This Is a Movie Review: The BFG

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The BFG Disney

Your mileage may vary regarding Mark Rylance’s incessant delivery of Roald Dahl-isms like “snozzcumber” and “jigglyraffe,” but whatever your take on whimsical slang, there are more essential matters when evaluating The BFG. The Big Friendly Giant’s capture of little Sophie (Ruby Barnhill – the most moppet-ish moppet who ever moppet-ed) happens right quick, and thus her life in the orphanage is never fully cinematically formulated. The BFG’s lair is fun to play around in, but it feels less like a fantasy world of escape and more like the status quo. Thus, much of The BFG feels oddly detached from any purpose.

Eventually, the film clicks into gear when Sophie and the BFG visit the Queen (a delightful Penelope Wilton) to enact their plan against the more cannibalistic giants. It is a matter context: yes, the Sophie-BFG relationship is obviously the crux of the movie, but it must be seen within the rest of the world’s (or at least England’s) reaction to giants. The royal reception is optimistic about statesmanship, and also makes a weird case in favor of the monarchy’s continued relevance.

I give The BFG 6 Frobscottle Farts out of 10 Corgis.

This Is a Movie Review: The Purge: Election Year

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Purge-Election-Year-Mykelti-Williamson-Frank-Grillo-Joseph-Julian-Soria-Betty-Gabriel-Elizabeth-Mitchell

It took three attempts, but the Purge series has finally figured out that essential element that so many horror movies forget: characters whose lives we actually care about! It wasn’t for lack of trying, but it was for lack of casting. Ethan Hawke did what he could in the first Purge, and Frank Grillo managed a decent B-movie hero vibe in Anarchy (thus he is the only main cast member back for Election Year), but overall the tapestry fell flat.

This time around, there is oomph to the targeted senator/presidential candidate (a steady Elizabeth Mitchell). Her survival matters since she is running on an anti-Purge platform. But the real satisfaction comes from the supporting purgers, especially Mykelti Williamson as a deli owner who suddenly finds himself on the senator’s security detail. Williamson leans a bit into Blaxploitation stereotypes, but in a knowing sense, so it is more ridiculous than offensive. It is not perfect, but at least this series finally figured out it needed a huge injection of fun.

As for the bluntly satirical election plot, it is – no surprise – simplistic and silly. It’s not that the Purge couldn’t happen in real life, just that its implementation and potential dissolution wouldn’t be so clean. But hey, this is a movie in which all crimes are legal for one night. It is fine that it breaks the rules and bends sense. It is, in fact, encouraged. More overly simplistic ridiculousness would have been even better.

I give The Purge: Election Year 30 Anti-Purge States out of 50 Pro-Purge States.

This Is a Movie Review: The Neon Demon

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neon-demon

About halfway through The Neon Demon, I realized, “Oh, this is a comedy.” The audience had been chuckling throughout, and I wasn’t sure if those moments were meant to be funny, but after a certain point, I thought, “This has to be intentional.” It hit me during the scene when Jesse (Elle Fanning – innocent, affectless) and the cabal of models (Jena Malone – fierce; Bella Heathcote – piercing eyes, affectless; Abbey Lee – severely angled, affectless) are at a bar with a designer (Alessandro Nivola). The entire movie’s dialogue is so devoid of personality and context, but the bar scene is where it is really heightened into Waiting for Godot-worthy absurdism. Nivola pokes at the core of the statements that aim for profundity and mean nothing. I don’t know if Nicolas Winding Refn intended to make a parody of an overly stylized art film, but that is what he did.

Like any good parody, The Neon Demon intuitively understands the genre it takes aim at. But it actually comes at it a bit sideways. The plot (young ingénue is eaten alive by a performance industry) is not so much the target of lampooning as much as it is the canvas draped in self-evident pretentiousness. We’ve seen this story before – All About Eve, Showgirls, Black Swan, etc. – but never this deconstructed. If you cannot jive to The Neon Demon’s wavelength completely, fear not, as its closest antecedent is Suspiria. Just like that landmark giallo, the plot is opaque, but the aesthetics (hypnotic score, violently vibrant colors) are undeniable. See this one on the big screen, and be agog.

I give The Neon Demon 8 Examples of Symbolic Cannibalism out of 9 Implied Promises of Real Cannibalism.

This Is a Movie Review: Me Before You

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MeBeforeYou

Me Before You is half romance, half euthanasia PSA. Will Traynor (Sam Claflin) is generally cold, but thoughtful towards the people he likes. Louisa Clark (Emilia Clarke) is cheery, but forceful. Thus, they are a perfect match, just so long as they can spend enough time to truly get to know each other. Alas, Will has been rendered paraplegic by an accident, and he is convinced that dying with dignity is his best option, so he sets about proving, in his own stubborn way, that he can treat his loved ones well as possible as he works to leave them behind. It is certainly not an easy message to swallow, but there is plenty of charm (watch out for the bumblebee tights) to make it a pleasant viewing experience.

Much of Me Before You involves characters getting to the bottom of things, which translates to a lot of scenes of looking at computer screens and reading books. These are particularly uncinematic activities, but Emilia Clarke does her best to overcome that. Her face acting is unreal. You have never seen someone process information as intensely as Louisa Clark does. It is even more striking than her fashion sense, which is, well, as striking as striking can be. It all adds up to an unusual mix of relentless, upbeat, and ominous. That’s basically a compliment.

I give Me Before You 6.5 Sessions of Physical Therapy out of 10 Overwhelming Outfits.

This Is a Movie Review: Wiener-Dog

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Wiener-Dog-Movie

Todd Solondz’ Wiener-Dog­ is a series of vignettes about a dachshund’s revolving set of owners: a contentious couple (Tracy Letts, Julie Delpy) and their sensitive, cancer-survivor son (Keaton Nigel Cooke); a new version of awkward Dawn Wiener (Greta Gerwig) from Solondz’ breakout Welcome to the Dollhouse; a hack film professor (Danny DeVito); and a regretful old woman (Ellen Burstyn). Typical for a Solondz film, each character suffers occasionally ugly physical and emotional upheaval, with the dachshund serving – as dogs do – as a conduit to all the trauma. That connection is also represented through her changing names, ranging from the charmingly literal (“Wiener-Dog”) to the unnervingly symbolic (“Cancer”). While Solondz’ approach is off-putting, his characters’ indignities are not necessarily unusual (save for a few instances that manage an uncanny mix of mundane and extreme). It is a low-key effort, with plenty of incisive moments about what it means to be human that manage to be comforting despite, or somehow because, of the darkness.

I give Wiener-Dog 3 Bones.

This Is a Movie Review: Swiss Army Man

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SWISS ARMY MAN (2016) Daniel Radcliffe and Paul Dano

Swiss Army Man is a lot like the recent X-Files episode, “Mulder and Scully Meet the Were-Monster,” in that a human-esque creature learns the rules that govern human civilization and then offers a rejuvenating perspective to a fully human companion. In this case, that creature is the corpse of Daniel Radcliffe,henceforth known as “Manny” (not unlike Rhys Darby as “Guy Mann”), whose presence revitalizes suicidal Hank (Paul Dano), most strikingly with the propulsive power of his flatulence. But there is so much more to Manny. He combines a blank slate, sophistication, and bluntness for a new form of wisdom. As Manny develops the ability to talk, his and Hank’s conversations tend toward the discomfort (both physical and social) of bodily urges and functions, but they are treated with the tenderness worthy of deeply connected friends. Swiss Army Man threatens to lift the veil of its fantasy, but it keeps its corpse fart-engine running, because magic exists.

I give Swiss Army Man 721 New Uses for the Human Body out of 1030 Possibilities.

This Is a Movie Review: The Shallows

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The premise for The Shallows – Blake Lively stuck on a rock while a hungry shark prowls around – sounds like a recipe for lean, no-frills horror. Alas, there are some frills, in the form of a fairly standard issue backstory. Lively plays Nancy, a med school student with some doubts about her life’s trajectory following the death of her mother, so she comes to surf at the remote Mexican beach that Mom visited while pregnant with her. These details are sort of superfluous, but they are well-deployed, explaining Nancy’s motivation and resourcefulness as she fights to survive. Plus, it gives director Jaume Collet-Serra plenty of opportunities to show off his knack for cinematizing mobile communication.

Most striking about The Shallows is the gorgeous cinematography, courtesy of Flavio Martínez Labiano. In addition to the gratuitous cheesecake shots, there are sublimely expansive vistas of the hills and shore overlooking the ocean. This beauty might feel out of place for a film whose m.o. is striking fear, but the widescreen quality is utilized smartly. Visuals that are initially life-affirming eventually serve to viscerally emphasize the isolation and long odds faced by Nancy.

For anyone worried about the implications of the MPAA’s ruling, rest assured that The Shallows is probably the goriest PG-13 movie I have ever seen. From Nancy’s improvised surgery on herself, to the fates that befall some of her would-be saviors, there are moments as intense as any of those from the most explicit creature features. The subgenre of Impossible Odds Thrillers exists to convince moviegoers they can survive life-or-death situations more than they ever thought possible. The Shallows is unrelenting in that belief.

Finally, everything you have heard about Blake Lively’s seagull co-star is true.

I give The Shallows 8 Reservoirs of Internal Strength out of 10 Expressions of Terror.

This Is a Movie Review: Now You See Me 2

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The first Now You See Me did not stick the landing so much as it hit the ground with a sledgehammer, by force of a twist ending that made one of its main characters much more psychotic than the film had any intention of grappling with. It was, in a word, breathtaking. Now You See Me 2 responds in kind with a similarly outrageous long con that is very much in keeping with the spirit of this series – that is to say: maddening, but weirdly satisfying if you have a high tolerance for insanity. The problem, however, is that this time there is not much to tide you over until that ending comes. Where the original had a silly but kinetic Robin Hood-style caper plot to run on, number 2 is a whole lotta lack of clarity.

I give Now You See Me 2 5 Acknowledgements of Its Sexism out of 10 Other Things It Should Have Also Been Doing.

This Is a Movie Review: Finding Dory

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finding_dory

A lot of sequels are unsuccessful due to wholly unnatural extensions of the original. Finding Dory has no such problem. Following the events of Finding Nemo, it only makes sense that the blue tang voiced by Ellen DeGeneres would want to swim across the ocean to find her parents. That predictability is definitely not a problem, but it does hold the film back from transcendence. It tightly follows an easily navigable pattern: complete this mission, move on to the next one. Not every plot development is predictable, but every resolution is. That is, except for a truly astounding ending that breaks all sense of believability. True, believability may not be the most important factor for the movies examining the Secret Life of Marine Animals, but one still expects limits. That is not a complaint, though. The entire film could have benefited from this go-for-broke mentality.

I give Finding Dory 5 out of 7 Septapus Legs.

This Is a Movie Review: Little Sister

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littlesister

Director Zach Clark’s Little Sister, which played as part of BAMcinemaFest 2016, captures the essence of childhood’s steady grip on young adulthood. In this particular case, the young adult is Colleen (Addison Timlin), a nun who gets back in touch with her teenage goth side when she returns to her parents’ home in North Carolina to visit her war hero brother, who was badly burned by an explosion in Iraq. The transformation from mistress of the night to mistress of God might sound like the kooky creation of a Hollywood screenwriter, but let me tell ya: as someone who went to a Catholic high school, I have witnessed a goth contingent among the faithful. Now, whether or not any of those girls went on to the abbey, I will have to admit my doubts. The point is, this premise is not that far a stretch from reality.

The film grapples with accepting life’s shortcomings when it does not live up to the assumptions and perceptions borne of inexperience. Grown children realize the extent of their parents’ drug use, a pending marriage is challenged by physical disfigurement, and an abbey struggles to fulfill its charity work when the mother superior’s car is unavailable longer than unexpected. Little Sister hits that sweet spot between oddness and familiarity.

I give Little Sister 2 Hugs out of 2.5 Drugs.

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