Podcasting Them Softly

We’ll be presenting a retrospective review of Nicholas Meyer’s riveting “Horatio Hornblower in outer space” adventure in a few weeks.  For now, enjoy these screen caps sharing the feelings we have for this gem of a sci-fi film.

The road’s been rocky for the fledgling DC comic books extended cinematic universe (tagged with the clunky acronym DCEU), with a dark, violent Superman reboot, a controversial introduction of everyone’s favorite Gotham City orphan all grown up, and a deplorable studio hack job forced on David Ayer’s antihero romp.  One of the shining moments agreed on by almost all fans was the inclusion of Wonder Woman in Batman v Superman: Dawn Of Justice, raising expectations for a solo adventure that’s finally being released to the world this week.  There’s some very good news for Time Warner, DC and anyone else who’s paying attention, which is that actress Gal Gadot continues to make a riveting heroine.  Every minute she’s onscreen, you can’t take your eyes off her; heroic, beautiful, strong, and warm, she’s a marvel and the long wait to see the character front and center on film is rewarded by the casting and performance alone.  As for the rest of it, your enjoyment will vary depending on how interested you are in slipping on the fraying comfort jeans of the now typical superhero origin story.

Set in a nostalgic milieu that occasionally borders on Captain America:  The First Avenger copyright infringement, Wonder Woman starts with our heroine’s journey from the magic island where her Amazonian tribe, created by Zeus himself, lives in a literal bubble to the raging battles of World War I going on everywhere else.  The door to the real world is opened by a man, but at no point are we ever led to believe anyone has the presence and agency that Gadot’s Diana Prince has.  The screenplay does a wobbly but noble job of ruminating on the role of male aggression and violence in the world, offering Wonder Woman up as a have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too alternative to their historically destructive tendencies by engaging in the destruction at a higher level than any of the boys have ever been capable of.  Director Patty Jenkins does a fairly good job of trying to embrace and squeeze the most of the quiet moments, sometimes nailing the burgeoning romance between Diana and Chris Pine’s Steve Trevor but other times allows explication scenes to drag for no particularly apparent reason.  She does manage to simultaneously ground and celebrate this historic character, who arrives at a lovely ‘why we fight’ philosophical end point by the final reel that feels honestly earned.

The film does suffer from a variety of familiar beats, with standard bad guys (spoiler alert for the historically challenged, there are Germans and they’re up to no good), a predictable twist that ends in one of the more disconcerting bad guy casting jobs the genre’s ever seen, and of course a series of fight sequences that roll out with a scheduled regularity that one can set their watch to.  But those action scenes, clearly influenced by the hand of co-writer and producer Zack Snyder, crackle and pop with every bit of proud slow motion swagger and high speed collision you’ve come to expect from big budget comic book fare in the digital age, and it’s fairly apparent that most if not all of these going forward are going to end with the inky darkness of night, punctuated by fire.  But again, Gal Gadot commands the frame from start to finish, so it’s tough not to be caught up in her confident jaunt through her first full film.

The skunky stench and hazy after-effects of marijuana can be found all over Paul Thomas Anderson’s hysterical, bewildering, utterly zonked-out shaggy-dog detective movie Inherent Vice. Based on Thomas Pynchon’s much celebrated novel, this is a wild, ridiculous, totally blazed piece of work that had “cult-classic” status written all over it the moment it was released in theaters a few years ago. Different and yet similar to obvious inspirations such as The Big Lebowski, The Big Sleep, and The Long Goodbye, Inherent Vice likely annoyed many who went in looking for something more traditional, but at the same time, was probably “just-right” for many others. There’ll be no real middle ground with this one. You’ve got to be interested in watching a perpetually stoned, lackadaisical, possibly hallucinating lead character that can’t seem to get out of his own way. The cast is peppered with tons of stars (Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson, Benicio Del Toro, a debauched Martin Short in one of the best scenes in the film) but Phoenix owned the picture. Coming on the heels of his exquisite and varied work in both The Master and Her, he delivered a totally different performance in Inherent Vice, cementing his chameleonic quality to any role he takes on, investing every performance with integrity, intensity, and odd charm. He’s long been one of my favorite actors and I can’t wait to see him in the new film by Lynne Ramsay that just premiered at Cannes.

The “plot” of Inherent Vice can be followed, but I’ll admit that it’s taken me a few viewings to fully digest everything that this film has to offer, as great movies allow for constant exploration. Because Phoenix’s character is essentially an unreliable narrator, and because everyone he comes into contact with screws with him in some way, there’s this sense of randomness to the plot that won’t be to everyone’s liking. Inherent Vice is more about the crazy characters and the druggy aroma and the floral dialogue and stony voice-over and the minutiae of the time period – those looking for an “air-tight” plot need to go find something else. It’s also about the collision of two subcultures, and how America, in particular Los Angeles, was rapidly changing during this time period. Josh Brolin absolutely nailed his supporting role as an angry LAPD officer who clashes with Phoenix multiple times throughout the story. And there’s some of the bravest nudity I’ve ever seen from an actress on the part of the lovely and talented Katherine Waterston, who injected her character with an earthy sensuality that you don’t normally see on the big screen. Inherent Vice carries a distinct visual atmosphere, with master shooter Robert Elswit’s purposefully hazy and scratchy cinematography being just the right tonal fit for the offbeat material. The on-location shooting adds to the cool-factor, and the play-through soundtrack is completely groovy – Can POWER!

Tim is joined by Twin Peaks Fanatic blogger/Blue Rose Magazine contributor and all around TP superfan Mya McBriar to discuss episodes 3 and 4 of David Lynch’s outstanding new work.

 

‘The Messenger: The Story Of Joan Of Arc’ (1999) dir. Luc Besson

I’m a big cheerleader for this film. I think this is a remarkable achievement. I find Besson’s direction and intentions pure and Jovovich is incredible in the title role. The post modern way in which screenwriter Andrew Birkin and Luc Besson tackle the story gives the film a real timeless quality and a sharp contemporary message. And the cinematography by Thierry Arbogast? Get out of town! Absolutely gorgeous!

Now, there are a couple of awkward moments in the film. Things that seem out of place for one reason or another. They are small and inconsequential save for one that I feel should be addressed. I do not believe this film does itself any favors by treating the murder/rape of Joan’s sister as a black comedy sketch. I think this damages the film at the very start and it takes a minute to recover from it. It is also entirely made up. Joan Of Arc did not have a sister brutally raped and murdered by the English. I’m sure Besson had his reasons but…

The Church is presented as an unwieldy political monster here – draconian and far reaching as well as hypocritical and rigid in its discipline. Its intentions anything but noble. The French Government learns of a peasant girl gaining notoriety for her religious visions and decides to use her in a shrewd attempt to reignite a flagging nationalism. Joan was a natural when it came to myth making and the French monarch saw in her a great opportunity. While Joan Of Arc’s devotion to the cause was intense and blinding, the character she created for herself was one to be manipulated by far more calculating minds. To the people, the Maid of Orleans was a symbol of many things – hope, a resurgent France, proof of God’s existence…but to the French Government and the Church – she was a tool. And a tool they used wisely.

The cast that appears in this film is glorious. Jovovich is assisted on all sides by the likes of Dustin Hoffman, Faye Dunaway, Vincent Cassel and John Malkovich and they all give incredible performances.

At the end, she burns. We know Joan doesn’t make it out alive. There’s a mock trial and political shenanigans. But Joan’s victory in this film isn’t the military campaigns, her legend building or ability to inspire religious simpletons. In a clever, revisionist move the filmmakers paint Joan Of Arc’s greatest triumph as her ability to finally forgive herself. She finally comes to understand that the voice she’s been answering to is not God’s but her own. She does not need God’s forgiveness for her sins. She simply needs her own forgiveness to find peace.

Let’s face it. People look themselves in the mirror and tell themselves vital lies every day to keep them going. And some of these lies are larger than others. Joan’s vital lie was her unwavering belief that everything that occurred to her had a religious explanation and thus justified her extreme behavior. This prevented her from seeing the larger picture and it is that narrative that ultimately brought her down. She failed to understand her role in a world of boundaries, governments and alliances.

The filmmakers ask us to accept that Joan Of Arc is neither saint, opportunist, lunatic, do-gooder, or glory seeker but instead a highly passionate and confused teenager made up of all these things that happened to come together at the right time and place to create an enduring piece of history. In her final hours she finds absolution from within, freeing herself at last. She does not burn as the ambitious and over zealous Joan Of Arc. She burns as the simple peasant girl from Orleans who wanted to confess and having finally done so, could embrace her fate.

The 1990 crime film Miller’s Crossing is one of my favorite films from the Coen brothers, a neo-noir gangster movie that gets better and better with each viewing, fully showcasing the Coen’s estimable gifts as storytellers and stylists, with bracing and dark wit balanced by stark violence, creating a rich, dense cinematic world that unfolds with sinister calm. Starring Gabriel Byrne, John Turturro, Marcia Gay Harden, Steve Buscemi, Mike Starr, Albert Finney, Jon Polito, and J.E. Freeman, the plot hinges on rival gangs and how one man navigates the tricky and duplicitous waters of engaging with both sides. Shot with formal precision by Barry Sonnenfeld (he also shot Raising Arizona and Blood Simple for the Coens) and judiciously edited by Michael R. Miller (Raising Arizona, Orgazmo), the film boasts a superb musical score from Coen-mainstay Carter Burwell (Fargo, Being John Malkovich), with everyone in the ensemble delivering pitch-perfect performances. Despite not finding a supporting theatrical audience, Miller’s Crossing has become a cult favorite in the years since its big-screen release, and one of the better offerings this genre has provided in decades. Look out for Sam Raimi and Frances McDormand in small roles, while the nods to Dashiell Hammett ground the film with a literary quality that kicks it up another notch.