Month: August 2020

Class Action Park – A Documentary Of How I Grew Up

It’s a good thing that I keep notes on everything I decide to write about otherwise I wouldn’t remember my thoughts on, The King Of Staten Island. Yes, I’m pushing that film one more week. I fully intended to write about it for this post but a special little something came my way via HBOMax. That special little something was a documentary called, Class Action Park. Why do I consider it a special little something? Because it was one of my favorite places to go during my formative years.

I urge everyone who has the new HBO service to check this doc out in order to fully grasp how insane this “amusement” park was. There has never been anything quite like it in its wake. I’m going to go less into the doc and more into my vault of memories in order to paint this picture. This may end up being a little more abstract because memory can be fickle but paint this picture I will try to do.

Action Park was nestled in a mountain in the town of Vernon, just on the New Jersey side of the border with New York. It’s New York sister town is Warwick, the town nearly my entire family grew up in. Hell, when I was four years old, I lived maybe two miles from Action Park, right on the same road (route 94). I grew up hearing countless stories about this maniac’s paradise. We drove by it on our way to Space Farms (another maniac’s paradise full of literal shit throwing monkeys, grizzlies on death’s door, animals missing feet, a snake pit, and a lodge full of taxidermy which is an odd touch for a zoo). A few of my aunts and uncles and their friends all worked at Action Park and they told us the craziest stories, trying to scare us. It didn’t scare me — it made me want to go even more. Not a summer went by without the rumor of another death. We didn’t know what to believe so we chose to believe it all.

The older I got, the more I badgered my parents into taking us. To this day, my mother claims she never took us — I think this is her way of trying to hide her shame in allowing us access to this playground for psychos. I have specific memories of my parents emphatically saying, “NO” to the wave pool. I also remember my father walking me up the hill to the wave pool and showing me the literal hundreds of people in the pool at once. He’d say, “look at all these animals, they have no regard for hygiene or safety, someone is about to die.” Eventually, I won out and we went to the wave pool. I was made to stay in the shallow end while my father and one of my uncles went into the deeper end to test things out. They came back two minutes later, paler and out of breath, saying, “it’s a death trap, seriously, someone is gonna die today.” And that was the end of the wave pool. In all honesty, I only went in that wave pool maybe one more time when I got older and it was truly a miserable experience. The water was unnaturally warm and full of chemicals to offset shit we probably don’t want to even think about entering that pool. There were always too many people in the pool and the water was, how do I put this, less than translucent. Thus ended my infatuation with the wave pool but not the park.

Once I was a teenager, my love for the park blossomed. Now I was big enough to go on all the rides. In truth, there were never any rules and I could have probably done whatever I wanted as a little kid but my parents, for some reason, did not want me to die. I was now old enough to go alone with my friends and we went all the time. “Mom, Brian’s here, we’re going over to his house.” Off to Action Park. “Mom, Ryan is here, we’re going to his house.” Off to Action Park. “Mom, Matt’s here, Jimmy and Scotty are here, Howard’s here, we’re going to the mall, the fair, the skatepark, etc.” Off to Action Park. Hell, the last two years it was known as Action Park, in the mid 90s, I had a fucking season pass. That bad boy set you back twenty bucks…for the entire summer. In fact, one of the last times I was ever at Action Park was in August of 1996. There were a lot of us that day because it was the local date for The Warped Tour. I watched many of my friends pony up serious money for Warped Tour tickets and I got to go for free. See, Action Park didn’t bother to close that day and since I had a season pass, I was allowed entry. There was no discernible way to tell the difference between where the festival was and the rest of the park. Maybe there was but I was never stopped and freely moved between cooling off on water rides and going back to the festival. What a day.
The park was split in half by route 94 which cut through the town of Warwick and continued on into New Jersey. The doc dramatizes how the park was split in half by a major highway and this isn’t entirely true. Route 94 is still only a two-lane road — a fast two lane road but not exactly a major highway. Still, it was a bit dangerous. If you couldn’t get a parking spot in the lot next to the park entrance, you had to park in an adjacent lot and then walk along route 94 until you got into Action Park. It was like a thrill ride before getting to the thrill rides. I even heard stories from my uncles about racing the go-karts on route 94 at night. The karts were only supposed to go about 20mph but there were ways to override the governors and get those karts at speeds over 50mph. I know for a fact that this happened routinely and it was hilarious to hear the documentary confirm this for everyone else. There were also speed boats but the rumors about the water being infested with snakes are 100% accurate and thus I never even attempted those boats. Also, I remember having to be at least 21 to ride the boats, which I never was that old while Action Park was open. There were also bumper boats but the “pond” they were in was nothing but pure gasoline and oil. The smell could overpower you just from walking past the spot. Then, there were the battle tanks. These were fun. They cost extra money but we always paid. You could ride around in a little fenced in arena, inside of a miniature tank, shooting tennis balls from your cannon at the other tanks. If you hit the target, the tank was incapacitated for a short time. The arena itself was littered with cannons on the fence where non-participants could pop in some quarters and shoot tennis balls at the tanks too. This was all outrageous fun. I specifically remember how proficient my younger brother was at the tanks. Now, the real fun began when a tank would require service. When this happened, an Action Park employee had to enter the arena and fix the tank. If you watched closely, you’d notice the tank area would have a lot of people hanging around. Once an employee entered the arena, everyone would race to an outer cannon, pop in some quarters, and proceed to pelt the attendant with tennis balls. What a bunch of assholes we were.

That was all on one side of the park. You could then walk across the pedestrian bridge to get the rest of the mayhem. They suckered you in at first with a cool little mini-golf course that was unfortunately always somehow flooded out in spots. From there, you’d walk ahead and see perhaps the most famous of Action Park rides, the Cannonball Loop. I wish I had a cool story about this ride but I’m not convinced it was ever open. That was always the rumor, that the ride was sometimes open. Every single time I was ever at the park, that ride was shut down. The documentary does a great job of highlighting how insane the “engineering” of that ride was. The most hilarious aspect of that ride, and in many of the rides, was how shallow the water was that you shot out into. They were essentially the depth of parking lot puddles.

Right to the left of the Cannonball Loop were the Bungee jumping towers and an absolutely diabolical ride called the Slingshot. I never bungee jumped because that seemed like a bridge too far but I did pay the five dollar fee to do the slingshot…once. I have never been so terrified in my life. It’s a two person ride where you sit inside a sphere which has two giant bungee cords attached to it. The other end of these cords are attached to twin poles that must be a hundred feet tall. Three, two, one and boom! You are shot straight at the sun. You are positive that you have made that fatal mistake and are about to meet your ancestors. You can’t walk or think straight for about twenty minutes after exiting the ride. I spent the rest of that day trying to trick my friends into doing it themselves but alas they were all smarter than I.

The rest of the park opened up into the mountain. There were two cliff dives that ended in water always occupied by other swimmers. I can’t tell you how many times I watched someone cliff dive on top of someone else. The attendants at the dives gave you some “rules” but nobody listened to them and there were no repercussions for not listening. What I remember most is the people who were hesitant at the edge and the verbal abuse they were subjected to by other guests until succumbing to peer pressure. There was also a Tarzan swing and the doc explains just how cold that water was but you can never understand just how cold unless you did that swing yourself. It was shocking. It’s also the first time I saw nudity in real time. I’m not proud of what I’m about to tell you but there were spots to stand at Action Park where you were guaranteed to see naked girls. The Tarzan swing claimed bikini tops. Geronimo Falls was another. I never did the tallest ones, I did the slightly smaller one right next to it and felt like my suit split my asshole in half, that was enough for me. Still, Geronimo Falls was a place where bikini tops were also claimed and we knew it. The last spot was Surf Hill which was like a gigantic set of slip ‘n slides right next to each other. There was no way to really separate the lanes and countless times we’d skip over and crash into each other. It was painful but somehow still exceedingly fun. Also, it ate up bikini tops. There was also a ride called Aqua Skoot. This ride had you sit on a plastic board and fly down a set of assembly line rollers. I’m not making this up. I watched a guy instantly fall forward and bounce, face first, down all of the rollers, going full scorpion and ending up in the “pool” at the bottom. I also got chased by bees every single time. This was something the doc pointed out as a regular occurrence. There was also a small arena with a giant fan that allowed you to “sky dive.” I got kicked off this ride after convincing the attendant to allow my friend Jimmy and myself on at the same time. We then engaged in the worst kung fu fight you’ve ever seen, the fan shut off, and we were asked to seek fun elsewhere. Lastly, there were a few rapids rides which are still, to this day, my favorite rapids rides ever. On the two man tubes, you could get your tube going absurdly fast and banking incredibly high on the sides. My friend Howard and I could routinely launch our tube over the side of the ride, marooning ourselves before bombing back into the ride. The craziest aspect of the rapids rides was how each one deposited everyone into the same pool. It turned into bumper tubes and a lot of testosterone led to many a fracas. The quickest way out, since you had to carry your tube back up to the top, was to launch off your own, run across other tubes, and steal someone else’s tube and off you went.

I don’t know, I loved this documentary and in particular, the way it made me remember all the time I spent at Action Park. More than that, it made me remember the insane and special childhood I had. I’m in my 40s now and having grown up in the 80s and 90s, kids today will never understand how unique a badge of honor that is. It’s not that our parents didn’t love and care for us, it’s that they trusted us to not kill our selves and they trusted the world around us. Growing up in Warwick (technically I grew up in Middletown but Warwick was where my family resided and where we spent a major portion of our time) I remember me and my brother and our cousins arriving at our grandparents’ house and being set loose on our own in the woods. This helped us develop a more intrepid spirit that I think has served us well into adulthood. Action Park represented that idea to its fullest. It let us go wild, get hurt, learn lessons and try again. We made it out alive and I’m not sure how but I am thankful for all of it. We were kings.

Next week, I (sort of) promise we’ll discuss The King Of Staten Island. Until then, love each other.

Gilliam Friday #11 – The Man Who Killed Don Quixote

Finally, the monkey is off his back. After decades of struggle, heartbreak and misfortune, Gilliam finally achieved catharsis in getting his magnum opus onto the big screen. To some, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote may seem like just another film, a weird film, but still just a film. To those of us who have followed Gilliam’s career, this film being released is everything. Before we get any further into the film itself, let’s chronicle the entire production just to gain some perspective on this journey.

Gilliam began work on the film in 1989. This was shortly after the financial debacle of The Adventures Of Baron Munchausen. Hollywood didn’t really have a good sense of how to deal with Gilliam as an artist. He began writing Quixote while taking on directing jobs for two films he didn’t write: The Fisher King and Twelve Monkeys. It took Gilliam nine years (and a third straight success with Fear and Loathing) in order to secure funding for his Don Quixote project. Soon after, he secured the services of Johnny Depp as his star and they began the shoot in 2000. The production did not last long. Flooding, illness, and other monetary (not to mention insurance) issues ended production of the film. Gilliam would try and resurrect his project several times to no avail. Eventually, Depp had to drop out and many of the sets were completely destroyed. This hammered several nails into the film’s coffin. While they were filming, Gilliam began shooting behind the scenes footage for a “making of” supplement to the film. This became the documentary, Lost In La Mancha, and was released in 2002. It stood as a chronicle of disaster.

The troubled, disastrous production of, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, plagued Gilliam for the latter part of his career. From the distracted job he did with The Brothers Grimm, to some serious dark material in Tideland and Doctor Parnassus, the filmmaker was trying to shake himself from a depression.

Well, he finally did it.

The Man Who Killed Don Quixote finally hit screens and it is largely a triumph. Gilliam still has the goods and really really really knows how to cast. He stepped in a golden pile of shit by casting Adam Driver and Jonathan Pryce together as his leads. They are perfectly balanced in opposition. Pryce is no stranger to Gilliam and he digs into his role as a man who believes himself to be the famed adventurer. Adam Driver, is a wonderful counterbalance as the young filmmaker who’s spent the last several years trying to find his true self. Gilliam has altered his film to better fit the dark period this new vision was born from. Quixote is a film at once about the folly of youth and the regret of old age. We can sense the freedom of spirit that Gilliam rediscovered in finally getting his pet project completed. The production design is exquisite and the script is better than ever. I couldn’t imagine any other actors than Driver and Pryce in this film now — call it kismet. I love the idea put forth of a story about two men, one old and one young, whose lives never amounted to what they once hoped for themselves. Quixote is chock full of second guessing, calling men out on their views of the world, silly fight scenes, musical numbers, and ultimately immense heart. This is Gilliam laying it all out and reclaiming his position as one of film’s unique auteurs. I hope he gets to make more films, at least one more, before he hangs it up. He deserves a victory lap and one last dance now that he is free from his albatross.

Bravo Mr. Gilliam, bravo.

Next week, the wrap-up. Until then, love each other.

Elemental — A New Poem

There’s nothing hungrier than a fire
A flame’s appetite is voracious
It consumes everything in sight
Leaving nothing but ash in its wake
*
It has a weakness in water
The cool and blue equalizer
Sniffing out flame like assassins
And the legacy, forgotten
*
When water and wind mix, no good comes
Together they play the destructor
With nothing but chaos on their minds
They smash and carve with unbridled ire
*
And so we turn to Mother Earth
We rebuild lives in her image
Yet we ignore the warning signs
As the death cycle goes again
*

My Blue Heaven and Goodfellas are Siblings, Who Knew?

Well, I button-hooked ya, didn’t I? My intention was to write about The King Of Staten Island this week but some interesting news came my way and I switched things up at the last minute.

The year was 1990 and two mob movies came out within a month of each other. Those movies were: Goodfellas and My Blue Heaven. I saw them both as a kid and loved them both. In the spirit of honesty, My Blue Heaven is a movie that has largely fallen by the wayside for me in the decades since its release but the other day, I stumbled upon a story about its release which led me to a rewatch and an idea for this post.

The story is this: Goodfellas is the true story of Henry Hill, a mobster who turned on his friends and associates in exchange for immunity. He then went into witness protection. My Blue Heaven is also about Henry Hill though they changed the name in the film and the events are fictionalized for comedy.

I never knew this and just you wait because the story gets better.

Henry Hill, while in witness protection began meeting with a writer in order to tell his life story. That writer was Nicholas Pilleggi and over the span of a few months, he got to know Hill and began writing his story. The book was called, Wiseguy, and when Martin Scorsese got ahold of it, there was no denying him a chance to put that story up on the screen. We know it as Goodfellas.

But we are not done.

While interviewing Hill, Pilleggi’s wife began conceiving an idea all her own. Her name was Nora Ephron and she was a screenwriter. She took her husband’s experiences with Hill and wrote a comedic take on everything which became the movie, My Blue Heaven. The same studio optioned both of the movies and released them one month apart. I find this all marvelously interesting. We could even look at My Blue Heaven as a quasi-sequel to Goodfellas.

So, onto the movie. How does it hold up?

It is still a wonderful film, all these years later.

The production of the film got off to a rocky start because they couldn’t lock down a cast. Steve Martin was originally hired to play the FBI agent Coopersmith with Arnold Schwarzenegger slated for the role of the mobster Vinnie, er Tod. Schwarzenegger dropped out in order to star in Kindergarten Cop which left a huge hole in the production. Steve Martin stepped up and suggested he could switch roles and play Vinnie. Rick Moranis was soon hired to play Coopersmith and the rest is history.

Starting with the cast of this film, we are in for a treat. Steve Martin is a treasure and was always a big part of my life growing up. From SNL to films like The Jerk, Three Amigos, Dirty Rotten Socundrels, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Parenthood, etc. Martin was a mainstay in our house. The same could be said of Rick Moranis. There was SCTV, Ghostbusters, Honey I shrunk The kids, Spaceballs, Little Shop Of Horrors, etc. so yeah, no-brainer. Joan Cusack is also wonderful in this film, another 80s star who found her way into many of our favorite movies. Last but not least is Bill Irwin. He steals this movie for me. His dancing is super humanly hilarious and put a permanent smile on my face. In the last few years, watching Legion, Irwin’s character became my favorite and I had a hard time figuring out why I instantly connected with him. I remember now. His performance in My Blue Heaven is spectacular.

The movie is exactly my kind of movie as it’s not interested in plot at all. Instead it sets scenes for these characters to use and shed a little light on who they are. Not to sound like a broken record but I ALWAYS prefer character over plot. Steve Martin is so brilliant as Vinny, perfectly capturing the larger-than-life persona in one of his silliest performances. Rick Moranis, for his part is one of the greatest ever at conveying awkwardness. You can’t help but root for him in every role he’s ever played. I miss him dearly. Hollywood misses him dearly. I’m holding out hope that he’ll eventually return to acting and continue spreading his brand of joy to the world. Speaking of joy, My Blue Heaven is chock full of it. You’ll know if you’re in or not within the first five minutes and if you are, the smile will never leave your face. The jokes are stellar and multi-layered, sometimes you’ll find yourself laughing at a joke told a few minutes prior. The script is tight and the dialog fantastic. Martin is an impeccable asshole and plays Vinnie like a quasi-sequel to his character from The Jerk. Again, he is a treasure. The production design is vibrant and full of life. The shot composition adds to every moment — I swear I could sense the weather in every scene. I don’t think the film gets enough credit for how incredible the entire production conveys multiple things at one time — supreme talent on display here.

What started as an exercise on a story told from two different perspectives became a wonderful examination on what breathes excitement and life into our lives. This is a story about people and what a wonderful story it is.

Next week, Staten Island gets its due, I promise. Until then, love each other.

Gilliam Friday #10 – The Zero Theorem

This film doesn’t work. On paper, it sounds great but in reality, it never lifts off the page. The film is set in another dystopian future, though this time it is one speckled with vibrant color. It’s definitely pleasing to the eye. I particularly liked the opening few minutes where Waltz’s character leaves his dark and dreary home and steps outside into a bright and vibrant, yet dilapidated world. Gilliam’s playfulness with lighting sells this. Now, the story follows a worker, obsessed with his own impending death, being tasked by management to prove a theory that everything in life ultimately adds up to nothing. This is known as the Zero Theorem, hence the title. If this sounds intriguing, that’s because it is intriguing but the subsequent film is a joyless affair. Everyone is either openly depressed or masking their depression. It was all too bleak for my taste.

The cast is a good one but most aren’t left with much to do. Christoph Waltz is good but his character is so dour, it’s hard to root for him because even he doesn’t know what he really wants out of life. David Thewlis, as his supervisor, injects at least some life into this film every time he is on screen. Ben Whishaw and Peter Stormare are two actors I love to see but they’re are in the film for only a few short minutes. The same can be said for Tilda Swindon. Matt Damon plays management in the film and again, I love him in nearly everything else he’s ever done but he just doesn’t mesh with Gilliam as a creative partner. His scenes are stale. This puts a lot of pressure on Waltz to carry everything off himself but the script doesn’t allow that to happen. The only people who truly come alive on screen are Lucas Hedges who plays the son of management and Melanie Thierry, who plays a sex worker named Bainsley, and Waltz’s character’s(Qohan) muse. She is electric and the only one who looks to be having any fun. I looked up her imdb page and was shocked to see that she hasn’t really broken out in Hollywood. If nothing else, this film should have launched a big career for her.

One thing I must note is that this is yet another story where the main female character is objectified and sexualized by all of the male characters. This has become a running theme throughout Gilliam’s career and something I will be certain to dive into when I write my wrap-up in two weeks.

There are cool and interesting moments in the film for sure. Qohan has a computer monitor in his home that allows him to view an expanding black hole. There’s a moment where he projects himself and Bainsley into space, nearing this black hole that is nothing if not revelatory. They discuss the idea of the soul and how life must mean something. Qohan is dealing with unknown trauma and it’s making him increasingly nihilistic. Him choosing the black hole as his favorite place to visit leads Bainsley to ask this question: Is THAT what’s inside of you? How do you live with all that…emptiness? It’s a profound question and one that Qohan doesn’t have a good answer for because he’s unwilling to accept what may or may not reside inside of him.

At first, I thought this film was an allegory about mankind becoming a slave to technology and while that is part of it, the film is actually diving much deeper. The film is really about the soul of mankind and the world that lives within us. We can become shut-ins who are desperate to remain in the dark with our secrets. It’s familiar territory for Gilliam and he’s explored it better in the past — most recently in his previous film, Doctor Parnassus.

There are neat tricks Gilliam pulls off in an attempt to excite and seduce us. As Qohan begins to unravel, the camera becomes more active — leading us off balance and jolting us awake. It’s a shame that we desperately need this push because everything else has landed so flat. Qohan proves the theory to management’s satisfaction but not his own — he is not convinced that he sufficiently proved that everything adds up to nothing. This is partly because he is in love with Bainsley and partly because he’s never let go of his old trauma. By the end, Qohan has attempted to purge himself of his pain but instead gives in. He ends in a digital afterlife where he can hopefully be content and happy with Bainsley. There is evidence during the credits that Qohan may not have been successful but it’s all vague.

The Zero Theorem is a quiet, ponderous film about the entirety of life. It has ideas but they never lift off and instead feel like a film version of reading a textbook. And this may be the point of the film, like the title suggests — but there’s no joy anywhere near it.

Again, I cannot overstate how devastating the failed project of Don Quixote was to Gilliam as an artist. Ever since his legendary struggles began with that cursed project, he flailed about. He managed to recapture some of his early magic here and there but more often than not, Quixote was an albatross, hanging from his neck and dragging him into the muck. Nearly every film in the wake of that disaster felt like his own commentary on what went wrong. The effort here is admirable but not necessarily enjoyable.

I cannot wait for next week when we’ll finally talk about the Don Quixote project. Until then, love each other.

Motherless Brooklyn – Old School Noir With A New School Skin

I’ll start by saying this: I’ve never read Lethem’s novel this film is based on. I have nothing against Lethem or his undeniable talent as a writer, he’s just not a writer I seek out. Who I do tend to seek out is Edward Norton. You take Norton and put him in a noir-ish story and I’m there twice. So I was actually looking forward to this film quite a bit.

And you know what? I liked it.

First off, the film is surprisingly funny, especially early on. The banter between Lionel and his cohorts is great and honest in the way long time friends speak with each other. The film is well cast from top to bottom. Guru Mbatha-Raw is the star of the movie, the camera cannot get enough of her and she still maintains a nuanced performance amongst a sea of scene chewing sharks. Baldwin is a terrific villain and Willem Dafoe is unable to give a dull performance — his scenes crackle. The same can be said of Cherry Jones, who the more I think about, is just like Dafoe in her ability to always be interesting. The overall score of the film is great, lending a slightly modern take on the classic, lonely jazz of an old school noir film. Thom Yorke’s contribution to the music is also great. As for the production design, great care went into this to transform the New York City area into the Brooklyn of old. The photography here is also marvelous — a very handsome production.

Now, let’s dig in and begin with the actors in a little more detail. I’ll begin with Norton, who took some stick for his portrayal of a man battling Tourette’s syndrome. I don’t want to start an argument with any experts or those suffering from Tourette’s but I worked with a man suffering from this affliction and after four years working with this man, I know what Tourette’s looks and sounds like and Norton nailed it. I understand when someone might see this film and think Norton is playing it for laughs but Tourette’s is extremely awkward for those afflicted and they often lean into it in an attempt to deflect from the affliction itself. I watched the manI worked with use his tics and attempt to turn them into little jokes. As for how his character relates the the film’s plot, he’s a great underdog early on. He is classily dogged in his pursuit of the truth but he’s physically at a constant disadvantage. Alec Baldwin hovers over the early proceedings like a malevolent specter, before exploding to the forefront in the second half. Films like this often require a huge villain and Baldwin uses his natural charisma to create a compelling one. Cherry Jones crushes her scenes as a player in this game railing against what the elite are trying to accomplish. Equaling Jones’ big performance is Willem Dafoe who is all nervous energy. This creates multiple dynamic character interactions and helps the film continue to slide right along. Then comes Gugu Mbatha-Raw who is pure bright light in this darkening sea of criminal activity. She practically walks on water. Michael K. Williams is also great in his small role — he’s always the coolest guy in the room.

Onto the story and it’s a timely one. It’s about the secret (and not so secret) power play for land in the city. We get a cautionary tale about politics and the lengths powerful men will go in order to secure more power. This is not subtle. It’s framed within a story about housing and gentrification of minority neighborhoods — something which is still going on to this day. The film is on the longer side at around two and a half hours but the length is earned. This never felt like a slog to me. It’s chock full of ideas yet never comes across as overstuffed.

Like I said at the top, I liked this film. It’s a well made plate of comfort food for me — dogged hero, huge villain, electrifying side characters, story with enough humor to provide some levity.

That’s all I have. Next week we’ll do The King Of Staten Island. Until then, love each other.

Gilliam Friday #9 – The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus

We can’t dig in to the next film on the list without, again, beating the Quixote drum. I now see just how much Gilliam was reeling from the destroyed project that consumed him for nearly a decade. He had previously tried to shake himself loose from his rut by taking on two projects so close together that they were released in the same year. The first, Brothers Grimm, was unfocused and messy. The second, Tideland, was the darkest material Gilliam had tackled. It felt more like an exorcism than a full fledged film. Now, four years later, I found him still trying to work through the pain of his failed magnum opus.

What should also be noted is how the production of The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus ran into trouble at every turn. First there was the death of actor Heath Ledger during principal photography, then upon completion, a producer died, and then during post production, Gilliam himself was hit by a car. This film still getting made and released is a small miracle in and of itself.

Onto the reason we’re together today, the 2009 film, The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus.

It tells the story of an aging conman/magician/mystical person named Doctor Parnassus who is really more of a gambler. He is constantly engaging in bets with the devil, losing those bets and doubling down to try and dig himself out of a hole. At first, he won and was granted immortality. He quickly realized that immortality was not all he thought it to be and made a new deal to be granted youth so he could be with the woman he loved. The payment was that if he ever had a child, at the age of sixteen, that child would become property of the devil. The film begins only a few short days before Parnassus’ daughter’s sixteenth birthday.

Parnassus, his daughter, and two assistants have been relegated to performing in their own traveling sideshow where they attempt to trick people into passing through their magic mirror. Once inside the mirror, the person is now inside of Parnassus’ imagination. Of course, what they see and experience is also partly dictated by their own imagination. It’s here that they will then be given a choice between two locations — one represents Parnassus’ theory on life while the other represents the devil. Parnassus struggles to find people who don’t succumb to the devil’s promises and thus is digging himself even deeper.

One night, they happen upon a hanging man beneath a London bridge and rescue the man. He’s played by Heath Ledger and has no memory of his previous life. The film really takes off from here as Ledger joins the troupe as a thank you for saving him. He is wonderful in this film — a natural con artist full of exuberance, wit and charm. With Tony’s help, Parnassus begins to gain the upper hand with the devil and just may be able to pull off one last wager and save the soul of his daughter.

Up to this point in the film, there are a few things to note. First, the imagination on display is second to none. Gilliam is fully in his wheelhouse. The monks’ snow covered temple, for example, is extraordinary. Again, Gilliam is giving us a vision only he could give, warts and all. Like many of his previous films, it takes a little while for the tone to settle and gel but we get there — Gilliam, like many auteurs, forces you to buy in to his vision and leave your own shit at the door. The material again is on the darker side. Many of the scenes and dialog and actions toward the daughter, Valentina, are problematic. She’s only sixteen and this does lead to some uncomfortable moments. Gilliam knew this and framed it around the devil’s wishes to soften, or at least explain, the questionable antics. There’s also a moment of blackface in the film which has no business being there. There is simply no excuse for it. It was done to serve a joke but the punchline is not worth a second of the journey taken to get there. So, the film is definitely an imperfect film.

Now, as I’m watching, I’m still digging the film because it’s really about the world each of us holds inside our mind. It’s around the halfway point where LEdger’s character, Tony, first enters the mirror. The result propels the second half of the film ever higher than its setup. It’s also where we first get a glimpse of the genius idea Gilliam had to get the film finished despite his lead actor’s death. He gathered a few of Ledger’s friends to play the late actor’s role. Tony goes into the mirror on three separate occasions and the mirror world inside Parnassus’ mind changes Tony’s face. The first time this happens, Ledger transforms into Johnny Depp. This is the shortest of changes and also the least effective. I love Depp. He’s one of my all time favorites and was brilliant in Fear and Loathing. Here, he plays Tony with a smirk and a wink. It’s more brooding and a little off from Ledger’s take. The second time Tony enters, he transforms into Jude Law. This is the best alternate version of Tony. Where Depp did his own thing, Law matches Ledger’s tone and nervous energy. It’s a damn near perfect match. It’s also our longest look inside the mirror world. I remember thinking that Gilliam should’ve been the one to make a live film version of Alice in Wonderland. He’s always been in love with Lewis Carroll and has paid homage to the writer on countless occasions. You could make the case that this film is his version of Alice in Wonderland. It’s equal parts whimsy, moral fable, and nasty legend. The final time Tony enters the mirror, he transforms into Colin Farrell. This is where we finally see Tony for the bastard he truly is and Farrell is good, not great. The problem here is that Colin Farrell has too kind a face. It’s just hard to buy in that he sucks as a human being. He manages to pull it off but barely.

The entire film is wonderfully absurd but it also begs the question of whether Gilliam has problems with women. Here, Valentina is constantly objectified as a sixteen year old and serves mostly as a plot device. Her plight propels the narrative forward but she doesn’t really hold any other weight. This is what holds me back just a bit from the film. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a very good film but some tweaks to the script could’ve landed Gilliam firmly back on his feet. The more I searched my feelings on this film, I came to realize that Valentina and Parnassus specifically are stand-ins for The Man Who Killed Don Quixote and Gilliam himself. This story is really about an old man questioning his choices and loyalties on the eve of losing what he cherishes most.

The film is visually extraordinary and brimming with ideas — perhaps too many ideas. It’s dark, daunting, and proves Gilliam’s tenacity as a filmmaker. It won’t win any converts but it shows an artist willing to try and dig himself out of a hole that has consumed him for over a decade.

Next week, The Zero Theroem. Until then, love each other.

Ramy Season 2 – An American Tale

Hulu has something special on their hands with Ramy. We’re two seasons in and I don’t think anyone who has seen the show is feeling patient about a third season — we want it now. The show has created such a unique blend of comedy and drama that it’s quickly established itself as a breath of fresh air. There is nothing else quite like it, save for Atlanta. It’s in these two shows that we can better understand America, it’s failings and the great promise that it still holds.

The first two episodes of season 2 give us a sobering look at what happens when we forget about our soldiers once they’ve returned home from war. Ramy finds himself at a spiritual crossroads and he’s desperately seeking not only guidance but also affirmation that he’s a good person. He helps this soldier who at first is ignorant of the Islamic faith while also condemning the religion and its followers because of the horrors he experienced fighting overseas. Ramy brings him to the man he seeks guidance from, played by Marshala Ali. The soldier, begins to see the humanity and good spirits of these people, his new friends and ultimately decides that he wants to convert to Islam. It’s here where things get dicey. Their place of worship is under constant protest from others who are still ignorant of the teachings of Islam. The soldier cannot abide this and attacks one of the protestors. The nuance involved in creating these scenes is nothing short of extraordinary. In a few moments, Ramy has shown us all sides of the argument — presented to us for examination and hopefully introspection.

The show eschews plot in favor of digging as deep as possible into all of the characters we meet. Ramy may be the title character but we are treated to whole episodes devoted to supporting characters. The show focuses on his sister Deena, his mother Maysa, his father Farouk and even his uncle Naseem. This is an effective tool in building the world from the inside out. It expands the show’s horizons and ours as well. Deena struggles with growing up while not only being Muslim but also a young woman in a doubly hostile world. Maysa struggles with her place in life and this pull from a part of herself that so badly wants to be helpful — even when she’s being increasingly offensive. Farouk is lost for much of the season as a man who has always supported his family and now being jobless. He’s being affronted by his own brand of chauvinism and ends up being rescued by a rescue dog. Farouk’s story in particular was a real treat this season. Then we have the brash and incredibly offensive Uncle Naseem. This season reveals that Naseem is a closeted gay man which illuminates his daily outward persona as a beard of the highest order.

We root for these people to find their way and the show walks a delicate balance between maintaining what is true to oneself while changing just a little bit in order to better fit in with today’s society.

Notice how Ramy himself hasn’t even come up yet? His story of course runs throughout the season but he is so lost and nearly beyond hope. He’s suffering from undiagnosed depression while constantly trying to fill the void with either sex or pats on the back. He doesn’t just want to get better and be better but he also needs to be told that he is better. It’s tough to watch. He gets so many things right but never quite addresses his lack of stakes in anything he attempts. Ramy’s problem is that he lets himself off the hook at every turn. He’s in love with his cousin and eventually cheats on his fiancée the night before his wedding. This is all horrendously selfish but upon the end of his wedding night, having gone through with his marriage and even taking his new wife’s virginity, he decides to come clean. It’s the single most fucked up slide into wrongheadedness that Ramy has ever engaged in. Mahershala Ali, Ramy’s now father in law, shows up the next morning and brutally takes Ramy to task. He’s so overcome with grief and anger that he almost physically hits Ramy. It is a testament to his inner strength that he withholds and leaves Ramy to his own dark thoughts.

I will always applaud a story that is unafraid to take its main character to task for their failings. There’s never any room for hero worship — that train of thought breeds bad stories. Here, Ramy reels from his family’s cutting remarks, to his wife leaving, to his brutal take down at the hands of his father in law, to the even more brutal take down at the hands of his cousin. Ramy ends up alone in the abandoned, shit covered car left by the homeless soldier he tried to help earlier in the season. He’s adrift with nowhere to turn. It’s sad but deserved. I, for one, cannot wait for season 3 to see if Ramy can pull himself out of this whole he has put himself in.

Ramy provides us as American a story as can be. One full of humor and drama in equal measure, just like our own daily lives.

Next week, let’s tackle Edward Norton’s film adaptation of Motherless Brooklyn. Until then, love each other.