Do I like movies again?
Year-end catch ups, plus a busy week of reviews.
A few months back, I began to wonder whether I’d stopped liking movies.
The question was prompted by a string of weeks where every single review that I wrote of a new release seemed to trend negative. Bullet Train (1.5 stars out of 5). Pinocchio (1 star). The Greatest Beer Run Ever (2.5 stars). Hocus Pocus 2 (2.5 stars) When Clerks III is the high point of your star rankings — and 3 out of 5 stars is no masterpiece — for more than a month, you start questioning things.
I’m being a bit facetious, of course. I’ve been reviewing films for more than 15 years, and I’m well aware that there are simply periods where there’s a glut of mediocre product. The same way that my dad would always swear each season was his last to play softball, I usually make some comment along the lines of “I’m about done with reviewing films” each summer. And then the fall movies come along, and once again I’m in love with the form.
It seemed to come a little later this year. September was largely a bust, and I spent the majority of October watching older movies. But as soon as Halloween ended, it felt like I was gifted with a deluge of great movies, both new releases and a few from earlier this year. Just last week, I saw four fantastic movies within the space of three days.
My kids were off school and I was off work last Election Day, so I decided to extend the weekend by taking that Monday off. As I’ve done the past few years, I made it a double-feature day. As soon as my daughter was on the bus, I headed to the movie theater at our local mall, ordered a large coffee and sat back in my heated recliner for the first of two movies. It’s a great way to spend a cold morning.
The first of the day was Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees on Inisherin, a movie I was probably destined to like, as I was a fairly big fan of many of his previous films, including In Bruges, a previous collaboration with Banshee stars Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson. This might be my favorite of his films, though. It’s a bleakly funny work that has the feel of a folktale, and some of the year’s best dialogue. And while it’s often very funny, it also can be a deeply sad look at our tendencies to hold fast to our own wants without considering the needs of another.
Farrell is fantastic as a jovial, yet simple guy, the highlight of whose day is getting a drink with his buddy at the local pub. He’s deeply hurt when that buddy (Gleeson) stops hanging out with him; not because the’ve had a fight but because he simply doesn’t like him anymore. Rather than give his friend space, Farrell’s character pushes. And rather than try to meet his friend halfway, Gleeson’s character decides to take extreme measures to keep his ex-bud away, measures that hurt him more than his old pal.
Set against the backdrop of civil war, Banshees isn’t exactly an allegory, but the conflict informs the tension between its two leads. McDonagh’s script is perceptive and funny, capturing the absurdity that comes when men dig in their heels on petty conflicts but also offering an empathetic look at how friendships form our identities and the way depression can cloud our outlook. The performances are among the year's best, and the film wisely never tries to make a Main Point and instead focuses on the disastrous consequences of this tumultuous relationship. It’s comedy and tragedy rolled into one, and one of the year’s best films.
As soon as Banshees ended, I went across the hall for Todd Field’s Tȧr, which is basically a two-and-a-half-hour reminder that Cate Blanchett is one of our greatest living actors. She plays a celebrated composer on the cusp of one of her biggest professional victories, and the film details her genius, along with the strained relationships and ethical compromises that come with it.
I’ll admit that although I’d heard the raves, I was hesitant to see this because many people made it sound like “Cancel Culture: The Movie.” But I’d enjoyed Field’s previous films, In the Bedroom and Little Children, enough that I was willing to take a look. And I’m glad I did. Yes, Tȧr features a brilliant and powerful protagonist who has abused that power. But it’s less a morality play and more a character study, aware of Lydia Tȧr’s potentially monstrous side and misdeeds, but also sympathetic to her as an artist swept up in the privileges that come with her position. It’s about institutions that enable bad behavior by turning a blind eye until it bites them in the ass, and involves several conversations about whether we can, or should, separate the art from the artist. It refreshingly doesn’t offer answers but instead invites dialogue, and while I imagine that refusal to spoon-feed audiences will frustrate some, it’s the mark of a smartly written and expertly directed film.
Field’s writing is literate and layered, and his direction strong as ever. But nearly two weeks after seeing Tȧr, it’s still Blanchett’s performance that towers in my mind. To say it’s one of her best is obviously high praise; she’s an actress who regularly outperforms her peers. It’s not just the ease with which she conveys that she’s a musical genius; not just a good composer, but potentially one of the greats. It’s how she creates a character who is at once brilliant, powerful, manipulative and driven, never demanding that we like Lydia but still allowing us to sympathize with her. Even in her harshest moments, she never becomes a monster or a cartoon (aside from one potential moment that might go too far into camp near the film’s climax). She’s able to make us both feel that justice has been served when Lydia reaches her downfall but also make us kind of root for her as she steps into her humbling next phases. It’s a great performance, and I’d be shocked if there’s any serious competition for Blanchett at this year’s Oscars.
Because I was so taken with Farrell’s performance in Banshees of Inisherin, I went home that evening and rented After Yang, which a fellow critic had recommended to me earlier in the year. It’s the latest feature from director Kogonada, whose Columbus is still unseen by me, but after this, I’ll be rectifying it soon.
Based on a short story, After Yang is a gentle bit of science fiction featuring Farrell as Jake, the head of a family in the near future. He and his wife, Kyra (Jodie Turner-Smith), have adopted a young Chinese girl and, to help her understand and maintain a link to her heritage, have also purchased Yang (Justin H. Min), an android designed to help young people understand their backgrounds. The film follows Jake’s attempts to repair Yang when the android breaks down, and the emotional and existential questions he encounters along the way.
After Yang is one of the most thoughtful and beautifully composed films I’ve seen this year. So much care is put into every setting and every shot subtly gives us more information about these characters and this world. Probably best described as Malick with a slight dose of Steven Spielberg’s A.I., the movie explores our relationships with machines, the connections we have with our fellow man, the nature of memory and what it means to be human. It has deep thoughts, but the film never gets wrapped up in them at the expense of its humanity. I particularly enjoyed Farrell in this, as Jake learns to be a better husband and father through learning about Yang’s memories and fascinations. Like Marcel, the Shell With Shoes On, another of my favorites from this year, left me looking differently at the world when I finished it. .
I have a review for Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun up at CinemaNerdz, and it’s another of the year’s best movies. This was another late-night view, as A24 sent over a digital screener, and my only regret is that I wish I had seen this theatrically. This is a movie that demands a viewer’s attention, and not giving it a close look at several crucial moments removes context that is key to understanding its emotional and thematic hooks. It’s a deeply haunting movie about the relationship between parents and their kids, and how we see our parents differently through the lens of adulthood. It’s not about anything that happens or is said during the father-daughter vacation it follows, but about the things left unsaid, the struggles we hide from our children, and the distance that sets in as we grow older and become our own individuals.
Aftersun is a slow-mover, and I can understand some viewers growing impatient with it. But it hit me like a sledgehammer. I’m 43, a bit older than the father in this film. But my kids are about the same age as Sophie. And there’s a shift that happens late into the pre-teen years as your kids stop viewing you as the center of the universe and begin to have their own interests, pursuits and views on life. It’s not that you become less important to them, but there’s a bit of an emotional disconnect that necessarily sets in as they continue their own personal development. I think Josh Larsen sums it up well in his review:
“There is a time, probably somewhere around 11, when your kid no longer wants to hold your hand. It’s inevitable, understandable, and devastating. Aftersun captures the full weight of this experience.”
Of course, there’s more going on. The father has his own demons he’s running from, and the film is told not from his perspective but from his daughter’s as she tries to understand the things he hid from her. It’s a staggering and powerful work of empathetic imagination for those willing to give their time to it.
Streaming’s Greetings
This is a big weekend for streaming films, which makes sense. The Thanksgiving holiday is going to bring tons of family gatherings, and the streamers want to give them plenty of reasons to fire up their apps after the turkey’s gone. Two of this week’s big streaming movie releases are Christmas-related, while other is Disney’s latest attempt to recapture the magic of a past hit. I’ve reviewed them all at CinemaNerdz, but I’ll provide some brief thoughts below.
A Christmas Story Christmas (HBO Max): I’m big enough to admit when I’m wrong. A few weeks back, I described this using the Norm MacDonald joke: “Happy birthday Jesus; I hope you like crap.” But while A Christmas Story Christmas won’t replace the original in the Christmas pantheon, I was surprised to learn there’s more to it than yuletide regurgitation. Yes, it attempts to rehash some of its predecessor’s most beloved moments and largely fails. But there’s a sweetness and warmth that the original lacks, and I appreciated its focus on the absurdities of doing Christmas as a parent. My review.
Spirited (Apple TV+): Your enjoyment of this will largely depend on your tolerance for the comedic personas of Ryan Reynolds and Will Ferrell, and your affection for musicals. I found this meta twist on A Christmas Carol to be enjoyable and surprisingly moving in places, proving that Dickens’ story has a power that is hard to hide. Reynolds and Ferrell are hit-and-miss at the comedy, but commit to the musical bits and are surprisingly effective in the film’s more earnest moments. But there’s no way this thing should be 2 hours and 10 minutes long. My review.
Disenchanted (Disney+): I’m shocked that my least favorite of this week’s streaming releases is the sequel to Enchanted, a movie I had a great time with in 2007. But Adam Shankman’s long-awaited sequel has none of the original’s wit or charm, and even songs by the great Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz can’t save this. Amy Adams has fun indulging some of Giselle’s wicked side, but other than that, this one is a dull, confused and shrill slog. My review.
Coming next week
As I said, next week is the Thanksgiving holiday and my plan is to not open a laptop at all between Christmas and Sunday evening if I can help it. And I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to read newsletters on a weekend you’d rather spend relaxing with family. So, I have a special post queued up for Tuesday evening. I’ll have a review for The Fabelmans at CinemaNerdz by mid-week, and I’ll try to update you all on that. And I’m hoping to have something special in store that I’ll pre-schedule for the first Sunday of Advent. But we’ll be deviating from the schedule just a bit.