RODEO (2022) is a raw, low key, French crime drama about the world of motorcycles. Specifically it’s about one woman, Julia (Julie Ledru, Furies), a.k.a. Unknown, who loves to ride. It just kind of throws us into her life and she’s not big on talking or being vulnerable, so we never really learn much about where she’s coming from other than what can be gleaned by what she’s up to at the moment, or by doing the math from the little details. For example her mom is only mentioned as someone who will call the cops on her if she sees her, her dad only when she lies about him as part of a scam. As she falls into an underworld the movie doesn’t hold our hand explaining what’s going on, but it’s mostly straight forward anyway. They steal motorcycles, fix them up, sell them, ride them. (read the rest of this shit…)
Archive for the ‘Drama’ Category
Rodeo (2022)
Tuesday, February 11th, 2025Here
Tuesday, February 4th, 2025
Hey guys, it’s me, member of a small club of people who enjoy post-2000 Robert Zemeckis, the guy who has gotten carried away with digital technology and always finds something weird to do with it, whether or not it works, and whether or not society approves (which it usually does not). HERE is a movie that would only, maybe could only be made by that person. And that’s what I want to see out of art.
The bigger selling point, to the extent that any effort was made to sell it when it came out last year, is that it’s a FORREST GUMP reunion. It stars Tom Hanks (THE LADYKILLERS) and Robin Wright (HOLLYWOOD VICE SQUAD) and he wrote the screenplay with Eric Roth (YEAR OF THE DRAGON) and obviously the score is by Alan Silvestri (THE DELTA FORCE). Like FORREST GUMP it tells a story that seems to be about American culture at large, because it takes place over a stretch of years with many emblematic incidents touching on moments in history and representing societal changes. But it does this with a very particular gimmick, taken directly from the graphic novel of the same name by Richard McGuire: it’s told from one static camera shot. It spans from the time of dinosaurs to the present, but the camera just sits there in the same spot the whole time.
(Actually, at times it kinda reminded me of ADULT SWIM YULE LOG.) (read the rest of this shit…)
Red Rooms
Tuesday, January 21st, 2025
I watched the 2023 Canadian film RED ROOMS (Les chambres rouges) on Shudder, but come to think of it it’s not exactly a horror movie. It’s kind of more harsh than that. It’ an extremely unsettling character drama, maybe a thriller, about the trial of a man accused of horrific child murders live on webcam. We thankfully don’t have to see any of the violence, but the images created in our mind are worse, described with a true crime bluntness rather than genre flair. I would not say this is a fun movie.
It takes its sweet time rolling out what it will be about, or even what form it will take. One of the first scenes is a long unbroken shot of the judge’s introduction and the opening statements from both sides. It goes on long enough that I genuinely started to think the whole movie would be the trial – a new gimmicky format to put alongside mockumentary, found footage and screen time. A story told through testimony.
That’s not actually what it is, and even before it breaks we can see that the focus is on one of the court room observers, Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy, BOOST). The camera rotates around but keeps coming back to her reactions, and what she’s looking at in the room. Later we learn that she sleeps on the street every morning to get a good place in line, like it’s the first showing of THE PHANTOM MENACE, or a Taylor Swift concert. When reporters try to interview her leaving she shoos them away, though another observer, Clémentine (Laurie Babin, THE LITTLE GIRL WHO WAS TOO FOND OF MATCHES) is happy to tell them about all the conspiracies and injustices against poor Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos, LAND OF THE DEAD), who has kind eyes, she says. (To me he looks like a creep, but I only know him in the context of wearing an orange jumpsuit behind plexiglass examining his fingernails while people accuse him of atrocities.) (read the rest of this shit…)
Rez Ball
Thursday, November 21st, 2024
REZ BALL is a recent sports drama that went straight to Netflix. I wouldn’t normally even know about something like that, but it’s co-written by Sterlin Harjo, creator of one of my favorite TV shows ever, Reservation Dogs (2021-2023). This is a little more along the lines of his indie dramas (I’ve previously reviewed his movies FOUR SHEETS TO THE WIND and MEKKO).
The director is Sydney Freeland, who set it in her home state of New Mexico (Harjo’s are usually in Oklahoma). Like Harjo, she established herself with a drama at the Sundance Film Festival (DRUNKTOWN’S FINEST in 2014). Since then she’s directed lots of TV, including two episodes of Reservation Dogs and four of Echo.
It’s a high-school-basketball-team-comeback story, and narratively doesn’t deviate much from what you expect. So there’s a bunch of tragedy at the beginning involving the troubled life of “The Braided Assassin” Nataanii Jackson (Kusem Goodwind), star player of the Chuska Warriors. He’s got a really compelling, stoic presence and I really thought he was gonna be the main character, but when the team is forced to go on without him you realize oh, this is about his smiley buddy Jimmy Holiday (Kauchani Bratt) having to come into his own. (read the rest of this shit…)
Anora
Monday, November 18th, 2024
ANORA is a real knock out of a movie from writer/director Sean Baker, major indie voice of the 21st century known for style on a microbudget, authentic performances by non-professional actors, and being one of the first to shoot an acclaimed movie on an iPhone. I’ll be honest, I’ve only seen THE FLORIDA PROJECT, which I loved at the time, but for some reason haven’t caught up or kept up with the rest of his filmography. So correct me if I’m wrong, but my impression from that limited view is that this is him doing something a little more slick and mainstream than usual without abandoning what he’s good at.
Not that it’s 100% commercial or normal. It just feels that way. It’s pretty long, it’s about a sex worker, and it’s a somewhat odd combination of genres, but it’s really funny, it’s not super weird, and it has heart. It won the Palme d’Or, but I think it could pass as a fun movie for normal people better than recent winners PARASITE, TITANE, TRIANGLE OF SADNESS or ANATOMY OF A FALL. (read the rest of this shit…)
Jean-Michel Basquiat triple feature: The Radiant Child / Basquiat / Downtown 81
Thursday, November 14th, 2024
A couple months ago I got on a Jean-Michel Basquiat kick. You probly know who that is, but if not, he was a New York City graffiti artist in the early hip hop era, transferred his skills to paintings for galleries, became rich and famous and friends with Andy Warhol and stuff in a brief, prolific life before (like so many bright lights) dying of a drug overdose at 27.
Set aside the inspirational underdog story, the meteoric rise, the quirky details, the tragic ending. All interesting, but you don’t need any context for his art to be incredible. Labelled a “neo-expressionist,” he just has this lively, messy style, an explosion of scratches and scrapes and colors and doodles and words. If they are child-like, then the child in question must’ve remained young for 100 years, evolving his drawing into highly sophisticated crudeness. There are traces of influences from cartoons to African art, he sometimes references boxers and current events and social issues, but he translates it into these distinctive scribbles and cryptic/poetic phrases, sculpting beauty and humor from garbage and decay and vandalism. I don’t know of anybody quite like him, and lately (even before… you know) I’ve really been feeling it’s important to honor and glorify the true originals and pure artists among us, through my chosen medium of, uh, movie reviews. So here I am, glorifying Jean-Michel Basquiat. (read the rest of this shit…)
Juror #2
Thursday, November 7th, 2024
In Clint Eastwood’s JUROR #2, Nicholas Hoult (THOSE WHO WISH ME DEAD) plays Justin Kemp, an upstanding magazine writer in Georgia who gets summoned for jury duty. He tries to get dismissed because his wife Ally (Zoey Deutch, THE DISASTER ARTIST) is expecting soon in what he describes as “a high risk pregnancy,” but he ends up seated on the jury for a murder trial.
The prosecutor Faith Killebrew (Toni Collette, xXx: RETURN OF XANDER CAGE) and public defender Eric Resnick (Chris Messina, BIRDS OF PREY) are friends, or at least professionally friendly enough to talk to each other at the bar they both hang out in. Faith is running for district attorney and feels putting away a real scumbag like this may put her over the top; Eric insists she’s got it wrong this time, the guy is really innocent. Defendant James Sythe (Gabriel Basso, THE KINGS OF SUMMER, also unfortunately played dictator elect J.D. Vance in HILLBILLY ELEGY) is a known asshole who was seen arguing with his girlfriend Kendall (Francesca Eastwood, M.F.A.) at a bar (a decidedly different one than the lawyers go to) until she stormed off, refusing a ride home. The next day a hiker found her dead under a bridge on Old Quarry Road.
As the story is being told to the jury, Justin has a growing “oh, fuck” look on his face, and if you haven’t heard the premise of JUROR #2 you’re gonna be shocked too: he’s realizing that he was there when that fight happened. He remembers the date, because it was Ally’s due date from the last pregnancy, when they lost twins. He took his depressed, recovering alcoholic ass to the hideaway, stared down a drink but didn’t give in, then on his way home his car hit something on Old Quarry Road. He got out, couldn’t find anything in the dark, saw a deer crossing sign and hoped to God that explained it. (read the rest of this shit…)
Ayiti Mon Amour
Monday, September 30th, 2024
As I write this there’s a terrible sickness going around. All the world’s authoritarian assholes have agreed it’s time to whip out the ol’ “immigrants are scary” cliche to rile up the dumbest motherfuckers on earth. In my country there’s a specifically idiotic one where the two sweaty goblins running on the Keep Trump Unaccountable For His Crimes ticket purposely spread a racist myth about Haitian immigrants in a specific town in Ohio, leading to weeks of chaos, harassment and bomb threats. And of course they’ve refused to apologize, doubled down on the lies, and promised to deport these (legal!) immigrants if they manage to take power again.
What can I do about this within my chosen medium of outlaw film criticism? The level of ignorance and gullibility a person would have to possess in order to believe these particular grifters on this specific con seems almost unfathomable, and I do not think it’s within my gifts as a writer to express the humanity of Haitians to somebody lacking the wisdom of the common housefly. All I can do is enlighten myself a little by watching a movie from Haiti and trying to learn a little something. There aren’t many of them available in the U.S., but I found a pretty good one. (read the rest of this shit…)
The Next Karate Kid / Fresh / Milk Money (the end of the summer ’94 series)
Tuesday, September 3rd, 2024
Well, my friends, it’s after Labor Day. Time to stop wearing white shoes according to Serial Mom, and time to wrap up the summer retrospective according to me. Some interesting movies that were released at the end of the summer include Richard Rush’s COLOR OF NIGHT (yet another legendarily hated movie at the time time, I thought it was kind of interestingly crazy when I watched it years later) and Roger Avary’s KILLING ZOE (which I’ve always sort of liked but never nearly as much as I wanted to), both released on the 19th. The 26th gave us another Tarantino-connected movie that was a huge deal at the time, Oliver Stone’s NATURAL BORN KILLERS.
I previously reviewed that one so thoroughly that I not only covered the movie, but the earlier script and the making of book, so I’m not going to rehash it much here. I do want to note that Oliver Stone was one of the directors most associated with boomer self analysis – rightly or wrongly, his movies were a big part of the way people my age conceived of the Vietnam War, the JFK assassination, and of course The Doors. But here in the summer of GUMP he was more interested in being contemporary, cutting edge, of-the-moment. I found the movie’s hyperactive collage style annoying at the time, but I can respect it more now, and it was obviously influential for other movies I initially and/or still find annoying like DOMINO and CRANK. His choice to recruit Trent Reznor to produce the soundtrack album proves that the movie is more Lollapalooza than Woodstock. It was also an early foray into cinema for the future Academy Award winning composer (though of course we all know he was in Paul Schrader’s LIGHT OF DAY in 1987, plus “Head Like a Hole” was in CLASS OF 1999 and PRAYER OF THE ROLLERBOYS and “Dead Souls” was in THE CROW).
This finale to the Summer of ’94 series will focus on a triptych of movies with this sort of generational torch passing as part of their plot. They are stories about young people and the lessons they learn from older mentors. (read the rest of this shit…)
Corrina, Corrina
Thursday, August 22nd, 2024
August 12, 1994
CORRINA, CORRINA is a nice comedy-drama that deals with grief, love and some heavy race and class issues in a very light, warm-hearted sort of way. Is that bad? We can talk about it later.
Manny Singer (Ray Liotta between NO ESCAPE and OPERATION DUMBO DROP) is a recently widowed jingle writer in suburban Los Angeles, 1959. His 9-year-old daughter Molly (Tina Majorino, also in the seal movie ANDRE this summer – sorry, I had to skip a few things) is so not-over-it she refuses to speak, but he’s gonna be screwed if he doesn’t return to work, so he looks for a housekeeper/nanny to stay home with her. After some misfires he ends up with Corrina Washington (Whoopi Goldberg, also in THE LION KING and [briefly] THE LITTLE RASCALS this summer), who seems cynical at first but of course forms an adorable bond with the kid.
In 1994 I wasn’t interested in things this cutesy, and never considered watching it. Now I’m a middle-aged cornball, so I found it moving to see Whoopi turn that little girl’s cartoonish pout into a giggle. Majorino has a pitch perfect deadpan for the non-speaking portions and then a timid little mouse voice when she does talk (spoiler). She breaks your heart when she lays in the grass with her dead mom’s dress laid out next to her, one hand in its pocket, or when Manny lies to a deliveryman that Mrs. Singer is in the bath tub and she lights up and runs to the bathroom to see her. Damn, Manny. What a fuck up. So then you’re primed for the opposite emotion when she notices her dad slipping and referring to Corrina as “your mother” and she doesn’t point it out but breaks into a huge, toothy grin. (read the rest of this shit…)
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