Tag: fiction

My Week Striking Out by Failing To Watch Anything Good And Instead Watching The Little Things

I intended to watch some Wong Kar Wai this week and failed. I also intended to watch some Wim Wenders and failed at that as well. I did decide to watch the film, The Little Things, on HBO before it left the service and that definitely counts as my third strike. What an aggressively mediocre experience. I know I try to stay as positive as possible on this page and guess what? That IS me being positive. It’s such a hackneyed, slapped together production. The film is obsessed with procedure while having no knowledge of said procedure. The film has no ending and this has noting to do with (SPOILER ALERT) not solving the murder. I don’t care about that. Leaving a mystery open ended is fine and often allows the viewer to chew on something for time to come. I love it when a film gets it right. Take Fincher’s film, Zodiac, for example. They couldn’t possibly solve the murders because the real life perpetrator was never apprehended. Yet, that film still left us with plenty to chew on while nailing every other aspect of the case.

But that’s David Fincher. He’s always going to get the details correct.

This film is so aggro in painting Leto’s character as the villain all while ignoring the simple fact that he couldn’t have possibly been the killer. The filmmaker in question openly admitted that he had never decided whether Leto was or wasn’t the killer. Um what? You’re the motherfucking writer, my guy — you HAVE to know. Leto questioned him on this to a shrug and a, “you decide,” from the filmmaker. Great, just great. What they did do was litter the film with “clues” suggesting he was and “clues” suggesting he was not. What this “technique” accomplishes is only the muddying of waters. If you litter your story with ways a person could not possibly be a killer, guess what, he CANNOT BE THE KILLER. The rest is fake bullshit serving to throw us off the scent. It is downright idiotic. Like, I’m really angry about this because it is just so fucking stupid. The film never gets off the ground because there is literally no killer — they never bothered to write one. Does that make sense? Every film, every work of fiction, is a construct. When you fail to fully construct the world around your main characters, you’ve failed and the audience knows it.

But that’s enough about that.

My wife and I also watched the Golden Globes because we like to bet on who can guess the most correct answers. She wins every year but neither of us score high enough for bragging rights. My thoughts on the winners and losers? I don’t care. I loved Nomadland and was happy for Chloe Zhao. The moments I latched onto were when the winners’ families went nuts. That’s what these things are really about. I couldn’t care less if I ever won an award. Sure, it’s a nice feeling to have someone tell you that they liked your work — that proves you made a connection and connection is what it’s all truly about. The moment I would cherish is for my family. Knowing how much they love me and seeing the pride and excitement, that would be cool. My parents, specifically, would love it and I would be happy for them. Seeing the daughter of Minari’s director say, “I prayed, I PRAYED,” was THE moment for me. She was so damn proud of her papa. Sudeikis’ speech was great too and Cheadle taking a cue to accent Jason’s point was comedic timing perfection.

This has been my report on the awards ceremony of this past week. I hope this makes it on, “You Heard With Perd.”

As for the rest of my time, I’ve been writing a ton. Ultimately, I did decide to work on two projects at once. My collection of childhood stories is nothing more than getting them all onto the page for the first time. The next step will be to shape them and determine exactly what I wish to say about them and life in general. For now, the stories are being written as plain as possible and I’ve already outlined my crime thriller. I’ve known these characters for years and three of them have already been featured in a short story. I’m excited to get started and more than anything, to see where these characters take me. I always allow this to happen and for me, it’s always best. Roughly outline the basics of a plot and then allow the characters to dictate what actually happens. Often, the outline barely resembles the finished product but it’s purpose is only to fire the starting gun. Start the marathon and then provide small doses of water throughout the test of endurance.

For next week, there are a few films I’d like to see and give my thoughts on. Films like Volition, Saint Maud, and maybe I’ll get to a Wong Kar Wai or a Wim Wenders. No promises.

Until then, love each other.

Color Out Of Space – Two Cages For The Price Of One

Sometimes everything clicks in a film — the stars align in the exact right way and you’re left with a cosmic masterpiece. Richard Stanley’s adaptation of the H.P. Lovecraft story, The Color Out Of Space is exactly this phenomenon. It is a film firing on every single cylinder, providing the viewer with an out-of-body experience like no other. Stanley has always been an interesting writer and filmmaker but I have no qualms with declaring this effort as his greatest to date — it knocked my socks off.

It starts innocent enough, like many other smaller budget horror films before it, spending its early runtime easing us into the lives of a family fleeing life in the “big city.” Seriously, Cage describes their previous residence as just that, and it’s a howler of a line. In fact, after fifteen minutes, I wasn’t sure I was even going to like this film much. The family dynamic was hokey and Cage himself was fine — nothing special. What kept me going was how beautifully shot this film was. It is gorgeous. Soon, a meteor of sorts crashes right near the farmhouse the family now lives in and from here, the film gets weird — like, really weird. The meteor is of some unexplained cosmic design and begins to produce colorful flowers all around. These aren’t normal run-of-the-mill flowers or colors — everything is heightened. Soon, strange insects begin to appear and soon after that, people begin to get infected by this new strangeness. The film takes off like a rocket from this point.

We’re treated to a few extraordinary scenes with Tommy Chong as a local whose had strange visions of what is to come. He’s the harbinger and he’s magnificent in his small role. The slow burn of the film is over and the fire is raging. Nicolas Cage quickly goes from fine to odd in the way only Cage can. It’s here where we begin to see Cage’s character fighting his own infection. It’s taking hold of him and in the process, Cage has created two distinct characters. Not many actors can go over the top like Cage can and it’s become a bit of a recent joke in his career. Here, he is in top form. Two Cages for the price of one is only the beginning.

From a technical standpoint, Richard Stanley takes off as an artist as well. The sound design is impeccable. He focuses on all of the little things, helping us to sense the horrors that await us. The shot composition and cinematography pull every last ounce of feeling from each scene. The score, for its part, is equally wonderful. You add this up and include a central Nicolas Cage performance that truly requires a buy-in and you have something unique on your hands.

For the record, this film won’t be for everyone but it was definitely for me.

Back to Cage because this film requires him to go as big as possible and at about the seventy minute mark, Cage goes completely supernova. I’ve seen Cage do this before, sometimes much more effectively than others (most recently in the awesome, Mandy) but he has never been more effective with it. It is an astonishing performance from him. And shortly after this Cage all but winks at the audience and proceeds to go super-supernova because why the hell not? I stood up and clapped. The audacity of the performance is one for the ages. The craziest aspect of Cage this time out is how necessary his Cage-y-ness for this story. Stanley requires it from his leading man and Cage delivers in spades. What they created together is a horror film for the ages, one of the best, if not the best Lovecraft adaptation, and a film destined for my year end best list.

I loved it. Loved it, loved it, loved it.

Next week it’s time I tackled my thoughts on my favorite show on Netflix, Dark. Until then, love each other.