2022 Blindspot Pick #9: The Apu Trilogy (1955, 1956, 1959)

Tags

Classics, Drama, Romance

I grew up in a jungle,
Where the canopies were dense,
Where I could play the warrior
To whom imagined foes defer,
Where time was slow yet fleeting,
A parade of precedents.

I moved then to a jungle,
Not of leaves but weathered stone.
I learned the world was wide and far
And much more fun than parents are.
And every story led me toward
A story of my own.

My mind became a jungle
As the years were filled with noise.
Though grief was vying for the lead,
A stronger love became my creed,
The kind that builds on fate fulfilled
And makes men out of boys.
____________________

MPA rating: Not Rated (nothing really objectionable, though at least PG for the serious subject matter)

So I didn’t fit in all my 2022 Blindspots into last year. It happens, and I’ll just have to aim for better this year. First, though, it’s time to wrap up the old ones, starting with a pick that was perhaps overly ambitious for my slow viewing schedule. Instead of just one film, I made one of my picks a trilogy so that I could introduce myself to the work of acclaimed Indian director Satyajit Ray. Based upon the novels of Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay and boasting a score by Ravi Shankar, the Apu Trilogy is made up of three black-and-white films following the life of a poor Bengali boy named Apu: Pather Panchali (or Song of the Little Road), Aparajito (or The Unvanquished), and Apur Sansar (or The World of Apu). All three are considered landmark films in Indian cinema, earning international esteem and influencing many filmmakers in the decades since.

First up is 1955’s Pather Panchali, Ray’s debut film focusing on Apu’s childhood in the rural forests of Bengal in the 1910s. More than any of the sequels, the first film is focused on the visuals, with an unhurried pace to allow viewers to consider the episodic life of the Roy family, a poor life of sweeping dirt floors and brushing their teeth with a finger but not without its moments of joy and wonder. A more commercial film would have provided some kind of narration, with Apu (Subir Banerjee) reminiscing about his harried mother (Karuna Banerjee), traveling father (Kanu Banerjee), and impish sister Durga (Runki Banerjee and later Uma Dasgupta; no actual relation between the four Banerjees, by the way). Instead, the movie shows rather than tells, reflecting the fact that it was filmed based on storyboards rather than a script, and it boasts several striking images in its picture of agrarian poverty, from the reflection of shadows in a pond as Apu and Durga follow a sweets peddler or the appearance of a train chugging through windswept fields of tall grass, the only sign that this story is set in a modern era.

Despite a behind-the-scenes featurette’s assertion that Pather Panchali is Durga’s film in the trilogy, I thought it belonged more to the mother Sarbajaya. While she doesn’t always come off as likable, even nagging an elderly houseguest until the old woman leaves, Sarbajaya bears the heaviest burden of the family. She deals with the objections over Durga’s stealing from neighbors, the loneliness when her husband is away earning money as a Brahmin priest, and the financial worries when he disappears for months at a time. Her actress has especially expressive eyes that do wonders with the mostly minimalist dialogue. Still, the rambling pacing of Pather Panchali is admittedly tedious at times and ultimately telling a sparse and sad story of poverty. Yet, even if it was meant as a standalone film, I see it as necessary groundwork for the story to come.

The second film is 1956’s Aparajito, which I enjoyed more than the first simply because more happened, but somehow I think it’s my favorite of the three. After the heartache of the first film, young Apu (Pinaki Sengupta) and his family have moved to the city of Benares (now Varanasi), leaving behind bamboo forests and sweeping dirt floors in favor of crowded riverside ghats and sweeping stone floors. While Apu’s father finds more work in the city, it doesn’t take long for more tragedy to strike, forcing another move to stay with a rural relative. There, Apu finally has the opportunity to attend school and awakens a love of learning that eventually sends him off to college in Kolkata, stepping into a more modern world of books and electricity.

Whereas Pather Panchali seemed largely observational, Aparajito felt like a more personal film, particularly focusing on the relationship between Apu and his mother. Apu didn’t have much agency before since he was a wide-eyed child, but comes into his own as a character once he makes the choice to attend school, thanks to the support of the long-suffering Sarbajaya. Like so many adolescents growing up, the older Apu (Smaran Ghosal) is drawn toward the bustling college life instead of his provincial past, and even his moments of sweetness with his mother have a tinge of disinterest on his part. I’m a sucker for a sacrificial mom story, and this is the kind of regretful tale that made me want to hug mine.

Rounding out the trilogy is 1959’s Apur Sansar, focusing on Apu as an adult (Soumitra Chatterjee). Now on his own, he’s a starving artist working on a novel and tutoring on the side, too overqualified for manual labor. When he is invited to a country wedding, a trick of fate and odd local customs result in him marrying the bride, which is a shock to both him and the lovely Aparna (Sharmila Tagore, who somehow looks and acts older than her mere fourteen years). Despite being strangers, a sweet romance gradually blossoms between the two, and Apu must come to terms with his role as husband and then father, as well as the trail of tragedy and grief that has followed him throughout his life.

It seems that most critics consider Apur Sansar the most complete and professional work in the trilogy, and it does feel like the most self-contained, as well as the most satisfying. Ray (or perhaps the author of the source material) is actually quite ruthless with his characters, so by the end, it’s gratifying whenever Apu has a bit of happiness. It helps too that Chatterjee is an outstanding actor, able to evoke his thoughts with only a look, such as a moment in bed where he seems struck by the fact that he is really married. (May he rest in peace, since he died just a couple years ago due to COVID.) I also liked how Apu and Aparna go out to the movies at one point to watch a rather hokey mythological epic, which both recalled a similar play Apu saw in the first film and highlighted how different Ray’s more grounded films were from what came before.

There actually isn’t much continuity between the three films, and any of them could be watched in isolation. Yet they do build upon each other in subtle ways, as when the Apu in Aparajito excels in class due to the home lessons his father gave him in Pather Panchali, or the chuckle-worthy scene in Apur Sansar where Apu’s friend describes the rural lifestyle of his cousins that so closely mirrors Apu’s own upbringing. There are a wealth of more subtle details and creative choices that a non-critic like me may not catch, so I found it even more rewarding to watch behind-the-scenes features about Ray’s artistry, such as the symbolic use of trains as harbingers of death throughout the films.

Now that I’ve watched these certified classics, I can see why they are so well-respected, and I now view Satyajit Ray as an Indian counterpart to Akira Kurosawa in Japan, telling detailed, culturally authentic stories that resonate beyond their specific country or setting. At the same time, I’ll be honest and say these are definitely what I call “critic movies”; perhaps in decades past, they might have had popular appeal, especially in India, but they are designed more to tell a slow and personal story rather than entertain. They are not the kind of movies one watches casually and thus probably not ones I’ll ever see again.

But as works of cinematic art representing the highs and lows of Apu’s life, they do live up to their reputation, provided one has the patience for them. Considering both Chatterjee and Tagore had long and successful careers after Apur Sansar, I’m now curious to see more of their work, not to mention that of director Ray. And I am very grateful for the Criterion Collection’s dedication to preserving all three films, the originals of which were burned in a fire and required great pains to restore. These are nuanced and significant entries in the history of international cinema, and even if they seem mundane by modern standards, I’m glad to have seen them.

Best lines: (schoolmaster, to Apu in Aparajito) “If you don’t read books like these, you can’t broaden your mind. We may live in a remote corner of Bengal, but that doesn’t mean that our outlook should be narrow.”

and

(Apu in Apur Sansar, commenting on Aparna going to her parents for a while) “But I will get some work done on my novel. I haven’t written a line since we were married.”   (Aparna) “Is that my fault?”   (Apu) “It’s to your credit. You know how much my novel means to me. You mean much more.”

Rank for all three: Honorable Mention

© 2023 S.G. Liput
784 Followers and Counting

2022 Blindspot Pick #3: Better Off Dead (1985)

Tags

Comedy, Romance

I lost my girl, I lost my job,
I lost my status to a mob,
So now I’ll simply sit and sob
The tears that only I shed.

‘Tis better for me to decease.
I guess I won’t renew my lease.
I’m done with living; rest in peace.
I know I’m better off dead.

I’ll tell myself that no one cares.
They shouldn’t be caught unawares
When my life’s clearly worse than theirs.
I bet they’ll party instead.

I see the headlines: “Loser Gone!”
Not much, of course, to write upon.
I’m lucky if I’ll get a yawn,
Assuming it even is read.

Wait, who’s that girl I just now saw?
She smiled at me! I withdraw
My claiming of the final straw.
I may not be better off dead.
___________________________

MPA rating: PG-13

What have I been up to? Because it certainly hasn’t been movie reviews. While I regret the delay, let’s just say I’m trying to expand my skills from poet to lyricist. 😉 Still, it’s past time for me to return to my Blindspot series. Considering I had never heard of it till fairly recently, Better Off Dead clearly doesn’t have the nostalgic reputation that ‘80s films like Ferris Bueller or Say Anything have, but I dare say it deserves to. This droll John Cusack vehicle has a lot to love, just perhaps a bit rough around the edges.

California high schooler Lane Myer (Cusack) is obsessively in love with his popular girlfriend Beth (Amanda Wyss), so he doesn’t take it well when she leaves him for a pompous skiing jock (Aaron Dozier). A proven loser with little reason to live, he makes several attempts to end his heartache permanently, though they thankfully always go absurdly wrong. It isn’t until a French exchange student living across the street (Diane Franklin) encourages him that he starts seeking a way to prove himself as more than a suicidal slacker.

In many ways, this movie is like the anti-Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, with Lane Myer being the perpetual loser in contrast to Matthew Broderick’s born-lucky protagonist, more akin to Ferris’s mopey friend Cameron. Some of the same gags are even inverted, as when an entire math class, minus Lane, eagerly volunteer to answer questions with a comical passion for dull math concepts spouted by the teacher (Vincent Schiavelli). The end of the credits even bears a message saying “the film’s over… you can go now.” Of course, Better Off Dead came out a year before Ferris Bueller, but I doubt there was any actual influence from either, probably.

While the title and description seem to focus on Lane’s suicidal mishaps, that dark humor is actually not as prevalent as you might expect. There are plenty of other recurring gags surrounding his stoner friend (Curtis Armstrong), his ridiculously talented little brother who can follow instructions to accomplish just about anything, the neighborhood’s disturbingly relentless paper boy, and the awkward romantic efforts of the mama’s boy across the street (Dan Schneider), all of which add up into a patchwork of absurdity that gets funnier with time. (Okay, maybe the paper boy gets old after a while.) Not to mention, the most memorable sequences involve surreal injections of animation, as when Lane argues with a drawing of his ex-girlfriend or when he fantasizes about bringing to life a hamburger that sings suspiciously like Eddie Van Halen.

Better Off Dead isn’t always as funny as it tries to be and often lacks cohesion, making it feel like a series of unrelated comedy skits, at least until a plot emerges from the silliness. Still, I enjoyed it quite a bit, and it could easily have been a staple in my house if only it would be shown on TV as often as Ferris Bueller was. While critics and Cusack himself were disappointed with the finished film, I admired its game cast (including Kim Darby and an accentless David Ogden Stiers as Lane’s quirky parents) and a sweet ‘80s soundtrack with the likes of Neil Sedaka and Hall and Oates. And by the end, it delivers a surprisingly encouraging romance and message out of the grim premise, making it an uneven but wholly likable teen comedy.

Best line: (Lane) “Gee, I’m real sorry your mom blew up, Ricky.”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
780 Followers and Counting

2022 Blindspot Pick #2: The Road Home (1999)

Tags

Drama, Foreign, Romance

On foreign roads, I may be led,
No guarantees of food or bed;
I might be kept, a bitter pill,
By duty or against my will;
I may delay on land or foam,
But still I’ll know the way back home.

On dying hopes I may depend,
But they’ll be with me to the end.
For be it distance, sickness, wars
That separates my heart from yours,
I know no matter where I roam,
Our love remains my road back home.
___________________________

MPA rating: G

I would never have even heard of The Road Home if it hadn’t been suggested to me by fellow movie-loving blogger Chris of Movies and songs 365. Sorry it took years to finally put it on my Blindspot list as incentive, but a big thanks for the recommendation! With the exception of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Yi Yi, Chinese cinema is unexplored territory for me, and while action and wuxia are more likely to make a splash with western moviegoers, it’s nice to be reminded of low-key romantic dramas like The Road Home, which can be easily overlooked.

After his father dies, a young man (Sun Honglei) returns home to his rural village and widowed mother, who insists on a traditional on-foot procession to bring her husband’s body back home, since he died in a nearby city. While weighing whether to honor her logistically difficult request, the man reminisces about his parents’ well-known love story and how his mother Zhai Di (Zhang Ziyi of Crouching Tiger fame, in her first major role) first met his schoolteacher father Luo (Zheng Hao). In a creative choice also used in The Phantom of the Opera, the modern time period is presented in black-and-white while the flashbacks to 1950s China shift to bright color, showing how much more vivid Di’s memories are compared with her present-day grief.

The Road Home thrives on its simplicity and the nostalgia of young hearts fluttering after each other. Ziyi is luminous as the young Di, who longs for the village’s new schoolteacher and subtly finds ways to make her affection known. I would say there’s a bit too much of that distant flirting, with far too many repetitive shots of Di staring googly-eyed at her love, which eventually feel like padding for the already short runtime. Still, the performances are excellent, shifting from sentimentality to devoted worry when Luo is taken away by the Chinese government. The film’s real power comes at the end, though, when the impact of one rural schoolteacher on the community is made evident in a show of caring that would make Mr. Holland’s Opus proud.

The Road Home is perhaps too simple a tale to get much notice in a cinematic landscape crowded by superheroes and CGI space battles, but it’s a refreshingly human account of young love. As mentioned, some of the longing looks could have been edited out, and I rather wish we had gotten to see at least a little bit of the happy life that Di and Luo had together, instead of just its preface and epilogue. What we do see, though, is a warm and sweet reminder that our parents or grandparents loved deeply long before we came along.

Best line: (older Di, to her son) “Your father’s gone. He used to worry about you. Our children must leave home. We can’t keep you here forever. As parents, we let you go, but we never stopped worrying. Your father missed you so.”
(Yusheng, the son) “Please don’t cry.”
(Di) “With your father gone, it’s hard not to feel lonely.”
(Yusheng) “I know.”
(Di) “You must work hard and make a good life.”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
776 Followers and Counting

Version Variations: West Side Story (1961, 2021)

Tags

Drama, Musical, Romance, Version Variations

What is it about being part of a group
That makes one more likely to hate those outside it,
To play in one’s mind their offenses on loop,
And bask in contempt with no effort to hide it?
The more they feel threatened by some other troop,
The more they seek violence, and thus justified it.

It’s easy to fall into “us versus them,”
To see every slight as a reason for hate,
But history’s splattered with vengeful mayhem
From tomfools preferring force over debate.
Perhaps we can’t grow too far from such a stem,
But “love wins,” they say. I suppose I will wait.
_____________________________

MPA rating for 1961 film: Approved/PG
MPA rating for 2021 film: PG-13

I didn’t expect the strain of NaPoWriMo to result in nearly a month off from blogging, but I’ve had my inspiration focused elsewhere. I’m back on the horse, though, and resurrecting a long-dormant feature: my Version Variations, where I review and compare two different cinematic versions of the same story. Whether it’s the original 1961 film adaptation from Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins or Steven Spielberg’s recent remake, West Side Story is a beloved and socially relevant musical that certainly supports multiple tellings.

As much as I pride myself on loving musicals, it may seem odd that I never reviewed the original West Side Story, which is nowhere to be found on my Top 365 list. The simple truth is that I’ve never considered it one of my favorites. Before a recent rewatch for this comparison, I saw it many years ago and mainly remembered that “America” was the best number and the ending was depressing. Of course, it’s based on Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, so of course it would have a sad ending, but that really is the main drawback for me. Intentionally tragic or not, I just don’t enjoy watching a tale that leaves me unsatisfied the way West Side Story does, though that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate what comes before said ending.

The original West Side Story won the 1961 Academy Award for Best Picture, back when musicals were prime award material. It was a rather innovative move reimagining the family feud of Romeo and Juliet as a gang war between whites and Puerto Ricans in NYC’s Upper West Side, not to mention Jerome Robbins’ balletic choreography performed by these street punks. Despite not actually being Hispanic, Natalie Wood is a radiant Maria, who falls quickly in love with former Jets member Tony (Richard Beymer), much to the consternation of her brother and Sharks leader Bernardo (George Chakiris, who is also not Hispanic and actually played Riff on the London stage).

I was surprised that I enjoyed the 1961 film a lot more than I remembered. Right from the opening number where the Jets and Sharks trade intimidations, the dance numbers are iconic with their jazzy, avant-garde sensibility. As I recalled, Rita Moreno’s Oscar-winning turn as Anita and her iconic song “America” is the highlight of the whole show. As someone who aspires to be a lyricist myself, I have immense respect for Stephen Sondheim and his words, whether it be “America”’s spirited debate on the nation’s virtues and vices or the fun but insightful social commentary of “Gee, Officer Krupke.” There’s so much to appreciate about the film’s romance, story, and musical production, yet it sadly feels fruitless by the tragic end, settling as a commentary for hatred matching hatred, which is worthwhile but far from a satisfying watch. Clearly, a sad ending hasn’t dampened West Side Story’s popularity or legacy, but it does keep it from ranking among my personal favorites.

Unfortunately, that goes for Spielberg’s 2021 remake, which is a shame since I consider it even better than the original in most respects. As good as the 1961 film is, it can’t help but feel dated, while last year’s version boasts a shiny makeover replete with graceful cinematography, colorful costumes, and greater cultural authenticity. Rachel Zegler makes an exceptional debut as Maria, while Ansel Elgort, despite some hate and reviews calling him wooden, is quite likable as Tony, and both flex their acting chops at the right moments. Ariana DeBose followed in Moreno’s footsteps, winning a deserved Oscar for her portrayal of Anita, though I don’t know why her castmates were passed over for similar awards nominations, such as Mike Faist as Riff. Among the many small plot changes made by screenwriter Tony Kushner, I especially liked the addition of Rita Moreno as the widow of Doc (the soda shop owner in the original); she not only brings gravitas and a trace of the original film, but her marriage also serves as a sort of example for Tony of what he and Maria could have if they can overcome the conflict around them.

My VC was skeptical of the few plot changes and rearrangements and still prefers the original, but I think Kushner’s additions make the story even better. The discussion of Tony’s jailtime and his guilt over letting his temper go too far adds to his character and makes his eventual dip into violence less out of character, although his subsequent reunion with Maria is marred by the absence of an actual explanation before she forgives him. Likewise, I appreciated that Tony and Maria are actually able to go on a date to a nearby museum, giving their romance a little more room to grow instead of fifteen minutes in a dress shop in the 1961 film. Likewise, the number “Cool” is after the Rumble in the original and feels rather extraneous, but the 2021 version uses it as a confrontation between Tony and Riff as Tony attempts to prevent the Rumble, which seems like he tried harder than just showing up in the middle of it.

My main beef with the creative choices made was Spielberg’s explicit decision to not subtitle the Spanish dialogue, despite including far more Spanish than its predecessor. He stated this was to avoid “giving English the power over the Spanish.” He may have wanted “to respect the language enough not to subtitle it,” but he should have recognized that much of his audience may not know Spanish, which was frustrating for my VC. Some scenes coast on context and didn’t need subtitles, but others have entire conversations in Spanish that withhold full understanding from English-only viewers. Luckily, I know enough Spanish to keep up, and I don’t mind more of it for authenticity, so long as it doesn’t become a language barrier; I just think it was a poor and politically correct choice on Spielberg’s part.

Still, my criticisms of the newer film are minor objections when I look at how well it renewed a sixty-year-old classic. Last year was honestly a dream for lovers of movie musicals (like me), and it breaks my heart that In the Heights, Dear Evan Hansen, and West Side Story were all regarded as flops, since their performance might discourage future musical adaptations. Hopefully, Hollywood will just blame COVID and keep up this musical resurgence. There are still upcoming musical adaptations of The Color Purple, Mean Girls, and a two-part Wicked, so there’s hope.

While West Side Story feels like it deserves a place on my List, the ending is strangely a deal breaker for me. I don’t know why this tragic end is worse than sad endings like Grave of the Fireflies or Doctor Zhivago, but I’m just left unsatisfied with the lesson of “hatred breeds more hatred.” I can still appreciate both versions of this classic story and admire them for their obvious strengths. In deciding which is better, most will likely opt for the original, but I’d personally give the remake the edge. From Shakespeare’s time to 1961 to 2021, this story is clearly timeless and a well-deserved musical touchstone.

Best line from 1961 film: (Doc, to the Jets) “When do you kids stop? You make this world lousy!”   (Action) “We didn’t make it, Doc.”
Best line from 2021 film: (Riff, in a perfect summation of radicalization) “You know, I wake up to everything I know either getting sold or wrecked or being taken over by people that I don’t like, and they don’t like me, and you know what’s left out of all of that? The Jets.”

Rank for 1961 film: List Runner-Up
Rank for 2021 film: List Runner-Up (darn close to List-Worthy, though)

© 2022 S.G. Liput
774 Followers and Counting

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014)

Tags

Action, Drama, Romance, Sci-fi, Superhero, Thriller

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem balancing the gifts you were born with and some kind of curse. I started out with that goal, but I’m not sure the result quite matches the prompt today. Still, in going more general, I think I tapped into why I’m an optimist.)

It’s tempting to wish for a different life,
To notice how easy another’s would be.
If I were not stuck
With such miserable luck…
As if the potential were some guarantee.

Yet when I feel like that, beguiled by grief,
Envisioning tragedy somehow undone,
I catch such a muse,
So intent to abuse,
And show it each smile from trials I’ve won.

The good that I’ve seen and at least tried to do
Could likewise be gone, both the sorrow and gifts.
Life’s not simplified
Looking on the bright side,
But I’ll take what’s true over trading in ifs.
______________________________

MPA rating: PG-13

I can’t seem to find much agreement on whether The Amazing Spider-Man 2 is better or worse than its predecessor. I’ve read reviews that acclaim Andrew Garfield’s charisma when wearing his Spidey suit, and it certainly does have more personality than the somewhat bland first film. Yet I’ve also seen certain scenes mercilessly mocked, like the unresolved ending with Paul Giamatti as a hammy Russian Rhino. Personally, I think the second film does improve on the first, at least in answering some of the lingering questions, and it certainly took guts to put to film one of the most famous and gut-wrenching twists from the comics.

Garfield may still be the third best Peter Parker (sorry!), but he’s still quite a good one, especially alongside Emma Stone’s Gwen Stacy. Haunted by the dying words of Gwen’s father (Denis Leary), he still fears for her safety, and with good reason as numerous supervillains threaten the city. Like many other nerds-turned-villains, Max Dillon (Jamie Foxx) starts out idolizing Spider-Man before an accident and a misunderstanding turn him into the vengeful Electro, while Peter’s old pal Harry Osborn (Dane DeHaan as a pale stand-in for James Franco) is spurred by a terminal illness into Green Goblin-hood.

There’s much to enjoy in Garfield’s second outing, from several outstanding action set pieces to the continued winsome chemistry between Peter and Gwen. While the backstory about Peter’s father isn’t the most interesting aspect, it does supply a logical answer to an unspoken question. I like to say that the freak accidents in these movies, like a radioactive spider bite or falling into a tank of electric eels, either kill you or give you superpowers, and there’s a pretty good reason why it was the latter for Peter specifically. The plot is rather long and busy with all the villains and laying the groundwork for future sequels that never materialized (Felicity Jones never gets to do much as Felicia Hardy), but I can appreciate how much this film tries since the first seemed content to be underwhelming.

It’s notable how both Garfield’s series and Tobey Maguire’s run as Spider-Man both ended on rather dour notes. Neither Spider-Man 3 nor Amazing Spider-Man 2 end very happily, so it’s all the better that No Way Home managed to provide some much-needed closure for some of its predecessors’ loose or less-than-satisfying ends. I’m still hoping for more, though, and with the renewed appreciation that No Way Home inspired for Spider-Men past, perhaps we’ll see even more of Garfield’s Peter Parker.

Best line: (Gwen Stacy’s valedictorian speech) “It’s easy to feel hopeful on a beautiful day like today, but there will be dark days ahead of us too. There will be days where you feel all alone, and that’s when hope is needed most. No matter how buried it gets, or how lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope. Keep it alive. We have to be greater than what we suffer. My wish for you is to become hope; people need that. And even if we fail, what better way is there to live? As we look around here today, at all of the people who helped make us who we are, I know it feels like we’re saying goodbye, but we will carry a piece of each other into everything that we do next, to remind us of who we are, and of who we’re meant to be.”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
772 Followers and Counting

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Tags

Action, Fantasy, Romance, Superhero

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a concrete poem, one that is written in the shape of its topic. These are always tricky for me, but I opted for the shape of a prominent letter befitting this film.)

What is                                                                                       a hero?
  Someone                                         who                                sees
    What needs                             doing and                      does,
        Who knows                    what    they’re             losing
               And loses            that             others,      even
                  Strangers,      may                     win,  maybe
                       Never knowing                        the name
                              Of their                                   hero.
______________________________

MPA rating:  PG-13

Like many others, I was quite impressed with 2017’s Wonder Woman and thought it signaled an overdue increase in entertainment value for DC’s superhero lineup. Gal Gadot was perfectly cast as the idealistic Diana, her chemistry with Chris Pine’s Steve Trevor provided sacrificial pathos by the end, and the World War I setting was a unique contrast to all the modern superhero settings. So there was good reason to think that Wonder Woman 1984 would be a similar success, which only makes its failings more disappointing.

Set in 1984 (obviously), this second adventure sees Wonder Woman contending with less impressive threats than the Olympian god she took down in the first film. Pedro Pascal plays a desperate businessman Max Lord, who uses a wishing stone to gain the power to grant wishes himself, always with an unpleasant twist to them, while Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig) is the recipient of one of those wishes, a clumsy geologist whose initial hero worship for Wonder Woman turns to resentment as she becomes the confident Cheetah. Of course, Diana gets a wish of her own as well, which enables the return of her long-lost love Steve, albeit in a way that is problematic for long-term happiness.

There was a good movie somewhere in the pitch for Wonder Woman 1984, but it got lost in the overload of themes and complete lack of subtlety. There are some decent action scenes, like during a truck chase in Egypt, while one set in a mall is laughably mediocre in tone and execution. Both Lord’s monkey-paw-style mania and Barbara’s descent into villainy have good moments as well, with Pascal’s smarmy façade especially fitting his character to a T, yet their final confrontations with Wonder Woman are too chaotic with obvious CGI to be taken seriously. The moral of the wish storyline especially falls flat, implying that everyone would only wish for evil things if given the chance (President Reagan is literally shown wishing he had more nukes as opposed to something like, I don’t know, world peace), and it’s bewildering how incoherent the finale is, with Barbara somehow getting a second wish and both Lord and Diana somehow speaking to everyone on Earth via a satellite.

I went into Wonder Woman 1984 wanting to like it and did enjoy seeing Steve reunited with Diana and introduced to the 1980s, but not even the same director and stars from the first film could save a plot this half-baked. It does have some silly-enough-to-be-entertaining appeal, though. Gadot is still an ideal Wonder Woman, so I hope she can still get a worthy sequel at some point. I’d wish for it, but now I know that can be risky.

Best line: (Max Lord, repeatedly) “Life is good! But it can be better.”

Rank: Honorable Mention (since I’d still probably watch it again.)

© 2022 S.G. Liput
771 Followers and Counting

Palm Springs (2020)

Tags

Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Romance

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a poem featuring repetition, so what better film to inspire me than one about a time loop?)

I woke up this morning
And jumped out of bed.
I woke up this morning
And lay there instead.

I woke up this morning
To paint the town red.
I woke up this morning
And ended up dead.

I woke up this morning,
My wild oats spread.
I woke up this morning
To tears and bloodshed.

I woke up this morning
And panicked and fled.
I woke up this morning
And just shook my head.

I woke up this morning,
To nothing but dread.
I woke up this morning
With nothing ahead.

I woke up this morning
Again, as I said.
I woke up this morning,
Tomorrow still gone.
So how many mornings
Will this hell go on?
______________________

MPA rating: R (mainly for language)

Time loop movies have gotten a sudden surge of interest recently, from the action of Boss Level to the teen romance of The Map of Tiny Perfect Things (both of which I still need to see), but 2020’s Palm Springs was a pandemic-era hit that brought the subgenre to the fore. I don’t want to sound dismissive, but no time loop movie will ever top the fantastically original Groundhog Day, which every other such film will inevitably be compared to and found lacking. Still, Palm Springs proves there’s room for more than just one ‘90s classic.

Set in the titular California desert resort, Palm Springs mixes up the usual time loop scenario by throwing in two loopers (well, actually three) rather than a single sufferer. The two in question are wedding guest Nyles (Andy Samberg) and the sister of the bride Sarah (Cristin Milioti), both of whom stumble upon a mysterious energy source within a cave at different times and end up endlessly repeating the wedding day, “one of those infinite time loop situations you might have heard about,” as Nyles calls it. Like Bill Murray did before, the reactions of the pair range from hedonism to despair to eventual nihilism as they both decide that nothing matters when time itself won’t let you move forward or even die, though each of them are in the rare position of having someone else sharing the same predicament, someone who may offer them something worth caring about.

I can certainly appreciate an unconventional rom com, and Samberg and Milioti make a likable pair to root for… eventually. Truth be told, I didn’t much enjoy either of them at the beginning, owing to their casual promiscuity and growing cynicism, but they both reach a point where they realize their own failings and strive to be better. And while one finds their way to an actual solution to the time loop problem, the other grows confident enough to give a stirring confession of love reminiscent of the end of When Harry Met Sally…. Plus, there’s J.K. Simmons as a third time looper who naturally steals his few scenes with a different response to eternity than the other two.

I suppose my main complaint is one that few will share, just disappointment that this had to be R-rated when Groundhog Day remained clean enough to be watchable by all. Even so, Palm Springs caters to my fondness for time loop stories and becomes a far more satisfying and endearing rom com than I expected from its first half. Like its predecessor, it cleverly finds ways to keep its potential repetition from getting boring and has more original ideas than its borrowed concept might indicate, so I can give it some respect. But Groundhog Day was still better.

Best line: (Nyles) “You’re my favorite person that I’ve ever met, and, yes, I know that it’s crazy odds that the person I like the most in my entire life would be someone I met while I was stuck in a time loop, but you know what else is crazy odds, getting stuck in a time loop…”

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
767 Followers and Counting

Her Blue Sky (2019)

Tags

Animation, Anime, Drama, Fantasy, Romance

(Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was rather detailed, to “recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.” I decided to adapt the prompt to the viewpoint of a character from this film.)

He made me laugh until the day
He made me cry and went away.
Though where he’s gone I cannot say,
I like to think he rues that day.

My sister worked me to the bone
When she was young and trouble-prone,
But now that she is nearly grown,
I hate to think of her alone.

I still recall the song he played,
And when my sister can be swayed,
She plays and makes me wish he’d stayed.
Why can’t I let the memories fade?
_______________________________

MPA rating:  Not Rated (a tame PG-13)

While modern anime films are dominated by Mamoru Hosoda and Makoto Shinkai (plus the plethora of films based on existing properties), there are some underrated original gems that don’t get as much attention as they should. Her Blue Sky is yet another example of the poignancy so easily captured by writer Mari Okada, known for emotion-heavy tearjerkers like The Anthem of the Heart and Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms. This one doesn’t really aim for tears as those do, but it certainly appeals to one’s sense of nostalgia and the regret that comes with looking back at how much we change over the years.

Set in the mountainous Chichibu area (where Okada was born herself), the film focuses on a young bassist named Aoi and her older sister Akane, who has cared for Aoi alone for the last thirteen years, choosing this responsibility over running off to Tokyo with her musician boyfriend Shinno. As a music festival approaches, Aoi remembers her fondness for Shinno and is shocked when he appears in her shed, looking exactly as he did thirteen years ago. While she suspects he is a ghost, the arrival of a grown, still-living Shinno back to town catches them off-guard, and the difference between his optimistic younger self and jaded older self puts both sisters through the emotional ringer.

While some may be disappointed at the lack of explanation for the supernatural elements, especially during a climactic sequence that is both delightfully touching and a little silly-looking, Shinno’s younger self is supposedly an ikiryō, a Japanese spirit that can manifest from a living person, a bit of interesting folklore I didn’t know, much like the 1970s song “Gondhara,” which features prominently in the film. The animation is a treat, with particular detail afforded to the instrument-playing, which is so often obscured to avoid the effort of animating authentic performances, and I’ve always enjoyed the character designs of this creative team, who previously worked on shows like Toradora.

While Aoi’s moody teenager shell may seem pretentious at first, her relationship with her sister is strained but quite sweet, as are the interactions with Shinno as she questions her feelings toward her sister’s ex. Thankfully, it all wraps up in a satisfying end, which is surprising since much of that end is only suggested in still images during the end credits. Her Blue Sky isn’t very easy to find and doesn’t even have an English dub yet, but it’s a small and tender drama of music and sisterhood that is worth seeking out.

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
767 Followers and Counting

Belle (2021)

Tags

Action, Animation, Anime, Drama, Family, Musical, Romance, Sci-fi

(Good Friday and work obligations sadly made me miss yesterday, but I’m back on the wagon. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was for a curtal sonnet, an 11-line sonnet variant from Gerard Manley Hopkins.)

In the realm of cyberspace I hide,
Comforted by anonymity.
My flesh-self is content behind its smokescreen.
Robed in pixels, I can roam with pride,
Finding other introverts to agree,
Minorities like ghosts in the machine.

Life from womb to here has left me wincing;
Life since logging on is fancy-free,
Far easier to spurn the cruel and mean.
I’m someone else, and boy, am I convincing,
As you’ve seen.
________________________

MPA rating:  PG

In anime circles, a new film from Mamoru Hosoda is an event. From Summer Wars to Wolf Children to the Oscar-nominated Mirai, he’s proven to be one of the most skilled anime directors around, and Belle promised to be yet another win. A modern riff on Beauty and the Beast fusing music and social media, the film garnered a fourteen-minute standing ovation at Cannes, making me wonder if it was just a case of no one wanting to be the first to stop clapping. Belle is another strong film in Hosoda’s oeuvre, but, like Encanto, it’s also proof that a film can be good while also being deeply flawed.

In the near-future of Belle, a digital world called U has become the most popular metaverse for people across the globe to interact with avatars somehow extrapolated from their own biometrics, resulting in an array of bizarre appearances ranging from babies to superheroes to literal hands with a face on it, which no one seems to object to. Suzu is a self-conscious high school student still haunted by her mother’s death, but when she logs into U as the beautiful Bell (which is what Suzu means), she finds that the anonymity allows her to sing again and, much to her surprise, become a celebrity. As she deals with the flurry of differing opinions that come with fame, she grows curious about the aggressive avatar known as the Beast, whose unknown identity is hunted by U’s authorities.

Hosoda is no stranger to virtual worlds, having previously worked with the concept in Digimon and Summer Wars, so it’s no surprise that the world of U is dazzling, an eye-popping blend of 3D and 2D animation, thanks in part to backgrounds from Cartoon Saloon. It’s easily Hosoda’s most visually resplendent and imaginative film that still carries his calling cards (he must have a thing for flying whales). The bad thing about U is that so much of it is left unexplained. While OZ in Summer Wars had several clear real-world applications, the avatars in U are never shown doing much more than floating around and commenting, though there are concerts and fighting tournaments, I suppose. Plus, it’s never clear how the real-world users are interacting with the virtual world; at some points, it’s as if their avatars are mirroring their real body’s movements, but is it like Ready Player One-style mechanics? There’s mention of sharing the senses of their avatars, so how can they see both U and the real world when logged in? Questions like that just require a suspension of disbelief that divorces the virtual and real worlds for the sake of the story.

The virtual world is ostensibly the main fantastical draw of the film, but I honestly enjoyed the parts in the real world more. The high school romance drama is nothing unusual for the genre, but the relatable supporting characters are an endearing bunch, particularly during a laughably awkward love confession. It was also a nice subversion to reveal the usually unsympathetic popular girl as a genuinely caring friend. However, the real world is also where the story falters toward the end. The revelation of the Beast’s identity is a powerful moment that speaks to the trauma of hidden abuse, yet it’s a reality for which the film doesn’t really have an answer. One culminating sacrifice hits an emotional high, but Suzu’s efforts afterward are unrealistic and absent of any long-term solution.

Belle has a lot of impressive elements in service to a somewhat half-baked plot, and the Beauty and the Beast parallels are rather incidental to the main story. Its vision of social media feeding frenzies and the online experience are timely and well-executed, while Suzu’s journey to understand the meaning of selflessness is suitably moving as well. And though the songs sometimes feel shoehorned in, I must give props to their quality, including the English recordings for the dub, and I think that the climactic “A Million Miles Away” would have been a worthy nominee for a Best Song Oscar if the Academy would look around more. Belle may not match the likes of Wolf Children, but it lives up to Summer Wars and exceeds Mirai, in my opinion. The visual splendor on display largely overshadows the plot issues, just as long as you don’t think about it too much.

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
765 Followers and Counting

Love and Monsters (2020)

Tags

Action, Comedy, Romance, Sci-fi, Thriller

(Day 10 of NaPoWriMo provided a straightforward prompt asking for a love poem. With this film in mind, I couldn’t help a little tongue in cheek regarding the boasts made by the lovestruck.)

Dear love, I know we’ve been apart too many days to count,
But I can still remember every contour of your face.
If it meant seeing you again, I’d climb the highest mount
Or cross the deepest river or such similar clichés.

But mounts and rivers had their day; new dangers have emerged,
And I would brave them all as well to be back by your side.
I’d vanquish vicious Spuzzards by the dozens if you urged,
And butcher every Chumbler that attempts humanicide.

Sand gobblers are nothing, whether colony or queen,
For I could take on hundreds with the thought of where you are.
One day I’ll make the trek and brave these threats that stand between;
Till then, within my bunker, I will love you from afar.
______________________________

MPA rating:  PG-13

A good film doesn’t always have to revolutionize its genre or blow away expectations; sometimes it’s enough to just be entertaining and live up to its name, which Love and Monsters certainly does. Set in a near future where an attempt to destroy an asteroid (perhaps some alternate plot for Don’t Look Up) resulted in all coldblooded creatures mutating into giant monsters, the film follows Joel Dawson (Dylan O’Brien) on his journey to reunite with his girlfriend Aimee (Jessica Henwick). After seven years living in separate survivor colonies, connecting only via radio conversations, Joel decides to brave the 85-mile, monster-ridden hike to his love, despite his clear lack of survival experience.

Love and Monsters fits snugly beside other post-apocalyptic survival films while keeping the horrific monster-vs-human action at bay with a largely fun tone and (thankfully) PG-13-level violence. While the monsters are obvious, thanks to Oscar-nominated visual effects, O’Brien provides the love in the title, his memories of Aimee fueling his drive to reunite. His relatable voiceover makes him a likable guide to this dangerous new world, joined at times by a dog named Boy and some other survivors like the pair of Michael Rooker and Ariana Greenblatt, who give him a crash course on how to get by in a world where nearly everything wants to eat you.

The film does somewhat step out of its expected mold by the end, subverting Joel’s expectations about love and found family. Despite its familiar elements, it’s nice to see an original adventure film that delivers exactly what it means to and that managed to win over critics and audiences despite the pandemic forcing it from theaters to a digital on-demand release. No matter how hard life might have gotten in the last few years, this film proves it could be much, much worse, and even that can be survived.

Best line:  (Joel, addressing other survivors) “If I can survive out here, anybody can. It’s like a good friend once told me:  Good instincts are earned by making mistakes. If you’re lucky enough to survive a few mistakes, you’re gonna do all right out here.”

Rank:  List Runner-Up

© 2022 S.G. Liput
764 Followers and Counting