Eight Hours of Ozu: “Tokyo Story”, “Good Morning”, “Late Autumn”, and “An Autumn Afternoon” Review

If you do a simple search for great Japanese films, it will undoubtedly lead to the Tokyo born director Yasujiro Ozu at some point.  Along with Akira Kurosawa, Ozu is one of the true titans of Japanese cinema.  On a technical level, he is renowned for his keen eye and invention of the “tatami shot”, in which a scene is filmed from a kneeling position, as if amongst the characters.  Though I have much more Ozu to explore, especially his earlier work, four films from his later collection have captured my attention: “Tokyo Story”, “Good Morning”, “Late Autumn” and “An Autumn Afternoon”. 

            From a distance, Ozu’s films do not look much different from one another. On a base level, Ozu reuses actors as frequently as I have ever seen a director do.  The tall, gaunt, and soft-voiced Chishu Ryu makes an appearance in all four films, with a leading role in two of them.  Keiji Sada shows up as the shy eligible bachelor in “Good Morning” and “Late Autumn”.  The fair, comforting Setsuko Hara plays a major role in two of the four films.  Other actors include Nobuo Nakamura and Haruko Sugimura, who almost always portray well meaning, but somewhat rude characters.  Stylistically, Ozu does not play around with different film styles, nor does he take on particularly dramatic plot lines.  Furthermore, each of the four films I watched had very similar themes.  Ozu focuses on lower-middle-class families, and dynamics that arise when certain family members are in a transition period of life.  In “Tokyo Story” this transition involves an elderly couple, whose children are all grown-up, and too busy to host them properly for a visit to Tokyo.  “Late Autumn” is the story of a widow and her daughter, both of whom weigh the prospects of marriage.  “An Autumn Afternoon”, similarly, is about a widower who must come to terms with his only daughter leaving the house to get married.  Perhaps most unique of the bunch is the plot of “Good Morning”, in which a delightfully defiant pair of children refuse to speak to their parents until they agree to buy them a TV.

            While none of these stories sound particularly exciting or insightful on the surface, the simplicity of the basic plots allows us to focus more on the details of each conversation.  By the end of the films, Ozu always shows us something profound.  “Tokyo Story”, “Late Autumn”, and “An Autumn Afternoon” share a message about the importance of family: and the tough sacrifices that must be made for those we love.  As a lighter narrative, “Good Morning” offers an often-hilarious message about the wisdom of children, and the roundabout ways in which adults communicate on a day-to-day basis.  What can be said for every film is that Ozu is most concerned with progression of family, whether that is the start of a new one, or the late flickers of an old one.

            Ultimately, this attribute of Ozu’s stories can be better understood through the lens of a post-war Japan.  After World War II, Japan was in ruins, with the majority their major cities destroyed by firebombing.  Furthermore, the nation had been a notoriously bad actor on the losing side of the war.  While no nation is immune to committing wartime atrocities, Japan racked up a particularly sinister bill during the Imperial Era.  From kamikaze pilots to death marches to human trafficking and mass executions: Japan had a lot to confront after their defeat.  Hence, the Japanese had to literally rebuild their country, and perhaps even more difficult, forge a new identity.  Ozu’s stories take place in this rebirth, which was hugely influenced by American values at that time. 

            In this context, Ozu’s films present a somewhat idealized society.  The neighborhood setting of “Good Morning” is not unlike the “Levittowns” of the 1950s and 60s with dense neighborhoods full of identical houses: the main difference is that the linoleum floors have been swapped with tatami mats.  Furthermore, Ozu always presents nuclear families in a sometimes stunningly patriarchal society.  One scene in “Late Autumn” speaks to this dated dynamic when a man named Taguchi (Nobuo Nakamura) returns home from work, casually tossing his suit coat and pocket square onto the ground for his wife to pick up.  Ozu also rarely shows women outside of the household, while he devotes seemingly endless scenes to men drinking at bars, izakayas, and on one occasion a golf course.  On yet another level, the women in these films are almost always married, widowed, or going to be married: match-making is a huge element in many of the plot lines. 

            While some of the societal customs in Ozu’s films are not the best, especially for women, there is something to be said for the old-school ways.  For example, there is a scene in “An Autumn Afternoon”, in which a father speaks to his daughter right before her wedding ceremony that struck me as particularly powerful.  The daughter, masterfully portrayed by Shima Iwashita, is visibly shaken as she prepares for the ceremony.  There is a sense of excitement, but also fear, as she speaks with her father.  In the society where Ozu tells his stories, men and women have extremely conservative relationships prior to marriage.  Thus, the prospect of living away from home with a partner for life, adds an almost crushing importance to the wedding night.  Today, couples spend months, even years together before tying the knot, often sharing a living space beforehand.  I’m not making a moral judgment here, but it is obvious that marriage in modern society has lost some of its weight, at least as far as the wedding night goes.  That scene from “An Autumn Afternoon” simply doesn't look or feel the same, if it took place in 2017.

            This idea is even more apparent in the theme of parental care that strings together all of the films.  Ozu places hefty importance on children caring for their parents, and on the flip side, parents allowing their children to start lives of their own.  In “Tokyo Story”, an elderly couple visits the big city to see their children and grandchildren.  When they are largely neglected, the couple is shown attention and kindness by their widowed daughter-in-law.  Ozu does not demonize the negligent offspring, but his point is clear: children must allow time for their parents in adulthood.  This position is qualified in “An Autumn Afternoon”, in which a widower realizes he must inspire his only daughter to be married and move out of the house. Taking care of your parents, as well as relinquishing the company of your children, requires sacrifice.  It is in these moments of unselfishness that Ozu’s characters become heroic.  But, in our modern society, such sacrifice is not encouraged to the same degree. 

            Ultimately, the films of Yasujiro Ozu are not only deeply thoughtful, subtly compelling, and beautifully filmed works, they also offer a vision frozen in time.  Watching these films I could not help but feel somewhat sentimental, as I live in an era of rapid progressivism and fading traditional families, and found myself somewhat sorry not to have been able to experience Ozu’s world first hand.  But the power of the movies is that the very best of them convey messages that transcend their basic context.  On my own life journey, I will certainly revisit Ozu, because I have a feeling his insights will become even clearer and more important over time.

"Blade Runner 2049" Review

OP-ROB RATING: ALL-STAR

      In the year 2049, San Diego will be a wasteland with nothing but rusty scraps and underground child slave labor.  Los Angeles will look something like the 1927 expressionist classic “Metropolis” except with a hefty injection of Japanese marketing and about a 10000% increase in smog.  Such is the physical setting for “Blade Runner 2049” in which Ryan Gosling portrays Officer K, a blade runner for the LAPD.  A blade runner is someone who retires/kills replicants.  Replicants are bioengineered androids who serve as slaves for the modern society.  Sometimes these replicants go rogue, and must be hunted down.  With the lingo mostly out of the way, it is important to note that Officer K is also a replicant.  However, K is a superior model with a stronger knack for following orders.  Officer K subsists day-to-day braving the harsh weather while hunting down these rogue replicants and hanging out with his holographic girlfriend Joi (Ana de Armas) in the occasional downtime.  Poor Ryan Gosling must be wishing he was still stuck in the sunny traffic back in “La La Land”. 

                The opening of “Blade Runner 2049” sets the stage for the rest of the movie, as K travels in his police spinner (a flying car) to a remote protein farm somewhere outside of LA.  He is in search of a rogue replicant named Sapper Morton (Dave Bautista).  Sure enough, K encounters Morton on site, but also discovers a buried trunk containing the bones and hair of a female replicant.  Back in LA, the bones are analyzed and the cause of death is revealed to be related to childbirth.  If the data lines up, then the autopsy means that replicants can reproduce.  Lieutenant Joshi (Robin Wright), K’s superior, emphatically notes that this discovery “breaks the world” and Officer K is sent to investigate.

                The themes in “Blade Runner 2049” swirl around the same questions from its 1982 prequel, “Blade Runner”, in which a blade runner named Deckard (Harrison Ford) chased around a particularly evasive group of rogue replicants.  These questions are essentially, can androids have feelings?  And if so, does this make them human?  If replicants could reproduce it would be a huge leap toward answering those questions.  It would also spell major trouble for the world order, which relies on what amounts to slave labor on part of the replicants, including K. 

                “Blade Runner 2049” is directed by Denis Villaneuve, whose previous work includes “Prisoners” in 2013, “Sicario” in 2015, and “Arrival” in 2016.  The guy has been on quite a roll, and it is safe to say that “Blade Runner 2049” is another check in the win category.  Villaneuve’s visuals do justice towards Ridley Scott’s original 1982 vision.  The world of “Blade Runner 2049” is a delicious blend of futuristic noire.  There are more than a few scenes in which K shuffles the streets with the collar of his trench coat popped to his eyes as to keep out rain, dust, or the toxic neon glow of suggestive billboards.  To accompany these visually rich scenes is a chilling score by Hans Zimmer and Benjamin Wallfisch.  The theme from the 1982 film is also employed to bolster sentiment for admirers of the original.

                However, these incredible facets alone would invoke a tepid response if it weren’t for a rock-solid cast and a crisp storyline.  Ryan Gosling is superb in the lead, and Jared Leto provides an equally compelling performance as Niander Wallace, the sinister manufacturer of replicants.  Harrison Ford makes a return as Deckard nearly halfway through the film, and carries the role brilliantly with his old brooding expression and sturdy stride.  Somehow Ford’s appearance is far more apt in “Blade Runner 2049” than it was in “Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens”.  In the film, Deckard is a pivotal character in a fresh story, rather than merely a familiar face meant to appease the old guard.  In fact, the ambiguity of the original “Blade Runner” serves its sequel well, as the story is able to take surprising turns in an established setting.  The pacing of “Blade Runner 2049” also seems to glide along more smoothly than its predecessor, even with a nearly three-hour runtime.

On the whole “Blade Runner 2049” succeeds in the same fashion as its predecessor, through stunning, noire-ish visuals and an intriguing story.  However, I believe both “Blade Runner” films lack something, as if there is a kind of emptiness ringing out at the core of Ridley Scott’s brilliant futuristic world.  I cannot say, with either film, that I truly understand all facets of the story.  “Blade Runner 2049” certainly brings things into focus regarding the first film, but never ties up all the loose ends.  Perhaps we are being strung along for a few more sequels.  Or, perhaps “Blade Runner” relies on unanswered questions to retain its mystique.  Another Ridley Scott franchise, “Alien”, has reemerged in the past couple years with “Prometheus” and “Alien: Covenant”.  These two films revealed too much information, thereby diluting the creepy unknown that defined the very best movies of the canon.  Ultimately, my biggest complaint with “Blade Runner 2049” may also be a compliment.  The film retains the all-important shroud.  More importantly, “Blade Runner 2049” is a work of fine filmmaking on every level, and offers thrilling entertainment to boot. 

"It" Review

OP-ROB RATING: STARTER

Clowns have never been a particularly strong source of fright for me. Perhaps that is because I grew up decades after Bozo’s Circus would have been on TV and the part-time clown and serial killer John Wayne Gacy committed his appalling crimes. Nonetheless, there is something eerily strange about a full-grown man dressed up in makeup, with dyed hair and a colorful outfit with buttons and tassels.  Furthermore, there is something downright terrifying about one of those men coaxing a small child into a storm drain.  Such a situation is the opening scene of Andy Muschietti’s new horror film, “It”, an adaption of Stephen King’s 1986 novel.

The main characters are the self-deemed “Losers”, a group middle school-aged misfits led by Bill (Jaeden Lieberher), a scrawny boy who struggles with a stutter. Other members of The Losers are Mike (Chosen Jacobs) one of the few black kids in town who is well-versed in local folklore, Eddie (Jack Dylan Grazer) who is overly cautious and seemingly always sick, a fat kid named Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor), Stan the germaphobe (Wyatt Oleff), the foul-mouthed Richie (Finn Wolfhard) who wears glasses as thick as a window pane, and finally Bev (Sophia Lillis) a pretty girl who has been unfairly outcast as a slut by everyone at school.  It is a big crew, with many of the members being drawn in out of fear for the town bully, Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton), who sadistically terrorizes them with a pocketknife. 

However, it is not Henry Bowers who poses the main threat to The Losers, or their small town of Derry, Maine in general.  The aforementioned child who is unfortunate enough to happen upon the storm drain is Bill’s younger brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott), who in the introduction run downs his neighborhood street chasing a paper boat swiftly floating through the gutter in a rainstorm.  The boat takes an ill-fated turn into a storm drain, where upon investigation Georgie is surprised to come face-to-face with an impish looking clown clutching his boat.  The clown introduces himself as Pennywise the Dancing Clown (Bill Skarsgård) and proceeds to entice Georgie to reach into the drain for his boat.  The rest of the scene makes for unpleasant viewing, and the start of many hauntings that will threaten the existence of The Losers.

As far as performances, the kids work together nicely enough, yet the utmost praise goes to Skarsgård in the role of Pennywise.  While his clown attire is nothing short of disturbing, his manner of speech is at once inviting and repulsive.  You can see in the scene with Georgie how his slick tongue is tricky enough to cajole especially younger children.  The most spine-chilling scenes are those in which Pennywise is given the floor to talk without interruption.  Yet the bulk of the thrill is devoted to pop-ups and blatant special effects.  In the horror genre, pop-ups and brief scares can only do so much.  The greatest moments of dread are instead built on patience and sure-handed direction.  Would “Get Out” have the same petrifying effect if Chris’ experience at the Armitage house weren’t a steady escalation of weird situations?  Would the climax of “The Silence of the Lambs” be as thrilling if Clarice were absolutely positive of Buffalo Bill’s house when she knocked on the door?  Obviously not!  Great horror requires great endurance, and “It” lacks such focus. 

The supposed “scariest” scenes in the film are hit-and-run in nature.  Pennywise never traps us in a way that sucks the air out of the theater.  In one of the scenes documented by the theatrical trailer, Pennywise uses a mirage of Georgie to lure Bill into his flooded basement cellar.  Georgie runs into the corner and invites Bill to join him saying, “You’ll float too”, over and over.  Georgie rapidly speeds up his tone as Pennywise rises out of the water and rushes Bill.  The scene is over in seconds and is a prime example of how “It” speeds up where it should slow down.  In too many instances the scares are too rushed.

Though “It” flails around with many scenes, the movie as a whole is superior to your average horror flick.  As we find out throughout the film, Pennywise is not the only monster lurking beneath the warm small-town vibes of the fictional town of Derry, Maine.  Almost every one of the main characters comes from dysfunctional or abusive families, Bev especially.  This David Lynch-ian dynamic is perfectly set up in the opening of the film in which Bill crafts the paper boat for his little brother.  In the scene, Bill waterproofs the cute little boat using wax from a box labeled “Gulf Wax” in 80s style lettering.  Georgie then runs out into the quaint neighborhood with his classic yellow rain jacket, only to encounter a horrifying monster at the end of his outing.  This idea of underlying darkness adds an impressively deep element to an otherwise ho-hum string of jolts.

Even more apparent is the theme of childhood fear, which Pennywise exploits to torment his victims and feed his own power.  Each child in the crew is haunted by a personal ghost.  By the end of the film, the main characters are forced to either overcome their inner demons, or succumb to the killer clown.  Although “It” isn’t a film I would want see multiple times, it bears a compelling message and a unique approach that will endure much as its original material has. 

"Wind River" Review

OP-ROB RATING: ALL-STAR

“Wind River” is a 2017 mystery-thriller written and directed by Taylor Sheridan.   The film is set entirely on the Wind River Indian Reservation in remote Wyoming, and stars Jeremy Renner as Cory Lambert, a United States Fish and Wildlife Service agent whose primary job is hunting down harmful predators such as coyotes and mountain lions. On one of his tracking missions Lambert finds the dead body of a young Indian woman out on the frozen tundra, miles from any shelter and without shoes on.  Lambert immediately identifies signs of foul play, and also recognizes the girl as a resident of the reservation.  He also reports the discovery to Ben (Graham Greene) the wryly intuitive chief of tribal police.  To streamline the investigation, Ben contacts the FBI.

Subsequently, Agent Jane Banner (Elizabeth Olsen) rolls into the reservation with little more than a windbreaker.  She chatters in the cold, explaining that she was the closest agent to Wind River having been stationed in Las Vegas.  After getting properly outfitted and scoping the evidence, Banner realizes she needs Lambert to help her solve the case, and she convinces him to help.  With Lambert onboard the rest of the film plays out clue-by-clue, which leads to surprisingly dark corners of the Wind River reservation and beyond.  The film is a directorial debut for Sheridan, but he has written the films “Sicario” and “Hell or High Water”.  Similar to those earlier films, “Wind River” has western roots and ultimately boils down to heroes, villains, and justice. However, as people who have seen his earlier written films will know, Sheridan’s neo-western style is anything but blatant when it comes to plot.  And with this outing he has swapped the more typical dusty landscapes of Texas and Mexico for the near-arctic conditions of central Wyoming. 

For a directorial debut, “Wind River” is impressive but not without a few glaring faults.  For example, more than a few scenes are dominated by a crippling need to display cowboy machismo.  As exemplified by his actions, Lambert is a grit-n-grind badass, yet many scenes have swaths of extra dialogue hammering that in.  Further on the point of dialogue, the film simply has too much.  Many scenes don’t need explanation yet the characters talk anyway. The visuals have the potency to drive the narrative, yet Sheridan insists on telling us everything anyway.  “Wind River” could learn a thing or two from the Coen Brothers’ masterpiece “No Country for Old Men”, which does an excellent job of showing rather than explaining. One of the first scenes in “No Country” sets up the premise by showing a hunter stumbling upon a suitcase full of drug money.  The sequence is near silent, save for the barren hum of the open plains.  “Wind River” also takes place out west, and Sheridan could easily replace redundant clue-discussion for the sound of icy Wyoming wind.  In the same fashion, “Wind River” has an overlong ending it mistakes for thoroughness.  After the thrilling climax of the film, there are multiple scenes wrapping up every loose end with even more talking. 

Save for the occasionally over-saturated scenes, “Wind River” is as exhilarating as its harsh backdrop.  The ample murder-mystery plotline is supplemented with a great performance by Renner, and an even more compelling one from Olsen.  Who knew?  Also, as far as pure thrill, “Wind River” pushes you to the edge of your seat more than a few times.  In one scene that jolts the senses, Banner is blasted with pepper spray before rushing into a junkie-infested trailer, near-blind. It reminded me a bit of the pulse-pounding culmination of “Silence of the Lambs” in which Agent Starling enters Buffalo Bill’s lair.

Taken as a whole, “Wind River” is a brisk addition to the late-summer movie round up.  The fact that it also bears an overarching message about living conditions on Indian reservations is a surprising, and research-worthy gesture.  As hard-hitting as the land it takes place on, “Wind River” is rock-solid viewing for folks who enjoy a thrilling murder-mystery with a subtle dash of Western attitude. 

"Detroit" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BENCH

“Detroit” is a period drama directed by Kathryn Bigelow about the 12th Street Riot that took place in the city of Detroit, Michigan in 1967.  While a slice of the movie is dedicated to showing what ignited the four-day riot, the main focus is on events that took place in the Algiers Motel on July 25th and 26th.  The background of what would become known as “The Algiers Motel Incident” was this: in the heat of the riot a group of white Detroit police officers breached the Algiers Motel on the suspicion that a sniper was inside.  Upon arriving, the officers gathered up the residents consisting of several young black men, along with two white women.  Ultimately, three of the black men were shot and killed in the hotel, while the survivors testified that they had been interrogated and tortured by the Detroit police officers.  While Bigelow acknowledges that much is unknown from what happened that night, she strings a tense narrative along certain facts, and statements made by those involved.

After a brief illustrated introduction explains the Great Migration and the growing civil unrest in Detroit, the opening live-action scenes of the film portray the event that sparked the riot.  A group of Detroit Police Officers storm a local speakeasy and proceed to force the partygoers outside into the street.  You can see the commanding officers get antsy as angry residents of the neighborhood crowd the area.  Soon after the police evacuate with their prisoners, the crowd breaks into a destructive riot. 

Once the chaos is spread city-wide, we are introduced to Philip Krauss (Will Poulter), a reckless and hateful police officer who guns down an unarmed looter in the street.  Krauss, along with some comparably evil cops soon descend on the Algiers Motel where they suspect sniper fire.  A good-hearted, but hesitant black security guard named Melvin Dismukes (John Boyega) goes along with them. Inside the Motel they find several young black men and two white women, all of whom we have been introduced to and know to be innocent.  However, Krauss and his men are determined to find a gun, and begin to harass their captives.  The story unfolds from there.

From start to finish, “Detroit” is very straightforward.  Poulter and Boyega are solid leads, and the tortured youth are strongly portrayed by Anthony Mackie, Algee Smith, Jacob Lattimore, Hannah Murray, Nathan Davis Jr., and Kaitlyn Dever.  After the incident, John Krasinski shows up as the slick lawyer to defend the cops in court.  Bigelow’s direction is consistent and assured, and in the scenes of rioting there is shocking and powerful imagery.  Yet, “Detroit” is not a pleasant viewing.  Many scenes make you churn inside with their brutality and intensity. 

However, the most powerful scene in “Detroit” does not take place inside the terror-ridden Algiers Motel, nor does it take place in the raging streets of Detroit.  Rather, it is staged in a quiet house where the father of a victim returns home early from work having received a call that his son may be dead.  The father, portrayed by Gbenga Akinnagbe, solemnly collects a stack of picture frames to bring to the morgue for body identification.  We know that his son is dead, and it seems that he does as well.  It is a moment in the film in which seconds feel like hours.  Such moments are rare in “Detroit”, which is dominated by nerve-rattling horror.  Someone leaving the theater mentioned that by the end of the ordeal at the Algiers, they felt numbed to all the violence.  Films should never have that effect if they desire to convey a message.

By the end of the film I think most people will feel some blend of frustrated, angry, and saddened. Some might just feel stunned.  But what comes after the film are grand questions.  From one viewpoint, “Detroit” visualizes how difficult it is to be good police.  The riot starts because of a harmless party, that was indeed serving alcohol without a liquor license.  That is illegal, and brings into question when and where cops draw the line.  Furthermore, the film made me question what it takes for an officer to perform his job in a racially charged atmosphere, whether that be Detroit in 1967 or Chicago in 2017.  As for the victims, it prompts the question, why did things like this happen? And why do they still happen today?  The answer is complex, steeped in history, and constantly in transformation.  I do not believe one film could ever adequately address the racial problems in America.  However, a filmmaker like Bigelow could at least try to, or perhaps address one single angle of such a looming issue.  “Detroit” does not do either, and this failure acts to wrap the film in a neat little time capsule. Granted, the product is disturbing and effective.  Nonetheless, “Detroit” does little more than deal a matter-of-fact kind of gut-punch that leaves you sore for explanation.

"The Big Sick" Review

OP-ROB RATING: ALL-STAR

“The Big Sick” is a romantic-comedy set in Chicago about a stand-up comedian named Kumail (Kumail Nanjiani) who falls in love with an aspiring psychiatrist named Emily (Zoe Kazan).  Kumail comes from a  Pakastani Muslim family that fervently clings to certain traditions such as daily prayer and arranged marriage.  Emily is the daughter of an odd couple comprised of a coarse East Carolina woman named Beth (Holly Hunter) and a deadpan Brooklyn native named Terry (Ray Romano).  The movie starts off like any other rom-com with a zippy introduction that brings Kumail and Emily together as boyfriend and girlfriend.  However, the relationship is fractured when Emily discovers that Kumail cannot commit to her because of his family’s insistence that he marry a Pakastani woman.  They break up, and almost immediately afterwards Emily falls extremely ill and winds up at the hospital. 

For one reason or another, Kumail is the first person to arrive at the hospital where the doctors tell him that Emily needs to be put into a medically induced coma for the safety of her vital organs.  Soon after, Beth and Terry arrive at the hospital where they begrudgingly interact with Kumail.  Beth is especially caustic toward her daughter’s ex-boyfriend.  However, Kumail refuses to abandon the situation and spends the next several days visiting the hospital right alongside Beth and Terry.  “The Big Sick” focuses mainly on their developing relationship.

Purely as a rom-com, “The Big Sick” isn’t noteworthy.  First, the “romance” between Kumail and Emily barely gets going before they break up and she gets sick.  Although I won’t reveal what happens to Emily, the denouement is skimpy on grand gestures.  On the comedy side, there is an absence of laugh-out-loud moments in the film, which seems criminal regarding Kumail’s profession as a stand-up comedian.  Adding intrigue to “The Big Sick’s” lackluster performance as a rom-com is the fact that it was produced by Judd Apatow. Over his career Apatow has directed and/or produced titles such as “The 40-Year-Old Virgin”, “Knocked Up”, “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” and “Trainwreck” just to name a few.  If anyone knows how to crank out a hilarious, yet subtly touching rom-com it would be Apatow.

It would seem that failing to impress its genre would doom “The Big Sick”.  Yet, it doesn’t. Where “The Big Sick” transcends its tepid rom-com roots is through a finely tuned cast and an authentic approach to age-old, universal conflicts.  While Kumail Nanjiani and Zoe Kazan are both charming in their respective roles, the real stars of the film are the parents.  Holly Hunter and Ray Romano bring a startling intensity to the movie from their very first scene.  As we discover later on, Beth and Terry have relationship struggles of their own, and looking back on the film you can detect that tension before we get to know them as characters.  Although slightly less utilized, Anupam Kher and Zenobia Shroff are equally as effective portraying Kumail’s parents.  There are a number of masterfully awkward, squirm-worthy scenes in which Mrs. Nanjiani invites eager young Pakistani women into family dinners to meet Kumail.  “Look who just decided dropped in,” she’ll say when escorting the beautiful young women to a seat next to the unenthusiastic Kumail at the dinner table.

With such focused performances, “The Big Sick” delivers a number poignant moments between characters that cut right to the heart of complex arguments.  For example, in one scene Kumail and his parents have a quarrel about his detestation of arranged marriage.  When Kumail takes his stand, his parents respond by making the point that they forfeited a comfortable life in Pakistan to move to the United States.  Furthermore, they allowed their son to pursue his dream as a stand-up comedian rather than pursuing a steadier career.  With so much sacrifice the least Kumail could do would be to marry a Pakistani girl, right?  In this scene you feel the weight behind each argument, and it pulls you apart.  This scene is just one of many that have a paralyzing effect the viewer because of their honesty and passion. 

Ultimately, I didn’t walk out of “The Big Sick” feeling uplifted or heart warmed.  Rather, I felt shaken by the authenticity of many individual scenes. Even though I have next to nothing in common with any of the characters, I resonated with their problems in pieces of my own life.  As is revealed in the credits, “The Big Sick” is based on Kumail Namjiani’s real-life story.  Perhaps such an impressive level of clarity on such intricate struggles requires fact-based inspiration.

"Dunkirk" Review

OP-ROB RATING: STARTER

“Dunkirk” is a 2017 war film directed by Christopher Nolan about the evacuation of Dunkirk during World War II, between May 26th and June 4th, 1940.  The evacuation involved hundreds of thousands of British and French soldiers who were cornered by the German army.  While the evacuation was the result of a horrendous military defeat, the Allies' survival is celebrated as a miracle rescue in the face of certain death.  A failed evacuation could have resulted in a German invasion of Britain, and an Axis victory in the war.

The film stars an ensemble cast including Mark Rylance, Tom Hardy, Kenneth Branagh, Fionn Whitehead, Jack Lowden, Cillian Murphy, and Harry Styles among others.  To describe each character would be tedious and unhelpful, as the general structure of the film has almost nothing to do with their personal identities.  With the characters as placeholders, “Dunkirk” is organized into three plot lines that occur in separate spans of time, each depicting a different backdrop of the evacuation.  At one point during the film all them overlap.  This is signature Nolan, who has played with time structures in several of his films including “Memento” and “Inception”.  The first plot line is titled “The Mole”, and lasts for one-week detailing activities on the beach at Dunkirk and the mad scramble of soldiers desperately trying to hitch a boat ride back to England.  The second plot line, “The Sea” takes place in one day, and portrays British locals who are tasked with taking a day-boat across the channel to help rescue soldiers.  The final, and most briefly framed segment is “The Air”, and stars Tom Hardy as a daring Spitfire pilot whose story takes place in one hour.  Despite the disparities of the time frames, each “chapter” is given roughly the same amount of screen time. 

As far as construction, “Dunkirk” reminds me a lot of Alfonso Cuarón’s 2013 film, “Gravity”.  Both are a series of thrilling near-death experiences from which characters must narrowly escape.  This, along with an extremely loud score by Hans Zimmer, provide consistent tension to the movie.  Furthermore, the constant noise and action lend precious little time for talking amongst characters.  As Nolan explained in an interview with Premiere, “I did not want to go through the dialogue, to tell the story of my characters…The only question I was interested in was: Will they get out of it? Will they be killed by the next bomb while trying to join the mole? Or will they be crushed by a boat while crossing?”

The Nolan effect works best with films that have muddled plots.  Take “The Dark Knight Rises” as the premiere example.  It is a stirring, visually spectacular film, but its plot has more holes than the Brooklyn Net’s roster and the narrative is absurd when you map it out scene by scene.  Such is the case with all super-hero films. Men and women in full costume fighting crime is comical when applied to the real world. Yet with his “Dark Knight” films Nolan was able to distract the audience enough to make his corner of the super-hero genre look and sound serious.  It is an incredible skill and it is also Nolan’s biggest weakness as a director. Unlike the “Dark Knight Trilogy”, “Dunkirk” is based on a true story.  The Nolan distraction is grand and inspiring, but lacks context and continuity.  I didn’t learn much of anything about Dunkirk while watching “Dunkirk”.

When all of the visual grandeur and ear-blasting sound is stripped away, there are precious few moments worth remembering from the film.  One of them occurs near the end, in which a boatload of soldiers arrive home in England.  The downtrodden men shuffle toward a train where volunteers hand out tea and biscuits.  An elderly man with his head down hands out blankets telling the men, “well done” as he distributes them.  Styles’ character receives his blanket and, out of shame, tells the old man “we just survived”. The old man responds, “that is enough” and continues passing out blankets and telling the defeated soldiers, “well done”.  In the end, this scene is the most poignant in all of “Dunkirk”.  It is a subtle message about patriotism, the value of survival, the wisdom of old men, and the importance of morale. 

The best war movies have moments with characters we feel we know as an audience.  Something changes in those characters, and that change reflects a greater truth about the nature of war.  “Dunkirk” is a finely crafted emotional squall, but it’s overall message is lost in the tumult.  Nolan is particularly skilled at sustaining a feeling of “epicness” throughout a scene.  No other director can really compare.  I walked out of the theater with tears in my eyes.  Yet, an hour later when thinking about the message of “Dunkirk”, I couldn’t point to a wire-to-wire narrative and say “Yes! This is what ‘Dunkirk’ is really about.”  Ultimately, I think it’s worth looking back at that quote from Nolan in his interview, because I think he succeeds in his mission.  In terms of a thrill-ride, “Dunkirk” is top of the line.  The sound, the visuals, the acting, the music…  it is all very high quality.  However, as a deeper exploration into the nature of war and a documentation of a major historical event, “Dunkirk” barely scratches the surface.

"Tommy's Honour" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BENCH

“Tommy’s Honour” is a 2016 Scottish film directed by Jason Connery.  The film is a historical drama about the father-son pair of Old Tom Morris and Young Tom Morris, portrayed by Peter Mullan and Jack Lowden, respectively.  Widely renowned as the grandfather of golf, Old Tom was the greenskeeper at St. Andrews golf links in Scotland for most of the 19th century and was instrumental in starting The Open Championship.  In fact, Old Tom Morris struck the first shot in the first ever Open in 1860.  Furthermore, Old Tom and his namesake were dominant golfers for their time.  A quick glance over the earliest winners of the Open Championship reveals the supremacy of the Morris clan.  Of the first eight Open Championships, Old Tom Morris won four with his final victory coming in 1867.  Subsequently Young Tom Morris took over, winning the next four consecutive Opens . “Tommy’s Honour” focuses on the period in which Young Tom took over as the preeminent golfer between the duo.

The game of golf played in “Tommy’s Honour” does not much resemble the modern variation.  The greens look more like the second cut of rough and the shoddily crafted balls are propped up on little piles of sand instead of wooden tees.  “Tommy’s Honour” depicts the game in its infancy.  A typical player in the film also doesn’t quite fit the modern mold.  With the exception of a few Scottish and English elites, the game is played by gruff, heavy-drinking, fighting men of the lower classes.  And the very best players, like Tom Morris the elder and younger, are plucked by the wealthy club members to compete in matches for the sake of big betting.  It is in this context of early golf that “Tommy’s Honour” works best as a film.  The stark backdrop of St. Andrews provides several scenes that are both beautiful, and serviceable to the golf action.  On a grander scale, “Tommy’s Honour” performs strongly as a period piece.  The film feels securely authentic with remarkable costumes and swaths of accent-heavy dialogue. For non-Scots, subtitles may be necessary.

However, despite the success of “Tommy’s Honour” in these distinct areas, the film flounders with a generic, often gimmicky plot and choppy momentum. Over the course of the film Young Tom “invents” backspin, grooved wedges, and the golf bag.  With each invention there is an eye-roll worthy presentation that bogs down the pace and smudges the historical accuracy of the film.  And while golf is certainly the focus of “Tommy’s Honour”, there are a few token subplots headlined by a romance between Young Tom and a woman named Margaret (Ophelia Lovibond) as well as a class-struggle theme involving the Captain of St. Andrews Golf Club, Alexander Boothby (Sam Neill).  Neither storyline proves too memorable, even though Margaret ends up having a key role in the ending of the film.

Perhaps the most identifiable flaw underpinning “Tommy’s Honour” is the slapdash cutting style from scene to scene.  The most blatant examples occur when the story transitions from a golf-action scene to a domestic one, and vice versa.  In one sequence we are thrown into the tail end of a random golf match in which Young Tom sinks a winning putt without any lead up or explanation. Near the end of the film one of the characters is portrayed as falling into alcoholism, which is depicted in scenes of him drinking in three different locations consecutively without any dialogue.  These transitions are disorientating and quite frankly bizarre.

Ultimately for those who love the history of golf, “Tommy’s Honour” could be an entertaining trip back in time.  However, for the average viewer the film falls short.  A film with so many solid pieces shouldn’t have the overall feel of a straight-to-DVD feature.

"Hitchcock/Truffaut" Review

OP-ROB RATING: ALL-STAR

“Hitchcock/Truffaut” is a 2015 documentary film, readily available on HBO, directed by Kent Jones that details the inception of film director François Truffaut’s 1966 book Hitchcock/Truffaut.  The book was essentially the documentation of a series of conversations between Truffaut and Hitchcock.  The documentary spends a little time explaining how Truffaut reached out to Hitchcock, seeking to interview him about each and every one of his fifty-plus films and thereby capture the decision making process of the director.  But even more, Truffaut wanted to show the world that Hitchcock was one of the great auteurs, thus liberating him from his widespread reputation as merely an entertainer for the masses.  Since being published, Hitchcock/Truffaut has become a mainstay on the bookshelf of every film director.  “Hitchcock/Truffaut” is the story of the book, and its incredible effect on the movie world.

Purely as a documentary, “Hitchcock/Truffaut” moves very fast.  It is accompanied by an intense, zingy violin score that keeps tensions high.  Furthermore, the film features dozens of written documents gliding across the screen: letters from Truffaut and Hitchcock, director’s notes, and excerpts from the Hitchcock/Truffaut book.  The style of the documentary is like Ken Burns on amphetamines.  However, instead of losing impact, the fast pace keeps the subject of the film fresh, and forces the viewer to focus.  Aside from the accompanying texts, “Hitchcock/Truffaut” primarily features scenes from Hitchcock films, with a bevy of talking heads commenting on his directorial characteristics.  Amongst the interviewees are Martin Scorsese, Wes Anderson, David Fincher, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, and Richard Linklater.

“Hitchcock/Truffaut” details many different aspects of Hitchcock as a director, one such being his unpopularity among the actors he employed.  He could be almost draconian in his direction, never allowing his actors to stray from his own specific vision.  While discussing Hitchcock’s often rocky relationships with his actors, David Fincher makes the point that while acting is important, it is merely a single aspect of filmmaking.  It is easy to forget that.  In a given scene, the actors demand much more attention than things like the angle of the camera, or the lighting of the backdrop.  However, in every film these seemingly minor details require just as much decision making as the casting of the characters.  “Hitchcock/Truffaut” sheds light on the Hitchcock style, and the layers of decisions that went into it. It also realigns the viewers intake of films in general.

For many of those who see the documentary, “Hitchcock/Truffaut’s” analysis of the famed fetishes that riddled “Vertigo” might be most enjoyable.  Others might marvel at the frame-by-frame dissection of the scarring shower scene from “Psycho”.  It is indeed remarkable to listen to Hitchcock’s voiceovers explaining his craft.  However, in a grander sense, “Hitchcock/Truffaut” struck me in the way it revealed the interconnectedness of film.  As Hitchcock says in the documentary, the “power of the cinema” is drawn from its role as “the greatest known mass-medium there is in the world.”  For Hitchcock’s films this certainly rings true.  “Psycho” is the kind of movie almost everyone sees, and almost everyone is shocked by.  However, watching the varying directors who lend their voices to the documentary, you can also see how Hitchcock’s work penetrated even the most disparate filmmakers.  In what other context do you bring together the charming, detail-obsessed Wes Anderson and the precise, disturbing David Fincher? 

As the film points out, Francois Truffaut’s Hitchcock/Truffaut debunked Hitchcock’s light entertainer reputation and revealed him as a master artist of cinema.  “Hitchcock/Truffaut” is a fitting tribute to that revelation, and in the same vein as its subject, makes the ride both entertaining for the masses and the cinephiles.  In a world dominated by ten second videos and shallow memes, it is refreshing to take a look back at Alfred Hitchcock as a director who could grab the attention of a vast public with a product that is also revered at the highest levels of cinematic education.

"The Wizard of Lies" Review

OP-ROB RATING: STARTER

“The Wizard of Lies” is a film directed by Barry Levinson that aired this past weekend on HBO.  The film stars Robert De Niro as Bernie Madoff, the infamous broker and investment adviser who built the world’s largest Ponzi scheme.  In just a matter of months Madoff went from being one of the most revered investors on Wall Street to pleading guilty to eleven felonies and being sentenced to 150 years in prison. Over the course of around two decades he had stolen billions of dollars from unwitting and innocent investors, some of whom lost their entire life’s savings with Madoff.  For the most part, “The Wizard of Lies” is a matter-of-fact kind of biopic about Madoff, mainly detailing the period between the revelation of his scheme and his prison sentencing.  However, “The Wizard of Lies” betrays its own title.  The film is less about Madoff’s ability to deceive, and more about his apparent indifference to his crimes and his own family’s tragic demise.

Aside from Bernie, the main characters include Madoff’s wife Ruth (Michelle Pfeiffer) as well as his sons Mark (Alessandro Nivola) and Andrew (Nathan Darrow).  Levinson casts Madoff’s family as victims who were unaware of Bernie’s scheme.  Much of the film is about the unraveling of their respective lives, as they are treated as accomplices in the fraud.  Ruth visits her longtime hair salon, where she is denied service.  Andrew is verbally and physically attacked by a distraught investor while walking around Manhattan.  The worst torment is reserved for Mark Madoff, who languishes in his apartment hiding from paparazzi, slowly being crushed by the weight of his father’s crime.  Just a few years after their father’s arrest, Mark committed suicide and Andrew succumbed to cancer.  Ruth was forced to relocate to Florida to live with her sister, having lost all the luxuries of her former life.

The devastation of the Madoff family is a point of focus in “The Wizard of Lies”, and it is a tough angle to take.  A scene in which Andrew Madoff speaks to a group of college students narrows in on the difficulty of looking at the Madoff’s with compassion. One student asks Andrew, “Why didn’t you go on TV and state your case? Why didn’t you defend yourself?” to which Andrew replies, “I don’t know if I’m that sympathetic a character. At the end of the day I lived a life of great wealth and privilege… All of that subsidized by my father’s victims.”  It is a poignant moment in the film, and addresses the difficulty of depicting the hardships endured by the Madoff family. 

Although Levinson provides a lot of intriguing material on Madoff’s family, he glazes over much of what makes the case a recurring interest.  For example, we never get a good look at what got Madoff started in the first place: his ability to earn people’s trust.  De Niro’s sneering portrayal feels authentic, but is never offered a scene to depict the composure that Madoff employed to snag investors. Instead we get glances at Madoff in the final days of the scheme, when he was on the ropes trying to secure investments.  Furthermore, a crucial aspect of the Madoff fraud was his ability to leech from a trusting Jewish community in New York City. In his court hearing, audible shouts from the crowd decry Madoff’s betrayal of his religious family including Elie Wiesel, an Auschwitz survivor and the author of “Night”, who had invested everything with Madoff.  Madoff’s exploitation of his religious community is important in understanding the final point of the film, yet “The Wizard of Lies” provides little more than references that must be plucked from swathes of dialogue.

“The Wizard of Lies” also doesn’t offer much insight into the paradoxical nature of the scandal.  Anyone who is familiar with a Ponzi scheme knows one thing: it will eventually fail.  Yet Madoff never planned an escape route, or even thought of one to begin with.  Why would you rob a bank without a getaway car?   From my viewing, I think “The Wizard of Lies” is missing an adequate explanation for the banality of evil.  A 1988 Dutch murder-mystery film called “Spoorloos” or “The Vanishing” expounds on this topic when the filmmakers flip the script and follow the logic of the killer.  Throughout “Spoorloos”, we discover that the killer, who seems like a normal guy, committed murder for the same reason anybody might twiddle their fingers or stretch their legs.  Perhaps Madoff is cut from the same cloth as the villain from “Spoorloos”.  Perhaps he started his scheme because he could.  No goals, no pleasure, no intent, just because.

The ending of “The Wizard of Lies” takes a swing at the idea of “Spoorloos” when it suggests that Madoff is a sociopath.  In an interview with a reporter in prison, Madoff steams about a New York Times article that compared him to the mass-serial killer Ted Bundy.  The film ends as Madoff asks the reporter, “Do you think I’m a sociopath?”  The reporter’s response is not provided, but we have an idea for ourselves as the camera lingers on Madoff’s emotionless face.  The man betrayed his family, his friends, and even his entire religious community.  What values could he possibly have?  

Ultimately, “The Wizard of Lies” is a very good film.  It is crisply shot, methodical, and well-acted.  And yet, it somehow feels unfulfilled.  Madoff ruined thousands of people’s lives and a crime of such magnitude demands a reason.  Unfortunately, the most plausible one is simply, just because. “The Wizard of Lies” is a noble attempt to breathe life into such a vapid explanation, even if it misses a few notes here and there.

Life Lessons From San Antonio

No NBA team in history has climbed out of a 3-0 deficit in a playoff series.  The San Antonio Spurs must face that daunting fact, as they play a historically great Golden State Warriors team in Game 4 of the Western conference Finals tomorrow night.  Furthermore, they must confront the challenge without the help of Tony Parker and MVP-Finalist Kawhi Leonard.  Tony went down with a ruptured quadriceps tendon in Game 2 of the Spurs series against the Rockets.  Kawhi is injured on account of what may or may not have been a nefarious defensive play by Zaza Pachulia that occurred in Game 1 of the Warriors-Spurs series.

Normally, I’m okay with accepting a Spurs playoff exit if they are bested by a clearly superior opponent.  And the Warriors may very well be superior.  Indeed, we’re talking about a Warriors lineup of four 2017 NBA All-Stars, two of whom have been league MVP before.  They are going up against a Spurs lineup with just one 2017 NBA All-Star, whose name is Kawhi Leonard, and wont be playing.  The Warriors are undeniably more talented.  But are they the better team?  The answer, unfortunately, is unclear.

Watch that clip of Kawhi crumpling under Pachulia’s extended leg again.  Look at the score: 76-55.  The Spurs were rolling in that game.  But after Kawhi left, the Warriors ripped off an 18-0 run, ultimately coming back to win the game 113-111.  If Kawhi doesn’t go down in Game 1, then dollars to donuts we are looking at a 2-1 Golden State lead in the series, at the very worst for San Antonio.  Who knows what would have happened in Game 2 and Game 3 if Kawhi had been able to play.  But regardless, that Game 1 outcome totally shifts the landscape of the series.  The hypotheticals are torturous. 

When Kawhi went down, I was enraged at Pachulia.  The Macedonian big man has a reputation for rough play, and I was convinced he intentionally walked under Kawhi, who had injured the same ankle just a few plays before.  Now, looking back on the series Pachulia’s potentially dirty play could have blown the entire series for the Spurs.  And on a more basic level, he may have intentionally taken out a good and honest man, who wanted nothing more than to lead his team and compete in the NBA playoffs.  Any Spurs fan, or basketball fan in general, would be justified to be angry.

However, over the past few years the Spurs have taught me a lot personally about how to react in such a situation. Because there are times in real life when you feel like you have a 20-point lead, and then fate slides a foot under you. I've been through a few moments when I felt like I was crumpled on the sideline, totally helpless and feeling like life is unfair. In such moments it's easy to be weighed down by the burdens of cynicism and regret.  It is easy to be angry, and dwell on your misfortune.

But the Spurs have shown me that there are other options.  Instead of idly rotting away, you can choose to snatch the pen from the authors of cruel circumstance and write your own next chapter.  The Spurs did this recently when they endured a long season beneath the looming shadow of their horrific 2013 NBA Finals loss against the ideologically opposite Miami Heat.  I remember watching Spurs games during that 2013/14 season, and the Game 6 three-point dagger from Ray Allen would be mentioned every matchup.  I’m just a fan, and during that season every commentator’s mention, or replay from the series would sting like new. Watching this video right now is still tough. I cannot imagine how the players felt having moments from that series on constant repeat.  However, during the season following the loss, the Spurs kept their heads down and focused all of their heartache into reaching the NBA Finals once again.  Once they got there, the Spurs throttled the very same Miami Heat in the 2014 NBA Finals, winning in just 5 games. The Spurs won by a combined 74 points, the largest deficit in Finals history. 

So now, with Tony out, with Kawhi out, and a postseason on the ropes, I'm not going to blame Pachulia or feel like this series is unfair. Because I know that come off-season, the Spurs won't either. They'll do what they have always done, keep fighting, and one day in the near future Pachulia's extra step will be a minor footnote in a great journey.  Having said that, let’s come out tomorrow night and win one for Kawhi. Go Spurs Go!

"Guardians of the Galaxy 2" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BUST

“Guardians of the Galaxy 2” opens with all the familiar characters from the first film: Peter “Starlord” Quill (Chris Pratt), Gamora (Zoe Saldana), Drax (Dave Bautista), Rocket (Bradley Cooper) and the reincarnation of Groot (Vin Diesel) who is now “Baby Groot”.  In the first scene the Guardians are tasked with fighting off a space monster that seeks to destroy some invaluable space batteries belonging to the gold-crusted “Sovereign People” in exchange for Gamora’s criminal sister Nebula (Karen Gillan).  The intro credits role as the motley crew struggles to fend off the monster and Baby Groot dances around the battleground to the tune of Electric Light Orchestra’s “Mr. Blue Sky”.  After killing the monster, Rocket decides to steal the batteries just for the fun of it.  However, Rocket’s selfish act leads to a near deadly attack by Sovereign spaceships and the Guardians are forced to crash land on a woodland planet called Berhert.  Within minutes of landing, the group is confronted by a dapper, kingly looking man named Ego (Kurt Russell) who emerges from a spaceship that looks like a white chocolate Cadbury Crème Egg.  Ego declares that he is Quill’s father, and insists that everyone come visit his home planet. After some deliberating, Rocket is left on Berhert to repair the ship with Nebula and Baby Groot as company.  Quill, Gamora, and Drax all board Ego’s ship, where they are introduced to Mantis (Pom Klementieff), Ego’s “empathic” servant girl.

            In the next few scenes, Rocket encounters some trouble when Yondu (Michael Rooker) and his Ravagers from the previous film track down the crash-landed ship.  But the far stranger development occurs on Ego’s planet, which is aptly named “Ego’s Planet”.  Upon arriving Ego explains that he is a “celestial” which is essentially a god.  Over millions of years Ego learned to create his human form and subsequently build his own planet.  However, being lonely, Ego sought out other life forms ultimately leading to Earth where he met Peter Quill’s late mother.  This whole timeline is explained as Quill, Gamora, and Drax amble through Ego’s palace; the scenes from the timeline are depicted through peculiar shape-shifting ceramic statues.  Despite Ego’s warm welcome, Mantis tells Drax that he and his friends are in danger.  I won’t spoil the twist, but it comes shortly after a scene in which Peter Quill and Ego bond by playing catch with a conjured ball of shining blue energy. 

            If any of that explanation sounded too strange, well, it’s what happened.  By the time we enter Ego’s Planet, “Guardians of the Galaxy 2” has ramped up the weirdness a full ten notches above the previous film, which was bizarre in its own right.  While this second installment of “Guardians of the Galaxy” shares many similarities with its predecessor, there are two definitive characteristics that set it apart.  For one, the outlandishness of the film is over the top.  Ego’s planet is akin to a colorful, bubbly, LSD-induced trip.  In one scene Drax asks Mantis, “how did you get to this weird, dumb planet?” The audience is asking themselves the same question.  The second major difference is that the plot revolves around Quill’s relationship with his absentee father and similarly around Gamora’s relationship with her abused little sister, Nebula.  These strained bonds culminate in different ways, yet are equally cheesy in their execution. 

This brings me back to when I saw the first “Guardians of the Galaxy” at a dingy little theater in Lebanon, New Hampshire. The seats reeked of that blue chemical stuff you find in port-a-potties and the screen was dented squarely in the center.  Usually, these things would be enough to ruin a movie for me. Yet, by the time Quill had put on his Walkman and queued up Redbone’s  "Come and Get Your Love", the nastiness of the theater had melted away. That is what "movie magic" does. It transports you away into a different world. The first “Guardians of the Galaxy” was funny, weird and imaginative all while being neatly wrapped into a standard Marvel plot.  This second installment feels like a cheap knockoff of that first charming film. It feels like “Guardians of the Galaxy: The TV Special”, with all of the secondary plot lines, jokes, and songs that didn't make the first cut.  Peter Quill’s quips are less spontaneous; Rocket’s jabs pack less punch, and Drax’s literal interpretations go from being funny to overdrawn by the end of the film.  The soundtrack is still strong, but references to it are so obvious that it robs the subtlety from the tunes.  Furthermore, the plotline is dominated by phony father-son, sister-sister relationships that sap the energy right out the action.  Perhaps the first film was just as weird, and the camaraderie piece just as tacky, but those aspects were unnoticeable because of the sheer joy elicited from watching such a peppy, original film.  Is “Guardians of the Galaxy 2” overwhelmingly bad? No. But it is less inspired in every category.  It is a prime example of what Hollywood movies have become in America today.

            Walking into the theater for “Guardians of the Galaxy 2” I passed posters for “Spider-man: Homecoming”, “Alien: Covenant”, “Baywatch”, “Transformers: The Last Knight”, “The Mummy” and “The Nut Job 2: Naughty by Nature”.  Notice anything these advertisements have in common?  They are all remakes or sequels.  Granted, some of those films may turn out to be very good.  But if the history of sequels and remakes is any indication, maybe one of them will truly be worth watching.  In the long hallway of posters there was a single fresh adaption: “Captain Underpants: The First Epic Movie”.  That is where we are at now.  It brought to mind a 2014 article called “The Birdcage” from the now defunct website Grantland.  In the article the author insightfully describes the sequelization of Hollywood, and how to be a great studio executive you “make your bones by showing you can maximize the potential monetization of a preexisting brand or reawaken a dormant one.” The result is a bevy of prepackaged, hackneyed films. Reading that article a few years ago, I didn’t feel the author’s same dread.  I had seen “Guardians of the Galaxy”, a Marvel summer blockbuster, mainstream of the mainstream, that was completely novel.  But if there is anything to take away from “Guardians of the Galaxy 2”, it is that no franchise is immune to being recycled, tweaked, and re-released at the expense of the viewers.

Link to Grantland article: 

http://grantland.com/features/2014-hollywood-blockbusters-franchises-box-office/

Despite a fantastic regular season, the Spurs are in rebuild mode

Last night the San Antonio Spurs lost very badly to the Houston Rockets, 99 - 126. I think there remains a good chance that they win the series. And there will always be a little voice in my heart that says they can win the title. But if I'm honest, the Spurs are in a rebuild mode. They are in just as much of a rebuild mode as many teams that missed the playoffs entirely.  Vital pieces need to be added.  I won't go so far as to say they are in the same boat as the Lakers or the Sixers, but the overall term can be used for each team. However, unlike those obvious rebuilding projects, the Spurs rebuild is deceptive:

It looks like 61 regular season wins.

It looks like the best regular season defensive rating in the league.

It looks like landing a #2 seed in the loaded Western Conference.

It looks like Kawhi Leonard putting up an MVP-worthy season.

But don't let those signs fool you into thinking the Spurs are championship-ready. 

Last year when the Spurs were dismantled by the Thunder I was very disappointed, but I also knew that the better team had won.  San Antonio took a 2-1 series lead by riding Kawhi Leonard and LaMarcus Aldridge’s combined scoring average of 57.6 points per game in the first three matchups.  In the following three games those numbered teetered off to 42.3 and San Antonio dropped all three losing the series 2-4.  The Spurs simply didn't have a healthy premiere point guard or enough young firepower on the wings. Durant and Westbrook had ripped the reigns away from Leonard and Aldridge combining for an average of 59.3 points over the last three games.  Rim protection was lacking and Steven Adams ruled the paint like a bully in a sandbox.  As a Spurs fan, it was a sobering experience made even more potent by Tim Duncan’s retirement two months later in July.  But at least we knew what roles the team needed to fill for a championship the next year.

In the offseason the Spurs revitalized the point with... a raw, athletic rookie in Dejounte Murray? They added rangy athletic wings such as... rookies Davis Bertans and Bryn Forbes? They locked down the paint by signing old man Pau Gasol and Dewayne Dedmon?  That is what rebuilding looks like.  Adding undeveloped young talent and older veterans to ease the transition.  Yet I never think to associate the word “rebuild” with the Spurs because they have been winning 50+ games every season going back to when Hoya-legend Bill Clinton was in the White House.  Yet now, this postseason the Spurs have the same exact problems against the Rockets that they had against the Thunder in 2016, except they have brought three promising rookies along for the ride.

If the Spurs are going to win with Kawhi and LaMarcus, then they need a star middleman between the two.  Unlike many fans, I have not given up on LaMarcus Aldridge.  However, I do believe he can only be maximized as a third-option scorer.  That is why striking out on Kevin Durant continues to looks like a massive loss for an otherwise championship-ready Spurs roster. 

Ultimately, I'll enjoy this series and hope the Spurs can make enough adjustments to handle the Rockets’ high-powered offense. But I wouldn't be too surprised if Houston continues to feast on this Spurs squad, closing the series in 6 games or so.  If that happens I'll be  sad for the guys, especially Kawhi, but I won't be as disappointed as last year. Because I also wouldn't at all be surprised if in a year or two, we are witnessing a perfectly crafted Spurs team led by peak-Kawhi Leonard. I wouldn't be surprised if Dejounte Murray has developed into a Shaun Livingston-esque point guard to lead the second unit with Davis Bertans and Bryn Forbes ready for catch-and-shoot threes. I also wouldn't be surprised if the Point-God Chris Paul signs with San Antonio and finds a post-prime renaissance under Pop's system. 

Most importantly, I wouldn't be surprised if in the next couple of years I look back and think, "wow, those disappointing playoff exits were part of a process for something great".   Right now, as a Spurs fan, I need to trust the process.  But not the kitschy kind of “Trust the Process” that has defined the tanking-rebuild in Philadelphia.  I’m talking about trusting that the Spurs will continue to win while adding pieces and building on the basketball culture that has developed out in the southernmost parts of the Lone Star State.  Let’s not lose faith and keep the bigger picture in mind, but still go out and crush the Rockets in game 2 tomorrow.  Go Spurs Go!

"The Lost City of Z" Review

OP-ROB RATING: BENCH

“The Lost City of Z” opens in the green pastures of Ireland, where a young man named Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) is stationed with the Royal War Office.  Fawcett is a sharp and capable soldier, yet he fails to gain advancement because of his father’s reputation as a gambler and a drunk.  Fawcett’s fortune’s rise when he receives a surveying appointment from the Royal Geographical Society that could restore his family name.  The task is to discover the source of the Rio Verde in Amazonia (modern day Bolivia/Brazil).  Fawcett accepts the lengthy challenge, leaving behind his pregnant wife Nina (Sienna Miller) and toddler Jack (Tom Mulheron).  On the journey Fawcett is accompanied by a crew, including Henry Costin (Robert Pattinson), a gruff and experienced surveyor. The rigors of Amazonia prove to be extremely precarious.  For example, while rafting up river the crew is periodically attacked by bow-and-arrow wielding natives who linger behind bushes on the banks of the Rio Verde.  In one instance a man is shot and falls into the river to be mauled by piranhas. Despite the dangers, Fawcett and Costin succeed in their mission to discover the source of the Rio Verde, mostly thanks to a knowledgeable native guide.  Over the course of the trip the guide mumbles a few things to Fawcett regarding a once-great city deep in the jungle.  Fawcett shrugs off the comments until, at the source of the river, he finds several pieces of pottery and some engravings on trees. 

Upon returning home Fawcett is hailed as a hero and the foremost explorer in Britain.  With his family name restored, Fawcett has the ability to live his life uninhibited. However, throughout the rest of the film he returns to Amazonia two more times, with a stint in World War I in between.  The reason for his subsequent explorations is a fascination with finding the lost city the native guide spoke of.  Fawcett becomes more and more obsessed with finding the city he refers to as “Z”.  His British peers sneer and scoff at the idea of a great city buried in the jungle, and there are more than a few scenes in which Fawcett urges his compatriots not to underestimate the “savages”. 

As a film, "The List City of Z" is undeniably well done. Hunnam is believably resolute as Percy Fawcett for most of the film. His choppy, assured early 20th century British dialogue is executed consistently. However, as Fawcett's delusions become clearer Hunnam tends to oversell it.  Sienna Miller is more impressive as Nina.  Her scorn of the search for Z slowly evolves into reluctant approval.  By the end of the film she is equally as invested as her husband, who has been mostly absent because of his quest for glory.  As the signs build up that Fawcett's mission is far-fetched, and destructive to his family, we never question the conviction of the main characters motivations.  For the most part we believe that they believe. 

 The cinematography is equally as steady and authentic. Throughout the film the camera just glides along the intriguing landscapes of Ireland, Britain, and Amazonia.  The camera’s omniscience doesn’t lead to any surprises or shaky shots.  One could argue the technique is simple, crisp, and unassuming.  However, I have a feeling the camerawork is meant to add to the impending sense that Fawcett’s mission is doomed.  His ultimate fate is as certain from the opening scene to the final credits.  What is equally interesting is how the matter-of-factness of the film contrasts with Fawcett’s growing delusion about finding the lost city.  On the second exploration in Amazonia, Fawcett and Costin are invited to hang out with a tribe of cannibals.  While in their village, Fawcett spots a small patch of cultivated land.  Upon seeing it, Fawcett points it out to Costin and exclaims that this agricultural feat must mean that Z exists!  After Fawcett shuffles away there is a split second in which Costin turns to the camera and stares blankly, expressing his and the audiences skepticism. 

Unfortunately, as the film drags on and Fawcett grows more obsessed with the vanished city, the subtleties that made the scene with Costin so effective also vanish.  On Fawcett’s final expedition to Amazonia he brings Jack (Tom Holland) who has now grown up.  In one of the final scenes the two are taken hostage by group of natives.  As the captors discuss what to do with them, Fawcett tells his son that, “whatever happens, it is our destiny.”  With your eldest son’s head so close to the literal chopping block, one wishes that Fawcett could have come up with some better words.  

“The Lost City of Z” amounts to a well made, yet ultimately fruitless adventure.  The most significant aspect of the film are Fawcett’s motivations and the effect they have on his family and friends. There are much better movies, such as “There Will Be Blood”, that explore the same kind destructiveness that can be caused by unbridled ambition.  Perhaps it is fitting that the final impression of the “The Lost City of Z” coincides with Fawcett’s own expedition.  A few screen titles at the end of the film tell us that Fawcett disappeared along with Jack on that final expedition, and a lost city of Z was never found.  In the end, “The Lost City of Z” is an overdrawn film that never really hits a full stride.  On a rainy spring day, moviegoers would be wise to explore elsewhere.

"After the Storm" Review

OP-ROB RATING: ALL-STAR

Ryota (Hiroshi Abe) is a middle-aged novelist who started a promising career by publishing an award-winning book called “The Empty Table”. He has since been married, had a child, fallen into debt, and gotten a divorce.  Now his career as a novelist seems like a footnote in comparison to his other problems. Kyoko (Yōko Maki) is Ryota’s ex-wife; she works in real estate and has custody of Shingo (Taiyô Yoshizawa), Ryota’s twelve-year-old son. While Kyoko seems cold, she just wants what is best for Shingo and herself.  Shingo is a quiet youngster who plays baseball, it is fitting that instead of swinging aimlessly for home runs, he always tries to draw a walk.  It is he that has the complicated task of keeping a relationship with his estranged father. Tying the three together is Ryota’s grandmother, Yoshiko (Kirin Kiki), who in her fun-loving appeal manages to keep a relationship with all of them.  These are the main characters in Hirokazu Koreeda’s new film “After the Storm”, which has hardly anything to do with storms.

The story swirls around its flawed main character, Ryota, who is masterfully portrayed by Hiroshi Abe.  On the surface, he seems like a despicable character.  A divorced gambling addict on the verge of being evicted from his tiny one room apartment, Ryota spends his days doing the sleazy work of a private detective, sometimes spying for clients and other times spying on his ex-wife.  In a vexing scene, Ryota secures a decent commission only to gamble it all away at the cycling racetrack.  Without a doubt, Ryota is a deadbeat dad who deserves little sympathy.  However, it is impossible not to feel something for the downtrodden novelist.  In Abe’s long, unshaven, and weathered face you can see goodness and a desire to do the right thing.  It takes a skilled director-actor pair to generate this kind of unearned sympathy for such a disappointing character.  Within Ryota there is also a metaphor for the deceiving nature of gambling.  As Ryota assures his detective colleague, if he wins at the track he can buy cleats and a baseball glove for Shingo and pay for rent.  The desire is true, but the treacherousness of gambling robs it of any virtue.

            Where “After the Storm” hit me personally, was in its message about dreams and responsibility.  As a college student, it seems as you get closer and closer to graduation people stray from their passions and focus their efforts on preparation for “the real world”.  It is easy to scoff at these people and view them as sellouts.  But the real world is undoubtedly coming, and when the unsuccessful dreamers cant buy baseball cleats for their children they may wish they had been more practical during college.  Life changes, and with it your desires and obligations change.  The comedic, high-energy senior Yoshiko has more than a few wise musings on this topic throughout the film.  Your dreams do not take priority over your family.  This resonates within the character of Ryota, who has never swallowed that pill.  In one scene Yoshiko tells her “late blooming” son to “hurry up, or I’ll haunt you!” as she staggers toward him like a ghost.  In another scene Ryota faces this problem quite starkly when he is given an opportunity to write for a Manga comic book.  He turns it down out of pride, and out of his dream of becoming a self-sufficient novelist.  It is a damning symbol of irony that Ryota’s one award-winning book is called “The Empty Table”.

“After the Storm” does not do anything groundbreaking.  There are no gimmicks or twists.  The cinematography is simple and unstylized.  And while there are grand analyses of human nature that arise from the story, Koreeda never thumps them over our head.  In one particular scene midway through the movie, Ryota excitedly takes Shingo to a lottery kiosk to buy tickets.  Ryota explains that his father had taken him to do the same as a child.  It was at this moment that you could hear the air get sucked out of theater, as there was a collective sigh from the audience.  Unprompted by a musical buildup or a dramatic flashback, Koreeda delivers a stinging example how the sins of the father can affect a generation through modest words and expressions.  

In the end, “After the Storm” does not leave you feeling excited or inspired like a family-drama such as ”Little Miss Sunshine” would.  What it does make you feel is hope for man stuck in generation-old habits and a debilitating urge to regain what he has lost forever.  As Shingo asks Ryota, “Are you who you wanted to be?” his father replies, “I’m not. Not yet.”  If you look closely, there are enough signs throughout the film to suggest he might be on the way.