Yesterday (2019)

Tags

Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Musical, Romance

Yesterday, I knew my worth,
Which wasn’t much, I must admit,
But now today, of all on Earth,
I see a hole in which I fit.

It seems that I alone can see,
Can know, can do what others can’t,
And filling such a role, for me,
Is quite a gift for God to grant.

I cannot help but feel at times
That I’m perhaps a hypocrite,
But won’t it be the worst of crimes
To take a gift and stifle it?
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

I’m rarely the type of moviegoer who has to see a movie as soon as it comes out, unless it’s some hype-heavy series like Marvel or Star Wars, but I do wish I could have seen Yesterday in the theater, not because it’s that great and wonderful but because I could have seen it with my dad while he was still alive. Ever since the first trailer for Yesterday came out a year ago, I had high hopes for its brilliant premise of a musician waking up in a world where no one knows of the Beatles, especially since my dad was a huge Beatles fan. Yet as with most movies, we subconsciously decided to wait and see it on DVD, giving my dad’s cancer a chance to take him before he got the opportunity. “Yesterday came suddenly,” indeed.

It’s hard for me not to associate this movie with the missed opportunity with my dad, but what of the film itself and its own merits? Well, it’s quite a decent charmer, made better by its celebrated soundtrack. There’s a popular Japanese genre called isekai, in which someone from our world is somehow transported to another, usually some fantasy realm with magic. In the case of struggling singer/songwriter Jack Malik (Himesh Patel), he awakens from a bike accident in an alternate world where significant bits of pop culture are missing, most notably the music of the Beatles. Seeing a morally gray opportunity, he passes off their songs as his own, becoming an overnight sensation and sparking mixed feelings in his long-time manager/crush Ellie (the always lovely Lily James).

Yesterday is pretty much exactly the British isekai that was promised in the trailers, but it didn’t exceed my expectations much or dive as deeply into its premise as it could have. Patel and James have good chemistry, and there are plenty of occasions for unexpected humor, such as the feedback from Jack’s producers about the more eccentric names from the Beatles’ discography. Ed Sheeran also puts in a good-natured cameo as himself, and there’s an unexpected moment toward the end that was surprisingly touching. There’s just something missing, and not just that they never play “Get Back” or “Drive My Car,” despite a good excuse to use the latter. It’s one of those puzzling films that feels like it should be better based on its brilliant premise, yet I can’t say I know how to improve it myself.

One weakness is that the songs suffer somewhat from Patel’s solo covers. He’s a proper singer, but without the four-person harmonies and multiple instruments, it’s harder to see the strength of the songs alone rocketing Jack to the status of an overnight sensation. Nevertheless, I feel like my dad would have really enjoyed Yesterday. The strength of its core idea, likable actors and classic music are enough to make it an enjoyable, feel-good watch. There’s just a lingering sense that it could have been more.

Best line: “You want a good life? It’s not complicated. Tell the girl you love that you love her. And tell the truth to everyone whenever you can.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
659 Followers and Counting

 

Anna and the Apocalypse (2018)

Tags

Christmas, Comedy, Drama, Horror, Musical

When the world is collapsing, the nation on edge,
The whole of society out on a ledge,
The sky close to falling, disease at a high,
And dead people don’t even know when to die,
It only makes sense that, when fear’s on the rise,
The level heads left of us prioritize.

Sure, some go for water, and some hunt for food,
And some say we just need the right attitude,
But while these survivalists weigh their concerns
And plan for the worst to diminish returns,
A few must step up to remind all the rest
Of one thing emergencies need when distressed.

MUSIC! That’s right. It’s so often neglected,
But soundtracks do wonders for those not infected.
When life’s at a low, just compose your own cure
And let a good melody help you endure.
Just sing your heart out, out of range of the ghouls,
For songs are survival’s most critical tools.
______________________

MPAA rating: R

What a weird, catchy, sad, gruesome, delightful movie! I’m sure it was an interesting pitch when someone first described the plot of Anna and the Apocalypse, a Christmas musical zombie film that manages to nail all three aspects of its split personality. I normally shy away from zombie movies, but the prospect of an original musical convinced me to give this unique mish-mash a try.

Due to my aversion to gore, I’m always very wary of the zombie genre, yet I know it can be done exceptionally well (Train to Busan and Gakkou Gurashi are two prime examples), so I wanted to give Anna and the Apocalypse a chance. Unsurprisingly, it had the inventive undead bloodshed so common to the genre and so off-putting to me, yet I must admit I loved just about everything else about this British experiment.

It starts out so innocent with its high school setting and teenage misfits and then veers into zombie action and some surprisingly touching moments by the end. And through it all is the magic of song and dance, at first fitting in a High School Musical sort of way and later used as an ironic contrast to the zombie apocalypse. And the music, courtesy of Scottish artists Roddy Hart and Tommy Reilly, is actually darn good! I wouldn’t have been surprised if it came from a Broadway musical or showed up on the radio, yet the fact that it’s all original gives me pure delight.

Putting aside the feeling that I’ve seen versions of all of these characters in other movies many times before, the entire cast of mostly unknowns give their all, instilling a fresh and likable energy to their roles. Ella Hunt is especially good as the wistful Anna, whose zombie-killing weapon of choice is a giant candy cane, and Paul Kaye is a downright ham as the school’s power-mad vice principal. Despite the initial poking fun at how juvenile high-schoolers might actually react to zombies, the whole cast later prove their acting chops as things get more dire. And while dire is to be expected from a movie with Apocalypse in the title, it also sadly saps some of the earlier fun away. Not everyone I wanted to live does, and the half-hopeful ending can’t disguise the inescapable bleakness that almost always accompanies a zombie outbreak. One of the songs even says, “There’s no such thing as a Hollywood ending.”

So Anna and the Apocalypse left me with a strange mix of admiration and indecision. The musical numbers are a blast, and, while I wish I could say I loved every minute of it, I enjoyed far more minutes of it than I ever thought I would in a zombie film. Every actor is on point, and the audacity of its holiday spirit deserves appreciation, especially when it’s this darn likable. Yet it also earns its R rating with the blood-splattering violence and didn’t leave me with the smile I wore through much of it. Thus, I’m pulling out a ranking I’ve only used once: the Semi-Dishonorable List Runner-Up, which sums up my mixed feelings. I hesitate to recommend it, but if the gore and mixed tone don’t bother you, absolutely seek out this ebullient gem. Minus the violence, it would easily be List-Worthy for me. It will no doubt end up as a cult classic addition to the Christmas horror catalog, among which it certainly has the best soundtrack.Best line: (Mr. Savage, after Lisa asks about her boyfriend’s sick grandmother) “Look around you, Miss Snow. What do you see?”
(Lisa, Anna’s friend) “Um…tables?”
(Mr. Savage) “I see civilization on the edge. And what does civilization do when it finds itself on the edge?”
(Lisa) “We help each other?”
(Mr. Savage) “We prioritize.”

 

Rank: Semi-Dishonorable List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
656 Followers and Counting

 

Teen Spirit (2018)

Tags

Drama, Musical

We all have a dream at some age
And wait for our turn on the stage.
Dreams shy and untrained
Will remain unattained,
But risk and result turn the page.
____________________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

The Fanning sisters are quite the talented pair. Earlier this year, I was an advocate for Dakota Fanning’s Star Trek-themed Please Stand By, and I’ve been awaiting Elle Fanning’s musical drama Teen Spirit since I posted My Top Twelve 2018 Movies I Hope Are Good nearly two years ago. Teen Spirit is essentially Rocky but with a teenage girl and a singing competition. That’s the easiest way to describe it, yet it fills its familiar mold with catchy pop favorites and earnest performances and ends up being better than the sum of its parts.

Violet Valenski (Fanning) is a British girl of Polish descent whose bucolic life on the Isle of Wight offers her little future, but when the televised competition Teen Spirit comes to town looking for contestants, she finds her chance for success, with the help of washed-up former opera star Vlad (Zlatko Buric). Fanning’s performance is subdued, as if she expects nothing from the world, and joy and frustration are keenly felt when success or its opposite come her way. Her relationship with Vlad is an added source of heart as well, Vlad growing into a father figure and seeing her as a chance to contribute to someone else’s dreams, despite his flaws sabotaging his own. (She didn’t have much to do, but it was nice also to see Clara Rugaard, who was so good in this year’s I Am Mother.)

The best part and main draw for me, though, is the music, much of it performed by the talented Fanning herself, making me think it’s only a matter of time before she tries her hand at a solo album. The soundtrack is mostly pop staples, joined by some less widely known songs, including “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn, “Genesis” by Grimes, “Lights” by Ellie Goulding, and a stellar version of Sigrid’s “Don’t Kill My Vibe.” I can’t help but feel that Teen Spirit will serve as something of a time capsule film for the decade’s pop music, the way ‘80s films like Purple Rain and Footloose were.

As I said, there’s little in the plot that hasn’t been seen many times over, from the smile-worthy underdog story to the dangers of celebrity when Violet reaches her potential fifteen minutes of fame. Yet, despite an occasionally slow pace, it’s an example of a tried and true formula proving its feel-good value, and, while this particular film isn’t an awards magnet, it’s a sign that, between this and Please Stand By, it’s only a matter of time before one of the Fanning sisters ends up with an Oscar.

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
656 Followers and Counting

 

Aladdin (2019)

Tags

Action, Disney, Family, Fantasy, Musical, Romance

There once was a popular tale
That viewers would watch without fail.
So Disney said, “Wait,
Let’s remake and update
A classic that never was stale.”
Despite the naysayers
And unanswered prayers,
That’s just what they did for resale.
And we, the civilians,
Still offered them billions
And all the support they entail.
__________________________

MPAA rating: PG

Like so many others, I rolled my eyes when I heard Disney was continuing their trend of recycling their animated hits into live-action by setting their sights on 1992’s Aladdin. Even so, I thought Aladdin at least had plenty of additional story material in the 1001 Arabian Nights to draw from, so it could potentially be not terrible. Even the Internet freakout over Will Smith’s blue CGI genie didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me. (I swear, people judge movie effects far too quickly, whether it’s Alita’s eyes or photorealistic Pokemon, and usually it turns out fine once you get used to it.) So despite Disney’s so-so track record with these films, I guess I was optimistic but not exactly excited about another Aladdin, and now that I’ve seen it, my opinion hasn’t changed much.

The biggest weakness of these live-action remakes is that they repeatedly tread the same ground, replicating entire scenes and musical numbers that were already perfect in the original and cannot help but pale in comparison. It’s why I despised 2017’s Beauty and the Beast, yet Aladdin somehow seems more forgivable and entertaining, even if it does suffer from the same fault. I think the actors help immensely in this regard: Mena Massoud is a spot-on charming Aladdin, sporting great chemistry with Naomi Scott’s equally well cast Jasmine, who now champions some non-subtle feminism. And while Will Smith as Genie is no Robin Williams, he isn’t really trying to be, instead replacing some of the frenetic jokes with more of a hip-hop swagger. Plus, he even gets his own love interest in Jasmine’s handmaid, a welcome addition played by SNL’s Nasim Pedrad.

Director Guy Ritchie doesn’t really bring much of his unique action style to the proceedings, but it’s all still competent, fast-paced, colorful, and just different enough from the original to make you say, “Hey, why didn’t Jafar fool Aladdin by dressing up as a little old crazy man?!” Honestly, Jafar is the main weak point. Marwan Kenzari does fine with the role, playing him with more of an inferiority complex, but he’s missing so many aspects that made Jafar an iconic villain – Jonathan Freeman’s deep voice, the imposing stature, the goatee – and Iago and the snake staff don’t make up the difference to make him particularly memorable. The musical numbers are similarly not quite as vibrant as their animated counterparts (although the effects team did better with “Friend Like Me” than I was expecting), and Jasmine’s added girl power anthem is lovely but awkwardly placed as far as pacing.

It’s hard to judge these movies on their own merits since it’s hard not to compare them to the original, but if the original Aladdin didn’t exist, I think this one would be an amazing and innovative family film. As it is, it’s a pretty entertaining if uninspired family film with a laudable message, which still isn’t a bad thing these days. It’s at least not the kind of remake that does a disservice to the original, and since Disney insists on making more and more of these, that might be the best case scenario.

Best line: (Jafar) “Steal an apple, and you’re a thief. Steal a kingdom, and you’re a statesman.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
653 Followers and Counting

And a very Happy Thanksgiving to all!

 

Version Variations: Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939, 1969)

Tags

Classics, Drama, Meet 'em and Move on, Musical, Romance, Version Variations

A young boy’s mind is a fallow field
With unknown promise yet to yield,
And every word their minds import
Of criticism or support,
Of firm reproof or merely sport,
Contributes to the man revealed
At last when boyhood is cut short.

To nobly tend this field with care,
Since parents can’t be always there,
Requires a person resolute,
Profuse with passion, temper mute,
With love of learning absolute.
Such people tasting praise is rare,
But they produce the finest fruit.
_____________________

MPAA rating of 1939 version:  Not Rated (should be G)
MPAA rating of 1969 version:  G

Those who’ve seen my Top 365 movie list might know that I love Mr. Holland’s Opus.  I’ve just always been drawn to the story of an unassuming teacher finding worth in the service of his students.  I’ve always vaguely known that 1939’s Goodbye, Mr. Chips, based on a 1934 novella, was the original version of such a story, but I’d never gotten around to seeing it. When I then learned it had been remade as a musical in 1969, I figured it would be a prime chance to compare the two in one of my overdue Version Variation posts.

The first Goodbye, Mr. Chips is known as one of the members of the great movie year of 1939, managing to win Robert Donat the Best Actor Oscar over some stiff competition, including Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind. Having seen the winning performance, I can now see why Donat edged out the rest, letting his range of sometimes inscrutable emotions play out with great subtlety as he ages from a fresh-faced new Latin teacher in 1870 to a celebrated educator in 1933, weighed down with all the joys and sorrows of a lifetime. (My VC enjoyed the film a lot, but as a huge Rhett Butler fan, her loyalties still lie with Gable.) Like Mr. Holland, the respect Mr. Chipping ends up with is hard-won, but much of it stems from his marriage to the lovely Kathy Ellis (Greer Garson), whom he meets on a European holiday. I would have loved for Garson’s role to have been longer, but, even with limited screen time, her warm presence successfully brings the prosaic Chipping out of his shell, improving his reputation at the school.

In many ways, Goodbye, Mr. Chips is exactly the kind of movie I like, a film spanning decades wherein one character meets various people and experiences alongside the ebb and flow of time, fostering a sense of fond nostalgia. I particularly liked his run-ins with successive generations of the Colley family, showing how static his life at school is while his students go on to have lives of their own. Mr. Holland’s Opus had some similarities, but whereas that film allowed time for characters to be eventually remembered, the turnaround in Goodbye, Mr. Chips is sometimes too fast, introducing a character only for us to learn what happened to them years later in a few minutes’ time. Ultimately, Goodbye, Mr. Chips is well-deserving of its classic status, and while there’s no danger of it supplanting my preference for Mr. Holland’s Opus, it was wonderful seeing a forerunner of a story I’ve come to love.

And then there’s the 1969 remake with Peter O’Toole and Petula Clark, which fits into the not-so-modern sentiment that remakes hardly ever match the original. There’s nothing wrong with making it a musical, allowing the songs to mainly serve as interior monologues, but the songs are largely forgettable, except for a couple clever lyrics, and O’Toole just isn’t much of a singer, trying out the Rex Harrison method of talk-singing but less successfully.

The plot has the same basic elements: Chipping is a somewhat unpopular Latin teacher at a boys’ school who meets and marries a girl named Katherine (Clark) and eventually becomes a mainstay of the institution. There are still the lines of boys sounding off their attendance and a very similar ending, but the filmmakers made significant plot changes elsewhere. For one, the time period is moved up, no longer starting in the 1800s but in the 1920s with Chipping already an established teacher; thus, the war he experiences is World War II rather than World War I.

The worst change, though, is that Katherine is no longer a cycling suffragette Chips meets on a mountain but a music hall singer with an unsavory past, and their formerly brief courtship takes up the entire first half of the film, which also features an intermission to pad out its greater length. There’s pushback against their marriage where there was none before, along with Roaring ’20s parties and O’Toole’s wife-at-the-time Siân Phillips as an annoying socialite. I know I said that I wished Chipping’s wife was in the original more, but I was referring to Greer Garson’s version; the writers of the remake essentially rewrote her whole character, and while Petula Clark was great in the role, it was such a weirdly unnecessary change from the original.

Even so, the latter half (or really third) of the film is much more similar to the first film and is better for it. O’Toole and Clark do well with their roles (O’Toole even got an Oscar nomination and won a Golden Globe), although O’Toole’s Chipping is slightly more stiff and crotchety, even in scenes supposed to be romantic. The film overall was solid enough, but, as with so many remakes, it just doesn’t compare with the original.

I guess films about long-suffering teachers who touch the lives of their students just naturally appeal to me, and Goodbye, Mr. Chips, whatever the incarnation, fits that mold. The original is clearly the better of the two, though, and certainly the one I’d recommend first. While the scene wasn’t in the 1939 movie, I couldn’t help but recall Mr. Holland’s Opus when the second film’s Kathy organizes a school musical with the students, which made me wonder how much either version of Goodbye, Mr. Chips really inspired the 1995 film. They’re so different in setting and character, and yet so similar in theme, particularly in their final heartwarming sentiments (see below). I suppose that’s what speaks to me most of all.

Best line (from 1939 film but something similar in both): (Mr. “Chips”) “I thought I heard you saying it was a pity… pity I never had any children. But you’re wrong. I have… thousands of them, thousands of them… and all boys.”

 

Rank of 1939 version:  List Runner-Up

Rank of 1969 version:  Honorable Mention

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
646 Followers and Counting

 

2019 Blindspot Pick #6: Amadeus (1984)

Tags

Biopic, Drama, History, Musical

How must it be to be a genius,
Masterpieces to be mined
In the mind,
Unrefined,
And so gradually defined
In an act of new creation
Not unlike how God designed?

Oh, to birth such instant classics,
Such a rare, eternal prize!
Oh, what highs
In human eyes,
We crave as we mythologize,
And what despair we suffer when
Our limits cut us down to size.

Comparisons are no avail
If we’re defined by how we fail.
______________________

MPAA rating: PG for the original, R for the Director’s Cut, due to brief language and nudity

For me, Amadeus is the perfect candidate for a Blindspot pick. I’ve been putting it off for far too long, even getting it from the library a while ago and letting it sit around until I had to return it. On top of that, I kept being reminded of it; the recent anime Steins;Gate 0 had an AI called Amadeus and explicitly referenced the rivalry between Mozart and Salieri, and I also just rediscovered the classic ‘80s tune “Rock Me Amadeus” by Falco, inspired by this film. I even got a recent Final Jeopardy question wrong because I didn’t realize Amadeus was based on a play, making it perfect for MovieRob’s Genre Grandeur this month as well. Thus, at long last, it seemed only right to watch the Best Picture of 1984, since I was clearly being pointed toward it.

Winner of eight Oscars, Amadeus is a powerhouse for both acting and music. For his role of Salieri, F. Murray Abraham deservingly won the Oscar for Best Actor, ironically defeating Tom Hulce as his unwitting rival Mozart. Salieri is a tortured soul, deranged and aged far past his prime when the film opens in 1823, and tells a priest of how his classical musical career was overshadowed by the flippant but undeniable talent of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Hulce portrays Mozart as a frivolous man-child, a “creature” as Salieri refers to him, whose high-pitched laugh grows increasingly annoying, yet the elder composer recognizes Mozart’s gift and blames God for leaving Salieri so comparatively untalented. Both performances are brilliantly nuanced, especially by the tragic end, but the Academy chose right that year.

Yet the music is just as much a character as the dueling composers. As Salieri points out early on, everyone recognizes Mozart’s best work, and his best work is put on full display, with even extended stage performances from opera like The Magic Flute and Don Giovanni. (I watched Milos Forman’s Director’s Cut.) Lovers of classical music will revel in the score, but even non-fans will likely appreciate watching the inception of masterpieces that have stood the test of time.

While I recognize the film as a magnum opus for everyone involved, there’s something that bugs me and keeps it from ranking among my favorites. It may seem shallow or unsympathetic, but as I watched Salieri spiral into a tortured wretch of envy, cursing God for giving Mozart the talent he craved for himself, I just wanted to slap him and say “Get over it!” It’s drama, and I know such unbridled jealousy does happen, but I hate when people compare themselves to others because no matter how good you are at anything, there will always be someone better. Salieri had a high-profile position, money, and respect, and instead of viewing Mozart as a colleague, however vulgar he may have been, he made him the source of an inferiority complex, ultimately contributing to his ruin, for which Salieri received nothing but guilt. He may have blamed God, but the fault was his own. It’s a marvelously complicated portrayal of destructive envy that nonetheless frustrated me almost as much as Mozart’s laugh.

Looking back, 1984 was undoubtedly one of the big movie years in history, and it says a lot that Amadeus was able to sweep the Oscars that year, winning Best Picture, Actor, Director, Adapted Screenplay, Art Direction, Costume Design, Makeup, and Sound. Impeccably mounted in its 18^th/19^th-century setting, it’s an overly long but outstanding period piece conveying a historic rivalry that, while fictionalized, still resonates.

Best line: (Salieri) “All I wanted was to sing to God. He gave me that longing… and then made me mute. Why? Tell me that. If He didn’t want me to praise Him with music, why implant the desire, like a lust in my body, and then deny me the talent?”

 

Rank:  List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
642 Followers and Counting

 

Mary Poppins Returns (2018)

Tags

Disney, Family, Fantasy, Musical

They say that you cannot return to the days
When the world held the awe it no longer displays.
The people and scenes are no more in their prime,
And you aren’t the you that you were at the time.
The flavors and sounds may be echoing still,
But the farther you get, the more gone is the thrill.

The memory seals them away as in glass,
Preserving their pricelessness as the years pass.
And even as foolish modernity tries
Revisiting heirlooms to revitalize,
Nostalgia may warrant a smile and sigh
At the echoes that fade but are sure not to die.
_______________________

MPAA rating: PG

There are some movies that shouldn’t be touched by Hollywood’s incessant need to remake its old classics, not necessarily because the originals are better by default, but because there’s no way they can compete with a film that was, is, and always will be a classic. I thought for sure that Mary Poppins was one of those movies, but Disney had other ideas. What they delivered in Mary Poppins Returns is as close as the modern day can come to the old-school style that created its predecessor, but try as it might, there’s just something missing.

Julie Andrews is irreplaceable, but when I heard Emily Blunt was to play Poppins, I figured she had the best chance of anyone to fill her shoes. And in many ways, she does, right from the moment she floats in on the end of a kite flown by one of Michael Banks’s children. Michael (Ben Whishaw) is all grown up now, a widower still reeling from the loss of his wife and struggling to hold onto the family home. Despite his and Jane’s (Emily Mortimer) best efforts, Michael’s three largely responsible kids are in need of some comfort and whimsy, and thus Mary Poppins steps in, perhaps a bit more smile-prone than before but close to the way they/we all remember her.

Mary Poppins Returns is a lot like Star Wars: The Force Awakens in its faithful adherence to the original (some might say too faithful). It follows the general plot of its forerunner to a tee, the same character types, the same sequence of events. Instead of jumping into a chalk drawing, they spin into a cracked ceramic bowl for another semi-animated holiday; instead of floating with Mary’s Uncle Albert, they turn upside-down with her cousin Topsy (Meryl Streep). In place of Dick Van Dyke’s chimney sweep Bert, there’s Lin-Manuel Miranda as lamplighter Jack, doing an excellent job at being casually charming. There are differences, of course, such as the presence of a genuine villain in Colin Firth’s bank president, but sticking so close to the original formula just begs for direct comparison, and Mary Poppins Returns just doesn’t quite match the first.

Yet it’s so close to the spirit of the original that I can’t help but wonder how much the original relies on nostalgia. Mary Poppins is an incomparable, wholesome family movie, but I am surprised at times to think that Julie Andrews won her Oscar for it rather than The Sound of Music. Its plot is loose and episodic, so I can’t criticize the sequel for being the same. I knew my VC, as a staunch fan of the first film, would have the hardest time accepting Mary Poppins Returns, and while she gave it a good try and liked the beginning, she essentially checked out when it no longer conformed to her idea of what Mary Poppins should be.

At one point in the entertaining segment with animation, Mary gets up on stage to perform with Jack and sings some slightly risqué lyrics. My VC immediately thought, “Mary Poppins would never do that,” and the facsimiled magic was broken. That’s why revisiting such classics is so potentially treacherous; while original content is subject to the creator’s whims, sequels and remakes depend on the audience’s. The same happened with The Last Jedi and the whole “not my Luke” debacle; I loved the film but couldn’t deny all of its criticisms. As with Mary Poppins Returns, it’s simply a matter of whether it bothers you or not.

It probably sounds like I didn’t like Mary Poppins Returns, but I did, just not as much as its classic forebear. The music and choreography aren’t as memorable, and by the two-thirds mark, it was bordering on boring, making me think it could have benefited from a shorter runtime than 130 minutes. Yet it has an old-school charm, evident in both the vintage streets of live-action London and the small but welcome return of some 2D Disney animation. In many ways, I’m just glad that movies like this can still be made today and perhaps capture the hearts and future nostalgia of another generation. It at least does no harm to the legacy and spirit of the original and, especially toward the end, comes closer than I ever thought a modern-made Mary Poppins sequel could come.

Best line: (Mary Poppins, singing) “Nothing’s gone forever, only out of place.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
633 Followers and Counting

 

2019 Blindspot Pick #3: Dancer in the Dark (2000)

Tags

Drama, Musical

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a list poem, so, based on this film, I wrote a list of things that make my heart ache. Try singing it to the tune of “My Favorite Things,” which was used in the movie.)

Signs that the world is a heinous taskmaster,
Questions with answers unfair to the asker,
Innocence tainted by lack of concern:
These are the lessons it pains me to learn.

Optimists dashed and brought low for their dreaming,
Bitterness tinged by a sweetness redeeming,
Love too naïve to be wary of hate,
Promises broken or kept far too late,

When the dog dies,
When the tale ends,
When I need to grieve,
My broken heart summons the tears as it mends,
For they never truly leave.
_____________________

MPAA rating: R (more for intensity, what’s shown is closer to PG-13)

Due to his reputation for controversy, I’ve never been eager to watch the films of Lars von Trier. Yet I’ve been long curious about Dancer in the Dark, and my Blindspot series seemed like a prime chance to find out how a musical could also be considered among the most depressing movies of all time. I have a finicky regard for unapologetic downers. I love Grave of the Fireflies and The Elephant Man dearly, yet I can’t stand something like Seize the Day or The Hours. It depends on the film and the person whether it has the desired effect, and Dancer in the Dark hit me harder than I was expecting.

I only knew of Icelandic singer Bjork for her strange style of singing, but she proves to be perfect for the role of a Czech immigrant mother struggling to provide her son with a better life. Having settled in Washington State in the 1960s, Selma Jezkova works hard in a factory with her friend Kathy (Catherine Deneuve), rents a trailer from a kind couple (David Morse, Cara Seymour), practices for a small stage production of The Sound of Music, and is slowly going blind. She’s been saving up for an operation so that her son need not bear the same affliction, which begins to impede her daily life.

Throughout the first half, the film gives every reason to love these characters, everyone sympathetic and helpful to Selma, including a would-be suitor she rebuffs (Peter Stormare). I could relate to Selma’s love of musicals and admired her commitment to her son, even if her stubbornness got in the way sometimes. Then, by believable but heartbreaking measures, one character’s selfishness and self-loathing become destructive and ruin everything that Selma has built.

Dancer in the Dark is not the kind of film I would expect to like, choppily edited and shot with a grainy, hand-held camera in a style that is apparently part of a semi-genre/movement called Dogme 95, which von Trier helped to establish. It’s an odd mixture when this style focused on realism suddenly shifts into the magical realism of Selma’s daydreams, musical segments where the sounds she hears become rhythmic as the colors brighten and friends and bystanders break into choreography.

It’s not shot like a typical musical, nor are the songs instantly catchy like something from Broadway. Bjork’s singing is even distracting at times, making the lyrics hard to understand. Yet it’s more about the feelings the songs create, and they strike deep. One revels in Selma’s love of musicals, even as it betrays her. After a horrific event, one song plays out the way Selma surely wishes it could go under better circumstances. Again, it’s a strange juxtaposition, but it works, in a way I can only compare to how humor was mixed with tragedy in Life Is Beautiful.

The leadup to the tragic climax is probably strung out too much, but Dancer in the Dark left me haunted as few films do, and while some critics have dismissed it as shameless melodrama, it earns its heartbreak in my book. While it’s not a perfect comparison, since Selma actually commits a crime, the way the world turns on her brought to my mind the trial and suffering of Christ, a parallel strengthened by Selma’s line about her son’s operation, that it would be known “that he was paid for.”

With strong supporting work from Deneuve, Morse, and Siobhan Fallon (even a cameo from Joel Grey), Dancer in the Dark proved to be an acting powerhouse thanks to Bjork herself, who staggeringly was passed over for an Oscar nomination despite winning Best Actress at Cannes. She and the film itself may be an acquired taste and a bitter one at that, but their power is undeniable.

Best line:  (Bill Houston) “I love the movies. I just love the musicals.”
(Selma) “But isn’t it annoying when they do the last song in the films?”
(Bill) “Why?”
(Selma) “Because you just know when it goes really big… and the camera goes like out of the roof… and you just know it’s going to end. I hate that. I would leave just after the next to last song… and the film would just go on forever.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
621 Followers and Counting

 

Into the Woods (2014)

Tags

Disney, Drama, Fantasy, Musical

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a villanelle, a special form with alternating repeated lines as below, and the prompt suggested incorporating someone else’s words. The repeated lines I used are drawn from the musical Into the Woods, along with part of the theme.)

Careful the tale you tell,
For tales are not words but adventures and fates;
All stories cast a spell.

They conjure the best and worst places to dwell,
And leave you in clouds or burdened by weights.
Careful the tale you tell.

Emotions on strings as they rise and repel
Are pulled by the magic that fiction creates.
All stories cast a spell.

No louche Casanova, no wish from a well
Has broken more hearts or honored more dates.
Careful the tale you tell.

Each one is a world and a ceiling-less cell,
Where soon-to-be-friends and a new home awaits.
All stories cast a spell.

When fantasy finally bids you farewell,
How do you feel as the world deviates?
Careful the tale you tell;
All stories cast a spell.
______________________

MPAA rating:  PG

Those familiar with this blog might already know that I’m a huge fan of musicals. While others roll their eyes or cringe at all-sung films like Les Miserables, I love it. There’s something about the combination of song, lyric, dance, and story that I find particularly appealing and entertaining. However, not all musicals are equal, and all four (sometimes three minus dance) of those ingredients have to be on point for the magic to work. Into the Woods comes so close to nailing them all, yet by the end, I could only wonder what went wrong.

Based on Stephen Sondheim’s popular musical, which is just as old as The Phantom of the Opera, Into the Woods weaves multiple fairy tale stories together: Little Red Riding Hood, Jack and the Beanstalk, Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), Rapunzel, and an original connecting tale of a Baker (James Corden) and his Wife (Emily Blunt) seeking out spell ingredients for a desperate Witch (Meryl Streep). The way the stories blend together and overlap, playing out in familiar ways with unexpected connections, is a joy to watch, especially with hammy but committed performances from Johnny Depp, Chris Pine, and Streep (who shockingly got an Oscar nomination; she’s good, but this is probably her least deserving role).

It’s a highly enjoyable movie, or rather two-thirds of a movie, because at a certain point, it’s just…ruined. At a happy moment that could have ended the film well, the story suddenly takes a left turn into disaster and tragedy and shattered reputations. It’s a dark move, which is apparently even darker in the stage version, and it saps most of the enjoyment from the film as a whole.

Even if none of the songs are instant classics likely to live long in the memory, the music is the saving grace of Into the Woods. My VC thought the tunes were a bit too repetitious, lacking the complexity or vocal range of Phantom or Les Mis, but, as a poet, I especially admired the clever lyrics and rhymes. It has outstanding production values and strong performances too, but in its effort to offer a darkly unsatisfying take on beloved stories, this fractured fairy tale proves to be a failed musical in my book. My VC and I agree that we would recommend the first two thirds; just bail when the tale goes to pot.

Best line: (the Baker’s Wife) “Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one – But if life were only moments, then you’d never know you had one.”

 

Rank:  Dishonorable Mention

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
619 Followers and Counting

 

A Star Is Born (2018)

Tags

Drama, Musical, Romance

When tragedies have run their course,
Demanding pity and remorse,
It’s easy wondering if they
Could end up any other way,
The fruit of foolishness and force.

Yet tragedies are not complete
Without some happiness’ retreat.
Contentment grief could not erase,
However brief, once offered grace
To take the bitter with the sweet.

The stars will fall one mournful night,
But only once they shed their light.
Those basking in it aren’t aware
Of pain that stars refuse to share,
Yet when they shine, oh, what a sight!
______________________

MPAA rating: R (for very frequent language and brief nudity)

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to write or review much recently, not only because of Thanksgiving but because of the increasing demands of school. That will probably only get worse over the next two months (sorry!), but I wanted to make time for the latest version of A Star Is Born. Nearly two years ago, I did a Version Variations post comparing the three former incarnations of A Star Is Born – the 1937 original, the 1954 Judy Garland musical, and the 1976 Barbra Streisand musical – and I couldn’t help but notice the huge surge in views that post got when Bradley Cooper’s latest film hit theaters. Back then, I made a fleeting reference to another version in the works, and at last here it is, a heavy-hitting Oscar contender that deserves the same appraisal as its forerunners.

Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga have been rightly lauded for this modern retelling of a decades-old story. It’s likely familiar to many: A big star discovers a budding talent, falls in love, and helps her own ascent to the top while crashing pitifully into drunken disgrace. In addition to producing and directing, Cooper plays Jackson Maine, the big name in country rock who is taken with an unknown singer named Ally (Lady Gaga) and whisks her into the limelight.

Cooper is almost unrecognizable next to previous roles like Silver Linings Playbook, bearded, singing admirably, and boasting a much deeper voice than usual, one that still doesn’t quite match that of Sam Elliott as his older brother/manager. By the time Ally reaches stardom, it’s easy to see why Cooper insisted on Lady Gaga’s casting, but she delivers more than just her distinctive voice, nailing the dramatic moments just as well as more established actresses. Stripped of her famously absurd costumes and style, it’s easier to see why she’s such a star, and it’s an interesting reversal that Ally balks at the prospect of being forced into changing her hair and adding background dancers, lest she lose herself in celebrity.

One of my coworkers wasn’t a fan of the characterization of the two leads, but I think most view the acting as close to beyond reproach, which is why Cooper and Gaga are both Oscar favorites at the moment, not unlike the main stars of the 1937 and 1954 versions. Likewise, the soundtrack is outstanding, with a blend of rockabilly and pop, headbangers and heartfelt elegies, that made me wonder which one might nab Best Original Song, since I could see most of them being worthy. (I will say that I think the 1976 film still has a more memorable soundtrack, but that might be due to my personal preferences.)

How then does this 2018 version compare with what came before? The story at its heart and conclusion is still the same, but this incarnation might have the least in common with its predecessors. The other versions (especially the 1954 one) had some scenes that were directly plucked from the one before, while the one constant that carries over into the latest version is the awards embarrassment, where Maine’s flaws are made painfully public at the Grammys. I suppose its rock ‘n’ roll context and final scene are closest in spirit to the 1976 Streisand version, but Cooper did a fine job at making this story his own.

That being said, it’s not above criticism. I personally think that the “meet-cute” between Jackson and Ally, which happens in a drag bar before they head out to a grocery store parking lot, is the weakest of the four. There’s clearly chemistry, but when Ally starts singing an impromptu song supposedly on the fly, I didn’t really buy it.

Luckily, the plot improves as it goes, putting some of the strongest scenes of any version in the second half. Jackson himself amid his addiction is especially portrayed well, particularly a heart-wrenching scene where he genuinely apologizes to Ally for embarrassing her. The 1976 version left me uncertain whether Kris Kristofferson’s character really loved Streisand’s, especially since it’s still the only version where he cheats on her; Cooper fixes that problem, painting Maine more clearly as a tragic failure of good intentions corrupted by substance abuse. The other versions were certainly sad, but Cooper’s truly embraces the story’s potential as a tearjerker.

As to be expected from an R-rated Oscar contender, the biggest problem I had with A Star Is Born is the nearly constant profanity. I know the F-word is getting more pervasive in today’s culture by the day, but when the script includes over a hundred of them, it just feels like a lazy placeholder word, ultimately without meaning. To be honest, it’s more annoying than offensive, especially when it’s hard to imagine how it could ever be cut enough to be shown on normal TV.

After much deliberation, I think I would rank this A Star Is Born second among the four, and not just because of the language complaint. The 1937 version remains the best in my opinion, thanks to its insightful script. (Plus, I love that Grandma Lettie!) Cooper’s version proves that there is still life in this story, especially when delivered with nuance and brilliant performances. It also disproves the law of diminishing returns with this tale being remade every few decades, making me wonder what the next remake thirty years from now might look like.

Best line: (Bobby,  Jackson’s half-brother) “Jack talked about how music is essentially twelve notes between any octave. Twelve notes, and the octave repeats. It’s the same story told over and over, forever. All any artist can offer the world is how they see those twelve notes. That’s it. He loved how you see them.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2018 S.G. Liput
594 Followers and Counting