A clouded future
Looking through billowing smoke
Desperate for air
Tag: writing
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.
Gilliam Friday #8 – The Brothers Grimm & Tideland
It cannot be overstated how much the struggles of trying to get The Man Who Killed Don Quixote made weighed Terry Gilliam down. It was an anchor attached to his neck, dragging him under the surface. I cannot help but sense that his immediate post-Loathing efforts were of the flailing variety. The man could not have been in a good head space. He still managed to get two films released in 2005 though, so I guess that’s something to write about.
As for the films themselves?
Let’s start with The Brothers Grimm. I’ll keep it short because the less said about this film, the better. When I first saw this in 2005, I remember liking the film. It wasn’t my favorite Gilliam but after seven long years, it was nice to have something new from the filmmaker. Grimm boasts some nice trademark touches. The production design is stylish and grimy in all the right ways. Heath Ledger is awesome in this. He’s so earnest and funny — love his performance. Matt Damon, however, feels wrong. It’s rare to say that about Damon because he is seemingly an actor capable of doing anything but here he just feels out of place and miscast as one of the brothers. The rest of the film follows suit. What on paper should be a slam dunk for Gilliam, ends up looking, sounding, and feeling like something coming out of a blender with the top off. Reimagining the Grimms as grifters is an idea I have no problem with. Their stories are perfect for this type of riffing. The problem is the film lacks focus. There’s a disconnect with tone. It veers wildly from horror to comedy to drama and can never justify these drastic shifts. Granted, this is typically the hardest thing for a film like this to nail down but it still leaves us feeling disappointed. Looking back, it makes sense for the film to be as unfocused as it is, Gilliam was reeling creatively. Unfortunate.
And next?
Next up is Tideland, a film Gilliam also released in 2005. I cannot stress enough how much I loathed this film upon its initial release. It felt mean and dangerous in all the wrong ways. It felt dirty and irresponsible. Now, fifteen years later, I’ve watched it again. And it’s a lesson in how time and life and everything that comes with those two things can shift our perspective. I’ve never changed my mind more on a film. I was riveted by this film from the start. It is unrelenting and harrowing and dangerous as all hell. Gilliam veers into some of the darkest territory of his career. He’s bold and unafraid to tell this story.
And the story is?
It centers on a young girl whose parents are useless drug addicts (played by Jennifer Tilly and Jeff Bridges). Her mother dies and her father takes her to his old, dilapidated family home where he soon overdoses and dies. The girl, left alone, enters into a fantasy world of her own creation as a way of coping with her harsh reality. There is a family close by where a woman and her mentally ill brother live. Janet McTeer plays this woman, a stand in for the evil witch in stories like this, with an astonishing reckless abandon. She is the best thing in the film. Her brother who she cares for, is the subject of many of the most troubling scenes of the film. His relationship with the young girl is inappropriate to say the least. We feel scared for the little girl in every frame of this film. It’s exhausting for us to watch this for two hours but that’s the point, isn’t it? Gilliam ends up crafting a mesmerizing albeit difficult journey about abuse and neglect. Yes, the film feels dangerous and at times irresponsible but perhaps that’s just us projecting our own feelings on the film. We have different and more hopeful and naive world views when we are younger. By the time we enter middle age, we’ve seen the horrors this world holds and it hardens us. We are enlightened to the harsh truths of society. Tideland feels like Gilliam exorcising a demon and reclaiming at least a piece of his artistic career.
Next week, another case of an unfortunate and disastrous film production. That’s right, it’s The Imaginarium Of Doctor Parnassus. Until then, love each other.
Identity – A New Poem
There was a boy named Linda
whose parents wished for a girl.
He would say, I am right here
don’t get yourselves in a twirl.
*
I can be what you wished for
give me a chance to explain.
I just came out the wrong door
and I’m struggling through the pain.
*
He tried to make them happy
while pretending all the time.
His father grew more distant
saying, you’re no son of mine.
*
This knock sent Linda reeling
identity in question.
The girl they always wanted
was more than a suggestion.
*
His mother, she stood by him
as his change would be scary.
Linda then became a girl
and changed her name to Gary.
*
The Painter and the Thief – Compassion breeds Forgiveness
What does forgiveness look like? Can you quantify the power of redemption? Does it matter if it’s ever achieved so long as it’s attempted?
These questions ran through my mind while watching the documentary, The Painter and the Thief. I cried throughout this film and haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw it. It is a powerful statement on people being colored in shades and not just hard lines.
The story is about a woman named Barbora and a man named Bertil. Barbora is an artist and one night, after the close of a gallery show, two men break in and steal two of her paintings. The men are quickly captured and sentenced. The paintings are not recovered. One of the men is Bertil, and Barbora contacts him right away because she’s only concerned with recovering her paintings. What unfolds is one of the most beautiful portraits of the human spirit I have ever seen. Bertil is a drug addict and his addiction fuels his poor decisions in life. Once released from prison, he agrees to sit with Barbora in order for her to paint his portrait. They arrive at an agreement that he owes her this much. What neither of them could have known was the deep and soulful friendship that would blossom from the inciting tragic event.
When Bertil first sees his portrait, he breaks down in sobs — not mere tears, deep, uncontrollable sobs. He’s never seen himself from someone else’s perspective and this allows him to step outside himself for the first time ever. We are there sobbing right alongside Bertil. It’s here where the film truly shows us the power that art can possess. Watching someone, near hopeless, see themselves through someone else’s compassionate eyes is uplifting. We follow Bertil and Barbora through the subsequent years as their friendship continues. We are there with them through their daily struggles and small victories. Bertil tries so hard to kick his habit but his demons constantly get he better of him. At one point, he is nearly killed in a car wreck and Barbora is there with him throughout his long and seemingly impossible recovery.
For her part, Barbora has her own demons. They’re nowhere near the level of Bertil’s but still, we watch her struggle and it breaks our heart because she doesn’t deserve any of it. At first glance, it’s Bertil and his spirit that captivates us the most but by the end of the film, we are rooting for Barbora just as hard. I want as many people as possible to see this beautiful film because it will help them understand the struggle many of the more unfortunate of us contend with on a daily basis. This world could use as much compassion as possible.
This film strikes a decidedly personal tone for me because I’ve had a member of my family go through these struggles just like Bertil. Hell, in some scenes, this family member even resembles Bertil. He was such a nice person to be around but his demons always managed to get the best of him. I choose to recall the fond memories because this man was the father to my first ever niece (and then another one). No matter what, he’ll always be responsible for that gift — the greatest gift I have ever received. Unlike Bertil, this man eventually succumbed to his demons and left this world a little less vibrant for the rest of us.
We perceive time as a straight line but it’s only an illusion. Life spins us around, blindfolded, and then sends us off to conquer each day. It’s a miracle more of us don’t succumb. In the end, our lives are as precious as our time is finite and struggles or not, as long as we’re trying to make it all a bit more palatable, we’re going to be okay.
Next week, let’s talk about Ramey’s second season. Until then, love each other.
Gilliam Friday #7 – Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas
Holy hell. This one was wild. I knew it, sort of. Like many of Gilliam’s films, it had been quite awhile since I last saw Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. I liked it then and I like it even more now. Gilliam is just showing off with this film. Every single aspect is firing on all cylinders. Reading about all of the behind the scenes trouble that permeated the entire production is absolute bananas when the finished product came out this polished.
The film is based on Hunter S. Thompson’s semi-autobiographical novel of the same name. It took years of development to arrive at the point where they could actually begin filming this thing. Johnny Depp, for his role as Hunter/Raoul Duke, lived with Thompson for four months. He studied the writer’s habits and mannerisms. Nearly all of the clothes and props that Depp wears/uses in the film are actual items that Thompson owned. Depp even bought the red convertible and drove it non-stop before filming began. Hell, Thompson himself shaved Depp’s head to match his own male pattern baldness.
The film itself never lets up. If you’re in, you must be in all the way. I’ve never seen a film that made the viewer feel higher and more off balance in my life. It is exhausting. As Duke and Gonzo spiral further into madness we spiral along with them, looking for anything we can hold onto that will keep us tethered to our own sanity.
Gilliam’s trademark use of deep focus shots and extreme Dutch angles is more effective in this film than any other film of his to date. Where The Fisher King and Twelve Monkeys may be better overall films, I’d argue that Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas is Gilliam’s most accomplished effort as a director. I cannot imagine anyone else in the world being able to pull this off and tell Thompson’s story in Thompson’s way. There are narration passages that are so stunningly beautiful they feel like the words of God. These asides are also refreshing for us, the viewer, as a welcome respite from the drug fueled mayhem. It’s when the film goes introspective that it elevates itself to masterpiece territory. It perfectly and beautifully captures the haunting mania of Thompson’s writing. This is important because if you’re looking for a plot-centric story, this is not for you. The film wants nothing to do with plot and everything to do with studying a fugue state. Like I said at the top, You have to be in all the way.
My notes I took during the film (I watched it 2-1/2 times in three days) make no sense. I couldn’t help but laugh as I sifted through all of the WTF’s and underlined words like: insane, nuts, lol, what the actual fuck, etc. As a comedy, the film works. It is insanely hilarious and Depp gives one of the best performances of his career. He delivers his lines like a typewriter punching words onto a page. It’s perfect in its deadpan delivery of madness. Gilliam counters the deadpan delivery by using his camera like a drug addict along for the ride. It is never quite stable and makes us feel as high as Duke and Gonzo.
Speaking of Gonzo, Benicio Del Toro hovers over every scene like a devil on Duke’s shoulder. He’s constantly egging him on to further depravity. I wonder if Gonzo even really exists or if he’s the ego to Duke’s Id or vice versa. They both tell the same stories about each other and it often leads to hilariously uncomfortable results.
We could go further into the guts of the film and examine some of the outrageously over the top moments like the reptile hallucination or the flying Fellinis or the entire circus for that matter. Even Depp’s walk is outrageous. In lesser hands, this could all have devolved into indigestible bullshit but Gilliam fully commits and convinces everyone involved to join him. What we get out of the deal is a special film that has more than aged well and can provide many different types of film lovers something to chew on. Unless you’re that business man who happened upon Duke and a stranger in a bathroom doing lsd off the sleeve of his flannel. If you’re that guy, you’re life is ruined for having the curtain pulled back on a life you didn’t know existed.
The only bad thing about this film is that it marks the end of Gilliam’s prime. A prime that spanned thirteen years and five films. Upon this film’s release, Gilliam began shooting the Man Who Killed Don Quixote, a film that would plague him for twenty nine years and rob him of the momentum he had as an artist. From this point on, he struggled to regain it and we’ll see that in the next few weeks. There is always a story to tell. We’re in the second half now but there is still some wonderful places to go.
Next week, a double feature with The Brothers Grimm and Tideland. Until then, love each other.
Afterlife – A New Poem
I want to dream the dream of Gods
And for life to tell what it wants.
*
I want to drink from legend’s cup
And for the truth to become clear.
*
I want to wade in fields of sage
And for them to tell my story.
*
I want to run with the horses
And for the birds to cease judgment.
*
I want to be shot by Cupid
And for it to last forever.
*
I want my new dream to take hold
And for me to not ever wake.
*
Little Fires Everywhere — Kerry Washington FTW
Little Fires Everywhere had me riveted from episode one. This show (and book it was based on) has its finger firmly on the pulse of America right now. Unfortunately, a story about racial tension and white privilege will likely be timely for years to come but it cannot be overstated how much more intense this story is right now. It opened my eyes to things I know that I have done in my life, shed light on it, and now I can hopefully do better. What I’m talking about is how in the 1990s we white folk went through a period of trying to show how woke we were by openly engaging in casual racism and culture theft.
What am I on about?
How we collectively pretended that we didn’t see color. Sure, we meant well but that doesn’t make what we did the right thing to do. What we did instead is rob the Black community of their identity. We tried to whitewash everything about the Black community to make it seem more like our own. I’m ashamed to have done that and it’s born from ignorance. This is why I don’t immediately drag people who are ignorant. The thing with ignorance is that as long as it isn’t willful, it can be corrected. As long as a person is willing to listen and learn, they can evolve into a better human being. We are all ignorant to certain things, it’s how we deal with it when we become or are made aware of it that makes all the difference.
Little Fires Everywhere is all about white privilege and how white people, in their majority, have always tried to use their power in order to make things more white — even when they “mean well.” We can get into the nitty gritty of the plot details but that is really just window dressing to the real, actual themes of the show (and book). Instead, we should just focus on the marvelous eight episodes as a whole. I’ll point out that the cast is great, top to bottom. The kids all shine and give us a real depiction of adolescence and the emotional minefield children must navigate.
What I will focus on is our two leads: Kerry Washington and Reese Witherspoon. As Mia, Kerry Washington gives one of the greatest performances I have ever seen, film or television or even stage. Watch her face and body language in each scene — her pauses, her everything. It is a masterclass. She shows us the inner turmoil of her character, her eyes give us glimpses right into her soul. I’ve always been a student of an actor’s eyes and Kerry Washington gives such a nuanced performance of such shattering quality, it borders on supernatural. She is everything in this show. Of course, a great hero needs a great villain and Witherspoon brings the heat as Elena, Mia’s almost friend turned mortal enemy. Witherspoon adds layers upon layers to her character as she crashes before us, out of control due mostly to her dissatisfaction with how she’s settled into this life of privilege. She oozes the diabolical charm of someone who’s used to getting not only what they want but getting everyone around them to do what she decrees. She’s a top-notch foil.
There’s more to say but it would be nothing more than banging on about the same recurring themes. The filmmakers have created a work that is a more effective dissection of community race relations than a film like The Help could ever hope to achieve. This should be required viewing for everyone, especially high schoolers. It’s time the curriculum was updated. This work would serve everyone well and hopefully breed out the ignorance this show highlights.
I was and still am astonished by the eight episodes we received. Kerry Washington deserves every single acting award she could possibly be eligible for and then some more for good measure. Also, Elena’s kids are all assholes.
SPOILER ALERT
You’re mad at your mom so you burn your fucking house down? Grow up, you over privileged little shitheads.
That’s it for this week. Next week I’ll dive into the documentary, The Painter and the Thief. Until then, love each other.
Gilliam Friday #6 – Twelve Monkeys
I was sixteen when Twelve Monkeys came out in theaters. It blew my teenage mind. This was around the same time I was deep diving into David Lynch’s career. This was also the same time, for me, that I was diving into Quentin Tarantino’s young career. What I’m getting at is that Twelve Monkeys is a film I hold responsible for me wanting more from films. It’s a film that is both cool and smart. It’s distinctive. From this age on, I began devouring films from unconventional filmmakers. It’s part of why I love Gilliam so much. Great filmmakers and their films can change lives. They open doors and windows, hell, they kick the walls down. I still get more excited for films that will push envelopes and challenge world views rather than serve up cg fights. There’s nothing wrong with cg-fueled films, I just prefer the weirder ones.
Twelve Monkeys is the story of a prisoner in the future who is sent back in time in order to locate how a virus was created, dispersed and resulted in humanity being nearly wiped out.
Again, timely.
Bruce Willis is the hero of the film but it’s not the prototypical Willis role. At this point, Willis already had three Die Hard movies under his belt. Here, he is no classic hero. He’s confused and seen as crazy. He’s committed to a mental ward. We can see how electrified Willis is by this material. It’s wonderfully against type because we expect Willis to save the day but watching him bumble his way through time and space excites us on a deeper level.
Willis’ character, Cole, is the lynch pin of this film. He has a foot in both the future and the past. He is also right on the border of sane and insane. Gilliam smartly places two actors on either side of Willis, both up to their respective tasks. On one hand, we have Madeleine Stowe, who is sane and is trying her best to understand and help Cole. She is our tether and keeps the proceedings from devolving into madness. On the other hand, we have Brad Pitt, who is stone cold crazy. If it were up to him, everything would be chaos. Willis is caught in between, trying to understand while trying to solve the film’s central mystery. Who created the virus? Why? And how?
I had forgotten just how “Gilliam” this film’s future scenes were. The rest of the story washes over us so completely that we can easily forget some of the more delicate touches. The interrogation scenes are full of the futuristic antique motif Gilliam has become known for. They are also where Gilliam most effectively uses his deep focus shots to elicit paranoia and confusion. It’s like he’s winking at us and saying: I know how crazy this all is, do you?
The film is inspired by an older short film called, La Jetee, and the script was written by people other than Gilliam. This was his second straight film working from someone else’s script and perhaps that sets him free as a filmmaker. The Fisher King and Twelve Monkeys are his two best films. The aspect of this film that I appreciate the most is the control Gilliam had over his actors. A crazy story like this could easily go off the rails if the actors give in to impulse and all of them chew the scenery. Gilliam doesn’t allow that — save for Brad Pitt. He allows Pitt to feast on every scene he is in and it acts as a spark — electrifying the proceedings.
Twelve Monkeys also lands on a hell of a moral: Our meddling will be our undoing.
When the mystery is solved, the real perpetrators will surprise some. It is honest and shines a light on the things we do wrong as a society. But can we really blame ourselves? Our pursuit of perfection can be argued as noble but the side effects can be devastating.
Twenty five years later and Twelve Monkeys is still a wonder. Marvelous film.
Next week, Fear and Loathing. Until then, love each other.
Scenes From A Desert Town
The trees buckle and sway
Moving like the current
Dodging the bully wind
Desperate to stand tall
*
The dirt speck sent flying
Nothing to hold purchase
It follows a new path
In hopeful search of peace
*
The lizard on the wall
Its reactions are swift
Always searching danger
It will find its haven
*
The blood on the pavement
Predators plentiful
It could be the dry heat
Driving man to the brink
*