Mandy (2018)

Velvet purples and the use of deliberate light and shadows dance across the entirety of Panos Cosmopolis’ Mandy. Bolstered by a transcendent—and batty—performance by Nicolas Cage, and grabbing the aesthetic of a heavy metal music video and setpieces, it is a breath of fresh air in a year comprised of films hellbent on making safer choices.

The use of tone and aesthetics to create a mood, a feel, that throws back to the 80’s time period in which it takes place—-but is more interesting that the nostalgic pandering that properties like Stranger Things capitalize on. Everything in the film—whether it comes to the lighting or the use of color---feels deliberate. The action is slowed down or sped up to attract the viewer to decipher hidden meanings from what’s on screen.

Playfulness with tone throughout is one of the more interesting aspects of the film. There can be a brutal heart-wrenching scenes followed by one of extreme paranoia or Robocop-esque infomercials—-a grindhouse era horror sensibility that can so easily fall off the rails—-but something about it all works and sticks the landing.

The otherworldly, bizarre Nic Cage is channeled completely in this film, but there is also an interesting mix of the more quiet, reserved Nic Cage, showing off the more indie darling Cage we get to see when he’s really passionate about a project. The fusion of the two personalities works because Cosmatos knows when to reign him in and when to let him go wild.

The strange and haunting imagery throughout transitions from plain bizarre to the unexplainable—in a good way. The monsters in this world that Mandy creates—men, paranormal and the in between—culminates in one long acid trip, drawing in the viewer unapologetically. Many rocks are left unturned, forcing the viewer to go along for the ride or get thrown off in the process. The film is a fever dream of heavy metal rock video battle axes, t-shirts and animated segments reminiscent of the Heavy Metal (1981). The film paints a story with the same feeling of listening to metal records and head-banging. While I never gravitated toward the subculture, the imagery is laid on thick that I feel like I have.

Mandy is streaming on Shudder and all platforms, and definitely worth checking out.

(7.9/10)

Apostle (2018)

The discussion online concerning homage and rip-off poisons forums and Facebook comment threads alike. Was The Hunger Games really a ripoff of Battle Royale? An homage? Does it even matter? Various dystopian novels predicted that government-implemented hive-minds or emotional repression would be the downfall of society. I disagree. Read any Facebook comment thread under anything to do with film or art, and you’ll realize that dystopia is knocking on your front door .Too many people have a voice, and many of them are about as appetizing as the collective pool of fluid at the bottom of a garbage bag. Director Gareth Evans attempts to tackle a plethora of dark ideas, morality and repression in the Netflix original Apostle, and despite this, I think it will be overshadowed by many who are too busy comparing it to other properties (Wicker Man, Silent Hill, The Witch) than to see it for its own merit. Evans has already proved he had a knack for action set-pieces in his previous series of bone-crunching films ---The Raid series---and Apostle has the same craftsmanship, but it's harnessed in different, more experimental ways.

I won't divulge too much about the plot. I think the film is far more fun going in blindly---like most Netlix properties (TANGENT: Netflix often doesn't advertise many of its original properties, and they drop it often out of nowhere, and this inadvertently creates an excitement for movies similar to when I was still surprised by trailers before the age of the internet spoiled literally every detail of a film before you could see it. Remember when you used to see trailers or films and never even know they were going to be made. Netflix has blown new life into that feeling in the internet era, and that is quite a feat in its own right). But the basics are the following: Thomas Richardson (Dan Stevens) attempts to find a lost woman who has been kidnapped by a radical religious cult in 1905, and upon infiltrating the community he uncovers some bizarre happenings that defy explanation and real-world logic. The voyage scene to the island, in which this cult resides, opens like a Jack-in-the-Box of weirdness with a passive sacrifice of animals galore. But how long can this weirdness sustain itself, and does this cult have anything to say of value that makes this backward-thinking community? What is the appeal of such a place? When Thomas arrives to try and find out, many weird practices and suspicions swell like a boiling pot.

Many people I’ve talked to have cited that the first act of Apostle is a slog, which I couldn't disagree more with. To me, it is the most compelling portion, the cutting and direction in the film has an ample energy similar to The Raid films, and a pace that I found more thrilling than most films that take place in this historical period. I never really associated a film from 1905 to move like an action film---but this does. It has enough fresh and interesting surprises that it kept my interest to the end. I think the film would have worked better without such a clean and slick polish to it all, however. Adapting a more grainy, 60’s to 70’s sensibility would have bolstered the last act into something more exploitative and reminiscent of a grindhouse b-movie and better fit the tone. I was completely engaged more by the first two acts than the last act where a profound switch in tone takes place and becomes something entirely different. The last act is the weakest part for me---if I had one quibble---but it has enough interesting ideas and imagery, brutality, that it pulled me by my shirt collar .

An interesting experiment of a film that is entirely worth watching, destined for cult status, and being free to stream on Netflix isn't too bad either. (7.9/10)

5 SUMMER MOVIES TO HELP YOU COOL OFF

Lather on the sunblock, crank the a/c and soak up the rays of bedroom light-bulbs with these five summertime movies to help quell the sweltering summer heat. I decided to compile a list of summertime films that are more light-hearted (Dog Day Afternoon and Do the Right Thing had to stay behind) and three reasons why these films are worth a watch.

American Graffiti (1973)
Directed by George Lucas.
Written by George Lucas, Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck

Before heading off to college, high school graduates spend one final night of hijinks in a Southern California small town.

It’s a love letter to the 60’s. John’s (Paul Le Mat) ‘32 Deuce Coupé purrs beneath the night lights of a small town in the summer of ‘62, him awaiting the next sucker that challenges him to a race, cruising around for girls to take for rides as night flickers into dawn. American Graffiti is one of the ultimate summer movies and period pieces, telling the story of a group of teenagers one summer 1962 night in SoCal. It embodies the peak of car culture in America, where teenagers rumbled their Chevys at slow speeds down the streets with no destination and growly-voiced DJ Wolfman Jack taking requests and casting spells over the radio waves. It drips nostalgia, surrounding people in a simpler time that charms from beginning to end and, whether you are familiar with 60’s Americana or not, the film will make you fall in love for the first time or all over again.

The soundtrack is boss. Music is a constant in American Graffiti and serves as its own character. Arguably having some of the best series of songs in an American film and certified triple platinum upon its release, the soundtrack boasts 41 playful tunes and sizzles the screen with Fats Domino, Chuck Berry and The Crests howling catchy melodies as seconds tick and car engines boom. The music is irresistible and forces calm toes to wiggle and tap, often provoking the same kind of nostalgic flavor of grandparent’s spinning stories of the good ole’ days.
A charming cast. Young Richard Dreyfuss, Ron Howard and even Harrison Ford are among the players in the film and are extremely fun to watch. The actors give off bubbly performances that sweep you into their devil-may-care adventures, yet they can also seamlessly immerse themselves into subtle, understated emotions when the happy-go-lucky events take a turn into the painful reality of leaving friends and lovers behind in order to spark the next chapter of their lives.

Wet Hot American Summer (2001)
Written by Michael Showalter and David Wain. 

Directed by David Wain.

On the last day of camp in the summer of 1981, counselors address romances and unfinished business.

One of the best comedic ensemble casts. Debuting in 2001, Wet Hot American Summer wasn’t a big hit upon its initial release but quickly gained a cult following on home video due to its absurdist comedy. More interesting is the film has incredibly talented comedic actors at the top of their game before they were household names. Paul Rudd, Bradley Cooper, Amy Poehler and Elizabeth Banks to name a few that really nail the over-the-top acting and silliness–and is one of the first movies showcasing how naturally funny Paul Rudd is.

Absurdist gags at their best. It’s not a surprise that Wet Hot American Summer was not a big hit with audiences upon its release. The humor is very specific and appeals to a certain kind of audience. From a man dry-humping a refrigerator to a montage of the counselors going into town for groceries, escalating to them robbing an old lady and being strung out on heroin, then returning to camp cheering and smiling, the film cannonballs into the absurd, unapologetically and often. Once you embrace what it is, it’s a hilarious ride like nothing you’ve seen before.

It’s a great parody of 80’s summer camp films. The film can get away with bizarre gags because it’s a brilliant send-up of popular summer camp films of the 1980’s like Meatballs. Director David Wain has an excellent eye for cliché and takes that to extremes throughout like the entire cast being in their 30’s, but they play teenage camp counselors–a jab at Hollywood’s practice of casting people much older to play 16-year-olds. And as with most summer camp films, Camp Firewood seems to be a haven for the counselors to constantly ignore the kids– and pranks and bullying – with no consequence. There are points where counselors make out with each other while kids drown and scream for help behind them and then it’s just onto the next scene. This underlying darkness to many jokes make this one of my favorite comedies of all time.

Stand By Me (1986)
Directed by Rob Reiner.
Written by Raynold Gideon and Bruce A. Evans.

Four young friends set out on an adventure to find the body of a missing boy.
It has child characters that aren’t stupid. There aren’t many films that capture the experience of being a kid better than Stand By Me. The four main kids on a quest to see a dead body have different personalities, are relatable, and are not dumbed-down. There is an offensive practice in Hollywood films where children are portrayed as cardboard cutouts with no original thoughts or motivations, but this film builds living, meditative children who aren’t oblivious to the harsh reality that life prods at their noses. The kids have real human emotion and address themes such as death, child abuse and family dysfunction through smart, realistic dialogue bolstered by great performances.

Great child performances. It is hard to watch Stand By Me without the behind-the-scenes reality creeping in of River Phoenix’s tragic death of drug overdose at such a young age. The amazing performance he gives as Chris showcases the incredible talent he had for the craft and a true promise of a phenomenal career ahead had his life not been cut short. But it is not just River Phoenix that carries the film, Corey Feldman (Teddy), Wil Wheaton (Gordie) and Jerry O’Connel (Vern) inhabit their roles believably. When existential struggles surface, they react genuinely and evoke empathy because these are real kids dealing with real issues. Without the outstanding performances given by each child lead, the film would suffer and cross into something overly sentimental.

One of the definitive coming-of-age films. The boys in the film are at a crossroads in their life and despite the complexity/abrasiveness of their situation, they are still normal boys in an Oregon small town. The film is narrated by an adult Gordie Lachance (Richard Dreyfuss) writing his memoir, recounting the parable of childhood friends on an adventure to help emphasize that, despite the often gloomy subtext to the boy’s lives, nothing will ever feel as uncomplicated or innocent as your experiences with childhood friends because it predates the loss of innocence and the painful circumstances of adult life.

Adventureland (2009)
Written and Directed by Greg Mottola

A recent college graduate must abandon his plans for the future and take a summer job at a rinky-dink amusement park in the summer of 1987.

Every character feels real. People want to do the right thing, but they also make real-life mistakes, act selfish in their relationships and their personal lives, and learn from those actions. Where many other films try to overexploit emotional scenes or pigeonhole the morality of characters with dialogue over-explaining motivations, Director Greg Mottola respects his audience and shows raw emotion through subtle, surprising performances he draws from Jesse Eisenberg, Kristen Stewart and Ryan Reynolds. There is an authenticity to these characters that trickles across each frame.

One of the best soundtracks in recent memory. The film takes place in the summer of 1987, and instead of committing the tawdry choice of taking the most obvious, clichéd 80’s music and injecting it into the background, real music reflecting the era/culture of the time is used. Boasting a soundtrack of Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, Husker Du and The Cure, the music is not only great to listen to but no song feels forced, and the music often carries scenes to a higher level, effectively bolstering mood and emotion without becoming a distraction. More interestingly, all of the unapologetically 80’s songs like “Rock Me Amadeus,” are used in an ironic fashion, the character’s often pointing out how tacky the “popular music” is—an almost meta-critique of clichéd period piece soundtracks.

It’s a relatable story. What makes this movie insanely re-watchable is the exploration of the uncertainty and issues young people experience. Where other films would tackle problems like alcoholism in a melodramatic light, they are portrayed through background shots, lines of dialogue and subtle performances. The film respects its audience by showing not telling. Alcoholism is addressed by a shot of Brendan’s (Jesse Eisenberg) father in the background blending a drink without the lid on or a bottle of vodka being found hidden underneath the seat of a car. A lesser film would derail these scenes explaining, but Adventureland doesn’t pause to point issues out, they just kind of exist, like in life, and this adds a depth to the film that rewards multiple viewings.

Dazed and Confused (1993)
Written and Directed by Richard Linklater.

Graduating and incoming high school students get into trouble on the last day of school in summer of 1976.

It knows what the 70’s were like. Despite being made in the 90’s, Director Richard Linklater’s depiction of the 1970’s is a true love letter to an era filled with kids hanging out in the back of an El Dorado’s truck bed while sipping beers and shooting the breeze. Each locale, hairstyle and song choice is pitch perfect and perfectly illustrates what it feels like graduating high school, and the friendships we potentially have to leave behind as we grow into adulthood.

Fun performances by stars before they were big. One of the more fun aspects of Dazed and Confused is seeing the cavalcade of celebrities on screen before they were household names and had Oscars sitting on their mantle. You get to see Ben Affleck as a paddle-swinging jock bully, Milla Jovovich as a free-spirited, groovy chick and most famously Matthew McConaughey as a loitering, ultra-creep that loves high school girls because “[he] get[s] older, they stay the same age. Yes they do.”

You don’t watch it, you live it. Linklater creates a film with an innate ability to capture real moments in an honest way with the simplicity of the narrative–high school kids hang out and get into trouble on the last day of school in May of 1976. These characters feel like people you know and share genuine experiences/dialogue, and pull you into their world instead of feeling like a spectator. You become a fly on the wall of a mellow summer night filled with friends, joints and an absence of smart phones or selfie sticks. It will make you feel like you’re living in the wrong era.

5 Must-See Independent Films

For this first list, I decided to narrow my choices to character studies exploring the darker, moody aspects of life and were made for a budget of less than 7 million dollars. Each film showcases the unique voices of indie directors and tell stories that captivate the human experience and resonate deeply.

Brick (2005)
Director: Rian Johnson

A highly stylized and gorgeous homage to 50’s noir films, Brick is unique from other less ambitious Indies and wickedly underrated. Considered the benchmark film for Joseph Gordon-Levitt as he broke into the more serious actor he is today, he plays Brendan, a teenager on the quest to investigate the sudden disappearance of his high school ex-girlfriend Emily (Emilie de Ravin); and a conspiracy of drugs and betrayal begin to unravel. Bursting with incredible cinematography evocative of Spaghetti Westerns, and essentially the modern lovechild of The Maltese Falcon with many references to be found, director Rian Johnson (Looper and upcoming Star Wars Episode VIII) truly employs every ingredient of his 500,000 dollar budget. It echoes a production value of a higher budgeted film with incredible orchestral music that tips its hat at the genre he is idolizing. But it is the compelling detective story that unfolds that truly sets it apart: the dialogue drips in machismo and the tone and overall peculiarity of the mystery strangles your attention. Levitt delivers an incredibly interesting performance of understated sadness and hunched-over stoicism as the lead (loosely based on Spike Siegel, the title character from Anime Cowboy Bebop). While Brick may alienate certain viewers unfamiliar with the noir genre, dismissing it for its on-the-nose dialogue and absence of realism misses the point entirely. A must-see for those who appreciate storytelling and pulpiness of a genre that has almost dimmed entirely into obscurity.

The Wrestler (2008)
Director: Darren Aronofsky

Many of us search for success in our lives. For those who have gained glory and lost it, what then gives our life meaning? Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson (Mickey Rourke), washed-up wrestler, seeks to reclaim his lost splendor and restore his relationship with his daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood) to gain a sense of purpose in The Wrestler. However, the road to recovery is paved with repentance, regret and low-paying backyard wrestling gigs in front of crowds no more than thirty. What makes The Wrestler compelling, above all else, is its innate ability to capture a man at his most desperate without teetering into melodrama. Filmed in a way that almost makes it look like a documentary, it chronicles the uniquely human search for redemption through fame, fortune, and in Randy’s case, second chances at stardom. The story acts as an allegory for Mickey Rourke’s own personal life and career—being a professional boxer himself and falling from the limelight—adding an unexpected complexity to the narrative. Director Darren Aronofsky’s steady fingers draw deeply personal, yet subtle pain from Rourke, flooding the screen with genuine emotion and one of the best performances in over a decade. Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood also provide excellent supporting acts that highlight the tragic, unflinching character flaws of Randy the Ram’s psyche. You root for him despite his continuous narcissistic choices and vicious cycle he thrusts upon himself that leave him loveless and alone, and it ultimately culminates in a beautifully metaphorical ending about our incessant drive for recognition as human beings.

American Splendor (2003)
Directors: Shari Springer Berman, Robert Pulcini

Perhaps one of the most criminally overlooked films of the 2000’s, American Splendor surrounds the real-life story of file clerk by day and underground comic book creator by night: Harvey Pekar. Fictionally portrayed by Paul Giamatti (with real narration and interviews by Pekar himself cut between), the film captures the essence of a working class artist (Pekar) who wants comic books to illustrate the real life he experiences in Cleveland day-to-day, brushing elbows with heavy hitters in the underground comic industry like Robert Crumb along the way. What sets American Splendor apart from typical Hollywood biopics is the absence of gaudiness and grandiose set pieces often breathing within films of more well-known celebrities. There is a noticeable absence of Oscar-baiting, and it suits the story of Harvey Pekar quite brilliantly since he’s an artist, yet always an unapologetic, normal guy at heart. The film’s adherence to blunt realism in its storytelling—even having the film itself tiptoeing into the meta with real-life Pekar criticizing the film within itself—grounds the narrative and creates an authentic tone. This authenticity serves as a wonderful companion piece to Pekar’s autobiographical comics that focus on neo-realism rather than spandex-wearing supermen. The leap to make comics about ordinary life not only established Pekar as a visionary for the medium, but also attracted new voices and respect for comics as a non-fiction art form. Harvey is a man who doesn’t need nor want fame, strongly resisting the entertainment industry machine that sees him as the butt of a joke, and instead sticks to his roots despite offers to sell out. The film is in sync with his principles.


Blue Valentine (2010)
Director: Derek Cianfrance

Dean (Ryan Gosling) strums the strings of his ukulele to the pitter patter of Cindy’s (Michelle Williams) tap-dancing feet, singing “You Always Hurt the Ones You Love” by The Mills Brothers , frolicking among the hustle of New York City as they fall for each other. However, Blue Valentine is not a love story: it’s about the surrender of one’s heart to another and the emotional descent once we lose grasp of love. It is one of the most truthful, tragic depictions of a relationship crumbling and arguably features the best performance by Gosling to date, perfectly capturing a man who gives up his life for someone else and attempts to salvage the irreparable cracks within his relationship. The explicit realism carved into each frame, juxtaposing the couple falling in and out of love, and it’s deeply personal narrative smothers you with a constant sense of underlying dread, eventually leaving you to drown in uncertainty and hopelessness about the nature of love and marriage. The loss and desperation one feels clinging to unrequited love is perfectly illustrated through Gosling’s and Williams’ dialogue, painting heartbreak from both perspectives and the film rewards multiple viewings—often meaning something starkly different depending on the mindset you bring to it. Never for the faint of heart, always interesting, and an imperative viewing for those of us who embrace all facets of love, including the brooding darkness it may lead us to.


Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Director: Quentin Tarantino

A nonsensical title, a soundtrack dripping with 70’s coolness and quite possibly the strongest debut feature film of any American filmmaker, Reservoir Dogs single-handedly launched Quentin Tarantino’s visionary career and shook the branches of American independent filmmaking forever. Surrounding the aftermath of a botched diamond heist, robbers adorned in black suits and ties must sniff out who ratted them to the police, escaping to a hideout of an abandoned warehouse. The film works like a stage play in its structure, most of it taking place in one room with brief flashbacks to the past showing how they landed in such dire circumstances, allowing it to revel in its small budget and perfect screenplay possessing dialogue that is concise, realistic and darkly funny. Often imitated but never equaled (except maybe in Tarantino’s other films) the surviving thieves, nicknamed after colors to preserve their real-life identity, Mr. White, Mr. Pink and a severely wounded Mr. Orange question each other’s loyalty as the clock ticks and paranoia swells. Performances given by Harvey Keitel, newcomer-at-the-time Steve Buscemi and Tim Roth create a tension that billows, and the sadistic Mr. Blonde played by Michael Madsen is a psychopath so cool you can’t help but love him. Despite being Tarantino’s first feature film, every scene is threaded precisely and equal to a master filmmaker, yet he makes it look so effortless that it transcends belief. The film continues to influence and inspire. And, it must be said that the ear torture scene still makes me cringe. It never fails to profoundly entertain no matter how many times I watch it. A celebration of noir, grindhouse cinema, heist movies and pulp that points a finger in the face of pretension and earns its medal as one of America’s best films.

The One I Love (2014) - REVIEW

If you could be with the ideal version of your partner would you be happier? Is embracing them for their flaws part of the accepted insanity that is love? The One I Love aims to answer that by reinventing a familiar premise with excellent performances and a quirky, clever script fusing relatable human drama with science fiction.

When we first meet Ethan (Mark Duplass) and Sophie (Elizabeth Moss) they are in a rut, both describing a night to their marriage counselor during which they crept into a stranger’s backyard for a late-night swim, fearful to be caught, before jumping into the pool and realizing that the owner is not home, floating in the water on their anniversary with only a cinder of excitement; but this isn’t the first time this evening has happened—in fact it is a botched attempt at recreating their first date, to rekindle the fiery relationship they once had, now only at a simmer.

Their marriage counselor (Ted Danson) suggests that perhaps their problem is trying to relive their past happiness when they should be replenishing their passion through new memories and experiences instead. He recommends a weekend getaway at a countryside vacation home where his other patients have stayed and the magic of the area made the couples “fall in love again.” Willing to try anything, Ethan and Sophie agree to go. They arrive at a lush, private home with surrounding gardens, hillsides and a charming guest house where they indulge in food, wine and pot—all serving as a welcomed change to the tired, habitual aspects of their relationship.

Twenty minutes into the film, nothing about the plotline seems radically diverse. There are some quirky lines of dialogue and visible chemistry between the two leads, but no single element that sets it apart from most indies that start similarly—but it is precisely when you think The One I Love is going to confine itself to overdone formulas – until – it surprises you in unexpected ways. Quickly into it, things turn unexpectedly, and a seemingly normal indie dramedy begins drifting into a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. When Ethan and Sophie discover two people that look exactly like their significant other every time they enter the guest house alone, they are baffled because they are not Ethan and Sophie. The “mirror image” of their partners look like them, speak like them, but have minor tweaks to their personality that represent every positive quality they feel is lacking with the “real versions” of their partners, acting as sort of a Stepford wife and husband, tempting both the real Ethan and Sophie into falling in love with inauthentic copies for reasons yet to be explained.

Weren’t expecting that were you? Neither was I, and that occurs within the first twenty minutes of the 91-minute film. Divulging any more about what transpires afterward is too spoiler-ridden and would ruin the fun and mystery of the film; but the couple’s supernatural discovery tests their fading relationship in a series of unusual ways and raises many conflicts couples struggle with—albeit in a strange Rod Serling kind of way.

When watching the film, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Spike Jonze/Charlie Kaufmann collaborations with its profound yet not garish weirdness. Although there is a speedy emergence of science fiction elements, the film shines by remaining grounded as a story about a man and woman struggling with temptation, and thankfully, the paranormal aspect never acclimates to a point of lunacy or camp. Excellent cinematography (by Doug Emmett), a quaint musical score (by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans.) and wonderful, confident direction by rookie filmmaker Charlie McDowell only bolster the production value of the film. Both Duplass and Moss give excellent performances — each actor displaying their range with two different characters, impeccably walking the tightrope between surrealism and profoundly emotive drama.

The film has a keen sense of self-awareness and capitalizes on it, poking fun at cliches by bending them into unfamiliar shapes that is both humorous and inventive all together. The One I Love is a perfect addition to the genre fusion of recent years, not hindering itself with safe, expected choices or clumsy resolutions. A pleasant surprise.

Refuge (2014) REVIEW

Amy Behr (Krysten Ritter) becomes a mother out of unexpected circumstances. She tries to raise her two younger siblings who struggle with day-to-day life: her younger brother, Nat (Logan Huffman), writes to-do lists concerning mundane tasks, like attempting to converse with other people, after he has a brain tumor removed that mildly disables him . Amy’s teenage sister, Lucy (Madeleine Martin), has a hatred of high school and experiments with drugs and shoplifting as her grades slip. It is not until a handsome stranger living in his truck named Sam (Brian Geraghty) surfaces in their town does Amy’s familiar family structure become shaken. She instantly shares a connection with Sam and as they both begin to learn more about each other, Sam tries to become a father figure to Amy’s younger siblings, in the process trying to establish a sense of purpose after a personal tragedy was thrust upon him during a path of reflection and self-discovery that inevitably led him to Amy and her siblings.

Refuge is directed by Jessica Goldberg who also wrote the play the film is adapted from. Having never seen the play, I can’t confidently say that the play might be better than the film or perhaps it simply didn’t translate well to the silver screen—but the film adaptation meanders often. Characters seem incapable of knowing what they truly want or feel and because of this it often feels like a jumbled mess of extraneous scenes and dialogue.

The shame of it all is the film has an excellent cast and stellar performances. Logan Huffman who plays her disabled brother, authentically paints a portrait of a young man struggling to reconnect with other people and his subplot is often more interesting than the main focus of the story. Madeleine Martin also gives an understated performance as the party-going sister who battles against conformity. And while Krysten Ritter’s performance as Amy is often excellent, the sloppy script makes her jump unexpectedly into borderline lunacy, frequently and sporadically on screen—often being on the verge of a nervous breakdown and seemingly incapable of raising a family or even taking care of herself—and by the next scene she’ll seem painfully normal. Brian Geraghty as Sam gives the best performance and has a much more interesting character with clearer intentions throughout—but his decision to stick around feels forced and unrealistic, his tumultuous relationship with Amy and her siblings often flying off the rails at the drop of a hat.

Refuge is a jumbled mess of sporadic characterization that often makes the people we are supposed to care about feel unreliable, detracting from realism—something that is crucial in a subtle, small film like this to be effective. It is commonly blurred what the film is trying to say, if anything, and larger conflicts that arise as Amy and her younger siblings clash with accepting Sam as one of their own are quickly abandoned with jumpy cuts (and without real reason), repeatedly feeling like a random assortment of scenes and dialogue that don’ quite connect to each other. I was very surprised that a film based on a play would feel so cut-and-pasted and because of that, a narrative with abundant potential is buried underneath too many subplots in a very short 84-minute run-time.

Available to watch on all major streaming platforms.

The Congress (2014) - A HIDDEN GEM

If given the choice to be young forever, would you jump at the opportunity? Actress Robin Wright (Princess Bride, House of Cards) is given that choice, albeit through contractual agreements, by the fictional Miramount Studios in Ari Folman’s (Waltz with Bashir) The Congress. Studio executives propose her body and facial expressions should be scanned by advanced computers with motion capture technology so they can puppeteer her image into c-grade films and, as the greedy studio head Jeff (Danny Huston) would argue, “keep her young forever.” The only stipulation: she can never act in films, television or stage again—and she will be given a lump sum of money in return for signing away her identity. Wright reluctantly agrees at the pressure of her agent (Harvey Keitel) who argues her poor life choices and burned bridges have left them with few other options to consider.

Twenty years follow and a grey-haired Robin Wright drives a sports car down a desolate desert road of a very different America; the rapid expansion of science and technology has created a culture of psychedelic pharmaceuticals that can change reality into an animated world that looks like the personal nightmares of Mickey Mouse. Penn arrives at the gate for Miramount Studios, taking the drug at the urging of a security guard, and descends into a psychedelic world of land-swimming whales, robot butlers and other fantastical characters and creations. Nothing is what it seems, nobody can be trusted, and the concept of reality and personal freedom is now a stale concept.

The first act of The Congress is live-action, filmed by Michal Englert, a Polish cameraman that won best cinematography at Sundance for Lasting, and every frame is absolute beauty; each scene a canvas to be explored, consisting of vibrant colors and moody set pieces that draw you in like a Van Gogh painting. Soon after, the film transitions entirely into colorful and surreal animation that has an underlying sense of dread in its imagery. The switch from live-action to animation can be jarring at first, but it differs from films like Cloud Atlas which make jerky tonal choices that create eye-rolls rather than dropped jaws—and that is due to an incredibly strong script that shelters the animated segment from treading on tacky, kitschy seas—instead creating a brainy science fiction film that surprises the audience often and explores the depths of the human heart.

That being said, The Congress isn’t a perfect film. It can feel a bit uneven in its tone—sometimes teetering between a Spike Jonze and Wachowski Bros. film—and it expects the audience to willingly extend a hand to the lengthy, animated portion without struggle—but the flaws are embraceable since the script continuously remains clever. The dark, inventive aspects of the story not only prove interesting but often satirical, hoisting itself beyond extrasensory schlock with gorgeous imagery and sharp wit. It unapologetically jabs at big business and the film industry at large, all the while portraying tangible relationships between its characters amid the chaotic, psychedelic elements.

Robin Wright’s performance really carries the film as she battles against a world voluntarily surrendering their freedom to become a figment of their own imaginations; she brings density to the self-deprecating role of herself, and although animated for most of the film she still exhibits her versatility as an actress. Harvey Keitel, Paul Giamatti, Jon Hamm, and Kodi Smit-McPhee complement Wright’s performance with compelling characters that exhibit the remaining humanity in a world of nightmarish delusion and rampant greed.

Loosely based on the satirical novel The Futurological Congress by Stanislaw Lem, The Congress is an ambitious and flawed film that takes bold and imaginative leaps many films fear to attempt: it will satisfy as well as polarize and while I think a second viewing of The Congress is necessary to prove the fantastical elements hold water, it is undeniably an entertaining and trippy experience that will quell the thirstiest of art-house and science fiction fans. I highly recommend giving it a look and definitely go into it with an open mind. Arguably one of my favorite films at the Newport Beach Film Festival of 2014 and a real head-scratcher.

Ready Player One (2018) - 100 WORDS OR LESS

Dir: Steven Spielberg

A milquetoast main character that lacks charisma, blatant cliches, and lazy direction, Ready Player One is fan culture fodder that is painfully unoriginal. Ben Mendelsohn and supporting cast do their best with little to do; and one interesting, original sequence involving The Shining shows potential, but the third act is lazy: many jokes flop, the acting is beyond terrible, and too many coincidences led me to believe the film would be written-off as one long dream sequence. References to beloved properties feel tacked-on, uninspired, reminding me of better films with compelling characters/plot lines. It flounders what Super 8 accomplishes effortlessly (6/10).

Hereditary (2018) - 100 WORDS OR LESS

Dir: Ari Aster

A highbrow haunted house movie. More homage to Rosemary’s Baby than Paranormal Activity, a genre aficionado’s horror film filled with slow-burning dread. It treads into familiar tropes while tweaking them to still feel fresh. Bound to divide audiences like Robert Egger’s The Witch, often appealing to a niche offshoot of horror fandom with use of symbolism, deliberate imagery, and sometimes labored pacing. Anguish, death, grief swells throughout, and is strengthened by one of the top performances of 2018 by Toni Collete. She brings tangible, deafening pain to scenes never once pulling emotional punches, merging the paranormal with genuine human grief. (8.5/10)

GMO OMG (2014) - REVIEW

Like most Americans, I begrudgingly wave the white flag of surrender when it comes to healthy eating–mainly due to financial reasons, but also because I know corporations like Monsanto have their genetically modified finger in my mouth when choosing my food and drink. Many aspects of what we put on our plate, whether it be the farm our corn is harvested from or even the choice of organic or artificial at the grocery store, is often beyond our control. Unless we farm our own crops and raise our own livestock, we simply don’t know what’s in our food. And even for the most well-informed foodie, there is a catch-22 due to high costs of organic food being much less appetizing than the short-term savings of a Slim Jim or other such mystery meat. Yet, this is nothing new; it has been happening for a long time, frequently under the public’s noses, so do we really have choices when it comes to what we eat?

Father and rookie filmmaker Jeremy Seifert seeks out to answer that question in his comical and eye-opening debut documentary GMO OMG. A film that originally hatched from his parental concerns about what he’s feeding his children and to satisfy a curiosity about what genetically modified organisms (GMOs) really are, if they have lasting health effects, or is it all just widespread hysteria and paranoia—something as uniquely American as apple pie.

The crusade for answers involves a series of interviews with politicians, seed salesman and trips across America and the world—some leading as far as an international seed vault concealed within a Norwegian mountain. But the film, at its core, mainly serves as a journey of Seifert’s to educate his children, who have a love of collecting seeds, why they should be concerned about new genetically modified seeds on the market.

Interposed between interviews are animated segments explaining the more complicated issues that arise regarding the food industry, with facts and statistics that often anger and shock—frequently concerning the corporation and agricultural biotechnology giant Monsanto, a company that has patents on genetically-engineered super seeds they designed and massively distributed to most commercial farms. It does sound a bit Orwellian that one giant company has a hand in almost everything we eat, but it is a stark reality of our modern market and the documentary sheds light on Monsanto’s corrupt practices ranging from providing farmers and post-earthquake Haitians with non-renewable, parasitical seeds at the expense of agricultural sovereignty, leading as far as 500 million dollars worth of lobbying in Washington D.C. to strike down bills asking for the labeling of GMOs, ensuring status quo and hindering Americans’ freedom-of-choice.

Despite the bleakness and seeming defeat over our food that Seifert exposes he tries to keep his documentary light-hearted, optimistic and filled with humor in addition to prying answers—and he succeeds. One particular scene has Seifert comparing how his mother would run through cornfields to play as a child—but due to worry about modern corn possessing GMOs, Seifert and his boys dress up in hazmat suits and gas masks in order to be safe whilst frolicking in the cornrows. It is this wedging of sharp wit with eye-opening evidence that keeps the film fresh and entertaining—yet at the same time never loses sight of keeping the film grounded in its roots: a father wanting what is best for his family—with candid footage of his wife and boys fishing, playing and generally enjoying life amidst the surrounding madness.

The only real complaint I have about the film—besides the goofy title—is the under-representation of his wife. His photogenic children play an extremely large role throughout, but his wife is often confined to the background of scenes, never really providing substantial insight about her concerns as a mother, just a few lines and smirks about her husband’s quirky obsession with GMOs. Also, Seifert’s narration feels a bit overused at times, but the documentary succeeds where many others fail: it is concise. Never does it feel sloppily edited, containing extraneous scenes, but it is rather precise in its narrative with an energetic and lightning-fast pace that not only entertains, but also doesn’t undercut the power of its message by being too short.

Ultimately, the documentary prods Americans to question what contributes to our dwindling culture, mainly our self-sacrifice of our values with mere convenience. Near the closing credits, a young Haitian woman performs a traditional dance, confident and unyielding, embodying her proud culture and traditions, a representative of a people who burned Monsanto seeds donated after the devastating 2010 earthquake in direct defiance of the corporation, and as a symbol of their unwillingness to lose their agricultural sovereignty. Seifert’s film challenges Americans to adopt the same revolutionary spirit concerning Monsanto, no longer having our support for the uprooting of our values by big business. It promotes long-lasting change with small actions, driving home the point that something as simple as planting a seed in someone’s mind, or even in our own backyards, can grow into a movement much larger than anticipated and long overdue.

I, Tonya (2017) - 100 Words or Less

Comparable to Goodfellas in its execution, an experimental powerhouse of direction and narrative playfulness. Snubbed for best picture at The Oscars this year, this film deserves more praise for being more intelligent and introspective than the subject matter deserves. Bolstered by an amazing ensemble cast, Margot Robbie’s depiction of Tonya Harding as a sympathetic, heartbreaking figure is as fascinating as it is polarizing. The narrative plays with facts, acting as a gonzo, meta-fictional satire of media sensationalism and toxic American pop culture. Culminating in a film more Grecian tragedy than Hollywood biopic, I, Tonya is a charming, fun, and smart surprise. (9/10)

Any Given Sunday (1999) - Mini Review

An amalgamation of ideas, characters, and pacing, Any Given Sunday breaks cliches while also reveling in them, proving to be one of the most interesting and frustrating football movies ever made, and a perfect echo to Oliver Stone's ego in itself.

The cast is diverse, amazing and frustrating at the same time. This seems to be the running motif with all of Oliver Stone’s films after Natural Born Killers. Jamie Foxx gives a breakout performance, and leaves no question as to why he became a star after it. Al Pacino is his Pacino-iest in this, and while this may not be very different than his normal shtick, damn is it entertaining. As Foxx jettisons fast toward super stardom, devolving him into a shell of what he once was as newly obtained power tends to corrupt, he loses his way. The cutthroat ice queen of Cameron Diaz reminds me of when she gravitated toward interesting, out-of-the-box performances before she decided to voice Shrek movies and participate in unfunny c-grade comedies for the rest of her career.

The conclusion of the film tends to abandon all of the character arcs it sets up in the previous 90 mins, which is supremely disappointing, attempting to wrap up everyone in a nice bow with changes in personality, relationships and motivations, which feels tacked on and lazy. Regardless, the film’s first two acts, despite the frustrating edits where Oliver Stone aggressively wafts his own farts at the screen. The film still stuck the landing for me, and tries a lot harder than most football films tend to do, and though it plucks heavily from the same football films it's trying to separate itself from, there was enough here to leave me engaged throughout. (7.5/10)

Personal Shopper (2017) - 100 Words or Less

Moody, introspective reflection of our times, showcasing the nomadic, modern lifestyle and search for purpose in a deeply impersonal digital age. Personal Shopper has more breathing within than average ghost story fare, managing to unearth deep emotional depth, and challenge conventional storytelling, without feeling stuffy or pretentious. Unfamiliar with Director Olivier Assayas previous work, if the rest of his films have an inkling of the understated, careful touch this one does, then there will be much to discover. Primed by a beautiful and haunting ending that begged for a second viewing, and alluded to further mysteries and revelations to uncover. (8/10)

The Cloverfield Paradox (2018) - 100 Words Or Less

A messy, cliched film that sacrifices character beats for regurgitated set pieces stolen from other science fiction movies. Borrowing from Alien, Sunshine and Event Horizon, the paradox becomes more about what went wrong behind the scenes, and how this movie was clearly salvaged by the studio slapping the Cloverfield brand on it to diminish a financial loss. Why should we care about characters we never spend enough time with to give their lives or deaths any meaning? If there is a silver lining to be found, it is free to stream on Netflix. A movie theater 5; a Netflix 7. (5/10)

Crimson Peak (2015) - Review

A film that is more beautiful than it has any right to, mildly losing its balance when it takes a plunge into the ghost and horror element near the end; a far more interesting Gothic parable than expected.

As far as Guillermo Del Toro is concerned, I will see anything he makes. Even if I find one of his films, uneven or lacking big ideas, which a lot do, there’s usually enough interesting things sandwiched in to like. He’s one of the most versatile filmmakers working, making passion projects that are small and character-driven, and then follow it up by making something gaudy and big like Pacific Rim---an excuse, I expect, to gather enough money to produce a smaller, more personal film the year after. And being late to the party on this film, most of my friends saying it is “fine,” I had low expectations.

A local art-house theater highlighting Del Toro films was screening the film for a final day this week, and even though the reputation of Crimson Peak is less than stellar, I decided to give it a shot on a bigger screen, expecting to get more out of it there than the confines of my home. And I was pleasantly surprised by how much there is to love.

Mia Wasikowska plays Edith Cushing, a 19th century aspiring writer in Buffalo, New York. Her father is a wealthy industrialist, but she wants make a name for herself with a story she’s writing that people dismiss as a “ghost story” despite her struggle to explain there’s more to find if they took the time to read on. A man from across the Atlantic, Thomas Sharpe (Thomas Hiddleston) who is showcasing a machine to Edith’s father, is immediately disliked and rejected by him. Edith, however, finds Sharpe charming, falls in love with him and follows him to his family estate Alderdale Hall, a creaky and crumbling home referred to by locals as Crimson Peak due to the red clay foundation it sits upon.  Sharpe’s more unbalanced sister Lady Lucille (Jessica Chastain) is cold and unwelcoming to Edith, seeing her as an intruder, and as the days pass ghosts begin to surface, clawing above the red clay from beneath the home, and screaming of a sinister past. Suspicious intentions by both Sharpe and his sister are unearthed as Edith investigates and wades deeper into the buried secrets within the walls of Crimson Peak.

While the argument could be made that Crimson Peak definitely loses its narrative footing when it crosses into horror full-stop, there is so much to enjoy from this film in its Gothic architecture and story that it is very difficult for me to dismiss it as a lesser work, as there is such a clear effort from the production and costume designers that far bigger films have little inklings. The Gothic atmosphere, the clear influence in color palette reminiscent of Italian horror films (Dario Argento's Suspiria came to mind throughout) was so gorgeous and expertly crafted,  invoking moody, wonderful set-pieces. Visuals alone, the film is worth a watch; but it has a lot more going for it beneath the surface, and isn’t as icy or wooden as viewers say it is.

Admittedly, the story is shelved behind the cinematography; and the dialogue can be overbearing at times to where I could see why some viewers may cringe or roll their eyes. But the film’s period setting allowed that to be ignored and kept me engaged, never throwing my interest overboard. The clear effort in every frame overshadows  these minor problems, plucking the film out of a sloppy amalgamation beyond repair. Edith is a strong female character that has things to do, never feeling like a victim swept up by circumstances that other films in the genre tread heavily. Wasikowska gives a strong performance that is believable and sympathetic in the face of the internal and external demons. Hiddleston is a charming, sinister con man that has a complexity beneath the surface that is compelling and Chastain hams it up without being overwrought as his mentally inept sister, chewing the scenery in fun ways. The ending may be the weakest portion, perhaps because of Charlie Hunnam who is giving the weakest performance in the film, but the step into interesting territory far more than the recent The Shape of Water kept me  immersed into this gorgeous, terrifying world.

Perhaps Crimson Peak suffers being chained to the audience’s expectations. Those who desire a straight horror film won’t be pleased, and those who expect a Gothic Romance will be disappointed as well. It fuses the two genres together, and does so in less-than-desirable results at times. It works for me as a fairytale, a ghost story, something I would love to listen to as a child before bed. Expertly crafted and visualized in ways that only Del Toro can, if you have the chance to see it in a theater I highly recommend doing so. (8/10)

Last Flag Flying (2017) - 100 Words or Less

While teetering into over-sentimentality, Linklater reigns in the film with bouts of strong direction and human moments in the face of tragedy. More nuanced performances by Fishburne and Carell are often overshadowed by a larger than life performance by Bryan Cranston; but the honest talk and revelations concerning morality during wartime, the regrets they carry, and the search for meaning and faith felt genuine. As their glory days trail further in the rear-view mirror, this road trip of self-reflection kept me engaged; and despite careening into old-fashioned territory sporadically, a strong heartbeat underneath keeps the film on a sincere path. (7.5/10)