Three Films. Very Different. Each Worthwhile.

Like many of you, I often disappear into some form of art, especially when I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed. Right now, there’s plenty to help cultivate those feelings. My brain is as scattershot as ever and what I’ve dived into is equally discordant. I’ve been bouncing between old films on Criterion, documentaries, kids stuff, weird stuff, lots of horror, and some truly unique television. That’s just the visual medium. I’ve been writing nearly everyday. Weird, train of thought poems, short stories, this content, and a novel. It’s hard to focus on just one thing right now and I’ve chosen to ride this wave and edit as needed. I enjoy being busy. I more than enjoy writing — it is necessary to my sanity. I’ve also been bouncing between loads of different reading material — King, Connelly, Palahniuk, Hill, Rutger, Murakami, and more. I am about to embark on a twelve week series dedicated to the work of Terry Gilliam. That will start next Friday with a small intro to the series and my thoughts on Jabberwocky. I will then work, film by film, through his visionary career because I’ve recently had a much different experience with some of his films than I had in the past — art can be like that.

Today, in order to get the three-times-per-week format going, I’m going to quickly discuss a few smaller thoughts on some things I’ve recently taken in.

Three films. Very different. Each worthwhile.

I’ll start with the 1955 heist classic, Rififi, directed by Jules Dassin. It should be noted that the reason this film was shot in France was because Dassin was blacklisted by Hollywood for being a member of the Communist party. It happened so fast to Dassin that he was unable to finish directing his previous feature. The move to France and the distance from American content censors gave this film the room it needed to breathe. It’s alive and vibrant in a way that allows us to sense an entire world at play within the film.

It would be a disservice to Criterion if I failed to mention how pristine this print of the film is. I’m in near disbelief that this is a sixty-five year old film — it’s visually flawless. Ocean’s eleven owes everything to Rififi — there’s no way around that. The actors are all superb and the heist at the center of the film is stupendous. We are treated to nearly thirty minutes of necessary silence as we go through the entire heist. It blows my mind how incredible a feat this was to pull off — and boy oh boy, did they ever pull this one off. After all the planning and staging, this film explodes into violence as realistic mistakes and some ingenuity by the antagonists lead us to a bloody finale. We are left breathless by the end, wanting to watch this masterpiece all over again.

And now for something completely different.

I am not a fan of Harmony Korine’s films — they have never worked for me. This is the biggest reason I was hesitant to watch his latest film, The Beach Bum. With that behind us, and in the spirit of honesty, I was a little high the other night and decided to put it on Hulu. I was hooked from the first frame. This weird little film hinges on Matthew McConaughey’s performance as Moondog, a brilliant albeit lazy writer living a wild life off of his wife’s riches. Isla Fisher plays his wife and Snoop Dog plays his best friend. They smoke copious amounts of weed, drink like crazy, have sex with anyone they want, and more importantly, they live. The spirit of this film is infectious and digs its hooks into us with a rigid grip. There are two great cameos in this film, first by Martin Lawrence and later by Zac Efron, which are worth watching the film for on their own merit. Everything is heightened and legitimately stupid but the message is clear: Actually live your life and fuck the rest. Highly recommended.

Lastly, the future is here.

If you’re an Amazon Prime subscriber, there’s a tasty little treat for you this month: a film called, The Vast Of Night. This film is the feature debut of director Andrew Patterson and he is the real deal. Holy hell is this film great. It feels like the work of a young Steven Spielberg. Patterson’s camerawork is nothing short of extraordinary — it literally dropped my jaw on a few occasions. The film makes great use of dialog to allow us into the lives of the characters and understand their relationships, tics, and motivations. It’s natural and free flowing and above all, a masterclass in “show don’t tell.” The film is about two teenagers who discover a weird transmission over the phone lines in a small 1950s New Mexico town. Is it aliens? Is it a force of evil? Is it explainable? The film keeps the unease and tension building throughout its runtime and lands on a beautifully ambiguous ending. I loved every single thing about this film. Andrew Patterson is about to set the film world ablaze.

So this post is disjointed as hell and I apologize for that but this sort of thing will happen from time to time. I take in art at different levels sometimes. I will have more to say on certain subjects. This happens to be a Friday post but more often than not, when I post something like this (my version of a mailbag post) it will be on a Wednesday going forward. Fridays will be reserved for my long form projects. Gilliam first, then Lynch. After those two, I’m thinking Sofia Coppola and then Spike Lee and we’ll go from there. Again, Monday will be First Reformed. Enjoy the weekend (what’s a weekend?) and love each other.

Dispatches From Elsewhere Is About You, Me, & Everything In Between

It took a long time for me to come to terms with my thoughts and feelings on Dispatches From Elsewhere. I’m still grappling with the show and likely will continue down this path for some time to come. It’s rare for a show, for anything, to grip me so fully so quick. The show hooked me within five minutes and then continued to tickle my brain over the course of ten episodes. I was left shaken to my core at times, laughing at some more, crying for various reasons, and most often it left me feeling reflective.

What’s it about?

It’s based on a documentary from earlier in the decade titled, The Institute. The doc was about the Jejune Institute which roped people into playing a real world AR game/experience/experiment in San Francisco. Jason Segel and his crew transported the setting to Philadelphia and fictionalized the story. But let’s start at the start.

The story is about four people who could be you or me. In fact, we are told at various times that we should think of these people as us. Do we relate to them? Of course we do because there is a piece of each of these characters in every one of us.

The cast is universally phenomenal. Richard E. Grant kicks things off for us as Octavio, the narrator and presumably the man behind the curtain. He’s pulling all of the strings, or is he? The show takes so many twists and turns, playing with what is real and imagined, that we’re left wondering who Octavio really is. We find out, of course, and this is where Grant’s mesmerizing performance goes even deeper. He runs and runs and runs with wonderful dialog and simple back drops. Most of his scenes are focused on his face, speaking directly to the camera, and Grant never lets us down.

Jason Segel plays Peter, who could be seen as our main main character. He’s depressed and sleepwalking through life. He likes and dislikes nothing. A tabbed flyer changes his life and we watch Peter continue to live underwater until he decides to begin swimming. We watch and wait for Peter to take a chance on new things — on living a real life. There is pure joy and crippling heartache. There is a whole lot of bullshit with Peter and his comeuppance is shockingly honest. This role and entire project from Segel is magnificent to behold. Rarely do we see an artist being so naked and honest on screen. And yes, the fourth wall is broken in ways we’ve never really experienced before. I don’t want to spoil too much because this show is best taken in completely blind.

Eve Lindley is the second of our core four we meet. She is instant charisma. Her character, Simone, comes across as a risk taker and a no-fucks-given player of this game but oh do the layers get pulled back on her. There are LEVELS to Simone. She is fierce and vulnerable in a moment. Eve Lindley is a revelation. I would expect offers to be flying her way like a ticker tape parade. She is THAT good. Simone, even when she thinks she has everything figured out, still has much to learn — and us along with her. Her scenes, late in the show, with Janice are tremendous. It’s fun watching her go toe to toe with Sally Field.

Speaking of Sally Field, between this and Maniac, we may have to do a Sally Field appreciation post. Wow, is she still bringing the heat. Janice is the heart and soul of this group. She is optimism in the face of the opposition. Janice’s home life is incredibly difficult yet she exudes warmth and a shock of spirit the group would otherwise miss. She asks important questions and proves her worth to the group countless times — even when they’re taking her for granted. Janice is the hope inside all of us. She has a few scenes in the second half of the show with Andre Benjamin that will produce crying fits.

Last but certainly not least is the character I most identified with, Fredwynn. Played with give-him-all-the-trophies precision by Andre Benjamin, Fredwynn is the hardcore player. He’s the guy too smart for everyone around him and sometimes even himself. Fredwynn is always searching for more and cannot take things at face value. He’s a detective’s detective. He’s the bloodhound with a Mensa membership (or not, lol). Fredwynn is the one to drive the group ever forward. I would put Andre Benjamin in any and every project I could ever think to produce — he’s just that good.

And now you may be wondering why I chose to highlight the actors and their roles — and you’d be correct to wonder this. These are the five main roles and the five main actors. There are more roles worth discussing and more actors worth applauding. There are plenty in the crew who deserve recognition. We could discuss how personal this show feels at all times partly because of the dreamlike scenes sprinkled throughout the proceedings. This show is shot with a mixture of standard camera placements and shots and then super-saturated shots, odd angles, slow motion, fuzzy cameras and visually interesting focuses. They use inspired music cues to mix up our feelings and then they cut those cues off to further alter our inner balance. All of this is effective — the intent lands with force.

The entire production comes together to create something extraordinary — unlike anything tv has seen beforehand. It plays with our perception of reality and shades that perception constantly. But I focus on the characters and the people who played them because that is what Dispatches From Elsewhere is really about — everything else is window dressing. This show, this wonderful work of art is, above all, about you.

It’s about us.

Next week, I tackle the film, First Reformed. Love each other.