Month: July 2020

DEVS – Alex Garland’s Brilliant Look Into Past Trauma And Our Impending Future

I am a huge fan of Alex Garland. I have always found his writing to be thought provoking and invigorating. 28 Days Later is one of my favorite horror films of all time and his novel, Coma, is one I re-read on a regular basis. He has broken into directing in the last decade and it comes as no surprise to me that he’s quickly established himself as a clear and unique voice in Hollywood. Dredd rocked and Ex Machina blew the world away. With Annihilation, he deftly adapted the first book of Jeff VanderMeer’s astonishing Area X trilogy into one of the best films of 2018.

Now that we have that out of the way we can get down to the meat of this post. Devs.

Devs is a tv show Alex Garland wrote and directed in its entirety. It aired earlier this year on FX and is easily a landmark achievement in not only science fiction but any genre of storytelling.

What’s so great about it? Everything. I’m not going to dive into many details about the plot because anyone willing to take this journey should do so as blind as possible. It is set at some point in our future where automation has taken over our lives. Tech has evolved to the point that it has caused unemployment to spike up to sixty percent. We live in an age where we are beginning to see the future Garland is showing us as a possible real thing. This is scary. This is also merely window dressing in this rich and rewarding story.

The real story is about a young woman who works for a giant tech company and investigates the disappearance and questionable suicide of her boyfriend, who happens to work at the same company. There is a secret project called Devs and what exactly they are up to is the central mystery of this series. Do we get answers? Yes we do and they are so much more profound than we could possibly imagine. This series rocked me to my core. It plays like a conspiracy thriller when it is actually using that to mask a story about trauma and grief. Devs is a slow burn that peels back layer after layer until we lose all sense of direction. It is a work of astounding confidence and brilliant ideas. We’ve seen works in the past that could execute one of these things but not all of them quite like this. It not only sticks the landing, it changes everything.

The young woman is played by Sonoya Mizuno, an actress about to hopefully become a household name. Garland loves her — he’s cast her in Ex Machina and Annihilation already and here he totally lets her loose. She is amazing — with a face that could tell a thousand stories.

Side note: She was also incredible in Netflix’s Maniac.

We also have Nick Offerman playing the co-lead as the head of this tech company. He is manipulative and borderline evil but is also suffering great loss while maintaining some type of humanity. It’s strange to find his presence and voice so comforting no matter what is happening on screen. The bottom line is that he is a man determined to play out the only hand he believes he has. There is a sort of twisted nobility in this.

All of the characters in the series are fully realized with motivations of their own. This is vital for a story like this — we have to care no matter what. I’m going to have to cut this relatively short because the more I write, the more I run the risk of spilling the beans. I don’t want to do that to anyone.

I will say this: the finale turns everything upside down and around again. Just when you think you have this figured out, Garland ups the intelligence ante and takes you where you secretly wanted to go — without you realizing you wanted it all along. I will die on the hill proclaiming this one of the greatest finales in television history and one of the most profound and deeply moving endings to a story, ever.

Hit print.

Next week, either Tom Hardy or Tales from the Loop — we’ll see. Until then, love each other.

Gilliam Friday #3 – Brazil

Here we are in week three of the Gilliam project and we’ve already had some surprises. This week, however, no surprise with Brazil and its genius. This is a film I check in on every few years and like other high-level art, it is a film that strikes me as more relevant than ever.

Brazil stars Jonathan Pryce as Sam Lowry, a middle-of-the-road office worker for the totalitarian Ministry of Information. Gilliam begins the proceedings showing us another worker hunting down a bug, killing it, and creating a misprint on a docket labeling an innocent man as a threat to society. They are after a known terrorist named Tuttle (played by a game Robert DeNiro) but instead arrest a man named Buttle. The innocent man is tortured and accidentally killed because his heart condition wasn’t disclosed on the other man’s medical history. This is clarified in a hilariously inept exchange between Sam and a friend who happens to be the torturer. It is an indictment on the increasingly bureaucratic tendencies of modern government. All anyone does is blame another department, create fixes that break more things and eventually try and quiet dissenters.

We first meet Sam in the midst of a fantastical dream. While asleep, Sam sees himself as a majestic winged warrior, fighting monsters in order to save the damsel in distress. His dreams are shot with Sam mostly attacking from above, lending an air of superiority. This is in stark contrast to his real life which is mundane and small — with an overbearing mother to boot. Sam is content in his life until he sees an image of the woman he has been dreaming of. This sets Sam off on an adventure to find this literal woman of his dreams. The woman in question was a neighbor of Buttle and is searching for what happened to the innocent man. Sam gets wrapped up in her quest while also dealing with the real terrorist, Tuttle, who pops up every now and again to help Sam out of a pickle. These small events in particular are key in understanding where Gilliam is ultimately going with the story.

Gilliam has constructed two worlds in this film, one of majestic beauty, while the other is a hulking dystopia. Sam feels powerful in the world of his dreams and Pryce portrays him as calm and confident. The real world is where Pryce truly shines by playing Sam as a smallish yet determined man full of nervous energy. He so desperately wants a win and to do something that truly matters. He’s willing to go the distance. In a wonderful twist, Sam is actually way more heroic in the real world. Gilliam loads up the real world with trope imagery. All office workers look and dress the same, managers are the same, assistants are the same, kids all are the same — you see where I’m going with this. The society is beholden to the technology they crave — TVs and radios are everywhere. In classic Gilliam fashion, the future again looks antiquated. We quickly realize how this film represents a perfect marriage of material and artist. Gilliam has always had an adversarial relationship with authority and Brazil is a commentary on this aspect of society — it is also so much more. Gilliam is also rubbing our faces in our own fascist relationship with technology. The more we seek the comfort and ease of tech, the quicker and easier we become a slave to it. Is tech a stand-in for God?

Gilliam blasts out of the gates on fire. His camera creates terror, confusion and paranoia in nearly every scene. It is constantly chaotic and hilariously absurd. This is also the director’s most focused film to this point in his career. He bought in and the film is instantly laser focused. Another thing of note is the whimsical, musical sensibility Gilliam instills in the real world setting. This creates a perfect and telling rhythm to the film and Gilliam never loses it here. Everything works like a finely tuned piece of machinery from start to finish.

It’s important for Gilliam to maintain total control as the narrative spirals into madness. The stakes get higher and Sam’s fantasy dream world begins to blend into the real world. I feel like Brazil was a major influence for the film, Being John Malkovich. With that said, there is still more to unpack with the film because it would stand as a classic without even delving into the twist of the finale. Eventually, Sam is captured and before he can be tortured, he is rescued by Tuttle and other insurgents. Sam and Tuttle are chased with Tuttle literally disappearing in a storm of loose papers. The chase for Sam continues as his dream world and real world fully blend together. Sam is then confronted and chased by his own failures as a man and by every facet of society he has thus far faced. Gilliam is showing us that middle age is a confrontation of what happens if you give up on your dreams — you’re destined to be imprisoned by your own shortcomings. This is the cost of what we give up in order to join the rat race instead of chasing the wants and hopes of our youth. Sam is confronted by his mother who, through plastic surgery, now looks just like the woman from Sam’s dreams. Sam then disappears into a void and ends up rescued by his dream woman — rescued by love.

Except he isn’t rescued at all. Sam is last seen having been captured and lobotomized — destined to live out his days in the bliss of a manufactured simpleton.

What does it all mean?

I’ll stake my flag right here saying that Sam was actually Tuttle all along. The Tuttle we saw represented by DeNiro was never really there, nor was the woman of Sam’s dreams. No, Sam was captured early on and tortured in order for the Ministry of Information to maintain control. This is a sour ending to a visually joyous film but it’s also a profound lesson for us to learn about how delusion can alter our perception of even the simplest of things. Gilliam hit one out of the park with Brazil, one of his best films, and one of the most inventive films Hollywood has seen. I loved it my whole life and I love it even more now.

Next Friday is the day for the Baron. Until then, love each other.

Three Authors And Four Stories

Wednesdays are usually reserved for poetry but I will never force it and I don’t have anything ready on the poetry front. Like I’ve said in a previous post, sometimes Wednesdays will be my version of a mailbag installment. Perhaps I should refer to it as my version of Jeopardy’s potpourri category. There are some things I have less thoughts on and I will use my time here to discuss a few of them.

First up, Michael Connelly’s new book, Fair Warning.

Roughly three years ago, I met Michael Connelly at a book signing for The Late Show. I seized the opportunity to ask him if he had any plans to bring back Jack McEvoy, a character I have always adored. Jack first appeared in Connelly’s masterpiece, The Poet. He’s only featured in one subsequent novel and it’s been a long time since even that novel was released. I missed Jack and wanted a new story — hopefully also with FBI agent Rachel Walling. Connelly was gracious in taking my inquiry, saying never say never and giving me the inside scoop on a potential tv show featuring Jack. We’re still waiting on that.

Cut to this summer and guess what? Jack’s back, baby.

Fair Warning is Connelly’s best work in quite some time. Jack isn’t just back, he wears the years since we last saw him like a series of scars. He’s older and a little more cynical but just as dogged as ever. And surprise surprise, Rachel Walling is also back. As much as I love Jack, Rachel is his balance. She is the secret sauce to Jack — she brings out the best in him and these stories.

I love how Connelly gives us a deep dive into the plight of print media and how much the world has changed since last we saw Jack. It’s obvious how passionate Connelly was about this one. This baby is a hot rod with knives on its rims. Once Jack gets his nose into a story he’s as impulsive as ever and this leads him toward constant danger. I couldn’t put it down. Everything feels real — the minutia of reporting and investigative journalism is something I find riveting.

I am not even going to approach a summary or even tease much of the plot because I’ll go on a rant and spill he beans and I don’t want to spoil any of this for anyone. The villain of Fair Warning is phenomenal — an all-time great Connelly villain. I will say this, Connelly’s writing is as simple and economical as ever. He always stays out of the reader’s way, like all writers should.

Next, I read through Chuck Palahniuk’s two sequels to Fight Club. For the record, Fight Club is a book I cherish (the film too). It is a complete deconstruction of toxic masculinity and helped me as a young man to understand the wrong steps that are so easy for us to take. I give Chuck some credit for me being a better adult than I otherwise would be. He attacked toxic masculinity before it was fashionable to do so. The two sequels are actually graphic novels which give the stories a more cinematic feel. I like this choice. Fight Club 2 is superior to 3 but they’re both worthwhile leads. Fight Club 2 further strengthens the ideals set forth by the original and the idea of two people within us is one I subscribe to. There is always a chance we’ll go off the rails. Fight Club 3? It is batshit crazy and super meta. I can’t say anything other than this right now. I may need to read Three a few more times. Jesus, it is crazy.

Last but certainly never least is the new short story by Haruki Murakami. He is one of my all time favorite authors — I devour his work. This new story was recently Published in The New Yorker. It is titled, The Shinagawa Monkey and is a fascinating story about a lonely man and even lonelier monkey. Like most of his work, Murakami uses magical realism to get his point across. The co-lead of this story is a talking, thieving monkey who steals trinkets and women’s names. What Murakami is really getting at here is that we give away pieces of ourselves when we fall in love, lust, have sex, or all of the above. His stories can be like trying to understand a sand castle by examining the grains of sand. They require thought and peace of mind. Hell, his work GIVES me peace of mind. No matter how big or small his stories are, they are always about the world around us, what we get out of it and more importantly, what we give up in return.

That’s a wrap, folks. See you Friday. Until then, love each other.