by Philip Price Director: Ryan Murphy Starring: Meryl Streep, James Corden & Nicole Kidman Rated: PG-13 Runtime: 2 hours & 10 minutes I never saw an episode of “Glee,” yet it's the project that allowed Ryan Murphy to become "Ryan Murphy" in all the ways he's now heralded as the creator of all that is edgy (and a little self-important) which is kind of funny given what I've gleaned of “Glee” in the few actual clips I've seen of the show (AKA we're talkin' multiple football fields away from edgy). Never mind the fact Murphy has now become a bigger draw than the actual content on any film or television property he decides to slap his name on, but let us not focus on how much the man has turned himself into a brand all his own and spread himself so thi...I mean, how prolific he's become that there's no possible way his latest endeavor doesn't turn out rushed and rather uninspired, right? No, instead let's remind ourselves that the man who has more ongoing projects with Netflix than Kevin Hart has returned to the director's chair for his first feature in a decade and further, has returned to his musical theater roots! Whatever that might mean ... I said I haven't seen “Glee,” so ... is this a good or bad thing? Wherever you fall in regard to your respect for and/or expectation of Murphy's work one thing at least seems to be consistent throughout the man's work and that's his ability to construct atmosphere whether it be in a high school hallway, a haunted insane asylum, or middle-of-nowhere Indiana. With “The Prom,” Murphy has taken a screen adaptation of the Broadway comedy musical (that is full-on musical and mostly-on comedy) as penned by the writers of the original production (Bob Martin and Chad Beguelin) and stacked it to the brim with stars whereas the material is smart enough on its own terms to elicit just the right balance of rebellion and sweetness. It's not difficult to imagine then, why “The Prom” - a message musical with major bones to pick with intolerance - will go over smoother than butter on a fresh baked roll. Yes, even in what are apparently hostile Midwestern towns. It’s almost magical how inoffensively the writing deals with the offensiveness of some of the characters and further, is able to convey everything the film wants to say while maintaining a tone akin to the feel good movie of the summer, but this is why atmosphere is key: it chooses to radiate positivity even in the face of ugliness when it could just as easily bury itself in the genuine heartbreak of the story. Though a little long-winded with maybe an extra song or two that could have been cut for reasons of both efficiency and effectiveness, there is no denying the charm of “The Prom” and its pleasing blend of old school Hollywood musicals with modern ideals and meaning.
First performed four years ago in 2016 but premiering on Broadway in 2018 only to close less than a year later “The Prom” was expected to have a touring production rollout nationally in 2021, but ... you know ... global pandemic. I can't imagine that planned tour not being a response in some capacity to whatever this movie version might still become on Netflix, but I can imagine if it doesn't go forward as planned venues around the country might miss out on more ticket sales than even expected. That is to say that despite the perceived standardization of the material and mainstream-ness of the casting for their names rather than for the necessary talent to pull something like this off, Murphy's film is undeniably charming and appropriately moving. What is key in making what some (maybe many) will see as the "high-horse" perspective from which the story is told is that Murphy (and probably more so Martin and Beguelin) understands that in order to really change someone's heart you have to first either relate to them or make them laugh and while those opposed to homosexuality likely won't be relating too quickly to the flamboyant opening musical number they might be, like the movie itself, laughing at the stars of it. In essence, the film preaches this liberal message while poking fun at the liberals relaying said message. Further, we're meant to laugh at these spoiled and privileged celebrities due to their disconnection to middle class, middle American life who are not at all actually concerned with our heroine's plight, but only narcissistic enough to know it might earn them favorable media attention and help shed some light on if not re-vamp their failing careers. By making these supposed purveyors of justice flawed, entitled people there is less a sense of bias for who they are as individuals over those on the other side of the line forcing audiences from both sides to not necessarily look at who is championing what message, but instead focus on the message itself. To that extent, the film doesn't satirize the principles of the matter as these remain sincere given Martin and Beguelin base the very real victim of this very real hate around the most grounded character on screen: a well-meaning high school girl. It only helps that this strategy is fleshed out with over-the-top choreography, catchy songs, and production design for the ages allowing for a certain wholesomeness that one would hope might win over any cold-hearted prejudiced person by the end of the day. Like Nicole Kidman's character who blames her cockeyed optimism on having played Nellie Forbush in a dinner theater production of “South Pacific,” the hope of ridding this community, and by extension, the nation, of this cancer of intolerance might be too tall an order even for something as grand and surprisingly noble as “The Prom,” but ... one can hope. As stated, we begin in the heart of Broadway and are introduced to Dee Dee Allen (Meryl Streep) and Barry Glickman (James Corden) - two staples of the stage - as they attend opening night of their latest collaboration: an Eleanor Roosevelt musical. As interesting as the life of the longest-serving First Lady of the United States might be one might easily suspect that a staged, musical version of her life might not be the best route to take in dramatizing it. Dee Dee and Barry learn this pretty quickly as well after opening night rapidly evolves into closing night. While the speed at which the reviews pour in after their first performance might be scarier than the actual insults the critiques hurl, it becomes abundantly clear that this will be another in what is a string of flops for both Dee Dee and Barry. Drowning their miseries at Sardi's across the street they are joined by lifetime “Chicago” chorus girl, Angie (Nicole Kidman), and tended to by struggling actor and Julliard graduate Trent (Andrew Rannells). The conversation wastes no time in getting to the bottom line of how Dee Dee - a two-time Tony Award winner - and Barry - an out and out gay man who left his small Ohio town behind and never looked back - might resuscitate their flatlining careers. They all agree they need to tackle a cause and use their celebrity influence to reverse the perception they are little more than aging narcissists (which Dee Dee doesn't see a problem with). As a result, and thanks to some Twitter scrolling Kidman's Angie learns of a high school student in Edgewater, Indiana who has been banned from attending her prom with her girlfriend. Dee Dee and Barry immediately decide that this predicament is the perfect cause to help them resurrect their public images thus motivating them to hit the road with Angie and Trent in tow. Of course, no one in Edgewater, Indiana knows who these four Broadway stars are with the lone exception of the high school principal, Mr. Hawkins (Keegan-Michael Key), who is completely in support of his student being able to take whomever she wants to the prom and who may or may not, but definitely does have a huge crush on Streep's Dee Dee. It is here that we first meet the real star of our show, Emma Nolan (newcomer Jo Ellen Pellman), as she works to strike a balance between being neither a symbol nor a cautionary tale, but simply someone who is free to love who her "unruly heart loves" without the interference of those who don't understand it. As Emma and her girlfriend Alyssa (Ariana DeBose), but more so Emma, deal with the head of the PTA (Kerry Washington) who is threatening to cancel prom should Emma be allowed to attend the self-absorbed celebrities come to see that having their heart in the right place might actually matter as they realize truths about their own lives on their way to giving Emma a night where she can truly celebrate who she is. I hate to break it to you guys, but James Corden is super talented and he shines as "Uncle Barry" in Murphy's stage to screen adaptation. I note this right out of the gate because for one reason or another (most of those reasons likely being “Cats” or his general over-exposure, which I understand) the tide has completely shifted and turned against Corden over the course of the last couple of years. And while I'm afraid that tide will continue to shift for his portrayal of a gay man while he himself is not actually a homosexual, we once again must ask ourselves what the purpose of "acting" is. I understand the want for gay performers to have as much opportunity to play true to life roles as that of straight performers, but having a straight man fill a gay role isn't worth attacking someone personally - especially when they're as good as Corden is here. To back-up said claims would be to point out that in more than one scene Corden turns in just as emotionally charged a performance as he does excel in the musical numbers. Though his lone solo number, "Barry is Going to Prom," doesn't land near the top of the favorites list his contributions to the ensemble numbers are undeniable as they not only put on display his ability to communicate the necessary story points effectively through song, but his natural ability as a performer in general. In addition, the man delivers a handful of solid laughs to boot - one line of dialogue in particular will be used by me in response to any questions my wife asks from now on. Speaking to the biggest draw of the film though, the musical numbers go over incredibly well especially for this first-time listener. Of course, there's always some affinity or familiarity toward big, broad musical numbers as so many share a similar cadence in the performances or the same sounds from an instrumentation perspective, but the strong message and clever, self-deprecating lyrics add a strong layer to the familiar melodies. The aforementioned opening number titled "Changing Lives," isn't exactly the hook of a show-stopper it could be, but it plays it so safely down the middle that it braces viewers to know exactly what they're in for. Things begin to shift in a stronger direction once our Broadway stars land in Edgewater with Streep having her moment to shine, ironically, in, "It's Not About Me," while Key's adorable Mr. Hawkins beautifully explains how, "a distraction is momentary, (but) an escape helps you heal" in the low-key, "We Look to You." It isn't until the central showpieces that are, "You Happened," and "Tonight Belongs to You," that Murphy, his cast, choreographers, and set designers take things to a whole other level. It is through, "Tonight Belongs to You," that Pellman truly shines despite earlier tunes like, "Just Breathe" hinting at what's to come. "Tonight Belongs to You" also highlights the chemistry between Corden and Pellman's characters while giving supporting players like Logan Riley, Nico Greetham, Dominique Kelley, and Nathaniel J. Potvin their chance to shine as well. It is in this cumulative moment that the editing perfectly captures the impact of the scene as the tone of the music perfectly matches the emotional beats of the story; it's as equally magical as it is heartbreaking. Kidman also has a moment of her own in the B-side duet that is "Zazz" while Rannells performance of, "Love Thy Neighbor," might be my favorite of the entire production. Educating the small-minded small-towners of Edgewater about how much they "cherry pick the Bible" via a cheeky little Gospel-inspired number that simply pleads for the use of some common sense is lively, smart, and while the transition of the listeners may feel a little too easy the point is successfully made. In this same vein, while “The Prom” may largely be preaching to the choir Murphy's film exudes such joy and sweetness that one can hope it might also reach a few who haven't already converted.
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by Tyler Glover It’s the most wonderful time of the year where we all gather as families (though, unless they’re already in your bubble we don’t recommend that this year), decorate the house and tree with Christmas lights and ornaments and sit down in front of our television screens with a nice hot cup of cocoa to watch some of our many favorite Christmas movies. This year The Word is celebrating 12 Days of Christmas Movies with our favorites to watch around the happiest time of the year. I hope you enjoy these as much as we do and if you haven’t seen them be sure to seek them out. "Home Alone," directed by Chris Columbus and written by John Hughes, is one of the Christmas movies that is a must-watch every holiday season. Christmas is a magical time of the year that can also be chaotic, busy and hectic. However, it is also a time to truly sit back and reflect on what is important in life. Sometimes, we can forget if we are not careful. This is exactly what happens to eight-year-old Kevin McCallister. The night before his family is to travel to Paris for the holidays, Kevin, played by Macauley Culkin, gets upset over many trivial things. Out of his anger, he tells his mother he would be fine if he woke up the next day without a family. He ends up getting his wish when after a series of unfortunate events, the family accidentally leaves Kevin home alone. Kevin is getting a chance to see what his life would be like without them. While he is happy at first with his newfound freedom, Kevin eventually misses his family and remembers just how truly important they are to him. This message the film portrays so perfectly is what Christmas truly is about. The film also adds in a story with Kevin outsmarting two thieves, hilariously played by Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern, who attempt to rob his house. The traps he sets for them are some of the funniest moments in motion picture history. The bad guys get hit with paint cans, step on nails, and get hit with irons that fall down laundry chutes, among many others. This film is truly fun for the whole family! With many laughs and a message that truly highlights the spirit of Christmas, "Home Alone" has become a holiday classic that is essential holiday viewing for millions of families. “Home Alone” is streaming on Disney+ or you can rent it on Amazon Prime Video for $3.99. by Philip Price Director: Francis Lee Starring: Kate Winslet, Saoirse Ronan & James McArdle Rated: R Runtime: 2 hours While Lyme Regis, a coastal town in West Dorset that lies in Lyme Bay on the English Channel, may very well be a beautiful place to visit and/or live director Francis Lee (“God’s Own Country”) has made it seem as if it is anything but in his second feature film, “Ammonite.” It’s not only the location, but it's as if everything in Lee’s film was designed to match the color palette and tone of the fossils our main character, acclaimed self-taught paleontologist Mary Anning (Kate Winslet), found in the cliffs along the Channel in Southwest England: grey and dead. From the furniture and fixtures inside Mary’s shop she now supports herself and her ailing mother with to the weather that constantly seems to be sweeping up on shore. “Ammonite” is grey, cold and dreary to a fault. It’s almost as if Lee was so hell-bent on having the audience mentally inhabit the mind of Anning that he determined it best to have the pacing, aesthetic and attitude mirror that of Anning’s daily routine, which is to say it's all exceptionally tedious. Tedious that is, until the narrative finds it surprisingly convenient to usher in an actual plot that couldn’t feel less natural or organic to the aforementioned tone set thus far. Strangely convenient in that the type of story this film wants to tell is abundantly clear and thus everything that happens seems to cater to this very particular set of circumstances; the problem being that as such developments unravel it becomes clear the depths of the core relationship won’t generate a strong enough investment to make such conveniences forgivable. It would almost be easier to dismiss the film as pure Oscar bait had it more scenes featuring characters explicitly yelling at one another about their forbidden love, but Lee’s intentions are more honorable than this. Though I've yet to see the filmmaker's debut feature that put him on the map from 2017 it would seem Lee was very much interested in making a similarly compelling if not subdued drama for his follow-up. Still, outside a single night of passion, “Ammonite” remains a somber and sometimes even dull experience that never fully lands the complicated and conflicted heart at the root of the dynamic the film seeks to establish and explore.
The days of her famed discoveries behind her, Anning now hunts for common fossils to sell to rich tourists. One such tourist, Roderick Murchison (James McArdle), arrives in Lyme on the first leg of a European geological tour with his young wife Charlotte (Saoirse Ronan). Charlotte is recuperating from a personal tragedy, but her husband seems insensitive to the amount of time it's taking her to deal with as much as he doles out thoughtful and delicate gems such as, "It’s not the right time to make another baby!" and "I want my bright, funny, clever wife back!" Frustrated with Charlotte's "needs" and hopeful to shadow Anning in her day to day, Roderick offers to compensate the paleontologist for her time and troubles should he be afforded the opportunity to see her work. Winslet's Anning agrees - albeit begrudgingly - as she is the type of person who appreciates a routine and is hesitant to any change should it threaten the quiet contentedness of her existence; thus the reason she likely finds peace and satisfaction in digging up the past: there’s opportunity for discovery, but little chance of altering her own life. In the brief time Murchison spends with Anning he seems more intent on finding the right time to ask her further favor than he does observe her technique, but as a result of his insistence and Anning being unable to refuse further, reliable employment Charlotte is entrusted to Anning's care for the remainder of her husband's scheduled tour. Murchison seems to hope that with Charlotte accompanying Anning on her daily expeditions that it might inspire a renowned brightness in Charlotte, but this really just feels like an excuse for her husband to not have to deal the grief Charlotte continues to carry. If Murchison possessed the slightest bit of sympathy or compassion he might glean that Mary Anning is an individual as lonely and isolated as his wife, but there is little regard for the "feelings" of these women in 1840s England and thus they are essentially left alone to fend for themselves. Relentlessly passionate about her work, Anning has as little time to deal with Charlotte's dispirited state as Murchison. Charlotte, on the other hand, is a woman completely defeated. While Anning is set in her ways and resistant to any type of interference in the life she's built Charlotte doesn’t care to live a life any further. Charlotte does little more than lay in bed all day and furthermore, doesn’t care what others think of her or who she offends with the expression of her frustrations. Needless to say, the two women clash given their shared affinity for defiance. That being said, it’s genuinely difficult to see how - upon the first interaction between the two of them - that any common ground might be found never mind a relationship formed. Therefore, it would be to the film’s credit if it made us believe in their bond in the slightest. Still, despite their differences, Mary and Charlotte discover they can offer one another what they've both been searching for which is, in the broadest sense, company while more specifically being something akin to companionship. This glimmer of a shared loneliness is the beginning of a passionate and all-consuming love affair that certainly defies all social bounds of the time and naturally alters the course of both of these women's lives. Due to the tenderness each of these women seek to be shown and the simple ask of being listened to and understood Lee makes it difficult for viewers to not want to naturally sympathize with his characters, but it is in the building and melding of these social spheres and personalities that the film can't quite successfully execute the closing of the chasm it has set-up between our lovers. It’s nearly 45 minutes into the film before any real sign of life from Charlotte is detected and by default, within Ronan’s performance as well. It is shortly after this that any sign of actual compassion or emotion from Winslet’s character is shown as well. It is from this point on - with only 75 minutes remaining - that Lee must successfully show the honeymoon phase of a relationship before beginning to evolve it further. Funnily enough, due to the fact both characters have remained so guarded up until this point in the story we, as viewers, find ourselves yearning to know more about the women as individuals rather than who they are or what they embody as a couple. Mary and Charlotte's love affair is largely not able to be seen as much more than that given the time period and thus this narrative thread is taken with less sustainability (as unfortunate as that is) than a portrait of Anning might have been with her interest in women being only another mysterious facet in the reality of who Mary Anning truly was. As Lee has made the love story the central focus though, the film becomes a repetitive endeavor that first begs the question of if there is anything more to it than Charlotte being depressed and Mary being overly serious rather than exploring if Anning ever shared any of the pain Charlotte is presently experiencing or if there was a life for Anning prior to throwing herself into her work and caring for her sick mother. Even as the film moves into its second hour with repeated scenes of Winslet and Ronan making love with one another we never buy into or are invested in the relationship as anything more than a pain or stress reliever for the two of them. Dustin O'Halloran and Volker Bertelmann's score is largely as melancholy as the film itself, but there are at least hints of emotion in the music that the passion on screen simply isn't able to replicate. “Ammonite” is a profoundly quiet film, not one that resonates in the way it’s meant to entertain or serve as a piece of art that inspires repeat viewings, but rather it feels more like an under-seen pearl in Winslet's filmography that she'll be happy to reference one day; a small, but meaningful notch in a consistently bold career. To speak to Winslet’s performance though, is to zero in on Anning’s arc of beginning at ground zero when it comes to emotional availability and building to a moment where we can feel her yearning for something she wouldn’t dare admit or share with anyone else - including herself. As it pertains to Ronan we have become accustomed to seeing the young actress in personable, outgoing roles as of late in films like “Lady Bird” and “Little Women,” but recalling the likes of “Brooklyn” or even “Atonement” allows the knowledge that Ronan can lend the more introverted Charlotte the capability to contain more of the character's emotion within and express it solely through body language and facial expressions rather than the general attitude the character expresses. Charlotte's mentality does begin to alter and shift and her disposition lighten as her relationship with Anning becomes more fulfilling (with her wardrobe following suit), but as quickly as the relationship begins it feels it has come to an end. Restrained in every way and as tightly wound as the corsets Ronan's Charlotte sports, “Ammonite” becomes as frustrating for its audience as the state of the world is for the lovers at the center of the story. Such frustration is only elevated to disappointment given the clear wealth of talent and potential working on a project that clearly wants to pull viewers in with the most personal and human of experiences only to result in a distant and emotionally vacant one. by Philip Price Director: Lawrence Michael Levine Starring: Aubrey Plaza, Sarah Gadon & Christopher Abbott Rated: R Runtime: 1 hour & 44 minutes “Black Bear” may as well have been called “Bat Shit” because that's how crazy it is. Everything worthwhile that could be said about Lawrence Michael Levine's film almost can't be discussed for fear of spoiling any aspect of what lies beyond the title screen, but I'll do my best. For starters, “Black Bear” is seemingly about the creative process with the question of, "how far is too far?" looming over every facet. Levine is an actor, director and writer himself as well as being married to fellow multi-hyphenate Sophia Takal, which undoubtedly inspired certain details of the film if not having been based outright on actual conversations the couple has had. Add to the mix Aubrey Plaza who not only takes the lead role here, but the role of producer as her relationship with writer/director Jeff Baena no doubt assisted in her understanding of if not being completely empathetic to the material and her character of Allison. What is then immediately fascinating about “Black Bear” is that despite the large possibility of self-indulgence or - as Sarah Gadon's Blair might say, "the large possibility of solipsism" – “Black Bear” somehow manages to steer clear of its own self-satisfaction by essentially becoming something of a satire not necessarily of the people, but more of the circumstances they've driven themselves to in pursuit of this creative endeavor they've put so much stock in. What's curious is that said creative endeavors and the process such require in order to fully produce them are, by virtue of the fact they're existence is only justified by an individual's existential need create them, essentially exercises in some form of narcissism themselves. Does that then make “Black Bear” Levine's attempt to try and figure out his own level of self-awareness and assure those in the audience that no matter the level of commitment and passion poured into his projects that at the end of the day he's blatantly aware his work could have as little an impact as it could a large one? It kind of feels that way as everything about Levine's third narrative feature would seemingly mark it as your standard indie hipster typically found at Sundance, but by nature of the exploration taking place “Black Bear” more intends to dissect what it means to exist as someone that constantly tries to subvert the mainstream while still appealing to it in real-life situations. How do we best embody and represent our beliefs through our actions? Why do we always want what we don't have? How far is too far? Levine asks a lot of questions (many more than he answers) with “Black Bear” and though the ultimate theme, intention and even point of the film isn't all that clear it still makes for a fascinating experiment in introspection, nonetheless.
To discuss what is literally happening in “Black Bear” isn't as interesting as what is really going on in the film though, which is mostly subterranean. To understand the context of what is happening, at least in the beginning, is to understand that Plaza's Allison is an actor turned writer/director that has apparently made a few "small, unpopular films" and is currently suffering from writer's block. Not coincidentally, the film begins with Allison sitting on a dock seemingly in complete isolation only to soon venture back to a nearby, picturesque estate where she sits down and begins writing. A title card in the style of a handwritten notepad appears and reads, "Part One: The Bear in the Road." It is in the following scenes we learn Allison's bio and intentions for escaping to the Adirondacks Mountains via questions from the current resident and host at the emerging bed and breakfast, Gabe (Christopher Abbott). Gabe and his girlfriend, Blair (Gadon), have moved to the estate as it has been in Gabe's family for years, but his family has been unable to sell the property and they have volunteered to help keep it up. This turn of events was somewhat serendipitous and other parts paralyzing for the couple who weren't exactly succeeding in their individual efforts back in Brooklyn. Gabe was/is a musician who brags about continuing to receive royalty checks, but who in reality couldn't buy gas station bubble gum with what he's making from what he wants to do with his life. Blair has also become unable to work or pursue her passion of being a professional dancer due to the fact she is now pregnant. It's evident from the first frame they share together that Abbott's Gabe and Plaza's Allison share something of a bond that creates almost immediate tension forcing the dynamic into what are needless to say: interesting and sometimes very dark places. Levine, who is also credited as the sole screenwriter, has placed Gabe and Blair at a point in their relationship when Allison arrives where every line of dialogue that comes from one of them is contested by the other. It's extremely awkward which is kind of the point as Levine's dialogue-heavy first act forces these strangers to stubbornly try and click as friends, but simply - can't. It's abundantly clear Gabe and Blair don't go well together or more that they are completely different people and that Allison is much more interested in Gabe than the overtly opinionated Blair. The saving grace from the tension and downright uncomfortable tone set by Gabe and Blair's constant bickering is Allison's dry wit via Plaza's trademark caustic delivery as it only enhances said awkwardness, confusing the tone of the situation. There's one moment specifically when Blair refers to Allison as a "real artist" in front of Gabe who has just made the effort to defend the credibility of his musicianship that sucks the air out of the room as it seems Blair is no longer simply sticking to her guns and speaking her mind, but intentionally making slights at Gabe in order to infuriate him. The sting is real. With the dynamic established to dryly amusing effect and given the parameters of the scenario everything going on in “Black Bear” would then make the casual viewer believe they know exactly where this familiar love triangle narrative is headed. Despite the seeming predictability of the situation or likely because of it, it's at about the 45-minute mark that Levine then escalates things in ways that don't allow either his writing or the viewer to simmer on the guilt of the situation, but instead assaults his audience with consequences and ensuing actions head on. While this doesn't really illuminate what “Black Bear” is about or what it means to discuss what it does make clear is the temperament the film holds as it pulls no punches and doesn't for a second underestimate itself even as it uses its structure to manipulate the hell out of its audience. This is to say that as another title card in the style of a handwritten notepad appears and reads, "Part Two: The Bear by the Boat House" there is no telling where things are headed...or why they're headed there. “Black Bear” immediately feels both like the most indie of indie films you'll ever see given many of the dispositions of the characters on screen as well as an assault on the subgenre thanks both to Levine's awareness and ability to hone in on the specifics of his experiences. Cutting through the bullshit of your standard Sundance programmer that tries to summarize its thoughts on the state of the world and provide some context or commentary through a single example, “Black Bear” instead goes for the throat by not only turning expectations around completely, but again - calling the characters and their egocentric tendencies out. Ultimately though, what is there to gain from spending two hours consuming something if - by the end of it - one is left to wonder what they are meant to take away from it? As nice as a thoughtful takedown of prima donnas typically is, there is obviously more to what Levine is wanting to do here than assess the seriousness with which "artists" take themselves. A level of indulgence is obviously necessary in order for anyone to be able to express themselves in a creative fashion, but the trick is to do so without the effort seeming to be an exercise in vanity and more an endeavor of earnestness. Even in the (somewhat creative) process of writing film critiques there must exist a certain amount of arrogance in thinking anyone might be interested in reading your nicely organized and concise brain puke about someone else's art, but it is running through this exercise around this film in particular that I've come to understand the film’s intentions better. Or at least I think I have. It's a coping mechanism, essentially. Creativity or the ability to be able to express yourself in this manner is a way of both dealing with and healing from whatever it is an individual might need to work through. It's therapeutic in a sense in that whatever darkness or pain might have come about or been experienced in life there is an option through which one is able to turn that around, process it, or even just simply share it in a way that's more productive than wallowing and/or wasting away because of said experiences or darkness. While the thesis coming into the writing of this review was that Levine might be attempting to gauge a balance in his life between genuinely understanding the world rather than processing his own views of it the realization I've come to is that no matter the impact of his or any of our work such expression needs to be looked at with a sense of optimism and hope rather than being dismissed as self-involved. After all, these are all just feelings we're trying to share with one another. by Philip Price Director: Alan Ball Starring: Paul Bettany, Sophia Lillis & Peter Macdissi Rated: R Runtime: 1 hour & 35 minutes Everyone needs an Uncle Frank, but everyone deserves an Uncle Wally.
Writer/Director Alan Ball’s “Uncle Frank” is obviously a very personal story as it is somewhat based on his own father’s experiences, but what makes the film so transcendent is how as much as I was invested in the drama of the characters on screen, Ball’s film made me look deep inside my own soul and reflect on shortcomings that hadn’t even occurred to me until experiencing his film. Being raised in Central Arkansas under the traditional thumb of the Catholic Church I had no idea what “gay” even meant until junior high or high school, so I sure as hell didn’t have any idea I might have had a gay family member. It wasn’t until 2013 at the age of 26 that I realized my own uncle had been keeping a secret from his family for what was at least my entire life and probably much longer. I didn’t have a chance to speak to my uncle before he passed due both to unreconciled family drama and his deteriorating health. I’m also positive I said some things in front of him in my youth that would disappoint and destroy me now. “Uncle Frank” made me wish I’d been more like Sophia Lillis’ Beth. It made me wish I’d been a better person, really. Both more understanding in my youth and more willing to strike up a conversation with my uncle in the brief window of time I had with him as an adult. I wish I’d talked to him enough to know he was hurting or hiding something, but I never bothered to ask - I never made a point to consider his life outside of what it meant to my own. While the pain of this regret is new, deserved, and more devastating than I would have expected given the circumstances surrounding my uncle’s death I also feel indebted to “Uncle Frank” for helping me realize how much I’ve grown and how much growing I still have left to do. Cheers to Ball for the way in which he structures the unraveling of Frank’s past, compassionately framing how Frank became the man he is when we’re introduced to him. Cheers to Paul Bettany, Peter Macdissi and Lillis for genuinely strong performances and a chemistry that would make anyone want to join the trio on a road trip. And cheers to the appropriately named Aunt Butch for being capable of more than we – and seemingly Frank – ever expected her to be. Also, Margo Martindale. “If being curly-headed is something that gets passed down, why not…” What a treasure. “Uncle Frank” is streaming on Amazon Prime Video. by Philip Price Director: David Fincher Starring: Gary Oldman, Amanda Seyfried & Lily Collins Rated: R Runtime: 2 hours & 11 minutes I must admit I feel like something of a fraud even attempting a critique of a film so steeped in not only cinematic history, but history in general. Yes, I've seen “Citizen Kane” more than once and I've listened to season upon season of Karina Longworth's You Must Remember This podcast and specifically the series of MGM stories that centered on Louis B. Mayer’s rise and fall, yet somehow director David Fincher's “Mank” still feels so drenched in the world it re-creates that it's difficult to imagine being able to gain all the film has to offer after only a single viewing. As it were, Fincher's latest is likely too inside baseball for anyone outside of those that worship at the altar of cinema, but what might prove to be the most fascinating aspect of “Mank” is whether or not the core struggles of the main character appeal to a viewer who has no idea who someone like Irving Thalberg - or for that matter, Herman J. Mankiewicz - was. Naturally, those who do in fact worship at said altar are largely going to adore Fincher's latest exercise in clinical cinema that this time not only executes itself with profound professionalism and skill a la all of Fincher's work, but does so as it examines the "golden age" of the industry. The difference will be whether the details included and the approach taken will be enough to enthrall those already on board for a "movie about the movies" or if, while appreciating all of those things, the admiration for what Fincher has accomplished outweighs what is genuine love for it. That is to say, those on the outside looking in who come across “Mank” as they scroll through Netflix will either continue to scroll past it based on the poster alone or become fully engulfed in the confusion of the time and place Fincher drops his audience into should they be brave enough to press play. As an individual who admittedly knows more than the average Netflix subscriber, but a lot less than a lot of other people about the history of Hollywood, “Mank” feels akin to a highly-stylized and extremely well performed re-enactment. Fincher's film clearly gets everything it possibly could right about the history, the costumes, and the character traits yet there is little that resonates emotionally. Never mind the fact Herman Mankiewicz is the only credited co-screenwriter to Orson Welles on what many consider the greatest movie ever made as Fincher's intent wasn't to make a movie about the making of “Citizen Kane,” but rather to capture the essence of a process and a person and leave the audience with a little more context and insight than they might have had before. As Gary Oldman's Mank says early on in the film though, "You can't capture a man's life in two hours, all you can hope is to leave an impression of one," and while “Mank” may not necessarily provide the catharsis one desires come the time the credits roll it undoubtedly leaves a strong impression. As it states in the opening text of “Mank,” Welles was only 24 when he was given carte blanche by the studios to make any movie he wanted which led him to Herman Mankiewicz, a journalist turned critic turned screenwriter who had an idea. That idea was to take on original media mogul William Randolph Hearst as portrayed here by Charles Dance. As Jack Fincher's (the director's late father) screenplay shows us, Mankiewicz had been to plenty of parties thrown by Hearst experiencing first-hand the incredible excess the man reveled in, but more importantly - it afforded Mank the ability to gain a very specific understanding of this world in which he would come to pull the curtain back on. “Citizen Kane,” in case one is unaware, is Welles' 1941 masterpiece about the rise and fall of ruthless capitalist Charles Foster Kane and it is no secret that Mank largely based the character on Hearst who had developed the nation's largest newspaper chain and media company. “Citizen Kane” is a cinematic landmark and few will dispute that, but it is the insight into the process of Mank fusing his frustrations with men like Hearst who used their power to control people and silence skeptics with that of his own, personal power in the written word that Fincher's film seeks to inspect. At the same time, “Mank” is also simply about the man after which it is named as - given his incredible circumstances of being the writer hired to produce a screenplay for Hollywood's wunderkind in less than 90 days - Herman Mankiewicz was a man largely at opposition with those in power in Hollywood. By all accounts, Mankiewicz was a staunch anti-communist, but an even more ardent anti-fascist who believed in the ideals of, for lack of a better phrase given some circles have made the term a little too taboo, "social justice". To put it plainly, there would be little debate as to where Mankiewicz would fall in our modern world as he was certainly a progressive and thus the reason for his support of Upton Sinclair who ran for Governor of California in 1934. Hollywood studio bosses like Mayer (portrayed in the film by Arliss Howard) and the ever-ambitious Hearst unanimously opposed Sinclair and pressured their employees to vote for incumbent Governor Frank Merriam going so far as to make false propaganda films attacking Sinclair. Fincher's film delves into these more politically charged motivations not necessarily to deliver a history lesson, but to further flesh out the type of man Mank was in the time he was alive. Are these actions against Sinclair what motivated Mank to write “Citizen Kane”? Who knows, but what the film makes evident about the guy is that it was to Mank's credit that everyone knew he disliked the way in which Hearst and Mayer swung their influence, but was invited to their parties, nonetheless. Mank was well-known for being a drunk gambler who hated himself, but who everyone else still wanted to be around. He was a character as far as anyone that knew him seems to recall and thus the reason, he's seemingly been made into the titular character in a feature film. That's quite an accomplishment on its own, but this also seems to be the reason Fincher was pulled into the story as opposed to being entranced by the idea of making a black and white period piece that romanticized the era. As the talented yet tormented writer (aren't they all) Oldman dutifully personifies the balance of being the smartest and wittiest guy in the room while the majority of the time also being the drunkest. Does the elder Fincher's screenplay sometimes veer a little too much into that writerly territory of making its protagonist too much of "caricature" by always having him be the quick-witted comic relief who doles out truths no matter how difficult they might be to hear with no one else standing a chance? Most definitely, but Oldman - with his surly yet charming demeanor - is able to make even the most heightened of conversations at least feel a little more honest. This goes for the rest of the cast as well, but specifically to both Amanda Seyfried and Lily Collins who transform what could have otherwise been either a fairly thankless role or a pale imitation into two platonic relationships or, as Mank's wife - "Poor Sara" (Tuppence Middleton) - referred to them, "platonic affairs" that lend better understanding to how Mank was able to operate the way he did without ever coming off as ugly or mean despite his addictions. Collins plays Rita Alexander who is largely relegated to the role of secretary in the history books, but in Fincher's film seems to serve more the role John Houseman (Sam Troughton) is said to have played in the actual screenwriting process. Alexander is brought in to transcribe and keep Mank on task (and off the bottle) with Collins ably going toe to toe with Oldman as she too strikes a fine symmetry between someone as fascinated with the world behind the picture shows as they are well-informed about real-world events. Speaking of the world behind the moving pictures though, it is Seyfried that will garner much of the awards discussion for completely embodying real-life starlet Marion Davies. Seyfried resembles Davies not only in physical appearance, but as a woman no one gave a second thought to yet leaned on her talent and intelligence when it mattered most. Davies was the unhidden mistress of Hearst who began bankrolling Davies' films in order to promote her as a more serious actress. In the first interaction between Mank and Davies on the set of one of these films Fincher immediately treats us to the lightning in a bottle dynamic Mank and Davies possessed that continues throughout the film and becomes all the more layered given Mank's disposition of being both indoctrinated into this world as well as being the one who would ultimately expose it. Of course, Fincher's technical prowess is as highly regarded as his ability to effectively convey a story in the most stylish of fashions and that certainly doesn't change with “Mank.” If nothing else, the style of this film - while unlike anything Fincher has done before - is among one of the most vital and impressive elements of the final product. Strangely, “Mank” feels both like it couldn't be further from your typical Fincher film as black and white period pieces aren't exactly what come to mind when you think of the man behind “Fight Club,” “The Social Network” and “Gone Girl,” but also completely in his wheelhouse given it centers on such a notorious personality working to get to the bottom of something that might allow their life to click into place as they always expected (this brings “Zodiac” to mind). Fincher's style is meticulous in ensuring it fits the era as he brought on “Mindhunter” collaborator Erik Messerschmidt to capture the gorgeous monochrome look of the film as well as utilizing the same type of deep focus camera work and bold lighting techniques that use shadow to direct the audience's attention as Welles did in ‘Kane.’ Hell, even some of the special effects were done in the fashion Welles would have constructed certain sequences as Fincher apparently built out sets with matte paintings rather than using green screen and digital re-creations. Fincher also turned to frequent collaborators Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor for the film's score which was composed only from instruments that existed during the time the film takes place and honestly...it's kind of perfect. Much like the film itself, Ross and Reznor's score begins by being what one expects it to be only to grow into something wholly unexpected and completely its own. It's not only the score though, but the sound of the film as well as sound designer and supervisor Ren Klyce somehow managed to make the film sound as if it’s echoing off the walls of a cavernous movie theater; as if everything has been recorded with old equipment and compressed until it's indiscernible which era it was actually recorded in. This analog sound design combined with the softened resolution of the picture plus the scratches, digs, and cue marks that are integrated into the images all add to the authenticity that what we're seeing very well could have been made some 80-to-90 years ago. It is due to this level of care that, despite the initial absence of a strong emotional resonance, “Mank” will live on past our one and done viewing cycle we feel obligated to in this day and age where there's a tsunami of content constantly washing over us. Both David and Jack Fincher's “Mank” is a film that will have you in awe over the period detail, luscious cinematography, and first rate performances, but it's ultimately not just a portrait of one of the most influential screenwriter's of Hollywood's golden age, but the story and study of a man who was at the top of his game, shared the wealth, but because he hated himself and had an addictive personality that almost dismissed the work he did and the talents he possessed until finally realizing a piece of his work might actually matter and thus deciding to fight for a little bit of the credit for crafting it. It's the story of a man pushing a rock up a hill in gravel, but man is the struggle worth it as that rock leaves one hell of an impression. "Mank" is streaming on Netflix.
by Philip Price Directed: Clea DuVall Starring: Mackenzie Davis, Kristen Stewart & Dan Levy Rated: PG-13 Runtime: 1 hour & 42 minutes On the twelfth day of Christmas
my Hulu sent to me: 12 Bad Lies by Abby 11 Harping's by Harper 10 Guys John is Tracking 9 Killer Sloane Stares 8 Holiday Tips from Tipper 7 Riley Rescues 6 Ways Twins are Creepy 5 Jane Fantasy Novels! 4 Hometown Friends a Calling 3 Daughters Bonding 2 Lezzies Hiding and Clea DuVall bringing it all home with a candid and charming twist on the Hallmark Christmas movie formulaaaaaaaaaaaaa............yeah. by Julian Spivey Major movie industry and streaming industry news broke today when Warner Bros. announced they will stream movies on HBO Max the same day they drop in theaters in 2021. It’s news that could potentially change the future of movie watching in this country and could help spell the end of movie theaters, after COVID-19 has already dealt such a harsh blow to our nation’s major theater chains. Warner Bros., the world’s second-largest movie studio, had previously announced in November a plan to debut the much-anticipated “Wonder Woman 1984” on HBO Max on Christmas Day, while the film was simultaneously premiering in open theaters throughout the country and would remain on the streaming service for a month. “Wonder Woman 1984” would be available for all subscribers of HBO Max at no additional charge, unlike the recent release of “Mulan” on the Disney+ streaming service. The decision was made in part by how poorly Christopher Nolan’s high profile film “Tenet” did at the box office upon its release late this summer, with many theaters across the country being closed due to COVID-19 and many moviegoers being too afraid to venture out for fear of catching the virus. Among the high profile Warner Bros. films that will be dropping on HBO Max in 2021, as well as debuting in theaters, are “Matrix 4,” “Dune,” “Space Jam: A New Legacy,” “The Suicide Squad,” “In The Heights” and “Judas and the Black Messiah.” Many, if not all of these, films would be expected to draw fairly big numbers upon theatrical release. All of these films will be available for one month upon their release on the service. According to CNN Business, shares of movie theater chains like AMC and Cinemark fell 15 percent upon this morning’s news breaking. So, how will this hinder the future of movie theaters in this country? For years things like streaming services and the ability to view films on large television screens with surround sound getting more and more affordable have led to box office numbers falling, but giant tentpole releases – particularly if they included a superhero or were part of a long and storied franchise like “Star Wars” – would still draw record numbers of audience members. But this is because fans of such franchise and series are ravenous and don’t want to wait for months for a film to arrive on a streaming service or for rent or purchase for fear of missing out or being spoiled. But many fear if films are being simultaneously released as Warner Bros. will be doing on HBO Max, which debuted in late May, it will kill the theater experience because why would you pay $10-plus per ticket and high concessions prices when you can just stay home with your cheaper snacks and stream it from the comfort of your own couch or bed without any distractions like chatty movie goers. I’ll be the first to admit the additional movies we’ve seen added to streaming services has been good for me this year. I’m not going out to my local theater to see anything right now. Some movies coming to streaming has even allowed me to view movies that I almost certainly wouldn’t have gone to the cinema to see. But I do worry as a movie lover that Warner Bros. and HBO Max striking this deal, along with the on-going pandemic potentially shuttering some of these money-bleeding theater chains for good, could spell the end of movie watching as we know it. The days of going to a theater to watch a new film may go the way of the dodo, as ridiculous as it would’ve sounded to me even at the beginning of this year. Sure, there are always going to be people who want the theater experience, but I’m not sure it’ll be enough folks to make theaters a profitable business. Yes, I enjoy seeing a movie at the local theater, but honestly if deals like Warner Bros. have made with HBO Max become commonplace, I’d take the convenience of watching a movie for much cheaper at home. It’s kind of like how subscribing to Spotify has made me a worse music listener. I love albums, but Spotify makes it so convenient to listen to songs more so than albums. My extensive vinyl record collection is likely crying and shuttering in fear in the corner of that room in my house where all the stuff we don’t really use, but don’t want to get rid of live. Movie theaters were dealt a bad hand this year that I don’t think any of us could’ve foreseen. And movie distribution companies looking for a way to survive and get their product out might end up killing the way we’ve always seen movies in order to survive. Or maybe deals like this will be a short term thing and we’ll be back to normal once a vaccine for COVID-19 is widely available – if those theater chains can remain alive in the meantime. by Julian Spivey “Mank” (Netflix) – Friday, December 4 “Mank” is the type of movie that really makes a classic film buff giddy with excitement. It’s the story of screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz, who may or may not have written the majority of “Citizen Kane,” considered by the American Film Institute to be the greatest American film ever made, what inspired him to do so and the battle with that film’s director Orson Welles over a writing credit. “Mank” is director David Fincher’s (“Fight Club,” “The Social Network”) first film since 2014’s “Gone Girl” and is already considered by many as a possible front-runner for Best Picture at the 2021 Academy Awards. “Mank” stars Oscar-winner Gary Oldman in the titular role with Amanda Seyfried drawing Oscar buzz for her supporting role. “Sound of Metal” (Amazon Prime) – Friday, December 4 Director Darius Marder’s “Sound of Metal” stars Emmy-winner Riz Ahmed (“The Night Of”) as a heavy metal drummer who’s beginning to lose his hearing and the struggles of accepting his hardship. Critics have been raving about Ahmed’s performance and he could be in the running for a Best Actor Oscar nomination as a result. “Sound of Metal” won the Golden Eye for Best Film in the International Feature Film Competition category at the Zurich Film Festival. “Mad About You” Complete Series (Amazon Prime) – Tuesday, December 8 In a month that is featuring numerous premieres of films with Oscar-buzz surrounding them (literally everything else on this list this month) it’s an NBC sitcom from the ‘90s that’s among the most exciting things coming to streaming for me. I absolutely love “Mad About You,” which starred Paul Reiser and Helen Hunt and ran originally from 1992-1999. The first few seasons have the series have been streaming on Amazon Prime Video for a while now, but for the first time the entire series will be available in one place – and most excitingly for me – this includes the revival season that aired on the little viewed Spectrum Originals late last year that many of us “Mad About You” fans have been waiting desperately to see. “Let Them All Talk” (HBO Max) – Thursday, December 10 “Let Them All Talk,” the latest film from director Steven Soderbergh (who feels like the hardest working man in the film industry), gets three of the best actresses of the last half century together for a comedy-drama about trying to revive old friendships. Three-time Oscar-winner Meryl Streep stars as an award-winning author who invited two old friends from college (played by two-time Oscar-winner Dianne Wiest and five-time Emmy-winner Candice Bergen) on a cruise with the hope of rekindling relationships and repairing old wounds. The idea of Streep, Wiest and Bergen together is frankly delicious. “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” (Netflix) – Friday, December 18 Based on August Wilson’s play, “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” directed by George C. Wolfe and co-produced by Denzel Washington who previously directed and starred in “Fences,” another Wilson adaptation to great reviews, is drawing Oscar-buzz for its lead Viola Davis (who won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for “Fences”) and for the late Chadwick Boseman, who makes his final film appearance in the movie. “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” sees tensions rising over the course of a recording sessions in 1920s Chicago with “Mother of the Blues” Ma Rainey (played by Davis) and an ambitious young trumpeter (played by Boseman) looking to make his mark. “The Midnight Sky” (Netflix) – Wednesday, December 23 George Clooney pulls double threat action on “The Midnight Sky,” a science fiction film about a scientist in the Arctic on a post-apocalyptic Earth who tries to contact the crew of a space mission out to find another habitable home and warn them not to return. Clooney both stars as the scientist and directed the film, which is based off a novel by Lily Brooks-Dalton. “The Midnight Sky” features a superb supporting cast that features Felicity Jones, David Oyelowo and Kyle Chandler. “Soul” (Disney+) – Friday, December 25 I have a feeling the latest movie from Pixar will be a huge family viewing experience for folks this Christmas as it premieres on Disney+ to no extra cost to subscribers of the streaming service (unlike “Mulan” in September). “Soul,” directed by Pete Docter (“Up,” “Inside Out”), is about a music teacher who has always wanted to perform jazz onstage and finally gets his chance when an accident causes the separation of his soul from his body and then needs help reuniting the two. The voice cast of “Soul” features Jamie Foxx and Tina Fey and should be your typical heartwarming fare from Pixar. by Philip Price Director: Darius Marder Starring: Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke & Paul Raci Rated: R Runtime: 2 hours Director Darius Marder's “Sound of Metal” is both an eye-opening yet strangely calming experience. Co-written by Derek Cianfrance (“Blue Valentine,” “The Place Beyond the Pines”) the film has his trademark feel of being wholly inhabited by real people in authentic places with a visual aesthetic that reads just as pure as the subjects. Marder, who co-wrote ‘Pines’ with Cianfrance and had only directed a documentary prior to this, his debut narrative feature, lands on the perfect type of story to apply to this style. The story of Ruben (Riz Ahmed) is a very human, very grounded, and largely - a very cleansing one - but as presented through this veritable style of Marder and Cianfrance Ruben's tale takes on what feel like mythic qualities, turning it into more than just a story, but a parable. While not your traditional parable as told by Jesus in the Gospels, “Sound of Metal” is a more raw approach to that age old serenity prayer that people repeat to remind themselves of the influence they have over the occurrences in their life on earth. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." In “Sound of Metal,” Ruben comes face to face with a reality he can neither control nor accept. As a drummer for a two-piece metal band seemingly on the cusp of bigger and better things the sense of sound is one of the most critical aspects of Ruben's life. So, when the feedback becomes more consistent, the ringing doesn't stop even after a night's rest post-gig, and the frequency of other people's voices becomes so inaudible that everyone begins to sound like Charlie Brown's teacher he knows he can't ignore the issue and he knows it won't magically go away no matter how much he needs it to. Ruben runs headfirst into the question of how does one preserve the hearing they have left when they can’t preserve themselves without it? It would seem the only choice Ruben has is to accept this literally deafening blow and adjust the entirety of his life moving forward, but as is expected - this is not an easy thing to do; it's maddening even. It is in this frantic period of time where the unknown is the key player that Marder both finds the film’s tension as well as the gateway into exploring this thesis of dealing with change, adapting to that unknown and understanding that the cruelty of the world isn't picking on you, but challenging you to discover new ways of finding the beauty in it.
The film opens by immediately indoctrinating the audience into the world Ruben loves as he sits behind his kit and plays along with Lou (Olivia Cooke) who takes care of guitar and vocals. Marder restrains the performance moments strictly to the stage limiting our knowledge of how big the venues are and therefore making Ruben and Lou's status as a band more ambiguous. The two are currently on a tour they've booked though, and as the film plays on we hear references to labels and see magazines with the two of them gracing the cover, so there's either much to look forward to or a past to recover. Either way, in their current state Ruben and Lou live together in an Airstream catered perfectly to their needs in between gigs. Marder takes us through a typical "day in the life" of Ruben displaying how he is an early riser, that he is conscious about his health as he exercises and makes nourishing if not necessarily the tastiest smoothies for, he and Lou. They've also converted a portion of the RV into a studio space so as to create new music while on the road, but neither go on with the rest of their day before dancing with the other to the sultry sounds of The Commodores. Marder uses this routine to not only establish the adorable and completely dependent relationship these two have with one another, but to also give insight into how much better Ruben is doing given the parts of his past we come to find out about later. Marder then also repeats certain shots to not only emphasize this is in fact a routine, but to then allow the viewer to experience those same, mundane morning rituals without sound as it's on one of these routine mornings that Ruben wakes up feeling as if he's been elevated 500 feet overnight and needs his ears to pop. After a consultation with a doctor and receiving a less than optimistic diagnosis Ruben is put in contact with a man who runs a program to help those in the deaf community. Joe (Paul Raci) is a Vietnam war vet who lost his hearing when a bomb went off near him and who pushed his friends and family away afterwards with his alcoholism. Lou knows Ruben needs to enter Joe's program, learn some sign language, and get a handle on this new development, but Ruben isn't focused on accepting his fate and adjusting his mind to compromise. No, Ruben wants to have cochlear implant surgery and return to normal as quick as possible. It's obvious this is a form of denial as Ahmed's performance assures us Ruben knows better and knows he's going to be forced to deal with this new way of life and thus the investment in him grows. Curiously, while the middle section of the film is far and away the heart of the story what is glaring is the fact Lou is absent for all of it despite being Ruben's whole heart. While away at Joe's program, Ruben is only allowed to connect with Lou intermittently via e-mails while also following the band's social media buzz. Lou obviously has as checkered a past as Ruben and it's clear they both saved one another from themselves in some capacity, but just as with their careers the past is never stated explicitly. The news Ruben was once an addict is delivered pretty bluntly as suspicion is sewed early when Lou's first reaction to the news he's lost his hearing is to contact what appears to be his former sponsor who then puts them in contact with Joe. It is in the first meeting with Joe that he openly questions Ruben about his addictions and how long he's been clean. Not coincidentally, Ruben has been clean for four years which is the same amount of time he and Lou have been together. Lou has her own baggage, but we're not privy to the details of this until the third act when her wealthy father (Mathieu Amalric) volunteers details of their fractured family dynamic. While there is sound reasoning for the narrative choices made here the tragic nature of the outcome feels somewhat forced and rather as if it were the preferred choice to serve Marder and Cianfrance's tone instead of the character's desires. This is the single facet of the film that feels problematic especially given the aforementioned establishing scenes and more importantly, a goodbye scene in which both Rubin and Lou come to the unspoken agreement that neither want this, but know it's what's needed. What follows in the third act is a dissolution of the momentum they were carrying in their "little gypsy life" as Lou has seemingly matured as much as Ruben has grown - both realizing the world outside of one another may yet offer them the actual hope they were chasing after when they were together. It would be fascinating to garner the different audience reads on the conclusions the characters in “Sound of Metal” come to, especially Lou whose reaction seems to be that of a deep understanding that she and Ruben will never be able to recapture or go back to the lives they once had, but doesn't want to either accept it or disappoint Ruben. Equally, Ruben seems to finally give up on the fairy tale of endless travels and quirky conversations in favor of a larger picture, but this isn't easy for him. It's understandable as well given Lou was the first person that likely made Ruben feel worth a damn or that he had something to offer that could actually fulfill the life of another person, but it is through the aforementioned second act that Ruben learns, grows, and matures to the point where he is able to sit where he does in the film’s final shot. There’s a moment nearly an hour and a half into the film where a discussion takes place about life, the need to belong, and what it all means. It’s a moment that feels it's drifting in one direction, but is derailed by clashing ideologies about what are in fact the most important things in life and how as much needs to be obtained in order for this life to actually feel worthwhile. It is this moment, this culmination of Ruben's journey of sorts that bridges the gap between who Ruben was and who he could become. This journey is made indelible due largely in part to the performance of Ahmed who not only brings us into this journey of a man trying to find his way in a world that has taken everything from him, but the frustrations of it all as well. The sheer awareness of how much his facial expressions have to adjust from one end of the movie to the other, how critical these are to the audience grasping his devastation and confusion, and the control Ahmed exhibits in this regard is stunning. Upon first arriving at Joe's program and meeting others in the deaf community proves irritating not because the people are unbearable or rude or any such nuisance, but because Ruben doesn't want to accept that this is now his reality as well and who can blame him? Joe and his pupils don't view being deaf as a handicap or as something that needs to be fixed and Joe has to frequently remind them of as much in order to maintain a peace about his land. Naturally, this frustrates someone who feels that sitting back and accepting this fate is giving up while working to correct the issue is the only option, the ultimate goal. In large respect, it's not difficult to understand exactly why Ruben feels the way he does and at times it's even easier to side with our flawed hero even as the film positions him in the role of the naive apprentice not as well-versed in the paradigms life will continue to confront him with. Ironically, what provides Ruben with a glimmer of hope in this life that almost certainly won't work out the way he expected are the deaf elementary school kids that he becomes something of an older brother to; they ultimately teaching him more than he does them despite the unbalanced ratio of life experience. Ruben's integration with the adult community around him is crucial in his development as well with Raci leaving the biggest impression as he truly delivers a powerhouse performance. Adding Nicolas Becker's sound design to the mix highlights another element just as critical to the film as Ahmed's performance as it wholly transports the audience to this mindset of moving between these worlds of sound and complete silence. We go from being able to hear clearly to the muffled and distorted sounds akin to having water in your ear that emphasizes how close yet how out of reach that pure, unfiltered sound is. Again, devastating. Becker's choices about when to utilize traditional sound as opposed to placing Ruben's ears in our own are perfectly balanced. These choices give way to the conflicted pull Ruben is going through internally while freeing us from hardships of constantly navigating Ruben's path so as not to create a maddening experience, but a sympathetic one. The film has also been subtitled so it can be experienced by both the hearing and deaf communities. Becker's sound paired with Marder's penchant to add directorial flourishes such as intermittent shots of nature, from clouds moving overhead to trees swaying in the wind, that initially seem lazy and little more than a bullet point leftover from Film School 101 are repeated enough to realize that Marder isn't just minding the pacing of his deliberate character study, but illustrating the lengths of sound in our everyday life and how much we take it for granted. Sounds accompany the slightest movements. Even in what we believe is silence there's still a comforting hum or background noise that keeps a consistent frequency and to imagine how much this unacknowledged constant would be missed were it suddenly stripped away is what Marder is slyly alerting his audience to. Within this, Marder also emphasizes the idea that music is a language no matter how you feel it and it's this newfound conviction, optimism, hope - whatever one wants to call it - that instills an ambition Ruben will find a place he feels he belongs; whether in silence or not. “Sound of Metal” begins streaming on Amazon Prime Video on December 4. |
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