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Acting & Writing

"This is a huge hundred million dollar movie, but the introduction of my character - I'm supposed to be riding a horse, so they just put me on a barrel in the middle of the Disney parking lot and angled the camera so they get the sky behind me. They get a fan blowing my hair, and that's me riding a horse!"

"If I had a role where I had to do an accent, maybe I would work with somebody, a voice coach," the actor demurs. "I think it would be great to take an acting class, because acting is fun - more fun than writing, the instant feedback. It's not sitting alone in a room trying to write something, because that's a long process - it can take a year to write something, a year of struggling and trying to keep your confidence up, not knowing if it's going to amount to anything. With acting it's right there, you're around people, it's more sociable. I'm able to do both, it's worked out nicely."

"I find stuff from dramas funny, that's kind of more the humor I'm attracted to. Even Raging Bull has scenes that are hilarious to me." "I think people are realizing how hard it is to break into the movies, and that if you want to do something, you have to do it on your own - when you're an actor, your destiny's kind of in the hands of a lot of other people, but when you're writing, you have the chance to control an idea more," he says of the rise in under-30 talent on the production end. "I'm in a good place, kind of flying under the radar, getting to do different interesting things. It's not like a lot of pressure, with people watching like, 'Ooh, what's your next move going to be?'"

"I wouldn't mind kind of doing what I've been able to do now...which is making a living doing something creative."

"I like to work on ideas and new dialogue before I get to the set and talk them over with my director and co-stars," Wilson says.

"Because I didn't study acting or think about it as a career, I have never taken myself that seriously as an actor," he says between spoonfuls. "I look at someone like Dustin Hoffman or Al Pacino, who can change their voice and their whole look. I don't think I would be particularly good at that."

"Acting is more fun than writing," he said. "Writing is harder, more like having a term paper."

"I can't think of a movie I wish I'd acted in, but there are movies I wish I'd written."

"If I show up and there's some stuff I think is embarrassing for me to say, I really focus my mind and try and come up with something. But you have to be sensitive to other actors."

“I was a big movie fan,” said Owen, “but I didn’t see how you could really work in movies. That seemed sort of impossible. The subject I was okay at was English, so I could see trying to write short stories or maybe even books. The most practical thing seemed to be in advertising, writing copy.”

"There hasn't been a lot of thought or planning about the roles I've taken," he admits. "Usually, something is offered and it sounds like fun or it's somebody interesting to work with. I wanted to work with Gene Hackman; that's why I did 'Behind Enemy Lines.' But in terms of reading a script and saying, 'I love this,' that doesn't happen very often. More often, you take something and say, 'Well, we'll work on the script.' "Sometimes you do that and you can save the movie and sometimes you can't. In 'Shanghai Noon,' I felt we made it better. In 'I Spy,' we tried to wing it and it didn't work that well."

"Acting is more fun, to show off," Wilson says. "I prefer to act off people (Chan, Eddie Murphy)."

'When I'm writing, I'm on a roll. Like being back in school with a term paper. And I tend to rewrite my own dialogue until I get in sync with the character."

"From a young age, I got good feedback about my writing. My dad is a really good writer, so I would always go to him for advice."

"What inspires me to write is thinking of a funny idea. And when I say "funny", I don't necessarily mean a big comedy. The best dramas, if they're real, have funny elements to them. Punch-Drunk Love did a great job of that. Real pain is funny stuff. That's why I love my character in Bottle Rocket or Max Fischer in Rushmore or Bill Murray's character in Life Aquatic. Those characters have lots of insecurities, foibles, vanity and ego - emotions - and to me, that's where humor comes from."

(asked whether or not his improvisational skills bother fellow actors) "Yes, sometimes people get irritated, starting with my brother Luke in BR. He would get pissed at me, like, 'Why don't you just say the lines that you wrote?'

"The first priority is the stuff, the work that I do with Wes"

"It seems like in every movie that you act in, you end up doing some writing on or at least trying to come up with ideas. Sitting down and conceiving an idea from start to finish, I haven't done that in a while. But it would be nice to try that again. It's sort of like having a term paper. It's not something I get really excited about - sitting in a room for three months trying to create something - but it's fun when you get on a roll, and it's great to finish something."

"I would like to play...Well I loved The Insider, but I can't really see myself playing a Russell Crowe character, so I see myself as having limitations as an actor. Almost not being like a real actor, being able to, you know, change voices and things."

"I've always been interested in the craft of acting. Plays and stuff. When you're writing you kind of act things out, or sort of sound stuff out in your head. My first film acting was when we did the short. "

" I had performed a little before, although I have never taken acting classes. I am hesitating to say this, but I don't think there's much to acting. Wait, that sounds horrible. No, it's difficult to be a good actor. about working on The Godfather."

"I just saw "American Beauty" and I would have liked to play the Kevin Spacey character but I'm too young. "Taxi Driver" -- I liked that character a lot. When I love a movie, I like the characters in it and I would have liked to play them. The thing Wes and I are writing now has a character I'm going to play who is very funny and moving so I'm looking forward to that."

"If I waited for a script I loved, I would never have acted," explains Wilson, who says he tries to work with directors who allow him to improvise. "So I guess [my films] make up a funny list. At least it's not pretentious.... But it does kind of drive my agent crazy."

"You show up on the set, you make new friends, you get to be friends with the crew. Writing is more like having a term paper. You hole up and try to pull something out of nothing. "

"The thing is with acting, it's like I'm tapping into the same stuff I would do with writing because I'm improvising sometimes. It's like the best type of writing because you're forced to do it that day. If you're given the lines you're going to say that day and the lines are embarrassing, there's nothing like that to motivate you to sit down and try to write something so you don't sound like an idiot."

Agents

"There's that Mark Twain quote: 'It takes two people to hurt you: your enemy to say something bad about you and your friend to come and tell you what they said.' In Hollywood, your agent serves both roles."

Armageddon

"It's kind of like a Miramax cast in a huge blockbuster-type movie," says Wilson, who became interested in the part of Oscar Choi when Bruckheimer and Bay told him some of the other people who were going to be involved. "I had known Billy Bob Thornton and really liked him, and Steve Buscemi - it just seemed like a good group of guys. Bruce Willis is sort of my favorite."

On the scene in Armageddon where he rides a horse - "They used somebody else for the faraway shot, and then for the close-up, they had me on a barrel in the parking lot with a fan blowing on my hair, saying 'yah-yah.' "

"Especially when there's a tour group going through, and the guide is saying, 'There's our big summer blockbuster being filmed.' People musta been thinking 'Jeez, Disney is sort of tight.' "

"I saw it a week ago - it's pretty amazing, because when you're making it you don't have an awareness of the overall movie, especially some of the special effects - to see Paris get decimated is amazing," he notes, recalling the deceptive simplicity of the filmmaking while he was working on it. "This is a huge hundred million dollar movie, but the introduction of my character - I'm supposed to be riding a horse, so they just put me on a barrel in the middle of the Disney parking lot and angled the camera so they get the sky behind me. They get a fan blowing my hair, and that's me riding a horse!"

"I was on a barrel in Armageddon. They shot a guy on a horse in Arizona or somewhere while I was probably drinking a smoothie in Los Angeles. It was so embarrassing. They didn't even have me on a soundstage. Because they needed to get the sky, they had me out in the middle of the parking lot on a barrel that they kind of moved, with a fan blowing into my face."

Behind Enemy Lines

"I'm hoping it might give me like a slight edge when we get into arguments and fights, like it might make him hesitate just that split second before he thinks about challenging me, and that split second's all I'll need to get my first shot in," Wilson says dryly. - on using his new action hero status against his brother, Luke.

"The way it worked out was," Owen told us, "Gene Hackman saw Shanghai Noon and recommended me for Behind Enemy Lines, and, uh, I think that's why they hired me. . . . It wasn't so much my agent bringing me the script. It was Gene wanted me to do it."

"No, I'm like, uh, I grew up going to the ocean a lot, so I'm real comfortable in the water. It was actually funny, 'cause my military advisor who, you know, was kind of shepherding me through the thing, like, I guess like as a show of good faith and camaraderie, for the buoyancy thing, where you had to just tread water for like three minutes and take this thing out of your pack and blow it up, he said he'd do it with me. We had to do it for three minutes, and I look over and he's in the corner of the pool and he's like going under! They had to kind of fish him out. So I felt good that I did better than my military advisor."

"Well, they say comedy's hard, but I think drama's the real killer. When you're doing a comedy you kind of have a sense as you're going along if it's working, if it seems funny, if the crew is laughing, how it's playing. With a drama, you don't have any ideas if it's going to work. With this movie, it was really tough, because most of my scenes are just me running. You show up every day and you have to come up with a bunch of ways to make running dramatic, you know - now you're running though a field, now you're running down a hill, now you're crawling through mud. You have to be a real professional to make that interesting (laughs)."

“A lot of the time I wasn’t playing off of somebody. I would just show up at work and [they’d say], ‘Run here and now crawl through the mud here.’ It was a little different,” explains Wilson.

"I mean, it should have been called Running For My Life, cause that's what I'm doing through the whole thing. I don't play a very good badass, and it's funny because the character was originally written that way. It's easier to play him this way than to play a badass. It's like Shanghai Noon. That character was originally supposed to be like this major outlaw. And, I don't know, those characters aren't as funny to me as somebody who's kinda shifty or a con artist."

"Sitting out here, I think of Harvey Keitel in U-571 saying 'I'm an old sea dog,' or whatever he says. Maybe I've got a little of that in me, the old salty dog. Salty Dog Wilson. I've also found myself thinking, on that nautical theme, about Treasure Island, Cast Away and also Cabin Boy. You know, Chris Elliot? Yes, my thoughts do run to Cabin Boy." - talking about filming aboard the USS Carl Vinson at sea.

"We switched it from the pilot to the backseater guy, the navigator. I'm definitely not playing a Schwarzenegger, because I don't think I'd buy myself doing something like that. But I can buy myself running for my life."

"The feeling you get is that these are the best people we could have out there. These are the people we want defending our country." - on the men sent to fight the war against terrorism/the crew of the USS Carl Vinson & the USS Constellation.

Behind Enemy Lines Premiere

"This is going to be so cool," he enthuses. "I take a helicopter to Point Magoo in Malibu, and then I get on an F-18 to San Diego where we're showing the movie to 1,400 guys at the naval base (with reception to follow on the U.S.S. Nimitz)."

"I mean, it'll be incredible. You know how long it takes an F-18 to get from Point Magoo to San Diego? Eight minutes! That's a little faster than the 405 (the San Diego Freeway)."

Ben Stiller

To this day Wilson says that letter from Stiller is “… one of the best notes I’ve ever gotten. Not many people saw BOTTLE ROCKET and Ben was an established person. He took the time to write such a thoughtful letter - it meant a lot to me.”

"Yeah, Ben and I met on the film The Cable Guy and then he wrote a really nice letter saying how much he'd enjoyed Bottle Rocket," says Owen. "We've been close friends ever since. We definitely find the same things funny."

"Ben, for example, is kind of a moody guy, and you kind of have to put on the kid gloves because you never know which Ben is going to show up on set."

"I like to keep things loose when I perform. Ben has a really different approach."

"We're both up-and-down personalities. We've been friends for a long time, and we have a similar sense of humor, but (to Stiller) you're pretty sensitive to stuff. Sensitive to me - on the Zoolander DVD commentary, they start slamming the way I look, saying 'what's the deal with his nose?' And I could hear Ben try to defend me.""

Ben always had a technical term for every mistake he made. If he hit the wall, it was a power slide."

“I wrote a funny thank you note to Ben pretending like he was bothering me, that I really didn’t have time to answer his letter, that I was dictating this letter to my secretary,” laughs Wilson. “I get his name wrong and I say, ‘Your comments are duly noted.’ He actually has that letter up in his office.”

"Writer, director, actor, quitter!" - Owen to Ben Stiller, 2002 Oscars.

Bottle Rocket

“It’s always gratifying when people come up and recognize me from a movie, but the one that means the most is Bottle Rocket. It was the first one, it’s me and my brothers, my friend Wes directed it, and we wrote it together.”

''The star treatment has continued,'' says Wilson. ''On the publicity tour, Dunston (the orangutan from 'Dunston Checks In') stayed at the Ritz-Carlton. We stayed at the Econolodge.''

""It didn't feel like a real movie until James Caan came down,'' said writer Owen Wilson. ""That kind of validated it. ''

"This sums up the trip," Owen observes. "We have had some excellent views of better hotels."

''Brooks came down to Dallas (where the pair now lived) with Polly Platt, and we drove around and talked about the movie. And then we took them to our apartment,'' Wilson remembers. ''He was sort of shocked at our living quarters , and I think that helped us because there was no doubt we could use some assistance once he'd been in our apartment.''

"Yeah, like in The Adventures of Huck Finn, when Tom Sawyer comes to get Jim out, he can't just open the door. He makes them dig a tunnel under the house and do all this stuff they got from The Count of Monte Christo. So Dignan has the same things, where it's not just doing it, it's the style you do it in."

"It's nice to have someone come up and mention Bottle Rocket. That was the first thing that I wrote with my friend Wes Anderson, and he directed it, my two brothers were in it with me, and we filmed it in Dallas, where I grew up--so there's a lot of personal stuff. Hardly any people saw it when it came out in theaters, but then it got a second or third chance on cable and video. If somebody comes up and compliments me on Armageddon or Anaconda [1997) [laughs], it's nice, but it's not really the same."

"None of us moved back to Texas. We just took anything we could to make money."

"Someone added a category beyond four on his card, which was 'sucked'. It was kind of harsh."

"The idea that Luke and Wes and me have been able to do pretty well for ourselves is amazing to me, and it's all because of 'Bottle Rocket. 'The truth is, as soon as I found out I could make movies for a living, it was the happiest day of my life.''

"Why didn't people like that movie more? It's depressing. We thought it was so funny."

"Yeah, cacaw, cacaw. People will say that to me when I'm walking around. But when someone says "cacaw" to me, I always turn and have a connection with that person."

The reviews of Rocket were abysmal, Wilson was devastated. He found himself turning to God again, "I wandered blindly into a cathedral near the Universal lot, tears streaming down my face, looking for a sanctuary."

"Sometimes I stop and think how strange this all is," explains Owen. "Something that began as a little idea in Austin, that Wes and I just walked around talking about between ourselves, has turned into all this. "

"Wes really stuck with "Bottle Rocket" when we had terrible test screenings. I was looking into joining the Army. I swear," he says, grabbing his keys, ready to move on and resuscitate the mood. "Maybe I'm the kind of optimist who deep down knows it's not going to work."

"I think Bottle Rocket means the most to me," he says, "because it was the first movie, and it's got so much of me and Luke and Wes in it."

"After test screening so badly, I was never able to enjoy it or be proud of it at all. Also, it felt personal because it was the first time I had acted and people were walking out. So, of course, they're walking out because I'm a shitty actor and so is Luke and what the f*** made us think we could act? We were insane. Why would we think people would laugh at this stuff? It's so stupid, it's so indie humor we think is funny. Of course no one else is going to think it's funny. But when we were filming it, we were killing ourselves laughing. And then it turns out it was pretty good. It has just taken eight years for people to come round to it."

"I don't know if the studio was so gung-ho," Owen Wilson says. "It wasn't something they would normally embrace. Jim had just got done with a big, complicated movie, "I'll Do Anything," and he liked the idea of doing something simple and self-contained."

"I think Jim was thinking, 'If I don't make this movie, what's gonna happen to these guys? What will become of them? They just seem to be hanging by a thread here.'"

"I asked Jim, 'So, what did you think of that reading we gave?' " said co-writer and co-star Owen Wilson, 27, one of three brothers involved in the project. "He said, 'It was the worst one I ever heard in my whole life.' " "We kept the crime element in it, but the characters became more like oddballs than real criminals," added Owen Wilson. "These characters aspire to be like the guys in 'Heat.' "

"We couldn't have done it without Ross Perot,'' Owen C. Wilson says.

''(Brooks) asked us to do a reading of the script, which was fine, except we'd never actually done one before,'' Wilson says. ''The script was about 140 pages long, but the computer printout we had made was three or four times that size. It was almost too big to hold, and so we're blundering our way through this epic comedy, and we knew we were blowing it.''

'We went back and frantically cut out a bunch of stuff,'' Wilson says.

(on the full length film being rejected by Sundance) ''We weren't crushed, but we were a little surprised,'' Wilson admits. ''It actually was more amusing than anything. Of course, if we had still been trying to get a deal together to finish it or to get it distributed, it might have been a little more difficult to see the humor in the situation.'' ''Only the font Wes was using on his printer made a 140-page script the equivalent of 300 pages,'' says Owen Wilson. ''We knew something was wrong two hours into it when we were only on page 40. We had a real epic comedy. Jim Brooks looked like he'd been hit with a stun gun.''

''They put us up, but it's not like it was a luxury hotel,'' says Wilson. ''Where we were staying, they told us there were patients on the third floor. But they wouldn't tell us what kind of patients, and they wouldn't let us go up there. So the whole time we were wondering, 'What the f-- are they hiding on the third floor?''

''Everybody was celebrating,'' says Wilson, ''but we thought we already had the green light. Then after the green light, it was back to '99 percent sure.' In L.A., 99- percent is like 50-50 in the rest of the country. And 90 percent means you're lost.''

After the premiere, says Wilson, ''We had a barbecue -- catered barbecue. People told us that premieres are usually stuffy, but that they had a good time at ours.''

"Dignan is sort of childlike in his enthusiasm and energy. He doesn't censor himself. He has little boy ideas about what it is to be a criminal."

"I didn't read a how-to book, we just kind of started writing the screenplay - Wes had a format on the computer for how to do it, and we just wrote until we had something that we both liked. When we first gave it to Jim Brooks, it was way too long, it was like two hundred pages, so then we did a lot of work with Jim Brooks in sharpening it and giving it more of a three-act structure. That was a really great learning process - I think Rushmore's a better script than Bottle Rocket.

"I knew it wasn't going so great when [Brooks] started watching a basketball game on TV."

"And that's kind of how it was with Bottle Rocket, 'cause, we had been working on the script together out here [Los Angeles] with Jim Brooks. And I had started wearing all white, but like, kind of what I considered kind of a cool version of all white. And then Wes kind of took what my idea was, which was kind of cool, and in Bottle Rocket wanted me to wear all white, but look kind of ridiculous."

Brothers

"We were good until we started getting into firecrackers and girls."

"We’re all real close but we fought a lot and we still will fight but we probably spend more time with each other than we do anybody else."

"It would be hard for me to be the brother who wasn't famous, especially the fact that Andrew is the oldest. But he's just really proud and excited for us. Actually, often Andrew seems happier than Luke or myself with his life. I know it's a cliché, but maybe it's true that success and money doesn't necessarily translate into being happy."

"I remember a Christmas party a couple of years ago, when me and my brothers were all talking and this guy came over and he was like, `Split up you three, you're not doing this, you're always together, you've got to go and talk to other people'. And it really is like that. We like hanging out together."

"Andrew was the hero of the family--a great athlete, dated the prettiest girls. Luke and I really looked up to him," Wilson says. " I don't think I was the clown. My dad was the funny person of the family. I was kind of thought as being creative...and getting into trouble."

"Well, Luke's the heart-throb of the family," he laughs. "Luke was always popular with the girls while we were growing up, but I have to say that I kinda held my own, too. But, in fact, our older brother Andrew is traditionally the best looking in the family. He's acting now, too. He had a little part in Zoolander, actually."

"When Luke and I went out to Los Angeles to meet James Caan (who plays a sleazy thief in the comedy), we went to the beach to play football," said Owen Wilson. "We got into an argument about interference, and the next thing I know, Luke is throwing a punch at me when I'm not looking. So we went into this meeting and I had this shiner and this cut down my face, and it was really funny."

"It's just the three of us, no sisters, and we're really tight," Owen said. "My mom deserves a special place in heaven for putting up with us."

"Yeah. That probably helps in why we don’t feel competitive in terms of movie stuff because we are kind of different. We don’t look that much like brothers, me, Luke and Andrew."

"It's my 'Big Chill' moment," Owen said. "He's family, so I just love him and I feel protective because he's my younger brother. He just makes me laugh."

"s there nothing that bugs him about Little Brother? "He's moody, like I am."

"We get along pretty well, but there are some disagreements over how the house should be run," he says, comparing their setup to The Odd Couple. "Luke is actually kind of like Felix and I'm more of the Oscar. He's a little bit touchy about his stuff."

"For some reason women always go for Luke, it must be those hang-dog eyes."

(on kissing Luke's then girlfriend, Gwyneth Paltrow on-screen) "I don't think he was jealous about it, but I was a little self-conscious maybe," says Owen. "We're only competing for her affection on-screen."

"I think there is a middle child syndrome" says Owen, "I don't know quite what it is but I think I suffer from it."

"Maybe when we were really little, Andrew would would beat me up sometimes and stuff," Owen recalled. Now, he and Luke are working on a movie they might direct together, so he's around. But he hasn't been high profile and stuff. It's weird, I think it could [change the relationship] with me if Andrew and Luke made it and I felt kind of left out. But I guess it's a testament to Andrew -- sort of that strength of character -- [that] he always seems really happy."

"We spent so much time together that I can remember us being in our teens and our dad saying we should try to find some other friends because he thought we were our own lowest common denominator when we got together."

"And the worst would be advice I've gotten from my brothers, Luke and Andrew. I'd tell them about a situation and their response was always to escalate it -- you have a violent reaction, make it even worse. They're never ones to say, 'Just walk away and let it go. They're like, "F--k that guy!'"

"Well, we're like real competitive with games," Owen said, "like who can hit that post with a rock. But with Hollywood stuff, Luke and Andrew saw Behind Enemy Lines and they loved it, and I think they're really excited. There's a shared excitement in making movies and making a living doing something creative. We bond over watching the World Series together and going down to the ocean, playing around down by the beach."

"It's really not so much what we're doing," Owen continued, "but being around each other and kind of talking. One of the nice things is that you don't have to be real polite, the way you would with strangers. You can give each other a little grief, and a lot of times it seems two of the brothers are ganging up on another. It's like Lord of the Flies."

(on living with Luke) "That's probably a sign of real immaturity. It needs to change. It's ridiculous."

"But it’s really weird to have trailers out at the same time and it’s weird to both have movies coming out. It’s strange enough to be in the movies, but to have a movie coming out at the same time as my brother is really odd. I get more nervous about how his movie is going to do than I do about my own for some reason. We’re best friends so we don’t really get into whose movie is going to make more money."

(on giving Luke hints that it was time to move out) "The hints got more and more obvious," he says. "We have a message board in the house. I wrote on it, 'Going to miss you, Luke.' "

(on cooking at home) "Luke was doing chili for a while," Owen says. "It was out of a can, warming it up. For us, that was pretty enterprising."

"Usually it's like two brothers ganging up on another one. It's like Lord of the Flies sometimes."

"To be honest, I have to say that I don't miss Luke," Owen laughs. "I certainly didn't invite him to live with me in the first place. I told him one day that I'd bought this house in Santa Monica, and he came on and hit me hard and said, "When do WE move in?'" recalls Owen. "I'd been trying to get him out ever since," he laughs.

"I said, 'Sir, I've gotten a lot of tickets, and I know I deserved them...but can I just say in my brother's defense that I was urging him to go faster.'" - helping Luke to avoid a speeding ticket.

(on Andrew and Luke directing him in TWBS) "I felt like both Luke and Andrew were kind of directing me," he says. "Although Andrew was probably talking to me more about my character. But I would notice that Luke was kind of whispering stuff to him."

Which one was the toughest director? "Andrew actually seems the most easygoing," Owen says. "Luke can be sort of tightly wound. But Andrew can snap. And he did actually, at one point. With the pressure of the movie, he could sometimes lose it a little bit."

(on being directed by his brothers) "There was some debate about that before I got down there," Owen says. "It's OK to be directed by your older brother. I'm used to him bossing me around. But having your younger brother tell you what he thinks you need to do, that's more difficult to swallow. But I managed to rise above it. I told Luke that if he had anything to say to me just say it to Andrew and let him tell me."

(on Luke) "I was surprised to see the way the movie was edited," Owen says at a press conference earlier in the day, smiling as he gets ready to spin some whimsy. "Because the way it was pitched to me was that I was kind of the hero of the piece. I was a little disappointed that I didn't really have the audience on my side."

Owen admits "it's a very difficult position to be in" as the middle child in life and in filmmaking.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Scarface’s Tony Montana vs. Michael Corleone: Which Al Pacino is the Boss of Bosses

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Scarface hadn’t been made when Pete Townshend’s 1974 song “The Punk and the Godfather” came out, but The Godfather certainly had. The Who’s anthem was a musical allegory about the rock scene, but the lyrics might as well be interpreted as a conversation between Michael Corleone and Tony Montana. Possibly right before they rumble.

Al Pacino played both men in both movies, and in each film, he begins the story as a punk. But in The Godfather, at least, he grows into the establishment. Michael becomes don. Tony was a shooting star on the other hand, one on a collision course with an unyielding atmosphere. Both roles are smorgasbords of possibilities to an actor, especially one who chased Richard III to every imaginable outcome. Each are also master criminals. But which is more masterful?

The obvious answer would seem to be Michael Corleone because he turned a criminal empire into a multi-billion-dollar international business, and lived to a ripe old age to regret it. Cent’anni, Michael. Tony Montana doesn’t live to see the fruits of his labor, but his career in crime is littered with the successes of excess.

Montana is a hungry, young, loose cannon, just like real-life’s “Crazy” Joe Gallo, who went up against the Profaci family in the street fight which Mario Puzo and Francis Ford Coppola used as inspiration on The Godfather. Gallo stand-in Virgil “The Turk” Sollozzo (Al Lettieri) did a lot of damage while he was trying to muscle in on Don Vito Corleone’s territory, selling white powder. Montana leaves a larger body count in the wake of his cocaine empire career.

Scarface is Pacino’s film. The whole movie is about Tony Montana and his meteoric rise through money, power and women. The Godfather is a mob movie, crowded with top rate talent in an ensemble case, but it belongs to Marlon Brando. While Michael inherits the position by The Godfather, Part II, he shares Godfather roles with Robert De Niro there, and people come away feeling a little sorry for Fredo. Michael isn’t the focus of an entire film until The Godfather, Part III, and by then folks were only distracted by his daughter. Tony Montana owns the screen from the moment it opens until his last splash in the fountain under the “World Is Yours” sign. The picture was his.

Making Your Bones on First Kills

Pacino brings little of the wisdom of his Godfather role to Scarface’s title character. This is by design. Every crime boss has to make his bones. In mafia organizations, real and cinematic, the button men on the street are called soldiers. And every soldier has to go through basic training before they’re ready to earn their button. Michael gets assassination training from his father’s most trusted capo, Pete Clemenza (Richard S. Castellano) before he goes out to enjoy the veal.

Scarface doesn’t give us many details of the crimes Tony was involved in while still in Cuba, so he makes his cinematic bones executing General Emilio Rebenga in the American detention camp for Cuban refugees. The two scenes are polar opposites in all ways but suspense.

When Michael is sitting at the dinner table with Sollozzo and Police Captain McCluskey (Sterling Hayden), he lets Sollozzo do all the talking, easing him into comfort before pulling the trigger. Tony barely lets Rebenga get a whimper in during his first onscreen hit, which plays closer to an execution. Tony covers the sounds of his own attack with a chant he himself begins. It is a brilliant overplay, especially when compared to another scene that resembles The Godfather, with Tony killing a mid-level gangster and a crooked cop towards the end of Scarface.

A major difference between the two roles is best summed up in a line Tony says in Scarface. He learned to speak English by watching James Cagney and Humphrey Bogart. Montana comes from the Cagney tradition of broad gangster characterizations. In The Godfather, Kay Adams (Diane Keaton) asks Michael if he’d prefer Ingrid Bergman. The young soldier has to think about it. This is because Pacino is miles removed here from Bogart, who played Bergman’s lover in Casablanca. Pacino’s two gangster icons approached their criminality differently, and Pacino gets to play in both yards.

Pacino remains on an even keel in the Godfather films, but gives a tour de force of violent expression in Scarface, which burns like white heat.

The Handling of Enemies and Vices

In Scarface, Pacino gets to be almost as over the top as he is in Dick Tracy. His accent would never make it past the modern culture board at The Simpsons, but he pulls it off in 1983 because he says so. Pacino bullies the audience into believing it. It’s that exact arrogance which makes us root for Tony Montana. We don’t want to be on his bad side. But the chilled reptilian stare of Michael Corleone is a visual representation of why Sicilians prefer their revenge served cold.

Michael is diabetic, and is usually seen drinking water in The Godfather films. Sure, he has an occasional glass or red wine, and possibly some Sambuca with his espresso, but Michael always keeps a clear head. Tony, not so much. He makes drunken scenes at his favorite nightclubs, and not only gets high on his own supply, but gets so nose deep in it he develops godlike delusions of superheroic grandeur.

Montana is impulsive, instinctive, and decisive. Tony kills his best friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) immediately upon finding him with his little sister Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Michael waits until his sister Connie (Talia Shire) is on a plane to Tahoe before he has her husband killed in a hit years in the planning. Later Michael hangs his head silently as the shotgun blast which kills his brother, Fredo (John Cazale), echoes in the distance.

Tony, meanwhile, continues yelling at Sosa’s right-hand man long after his brains are all over the automobile’s interior.

Clothes Make the Man

Tony is written to be charismatic. Even coked out of his mind, he’d be a better fit in Vegas with Fredo’s crowd than with wet blanket Michael in Tahoe. Tony sports white suits, satin shirts, and designer sunglasses. Michael accessorizes three-piece ensembles with an ascot. This isn’t to say Michael had any issues with getting somebody’s brains splattered all over his Ivy League suit.

Designed by Theadora Van Runkle, Michael preferred dupioni silk. That’s smart. The dark navy wool chalk-stripe suit Tony wears in his death scene was designed by Tommy Velasco and carries the class of a tuxedo. It was after 6pm. What do you think he is, a farmer?

“I’m the guy in the sky, flying high, flashing eyes. No surprise I told lies, I’m the punk from the gutter,” Roger Daltrey belts out on “The Punk and The Godfather.” This is exactly against the no-flash advice Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia) tries to impart on his young protégé in Scarface. Tony was raised not to take any advice other than his own. He also ignores his consigliere’s advice on several occasions. When Manny reminds Tony the pair of them were in a cage a year ago, the rebel gangster says he’s trying to forget that, he’s going after the boss’ girl.

“I come from the gutter,” Montana proudly contends. “I know that. I got no education but that’s okay. I know the street, and I’m making all the right connections.”

By contrast, Michael attended Dartmouth College and then dropped out to join the Marines after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Michael is both intelligent and well-connected, loosely modeled on Joseph Bonanno and Vito Genovese. He also accepts the wisdom of his father, who most closely resembled “The Prime Minister” of New York’s Five Families in the 1950s, mafia boss Frank Costello.

The Better Family Man

Pacino’s Don Michael Corleone has access to all his family’s connections, stretching back to the old world. He learns to expertly pull the strings of powerful men, like his father did, but as he grew, he bent. Michael is friends with senators, meets with the President of Cuba, has money in the Vatican, and confesses his sins to a Pope. Michael was insulated throughout his childhood and criminal career. If Tony gets in trouble, he has to get out of it himself, or with the help of a handful of low-level operatives.

Michael is the family rebel, risking his life and getting medals for strangers. He also gets to be both the prodigal son and the dutiful son. He gets the fatted calf and pays the piper. He even tips the baker’s helper for the effort. Michael comes back to both of his families, crime and birth, with a vengeance. He is there for his father the moment he is needed. Michael is the better family man. Tony’s mother is ashamed of him, and he completely ruins his sister’s wedding. Michael’s family means everything to him, and while he still manages to lose them, he actually maneuvers his two families well over rough waters for a very long run.

Tony Montana is the rebel’s rebel. Even before he tosses off his bandana at the dishwasher job to make a quick score, we knew. He was born bad, in the cinematically good way. This also makes Montana a natural at crime. In The Godfather, Michael has it in his blood as a Corleone, but has his heart set on college, a straight career, and a shot to bring his whole family into the American Dream, which for Montana only exists as a wet dream.

Tony never gets past the hormonal teenage phase of his love of America. He wants to love his new country to death. He is turned on by the dream. He wants to take it. Not earn it. No foreplay necessary, as he claims his latest victim’s wife as his own.

Managerial Skills

Michael is pretty good with his underlings, when he’s not having them garroted on the way to an airport or advising them to slit their wrists in a bath. He promises Clemenza he can have his own family once the Corleones relocate to Las Vegas. He lets Joe Zaza (Joe Mantegna) get away with murder as the guy he sets up to run his old territory in The Godfather, Part III. Michael doesn’t keep turncoats like his trusted caporegime Tessio (Abe Vigoda) around for old times’ sake, and he doesn’t suffer fools at all. It may seem he cuts Tom Hayden (Robert Duvall) loose a little fast, and without warning or due cause. But if he was a wartime consigliere, he would have seen it coming.

While Tony Montana may have a competitive and fast-tracked entry program for new workers (“hey, you got a job”), he’s also the guy who shoots his right-hand man Manny for marrying his sister. Tony exacts a brutal and dangerous revenge for the death of his friend Angel Fernandez in the Miami chainsaw massacre, but doesn’t lift a finger when his cohort Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham) is hanged to death from a helicopter by drug lord Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar). Michael does have a tendency to have his soldato kiss his ring, but he’s not entirely a .95 caliber pezzonovante.

Movies

Scarface: Where Tony Montana Went Wrong

By Tony Sokol

Movies

The Godfather Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone Proves a Little Less is Infinitely More

By Tony Sokol

One of the most important skills a boss must exhibit is how to delegate, and Corleone is a minor Machiavellian master at his delegation. He whispers orders from behind closed doors. Tony is more hands-on. The only reason he tells Manny to “kill that piece of shit” Frank is because he’s already humiliated his former boss into a shell of a real man.

Montana is in the trenches with his soldiers and sets standards by example. He shoots a guy on a crowded Miami street in broad daylight. Montana is a born triggerman and only reluctantly delegates the duty. He has 10 bodyguards when Sosa men raid his mansion fortress. He takes the invading force with one little friend, an M16A1 rifle with a customized grenade launcher. But it sure doesn’t help the employees getting murdered outside.

A Handle on Finances

We don’t know what kinds of criminal activities the Corleone family were involved in between 1958 and 1979. Still, Michael had proven himself a traditionalist and a bit of a prude, so he spends most of his career shaving his take from harmless vices and avoiding drugs, which he sees as a dirty business. But through whatever means, by The Godfather, Part III, Michael has earned enough capital to buy himself out of crime.

Michael gambles successfully on Wall Street, keeps the Genco olive oil company going, and invests in hotels, casinos, and movie studios. He’s got to be pulling in a billion dollars a year in legitimate business. He makes enough to pad the coffers of the Vatican, and his share of Immobiliare stocks pulls in another $1 billion.

Tony looks like he’s earning about $15 million a month. But it doesn’t look like he puts much stock in his future. He makes no investments, only purchases. His only visible holding is the salon his sister works in. But we also have to take into account that he built his empire from scratch. Michael inherited his. And while the head of the Corleone family can blackmail a U.S. senator with a tragic sex scandal, Montana fares no better than Al Capone with tax evasion.

Who Would Win in a Mob War?

Scarface is as violent as the 1932 Howard Hawk original. Blood is a big expense, and 42 people are killed in the 1985 film. It came out amid other over-the-top action blockbusters like First Blood and the contemporary reality of the South American drug trade. So, it would seem, the film has far more violence. But they are easily matched.

The Godfather has a horse’s head, Scarface has a chainsaw. Michael’s brother Sonny (James Caan) gets machine gunned to smithereens at the toll booth, Tony blows the lower limbs off his would-be assassins at a nightclub. Omar is lynched in a chopper, the upper echelon of the mob is taken out by helicopter fire in The Godfather, Part III. Tony and Michael each get to kill a cop.

Both mob figures survive assassination attempts. Michael loses his wife Apollonia in Sicily in a car bombing meant for him. He also avoids the trap Tessio sets at the meeting with Emilio Barzini (Richard Conte), on his turf, where Michael “will be safe.” Tony lives through his initial professionally ordered hit, as well as being saved by Manny from certain death by chainsaw.

While Michael Corleone is able to take care of Barzini, Victor Stracci, Carmine Cuneo, and Phillip Tattaglia – the leadership of the five families – at the end of The Godfather, Tony Montana can only put up a good fight. The Corleone family would win in a protracted war against Montana’s cartel, but there is a possibility Tony would have outlived Michael while the battles raged. Expert swordsmen aren’t afraid to duel the best in the field, but they’re scared of the worst.

As far as crime tactics and strategic villainy, Michael Corleone plays a game of chess. Tony Montana plays hopscotch. He wins by skipping cracks in the street, but he only rises as far as the pavement.

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pennyserenade · 3 years

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FIRST LINE GAME

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by my favorite domestic slut sister: @astroboots

PUBLISHED WORKS:

scenes from a marriage (javi fic): The designs of misfortune carve themselves in the woodwork that is Colombia, marking and scarring a beautiful country for the sake of one man’s empire.

(a/n): i wrote this on a whim one night while just trying to write for the sake of writing and look where it’s got us.

freedom is just another word (frankie morales fic): Sometimes, Frankie could not stand himself. Really, despise himself.

(a/n): i did this one because i’m cruel and a slut for angst

ungodly hour (agent whiskey fic): Her knees rest on his forearms, and she pushes his shoulders into the ground beneath him, earning a groan as his head bounces lightly off of the ground.

(a/n): i wrote this one because i just wanted to write but i didn’t wanted to take a break from scenes. also, i was listening to the ungodly hour album and it makes me feel like a bad bitch so i had a desire to character a leading character that was one.

NOT PUBLISHED WORKS:

the world is yours (maxwell lord fic): Step ahead into the past. It was a meaningless, get-rich sentiment stamped on the box of each Polaroid camera they sent out, one that she’s seen a million times before but never felt the depth of until now; Maxwell has said it, willing away the accent she loves, and she knows that this is exactly what they’ve done: They’ve stepped back into a joyless, oppressive past in order to preserve some inkling of a meaningful future.

(a/n): this will probably make a debut after i finish scenes and get somewhere with freedom. the step ahead into the past bit came from a poster at my work that i saw while i was on break. this is gonna be a fic exploring the beginnings of maxwell’s desire to be something, and i hope it covers the struggles he goes through a bit better than the film. also, i’m not gonna make him the villain as much as i am going to make him the anti-hero, because who can deny that michael corleone wasn’t a baddie once or twice hm ?

strobe lights (unpublished maxwell lord fic): It was a concoction of heavily artificial music--the sort that drips in materialism and would bling if sound was tangible--and Maxwell’s insistent stare that made her do it.

(a/n): this will probably never see the light of day because it has a no real meaning, but it’s older than any of the other stuff i’ve written for the p. characters. it was made before i created this blog, and just something that got the wheels in my head turning again.

scenes from a marriage (a very very early draft that i didn’t end up liking, javi fic): He had forgotten. Or she thought he had forgotten. She couldn’t be sure yet, but the hours kept ticking away, and he hadn’t shown up yet. Javier wasn’t ever the most timely man, but he was never this late.

a/n: what are my fics, if not angst preserving?

mama, you’ve been on my mind (a fic not belonging to the pedro fandom at all, but a story about two characters that my friend created): Something had gone taut inside of Henry the day he found out that Mari had gone missing. He’d worked hard to conceal it from Stella, expressing adequate amounts of concern and worry and frustration, but he never showed the absolute panic that rattled him to his very core. He didn’t want to upset her. Stella was a great woman, but no one could stand the shade of pale he would get when he was by himself, or the way he sobbed quietly thinking about her at night in the bathroom when he was alone and Stella was asleep. He hid it from her, something he had never, ever done with Stella, because he knew that this grief was more personal than he ever wanted her to know about.

(a/n): my friend gave me henry to write with her, and we attached pedro to his face to him, but the main story is about mari, a girl who henry had married when he was a younger. they divorced later on because they both came to the conclusion that mari loved women more than she ever would love him, but he never, ever stopped caring about her. mari eventually ends up getting murdered by one of her patients (she’s a therapist) because she rejects his advances, (but i promise the story doesn’t end there, because mari is very, very cool and my friend is such a bad ass writer, i just don’t want to give it all away). anyways, this takes place shortly after mari has gone missing. at this point, it has been about tenish years since henry and mari have split and he’s remarried to stella, a woman whom he loves dearly. henry and mari remained friends, and he’s not taking it well.

untitled mando fic: His first words to her had been these: It had to be done. They were muttered with such commitment and unwavering faith, she knew that he was a man who truly believed in whatever dogma he abided by.

(a/n): this was the first thing i was gonna publish on here but everything i wrote felt odd and out of place, and i think i need a bit more time to set on this one before it goes anywhere.

let it be: (a story i was writing for a school contest but never finished): There came an awful, tightening sensation in the middle of her chest, so strong it felt like she was about to double over there, in front of all of these strangers.

(a/n): this was gonna be a story about a young woman who has just found out she was pregnant. i set it during the day that the beatles played there rooftop concert because i liked the idea of this young woman being surrounded by many people who’s eyes were glued to the sky because the beatles are playing their brand new fucking album, and she’s just coming undone. this is gonna expose me as a beatles stan and that’s okay.

diane’s a friend of mine (a story i didn’t remember writing until just now, doing this): It had all started with Diane, a woman who had loved him so passionately that he’d dated her twice. Diane was an intelligent woman with the tendency to date men who were far below her, and he wasn’t the exception as much as he was the rule. He remembered the way she didn’t mind his desire to be and do nothing on Sunday mornings, and the kind way she would trace his nose and smile approvingly before saying, “You’ve got the nose of greek gods, Francis.”

(a/n): this must’ve been written during my al pacino phase a couple of months back, and i think, as i scan over it, this is the story i wanted to write about an actor who has spent his entire life as someone else, just a plethora of different characters, so when he eventually retires, he begins to struggle with who he is. i think i wanted it to be told through the stories of women he’s loved during those years, because it’s the only time he remembers being himself.

untitled roman sionis fic: roman sionis reminded frankie terribly of fredo corleone. he was void of that pure innocence—that essence of goodness that made fredo such a lovable character—but he had the stupidity. it was a stupidity that stopped him from being something more.

(a/n): i have written about thirty roman sionis drafts but none of them amounted to anything. i think the character is neat, and had a very big ewan mcgregor phase.

an untitled fic set after the events of the panic in needle park, if anyone of you has seen that: This is where I am. This is where my stuff is. The wind was biting this morning, reddening Bobby’s cheeks as he stood on the sidewalk waiting for Eileen.

(a/n): this was definitely during my al pacino phase, it’s about how bobby gets clean and has started life with another woman because he couldn’t stay with helen because they enabled each other too much. if i’m ever gonna do anything for any of you please let it be to turn you onto al pacino’s movies in the ‘70s. all of them are fantastic, and the panic in needle park the first installment. this movie lead to al giving his famed role as michael corleone later on, and it covers a lot of topics i didn’t expect, like drug addiction and poverty and i just think al pacino is amazing in it. i cannot believe that his first movie. here’s the link to the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watchv=0ahe2zepONg&ab_channel=JulienPinault. drug tw and needle tw.

okay i think that is all i have and i know it’s not twenty but i can’t find any more.

tagging: @mourningbirds1, @disgruntledspacedad and anyone else who wants to do it because i think you’re all neat and lovely.

#misc.#tag games.

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calvinmaxfield · 3 years

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( booboo stewart. twenty-four. he/him. ) i think i just saw CALVIN MAXFIELD ride by on a golf cart . at least i think it was them . after all , STRAIGHT TO HELL BY THE CLASH was blasting on the transistor radio . maybe they were on their way to work , i hear they’re a LINE COOK . but they totally could have been on their way to STEAL SHOOTERS FROM THE BEVERAGE CART . guess we’ll never know . you’ll definitely know its them when you see PATCHES ON A WORN JEAN JACKET , CIGARETTES FORGOTTEN IN THE WASHING MACHINE , & AN UNUSED MUSICAL THEATRE DEGREE around the country club . let’s just hope they stay off the green after hours or else they sprinklers will get them ! ( haley. twenty-two. est. she/her. )

𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 : calvin antonio maxfield . 𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒(𝑠) : cal , maxxie . 𝑎𝑔𝑒 : twenty - five . 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ : march 4th , 1996 . 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑡 : pisces sun , virgo moon , capricorn rising . ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑛 : north caldwell , new jersey . 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 : bisexual . 𝑜𝑐𝑐𝑢𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 : line cook begrudgingly . has bigger aspirations for himself but settles for an easy job over one he has to work for . aspiring in everything film whether it be acting , screenwriting , direction or anything in between . has also entertained stand-up comedy but had never taken the steps towards achieving that goal either .

ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 : self proclaimed narcissist but is super self aware about his insecurities , is a whore lol , seems like he’d be the least judgmental person but is secretly super judgmental , will risk it all for a sexual connection possibly resulting in a romantic one , hasn’t cried in years , female manipulator music , thinks being called a theatre kid is a slur but was super well known for getting every lead role in high school and college , wants to be a stand up comedian or actor , could kill for a woman to braid his hair , will do anything for attention , noncommittal , the loudest person in a room but is insecure about his volume , the class clown , could be your friend for a lifetime and you still wouldn’t be sure if he likes you or not .

𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚 : booboo stewart . ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟 : black . 𝑒𝑦𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟 : brown . ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 : 5 ft 8 “ . 𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑠 : to be determined but a littered , jumbled sleeve of meaningless drunk tattoos mostly . 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑦𝑙𝑒 : heavy punk rock . jean jackets plastered with patches , heavy boots , flannels tied at the waist line . heavy rings on slender fingers . a hair tie on each wrist . jeans or chef pants , no in between . fucks with an occasional open button down tee .

𝑚𝑦𝑒𝑟 - 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑦𝑝𝑒 : the debater , entp . 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 : chaotic good . 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 : black cold brew with a cigarette , mindlessly rewatching taxi driver for comfort , quoting the sopranos , being right , comfortable silence , busy environments , making others smile . 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 : gossip , commitment , the transition from autumn to winter , cats , folding laundry , hungover anxiety.

𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 : ( drug tw , child neglect tw ) .

the class clown , the smart ass . these are just two of the labels that have been placed on calvin maxfield his whole life . he’s not even sure if he likes being called them , to know he’s being perceived by others is to know he’s truly alive . that he is seen . on one hand , he’d only ever wanted a disappearing act . one where he slips into the background with anyone truly noticing . a universe where he’s not putting on a face of clown make up to entertain . but on the other hand , he’s good at it . he’s good at entertaining and he likes seeing people smile . so why does calvin have so many qualms with being well liked ? it’s the expectations . an expectation to always be happy . no bad days , no turning off the constant sunshine smile . even if his mind is a storm far greater than he can conquer .

there’s nothing more freudian than blaming your short comings on your childhood . at least that’s what calvin will tell you anyways . but deep down , he knows it’s a mask . that his childhood fucked him up more than he has even begun to process . his therapist pries but he pays her no mind , wishing to be considered more of a strong silent type than one who speaks with loose lips . but his tendencies to make others happy lie within his greatest coping mechanism with is humor . one he developed during his childhood watching movies far too mature for his underdeveloped mind . robert dinero , al pacino , so many tough men who taught him how to be strong in the face of adversities . movie stars were his role models because dad was always too high to entertain the thought of his son , shooting up the day’s dose in front of him while the bills piled high on the kitchen table . calvin’s mother wondered if she’d ever see a day where the world wasn’t so bleak , where she could protect her son from the horrors of the world . but she couldn’t even protect him from the one inside her very home . not to mention it was hard to supervise when working more jobs than seemed possible .

but calvin grew up with thick skin and a cut throat attitude . he slept soundly knowing that his mother loved him and one day his father would see him succeed and kick himself in the ass for mistreating him . but calvin’s brilliance was never a revenge thing . he owed it to himself to be good at something . that something just so happened to be theatre . it was clear to the teachers that had maxxie the class clown sitting in their back row that he liked to perform so his drama teacher came an pursued him . at first hesitant , he remembered some of the greats . al , robert , and suddenly he was in . though he insisted on not being musically inclined , calvin quickly blossomed in the musicals and found his voice through his high school’s productions . he was finally receiving the validation he was deprived of his entire childhood . standing ovations , applause , genuine eye contact that came with compliments , loving hugs . he couldn’t get enough . so it only made sense that he pursued musical theatre in college .

college was when things took a turn for the worst . a slacker , calvin could no long get away with thing solely because his teachers liked him and enjoyed his performances . now everyone was just like him . a talented class clown who thrived on applause and validation from others . bad habits crept their way into his life at this time seeing as he was drinking and experimenting with drugs pretty heavily . what was a career for everyone else was quickly turning into a hobby for him as his poor coping mechanisms and social life hopped in the driver’s seat . this life in his life was all about self sabotage . missing classes to drink , going to acting workshops hungover , sleeping with friend’s girlfriends , doing things just because he could . it was mind blowing that he ever received a degree . but with college coming to an end , he addressed that his period of time with substance abuse were some of the worst years of his life and he wanted to tone back . focus on himself . but old habits die hard .

calvin doesn’t really know how he ended up in the highlands . maybe it was his lack of drive or washed up attitude , but it hard to give his life any real thought from behind the line in the kitchen. all he knows is he needs to get the fuck out .

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wanted connection:

ride or die ( f ) : ever since i created calvin as a muse i’ve wanted to him to have a girl best friend who literally completes him. calls him out on his bullshit , tell him when he’s being a dick but also helps him navigate through his life and feelings . bonus points if they’re a polar opposite of him like super feminine .

ex ( m/f/nb ) : calvin is toxic af so i’m down for plotting whatever honestly i just want him to have an ex

fwb ( m/f/nb ) : again , calvin is a bisexual and toxic whore so bring him all your muses to casually fuck

roommate ( m/f/nb )

coworkers

enemies ?? frenemies ?? frenemies with benefits ???

#highlandsintro #about #here's calvin :)

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mattbrothersscriptwriter · 4 years

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My Top 20 Films of 2019 - Part Two

I don’t think I’ve had a year where my top ten jostled and shifted as much as this one did - these really are the best of the best and my personal favourites of 2019.

10. Toy Story 4

I think we can all agree that Toy Story 3 was a pretty much perfect conclusion to a perfect trilogy right? About as close as is likely to get, I’m sure. I shared the same trepidation when part four was announced, especially after some underwhelming sequels like Finding Dory and Cars 3 (though I do have a lot of time for Monsters University and Incredibles 2). So maybe it’s because the odds were so stacked against this being good but I thought it was wonderful. A truly existential nightmare of an epilogue that does away with Andy (and mostly kids altogether) to focus on the dreams and desires of the toys themselves - separate from their ‘duties’ as playthings to biological Gods. What is their purpose in life without an owner? Can they be their own person and carve their own path? In the case of breakout new character Forky (Tony Hale), what IS life? Big big questions for a cash grab kids films huh?

The animation is somehow yet another huge leap forward (that opening rainstorm!), Bo Peep’s return is excellently pitched and the series tradition of being unnervingly horrifying is back as well thanks to those creepy ventriloquist dolls! Keanu Reeves continues his ‘Keanuassaince‘ as the hilarious Duke Caboom and this time, hopefully, the ending at least feels finite. This series means so much to me: I think the first movie is possibly the tightest, most perfect script ever written, the third is one of my favourites of the decade and growing up with the franchise (I was 9 when the first came out, 13 for part two, 24 for part three and now 32 for this one), these characters are like old friends so of course it was great to see them again. All this film had to do was be good enough to justify its existence and while there are certainly those out there that don’t believe this one managed it, I think the fact that it went as far as it did showed that Pixar are still capable of pushing boundaries and exploring infinity and beyond when they really put their minds to it.

9. The Nightingale

Hoo boy. Already controversial with talk of mass walkouts (I witnessed a few when this screened at Sundance London), it’s not hard to see why but easy to understand. Jennifer Kent (The Babadook) is a truly fearless filmmaker following up her acclaimed suburban horror movie come grief allegory with a period revenge tale set in the Tasmanian wilderness during British colonial rule in the early 1800s. It’s rare to see the British depicted with the monstrous brutality for which they were known in the distant colonies and this unflinching drama sorely needed an Australian voice behind the camera to do it justice.

The film is front loaded with some genuinely upsetting, nasty scenes of cruel violence but its uncensored brutality and the almost casual nature of its depiction is entirely the point - this was normalised behaviour over there and by treating it so matter of factly, it doesn’t slip into gratuitous ‘movie violence’. It is what it is. And what it is is hard to watch. If anything, as Kent has often stated, it’s still toned down from the actual atrocities that occurred so it’s a delicate balance that I think Kent more than understands. Quoting from an excellent Vanity Fair interview she did about how she directs, Kent said “I think audiences have become very anaesthetised to violence on screen and it’s something I find disturbing... People say ‘these scenes are so shocking and disturbing’. Of course they are. We need to feel that. When we become so removed from violence on screen, this is a very irresponsible thing. So I wanted to put us right within the frame with that person experiencing the loss of everything they hold dear”.

Aisling Franciosi is next level here as a woman who has her whole life torn from her, leaving her as nothing but a raging husk out for vengeance. It would be so easy to fall into odd couple tropes once she teams up with reluctant native tracker Billy (an equally impressive newcomer, Baykali Ganambarr) but the film continues to stay true to the harsh racism of the era, unafraid to depict our heroine - our point of sympathy - as horrendously racist towards her own ally. Their partnership is not easily solidified but that makes it all the stronger when they star to trust each other. Sam Claflin is also career best here, weaponizing his usual charm into dangerous menace and even after cementing himself as the year’s most evil villain, he can still draw out the humanity in such a broken and corrupt man.

Gorgeously shot in the Academy ratio, the forest landscape here is oppressive and claustrophobic. Kent also steps back into her horror roots with some mesmerising, skin crawling dream scenes that amplify the woozy nightmarish tone and overbearing sense of dread. Once seen, never forgotten, this is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea (and that’s fine) but when cinema can affect you on such a visceral level and be this powerful, reflective and honest about our own past, it’s hard to ignore. Stunning.

8. The Irishman

Aka Martin Scorsese’s magnum opus, I did manage to see this one in a cinema before the Netflix drop and absolutely loved it. I’ve watched 85 minute long movies that felt longer than this - Marty’s mastery of pace, energy and knowing when to let things play out in agonising detail is second to none. This epic tale of the life of Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro) really is the cinematic equivalent of having your cake and eating it too, allowing Scorsese to run through a greatest hits victory lap of mobster set pieces, alpha male arguments, a decades spanning life story and one (last?) truly great Joe Pesci performance before simply letting the story... continue... to a natural, depressing and tragic ending, reflecting the emptiness of a life built on violence and crime.

For a film this long, it’s impressive how much the smallest details make the biggest impacts. A stammering phone call from a man emotionally incapable of offering any sort of condolence. The cold refusal of forgiveness from a once loving daughter. A simple mirroring of a bowl of cereal or a door left slightly ajar. These are the parts of life that haunt us all and it’s what we notice the most in a deliberately lengthy biopic that shows how much these things matter when everything else is said and done. The violence explodes in sudden, sharp bursts, often capping off unbearably tense sequences filled with the everyday (a car ride, a conversation about fish, ice cream...) and this contrast between the whizz bang of classic Scorsese and the contemplative nature of Silence era Scorsese is what makes this film feel like such an accomplishment. De Niro is FINALLY back but it’s the memorably against type role for Pesci and an invigorated Al Pacino who steals this one, along with a roll call of fantastic cameos, with perhaps the most screentime given to the wonderfully petty Stephen Graham as Tony Pro, not to mention Anna Paquin’s near silent performance which says more than possibly anyone else.

Yes, the CG de-aging is misguided at best, distracting at worst (I never really knew how old anyone was meant to be at any given time... which is kinda a problem) but like how you get used to it really quickly when it’s used well, here I kinda got past it being bad in an equally fast amount of time and just went with it. Would it have been a different beast had they cast younger actors to play them in the past? Undoubtedly. But if this gives us over three hours of Hollywood’s finest giving it their all for the last real time together, then that’s a compromise I can live with.

7. The Last Black Man in San Francisco

Wow. I was in love with this film from the moving first trailer but then the film itself surpassed all expectations. This is a true indie film success story, with lead actor Jimmie Fails developing the idea with director Joe Talbot for years before Kickstarting a proof of concept and eventually getting into Sundance with short film American Paradise, which led to the backing of this debut feature through Plan B and A24. The deeply personal and poetic drama follows a fictionalised version of Jimmie, trying to buy back an old Victorian town house he claims was built by his grandfather, in an act of rebellion against the increasingly gentrified San Francisco that both he and director Talbot call home.

The film is many things - a story of male friendship, of solidarity within our community, of how our cities can change right from underneath us - it moves to the beat of it’s own drum, with painterly cinematography full of gorgeous autumnal colours and my favourite score of the year from Emile Mosseri. The performances, mostly by newcomers or locals outside of brilliant turns from Jonathan Majors, Danny Glover and Thora Birch, are wonderful and the whole thing is such a beautiful love letter to the city that it makes you ache for a strong sense of place in your own home, even if your relationship with it is fractured or strained. As Jimmie says, “you’re not allowed to hate it unless you love it”.

For me, last year’s Blindspotting (my favourite film of the year) tackled gentrification within California more succinctly but this much more lyrical piece of work ebbs and flows through a number of themes like identity, family, memory and time. It’s a big film living inside a small, personal one and it is not to be overlooked.

6. Little Women

I had neither read the book nor seen any prior adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 novel so to me, this is by default the definitive telling of this story. If from what I hear, the non linear structure is Greta Gerwig’s addition, then it’s a total slam dunk. It works so well in breaking up the narrative and by jumping from past to present, her screenplay highlights certain moments and decisions with a palpable sense of irony, emotional weight or knowing wink. Getting to see a statement made with sincere conviction and then paid off within seconds, can be both a joy and a surefire recipe for tears. Whether it’s the devastating contrast between scenes centred around Beth’s illness or the juxtaposition of character’s attitudes to one another, it’s a massive triumph. Watching Amy angrily tell Laurie how she’s been in love with him all her life and then cutting back to her childishly making a plaster cast of her foot for him (’to remind him how small her feet are’) is so funny.

Gerwig and her impeccable cast bring an electric energy to the period setting, capturing the big, messy realities of family life with a mix of overwhelming cross-chatter and the smallest of intimate gestures. It’s a testament to the film that every sister feels fully serviced and represented, from Beth’s quiet strength to Amy’s unforgivable sibling rivalry. Chris Cooper’s turn as a stoic man suffering almost imperceptible grief is a personal heartbreaking favourite.

The book’s (I’m assuming) most sweeping romantic statements are wonderfully delivered, full of urgent passion and relatable heartache, from Marmie’s (Laura Dern) “I’m angry nearly every day of my life” moment to Jo’s (Saoirse Ronan) painful defiance of feminine attributes not being enough to cure her loneliness. The sheer amount of heart and warmth in this is just remarkable and I can easily see it being a film I return to again and again.

5. Booksmart

2019 has been a banner year for female directors, making their exclusion from some of the early awards conversations all the more damning. From this list alone, we have Lulu Wang, Jennifer Kent and Greta Gerwig. Not to mention Lorene Scafaria (Hustlers), Melina Matsoukas (Queen & Slim), Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe (Greener Grass), Sophie Hyde (Animals) and Rose Glass (Saint Maud - watch out for THIS one in 2020, it’s brilliant). Perhaps the most natural transition from in front of to behind the camera has been made by Olivia Wilde, who has created a borderline perfect teen comedy that can make you laugh till you cry, cry till you laugh and everything in-between.

Subverting the (usually male focused) ‘one last party before college’ tropes that fuel the likes of Superbad and it’s many inferior imitators, Booksmart follows two overachievers who, rather than go on a coming of age journey to get some booze or get laid, simply want to indulge in an insane night of teenage freedom after realising that all of the ‘cool kids’ who they assumed were dropouts, also managed to get a place in all of the big universities. It’s a subtly clever remix of an old favourite from the get go but the committed performances from Kaitlyn Dever and Beanie Feldstein put you firmly in their shoes for the whole ride.

It’s a genuine blast, with big laughs and a bigger heart, portraying a supportive female friendship that doesn’t rely on hokey contrivances to tear them apart, meaning that when certain repressed feelings do come to the surface, the fallout is heartbreaking. As I stated in a twitter rave after first seeing it back in May, every single character, no matter how much they might appear to be simply representing a stock role or genre trope, gets their moment to be humanised. This is an impeccably cast ensemble of young unknowns who constantly surprise and the script is a marvel - a watertight structure without a beat out of place, callbacks and payoffs to throwaway gags circle back to be hugely important and most of all, the approach taken to sexuality and representation feels so natural. I really think it is destined to be looked back on and represent 2019 the way Heathers does ‘88, Clueless ‘95 or Easy A 2010. A new high benchmark for crowd pleasing, indie comedy - teen or otherwise.

4. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt is one of my favourite actors and one who, despite still being a huge A-lister even after 30 years in the game, never seems to get enough credit for the choices he makes, the movies he stars in and also the range of stories he helps produce through his company, Plan B. 2019 was something of a comeback year for Pitt as an actor with the insanely measured and controlled lead performance seen here in Ad Astra and the more charismatic and chaotic supporting role in Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood.

I love space movies, especially those that are more about broken people blasting themselves into the unknown to search for answers within themselves... which manages to sum up a lot of recent output in this weirdly specific sub-genre. First Man was a devastating look at grief characterised by a man who would rather go to a desolate rock than have to confront what he lost, all while being packaged as a heroic biopic with a stunning score. Gravity and The Martian both find their protagonists forced to rely on their own cunning and ingenuity to survive and Interstellar looked at the lengths we go to for those we love left behind. Smaller, arty character studies like High Life or Moon are also astounding. All of this is to say that Ad Astra takes these concepts and runs with them, challenging Pitt to cross the solar system to talk some sense into his long thought dead father (Tommy Lee Jones). But within all the ‘sad dad’ stuff, there’s another film in here just daring you to try and second guess it - one that kicks things off with a terrifying free fall from space, gives us a Mad Max style buggy chase on the moon and sidesteps into horror for one particular set-piece involving a rabid baboon in zero G! It manages to feel so completely nuts, so episodic in structure, that I understand why a lot of people were turned off - feeling that the overall film was too scattershot to land the drama or too pondering to have any fun with. I get the criticisms but for me, both elements worked in tandem, propelling Pitt on this (assumed) one way journey at a crazy pace whilst sitting back and languishing in the ‘bigger themes’ more associated with a Malik or Kubrick film. Something that Pitt can sell me on in his sleep by this point.

I loved the visuals from cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar), loved the imagination and flair of the script from director James Gray and Ethan Gross and loved the score by Max Richter (with Lorne Balfe and Nils Frahm) but most of all, loved Pitt, proving that sometimes a lot less, is a lot more. The sting of hearing the one thing he surely knew (but hoped he wouldn’t) be destined to hear from his absent father, acted almost entirely in his eyes during a third act confrontation, summed up the movie’s brilliance for me - so much so that I can forgive some of the more outlandish ‘Mr Hyde’ moments of this thing’s alter ego... like, say, riding a piece of damaged hull like a surfboard through a meteor debris field!

3. Avengers: Endgame

It’s no secret that I think Marvel, the MCU in particular, have been going from strength to strength in recent years, slowly but surely taking bigger risks with filmmakers (the bonkers Taika Waititi, the indie darlings of Ryan Coogler, Cate Shortland and Chloe Zhao) whilst also carefully crafting an entertaining, interconnected universe of characters and stories. But what is the point of building up any movie ‘universe’ if you’re not going to pay it off and Endgame is perhaps the strongest conclusion to eleven years of movie sequels that fans could have possibly hoped for.

Going into this thing, the hype was off the charts (and for good reason, with it now being the highest grossing film of all time) but I remember souring on the first entry of this two-parter, Infinity War, during the time between initial release and Endgame’s premiere. That film had a game-changing climax, killing off half the heroes (and indeed the universe’s population) and letting the credits role on the villain having achieved his ultimate goal. It was daring, especially for a mammoth summer blockbuster but obviously, we all knew the deaths would never be permanent, especially with so many already-announced sequels for now ‘dusted’ characters. However, it wasn’t just the feeling that everything would inevitably be alright in the end. For me, the characters themselves felt hugely under-serviced, with arguably the franchise’s main goody two shoes Captain America being little more than a beardy bloke who showed up to fight a little bit. Basically what I’m getting at is that I felt Endgame, perhaps emboldened by the giant runtime, managed to not only address these character slights but ALSO managed to deliver the most action packed, comic booky, ‘bashing your toys together’ final fight as well.

It’s a film of three parts, each pretty much broken up into one hour sections. There’s the genuinely new and interesting initial section following our heroes dealing with the fact that they lost... and it stuck. Thor angrily kills Thanos within the first fifteen minutes but it’s a meaningless action by this point - empty revenge. Cutting to five years later, we get to see how defeat has affected them, for better or worse, trying to come to terms with grief and acceptance. Cap tries to help the everyman, Black Widow is out leading an intergalactic mop up squad and Thor is wallowing in a depressive black hole. It’s a shocking and vibrantly compelling deconstruction of the whole superhero thing and it gives the actors some real meat to chew on, especially Robert Downy Jr here who goes from being utterly broken to fighting within himself to do the right thing despite now having a daughter he doesn’t want to lose too. Part two is the trip down memory lane, fan service-y time heist which is possibly the most fun section of any of these movies, paying tribute to the franchise’s past whilst teetering on a knife’s edge trying to pull off a genuine ‘mission impossible’. And then it explodes into the extended finale which pays everyone off, demonstrates some brilliantly imaginative action and sticks the landing better than it had any right to. In a year which saw the ending of a handful of massive geek properties, from Game of Thrones to Star Wars, it’s a miracle even one of them got it right at all. That Endgame managed to get it SO right is an extraordinary accomplishment and if anything, I think Marvel may have shot themselves in the foot as it’s hard to imagine anything they can give us in the future having the intense emotional weight and momentum of this huge finale.

2. Knives Out

Rian Johnson has been having a ball leaping into genre sandpits and stirring shit up, from his teen spin on noir in Brick to his quirky con man caper with The Brothers Bloom, his time travel thriller Looper and even his approach to the Star Wars mythos in The Last Jedi. Turning his attention to the relatively dead ‘whodunnit’ genre, Knives Out is a perfect example of how to celebrate everything that excites you about a genre whilst weaponizing it’s tropes against your audience’s baggage and preconceptions.

An impeccable cast have the time of their lives here, revelling in playing self obsessed narcissists who scramble to punt the blame around when the family’s patriarch, a successful crime novelist (Christopher Plummer), winds up dead. Of course there’s something fishy going on so Daniel Craig’s brilliantly dry southern detective Benoit Blanc is called in to investigate.There are plenty of standouts here, from Don Johnson’s ignorant alpha wannabe Richard to Michael Shannon’s ferocious eldest son Walt to Chris Evan’s sweater wearing jock Ransom, full of unchecked, white privilege swagger. But the surprise was the wholly sympathetic, meek, vomit prone Marta, played brilliantly by Ana de Armas, cast against her usual type of sultry bombshell (Knock Knock, Blade Runner 2049), to spearhead the biggest shake up of the genre conventions. To go into more detail would begin to tread into spoiler territory but by flipping the audience’s engagement with the detective, we’re suddenly on the receiving end of the scrutiny and the tension derived from this switcheroo is genius and opens up the second act of the story immensely.

The whole thing is so lovingly crafted and the script is one of the tightest I’ve seen in years. The amount of setup and payoff here is staggering and never not hugely satisfying, especially as it heads into it’s final stretch. It really gives you some hope that you could have such a dense, plotty, character driven idea for a story and that it could survive the transition from page to screen intact and for the finished product to work as well as it does. I really hope Johnson returns to tell another Benoit Blanc mystery and judging by the roaring box office success (currently over $200 million worldwide for a non IP original), I certainly believe he will.

1. Eighth Grade

My film of the year is another example of the power of cinema to put us in other people’s shoes and to discover the traits, fears, joys and insecurities that we all share irregardless. It may shock you to learn this but I have never been a 13 year old teenage girl trying to get by in the modern world of social media peer pressure and ‘influencer’ culture whilst crippled with personal anxiety. My school days almost literally could not have looked more different than this (less Instagram, more POGs) and yet, this is a film about struggling with oneself, with loneliness, with wanting more but not knowing how to get it without changing yourself and the careless way we treat those with our best interests at heart in our selfish attempt to impress peers and fit in. That is understandable. That is universal. And as I’m sure I’ve said a bunch of times in this list, movies that present the most specific worldview whilst tapping into universal themes are the ones that inevitably resonate the most.

Youtuber and comedian Bo Burnham has crafted an impeccable debut feature, somehow portraying a generation of teens at least a couple of generations below his own, with such laser focused insight and intimate detail. It’s no accident that this film has often been called a sort of social-horror, with cringe levels off the charts and recognisable trappings of anxiety and depression in every frame. The film’s style services this feeling at every turn, from it’s long takes and nauseous handheld camerawork to the sensory overload in it’s score (take a bow Anna Meredith) and the naturalistic performances from all involved. Burnham struck gold when he found Elsie Fisher, delivering the most painful and effortlessly real portrayal of a tweenager in crisis as Kayla. The way she glances around skittishly, the way she is completely lost in her phone, the way she talks, even the way she breathes all feeds into the illusion - the film is oftentimes less a studio style teen comedy and more a fly on the wall documentary.

This is a film that could have coasted on being a distant, social media based cousin to more standard fare like Sex Drive or Superbad or even Easy A but it goes much deeper, unafraid to let you lower your guard and suddenly hit you with the most terrifying scene of casually attempted sexual aggression or let you watch this pure, kindhearted girl falter and question herself in ways she shouldn’t even have to worry about. And at it’s core, there is another beautiful father/daughter relationship, with Josh Hamilton stuck on the outside looking in, desperate to help Kayla with every fibre of his being but knowing there are certain things she has to figure out for herself. It absolutely had me and their scene around a backyard campfire is one of the year’s most touching.

This is a truly remarkable film that I think everyone should seek out but I’m especially excited for all the actual teenage girls who will get to watch this and feel seen. This isn’t about the popular kid, it isn’t about the dork who hangs out with his or her own band of misfits. This is about the true loner, that person trying everything to get noticed and still ending up invisible, that person trying to connect through the most disconnected means there is - the internet - and everything that comes with it. Learning that the version of yourself you ‘portray’ on a Youtube channel may act like they have all the answers but if you’re kidding yourself then how do you grow?

When I saw this in the cinema, I watched a mother take her seat with her two daughters, aged probably at around nine and twelve. Possibly a touch young for this, I thought, and I admit I cringed a bit on their behalf during some very adult trailers but in the end, I’m glad their mum decided they were mature enough to see this because a) they had a total blast and b) life simply IS R rated for the most part, especially during our school years, and those girls being able to see someone like Kayla have her story told on the big screen felt like a huge win. I honestly can’t wait to see what Burnham or Fisher decide to do next. 2019 has absolutely been their year... and it’s been a hell of a year.

#top 20 #films of the year #films of 2019 #10-1 #toy story 4 #the nightingale #the irishman #the last black man in san francisco #little women #booksmart #ad astra #avengers endgame #knives out #eighth grade

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Is It Really THAT Bad?

Gigli is perhaps one of the most infamous films ever made. Originally to be a straight mob film brought to the world by Martin Brest, director of classics such as Beverly Hills Cop, Midnight Run, and Meet Joe Black, the executives decided to do what they do best: meddle. The film was then changed into a rom-com vehicle for stars Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez to bank on their wildly popular real-life romance. Unfortunately for the execs, there wouldn’t be much to cash in, since the film bombed to the tune of less than a tenth of its budget. And that would be one thing if it were merely a bomb, that wouldn’t be something worth discussing to any great degree, but this movie goes beyond that.

This film has widely been panned as one of the worst films ever made, bar none. It frequently finds its way onto “worst films of all time” lists, was mocked as a side effect of computer viruses in Weird Al’s song “Virus Alert,” and is just in general regarded as a terrible, terrible film. Ben Affleck certainly thinks so; according to Matt Damon, his eye twitches when the film is mentioned, and according to Kevin Smith, bringing this movie up is a surefire way to end any argument you might be having with Affleck. It’s not surprising he feels this way about the film either, since this film’s failure helped derail his career until he managed to bounce back later in the 2000s and 2010s with better roles and some great directing gigs. But here and now, in the year 2020, far removed from the media craze surrounding the “Bennifer” romance and all the craziness this film had to offer, I must ask an important question:

Is it really THAT bad?

The Good

So what’s really shocking here is that there are some genuinely great performances, though sadly most of them only last a single scene. I think the one that most people go to is Christopher Walken as a cop who wanders into Gigli’s apartment and rambles on for a few minutes, eventually going off about pie before walking out of the film, never to be seen again. It brings to mind such memorably awkward one-scene appearances such as his minor role in Pulp Fiction with how utterly bizarre it is. As much as I love Walken, though, I have to say the real scene-stealing one-scene wonder here is Al Pacino as the mob boss Starkman, who manages to make his mark on the film with but a single scene under his belt. He comes across as genuinely affable and yet completely unhinged, cheerfully discussing facts about the human thumb before blowing the brains out of an idiotic subordinate and gleefully showing us how to be truly intimidating. It’s easily the best performance in the movie.

Well, it would be at least if not for Justin Bartha of National Treasure fame. He plays a mentally handicapped man named Brian, and while he’s certainly playing into the Hollywood ideas of the mentally handicapped, he doesn’t ever feel totally offensive or cringey. The fact he’s never really treated as the butt of the jokes and actually gets a relatively happy ending is pretty good too. Bartha definitely did a good job with this character who I feel would likely be horribly offensive in the hands of others.

The movie is also genuinely amusing at a few points, and not entirely in an ironic sense. Scenes where Ricki intimidates some punks at a restaurant are amusing, but sadly they are few and far between. Ironic enjoyment can definitely be gleaned though, as there’s a lot of awkward dialogue or just strange and ridiculous scenes (again: Christopher Walken and Al Pacino).

The Bad

So weirdly enough, the biggest issue with this film is actually the two leads, which is even more baffling because they were dating in real life. I guess the movie is something of a cautionary tale detailing how some couples just don’t function as well onscreen as they do offscreen. Anyway, let’s look at their characters one at a time:

First is Ben Affleck’s Gigli, the title character. Now, at the start of the film, Gigli is your average mob enforcer, but as soon as he meets the self-described lesbian Ricki, he becomes what is known as a

In fact, Gigli might be one of the biggest, saddest simps of all time, because the girl he’s after is supposedly a lesbian (we’ll get to that in a bit). Affleck managed to play this character type far better in the film Chasing Amy, but he had the luck of being directed by Kevin Smith in his prime with a script that wasn’t forced to shoehorn in a popular tabloid romance. Here, his every romantic interaction becomes awkward, and his declaration of love is just sad, creepy, and pathetic. What’s worse, in the end, he seemingly gets the girl, a stark contrast from Chasing Amy. It comes off as really gross and cringeworthy.

Then we get to Ricki. While she’s written a lot better for the most part, the fact she is referred to exclusively as a lesbian for the entire movie is a bit… odd. It leads to so many unfortunate implications, cringeworthy moments, and perhaps one of the most uncomfortable sex scenes ever, and all of this could have been avoided if the film had stopped calling her a lesbian and used a neat little word that begins with a B: BISEXUAL. It is abundantly clear Ricki is a bisexual from the point she meets Gigli’s mother, but this possibility is never brought up or discussed at any point whatsoever in the film. Ricki is a lesbian as far as this film is concerned, even after she has sex with Gigli and decides to run off and start a life with him in the end.

The lack of romantic chemistry between these two makes all the scenes that are flirtatious between them come off as awkward, and frankly there’s just something nasty about a film where a guy basically pesters a “lesbian” until she relents and has sex with him, something only exacerbated by Ricki saying “It’s turkey time. Gobble gobble” to get him to engage in intercourse with her. I’m guessing there was a similar dynamic between them in earlier drafts that had this creepy romance shoehorned in when the execs decided to make this a “Bennifer” vehicle. It’s unfortunate because for the most part, the two play off of each other really well, but when it comes time for the lovey-dovey stuff, they just drop the ball hard.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

This movie has a legendary reputation that it most definitely does not live up to. Gigli is honestly an okay, if still trashy, film. I would not argue this movie is high art, or even great, but it’s certainly not unwatchably bad and certainly veers closer into the waters of “so bad it’s good” than genuinely horrible. The awkward line deliveries and solid performances from side characters certainly help keep this film afloat, even when the awful romance shoved into this goofy gangster film tries its hardest to sink it.

With an IMDB score of 2.5, it currently sits at #19 on the Bottom 100, and frankly I feel that’s an overstatement born of resentment from when the film first came out. Watching it now, in 2020, it certainly isn’t the most horrible thing to ever grace my screen; I think a score more in the mid to low 5 range would be a much better fit for it, maybe even a 5.5 if I was feeling especially generous. Again, I can’t really say this movie is great, or amazing, or even a must-see, but it’s amusing and not nearly as bad as I was led to believe for years. If you’re going to watch it, definitely don’t watch it for the romance, because this movie fails at the “rom” part of “rom-com.” It is, however, pretty good at the “com” part, intentionally or otherwise.

#Is it really that bad?#review #movie review #Gigli #Ben Affleck #Jennifer Lopez #rom-com #crime movie

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moviemagistrate · 4 years

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ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD review

ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD is my favorite movie of the 2010’s.

I’ll give you a minute to put your recently-blown mind back together.

So why do I love this movie so much? The overall response to Quentin Tarantino’s supposedly penultimate opus has been very positive if not rapturous, but I’ve seen some surprisingly lukewarm and even negative reviews, with people criticizing it for being slow, meandering, lacking in depth or *shudder* boring. Obviously the quality of any movie is subjective, as I’m quick to remind anyone who hates Michael Bay movies, but I honestly don’t understand people who dislike OUATIH. Maybe it’s a matter of expectations, because I didn’t know how to feel about the film for much of the first time I watched it either.

The year is 1969, a time of great political and cultural change in the country and in the entertainment industry. The star-driven films of yesteryear are giving way to grittier, artsier, more auteur-driven works as we primarily follow Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), former star of a popular cowboy show whose failed attempt to start an A-list movie career has left him relying on guest spots as TV villains-of-the-week to stay afloat. This is wonderfully laid out in the opening scene where he meets casting director Marvin Schwarz (Al Pacino, easily his best role since JACK & JILL), who lays out Rick’s lowering hierarchical status (“Who’s gonna kick the shit out of you next week? How about Batman & Robin? PING. POW”), while offering him an opportunity to be a leading-man again in Italian pictures.

Tagging along is Rick’s best, and maybe only, friend Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), Rick’s go-with-the-flow stunt-double who in the slowdown of Rick’s career has effectively become his driver and gofer, as well as Rick’s sole source of emotional support. Rick is also neighbors with Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie), the beautiful young actress and wife of then-superstar director Roman Polanski (whose inclusion in the film is minimal and handled tastefully), as she lives out her idyllic life, beloved by those around her like the ray of sunshine she was in real life. Her gated, hillside home looms over Rick’s, as he ponders aloud about how even meeting her the right way could resurrect his career.

For almost two-and-a-half hours, we follow these three characters as they just live out their lives, Rick nursing hangovers and having emotional breakdowns in front of his 8-year-old co-star on set while contemplating his future, Cliff going where the wind blows him while taking care of his adorable and highly-trained dog, and Sharon as she drives around Old Hollywood, spends time with her friends, and sneaks into a matinee showing of one of her movies, her eyes and infectious smile beaming with pride when the audience laughs at her comedic timing and cheers her martial-arts prowess.

I think it’s safe to say it’s not the film any of us were expecting from Quentin Tarantino. Having only made loud, gory, over-the-top genre pastiches for the last 15 years, you’d expect from the trailers for this to be about an actor and his sexy stunt-double getting mixed up with the Manson family before teaming up with Bruce Lee to save Sharon Tate from her horrific real-life fate, mixed with the filmmaker’s usual self-indulgent homages to films of yesteryear. While some of this is true to some extent, it’s surprisingly a much more relaxed, easygoing dramedy that follows a trio of funny, charismatic people as they just…exist, as people living in the moment instead of relics.

OUATIH is much more concerned with atmosphere, character, and capturing the feeling of a bygone era than the traditional narrative structure. It’s more effective than pretty much every nostalgia trip movie I've ever seen because you can feel Tarantino's affection for this era of his childhood bleed through every character, car, song, radio advertisement, TV show, background poster, etc. It’s through this meticulous level of detail and willingness to just hang out with these characters and take in this world that he reconstructed, Tarantino successfully resurrects the era in all its 35mm glory, but with the knowing twinge of real-world melancholy.

I guess the reason I love it so much is because the love that Tarantino has for everything and everyone in it is so tangible that it’s infectious. Watching OUATIH I honestly felt like I understood him better as both a filmmaker and as a person. He shows a level of restraint and maturity I haven’t seen since JACKIE BROWN. Even most of his trademark foot fetishizing is tasteful and subdued (I say “most” because I recall at least three close-ups of actresses’ feet that definitely made him a bit sweaty behind the camera). He’s a weird, shameless nerd with a big ego, but he’s 100% sincere about expressing his love for film and its rich history. And it’s this love, and the skill and style with which it’s expressed, that just put a big smile on my face each of the 6 (SIX) times that I’ve seen it since it came out.

Tarantino offers a tantalizing contrast between reality and fantasy. Throughout the film, as the characters of Hollywood live in their own idyllic world, relaxing in pools or driving around in bitchin’ cars, we also see the disquieting eeriness and griminess of the Manson family. The soundtrack and accompanying old-timey commercials for tanning butter or Mug Root Beer that plays through a lot of the film is a joy to listen to, but we also hear news bulletins of the war in Vietnam or the aftermath of the Bobby Kennedy assassination. You could argue this is just to set the scene for the era, but it feels too deliberate, because even after that joyously fantastical ending, we remember that it was just a fairy tale and real life didn’t turn out as pleasantly. Tarantino’s ability to make his world and characters so meticulously detailed and lived-in works to great effect in instilling a bittersweet melancholy to this film in a way I was really taken aback by. It feels like a window into his soul, someone who yearns for the fantasy of the world he grew up in but remembering that not all good things last and not everything in your nostalgic past was good to begin with.

One beautiful, spellbinding scene is Rick and Cliff coming back from their excursion into the world of Italian filmmaking. In this montage, we see Rick, Cliff and Rick’s new Italian wife arriving at the airport and driving home before unpacking their baggage, interspersed with Sharon Tate welcoming a guest at her home and having lunch, before cutting to a series of shots of famous LA landmarks like Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Taco Bell, and Der Wienerschnitzel all meticulously resurrected in their retro glory as they light up the night. “Baby, baby, baby you’re out of time”, sings Mick Jagger as we’re watching multiple stories about people who are each embodying those words: Rick’s career, his friendship with Cliff, Sharon Tate, and Hollywood itself.

Tarantino himself feels like one of the last mainstream auteur filmmakers, as well as one of the last and biggest proponents of shooting large-budget movies on film (even Scorsese’s embraced digital now, the fantastically-talented traitor). And with the rise of streaming services, one can’t help but feel like the movie-going experience itself is also becoming obsolete, especially recently, what with theaters going to war with distributors over fucking TROLLS: WORLD TOUR, not to mention that global pandemic we’ve been having lately all but killing general audiences’ enthusiasm for the movie theater experience (Christopher Nolan’s TENET certainly didn’t help). If all these things, both real and fictional, are indeed out of time, then at least with Tarantino’s penultimate film they get one hell of a bittersweet sendoff, a great time that’s more of an Irish wake than a funeral, and it’s a film I have no issue calling a truly introspective, late-career masterpiece.

And that’s without mentioning uniformly incredible cast. Leo DiCaprio, an actor I normally don’t care too much for, gives the best and funniest performance of his career as a dependent prima donna actor clinging to his remaining fame. Brad Pitt earns the hell out of his Oscar as an embodiment of old-school masculinity and charisma with an amazing set of abs (and everything else) whose outward coolness masks his mysterious past and complete badass-ness. Margot Robbie shines in her depiction of Tate, a beacon of warmth and likability who in many ways symbolized the love and carefree attitudes of the swingin’ 60’s. I’ve heard people criticize her character for not having a lot of dialogue, but to me it feels like they’re ignoring the visual storytelling, which just gives way to them assuming the film is sexist just because the female lead isn’t constantly monologuing. Every member of the supporting cast is memorable with their own quirks and great lines, no matter their screentime.

And of course, it wouldn’t be a Tarantino joint without some truly hilarious and shocking violence, and without going into spoiler territory, the last 20 minutes delivers on this promise to such a degree that I feel comfortable calling it the best thing he’s ever done. Some may decry the climax as unnecessary or over-the-top, but the way it leads to an alternate world while subtly acknowledging what happened in the real one is cathartic beyond belief. And if you’re paying attention, every scene in the movie has been quietly building towards this finale, which to me takes away any potential of feeling meandering in the story. If you saw the movie and didn’t much care for it, I recommend giving it another watch. Having the context ahead of time makes it feel so much more rewarding, and even on the fifth watch I’m noticing clever, subtle set-ups I missed beforehand.

It’s also just super cozy and really easy to watch. The two hours and 45 minutes fly by. I could watch a 4-hour version of this.

Quentin, if you’re reading this, please don’t let your last movie be Star Trek.

#tarantino #feet #hippies #brad pitt

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auntynationalsblog · 4 years

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5 Netflix Films for the Week, set before the 21st c.

How’s quarantine going? Yeah, same here. But it’s Monday after all, and you still have over 150 hours to kill if you’re dealing with this quarantine via a week-by-week approach. I can help you kill around 8%, 12 of those hours. Here are five must-watch films set before the twenty-first century. Don’t watch them all at once, that’s lame.

No spoilers.

5. The Revenant (1823)

Main Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hardy

“Revenge is in the Creator's hands.”

Many of you will know of this film as the one which finally gave LDC his first Oscar, for Best Actor, at the 88th Academy Awards. Unfortunately, you would have stopped at that information and not bothered to watch the film. Released in 2015, the film is based on a novel of the same name. The definition of ‘Revenant’ is “a person who has returned, especially supposedly from the dead.” The story-line does not deviate from the title, as an American frontiersman named Hugh Glass is engulfed in a bear attack and is left for dead by his hunting crew. But he survives. And he’s fucking pissed. The novel is called The Revenant: A Novel of Revenge, and yeah, the film is pretty vengeful too. Interestingly, even though Hugh Glass was indeed a real person, and it is mostly believed that the film and novel are based on a story, there exist no writings from the man himself to verify the description of his story. His story was first published in a Philadelphia literary journal known as The Port Folio. Some say that it is no more than a legendary tale. Nevertheless, a brilliant film, don’t miss out.

4. Before Sunrise (1994)

Only Cast (LOL): Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy

“If there's any kind of magic in this world…it must be in the attempt of understanding someone.”

If you’re a fan of love stories/romantic films, and if you haven’t come across the Before Trilogy, I don’t know what kind of love stories you watch. Why is this film unique? In technical terms, it’s minimalist. In simple words, there’s no real plot. There’s no action or drama or horror. These two just walk and talk. Then they talk some more while walking, and when they’ve nothing to talk about, they just walk quietly. So why watch the film? For starters, it’s very peaceful and relaxing, unlike The Revenant, which is fucking intense. Secondly, the conversations in the film constitute some of the best dialogue-exchanges in the history of cinema. Their characters are very carefully crafted, as their varying perspectives on living and loving bring out some deep AF points throughout the film. It is a slow film no doubt, but I promise you that the blandness is worth it, and the ending is too nice. Don’t get bored, give the film some time and thank me later.

3. Django Unchained (1858)

Main Cast: Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, and Leonardo DiCaprio

“Sold! To the man with the exceptional beard and his unexceptional nigga!”

Django Unchained is Tarantino’s highest-grossing film ever, for good reason. Although it has been criticized for historical inaccuracies, violence, and unprecedented high use of the N-word, Tarantino delivered one of the most dramatic and entertaining films from the era of plantation slavery. While the image above portrays Foxx, a slave, and LDC, a rich plantation owner, the highlight of the film was the German dentist-turned-bounty hunter, Dr. King Schultz, played by Christoph Waltz. Waltz’s performance is impeccable, only matched by his portrayal of Standartenführer Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds (also directed by Tarantino). While the film starts off with Dr. Schultz hunting for his bounties, it eventually goes on to become a rescue mission, where Django and Schultz look for the former’s estranged wife, Broomhilda von Shaft. TW; extreme cursing and racism. But the film is a work of art. In fact, Jamie Foxx has revealed that LDC was pretty uncomfortable on the set, as his character had to use extremely racial slurs. But boy, he pulled off that role brilliantly.

2. Zodiac (1969 - 1980s)

Main Cast: Jake Gyllenhaal, Mark Ruffalo, and Robert Downey Jr.

“I wanna report a double murder. If you go one mile east on Columbus Parkway, to a public park, you'll find kids in a brown car. They were shot with a 9mm Luger. I also killed those kids last year. Goodbye.”

What happens when Iron Man, Hulk and Mysterio gang-up against one of America’s most notorious serial-killers? For now, I can only tell you that it was a pretty uneven contest. Based on a true story, this film depicts the useless San Francisco Police Department’s hunt for the Zodiac Killer, led by Dave Toschi (Ruffalo), and aided by political cartoonist Robert Graysmith (Gyllenhaal) and crime reporter Paul Avery (Downey). In case you’re wondering if they’re fictional characters, they’re not. They became pretty famous while the Zodiac Killer was running havoc, and have multiple articles and Wikipedia pages dedicated to all three of them. The Zodiac Killer remains unidentified by the way, and the cases are still officially open. Why watch the film then? Because the mysteriousness of it will blow your mind. Note that the film is directed by David Fincher, the same guy who directed Seven, Fight Club, Gone Girl and Mindhunter, among many other murder mysteries and thrillers. Don’t be surprised if you spend the rest of the day investigating the case yourself, happens to the best of us.

Consolation Prize: The Irishman (1950s - 1970s)

Main (legendary) Cast: Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, and Joe Pesci

“I work hard for them when I ain't stealing from them.”

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking how can a film with a cast of three actors who redefined cinema in the late twentieth century earn only a consolation prize on this list? The truth is, that such crime/mafia/gangster films, no matter how legendary the cast is, only appeal to a particular audience. A lot of film buffs who truly appreciate cinema and actors are simply not enticed by this genre, which is okay. Nevertheless, this film, which spans over 200 minutes, is one of Martin Scorsese’s best works, along with other mob movies like Goodfellas and The Departed. Based on a true story, it follows the adventures of ordinary truck driver-turned-assassin Frank ‘Irishman’ Sheeran (De Niro), who gets mixed up in some extraordinary business with mobster Russell Bufalino (Pesci), his Pennsylvania crime family and American labor union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Pacino). The punchline of the film is “I heard you paint houses” - a mob code implying: I heard you murder people for money, the paint being the symbol of the blood that splatters when bullets are riddled into the target. Typical Scorsese, mesmerizing direction. The punchline is also the name of the novel the film is based on, in case you love reading about organized crime.

1. Dallas Buyers Club (1985)

Main Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Jennifer Garner and Jared Leto

“Sometimes, I feel I'm fighting for a life that I just ain't got the time to live. I want it all to mean something.”

On the day of the 86th Academy Awards, Facebook and Twitter erupted in outrage. LDC had not been awarded the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of Jordan Belfort in The Wolf of Wall Street, also known as The Film You Must Never Watch With Your Family. I merely asked every hot-tempered schmucks who posted that LDC had been snubbed, “Have you watched Dallas Buyers Club?” Either the answer was no, or the answer never came. The point being, Dallas Buyers Club is one of the best films ever made. Based on the true story of Ron Woodroof, a once homophobic, junkie cowboy diagnosed with AIDS, co-starring Jared Leto (who won best supporting actor) as Rayon, a fictional trans-woman with HIV, this film tells us an extraordinary tale of friendship, hope and empathy. When Ron discovers that the Federal Drug Administration has been systematically banning cheap drugs that can improve the condition of existing HIV-AIDS patients, he opens a ‘buyers club’, that enabled sick people to make drug purchases at lower prices. Things get more interesting with the role of Dr. Eve Saks, an AIDS doctor, who recognizes the villainous role of the state, but wants to remain within the ambit of the law. Ron’s character development might be the highlight of the film, as he transforms from a selfish, homophobic asshole to a dying man waging war against the American government, fighting for the healthcare of the underprivileged. Very few equally magnificent films have come out post Dallas Buyers Club. Don’t miss out.

So that’s it folks. Make good use of your quarantine by immersing yourself in good quality cinema. I’ll come up with some more suggestions on films and TV shows soon enough. Till then, Netflix and Don’t Chill.

#netflix

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sweetsmellosuccess · 5 years

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TIFF 2019: Day 5

Films: 3 Best Film of the Day: Uncut Gems

Bad Education: Frank Tassone (Hugh Jackman), a superintendent for a highly successful high school in 2002 Long island, starts the film on such a point-perfect loft, you know there’s no place else for him to go but all the way to the dregs.Based on a true story (and as first reported in the school’s own high school daily!), Frank’s dizzying fall at least gets a bit delayed en route to rock bottom. A powerful, commanding figure in the community, Frank nevertheless rules not by fear and intimidation – at least, before he’s cornered – but with compassion and caring. Such is his devotion to the school he helped raise from the ashes, that he makes a point to know nearly every teacher, student, and staff member in the place. A former English teacher himself, he treats every situation as a workable problem to be solved. And the problems start coming from all angles: First, it’s revealed that his vice-superintendent (Allison Janey), the person tasked with making proper use of the budget, has been embezzling school funs for her own personal purposes for years, forcing him to lay her off. Then his personal life starts to get more complicated, even as an enterprising student (Geraldine Viswanathan) digs further into the investigation of financial improprieties amongst the supervising staff. Frank, a master of duplicity, it turns out, harbors more than his share of secrets, but it’s the exposure of the sheer number of layers to his mental state of mind that hints at the greater depths of his sociopathy. As with Bong, Eggers, and Baumbach, director Cory Finley is less interested in pointing fingers than spreading his hands wide enough to take in everyone’s perspective. There are many things to admire in Frank, including his relative calm, even in the face of impending doom, but what’s more, in taking a more holistic view of things, his actions, while never justified, become vastly more explicable.

The Laundromat: Steven Soderbergh’s movie isn’t a straight line narrative; it’s a film essay, of a type, using a pair of smarmy, fourth-wall breaking narrators (Antonio Banderas and Gary Oldman) to explain the financial concept of shell corporations, and how both major conglomerates and wealthy individuals use them to avoid taxes, liability, and prosecution throughout the world. To make this shady practice more clear, Soderbergh employs a number of devices besides our rakish guides. There’s a short narrative involving a wealthy family, whose patriarch is cheating with his daughter’s roommate (the best passage of the film); an ongoing series of scenes where a widow (Meryl Streep) tries to receive the insurance pay-out she is entitled to; and various shout-outs and graphics, all winding up with a direct appeal by Streep to regulate this completely shady practice. It’s a heartfelt message – and an extremely topical one, especially with our current, wildly pro-business, administration, but beyond its educational overtures, there’s not an awful lot here to recommend it.

Uncut Gems: I have had mixed feelings about the Safdie brothers, whose last film, Good Time, won a lot of interest and acclaim, but left me cold, but this effort, about a diamond merchant named Howard (Adam Sandler) in New York, who comes across what he believes to be an extremely valuable prize, is absolutely riveting. Every so often, Sandler will step away from his buddies making fart movies, and try something dramatic just to remind us how good he is when puts his mind to it. He’s brilliant here, playing Howard, as one critic put it, like a middle-aged Al Pacino role, all bluster and biliousness that belay his desperation. On a constant look-out for an adrenaline rush, Howard is addicted to gambling, falling into bad debt with some cousin of his (Eric Bogosian), who has hired muscle to put the clamps on him. It’s one of those pressure-cooker films, where the steam builds more and more intense as Howard gets in and out of trouble through his ability to constantly shift the playing board. There’s a scene about midway through, with various aggrieved characters coalescing at once in his office, as he’s trying to have a speaker phone conversation with his doctor, that’s so stressful, you will want to avert your eyes and remind yourself of the exit signs.

Photo: Uncut Gems

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #tiff 2019 #toronto international film festival #uncut gems #safdie brothers #adam sandler #bad education #hugh jackman #allison janney #the laundromat #steven soderbergh #meryl streep #antonio banderas #gary oldman #arkansas democrat gazette

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minceofmind-blog · 4 years

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Piece of mind

‘This Tumblr is cool but empty’. Thanks to Tumblr for calling me cool even when I have not put up anything yet. My cousin suggested that Tumblr was a good site to blog and I had read a blog on Tumblr a few years back but I noticed it only today that it is 'Tumbler'. I realized it when I read ‘This Tumblr is cool but empty’. Somewhat made me realize how it is similar to the title of this piece ‘Piece of mind’. We are all little tumblers sometimes overflowing, sometimes empty, sometimes half full sometimes half empty and as the going gets confusing more kinds of tumblers keep happening. Little pieces of the whole, like water, poured into different tumblers. I sometimes don’t mind sharing a few of what I have in my Tumblr with the others. I too want to experience pieces of other's minds and share mine with others. Maybe what I want or lack is what the other gives freely and in exchange, we feel the happiness of sharing and receiving, now I sound like Joeys wedding speech :D So I want to put in a piece of my mind into a juicer and pour the juice to my tumbler. As I keep living and experiencing, I will keep sharing and giving with an equal joy of being received and having ;D Joey is the best guy on the show, simple and humble. No clutters no confusions, no fusses. The image that I get when I read my blog title is of pieces of brain and blood on the walls of Iris’s room in Taxi driver. You can understand the meaning of ‘I heard you paint houses’ when you have watched Scorsese or most of the gore gangster movies. I watched Irishman on Netflix, man Al Pacino delivering those dialogs at his age, what strength and power. Where do these guys get all the energy to keep working, I mean Harvey Keitel, Joe Pesci, De Niro and Scorsese himself all in their later 70s and still have the focus and power to do big movies. I was checking Polanski’s age, 86 and he is still directing. Woody Allen, Jodorowsky I might be missing out on many from around the world. But what are they eating or doing to gain so much focus on their work? It is like you are so passionate about the work that you keep on the move and don’t stop. Like our very own Amitabh Bachchan, 77 years old and still rolling. I wish everyone could find their respective fields or terrains to keep rolling and keep on rolling not stop. Some enjoy where ever they are rolling. Some sulk because they have to roll for others. What I have experienced is that keeping the mind busy with an activity helps you to ward off negative thoughts and self-degrading ideas. Maybe that’s why grandparents were all on their toes when we visited them because they just wanted to do things for us and other visitors. They wanted to do things for us, cook and serve and tell stories and put the kids to bed. I remember my grandpa would pluck bananas and jackfruits and various types of berries when he knows that I would be visiting for vacations. Even at the age of 80, he would have the energy to do things for his grandchildren.

Love drives us to do things. Love stimulates cells to move, they pick ourselves and get us into doing stuff because it gives us a sense of being. An existential crisis will cry if we keep loving and sharing and giving and receiving. Love runs this world. It is like the children are their parents and grandparent’s piece of artwork. They paint themselves through their next generations, by default through genetics but also by sharing experiences and passing down information. Then their children speak for their parents. But nowadays there is a lot of criticism when it comes to parents advising children and putting pressure to cast themselves into a model that somebody created. Like if Monalisa is a role model, all the parents want their kids to be a Monalisa but each of them is a different painting. So, what’s happening is that starry nights and the scream and the pearl earring girl, shadows in Hopper’s painting are forced to be a large fore headed woman with middle partition hair and a confusing facial expression, it becomes a fucking mess, like many lives these days. Maybe the children won’t take in your best qualities and would rather have something else in themselves that they want to bring out. It’s more like the best works the artist feels they have done by putting their heart and soul in it go unrecognised and the ones they did just for the sake become world-famous. Even with filmmakers, when they are asked which one was their favourite movie to work on, and it would mostly be something that has not worked well with the audience. Maybe they enjoyed the process and it was self-reflective and they got to learn a lot, but it must have not appealed to the masses. So I guess they just have to keep on the move. I watched a video on YouTube channel Green Renaissance about an old man who is a banana farmer and has one key advice ‘Keep on the move!’

So simple and crisp advice. May be old Joey would have the same thing to tell. I am 908 words in the previous sentence and want to have at least a thousand words on my first blog. As I took a break to read what I have written above it looks more like a kid with a pebble in hand throwing it on boxes and there is no end to those boxes. The kid keeps throwing and new boxes keep appearing and the game is still on. (This kid grew up to be Raman Raghav2.0 LOL!!) The kid has learnt to keep on the move and throws the pebbles randomly creating more neuronal pathways. I just googled if there was a word called neuronauts, it seems there is. I don’t know what they do but as the name portrays, it must be something to do with exploring the brain and creating new pathways. Checking on which bridges and high ways need repair and which cities need to be connected well. Cities that were once prosperous and well known for subjects who were loving and sharing but now the city is lost in time as its paths were rerouted to loops for routine efficiency and meeting expectations. There were times when the cells would try to visit the city of interest when not required in loops but then inertia also played to delay transportation and slowly the city of love and sharing faded. It needs to be cleaned of all its rust and get well connected to other cities to function as before. It takes time. When the loop highways are not busy, the roadway worker cells can be deployed to repair the broken parts of the bridges then make the city well connected and prosperous. Maybe we play neuronauts to ourselves.

So self-realised we are, we realise when we study about our bodies. And on the other end, we feel we are lost because the paths keep changing like the stairs in Hogwarts. Both are related and work together. I laze, so the cells feel the happy and sharing city don’t need connection anymore. I work and they are well connected. I seem to have lost track but I enjoyed the flow. I hope I keep up the habit of writing and sharing and keeping on the move.

Bye!

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doomonfilm · 4 years

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Review : The Irishman (2019)

As iconic a director as Martin Scorsese is, most modern-day film fans only know him for one thing : his statement about Marvel movies not being cinema. Nevermind the classic run he had from Mean Streets to Shutter Island, or his immeasurable influence on cinema of the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, many have just written him off as a bitter old man whose time has come and gone. Scorsese, however, clearly has no plans on relinquishing his influential grasp on cinema, as he teamed up with Netflix to save his current passion project, The Irishman.

As Frank Sheeran (Robert DeNiro) sits in a nursing home, he recounts his times connected to the Bufalino family and their criminal exploits. Sheeran reflects upon his time as a hitman for Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci), the way that his lifestyle impacted his family relationships, and his close relationship with the iconic Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino). As the years pass, Sheeran watches his friends succumb to the evils of the world... some pass at the hands of others, and some die of natural causes. Eventually, Sheeran attempts to reconcile his damaged family ties in the wake of his impending death.

The Irishman is a return to form for a director that is widely known as a master of his craft. While Scorsese does have range in regards to the stories he tells, no other director can tell crime family and mafioso stories quite like he can, and this film is a testament to his ability to tell these stories masterfully from decade to decade. While many of his previous mafia films have been based on real people and contain references to real-life events, The Irishman takes on one of the most notorious figures in the form of the giant that is Jimmy Hoffa, so Scorsese pulls out all the stops in regards to his bag of tricks. Iconic actors and actresses are cast as legendary figures of the criminal underworld, with referential footnotes provided for bigger picture context in regards to what roles they played and how long they lived, which parallels to both the film’s massive run-time and the irony of Frank Sheeran outliving everyone despite how dirty his hands became. Scorsese’s affinity for outsiders becoming deeply immersed in the worlds he illustrates is heavily present as well, as Sheeran becomes connected in ways that no non-Italian was previously allowed, or probably allowed since.

The Scorsese and DeNiro tandem has presented some fascinating character studies over the years, and The Irishman continues this tradition. This time around, we are presented with story of a man that is locked into the ideas of honor and loyalty for what many would consider a dishonorable lifestyle. It is never really made clear whether or not his motivations lie in something that Sheeran is missing as a former soldier, or something closer to an adoration for the figures that populate the world of the Mafia, but what is certainly clear is that whatever motivation it may be drives Sheeran nearly to the point of blind devotion for figures that fought epic, life-altering battles over minor personal squabbles and power games. This, however, does not mask the fact that the influence these men had changed the course of American history on more than one occasion, and Sheeran essentially played fixer to anyone who would not accept their role in this drastic course changing. As previously mentioned, the narrative irony lies in the fact that near the end of his life, all of the figures that Sheeran looked up to passed away, and all that he was left with were his memories of a time that most people are unaware of or care little about (other than for entertainment value), and he is forced to live this life in solitude due to the way that his choices fractured his relationship with his family.

Scorsese is a man that does not stray far from the tools that he has established to tell stories, and much of his familiar visual and sonic language is present in The Irishman. First and foremost, the soundtrack is solid from front to back, putting you in the proper state of mind for both mood and timeframe with each musical cue that is presented. His long steadycam shots are also present, though they are much more methodical in nature rather than used for show. Scorcese hearkens back to films like Goodfellas with his portrayal of stylized violence and explosions of classic cars, and at times, even frenetic cuts or camera moves that create a sense of uneasiness. Honestly, at this point, Scorsese fans know what to expect from him, and luckily, his skill has not dulled with age. The one (minor) knock I could give the film is that the de-aging, while shaving a few years off of the actors face, does not hide the fact that these men are older, very similar to how Samuel L. Jackson still moved like an old man in Captain Marvel, despite movie magic turning back the clock on his face and hair.

The combination of DeNiro, Pesci and Pacino is powerful and palatable, as the moments shared between the combinations of actors and the given scenarios leap off the screen... DeNiro especially shines, as he has always had an innate ability to communicate worlds of information strictly through the ways that his eyes convey a thought process. Seeing actors like Ray Romano and Bobby Cannavale in this movie makes me wish they’d been around for the older Scorsese films. Anna Paquin does a good job of manifesting the fractured nature of the family, and her chemistry with Pacino is interesting, but works well. Harvey Keitel manages to use his presence to great effect, opting to use minimal dialogue and implement a steady, intimidating gaze. Stephanie Kurtzuba and Kathrine Narducci make their presence known around DeNiro and Pacino without sacrificing themselves as tropes or caricatures. Jesse Plemons does what he does, but it also works, despite his looks making him stand out from the rest of those present in the film. Jack Huston steps firmly into the shoes of RFK, as does Sebastian Maniscalco in his wonderful portrayal of Crazy Joe (who I wouldn’t mind seeing in his own film). The cast is stacked from top to bottom, and performances of note include Welker White, Domenick Lombardozzi, Paul Herman, Louis Cancelmi, Gary Basaraba, Marin Ireland, Steven Van Zandt, Bo Dietl, Daniel Jenkins, Paul Ben-Victor, plus cameos from Jim Norton, Action Bronson, Patrick Gallo and Jake Hoffman.

As much as folks do not appreciate Scorsese’s views on what does or does not constitute cinema, having films like The Irishman is his oeuvre certainly validates any opinion he chooses to share. If you can manage to set aside the three-plus hours this film demands of your attention, I highly recommend diving in.

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uomo-accattivante · 5 years

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Oscar Isaac in the role of painter Paul Gauguin is trouble you see coming from a mile away—the kind you live to regret falling for anyway.

He’s a holier-than-thou painting bro with a “slightly misanthropic” streak (Isaac’s generous wording), eyes glinting with disgust in his first close-up. Pipe in one hand, book in another, dressed all black save for an elegant red scarf, he slams a table and shames the Impressionists gathered around him: “They call themselves artists but behave like bureaucrats,” he huffs after a theatrical exit. “Each of them is a little tyrant.”

From a few tables away, another painter, Vincent van Gogh, watches in awe. He runs into the street after Gauguin like a puppy dog.

Within a year, a reluctant Gauguin would move in with van Gogh in a small town in the south of France, in the hope of fostering an artists’ retreat away from stifling Paris. Eight emotionally turbulent weeks later, van Gogh would lop off his left ear with a razor, distraught that his dearest friend planned to leave him for good. He enclosed the bloody cartilage in wrapping marked “remember me,” intending to have it delivered to Gauguin by a frightened brothel madam as a bizarre mea culpa. The two never spoke again.

Or so the last two years of Vincent van Gogh’s life unspool in Julian Schnabel’s At Eternity’s Gate, itself a kind of lush, post-Impressionistic memoir of the Dutchman’s tormented time in Arles, France. (Not to mention artistically fruitful time: Van Gogh churned out 200 paintings and 100 watercolors and sketches before the ear fiasco landed him in an insane asylum.)

Isaac plays Gauguin like an irresistibly bad boyfriend, a bemused air of condescension at times wafting straight into the audience: “Why’re you being so dramatic?” he scoffs directly into the camera, inflicting a first-person sensation of van Gogh’s insult and pain.

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Yet in the painter’s artistic restlessness, Isaac, 37, sees himself: “That desire to want to do something new, to want to push the boundaries, to not just settle for the same old thing and get so caught up with the minutia of what everyone thinks is fashionable in the moment.” He talks about “staying true to your own idea of what’s great.” He talks about “finding something honest.”

From another actor, the sentiment might border on banal. But Oscar Isaac—Guatemalan-born, Juilliard-trained and, in his four years since breaking through as film’s most promising new leading man, christened superlatives from “this generation’s Al Pacino” to the “best dang actor of his generation”—might really have reason to mean what he says. He’s crawling out the other end of a life-altering two years, one that’s encompassed personal highs, like getting married and becoming a father, and an acutely painful low: losing a parent.

He basked in another Star Wars premiere, mined Hamlet for every dimension of human experience, and weathered the worst notices of his career with Life Itself. Through it all, he says, he’s spent a lot of time in his head—reevaluating who he is, what he wants, and what matters most.

Right now, he’s aiming for a year-long break from work, his first in a decade, after wrapping next December’s Star Wars: Episode IX. “I’m excited to, like Gauguin, kind of step away from the whole thing for a bit and focus on things that are a bit more real and that matter to me,” he says.

Until then, he’s just trying “to keep moving forward as positively as I can,” easing into an altered reality. “You’re just never the same,” he says quietly. “On a cellular level, you’re a completely different person.”

When we talk, Isaac is in New York for one day to promote and attend the New York Film Festival premiere of At Eternity’s Gate. Then it’s back on a plane to London, where Pinewood Studios and Star Wars await.

Episode IX, the last of Disney’s new Skywalker trilogy, will see Isaac reprise the role of dashing Resistance pilot Poe Dameron, whose close relationship with Carrie Fisher’s General Leia evokes joy but also melancholy after Fisher’s untimely passing.

Each film was planned in part as a celebration and send-off to each of the original trilogy’s most beloved heroes: in The Force Awakens, Han Solo (Harrison Ford); in The Last Jedi, Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill); Fisher, meanwhile, had hoped to save Leia’s spotlight for last but passed unexpectedly long before filming began. Director J.J. Abrams, returning to close the trilogy he opened with Episode VII, has since said that unseen footage of Fisher from that previous film will ensure the General appears, however briefly.

For his part, Isaac promises the still-untitled ninth film will pay appropriate homage to Leia—and to Fisher’s sense of fun. “The story deals with that quite a bit,” he says. “It’s a strange thing to be on the set and to be speaking of Leia and having Carrie not be around. There’s definitely some pain in that.” Still, he says, compared to the first two installments, “there’s a looseness and an energy to the way that we’re shooting this that feels very different.”

“It’s been really fun being back with J.J., with all of us working in a really close way. I just feel like there’s an element of almost senioritis, you know?” he laughs. “Since everything just feels way looser and people aren’t taking it quite as seriously, but still just having a lot of fun. I think that that energy is gonna translate to a really great movie.”

Fisher’s absence is felt keenly on set, Isaac says. As if to reassure us both, however, he reiterates: “It deals with the amazing character that Carrie created in a really beautiful way.”

Two months after Fisher’s death, Isaac’s mother, Eugenia, passed away after an illness. A month after that, the actor married his girlfriend, the Danish documentarian Elvira Lind. Another month later, the couple welcomed their first son, named Eugene to honor the little boy’s grandmother. Work offered a way for a reeling Isaac to process.

There was his earth-shaking run at Hamlet, in which Isaac starred as the titular prince in mourning at New York’s Public Theater. And then there was writer-director Dan Fogelman’s Life Itself, a film met with reviews that near-unanimously recoiled from its “cheesy,” “overwrought” structure, filled with what one critic called the genuine emotion of “a damage-control ExxonMobil commercial.”

The reaction surprised Isaac. “I thought it was some of my strongest work,” he says. “Especially at that moment in my life. This guy is dealing with grief and, for me, it was a really honest way of trying to understand those emotions and to create a character who was also going through just incomprehensible grief.” He’s proud of the performance—and, in a strange way, heartened by the sour critical response.

“To be honest,” he says brightly, “there was something really comforting about it.” That the work “for me, meant something and for others, didn’t at all, it just made the whole thing not matter so much in a great way.”

“I was able to explore something and come out the other end and feel like I grew as an actor,” he explains. “That matters to me a lot. And the response to that, you know, it’s interesting of course, but it was a great example for me of how it really doesn’t dictate how I then feel about what I did.”

He thinks for a moment of performances and projects that, conversely, embarrassed him—ones that to his shock, boasted “really great notices” in the end. “You just never know, you know? It’s completely out of my control.”

Isaac is an encouraging listener in conversation, doling out interested yeahs and uh-huhs, and often warm, self-deprecating laughter. When I broach a particularly personal subject, he seems to sit up—somehow, suddenly more present. It’s about his last name.

Óscar Isaac Hernández Estrada dropped both surnames before enrolling at Juilliard in 2001. He’d run into several Óscar Hernándezes at auditions by that point, and taken note of the stereotypes casting directors seemed to have in mind for them—gangsters, drug dealers, the works. So he made a change, not unlike many actors do.

Whether Óscar Hernández might have had a crack at the astonishingly diverse roles Oscar Isaac has inhabited, we’ll never know. But given Hollywood’s limiting tendencies, it’s less likely he might have played an English king for Ridley Scott in 2010’s Robin Hood, three years before his breakthrough role as a cantankerous folk singer in Joel and Ethan Coen’s Inside Llewyn Davis. He was an Armenian genocide survivor in last year’s The Promise, an Israeli secret agent in August’s Operation Finale, and now, he’s the Frenchman Paul Gauguin.

Star Wars’ Poe Dameron, meanwhile, or the mysterious tech billionaire in Alex Garland’s Ex Machina, or the army commando in his second Garland mind-twist, Annihilation, specify no ethnicities at all. It’s the dream: to be hailed as a great actor, period, and not a “great Latino actor” first. To be appreciated for your talent, and seen as “other” rarely at all.

There’s a crawl space between those distinctions, though, where another anxiety lives. The one that makes you wonder: Am I “representing” as loudly as I should? Am I obligated to do so in my work? If I don’t, what does that make me? Questions for when you grew up in Miami, or another Latino-dominant place, reckoning with how you’re perceived in a spotlight outside of it. Isaac listens attentively. Then for several unbroken minutes, talks it out with himself.

He rewinds to yesterday, when he boarded a plane from London on which an air steward addressed him repeatedly as “señor,” unbidden. “It was just a little weird. So I started calling him ‘señor’ as well. I was like, thank you, señor!” Isaac recalls, cracking up. “But then at the same time, I had that thought. I was like, but no, I should really, you know, be proud of being a señor, I guess?”

“I think for a lot of immigrants, the idea is that you don’t always just want to be thought of as other. Like, I don’t want him to be just calling me ‘señor.’ Why?” he asks, more of the steward than himself. “Because I look like I do, so I’m not a mystery anymore? It did bring up all those kinds of questions.”

He grew up in the United States, he explains; his family came over from Guatemala City when Isaac was 5 months old. “I’m most definitely Latino. That’s who I am. But at the same time, for an actor it’s like, I want to be hired not because of what I can represent, but because of what I can create, how I can transform, and the power of what I create.”

Still, Isaac has eyes and ears and exists in the year 2018 with the rest of us. “I’m not an idiot,” he adds. “And I know that we live in a politically charged time. There’s so much terrible language, particularly right now, being used against Latinos as a kind of political weapon.” He recognizes, too, the necessity “for people to see people that look like them, because that’s a very inspiring thing.”

As a kid, Isaac looked up to Raúl Juliá, the Puerto Rican-born actor and Broadway star whose breakthrough movie role came as Gomez Addams of the ’90s Addams Family films. “But I looked up to him particularly because he was a Latino that wasn’t being pigeonholed just in Latino parts,” Isaac adds.

“I do think there is a separation between the artist and the art form, between a craftsperson and the craft,” he says, applying the difference in this context to himself. He calls it “that double thing,” as apt a term as any for that peculiar, precise tension: “Like yes, I am who I am, I came from where I come from. But my interest isn’t just in showing people stuff about myself, because I don’t find me to be all that interesting.”

“What is more interesting to me is the work that I’m able to do, and all that time that I spent learning how to do Shakespeare and how to break down plays and try to create a character and do accents,” he says. “That, for me, is what’s fun.”

But it’s always that “double thing”—reconciling two pulls and finding a way not to get torn up. He wants American Latinos “to know, to be proud that there is someone from there that is out and doing work and being recognized not just for being a Latino that’s been able to do that.” On the other hand, he’s “just like any artist who’s out there doing something. I feel like that’s…” He pauses. “That’s also something to be proud of, you know?”

Isaac’s focus lands on me again. “And I think for you too, you’re a writer and that’s what you do. Your identity is also part of that, but I think that you want the work to stand on its own, too.” His sister is “an incredible scientist. She’s at the forefront of climate change and particularly how it affects Latino communities and low-income areas. And she is a Latina scientist, but she’s a scientist, you know? She’s a great scientist without the qualifier of where she’s from. And that’s also very important.”

Paul Gauguin’s life after van Gogh’s death by gunshot at 37 revealed more repugnant depths than his dick-ish insensitivity.

He defected from Paris again, this time to the South Pacific, determined to break from the staid art scene once and for all. He “married” three adolescent brides, two of them 14 years old and the other 13, infecting each girl with syphilis and settling into a private compound he dubbed Maison de Jouir, or “House of Orgasms.” “Pretty gnarly, nasty stuff,” Isaac concedes, though he withholds judgment of the man in his performance onscreen.

To do so might have made his Gauguin—alluring, haughty, insufferable, brilliant—“not quite as complex.” Opposite Willem Dafoe’s divinely wounded depiction of van Gogh, however, he found room to play. “It was interesting to ask, well, what’s the kind of person that would feel that he’s entitled to do those kinds of things?” The man onscreen is an asshole, to be sure, but hardly paints the word “sociopath” onto a canvas. He’s simply human: “I think that anyone has at least the capacity to do” what Gauguin did, Isaac reasons.

The actor has had more than one reason to think on a person’s capacity to do terrible things in the last year. Two men he’s worked with—his Show Me a Hero director, Paul Haggis, and X-Men: Apocalypse helmer Bryan Singer—were both accused of sexual assault in the last year, part of a torrent of unmasked misconduct Hollywood’s Me Too movement brought to national attention.

“It’s a tricky thing,” Isaac says, “because you get offered jobs all the time and, I guess, what’s required now? What kind of background checks can someone do beforehand? There isn’t a ton.” (Just ask Olivia Munn.) “Especially as an actor, to make sure that the people you’re working with, surrounding yourself with, haven’t done something in their past that I guess will make you seem somehow like you’re propping up bad behavior.”

Carefully, he expresses reservations about the phenomenon of the last year. “People don’t feel like they’re getting justice through any kind of legal system, so they take it to the streets,” he ventures. “It’s basically street justice. You have no other option. And what happens when you take it to the streets is that damage occurs, and sometimes people get taken down, things get destroyed that you feel like maybe shouldn’t have.”

“But some of it had to happen, and hopefully now there’ll be more of a system in place to take these things seriously,” he says. “It seems like it is starting to happen more, but then you see things like, how can this person get away with it? How can that person? It just boggles the mind.”

He pulls back again, remembering what’s out of his control.

Tomorrow, he’ll be back in an X-Wing suit, as Poe struggles to accept the same truth. In a year, he’ll be home in New York with his wife and young son, focusing on matters more “real” than Hollywood, its artists, and its art. Whatever he chooses whenever he returns, he’ll be ready—for the critics, the questions, for this new reality.

“All I can do is just do what means something to me,” he says. “You just have to find something honest.” One expects he will.

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#oscar isaac #paul gauguin #at eternity's gate #poe dameron #star wars #carrie fisher #episode ix #episode 9 #operation finale #life itself #inside llewyn davis #hamlet #robin hood #the promise #ex machina #annihilation #show me a hero #x men: apocalypse #interview

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haroldgross · 2 years

Text

New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on http://literaryends.com/hgblog/house-of-gucci/

House of Gucci

[3 stars]

The first question that came to my mind as the credits rolled (after 2.5 hours) was: Why did we need this story? Sure, it’s full of cultural history and extreme characters, but why? I will certainly grant that Ridley Scott (Raised by Wolves) managed to keep a swift pace up for the story. But I felt no satisfaction from the journey. However, there are some fantastic performances.

Lady Gaga (A Star is Born) disappears into her role, as does Jared Leto (The Little Things). Both are helped by some amazing hair and make-up artists. Al Pacino (The Irishman) delivers as well, though it is a role very much in his wheelhouse. In smaller roles, Salma Hayek (bliss) and Reeve Carney (The Tempest) stood out nicely too.

But then there was Adam Driver (Annette) who, for all his talent, just didn’t work for me. I just couldn’t buy him as the Italian head of the storied clan. Mostly it was the vocal work more than his acting, but it just didn’t work.

Ultimately, I still don’t know why Scott wanted to tell this story. It doesn’t really expose anything of value, unless you really care about dirty laundry. Rich people doing stupid things to stay rich and powerful isn’t a big draw for me. And there wasn’t enough humanity in the movie to make me see any of it in a new or interesting light. And isn’t that the point of making a movie of this scale? Creating or showing something new?

You’ll have to decide if you want to invest the 160 minutes in this seedy exposé on your own. It isn’t a poorly told tale, it’s just a poor tale to tell.

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#3stars #Actor #adaptation #biography #craft #Dark #Drama #Historical #YourChoice #Movie Review

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