Julia

Starring Will Arnett, Michael Cera, Zach Galifianakis, Rosario Dawson, Channing Tatum, Jenny Slate, and Ralph Fiennes

Directed by Chris McKay

Batman (Arnett) is used to working alone to save the city from constant threats of danger from his typical myriad of villains. But when the new, beautiful police commissioner Barbara Gordon (Dawson) establishes herself in Gotham, and the Joker (Galifianakis) devises his most deadly scheme yet, Batman is forced to rethink his modus operandi. On top of that, his isolated concept of family surrounded by childhood trauma is brought into question after accidentally adopting the quirky Dick Grayson (Cera). Batman is forced to reconsider his personal values and test his comfort zone in order to save the people of Gotham on a whole new scale.

I would consider this film a successful stream of consciousness piece. It was as though we were sitting in the writer’s room hearing somebody describe the premise or vision behind the film rather than watching a finished product. While this may sound boring or unprofessional (not that professionalism was at all a goal set forth by this movie), it was this rough, unfinished humor that made this film such a hit. Instead of actual sound affects, gunfire made human “pew pew” sounds. The new police commissioner graduated top of her class from “Harvard for police” and cleaned up crime in her last city using “statistics and compassion." The dialogue and jokes had this ad-lib feel that made the story far more endearing in a way that can be appreciated by children and adults alike. That is what set the humor in Lego Batman apart from other recent children’s movies in the best possible way.

Like the first Lego Movie, this film was chock-full of pop culture references. It poked fun at the film history of the Batman franchise, referring to our favorite DC hero’s previous hits and misses. Lego Batman was, in its entirety, a satire of Batman rather than a continuation of the canon. Will Arnett’s goofball adaptation of the famous vigilante exaggerated Batman’s intrinsic traits. He was the perfect caricature of the brooding, arrogant, loner billionaire generations have all come to love. But the references didn’t stop there. The movie poked fun at other superhero universes, including hits like Ironman and flops like Suicide Squad. Lego has a sweeping influence of brands franchises, and the film included legendary characters like Voldemort, King Kong, Tardis, and the Wicked Witch. Jokes referenced everything from children’s movies to Pulp Fiction, making the pop culture allusions something all ages can feel included in.

The Lego Batman Movie is a guaranteed pleaser. Although marketed to children, people of all ages and background can find something to love in this action-packed comedy. The star voice acting brings another element of fun and excellence to the movie. The easy-on-the-eyes computer animation gave McKay (dir) lots a free range while still carrying on the lego nostalgia. The off-beat humor is over the top without going too far and makes up for the arguably trite storyline. So while the story behind this movie may be less original than its 2014 predecessor, it is no less fun and can be enjoyed by all!

Starring Kirsten Dunst, Alexander Skarsgård, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Kiefer Sutherland, and John Hurt

Directed by Lars von Trier

On Justine (Dunst) and Michael’s (Skarsgård) wedding day, everything is seemingly perfect. However, as the pressures of the night heighten, Justine’s true colors begin to show. She confides in her sister Claire (Gainsbourg), explaining her struggle with depression. She becomes incapable of hiding her misery, and the night is ruined. In the film’s second part, Justine’s condition has worsened. Claire tries to help her sister, but she too is suffering in her own way. Though her scientist husband, John (Sutherland), claims the fly-by rogue planet Melancholia won’t collide with Earth, Claire lives in fear.

We see how Justine plunges deeper and deeper into mental illness. Initially, she appears fine. As the limousine struggles around tight bends taking Justine and Michael to their reception, she exhibits a light, giggly personality. She has no apparent cares and externalizes only positive feelings. However, as her friends and family put pressure on her throughout the night, Justine reveals her happiness is all a front, and she’s really drowning in her own sadness. As people confront or trouble her, she snaps back or retreats, revealing she is no longer capable of pretending. As her wedding night progresses, Justine goes from a gleeful bride to a miserable woman only able to cry, sleep, and withdraw herself from responsibilities. In the film’s second part, Justine’s state has visibly worsened. She exhibits catatonia, prohibiting her from speaking, moving around, or even bathing. Justine no longer finds pleasure in what once brought her comfort in tough times. Abraham, Justine’s favorite horse, no longer listens to her command, and she beats him mercilessly in frustration. When Claire makes her sister her childhood favorite meal, Justine sobs, claiming it tastes like ashes. She then becomes self-sufficient, but grows cruel and bitter. The viewer is taken along a psychological journey, illustrating the volatility of mental illness.

Von Trier (dir) uses the rogue planet of Melancholia as a physical manifestation for Justine’s mental illness. The name Melancholia clearly draws reference to melancholy, the feeling of depression. The planet is always looming over, constantly coming closer, just like Justine’s inescapable sadness. People generally ignore the danger of Melancholia, recognizing only its scientific interest, thus disregarding its deathly consequences. Fear of the planet is looked down on, and Claire is forced to secretly search the internet to find information. This alludes to the trivialization of mental illness. When Melancholia enters the atmosphere, the air is affected, causing Claire to hyperventilate as though she were having an anxiety attack. The sisters are told the planet will fly by, leaving them unscathed, but they know better. Melancholia turns back around, destroying the entire world. I find using a physical manifestation as a metaphor for illness to be an interesting technique, as also seen in the 2014 horror film The Babadook.

Justine tells her sister that she isn’t bothered by the impending apocalypse, since human life is inherently evil. While Claire is disturbed by these remarks, the film supports her sister’s notions. It seems that every character is overwhelmingly flawed. Their father (Hurt) is selfish and hedonistic, abandoning his distressed daughter at her own wedding to pursue women. Their mother is merciless and rude, interrupting wedding speech to share her lack of faith in Justine and Michael’s future. John is self-interested and inconsiderate, constantly ridiculing and guilting Justine for her illness. Justine’s boss, Jack, is cruel and relentless, putting extreme pressure on Justine to work even at her own wedding. Even Claire and Justine, who undeniably care deeply for one another, often tear each other down. Justine’s proclamation that people are evil, is met with overwhelming support by Von Trier.

I was generally impressed by Melancholia. Von Trier never takes the expected route, and this movie, the second installment of his “Depression Trilogy,” is no exception. The visuals, storyline, and character development all proved strong for me. However, as with any “out there” artist, Von Trier is an acquired taste, and I recognize not everybody will be a fan.

Starring Shameik Moore, Chanel Iman, Zoë Kravitz, Blake Anderson, and A$AP Rocky.

Directed by Rick Famuyiwa

Malcolm (Moore) lives in “The Bottoms,” the slum of Inglewood, CA, with his best friends Jib and Diggy. Malcolm tries to lay low and get good grades, ultimately aspiring to attend Harvard. His status quo is turned over on itself when Malcolm and his friends decide to attend gang member Dom’s (Rocky) birthday party to try and get closer to Nakia (Kravitz), Malcolm’s dream girl. But the party is busted, and Malcolm and his friends are stuck with a backpack full of MDMA. In an unsettling twist, Malcolm’s Harvard interviewer is the drug supplier and refuses to put a good word in until the MDMA is completely sold. Faced with a difficult decision, Malcolm must do what he never expected to achieve his dreams.

Famuyiwa (dir) shows how easily one gets caught up in the cycle of crime and hardship in The Bottoms. Without institutionalized purpose and drive, Inglewood’s shoddiest neighborhood is full of examples of wasted potential. The college counseling department is apathetic and unhelpful, signifying how difficult it is for one to move on to bigger things. As a matter of fact, many of the film’s ensemble demonstrate their intelligence, yet never live up to greater things. One particular conversation between rappers Tyga and A$AP Rocky’s characters about the Obama administration highlight their analytic skills, yet the two only amount to a lives of drugs and organized crime. It is almost impossible escape the gang lifestyle. In the opening sequence, Malcolm illustrates how those who avoid involvement in organized crime are ostracized and harassed. Also, quite ironically, in order to get a positive Harvard recommendation (essentially, his ticket out of the Bottoms), Malcolm must deal drugs himself. In his attempts to avoid a fate of organized crime, he gets more caught up in gang business than he could have imagined  

Dope also makes an effort to comment on racial issues. Racial disparities and tensions are brought up early on when the narrator explains that Malcolm and his friends are disliked for embracing “white shit” including high academic achievement and skateboarding. Instead of resenting his relationship with the rest of the black community, Malcolm accepts it, explaining to Nakia that he’s “just not one of those n---as.” At the same time, Malcolm, Jib, and Diggy are fiercely proud of their race and heritage. When their white friend Will Sherwood (Anderson) insists on using the n-word, they all fight back, illustrating how they haven’t given in to “white culture.” At the film’s closing, Malcolm recites his college admissions essay. He touches on how he is perceived as a geek by his peers and, as a black man from a bad neighborhood, a thug by outsiders, so he never totally fits in. The essays last line, “if I was white, would you even have to ask me that question?” is a meaningful closing to the film’s study of race issues.

Dope is through and through a new take on a classic coming of age story. Perhaps the most important element of them film is Malcolm’s personal development. In all possible ways, he is faced with challenges that force him to grow up fast. On one level, he’s maturing sexually. His attraction to both Lily (Iman) and Nakia present him with new opportunities. Malcolm also grows socially. He not only attends parties for the first time but is faced with popularity and status. He becomes bolder, standing up to more of his past fears to get what he wants. A money launderer has the cash Malcolm needs to appease Jacoby. When he stands in his way, Malcolm hits him, and the launderer exclaims, “Now I know who you are. A man who does not give a fuck." Previously overly-cautious Malcolm has risen to the alpha-male.

I was overall pleased with this movie. Like some other movies I’ve checked out recently (see Tangerine), it represents a new wave of film geared to the modern younger generation. In Dope, this is perhaps best illustrated by a cast full of popular rappers. I liked the fresh take on a coming of age adventure, and would recommend this film to any young person.

Starring Judi Dench and Steve Coogan

Directed by Stephen Freers

In 1951, teenager Philomena Lee (Dench) becomes pregnant and is sent to the Sean Ross Abbey in Roscrea, Ireland by her father. She is forced to give up her son Anthony and work for no pay on behalf of the Catholic Church. Ridiculed journalist Martin Sixsmith (Coogan) digs into Philomena’s story fifty years later as a human interest piece. The two travel to the convent, only to find the Church has been carefully covering its tracks. They travel to America to find Anthony, now known as Michael, only to discover he died eight years ago. Philomena is conflicted, but the two decide to pursue the story further.

Freers (dir) casts religion in an interesting light. Martin proclaims early on that he doesn’t believe in God, citing mistreatments like Philomena’s as his reason. Philomena has every reason to feel them same way. The nuns at the Abbey fail to adhere to Christian principles of love and kinship, treating her like a slave. Religion is also a great source of shame for Philomena. The nuns justify their cruelty with her sin. They feel no remorse putting her down for what she’s done. Even fifty years later, she views her relationship with Anthony’s father as a sin, stating, “anything which feels so lovely must be wrong.” However, Philomena never loses her faith. She hangs a figure of St. Christopher on their rental car’s dashboard. She is always praying and trying to connect with religious figures. Even Martin’s cynicism doesn't get to her. When Philomena asks if they can pull over at a church, he scoffs and adds, “the Catholic Church should go to confession, not you." But she never gives in, putting a figurine of Jesus on her son’s grave in the film’s closing shot, showing solidarity with her tested faith.

Philomena explores the concept of being lost or conflicted in a variety of ways. When Martin questions why Philomena never tried to escape the cruel conditions of the Abbey, she replies “where would I go?”. Teenage Philomena was confused and lost, and therefore susceptible to abuse which she could only later appreciate the severity of. She is equally lost and confused when deciding to pursue information on her son after discovering his death. Martin just stepped away from his entire career path and is forced to rethink himself completely. He’s initially embarrassed for taking on a human interest piece, but as he dives into it, he feels his work is even more meaningful. Anthony, or Michael, was also very conflicted when working for a presidential administration that directly undermined his health and safety.

Martin undergoes a personal transformation through Philomena’s guidance. He initially cares little for the personal element to the story. At the Abbey, he interrupts emotional moments to try and pry out information. However, through Philomena’s constant display of genuine kindness, empathy, curiosity, and wonder, he begins to reimagine the world through her eyes. She relays little adages like “just because he’s in first class doesn’t mean he’s a first class person” that impact his prior understanding of things. She challenges his cynical views on religion, allowing Martin to begin to accept God again. When the concierge let’s him into Philomena’s hotel room, Martin tells him that he’s her son in order to be given the key. This indicates the parental role Philomena takes in Martin’s life. In this way, she really does find her son in her journey.

While I usually don’t like biopics, there was something about effortlessness of Philomena that made it more watchable to me. At the same time, like any Judi Dench movie, I imagine I would enjoy it ten times more if I was over the age of 55. Regardless, I think it is a good watch for any age.

Starring Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly, Ellen Burstyn, and Marlon Wayans

Directed by Darren Aronofsky

Harry Goldfarb (Leto) lives the life of a petty criminal to fund his heroin addiction. Harry, his girlfriend Marion (Connelly), and his friend Tyrone (Wayans) envision lives of success, so they decide to begin dealing. However, when supply becomes limited, the three grow desperate, forcing themselves to dig deeper and deeper into trouble to feed their addiction. Meanwhile, Harry’s mother, Sara (Burstyn), spends her days sitting in front of the tv and vying for popularity amongst the older women in her building. When she receives a phone call from a television casting agency leading her to believe she has a shot of being a TV star, she resorts to extreme dieting methods in an attempt to preserve her perceived youth.

We see how drugs slowly ruins the characters’ lives in a variety of ways. On the surface, we see the physical manifestation of drug abuse. Harry’s arm requires amputation after he contracts a blood infection. Sara’s pills deteriorate her health, made obvious when she audibly grinds her teeth in others’ presence. Then theres the psychological effect of the drugs. Harry and Sara both suffer from traumatic hallucination.  The first time the film shows Tyrone and Harry getting high, we see how the pair fantasize about messing with a condescending police man, but are too incapacitated to do so, highlighting how drugs impair their ability to achieve their goals. Similarly, Harry points out how they won’t succeed as dealers if they’re judgement is impaired after shooting up. Drugs also put strain on relationships. Harry and Sara argue over the effect her diet amphetamines have on her, creating tension in their relationship. Tyrone is haunted by the feeling that he’s let his mother down. Marion and Harry fight incessantly once their supply dries up. All addicts have to make sacrifices. Initially, it’s a small price they pay. Harry gives up his mother’s television set with little remorse. But eventually, the characters stand to lose everything. Whether it’s Harry’s arm, Marion’s dignity, Tyrone’s freedom, or Sara’s shot at beauty and status, everybody ends up sacrificing something important to them.

Like many other films that focus on drug addiction, Requiem for a Dream draws comparisons between heroin and other forms of addiction. From the film’s opening shot of the sensationalist game show Sara watches (quite literally) religiously, it is clear television is her own way to escape reality and feel good about herself- her own drug. The same can be said for her love of food. Just like how any drug addict know they’re better of sober, Sara knows she should be dieting. However, when she tries sticking to just grapefruit and eggs, she goes through withdrawal. In a scene akin to the infamous Trainspotting baby nightmare, Sara is haunted by images of junk food. Aronofsky (dir) makes direct parallels between Sara’s vices and her son’s. The scene of her eating a sandwich is shot in the same manner as the scenes of him shooting up. The short montage of Sara making coffee is almost indistinguishable from her son prepping the needles.

The film also shows the dangers of trying to cheat your way through life. Tyrone and Harry always dreamed of being rich and successful, and the drug trade was supposed to be their short cut to a good life. Sara tries to cheat her way back to beauty and youth by losing weight and dying her hair. She even takes another short cut through that process, opting to take amphetamines instead of diet and exercise.

I was generally impressed by Requiem for a Dream. The cinematography was quick and effective, preventing the viewer from growing bored. I particularly liked when Aonofsky would divide the screen to make the shot more evocative. In this way, Requiem for a Dream is the cinematic equivalent to stream of consciousness literature, making it effective as a psychological film.

Starring Brian O'Halloran, Jeff Anderson, Marilyn Ghigliotti, and Jason Mewes.

Directed by Kevin Smith

Dante Hicks (O'Halloran) is woken by a call from his boss, asking him to come in to work at the convenience store that day. Despite not being supposed to come in that day, Dante agrees, believing his boss’ promise to come in at noon. The film follows Dante’s day at the shop. We see his visits from lovers past and present, unruly customers, a hockey team, a coroner, and his best friend Randal (Anderson). We see his daily woes as well as some extraordinary occurrences. 

It’s evident that Randal and Dante aren’t the best people. This is established early on when Dante steals a stack of newspapers to stock up his store. Randal has no regard for the well-being of his customers, often harassing or ignoring them. He lists pornographic film titles in front of a child and sells cigarettes to a four-year-old. The two friends also appear to have no regard for women. They talk about women in a crude, sexual way behind their backs. When Dante tells Veronica (Ghigliotti) that she “can’t get enough of” him, she reminds him this is a “typical male point of view,” illustrating his disregard for the way she actually thinks of him. Randal jokes that he’ll sleep with whatever woman “puts up the least amount of struggle,” implying consent isn’t a priority. Also, Dante selfishly cheats on his dedicated girlfriend. The two are, on the surface, lazy, self-interested jerks.

At the same time, Smith (dir) illustrates how they’re really not as bad as people think they are. The nicotine gum salesman dramatically compares Dante to the Nazi party, which the viewer can discern as an overreaction, highlighting how people misjudge him. Similarly, the customers grow disgusted by Dante when he is fined for selling cigarettes to a child, which the viewer knows isn’t his fault. We also see that many of the bad things Dante does are things he’s pressured into. He lets Randal push him around and convince him to do stupid things, the old man steal toilet paper and magazines, and his team mates take gatorade after these characters push him around a bit, revealing how his bad actions have good intentions. Randal, who comes off as a careless and apathetic friend, warns Caitlin that he’ll hurt her if she breaks Dante’s heart, showing off his love for his buddy. In reality, the pair aren’t the jerks they appear to be.

The idea of wasted potential comes up throughout the film. Just like in many other films of this type (see my post on Trainspotting), the guys talk very analytically and in depth, revealing their true intelligence. When Veronica comes to visit Dante, his explanation of gender and sexuality highlight his critical thinking capabilities. Randal and Dante’s discussion of the carpenters on the Death Star is admittedly pointless but indicative of their intelligence. Both men successfully articulate themselves with impressive vocabularies. Randal’s comments on the “title dictates behavior” phenomenon illustrate his philosophical critical thinking. While evidently intelligent, neither use their smarts for anything productive. To no avail, Veronica is always encouraging Dante to return to school. In the chapter “Lamentation,” Randal confronts his friend on his restlessness in his position in life, encouraging him to shoot for his actual potential. When Dante rejects Jay and silent Bob’s invitation to a druggie party, he is rejecting the “loser” lifestyle he has set forth for himself, and committing himself to a better future.

Clerks is a cult sleeper hit. Some people love it. Some hate it. Knowing this, I went into this one without expectations. I generally liked it, but took issue with the dialogue and acting. The conversations weren’t believable (though this was kinda the point), and the actors’ performances were straight up disappointing.

Starring Felicity Jones, Mads Mikkelsen, Donnie Yen, Forest Whittaker, Jiang Wen, and Diego Luna

Directed by Gareth Edwards

Jyn Erso (Jones), daughter of reluctant Empire scientist Galen Erso (Mikkelsen), narrowly escapes Imperial kidnapping as a child. After living in hiding for fifteen years with the help of rebel extremist Saw Gerrera (Whittaker), Jyn is taken by the rebellion, viewing her as a necessary step for Gerrera’s help. Accompanied by rebel officer Cassian Andor (Luna) and his loyal droid, she meets up with Gerrera, only to find out that her father has been constructing the ultimate Imperial weapon: the Death Star. In a covert message, Galen explains to his daughter that his allegiance lies with the Rebellion, and he’s built a major fault in his weapon. In order to proceed, Jyn and Cassian recruit a team to capture the Death Star’s plans from an Imperial intelligence base, but they run into difficulties when asking for the Rebellion’s support.

As with every Star Wars installment, the strongest point of Rogue One is the visuals. From the opening scene, shot on the Icelandic countryside, it is clear this this film is going to be stunning. Vivid and contrasting greens, red, whites, and blacks pop out in almost every shot. The color scheme contributes to the film’s narrative. Sterile whites, black, and ominous reds signify the Empire. Cooler, earthier colors are associated with the rebellion. The Rogue One team is especially draped with browns and tans, contributing to their whole “ruffian” vibe. This vagabond aesthetic is also conveyed by scruffy facial hair and greasy, dirty faces that sets the team apart from the rest of the rebellion. My primary concern with the visuals in Rogue One is the heavy use of computer animation. I was pleased with how Force Awakens didn’t overdo CGI, but this film starts to push the limit. Grand Moff Tarkin, portrayed by an entirely computer generated image of the late Peter Cushing, sort of looks like a video game character.

This film does its fair share of fanbaiting (essentially, a lot of it is gearing towards long time Star Wars fans instead of adding to the film’s integrity). But don’t get me wrong, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Spotting little easter eggs, such as the two aliens Luke got into the famous cantina fight with in A New Hope, definitely made the film more enjoyable. While the film continued some Star Wars musts, such as the famous “I got a bad feeling about this” line and a cameo from some iconic droids, Rogue One also made sure to be distinctive. The classic rolling title sequence was missing from this Star Wars installment, which left some fans feeling upset. I also noticed some text with a bio of each planet as a difference between this movie and Star Wars tradition.

This film continues Force Awakens’ nod to strong female characters. Jyn dons no form-fitting or traditionally feminine clothes. She is uniquely strong and fiercely independent. Although Cassian Andor appears to be her love interest, she is not sappy in love and doesn’t let it affect her decision making. While these are all things that myself, along with any other feminist, can probably get behind, it seems that every new Star Wars woman is checking all of the same boxes. Replace a few names and my description of Jyn would fit Rey (or Captain Phasma) from Force Awakens seamlessly. I applaud Rogue One for introducing strong female roles, but I challenge them to diversify a bit. What’s great about characters like Leia is that she proves that a woman doesn’t have to forfeit femininity to be strong; this isn’t coming across with these new women. Daisy Ridley and Felicity Jones even look alike. I challenge Star Wars to pick their next female lead as somebody other than a classically attractive white brunette.

In general, I felt this film is kinda the same as Force Awakens, just not as good. Everything that works in this Rogue One was only better in the Episode VII. While I suppose I am a fan of both new Star Wars installments, I hope the franchise doesn't keep doing the same stuff over and over, as I imagine the fans will soon grow bored of the same formulaic films year after year.

Starrting Ferdia Walsh-Peelo, Lucy Boynton, Jack Reynor, Aidan Gillen, and Maria Doyle

Directed by John Carney

Conor Lawlor (Walsh-Peelo), a fifteen-year-old Dublin schoolboy in 1985, is taken out of his expensive high school by his broke parents and moved to Synge Street Christian Brothers School. Conor struggles to fit in, confronted by rowdy boys, school bullies, and an oppressive principal. In order to impress Raphina (Boynton), an aspiring model who lives near the school, Conor teams up with a group of misfits to form Sing Street, a self-proclaimed futurist rock band. With the help of Brendan (Reynor), Conor’s unemployed older brother, the group creates a series of songs and videos, bringing them closer to Raphina and bolstering their self-confidence.

Music makes light of everything bad in Conor’s life. In the film’s opening scene, he’s playing guitar while his parents loudly argue outside his room. Conor takes the insults they throw at each other and quietly puts them to song, introducing how music gives him control over the negative. Similarly, toward the film’s end, Brendan blasts music to distract his siblings while their parents argue. After coming home from an awful first day at the Christian Brothers School, Conor and Brendan watch Duran Duran videos together, melting away Conor’s suffering. Brendan then asks “What tyranny could stand up to that,” illustrating the strength music instills in them. When Conor first approaches Raphina, music not only gives him the excuse to talk to her, but the courage as well. Playing in Sing Street starts to give the boys the strength of self-expression. Conor comes to school with dyed hair and eye makeup, and he even has the self-confidence to defend himself against his disapproving principal. This image of Conor as a fearless individual starkly contrasts with pre-band Conor, too shy to stand up for himself in any way. He also stands up to the school bully, telling him he’s “just material for my songs.” The artistic process empowers Conor to take control of the people who hurt him. He even spins his relationship with the bully because of the band, recruiting him as a roadie. It would be erroneous to say that people stop hurting Conor because of music, but he no longer lets it get to him him, illustrated when the boos of hecklers at the school dance are drowned out by Sing Street’s playing. Conor’s bold new attitude resulting from his musical exploration also patches up his tense relationship with his brother, solving another major issue. Lastly, the song “Brown Shoes” turn the tables, giving Conor power over his biggest enemy: the school principal.

Masculinity is clearly the norm in Conor’s world. His father (Gillen) jokes that the Latin motto of his new school is “act manly.” We are then transported to the horrifying jungle that is all-boys public school. Boys smoking, fighting, and staring each other down signify Conor’s teleportation into a dog-eat-dog, or, rather, man-eat-man world; only the tough survive. But where does Conor, a boy on the sensitive side, fit in? He doesn’t. From the get go, his classmates ridicule him with homophobic slurs. Through the formation of Sing Street, Conor creates his own social sphere, one in which he is free to express his feminine side. By coming to school with makeup and dyed hair, he is openly refusing the masculine hierarchy of Christian Brothers and accepting his own artistic expression as his identity, illustrating the self-confidence his music has given him.

Sing Street has been so far met with overwhelmingly positive critical response. It’s even been nominated for Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy in this year’s Golden Globes Awards. I agree that this film is all around good. The lighthearted humor and eighties nostalgia can never go wrong. However, this film is one cliche stacked on top of another. According to many reviews, the creativity of the film’s catchy songs make up for this, but I disagree. While this is a nice, light watch anybody can enjoy, Sing Street is too corny for me to consider it great filmmaking.

Starring Catherine Deneuve, Yvonne Furneaux, and John Fraser

Directed by Roman Polanski

Carol Ledoux (Deneuve) is a Belgian immigrant working as a manicurist in London. She is the paragon of wholesome beauty, attracting male attention everywhere she goes. However, Carol seems terrified of every suitor, especially the particularly persistent Colin (Fraser). Carol appears to be on the edge of some psychotic breakdown, and after her sister Helen (Furneaux) leaves for a trip with her boyfriend, she isolates herself further. At one point, Colin shows up at the apartment to make amends with Carol. His visit provokes her psychosis, and she bludgeons him to death. Carol’s mental state deteriorates, creating a disturbing scene for Helen to come home to.

From the beginning, beauty is established as an important theme. In the film’s opening scene, Carol is attending to an older client in the salon. In an attempt to preserve her youthful glow, the client gets a facial. From this first shot on, beauty is proved as both valued and coveted. After all, Carol is a manicurist and is therefore in the business of beauty. Her unmistakable physical beauty masks her unattractive and awkward personality. Interestingly, despite Carol’s dislike for male attention, she does want to be beautiful. She is often looking at and adjusting herself in the mirror. She winces after catching a glimpse of her distorted reflection in a kitchen appliance. Carol also carefully applies makeup before drifting into a catatonic state, illustrating her desire to be attractive. Carol’s cosmetic efforts are difficult to reconcile with her fear of male attention. I believe this confusion is exactly what Polanski (dir) is trying to convey, as it mimics the conflict within Carol’s mind. She wishes to be a functioning, healthy woman, but she is unable to overcome her psychosis, perhaps illustrated best when she willing kisses Colin, only to run away retching.

Repulsion doesn’t portray a single male character in a positive light. Men are depicted as controlling. When Colin finds Carol eating alone in a diner, he rejects what she’s eating and tries to bring her to a restaurant despite her objection. Although Carol is content with her meal, Colin can’t fight his paternalist urge to give her what he perceives as best. Similarly, when Helen puts time into preparing dinner for her household, her boyfriend, Michael, completely overlooks her efforts and insist the two go out to eat. Another vehicle for control is through physical contact, which Carol draws attention to with her strong, negative reactions. The way Michael leaves his toiletries in Carol’s cup is metaphoric for the way he’s seeping into and controlling her life. Men also say things to Carol such as “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and “Are you just playing hard to get?” that are dismissive and degrading. Men also take as misogynistic tone when talking about women behind their backs. Colin and his friends discuss virginity and female homosexuality in a way I found particularly demeaning. Aside from her hallucinations, the most obvious instance in which a man attempts to control a woman is when the landlord attempts to rape Carol. There are no redeeming qualities for any male characters, and each one is progressively more misogynistic.

Carol is terrified of and disgusted by sex. Initially, the audience is just lead to believe that male gaze is what troubles Carol. However, we soon learn that her anxieties are rooted in sexuality. When Michael and Helen are having audible sex in the room next door, Carol buries her head in her pillow to block out her sister’s cries. She reacts almost violently to seeing Michael half-naked the next morning and vomits after smelling his shirt in the laundry hamper. After kissing Colin, she runs away so quickly she nearly gets hit by a car. As rabbits are often symbols of sexuality and fertility, the rotting rabbit Carol leaves out throughout the film refers to how her sexuality has gone bad. It is insinuated that Carol may be the victim of prior sexual trauma, most notably hinted at by her rape hallucinations. The photo Polanski zooms in on at the film’s closing of Carol as a child staring angrily at an adult male family member implies that she was abused at the hands of her uncle or father, accounting for her extreme aversion to sexual behavior.

Polanski masterfully illustrates Carol’s deteriorating mental state. At first, the only sign of mental illness is Carol’s apparent narcolepsy, carrying out her daily routine in a sleep-like trance. We begin to see her indulge in behavior indicative of anxiety such as nail biting. The inclusion of occasional sudden, high-pitched string music in the score heightens her impending insanity. Her first hallucination is a man she sees briefly in the mirror. As our reflection is our image of ourselves, this hallucination reveals Carol views herself as a kind of sexual victim. Her hallucinations become more vivid and frequent: cracks on the ceiling, hands in the wall, and finally, rapists intruding her apartment. This is when her desire to inflict harm kicks in. Carol subconsciously cuts a customer with nail clippers. She becomes fascinated with Michael’s razor, which she’ll later use to kill the landlord. Finally, when nobody’s looking, she kills her first victim. Polanski’s focus on the psychological build up to this moment is very well done.

I was very impressed by this movie. I watched it back to back with Hitchcock’s Psycho (as I recommend you should, as well) and was taken aback by how Polanski took hitchcockian innovations to the next level. Colin’s POV murder sequence is particularly visually interesting. I would recommend Repulsion to any fan of old movies, horror flicks, or feminism.

Starring Mya Taylor, Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, and Karren Karagulian

Directed by Sean S Baker

Sin-Dee Rella (Rodriguez), a transgender prostitute, is released from prison on Christmas Eve after 28 days. Her best friend Alexandra (Taylor), another transgender sex worker, accidentally reveals that Sin-Dee’s pimp and boyfriend Chester cheated on her while she was away. Angered, Sin-Dee searches her neighborhood in Los Angeles for Dinah, Chester’s rumored mistress. Meanwhile, Razmik (Karagulian), an Armenian taxi driver and frequent customer of transgender prostitutes, purchases services from Alexandra. She tells him about a singing performance she has coming up, and that Sin-Dee will be there. Excited to see Sin-Dee, he leaves his family at dinner to go to the performance, ultimately getting caught up in drama.

This film does an excellent job of exploring racial and sexual discrimination and disparities. Sin-Dee and Alexandra are discriminated against for being both black and transgender. When the police arrive to break up Alexandra’s argument with a customer, they address her as “Alexander.” Dinah calls Sin-Dee racial slurs when their fight breaks out. A group of men dump urine on Sin-Dee, exclaiming, “Tranny!” Sin-Dee also stresses that Chester cheats on her with white, cisgendered Dinah, calling her “real fish”. She feels particularly invalid because Dinah’s elevated social position. The friends face discrimination as sex workers, as well, highlighted by a “we don’t serve prostitutes” sign in the neighborhood. People also discriminate against the clients of transgendered sex workers. When Razmik turns down a cisgendered woman, she angrily calls him a “homo.” When Dinah finds out about Chester’s engagement to Sin-Dee, she mocks him with homophobic slurs. Transgender women are so marginalized that even those attracted to them are considered less than. I actually found the most interesting element of the film’s portrayal of oppression and discrimination to be how it brings people together. Sin-Dee and Dinah, two women who have every reason to hate one another, begin to bond over similar discrimination towards sex workers. One of Razmik’s customers, an indigenous American, expresses solidarity with Razmik, relating the struggles of Native Americans to that of immigrants. Razmik’s mother-in-law gets into the cab of complete stranger, but he treats her like family because of their shared Armenian heritage. In the film’s closing scene, Alexandra takes off her wig and gives it to Sin-Dee, demonstrating love and understanding due to their shared struggle. Baker (dir) illustrates how people flock to those who suffer similarly.

After recalling a childhood memory about a broken toy, Alexandra proclaims that “the world can be a cruel place.” Sin-Dee immediately agrees, explaining that if things were fair, she wouldn’t have been born with a penis. Baker continues to demonstrate the cruelty of the world throughout the film. After Alexandra is cheated out of money by a customer, she exclaims that this has already happened several that month, so she is “tired of being so fucking nice to people.” The universe if unfair, treating her poorly when she only offers kindness. When confronting Chester, we learn Sin-Dee was arrested for and ultimately imprisoned for a crime Chester should have gone down for. She has to pay the price for others’ mistakes. In the film’s closing, Dinah heads back to the brothel Sin-Dee took her from. She is turned away, rendering her (to the viewer’s knowledge) homeless.

Tangerine is a truly modern movie. Following the lead of hits like Orange is the New Black, the actors are not classically attractive and accurately represent the characters the play (Karagulian is actually Armenian, Taylor is actually trangender, etc). The in depth, dynamic exploration of gender and racial issues is characteristic of modern social thought. The boppy soundtrack and uncouth dialogue convey accurately contemporary, urban inelegance. Tangerine was also shot completely on an iPhone 5s, speaking to modern accessibility and universality of high-grade technology.

This films connection with the iPhone is more interesting than additive. I can only image how much stronger the visuals would have been with real movie cameras. The acting is generally impressive, but I believe Rodriguez’s performance falls short. These issues aside, I’m a fan of Tangerine. I suspect it will be particularly well received amongst younger (adult) audiences.

Starring Chloë Sevigny, Leo Fitzpatrick, and Rosario Dawson

Directed by Larry Clark

Kids follows a group of teenagers in New York City over the course of one day. Telly (Fitzpatrick) and Casper are typical street kids, constantly drinking and sleeping around. Telly has a particular fixation with deflowering virgins, opening the film with an encounter between him and a twelve-year-old. Jennie (Sevigny), one of Telly’s victims, accompanies her friend Ruby (Dawson) on an STD test. Although Jennie only goes to support her friend, she is shockingly diagnosed with HIV. Jennie seeks out Telly, the only boy she’s ever slept with, knowing that he’s likely to spread the virus. However, Telly is too busy drinking, smoking, and chasing after thirteen-year-old Darcy to even notice Jennie.

The irony of the title Kids is that this film is a disturbing perversion of childhood. One way this is communicated is through the frequent mention of teen pregnancy, the ultimate corruption of youth. The twelve-year-old girl Telly deflowers in the opening scene is afraid of having a child. As the boys head inside, we see toddler outside of Paul’s house carrying a babydoll as though it were real, an allusion to teen motherhood. Darcy also tells Telly she’s not allowed to date because her older sister had a baby at age fifteen. Clark (dir) also puts a perverted twist on icons of youth. Casper huff nitrous oxide from balloons, a quintessential element to any childhood. When the group all goes swimming, the image is a bit less wholesome than that of children spending their summer together by the pool. They go skinny dipping, turning a childlike past time into a medium for sexual debauchery. Casper also grows aroused at the sight of Telly’s mom breastfeeding, a natural start to any childhood. Even the name Casper takes a classic, pure image of childhood and adulterates it. The involvement of prepubescent boys in the gang’s exploits also illustrates the perversion of innocence. At Paul’s house, a young boy joins in on the drug usage. At the party, a group of younger kids smoke a joint they took from an older sibling. Disturbingly, following the older brother’s example means going down a path of deviance, highlighting the cyclical nature of corrupted youth.

I see Telly and Jennie as foils. Telly is selfish, caring little for his family. He begs his mother for money, and after he is denied, he steals from her bedroom. Jennie, on the other hand, cries at thought of no longer being able to help her little brother get ready for school after the disease gets the best of her. Telly has no respect for the women he sleeps with, viewing them only as sexual objects. Not only is this visible in the way Telly describes his experiences to Casper, but also masterfully illustrated when Clark overpowers Telly’s sexual partner’s screams of pain with background music, demonstrating how Telly is ignoring them. Whereas Telly is pressuring young girls into sex, Jennie is sexually oblivious. While she has had sex with one person before, she seems completely out of her element when Ruby and her other friends are describing various experiences. Also, the shot of Telly spitting on a man in the park whom he may have just killed cuts directly to a shot of Jennie sitting peacefully in a cab, highlighting the differences in their temperaments. This stark contrast between the two draws attention to Jennie’s sweetness and innocence, exaggerating how unfair it is that she contracted HIV.

On the way to find Telly, a cab driver tells Jennie that “if you want to be happy, don’t think.” While Jennie dismisses the driver, his statement proves true throughout the film. Telly and his friends are living proof of “ignorance is bliss.” They drink and get high to distance themselves from their harrowing reality. Telly also finds his life’s joy in his sexual escapades, completely unaware of how they’re killing him (and how he’s killing others). He shares in his final soliloquy that sexual intercourse gives his life a sense of purpose. If Telly finds out he’s HIV positive, his world will come crashing down. Jennie, on the other hand, is troubled by how grounded in reality she is. Her diagnosis moves her immediately to tears as she accepts the painful road ahead. As she seeks out Telly and eventually realizes he will offer no consolation, Jennie breaks down once again. Jennie is the most emotionally distraught character because she doesn’t distance herself from or ignore her problems. Casper interestingly seems to crossover on this matter at the end of the film. Initially, his self-awareness is on par with his friends', indulging in even more drugs than Telly. However in the last line of the film he asks himself after raping Jennie, unknowingly exposing himself to HIV, “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Now conscious of the implications of his actions, Casper is no longer the same carefree kid.

This film was met with a lot of criticism. Some even likened it to child pornography in its depiction of teenage debauchery. While I respect this film and its artistic integrity, I see where these critics are coming from and advise discretion. This is not a film for everybody; some may find its disturbing elements overpower its art and message.

Starring Harvey Keitel, Steve Buscemi, Tim Roth, and Quentin Tarantino

Directed by Quentin Tarantino

Six strangers have been carefully picked by crime boss Joe Cabot and his son, Eddie, to rob a jewelry store. On the day of the burglary, everything goes wrong. As the cops are quick on the scene, Mr. White (Keitel) and Mr. Pink (Buscemi) suspect one of the burglars are working for the police. On top of that, Mr. Blonde is a loose cannon who presents a danger to the surviving men. Through a series of flashbacks and anecdotes, we learn who the rat is and understand the burglars and their intentions 

I think crime’s dehumanizing effect is illustrated throughout the film. The burglars don’t call each other by their real names and are forbidden from inquiring about each other’s backgrounds. They are discouraged from going to the hospital, as it puts everybody at risk, and lives are lost due to this commitment to self-interest. We also understand that the men view cops as somehow sub-human. When characters show empathy, they are worse at their jobs because of it. Mr. White puts himself on the line when he shares his name and background with the dying, pitiful Mr. Orange (Roth). His human emotions trump his criminal logic. White puts himself on the line, defending Orange solely on the grounds of their supposed personal relationship, only to be proved wrong in the end and killed. Mr. Pink also says, “Every time I ever got burned buying weed, I always knew the guy wasn't right... but I wanted to believe him.” If he doesn’t step back from his humanity and view each situation pragmatically, he suffers. Interestingly, Mr. Pink is the film’s primary example of this logical dehumanization. This characteristic is introduced to the viewer when he explains his reasoning for why he doesn’t tip waitresses. While it’s unfair and inhumane, Pink has a practical explanation. He is also the most upset when Mr. White shares his identity to Mr. Orange. As a pragmatist, Pink understands the dangers of getting personal. Mr. Blonde, on the other hand, is cruel and dehumanizing just for the sake of it. The rationale that arguably justifies Pink’s actions can’t be said about Blonde. He kidnaps and tortures a cop without any added benefit to the heist. His inhumanity is inexplicable and twisted, yet Eddie and Joe Cabot view Blonde as distinctly honorable.

Interestingly, this dehumanizing quality also makes one a better police officer. Even though two of their men are slowly dying inside the warehouse, cops keep their distance from the building until Joe Cabot arrives, enraging the kidnapped cop. Orange also lets his humanity hurt his job performance. He kills Mr. Blonde to protect another cop, revealing his identity as the rat to the Cabots. He also feels a personal obligation to White, admitting the truth to him, potentially resulting in both of their deaths. In Orange’s flashback, he reveals his sympathies for and friendships with the criminals he’s infiltrating to his superior. The superior officer is angered, explaining, “Long Beach Mike is not your amigo.” He implies that Orange’s friendships and empathy make it difficult for him to be a good cop. Tarantino (dir) is illustrating that the irony in how the intentions and skills of the cops and the robbers are identical.

This movie, along with the rest of Tarantino’s filmography, has a distinct “macho man” energy. In the opening scene, the men sit around a diner table and openly discuss sexuality in the context of Madonna lyrics. Ironically, they’re discussing something arguably feminine, but they do so with a unique machismo that leads to them all butting heads. Similarly, Mr. Blonde’s flashback includes a strange argument with Eddie. The two bicker about who would be the other’s bitch had they both been gay. While this subject matter is not at all manly, their masculinity leads them down a power struggle of one-upping each other. Throughout the film, this argumentative manner is continued, resulting from a clash of strong male egos. When White voices legitimate complaints about Blonde’s erraticism, he is dismissed when Blonde states, “Are you gonna bark all day, little doggie, or are you gonna bite?” This demonstrates that the power structure of the group rests on masculinity rather than value, perhaps explaining their downfall.

I’m generally a Tarantino fan, so I had high hopes for this movie. I have to say, I was a bit let down. To me, Reservoir Dogs just doesn’t hold up to the rest of Tarantino’s filmography. That’s not to say this isn’t a good movie; the masterful cinematography and witty dialogue will keep the viewer interested. This just isn’t his best work. The machismo that is usually just a piece of the puzzle in other Tarantino films dominates this movie, something I honestly found a little boring. 

Starring Elle Fanning and Stephen Dorff

Directed by Sofia Coppola 

Johnny Marco (Dorff) is a hollywood bad-boy. Though he’s an actor by trade, Johnny spends most of his time drinking, driving recklessly, and having casual sex. His lifestyle comes into questions, however, when his daughter Cleo (Fanning) comes to stay with him after her mother disappears. Johnny must keep Cleo with him through his daily exploits until she is to be sent off to camp. He is forced to rethink his concept of love, success, and self.

Johnny Marco seems completely apathetic to his own life. He’s numb, willing to do anything for a thrill. This is established by the film’s opening shot in which he’s driving his Ferrari around a track. While the speed of his drive is exciting, the tedium of the shot’s length and repetition is overwhelming. Johnny frequently indulges in drugs and alcohol, even when alone. His hotel room is littered with empty liquor and pill bottles. However, these vices never seem to bring Johnny any pleasure. When stripper come to perform for him, he falls asleep momentarily. This isn’t even the only promiscuous exploit that brings Johnny to a slumber. He’s spoiled and completely numb to all pleasure. Throughout the film, we witness several women throwing themselves at him. They expose themselves to him, invite him along, or indulge him in sexual favors. Johnny’s assistant and manager also micromanage his time, best illustrated on the press day for his new movie, alleviating Johnny of any sense of responsibility. He’s also very apathetic towards the film industry. When a fan who aspires to become an actor comes up to Johnny at a party to ask for advice, he is totally indifferent. Johnny has no passion for his own trade. The disconnect between himself and the entertainment business is best illustrated during the Italian award show; Johnny literally cannot understand anything about it other than the fact that he’s being highly praised. At the press conference, film experts ask Johnny questions well past his interest and intellect, making him visibly uncomfortable. He also reveals to Cleo that he hasn’t read any of the scripts sent to him. Johnny is completely numb to and dissatisfied with everything in his personal and professional life.

We also see Johnny’s self-loathing. Although Johnny supposedly lives the life of a glamorous movie star, he spends most of his life alone. His constant isolation is epitomized when he’s having a mold taken of his head. The long, drawn out shot of Johnny sitting alone with his senses muffled by the plaster covering his face symbolizes how lonely and deprived he is. He would even prefer the negative attention from the paparazzi to his painstaking isolation, demonstrated when he speculates that random cars are those of photographers. Also, Johnny’s masculine ineptitude is highlighted when he has to stand on a stool to take pictures with his female costar. Additionally, he resents his lack of accountability for himself, illustrated by a documentary on self reliance Johnny stays up watching. Throughout the film, an unknown number is texting Johnny hurtful and discouraging comments. I believe this is his subconscious, illuminating his deep insecurities. The climax of the film is when Johnny finally becomes in touch with his self-loathing, proclaiming, “I’m fucking nothing. I’m not even a person.”

When Cleo comes to stay with her father, his life begins to change. In the lobby of the hotel after their return from Milan, a man in the lobby sings a song about love and companionship. Listening intently, Johnny and his daughter hold each other in a moment of solidarity and contentment that he so desperately needs. Aside from Johnny being more excitable when she’s around, we really see the impact Cleo’s had on her father once she leaves for camp. He has the chance to sleep with various women exposing themselves on his way up to his hotel room, but he ignores them and heads inside. Instead of calling for room service, Johnny makes himself dinner that night, demonstrating how he’s more responsible for himself. He’s more in touch with his emotions, calling Cleo’s mom and crying over his shortcomings. At the very end of the film, Johnny pulls his Ferrari over on the side of the highway and walks away smiling, symbolizing how he’s now rejecting the fast life. Clearly, Cleo was the awakening Johnny needed.

But while we witness Johnny’s development, he’s still a bad father. At the beginning of the film, his shortcomings as a parent are clear. He doesn’t know Cleo figure skates, but she’s been doing it for several years. Johnny also encourages other women to sign his cast that just Cleo had signed, ruining their special moment. He even asks on a Sunday why she isn’t in school. As they spend more time together, his love for and attention towards Cleo evidently grows, but he still fails as a father. Johnny brings a woman into their hotel room in Milan while Cleo is sleeping. He takes his eleven-year-old daughter to a Vegas casino. Also, the only time he apologizes to her for being absent her whole life is when a helicopter is muffling his voice, and she can’t hear. Clearly, he still has a long way to go.

In general, I like this movie. I think Coppola (dir) brings an interesting perspective to an overdone “shallow success” trope. As the daughter of a world famous filmmaker, Coppola’s childhood wasn’t too different than Cleo’s. Instead of showing the glamor of the film world, Coppola shows us little moments that only she could think of. If you are not a fan of Coppola’s style, you won’t like this film. The drawn-out (but beautiful) shots used to convey the tedium of Johnny’s life will be too boring for some viewers. I would even argue that this film went on 10 minutes too long. Nonetheless, Somewhere is an overall great watch.

Starring Kirsten Dunst, Jason Schwartzman, Jamie Dornan, and Rose Byrne

Directed by Sofia Coppola

This film follows the life of Marie Antoinette (Dunst), the Queen of France leading up to the French Revolution. Born and raised in the Austrian Empire, Antoinette is married off to Louis Auguste (Schwartzman), Dauphin of France. A confused foreigner, she is completely unaccustomed to the strange, ritualistic culture of Versailles. Eventually, Antoinette and her husband ascend to the thrown, but she is far from the wholesome image of royalty. Colorful characters like the Duchess of Polignac (Byrne) and Count Axel von Fersen (Dornan) pull Antoinette into a life of apparent decadence and debauchery. However, with the impending French Revolution, Antoinette must grow up fast.

Coppola (dir) made this film less in the style of a traditional biopic and more like a teen dramedy. There are a few historical discrepancies that make this film more like a modern coming of age story (and more like the rest of Coppola’s filmography). The soundtrack is almost entirely classic rock and alternative pop. The opening scene is a classic teen movie trope; Antoinette is begrudgingly woken up, fully decked out with bedhead. The shot in which she and her friends are giggling excitedly at Louis’ likeness before meeting him in person is straight out of any high school flick. Antoinette even asks her carriage driver, “Are we there yet?” At Versailles, the nature of her petty rivalries with other women at court is comparable to that of Cady Heron and Regina George in Mean Girls. Her authority figures are always butting in, telling her she’s hanging out with the wrong crowd, a common teen film trope. The several scenes of her trying on clothes, gossiping, and sneaking out with her gal pals could be found in any high school coming of age movie. There’s even a shot of Antoinette trying on shoes in which a pair of blue converse can be seen in the background, an obvious allusion to the contemporary teen. Coppola is putting a historical narrative about a French queen’s strife around 150 years ago in terms of a modern, high school struggle for popularity. She makes the story relatable, so the viewer can better understand the historical sequence of events.

Coppola not only makes the situation relatable, but she is very successful in humanizing the queen herself. Marie Antoinette is traditionally seen as a cold and cruel historical figure. The famous “let them eat cake” line attributed to her plants the queen as the last straw of the French Revolution. However, Coppola transforms Antoinette into just another immature teenager, somebody we can all identify with. Scenes of her playing with her puppy or drawing with condensation on a window show a playful side the viewer relates to. The film also succeeds in separating her from the France’s financial problems. It is clear that Versailles was already absurdly opulent when she gets there. The gratuitous decadency of French court even shocks Antoinette when she first arrives. She opts to wear a plain white dress instead of the rococo fashions at her humbler chateau. The film depicts France’s assistance in the American Revolution as the catalyst of financial crisis. Antoinette, on the other hand, reads enlightenment literature by Rousseau and tells the court jeweler to stop sending diamonds when she hears about the common man’s struggle. The film shows how Antoinette is singled out by the people as the cause of their poverty, but dismisses these claims as erroneous. Coppola directly counters the idea that Marie Antoinette singlehandedly and carelessly drove France to bankruptcy.

Marie Antoinette does a great job of illustrating the pressure she was under. When Antoinette’s mother tells her she will be marrying the dauphin, she warns her daughter that “all eyes will be on you.” Her mother’s premonition proves true. When Antoinette first meets Louis, his large retinue is present, staring and whispering. As she first ascends the steps of Versailles, she must walk through a herd of her new subjects, scrutinizing their new dauphine. The film is packed with scenes like these in which the audio is overridden by the rude whispers from Antoinette’s spectators, visibly bothering the new queen. She is also taken from her home and placed in an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar customs. When Antoinette first arrives on French soil, she is immediately branded an outsider after hugging a countess out of turn. She is then told that she “must bid farewell to [her] party and leave all of Austria behind;” they even take her puppy away. After being stripped of anything farmiliar, Antoinette is mocked rather than embraced. Two women whisper “I hope you like apple strudel,” mocking Antoinette’s nationality. After her family conflicts with French interests, she asks herself, “Am I to be Austrian or the dauphine of France?” Antoinette must consider how much of herself she is willing to leave behind. She is also under great pressure to have an heir.  She is told, “You represent the future... everything is on the wife.” It is constantly made clear to Antoinette that her position is still unsure if she doesn’t have a child with Louis. She is made to believe Louis’ sexual incompetence is her own fault, even though it is clear to the viewer that this isn’t the case. We are able sympathize with the great stress Antoinette is under.

More so than any of the film I have written on so far, Marie Antoinette was met with mixed reviews. Many critics took issue to the light frivolity of the film that came with Coppola’s “teen movie” approach as well as the historical inaccuracies that resulted. I, however, am appreciative of Coppola’s success in making a hated historical figure understandably human. This, along with the stunning visuals, is why I love this movie so much.

Starring Matthew McConaughey, Ben Affleck, and Jason London

Directed by Richard Linklater

It’s the last day of school at Lee High School in 1976, and next year’s seniors are already taking over. Randall “Pink” Floyd (London), the star quarterback, has started hanging out with the wrong crowd. Fred O’Bannion (Affleck) has flunked his senior year and has turned his focus to hazing next years’ freshmen. David Wooderson (McConaughey) is an alumnus of Lee High School but hangs around with the current teenagers. Tony Olson and Mike Newhouse are unfamiliar with the social customs of their classmates but decide to give the end-of-year party a chance. All of the characters’ storylines converge at an impromptu kegger, celebrating the year’s end.

This movie explains the nature of being a teenager. One of the main ways this is illustrated is through the characters’ relationship with authority. Adults are seen as nagging and aren’t taken seriously. The first adult we see is a sleeping teacher in a classroom full of rowdy children. Clearly, adults aren’t commanding too much respect. The other main adult authority figure is the football coach. He notices Pink hanging the “bad kids,” and asks him to sign a pledge that he won’t partake in dangerous behavior. Pink absolutely resents coach’s “old age suppressing youth.” The film ends with a confrontation between the two in which Pink decides once and for all not to sign the pledge and give into authority. Another example of teens disrespecting adults is when the man whose mailbox Pink and freshman Mitch destroy tries to confront the boys. They drive away, completely ignoring his command. Linklater (dir) makes it clear that adults aren’t who they accept as their authority figures. For the freshman, the seniors are who they’re looking up to. Mitch Kramer idolizes Pink and his friends. While initially reluctant to assist with the shoplifting or participate in mailbox baseball, the big kids coerce him into it. They tell Mitch exactly how to talk to girls. His following of their example is epitomize when he verbatim copies one of Wooderson’s spiels at a liquor store. Sabrina and the other freshman girls also willingly subject themselves to hazing rituals. Similar to the freshman-senior power balance, the seniors look up to college kids and recent graduates like Wooderson. The film perfectly demonstrates how teenagers invent their own authority.

The film also illuminates the tribalism of high school. The establishing shots of the school show different cliques: jocks, nerds, and stoners, each with their own special rituals. Pink starts to transcend these lines, which makes the other football players uneasy. While they, too, initially doubted coach’s pledge, they all come around and encourage Pink to ditch his new friends and commit to the team. With lines like “how many times have you gotten laid strictly because you’re a football player?”, it is clear that being part of this group brings elevated status on its own. The hazing of the freshmen also highlights the tribalism of the high school. The senior class is brought together by this classic “us versus them” dichotomy. For O’Bannion, this is all he’s got. As a flunking member of last year’s senior class, hazing the freshmen is the only common ground he has with the other guys, so he’s particularly cruel. When the freshman get back at him, he loses the one thing he has going for him and becomes a definitive outsider.

The theme that interested me most in Dazed and Confused was a display of hyper-masculinity. The concept was first drawn to my attention when a group of girls were discussion how Gilligan’s Island reflects a male fantasy. I think the same can be said of this movie. One of the jocks jokes about dropping football to become a writer. The idea of taking on such a feminine hobby is laughable to these men. The guys are constantly showing off their manliness. Whether it’s talking about cars or calling their female classmates sluts or prudes, every conversation between male characters seems to be a display of machismo. Tony and Mike seem to be the only exception to this until Mike insists on fighting a man who insulted him. The older boys even ask 14-year-old Mitch if he’s “gonna be fucking that later, or are you going to be a little wimp.” The portrayal of women follows this trend. The hazing for the girls involves proposing to senior boys, promising to “do whatever you want,” indulging in their desires. Wooderson also famously says, “That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the same age.” I believe this male chauvinism is intentional, establishing this story as another masculine fantasy.

I liked this movie more than I expected. I appreciate Linklater’s ability to tell an developed, dynamic story and uphold his artistic integrity, all the while creating something really fun. That’s why this movie is captures the essence of being a teenager so well; it doesn’t take itself too seriously. I recommend this movie to all, especially current teenagers and adults trying to relive the glory days!

Starring Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo

Directed by Michel Gondry

After a fight with her boyfriend Joel Barish (Carrey), Clementine Krucynski pays Lacuna, inc to erase him from her memories. After finding out about this, Joel decides to undergo the same procedure to lighten the weight of their breakup. However, as we travel through Joel’s brain and recount his happiest memories with Clem, Joel changes his mind and tries to find ways to never forget her. Meanwhile, the employees at Lacuna are dealing with drama of their own. Mary (Dunst), the receptionist, finds out that she was once in a scandalous relationship and underwent the procedure. Patrick, one of the technicians, stole details from Joel’s journals and tries to seduce Clem himself.

Joel and Clementine are complementary characters. He lives a tiresome and boring life. He’s alone on valentines day and resents himself for it. Joel’s very cautious, so he needs somebody to push him out of his comfort zone. Clem is, quite literally, the added color to his life. In the opening sequence, Joel draws a picture of Clementine in bright colors while the rest of the world is black and white. She makes him do things he wouldn’t have the guts to do alone such as playing on the frozen river or checking out the abandoned house. While they are set up as the perfect fit for each other, it is also implied that this is all superficial. Clementine says from the get go that she doesn’t want to be the girl to complete him because she’s “just a fucked up girl who’s looking for [her] own peace of mind.” Joel’s fantasy that Clementine’s supposed to be the one to show him the world is an unfair burden on her when she has needs of her own. Clementine is an insecure mess. She pours liquor in her coffee, drives drunk, changes her hair color frequently (reflecting her weak sense of identity), and is convinced that she’s ugly. Clementine is high maintenance, and Joel isn’t vocal enough to give her the validation she needs. Perhaps this upfront projection of Clementine as the “perfect girl” is a way of demonstrating how wrapped up in Joel’s brain we really are.

The characters who underwent the procedure have illogical compulsions driven by their erased memories. For instance, Joel feels a strong and sudden urge to travel to the beaches of Montauk, where he first met Clem, in the middle of February. Clementine also grows hysterical at her strange, urgent desire to see the frozen Charles River, a place of sentimental significance for herself and Joel. So, while one could argue that Clementine and Joel (as well as Mary and Mierzwiak) are brought back together because their personalities naturally attract, I believe Gondry (dir) is making a larger statement supported by these irrational drives; the characters reunite because of destiny. It is universal intervention, not complementary dispositions, that triumph the superficial memory wipe and pull Joel and Clem together.

The film makes an interesting statement about the nature of memories. The employees of Lacuna, inc are very invasive. Aside from literally ripping some of Joel’s happiest memories from him, they’re going through his kitchen, drinking his booze, having sex in his apartment, and, in Patrick’s case, stealing his life. These little moments speak to how irredeemably intrusive the procedure is. The character all appear to, at least initially, believe ignorance is bliss. Mary shares quotes like “blessed are the forgetful, for they get the better even of their blunders” and “how happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!” People think it’s better to forget unpleasant memories, satirized by the memory erasing industry. While Joel initially agrees with this viewpoint, he soon learns that while ignorance may be more comfortable, his memories, good and bad, make up who he is. Without them, he is even more boring and pathetic than before. Mary has a similar epiphany, which is why she sends out all of the former patients’ files.

I had heard so many great things about this movie before finally sitting down and watching it. It was recommended to me by a friend whose opinions on film I hold in very high esteem, so I had high hopes. While Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind wasn’t the spectacular, psychological love story I was expecting (it was a little cheesy), I wasn’t let down. Gondry does an excellent job of demonstrating Joel’s cerebral confusion during his procedure. Since the film is generally pretty light but deep, I would recommend it to just about anybody.

Starring Michael Fassbender, Katie Jarvis, and Kierston Wareing

Directed by Andrea Arnold

Fifteen-year-old Mia Williams (Jarvis) lives a crummy life in London public housing. She’s lost all her friends and has been kicked out of school. Mia’s only escape from her abusive mother (Wareing) and the handful of social workers is through dance. Her life is changed when her mother’s new boyfriend, Conor (Fassbender), comes to live with the family while he sorts out family issues. Mia begins to fall for Conor as he encourages her to pursue dance and becomes a supportive friend. However, when Conor makes a sexual advance at Mia, the nature of their relationship changes, and Conor’s truth is inevitably revealed.

Mia’s low income, urban environment traps and tortures her. Any attempt she makes at freedom ends in injury. When she tries to release a horse chained to the ground, she gets assaulted and robbed by the horse’s owners. When Mia ventures into the river to catch a fish with Conor, the only audio is of her mother and sister shouting insults at her, and she cuts her foot. When Conor explains that if he could be any animal, he’d choose to free like an eagle, Mia and her family retort that this is stupid, since he would likely get shot. Unlike Conor, who comes from a middle class suburb, the girls understand that the vulnerability of liberty will only hurt them. Because of this, Mia is afraid of making herself emotionally vulnerably, especially to Conor. The slum they live in also corrupts innocence. Mia’s sister, Tyler, is a prime example of this. She’s only a young child, but throughout the film we see her curse, smoke, and dress scantily; her mother even hints that she will soon be kicked out of school. However, when characters like Conor actually treat her like the child see is, she acts accordingly, so her loss of innocence is purely external. Various establishing shots of the housing development convey a similar message. In one scene, a shot of small boys playing innocently cuts to a shot of older boys acting like thugs. The only solidarity we see between Mia and her mother is when they both dance to Nas rapping “life’s a bitch and then you die.” Its as if the only think the two relate on is how unfair their situation is.

The opening shot is just audio of Mia panting in exhaustion, illustrating how tired she is with her life. She then proceeds to call her friend, Kailey, and beg for forgiveness. Mia is intrinsically obstinate, so she must really be desperately lonely to reach out like that. She has no friends or family that care. Her mother is abusive and negligent, going as far as to tell Mia that she wanted to have her aborted. Also, Mia’s father is nowhere in sight. Because she is so lonely on all fronts, her attention from Conor seems to fill all of these boxes. She wants him romantically, sexually, as a friend, and as a father. Mia’s confused feeling for him are only muddled further by his mixed signals. Only moments before his sexual advance, he holds her as though she’s his child or friend. Her convoluted love for him makes her an easy target to his manipulation.

Mia sees the horse as a symbol for herself. Neither of them belong in such a harsh, restrictive environment. Just as the horse is bolted to the ground, Mia feels trapped in her situation. This also relates to the title of the film, since she feels stuck in her circumstances like a fish is in a tank. Mia is completely powerless but wishes to escape. We see her watching television shows about wealthy Londoners, envisioning a better life for herself. This is why she feels so compelled to free the horse; she is vicariously freeing herself. The horse is also white, symbolizing Mia’s innocence. Similar color imagery is used throughout the film. For instance, Mia says she wishes to become a white tiger. Also, during her sexual encounter, Mia is wearing white, and Conor is wearing black. Throughout the remainder of the film, she wears nothing but black. When the horse’s owner tells her they had to shoot her because she was old and sick, Mia breaks down in tears. This reaction is her realization that her hope and purity are dead as well.

There is a tie between dancing and sexuality. All of the other female characters use dancing as a way to express sexuality; Mia’s mother, Kailey and her new friends, and the women at the audition all dance erotically. Mia, on the other, is far less sexual. She dresses in loose clothing and has a far less voluptuous build. Her dancing doesn’t evoke sexuality; it is her mode of escape not eroticism. However, Mia feels she must become sexual in order to be loved. When she sees her mother grinding on Conor, Mia goes to put on more makeup. She also tries wearing her hair down once she’s told it makes her look more feminine.

I love this movie. Arnold (dir) has an interesting technique that promotes fantastic acting. She only sends the actors the script of the scene they’re about to perform, so the later twists and turns are kept a secret. This makes mini-method situations, creating authentic performances and preserving plot twists. The element of realism evoked both by the acting and the camera work really impressed me.