2019 Topher Allen Reviews
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- DirectorQuentin TarantinoStarsLeonardo DiCaprioBrad PittMargot RobbieAs Hollywood's Golden Age is winding down during the summer of 1969, television actor Rick Dalton and his stunt double Cliff Booth endeavor to achieve lasting success in Hollywood while meeting several colorful characters along the way.Okay, ramblers. Let’s get ramblin’.
No spoilers, no worries. No ratings, just reviews.
Walking downtown Austin, I passed the neon glow of Hut’s Hamburger’s nearly-down-to-Earth sign around 2:30am. In the city, it’s rare for a person to walk in such silence, but it’s simple to discover the time of day (I mean the time of night) you’re allowed such peaceful moments seemingly designed for contemplation. I listened for the buzz of the electricity, which was barely audible. This particular atmospheric touch aided my own pondering of my latest experience as neon signs, and their own unique sound effects, make up a certain montage literally highlighting the climax of Quentin Tarantino’s 9th, and possibly last, film.
My middle-night stroll took an interesting turn when I remembered my own response to the popular “Which decade would you most like to live through?” question.
My response has always been the ‘60s (literally “always,” not just appropriately for this writing), for the changes the country went through during a transformative period in Hollywood.
It was as if Tarantino made the movie just for me. (Brad Pitt’s character, when complimented, even uses a line I thought I coined in response to compliments, “I try”)
Not to breach topic, but I once described Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln” as a time capsule, taking you back in time and allowing your imagination to actually feel what it would be like to live during the ‘60s (Lincoln’s White House lit by candles at night is a viewing pleasure). Well, “Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood” does exactly that (of course, during the ‘60s as well, but a century after the events of Spielberg’s picture). However, Tarantino seeks the entertainment factor in a way Spielberg would never allow himself. For the record, I had never actually seen “Lincoln” when talking about how great it was for taking us back in time. (I may have meant to say it COULD be great in that regard) And when I finally saw it, I never really felt it was worth the whatever-the-duration it is...unlike this new Tarantino flick, which might one day be taught alongside Pulp Fiction in film schools. The lesson in entertainment factor as focus point, anyway.
For this trip (a literal trip of a finale, but nevermind), you get to go back in time almost like never before. No other movie has enmeshed a time like this picture. Plenty of movies seek to capture moments, but “Hollywood” is the star here. Hollywood is also the story, using Rick Fuckin’ Dalton as the main character. His character, a fictional person, is Hollywood itself. Now, with the promised violence of Charles Manson, and Hollywood as a fictional character, we are allowing Tarantino to rewrite history again.
Inglourious Basterd’s “basterdizing” of history isn’t the only callback to Tarantino’s previous works. His love for Spaghetti Westerns, which has painted their way through all of his filmography, is heavily influencing much of the imagery of this film as well. Leonardo DiCaprio’s character Dalton goes through a Clint Eastwoodian-esque period where he plays on tv shows before getting noticed by foreign directors (Eastwood starred in the Italian Sergio Leone’s “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” right after appearing on the Rawhide western tv-series, a film that Tarantino would consider a major part of his own film education).
“Hollywood” is also a hang-out movie, sure to encourage the weak to snore through the film (which did happen in my own theater, although it was a late showing for a long movie), but Tarantino is self-aware, bringing in Bruce Dern as a character who has a nap time specifically meant to diminish the chance of falling asleep during his tv shows later.
Nobody will be able to sleep through the ending, however, which I will refrain from talking about here (except: “Okay, Pig Killers, lets kill some pigs” haha, just to take credit for my opening line, a Tarantino turn of phrase here). This movie is about Hollywood in 1969, and you get to experience, like I said, exactly that. You will ride in cars listening to the radio (barefoot, since this is a Tarantino picture). You will go to the movies (also barefoot), but you’ll see drive-ins and watch the television (and for Alamo Drafthouse attendees, the preshow is the best I’ve ever seen this theater chain put on, giving you the feeling of channel surfing in the ‘60s). You’ll even fix an antenna just so you can watch tv. But you get to do so with shirtless Brad Pitt.
As for the structure of the film, since the narrative isn’t exactly about Leo’s character, even though Brad Pitt’s stuntman for Rick Dalton is always a welcome tough-guy and comedic relief, you HAVE to consider Hollywood not only a character, but the title character. The design goes from “a day in the life” to the effects of the days, requiring a narrated jump in time, to one final night that will surely end “Hollywood” as we know it. Hollywood is actually represented here through the lens of tv cameras, perhaps a reflection of Tarantino’s realization that watching new content at home, as opposed to a theatrical experience, is an everlasting trend of the future. The movie itself is also not about Sharon Tate, played by Margot Robbie who’s best scene is her watching herself (watching a real Sharon Tate film) with a smile of relishment on her face as she experiences her own performance through an audience around her. It’s essentially a silent role in a silent film (that is more hilarious the louder it gets), but her role is the villain (I’ll elaborate on this). Silent films are designed around visuals, and this film is...exactly that.
I wasn’t asking for much. I wanted Tarantino to be himself. To let us live in his world for a little bit. Let us hang out, like he did in Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown and Death Proof. And as much as I had high hopes, the movie tells you what you’re getting, and it obliterates expectations to exceed them. The tension that plays through the movie is the foreboding transformation that “Hollywood” will experience. This anxiety is a constant, and itself is the villain. This is the purpose and role of “Tate” in the narrative. “Hollywood,” our lead character, is about to undergo a historical change, and Tarantino is merely reminding the audience of what it should already know. However, as negative as his characters are (Dalton even hates Spaghetti Westerns), you have a glimmer of hope. An absolute optimism. For “Hollywood,” anyway, a version of Hollywood.
In the Los Angeles nights, we feel the midnight glow. The neon represents the end of the day and the beginning of life after a hard day’s work on the movie sets. Want to go to the Playboy mansion? We have a night there, too. But, at the end of the day, you’re just wanting entertainment. In Tarantino’s hands, “Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood”...is exactly that. - DirectorTodd PhillipsStarsJoaquin PhoenixRobert De NiroZazie BeetzArthur Fleck, a party clown and a failed stand-up comedian, leads an impoverished life with his ailing mother. However, when society shuns him and brands him as a freak, he decides to embrace the life of crime and chaos in Gotham City.
- DirectorChad StahelskiStarsKeanu ReevesHalle BerryIan McShaneJohn Wick is on the run after killing a member of the international assassins' guild, and with a $14 million price tag on his head, he is the target of hit men and women everywhere.
- DirectorJ.J. AbramsStarsDaisy RidleyJohn BoyegaOscar IsaacThe surviving Resistance faces the First Order once again in the conclusion of the Skywalker saga.The Force Sleeps
A spoiler-heavy review lay before you with a proper dose of ambiguity just in case you’d actually like to be talked out of seeing STAR WARS Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker.
Imagine you’re writing a novel. You have every opportunity at your fingertips (as soon as you break writer’s block). Endless inspiration all around you. Countless sources have come before you just sitting there to be picked, good fruits and plenty of bad. There’s an oft-written simple guide, almost so simple in rule, it begs to be cheated and broken. It goes like this...
The first two words of each chapter do not, will not, and should not be “and then...”
And then...do NOT write “and then.”
Use...”however...” or “meanwhile...”
As children, we’ll write our little stories, stories that do not deserve to be nurtured, but beg to be understood so as to be grown into better stories later in life. The never-ending story from my five-year-old is glued together by countless “and thens.” We must learn the rules of basic communication to break them with humor, irony, and most importantly, wonder, if we’re ever to truly be heard.
It appears these children are merely making deadlines. (Deadline: Noun. Meaning: Money). They run studios as people who grew up with Star Wars, but have rejected all the growing up.
There was one moment, and only one, that made “The Rise of Skywalker” worthy of an honorable mention, and it’s the only reason I write this at all. “I love you.”
These three words granted us one of the most iconic responses in movie history, from the cowboy in the original sequel to the space-western opera that is “Star Wars.”
It went like this, Han Solo is going to uncertain doom (a sorely missed feeling in the latest episode, for here there is just nothing at stake, proving Star Wars is no better than Marvel movies from Scorsese’s opinion). Leia tells him she loves him. Han responds “I know.”
“I love you” is not said here son to father. It is unspoken. “I know,” though, coming from father to son, tells us exactly what we need to hear. It is the only moment where the force is not only used, but given to the audience. We know Ben Solo feels it, too. And his fate is sealed. He will prove that Rey is more than her blood.
However, the aim of this flick seems merely to prove the power of “The Last Jedi.” Not Rey, but that last episode that was so disappointing to fans that calls for its removal from canon were passionately made.
And then...
Oh, it gets worse than “and then.”
We have “oh wait, real quick...”
We have “Almost forgot to mention...”
We even experience several “This has all been for nothing...”
And that’s the slap in the face Star Wars fans needed. Wake up, there’s been a mistake, we have nothing to add. We must further complete a Saga. We must beat a dead horse (or whatever those angry long-haired things were).
The missed opportunity.
You’re writing your novel, and your backstory must be established to recognize what your main character means to the already-cemented universe you’ve created. What you don’t realize is that there’s an intimate story of family versus the system. Family battles the generations before them. These stories are plentiful in the histories of all cultures. Much like “loner cinema,” where the hero discovers a larger order (in this case, we have come from the First Order to the Final Order) of all things. They explore themselves, always themselves, to learn that they are unique and outside the order. Everyone else is a device, certainly not a “real” character. The emotion must come from our main character.
And this is a hit to the heart of the fans...our main characters, our emotional centers (and seemingly first billed), are
treated like throwaway minor details.
Why are you writing this story?
You have a wonderful backstory, and a fearful villain. The Emperor! He strikes back. Again. This story is unused, only alluded to, seemingly forced upon the writers. The emotion is not even accessible as elaboration would be wasted in the overall structure of the story.
And it’s this structure that makes “Star Wars Episode 9” suffer. The old trick playfully used in “Return of the Jedi,” switching story lines to relieve any chance of boredom, is forced upon us here. This is certainly not the force awakened in “The Force Awakens.” That film takes its time, with ambiguity to spare. This gives us a sense of wonder, the magical feeling that John Williams maximizes better than anyone.
Not here. Not even John Williams has the chance. I couldn’t even tell if he was behind the orchestra as his themes are used for “big” moments only to remind us we’re watching a Star Wars film.
And I honestly couldn’t tell.
Nowhere did we have the Yoda moment from “The Last Jedi” to allow us to breathe and know everything would be okay and that we are in Jedi territory. Nowhere did we have a lightsaber battle that could compare to the beautiful choreography of the prequels (even if that’s all they had going for them). Nowhere did we have the time to recognize bigger themes at work that would be so prevalent on repeat viewings (though I’ll definitely be watching certain YouTube channels with a new hope of disproving my pessimism here).
Nowhere did I feel like a kid again, because I knew those at the helm were being children. I wish I could say that there were some well-edited sequences and good humor, but I’m too exhausted. I want to see Rey’s family running for their lives because Emperor Palpatine wants his bloodline under his control. I want to see the wonder on little Rey’s face as she discovers who she is, and I want to see her establish her own family to teach us that fate has no hold on us. This inevitable ending (predictable though it may be, also the reason we know nothing is at stake) feels like it was from the outtakes...of the wrap party...before the short epilogue...which is tacked on there like a rusty license plate...
“And then...oh yeah, almost forgot our title...the rise of Skywalker means...um...the same shot from Episode III, look at those suns! Cue John Williams!” - DirectorNoah BaumbachStarsAdam DriverScarlett JohanssonJulia GreerA stage director and his actor wife struggle through a grueling divorce that pushes them to their personal and creative extremes. Noah Baumbach's incisive and compassionate look at a marriage breaking up and a family staying together.
- DirectorBong Joon HoStarsSong Kang-hoLee Sun-kyunCho Yeo-jeongGreed and class discrimination threaten the newly formed symbiotic relationship between the wealthy Park family and the destitute Kim clan.The following is a suggestively spoilerish critique of the film “Parasite.”
Walking the fine lines of emptiness, through clean corridors and pristine furniture, a family infects the lives of another. They are parasites, latching onto their host. From the director of “The Host” and “Snowpiercer,” comes another visionary tale, another war of the classes.
Literally, schooling this family in several ways, class is what this film is really about. We are granted full access into one seemingly wholesome family, one that may truly enjoy being together. This lovely feel abruptly dissolves when we realize their aspirations are reachable through cruelty, but we wonder if they have the awareness to see themselves as pathetic. This is a problem for the film while we are treated visually with a feast for the eyes, we find no likable characters. In fact, we have the reaction of the characters on-screen dissecting undissectable works of art. “Ah, it’s so metaphorical.”
Said with a lame tone.
Is the director practicing self-awareness?
Is he able to dismiss the lack of a moral center for “creativity?” Or is he lacking that, too?
The film begins in between two worlds, visually represented with an apartment halfway underground. This family has not yet been drowned by the earth itself as they have the advantage of seeing daylight, therefore not only enabled to prey on those who live above ground, but entitled. I realized this was a horror film in these moments, but unable to fear these Halfway-People through the comedic tone with which the director assaults us. Wholesome, they are not, to say the least. They reach for the stars, those who luckily have vulnerabilities of which can be brought to light in tragic ways.
But it’s those they prey on who make it so easy. Meet the Above-People. They who live in perfect everything with windows all around and absolutely NO basement (for Above People do not belong below ground). It’s social commentary that dismisses creativity here. The Aboves (rich people) are “simple” folk, unable to care for themselves. Perfect prey. But they aren’t being used, it must be noted. They aren’t being exploited. They are even less aware, but keep their dignity.
The center of the movie is actually the climax of the film. Our family of Halfway-People are experiencing success. Their version of success. Drinking together and happy just after a scene where they express being content, it feels as if they could have this happiness anywhere. This heart of the film doesn’t matter how grand and expensive is the overtaken house. They have fully taken over the family of Above-People. They’re “living there,” they remark, believing this to be so. The Above-ground people are off on an unperfect camping trip whilst the Halfway-People discover...the people under the stairs. The Underground People. (Fuckin’ Republicans that worship the rich like they’re gods)
The Aboves, Halfways, and Belows...they’re connected only through stairs. Separating them is elevation...and stench. But while themes of dignity and class ring with so much truth, the events of the film seem merely random.
I feel like I’m offending myself by calling it “original” or “unique” because it should be dismissed as merely different. I’d love for there to be more people who would write a story like this, but it’s so true that anybody could. Entertainment is the least of our responsibilities, dear Hollywood. That’s the easy part. Symbolism isn’t exactly the high-road, but congratulations for giving us a conversation. That isn’t asking too much. Answers, I never ask for. That is the only responsibility the audience has. We wouldn’t want to take that away. It’s questions that good movies present. It’s philosophy. And this movie has a great philosophy going for it. The world director Bong Joon-Ho builds is glorious. The confusion, however, that comes along with it is why I might have to dismiss this past Oscar night with the memes of confusion that came from it, rather than even caring about the four Oscars “Parasite” went home with.
Oh, they deserved every one of them (not sure about the writing one, but I wasn’t so sure “Joker” deserved even the nomination). But I gotta stop expecting so much from America. Well done, South Korea.
But again...who are the parasites? Who is the “parasite?” It’s every one of us. Those Above and Below. And here I am wishing Hayao Miyazaki was at the helm showing us all how vital the earth itself is. “Us” presented this story in just as profound, albeit easy, way. Jordan Peele’s film at least embraced a genre, proving to us that “unique” and creativity don’t have to sacrifice narrative structure. Joaquin Phoenix painted a better horror tale in his Oscar speech. We breed cows, kidnap their calves, use their milk for ourselves, and ignore their cries of anguish. “Parasite” seems purposeful in the effort to show “metaphor,” but hell-bent on open interpretation. It isn’t just the rich we must blame. Especially when the Belows strive for everything had by the Aboves. We are the parasite. We are hopeless. - DirectorBenny SafdieJosh SafdieStarsAdam SandlerJulia FoxIdina MenzelWith his debts mounting and angry collectors closing in, a fast-talking New York City jeweler risks everything in hope of staying afloat and alive.
- DirectorRian JohnsonStarsDaniel CraigChris EvansAna de ArmasA detective investigates the death of the patriarch of an eccentric, combative family.