CAROL: Les Be Honest

Director: Todd Haynes
Writer: Phyllis Nagy
Cast: Cate Blanchett, Rooney Mara, Kyle Chandler, Sarah Paulson, Jake Lacy, John Magaro
Runtime: 118 mins.
2015

As far as I can tell there are two ways for people to develop empathy: through experience and through stories. For those who lead sheltered existences, sometimes life experience is not a viable option. That's why we need narrative. Stories allow for cultural growth across demographics and situations. Stories shape our worldview, especially if they're artfully constructed and have real heart behind them. As such, I can't imagine how anyone could walk away from Carol without a great deal of empathy for the LGBTQ movement unless they are trapped in a dogma that does not allow them to break free.

Carol follows the romance of two closeted women in the 1950's. Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara) is our initial POV character, a reserved young woman who floats through life acquiescing to things she doesn't have any feelings about. Over the course of the movie our perspective transfers to that of Carol Aird (Cate Blachett), an older woman going through a divorce and entering a custody battle for her daughter. Both of our main characters are stuck in relationships with basically good men who nonetheless find themselves in the role of the oppressor because of the regressive gender norms of the time. One of the many incredible traits of Carol is that it doesn't demonize anybody, not even its villain; the pressure and prominence of social forces is always kept at the forefront.

UP: Just a Piece of Latex in My Eye

Twenty years ago Pixar Animation Studios revolutionized cinema with the first full length completely computer-generated film. Two decades later and Pixar is still one of the most consistently groundbreaking studios in the business. Leading up to the release of their new film The Good Dinosaur, I will be going through Pixar's entire filmography at the rate of two movies a week. As anyone who has watched Up already knows, it is a masterwork in emotional manipulation. And I mean that in the best possible way.

Other Reviews in this Series.

Directors: Pete Docter, Bob Peterson (co-director)
Writers: Pete Docter, Bob Peterson, Tom McCarthy
Cast: Ed Asner, Jordan Nagai, Christopher Plummer, Bob Peterson, John Ratzenberger
Runtime: 96 mins.
2009

Nothing makes me cry. I'm not a tough guy, I've just never had easy access to my emotions. Crying isn't weakness, it's a release valve. One that I'm often envious of. Most of my favorite stories throughout my life have failed to move me to tears. In recent years this has been changing a little bit; as I learn more about movies and the craft that goes into them, it has made me more capable of accessing and understanding the emotions at the center of the story via an intellectual conduit. Maybe that makes me sound like a sociopath, but that's how things are. I have to understand before I can participate.

With that said, I will readily admit that the famous opening montage of Up makes me cry like a fool every single time I watch it. For those not in the know, Up is the story of a curmudgeonly old man who lives alone. The first five or so minutes of the film contain a montage showing his progression through the decades with the love of his life, Ellie. It is one of the most elegant, effectively manipulative feats of emotiontugging that I have ever seen. The story it tells is so simple, as is its montage format. But this sequence of silent glimpses into the lives of this couple--strung along to a tremendously moving Michael Giacchino composition that crops up again and again in the movie, always reminding us of this opening salvo--yanks the rug out from under us so hard, it could almost be considered cruel. Of course, the sequence is not just an exercise in pathos; it also establishes the character of Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) with maximum economy. Thanks to these five minutes, any time Carl is kind of a dick in the movie (which is not uncommon), we can never hate or resent him for it, because we have seen the exact emotional arc that has brought him to this point. Everything he does is out of a bullheaded sense of love, even when his decision making is misinformed.

HER: Artificial Emotional Intelligence

In which I am uncharacteristically honest and sensitive.

Director: Spike Jonze
Writer: Spike Jonze
Cast: Joaquin Phoenix, Scarlett Johansson, Amy Adams, Rooney Mara, Chris Pratt, Olivia Wilde
Runtime: 126 mins.
2013

I try to sound smart on my movie blog. I try to identify and engage with what I deem to be the key aspects of any given movie. I talk about things I know a little bit about, like performance or story. I talk about things I really know nothing about, like sound design or editing or cinematography. I try to be honest. But perhaps more than that I try not to sound stupid or inane.

I do this because I'm afraid of being wrong. That has always been my fear. So I try to make ironclad arguments instead of tossing out a bunch of unsystematic sensory impressions. Sometimes, during the act of watching a movie, I am already formulating what sort of points or narrative I want to craft in a potential future post.

That's probably the right tactic for a movie blog, but it's not the conversation I want to have about Her. The golden rule of criticism should be to approach a piece of art or entertainment on its own terms, and evaluate how successful it is within those parameters. As I was watching Her, it became apparent that the right way to talk about the movie would be to share how it impacted me on a personal level.