'RRR,' Benoit Blanc and more close out my break
Starting 2023 with some greatness from 2022
I started the recent holiday break with a list of about 15 films from 2022 that I wanted to start catching up on before the end of January, when I’ll announce my best-of list. It’s been a bit harder to catch up on films this year because the critics group I’m normally a part of – and which provides participants with end-of-year screeners – disbanded last year, and it’s not exactly easy to run out to the theater every night and weekend with two young kids at home.
Still, we live in an age where distribution windows are rapidly shortening, a side effect of the dominance of streaming exacerbated by the pandemic. And while I have strong concerns about what this means for the future of theatrical releases, particularly for non-blockbusters, it does mean that new releases are available to watch at home much sooner than they were in the past, and the majority of 2022 films that I need to catch up on are currently available on streamers or for rent/purchase on VOD.
I didn’t get through all 15 films on my list, and didn’t really expect to. But I made a dent. I’ve already written about Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio and a few others. There are films I’m sure I won’t get to by the end of my (self-imposed) deadline, but I’m already in a position where I have a top 10 list that is going to hurt to cut. I’m not sure whether I’ll write about everything I catch up on, although I’m sure what I don’t discuss here will be mentioned on We’re Watching Here. But there are several I caught up with on break that I think are worth talking about a bit. Unlike the last entry, which was a little more organized and evenly focused, this is going to be a bit more rambling, just due to the number of films I saw (and the fact that some of these may come up later when we talk best-of lists or Oscar nominations), so I didn’t want to do full-fledged reviews or even capsule reviews. So, we’ll use a bit more of a bullet format.
Let’s go!
As soon as I logged off my work computer on Dec. 23, I opened my personal computer, logged into Netflix and popped on Rian Johnson’s Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. I was a big fan of 2019’s Knives Out, but I think Johnson might have topped himself with this second Benoit Blanc whodunnit. Johnson has an almost supernatural ability to rope in audiences, and he seems to delight in delivering the opposite of what viewers think they’re getting before revealing what they really want from his movies. This film starts with promises of a murder-mystery dinner that we expect to go awry in one way, but then twists and contorts itself into multiple other directions that are unexpected, clever and deeply satisfying.
Daniel Craig ended his tenure as James Bond two years back, and while I liked him in the role, I’m happy it frees his dance card up to do as many Benoit Blanc movies as he wants; I hope this is a character that lasts throughout his career. He’s clearly having great fun playing the southern-fried detective. The nature of the story means he gets to indulge a few sides of Blanc, including one that seemed to lay on the cornpone a bit too thick until Johnson supplied a reason for it. I love that he’s a smart character, but also that he’s a compassionate one, and that both films allow him to serve as an ally to a person in need of assistance and justice and sets them up as the true hero of the film. I also love how Johnson casually doles out personal information about the detective throughout the film, giving us just enough to expand our view of the character without making this a film about Benoit Blanc. The detective in a whodunnit should be kept at a remove; the true protagonist here is revealed so cannily that I laughed when I realized what type of story Johnson was actually telling.
There’s been a lot of debate back and forth about Johnson using this film as his way take tech bro billionaires – most pointedly, a certain Twitter owner – and influencers down a peg. As someone who detests both Elon Musk and anyone who would sum up their career as “influencer,” I’m okay with it. It helps that he’s aided by such a funny cast. Ed Norton is livelier and funnier than I’ve seen him in ages, and I loved how perfectly straight he plays Miles Bron’s confident buffoonery. Kate Hudson hasn’t been this watchable in a very long time; it might be my favorite role of hers since Almost Famous. Dave Bautista continues to prove he’s the most versatile wrestler-turned actor, and Janelle Monae is fantastic in a dual role.
Glass Onion is funny and smart, and to discuss it too much would be to ruin the fun. But most importantly, it works as a mystery, building on itself so intricately that I couldn’t wait to watch it again and see how the pieces interconnected (this is one of only a few 2022 releases I’ve seen twice). It continues to mark Johnson as one of the most skilled storytellers Hollywood has, and makes Knives Out a franchise I hope continues for a long time. (Now streaming on Netflix).The Menu hit HBO Max on Jan. 3, and I was eager to check it out because so many of my critic friends had flipped for it when it hit theaters. I don’t think I quite share their wholesale enthusiasm; Mark Mylod’s film looks great and has some biting satire, but it believes it’s smarter than it truly is. But still, I had a lot of fun with it. Ralph Fiennes is great as a renowned chef with a killer menu in store for a select group of guests, and the film is at its best when its final agenda is kept a secret, with hints as to what’s in store doled out in drips. The film is part horror and part social commentary, and while that second component might be a bit on the nose in places, it’s still fairly potent and laced with enough black humor to work. There’s a great ensemble of hateful people for the chef to torment here, but I have to give props in particular to Nicholas Hoult, who nails the foodie douchebag persona. And Anya Taylor-Joy, as always, is solid, this time a great foil for Fiennes’ character, and the emotional entry point into this weird world. The film has a lot to say about our culture of consumption, our relationships to service workers and thoughtless criticism, and while it’s never quite revelatory or scary, it’s still a fun ride. It’s goosed by some truly luscious food photography; if I didn’t know what was in any of this, I’d be asking for seconds. (Now Streaming on HBO Max).
Korean auteur Park Chan-wook is beloved by many, but his films run hot and cold for me. I recognize, for instance, that Oldboy is ingeniously structured and technically brilliant, but it’s a bit too misery-soaked and sadistic for my liking. But I was quite taken with his latest, Decision to Leave, a Hitchock-influenced mystery-romance that might not bring anything new to the table in terms of story, but is exquisitely crafted and lands an unexpected emotional punch. Yes, the detective in love with the suspect story is old hat, but Chan-wook gives it new life. The film’s plot unfolds into interesting new directions, each bringing unexpected revelations and emotional connections. Chan-wook pulls images straight from Vertigo and other Hitchcock classics, but provides his own impressive aesthetic tweak; this film’s shot transitions are flat-out astonishing. The film is both a mystery and a love story, but its romance lacks much physical affection. That’s by design; it isn’t until the film drops an emotional bombshell in its final moments that you realize how deeply involved you’ve become, and the film ends on a note that is both haunting and romantic. (Now streaming on Mubi and available to rent on VOD).
A much different love story, but no less moving or haunting, is Sara Dosa’s Fire of Love. This National Geographic documentary looks at the work of Katia and Maurice Krafft, a married couple united in their passion for volcanoes. The Kraffts died together in 1992 – this isn’t a spoiler; we’re told it at the film’s opening – and the movie, narrated by Miranda July, looks at both their love and their research, which were more often than not co-mingled. As a nature documentary, it’s fascinating. The bulk of the film is composed of 16mm images and photographs of volcanoes, and it’s astonishing. The Kraffts often got so close to volcanoes that the eruptions of smoke and lava around the ashen surface have a look closer to science fiction than science. And their work was extremely important, leading to evacuation plans that saved thousands of lives. But the poetic approach to the couple’s relationship and their philosophical look at their love for these deadly forces is what really sticks. What drives someone to risk their life? Would the two have been as successful on their own, or did their relationship cause their research to thrive? What is it like to be a human who lives 70-ish years constantly facing entities that have been here since our planet’s creation? It’s a fascinating, haunting and often moving film, and I highly recommend it. (Now streaming on Disney+).
Near the end of our break, our entire family went to check out Avatar: The Way of Water; it was the second time for my son and I, the first for my wife and daughter. I won’t belabor my already belabored thoughts on the film. I still am quite taken with it, even if James Cameron’s tin ear for dialogue stood out a tad more this time (my wife, on the other hand, loved the visuals but was annoyed by the simplistic plot). But I did want to briefly talk about my experience seeing this in high-frame rate. As I said before, my only prior experience with HFR was with Peter Jackson’s first Hobbit movie, and it was one of the most unpleasant moviegoing experiences I’ve ever had (it doesn’t help that that movie is awful). I’m still not 100% sold on HFR. I think in dialogue scenes, particularly with human characters, it still looks cheap and rushed (much of this might come from identifying it with videotape and news footage; for my son, who plays a lot of games that use HFR, it didn’t bother him. It’s going to be interesting to see if this is a generational thing). Cameron’s decision to use it intermittently helps, since the dialogue scenes can still be presented at 24fps. But the decision also means that the film unexpectedly cranks into HFR without notice, and it was often jarring. But when it works – most notably in the action and underwater sequences – I understand the appeal. There’s a clarity and fluidity to the images that’s astonishing; it’s like looking through a window. A big ding of HFR is that it makes things look “too real;” when that’s used on images where nothing on the screen is real, it just increases the tangibility and gives them a realism that I couldn’t shake. I don’t think Cameron’s quite there with HFR yet, but he’s making progress. I’m curious to see if he’ll continue playing with this in two years, when Avatar 3 gets here. (Avatar: The Way of Water is currently in theaters).
Finally, I closed out the break with the Indian action epic RRR, which I’d heard nothing but raves about since it opened last spring and became an international phenomenon. This is my first experience with Indian cinema (Slumdog Millionaire doesn’t count), but I doubt it will be my last. This three-hour epic – about a fictitious partnership between real-life revolutionaries Rama Raju and Komaram Bheem – is one of the most visually audacious, ludicrously energetic and preposterously entertaining films I’ve seen. It’s not historical fiction; it’s instead history as mythology, with every action sequence big and insane, every emotion broad and earnest. Indian superstars N.T. Rama Rao Jr. and Ram Charan have explosive chemistry as the two leads, and director S.S. Rajamouli understands how to pitch the action, comedy and emotion so that it just flat-out works. The action pieces are insane – there are animals used as weapons, firefights via piggyback ride, a bridge rescue that ends with the most amazing handshake I’ve ever seen – and, yes, in the fashion of most Indian films, there are song and dance sequences peppered throughout (“Naatu Naatu” might be the scene of the year). But this isn’t simply a movie to see because of how crazy it is. It genuinely works because of its earnestness and its core theme of friendship. The action sequences move with a scale and absurdity that makes you understand how little imagination today’s comic book movies truly have; but you couldn’t make this movie in the United States because of how afraid audiences seem to be about emotional vulnerability between male characters and our obsession with making things grounded and rational (a Marvel movie of this size would undercut every gloriously big action sequence with a quip; this film is drenched in sincerity). I understand this plays like gangbusters with an engaged crowd, and I can see why. In a year of big, bold spectacle, this is the biggest, boldest and most wildly entertaining. (Now streaming on Netflix).
That’s where we’ll leave things today. But on Friday, I’ll be back with a look forward, anticipating what’s in store for 2023!