rewatched Stop Making Sense (Jonathan Demme, 1984): 5/5

The ne plus ultra of concert films due to a combination of Demme’s approach to this kind of doc (no backstage footage or preshow b-roll), Jordan Cronenweth’s cinematography (he also shot Blade Runner) and Lisa Day’s cutting (she also cut Eddie Murphy: Raw). And of course it’s also the band. Their infectious joy and energy and the way they interact with the other musicians (all of whom are Black which makes this film feel like a perfect analogy for the dialectic of American popular music). Film’s ability to capture lightning in a bottle, especially when the live performance and the film’s style are in perfect sync as with this film, is something that makes me love this medium more and more as I grow older. It’s the only Time Machine we’ll ever have.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (40 minutes) (Wes Anderson, 2023): 4/5

My favorite Wes since Fantastic Mr. Fox. (Probably because this was my favorite Roald Dahl story growing up.) Delightful, charming, and very fun.

Bottoms (Emma Seligman, 2023): 3/5

A soft 3. Shiva Baby, Emma Seligman's directorial debut was a bona fide indie hit a couple of years ago. Her follow-up is another collaboration with co-writer/actress Rachel Sennott, also featuring Ayo Edebiri (The Bear) and... [checks notes] retired NFL running back Marshawn Lynch? This thing operates at such a specific and bizarre frequency. Put Heathers and Superbad in a blender, add a dash of Fight Club, and then make the vast majority of the characters female and queer - that's the pitch. Moderately funny and genuinely empowering.

Strays (Josh Greenbaum, 2023): 1.5/5

Raunchy comedy where the whole joke is dogs fucking, dogs swearing and dogs shitting. Feels like it was written by 12 year olds who just learned about swear words.

No One Will Save You (Brian Duffield, 2023): 2.5/5

Signs is better.

The Ox Bow Incident (William Wellman, 1943): 4/5

Like a retroactive westernized blend of 12 Angry Men and Paths of Glory: a tight-lipped examination of capital punishment, the clarity of justice, the morality of man, and the misuse of systematic power—all in just 75 minutes, too!

Main reservation is how the film takes an unnecessarily melodramatic curve near the end—I don’t have much of a problem with the idea wanting to be conveyed by the dead man’s letter to his wife, but it seems uncompromisingly forthright; is that really what a dying man would write to his wife? It seemed like every other line was genuine and heartfelt, and the in-between ones served only a blunt condemnation to the men, as if he knew it’d eventually get read aloud. Also kind of strange how literally nothing becomes of Gil’s past relationship and eventually re-encounter with Rose, aside from an underhanded warning from her new husband, which seems entirely superfluous but is entertaining nevertheless. The Ox-Bow Incident is pretty marvelous in all other aspects, though, from its confident plodding to the exasperated moral grayness. Most striking shot in the entire movie comes just after the three men are hanged from a tree. We don’t see the act itself—we see everything that happens around it, though, and as the cavalry rides away and the camera pans across, the backlit sunlight casts three silhouettes onto the ground of their lifeless bodies just dangling in the air. Breathtaking.

The Woman in the Window (Fritz Lang, 1944): 3.5/5

If you’re Fritz Lang, you’re hardly in need of a rehearsal run in a genre you more or less invented. But if you do take a practice lap, it’s little surprise it comes out as solidly competent as The Woman in the Window.

Like looking into the reflection in a pane of glass, “Window” mirrors a Lang film that would release just one year after it; Scarlet Street. Also starring Edward G. Robinson. And Joan Bennett. And Dan Duryea. In a noir-worthy twist, however, the two films do have different teams of writers.

While “Window” stands on its own as a tight and competent entry in Lang’s filmography, it’s difficult to see it in solo, out of “Scarlet’s” shadow. The setup for each work is remarkably similar; an impotent man falls for a mysterious woman out of his league, and in so doing, trips into a plot of murder and intrigue.

With the roster of talent involved, it’s hard to put up an objection to watching Robinson and Bennett stretch their already bountiful capacities before unleashing them at full strength in “Scarlet.” Though, “Window” really does feel like seeing the two cold read material they would make a meal out of in short order. The pair in “Window” seem somewhat stilted; appearing to still be chewing on the dry bone, before getting to the juiciest aspects of their parts.

Lang, too, is more than aptly competent in his noir domain with “Window,” keeping its somewhat unbelievable prospect in tangible motion throughout. But it’s only in a cheap gag in the film’s closing moments that he somewhat accidentally finds himself in the nightmarish visual antics that make “Scarlet” so instantly iconic.

American Dharma (Errol Morris, 2018): 3/5

First, I still prefer my Errol Morris joints to be about non-famous and non-political subjects, rather than his American villains series. Second, I cannot recommend this unless you’re ready to relive huge chunks of the 2016 presidential campaign.

"He [Morris] does his subject an ill-advised service in glamorizing his apocalyptic tendencies; he ends the film with the set in flames [...] Bannon emerges terrifyingly and yet in a way his admirers will probably love" - Sight & Sound

I think this review misses the point in two ways. On the more obvious level, Morris is not glamorizing Bannon. His camera's view of Bannon is, throughout the film, doom-laden. The score, the burning flags, the Wellesian low angles all are geared towards presenting this man as the Devil he shamelessly professes to admire. On the second front, his admirers will view the film in whatever light they want to because, as the film shows throughout, the likes of Bannon and his lot will see what they want to because that's the nature of interpretation. He consistently reinterprets the films discussed herein to meet his own worldview and 'American Dharma' clearly highlights that hypocrisy.

The most illuminating part of American Dharma is when Steve Bannon is discussing the economics of digital currency in video games. He goes on a lengthy discursive lecture about Dave the overweight office worker and his more illustrious digital life in some MMORPG, contrasting his sad death and small funeral with the glorious send off he would receive in the game (funeral pyre, thousands of attendants). His conceit is that that virtual life is just as valid and as real, more desired, more valid, even. This belief profoundly underscores the entirety of Steve Bannon's worldview.

Anyway, one hopes that the enduring cultural significance of this doc will be nil, but only time will tell whether the musings of Bannon are a preamble to something worse, or merely the cruel reactionary fantasies of a pathetic, self-styled Mephistopheles.

Talk to Me ( Michael and Danny Philippou, 2023): 2/5

Or, Talk to the Hand.

Underwhelming with the supposed ‘scariest film of the year’ tag. Perfunctory chills, emotionally unimpactful, too predictable, unremarkable in form. Very basic possession horror film that has very little about it to make it stand out from others of its kind. I’d rather have been watching The Exorcist or Hereditary.

Thief (Michael Mann, 1981): 3/5

Mann shows up in his feature debut pretty fully formed with a film that owes a debt to Hawks and Peckinpah, but his style is instantly recognizable to anyone who has seen Heat. And as a parable about old school Chicagoan labor pushing back on 1980s corporatization, it works. The depiction of the police as nothing more than another corporatized goon squad out to screw the working man is beautifully of its time and has aged nicely.

Theater Camp (Molly Gordon, Nick Lieberman, 2023): 2.5/5

Sprightly and chucklesome. (An afterschool program called Chekhov for Children of Divorce is a very good joke!) For all of its low key charm, Theatre Camp is a little too thin to sustain interest. The mockumentary style is famously hit or miss and this is no exception. When it works this strings together a few chortles and has some genuine heart but just as often, the humor falls a little flat for me. Love and respect to everyone who this was for. I am not one of them. And that’s okay!

Shortcomings (Randall Park, 2023): 2.5/5

If I had a nickel for every time Stephanie Hsu stars in an 2023 Asian-themed comedy, in which she plays a successful actress, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

And if I had a nickel for every time Hsu, Sherry Cola, Timothy Simons and Ronny Chieng star in a 2023 Asian-themed comedy, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

Anyway, a couple of snickers here and there in a misguided character study that never really justifies its existence outside of a few snide observations and surface-level commentary. Definitely not a terrible debut from Park, because there's a heart beating underneath and you can tell he's passionate, but the cynicism lying underneath every motivation didn't really resonate with me. Pretty much the definition of a Sundance debut.

Birth/Rebirth (Laura Moss, 2023): 2.5/5

It’s labeled as horror, don’t know that I’d go there. Marin Ireland is so fucking good though. It’s a slow burn and like all slow burns, your mileage will vary.

Borderline (Rebbie Ratner, 2016): 3/5

Lmao at that one part where the main subject, Regina, joined a gay volleyball team called Volley Parton to meet other women and ended up surrounded by gay guys. A doc about BPD, stigmas, and the volatile nature of it all.

Rings (F. Javier Gutierrez, 2017): 1/5

"let's get the guy from The Big Bang Theory to read the wikipedia plot description of the american remake for an hour and a half"

― someone, somewhere, apparently

The Last Voyage of the Demeter (Andre Ovredal, 2023): 1/5

Bland and basic, lacks anything approaching tension. It putters along with no rhythm or pace to speak of. It’s almost an achievement to create a dracula movie in which the count himself has absolutely no presence whatsoever. Also, if you start a movie by telling everyone how it ends, you better make the journey worth it. They didn't.

My Scientology Movie (John Dower, 2015): 2.5/5

Theroux must have been bummed when GOING CLEAR came out, as it renders the bulk of the first half of this film a looooong slog of glossing over lightly what we already know in copious detail. Some nice tension in the second half, and Paz de la Huerta's cameo is brilliant. Kind of all over the place in structure but it's worth it to see the reenactments near the end, especially the scene where fake David Miscavage and fake Tom Cruise play backgammon.

Henry Fool (Hal Hartley, 1997): 2.5/5

Quirky, cryptic, and further proof that Hal Hartley is not for me, despite the immense talent brought to the table for this one (Urbaniak, Posey and Corrigan absurd crossover). Feels like the kinda movie that would be parodied in an adult animated sitcom as a joke about artsy indie dramas.

Anais in Love (Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet, 2021): 3/5

Call it The 2nd Worst Person in the World. Another story of an indecisive young woman stumbling through adult responsibilities while falling in and out of love. For her first feature, director Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet assuredly keeps the tone gentle, even for one character’s cancer-relapse subplot. At times, it all feels lighter than air, for better or worse.

The highlight is Valeria Bruni Tedeschi. Always a welcome presence, she plays the object of Anais’ obsessive desire with intelligence, sensuality, and a mature confidence. The film brightens whenever she’s on screen, which is often after the first act. The movie is officially about Anais’ sentimental education, but it’s her teacher that commands the attention.

A League of Their Own (Penny Marshall, 1992): 3/5

Corny underdog sports saga as pop feminist praxis in tribute to the praxes of a half-century earlier. Receives strength from its wide comic ensemble—all these women (and a few men) bitching and bonding and scrapping and sliding into home. Lori Petty has her toothy grin and firecracker energy; Geena Davis is taller, slower to move, performing as if she doesn't need you to watch, but is benevolent enough to allow it. Each actress burns with confidence; they clash through the simple act of sharing the frame. That's a solid foundation for what's ultimately an old-fashioned, bittersweet melodrama.

Swordfish (Dominic Sena, 2001): 2/5

I guess I am morbidly fascinated by the post Matrix trash-core “hacker rave AOL daddy aesthetic” of the late 90s/early 2000s. I also am fascinated by shitty John Travolta performances. Stunt work is varied - there's a minute long sequence of several characters falling down a hill that looks awful but the bus chase at the end is admittedly impressive. Cheadle and Berry are wasted in thankless roles and everyone recites the 'stock hacker dialogue' the same way a person may read the ingredients off a cereal box. It's enjoyable enough in a 'what on earth am I watching' way as the tone shifts between family drama, car chases, lengthy discussions about terrorism and inept attempts to lean on the fourth wall. Sadly, there's an unpleasant undercurrent of misogyny throughout which puts a damper on the general enjoyment.