Thursday, February 2, 2017

Groundhog Day


In honor of Gateway Film Center’s 8th annual Groundhog Day marathon, this entry will be more than just a movie review. For the 8th year in a row, Gateway Film Center has put on one of the most intense and creative movie challenges I’ve ever heard of. If you can survive 12 straight viewings of Groundhog Day (over a 24 hour period), you are rewarded with 24 movie passes and, more importantly, bragging rights for life. Many have since asked me, “Why would you sign up for that?” It certainly was a tougher challenge than I anticipated, and for someone else that would have been an incredible waste of time, but overall I found that the rewards of going were well worth the experience. I hope I can do this one day with my own children.

In addition to my usual review of the film (which can be found below Post Viewing 12), I’ve included my journal entries from the event which I wrote during the 22 minute breaks following each viewing of the film. I’ve also included pictures and videos from the event to give anyone who hasn’t been a taste of the experience and as a memento for anyone who has. As some of you may have guessed, all of this material makes for a rather long review. True, this is the longest review to date, but still not nearly so long as watching Groundhog Day 12 times, so I hope you’ll give it a chance and enjoy!




“You can leave when you can pronounce ‘poetry’” 
—Anonymous

Post Viewing 1:
Groundhog Day remains my favorite romance film and one of my favorite overall movies. I make an effort to watch it every year around Groundhog Day. In fact, I’m already quoting the movie along with the veterans of this event because I’ve seen it 15 or 20 times before. In all those times I’ve never had any reason to watch it twice in a row though, so I’m really hoping this marathon doesn’t kill my love for such a great movie. So far I’m mostly excited, but I have a feeling that won’t last much longer. At first I was annoyed by people yelling out during the film and clapping, but I think this reaction was based on a typical movie-going experience where talking in the theater is rude and obnoxious. I have a feeling that by the end of all this, the audience’s jokes and clapping will become a source of comfort and a stimulus to keep awake. It’s time to go use the bathroom and prepare for round 2.

Post Viewing 2:
I’ve already done it twice. I checked my watch to see how much time was left (26 minutes remained) for the first time ever in watching this beloved movie. This could be a product of watching it twice in a row, or it might have something to do with the fact that it was after 3 am. I managed to notice something new in the film this time; after all these years I’ve never noticed the dancing, groundhog costumed people in the scene where Phil brings coffee to Rita and Larry. I think I’ll try noticing something new each time—it might make for a good distraction from the monotony? Yeah, let’s go for it.

The first half of the film seemed to fly by. The second half-starting somewhere around the time Phil starts pursuing Rita-was much, much slower. It probably has something to do with most of the montages coming in the second half. I also never realized how loud this movie was! I used earplugs for most of this viewing and I still thought that many of the scenes were too loud (the train, the car exploding, and plenty of just random loud noises).

Post Viewing 3:
I found a few more things I had never noticed in previous viewings: Herman is the name of the other armored truck driver (in addition to Felix) and there is an old man with a sign reading “blizzard” that is upside down before he fixes it.

While the last viewing highlighted the few scenes that I find weak in the film, this time I felt a greater appreciation for my absolute favorite scenes. The scene where Phil is lying in bed with Rita as she’s falling asleep is particularly great. For some reason I felt more alert this time than the second viewing. The 2 liters of Mountain Dew I just consumed probably had something to do with it. I kept myself entertained this time by counting the number of times Phil is slapped (it’s 10). I also identified the exact halfway point as the scene where Phil and Rita first sit down in the German restaurant.

Post Viewing 4:
How much longer do I have to sit here? Things must be getting bad and I must be getting bored because I am turning to math as my source of entertainment. The three-quarter mark of the film is the scene I love so much where Rita begins to fall asleep; it is exactly 1 hour, 13 minutes, and 30 seconds through the film. Things definitely drug this last time. 1 hour and 38 minutes felt more like 3 hours, especially that last half. Why is it so slow?!

I noticed a few new things again: the black bartender only has two lines in the film (when he twice asks Rita: “For you, miss?”) and when Phil is in the hospital asking to see the old man’s chart, the kid who he later saves from falling out of the tree is in the background with a broken leg. I had always assumed he saved the kid from dying.

Two male students in the row in front of me have taken to quoting almost the entire movie aloud. The movie is already becoming annoying enough without having to hear it parroted. I’m fighting to listen to the film instead, but I keep hearing their voices drown out Bill Murray no matter how hard I try. I really hope they are worn out after this viewing or I might truly go insane.

Post Viewing 5:
The struggle is real. The first half of the movie was a blur. I finally gave in and fell asleep for 13 minutes (or at least I know I made it to the halfway point and then woke up 13 minutes later). The fact that I am still not halfway done makes me want to cry. Meanwhile I’m experiencing some form of Stockholm syndrome where the song “I’ve got you Babe” has gone from maddening to something I felt the urge to sing along to; I must be losing my mind. For the first time ever, I’m dreading the next viewing.

Post Viewing 6:
I can’t even write about this one beyond saying I was in and out of consciousness and the parts I was awake for featured a new peanut gallery that cropped up in the back row with an energy that was punch-them-in-the-face-level annoying. These people had to have taken speed, cocaine, pot, or snuck in late somehow; they are wayyyy too happy and excited right now. Needless to say, I hate them. The screen says we’re halfway done which means it’s been twelve hours. I have lost all sense of time in this room and the lights coming on and turning off feel like their own days and nights. The sun must be out by now but I’ve yet to go outside on a break. I’m dreading the next three viewings as much as I did the last 6.

Post Viewing 7:
No. Not again. Please make it stop. My head feels foggy when I watch the movie. I was having a hard time remembering which parts of the movie had happened and which were still to come. The film’s rhythm of fast and dragging parts is now set in stone. While I watched, I rooted to just make it past the each lull. I fell in and out of consciousness again this time, and yet somehow I managed to notice a new aspect of the film: Rita is wearing a ring on a necklace at the party. You make choices and you live with them (and boy am I living with them).

Post Viewing 8:
Long gone are the days when I never looked at the clock while watching this film, or where it took an hour at least. It was only 8 minutes into this viewing that I checked my watch, hoping for some reason that the film was accelerating at a faster pace than the last 7 times. Even the much faster beginning is starting to drag. My friend and I had to resort to counting the number of times “Ned” was said in a viewing, prompting the audience to yell “bing”; the number is 18, though there haven’t been many “bings” since about the fourth viewing. Most people around me are asleep. This was the first time I made it through a viewing all the way since the 4th viewing. I’m still trying to notice new things but didn’t catch any this time. Anything different is good.

I can’t believe that before this event I used to consider the scene where Phil drives off the cliff funny. It’s so loud that I am starting to dread it every time.

 The Stockholm syndrome with “I’ve got you Babe” is gone. Now I can’t stand it worse than ever.
My excitement over the fact that there are only four viewing left lasted all of one second—the time it took me to realize there is still a full work day’s amount of time left.

Post Viewing 9:
The film somehow managed to go by even slower at the end. I swear there’s some kind of trick going on where they’ve slowed down the last half hour to make this go longer. I passed out again but only for a short time thanks to the truck explosion. They should make an alarm clock with the noises from that scene.

There’s a potential for hope now. I think if I can just make it through this next one I’ll be okay.

If I never hear the word “prognosticator” again, it will be too soon.

Post Viewing 10:
It’s amazing how even after 10 viewings the beginning half flies compared to either of the last two quarters. How can 49 minutes go by so much faster than 24.5? How is that possible? It feels like there are movies within the movie.
People are noticeably beginning to smell. The shower I took right before this feels like a lifetime ago.

Post Viewing 11:
Groundhog Day is no longer a movie; it’s become life as we in this room know it. Cheering for Pork Chop and laughing at Larry’s bad jokes are now as much a part of our routine as getting dressed in the morning. Somehow these scenes and others like them have been recycled and are funny again. Everyone in the theater is so excited to be done that there was a huge spike in the audience’s energy; everyone is feeding off each other’s energy, making our group energy greater than any individuals. 

This last viewing was inexplicably fun and fresh. Everyone was fully into the movie, even more than the first viewing because we are all veterans now; the “bings” were back, chants of “Pork Chop” echoed throughout the theater, and there was an endless stream of jokes (the best of them earning the title of this review).

Groundhog Day is fun again, and I’m hoping the next viewing is even more fun than this past one. I’m so glad that there’s a chance I’ll leave this marathon with my love for this movie intact.

Post Viewing 12:
The last viewing was much like the 11th, though not quite as good. The 11th was purely excitement for the prospect of finishing, while the 12th saw some exhaustion enter as people tried to maintain their energy levels from the 11th. These last two viewings made this whole experience worth it and I would not have fully appreciated them without the misery of viewings 5-9. We did it. We survived. It is the end of a very long day. Now to go sleep for 12 hours.

***Below is a video taken from the eleventh viewing. The purpose of including this video is not to see the movie, but to appreciate the audience's level of interaction during the marathon so apologies for the poor visual quality. I would also like to note that the first few moments are pictures of the screen during intermission. The people at Gateway were clever and kind enough to include a countdown inbetween each viewing.





Groundhog Day: The Review
                In doing the Groundhog Day Marathon, my greatest fear was not that I wouldn’t complete the challenge, but that by completing it I would have to sacrifice my love for such a terrific and lovable film. Thankfully this was not the case; in fact I have a deeper appreciation and love for the movie than ever before. The day after the movie marathon I actually found myself in a weird withdrawal that I can only attribute to how engrained the film must have become in my psyche. There’s also something to be said for the comradery that is formed when you go through an experience like that. I hope that by sharing my experience at this event and this review will encourage anyone who hasn’t seen the film to check it out, and who knows, maybe even persuade someone to try out the Groundhog Day Marathon for themselves!

Characters/Acting
Bill Murray (Phil Connors): As much as I enjoy Bill Murray as the lovable, crazy Carl in Caddyshack, Murray is at his best in the role of Phil Connors. Similar to his character in Scrooged, Phil undergoes a transformation from an egotistical narcissistic to a compassionate and genuine romantic (with plenty of character development in between). Murray is convincing as both “bad-Phil” and “good-Phil”, and while the audience is never really rooting against him, his ability to play both sides of the character so well is a testament to his range as an actor.

Bill Murray is in his comedic element when he’s sitting in the diner and responding sarcastically to each characteristic of Rita’s perfect man (Rita: “He’s not afraid to cry in front of me”. Murray: “This is a man we’re talking about, right?”). Groundhog Day also features the goofy side of Bill Murray that audiences have come to know and love, such as the scene where he kidnaps the groundhog Phil and pretends that it is driving the truck.

The highlight of his performance, however, comes towards the end of the film when he has fallen in love with Rita. There are a few lines in these scenes that could have come across as cheesy, such as: “The first time I saw you, something happened to me. I never told you, but I knew that I wanted to hold you as hard as I could.” Instead of cheesy, Murray delivers them as completely sincere, to the point where it’s hard to imagine that he hasn’t actually fallen in love with Andi MacDowell. As I’ll get to later in this review, the writing in this film is outstanding, but it only works because there is an actor with Bill Murray’s talent to pull it off.

Andi MacDowell (Rita): As an author’s note, I will fully admit that my review may be biased in favor of Andi MacDowell because quite frankly I find her to be one of the most naturally beautiful actresses I’ve ever seen, right down to her lovely South Carolinian accent. Viewing her performance as objectively as I can, I still think she is the perfect actress to play this role. Her charming and likable demeanor offers the perfect complement to Murray’s rough-around-the-edges attitude in the first half of the film and then develops into a heart-warming, on-screen chemistry. MacDowell’s strength, in particular, is her ability to express so much with her body language, especially her eyes. During all of her scenes with Murray, he does most of the talking, but MacDowell’s expressive face and sometimes flirtatious glances ensure that she shares the audience’s attention. It’s easy to say that Groundhog Day wouldn’t be Groundhog Day without Bill Murray, but I think that Andi MacDowell also adds to the film’s magic, especially with regards to the love story (even if she can’t properly pronounce “poetry”).

Chris Elliot (Larry): Elliot is mostly a side-character in the film, providing comic relief at moments or serving as a foil to the suave and confident Murray. Not much is asked of Elliot in his role, but he does a solid job with the part he’s given; he is particularly convincing as a stereotypical nerd who, try as he might, just can’t convince Nancy to give him a chance. Maybe try something other than “Wanna check out the inside of the van?” the next time, Larry.

Pork Chop (Man in hallway): I have never seen an audience cheer for a character in a movie theater with as much fervor as the Groundhog Day audience cheered for the beloved “Pork Chop”. Though he only has three very brief scenes in the film, how could I not throw some love his way? You go, Pork Chop!

Directing
Harold Ramis takes a creative and somewhat complicated story (written by Danny Rubin) and brings it to life in an equally creative manner. One of the most difficult challenges in directing this film must have been coming up with a way to show Murray living the same day over and over and let the audience feel Murray’s frustration without losing interest or becoming too annoyed (somehow I don’t think he had 12 consecutive viewings in mind for his audience). Starting each day with the clock flipping to 6:00 and playing the same Sonny and Cher song certainly helped the audience to relate to Murray’s building frustration. But Ramis kept even these scenes fresh as the views of the clock flipping and even the speed that it flips was varied, as was the method Murray used to destroy the clock in some scenes. Scenes and characters (like the diner dishes dropping or Ned running up to Phil) were also repeated to give the effect of Murray living the same day over and over, and they too were altered just enough to avoid boring the audience. Ramis executed these scenes flawlessly.

Another directorial aspect of the film worthy of praise is how seamlessly Phil flows from one Act to the next: first the egotistical Phil who discovers he is repeating the same day, then testing the boundaries of his regeneration by acting recklessly, to selfishly pursuing first Nancy and then Rita, followed by his depression over being trapped and finally to acceptance and genuinely winning the love of Rita. Each segment of the film is identifiable by Phil’s character changes, each of which has their own distinct feel, but through all of these stages the film never stumbles or lacks continuity.

Story/Writing
Harold Ramis and Danny Rubin were both screenwriters for the film, though it was Danny Rubin who wrote the original story. The idea of a man living the same day over and over is in itself an original idea—one which Hollywood has already taken to repeating in The Edge of Tomorrow—and both Ramis and Rubin deserve high praise for creating such a unique story.

An interesting concept is nothing, however, without a good story to give the film meaning. Groundhog Day’s love story is far from original—there are plenty of movies about a man who starts off as a jerk but reveals a heart of gold: Beauty and the Beast, The Breakfast Club, and His Girl Friday being just a few examples—but nevertheless it fits. The love story between Phil and Rita is an uplifting resolution to the otherwise grim story of a man trapped, essentially alone, is a reality he cannot even escape through death.

Ned Ryerson is a fun and entertaining side character. The scene where Phil pretends to be attracted to him is wickedly funny and his expression during the hug is priceless. His quirkiness also makes it easier to watch Phil repeat the same scene four times.
The bowling scene is perhaps the weakest scene in the film; while it does serve a purpose in showing Phil’s transition from confusion to mischief, it and the subsequent chase scene feel forced.   
The decision to show Phil trying and kill himself in a death montage is rather clever and I appreciate the concept of having him try in a variety of ways. This montage, as well as the slap montage, is also strengthened by its brevity, which keeps the film light and helps with the pacing.
One of the few lines that does not work is “Gosh, you’re an upbeat lady”. It did not take twelve viewings to expose this line as awkward and clunky. I’m not sure how this one made it past the editing room floor.  

Had Groundhog Day been a drama instead of a romantic comedy, the film’s ending could have seemed too rosy. Instead, both writers included comedic elements throughout the film (such as Ned Ryerson), which kept the overall tone of the film more consistent. As an audience member, I completely buy into Murray’s love for Rita, especially in the scene where he is lying next to her in bed and telling her about how much he loves her, even though she has fallen asleep and in the scene where he carves a snow sculpture of her face. “I know your face so well I could have done it with my eyes closes” would probably have come across as incredibly cheesy but with the right actors and the proper tone, the risk paid off. Instead, the scene shows the audience that Phil is completely committed to his genuine love for Rita despite having given up hope of escaping the same day. He has dedicated day after day, year after year, to his love for a woman he longer thinks can ever return his love; and yet it is his love for Rita that frees him in the end. Groundhog Day is a powerful story because it explores the themes of redemption through love, personal growth, and self-sacrifice; these themes, when told well, will always resonate with the best parts of our souls.

Conclusion: Groundhog Day remains the best romantic comedy I’ve ever seen. The chemistry between Murray and MacDowell is flawless and the movie’s tone successfully balances goofy comedy and a serious plot. I will continue to watch it over and over. That about sums it up for me. Thanks again to David Henderson for telling me about this challenge; I owe ya one, buddy.

Grade:

WRAP: 100%

Below I have included another video for those of you who enjoyed the first. Again, the video quality itself is not good, but the purpose is not to see the movie, but to appreciate the audience's level of interaction during the marathon.


Friday, January 27, 2017

Manchester by the Sea








************Spoiler Warning************

I knew very little about this film going into it beyond the fact that the story was about an uncle, Lee, who must take care of his nephew in the wake of his brother's death. Manchester by the Sea is less about Joe's death, however, than it is about Lee's struggle to cope with a tragedy from his past. Casey Affleck's performance is reason alone to see this film, but I was left wishing the film's writing matched its acting.

Characters/Acting
Casey Affleck: I will start by saying that Casey Affleck should (and probably will) win best actor at this year's Academy Awards. He carries this film with his portrayal of a detached, tortured, shell of a man whose only display of emotion is the rage he exhibits during the fistfights he is constantly picking.

Casey Affleck is especially good in the scenes where he is offered chances to rejoin society such as the woman on the phone and the woman at the bar who both try to flirt with him, Sandy's mom who asks him to come in for dinner, or Michelle Williams (Randi) who asks him to get coffee with her. Affleck's body language is a gateway into the soul of a man caught between torturing himself over his past and allowing himself to move on. Normally actors are to be praised when they convincingly display a wide range of emotions in a single character, but what makes Affleck's performance in Manchester by the Sea so impressive is how well he depicts someone struggling to contain their emotions. It's difficult to imagine him in real life as anything but Lee Chandler: a man tormented by the accidental murder of his three children eight years prior to the film.

Lucas Hedges: I was equally impressed by Lucas Hedges who plays Lee's nephew Patrick, enough that I am convinced that he too should take home an Oscar for best supporting actor. Typically an adolescent male who loses their parents and goes to live with a relative is portrayed as ornery, whiney, and annoying. Thanks to better than average writing and Hedge's talent, Manchester by the Sea avoided this dreadful cliché; the relationship between Affleck and Hedges was far more interesting than the rather exhausted coming-of-age theme. A lesser actor would have been dwarfed by Affleck's performance but instead the two formed an excellent chemistry which kept the audience entertained in the midst of an overwhelmingly depressing story.

 Hedges handles his emotional scenes with more subtlety and care than most actors his age (and many older actors for that matter), especially the scene where he endures a panic attack while trying to close the freezer. He is also very believable in the scenes where he must adopt a tentative demeanor in the face of his uncle's anger. This "walking-on-eggshells-" aspect of his character is a very realistic quality that is rarely portrayed on the big-screen. I look forward to future Lucas Hedges films and hopefully he's rewarded at this year's Oscars.

Michelle Williams: I don't mean to make the acting section of this review so Oscar oriented, but since the film was nominated for three acting awards recently, the topic merits some discussion. Having seen the film I'm surprised that Michelle Williams' portrayal of Randi was nominated for best supporting actress. I usually enjoy Michelle Williams and she will probably win in the near future, but she simply did not have enough screen-time to warrant an Oscar nom. Her best performance (called an "Oscar moment" by some) is excellent, but nothing out of the ordinary. One could argue that it's "just a supporting role" but Williams' character (and her performance) is simply drowned-out by Affleck and Hedges.

Directing
Kenneth Lonergan directed and wrote Manchester by the Sea. Usually when the writer and director is the same person, like Tarantino for example, I combine the two into a single category. I've decided to separate them in this case in order to briefly highlight some of the directing I appreciated in the film before moving on to the writing where I have much more to say about the film.
Dramas about everyday people do not usually require the same amount of input from a director as most other genres, therefore it's only fair that my assessment of Lonergan's directing be based on whether he did what was necessary to allow the film's story to be told. To that end, Manchester by the Sea is well directed. There are some beautiful shots of the New England countryside in the winter and the Chandlers boating, and the fire scene made for a shocking, albeit brutal, plot-twist. The bleak winter shots and the bitter cold effectively augment the film's dark tone. Lonergan also gives the audience a good sense of the people of the Manchester-by-the-Sea community: portraying them as somewhat gritty and yet a caring communal.

The film also suffers its share of weaknesses, however, most notably its score. Manchester by the Sea's score of mostly operatic pieces is an unnecessary distraction that sometimes competes with the film's tone. The audience's focus should be on Lee's constant struggle to keep his emotions under control, but this can be quite difficult when an aria is blaring from the surround sound. It was unclear whether Lonergan's intended purpose in using such emotional music was to create a representation of Lee's inner emotions which are fighting the emotionless mask he wears, or if the music's emotion was meant to enhance whatever emotion was taking place in the scene (as was certainly the case and to great effect in the scene where Lee attempts to kill himself). Either way, the film's score should have been relegated to the background more and perhaps removed from some scenes entirely. It is also worth noting that the film's pace, which is an area of both writing and directing, was too slow, even for a serious drama, and I found myself checking my watch 5 or 6 times during the film. Overall, the film's directing accomplished what it should have; mainly, getting out of the way and allowing the story and the acting to drive the film.

Story/ Writing
Manchester by the Sea's story was in large part a success (if you sense a "but" coming, you're not wrong). Lonergan's story explores a level of human suffering that I haven't seen since The Deer Hunter. What appears on its surface to be the tragic story of a man losing his brother and a son his father is really just window dressing for the death of Lee's three children. Lonergan also cleverly disguises this inner tragedy through the dialogue. When Lee shows up to Manchester-by-the-Sea to tell Patrick of his father's death, the hockey coach refers to him as the Lee Chandler in a tone of awe, as does the vice principal's secretary. This suggests to the audience that Lee is a hometown legend, perhaps a high school hockey phenom, rather than a man who is infamously known. The plot twist itself catches the audience completely off-guard. After watching Lee casually trudge through the snow to the gas station and back, no one is prepared for the shocking scene of his house burning down with his children inside and his wife screaming as she struggles to save them. The methodical buildup and then sudden reveal of this haunting scene is tremendous writing and it might be enough to capture best original screenplay if the film comes up short on best picture and directing (as I think it will).

Unfortunately, the scene of the house burning down is in many ways the climax of the film. The audience now knows why Lee is unable to function socially and why he is so void of emotion, even upon the news of his brother's death. The audience also understands why his wife left him and why he chooses to work as a janitor away from his brother and nephew. By this point in the film, the audience realizes why returning to Manchester-by-the-Sea is so difficult for Lee and the reason he doesn't want to stay with his nephew. All that remains for the second half of the film is continued exploration into Lee's suffering and resolving the living situation between Lee and Patrick.

Here comes the "but" you've been waiting for. The second half of the film is where the writing takes a turn for the worse. As the film continues to build towards a resolution the question in the audience's mind becomes "how are two people who obviously care so much about each other going to still live together when neither wants to uproot themselves?" Lee can't deal with returning to the town that reminds him of the horrible act he can never forgive himself for and Patrick has more than just a typical teenager invested in where he lives. So how can this conflict be resolved? Well it turns out that apparently it can't, at least not beyond Lee saying "I can't do it, but I'll have a spare bedroom so you can visit". Seriously? A movie that had such a unique and creative twist earlier in the film, that spent over an hour hours building towards a resolution, can't do better than "I can't beat it"?  Disappointing.

 Another weak point in the writing was the scene with Patrick's mother. While it's always a treat to see Matthew Broderick, I'm not sure what this scene achieved that wasn't already established through the mother's e-mail relationship with Patrick. She's hasn't seen her son in years but is now making an effort to re-connect, except due to nerves and an inability to cope with her own past she is not ready. The former we already know from the fact that she's emailing him, and the latter isn't particularly relevant to the story. So what if she's struggling with her own inability to cope with the past, she's hardly an important character for the audience to sympathize with and we already get more than enough of this from Lee. Many plausible explanations for this scene come to mind but none that justify such a clunky scene.

I liked the use of Joe's character as a means to bring Lee and Patrick together and as a window to their past relationships. I don't think the audience is meant to feel sympathy at his loss as most of his screen-time follows his death and it's difficult to build an attachment between an audience and a character when that character is already deceased.

The character of Silvia (girlfriend number 1) seemed to serve almost no purpose in the film other than to establish that Patrick had two girlfriends. Was this fact even necessary? All having two girlfriends seems to achieve is either that he's popular and/or that he's somewhat of a sleaze. The audience already knows he's cool because he's a star on the hockey team and he's a likable character. The sleaze element does establish that he's not perfect, but the audience already sees this when he gets in a fight with another hockey player prior to Lee showing up. If anything, having two girlfriends who don't know about each other is an unnecessary stain on an otherwise likable character.  

Conclusion:
Manchester by the Sea is by all accounts a good film, even an academy award winning film in my view. Its acting is easily the best I've seen in what amounted to a very weak film year and the director has correctly made it the focus of the film. I was disappointed in the film's ending and the pacing of the film, and as a result its score suffers in my view (A reminder though that this is not an educational grade where everything below a 70 is borderline failing, but a true 1-100 score.)

Grade:
WRAP: 70%

Author's Note:
My friend and fellow cinephile Mr. David Henderson is convinced that the ending of the film was meant to convey to the audience that Lee plans to kill himself. He bases this theory on several elements, mainly 1) while bouncing the ball with Patrick, Lee tells him to "let it go" down the hill, perhaps symbolizing his own decision to let go of life, 2) he tells Randi "I can't beat it", perhaps referring to life itself, 3) we never see Lee pick out the apartment he says he's moving to, perhaps evidence that there isn't one because he doesn't actually plan to go back to Boston, and 4) he tried to kill himself previously.

While I would prefer this ending to the more obvious ending, I don't buy it for several reasons: 1) when he is bouncing the ball is right after burying his brother and it seems like he just loses interest in it, which seems not out of the ordinary, 2) The "it" he is referring to is the town itself, which he has been battling ever since he returned and he is anxious to get away from (hence the title of the film giving the town its deserved significance), 3) he still tells Patrick that he's looking for a place with a second room so Patrick can come and visit. Why put this in there at all then if the audience is meant to understand that he will kill himself. Wouldn't this be significantly muddying the issue? I think so, 4) the film ends as it begins with Lee and Patrick going back to the sea where they fished and this is the close to the story's loop, 5) it's been 8 years since he tried to kill himself with 7 of those being with him living alone in Boston. If he were going to kill himself he would have done so before now, especially before reconnecting with his nephew.


But what do you think of David's theory? The ending as a whole? Let me know with your comments below!

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Rogue One






****************** Spoiler Warning *******************

When it was first announced that Disney would be making three independent Star Wars films, I was unsure how to take the news. A part of me feared this could be another Hobbit situation where the studio was dragging out a franchise solely to make money, but when more information came out about the film's story, including the news that Darth Vader would be returning, my expectations grew (rebellions, it seems, are not the only things built on hope). After the damage done by the prequels, Rogue One has restored my faith in the Star Wars franchise in a way that even The Force Awakens could not.

Characters/Acting

Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones): Overall I enjoyed the character for what she was: a standard sci-fi/action role. Rogue One had many more action scenes than The Force Awakens and dedicated less time to developing its characters. Jyn Erso's weaknesses as a character can mostly be attributed to the writers' decisions but not entirely (I think this sacrifice was justified, but more on that later). Jones' was likable enough and I thought her performance strengthened as the film progressed, but she did not captivate me the way Daisey Ridley did with Rey or Carrie Fisher did with Leia. Both Ridley and Fisher endeared themselves to me early on in their films in a way Jones never did (especially Ridley). In the Story/Writing section of this film I'll discuss why that not only worked for this film but made sense. On the whole, Felicity Jones continued Star War's winning streak of casting strong female characters but, like Natalie Portman, her performance was hampered by a lack of development.

Cassian Andor (Diego Luna): Although I thoroughly enjoyed K-2SO (or "K-2"), Cassian was my favorite addition to the Star Wars universe. Unlike Jyn, the writers left more room for Cassian to develop and Luna thrived off of the opportunity. If both Cassian and Poe are supposed to resemble Han Solo as characters, this is a case where Rogue One's character came out ahead (at least so far). Cassian's willingness to kill Rebel allies for the sake of his mission brought some much needed darkness to the light side of the force. Cassian's inner turmoil over whether to kill Galen Erso gave him more room to grow as a character than Jyn's more cliché and simplistic struggle with not wanting to get involved. It's no surprise then that Cassian is the stronger character, though Luna's performance was also above average and certainly worthy of mention.

Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn): While Director Krennic was not as formidable or intimidating a character as most Star Wars villains (lacking a lightsaber, lightening hands, or a red/black face with horns) he was a stronger character than most. In only a handful of scenes, Krennic proved to be arrogant, irritable, ambitious, and merciless. Krennic's angry outbursts could very easily have been overdone, but Mendelsohn exercised enough restraint to avoid this all too common corniness (cough, Saw Gerrera, cough). The only real flaw concerning his role as a villain is that he was overshadowed by the return of maybe the greatest villain of all time: Darth Vader (or overall character in my opinion).

Story/Writing

My first reaction to hearing about Rogue One was my fear that these standalone films might only serve as a money grab for Disney. My second was "well, every new character is certainly going to die". The decision to kill off all of the main characters was necessary considering this film is meant to immediately precede A New Hope. I've seen some reviews where audiences and critics have criticized Rogue One for killing off all of its main characters. I find these critiques baffling. Since none of these characters appear in A New Hope (Jyn, Cassian, Krennic, the Rebel fleet admiral, etc.) their absence would not make sense and any possible explanation for their non-involvement in the film would seem implausible given each character's importance to their respective cause. The decision to make a standalone film about stealing the Death Star plans was creative and original--at least more so than The Force Awakens--even if it meant a death sentence for its main characters.

Since the fate of all the new characters was to be decided in this film, they did not have to develop as much as characters in the other Star Wars films. Rogue One was more about the story of capturing the plans than it was about the men and women who died stealing them; the heavy dose of action scenes worked in Rogue One because the audience was not meant to have too strong of an attachment to the characters (this is Star Wars and not The Deer Hunter after all). Had there been a greater need for the characters to develop, dedicating the final quarter of the film to a battle would have been to the detriment of the film (as it was in Attack of the Clones). Instead, Rogue One is one of the few instances where a liberal amount of special effects serves a purpose without compromising character development.

The first third of the film, especially the parts on Jedha, were by far the slowest. Forest Whitaker's portrayal of the paranoid general Saw Gerrera was somewhat corny and rather forced. It also seemed unrealistic to me that a zealot like Saw would not make more of an effort to escape the Death Star's attack on Jedha. Even though he probably would not have made it to the ship due to his slow, robotic legs, I would have thought his character would do more than simply resign himself to his fate, especially considering he, justifiably, had doubts about Jyn's commitments to the Rebel cause.

Bor Gullet, Saw Gerrera's pink, mind-reading monster, was easily the weakest scene in the film and felt extremely out of place. Why did Saw subject Bodhi to a mind-reading monster and then throw him in a cell anyway after his story was presumably confirmed? And did Bodhi really "lose his mind" if he can regain it simply by being asked if he's the pilot? One could argue that this scene's purpose was to show how irrational and paranoid Saw was, but that would have been established well enough by the Scene where Saw is reunited with Jyn. The Bor Gullet scene should have been cut on the editing floor.

The "cameos" by previous Star Wars characters throughout the film were a small but significant addition to the film. Keeping these appearances brief and plentiful was wise as it kept the focus on the story at hand while spreading them out over the course of the film.

The only cameo that possibly created a non sequitur was C-3P0's observation that "they're going to Scarif?" Well, in order for the beginning to A New Hope to make sense, C-3P0 must be aboard Leia's ship (Tantive IV), which means he too would have been going to Scarif aboard Admiral Raddus's ship. This can easily be explained as a mistake on C-3P0's part, but then why not just have him say "We're going to Scarif?"

George Lucas made what will probably be his last positive contribution to a Star Wars film by allowing Director Gareth Edwards to splice previously unused clips of Red Leader and Gold Leader into the film. These scenes made perfect Easter eggs as they were hardly noticeable nuggets which only true Star Wars fans would appreciate.

The scene where the Rebel fleet shows up outside of Scarif was extremely well done and made good use of the old John Williams' score. I haven't been so pumped up for a fight scene since The Charge of the Rohirrim in Return of the King. 

It took me a second viewing to warm up to the characters of Baze Malbus and Chirrut Îmwe. It's no secret that Kung Foo movies are not my favorite, so I was initially opposed to Chirrut's character based on his battle with the Stormtroopers on Jedha. Upon further consideration, however, I'll admit that the idea of having the Jedi temple guarded by a Shaolin monk makes a certain amount of sense. In regards to speculation I've seen from certain fans that Baze and Chirrut must be gay lovers (because obviously two male warriors have never been close in battle without being romantically in love), I'll say this: nope.

The Tarkin and Leia CGI scenes were impressive and I think the right choice given that the alternative choice was to find alternative actors.  I thought the Carrie Fisher CGI was especially impressive while I had to adjust to the Tarkin scenes as the film progressed. Also, why all the pretend outrage over the morality of using CGI of a dead guy? Please go back to complaining about non-kale foods and leave Star Wars alone.

Darth Vader is my favorite character of any narrative, whether the story be a book, movie, or oral poem. It was with great anticipation therefore that I awaited his return to the big screen. My already high expectations were exceeded by that final scene, a scene which I may one day count among my favorite movie scenes of all time. As great as it is to see Darth Vader use a lightsaber for the first time since Return of the Jedi, it was the way the scene was shot that left me craving a second viewing. And a third. And a fourth. Edwards gave us the Darth Vader that Star Wars fans know and love, without any attempt to one-up previous Vader scenes. There were no lightsaber acrobatics or excessive force choking. He just walks slowly and confidently through the hall as he cuts a path through the Rebel forces like he always has, occasionally using the force to throw troopers out of his way or disarm them. It was a brilliant choice to have Vader appear out of the darkness by the glow of his lightsaber and the whole scene perfectly echoed Vader's first introduction in A New Hope. For a Star Wars fan this scene is reason enough to see Rogue One.

Conclusion:
A unique, creative backstory to the Star Wars series and better than I could have hoped for from a "standalone" film. Despite the weaker characters, I enjoyed Rogue One even more than The Force Awakens, mostly because Rogue One had a unique plot. Despite Rogue One's extensive use of CGI fight sequences, it will stand as an exception to my usual critique of films without more character development. It's possible that my grade too heavily reflects the film's ending rather than the film as a whole, but I'd much rather a film end well and start slow than vice versa, not to mention few films end as well as Rogue One does!

Grade:
WRAP: 85%

Author's Note: I've called this film a standalone Star Wars film because others have done so before me, but it really isn't. Some, including the great Mr. Plinkett, have criticized the film because it would not work without the context of the other Star Wars films. It seems to me that they've entirely missed the point. Rogue One is not meant to work outside the context of the other films (as the film's conclusion proves).