Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Last night I saw Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt.

This was the most fun I've had at a Tarantino film since Pulp Fiction.

The year is 1969 and Rick Dalton (DiCaprio) is a has-been television star that is struggling with the reality that his best days are behind him. Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt) is his stunt double and best friend who has a tarnished reputation in the entertainment industry for allegedly killing his wife. They are both very "Hollywood" in their own right.

Rick lives next door to Roman Polanski (Rafał Zawierucha) on an affluent Benedict Canyon street. He hopes to connect with the famed director, but has yet to encounter him directly. Booth lives alone with his trusted dog and keeps a positive attitude despite his entire existence being dependent on Dalton's success.

We explore Dalton's pain—and hubris—through a series of meetings and parts he's won as he struggles to stay relevant. We understand just how much of a badass Cliff is based on his ability to protect himself in any given situation (even coming face to face with the Manson family on the abandoned ranch where they reside).

They're both hilarious in their own ways, sad as their situation may be, and as we watch them each navigate their self-imposed drama, we become distracted by following the idyllic life of rising star Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie), who is married to Polanski and also lives next door.

Tate hangs out with friends, goes to see her own film at a nearby theater and generally seems like a lovely human being. Anyone who knows the real history of what became of her will feel a sense of dread as the summer progresses in the film.

It would be spoiling everything to go any further, but I will say that the "controversies" (Tarantino's treatment of women and representation of Bruce Lee) in this film I find to be silly. Every thing he does to every woman and the famed Asian star are part of the storytelling that's needed to shape his anti-hero (Booth). The laughs and gasps and reactions from the audience work because of this writing and I for one don't think he needs to apologize for it—he's not making a documentary, after all.

And men did call women "honey" in the workplace in the 1960s (for God's sake in some workplaces, they still do). As for the violence? Well, I knew what I was getting into when I bought a ticket to a Tarantino movie.

What a joy to watch DiCaprio and Pitt on-screen together, clearly having a great time; and what a thrill to see footage of the real Sharon Tate spliced in with Robbie's elegant portrayal of her.

I may just have to go see it again.

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The Biggest Little Farm

Yesterday I saw The Biggest Little Farm, starring John and Molly Chester.

John and Molly are married, living a pleasant life in the city. Molly is a personal chef; John is a documentarian. On one of his assignments, he films a home with an animal hoarder and falls in love with one of the dogs. He and Molly end up adopting said dog, Todd, and soon run into trouble because he won't stop barking. After many unsuccessful attempts to correct the dog's behavior, they're evicted from their apartment and decide to build a completely new life.

The couple buy a farm an hour north of Los Angeles and with the help of a dedicated mentor, commit themselves to reviving the land by farming using old-school methods that are kinder to the environment. This documentary chronicles their first seven years on the farm and all of the tragedy and victory that came with it. From pigs that won't eat to coyotes that murder their ducks and chickens, there's never a dull moment

Throughout the story, thankfully told chronologically, we recognize how idealistic and naive the couple were to start this venture with no previous farming experience, but also root for them because they refuse to give up regardless of the challenges they face. There is never a direct reference to climate change, but I sat there silently thanking them each time they "won" a bit of nature back (i.e. area bees returning and thriving). What they're doing all farmers should be doing.

The animals become family members, the lush landscapes provide both a peaceful retreat and an endless supply of headaches (some more dangerous than you may think) and every moment is entertaining whether you've ever had the desire to live on a farm yourself (I personally, have not).

At one point when their pig, Emma, is giving birth to what seems like an endless amount of piglets, Molly smiles with delight and says "I love our life!"

I, for one, loved watching their life.

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Gloria Bell

This morning I saw Gloria Bell, starring Julianne Moore and John Turturro.

Gloria (Moore) is a fifty-something divorcée working in a standard job, living her best life in the after-hours, dancing the night away at Los Angeles clubs. It's at one of these clubs that she meets Arnold (Turturro), a more recently divorced father of two with a demanding ex-wife and two grown children who are just as needy.

At first, they find bliss in each other's arms, then Gloria grows tired of the hold Arnold's family has over him and from there they begin a frustrating pattern of wanting to be together, but often abandoning plans (sometimes in the middle of said plans). All the while Gloria is navigating a disturbingly loud neighbor, a hairless cat that keeps sneaking into her apartment and her own grown children, who have issues too.

The film seemed to repeatedly remind us that in life, "It's always something."

Moore is fantastic as this independent woman, prone to sing-a-longs and demanding more from the world. Her face never betrays her intentions and her intentions are often bold. That's not to say she doesn't have moments of weakness—one of the best scenes in the film happens when she's most vulnerable and her mother, played by the always-amazing Holland Taylor, comes to pick up the pieces. In those moments of quiet, we really saw the essence of the woman.

That said, the film sometimes meandered too much for my attention span and scenes lingered longer than they needed to for sufficient effect.

Still, you could do worse than spending a few hours with these characters.

~~~

Us

Last night I saw Us, starring Lupita Nyong'o and Winston Duke.

Gabe (Duke) wants to take his family for a relaxing vacation in Santa Cruz, California. They're game ... as long as they can bring along their phones and magic tricks. His wife Adelaide (Nyong'o) has reservations because of an incident that happened to her on the same beach when she was a young girl and voices her apprehension. But they go anyway.

After they meet up with friends and enjoy some sun, the family heads back to their summer house to call it a night. The kids are tucked into bed and the couple is chatting when a family appears at the end of their driveway. At first, Gabe tells everyone not to worry and tries to approach the four with kindness. When they don't respond, things escalate and soon they become hostages in their own home.

Each of the figures who appeared in the driveway appear to be clones of Gabe's family and attack their identical counterparts. Soon the entire group is in chaos, spread out inside and outside of the house and into the neighborhood.

From this point on, the battle continues as more about these "tethered" people is revealed and the family sees what they're up against.

Those who say Writer/Director Jordan Peele has invented his own sub-genre of horror are correct. He doesn't just use psychological tricks, he blends the unknown with a welcome humor to appease the audience at just the right time before launching another "gotcha" moment and finishing with a twist. His techniques are more satisfying than traditional horror because their smarter.

I had a lot of fun at this film and seeing it in a sold-out theater amongst jumpy, squealy filmgoers only added to the experience. Make sure to see this one on the big screen if you can.

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Black Panther

Last night I saw Black Panther, starring Chadwick Boseman and Michael B. Jordan.

T'Challa (Boseman) is Wakanda's new King. He's peace-keeping, well-liked, intelligent and careful to guard the African nation's advanced technology (Vibranium, a super-metal that they develop into clothing, spacecrafts, etc.), so when he's challenged by a long-lost Californian cousin (Jordan) for the crown, things get tense.

It seems like a simple premise ... and it is, but the execution and the underlying meaning goes so much deeper.

Here we are in 2018, still talking about racism, still fighting police brutality toward people of color, still scratching our heads that oppression in any form can still exist. But it does, and the film is quick to point that out. Even the "bad guy" cousin has a reason for the anger that drives him, and for that we have a tough time completely hating him.

What I loved about this movie wasn't only the clear messages of social justice, but the fact it had a little bit of everything: Comedy? Check. Love story? Check. Family drama? Check. Cool sci-fi trickery? Check. Gorgeous cinematography? Check.

I make no secret of the fact I'm not a fan of most superhero flicks, but this is an exception. I was engaged from the moment I sat down to the moment the lights came up. I cared about the characters (thank you for the tears, Sterling K. Brown) immediately and grew tense when my favorites faced danger.

It was well-written, well-directed, well-acted and well-intentioned.

If you haven't seen it, do. I'll be going back, for sure.

~~~

Winchester

This morning I saw Winchester, starring Helen Mirren and Jason Clarke.

Sarah Winchester (Mirren) is a grieving widow who uprooted her east coast life to (literally) rebuild in San Jose, California. She is continually (as in, 24-hrs. a day, 7 days a week) constructing more rooms for her mansion to satisfy the spirits of those killed with the firearms her husband's company manufactured. The year is 1906 and the company (which she partially inherited following her husband's death) would like to get rid of her. Dr. Price (Clarke) is sent to stay with her and prove she's mentally unfit.

Clarke is a favorite of mine from his Brotherhood days, and it goes without saying that Mirren is always perfection. But this film was a huge disappointment despite their best efforts to save a weak script.

Aside from the possessed grand-nephew and some "gotcha" ghoulish appearances, this doesn't feel much like a horror film, or even a thriller. Furthermore, the actual property (which, full disclosure: I have visited) is incredibly captivating, but most of what we see of it here are dark hallways, nails spitting out of walls and slammed doors. I was also let down by the San Francisco earthquake scene, expecting far more supernatural elements at play.

Though many of the facts are correct in the film (the house was severely damaged in the quake of 1906; Sarah did continually build; niece Marion really existed) the fictional story they created to harness the essence of the Winchester history falls flat.

As I sat and watched, I imagined how I would have re-written it (perhaps cold open with a seance; maybe bring to life the wheelbarrow man ghost that supposedly haunts the house present-day; show a present-day tour and flashback). So many possibilities—and the fact I had time to concoct them as I sat there means my boredom was high.

You'd be better off watching a documentary about the property. Those actually have the power to spook you.

~~~

The Kids Are All Right

Today I saw The Kids Are All Right, starring Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo.

Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Moore) are modern family mamas. They're married lesbians living the dream in California with two nearly grown children; one boy, one girl. One from each of their wombs, produced by the same anonymous sperm donor father.

Joni (Mia Wasikowska) has turned 18 and is preparing to leave for college at the end of summer. Her brother, Laser (Josh Hutcherson) is pressuring her to inquire about their biological father because he is not yet of age, but dying of curiosity about his identity.

Finally persuaded, Joni contacts Paul (Ruffalo) and the three arrange to meet. The encounter goes well, and soon Paul has become a positive part of their lives, much to the dismay of their mother Nic, the most controlling (yet also responsible) of the family. Soon both children are spending quality time with him and Jules is designing his backyard (she's a landscape architect that just started her own business).

From here, things go awry as they do in many families: there is jealousy, betrayal, conversations no one ever wants to have—the family, once seemingly harmonious—is falling apart.

Nic, who is the instigator of much of the drama, is played almost too neurotic by Annette Bening. Of course there are people with her issues everywhere in life, but without anything redeeming to credit her with (aside from her obvious love of the family), it's hard to be on her side. In contrast, Mark Ruffalo's Paul is written to be so accepting and universally cool that I wanted to jump through the screen and start my own family with him. And really, he's not my type.

The real prize for acting, and remaining believable throughout the film goes to Julianne Moore. Her Jules is conflicted and honest and wounded and needy and likable all at once. She's one of those characters you can't help but forgive (and would probably do so in life if she existed), and I can't credit just the writing for that achievement. Moore's ability to morph into an entirely different spirit each time she graces the screen is in full form here.

Both children also do fine, though I would've liked more character development for Laser, and overall I would've favored an ending that didn't frustrate me.

I guess not everything about an enjoyably watchable movie can be satisfying.

~~~

Seven Pounds

Today I saw Seven Pounds, starring Will Smith and Rosario Dawson.

Why didn't someone tell me to take a box of Kleenex?

The story begins as Smith's character (though I won't mention his name in the film here; you'll understand why when you see it) is screaming at a blind meat salesman—a stranger, played by Woody Harrelson, for no apparent reason. His home is lavish, his clothing is expensive and he seems to "have it all."

Next, we watch him criticize a man who is somehow in charge of a nursing home and then fight with a childhood friend (played by Barry Pepper, who I'd like to have seen more of).

The first sign of 'nice guy' exhibited by our main character comes when he tracks down Emily (Dawson) who is suffering from congenital heart failure. He poses as an IRS agent and after meeting with her (and instantly liking her), promises to freeze all of the collections on her overdue taxes.

The big question: why is he doing all of this?

We learn in (somewhat predictable) flashbacks why, and the how is revealed much later in the film (impatient folks like me will think too much later).

The main themes I took away from this story were guilt, compassion and redemption.

Though you'll cheer Will's character along in his finer moments, one must realize they're all being contrived based upon a whole lot of judgment.

But that's not to say it wasn't good.

Smith and Dawson make a wonderful match, sparking with chemistry throughout (the makeup team should also be heralded for making Dawson so sick-looking—it exhausted me just watching her), and the supporting players in Pepper, Harrelson, etc. are also perfect in their unfortunately tiny roles.

The final act draws everything together nicely and leaves you wondering if it takes a monumental mistake to provoke such altruism. Or can we even call it that, if redemption is the ultimate goal?

Humboldt County

Tonight I saw Humboldt County, starring Jeremy Strong and Chris Messina.

The story follows Peter (Strong), a bright medical student severely lacking in social skills, who follows a girl (Fairuza Balk) to Humboldt County and remains stranded with her family (though she disappears) for a long period of time.

The family is made up of hippie grandparents (Brad Dourif and the lovely Frances Conroy) who are raising their son and granddaughter, caring for random stray guests and harvesting large amounts of marijuana in the California forest where they reside.

Peter is a fish out of water in their carefree, illegal world, but soon acclimates to their casual lifestyle and befriends the son (Messina), who is more concerned about protecting his crops than preserving his life.

The film begins cleverly, with a very funny opening scene. And the strong presence of Fairuza Balk injects the landscape with a fresh dose of character but unfortunately lulls upon arrival at the hippie homestead (which could've been a set double for Aunt Sarah's pad in Six Feet Under).

The token child is charming and Peter's self-discovery is endearing, but overall, the writing felt too formulaic to be original.

The directors, however, did a fine job of framing the film and providing a very exciting climactic scene at the end. Just don't arrive expecting to see newness in the characters or the story.

Go see this instead for the gorgeous shots of Arcata, California and that beautiful nearby coastline.

Surfwise

Today I saw Surfwise, a documentary about the eccentric Dorian Paskowitz and his large, dysfunctional family.

The film chronicles the lives of Dorian and Juliette, a couple madly in love who married and raised their children as beach gypsies, offering them no education or permanent home.

They usually made their life on the beach—Dorian was a passionate surfer who passed along his love for the sport to all of his children. Aside from this, the children were exposed to music, books and endless travel. They slept "like puppies" according to Dorian, piled in next to one another in the camper, and ate nothing impure (mainly living on a gruel made up of berries, nuts, twigs, etc.). Exercise was important, as was a positive attitude and much rest.

Some may say that Dorian had it right to restrict social norms and create a utopian society for his family, but after seeing this, I can't help but be in the opposing camp.

The adult children, all of whom participate in the film, speak of being cheated out of an education (yet Dad was a Stanford-educated doctor before he married Mom) and forced unnecessarily to live in poverty throughout childhood. Most admit that once they were exposed to creature comforts most of us would take for granted, they begged for a sense of normalcy, which they never got. They also spoke repeatedly about being "scarred" sexually because their parents openly and freely made love in front of them on a nightly basis.

Instead of giving it all up for his children, the interviews with Dorian point to the fact he was doing it all for himself and acted as somewhat of a dictator in the household. There wasn't a lack of structure in their world, it was just one imposed by him rather than outside influences.

If Dorian and Juliette had not produced children, and chosen to live a gypsy lifestyle throughout their adult years, I would say power to them and perhaps even be a bit envious, but to bring children into this lifestyle was nothing short of irresponsible.

Thank goodness their love was enough to produce kind, thoughtful children who grew up to be adults that seem to understand they were "wronged," despite the fact they had some undeniably happy times growing up.

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Bottle Shock

Today I screened Bottle Shock, starring Bill Pullman and Alan Rickman.

My review of the film is available here at Cinebanter.com.

Into the Wild

This morning I saw Into the Wild, starring Emile Hirsch and directed by Sean Penn.

It is the topic of Cinebanter #41, which is available for download here.

Who Killed the Electric Car?

Yesterday I saw the documentary Who Killed the Electric Car?, which offers a frightening look at how large corporations (and our own government) will do anything to ensure their weath, even at the cost of our environmental health.

The fast-paced film, narrated by Martin Sheen, presents the destruction of the GM V1 electric car as a murder complete with suspects, 'trials' (by way of documents and archival footage of the actual California energy hearings) and a full-scale funeral, led by those that were passionately attached to their electric cars (or helped create or sell them).

In a nutshell, the state of California initiated a mandate for cleaner air that required the development/implementation of more energy efficient vehicles. The car companies reluctantly responded and the V1 was born. Released in a limited supply, only for leasing, the cars were quiet, fast, reliable and aesthetically pleasing. Each person who leased one seemed to love their vehicle like a family member and was excited at the prospect of owning one.

But that never happened.

Due to pressure from the oil companies, the federal government and of course, the car corporations, the mandate was killed. And then GM decided to retreive ALL electric cars from circulation once their leases were up and kill those too. They offered no option of purchase although many citizens would've paid above and beyond the asking price to own one.

It was devastating to those who had grew fond of their electric cars, those who had worked to create them, and everyone who cared about the environment/and or our foreign oil policies.

And what was more absurd was that the cars were in excellent working condition—they required little service unless they had a standard problem such as a flat tire. So when the activists discovered that the cars were being transported to a wrecking yard in Arizona to be shredded, they took action and staged a protest in front of the Burbank lot where their former vehicles rested.

Unfortunately, nothing stopped the ultimate destruction of all but one car (which is now sitting idle in a vehicle museum) and you just have to wonder—do the car companies really think the engineers alive today couldn't replicate that successful prototype without a living, breathing example in front of them?

Ridiculous.