- Interstellar 1/30/24
“I love you, forever. You hear me? I love you forever. And I'm coming back. I'm coming back.”
Love transcends. Even through time and space, love transcends. It’s a sentiment that feels a little corny, elevating love to such an abstract level, but it’s so endlessly genuine. Throughout Interstellar, you can see how powerful love is, being the primary driving force behind the actions of most of the characters here. Love is what makes it all bearable, and more importantly, worth it.
Something I found fantastically done in Interstellar is the sense of scale created for concepts, worlds, and characters. The elements serve as an antagonistic role, getting in the way of the goal of finding a habitable planet for humanity to move to. Ideas of ownership are played with by really showing how much bigger planets are compared to the rest of us. There’s definitely an ecological angle in effect that just fits perfectly with the rest of the film’s themes. Extinction is presented as an inevitability due to forces out of humanity’s control, with the Earth itself turning hostile, and it’s left alone. Humans have to physically leave, and the solution isn’t in forcing the earth to fit their needs. Additionally, the threat of the elements is used to show how small man is, which in turn, makes the strength of love seem even more infinite.
The best moments of the film are when we see characters brought to their most naked selves, where they are instinctively human. Through the struggles against nature and the forces that shape their lives, they have no choice but to seek out what’s most important to them. It makes for a beautiful display of the strength of relationships. The way we’re drawn to each other is also shown through the responses to the inciting event. Coop’s decision to leave Earth is motivated by his love for his daughter, just as Professor Brand’s decision to send Amelia and the rest of the astronauts away is motivated by his love for his daughter. They both did what they could to save the ones they loved. It’s in this way that we can see what the goal of “saving humanity” really is: wanting the people in your life to keep moving forward. Wanting your loved ones to just be okay.
While Coop’s relationship with Murphy is the crux of the film, I did find it odd enough to the point of distraction that Coop didn’t have the same level of affection towards his son, Tom. The sometimes complicated bond between parent and child is an important part of Interstellar, and for it to feel like Coop didn’t care that much about Tom seems like an oversight. Presenting the two relationships where Coop would trudge across space and time to get back to Murphy, and oh yeah, he misses Tom too, I guess, was just a weird part of the movie.
Love is an emotion, a trait, a motivation, and so much more. Interstellar does a wonderful job at showcasing just how powerful love can be. It’s shown in a similar light to time and space: powerful concepts that shape our material reality. What we might call “the small stuff,” like the way a father looks out for his daughter, in a movie like this, which deals with big ideas, is given the same weight as these ideas. In this way, you’re able to feel how important the small stuff is. Inversely, the big concepts are brought down to a human level, so as to never be too far removed from the individual. Instellar’s thesis statement that love is the force that pulls everything together and causes things to bloom is stated repeatedly. This repetition is what makes you never forget how all of these characters are so deeply affected by their bonds with one another. After taking Interstellar, there’s a period of reflection, and you just have to think to yourself, “Yeah. Love really is that power.” Emotional sincerity conveyed from the director to the screen to the audience right there.
- Frownland
Starting the film in media res was an interesting decision to thrust the audience right into things and force them to really pay attention. However, I don’t think much more was done with this decision. For my first experience with mumblecore, I was pretty open for what to expect but was still caught off guard. The dialogue heavy focus was an area of interest, but the dialogue didn’t build on itself or build towards a strong direction. Keith being so neurotic and Dore Mann’s skittish performance helps to give an additional punch to the writing, but eventually just becomes overwhelming. We don’t see his life from many other angles other than his struggles and his singular type of response to them. Despite these bigger flaws, Frownland is still competently shot and even visually striking. The lightning and shot composition add a layer of fascination to Keith, making his fairly average problems appear even uglier and painful. It’s a part of the movie that I would call high-quality, but unfortunately, still isn’t enough to make the film distinct enough, with most scenes feeling more of the same.
- Banshees of Insherin 1/29/24
“I said, ‘not aimless chatting’ I said ‘Good, normal chatting.’”
For most people, life is just a regular thing you go through until you can’t. There’s no bigger direction other than continuing. “The Banshees of Inisherin” looks at normal, small people with larger dreams and contemplations on their morality. It’s no coincidence that the small island of Inisherin is fictional: It’s so insignificant that its existence is only imagined. With this unimportance felt by the audience and characters alike, it makes any ambition feel much grander.
Leaving a legacy and being remembered is a goal that’s just impossible on Inisherin. Colm Doherty, played by Brendan Gleeson, is a tragic man whose loss is made aware as the film goes on. Seeing things from the perspective of the no ice and simple Pádraic Súilleabháin, whose only ambition is to keep his life the same way it is, is a great way to frame the conflict of the story. Although the question of “how should we live our lives?” is answered in opposing ways by these two characters, it’s hard to fault either of the paths that they chose. Scenes where Pádraic tries to push his way of living onto Colm are painful because there’s no middle ground that be reached with how extreme their viewpoints are.
The Banshees of Inisherin creates a world that both informs and is informed by its characters. Inisherin on its own, is a setting that doesn’t necessarily have to be created for the story to take place (while keeping in mind the importance of the Irish Civil War.) However, the island of Ireland being so insignificant that it’s literally fictional adds so much to the idea of having a small life. And the complex inner worlds of the characters add to this setting by just reflecting on their daily lives. You feel how the smallness of Inisherin is both comforting and suffocating.
Characters have their ideas about life revealed, challenged, and changed throughout the film, offering the audience a three-dimensional and fluctuating view of them. The question How should life be lived? is asked and the meditation on that question is the source of so much of Banshee’s depth. Even though the focus is on Colm’s and Pádraic’s relationship, we get thorough looks into the lives of Siobhán and Dominic on the peripheral. Siobhán and Dominic are fascinating characters due to the role they have in Pádraic’ life and his feud. Siobhán provides strong support to Pádraic but has her own contemplation on mortality and the restrictive nature of Inisherin. It’s with her that Colm’s intense desire for a legacy becomes more easily accepted, showing that he might be right for cutting Pádraic off. Dominic is also a notable character in how he sees Pádraic as a model. Although both are dim, Pádraic’s affability shows Dominic the worth he can have in his own troubled life. But when Pádraic is no longer kind, Dominic rejects him and later commits suicide. Pádraic’s point that he tries to make to Colm throughout the movie is tragically lost on himself, as he misses how his boring, average life is actively affecting someone on Inisherin. At first for the better, then for the worse.
For as much as I appreciate all the different characters and the thematic context of their individual journeys, one large area where I feel like these vivid characterizations missed their mark was in Pádraic’s face-heel turn. It was a direction that I think took away from the film’s dramatic weight. With how comedic the film could be in its approach, I was left contemplating the degree to which it was played for laughs. Even if it was intended to be introducing drama with the lens of comedy, it didn’t work for me because the shift felt too distant from who we know Pádraic to be. Counterpoint: It feels this way because Pádraic himself isn’t used to playing the villain. The actions taken are therefore filtered through his simplistic understanding of relationships, and how his role in them is defined. I can see that his point, but I can’t buy into it when this is the point when Collin Farrell becomes stone-faced. Unfortunately, this being such an important narrative change was a low point for me by being too drastic as to how we understand Pádraic’s character.
Despite my problems with the third act, the character work done by the film is still outstanding. The way each interaction is molded by every character’s internal beliefs and external stimuli can be thoroughly dissected. There’s so much thought and intent that goes into the writing that I cannot stress enough. Through the exploration of the multiple characters, we get a layered perspective of an average life, which is quite possibly, the most human a story can get.
- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind 2/14
“I just wanted you to know there will be a piece of you in me always, and I'm grateful for that. Whatever someone you become, and wherever you are in the world, I'm sending you love.”
Her is a simple movie to dismiss as silly: “That one movie where that guy falls in love with his phone.” But the premise is really interesting to think about. The sci-fi aspect is just a vessel to explore the bigger theme of intimacy. In Her, Theodore is so afraid of intimacy that he turns to an artificial source of love. Being vulnerable is a fear that is omnipresent in Theodore’s life, that he’s forced to confront over and over again. And while the focus is on Theodore, there is a larger societal shift that is directed towards artificiality. From people hiring others to write letters to their loved ones to operating systems that are supposed to give your life direction, there’s a purposeful desire to outsource humanity. The issues this causes are multifaceted, with Theodore also being damaged by his job as a letter writer. When Samantha compliments his letters, he states that “they’re just letters. They’re just other people’s letters.” Even his own words of romance don’t belong to him; they’re written for other people. This is the way so much of Her operates: Displaying the ways relationships operate based on our choices, and especially about what we choose not to do.
Her’s beautiful cinematography adds so much atmospheric, structural, and thematic value to the story. I loved the wide shots of regular people walking around, each in their own lives, versus Theodore in these grand spaces of emptiness, emphasizing the vast magnitude of his loneliness. The mixture of warm and cool lighting also gives off this melancholy feeling. We truly feel each side of the coin that is a relationship, love on one side, and loneliness on the other. They are opposite of one another and simultaneously exist side by side. Every scene has some quality to it where I’m touched by how powerfully authentic it feels.
Theodore’s love and loneliness that he carries within himself are reiterated by the way he engages with sex. Sex is first displayed as an intimate act done by two people completely disconnected from each other, not even seeing each other. It’s a bizarre, odd, and just abnormal act, which doesn’t bring Theodore any closer to satisfaction. There is no sensuality at all. On the other hand, we get a moment between Samantha and Theodore after a date that went poorly, and we see the sensuality missing from the scene with phone sex. There is a bond and a connection made, whereas there previously was not. The soundtrack plays into these feelings of intimacy, with light strings accompanying a piano that increases in size. There is a buildup until sexuality is added to the scene, and a sonic climax, all while the audience is staring into a black screen. With nothing to see, we can completely get the feeling that is there. The attempt to force sensuality is explored again through the sex scene with the surrogate, where Theodore is uncomfortable looking at another girl and saying “I love you.” For Theodore, it seems like so much of what he seeks out or receives in life isn’t what he wants. He doesn’t want to be alone so he looks for physical intimacy, but it often further emotional distress. His problems seem to have clear, or at least common solutions, but they’re not what helps him.
Katherine and her ending relationship with Theodore is also a beautiful part of the plot that exists throughout the background of the film. Theodore knows that the relationship is over, but refuses to acknowledge it as such, putting off the signing of his divorce papers for as long as he could. So much of Theodore’s relationship with Sam is shaped by this cognitive dissonance. It’s hard for him take action that would be a tangible statement of the end of his marriage, but he also uses Sam as an emotional substitute for Katherine. When the time comes where he finally signs the papers, we see his lingering memories of Katherine in the forms of flashbacks that show what a better place in life he was, and even if it’s idealized, he’s clinging onto those memories. There’s not just the figuring out of how to move on that he’s struggling with; it’s also cultivating the desire to move on in the first place.
Through Her’s wonderfully composed score, added weight is given to Theodore’s emotions. Arcade Fire and Owen Pallett really nail tenderness and increased bursts of passion. The music is a somber soundtrack as Theodore talks to Sam about Katherine, which makes it really poignant that he isn’t ready to move on and can’t. Until Samantha convinces him to get up, and it takes on a much bouncier and upbeat tone. It’s a beautiful use of sound to magnify a moment and contribute to Theodore’s ever-changing emotional state. Similarly, Song on the Beach perfectly captures the intimate feeling of the lack of space between Samantha and Theodore, despite his being at the beach by himself. You get the sense that this is true joy for Theodore, that he is finally in a state of contentment. The vividness of the pictures that come to mind when I listen to the soundtrack is proof of its power as a tool, and it is only increased by its connections to various scenes.
The first few times I watched Her, I saw the OS leaving as a random development. It seemed like they just had to find a place to stop and try to put a bow on the movie. I still loved the film but it soured me on the ending. Now, this isn’t the case because I realize that this isn’t the ending. Theodore’s relationship with Sam was an emotional crutch from the start. He used it as a substitute to his failed marriage. So when Sam leaves him, even though she’s really pulling the rug out from under him, he’s forced to confront the reality of his emotions that he’s been slowly exposed to throughout the film. The ending of the film connects with the start and shows Theodore’s maturity. He’s no longer afraid to face his emotions. For what might be the first time, he writes a letter for himself, filled with heartfelt emotion. This is where Her’s ending is, it’s in the ending of his relationship with Katherine, where he’s truly moving on.
- Her 2/14
- High Noon 2/13/24
Tension is everything, and everything is tension. The big conflict between hero and villain is the endpoint, and the film makes that conclusion feel properly important. Seeing how the town responds to and changes due to this incoming threat was a great way to build up the climax from the beginning. With Marshall Will Kane having to rise up against a threat that’s largely unseen but definitely felt, showed the magnitude of the coming battle.
The heart of this movie lies in two big emotions: Courage and Hope. Will Kane’s unwillingness to run, to turn away from an outcome that could so easily result in his death draws the audience to him. It’s an intense feeling of rooting for someone to win not because they need the encouragement, but because you want to believe in their courage in the face of a desperate situation. And although the situation is desperate, we see the seeds of hope that are planted before noon. Many in the town are unwilling to take a stand against evil, yet Kane remains steadfast still. When we meet the few who are willing yet unable, such as 14-year-old Johnny, again Kane is steadfast still. Unlike others, the environment does not factor in his reason to take down Frank Miller; it is his sense of duty. The strength of Kane’s character in the backdrop of a town full of fear and selfishness makes for such a powerful setting. Personally, the climax is in this buildup, as the unknown is the greatest threat imaginable. While the ultimate showdown between the outlaw Miller and the hero Kane is tension-filled and dramatic, I found it serving more as the conclusion to everything before, tying a bow on Kane’s unrelenting spirit of justice.
- Watchmen 2/19/24
"What the hell happened to us? What happened to the American dream?"
"What happened to the American dream? It came true! You're looking at it."
Alan Moore’s Watchmen is a “realistic” take on superheroes. The grittiness of the world is not the endpoint; it is merely a vehicle to explore the complex moral systems that everyone operates by. I think it’s important to not mischaracterize Watchmen as a grimdark story or as one that’s hopeless. There are nihilists and idealists alike, who show that they are ultimately all just flawed human beings. Understanding this core principle of Watchmen’s story is essential for an adaptation, because without it, it wouldn’t even be Watchmen.
Unfortunately, Snyder’s take on Watchmen paints an immature and misshapen portrait of the original work. It might be unfair to call Synder’s read of Watchmen surface level when he displays a fundamental misunderstanding the story’s purpose. A great example of this can be seen in how the film portrays violence. In Moore’s Watchmen, acts of violence are put in a more serious context than in traditional superhero stories. The superheroes across Watchmen use violence against each other and civilians, showing the ugliness of these conflicts. Even a character like Rorschach, who is unfortunately misrepresented as the cool hero of Watchmen, is shown to be flawed through his violence. While it’s entertaining to see the clever ways that Rorschach takes out his opponents, at the forefront of it all is pure brutality. This severity is brought up by other characters as evidence of his psychopathy. Violence isn’t something that’s taken lightly. Contrast this with Snyder’s film, where even the smallest act violence is of course captured in slow motion, so the audience has time to drool over themselves with how cool it is. The worst offender of this is the adaptation of Hollis Mason’s death. Whereas Moore uses the moment to show the difference between Nite-Owl the hero and Hollis Mason the old man, Snyder uses the moment to show a cool last stand where Mason eventually loses, succumbing, in part, to his age. Turning the moment into a fight when it should have been a one-sided beat down, a cold and calculated murder, shows me the direction of Snyder’s vision.
The biggest offender of the changes this film makes that makes the story worse, is the changed ending. Instead of a psychic monster that kills millions in New York City, Adrian Veidt frames Doctor Manhattan with explosions all throughout Earth. In both instances, the intent is to unite the world to with a superordinate goal. However, the issue with Snyder’s change is that it presents Doctor Manhattan as an issue that is surpassed human conflict. This ignores the fact that despite the attacks happening globally, the responsibility would likely still fall on America, as Doctor Manhattan is a tool of the United States government. Since his creation, he was marketed as an asset to the country both nationally and internationally. In this scenario, Doctor Manhattan being an enemy would cause further division, because there is no clean separation of the United States and Doctor Manhattan. To me, this ending represents an attitude of carelessness, that doesn’t realize how meticulously crafted Watchmen is.
While this film doesn’t value Moore’s story, themes, and characters, it also fails to live up to the visual standards set by Dave Gibbons and John Higgins. With its famous nine-panel grid format, each panel of Watchmen is meticulously designed to show readers specific ideas, repeated images, and frame information in a structured way. There are shadows of the way information is delivered stylistically in the film, but they’re just shadows of the work of talented artists. In the comic, we see warm colors and shadows used to emphasize dramatic scenes. Symmetry is used to reflect Rorschach’s beliefs about balance. I color go on and on about the art of Watchmen and how it’s an important part of the narrative, and that’s part of the issue. Being able to convey so much information and have this much depth is because comic books are static texts and images. A movie can only hold a shot for so long, which means a lot of important visual context is left on the cutting room floor. With adaptation, changes must be made, but to treat the important visuals of Watchmen as simple flavoring, it leaves me wondering why Watchmen needs to be adapted in the first place.
Once again, I’m wondering what the point of this movie is. Despite what it may seem like, I’m not overly concerned about how the imitation doesn’t hold a candle to the original. Instead, I’m disappointed that this adaptation does nothing interesting with the change of medium. Watchmen what as a celebration of comics by showcasing the vast potential of the medium, and the limitless expression of creativity. While this film doesn’t need to do the same for movies, what does it do that makes it interesting? What does it do that makes it stand out? This gap between the two “same” stories is just embarrassing. Snyder doesn’t understand Watchmen enough to provide a serviceable adaptation, and isn’t creative enough for his interpretation to be compelling. I find it genuinely saddening that some of the most entertaining moments of the film, such as Rorschach’s time in prison, are just watered down moments from Watchmen.
With all of this being said, I don’t hate everyone about the movie.
Gerard Way’s cover of Desolation Row is great.
1.5/5
All About Lily Chou-Chou 2/19/24
Wasn’t quite for me. I think part of the reason why it didn’t resonate with me is because it puts a spotlight on Japanese society in a way that probably caused some culture shock, and how depressing it was. I also was way off base with the opening, and mixing up Shusuke and Yuichi through the flashbacks and time skips. I felt like the level of pure bleakness was just painful to get through and didn’t lead to a super meaningful conclusion. It’s like I was waiting for a follow-up response that never came. “Bullying is bad.” And then what? While I’m pretty cool off the plot, I have to say that All About Lily Chou-Chou is weird in a way that I wish a lot of movies would be bold enough to try. Plus the colors, lighting, and the soundtrack are indeed very cool.
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