For too long, our society has perpetuated a romantic, distorted view of the American South that downplays the brutalities of slavery. The plantation homes that litter the South host tens of thousands of visitors annually. Though many of these plantations have begun to curate exhibits that document the slave experience, many still refuse to do so. Hollywood, of course, is guilty of this whitewashing, too. Sure, films have addressed slavery. But the daily realities of slavery are often brushed over or portrayed half-heartedly. Over 75 years after Gone with the Wind and close to 150 years since the end of the Civil War, Hollywood still has not figured out how to accurately, sensitively depict the reality of the slave experience: the constant, unrelenting exploitation, violence, and abuse that marked a slave's life. But Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave is the long-awaited film that seeks to haul Hollywood forward in its representation of slavery.
What's most extraordinary about McQueen's film is that it subverts the romantic interpretation of the American South that many films reinforce. First and foremost, there is the character/historical figure Edwin Epps, played brilliantly by Michael Fassbender. McQueen portrays Epps as a romantic figure-- volatile, passionate, troubled, and destructive. Indeed, Epps' romantic tendencies are highlighted by Patricia Norris' understated costume design. McQueen told Norris to design a "romantic" look to Epps' clothing. By making the monstrous Epps a romantic figure, McQueen undermines notions of the "romantic" antebellum South-- its romanticism was overcome by its violence. This characterization also fits with one of McQueen's leitmotifs: he repeatedly contrasts beauty and depravity, the sublime and the grotesque, the romantic and the violent. He incorporates National Geographic-esque shots of the beautiful, pure Louisiana landscape to contrast with the brutality of the unnatural system of slavery. Like the American story itself, the film is filled with contrasts that undermine the romanticism of the South.
There is a great, albeit brief scene about halfway through the film when Solomon, an expert violinist, is hired out to a neighboring plantation to provide music for a party. In the party scene, we see a room filled with handsome, well-dressed couples who are donning masks and dancing-- this is a masquerade ball, and everyone has come out in their finest. Behind the romantic couples, the musicians huddle at the edges of the crowd, brushed aside and entirely divorced from the gaiety in the room. The musicians are, of course, slaves-- dressed in tattered, dull clothes that are starkly contrasted with the rich, colorful costumes of the white elite-- and they are playing for the benefit of the slave holders who are absorbed in their own world. These musicians are not Uncle Remuses, happy and carefree; they are, quite simply, enslaved people who are forced to play music for their masters. McQueen's metaphor is clear: the American South, decked out as it was in finery, inane romanticism, and gilded temples to its own self-proclaimed greatness, danced to a music of the slaves' making. The antebellum American South, like the whirling couples on the dance floor, wore a mask of gentility and grace-- but, it was only a mask, covering up the atrocious, violent reality of their slave-fueled world.
 |
| Solomon Northup plays at a masquerade |
I can picture no other director who could have made this film with the same unflinching sensitivity, subtlety, and control that McQueen exhibited. Unlike most films that touch on slavery, 12 Years a Slave does not save the violence for the climax or as the incident inciting the film's hero to pursue vengeance. Violence is not the climax; it's the everyday reality, the fact of life that was common, normalized, and frequent for slaves throughout the American South. By constantly confronting his audience with violence, McQueen utterly shifts our expectations of how we see slavery depicted on screen. Steve McQueen is known for making films that are both uncomfortable and unrelenting-- films like Hunger, a depiction of Irish hunger-striker Bobby Sands, and Shame, an unflinching portrait of a sex addict. McQueen brings that element of undaunted discomfort to 12 Years a Slave, and that is what makes this film exceptional. We see everyday slavery portrayed on screen as it has never been portrayed before, because Steve McQueen won't let us look away. He challenges us to keep watching, to bear witness to the indignities and abuse suffered by millions of enslaved men and women.
The best scene is also the hardest to watch. Solomon has challenged the authority of an arrogant overseer. The affronted overseer seeks retribution and, with his cronies, attempts to lynch Solomon. Though the lynching is stopped in the nick of time, Solomon is forced to half-hang for what feels like eternity. McQueen uses long, unedited shots and refuses to blink, to offer some relief to we, the audience, because Solomon felt no relief. We feel his ragged breath as he chokes on it for hours; we hear his gurgling throat; we see his toes balance the precipice of death, as they dance around in circles in the mud, desperately trying to hold the weight of his dangling body. And, most disturbingly, we watch life continue around him, unaffected by this normalized scene of brutality: slave children play in the background, men and women go about their chores, and the mistress of the house looks on from the porch. It is excruciating. We tremble with Solomon, gasping for air and weighed down by the burdens of a past that we cannot shake, no matter how hard we struggle. To put it bluntly, we've never seen slavery depicted like this before.
Steve McQueen's depiction of the realities of slavery could have gone even farther. Planters' relationships with their slaves were often more disturbing than what is presented in the film. Epps' relationship-- though, I hate to call it that-- with Patsey is just the tip of the iceberg. Thomas Thistlewood, an overseer on a Jamaican plantation in the eighteenth century, meticulously kept a journal of his activities in which he details his mistreatment of his slaves. Thistlewood was forthright about his sexual abuse of slaves, and he appears to have committed over 3,852 acts of rape. Thistlewood also concocted twisted forms of punishment, far worse than the sadistic horrors committed by Edwin Epps onscreen. These stories await future telling in film, as McQueen has opened the gates.
Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave is a game-changer. By bringing atrocities front and center with an unblinking urgency, McQueen has utterly shattered our previous expectations of how slavery should be depicted in film. People have been (rightly) praising 12 Years a Slave since it got a standing ovation at the Toronto Film Festival in September 2013. Unlike many of its competitors at the Oscars, 12 Years a Slave will be the film that people are talking, writing, and arguing about for decades to come.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Frozen and the Great Disney Thaw
Caution: This review contains spoilers.
Disney's gaze has long been frozen in time: for several decades, it has been looking backward to the values of mid-century America with a longing and wistfulness that is unbecoming in a progressive world. But that frozen gaze-- fixated on love-at-first-sight romances and outdated gender stereotypes-- seems to be thawing. And there is no greater testament to that than Disney's latest fairy tale, Frozen.
On the surface, Frozen is really nothing all that new for Disney Animation Studios. Like The Little Mermaid-- the film that kick-started the so-called "Disney Renaissance" of the late 1980s and 1990s, which produced modern classics like Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King-- Frozen is based on a Hans Christian Andersen tale. Like countless other Disney films, it focuses on the .00001%-- that is, princesses, the commodity that built the Disney Empire. And, like some of Disney's best films, Frozen feels like a Broadway musical with its plethora of songs. Yet, Frozen is unlike all of these films. Why? One simple reason: it's not about being saved; it's about saving yourself.
Allow me to orient you. In the snowy land of Arendelle, we meet two royal sisters. Anna is bubbly and earnest; Elsa, the older sister, is serious and, seemingly, more gifted-- she has magical powers that allow her to create snow and ice. One day, a simple game goes wrong, and Elsa accidentally injures her younger sister. She is crushed and spends the remainder of her childhood in isolation-- literally, she's locked in a room-- until she learns how to control her powers. Her mantra becomes, "Conceal; don't feel." Due to Elsa's isolation (quarantine??), the sisters who were once inseparable drift apart. Years later, Elsa ascends the throne, and on her coronation day she struggles to control her powers and keep them secret-- she fears her subjects will turn on her if they knew the depth of her abilities. Unsurprisingly, trouble ensues, and Elsa's secret explodes out. Humiliated and frightened for her life, she spectacularly flees the palace, her subjects, and her future as queen. Anna goes after her sister, sure that she will be able to bring her back and set things right, for her sake and the kingdom's.
As the film progresses, it becomes apparent that this isn't about true love's kiss, dashing princes who will save you, or curses that victimize and debilitate you. This is actually a film about sisterly love, about bonds that remain inexplicably strong, despite years of separation. This isn't about being saved by the handsome prince; it's about finding the inner strength to save a loved one. Disney even undermines the hero-prince archetype that has long defined its films. Frozen utterly subverts this in the character of Hans, the everyday villain whose tactic is to woo and charm. (Ironically, Hans is voiced by the reigning Prince Charming of Broadway's Cinderella, the very lovable Santino Fontana.) People, like this reviewer and that reviewer, have been warring over Hans. I, for one, loved the twist-- after all, in the real world, people who are seemingly perfect and good betray one another all the time. It's important that little kids learn this lesson early. The end of the film almost drove me to tears-- Anna must save Elsa by sacrificing herself for her sister. A simple gesture, but also powerful. Frozen shifts the love story from romantic love to familial love. The real love story here is between sisters. Disney has never done this before.
And then, there's Elsa herself. A painfully troubled young woman who has felt imprisoned by the burdens of her powers, she decides that the only way she can feel free and in control of her life is by constructing her own ice palace-prison-- a striking metaphor. Elsa's tragedy is heartbreaking: that which makes her dangerous also makes her gifted and special. As some reviewers have pointed out, Elsa's struggles parallel the struggles of men and women in the LGBT community. But, Elsa's struggles are broader than this: she is everyone, because there is something special and different about every single person on this planet. Elsa is anyone who has ever fiercely protected a part of themselves that they felt no one else would understand: the kid who was afraid to read a book at school, for fear of being called a nerd; the girl who loved to sing, but was self-conscious of her voice; the athlete who loved ballet lessons; the storyteller who wrote in private, afraid to let anyone into the safe world of her imagination. Elsa is all of us: girls and boys everywhere who feel misunderstood and alone. In many ways, she is the female version of the Beast; yet, it is not her actions that imprison her, but her own greatness. The other love story in this film is what Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City calls the most important relationship of your life: the relationship with yourself. Frozen teaches young people everywhere to love themselves; whatever makes you different also makes you extraordinary beyond measure, and that is worth loving.
I now refer you to this scene. This song is Disney's answer to "Defying Gravity," and it happens to be the best song in the film-- one that, if there is any justice in the world, will win the Oscar for Best Song. (The film's other songs, penned by husband and wife team Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, are relatively forgettable, though Broadway greats like Santino and Jonathan Groff make the most of them.) Elsa, voiced with power and passion by the incomparable Idina Menzel of Wicked fame, has run away from her coronation ball and realizes there is no going back. (I dare you to watch this without getting goosebumps.)
This is one of Disney's best scenes of all time. It is empowering, moving, and rich in meaning and subtext. My favorite part of the song comes in at around the three-minute mark: "that perfect girl is gone," Elsa belts. Elsa's story is the story of every little girl. The story of struggling with the "good girl" mold that has contributed to identity crises for generations of women who try so hard to be perfect-- to be pretty, perfectly-formed, accomplished, demure, maternal, etc., etc., etc. Of course, this is an unrealistic expectation since we, as humans, are only perfect at being hopelessly imperfect. Elsa is not the perfect girl, and neither are the millions of young girls, mothers, grandmothers, and aunts who watch the film. And that's okay. In the context of Disney movies-- movies from a company that has done much, in its history, to perpetuate this mold of perfect womanhood-- this is an astonishing point.
Is Frozen the best Disney movie I've seen? Well, no. (For the record, I like Tangled a lot more. I don't think I'll ever get over the sky lantern scene.) But Frozen is important because it shows how Disney as a producer of stories for young people is moving forward-- it's willing to refocus its stories to celebrate the inner strength that empowers young girls and women. The film accomplishes so much in such a simple story. There is beauty buried beneath the icy layers of slapstick comedy, uneven script-writing, and mediocre music-- for, beneath the surface, deep in the soul of the film, there lies a flesh-and-blood princess of a picture reminding us that there is magic inside all of us.
Disney's gaze has long been frozen in time: for several decades, it has been looking backward to the values of mid-century America with a longing and wistfulness that is unbecoming in a progressive world. But that frozen gaze-- fixated on love-at-first-sight romances and outdated gender stereotypes-- seems to be thawing. And there is no greater testament to that than Disney's latest fairy tale, Frozen.
On the surface, Frozen is really nothing all that new for Disney Animation Studios. Like The Little Mermaid-- the film that kick-started the so-called "Disney Renaissance" of the late 1980s and 1990s, which produced modern classics like Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, and The Lion King-- Frozen is based on a Hans Christian Andersen tale. Like countless other Disney films, it focuses on the .00001%-- that is, princesses, the commodity that built the Disney Empire. And, like some of Disney's best films, Frozen feels like a Broadway musical with its plethora of songs. Yet, Frozen is unlike all of these films. Why? One simple reason: it's not about being saved; it's about saving yourself.
Allow me to orient you. In the snowy land of Arendelle, we meet two royal sisters. Anna is bubbly and earnest; Elsa, the older sister, is serious and, seemingly, more gifted-- she has magical powers that allow her to create snow and ice. One day, a simple game goes wrong, and Elsa accidentally injures her younger sister. She is crushed and spends the remainder of her childhood in isolation-- literally, she's locked in a room-- until she learns how to control her powers. Her mantra becomes, "Conceal; don't feel." Due to Elsa's isolation (quarantine??), the sisters who were once inseparable drift apart. Years later, Elsa ascends the throne, and on her coronation day she struggles to control her powers and keep them secret-- she fears her subjects will turn on her if they knew the depth of her abilities. Unsurprisingly, trouble ensues, and Elsa's secret explodes out. Humiliated and frightened for her life, she spectacularly flees the palace, her subjects, and her future as queen. Anna goes after her sister, sure that she will be able to bring her back and set things right, for her sake and the kingdom's.
As the film progresses, it becomes apparent that this isn't about true love's kiss, dashing princes who will save you, or curses that victimize and debilitate you. This is actually a film about sisterly love, about bonds that remain inexplicably strong, despite years of separation. This isn't about being saved by the handsome prince; it's about finding the inner strength to save a loved one. Disney even undermines the hero-prince archetype that has long defined its films. Frozen utterly subverts this in the character of Hans, the everyday villain whose tactic is to woo and charm. (Ironically, Hans is voiced by the reigning Prince Charming of Broadway's Cinderella, the very lovable Santino Fontana.) People, like this reviewer and that reviewer, have been warring over Hans. I, for one, loved the twist-- after all, in the real world, people who are seemingly perfect and good betray one another all the time. It's important that little kids learn this lesson early. The end of the film almost drove me to tears-- Anna must save Elsa by sacrificing herself for her sister. A simple gesture, but also powerful. Frozen shifts the love story from romantic love to familial love. The real love story here is between sisters. Disney has never done this before.
And then, there's Elsa herself. A painfully troubled young woman who has felt imprisoned by the burdens of her powers, she decides that the only way she can feel free and in control of her life is by constructing her own ice palace-prison-- a striking metaphor. Elsa's tragedy is heartbreaking: that which makes her dangerous also makes her gifted and special. As some reviewers have pointed out, Elsa's struggles parallel the struggles of men and women in the LGBT community. But, Elsa's struggles are broader than this: she is everyone, because there is something special and different about every single person on this planet. Elsa is anyone who has ever fiercely protected a part of themselves that they felt no one else would understand: the kid who was afraid to read a book at school, for fear of being called a nerd; the girl who loved to sing, but was self-conscious of her voice; the athlete who loved ballet lessons; the storyteller who wrote in private, afraid to let anyone into the safe world of her imagination. Elsa is all of us: girls and boys everywhere who feel misunderstood and alone. In many ways, she is the female version of the Beast; yet, it is not her actions that imprison her, but her own greatness. The other love story in this film is what Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City calls the most important relationship of your life: the relationship with yourself. Frozen teaches young people everywhere to love themselves; whatever makes you different also makes you extraordinary beyond measure, and that is worth loving.
I now refer you to this scene. This song is Disney's answer to "Defying Gravity," and it happens to be the best song in the film-- one that, if there is any justice in the world, will win the Oscar for Best Song. (The film's other songs, penned by husband and wife team Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, are relatively forgettable, though Broadway greats like Santino and Jonathan Groff make the most of them.) Elsa, voiced with power and passion by the incomparable Idina Menzel of Wicked fame, has run away from her coronation ball and realizes there is no going back. (I dare you to watch this without getting goosebumps.)
This is one of Disney's best scenes of all time. It is empowering, moving, and rich in meaning and subtext. My favorite part of the song comes in at around the three-minute mark: "that perfect girl is gone," Elsa belts. Elsa's story is the story of every little girl. The story of struggling with the "good girl" mold that has contributed to identity crises for generations of women who try so hard to be perfect-- to be pretty, perfectly-formed, accomplished, demure, maternal, etc., etc., etc. Of course, this is an unrealistic expectation since we, as humans, are only perfect at being hopelessly imperfect. Elsa is not the perfect girl, and neither are the millions of young girls, mothers, grandmothers, and aunts who watch the film. And that's okay. In the context of Disney movies-- movies from a company that has done much, in its history, to perpetuate this mold of perfect womanhood-- this is an astonishing point.
Is Frozen the best Disney movie I've seen? Well, no. (For the record, I like Tangled a lot more. I don't think I'll ever get over the sky lantern scene.) But Frozen is important because it shows how Disney as a producer of stories for young people is moving forward-- it's willing to refocus its stories to celebrate the inner strength that empowers young girls and women. The film accomplishes so much in such a simple story. There is beauty buried beneath the icy layers of slapstick comedy, uneven script-writing, and mediocre music-- for, beneath the surface, deep in the soul of the film, there lies a flesh-and-blood princess of a picture reminding us that there is magic inside all of us.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Hustled by Russell
I really, really wanted to like American Hustle. It promised to be groovy, silly, smart, and sexy all at once-- but, it seems I've been hustled.
American Hustle is the latest film from director David O. Russell, whose Silver Linings Playbook made out quite well last year. I loved SLP-- it was the rare anti-romantic comedy that was actually, well, a romantic comedy. The cast had an easy task-- the characters were quirky and hopelessly flawed, an assortment of funny, honest, and unique men and women who were so profoundly of their world that you believed every line, trusted every shot, and rooted for their success. Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence helmed the film with intensity, humor, and a lot of profanity, and it became apparent that their characters' imperfections made Pat and Tiffany perfect for each other. I cared about Pat and Tiffany, their struggles, and the story that brought them together.
But, that's just the problem with American Hustle-- I didn't care about the story at all, and the characters' imperfections amounted to absolutely nothing. It is as if this film were more interested in creating caricatures rather than real characters. Now, I'll be the first to admit that Russell generally gets phenomenal performances from his actors. But, a great performance can only go so far-- the character itself must be compelling. Though the characters in American Hustle were interesting, I didn't care for them; consequently, I couldn't care about the story-- their journeys were meaningless, insignificant, and unimportant to me. As a result, Russell alienated me for 138 minutes, a running-time that crawled by at a snail's pace.
Simply because of the performances, I respect the film. But, did I enjoy the film? Hell no. Did I find it interesting? Nope. Would I recommend it? Not enthusiastically.
So, why is everyone raving about it? What it all comes down to is that I haven't drunk the David O. Russell Kool-Aid. Russell is the latest "it" director, a mantle strengthened by his reputation as an "actor's director" and his legion of loyal actors who want to work with him again and again. But all that glitters is not gold. I hope he will surprise me again, someday, with a film that has the sparkle, humor, and relevance of SLP. But until David O. Russell proves that SLP wasn't a fluke in his film canon, I'll continue to pass on the Kool-Aid like a sober kid in an overcrowded frat house filled with alcoholics drunk on their own self-importance.
American Hustle itself is an elaborate hustle, one whose disco soundtrack, vampy dresses, and over-the-top perms distract the audience from the terrible truth: that this film is only pretending to be something great, when it fact it's as fake and unsubstantial as Christian Bale's hair piece.
American Hustle is the latest film from director David O. Russell, whose Silver Linings Playbook made out quite well last year. I loved SLP-- it was the rare anti-romantic comedy that was actually, well, a romantic comedy. The cast had an easy task-- the characters were quirky and hopelessly flawed, an assortment of funny, honest, and unique men and women who were so profoundly of their world that you believed every line, trusted every shot, and rooted for their success. Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence helmed the film with intensity, humor, and a lot of profanity, and it became apparent that their characters' imperfections made Pat and Tiffany perfect for each other. I cared about Pat and Tiffany, their struggles, and the story that brought them together.
But, that's just the problem with American Hustle-- I didn't care about the story at all, and the characters' imperfections amounted to absolutely nothing. It is as if this film were more interested in creating caricatures rather than real characters. Now, I'll be the first to admit that Russell generally gets phenomenal performances from his actors. But, a great performance can only go so far-- the character itself must be compelling. Though the characters in American Hustle were interesting, I didn't care for them; consequently, I couldn't care about the story-- their journeys were meaningless, insignificant, and unimportant to me. As a result, Russell alienated me for 138 minutes, a running-time that crawled by at a snail's pace.
Simply because of the performances, I respect the film. But, did I enjoy the film? Hell no. Did I find it interesting? Nope. Would I recommend it? Not enthusiastically.
So, why is everyone raving about it? What it all comes down to is that I haven't drunk the David O. Russell Kool-Aid. Russell is the latest "it" director, a mantle strengthened by his reputation as an "actor's director" and his legion of loyal actors who want to work with him again and again. But all that glitters is not gold. I hope he will surprise me again, someday, with a film that has the sparkle, humor, and relevance of SLP. But until David O. Russell proves that SLP wasn't a fluke in his film canon, I'll continue to pass on the Kool-Aid like a sober kid in an overcrowded frat house filled with alcoholics drunk on their own self-importance.
American Hustle itself is an elaborate hustle, one whose disco soundtrack, vampy dresses, and over-the-top perms distract the audience from the terrible truth: that this film is only pretending to be something great, when it fact it's as fake and unsubstantial as Christian Bale's hair piece.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
The Hobbit: The Romanticization of Tauriel
THE ELVES ARE BACK. I repeat, THE ELVES ARE BACK. Thank God
for that, because the elves weren’t in the first Hobbit... and it was boring as hell. But The Desolation of Smaug (I looooove that word, btw. Smauuuuuuuug. I want to bellow it into a
loudspeaker.) was surprisingly not boring. Scientific proof, people: the elves
make everything better.
Legolas is back! (Orlando Bloom, I love you, but never try to do Shakespeare again; you belong in Middle-earth, not Broadway.) Lee Pace is
the Elf-King—and he’s meaner than Anne Hathaway on a starve-day. Benedict
Cumberbatch is the wickedly dark voice of Smauuuuuug! Luke Evans is a
totally sympathetic (and studly) bargeman! Stephen Fry is a vaguely Louis XIV-esque, goofy tyrant with questionable hygiene and even more questionable morals! (Translation: "Jabba the Hutt meets Louis XIV." See what I mean?) So many exciting things in this Hobbit, people, that I only started to
get restless at hour 1.75 out of 2.75—not bad!
But, I really want to talk about the character "Tauriel."
Now, I haven’t read any of Tolkien’s books. My familiarity with Middle-earth
comes from Peter Jackson’s LOTR series, references from The Simpsons, and a tremendously trippy/traumatizing cartoon adaptation of The Hobbit from the 1970s that absolutely wrecked my childhood.
(Anecdotally, I break out in a cold sweat whenever I think about this movie; I
was so terrified of Gollum, that whenever he was on screen I would run away and
hide in the mud room of our house. I seriously can’t watch Gollum to this day, in any incarnation.
Creepy little bugger. Great, now I won’t be able to sleep tonight… ) But, Tauriel is a brand-spanking new character, conjured up by
the brilliance of PJ and his wife Fran. Though Tolkien purists may get their
LARPing capes and Gandalf beards in a twist over this, I, for one, love the idea of Tauriel.
Creating a new character that is consistent with Tolkien’s fantasy world is no
easy feat. And I love, love, love that PJ and Franny brought a
strong female character into the mix... especially since Tolkien's stories (in)famously lack gender parity. But,
fear not! We now have Tauriel! She is totally badass, well drawn, and complex. Move over, Liv Tyler. There's a new She-Elf in Mirkwood. (#NerdiestThingIHaveSaidAllDay)
 |
| Evangeline Lilly as "Tauriel." Is she channeling Robin Hood with an "I don't follow the rules" ethos?? |
But, it must be said: I'm not okay with the way PJ uses her character in the film. Don't get me wrong: her character is awesome, and Evangeline Lilly plays her with sharpness and sensitivity-- not an easy feat. But while I applaud PJ and Franny’s crafting of her, I
question the story path they’ve sent her down in this film. Without going into too much detail, I will reveal that she is a point in a love triangle. Though one character
pines for her, she—surprise!—develops feelings for another character. The
romantic in me loooooved this storyline, not only because it adds depth to her
chief suitor, but because Tauriel’s love interest (?) is so dang cute and cheeky.
(There is a glittering scene towards the end of the film where her
maybe-beloved makes a little speech about how Tauriel is like a celestial creature,
full of starlight and beauty. Swoon.
I can’t help myself with love-talk like that.) But, the feminist in me is disappointed. Why did the only female character in the entire film have to be part of a
love triangle?? PJ and Franny: don’t you see that this fits into the exhausted,
old-fashioned Hollywood mold where a woman is only useful if she is part of a
love story? How trite! How predictable! Why couldn’t she just be a badass
warrior who had to struggle against the prejudices leveled against her for being a
lower-order Elf? That’s drama enough!
I’m not the only reviewer who has brought up
these concerns about Tauriel—indeed, there seems to be a battle raging about her, with some angry at her and some loving her. Overall, I loved her character—she was feisty, interesting, and brought
some much-needed estrogen to this film. But at the same time, I can’t help wishing that
her sole purpose in the film wasn’t about heart strings and sentiment, but about
the same things that define the male characters: birthright, power,
fellowship. (Side note: allegedly, Evangeline Lilly, who is a LOTR fangirl, didn't like the love triangle subplot, either. She agreed to do the film on the condition that there would be no love triangle. But, obvs, things didn't pan out that way. Bummer.)
Bottom line: despite these plot flaws, Tauriel's character stands out. I'm rooting for her on her journey-- even if it is a love journey. Why? Because, fellowship. And, isn't that what Tolkien's work is all about?
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Here's Hoping for a Magnificent Maleficent
YOU. GUYS.
Disney released this poster today:
My conclusion: Disney's still got it! I think it's awesome that its willing to go so dark with one of the iconic, old-fashioned relics from the first Disney Golden Age. Personally, I think Sleeping Beauty has been long overlooked in the let's-reload-old-fairy-tales bandwagon. We've seen Cinderella stories ad nauseam (but, not that there's anything wrong with that). Beauty and the Beast has even gotten spoofed and its own CW update. And, as it turns out, 2012 was the year of the Snow White love fest. (Mirror, Mirror was a family-friendly, tongue-in-cheek homage to fairy tales with a quirky-delightful Bollywood dance number at the end-- Ned Stark dancing Bollywood?? OKAY! And, I might have been the only one who liked Snow White and the Huntsman, BUT I LIKED SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN. I think we have to give the always exceptional Charlize Theron some credit for breaking ground in what is sure to be a new trend in fleshing out villain stories from classic fairy tales.) Maybe it's because I recently saw Matthew Bourne's brilliant, gothic reimagining of the Sleeping Beauty ballet at New York City Center, but I'm totally re-embracing the age-old story of Aurora, an evil fairy witch, and the handsome prince who saves her with true love's kiss. (Prince Philip, btw, is on my short list for studly 'toon dudes. Just saying.)
Also, whose idea was it to cast Angelina in this?? Because, GENIUS. Seriously, just look at her.
So, the short of the long is this: I'm cautiously optimistic! Maleficent looks like it could be magnificently stylish and cool! Stay tuned for a review next summer....
Disney released this poster today:
My conclusion: Disney's still got it! I think it's awesome that its willing to go so dark with one of the iconic, old-fashioned relics from the first Disney Golden Age. Personally, I think Sleeping Beauty has been long overlooked in the let's-reload-old-fairy-tales bandwagon. We've seen Cinderella stories ad nauseam (but, not that there's anything wrong with that). Beauty and the Beast has even gotten spoofed and its own CW update. And, as it turns out, 2012 was the year of the Snow White love fest. (Mirror, Mirror was a family-friendly, tongue-in-cheek homage to fairy tales with a quirky-delightful Bollywood dance number at the end-- Ned Stark dancing Bollywood?? OKAY! And, I might have been the only one who liked Snow White and the Huntsman, BUT I LIKED SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN. I think we have to give the always exceptional Charlize Theron some credit for breaking ground in what is sure to be a new trend in fleshing out villain stories from classic fairy tales.) Maybe it's because I recently saw Matthew Bourne's brilliant, gothic reimagining of the Sleeping Beauty ballet at New York City Center, but I'm totally re-embracing the age-old story of Aurora, an evil fairy witch, and the handsome prince who saves her with true love's kiss. (Prince Philip, btw, is on my short list for studly 'toon dudes. Just saying.)
Also, whose idea was it to cast Angelina in this?? Because, GENIUS. Seriously, just look at her.
So, the short of the long is this: I'm cautiously optimistic! Maleficent looks like it could be magnificently stylish and cool! Stay tuned for a review next summer....
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Pretty, Pretty Princess(es)
Boom. Out of nowhere my day was just made... The trailer for the new Princess Diana biopic (appropriately called Diana) has arrived. Hallelujah! Ever since one of my favorite gals from Oz was announced to star as the tragic royal, I knew this movie would be goooooooood. Seriously. Naomi Watts is consistently stellar in her roles (she stole scenes in Mulholland Drive, 21 Grams, The Painted Veil and The Impossible, just to name a few) and I can't wait to see what vulnerability, grace, and passion she brings to this role.
There is so much I love about this trailer!! It's like a reel of the "best of Diana" from the last two years of her life-- her charity work, her role as a pursued globetrotter, her fashion, and her human-centered approach to everything she did. The Elton John-esque score only adds to the awesomeness.
Coincidentally, 2013 is the year of princesses. Another princess biopic (really, there's no such thing as too many princesses) has its eyes firmly on the Oscars with a holiday 2013 release date. Watts' bff and fellow Aussie Nicole Nidman will be starring as the twentieth century's other much-loved, much-tragic, much-iconic royal starlet, Princess Grace of Monaco. While we're still waiting on a trailer for this slice of cinematic joy, here's a fabulous teaser pic.
Holy. Guacamole. If that's not perfect casting, I don't know what is. Olivier Dahan, the French director behind this flick is no novice to biopics. Remember that strange and beautiful biopic about Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose? Yup, that's Dahan's handiwork. He directed the brilliant Marion Cotillard to a much-deserved Oscar win. So, perhaps Nicole Kidman will also benefit from his genius? (Not that she needs any help on that account.) We shall see.
Regardless, if Diana lives up to its potential (though its late-summer release date dampens that prospect, unfortunately), we could see not one, but two princess flicks bitch-slapping it out during awards season. What fun!!
There is so much I love about this trailer!! It's like a reel of the "best of Diana" from the last two years of her life-- her charity work, her role as a pursued globetrotter, her fashion, and her human-centered approach to everything she did. The Elton John-esque score only adds to the awesomeness.
Coincidentally, 2013 is the year of princesses. Another princess biopic (really, there's no such thing as too many princesses) has its eyes firmly on the Oscars with a holiday 2013 release date. Watts' bff and fellow Aussie Nicole Nidman will be starring as the twentieth century's other much-loved, much-tragic, much-iconic royal starlet, Princess Grace of Monaco. While we're still waiting on a trailer for this slice of cinematic joy, here's a fabulous teaser pic.
Holy. Guacamole. If that's not perfect casting, I don't know what is. Olivier Dahan, the French director behind this flick is no novice to biopics. Remember that strange and beautiful biopic about Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose? Yup, that's Dahan's handiwork. He directed the brilliant Marion Cotillard to a much-deserved Oscar win. So, perhaps Nicole Kidman will also benefit from his genius? (Not that she needs any help on that account.) We shall see.
Regardless, if Diana lives up to its potential (though its late-summer release date dampens that prospect, unfortunately), we could see not one, but two princess flicks bitch-slapping it out during awards season. What fun!!
Monday, June 3, 2013
R.I.P. King in the North
Caution: spoilers below! If you haven't seen episode 3.9 of Game of Thrones yet, don't read on unless you want to be bitterly disappointed. Also, if you haven't seen episode 3.9 of Game of Thrones yet, what the hell are you waiting for???
Friends, Fans, Comrades: I've come to bury the Starks and to praise them. Last night, we, the dearly devoted fandom of dire wolves and dragons, imps and hands, witnessed one of the most heart-wrenching, soul-crushing moments in television history: the Red Wedding. On what was supposed to be a joyful occasion, goodwill turned to barbarism as Robb Stark, his wife Talisa, his mother Catelyn, and countless Stark bannermen were brutally murdered by Freys and Boltons. Robb Stark, the would-be King in the North, was a miscarried avenger, whose mission to bring the Lannisters to their knees for what they did to his late, great father Lord Eddard Stark was cut tragically, unjustly short.
GAME OF THRONES, WTF.
Other bloggers will break down the excruciating (but brilliant) episode for you. And smug fans of the novels will obnoxiously brag and gloat about their knowing about the event for years (as if they have ownership over the story). I could talk about the use of haunting music (with a member of Coldplay in the band), the expert narrative flow, or the stellar acting. But it wouldn't feel right; it wouldn't feel human to talk about these things. I don't know if I'll ever shake what I witnessed last night: the shock and horror on the face of a pregnant woman who was stabbed repeatedly, deeply in her stomach; the rage and grief echoing in the hoarse screams of a woman who has buried her husband and watched as her own son was struck down like a wild boar cornered in the woods. THIS. WAS. TOO. MUCH. I'm a loyal Game of Thrones fan and will remain one until the series concludes. But, last night was brutal. These images will haunt the rest of the show, shaping how I approach, react, and interpret every episode, every character, every twist.
With this in mind, I will watch each episode with a wary, scarred skepticism (which is probably what that insensitive jerk, George R.R. Martin, wants). What will they do to the characters-- and to me, the viewer-- next?? The show's producers keep one-upping themselves. First, Ned Stark's death was a beautifully executed tragedy. Now, his son is mercilessly slaughtered, along with his pregnant wife and long-suffering mother in what was supposed to be a "safe" situation. If they keep one-upping these death scenes, what's next?? Will Joffrey strangle Margaery to death with (God forbid) the umbilical cord of their unborn child? Will Danearys be drawn and quartered while her insides are consumed by a flock of three-eyed ravens who came in the night?? Whatever the producers have in store for us, I can guarantee you two things: 1. it ain't pretty, and 2. I don't know if my heart can take it.
I don't know about you, but I need to reverse this TV depression. That's why I'm returning to the best scene of this season and, arguably, the entire series thus far: the moment when Danearys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, and a list of other badass titles, became an emancipator and unleashed her dragons. I admit it: I will always be a Stark through and through, but I've got to back a new horse in this terrible, bloody race. Since my king is dead (may the old and new gods grant him peace), and though I will always hold his memory sacred, I need to find a new champion. Dany, I'm looking at you. Take the throne and kill the brutes. But she won't be alone in this quest-- I hope that Arya, my favorite spitfire, gets her moment of vengeance. When she brings death to the murderers, I hope it's gruesome and glorious.
But, until that moment comes, I will watch this on repeat to keep my wounded spirits up.
Friends, Fans, Comrades: I've come to bury the Starks and to praise them. Last night, we, the dearly devoted fandom of dire wolves and dragons, imps and hands, witnessed one of the most heart-wrenching, soul-crushing moments in television history: the Red Wedding. On what was supposed to be a joyful occasion, goodwill turned to barbarism as Robb Stark, his wife Talisa, his mother Catelyn, and countless Stark bannermen were brutally murdered by Freys and Boltons. Robb Stark, the would-be King in the North, was a miscarried avenger, whose mission to bring the Lannisters to their knees for what they did to his late, great father Lord Eddard Stark was cut tragically, unjustly short.
GAME OF THRONES, WTF.
Other bloggers will break down the excruciating (but brilliant) episode for you. And smug fans of the novels will obnoxiously brag and gloat about their knowing about the event for years (as if they have ownership over the story). I could talk about the use of haunting music (with a member of Coldplay in the band), the expert narrative flow, or the stellar acting. But it wouldn't feel right; it wouldn't feel human to talk about these things. I don't know if I'll ever shake what I witnessed last night: the shock and horror on the face of a pregnant woman who was stabbed repeatedly, deeply in her stomach; the rage and grief echoing in the hoarse screams of a woman who has buried her husband and watched as her own son was struck down like a wild boar cornered in the woods. THIS. WAS. TOO. MUCH. I'm a loyal Game of Thrones fan and will remain one until the series concludes. But, last night was brutal. These images will haunt the rest of the show, shaping how I approach, react, and interpret every episode, every character, every twist.
With this in mind, I will watch each episode with a wary, scarred skepticism (which is probably what that insensitive jerk, George R.R. Martin, wants). What will they do to the characters-- and to me, the viewer-- next?? The show's producers keep one-upping themselves. First, Ned Stark's death was a beautifully executed tragedy. Now, his son is mercilessly slaughtered, along with his pregnant wife and long-suffering mother in what was supposed to be a "safe" situation. If they keep one-upping these death scenes, what's next?? Will Joffrey strangle Margaery to death with (God forbid) the umbilical cord of their unborn child? Will Danearys be drawn and quartered while her insides are consumed by a flock of three-eyed ravens who came in the night?? Whatever the producers have in store for us, I can guarantee you two things: 1. it ain't pretty, and 2. I don't know if my heart can take it.
I don't know about you, but I need to reverse this TV depression. That's why I'm returning to the best scene of this season and, arguably, the entire series thus far: the moment when Danearys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, and a list of other badass titles, became an emancipator and unleashed her dragons. I admit it: I will always be a Stark through and through, but I've got to back a new horse in this terrible, bloody race. Since my king is dead (may the old and new gods grant him peace), and though I will always hold his memory sacred, I need to find a new champion. Dany, I'm looking at you. Take the throne and kill the brutes. But she won't be alone in this quest-- I hope that Arya, my favorite spitfire, gets her moment of vengeance. When she brings death to the murderers, I hope it's gruesome and glorious.
But, until that moment comes, I will watch this on repeat to keep my wounded spirits up.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Gatsby!
So, I'm a huuuuuge "Baz from Oz" Luhrmann junkie. As in, no matter how poorly reviewed his movie actually is, I'll still swoon for it. Remember that train-wreck known as Australia? I. LOVED. IT. It got poor to mixed reviews and more or less flopped on this side of the Pacific. It was criticized for being too long, too unfocused, too melodramatic. But, it absolutely moved me. By God, every time the crazy cute kid's eyes twinkled and he magically whispered, "I sing you to me, Mrs. Boss," my heart swelled and exploded. (The movie also made me an emotional mess, and I ugly sobbed like Claire Danes in a dramatic role.) I've already mentioned how I feel about his 1990s Romeo + Juliet. And don't even get me started on the masterpiece known as Moulin Rouge. I could devote a whole month's worth of blog posts describing how much I love that movie. Seriously, I think I might have a Baz problem. Hello, my name is Yankee Belle. And I'm a Baz Luhrmann addict.
Baz from Oz's newest flick is an adaptation of one of the most widely assigned books in English Lit classes across the country-- the one, the only, the great The Great Gatsby. Full disclosure: I'm not a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel. Shocking, isn't it? Ride me off the interwebs on a rail, berate me, do what you will. When I first read the novel as a bookish sophomore in high school, I couldn't find anything appealing about the so-called "Great American Novel" (whatever that means). Daisy was too unlikeable, Gatsby was too cray cray, and Nick Carraway... well, I just thought Nick was sad, pathetic, and boring as hell. So when I heard that my preciousssss Baz from Oz was producing yet another adaptation of this jazz-age novel (see: 1926, 1949, 1974, 2000, and 2002), I was torn. I hated the material, but loved the director.
As it happens, I was pleasantly surprised with The Great Gatsby. I liked it. I think I'm in the minority of people who liked it, but I really, really liked it. Yes, it's flawed. Yes, it's clunky at times. Yes, I still find Daisy absolutely insufferable. But, Luhrmann did what Luhrmann does best: like a bottle of chilled, irresistible champagne, the film is over-the-top and bubbly, and it pops and explodes with the thrill, chaos, and vitality of the Jazz Age. Indeed, the film is drunk on its own glamour and splendour, gaily Charlestoning to the rhythm and sounds of an insulated, surreal world entirely of its own making. The (in)famous party scenes that punctuate the novel are overwhelming and boisterous on screen, reminding the viewer that, yes, Baz Luhrmann knows what he's doing. Excess is everywhere, and he throws his audience right into it.
Surprisingly, this is a very faithful adaptation; in fact, it's almost devotional and reverential. As the film opens, the audience sees a beautifully wrought art deco title of the film. We are hurtled through it and progress towards a green light in the very center of the screen, and the light expands and winks at us as we approach it without ever reaching it. Anyone who's ever read Gatsby knows the importance of this light, that flickering specter that beckons and haunts Jay Gatsby and propels him onwards in his quest to reclaim lost love. From the outset, Luhrmann honors the source material.
Indeed, Luhrmann is in love with Fitzgerald's language. Beautiful passages aren't just uttered on screen; the really, really poetic ones are splashed across the screen. In the scene where Gatsby recounts the first time he kissed Daisy, Luhrmann heightens the magic of the scene so it becomes an explosion of emotion and anticipation, a visual, verbal, and musical confluence that captures hope, longing, and beauty. Fitzgerald's words float across the screen as they are spoken, underscoring the poetry of the prose: "He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God." Now, some critics didn't respond well to this technique in the film. (Ahem. I'm looking at you, Linda Holmes.) But, I think Luhrmann executed it beautifully. The ineffable moments that fill the pages of The Great Gatsby are too big, too important, too swollen with humanity to be contained merely in language or images; so, Luhrmann brings together sight and sound to paint the feeling of these scenes, to create an emotional moment that washed over the audience. It turns out Luhrmann actually listened to the novel-- he didn't actually read it! That explains why he is in love with the language and hears music in it.
I need to talk about Leo now. (Because, let's face it, I always love the chance to talk about Leo.) He was, in a word, fantastic as Gatsby. Throughout the movie I beamed at him like a proud girlfriend-- he's come a long way from Growing Pains, folks! Watching him in this role was like watching a reel of the "Best of DiCaprio Roles": he blended the boyish romanticism of Jack Dawson from Titanic, the haunted maturity of Dominic Cobb from Inception, and the old-school polish of Frank Wheeler from Revolutionary Road. I cared about Gatsby in a way I never did in the novel. Also, that face:
I mean, can man be more perfect?? (A question for the philosophers...) But seriously, Leo's performance stood out from the pack. There was Mrs. Marcus Mumford (that's Carey Mulligan for you poor souls who aren't Mumford & Sons fans) as a pretty good Daisy, but the role was unevenly written. Tobey Maguire was an overly simple Nick Carraway-- his innocent, doe-eyed charm worked perfectly in Pleasantville (remember that gem??), but seems too one-dimensional for the pulse and intrigue of Gatsby. Leo was clearly the leader in this movie, a welcome turn for an actor who has too often been overlooked by critics. (I'm looking at you, Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences. Get your act together, you old fogies!)
Other reviews have gushed over the music, gawked at the scrumptious costumes, or nit-picked over style. So, I won't delve into that. Overall, Ole Baz from Oz managed to lovingly pay homage to a work of literature that he clearly respects. And-- bonus-- he did so in a way entirely his own. This movie did exactly what an adaptation is supposed to-- it challenged me to think about the source material in new ways. After seeing the film, I appreciated Fitzgerald's language as I've never done before; I connected with Fitzgerald's characters as I've never done before; and I understood Fitzgerald's story as I've never done before. Everything old is suddenly new again. And that, Old Sport, is why you should see The Great Gatsby.
-- Yankee Belle
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Suit Up
I went into Iron Man 3
with high hopes. After being let down by
the second installment, The Avengers
restored my faith that an Iron Man movie and a high quality film did not have
to be mutually exclusive. And, for the
most part, I was not disappointed.
Iron Man 3 picks
up in the aftermath of the events of New York (a.k.a. the ending of The Avengers). Tony Stark finds himself plagued with
insecurities and channels those feelings into trying to perfect his suits. I
found the movie most compelling when it looked at the following question: what
happens to these superheroes after
they manage to save the world?
Sometimes, as the movie shows, there are negative physical and emotional
repercussions. But Tony is forced out of
hiding when his nightmares come true.
The Mandarin hits a little too close to home.
Robert Downey Jr. is in fine form as Mr. Stark. If you lose focus for a second, you will miss
one of his trademark snarky lines.
Gwyneth Paltrow also provides moments of “Woohoo! Girl power!
Solidarity!” as Pepper Potts.
While I won’t give away the reason why, let’s just say she gets to suit
up this time. It was nice to see her
character step out of the background.
There was one aspect of the film that did not sit well with
me. I am probably in the minority on
this one. I cannot talk about it in
detail without giving away a HUGE spoiler.
So, only the people who have seen the film will understand what I am
talking about: THE TWIST. You know, the BIG TWIST. For me, it was a let down, and I did not feel
completely satisfied when the movie was over because of it….and that’s all I
can really say on that matter. But trust
me, you’ll know what I am talking about when you see the film.
Overall, however, Iron Man 3 was exactly what it needed to
be. It quenches the thirst for action
while making you laugh (for the right reasons) at the same time. As the beginning of the second phase of The Avengers cycle, the movie makes me
excited for the future Marvel films. However, I hope that the issues with the contracts are resolved. You cannot have The Avengers 2 without Iron Man…and you
cannot have Iron Man without Robert Downey Jr.
I’ll end this review on an anecdote. While I was watching Iron Man 3, something great happened. A lull came over the audience after one of
the intense action scenes. Amidst the
quiet a young boy declared, “That was awesome!” Everyone in the audience laughed, and I had
a huge smile on my face. That is the reason people love to go to
the movies. They want it to be
amazing. They want it to be an
escape. They want it to be awesome.
To that little boy and to this Southern Belle, Iron Man 3 certainly is.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Hold onto Your Butts
Please join the Belles in welcoming our very first guest blogger, Anna of Hungry, Hungry Heneseys! Anna was kind enough to share her absolute, unwavering love of Jurassic Park with us. Thanks for the great post, Anna!
For those of you who have not seen Jurassic Park yet, let me give you some background. JP is based on Michael Crichton's book by the same title. Starring Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Richard Attenborough, and Jeff Goldblum (be still, my heart), it was first released in 1993. At the time it was released, it was the highest grossing film to date, and was not surpassed until Titanic in 1997. JP deservedly won three Academy Awards, for sound mixing, sound editing, and visual effects. In fact, NPR recently published an interesting interview with the sound designer. It's pretty interesting, because I'm sure that before Jurassic Park, no two people would imagine the sound of a dinosaur the same way. After Jurassic Park though, it's a sure bet everyone thinks a t-rex sounds like it did in the movie.
The plot for Jurassic Park is fairly straightforward, but also has a great deal of depth. A wealthy businessman (John Hammond, played by Attenborough) decided to build an amusement park filled with dinosaurs cloned from blood found in a mosquito. He wants famous paleontologists Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler (Neill and Dern) to endorse his park in exchange for funding their digs. Join by Hammond's grandchildren, they tour the park, but are halted halfway through their tour due to a tropical storm that knocks out the power. In addition to the power failure, head IT coordinator Dennis Nedry (Wayne Knight) is plotting to sell the dinosaur embryos to a genetic development company. He cuts the power during the storm in order to steal the embryos, which causes the dinosaurs to break down their fences and run free. After a bunch of close calls when Dr. Grant and the grandchildren almost get eaten by the t-rex, suffer electrocution, a dinosaur stampede, and a velociraptor attack, the power is finally restored, and everyone escapes the island. The viewer is left to believe that the island will soon be overrun by dinosaurs.
When I heard Jurassic Park was being re-released in 3D, I knew it was time for me to see my first 3D movie. Previously, my only experience with 3D was in Disney World (think "The Muppets" and "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids"). I pictured these awful plastic glasses that hurt after having them on for 3.5 minutes. So I was pleasantly surprised when I got an individually packaged pair of glasses that I was able to wear the entire movie without even knowing they were there. I was also pleasantly surprised the movie did not go overboard with the 3D effects. The majority of the movie, with the exception of the major action segments, looked essentially like a 2D movie. My only complaint is that these portions had some blurry footage, especially in the foreground. One scene where I really noticed it was when Nedry met the researcher at the restaurant. There was a fruit stand in the foreground that was very blurry during the camera pan that I had never seen in the original version, and trust me, I've seen the 2D version a lot.
If you, the reader, have not yet seen Jurassic Park, either in 2D or 3D, I highly recommend it. Although released 20 years ago, the animatronics are absolutely incredible. You would never guess the movie came out such a long time ago. Spielberg hired a real paleontologist to assist in their designs and motions. I mean, this stuff made George Lucas cry it was so good. The music for the movie is also just breathtaking, and cannot be overlooked as one of the best aspects of the movie. Camera pans, coupled with John Williams' beautiful theme, give me goosebumps every time I see the helicopter leave Jurassic Park for the final time. And although the relationship between Drs. Grant and Sattler was much different in Crichton's novel than it was portrayed on the screen, the casting selection was excellent. Not everyone agrees with this though; Roger Ebert's review states:
"The human characters are a ragtag bunch of half-realized, sketched-in-personalities, who exist primarily to scream, utter dire warnings, and outwit the monsters."
Um, listen Rog, this movie was based on a book, and the actors were portraying the characters in the book! Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't scream and crap your pants if a dinosaur had you upside down in a car and roaring at you. Oh wait... you can't anymore. Oops!
Overall, JP3D is just as good as it is in 2D. I had never seen the movie in a theater with surround sound, and it is definitely much more intense on the big screen. I personally thought the most intense 3D moment would be when the t-res dumped the car off the ledge. Instead, I found the moment when I almost ripped off my glasses in fear was when Lex fell through the ceiling. The raptor jumped up to try to bite her leg off, and I actually grabbed my husband's arm in terror. No matter is you see it in 2D or 3D, Jurassic Park is a must see.
For those of you who have not seen Jurassic Park yet, let me give you some background. JP is based on Michael Crichton's book by the same title. Starring Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Richard Attenborough, and Jeff Goldblum (be still, my heart), it was first released in 1993. At the time it was released, it was the highest grossing film to date, and was not surpassed until Titanic in 1997. JP deservedly won three Academy Awards, for sound mixing, sound editing, and visual effects. In fact, NPR recently published an interesting interview with the sound designer. It's pretty interesting, because I'm sure that before Jurassic Park, no two people would imagine the sound of a dinosaur the same way. After Jurassic Park though, it's a sure bet everyone thinks a t-rex sounds like it did in the movie.
The plot for Jurassic Park is fairly straightforward, but also has a great deal of depth. A wealthy businessman (John Hammond, played by Attenborough) decided to build an amusement park filled with dinosaurs cloned from blood found in a mosquito. He wants famous paleontologists Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler (Neill and Dern) to endorse his park in exchange for funding their digs. Join by Hammond's grandchildren, they tour the park, but are halted halfway through their tour due to a tropical storm that knocks out the power. In addition to the power failure, head IT coordinator Dennis Nedry (Wayne Knight) is plotting to sell the dinosaur embryos to a genetic development company. He cuts the power during the storm in order to steal the embryos, which causes the dinosaurs to break down their fences and run free. After a bunch of close calls when Dr. Grant and the grandchildren almost get eaten by the t-rex, suffer electrocution, a dinosaur stampede, and a velociraptor attack, the power is finally restored, and everyone escapes the island. The viewer is left to believe that the island will soon be overrun by dinosaurs.
When I heard Jurassic Park was being re-released in 3D, I knew it was time for me to see my first 3D movie. Previously, my only experience with 3D was in Disney World (think "The Muppets" and "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids"). I pictured these awful plastic glasses that hurt after having them on for 3.5 minutes. So I was pleasantly surprised when I got an individually packaged pair of glasses that I was able to wear the entire movie without even knowing they were there. I was also pleasantly surprised the movie did not go overboard with the 3D effects. The majority of the movie, with the exception of the major action segments, looked essentially like a 2D movie. My only complaint is that these portions had some blurry footage, especially in the foreground. One scene where I really noticed it was when Nedry met the researcher at the restaurant. There was a fruit stand in the foreground that was very blurry during the camera pan that I had never seen in the original version, and trust me, I've seen the 2D version a lot.
If you, the reader, have not yet seen Jurassic Park, either in 2D or 3D, I highly recommend it. Although released 20 years ago, the animatronics are absolutely incredible. You would never guess the movie came out such a long time ago. Spielberg hired a real paleontologist to assist in their designs and motions. I mean, this stuff made George Lucas cry it was so good. The music for the movie is also just breathtaking, and cannot be overlooked as one of the best aspects of the movie. Camera pans, coupled with John Williams' beautiful theme, give me goosebumps every time I see the helicopter leave Jurassic Park for the final time. And although the relationship between Drs. Grant and Sattler was much different in Crichton's novel than it was portrayed on the screen, the casting selection was excellent. Not everyone agrees with this though; Roger Ebert's review states:
"The human characters are a ragtag bunch of half-realized, sketched-in-personalities, who exist primarily to scream, utter dire warnings, and outwit the monsters."
Um, listen Rog, this movie was based on a book, and the actors were portraying the characters in the book! Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't scream and crap your pants if a dinosaur had you upside down in a car and roaring at you. Oh wait... you can't anymore. Oops!
Overall, JP3D is just as good as it is in 2D. I had never seen the movie in a theater with surround sound, and it is definitely much more intense on the big screen. I personally thought the most intense 3D moment would be when the t-res dumped the car off the ledge. Instead, I found the moment when I almost ripped off my glasses in fear was when Lex fell through the ceiling. The raptor jumped up to try to bite her leg off, and I actually grabbed my husband's arm in terror. No matter is you see it in 2D or 3D, Jurassic Park is a must see.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Iron Man, Superman, and the Final Frontier
With the summer movie season fast approaching, the Southern
Belle wanted to let you know some of the action movies she’s planning to see.
IRON MAN 3 (May 3rd)
I’ll be the first person to admit that Iron Man 2 was a major miss. It seemed forced and lacked the chemistry
found in the first film. But with the
Avengers, a sense of life was brought back into the character. This was the Tony Stark we grew to love. (It definitely helps that Robert Downey Jr.
has seemingly morphed into his character.)
Early reviews of the third installment have been, for the most part,
extremely favorable. From the trailers, this movie has all the components to be
an enjoyable and successful way to kick of the second phase of The Avengers
universe.
MAN OF STEEL (June 14th)
With the achievement of the Marvel franchise, it was only a
matter of time before the film studios tried again with DC universe. The 2006 movie Superman Returns was too introspective for mass audiences, and thus
failed to garner the desired popularity.
Christopher Nolan acting as a producer adds some legitimacy to this
latest interpretation of Superman. It
seems this film will follow with the trend of making the superhero film
“darker” and “gritty,” a combination The
Dark Knight trilogy proved successful.
We’ll wait and see if this new approach breathes life into this hopeful
franchise.
STAR TREK: INTO DARKNESS (May 17th)
A full disclosure: I am not a Trekkie. I have not seen every episode of every
incarnation of the series. This did not
stop me from thoroughly enjoying J.J. Abram’s first installment of the new
reboot. I love it when a movie has a
healthy balance of drama, action, and humor, and Star Trek certainly does.
Also, a hero is only as good as his villain, and Abrams chose an
extraordinary adversary for Captain Kirk and his crew. Benedict Cumberbatch has proven himself
countless times both in television and film.
There is no doubt in my mind that he will give an amazing performance.
What summer movies are you excited to see?
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