Avatar (2009)

Tags

Action, Drama, Romance, Sci-fi

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write something inspired by a dream’s imagery. Since I don’t remember most of my dreams, I incorporated a more general theme of dreaming that tied in with today’s movie.)

My eyelids are a diving board,
And when they close, I leap
To worlds no other human’s seen
In waking or in sleep,
Ephemeral new universes
Born of counted sheep.

I fly on wings of opal skin
And climb inverted mountaintops.
I live a life that’s not my own
And wait until my bubble pops.
I test the limits of a dream
And hope to God it never stops.
______________________

MPAA rating: PG-13

Considering Avatar was the biggest movie ever for a time, this review is probably long overdue. I suppose the reason it took so long was simply because I considered it vastly overrated. I remember making a point of watching it before I started my Top 365 list back in 2014, just to check whether it deserved placement. It didn’t make the cut. That’s not to say James Cameron’s monster hit is bad; it’s an impressive sci-fi epic with a brilliantly rendered world held back by a painfully unoriginal plot.

In 2154, mankind has reached out into space and formed a colony on the distant moon of Pandora, where their mining endeavors run into conflict with the big, blue native Na’vi. In an effort to connect with the aliens and convince them to move, scientists have created Na’vi-human hybrids called Avatars, which a human consciousness can control while their real body sleeps. Jake Sully is one such candidate, a paraplegic Marine who is only brought to Pandora because he shares DNA with his dead brother and can control his brother’s Avatar. There, he forms a bond with the fierce Neytiri and the other Na’vi and must choose between the nature-centric natives and the unsympathetic military.

Not to be confused with the beloved Nickelodeon cartoon, the film Avatar can be summed up in various ways, but my favorites are Pocahontas with blue aliens or Dances with Wolves in space. My VC noted FernGully as another clear inspiration. The whole nature vs. industry/natives vs. military conflict has clearly been done before, and there’s nothing about the overlong plotline or the romance that makes it any better than those other two films. James Cameron’s New Age, environmental sentiments are worn on the film’s sleeve, and it’s anything but subtle. And honestly, Sam Waterston is rather bland as the main character, though I enjoyed Sigourney Weaver’s scientist and Stephen Lang’s macho villain (Lost alert for Michelle Rodriguez as well).

What Avatar does have going for it are its groundbreaking motion capture and 3D special effects, which leave no doubt why it won Oscars for Art Direction, Visual Effects, and Cinematography. The flora and fauna of Pandora are full of colorful, eye-popping wonders, and the scenes of flight after Jake tames a dragon-like creature are exhilarating as he swoops between gravity-defying midair mountains. And the epic battle scene at the end is one of the biggest, most awesome action sequences ever made. Plus, James Horner’s score adds a perfect majesty to the visuals. If only the story had the same imaginative effort as the rest….

Avatar is a well-made sci-fi adventure that isn’t the transcendent blockbuster it tries to be, even if its box office haul says otherwise. I was glad when Avengers: Endgame passed it as the highest-grossing film of all time (not adjusted for inflation), simply because that record and Avatar’s Best Picture nomination indicates that it’s better than it is, which irks me a little. Perhaps it just doesn’t feel as innovative now as it was in 2009. Even so, I’m interested to see what the repeatedly delayed sequels will do to continue the story and how certain characters will return for another three films. Perhaps they’ll avoid clichés better than Cameron’s first film… whenever they finally come out.

Best line: (Jake, narrating) “I was a warrior who dreamed he could bring peace. Sooner or later, though, you always wake up.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
675 Followers and Counting

Ride Your Wave (2019)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy, Romance, Sports

(For Day 1 of NaPoWriMo, the prompt was for a metaphor poem comparing life to a particular action, so I took inspiration from a movie that heavily focused on a similar metaphor of surfing.)

 

I live upon a wooden board
That glides along the ocean swell.
So many others stood and fell,
So on my belly, safe I dwell.

My wiping out I can’t afford,
And so I hug the firm and known,
And watch the few whose comfort zone
Is so much wider than my own.

They call to me with one accord
To stand within the arching wave,
And though I fear it, still I crave
The confidence of being brave.

I close my eyes and let my board
Convey me to the tunneled tide
And find the worries, from inside,
Have dwindled down and liquefied.
_______________________

MPA rating: Not Rated (should be PG-13, for some adult themes and brief nudity)

I love that the last two years, I’ve been surprised by anime films I wasn’t expecting. Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms proved to be the anime of the year in 2018, and Masaaki Yuasa’s Ride Your Wave was a similar pleasant surprise, considering I’d never heard of it until a preview before Weathering with You. Star-crossed love is a common anime trope, but Ride Your Wave puts a uniquely emotional spin on it, also standing out for its characters being young adults rather than the usual highschoolers.

Hinako Mukaimizu has just moved into a new apartment near the ocean, allowing her to regularly partake in her favorite hobby of surfing. After a fire threatens her building, she falls in love with handsome firefighter Minato Hinageshi, and their romance is wholesomely reminiscent of the beginning of Up. And like Up, it ends in tragedy, leaving Hinako alone and unable to move on. Soon, though, she begins seeing Minato in water when she sings their favorite song, leading to hilarious misunderstandings and an unhealthy situation that clearly cannot stay the way it is.

I’ve tended to steer clear of Yuasa’s other works (like Lu Over the Wall or The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl), perhaps because his unique art style didn’t seem to appeal to me, but I must admit that I loved Ride Your Wave, and it’s made me curious to check out his past work. His hyper-fluid animation really complements the prevalence of water in the film and creates some unique angles and perspectives to ravish the eye. It’s a more cartoon-ish style than Makoto Shinkai’s photorealistic scenes, but it’s still detailed and pleasing in its own way. (It’s interesting to note the coincidence of this film and Weathering with You both coming out the same year and both featuring an emphasis on water and a notable scene with fireworks.)

Beyond the technical, Ride Your Wave has real heart to it and does a great job developing its central couple, as well as side characters like Minato’s churlish younger sister. And that focus on likable characters is essential because there’s certainly absurdity to swallow here, such as Hinako walking around town with an inflatable porpoise filled with water (and Minato) in an effort to relive the days when Minato was still alive. The climax is wilder than that, so let’s just say it’s hard to imagine this film in anything but animation. It didn’t hit me until afterward, but the plot has many similarities to 1990’s Ghost, though with more of a rom-com sensibility than that film’s thriller elements. By the end, though, it definitely knows how to tap the emotions hard, even while retaining a sense of hope.

Since I can’t be all positive, Ride Your Wave is sometimes too on the nose with its blatant metaphor of learning to “ride the wave” of life. Plus, at only 94 minutes, the film’s relationships might feel too rushed to some, yet one could also say it presents what it needs to economically. I feel like Weathering with You is objectively a better film, yet Ride Your Wave made me feel more deeply, identifying at times with its exploration of grief. Yuasa’s blending of the poignant and the surreal is an unexpected treat for any fan of bittersweet romance.

Best line: (Minato) “If you stay with your head underwater, you’ll never learn to ride the waves.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
670 Followers and Counting

Weathering with You (2019)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy, Romance

The greatest threats and greatest wonders have their source within the sky,
Tornados with their whistle cry
And rainbows ere the air is dry,
Yet next to you, the marvels there have barely even caught my eye.

The storm can crash, the thunder clap, attempting to arrest my view,
But, whether sky be black or blue,
The sun will part the clouds on cue.
The rain will never fall as hard as I have fallen now for you.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG-13 (for peril and brief nudity)

Weathering with You was #4 on last year’s list of My Top Twelve 2019 Movies I Hope Are Good, so it killed me that I had to wait until 2020 to finally see it in the theater. Makoto Shinkai had one of the toughest directorial challenges of the year, creating a follow-up to Your Name, which is still the highest-grossing anime of all time. How could Weathering with You possibly match Shinkai’s last emotional, artful powerhouse? Well, it doesn’t quite, but, boy, does it comes closer than I would have thought possible, leaving little doubt that Shinkai is in a class of his own when it comes to anime.

Shinkai’s films have been notable for their amazingly detailed depiction of rain, in The Garden of Words especially, and Weathering with You fits perfectly in his oeuvre as the most rain-centric film yet. Hodaka is a teenage runaway, fleeing to the bustling metropolis of Tokyo with little plan and finding himself homeless in the midst of an extended rainstorm. After finding employment with a small-time tabloid publisher, Hodaka investigates the legend of the “weather maiden” (or “sunshine girl” in the very good English dub), someone whose prayers can part the clouds and bring out the sun once more. He finds her in Hina, a girl who helped him when he was struggling, and together they turn her ability into a business, clearing the weather for events. However, Hodaka’s past and the secret behind Hina’s ability threaten them both and possibly the world as well.

As with all of Shinkai’s work, the hand-drawn visuals in Weathering with You are absolutely gorgeous, with an attention to detail that puts most other 2D animation to shame. One sequence of fireworks is awe-inspiring. Likewise, anyone who enjoyed the soundtrack of Your Name, provided by the Japanese band RADWIMPS, will be pleased at their second team-up for a Shinkai project. I’m now used to the director’s music-video-like interludes that felt a bit jarring in Your Name, and they serve to highlight the songs, which in turn complement the visuals. It’s a common conceit in anime openings for characters to be shown falling through the sky, often for no apparent reason; Weathering with You not only gives a good reason but makes the scene a brilliant climax of emotion and, backed by the song “Grand Escape,” gave me genuine goose bumps.

Animation isn’t everything, though, right? There has to be a good story and likable characters as well, and Shinkai provides those too. Hodaka and Hina aren’t quite on the same level of star-crossed YA lovers as Taki and Mitsuha in Your Name, but they’re still a cute pair worth rooting for, while the rest of the cast are enjoyably colorful as well, from Hina’s Casanova younger brother to Hodaka’s pragmatic employer. The plot does borrow some elements from Your Name – desperate running, a climactic reunion, a sudden separation that doesn’t hit quite as hard this time, a supernatural cause based in Shintoism that isn’t explained as well as I’d like – yet it’s far from a lazy copy, more like a director in his thematic comfort zone. Shinkai has stated that the story was influenced by climate change fears, which are evident by the end even if the point being made about it isn’t exactly clear, but it’s interesting and gratifying how his characters make a case for the value of the individual over collective concerns, which he thought might be controversial.

Weathering with You’s biggest problem is that it will inevitably be compared to Your Name, and it’s true that it would probably be even more impressive than it is if it hadn’t been preceded by a record-smashing older brother. (Granted, Shinkai does lean into the comparison at times, like a wink to the fans, which made me and my fellow theater-goers giddy.) Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed Weathering with You and highly recommend it, even to non-anime fans. After Your Name was spurned for a Best Animated Feature nomination at the Oscars three years ago, it’s a similar travesty that Weathering with You was also unjustly overlooked. It may be Shinkai’s third best film in my estimation, but with charming characters, stunning animation, impactful music, and a poignant story, it’s further proof of his films’ greatest strengths.

Best line: (Hodaka, to Hina) “Who cares if we can’t see any sunshine? I want you more than any blue sky.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
660 Followers and Counting

 

Little Women (2019)

Tags

Drama, Family, Romance

(I may not have been able to review all the Best Picture nominees before the Oscars ceremony tonight, but I assure you they’re all coming down the pipeline.)

Men have always dominated
History and stories told.
In the meantime, women waited
For the day, ordained and fated,
That the whole world could behold
The stories they illuminated.

A new perspective, underrated,
Now has found its own foothold,
Different, same, and liberated,
Making man, a bit belated,
Wonder why he’d undersold
The tales that females had created.
___________________

MPA rating: PG

Confession time: I’ve never seen any of the seven film versions of Little Women, and I’ve only ever read an abridged version. Thus, I had little investment in Greta Gerwig’s latest adaptation of the famed Louisa May Alcott novel, no preconceptions or overly high expectations, and I must say that I found it an absolute delight. Greta Gerwig has cemented herself as one of the foremost female directors working today, and she brings the potentially dated material of a 151-year-old novel to invigorating life.

The little women of the title are, of course, the March sisters, Jo (Saoirse Ronan), Amy (Florence Pugh), Meg (Emma Watson), and Beth (Eliza Scanlan), who gradually mature into womanhood over the span of seven years. Through familial joys and trials, petty disagreements, romantic pursuits, and the chasing of dreams, their stories carry something that everyone can relate to and never lose the sense of semi-autobiographical genuineness. (I always identify with struggling writer characters, so Jo was my favorite of the family.) Gerwig reinvents the plot with nonlinear flashbacks, jumping back and forth and making it sometimes unclear what’s happening when, but it is used effectively in contrasting the story’s happiest moment with its saddest.

In many ways, Little Women feels like the kind of movie Hollywood doesn’t make anymore. As the first PG-rated Best Picture nominee since Hidden Figures in 2016, it was refreshing to watch a completely clean entry in the Oscar race that deserves its place. (Why it was largely snubbed by the Golden Globes, I don’t know.) Its period detail and costumes are impeccable, and every actress is at the top of her game, Ronan especially. The difference of seven years isn’t always convincing, particularly with Watson and Scanlan who always looked the same to me, but Pugh manages to make her maturation the most convincing as her bratty behavior evolves with time.

While I wish I had something to compare it to, it’s hard to imagine another version of Little Women surpassing this one in my eyes. It’s made me want to read the book (a measure of success for any novel adaptation), if only to see how much of the wonderful and insightful dialogue was from the book, or else embellished by Gerwig. The film manages to give voice to more modern feminist sentiments while remaining faithful and old-fashioned in the best way. By the end, it offered a sense of humor, joy, fullness, and satisfaction that few films engender these days. Little Women made me glad that such wholesome films can still be made today, without subversion or dark revisionism, and even if it has been overshadowed by the competition, it deserves every bit of praise.

Best lines: (Meg, to Jo) “Just because my dreams are not the same as yours doesn’t mean they’re unimportant.”

And

(Marmee) “But do you love him?”
(Jo, tearing up) “I know that I care more to be loved. I want to be loved.”
(Marmee) “That is not the same as loving.”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2020 S.G. Liput
659 Followers and Counting

 

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

 

The Majestic (2001)

Tags

Drama, Romance

There are people who thrive in the hustle and bustle
Of populous cities that never slow down.
The traffic and masses sustain like a muscle
That can’t stand the thought of a do-nothing town.

Yet others, like me, prefer tapping the brake.
For us, the slow motion is no handicap.
I’ll visit a city, but home I will make
In a place that’s not easily found on a map.

Such do-nothing places do more than their share,
Preserving the values that all nations need.
We listen and learn more in quieter air;
We merely must slow down enough to take heed.
_______________________

MPAA rating: PG (has occasional language but pretty clean overall)

Why have I not seen this movie sooner? The Majestic has been in my Netflix queue for a while now, but it feels like the kind of movie I should have seen when I was 12, largely clean and with a valuable message that has only gained in social importance. As a fan of The Truman Show, I was mainly curious to see Jim Carrey in another serious role, and, as with the other film, The Majestic ranks among his very best, making it a shame that its poor box office likely turned him and director Frank Darabont away from developing similar movies.

The year is 1951, and Hollywood screenwriter Peter Appleton (Carrey) is dumbfounded when his promising career is stalled by the Second Red Scare, leaving him blacklisted and expected to testify before Congress as a potential Communist. In his despair, he has an accident, waking with amnesia near the small town of Lawson, California. There, he is mistaken for Luke Trimble, the war hero son (thought to be dead) of the local theater owner (Martin Landau), who welcomes his long-lost boy home. Over time, he bonds with the town, grows closer to Luke’s girlfriend Adele (Laurie Holden), and helps breathe life back into the family theater, the Majestic, yet you know it is not meant to last. (I can’t help but mention David Ogden Stiers, whose presence in the small town visited by a humbled would-be hot shot immediately brought to mind the similarity with Doc Hollywood.)

Throughout The Majestic, I was trying to figure out how I felt about it and kept settling on “it depends.” It depends how the lie/mistake is revealed. It depends how all this Communist finger-pointing plays out. I just wasn’t sure where the film would ultimately end up, so I couldn’t decide if I truly liked it or not, wavering on the edge between List-Worthy and List Runner-Up. By the end, though, I was sure. Despite my unease, it definitely stuck the landing. The climax, a culminating speech before the House Un-American Activities Committee clearly echoing Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, is an absolute standout scene, made even more powerful by its extreme timeliness. At a time with so many fingers being pointed and voices being silenced, it’s a cinematic plea for Constitutional truth, tolerance, and patriotism that should be seen by every American.

Frank Darabont was clearly channeling Frank Capra with this movie, and just as Capra’s movies were derided at the time as “Capra-corn,” The Majestic didn’t fly with critics wary of anything remotely sentimental, which is a crying shame. I’ll admit it’s a bit too long and predictable, but it’s also an endorsement of nostalgia, decency, and the magic of movies, with emotional performances and strong direction throughout. It’s modern Capra-corn, and, when it’s done this well, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Best line: (Peter, speaking to Congress) “That’s the First Amendment, Mr. Chairman. It’s everything we’re about if only we’d live up to it! … It’s the most important part of the contract every citizen has with this country. And even though these contracts – the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights! – even though they’re just pieces of paper with signatures on them, they’re the only contracts we have that are most definitely not subject to renegotiation… not by you, Mr. Chairman… not by you, Mr. Clyde… Not by anyone, ever. Too many people have paid for this contract in blood!”

 

Rank: List-Worthy

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
655 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!

 

2019 Blindspot Pick #10: Mr. Nobody (2009)

Tags

Drama, Romance, Sci-fi

This poem is a couplet, a two-liner rhyme,
For readers and poets who haven’t much time.

Or rather it could have been, if I’d decided,
But maybe I’ll make it a villanelle instead.
Which bears repetition by which it is guided.

You ask who would make such a change? Answer: I did.
So this is a villanelle now, as you’ve read,
Or rather it could have been, if I’d decided.

Let’s not be verbose.
A haiku might be better
To save syllables.

But then again, a sonnet I’d allow.
For fourteen lines in length would be provided
If only I would end this poem right now.

So what kind of poem was this one?
All four that I’ve named, or else none?
You can only decide
Once you’ve finished and tried
Looking backward when all’s said and done.
________________________

MPAA rating: R (mostly for sensuality and 2 F-words, seemed closer to a PG-13)

Well, this movie was a trip. I’ve been curious about Mr. Nobody for a while now, based on what I’d read about its unusual nonlinear story, and I can confirm it’s certainly unique. On one level, it’s a mind-bending, provocative tale of the potential directions life can take, which is exactly the kind of story I love, but it also is a bit too abstract for its own good.

The title character is Nemo Nobody (Jared Leto), a man born in 1975 who ends up living till 2094 as the oldest and last mortal in a world that has achieved quasi-immortality through science. Plagued by memory loss, he is interviewed on his deathbed by a tattooed psychiatrist (Allan Corduner) and a journalist (Daniel Mays), both of whom are perplexed by the unusually disparate histories he recounts, lives that split at major crossroads in his life, particularly a train station when he had to choose which divorcing parent to stay with at the age of nine.

To call Mr. Nobody peculiar is an understatement; it’s a full-blown experimental film. It’s amazing to me that such a film was made at all, and even more amazing that it was made three years before Cloud Atlas, which is the closest film I can compare it to in terms of cosmic ambition and madcap editing. Due to Nemo’s ability to see possible futures, it swings back and forth between Nemo’s potential lives: the three women he could marry, the jobs he could have taken, the mistakes and accidents he endures or avoids. Also interspersed are more fantastical detours, such as a future journey to Mars that doubles as a story written by a teenage Nemo and a surreal argyle-themed dream world that may or may not be part of Nemo’s subconscious.

Sometimes, these various storylines seem designed to confuse: The beginning shows bits and pieces of all the timelines in quick succession, like a sneak peek that leads to moments of revelation but is bewildering in the moment. In other cases, it gives a particular story more time to develop emotions, such as a romance between a teenage Nemo (Toby Regbo) and his stepsister Anna (Juno Temple; Diane Kruger as an adult) or the mental illness of one of Nemo’s other wives (Sarah Polley). Most of these timelines end in tragedy, yet others retain a sense of hope that one of Nemo’s decisions could lead to happiness.

At a certain point, the journalist interviewing the 118-year-old Nemo asks what the truth is, since not all of these lives could have happened, and Mr. Nobody’s answer extols the endlessness of possibility without providing a real answer. In that vein, one of Nemo’s professions is as the host of a TV science show, which allows him to ask big cosmic what-if questions that some might consider deep but ultimately boil down to “No one knows,” to the point that they’re almost meaningless, which may excite philosophers but can be frustrating to viewers who desire concrete answers. Plus, there’s uncertainty about whether some timelines are “real” at all, like the Mars mission that doesn’t always seem like something Nemo made up. Likewise, the ending is a strange mix of long-awaited satisfaction, pseudo-science that I at least didn’t fully understand, and a sweet conclusion undercut by a lack of context.

So, while Mr. Nobody frustrated me more, I suppose my final opinion is the same as for Cloud Atlas: a magnificent mess that individual viewers must decide whether it’s a masterpiece or a trainwreck. It certainly never fails to enchant visually, particularly several sequences that depict the butterfly effect (reminding me of similar scenes in Ink and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), and the special effects, cinematography, and Pierre Van Dormael’s score are exceptional. At times, it seems to borrow individual motifs from the likes of Forrest Gump, When Harry Met Sally…, and Harold and Maude, yet all of the ingredients come together to form something wholly distinctive and idiosyncratic, for good or ill. It’s a film like no other, featuring Jared Leto’s best performance I’ve seen and individual scenes I loved, and, though its complexity and length will not be for everyone, it’s an experiment worth experiencing.

Best line: (Nemo Nobody) “At my age the candles cost more than the cake. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid I haven’t been alive enough. It should be written on every school room blackboard: Life is a playground… or nothing.”

 

Rank: List Runner-Up

 

© 2019 S.G. Liput
652 Followers and Counting

 

2019 Blindspot Pick #9: Vertigo (1958)

Tags

Classics, Drama, Hitchcock, Mystery, Romance, Thriller

The birds in flight
May love their height
And laugh at bounded, grounded man,
But gravity
Can guarantee
That staying low’s a better plan.

Some love the thrill,
The view, the will
To see a limit and defy,
Yet none deny
That when you’re high,
It’s so much easier to die.
_____________________

MPAA rating: PG

Vertigo has to be the most critically lauded among my Blindspots this year, and I was quite curious to see whether it would match its reputation, since so many Hitchcock movies have fallen short, for me at least. Vertigo lands somewhere in the middle, confirming my opinion that Hitchcock mostly excelled in creating tension in individual scenes rather than whole movies.

The fourth and last collaboration between Hitchcock and star Jimmy Stewart, Vertigo is a tale of obsession that toys with the possibility of the supernatural. Stewart plays John “Scottie” Ferguson, a cop who retired after a deadly experience with heights but is commissioned by wealthy friend Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore) to investigate Elster’s wife Madeleine (Kim Novak) and her sudden strange behavior. As he learns more about her connection to a suicidal ancestor and develops a relationship with her, he encounters secrets and mysteries that shake him to his core.

As a fan of film, I can say that I am definitively glad to have finally seen this classic of cinema, an oversight that represents exactly what this Blindspot series is meant to solve. Yet it doesn’t hold the same fascination for me that it apparently does for so many. Perhaps it’s because the film’s intrigue was such a rollercoaster. It starts out interesting enough with Stewart as his ever-likable self, but the story really drags during his investigation, which consists of far too much of him wordlessly following Madeleine by car. Maybe it’s just me, but the picture below doesn’t do much for me in the way of tension.

Then comes a famous scene in a bell tower, which is indeed one of Hitchcock’s best for buildup and shock value. Not too much longer, and the reveal of the mystery left my brain working overtime, surprised at the unanticipated twist and giving me a new appreciation for the storyline. Yet what follows becomes a somewhat uncomfortable exercise in obsessive grief (including a weirdly unnecessary psychedelic dream), played out through what would be a deeply unhealthy relationship if not for the audience’s knowledge of its psychological underpinnings. How it ends, while effective, is also anything but satisfying, so abrupt that it made me recall how much I despise the final scenes in North by Northwest and An American Werewolf in London. I know Hitchcock knew how to end a movie, but I wouldn’t know it based on this one.

I certainly can’t fault the actors. Stewart is always good, always, and Kim Novak might be one of my favorites of Hitchcock’s blonde leading ladies. Barbara Bel Geddes is also great as Scottie’s casual friend/former crush, who is short-changed by the ending’s lack of closure. I also liked a cameo by Ellen Corby, who also appeared with Stewart briefly in It’s a Wonderful Life (“Could I have $17.50?”) Likewise, Bernard Herrmann’s hypnotic score is an outstanding accompaniment, and, like the score of Psycho, adds so much to the film’s atmosphere.

All in all, Vertigo is the second best one-word Hitchcock film that ends with an O, as well as the second best Hitchcock film that begins with an injured Jimmy Stewart. Sorry if that doesn’t sound like high praise, though I do appreciate its cinematic contribution of that vertigo effect above. I can see why film enthusiasts like it and why its filming locations around San Francisco have become iconic, and I have half a mind to see it again just to pick up on the hints to the twist that I might have missed the first time. Yet, considering it’s been ranked both 1st and 9th on lists of the best films ever made, I feel like its reputation is somewhat overblown. Psycho is still Hitchcock’s masterpiece as far as I’m concerned.

Best line: (Madeleine) “Only one is a wanderer; two together are always going somewhere. ”

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2019 S.G. Liput
649 Followers and Counting

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