#subverting your expectations

★★★★

I remember when the first Avengers film came out seven years ago. Back then, it seemed absolutely mind-blowing to have all these characters from their own separate movies come together in one big blockbuster. There were only six of them at that time, but it still felt granular, and it still felt like something that had never been done before.

But as the years went on, and they introduced more superheroes, working together more and more, I felt like they lost some of that magic. In terms of tone and writing they all started to run together (especially after Guardians of the Galaxy, arguably the best stand-alone film, that changed the tone of the MCU forever). Instead of developing unique and interesting characters, everybody felt reduced to one-liners and zings.

And you can’t really blame them, because at a certain point there were just too many superheroes. Infinity War didn’t feel like it did service to anyone in its cast, but that’s because its cast featured twenty-four people on the posters alone, four times the original amount of Avengers. And sure, there were some good individual moments in these movies, but I just didn’t feel invested in Civil War, or Infinity War, or any others wars.

I guess why this movie, Endgame, works for me is because it is an entirely different tone and style from all the previous Avengers films. It’s less a great battle and more a beautiful swan song. The characters know this is their last hurrah, as does the audience and the filmmakers, and everyone wants to go out with a high-class bang.

One of the best things about Endgame is that I don’t think it’s afraid to pull any punches. In a series built around fakeouts, cliffhangers, and people constantly coming back to life, this movie doesn’t really undo any of its major twists. And that commitment lends everything a sense of gravitas, further amplifying that this is a truly a finale.

And the ending of Infinity War actually ended up helping this film a great deal. Simply put, with half the superheroes gone, this movie feels far less bloated. With half the cast, their chemistry really begins to shine through again, and it reflects in the writing. While Infinity War felt congested and awkward, Endgame is given far more room to breathe (of course, the runtime helps that too, and it surprisingly doesn’t feel too long).

It’s difficult to talk about this film without going into spoilers, and I won’t, but if you’re sensitive to spoilers you might want to skip this paragraph. Without getting into specifics, I just want to say that this film pays homage in a very smart way. This movie is built upon over ten years of Marvel; lines, locales, side-characters, battles, dozens if not hundreds of memorable moments. And this film references almost everything you can think of, going back to the first few movies. I’m normally not a fan of callbacks and retreading familiar territory, but I think this film pays homage to its predecessors in some really clever ways, without being too overt about it.

The Wine Tasting

No 2018 movie is more “of its time” than Blindspotting. It’s possible that years from now, we’ll all look back at the bombastic climax of this film and cringe. But for now, Blindspotting is a remarkably simple and nuanced tale about race, class, gentrification, gun violence, and a myriad of other sticky topics drawn straight from the headlines. Daveed Diggs plays Collin, a recently released conflict trying to stay straight, while his friend Miles (Rafael Casal) is constantly causing trouble, and dragging him further and further down. With all the massive statements Blindspotting is trying to make, it might seem overwhelming, but the remarkable writing from these two is so tight that the movie never feels too heavy or too preachy (aside from one titular scene). It’s smart, it’s funny, and it’s maybe the most honest and heartfelt movie of the year.

What Wildlife does best is gel all of its pretty-good components into a terrific movie that is far better than the sum of all its parts. After getting laid off, Jerry (the ever-brilliant Jake Gyllenhaal) takes on a job fighting forest fires, leaving his wife and child, Jean and Joe, (Carey Mulligan and Ed Oxenbould) behind. As Jean becomes less and less codependent on Jerry, she starts making some questionable decisions, leaving 14-year-old Joe to pick up the pieces of their broken family. While the acting from all three is great, what really stands out to me is the writing from power couple Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan. Everything these characters say is seeped in undertone, metaphor, and double meaning. I think a lot of people have overlooked this one, so definitely check it out if you haven’t already.

★★★★★

Wildlife is the kind of film that’s not going to get a lot of Oscars buzz. While all the individual parts of this drama (acting, directing) are very good, none quite excel to the point of becoming awards-worthy. And that’s completely fine, because what they do best is gel together into a terrific movie that is far better than the sum of all its parts.

  Wildlife is the story of a crumbling middle class, middle America family, set in 1960s Montana. After getting laid off, Jerry (the ever-brilliant Jake Gyllenhaal) takes on a job fighting forest fires, leaving his wife and child, Jean and Joe, (Carey Mulligan and Ed Oxenbould) behind. As Jean becomes less and less codependent on Jerry, she starts making some questionable decisions, leaving 14-year-old Joe to pick up the pieces of their broken family.

  The story in itself might not be too compelling, but the way it’s told certainly is. The whole film is seen from the perspective of Joe, and Ed Oxenbould does a terrific job playing the quietly uncomfortable teenager. We watch him awkwardly endure his mother’s reckless abandon, all while quietly hoping that his dad will be able to come home soon. It’s the perfect embodiment of a kid that is having to deal with too many adult problems for his age.

  And it should really come as no surprise that industry-veteran yet first-time-director Paul Dano is a confident and stylish director. His camera has a delicate, almost sweet quality to it as it frames these characters and their beautiful mountainous scenery.    

  But what really stands out to me is the writing from power couple Paul Dano and Zoe Kazan. Between these three characters and their emotions, Jean’s breakdown, Jerry’s troubled masculinity, and Joe’s quiet composure, there’s some damn good dialogue on display. Everything these characters say is seeped in undertone, metaphor, and double meaning. Seriously, I don’t think there’s a single line in this script I can say I didn’t like, and the whole thing does a tremendous job circling back on itself.

★★★★★

I don’t think there’s really any denying this is a beautiful film. Call Me By Your Name is set in beautiful northern Italy, it stars beautiful people, and at the center of it is a beautiful love story. It uses beautiful old school filming and framing techniques to make it even more beautiful. The music is beautiful. The script is beautiful. Everything about this film? Beautiful.

  I guess what I’m getting at is that as much as I completely loved this film, what it does well is very… narrow. Because if you think about many aspects of it, it doesn’t really seem like a very good movie. For example, did we really need another movie about rich white people frolicking around doing absolutely nothing? And did we also need a movie about an older man dating a 17-year-old kid? 

  If you can look past those flaws, I think this movie is basically perfect. And for the most part, I can. I can appreciate this movie as a work of art, because I think that describes it best; it’s just as much about its gorgeous setting and wonderful piano score as it is about its central characters. But in all departments, this movie truly shines: in directing, in writing, and in acting.

  There is little doubt in my mind Timothée Chalamet will go on to be one of the greatest actors this generation. Armie Hammer and Michael Stuhlbarg are wonderful supporting actors, but I think the true star is Chalamet. He effortlessly plays a talented youth who is simultaneously in love with life and totally bored with it. Every pain and every joy is practically bursting out of his skin in this movie. It might appear flippant, or random, or just plain stupid, but I think it’s a fantastic performance.

★★★★★

Blade Runner is one of my all-time favorite movies. I love its plot, I love the third act, but more than anything I love its style and tone. Its futuristic setting is advanced yet primitive, gripping and isolating. It feels gritty. It feels dirty. So I’d been cautiously optimistic for Blade Runner 2049, and now that I’ve seen it, I can safely say it’s a worthy sequel to the best cyberpunk film of all-time.

  Now, having just said that, I want to get the things I didn’t like out of the way first. The style of the original Blade Runner doesn’t exactly transition over to Blade Runner 2049. Everything in 2049 feels futuristic in new ways, but much of the world feels polished and sleek. That’s fine for some sets (such as the Wallace Corp., a massive Replicant producing company), but other sets like the police station and Officer K (Ryan Gosling)’s apartment don’t feel very dark or lived in.

  The other major thing that doesn’t transition over fully is the mood. Blade Runner had a lot of philosophical questions for you to ponder, but it was all delivered in a kind of sublime and ethereal way. Like a half-remembered dream. I’m not gonna say 2049 is very literal and obvious in its themes, but let’s just say it’s a mainstream movie being made in 2017. It has its subtleties, but it’s not as mysterious and slippery as what we got in 1982. But also this movie has only been out for like one day, and we’ve all had years to dissect the subtleties of the original movie.

  Okay, one more thing I didn’t like and then I promise I love the rest of this movie. The first act (roughly the first hour or so) is rough. It’s full of exposition and dialogue that runs contrary to everything I like about Blade Runner. However, I think all of that gets amended because it’s really just a way of introducing you to the characters for more payoff later (of which there is plenty, but talking about characters much more would get into spoilers).

  Let’s talk about that payoff for a minute, because the last half of this movie is just amazing. It’s very slow, heavy, and tantalizing. You cannot look away, because both the story and visuals are so gripping in equal parts. I know, it’s weird to think of a Blade Runner movie as being full of story, but this one kind of is, and I actually didn’t mind it. It’s very clearly trying to be a different movie, and especially in terms of story, it kinda has to be. (It seems like modern audiences don’t really like metaphorical confusing plots that make no sense, e.g. 2013’s Only God Forgives.)

  But again, the visuals are also just stunning. Some shots in this movie deserve to be paintings, they’re just absolutely beautiful. It’s some kind of incredible marriage between light design (which is probably a term I just made up) and cinematography (I know it’s been said a dozen times now, but please give Deakins his Oscar for this movie). Part of that visual work is also the reliance on practical effects; when Officer K flies his car through the city or stares up at a giant 50-foot tall holographic advertisement, it feels a lot more real than something CG could ever do.  

★★★

Wow. I’m really mixed on this one. More than The Force Awakens, more than Rogue One, I think this will soon become the most divisive Star Wars movie. Between some honestly solid acting and character development, there’s countless plot holes and special effects that just look terrible, all wrapped up in a movie that is undeniably too long. I had hoped this would be the fresh start that Star Wars needed, but honestly, I’m worried about Star Wars.

  Before I go into all my issues with this movie, let’s go over what I did like: the characters. I think it’s fair to say they were the best part of The Force Awakens, and the same is true for The Last Jedi. Kylo Ren is still conflicted and captivating (though if you didn’t like him before, you certainly won’t like him now), Rey is still a badass, and Finn is still bumbling and charming. Poe gets a lot more screen time, which is definitely for the better. Meanwhile Luke and Leia are… in this movie? Leia especially hardly feels like a character; she’s given very little screen time, and what she does do is mostly to advance the plot or give some exposition. Mark Hamill’s performance as Luke is probably his best performance… just keep in mind that’s not exactly hard. If it weren’t for how good the characters and acting are here, this would be a two-star movie for me.

  Okay, actual criticisms now. I’m gonna try to keep it mostly spoiler-free, but there will be some light spoilers about some scenes and the nature of the plot.

  One of the most iconic things about Star Wars has always been the incredible and beautiful far-away alien planets. From Mos Eisley Cantina to the Moons of Endor to the scrap shops in the deserts of Jakku, it’s gone to some truly awesome places. Nobody goes anywhere in The Last Jedi. The entire movie is one gimmicky planet, a generic city, and an island. Oh, and two spaceships that really don’t feel special. Other than one incredible set (on an Imperial ship), there’s just nothing special about the setting of this movie. And for a lot of the movie (especially near the end), it looks like shit. Green screen and CGI hasn’t been this bad since… well, since Captain America: Civil War I guess. Where The Force Awakens relied heavily on actual sets and practical effects, it seems like The Last Jedi opts for green screen setpieces. It’s really disappointing and cheap looking.

  But I think the biggest problems I have with this movie stem from the plot. It actually feels a lot like a Marvel movie: we jump between three or four completely separate plots the entire time (think Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2). Each one is riddled with its own plot holes and problems, but worse than that I don’t think any of them are particularly interesting. It’s a largely solitary film as well compared to other Star Wars films. It answers very few questions I had from The Force Awakens, and it sets up Episode IX to go basically anywhere with the plot (but not in a good way). It just feels so directionless, I can practically see the rewrites and revisions as they try to figure out where this saga is headed. I’m not convinced that they know, or that they’re confident about it.