2020: Recapping the Year Without Movies

2020 was an absolute dumpster fire. Sorry for being blunt; but, an unambiguously terrible year only deserves a harsh statement like that to sum it up...which means that I am forgoing the usually year-end best list.

Oh, what’s that? You still want to see my favorite films of the year even though everyone’s list is probably going to look identical (more so than usual). Fine. Here goes. My top five of 2020...that actually came out in 2020...

5) DA 5 BLOODS (dir. Spike Lee)

4) FEELS GOOD MAN (dir. Arthur Jones)

3) TENET (dir. Christopher Nolan)

2) POSSESSOR (dir. Brandon Cronenberg)

1) MANK (dir. David Fincher)

(Before you ask, I saw WONDER WOMAN 1984 and quite liked it. More than most, apparently)

I know a title that includes the phrase “the Year Without Movies” seems a tad melodramatic. But, with all the chaos outside leaving the multiplexes closed up, it felt like time just stopped and there wasn’t anything new. Admittedly, that is a shame and you better believe I’m going to monitor the incoming newsfeed about the uncertain future of theatrical exhibition like a hawk.

Anyway, not in any particular order, here are my ten favorite films out of the ones I’ve discovered during the quarantine.

CHRISTMAS ON MARS (2008, dir. Wayne Coyne/Bradley Beesley/George Salisbury)

On balance, this is probably the weakest film in this particular selection. It’s slapdash, meandering and more than a little crass in spots. That having been said, its flaws are also endearing charms. Consider this one a diamond in the rough. The main reason I included this was because, alongside retreating back to old creature comforts, 2020 made me and countless others resort to finding new ones. In this instance, it was the endlessly eclectic discography of neo-psychedelic outfit The Flaming Lips. Their unique blend of optimism, philosophy and strangeness got me through many a depressive episode in this Godforsaken year. A lot of which shows up in one form or another in this bizarre film freakout. The whole thing plays like a fragmented fever dream cocktail of half-remembered low-budget cult sci-fi flicks (probably produced between 1957-1980). With that in mind, I’d recommend pairing this on a double bill with similar oddities such as John Carpenter’s DARK STAR.

REAL LIFE (1979, dir. Albert Brooks)

Back in September, The Criterion Channel devoted a small section of it’s already impressive streaming library to the films of one Albert Brooks. By now, most of it has already fled the platform; but, that won’t stop me from talking about it here (nor should it stop you from checking out what may be some of the best comedies ever made). All of those are well worth checking out; but, his directorial debut might just be my favorite of the bunch. A skewering satirical indictment of reality television decades before we’d bear the brunt of its worst offerings.

SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (1957, dir. Alexander MacKendrick)

As alluded to in the paragraph prior, 2020 was also the year I finally caved and got a Criterion Channel subscription (an invaluable tool in clearing up a couple cinematic blindspots). Outside of occasionally burning a hole in my wallet at inopportune times, I’d say this has been more than a worthwhile investment and films like this keep reminding me of that. Cynical, moody and everso topical, it’s a trenchant dive through an upper-class underworld where everyone’s out for No. 1 and disdain for your common man is the order of the day. Simply put, one of the best movies about journalism ever made and arguably one of the finest works in the canon of film noir.

EXPERIMENT IN TERROR (1962, dir. Blake Edwards)

A rare example of exquisite genre material from a director not widely known for such yet no less masterful for it. All shot with lavish photography from DP extraordinaire Philip H. Lathrop and undercut with a suitably suspenseful Henry Mancini score.

MISHIMA: A LIFE IN FOUR CHAPTERS (1985, dir. Paul Schrader)

Okay, I speak no hyperbole when I say this might be the finest film discovery I’ve made all year. Like a couple other titles on this list, I owe my podcast Warped Celluloid for helping me get around to it. What Paul Schrader crafted here is the story of an artist told through his art. A notion that I lament to say isn’t shared by the majority of modern biopics (and probably not a lot of older ones either). It’s a film that defies description in the best way possible. Go in knowing as little as humanly possible.

HELL IN THE PACIFIC (1968, dir. John Boorman)

A quiet meditative drama on masculinity and the conflicts that ensue over perceived cultural differences. Marvin and Mifune turn in powerhouse work as dual leads, relying on raw physical power (or, in some spots, the lack thereof). 

THE INSIDER (1999, dir. Michael Mann)

How the hell did this lose Best Picture to American Beauty? I know it feels silly to start out with this. But, really, what else do I need to say? It’s Michael Mann telling a real-life story of newsroom intrigue and corporate malfeasance. At the time of writing, you can still find it on Amazon Prime. If you haven’t seen it already, fix that.

SOMETHING WILD (1986, dir. Jonathan Demme)

Brilliant romantic comedy with a screenplay that’s sharp as a tack while also doubling as one hell of a gear-shift picture. The less you know about this going in, the better. A real gem from a decade with a lot of great rom-coms; but, with few as distinct and chock full of personality as this.

VANILLA SKY (2001, dir. Cameron Crowe)

And speaking of cinematic romance, my penultimate pick for my favorite discoveries of the year is a movie that’s grown on me with repeated viewings and hasn’t left my mind since I first saw it. I know it sounds weird saying this for a movie that’s barely twenty years old; but, they really don’t make movies like this anymore. Stories that make big swings and paint with broad strokes to create something both deeply personal yet oddly universal. That ending still might be one of the most thought-provoking things I’ve seen in a long, long time. Plus, as is to be expected of a Cameron Crowe picture, the soundtrack owns.

UNTIL THE END OF THE WORLD (1991, dir. Wim Wenders, full director’s cut)

Where to begin on a film that looms so large yet remains so unheard of among even the most hardcore of film aficionados? It’s rare for a director to make a bold claim such as crafting the ultimate road picture and even more so to have the final result actually live up to it. Part sweeping globetrotting love affair, part heart-wrenching science fiction parable, all incredibly unique, cultured and intelligent. A vision of a future that’s long since past that still feels enticing and worth exploring. A lengthy journey to be sure, but one well worth taking.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Strange Days, Road to Perdition, Excalibur, The Silent Partner, Touch of Evil, Solaris (2002), The Conversation, Branded to Kill, Gimme Danger, La Jetee, Killing Them Softly, The Yakuza

Happy New Year everyone! Here’s hoping 2021 is slightly less crap than 2020 was.

KICK-ASS: the Anarchy of Adolescence and the Necessity for Variety in Genre

 “Any escape might help to smooth
The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youth” - SUBDIVISIONS, Rush

“We are young, we are strong
We're not looking for where we belong
We're not cool, we are free
And we're running with blood on our knees” - KICK-ASS, MIKA & RedOne

Cards on the table, I think some of my best writing within the realms of film criticism comes from springboarding off of what I see and hear on a daily basis. Such is the case with this editorial which came from seeing Patrick Willems’ recent treatise on his disdain for the  perceived wide breadth of adult-oriented superhero material. I’ll put the link to it here because it sets a decent context and makes a couple worthwhile points near the end; but, most of it is the same tired hyperbolic crap that gets dragged out whenever the usual gadflies decide to comment on this particular subject. 

“It’s just overviolent edgelord nonsense made for teenage boys”, “These characters started out for younger audiences”, the petulant and outlandish villainization of Zack Snyder, etc. You’ve heard these beats a million times over, so I’m not going to waste your time by complaining about them. Besides, I wanted to use this bout of cynicism as a vehicle to expressing joy and offering a more productive counterargument. I’m here to talk about what I hold as not only my favorite superhero flick, but the reason I keep wanting more variety out of this genre: Matthew Vaughn’s Kick-Ass.

So, the story proper begins a decade ago. I was about ten years old, teeming with excitement and anticipation for what was more or less my first venture into a comic book store of any kind. I had yet to figure out the minute intricacies of how everything was laid out and what titles I should be on the lookout for. Of course, my first instinct was to wander around and go at my own pace.

Pick up whatever speaks to me and just figure it out from there. More to the point, one of the titles that immediately caught my eye was Mark Millar and John Romita JR.’s KICK-ASS. A slick hardcover with it’s provocative title in bold yellow lettering. Hard to lose in a crowd of other titles competing for your attention. Before I could even get past the first pages, my dad smacked the hardcover out of my hand and pushed me to pick something out already. So, we ended up  walking out with a couple back issues of Iron Man from ‘87 or so and that was that. But, I was more determined than ever to figure out what was in that graphic novel that got him so worked up. Naturally, I waited another couple years and started with the movie it spawned not long after its initial publication.

Still just as electrifying today as it was in 2010, Kick-Ass centers around high school nobody Dave Lizewski deciding to finally become a real-life superhero and the complications that arise from it. Oh yeah and it has Nicolas Cage as the most politely hyper-violent Batman ever in all but name. Think Ben Affleck’s dark knight if he spoke with the calm, dryly observant demeanor of Adam West. It’s bloody as hell, pyrotechnically profane, exhilarating and screamingly funny...so, why use a film that seemingly embodies the exact qualities Willems and his contemporaries find everso frustrating to prove my point? 

The answer is simple.

Until Into The Spider-Verse made waves a couple years ago, I’d say this was the only mainstream superhero movie that tapped into why this archetype dominates the popular imagination in the here and now. For all the nastiness that comes with its dive into R-rated waters, there’s two basic narrative ticks that imbue the film with a raw, beating heart as it continues to beat everything else utterly senseless. For starters, it completely and fundamentally gets how being a teenager sucks. Most importantly, it does so in a way that doesn’t feel facile or contemptful of its adolescent characters. 

Capturing that strange limbo before you turn 18, graduate high school and start to move on with your life. An early rock bottom where total aimlessness is the order of the day. No clue who or what you want out of your circle of friends (or hell even out of yourself), that dawning dread of a day-to-day monotony that seems like it will inevitably extend forever onward into adulthood and a gut feeling that there may be no hope of true escape from whatever corner of the universe they inhabit (urban, suburban or otherwise).

Said aimlessness carries over to why Dave dons the pathetic combo of scuba gear and electrical tape he calls a costume in the first place. He doesn’t do it as some predestined calling or to protect the public good. If anything, the only even remotely protective instinct that leads to his decision is wanting to feel just a small bit of power over the muggers that hassle him and his friends on a constant basis...who still end up knocking him on his ass and leave him for dead even when he suits up.

Reality only intrudes on his heroics further and further as the movie speeds along. Not to the degree of the original comics where those devolve into straight-up cruelty; but, enough to give the bloodshed purpose and real weight. Like a lot of misguided forays into the so-called real world, it’s lessons are quite painful and can often feel overwhelming. He’s repeatedly established to be way out of his depth, whether it’s lack of practical crime-fighting skills (i.e. simply being able to hold his own ground in a fight) compared to Big Daddy and Hit-Girl or feeling inferior next to the slicker, more professional image of his treacherous cohort Red Mist. And yet, he’s still able to look at himself in the mirror. Black eyes staring from behind a blood-stained mask as if to ask himself and the world holding him at gunpoint: “is that the best you can do?”. 

All of which leads me to the second point: it violently tears that wish-fulfillment fantasy down in order to rebuild and re-establish it not only as valid but also kind of necessary in a sense*. Could or should superheroes be real? Probably not. As over-the-top as the climax gets (two words: jetpack minigun), there’s no mistaking that our protagonist is only surviving by the skin of his teeth which makes it all the more satisfying when he returns the favor for his infinitely more confident companion. He remains hopeful though and it’s clear that the images of superheroes are still a cathartic escapism.

It’s a picture that never stops moving even when it slows down. Some of which can be attributed to the soundtrack. A healthy, eclectic mix of vintage deep cuts and passionately anthemic contemporary pop/punk. The film’s central ethos literally embodied in the title track’s chorus, as quoted at the beginning of this op-ed.**

Granted, none of this is to say Kick-Ass is some sort of deep intellectual exercise. God no. Of the two R-rated superhero movies that made me want to make movies in the first place, Watchmen is still the one that I can defend more honestly on an analytical level. If you need further convincing, just repeat the title to yourself and let it sink in from there. It’s a comic book action flick with an abrasive sense of humor and a palpable pulse when the bloodletting kicks in. Is the violence grotesque and indulgent? You bet your bottom dollar it is! But, that’s the fun of it! It’s what makes it feel all the more alive and kinetic. 

Plus, the fact that there are real characters worth giving a damn about at the center with tangible, resonant connections to recognizable personal experiences just boosts the rush all the further. None of which is possible when we limit these movies to nothing more than pseudo-optimistic PG-13 spectacle made to justify fifteen more movies and sell Funko POPs to wide-eyed children or thirtysomethings that still wished they were wide-eyed children.

* I should also note that James Mangold did this on a broader, more metatextual level with Logan back in 2017.

**Incidentally, I’d also say this (among other things) is what got me to lower my defenses as a somewhat basic classic rock snob and give stuff from my own generation a fair shake.

When Did Wanting Extended Cuts Become a Bad Thing?

If you’ve been paying any attention to the online film discourse at all within the last three years, there’s a good chance you’ve heard about the alleged original cut of Justice League that was on track for release until Zack Snyder had to depart from the production under tragic personal circumstances. Thoughts and musings often range from a sincere desire to see a single creative vision persevere in the tentpole blockbuster scene (regardless of if the end result is any good or even finished) to aggressive dismissal of perceived manchildren bullying a studio over something that might not even exist.

Now, for a little context, here’s a quick summation of what all this talk is over. Back in March 2017, Justice League was en route to finish production without a hitch. Then, Snyder had to step down due to personal pressures that I won’t elaborate on here for the sake of good taste. Afterwards, Joss Whedon stepped on to helm whatever extra scenes and reshoots wherever they were necessary. Cut to November of that year where the film got savaged by the press as well as fans and the box-office results were less than stellar, to put it nicely. Many claim that Whedon just tried to fix a film that wasn’t even broken to begin with. Honestly, when I look at side-by-side comparisons of what certain scenes looked like before he entered the picture, I have a hard time disagreeing with that assertion.

For a while, it seemed increasingly unlikely that this extended cut would even see the light of day. Rumors ranged that the film only needed some more time in the editing bay while others insisted that it would take too much money to be worth finishing. Personally, I’ve even speculated that the release of this would probably play out like the Donner Cut of Superman II if were to happen at all (where we’d have to wait a long time to even see it). But, from the looks of recent headlines, a lot of this talk is about to pay off.

Speculation based on reliable sources has led most to believe that the Snyder Cut will be used as a potential launch title for HBO Max, be it as a single film or cut up into chunks and released as a miniseries (a la what Netflix did with Quentin Tarantino’s extended version of The Hateful Eight not too long ago).

I won’t dwell on the outlandish demonizing of Zack Snyder for too long. Even acknowledging it feels like perpetuating it against a filmmaker who really doesn’t deserve it. The hypocrisy of people who lambast so-called “toxic fans” for dogpiling on a filmmaker with a radically different take on a popular IP in one breath while mimicking the exact same toxicity in another speaks for itself. All one needs to do is replace the name “Zack Snyder” with say “Rian Johnson” or any other artist that rubs online fandom the wrong way and a lot of this bashing from bloggers becomes inseparable from the same morons who demanded The Last Jedi to be what would have amounted to cinematic fan-fiction.

Imagine if Twitter (specifically this writhing seething subsect of Film Twitter that makes talking about movies so unpleasant these days) was around when the first few alternate cuts of Blade Runner came out. Or David Fincher’s “assembly cut” of Alien 3. Or Wim Winders’ preferred vision of Until the End of the World (which finally saw completion thanks to a restoration from Janus Films). Or Sergio Leone’s original cut of Once Upon A Time in America. Or Dark City. It even applies to two of Snyder’s previous films.

Both the longer versions of Batman v Superman and Watchmen  benefitted from an extended runtime, even from a few voices who weren’t fond of either film to begin with. All this talk of releasing the film rewarding the worst impulses of modern fandom or just simply being a futile and stupid gesture (to borrow the parlance of National Lampoon) struck me as disingenuous at best and needlessly mean-spirited at worst. I’ve believed this since it first entered the larger conversation back in late 2017 and I can’t say my stance has shifted all that much at the time of writing. Especially when one considers that extended cuts have always had a neutral or resoundingly positive stance in film fandom for decades.

If an extended cut made a movie better, it was a cause for celebration. In some instances, the changes were significant enough to rehabilitate a film’s reputation. Look at how opinions have shifted in favor of notorious flops like Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate or Francis Ford Coppola’s The Cotton Club. And, if didn’t, it wasn’t a big deal. Extended cuts that either didn’t impact the film to any noticeable degree or outright dragged it down quality-wise have been treated like minor footnotes at most. If you don’t believe me, just look into how much noise is made about the extended cut of Stripes or the special edition of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I’ve even heard MCU fans express interest in longer versions of The Incredible Hulk or Thor: The Dark World.

Worst of all, I think a lot of this bile sends a message that might damage the film industry going forward (i.e. not even critics give a damn if the biggest titles on the market are increasingly assembly-line white noise). Speaking purely from the perspective of an up-and-coming filmmaker, this snide dismissive attitude is insanely dispiriting and yet it is something that’s becoming more common these days (which is all the more troublesome). Do I even need to recall Edgar Wright’s infamously acrimonious departure from the first Ant-Man or the lightning rod of controversy that was Phil Lord & Chris Miller getting the boot from Solo when they already finished shooting most of the movie?

Regardless, I can’t say I’m entirely on board with the Snyder Cut movement either. Even if such a massive support for creative vision is comforting (if only within the realm of comic book blockbusters) and raising money for suicide prevention charities, there’s still enough deranged malcontents in the lot that warrant serious debate.

So, in the end, all I really have to say is let go of this. If the Snyder Cut comes out, good. Let people be excited for it. Don’t rain on their parade even if it is held together with duct tape and prayer. What’s the worst that can happen? There’s certainly more pressing matters in the current climate.

So...I Started A Podcast About Weird Movies

Over the past few months, I've been developing a podcast. I've wanted to do one for years and I've tried to launch two in the past. Yet, neither got off the ground.

But, that's all changed. I've settled on an idea and gathered my materials together. Words will be said and things will happen...I guess. Introducing Warped Celluloid, the best new podcast for far-out films.

Here's the cover art...

...pretty vibrant, isn't it?

Anyway, the structure of each episode goes as follows. Every two weeks, my co-host Chandler and I will talk about a weird film usually chosen by me (what makes it unique, interesting filmmaking techniques, fun bits of trivia or behind-the-scenes stories, context within film history, etc.). Each discussion will last for about 30-90 minutes. At the beginning of each month, we'll talk about two movies specially chosen as a double feature by yours truly. Maybe, we get a whole hour and a half out of talking about Midsommar and Sleepaway Camp in one episode. Who knows?

We'll be launching the show in some time within the next three weeks. For our inaugural episode, we'll be covering the punk rock sci-fi cult comedy Repo Man (1984, dir. Alex Cox) and a darkly comedic indie gem called The Art of Self-Defense (2019, dir. Riley Stearns). The theme binding these two? New Year's Resolutions! How? Just hold on a little while longer. All will be explained in good time.

Stay tuned! You can find the show in the following platforms:
iTunes
Spotify
YouTube