A Wednesday In February aka The Birthday Party Fiasco

The intention was to fill in with a few supplemental weeks before launching into the next Friday series. I was leaning toward the Coen Brothers. That’s eighteen films. That’s a lot. Now, I love the Coens, even their lesser works are wildly interesting but eighteen gave me pause. I’ve seen them all and know what to expect but four and a half straight months?

Maybe I’m just being a baby.

Still, I never sat down and put anything on. I was planning on watching Ghostdog but didn’t. I could’ve chosen Moonstruck or The New World — all films I own and love and have been meaning to do a rewatch on. I did none of it.

So, what do I have to talk about today?

I could talk about the impeachment trial but it will only serve to aggravate me. When you see a trial and on one side is a multitude of mild mannered, measured, plain spoken people while on the other side is a group of maniacs, yelling in absurd riddles AND THEN knowing that over seventy million people support the group of wannabe con artists, it’s tough to not fly into a rage myself.

Thennnnnnn what?

So yesterday, a friend of ours had a birthday. The celebration took place over skype. Wine, Prosecco, etc. was being consumed WHILE SETTING UP THE GET TOGETHER. Yeah, that went well. More booze. Tons of laughs. I kicked things off by getting stoned and quickly bowing out of the festivities to find something to watch. Maybe a Coen Brothers film? No? Too easy and obvious? Oh, I know, I watched Ghostdog or any of the other films I listed at the top. No, I did not. I put on Friday.

And you know this…man.

But it was on USA and the cursing was all edited and I cannot be bothered with that nonsense. Turned on HBO. Showtime. STARZ. The Spectrum channels.

“Give me something!” I yelled.

Boom. White Men Can’t Jump.

I love this movie. I love how cool Wesley Snipes is. I love how almost cool Woody Harrleson is. When I was thirteen and this film originally released, I was in love with Rosie Perez. The script is great and really nails the camaraderie of playing basketball — the competition (even with your teammate(s)) and the shit talking. I grew up playing a ton of basketball — lucky enough to have my own hoop and paved halfcourt area to play. Did I play in parks and the streets? Yep, did that too. I remember how annoying it was to see the chain link nets because kids would either destroy or steal the knitted nets. It also destroyed your ball. A friend of mine had a portable set up that we’d pull out into the street and run two-on-two tournaments all day long on Saturdays. White Men Can’t Jump captures all of this and it was a great two hours yesterday.

But the party!

Yeah, it was still going on and my wife had moved onto her second (third) bottle of wine. I was still pretty smacked — adding Prosecco to the weed will do that to you. I needed another movie.

Flip those channels. Flip, flip those channels.

Seven. Motherfucking. Psychopaths.

Here. We. Go.

Martin McDonagh is one of my favorite writers (and now) filmmakers. An Irish playwright going the Hollywood route and he’s three for three in my book. In Bruges is one of my all time favorite films. Go watch it. Do you hafta? Do you HAFTA? OF COURSE YOU DON’T FUCKING HAFTA! But you should. Seven Psychopaths was his second feature, smack dab in between Bruges and Three Billboards. Colin Farrell plays an alcoholic screenwriter. He’s suffering writer’s block. Sam Rockwell is his best friend, an actor, also the ring leader of a dog napping ring and he’s something else as well (spoilers). Christopher Walken is another friend who’s a part of the dog napping ring and oh baby does he have a past. Woody Harrelson is a gangster who is the victim of the latest dog napping. Tom Waits shows up as a weirdo with a rabbit and an ominous way of speaking. The dialog is insane (the eye for an eye debate is a favorite of mine). The performances are all great and Walken, my god, Walken is so good in this.

So that movie ended and the party finally began to wind down. But the booze wasn’t finished (and neither was the weed). My wife passed out across the bed. I watched a few episodes of Arrested Development.

And then at some point in the night, our chihuahua shit all over the couch.

That was my Wednesday, folks.

And now here I sit, on Thursday. Couch cushion covers out of the washing machine and drying. My wife is recovering and I am here trying to figure out what to write about.

You’re welcome, America.

Next Friday, hopefully something about film. Until then, love each other.

Sofia Coppola Friday #8 – The Recap

It’s the end of the line. I’m sad to let these films go for now but the beauty of art is that it’s never fully gone. Art exists all around us and even within us. Great art stays somewhere deep inside for us to draw from whenever we want or need. This project I’m embarking on with some of my favorite filmmakers has been even more rewarding than I initially thought. I’m learning things about myself that were previously hidden or unobserved. Growth is always a good thing.

With that said, let’s recap what we’ve learned from Sofia Coppola’s films.

First, she is a filmmaker who always has something to say. She makes you do the work but her message is ultimately always clear. Her films are never stagnant — they don’t just exist, they live. She is frequently inspired by depicting the reality of celebrity and tabloid culture. This makes a ton of sense considering she grew up in one of the most famous Hollywood families our generation has ever seen. Coppola is also consumed with dissecting the pitfalls of love and lust and the need to be loved. She also knows that love and obsession are completely different — this is a distinction a portion of our population routinely fails to make.

Sofia Coppola is a confident filmmaker. In fact, she’s one of the most confident filmmakers working today. Everything in her films always works in concert in order to present her specific vision. Her work is so real. How does she accomplish this? First, her dialog is always great and perfectly matched to what each film requires. This is no easy fete. She has to match her writing to the film’s tone and subject matter while also delivering something unique to not only each character but the actors portraying those characters. This is the secret sauce for a screenwriter and most aren’t nearly this good. It’s part of what makes Quentin Tarantino’s scripts so amazing. People jump to obvious conclusions about how “cool” it is and they try and mimic that. Hollywood then becomes inundated by bad imitators. No, the great ones, (and Sofia Coppola is definitely one of the great ones) match their writing with what is required and only what is required. This brings me to another aspect of why her films are so universally great: her ability to cast to the role. I will argue that this is actually a super power. Last, her needle dropping is on point. I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it bears repeating: she makes the best use of pop songs in her films. That’s it, nobody else does it better.

Now, what I’m most excited to get to is a realization I made as I rewatched her first six films. Sofia Coppola has created a trilogy of sister films. For the record, all of her films have aspects that either resemble or build upon previous work but there is more. First, On The Rocks is the odd one out. Being her newest film, it has yet to find it’s sibling. We’ll just have to see what Coppola cooks up for us in the future before revisiting. As for the other six, they break up like this:

The Virgin Suicides and The Beguiled are a perfect pair. Coppola revisits material dominated by men. TVS is based on a book written by a man and The Beguiled is a remake of a film starring Clint Eastwood. Coppola takes these stories and either reframed them around the women involved or alters the focus so we concentrate on the women and their own daily lives. Both films are about young women living under strict rules while blossoming into adults. They are curious and sheltered but possess ferocious spirits. They will leave their mark upon the world.

Lost In Translation and Somewhere go hand in hand. Both films center around men who are at sea. Both men are world famous actors but at different points in their careers. In some ways, Somewhere feels like it could be a prequel to LIT in relation to their respective main characters. Both films are unafraid to explore the ennui fame can bring with it and the trappings it holds. They also each center around a hotel that serves as a sort of prison for its inhabitants. The characters are constantly searching for a way break out and run free and that metaphor cuts deep.

Marie Antoinette and The Bling Ring belong together. These two films are Coppola’s most celebrity obsessed. Both are based on true events and real life people. Both are stories of celebrity and tabloid and excess and depression. These two films get under our skin more each time we revisit them. She digs deeper into motives of why these people would choose to either do these things or live this way. They both also deal with the youth revolting against norms and then suffering the consequences set upon them by the populace.

This brings me to the end of this particular section of my project. What have I learned? Where my first filmmaker I studied, Terry Gilliam, unearthed new observations that make me think less of him as a human being, Sofia Coppola has only grown in my estimation. She is my favorite Coppola. I said what I said. Not only that but she has climbed the mountain and reached the summit. Sofia Coppola now stands shoulder to shoulder with David Lynch as my favorite filmmakers. I can’t choose right now. Perhaps we will have to do David Lynch next.

Now to the rankings:

7 – The Bling Ring
6 – The Beguiled
5 – On The Rocks
4 – Marie Antoinette
3 – Somewhere
2 – The Virgin Suicides
1 – Lost In Translation

Next week, we’ll lay the groundwork for the next chapter in this project. Until then, love each other.

Sofia Coppola Friday #6 – The Beguiled

We’re in the homestretch now and I’m getting sad. This little project has served as a reminder just how special a filmmaker Sofia Coppola is to me and my taste in film. Today we’re discussing her sixth feature film, The Beguiled. My wife and I raced out to theaters to see this upon release in 2017 and the film still holds this majestic power over me.

From the first frame, this feels like a bigger production than Coppola’s previous films, save for Marie Antoinette. I previously stated that I had discovered Coppola had created a trio of sister films and you’d think perhaps this one would fit with Marie Antoinette but no, The Beguiled is The Virgin Suicides if the Lisbons had better caretakers. The girls who live in the school resemble the Lisbon sisters to a great degree. They are sheltered and taken with flights of fancy and a curious nature. Nicole Kidman and Kirsten Dunst are the two women left in charge of these girls and they are both better equipped at not only caring for these girls but preparing them for the world they’re inhabiting.

Coppola sucks us into the story quickly with slow, measured shots, expanding the scope beyond the confines of the house. She uses expert level sound design to bring a totally natural soundscape, making us feel every creak of wood, chirp of birds, and buzzing of insects. What this does is create an environment for us to actually feel the heat and humidity of the south. She doubles down by focusing her camera on the willow trees’ sagging branches and the morning mist burning off of every surface. There is a dreamy quality to all of this. Almost like it would be a typical summertime coming-of-age story were they not in such close proximity to danger.

If you pay close enough attention, you’ll hear the sounds of cannon fire in the distance. Coppola often uses this as a cue to a slight turn in the narrative, letting us know that there is danger right there around the corner, no matter how safe and sheltered you feel. And it’s here where we quickly realize why Coppola was drawn to this material and what exactly she’s hitting out at. The Civil War backdrop is just that, a backdrop. Women have always existed in this world in close proximity to danger. They are never safe when men are around and holding at least a modicum of power. Danger is always closer than you think.

Colin Farrell, as the wounded Union soldier in their care, exudes a charming menace throughout the entirety of this film. He’s a silver-tongued devil who uses a cunning ability to read these women and girls and their desires for his own good. It’s in the moments where he doesn’t get what he wants that he quickly and harshly lashes out — the epitome of a man used to getting his way, no matter what. Kidman, for her part, is extraordinary in this film. Perhaps my favorite performance of her career. She shines amidst a stellar cast as an unflappable and quietly gargantuan woman in charge. She is calmly yet resolutely in control at all times. Specifically Farrell and Kidman again show off how well Coppola casts to the role. They are both perfect in this film.

As the film carries on and Farrell fully makes his villainous turn, Kidman is forced to brush aside an attempt at her own position from Dunst. I believe Coppola is commenting on how women sometimes are detrimental to other women in power and there is nothing a man likes more when challenged than seeing women become cannibalistic with each other — this is partly what has helped keep men in power for as long as any of us can remember. The film feels like a big time MeToo movement film even before the movement took hold.

As Kidman brushes the challenges aside, she asserts her own cunning to eliminate the threat once and for all. Back when we realized that a theme of the film was the close proximity women have to danger, we didn’t yet grasp that this particular blade cuts both ways. Farrell thinks he’s won but he lost sight of what has been happening around him. Kidman, again calmly and with precision, eliminates him with ease, thus restoring peace and order to her school and the girls’ lives. Where Farrell was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, these girls were actually a pack of bears and Kidman, their protective mama. I love how Coppola shows these women collectively standing defiant in the face of those who wish to dominate them. Kidman specifically is handing out great life lessons to anyone who will hear them.

By the time the credits roll, we’re ready to leave them be, knowing they will be just fine. This is the world of men — entitled, expectant, with false humility. Yet everyday life is moldable and the step-over into the world of women can be treacherous for men like this. I say good riddance to them and onward to a better future.

Next week, the brand new film from Sofia Coppola, On The Rocks. 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.