- Bohemian Rhapsody (2018; Dir. Bryan Singer). Fictional account of the musical career of Farrokh Bulsara, better known as Freddie Mercury, vocalist of Queen, from 1970 to 1985 --covering the behind-the-scenes process of several hit songs as well as the drama stemming for a world unwilling to accept the unconventional. Be it song rhythms or sexuality...
Part musical (sometimes, borderline Concert movie), part Queer drama, what you have here is a rather entertaining homage both to Queen's music and to the figure itself of Freddie Mercury. Much has been discussed about how true the movie is to the facts, mostly by people and critics who seem to have trouble understanding that fictional biographies are fiction, not documentaries. To be sure, this movie is somewhat toned down for a mainstream audience. So what, exactly, were people expecting from a Hollywood production?
But the interest here is the movie, first, as a movie (and it is an honest Queer drama, highlighting people's rejection of Mercury's bisexuality --from explicit harassment by the media to subtle bigotry from close friends), then as a musical (and it is a pretty good sampling of Queen's hits). It is both an entertaining drama and an introduction to a cult musician / music band. Overall, recommended.
- Halloween. (1978. Dir. John Carpenter). Dr. Sam Loomis is desperately searching for an escaped patient. Meanwhile, ordinary Laurie Strode is getting ready for a quiet Halloween, babysitting as usual. Both will soon cross paths with an evil figure --Michael Myers, determined to leave a path of death and destruction behind him...
Seminal Horror movie, a touchstone of Slasher movies (some argue that this IS the birth of that particular sub-genre. Others argue it has predecessors --like Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Black Christmas, Peeping Tom, the entire Ghiallo sub-genre, itself preceded by Krimi movies... well, you get the point), and of the careers of both director Carpenter and screenwriter Debra Hill. There are thousands and thousands of essays about this movie, ranging all the way to entire books written about it.
So influential is this movie that there have been at least four separate attempts to jumpstart it again. Be it "Halloween II" and all subsequent sequels, be it "Halloween: 20 years later", be it the 2007 remake, the 2018 reboot-sequel...
...thousands and thousands of imitators...
And nearly all are interesting for essentially missing the point.
Right, say so many critics, bloggers, fans, horror buffs. Because it's all about Michael. Because it's all about Laurie. Because it's about the evisceration of 70's Americana. Because it's about suspense. Because it's all about subtle violence. Because it's all about setting the holy rules of the slasher movie. Because... because....
No, not really. It's none of these things. It's simply an effective scary movie.
A scary movie that was a pioneer in so many ways, yes. That brought a lot of specific themes to the mainstream consciousness, yes. All of that and more.
But fundamentally, this movie's real virtue, and the reason not a single of its sequels, remakes, imitators, etcetera, etcetera has ever come close to capturing the original's lasting power, is just that: Because it is not attempting to do anything except being an effective scary movie. It means to scare, period.
Does that mean one shouldn't make analyses of this movie? Oh, not at all. Critique, after all, isn't really about understanding a movie (or book, or comic, or really any work of art), it's about exploring our own interests and obsessions using said work of art as a totem. Some are more upfront about it and some are less so.
What it does mean is that the best way to appreciate this movie is to watch it, to see if it retains its power for us --or if it's your first time, to see if it lives up to its own reputation for you.
- Venom. (2018, Dir. Ruben Fleischer). Exposé journalist Eddie Brock is down on his luck. After messing with an immensely powerful billionaire, Brock has lost his job, his home and his fiancée. He has also recently gotten involved with a new story involving what appear to be alien parasites. And here Brock might have a chance to turn around his life... for better or even worse. All thanks to a whole new paramour --one of the alien parasites, who goes by the name "Venom"...
Immensely fun superhero... okay, "anti-hero" movie, and a seminal lesson in how to adapt a comic book to the screen: Specifically by cutting out all unnecessary baggage. It cuts the character of Venom out of anything related to Spider-man and the extended Marvel Universe, and the result is a more entertaining film with a lead character that quite a few people have identified with. (It also pisses off a certain type of critic and blogger, which while not at all important to the movie itself is a satisfying result, honestly).
More important is the way the movie holds up regardless of the comparison to other current superhero movies. It's basically a buddy action film (with the kind of romantic subtext that becomes text as the story goes on), with a good-natured yet highly reluctant protagonist. Eddie Brock is no hero, or more accurately no devil-may-care action man -he's simply a distressed guy trying to be good. That he winds up paired with another underdog (well, by alien standards) is simply one chance he seizes and just happens to get lucky with.
Also notable is Brock's ex-fiancee, Anne. What would normally be a put-upon, estranged love interest, is if anything a character with as much darkness as Venom (rather than Brock) --as she points out early in the movie, she is a lawyer who defends the very people Brock denounces, and after briefly donning the Venom symbiote, actually does kill somebody, which she comes to terms with rather quickly. By the end of the movie she was switched to pro-bono cases, perhaps having come to terms with her own dark impulses.
Are there flaws? Yes, though not really the ones you have heard. The CGI does what it's supposed to do, which is create an image that should feel literally Alien, something not quite of this world, only vaguely familiar. Rather the problem is with the mandatory connection to other Marvel movies --the usual cameo by Stan Lee (dispensing a very inappropriate piece of advice) and a rather worthless after-credits scene that is literally a clip from "Into the Spider-verse" (that it's animated and thus completely at odds with the movie we just saw is another major problem). The mid-credits scene, with another mandatory cameo from the comic books, is somewhat more interesting... oh, okay, to hell with avoiding spoilers:
It's a cameo by serial killer Cletus Kasady (aka Carnage). It's also a scene we have seen a million times before, with villains ranging from Hannibal Lecter to several versions of The Joker. It still does what it's supposed to.
Overall, a genuinely entertaining action (or sci-fi, or superhero) movie that is --well, it's as divisive as you have heard. Decide for yourself.
- Inside Out. (2015. Dir, Pete Docter). 11-year-old Riley is trying to navigate a hard time --moving to a different city, with all her traditions and memories suddenly uprooted. But we are not just following Riley as she tries to adjust --we follow the journey of her main emotions as well. Primarily through Joy, who was the first Emotion and is herself trying to adjust to a situation she can't seem to make any better no matter how hard she tries. But perhaps the answer lies in listening to the things we usually try to push away...
Remarkable Pixar production, both from a technical point (it truly is cutting-edge animation) and from a storytelling one. At its heart a tale about the importance of acknowledging grief in order to grow up --and how as much as growing up always hurts, it is no less important. It is appropriate, then, that the movie is itself quite sad at times (it's the kind of movie intended for children that sometimes makes adults tear up more, from sheer nostalgia) --and ultimately optimistic, too. We follow Riley's transition towards a certain self-actualization. Her childhood ideals crumble and vanish (literally, inside her head), but in order to build something new. As she develops more complex world-views, her Emotions grow. Interestingly, Joy herself gets to experience her companion's emotions --she gets to experience being angry, scared, repulsed and sad, all in order them to better understand each other.
All in all, recommended. For all ages and all audiences, really.
- Wicked. Gregory Maguire. Elphaba was a strange one since the minute she was born --with green skin and a natural affinity for the weird. She was destined for greatness even when she lived her whole life simply trying to make sense of it. Barely even aware of her title: The Wicked Witch of the West!
The infamous novel that reimagined the classical Oz novels from the point of view of the villain and for a decidedly adult audience. This novel is perhaps more famous for starting or popularizing several trends and media. It was adapted to a very successful Broadway musical (which for the record is VERY good, and also quite different to the book in terms of plot, if actually pretty similar in spirit), it launched Maguire's career as a writer specialized in re-writing popular fairy tales and books for children, adapting them to adult sensibilities ("Confessions of an ugly stepsister", "Mirror, mirror", "After Alice"). It became the first in a (so far) four book series. It revitalized a tradition of dark Oz variations (before this, there was the movie "Return to Oz", the short story "Emerald City Blues" and so on. After this there was the "Dorothy must die" book series, the characters' inclusions in the comic book "Fables", the MacFarlane Toys "The twisted world of Oz" series and so on). It popularized a trend of re-presenting classical fairy tales and children's book adaptations from the point of view of famous female villains (the movie "Maleficent", the tv show "Once upon a time"), itself a classical literary device. All of which nearly overshadows the novel itself.
So how is this novel? Is it a light-hearted fantasy with a political subtext, like the musical? No. Is it a cynical, bigoted novel written solely to piss on a childhood memory, as quite a few critics and bloggers say? No, not at all. It is a more realistic exploration of what a fantasy land like Oz would have been in the harsh 1930's, as other literary critics and other bloggers claim? Not really, no.
So what is it? It's what the book's subtitle tells us: "The life and times of the Wicked Witch of the West". It's a novel that chronicles a character's life from birth to beginning, and in the process illustrates an era. It's just that the character happens to be the infamous Witch (named "Elphaba" --in-universe after Saint AElphaba, and out of it, in homage to original author Frank L. Baum. LFB, get it?), and the era happens to be a fantasy land that is unknowingly living the end of one time (the Wizard's rule).
It does have queer characters aplenty (gay couples, bisexual three-way marriages, lesbian crushes) --for which we are all quite thankful (and yes, author Maguire is himself gay, in case anybody was wondering). It does have a, if you'll pardon the obvious pun, a wicked sense of humor (when the witch addresses Dorothy as "The one whose house had the nerve to make a crash landing on my sister", the girl nonchalantly answers "Well, it wasn't my house in a legal sense, strictly speaking."). It's also enigmatic to the very end (we really only see Elphaba's point of view a handful of times. Most of the time the narrative is more focused on the many characters around her), and often refuses to go where the reader would expect.
All in all, an engaging novel, very much for people interested in the off-beat.
- So you've been publicly shamed. Jon Ronson. An examination of public shaming online, studying several individual cases with far-reaching (often tragic) consequences and different attempts to understand the mob mentality associated with the phenomenon. Includes different interviews and personal confessions from the author about his own experiences --on both sides of the conflict.
So many cases seem vindictive or at least amusing --somebody says or does something online and people pile on them. In many cases it surely feels like social justice --shame on these people for being bad. But the more cases are examined in this book, the more it starts becoming obvious that a lot of it has very little to do with justice and a lot to do with a collective desire for blood, be it literal or metaphorical. And always fundamentally cruel. And always self-righteous --how many people insist they did nothing wrong or that they were "just saying" after too much damage has been inflicted?
Assorted attempts to find a solution seem to be dead-ends. In theory, it is possible for an individual to simply not let public shaming get to them. In practice pretty much the only people who got away unscathed are those whose transgressions are things that world society really doesn't care about. Those who kept a strong facade were nevertheless nothing short of traumatized by the experience.
Then, the punishment tends to be out of proportion: Women and minorities who are shamed online tend to have it much worse. And keep in mind that cases involving men (and yes, cis straight white men) being shamed have ended in them committing suicide. With, of course, people immediately claiming that they had nothing to do with it OR turning against a new victim (usually the one to first call them out, preferably, again, a woman or a minority).
Yet this book isn't simply a string of horror tales, nor is it a self-help book that urges you to be good online. If it's anything, it's a close study of a fascinating and rather alarming phenomena (that is not unique to our times --the book also draws an interesting connection between this and public punishments in previous centuries). Author Ronson himself observes that: "The great thing about social media was how it gave a voice to voiceless people. Let's not turn it into a world where the smartest way to survive is to go back to being voiceless".
In short, a thought-provoking, and perhaps quite necessary book.
- The Duplex. (Nigeria, 2015. Dir. Ikechukwu Onyeka). Emeka has been offered a hell of a bargain: a luxurious duplex for a fairly cheap investment --the perfect place for himself, his wife Adaku and their soon-to-be-born child! Sure, they'll have to make a few sacrifices, such as selling her car and take out quite a few loans. And sure, Adaku is more than a little wary about the property. Oh, and there is the curiosity that the previous owner was apparently in a hurry to sell the house and leave the country. Still, it can't be quite so bad, right?
...Perhaps Emeka should have paid more attention to his wife's sightings of a ghostly figure that roams the house at night...
Nollywood productions, or simply Nigerian films, are a relatively new phenomena, having existed for roughly twenty years (there are quite a few disagreements on this number). As a still emerging movie industry, the offer is quite varied in terms of themes and quality. There are as many highly experimental artistic offerings as there are products intended for a more commercial venture, of which "The Duplex" is one.
One way in which studying low-budget genre productions intended for a non-centralized population is that they will often reflect those population's concerns and interests. Horror, Action, Romance and the like, intended for very specialized audiences (say, Chicano cinema in the US, Andino cinema in Peru, Ghanian English-language cinema and so on) can offer not necessarily a social critique, but a social reflection. These are movies intended to entertain a large audience while keeping certain popular concerns in mind --social and economic unrest, allusions to assorted wars and conflicts, and so on.
The reason for these notes is this: Taken at face value, a movie like "The duplex" would seem a completely unremarkable low-budget horror movie except that it's a Nigerian production (and indeed, most online reviews you'll find of this movie hold it in quite some disdain). But when you consider the specific context in which it was created, it can be more than a little interesting.
Take, for instance, the themes of gender, religion and social responsibility on display:
We have a married middle-class couple, financially and socially stable at first, but in which the husband is determined to climb up the ladder. He is convinced to buy the titular house with the argument that "you'll become a Landlord" (and given the eventual revelations of just how far some people would go to own a property like this, that's no small accomplishment). Adaku, for her part, not only plays along with her husband's plans despite her misgivings --she hides from him exactly how much money she truly has, and goes so far as to arrange for a friend to pretend that she'll loan them the rest of the money they need. Above all, they want to keep up appearances.
Then there is Adaku's pregnancy, and her impression that Emeka cares more about the child (and indeed about his position as a father, as a successful family man) than about her. She even mentions that in part they have stayed with each other because they were both thought to be sterile.
And then there is the conflict of religion and spirituality. Two attempts to reconcile a certain Christian rationality with the situation (praying to God not to "see or hear things that are not there") end in tragedy, while a more traditional ceremony unveils the house's complicated backstory.
It's this backstory that constitutes the weakest part of the movie. After presenting a successful role reversal (at first, only the woman sees the ghost and her husband dismisses her as crazy; halfway through he is the one haunted, while she has regained her autonomy and makes the decision to leave him to his devices), the third act is bogged down by unnecessary plot twists and complications. The actual ending presents an attempt to reconcile the present with the many sins of the past, but it's hard to buy the amount of coincidences necessary for the story to happen as it does.
In sort: A flawed (but not quite so flawed as so many reviewers would have you think), yet interesting curiosity.
