Sunday, February 26, 2017

'Get Out' is really as great as you hear it is and then some

I am so thrilled that I got to see Get Out when I did. It is truly a masterpiece and movie of the moment. However, I was worried, because it's starting to get so much hype (surely the 'it's not that great' blogs are on the way) that I felt like I'd be underwhelmed. I was predisposed to like it, since I am an enormous fan of its director Jordan Peele's work on the hit Comedy Central sketch series Key & Peele, but what he has crafted here is genre work at its finest, and a project that will easily rank among my top 10 favorite films of this year. This is a movie that will give a lot of people a lot to talk about -- and that is a wonderful thing. It's many things: a hilarious social commentary, a deeply profound meditation on race, and a creepy horror film. But most importantly, it's original.

Sure, Peele himself would concede that he has drawn inspiration from other heady horror films like The Stepford Wives and Rosemary's Baby. But I have never seen a film tackle the subject of race quite like this.

Keep in mind, it's never preachy, and it doesn't provide simplistic bad guys and good guys. What it does do, unlike perhaps any fictional film I've seen, is approximate the paranoia many African-Americans feel when thrust into predominately white, condescending spaces (a feeling I know all too well). And it also makes a smart, nuanced point about how racism is not just motivated by fear but also in some cases envy.

There are people of all races who may not wish to enjoy the full black experience -- but who would love to enjoy what they at least perceive to be its inherent gifts and appeal.
Jordan Peele

Because Get Out takes the time to set up its characters and allows the dread to slowly creep into the proceedings, you get on board more easily with its patently absurd premise, and the story continues to throw curveballs at you right up to its final frames. This movie not only made me reflect on moments from my own personal dating life, but the death of Trayvon Martin, too.

The cast is uniformly excellent, and hopefully its leading man -- Daniel Kaluuya -- will become a star because of his incredible work here. And Lil Rel Howery is howlingly funny in the comic relief role. But most of this film's critical acclaim is being justifiably heaped on Peele, because this is so clearly his singularly sophisticated vision.

As the film's writer and director -- he lends it a genuine gut-busting humor, but also razor sharp smarts. I have no idea how long he sat on this idea and developed it, but there were strands of the plot I was still piecing together after I left the theater and I found myself nodding in approval (this one will probably be even more rewarding after repeat viewings).

He has a terrific eye -- as anyone who's watched the well-crafted sketches of Key & Peele can tell you -- and he also has a comic's adroit sense of timing. There isn't a scene or snippet of dialogue wasted. And the movie's big reveal is so deftly handled and fascinating -- I always say a great movie can often seem like a great book -- and this was one I didn't want to end.

There's so much to unpack and yet I was never less than thoroughly entertained. And the movie is a reminder of what genre movies can be. I've heard some critics favorably compare this to the work of John Carpenter, and I think that's spot on (George A. Romero deserves a shout out too). Horror films, I have always argued, have the potential to speak truths by tapping into our greatest fears and anxieties in a purely visceral way. Sometimes watching a great horror film can almost feel like a religious experience in that way.

Take my favorite film, The Shining, for instance. On the surface, it's a fairly trippy haunted house story, but there is a lot more for the taking if you want it. In Get Out, there is high and low satire, truly well earned jump scares, and some gorgeous cinematography and music.

But the reason I think it's catching on -- in addition to rave reviews, a wonderful trailer and likely solid word of mouth -- is that it feels vital and timely for this post-Trump world. People of color are feeling 'nervous' to say the least. It's a disquieting time and Get Out both captures that emotion and provides catharsis for it.

I can't recommend this film more highly -- it's the thinking person's scary movie a lot of us have been waiting for. And it exemplifies why people like me love cinema.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

'La La Land' vs. 'Moonlight': Why the Oscars don't really matter

There is very little enthusiasm for the Oscars this year. According to a recent poll, something like 60 percent of the country can't name a single one of the Best Picture nominees. It's not that the movies aren't terrific, most of them are. And a few, like La La Land and Hidden Figures, have become big breakout hits.

This year there isn't the tension of #OscarsSoWhite in the air, or a host like Chris Rock who can make hay out of it. Instead we have the fairly middle-of-the road Jimmy Kimmel. And there are very few races which have real suspense about the results, except for maybe Best Picture, but I'll get to that in a moment.

It may be in part because of Trump. He has so consumed the news cycle and kept the populace on edge, that the Oscars seem like a quaint and unimportant distraction right now. But I also think -- not unlike the Miss America pageant -- they have come to mean less than they used to.

It's not the argument that the movies reflect critical snobbery and not audiences' faves, after all, big blockbusters like The Revenant, Mad Max: Fury Road and Gravity have competed for top awards in recent years. I think viewers are just getting hipper to how inherently flawed the whole process is.

People win awards because they're due or because of the narrative behind their nomination. Edgy or interesting work and films either don't get recognized at all or almost always lose to the safer, more self-congratulatory movies.

Yes, sometimes an Oscar win can mean a lot more exposure and commercial success, especially for smaller films, but the way that many people consume movies now (on demand and streaming), most viewers will likely wait to catch award winners in the comfort of their own homes, if they haven't already bothered to see them in theaters.

Even the old school career bump that actors and actresses get from winning an Oscar doesn't appear to exist anymore. For every Lupita Nyong'o, there are a lot of Jennifer Hudsons and Moniques.

Now, I recognize the irony of me making this argument -- for the past several years I have breathlessly anticipated the nominees and weighed in on the potential results with my friend Brian Wezowicz. I am an unapologetic movie nerd, an obsessive consumer of this stuff. I like to root for the films I love and the performances that moved me. But the fact is, not unlike with the sports teams I root for, the people I want to win rarely do and when they don't it feels like more of a shrug than a sneer. If I'd had my way Bill Murray and Sylvester Stallone would have won acting Oscars by now, but it isn't up to me, and it never will be.

Speaking of Bill Murray, he used to do this amazing bit when he was a cast-member on Saturday Night Live (and would frequently resurrect it when he'd come back to host) where he would sardonically give his Oscar picks for each year. Besides calling the Supporting races irrelevant, he would always use comical arguments that had nothing to do with quality to reach his conclusions. And one year, he refashioned the race to feature nothing but former and current Not Ready for Prime-Time Players.

Bill Murray's Oscar predictions 
I have been thinking about the bit a lot as I've been reading a lot about the backlash to La La Land and grumblings that Moonlight -- a film I thought was far superior, and many critics agree -- should upset it, but probably won't. At the end of the day I think La La Land will triumph, and probably for reasons that have little to do with which film is 'better.'

It's inherently absurd to compare movies like this in the first place -- one is an expertly crafted, frothy, throwback musical and the other is heartbreaking, and fiercely urgent coming of age film. It's not like awards should only go to films that are deep. And there have been plenty of examples of films that lost that have gone on to greater glory (Pulp Fiction or Citizen Kane for example), and of course many classics never even get considered. Guess who never won an Oscar for directing? Alfred Hitchcock, Robert Altman or Stanley Kubrick.

La La Land is the kind of movie that wins Oscars. For better or worse. It has big, likable stars. It's a gorgeous production. It's romantic about Hollywood. And it's a lot of fun. Like most movies like this, if you dig a little deeper, you can find things to quibble about -- although I am not in the camp that believes that the film is suggesting that only a white man can "save" jazz, just like I don't think Back to the Future was seriously trying to suggest that a white man taught Chuck Berry everything he knows.

I honestly think the movie is just a victim of our current culture of in-the-moment re-evaluation. It peaked early, earned nearly universal praise, so naturally people would start to take potshots at it and trash it. It'll still win -- it's record tying nominations proves it has plenty of support -- but it may not stand the test of time, since now it's becoming a movie you have to defend liking.

Moonlight, on the other hand, has gratefully not endured any revisionist criticism. Unfortunately, though, despite all its acclaim, it has not caught on commercially. I have never met someone who's seen it and not liked it immensely, and I sincerely hope it achieves cult classic status. I sincerely believe it will hold up and will be oft-cited as a landmark.

Would an Oscar help it achieve that? Maybe. But even if it doesn't pull off an upset on Sunday, its fans won't be any less passionate about it.

I am still going to watch the Oscars, because I'm old school and I'm sucker for moving and/or politically charged speeches. But no matter what happens on the show, Moonlight will still be the Best Picture of the year.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Why don't they make controversial movies anymore?

There are "controversial" movies today but usually the scandals are generated by the off-screen rhetoric or antics of the star or director (or in the case of last year's The Birth of a Nation, both). There are what I consider to be faux controversies, like the backlash against La La Land as supposedly a "white savior film," which I'll address in a future post. But rarely nowadays does a film itself intend to provoke a strong response from an audience. Even films like Fifty Shades of Grey which are marketed in such a way to prepare audiences for a 'shock,' are destined to fall short because they are unapologetically safe and commercial.

Last night I got to revisit Stanley Kubrick's genuinely controversial black comic masterpiece A Clockwork Orange and I came away with several thoughts -- besides the fact that the movie still holds up as a deeply cynical look at our society's culture of violence, and by extension its anemic inability to address it -- the film also exposes the limits of modern movie making, which is more interested in established properties and franchises, than inspiring debate and an emotional response.

It's impossible not to feel something while you're watching A Clockwork Orange, during it and afterwords. For some viewers, it's revulsion. Even Kubrick himself felt a certain ambiguity about his kinetic mix of violence, sexuality and humor, so much so that he agreed to keep it out of theaters in his adopted home of the U.K. for decades.

Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange
He made several audacious choices -- chief among them to make the lead character of Alex (played in a career-defining, inexcusably Oscar snubbed performance by Malcolm McDowell) likable and funny, despite the fact that he is a sexual predator, a criminal and a truly sociopathic character with only an affinity for the music of Beethoven to humanize him.

The film's detachment from its brutality lends it both its power and potential to offend, but at least it's a movie with some profound ideas in it, and it's not predictable, unless you've read the book on which its based (which it is fairly consistent with). Part of the reason that, like all of Kubrick's best work, it's still so watchable and timeless, is that its themes are still worth being explored. In fact, some elements of the movie resonate even more now than they probably did when the film first came out back in 1971.

Now, look at this year's Best Picture offerings. Most of the films are quite worthy and wonderful, Moonlight, especially, felt like a wholly original and time capsule worthy film. But none of the others are taking the risk of alienating the audience that comes to see them.

Just over 30 years ago, a movie as unconventional as David Lynch's Blue Velvet was at least able to sneak into the Best Director race (although the Best Picture race was pretty tame). This year, not only were there very few films that I would describe as timely, there were almost none that I would call provocative (save for the great, gruesome Green Room).

When the major studios began tightening their belts and shuttering more and more of their independent output, some speculated that this would be the result. Not only are 'prestige' films getting pushed further and further down the calendar, but they are calculated in much the same way blockbusters are -- hence the ability to predict next year's most likely Oscar films now.

Ironically, the best place to find truly invigorating, thought-provoking work has increasingly become the documentary genre, where a movie like I Am Not Your Negro or 13th can say more with found footage than any soaring score over a scripted scene ever could.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Flashback 2007: My top 10 favorite movies from 10 years ago

I remember thinking that 2007 was a particularly strong year for movies, particularly darker-themed, brooding thrillers that tested the boundaries of audience sympathy for their "heroes," even though the year's biggest hits were still big sequels and kid-friendly fare.

I remember being especially pleased by the triumph of the Coen Brothers' No Country for Old Men at the following year's Oscars. The film and its directors were definitely deserving -- but it wasn't the type of film that typically takes home Hollywood's biggest prize.

It was, for all intents and purposes, an existentialist neo-western (it turns out 2007 was a good year for that genre) with an ending which defied expectations for the kinds of third act shoot out which typify the crime genre.

10) 3:10 to Yuma - The rare remake, that in my opinion, surpasses the original. I was late to this one, was always surprised by how well received it was critically until I finally saw it and realized it was one of the more solid, efficient and well-acted attempts at a traditional western in years. Notoriously grumpy actors Christian Bale and Russell Crowe make an unlikely good team, but the real standout here is Ben Foster, who shows early signs of the genius he'd display later in Hell or High Water.

9) The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford - Everyone is gushing over Casey Affleck's performance in Manchester By the Sea, but for my money his most affecting work may be in this little-seen, gorgeous-looking revisionist western, which focuses on an unlikable, self-involved side character who asserts himself into history by stabbing a would-be confidant in the back. The film's mouthful of a title probably doomed it, but it has stood the test of time for a reason.

8) Once - I've been pretty vocal about my distaste for most overtly romantic movies. I have nothing against romance of course, but as a genre they tend to lack in real tension or suspense. But this beautiful little Irish musical rises above cliches with a strong streak of authenticity (the stars were in love at the time) and some truly exhilarating performances (both actors were also singer-songwriters). Even if the true life story didn't work out so well, it's a very rewarding viewing experience.


Don Cheadle in Ocean's Thirteen
7) Ocean's Thirteen - I have always been an enormous fan and defender of this trilogy, particularly the much maligned Ocean's Twelve. And for those who were put off by that, admittedly more indulgent entry, this finale was a great return to form for George Clooney and company. They return to what they do best -- knocking off Vegas casinos -- and Al Pacino is a game adversary as a Steve Wynn type egomaniac. However, the real scene-stealer in the movie may be Don Cheadle in his wacko Evil Knievel jumpsuit.

6) Grindhouse - I was stunned then and now that Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's double-header homage to the trash cinema of their youth bombed with audiences. Both of their installments are incredibly funny, shocking and audacious. Perhaps film-goers weren't sure what to make of films that at times dared to be intentionally amateurish. Although Death Proof has some of Tarantino's more annoying tics, it contains a truly great Kurt Russell performance and one of the best car chases of all time. And Rodriguez's underrated Planet Terror is a far better zombie movie homage than The Walking Dead is.

5) American Gangster - One of my favorite all-time Denzel Washington performances anchors this epic biopic about Harlem drug kingpin Frank Lucas. His is a study of cool, and much more intense than his previous more villainous role in Training Day. His opposition is led by a disheveled Russell Crowe as a crusading narcotics cop. Their clash generates real sparks, as does this well-scored and shot period picture. This film is so good, Jay-Z made one of his best albums because he was inspired by it.

4) Michael Clayton - This is perhaps the last great legal thriller of the past several years, and it stands out because not a word or scene is wasted. Here, George Clooney leads an impeccable cast -- including Tom Wilkinson and Tilda Swinton in a terrific Oscar-winning performance, in a whip smart movie that is part character study, part commentary on corporate malfeasance. Clooney in particular stretches here as an actor in new and exciting ways, in what may be his best role to date, and the haunting final shot, fixed on his stoic face, is unforgettable.

Michael Clayton's last shot
3) Zodiac - Director David Fincher's ambitious recounting of the exhaustive media and police hunt for the infamous Zodiac killer in the late 60s and 70s is one the decade's great crime films. Its genuinely scary and labyrinthine plot keeps springing surprises on you. The performances are excellent across the board -- especially Mark Ruffalo as an exasperated cop -- and the atmosphere is note perfect. This is the perfect meeting of a filmmaker and material, and the film had me obsessively reading on the subject matter that inspired it for weeks after I saw it.

2) No Country for Old Men - The iconic Coen brothers finally won their first, well-deserved, Best Director Oscar for this grisly, existentialist film about a nobody (played by Josh Brolin) whose fateful decision to take some cash abandoned at a crime scene sets off a wild series of events and makes him a target for one of the most terrifying villains in film history -- a bowl cut wearing Javier Bardem. Like all Coen brothers films, it's deeply, darkly funny and has lots of culture-based, observational humor. But this Cormac McCarthy adaptation is also very serious and a mournful look at how our society has embraced chaos over chivalry. Tommy Lee Jones is genius in this movie, and deserved Oscar recognition.

1) There Will Be Blood - One of the towering films of the decade, and one of the best performances of all time -- Daniel Day-Lewis' profound, larger than life take on the fictional oil baron Daniel Plainview. Besides introducing the "I drink your milkshake" meme, this movie is a total middle finger to conventional movie making. The "hero" is relentlessly malicious, even mad, the story focuses on early 20th century oil prospecting and has a bleak, violent ending -- and yet its incredibly entertaining, incisive and smart. This movie about the dark heart of America has even more resonance today and will be a film worth studying in the years to come.

Monday, February 13, 2017

'Never Seen It' - Episode 13 - Getting trapped in 'The Cell'

Remember the serial killer genre? It had a real heyday in 1990s and early 2000s.

I think it, for the lack of a better phrase, died a slow death in part because they found an audience during a relatively peaceful time in American life, so we could invent fantastical killers to be way of. In the post-9/11 era, where real life terrorists and mass shooters are an unavoidable fact of life, these gory thrillers feel like they would rarely, if ever, fly now.

The Cell, a 2000 vehicle for Jennifer Lopez and Vince Vaughn, represents, to my mind, the beginning of the end of a certain kind of R-rated thriller aimed at adults.

My wife Liz and I had both never seen it -- in my case because I presumed it wasn't any good -- and so we've selected it for the most recent episode of our podcast, "Never Seen It," which is in the YouTube below:


Again, for the "Never Seen It" virgins these are our first impressions after having watched the movie separately for the first time. If you liked what you heard, check out takes on other genre films like Fear, Rising Sun, and Spy Kids.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

'John Wick: Chapter Two' is action catharsis for Trump era trauma

If you liked the first John Wick -- and I definitely did -- its sequel is bigger, bloodier and even more audacious than its predecessor.

It may be one of the most violent movies I've ever seen, and it helped me get out a lot of aggression I've been feeling since -- oh, well -- November.

Just like the first film, it's patently absurd. And yet it contains so much gritty, gruesome and most importantly, practical, action (it was directed by a veteran stunt man, and it shows), I found it pretty damn irresistible.

It also expands on the world established by the original John Wick, a shadowy society of assassins who check in and out of high-end international hotels known as the Continental, where the patrons are treated like high rollers and killing on the premises is strictly forbidden.

The films' running joke is that Wick is like the LeBron James of this game -- everyone knows him and respects his prodigious skills. Like any haunted action movie hero, he desperately wants to stop doing what he does best -- kill -- but circumstances keep dragging him back into the fight.

Keanu Reeves is uniquely suited to this role, easily his best since The Matrix. Even though he is in his early 50s now, he is still an impressive actor physically, and the minimalist dialogue his character delivers is perfect for his laconic range as an actor. He gets a lot of grief -- and he should never attempt an accent ever again -- but Reeves has been a solid star for years, and a totally credible action hero to boot.

In John Wick: Chapter Two he is really put through an incredible workout and in this age where slow motion CGI acrobatics have replaced bare fisted brutality, it was refreshing to see a genre film anchored by real stunts and authentic action.

Reeves as Wick
Ironically, prior to see this sequel -- which I watched with a packed, raucous and vocal crowd -- a trailer for the new Fast & Furious film came on. Now, don't get me wrong, barring terrible reviews -- I will most likely see that movie too. But I was disappointed to see how much that series has veered into more and more insane pyrotechnics. This one has a submarine in it.

John Wick: Chapter Two's pleasures are more old fashioned. The plot, as threadbare as it is, is your straightforward revenge epic, with a few exciting fresh twists baked in. Besides the upped cameo quotient (Common and Laurence Fishburne have supporting turns in this one), the movie makes no bones about the fact that it's bucking for a subsequent installment.

And I can't wait for more of the guns blazing and fast cars smashing. I have long been a sucker for a good, trashy, mindless action film. It's one of things that America does best. And right now, with much less than half the country suggesting we've regained something we never lost, it's nice to have visceral, cinematic proof of that.

If you would have told me ten years ago that a 50-something Keanu Reeves and 60-something Liam Neeson would be the premier action stars of the last decade, I would tell you that you were insane. But then again, who would have thought a 70-something reality star with no government experience would be elected president?

Friday, February 10, 2017

'Elle' is a glorious vindication of Paul Verhoeven's career

Elle
Director Paul Verhoeven has a reputation for making tawdry and salacious thrillers -- over-the-top, masculine, sexually graphic and violent -- but he never gets enough credit for how subversive and funny his work is, or how elegant and exciting.

His 2016 film Elle -- in which Isabelle Huppert gives a remarkable lead performance, one of the year's best -- feels like both a culmination of all his previous work and something quite refreshing at the same time. And it stands as proof that at 78, Verhoeven has more energy and ingenuity than many filmmakers half his age. The movie is part black comedy, part terrifying horror film -- it walks a dangerous balance between macabre fantasy and utterly plausible reality; it really is a fascinating marvel to behold.

Without spoiling too much, I will say that the film is about an aging (but still stunning) French video game impresario who is the victim of an assault, that either changes her or, depending on your point of view, brings some long dormant emotions out of her.

The movie keeps throwing you for a loop. It works as a thriller, but also at other times like a mystery. It is bitingly funny, thanks to Huppert's acidic delivery, and her game supporting cast. It has the requisite clever, subtle social commentary that all Verhoven's best films have (this time he mocks gamer culture as he did commercial advertising in Robocop and Starship Troopers), but he may never have directed a better performance in his career, than the fearless one Huppert gives here.

Viola Davis still gave perhaps my favorite female performance of the year in Fences. And I thought Natalie Portman's work in Jackie was a game-changer. But I put Huppert's work here right up there with them.

At 63, she throws herself in this very physically demanding and emotionally complex role and although she dominates almost every frame, she leaves you wanting more.

For Verhoeven, whose trademark has almost always been excess, this may be the most restrained movie he's ever made -- and yet it is plenty violent, visceral and audacious.

Of course, many of Verhoeven's American blockbusters, like Total Recall and Basic Instinct for instance, have been reappraised as the classics they deserve to be -- but the director will perhaps never live down the indignity of Showgirls.

However, I have read a compelling case arguing that while that infamous dud is indeed poorly acted and written, it's not badly directed -- and Verhoeven may have been standing outside the material and commenting on it in his own sly way while presenting the film as if it were entirely earnest.

Even if that is a charitable read, only great directors fail that miserably. And even genius directors have at least one huge folly on their resume.

Elle, however, will be remembered as a highlight.

Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Why we ought to show more love for Richard Dreyfuss

If you can somehow track down the obscure 1978 shaggy dog thriller The Big Fix, I strongly recommend it.  I was able to catch a screening of this overlooked gem and it reminded me of what a national treasure Richard Dreyfuss is. Although he is known as a veteran character actor now, for a time in the 1970s he was a major movie star.

And this film, which Inherent Vice owes a huge debt to, in many ways provides him with his quintessential role.

He plays Moses Wine, a wisecracking, pot smoking, private eye who has to think quick on his feet and unravel a labyrinthine plot. The movie, which both satirizes and pays homage to radical idealists of the 60s, is genuinely funny, fascinating and like Dreyfuss himself, surprisingly cool.

Dreyfuss is rarely thought of as a peer of Pacino, De Niro, Hoffman, Hackman and other 1970s-era movie acting giants, but his turns in the blockbusters American Graffiti, Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and this movie are among the decade's best.

I can only assume that his later career, more comedic work in hit movies like What About Bob? have clouded people's perceptions of him as an actor. Although his Oscar nominated performance in Mr. Holland's Opus -- which I have admittedly never seen -- is supposed to be a real tearjerker.

At his best, the diminutive, motor-mouthed Dreyfuss was terrific at playing not just the smartest guy in the room, but someone who was intensely aware of that fact that he is. His unconventional looks and nasal delivery are ripe for parody, but he brings the pathos just when his performances could veer into the silly.

Yes, he always had innate comic timing -- and I love his comedies like Stakeout and Down and Out In Beverly Hills -- but The Big Fix showed other facets to his persona I had not seen before. Sadly his prodigious drug abuse during this era sidelined him from further developing that aspect of his image.

Still, I'm so grateful to have discovered The Big Fix, which should be mentioned in the same breath as another great spin on the detective genre starring an unlikely Jewish sex symbol: The Long Goodbye with Elliot Gould. Like that movie, there are bursts of shocking violence, unconventional casting choices, incredible supporting turns and an oddball mix of mirth and menace.

Dreyfuss has a great running gag throughout the film -- he wears a cast on one forearm for the entire film. Whenever anyone asks him how he injured himself he delivers an explanation tailor made to whoever he is speaking to which feels improvised (for instance, he tells some Latin America activists he broke it defending immigrants at the border).

The real reason for this bandaged arm is not revealed until the end -- but before that charming and adorable conclusion (Wine often does his investigate work with his two young sons in tow) -- the movie is a real fun ride that keeps you guessing.

Kind of like the career of Dreyfuss himself.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

'I Am Not Your Negro' should be required viewing for everyone

When I was either a freshman or sophomore in high school, I can't remember which, a history teacher of mine was insightful enough to realize that I might be uniquely suited to do a project on James Baldwin.

I knew his distinctive face from somewhere, had seen glimpses of him, but assumed I had little in common with a chain-smoking, diminutive gay man. But once I started diving into his work -- and binge watching an excellent PBS American Experience documentary made about him shortly after his death -- I became hooked. I threw myself into the assignment like none other I'd ever had -- I was a B student who rarely applied themselves, I'm sad to say.

I was someone who always felt attracted to the fierce intelligence and courage of Martin Luther King Jr and Malcolm X, but like so many black Americans -- particularly those of us born in the wake of their tragic deaths -- I struggled with which of their approaches to seeking racial justice would have best suited me. In my mind, I could see the nobility and the shrewdness of Dr. King's non violent approach but my fiery nature and penchant for blunt speech put my heart firmly in Malcolm's corner.

With James Baldwin, I discovered a kindred spirit with a sensibility that was capable of fusing the two philosophies seamlessly. This was a man who was close to both Malcolm and Martin, saw both of their virtues and faults, and walked a line between having hope for white people, as well as disdain for them.

I became a Baldwin junkie. I devoured many of his works. For years I would have his quotes and picture displayed on my bedroom wall. He had a kind of searing intensity -- not a single word he spoke or wrote felt wasted or impulsive. I probably didn't realize it then, but in retrospect, he helped me realize that I wanted to be a writer.

So needless to say, I was pre-disposed to feel some type of way about I Am Not Your Negro, an acclaimed new (although it was technically released last year) documentary which weaves archival footage with modern images, and excerpts from an unfinished manuscript Baldwin was composing, which was an emotionally fraught recollection of the assassinations of Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr.

Samuel L. Jackson gives voice to these passages, and it's a different sound than I've ever heard from him -- weary, even tender. This is not the bombastic actor of the Capitol One commercials or far too many B-movies. This is a reminder that Jackson is an incredibly accomplished actor and he lends this project a great deal of gravitas.

One of the many unforgettable images from I Am Not Your Negro
It has arrived after two other masterful treatises on race -- Ava DuVernay's 13th and the epic, multi-part OJ: Made in America. It is impossible to quantify and compare these projects. I will only say that I Am Not Your Negro felt like the most personal to me. Perhaps, because of the focus on Baldwin, his exasperation, his biting wit -- especially in the face of self-congratulatory white liberals. What makes this film truly a masterpiece, and deserving of all the accolades it's getting, is how startlingly fresh and relevant all of his positions and observations continue to be.

I watched the film in a mostly white, older skewing audience. But there were a handful of young people there too, who I presume may not have been too familiar with Baldwin, or at least not seen some of clips in the film (which I was familiar with from my past). I watched as they nodded along with him or murmured their agreement during his indictment of white apathy, and conclusion that this blissful ignorance was the bane of black life.

There are many themes and ideas conveyed in this extraordinary movie -- but that may be the most prescient one. The modern racial divide is more about institutions not just words and actions, it's about denial, not necessarily inherent deviousness.

In one sequence -- which drew spontaneous applause in the audience I was in -- Baldwin debates an avuncular Yale professor on race matters. The professor makes an argument that persists to this day, on the right especially, that by speaking about "groups" and focusing on identity -- you are perpetuating divisions and exacerbating mutual mistrust.

With the precision of surgeon, Baldwin destroys his argument -- pointing out, quite rightly, that for so many people of color, this is a matter of life and death. Our lives are in danger because of white peoples' prejudices, their indifference, their cultural advantages and privileges. We don't have a choice but to assert our humanity and demand equality, because the other alternative is no future at all.

Baldwin concluded several decades ago that America was in for a reckoning for the racial sins of its past. He didn't know when or how, but he predicted that it would be bloody. The film's incendiary images of confrontational protests and police brutality from the past few years suggest perhaps that moment has finally come.

Baldwin at his most badass
For Americans, even those who wholeheartedly support the current occupant of the White House, this film should be required viewing, because it asks us to ask ourselves some important questions -- about why we have accepted the false notion that somehow people of color have less value, about why we choose to live such different lives in public and private, and why we have embraced a culture of solipsism at a moment when collective effort to fight global challenges has never been more vital.

I've always believed that the difference between a good film and a great film is it's ability to make you think, to linger with you once the credits roll. I Am Not a Negro is a film I won't soon forget, and one I feel I will need to revisit and have a dialogue with in the years to come.

Of course, like 13th and OJ: Made in America, it is just a movie, and one that will likely only reach a limited audience. The true ability to make change rests in people, the complex, sensitive, stubborn people of these United States.

It's kind of like losing weight. You can take pills and diet, but you aren't gonna lose the pounds unless you exercise. We can watch movies, vote for Obama, listen to socially conscious hip-hop, but until we start talking to each other, caring about each other and recognizing where we and our ancestors have erred, we are doomed to live in a vicious cycle of hate for the rest of our lives.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Final Oscar pick-a-palooza of 2017: Who should win Best Picture?

The following is the final installment of an ongoing (and fourth annual!) series of blog posts (co-starring my friend and fellow movie aficionado and blogger Brian Wezowicz) about the upcoming 2017 Academy Awards, honoring the best of Hollywood from last year. 

Check out our previous posts on the Best Supporting Actress race here, Best Supporting Actor here, Best Actor here, Best Actress here and Best Director here

Brian: It's time to make our picks for the big prize... Best Picture.

If you look at the list, you'll see a group of solid to spectacular films that represent just how good of a year (for films) that 2016 was.  In my opinion, there don't appear to be any notable snubs.  There was some grumbling about Deadpool being left off the list, but I think you and I both agree that it wasn't nearly as good of a film that people made it out to be.  Sure, it was funny and enjoyable, but it was done better by Ant-Man and doesn't deserve to be anywhere near this list.

Another surprise, in my opinion, was Hidden Figures. When i first saw the trailer for this film, it seemed like it would be similar in tone to your typical Disney feel-good "based on a true story" film.

However, as you mentioned in your review, it managed to rise above the typical feel good story and stand on its own merits.

If you look at the rest of the list, you'll see a good mix of films that managed to (in most cases) be both critical and commercial hits.  With that being said, I think it boils down to a two horse race between the Los Angeles homage, La La Land, and the generational masterpiece, Moonlight.  If past Oscars are any implication, I think La La Land will take home the top prize.  Hollywood loves to pat itself on the back, and it will be no different this time.

Here are the nominees:

Best Picture:
Arrival
Fences
Hacksaw Ridge
Hell or High Water
Hidden Figures
La La Land
Lion
Manchester by the Sea
Moonlight

Will Win:  La La Land.  This film is both a huge commercial and critical hit.  Throw in the Hollywood-centric theme and it should be a slam dunk.

Should Win:  Moonlight.  As you said in your review, Moonlight is a beautifully nuanced coming-of-age story.  It's a masterpiece that will stand the test of time.

Dark Horse:  I can't really see any of these other films competing, but if I had to make a guess, I would say Manchester By The Sea or Fences. Two films that are masterfully crafted and deliver stunning acting showcases for their stars.

I want to take the time to thank you for joining me again.  I look forward to this exchange every year. We should do something special for the 5th annual Oscar picks post next year!

Who takes home your top prize?

Manchester By the Sea
Adam: I will never, ever understand the preoccupation with Deadpool. Everytime I started to enjoy it I was put off by its pervasive smugness and self-satisfaction. To my mind, the only superhero film of the past several years that warranted Best Picture consideration was The Dark Knight. I think Best Picture nominees should be about something -- even if its abstract -- my favorite film of last year, the one I thought deserved to win it all -- Mad Max: Fury Road -- was ostensibly just a word class chase movie but it also had something to say about sexism, the scarcity of resources, the environment.

I am actually pretty happy with this group -- of course, I resent that Hollywood is scared of less obviously Oscar-ish fare like Green Room or The Witch. I will never stop singing the praises of 20th Century Women, a moving heartfelt movie that just touched me at the right time. Rogue One was a true epic, but if The Force Awakens didn't make it, I don't think this Star Wars side story would have.

I actually am thrilled to see Hidden Figures here. Yes, it's a crowd pleaser -- but for once, it's a worthy one. The movie was smart, slyly sophisticated and it tells a truly remarkable story that deserved a big screen homage. I'm actually not surprised it's here because it was one of the few critical hits to score commercially too. And had it earned more nominations, I could actually see it being one of the bigger threats to La La Land here, which has just buried its competition.

I've seen all the nominees except Lion (which I have heard mostly positive things about) and the Mel Gibson rehabilitation project Hacksaw Ridge. And my final answer is ... predictably, identical to yours.

Will win: La La Land. Like any big fat hit that eats up all the press and buzz, there has been an anti-La La Land storm brewing. The SNL sketch about cops interrogating a suspect for not loving it was a spot on early symptom of the backlash culture we live in now.

The one criticism I agree with -- that the light as air movie feels out of step with the bitterly contentious times we are all experiencing -- doesn't feel big enough to torpedo it. And as entertainment, as a production, the movie is virtually peerless. Movies don't get 14 nominations and NOT win. If it doesn't it'll be the biggest upset since Avatar lost to The Hurt Locker.

Should win: Moonlight. I think there are several really great films here. Hell or High Water is a masterpiece. As is Fences. I admire the hell out of Arrival, La La Land, Hidden Figures and Manchester by the Sea. But the movie that just keeps sticking in my mind, that really felt like a glimpse into the future of filmmaking -- it was Moonlight.

I only saw it once. It's not an easy movie to explain or simplify (which is perhaps why it hasn't caught on at the box office), but it was simply the most rewarding movie-going experience I had all year.

Dark horse: I wanna say Hidden Figures, because there are no caveats to liking it. Moonlight has the LGBT element, which could turn off prejudiced, older Oscar voters (see Brokeback Mountain's snub in 2006), La La Land has the issues I mentioned above.

But Manchester By Sea -- despite the issues Casey Affleck has -- enjoys a very big fanbase, and of all the other nominees not named Moonlight or La La Land, it's the one that I could see coming out of nowhere to win a lot of major awards, including this one.

See you next year Brian -- and hopefully in person, sooner!