Category: Film Review

The X-Files: Fight the Future is easily one of the best transitions ever for a TV show to feature film. Directed with supreme style and smarts by series veteran Rob Bowman and sporting absolutely fantastic widescreen cinematography from veteran shooter Ward Russell (Days of Thunder, The Last Boy Scout), who utilized a rich color palette in full 2.35:1 widescreen and made smart use of the excellent locations chosen for the story. I absolutely loved the Neanderthal/Quest for Fire-esque opening sequence with the first alien encounter – raw, nasty, primal, and scary. Series mastermind Chris Carter took full advantage of the inherently cinematic possibilities with his iconic material, and along with Frank Spotnitz and undoubtedly many others, crafted a fabulous continuation of the central alien mythology plot-line, while jacking everything up visually and thematically. I’ve gone back to this movie for years, not just out of my love for The X-Files in general, but because, on its own, it’s a damn good movie. Fine, some of it might be impenetrable to the casual viewer or non-fan, but even in those instances, the gripping set pieces, tremendous production design, and excellent performances should alleviate any concerns.

Bowman and Carter threw in nods to various political thrillers from the 70’s, most notably Alan Pakula’s masterpiece The Parallax View, and all throughout, there’s an unnerving vibe that fills each scene, from the ominous back-room deals with the Syndicate, to the sub-Antarctic government base that forms the absolutely smashing action-oriented finale. All of the regular faces from the TV show were present in the film, while the filmmakers brought in some excellent supporting players like Martin Landau, Armin Mueller Stahl, Blythe Danner, and Terry O’Quinn. The opening domestic terrorism bombing sequence is rivetingly staged, while the mid-film action set piece inside those incredibly sketchy domes out in those corn stalks was expertly shot, cut, and directed. And when those bees are released, the scene kicks it up a further notch. David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were at their best here as Mulder and Scully, and their “almost-kiss” moment registered as one of the absolute best moments in the series, big screen or small. Everything about this movie clicked, which you can’t say for the decade later follow up, The X-Files: I Want to Believe, or last year’s reboot. I’d love for them to get back on the big screen with another alien-centric narrative, as that’s where I’ve always felt the heart of this series rested.

 

50/50 is an honest and funny film that dares to stare cancer in the face and laugh at the issues that it creates. I was not prepared for how accomplished this film would be. This is a true story, one that’s sad but oddly uplifting, and lead actor Joseph Gordon Levitt was absolutely perfect in his role – understated, never going too hard for the emotions, always feeling 100% natural. Seth Rogen was spot-on here as Levitt’s best friend who has to deal with the fact that his buddy has been given 50/50 odds of survival after being diagnosed with cancer. He’s always able to make us laugh with his affable stoner routine, but when Rogen wants to get serious, as he did here and in Sarah Polley’s obscenely underrated Take This Waltz, he can be very effective. And for 50/50 to work at all, it needed a lot of genuine humor, as there’s nothing remotely funny about the situation that JGL’s character is facing. Unfortunately, cancer has become one of those almost universal things in the world, and if you haven’t been affected by it personally, then you probably know someone who has, perhaps a friend, family member, or a close loved one. There’s a moment in the film where JGL makes a startling confession to his therapist (the always lovely Anna Kendrick, who exudes confidence and smarts and warmth in everything she appears in) that he just wants people to stop bull-shitting him and tell him straight up that he’s going to die. It’s a great moment of acting and direction and it was then that the movie grabbed me by the heart.

Director Jonathan Levine has had an interesting career, starting with the cult horror item All the Boys Love Mandy Lane, the 90’s marijuana-infused period piece The Wackness, and the cute and quirky zombie rom-com Warm Bodies; he’s a tough filmmaker to pin down. But as you watch the film unfold, you notice a seriously talented hand guiding this graceful movie, and it’s all the more impressive to learn that Levine was a last minute replacement for another filmmaker who apparently left the project over creative differences. The humor and pathos are well balanced, nothing goes over the top, and Levine’s unforced manner in which he directs his actors adds to the organic quality to the entire piece. Terry Stacey’s intimate and measured cinematography is stylish but never ostentatious, and the editing is sharp as a tack. And it’s got a killer soundtrack – I don’t remember a collection of semi-older-pop songs in a movie that’s as good or as well selected as the ones sampled here. Michael Giacchino’s score is subtle yet highly effective, and that right there is why 50/50 works as well as it does. It never hammers you over the head with how inherently sad the entire scenario is, and because Levine doesn’t wallow in anything for too long, nothing ever becomes maudlin in the way that lesser movies dealing with this subject matter have been.

But the best asset of the entire piece is Will Reiser’s tender screenplay, who based the work on his own experiences, with JGL portraying him on screen. While comfortably predictable in some respects, he gets so much right in the little details, and for the first time in a long time, I felt that the voices of the thirtysomethings in this film were 100% believable depictions of actual people living in the here and now. The dialogue felt true to the times and to the people speaking, and the frequently colorful (and often times laugh-out-loud-funny) vulgarity was just what friends would say to each other. Confusing and stressful interactions with doctors were skillfully handled, and tearful and painful discussions with parents are heartrendingly examined (Anjelica Houston nails a few scenes as JGL’s mom). Plus, there’s this terrific scene where JGL, Rogen, Philip Baker Hall (really good in an uncharacteristic role) and Matt Frewer all get high on medicinal marijuana, and I swear, the way it’s shot and cut – you feel like you’re getting a contact high because of Levine’s aesthetic. I absolutely love this movie. You laugh in all the right spots, you choke up when necessary, and the film has a quietly powerful quality that’s very tough to convey with words. And without spoiling anything, the ending is fair and earned and completely believable. This is a potent slice of filmmaking that deserves a higher profile.

 

George Miller made one of the wiser decisions in modern film history when he recognized his limitations in the feminism department and brought Vagina Monologues scribe Eve Ensler on as a consultant to his franchise-rebooting summer smash Mad Max: Fury Road.  Nicolas Winding Refn, always a willing collaborator (in one of many examples, he let Bryan Cranston write his own death scene in Drive), has done one better and co-written his latest film, The Neon Demon, with the talented Mary Laws and Polly Stenham, and the results are nothing short of stellar.  The work is a grim meditation on society’s focus on beauty, spiked with unease, biting humor and a story that may well be Refn’s most fully realized.  In the wrong hands, this material could easily play as misogynist fantasy (something we already have an abundance of in Hollywood), but here the writers have stuck the landing on crafting a surprising and clever tale that reveals its intent slowly while satirizing our surface obsessions with almost limitless style.  In the dog eat dog world of the fashion industry, Refn has found the perfect metaphor for how chasing the ideal of beauty at all costs can devour us whole.

Speaking of style, the visual variety is Refn’s calling card,  and he’s outdone himself with The Neon Demon.  Applying his Kubrickian pristine framing and penchant for Lynchian dreamlike interludes to an industry based entirely on how things look, the director has crafted a near-flawless playground for his considerable talents.  Even better, it’s not mere eye candy—there is purpose and progression to every image he shows us, and within those images is some of the strongest work he’s drawn from his actors to date.  Each raised eyebrow, pregnant pause or quick sigh is loaded with meaning, and you won’t find a bad performance from any member of the cast.  Not to say the likes of Elle Fanning and Jena Malone simply gaze at each other for the duration; Refn and his co-writers have come up with some of the most stinging dialogue you’ll hear at the movies this year, sometimes uproarious and often sharp as a razor.  Nods to other genre films abound, from the older likes of Repulsion and The Hunger to more recent additions to the canon such as Under The Skin and The Witch, yet the film very much stands on its own two perfectly sculpted legs.  And in keeping with a current delightful trend of 80s-style synthesized scores, collaborator Cliff Martinez turns in some of his best work.

I’ll avoid diving into any great detail on the story, because to discuss it would be to rob the experience of its building momentum and payoffs.  Fanning is a simple waif from the south named Jesse who’s deposited herself in a seedy Los Angeles motel with dreams of modeling superstardom; as she points out to the lone sympathetic male character in the movie, she’s never been good at anything, but she’s always been pretty.  With an almost vampiric relish, everyone who enters Jesse’s orbit obsesses over her innocent beauty and either tries to claim it for themselves or resents it with feverish jealousy.  She quickly rises through the ranks of the modeling world, growing in experience and ego, seemingly supercharged by the attention and desires of all around her.  Where her powers lead her is the business of the third act, of which I will say little although those who find the first two more or less devoid of the R in Refn will be glad to hear that the last 10 minutes generated more walkouts at the screening I attended than any other I’ve ever been to, so patience will be rewarded–depending on your definition of reward, that is.  While the male characters are, with one exception, generally vile, this movie is squarely focused on women’s relationships with each other and how the ever elusive ideal of physical perfection shapes them, frequently for the worse.  The Neon Demon, bitter, beautiful pill that it is, may be Refn’s finest work to date.