SAUSAGE PARTY: Clean-up on Aisle Five

Directors: Greg Tiernan, Conrad Vernon
Writers: Kyle Hunter, Ariel Shaffir, Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg, Jonah Hill
Cast: Seth Rogen, Kristen Wiig, Michael Cera, Edward Norton, David Krumholtz, Salma Hayek, Nick Kroll, Jonah Hill, Bill Hader, James Franco, Paul Rudd
Runtime: 89 mins.
2016

Sausage Party is blatant, and Sausage Party is naughty. Sausage Party is both a coming of age story, and a story about community upheaval. Sausage Party thinks it's being really deep, but Sausage Party doesn't really think it's being deep.

Sausage Party is an animated film about a sentient hot dog named Frank.

The idea is that all the food at the grocery store is actually alive, even though we're not aware of it. This is actually explored more thoroughly than your typical "talking ______s in a world of humans" film, with the camera occasionally shifting to the humans' drab normal perspective. This is one of the many ways in which Sausage Party uses its form to strong effect. Another is the base pleasure of getting to see all this weird grocery food anthropomorphized in the most juvenile way possible. These characterizations are as a rule tied in with some crass joke about class, race, sexuality, religion, or gender. We'll get into that more later.

Frank (Seth Rogen) wants what any hot dog wants--to get taken to the Great Beyond by the gods (shoppers) and to be inserted into the love of his life, a hot dog bun named Brenda (Kristen Wiig), for some sweet sweet lovin'. Contact before that time is forbidden, because according to grocery store lore, the gods would find that to be impure, and you'd miss your chance at the afterlife. So Frank and Brenda stay in their packages, yearning for that fateful day. However, through a needlessly complicated series of events, Frank and Brenda find themselves out of their packages far away from their aisle, and Frank comes to be armed with the knowledge that the afterlife is not what foodkind thought it was.

KUBO AND THE TWO STRINGS: Guitar Hero

Director: Travis Knight
Writers: Marc Haimes, Chris Butler, Shannon Tindle
Cast: Art Parkinson, Charlize Theron, Matthew McConaughey, Ralph Fiennes, Rooney Mara, George Takei
Runtime: 101 mins.
2016

Kubo and the Two Strings is both an action blockbuster and an animated children's movie, yet it succeeds where those genres typically fail: It is a tight, well-crafted dramatic narrative that amounts to something more thematically substantial than the rote "be yourself" morality of most youth entertainment. In fact, the film is in many ways a direct refutation of the individual-obsessed attitude of the Disney/Dreamworks brand of Western animation. Kubo is the protagonist and the hero, but his hero's journey involves no refusal of the call. He is never anything but kind and caring to his community of friends and family. His ultimate triumph comes not from a sudden discovery of inner strength, but from connection with his predecessors and peace with his legacy.

Certainly it can be said that Kubo plays heavily with cliches. His home destroyed, he sets out in search of three mystical items of warfare, collecting a crew of colorful companions along the way. Yet in the telling of the story, these cliches barely register because 1) They are always earnestly in service of the story rather than propping it up as a crutch, and 2) The true value of Kubo lies in its craftsmanship.

I don't believe I've seen a more beautiful film this year. Since Coraline, studio Laika has cemented itself as the last bastion of stop animation in the mainstream contemporary landscape. Here they've honed their craft and made a film so gorgeous that it also functions as a compelling argument for the survival of the medium.* From the opening scene of a minuscule boat set against the backdrop of an ocean in turmoil, it is clear that Laika is committed to filling every frame with life, beauty, and wonder.

*Though not fiscally. Nobody goes to see these movies. Each of Laika's films since Coraline has made less than their budget in the domestic market. It's likely that the only reason the studio hasn't folded is that it's bankrolled by a Nike billionaire as a passion project for his son (Laika studio head and director of this film Travis Knight).

DON'T THINK TWICE: You Only Laugh Once

Director: Mike Birbiglia
Writer: Mike Birbiglia
Cast: Keegan-Michael Key, Gillian Jacobs, Mike Birbiglia, Kate Micucci, Chris Gethard, Tami Sagher
Runtime: 92 mins.
2016

I expected Don't Think Twice to be a goofy little movie. It's a film about improv, so I anticipated a lot of funny jokes and a fair amount of charisma. What I did not expect was for this film to be emotionally devastating.

The story follows six comedians who together make up a successful improv troupe called The Commune. Unfortunately, their venue is closing down, so The Commune as they know it will either have to adapt or die. This means something different to each of the characters, as they all have their own personal drama to contend with. Jack (Keegan Michael-Key) is driven to transcend the improv community by becoming a member of Weekend Live, a transitional process which alienates him from his friends. Sam (Gillian Jacobs) has the potential to be on the same trajectory as Jack, whom she has been dating for a while, but she is in danger of squandering that potential because she feels uncertain about her path. Miles (Mike Birbiglia), on the other hand, does not have that same potential, and refuses to admit it to himself despite continuous failed attempts to rise up in the comedy world. Bill (Chris Gethard) is mourning the death of his father and trying to find renewed meaning in life. Allison (Kate Micucci) dreams of publishing graphic novels, but fears appraisal of her work. And Lindsay (Tami Sagher), whose wealthy parents preclude her from ever having to work a real job, is in a weed-scented rut.

Alone, any one of these narratives would make for a functional if not original film about artistic aspirations. Birbiglia is careful about showing us, sometimes subtly and sometimes not, every step of these characters' journeys, and every arc is dramatically sound. But the real beauty of the film comes from the intertwining of these arcs. Everyone's personal drama feeds back into the group dynamic and significantly affects the way that The Commune, the seventh character, develops. With each character's personal baggage influencing the trajectory of the group, it almost feels like a low-stakes Avengers movie, except that Don't Think Twice is so personal and earnest that the stakes feel far higher than any superhero shenanigans.

LIGHTS OUT: The Abyss Gazes Also Into You

Director: David F. Sandberg
Writer: Eric Heisserer
Cast: Teresa Palmer, Gabriel Bateman, Maria Bello, Alexander DiPersia, Alicia Vela-Bailey
Runtime: 81 mins.
2016

Horror is trendy. Like Hollywood blockbusters, the horror genre goes through phases of acute innovation, aggressive imitation, and creative devastation. Halloween cemented the formula for the golden age of the slasher film. Saw trailblazed the torture porn genre of the 00's. Now horror in the 10's seems to be congealing around the brainy indie horror prospects offered by Jennifer Kent's 2014 film The Babadook. These films are low budget but high concept, often with a heavy thematic underpinning that has to do with Serious Issues.

As yet, Lights Out might be the most unabashed benefactor of the model set down by The Babadook. Both are stories about children struggling with the specter of their mothers' chronic depression, as made manifest by a horrible shadow creature infiltrating their home. Despite the clear similarities, the experience of watching Lights Out feels visually and structurally different enough to avoid being branded an out and out copycat. Unfortunately, where the films do overlap, Lights Out is worse in every way.

The protagonist of the film is pretty girl Rebecca (Teresa Palmer). We are introduced to her in a cutesy dialogue exchange with her sort-of boyfriend, pretty boy Bret (Alexander DiPersia). From there, these two characters get embroiled in the plight of Rebecca's little brother, Martin (Gabriel Bateman), who has been dealing with a mother who speaks to the darkness as if someone is speaking back. But Rebecca has discovered that someone really is there: a predatory silhouette named Diana (Alicia Vela-Bailey). She is a visible, physical threat in the darkness, but disappears entirely when exposed to any light source. Rebecca soon learns that her family will never be safe from Diana unless they confront the problem head on. These are the basic building blocks for our drama.

THE NICE GUYS: Black Is the New Black

Director: Shane Black
Writers: Shane Black, Anthony Bagarozzi
Cast: Russell Crowe, Ryan Gosling, Angourie Rice, Matt Bomer, Margaret Qualley
Runtime: 116 mins.
2016

The worst thing I can say about The Nice Guys is that it's no Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, writer/director Shane Black's other neo-noir comedy. That film, one of my favorite meta-narrative movies, may upstage Black's latest directorial effort, but by any other reasonable metric The Nice Guys is a rousing success.

Beginning with a hauntingly beautiful scene of a child discovering a dead porn star in the wreckage of a mangled car, The Nice Guys firmly establishes itself in the seventies. Our heroes are Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe), a bruiser for hire who gets embroiled in detective work despite his better judgment, and Holland March (Ryan Gosling), an inept P.I. who mostly coasts by on alcohol and exploiting the elderly. The other major player is Holly March (Angourie Rice), Holland's hypercompetent daughter, only the most recent in the storied line of child actors in Shane Black action movies who manage not to be annoying at all, but are in fact quite charming. I'm going to cut off the plot summary hardly before it's even started, as I cannot remember much about the twisty narrative details. Though in this case, that's no detriment; the joy of The Nice Guys has little to do with its plot intrigue, instead putting all the eggs in the bounteous basket of how delightful Crowe and Gosling are to watch bounce off each other for an hour and a half.

They both bring their A+ game. Between this and Noah, it's great to see Crowe in the midst of a career resurgence. He's cribbing from John Goodman here, playing Healy as paunchy but vivacious. Plus, Crowe is capable of selling the hell out of the movie's isolated moments of tragedy. Meanwhile, I have been a Gosling advocate for years (Drive, Only God Forgives, Crazy, Stupid, Love, Half Nelson, Lars and the Real Girl, etc. etc.), but he manages to shift into a new tier of talent in The Nice Guys, at least comedically. His physical comedy is far more committed than anything we could reasonably expect from a Hollywood A-lister. Black likes to beat the hell out of his characters, and Gosling sells every painful mishap.

All things considered, The Nice Guys is an exemplary if somewhat traditional noir. It may not transcend its own structure like the aforementioned Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, but The Nice Guys sees a cavalcade of tremendous talents at the top of their game, knocking it out of the park as if it were routine to do so.

3.5 / 5  BLOBS

HIGH-RISE: Jump Cuts

Director: Ben Wheatley
Writer: Amy Jump
Cast: Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Sienna Miller, Luke Evans, Elisabeth Moss, James Purefoy
Runtime: 119 mins.
2016

I've never seen a movie edited like High-Rise. It's a 1970's period piece follows the occupants of a towering apartment complex. The narrative focuses in particular on neurophysiologist Laing (Tom Hiddleston). The socially stratified high-rise--richer up top, poorer at the bottom--provides all necessary amenities to its occupants, including food, drink, schooling, and entertainment. One would never need to leave the high-rise if one were so inclined, and that is exactly what happens. Its occupants are sequestered there by their own vague need to stick around, even after the parties turn sour, the rich begin siphoning resources from the poor, and the social system careens into violent anarchy.

More than anything High-Rise reminds me of the early Cronenberg film Shivers. The reality of this world is just off-kilter enough to be especially disturbing and surreal. Characters make choices that they only seem to be loosely in control of, and everybody tacitly refuses to acknowledge the weirdness cropping up around them.

What truly defines this film's unique tone, though, is the way the editing slips in and out of scenes like a moray eel. A great deal of High-Rise is told in montage, buoyed by Clint Mansell's brilliant score.* This formal choice emphasizes the passage of time and thrusts the viewer into a dreamlike state. We get snippets of clips that can more or less fit into our conception of the plot, but large chunks of these montages feel unmoored from reality. Deprived of context and set to music, even everyday moments, like forgetting something and turning around to retrieve it, seem uncanny and bizarre. Then there are clips of Laing dancing down a hallway with what appear to be five stewardesses dressed in red, and you have no idea what you are watching.

*No question, in the running for best soundtrack of 2016. Unsurprising coming from Mansell, whose work on Moon was the first film score I ever loved.

These alienating storytelling methods do become exhausting after a while, but they never lose their bite. High-Rise may be to on-the-nose to achieve the allegorical insight it's shooting for, but the result is a treat of crackling madness nonetheless. Watching High-Rise is like stepping into a Normal Rockwell painting that slowly morphs into a Dali. Director Ben Wheatley and writer/co-editor Amy Jump paste together a uniquely offputting experience from a great many familiar elements, which is one of the prime gifts of art: seeing old things in a new way.

3 / 5  BLOBS

JASON BOURNE: ReTreadstone

Director: Paul Greengrass
Writers: Paul Greengrass, Christopher Rouse
Cast: Matt Damon, Tommy Lee Jones, Alicia Vikander, Vincent Cassel, Julia Stiles, Riz Ahmed, Ato Essandoh
Runtime: 123 mins.
2016

You were the best of friends with this guy. Over the course of the half-decade-plus when you were in direct contact with him, he always proved a reliable companion, and your bond only grew stronger as you shared new experiences over the years. Eventually you had to part ways. You both knew that no matter how much you intended to keep in touch with each other, life was dragging both of you down separate paths--and that was for the best! You revisited his memory every so often, remembered the good times, but that's it. You've met people like him since, but without the exact balance of charisma and savvy that made him special. You've moved on.

But lo and behold, you'll be in the same area as each other this summer, so of course you plan a visit. You know it won't be like it was, but at the very least you expect to fall into some old nostalgic patterns that would not be sustainable long term, but are gratifying, pleasant, and perhaps even healthy in the moment. Although you have other things more prominent on your mind, you look forward to this meeting. Then you see him, and he's kind of... a shell of his former self. In the intervening years, life has run your old friend ragged. His signature personality quirks are muted to the point of banality, and all of his mediocre traits have spread and taken over. The worst thing that could have happened to this kind of friend has happened. He has become dull.

Such is the experience of watching Jason Bourne, most recent in Hollywood's current Sisyphean trend of perpetual reboots. Having earned the ill will of fans with their 2012 Jeremy Renner-helmed sequel The Bourne Legacy, Universal has desperately scrambled to get the band back together. In this case the band consists of Matt Damon as Jason Bourne, Paul Greengrass directing, John Powell* scoring, and Christopher Rouse editing (plus picking up a screenwriting credit this time), among others. One must be dubious of naked cash grab reboots, but that's a lot of talent. Besides, a movie like this can survive a less than great reboot so long as it delivers on the basic promises of the series in a somewhat satisfying way.

*As best I can tell, Powell is the only individual who contributes really good work to this film.

THE NEON DEMON: Skin Deep

Director: Nicolas Winding Refn
Writers: Nicolas Winding Refn, Mary Laws, Polly Stenham
Cast: Elle Fanning, Jena Malone, Bella Heathcote, Abbey Lee, Keanu Reeves, Karl Glusman, Desmond Harrington, Christina Hendricks
Runtime: 118 mins.
2016

Nicolas Winding Refn broke into mainstream consciousness with 2011's Drive, the Ryan Gosling action vehicle. If you've never seen Drive, the phrase "Ryan Gosling action vehicle" probably conjures all sorts of expectations, few of which would sync up with the experience of watching Drive. Audiences were so distraught, in fact, that one Michigan woman brought a class action lawsuit against the film's distributor for releasing a deliberately misleading trailer, as the end product bore little resemblance to something in the vein of The Fast and the Furious. The critics, meanwhile, by and large heralded Drive as a brooding thriller, and a fascinating deconstruction of the masculine hero figure.

Two years later, Refn released Only God Forgives, and this time neither audiences nor critics were on board. Sitting at a 41% on Rotten Tomatoes, some excoriated the film for being laborious and impenetrable, while some lambasted it for being too on the nose. For my part, Only God Forgives was one of my favorite movies of 2013. It went even deeper down the rabbit hole of deconstructing Ryan Gosling's persona as part of its critique of the violence and perversion inherent in toxic masculinity. The central visual motif of the film is that of the hand: unclenched in supplication, clenched in violence. This commentary develops in glacier-slow sequences underpinned by Cliff Martinez's infectious score.

So it is to my absolute pleasure, and the distress of many others, that The Neon Demon is the perfect counterpart film to Only God Forgives. Whereas the latter follows violent gangs and the sex trade in Thailand to immerse us in toxic masculine culture, the former thrusts us into the Los Angeles modeling scene in order to put a lens on toxic femininity. The Neon Demon is Only God Forgives refracted through the prism of gender.

THE CONJURING 2: They Ain't 'Fraid of No Ghosts

Director: James Wan
Writers: Carey Hayes, Chad Hayes, James Wan, David Leslie Johnson
Cast: Vera Farmiga, Patrick Wilson, Madison Wolfe, Frances O'Connor, Lauren Esposito, Benjamin Haigh, Patrick McAuley
Runtime: 134 mins.
2016

There are many things I love about the freshly franchised Conjuring movies. Foremost among them is the opening title card that features some ponderous purple prose detailing the "true" nature of this story, scrolling up the screen in enormous spidery yellow text, accompanied by music of ill portent. If the events as portrayed were even vaguely "true," this film would likely be in bad taste, but luckily the movie has no compunctions about letting us know early and often that there is not a whiff of accuracy to what you're seeing onscreen. The film uses its "based on actual events" as schlocky window dressing, a mood-setting gesture no more accurate than "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." This is to our tremendous advantage; instead of making some self-serious loosely-biographical slog, we have been treated to a couple of the most delightfully scary haunted house stories to ever grace the genre.

Wan's sequel kicks off with a statement of intent. Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) Warren are in the midst of investigating the haunting at Amityville, one of the most heavily mined source materials in paranormal history. Lorraine goes on a little spirit walk that involves stepping into the shoes of the possessed killer, at which point she is confronted with a gruesome premonition about the future of her and her husband. This is not one of the better scenes of the film, but setting the opening stinger in Amityville effectively establishes two important points: 1) Wan is not afraid to upstage his horror-making brethren, and 2) This particular Conjuring chapter will have far more of a focus on the ghostbusting duo than the last.

THE LOBSTER: Love in the Time of Anomie

Director: Yorgos Lanthimos
Writers: Yorgos Lanthimos, Efthymis Filippou
Cast: Colin Farrell, Rachel Weisz, Lea Seydoux, John C. Reilly, Ben Whishaw, Jessica Barden, Ariane Labed, Angeliki Papoulia
Runtime: 119 mins.
2016

The Lobster follows protagonist David (Colin Farrell) through his stay at The Hotel, a resort with one central purpose: to help its tenants find love and stable relationships with each other. Those who fail to find a partner by the end of their stay will be turned into an animal of their choosing. Life at the resort is rigorously structured, from the No Masturbation rule, to the strict meal and dance times, to the staged presentations about the superiority of couplehood, to the daily morning routine that involves a maid grinding on the male tenants' laps until they become hard--but not a moment longer. Everything about the place is meant to maximize the romantic desire and viability of its occupants; everything except the hunting of the Loners, that is.

Every day the tenants get on a bus with tranquilizer rifles in hand and head into the woods to hunt radicals who have defected from The Hotel and chosen an aggressively single lifestyle together. If you capture a Loner, one day is added to the duration of your stay. At first David participates clumsily in the hunt, but as his time runs out his relationship with the Loners becomes more complex.

If you were to go into The Lobster expecting some sort of sci-fi thriller, you would be mistaken. If you were to go in expecting a romantic comedy of sorts, you would also be mistaken. In fact, if you were to go into this movie expecting anything in particular, there's a significant chance of you walking away feeling frustrated or unsatisfied. The Lobster is so singular in its presentation that it doesn't fit into any boxes we typically stuff movies into. The closest comparison I can draw is that it is something like an extremely perverse version of a Wes Anderson movie, but even that fails at capturing what The Lobster is up to.