Reviews of albums, films, concerts, and more from the Bay Area Music and Movie Nerds
Your enjoyment of The Peanut Butter Falcon will depend largely on your ability to suspend disbelief and wholeheartedly embrace its fairy tale quality. If you can do that, you’re in for a sweet, feel-good treat, but, if, like me, you’re too cynical to ignore its myriad of coincidences and convenient plot turns, you may find yourself distanced from the story, unable to completely immerse yourself in its picaresque adventure.
After almost two weeks of screenings that ran daily from 8:30 am to midnight, the Sundance Film Festival wrapped up last weekend with its awards presentation. All the winners can be found here, but below I present my personal highlights from my week exploring the Fest’s good, bad, and downright weird. Some of these may be widely released during the year, so I offer my advice on the films you should SEE or SKIP.
1.) Most Over the Top Rip Off of The Office that Feels Like it Was Written At 3:00 am After Smoking Way Too Many Joints: Corporate Animals (Category: Midnight)
Not only does director Patrick Brice (who also directed the much better Sundance offering The Overnight) use a corporate retreat setting for his horror satire, replete with a who’s who of standard office types (Demi Moore as the hard driving boss; Jessica Williams as the dispirited protégée; and Callum Worthy as the eager to please intern, to name a few), but he even casts Office alum Ed Helms as a guide who leads the team on a caving expedition that goes awry, to put it mildly. Trapped deep in a collapsed New Mexico cave (the scenery at least holds its own), the cast is forced to deliver too many stereotypical jokes, especially at the expense of Moore, whose cutthroat boss is little more than a caricature. The group’s descent into cannibalism is played for laughs, but the film isn’t half as edgy as it thinks it is, and the entire exercise feels like writer Sam Bain somehow managed to get his snickering Office fan-fiction greenlit. — SKIP Continue reading “Film Feature: Highs and Lows from the 2019 Sundance Film Festival”
It’s hard to imagine much originality stemming from any new or forthcoming World War II movies. This was my thought back in 2009 before Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds was released, offering audiences a completely new vision of the second world war and delivering never-before-seen perspectives with style. This isn’t to say that that film revitalized the genre, but it kinda did. The newest World War II tale, Fury, starring Basterds alum Brad Pitt, offers a focus we haven’t seen much of (tank vs. tank battles), but otherwise a lot of the same gruesomeness and gritty warfare and dehumanized soldiers we’ve seen before. If it weren’t for a lack of strong character development, Fury could have been a war classic. Fury is a strong entry into the World War II genre, focusing on a much-passed over yet crucial deadly type of war machine (again, tanks), yet still overtly showcasing the horrors and disturbing nature of war.
(Warning: ‘Volume I’ spoilers immediately ahead.)
Last we left Joe, she had just been broken down with the tragic realization that she couldn’t feel anything. Her years of sexual escapades and experimentation had left her suddenly numb, cold, distant, and depressed…and this is the new Joe that we get to follow in Lars von Trier’s Nymphomaniac: Volume II, the second half of his sexual cinematic odyssey. Needless to say, this sequel of sorts doesn’t live up to the emotional gravitas and observational humor of Volume I, instead settling for a few interesting thoughts but mostly von Trier’s penchant for gratuitous sexual violence and plenty of shock value.
Let’s get this out of the way — Lars von Trier makes films that are explicit, controversial, and sad as f-ck! Some consider them pornographic, others call them gratuitous, while others call them brilliant works of art. All opinions are right because Lars von Trier’s films, above all else, invite endless interpretations, conflicting opinions, and discussions. His newest film, Nymphomaniac: Vol. I, the first part of a 4+ hour film divided into two volumes, is actually the third and final part of the “Depression Trilogy”, which includes von Trier’s prior efforts Antichrist (2009) and Melancholia (2011). These three films aren’t connected in the traditional sense of trilogies, that is to say, by story. Rather, they are tonally and thematically intertwined, each one separately exploring the worlds of sex, depression, and the multiple forms of human tragedy. Hooray! ...right? As you can imagine, these films don’t lend themselves to much mainstream appeal. In my humble critic’s opinion, they should. Well, maybe not Antichrist. But Nymphomaniac: Vol. I is a fascinating and well-rounded exploration of sexuality, identity, eroticism, youthful angst, and self-reflection, as told through a traditional biopic film structure, that invites personal introspection and a yearning to discuss these topics with others.
starring: Tom Hardy, Shia LaBeouf, Guy Pearce, Jessica Chastain, Mia Wasikowska, Gary Oldman, Jason Clarke
written by: Nick Cave
directed by: John Hillcoat
MPAA: Rated R for strong bloody violence, language and some sexuality/nudity