THE SEAGULL: A Man Chanced to Pass That Way and Destroyed It out of Idleness

Director: Michael Mayer
Cast: Elisabeth Moss, Saoirse Ronan, Corey Stoll, Annette Bening, Brian Dennehy, Michael Zegen, Mare Winningham, Glenn Fleshler, Jon Tenney, Billy Howle
Runtime: 98 mins.
2018

When you take it upon yourself to adapt a classic work of the stage, especially one from the revolutionary body of work of Anton Chekhov, especially one that is directly conversant with themes of new theatrical forms versus old ways of thinking, you had better damn well have a salient reason for the adaptation. Michael Mayer's The Seagull does not clear that bar. As far as I can tell, this film has no reason to exist whatsoever. It may be that The Seagull is inherently uncinematic, what with its dense text and discernible lack of onstage "action." That doesn't excuse Mayer's adaptation from being mired in the most blasé choices imaginable.

The Seagull--as I understand it--is a deep dive existential excavation of an artistically inclined Russian family, as well as those who have found themselves attached to the family unit. This heavy meditation on malcontentedness is seen askance through seemingly casual dialogue and punctuated by jet black comedy. The Seagull--as Mayer understands it--is a work of transparent awards-seeking frivolity in which the dialogue carries little impact beyond an excuse for its hyperqualified cast to Act.

WON'T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?: Love Thy Neighbor

Director: Morgan Neville
Runtime: 94 mins.
2018

The letdown of Won't You Be My Neighbor? is that it is mediocre in every facet of its construction.

The structure of the film is aggressively typical. We are given a general gloss of Fred Rogers, from the beginning of his career until his death. This is accomplished with little imagination by a balance of archival footage and interviews with those who knew him. Rarely do the interviews reveal anything particularly interesting--they function to reaffirm the history as presented.

ISLE OF DOGS: Master Craftsman

Director: Wes Anderson
Writers: Wes Anderson, Roman Coppola, Jason Schwartzman, Kunichi Nomura
Cast: Bryan Cranston, Koyu Rankin, Edward Norton, Bob Balaban, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, Kunichi Nomura, Akira Takayama, Greta Gerwig, Frances McDormand, Akira Ito, Scarlett Johansson, Harvey Keitel, F. Murray Abraham, Yoko Ono, Tilda Swinton, Ken Watanabe, Liev Schreiber, Courtney B. Vance
Runtime: 101 mins.
2018

There is great joy to be found in watching Isle of Dogs. The film crackles with enthusiasm about its subject matter. Those who have even a passing appreciation for dogs, Japanese culture, or stop motion animation will encounter a narrative that satisfyingly incorporates those elements into an emotional story well-told. But there is also the more abstract joy of watching a master working passionately at their craft.

This is the second stop motion film by Wes Anderson, an obvious pairing with a common ground in fussy precision. It's exciting to see how Anderson has grown as a filmmaker since Fantastic Mr. Fox. This observation is not meant to cast aspersions on that film, which is brilliant in its own right. Fantastic Mr. Fox's comparative two-dimensionality fit well with the storybook sensibilities of the narrative.

AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR - The Stones on This Guy

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Directors: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo
Writers: Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely
Cast: Josh Brolin, Robert Downey Jr., Chris Hemsworth, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Don Cheadle, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Holland, Chadwick Boseman, Zoe Saldana, Karen Gillan, Tom Hiddleston, Paul Bettany, Elizabeth Olsen, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Idris Elba, Danai Gurira, Peter Dinklage, Benedict Wong, Pom Klementieff, Dave Bautista, Vin Diesel, Bradley Cooper, Gwyneth Paltrow, Benicio Del Toro, Chris Pratt, Carrie Coon
Runtime: 149 mins.
2018

Infinity War stands as the new opening weekend box office growth record holder with around $250 million, an unprecedented cultural moment that demonstrates without doubt that Disney and Marvel are still the masters of pop mythology. The MCU remains the only shared universe with any real dignity, and not for lack of competitors. Despite the common recurring criticisms and the ceaseless cries that superheroes are on the way out, the MCU has stayed in the general public's good graces.

To their credit, Kevin Feige and company have not settled into complacency. Each subsequent Marvel movie has gotten marginally broader in its scope, and quite a bit stranger in its content. The cross-film universe has bent and warped to include deposed gods, talking raccoons, and interdimensional sorcerers in its ranks. The MCU has embraced growth of imagination, with each new entry expanding the realm of what weirdness is possible. In keeping with this trend, Infinity War does indeed represent something new for these movies. Not only does it attempt to bring dozens of characters together into an enormous tapestry, but it makes a point of hitting harder than any of its predecessors.

Yes, this is the much ballyhooed entry in the MCU which is supposed to have Real Consequences. The tone is dark, dire, and relentless. From the get go, Infinity War is committed to plowing through its story with an unbearable sense of fatalism. This pacing, Josh Brolin's coolly menacing performance, and the immediately-spiking MCU death count all combine to make Infinity War the first MCU movie that has a real air of suspense about it. These movies have always been first and foremost breezy affairs, but there is a whiff of mythic consequence to the way Thanos tears through our favorite heroes' lives. I can't help but be impressed with the amount of body horror and aching despair the Russo Brothers packed into this ostensibly four-quadrant crowd-pleaser.

And yet, when one takes true artistic risks, one will inevitably alienate portions of one's audience, and it's pretty clear that nobody was alienated by Infinity War, which has received near universal praise. How is it that such a brash blockbuster could still appeal to so many?

My answer is that Infinity War is a sham of a movie. This becomes clear (SPOILERS AHEAD) the moment Thanos's climactic holocaust dissolves Black Panther. And then Spider-Man. Any traumatic crisis featured in this film will be neatly resolved by the end of next summer. Our favorites will all return for endless franchise entries.

QUASI AT THE QUACKADERO: In the Mouth of Mallardness

It's March, time for Post-Credit Coda's annual tradition of highlighting female directorial voices. The endless sea of dude directors can be disheartening, but diversity means seeking out the voices that you want to hear more of in the world. It's also a surefire way to keep one's perspective from stagnation.

Other Reviews in this Series.

Director: Sally Cruikshank
Writer: Sally Cruikshank
Cast: Sally Cruikshank, Kim Deitch
Runtime: 10 mins.
1975

First take ten minutes to watch this film on youtube.

Animation is one of the most painstakingly difficult artistic mediums to produce. It takes either tremendous resources or tremendous dedication, usually both. There have been more than a few studios and creatives whose career was demolished by an expensive animated flop. Plenty more animation projects have been artistically compromised by the encroaching necessity of cutting corners. The result is a lot of safe, unobjectionable animation. A handful of children's films a year with cookie cutter messaging that fit squarely in the dominant tastes of the time. This makes animation the site of enormous untapped potential.

In 1973, a young animator named Sally Cruikshank graduated from Smith and moved on to the San Francisco Art Institute. While working at a commercial-film company called Snazelle films, its president essentially gave her free rein to work on whatever project she wanted while churning out a commercial here or there. The project she chose spanned two years and gobbled up $6,000 of independently financed money. Cruikshank herself produced every illustration and her then boyfriend Kim Deitch provided the color. They would also voice the two main characters. The result was Quasi at the Quackadero, a ten minute psychedelic comedy about some talking ducks and their day visit to a surreal carnival. To call the film a labor of love would be an understatement.

A WRINKLE IN TIME: You Get a Star, You Get a Star, Everybody Gets a Star

It's March, time for Post-Credit Coda's annual tradition of highlighting female directorial voices. The endless sea of dude directors can be disheartening, but diversity means seeking out the voices that you want to hear more of in the world. It's also a surefire way to keep one's perspective from stagnation.

Other Reviews in this Series.

Director: Ava DuVernay
Writers: Jennifer Lee, Jeff Stockwell
Cast: Storm Reid, Oprah Winfrey, Reese Witherspoon, Mindy Kaling, Levi Miller, Deric McCabe, Chris Pine, Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Zach Galifianakis, Michael Peña
Runtime: 109 mins.
2018

The primary reason A Wrinkle in Time is such a colossal disappointment is that the script makes the least interesting choices at every turn. Agency is stripped from characters and purpose is siphoned out of the universe until all that remains is a vague progression of spectacle loosely bound together by trite, non-specific plot proclamations. Any potentially interesting ideas present in the film are more alluded to and forgotten than actually used to good effect. The narrative offers us intriguing elements, then breezes right on past them. It's an exercise in intellectual and imaginative futility.

It's such a shame because the auspicious elements are there, just for a second, peeking their heads out long enough to indicate what could have been. The film anchors us in the perspective of Meg Murry (Storm Reid), a talented child who has fallen into a social and academic funk ever since her scientist father Mr. Murry (Chris Pine) disappeared five years ago. Little does she know that she is about to go on an interplanetary journey of self-discovery, as her genius younger brother Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe) has made friendly contact with three space witches: beings of pure energy who wish to fight the forces of evil by helping Meg and Charles Wallace find their missing father, who has been held hostage in the far reaches of space.

THE BAD BATCH: It'll Cost You an Arm and a Leg

It's March, time for Post-Credit Coda's annual tradition of highlighting female directorial voices. The endless sea of dude directors can be disheartening, but diversity means seeking out the voices that you want to hear more of in the world. It's also a surefire way to keep one's perspective from stagnation.

Other Reviews in this Series.

Director: Ana Lily Amirpour
Writer: Ana Lily Amirpour
Cast: Suki Waterhouse, Jason Momoa, Jayda Fink, Keanu Reeves, Jim Carrey, Yolonda Ross
Runtime: 118 mins.
2017

The Bad Batch is the second film by Ana Lily Amirpour, who now bears the distinction of being the first repeat director in this series. Two years ago I reviewed her debut, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, which I absolutely adored. Now that her follow-up is out, we can begin speculating about Amirpour's signature voice. And oh boy, does she have a signature voice.

The heroes of Amirpour's films are compromised women. They are furious avengers, power and fury viciously channeled through femininity and flung back at a world that refuses to accept them as they are. They are like femme fatales, if noir were told from their perspective rather than the detective's. They exist in Bad worlds, blasted worlds, but their steely resolve makes them the baddest of the bad. They move through their environment like wraiths, wreathed in silence. Their world is gorgeously framed, a twisted reflection of their tortured inner life. They rarely speak, instead opting to let violence do the talking. Above all else, they are achingly gorgeous, and blisteringly cool. Every aspect of the film bends around their attitude. The camera slinks through its environment, as if coiled to pounce. The shots stretch on into existential oblivion. These are the hallmarks of an Amirpour film.

Oscars Results 2018

Here I am, late to the party. In truth, I had forgotten all about the Oscars until the night they were happening. As such, this post represents both my predictions and my commentary of the results, and you'll have to do your best to trust that I did not fudge the numbers!

My prediction success rate was 63% (15/24), not too bad. In some ways it was a baffling year to predict. Very few of this year's candidates lit my world on fire, but there are certainly gems amongst them.

Below are the results, and some discussion about each category.

Top Ten 2017

Other Top Ten Lists.

With the release of The Disaster Artist came a preponderance of articles heralding The Room as "The Worst Movie Ever Made." That specific phraseology troubles me for several reasons. The first (and least important) is that it's simply not true. Part of the charm of The Room is the baseline competency which serves to highlight its deranged aspects by contrast. It's clear that Wiseau threw a decent amount of money at the thing, and that there were at least a handful of bored but capable professionals working on it. There is an endless wealth of bad cinema out there. Using any criteria you could think of, I guarantee I could find a "worse" movie than The Room. It's arguably the most famous bad movie ever made, but it is not the worst.

The second thing I take issue with is our culture's continued insistence on extremes, binaries, polemics. Something is either good or evil, smart or dumb, best or worst. "The Room: One of the Many Bad Movies Ever Made" just isn't as eye-catching a title. Clickbait preys upon the easily beguiled. The sooner we can move toward a place of nuance and admit that things can be many-layered and multifaceted rather than singular and objective, the sooner we can properly converse with each other.

Finally, I hate that calling The Room the worst movie ever made is totally in violation of the spirit of the thing. The dopamine rush that comes with being a part of a consensus feels good, but we shouldn't be watching bad movies to fit in. Everyone's favorite movie, favorite bad movie, and least favorite movie should all be deeply personal, not adherent to some sort of quasi-objective regulating groupthink. Every time someone is ashamed to admit their favorite, or sheepishly refers to their preferred media as "guilty pleasures," we have lost an opportunity for empathy and celebration.

This is why top ten lists are heinous. They are so often used as a tool to exert critical supremacy over the taste of others, either by the author or by a reader. The audience consumes a list and fires back accusations of, "What, no _____???" The author gets defensive and feels the need to tear down other art to legitimate the art that they chose to feature. The cycle repeats.

Top ten lists are bankrupt for the same reason awards shows are bankrupt: It is ultimately absurd to compare different works of art based on an often arbitrary set of standards. The act of wielding one film to cheapen the impact of another is so counterproductive to the reason these lists were created to begin with.

Yet I still make top ten lists for two reasons. When top ten lists are made with openness and love, the year-end proliferation of them functions as a celebration of incredible art. Not only that, but we learn about each other. It reveals a lot about the critic-as-person to see their ten preferred films. It should be invigorating to step into another perspective, not frustrating. Reading a top ten list is a time to open yourself up to new ways of experiencing the world--something that the best movies do better than anything.

The other reason is more selfish. For me, making top ten lists is a lot of fun. There are tough calls to make, sometimes agonizing; it reminds me of the tournaments I used to wage with my favorite action figures. I love them all, but someone needs to come out on top. The act of culling--or to put it more generously, curating--can be engaging the way puzzles are engaging. Putting together a top ten list is a feat of trying to fit each piece into its truest or most aesthetically pleasing place.