Man of Steel

By Zack Snyder

Chelsea:
                Man of Steel by director Zack Snyder (300, Watchmen) starts with an impressively strong sequence set on the desolate planet of Krypton that features the birth of Kal-El (Superman), political conflict, and the destruction of a planet and a people.  It is dynamically shot and edited, and Russell Crowe is quite good as Jor-El, the father of Kal-El, who sacrifices everything to ensure that his son is safe, and perhaps can one day flourish.  Unfortunately, this may be the high point of the film, and the first half is stronger than the rest, detailing Clark Kent's past and his own discovery of where he came from.  It also features Earth's introduction to villain General Zod in a fantastic sequence that shows people all over the world glued to their television sets as only darkness and ominous extraterrestrial messages surround them.  It is in these quieter moments that we see the best of Snyder's directorial style and distinctive visuals, where tension is allowed to build organically.
                Unfortunately these moments are few and far between, and Snyder can't seem to help but make this movie a longwinded string of CGI-laden action sequences.  When a whole movie tries to sustain an exhaustingly high level of drama, the sequences that are supposed to be the most impactful don’t work.  There’s no way to increase tension when it’s so high to begin with, and the whole affair just gets tedious.
To be fair, the visuals are very good, and the style distinctive.  The acting by all of the supporting characters was also solid, and I like the idea of trying to “Nolanize” Superman in theory.  However, Man of Steel simply turns insipid.  There can only be so many “cool” fight sequences in a row before it becomes a one-note bore.

**½ out of ****

David:
                I understand that people like Zack Snyder.  I get that.  I have heard many a person (nearly always male) extol the merits of 300.  Yet, to be honest, I have never understood it.  Sure, his films have a dynamic visual punch, but they lack any subtlety, making the stories they carry plastic and uninteresting.  I found 300 to be akin to a high-concept WWE production and while I loved Watchmen as a graphic novel, the film simply cheapened the material.  (I have not seen Sucker Punch, but really, who has?)  Man of Steel is no different from Snyder’s other projects, steadily filled to the brim with the testosterone-laced operatics that have come to define Snyder and now feel tired and uninspired.


Those pecs have gotta be CGI.

                These theatrics simply seem out of place in this film.  While they fit well enough with the darker aesthetics, they fall flat as the film spends a lot of time providing back-story and relies heavily on stilted character development for much of its plot.  For example, while there is nothing inherently wrong with the film using flashbacks to relay character history, one would think that to build an emotional connection, these flashbacks would contain some semblance of normality.  Instead, Snyder elects to (try to) amp up the already highly sustained dramatics by confining these flashbacks to two varieties: grand moral lessons from Clark’s father Jonathan Kent (played by Kevin Costner) and applying such lessons to high-intensity scenarios involving bus crashes and tornadoes.  As a result, we never get to know Clark outside of these extreme contexts, so he seems pretty cardboard and unrelatable – I simply never felt like I knew the guy, or why he turned out to be so ethically flawless. This all creates a deflating air of contrivance that is only hurt by a detached lead performance from Henry Cavill, who seems to be directed to pose and squint with the same nuance as a Calvin Klein underwear model.  That alone (coupled with Cavill’s pectorals) may be a fine enough excuse for many women to see the film, but it ain’t enough to engage this critic.

** out of ****

Chelsea:
              Henry Cavill certainly is a good-looking guy (extremely handsome, really), but you’re right that his performance was stale.  I wouldn’t necessarily call it bad – it just seemed like he wasn’t given much to do outside of appear heroic and handsome, and voila, that’s all he did. 

In another film altogether, really.

              I love Michael Shannon.  I think he’s absolutely terrific in just about anything he does, and I thought he did his best with the material he was given here, but the problem was his character was written so poorly.  So much of his dialogue is ridiculously corny, which doesn't work at all for the dark visual sense Snyder maintained throughout, and many of his lines spell out things the audience already knew.  He seems to be out of place, in a different, more lighthearted film.  Clearly, Snyder didn’t know how to build tension from the story, and it ends up feeling painfully forced.

David:


Jor-El would make a pretty intense history lecturer.

              There were also an abundance of head-scratcher moments in this film.  Not only were there a handful of instances in which random scientists confidently stated timely solutions to impossible problems with bogus deus ex machina science, but there were also multiple times in which characters show up out of the rubble to share emotional moments with no explanation of how they got there.  With battles seemingly taking place across miles of a city in a full-blown disaster situation, it is an eye-roller for key characters to come out of the woodwork in this fashion.  Yet, these were not the most distracting head-scratchers; that honor goes to how Clark Kent discovers his past.  This scenario involves Clark happening to find himself working as a cargo worker on a crew in the frozen tundra investigating a strange object buried deep in the ice – an object that just so happens to carry not just hints, but entire monologues about his origins.  The fact that Snyder tries to sell all of this with a straight face is off-putting, to say the least.  This many hanging question marks are simply too much to ask for a suspension of disbelief.

Chelsea:
                To change gears, I noticed that the film is rife with Christ-figure metaphors.  Kent is 33 when he puts on the cape (the age Christ was when he was crucified), Kent’s mother wears a cross necklace, both Kent’s mother and father seem to believe in a higher power, Superman has been sent here to save the world, etc. etc.  What did you think of all this?

David:

Mary and Joseph, naturally.

                I have read that Warner Bros. actually sent notes to various churches on how to preach sermons using this film.  For many reasons, this is a joke.  Yes, Superman was sent by his father to save the world and create reconciliation, but that is about the end of any parallels.  The main difference is that Christ is God and, with the Father, created the world and everything in it, and knowingly inserts himself into the creation story to redeem it.  Superman, on the other hand, is forced into his role and had no part in designing a redemption plan.  Let’s make things clear – creation was built to fit the reality of God’s redeeming purposes, but Superman enters into a broken world and has to reluctantly be convinced to accept a role his father designed for him.  Furthermore, while Superman may seem kingly in some senses, he has no right or desire to rule over the world, and if he did, he would risk turning to tyranny.  Christ, on the other hand, rightly rules over creation by virtue of being its creator and is immutably the same today and forever.  Also, due to the goodness of the world inherently reflecting Christ’s image by design, his wise rule is what is best for creation – something that Superman cannot boast, and the film prudently does not propose.  Superman is a hero and a helper, not a sovereign ruler.
                This is a problem I see with many Christ figures in films, and it is disappointing to see so many churches jump at opportunities to say, “Hey look!  Jesus is like that!”  The reality is that Jesus is like no one but Jesus.  If anything, I think an effective sermon would be on how Jesus is far better than Superman.  Who knows, maybe this is what the studio pamphlets say, so I could be off base.  What did you think about the Christ parallels in the film?

Chelsea:
                Theology notwithstanding (even if he wanted to, I don’t think Snyder could accurately capture the nature of the Trinity on film), I am with you in your disappointment.  I mean, I think it’s interesting to talk about Christ metaphors in films, but we don’t need to jump on the bandwagon of support only when there are obvious references to the Christian story.  Mostly, it seems cheap.  This did, however, at least give me something to think about when I had mentally checked out from the action onscreen.

David:

Seemingly, Superman doesn't not mind destroying entire cities and their inhabitants.

                Let’s take a step back, look at the big picture, and be honest – this is a story about a super hunky alien flying around in a cape; it doesn’t deserve the pseudo-serious, somber delivery Snyder imbues it with.  It all feels so insincere; the kind of Hollywood schlock that simplifies our world into nice categories and clean lines.  Life is not like this, and if there were a Superman, he would be far more complex than the one in this film.  Perhaps if Snyder took the lead of Christopher Nolan’s Batman films and made strides to make Superman a darker, more conflicted character, his brooding aesthetic would work.  Alas, Man of Steel is a real disappointment - a misguided and dull attempt to bring viewers to contemplate mostly empty, simplistic themes.

Two-as-One Rating: **¼ out of ****

 

Before Midnight

By Richard Linklater

David: 

                All who have lived serious romances and fought to preserve their meaningful joys will find a knowing and empathetic friend in Richard Linklater’s Before Midnight.  Detailing a single night in which the inevitable conflicts and competing desires inherent to intertwining two lives bubble to the forefront, the film deftly captures the competing push of human selfishness and pull of commitment’s comforts.  Linklater seems to state the old adage that you cannot have your cake and eat it too, but carefully adds that with enough effort, a couple can work together to share more cake than either could eat individually.  While recognizing the unavoidable pains and sacrifices of functioning relationships, the film poignantly expresses that it is worth the effort.
                This is a stark break from the prior two installments of this story, 1995’s Before Sunrise and 2004’s Before Sunset, for while those films skillfully captured the thrill of new love’s promises, this film provides a counterpoint – those promises don’t come easy, and many times feel fleeting.  Where previously the obstacles of distance and circumstance distanced Jesse and Celine, here they must face the reality of their own faults.  Adding a fitting gravitas to their continuing journey, the film provides an insightful survey to what happens after the gusts of a whirlwind romance die down, leaving the consolation of familiarity.
                In this sense, the film reminds me of Rossellini’s Voyage to Italy, which also follows a couple searching to find a spark in their relationship, but to Linklater’s credit, he does not follow that film’s cynicism (per my reading, at least).  Rather, this film celebrates the joys of overcoming conflict and striving to make things work, and by avoiding any sugarcoating, the true weighty significance of the seemingly small victories we see come to light.  At first glace, the film may seem slight compared to the events of its prequels, but in digging deeper, it is an inescapably essential addition to this couple’s story.  So many films celebrate momentous romantic gestures, but this film joins the ranks of the few that successfully celebrate the much more common daily efforts that sustain and nurture lasting romance.

**** out of ****

Chelsea:

Celine and Jesse amongst the group.

                There is a scene in the middle of this film in which a group of intellectual European couples discuss relationships, monogamy, and “to death do us part”.  The conversation is quite cynical about lifelong monogamy, focusing on the (now common) idea that it is no longer possible or good to expect people to remain in relationships for the long haul.  Or at least, if they do, the people in these relationships will become exceedingly unhappy and no longer love each other. This view of our times prioritizes the momentary emotions of falling in love and devalues the work involved in staying in love.  Soon after, the film provides a biting counterpoint, as Jesse speaks about his grandparents who seemed to be deeply in love until their deaths.  It is the example of couples like them that leads Jesse and Celine to hold out hope and pursue one another through the bad – trying to reignite a now-mundane romance.
                Shot almost entirely in a series of conversations between Jesse and Celine, what is most striking about this excellent film is its incredibly realistic dialogue.  Even when Jesse and Celine discuss big ideas of life and time, or simply playfully flirt with one another, they pause to talk about how they haven’t had conversations like those in years – how very true to life!  Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke slip comfortably back into the roles they helped create, diving headlong into the conflicts of resentment and pride that are all-too commonplace in everyday life.  Additionally, the film gutsily tackles the meaty subject of fallout after divorce, not glossing over it as the result of “fate” or “true love” as so many modern people would be wanton to do.  The film is an honest, heartbreaking, and hopeful examination of a relationship in the middle stages of life.  In today’s world, this may be more romantic than falling in love as depicted in the previous films of this Before trilogy.  Wonderful.

A very strong ***½ out of ****

David:

"Monogamy? No thanks!" (D&C like monogamy.)

                I’m glad you brought up the dinner conversation, because I found it to be a pivotal to the thematic progression of the film.  If marriage is nothing more than a means to mutual gratification, it is foolish to believe it will last, let alone be worth the fight.  Some of the couples in the film would agree and argue that once the flame is gone, it is time to begin the search for the excitement of a new flame.  Yet, the film ultimately pushes back against this concept as selfish and base, for while its characters may understand their positions in theory, their actions and affections speak volumes about their underlying desires.  As actions reveal true positions, it is clear that the characters of this film are innately drawn to the concepts of commitment and sacrifice.  After all, only one comment brings a toast from the table, and that comment, from an older widow, spoke to the deep joys of successfully making two joined lives feel natural and reassuring, even if death makes these superior joys temporary as well.  As Linklater works in references to art inspired by Christian faith and piety at various points of the film (Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and the ancient paintings of a small chapel), it makes sense that these characters, who appreciate such works with adoration, all grasp for lasting meaning in their respective relationships – an ode to the Imago Dei and common grace of God if I have ever seen one, albeit most likely an inadvertent one.

Chelsea:
                It was absolutely an important scene, and a lovely one at that.  It was, however, the only scene I had (very) slight problems with.  It didn’t detract from the film overall, but I felt like the dialogue from the people that weren’t Celine and Jesse was just a bit too on-the-nose, especially the young couple.  On the other hand, I feel like young people often say things that are obvious in that way; I know I do!

She's just a baby!

David:
               The younger man states that this is the first time they have been invited to eat with the adults, and I think that young people in that position (especially if they are in a relationship) have a benign eagerness to prove themselves that seems somewhat insincere.  I’m not sure if that is what Linklater was going for, but it nonetheless captures it well – a case of cinematic serendipity, if you will.

Chelsea:

Life is tragic here.

                I love your term “benign eagerness.”  It describes that interaction perfectly.  The setting of scene, in general, just bothered me a bit.  A group of four (clearly wealthy) couples, eating grapes and fresh food on some patio in a villa in Greece – it just seems so cliché.  It makes sense why Jesse and Celine are there, but it still is a bit pat, especially since everyone seemed to have the perfect quip in perfect timing.  It provided some of the only moments of the film that felt scripted, even if they were poignant.

David:
                You make a good point – the scene could have benefitted from a bit more conversational authenticity.  That being said, it provided a thematic base to interpret the film as a whole, so I’m not sure Linklater could have been as successful providing this base while maintaining the high degree of verisimilitude the rest of the film carries.
                On another note, it was interesting that, in a sense, this film serves as a retraction of its prequels.  The ending of Before Sunset, in which Jesse elects to leave his wife and child for Celine, while utterly believable, was also deeply unsettling for me as someone committed and strengthened by the concept of romantic commitment.  It seems odd that Jesse, who left his wife and life in America so rashly, would weather the storms of his relationship with Celine. Would not it be more expected for him to likewise leave Celine for a new romance found on one of his book tours?

Chelsea:
                One of the things that (slightly) bothered me about the film was the way that Jesse and Celine both demonized Jesse’s ex-wife.  I understand that divorce is extremely messy, and it is probably easier to justify if you do demonize your ex-wife.  However, at one point Celine refers to her with some extremely strong language, and it would have been more realistic if Jesse maybe simmered her down a bit and reminded her that she is, in fact, the mother of his son.  If she is that horrible in real life, then that seems a bit convenient for the story – it’s easier to side with new lovers if the old lover is terrible.

Apparently, Hawke signs autographs for Mark McGrath.

David:
                I mostly agree, though I do not find it unbelievable that Jesse would not speak up for his former wife.  That particular comment marks a small blemish in the midst of one of the film’s most impressive sequences - the climactic fight scene.  It could have been the best relational tiff I have ever seen, for its ebbs and flows were both illogical and understandable – like any real, good fight.  I could ask what you thought about this sequence, but instead I will ask something a bit more provocative: who did you find yourself siding with?

Chelsea:
                That IS a provocative question!  I found myself siding with Jesse most of the time – with the exception of a few exchanges regarding his cheating and efforts to circumvent the question altogether.  What drove me nuts about Celine was how she would assume she knew Jesse’s thoughts in their entirety and read into them whatever her insecurities were.  Frequently she was right, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating.  She had the ability to make everything much bigger than it needed to be, possibly blowing things up on purpose, or making up insecurities to gain sympathy.  Sometimes people just like to fight!  In that way, I identified with Celine.  Clearly, the sequence was ultra-realistic.  It would be hard to think Linklater and his actor collaborators were not pulling from experience.  That fight, and the aftermath, was ultimately what sold me on the film.  Who did you side with?

David:

How can I serve you, honey?

                I mostly agree with your assessment of the quarrel, though it is really an unfair question since both play such petty games with each other.  I found Celine utilizing her commitment to feminism as a crutch to be particularly frustrating; especially when it seemed to trivialize Jesse’s deeply felt pain over his growing distance from his son.  I found the sequence to be a microcosm of the paramount problem of so many marriages: people living and thinking about themselves rather than serving their partner.  In this is found an important indictment of the modern romantic ideals espoused by those in the critical dinner scene –modern relationships have become far too self-centered, where they had once been ideally characterized more by mutual submission and service.  Where couples now live two separate lives and cross each other’s paths for a time (per the wisdom of the dinner’s attendees), happy couples throughout history have chosen to give up their independence to work as a team to strive for something greater.
                I have a tendency to put a high value on tautly written films, and I think this film is a prime example of how simplicity in film can enhance thematic impact.   There didn’t seem to be anything out of place, nor anything superfluous, and this made it engaging from beginning to end.

Chelsea:
                While I didn’t think it as flawless as you, I loved it all the same and would recommend it to anyone, whether you have been in a relationship long enough to empathize with its characters or if you simply know someone who could empathize.

Two-as-one rating: *** ¾ out of ****

Note: This film contains graphic sex talk/language as well as prolonged female nudity.

 

Chelsea's Top Ten - #6 - Touch of Evil (Welles, 1958)

6. Touch of Evil - Orson Welles, 1958

                Orson Welles was a man far ahead of his time.  He wrote, directed, and starred in what is consistently noted as the “greatest film of all time”, Citizen Kane.  Although I consider Citizen Kane to be a very fine film, it’s Touch of Evil that most impressed me.  The film opens with a lengthy and tense tracking sequence, following a bomb in the trunk of a car as it drives the streets of a Mexican border town for over three minutes.  The bomb explodes as the car crosses into the United States and sends the movie diving into a twisty tale of drugs, police corruption, prostitution, immigration issues, and racial strife.  Charlton Heston plays a straight-laced Mexican cop, engaged to a beautiful woman.  Orson Welles plays the crooked American border cop who plants evidence based on hunches.  From there, the plot gets all twisty and turny and quite pulpy.  No matter, because this movie isn’t about the plot, it’s absolutely about watching a master director at work.  In each and every take, you can feel Welle’s strong hands guiding you through this labyrinthine story, and it’s wonderful to be in the hands of such an assured artist.  It’s considered the key film to bring the film noir era to a close, and it is the last film Welles ever made in Hollywood.  It is dark, thrilling, exciting, and altogether fantastic.

David:

The man had balls.

                Welles always had the balls to put his camera where other directors of his time would find absurd.  He didn’t care – he had confidence in his artistic hunches and stuck with them, even if it meant being relegated to making B-movies for pompous Hollywood producers.  Maybe this was a good thing in the end, for it was this relegation that most likely allowed him the freedom to make the daring choices we see in Touch of Evil, even if these producers ended up cutting the film to shreds anyway.  For example, there is a murder scene in this film which includes a shot from a soon to be victim’s helpless point of view as she lays strapped to a hotel bed, staring into the bulging eyes of a fresh corpse draped over the bannister.  Surely something this dark and disorienting would not have been allowed with a larger budget, but on a smaller budget, studios could take more risks.  In the context of this film, which capitalized on the end of the Production Code era by providing a logical and suitably bleak conclusion of the film noir genre, shots like this shockingly unearth the dark fantasies of crime so many had been drawn to in the genre.  By this time, it seems that Welles saw this cinematic obsession with crime was an American sickness (albeit one he contributed to with The Lady from Shanghai), and his work here pulled back the veil on the very real horrors of greed, corruption, and hate.  Pulsing with a frenetic Henry Mancini score and offering consistently cramped, uncomfortable compositions, the film serves as a warning to both be aware of crime’s terrors and avoid glamourizing them.  For any lovers of crime film, you simply cannot do better than this.  See it, and make sure to see the 1998 version, which attempts to restore the film to Welles’s original, darker vision.

David's Top Ten - #7 - To Be Determined Again!

Folks, it looks like I have rubbed off a little too much on my wife.  For the second week in a row, I have a film on my top ten that is on Chelsea’s top ten at a higher rank.  As such, I will punt my comments on this film until a later point.  In lieu of those comments, here is another round of clues to what this mystery film may be.  Enjoy! 

If you get this right, you gain ten friend points.  That could put you in to friend level G, depending on current friend level.  Friend levels may or may not be real.

Clue #1:  A late-period film for a classic silent film actress whose father was from a line of Dunkard ministers.  (Don’t know what a Dunkard is?  Wow.  I thought I knew you.)
Answer: Lillian Gish, and Dunkards are a sect of German baptists.

Clue #2: There are iconic tattoos in this film that inspired tattoos in only the second film ever to have gained a Best Original Screenplay Academy Award nomination for a black screenwriter.
Answer: The Spike Lee written and directed Do the Right Thing

Clue #3: Though it was never made, the director’s next feature was planned to be an adaptation of a book later made into a film by a filmmaker who had starred with the actress mentioned in today’s first clue in his silent film acting days.
Answer: The project was an adaptation of Norman Mailer's The Naked and the Dead, which was later adapted by Raoul Walsh in 1958, who had acted with Lillian Gish in D.W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation.  He played John Wilkes Booth.

Clue #4:  One of two films adapted from the authored works of this film’s source material.  The other film features the work of the actor who was said to “look too old” by the director of our first mystery film.  (And you thought you would get out of answering that mystery!)
Answer: The author is Davis Grubb, and the other adaptation was of his novel Fools' Parade, which starred an aged James Stewart in 1969.  (Which should help you with the answer to the other mystery film!)

Clue #5: This film was later remade into a television movie starring the lead actor of a 1960s television series about a doctor that ABC aired on Thursday nights from 8:30-9:30 for five straight years.

Answer: The 1991 television remake starred Richard Chamberlain, who starred in the show Dr. Kildare.

The movie is, of course, Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter, which comes in at #4 on Chelsea's Top Ten of All-Time.

Frances Ha

By Noah Baumbach

Chelsea:
            I have seen two films in my entire life, that I recall, that have beautifully and accurately captured the experience and feelings of being a young woman involved in deep female friendships.  One is Mike Leigh’s 2008 film Happy-Go-Lucky.  The other, I have just had the pleasure of viewing – Noah Baumbach’s Frances Ha.  That is not to say that either of the films are melodramatic, saccharine, or any of the adjectives typically associated with women’s pictures, chick flicks, and the like.  In fact, far from it.  Frances Ha is a frequently bleak and uncomfortable look into the life of a young dancer living in New York City hoping to make it big.  The film establishes her long-lasting best friendship with her roommate Sophie, and it follows her as she frequently fails in the workplace, in romance, and even in social situations, while still trying to gain a sense of dignity and purpose in her life.
            Although there are many things that are remarkable in this little film, several stand out.  Greta Gerwig’s performance as the title character is absolutely incredible. She embodies this character completely – the slight awkwardness, the nervous word vomiting, the uninhibited silliness that is somehow still just a little self-conscious – everything that makes Frances both lovable and annoying.  She co-wrote the script and reportedly did a lot of improvising on set; not surprising considering how natural the performance is.  The writing itself is also outstanding – capturing little things this group of New Yorkers say to one another without feeling twee or trying too hard.  It is a wonderful film, and one that captured my heart and allowed me to identify so much with its main character, not because we share similar worldviews or personalities, but because she is so well drawn that it is impossible not to see some part of your own neuroses and fears in her.

***1/2 out of ****

David:
            Character studies have an unfortunate tendency to be self-indulgent.  As they rely heavily on the allure of the personalities they study, it is far too easy for such films to force viewers to sit through boring hours spent examining people with little nuance or charisma.  With Frances Ha, Noah Baumbach avoids such pitfalls by providing not only a magnetic and eccentric protagonist, but also fully fleshed relationships from which this character can reluctantly face her faults and search for meaning.  And while that may seem trite, the film never feels forced, allowing the story to flow organically from the mistakes of its characters while never resorting to crass moral preaching.  There is never a moment in which you feel Baumbach (or co-writer/lead actress Greta Gerwig) feel anything but deep affection and care for their creation – she is a mess, but a wonderful, vibrant, and believable mess.


Almost roomies.

             More than anything, I was impressed by the way the film captured the postmodern drift of my own “millennial” generation.  With so much of American culture telling us we could be anything we want, many 20-somethings will certainly empathize strongly with the resistance of Frances in facing her own shortcomings. This is more than an overdue coming of age story; it is a touching and affecting portrait of our times.

A strong ***½ out of ****

Chelsea:
            Beautifully put that it is a portrait of our times; I agree, one hundred percent.  With that in mind, I found it interesting that much of the dialogue is extremely frank in its depiction of sexuality, while never once showing a sex scene.  I found it honest in a lot of ways, never resorting to showing something sensationalistic or exploitative.  In addition, some of the male characters are seen parading their one night stands through the apartment while others are there, knowing clearly they are fully aware of what went on behind closed doors.  None of the characters are phased by this and I thought that was interesting and a reflection of the relaxed attitudes about sex of our times.  What did you think?

David:

Frances is "undatable."

            One of the motifs of the film is Frances labeling herself as “undatable,” and I think this motif points to why Baumbach and Gerwig wisely opted out of any overt sexual depictions; this is not what the film was about.  While an honest depiction of sexuality could have further developed Frances’s insecurities, the film takes strides to portray her as someone who keeps men at a distance.  I found this to be a daring move, as stories of sexual exploration or dysfunction are both difficult to execute with proper complexity and are attempted (and failed) far too often.  It is a far more rare for a film to tell the story of someone who finds men to be unrelatable and sex to be blasé.  Indeed, Frances seems to get more joy from her time with Sophie gossiping about the habits of the men they have been with than the actual sexual experiences she has had.
            Which, I suppose, is why I appreciated the frank depiction of sexual discourse.  In a world in which sex is something people do simply for amusement or to boost their own sense of pride, it is not surprising that the act also could become commonplace and uninteresting.  There is a brilliant scene in which Frances and one of two male roommates are platonically zoning out to a movie and their other roommate nonchalantly brings home yet another hook-up.  The juxtaposition of movie viewing and sex as parallel hobbies is stark and insightful.  For Frances, watching a movie is simply a far less complicated hobby to add into her own discombobulated life.  Once again, the film manages to capture our times, critiquing some unfortunate results of postmodern life without the taint of ego or judgment.
            Another critique the film has of modern friendships is their inherent competitiveness.  This is a big theme of the film, as though Frances loves Sophie deeply, she is plagued by constantly comparing herself to Sophie’s successes.  This brings about much of the conflict central to the film’s story.  I am curious – what did you think of this aspect of the film?

Chelsea:
            Unsurprisingly, I loved this exploration of competition in friendship, specifically in how it occurs in female friendship.  I found it all too familiar, as this frequently affects the dynamics of my own friendships.  I think a specifically interesting moment was one pivotal scene in which (*SPOILER*) Sophie confesses to feeling this competition between herself and Frances, but due to her own pride, Frances denies having ever felt that way; despite the fact that the whole film details just the opposite.  In fact, this competition nearly ruins their beautiful relationship, and it is only after this confession that Frances is able to allow their friendship to flourish once again.

Let's fight.  For realsies.

            I found it true to life and honest.  For some odd reason, female friendships are frequently held up by a sense of competition – even if the women are in different careers, have different personalities, and are happily attached to different men.  There is no real reason for competition to exist, and yet it does, ruining so many relationships and stopping others from the get-go.  I thought this film captured this tragic reality well.
            As a final note, I was struck by the sequence of Frances going back home for Christmas.  I thought it was particularly poignant – what did you think?

David:
            The Christmas sequence was one of the most touching for me, as I personally identified with it from my own past.  As the film allows Frances to pit personal ambition against the reassurance of loving community, the sequence nicely communicated both the deep emotions that come from the unconditional love of close family and the personal pride that stops many from admitting their need for such comforting encouragement.  For those with loving families, homesickness is all too common, especially when things “out there” turn sour.  What the film ultimately relays is that it is not the goals or successes of our lives that define us, but the people who love and shape us along the way.  The film takes time to remind us that if we neglect this truth, the result is a cold and desperate dissatisfaction.  The fact that the film slowly and patiently braves this lonely territory is a testament to its sincerity, for it makes the contrasting joys of its story both authentic and subtly powerful.  Ultimately, it is far better to accept our failures while drawing strength from loving relationships to move forward and find joy in developing and pursuing new aspirations.

Two-as-One Rating: ***½ out of ****

Chelsea's Top Ten - #7 - Magnolia (Anderson, 1999)

7. Magnolia - Paul Thomas Anderson, 1999

                To try to summarize this film in a short paragraph is futile.  Telling overlapping stories of approximately nine major characters over the course of one day in Los Angeles, Magnolia is about sin, shame, emotion, connectedness, father-child relationships, and coincidence, all in the course of a short 188 minutes.  Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson (PTA) at the ripe old age of 28, a filmmaker whose films are now some of the most critically anticipated around, the film is rife with both youthful energy and wisdom that comes with long life.  As the story moves from character to character, the camera lingers on the depth of raw emotion in each remarkably whole person.  Then PTA pulls out the rug in a few incredible sequences that connect the people and the dots and show us how people are frequently the same – with similar longings and needs, and how the world is ultimately bigger than any of us imagine it is.  It’s a great film, and it holds a special place in my heart because it happens to be the first film I saw that convinced me that film could be more than entertainment – crossing into the level of meaningful art.  Not to mention that it has the only instance of a Tom Cruise performance I really like – now that is a feat!

Frank T.J. Mackey, a misogynist motivational speaker.

David’s Response:

Paul Thomas Anderson.

                As with you, this film had a major impact on my development as a cinephile.  There is something about Paul Thomas Anderson’s ambition that was and is exhilarating to me.  Firstly, he had the audacity to make (and somehow convince his backers to pay over fifty million dollars for) a three-hour series of character studies that climax in meaningful, yet truly fantastic ambiguity.  Secondly, and more importantly, his personal voice is so strong in his films that it not only demands you interact with it, but it makes it impossible to avoid.  For a young, fledgling film lover, this voice in Magnolia was a revelation – it was just as thrilling to interact with the filmmaker’s voice than the story he had presented.  Not to say that Magnolia’s story is weak, for it is anything but.  Rather, what this film does, as so many great films do, is seamlessly inject commentary on its happenings through the language of movies, both adding additional layers to its themes and reminding us of the real minds and ideas behind its creation.  More than anything, Magnolia reminds us that the most exciting portions of the film world are the quarters of production held under nothing but the sovereignty of skilled artists, where there are no laws by which filmmakers must apply. Luckily for us all, Paul Thomas Anderson resides in these quarters and has both the talent and vision to create lasting and transcendent cinema.

Chelsea's Note:  Paul Thomas Anderson has also directed: There Will Be Blood, The Master, Boogie Nights, Hard Eight, and Punch-Drunk Love.  I anticipate his films more than any others, and I believe he is my favorite filmmaker working today.  I would highly recommend any of his films, but with caution: most of them contain a lot of adult content, specifically in Boogie Nights and The Master.

Star Trek Into Darkness

By J.J. Abrams

 

Chelsea:

J.J. Abrams has now all but solidified himself as the next Steven Spielberg.  With this film, the first Star Trek reboot, and Super 8 (not to mention the upcoming Star Wars films), he is one of the most exciting and trusted blockbuster directors working in Hollywood.  Star Trek Into Darkness continues the positive trend.  Carefully crafted, and boasting a strong attention to detail, it is an extremely fun ride.  It had good overall performances, a very interesting villain, and it was impeccably paced to maximize tension.

Abrams can certainly stage an action sequence, especially a disaster, like no one else, and there were quite a few scenes in Star Trek that reached a very high level of suspense.  However, with this said, it simply didn’t have the thematic weight to warrant a glowing recommendation.  It relied too heavily on past knowledge of the franchise (even back many years) to build investment in its characters.  It also was a bit overkill, piling one battle or action sequence on another.  I would have enjoyed just a little breathing room, maybe some tension built out of something other than another death-defying barrage. However, as this is a summer blockbuster, it is hard to expect much depth, and as a popcorn flick, it more than hits its marks.

A very strong *** out of ****

David:

                 I find it impressive what Abrams has done for Star Trek, now having crafted two thrilling adventure films from the shell of a franchise that had previously built a large fan base employing more cerebral plotting.  Until Abrams, Star Trek stories drew mainly from political intrigue, webs of interpersonal clashes, and the curiosities of strange new worlds.  Yes, the original Star Trek series was campy, but even so, it thrived on the basis of cultural and political conflict (along with a healthy dose of melodrama).  Comparatively, with his additions to the franchise, Abrams has succeeded in creating something fresh, simplifying the formula into something more crowd-pleasing while simultaneously paying respect to the brand’s roots in utilizing the political conflict inherent to the Star Trek universe.

A perilous situation.

This isn’t to say the films are dumbed-down, but rather that much of the intellectual fat has been trimmed.  While this film has its fair share of twists and turns, its central conflict remains mostly uncomplicated, pulling from basic themes of revenge and political corruption.  The plot may be intricate, but the motivations driving the plot are not, and with more simple conflicts, there is more time for well-staged action sequences and perilous situations – which are Abrams’s sweet spot.  This man was built to make blockbuster films and knows how to use all the tricks at his disposal (including the ever trusty countdown-to-exploding-device) to efficiently create suspense.  There is nothing new here, really, but with Abrams’s skills, it is nonetheless exhilarating.  It is top-notch formula filmmaking, and while some of it seems overly contrived, it is an impressively slick and eminently exciting ride.

     

A weak ***½ out of ****

Chelsea:

I agree that it is quite impressive what Abrams has done with the franchise.  It is fresh, and crowd-pleasing without ever being dumb, even if the “intellectual fat” has been removed.  I am very close to a 3 ½ star rating as well – it was really was very entertaining and extremely thrilling.  I thought Benedict Cumberbatch was ever so fun and thrilling as the film’s villain, John Harris.  What did you think of him? 

David:

Good old Benedict.

                In his scenes, Cumberbatch commanded the screen.  I found myself wanting to see more of him, as the brooding charisma of his performance was both electric and frightening.  I found myself thinking of Die Hard’s Hans Gruber, probably because Cumberbatch’s voice benefits from the same timbre as Alan Rickman.  Yet, unlike Die Hard’s iconic villain, Cumberbatch’s Harris is always coolly in control of his plans, demonstrating a superior cleverness over his adversaries.  In fact, when he is ultimately vanquished (not really a spoiler – c’mon, did you really think the bad guy would win?), it takes some suspension of disbelief just to accept that he is outduelled.  Yet, as the film is filled to the brim with the highly unlikely, barely-made-it-out-alive hijinks that define American blockbusters, I was mostly comfortable accepting this suspension of disbelief as well.

                Without giving too much away, I also appreciated the way the film handled this character generally.  As a viewer, we spend much of our time assessing his motivations and cannot make a true judgment until far into the plot.  This was refreshing and a nicely compelling move, as most blockbusters simply present a power-hungry baddy at the beginning and move on from there.

                Throughout the film, there was a lot of angst built between characters – between Scotty and Kirk, Kirk and Spock, Spock and Uhura, and more.  What did you think of this?  Did it help the story or weigh it down?  Did you think these conflicts given enough attention to be credible?

Chelsea: 

                I love your comparison of the voice of Cumberbatch with Rickman – it is a very nice parallel.  As far as angst and tensions go, I felt as though some of the relationships and their ensuing spats were more believable than others.  Although I identified with the baseline frustration in the relationship with Uhura and Spock, it isn’t a particularly fleshed out relationship, so the scenes were a bit forced.  I thought the tension between Kirk and Spock was better, and I don’t yet have an opinion on the one between Scotty and Kirk.  Simon Pegg can sell anything with a deft comic touch, but the question is was his reaction to the missiles true to his character in this or the last film?  I guess I’m not sure, and I don’t know that we know Scotty well enough and this point to make that judgment.  What did you think?

David:

Ah, the bromance.

                You hit on a big consideration for this film – as with many sequels, it relies heavily on character development done in previous installments.  While the attention given to the Kirk-Spock tiff made it believable due to its central role in the plotting, I also found myself a little lost with the Spock-Uhura conflict, even if it was rather simple when you break it down.  It had honestly been too long since I had seen the first installment to remember they had a relationship, let along be invested in its survival.  Likewise with Scotty – while I bought his administrative quarrel with Kirk, it was hard to say if his actions were fitting.  This all raises an interesting question – if a film assumes prior viewer knowledge, does the film lose value?  I would say no, especially if the film is a sequel, but it does make the job of a critic a bit more difficult.

Chelsea:

                I would agree that a film doesn’t automatically lose value if it relies on prior viewer knowledge.  However, I think the issue with this film was that it was so concerned with the zip, bang aspects of the production that it just left everything else by the wayside, including any character development that both (a) didn’t happen in the previous film (b) needed to happen for the tension to fully work in this film.  Now again, I thought it was great fun, there just wasn’t much in the way of actual nuance.  Additionally, it broached some very interesting subjects (specifically war profiteering) that were later dropped and not fully realized in favor of more (admittedly very cool) action sequences.

David:

                I can hear the fanboys now – “But we already know these characters!”  And indeed, they would be right – they have a whole television series logged into their memory.  Not being a trekker myself, it is hard to know how much the film relied on or played off the years of character work from the iconic show.  Yet, while this could account for some of the glossed over character portrayals, I nevertheless agree that since its story stems from character flaws, it could have been more compelling with a greater exploration of these flaws.  Instead, we are given archetypes, and while this serves well enough to provide motivations for its plotting, it is not as impactful as it could be.

Red shirts next to a villain - uh oh...

                You could also say the same thing for the political themes it mostly dropped in favor of action – as with the character flaws, these themes are presented mainly as a jumping point to battles and thrills, rather than being the focus of the film.  Since these themes, though they were simplified, are far more interesting than your standard bad guy vs. good guy setups, I found the film as a whole more interesting than standard action fare.  Yes, it could have been more meaningful by exploring character psyches and political philosophy, but as a summer blockbuster, that was clearly not its intent, and it is hard to fault it for prioritizing excitement over thematic depth – especially when it so skillfully excites.

Two-as-One Rating: ***¼ out of ****