Change Your Image
branthadaway
Reviews
MH370: The Plane That Disappeared (2023)
Starts out ok, then descends into conspiracy-mongering
This could have been an excellent and informative documentary about the many people who, based on traditions of rational inquiry, have sought to resolve the mystery of MH370. It starts out well enough, but by Episode 2 it descends into "I-have-questions" conspiracy theories that don't survive even a moment of rational scrutiny. One version would have us take seriously the notion that the Russians might well have engaged in an elaborate scheme to hijack the plane to distract from the invasion of Crimea, and that this was a more plausible theory than the pilot deliberately committing a mass-murder/suicide.
And then you have the French, oh, and are they ever French! They would have the audience conclude that this was all a vast conspiracy from the Anglo-Saxons. It's full of rank speculation, which depends on the supposition that the United States would have committed the worst sort of crime against humanity in order to prevent a single transfer of technology to the Chinese. And they never quite get around to providing a plausible explanation of the motives for and the purpose of such a conspiracy.
It brings to mind the nauseating experience of Egypt Air 990, when we were expected by the Egyptians to consider every wild theory except for the most obvious one--that the pilot deliberately dove the aircraft into the North Atlantic.
The viewer can be forgiven for thinking that many of the documentary's subjects, as well as the filmmakers themselves, might have a screw loose.
Muscle Shoals (2013)
Excellent Lesson in American Music History with an Emotional Punch
My only regret upon watching "Muscle Shoals" is that I somehow missed it when it was first released, some seven and a half years ago.
I grew up in the 70s, and occasionally heard about Muscle Shoals and the Swampers (they even got a mention in Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama"). But even after turning to music as an avocation, I never learned the story of what made Muscle Shoals special. This documentary lays out the human side of the Muscle Shoals story in beautiful, often emotional detail.
At the heart of the story is Rick Hall, who grew up a dirt poor hillbilly in northern Alabama and had more than his share of tragedy and betrayal. Through sheer determination and a perfectionist's sensibility in the studio, he clawed his way to becoming one of the most consequential producers and studio owners of the 20th century.
Hall's original studio band, the Swampers, features as another "character" in the film. The Swampers became one of the most sought after back up bands in the 60s and 70s, and played on some of the most memorable hits of the era. What the viewer will find surprising is that these white country boys from northern Alabama backed some of the most soulful black music hits of the era.
The film also touches on the many musicians who recorded in Muscle Shoals, and features interviews with a number of them, including the Rolling Stones and Aretha Franklin. The film gives a little too much time to the Stones, and the film never really explains why Bono keeps popping up, but overall, considering who was still alive at the time, it strikes a good balance.
Then, of course, there is the music, itself. All I can say here is that you should watch this with a good sound system.
My only disappointment, and the reason I don't give it ten stars, is that we learn nothing about Rick Hall's engineering secrets. What did he do technically to bring about that special, warm, Muscle Shoals sound? I would have enjoyed learning more about that.
But that omission didn't detract from the film's emotional punch. Ultimately, this is a story about tragedy and triumph, friendship and betrayal, and the combination of music and emotion occasionally brought a tear to my eye. Highly recommended.
P.S. I saw one reviewer comment disparagingly about a clip of Lynyrd Skynyrd concert footage that showed a Confederate battle flag in the background. I don't know what the reviewer expected the filmmakers to do about that. The Confederate flag was used by more than one Southern rock band in the 70s and 80s, and it wouldn't have made sense to just erase that from the historical record, nor would it have been practical, from a filmmaking standpoint. One can debate over what it meant to people at the time, but it was what it was.
The Crown: Fagan (2020)
Anti-Thatcher Agitprop
I've generally enjoyed The Crown, and have been willing to overlook its many historical inaccuracies in exchange for what have been some enjoyable performances. The "Fagan" episode, however, was an exception. First, building an entire episode around Michael Fagan's break-in seems gratuitous, as it takes the viewer on random detour from the more interesting aspects of the Royal Family's lives at that time.
Worse, rather than tell a story that is at least close to reality (Fagan was a comically absurd individual, and the fact that he was able to twice slip past Palace security was a story in of itself, which the episode unfortunately glosses over), series creator Peter Morgan uses Fagan as his personal sock-puppet to launch a rant against Margaret Thatcher. The result is complete nonsense that left me wishing I had spent that hour of my life doing something else.
Emma. (2020)
A Badly Directed Train Wreck
I decided to watch this after falling in love with Anya Taylor-Joy's performance in The Queen's Gambit. Taylor-Joy in the lead role struck me as a can't-miss, Emma had received glowing reviews, and I've been a fan of other Jane Austen adaptations in the past.
However, it became obvious within the first ten minutes of Emma that the director, Autumn de Wilde, had no clue about the language of narrative filmmaking. Shot choices and sequences seem random, the camera often jumping around in a scene so much that the viewer becomes disoriented. Characters appear out of nowhere, yet you are expected to instantly understand their relationships to other characters. One can almost see the performers' growing sense of dread as they realize that they are not in good hands.
In short, Emma looked like it was directed by a film student, not a skilled feature director.
I have since read that de Wilde comes from a music video and graphic arts background, which explains a lot. Directors who come from this sort of background tend to struggle with narrative filmmaking, and they are often just plain awful at it.
Some directors from this type of background, like Michael Bay, manage to cheat their way through by creating images that are at least visually arresting, even though their skills at shot sequence, composition, and editing remain horrible. De Wilde attempted something like this, but it falls flat. In an interview, she said that she wanted to add visual humor to the story. But visual comedy is hard to pull off, and in the wrong hands it can be terrible. De Wilde's effort was typical of the latter. Having the actors make silly movements and gestures in front of a wide-angle lens might "look" funny, but when unconnected to a visual narrative it's just annoying. The cast of Emma looked so ridiculous that I began to feel embarrassed for them.
(By contrast, the director of The Queen's Gambit, Scott Frank, spent decades as a screenwriter, working with skilled visual storytellers such as Steven Soderbergh (Out of Sight), Barry Sonnenfeld (Get Shorty), and Steven Spielberg (Minority Report). His understanding of the craft shows in every detail of The Queen's Gambit, which rarely strikes any sort of false note.)
Will de Wilde take the lesson? I doubt it. Obviously, a memo went out to the press, so the reviews are glowing and the interviews fawning. De Wilde will probably make the mistake of believing that she's arrived. She hasn't, and I suspect that the execs who backed this dumpster fire know the truth.
I nevertheless give the film two stars because I could watch Anya Taylor-Joy read a newspaper for two hours. Her beauty is other-worldly.