Film Criticism and Fiction Writing by Derek Jacobs
Writer and director Rick Famuyiwa opens his film Dope with a clear homage to Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction. Both films begin with a title card sporting definitions of the film’s title. Three definitions unveil:
dope
Joel and Ethan Coen have crafted a peculiar ode to old Hollywood in Hail, Caesar! The principal protagonist in the film is Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin), a producer and “fixer” tasked with making sure that everything runs smoothly at Capitol Pictures. He hops from fire to fire, and along the way gives us a haphazard overview of the Hollywood studio system by visiting the sets of different pictures. While different threads of his life entwine together into a coherent story by the end of the film, particular elements fail or succeed largely on the merits of the superb supporting cast of characters. Regardless, moments of hilarity exist in this mish-mash of tone and style, and the worst sin Hail, Caesar! can be accused of is failing to synthesize its zany parts into a cohesive whole.
So first off, sorry to everyone who reads this review. I wanted to make it worthy of the Deadpool movie, but I don’t think that is going to be a reasonable possibility. Regardless, I will press on and gush all over almost everything about this movie in that annoying way that over-excited movie critics do. Hopefully, by the time I am done you’ll be sufficiently bored with my analysis that you’ll go out and see the film for yourself and start annoying your own friends with how good Deadpool is. Circle of life.
In Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, the eponymous high school student is always the smartest person in the room – even when he isn’t really there. Ferris’ presence is always felt as he and his friends masquerade around Chicago on a beautiful school day in May, intent to play the ultimate game of hooky. This loose narrative allows the film to play with its tonality, as various vignettes or scenarios play out that have little effect on the story other than re-affirming the brilliance of Ferris. In a sense, the film works as a farce focusing on this larger-than-life teenager, but along the way it manages to speak poignant truths with timeless importance.
The Sundance Film Festival is the largest independent film festival in the United States, and every year near the end of January, thousands descend upon Utah to watch the latest offerings of independent filmmakers from all over the world. Indie darlings like Little Miss Sunshine often debut at the festival, and there is always at least one hot ticket that leaves everyone scrambling. Many of the filmmakers are seeking distribution, so beneath the surface of the program itself there is a lot of wheeling-and-dealing. This year was no exception, but the denizens of the Sundance bargaining tables looked a little different this time around. Indie studios like A24 and Fox Searchlight were still there, but the big players were Amazon Studios and Netflix, with each of the streaming services purchasing rights to five films!
The films of Charlie Kaufman often deal with isolation, loneliness, and depression – and his latest film Anomalisa is no exception. Directed by Kaufman and Duke Johnson and based on the stage play written by Kaufman, this stop-motion animated film brilliantly takes advantage of the medium with inspired stylistic choices and the peculiarities that we are accustomed to from Kaufman. The result is a heartbreaking story about a man desperately seeking an escape from the mundanity of his life, and not really succeeding. Along the way, Anomalisa contains moments of profound beauty, as these stop-motion puppets struggle with emotions and problems which are startlingly human.
Maybe I should rename these State of the Blog posts, “Broken Promises – [Month] Edition”. It feels like every time I say I am going to publish certain posts, and then invariably I can’t get to everything I say I am going to do. While January did see me post a few of the things I said that I would, I failed to re-boot the Classic Reviews Friday and also didn’t finish up the larger essays that I wanted to. The last couple of weeks were a little more busy in the lab, but my morale has not evaporated completely. So, once again, I am going to touch base with you fine folk who actually read this blog and tell you what I have in store for February.
You may have noticed that here on Plot and Theme I never attach a grade to my reviews. Distilling an entire film into a single number or letter has always rubbed me the wrong way, as it inherently removes any critical nuance from the discourse. But, I am aware that most reviews do provide a grade in summation, and these can help gauge the overall quality of the film. More recently, with the rise of review aggregators like Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic, scores of these reviews are condensed down into a single number. The result is a peculiar derivative of a derivative – thoughts and words transformed into a number, then that number lost in a sea of others. The purpose of this piece is to explain that process in more detail, and ultimately determining if any of these procedures result in answering a simple question: Is <Insert Film > any good?
The Revenant is a gorgeous slog. From the opening panorama to the final close-up, Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s frontier survivalist epic confronts the viewer with this discord. This tension colors the film completely, elbowing out more nuanced analyses of character arcs or thematic material upon first glance. But to claim, as some critics have, that The Revenant is a pretty film devoid of meaning is an absurdity. The harrowing cinematic experience certainly offers visual splendor up front and is heavily fettered in a masochistic cloak, but underneath it all, the insights into the human condition are many and varied. Besides marveling at the strength of the human spirit or the futility of revenge, themes of spiritual rebirth, everlasting love, betrayal, racism, and even the importance of friendship and connection with another human being in this vast, cold world.
Earlier today, the nominees for the 88th annual Oscars were announced, and this is the first time Plot and Theme has existed during an Oscar season, so I am going spout my nonsense preferences and commentary for all who wish to read. Before we get started, it is important to understand that these are not the films that I think will win the award, but the films that I think deserve to win. It is a slight difference, and if anyone cares about predicting the actual winners, I may do that on the eve of the ceremony (or, I could even live Tweet as the Oscars are happening).