Always Get Moving Again. OK!: The Happiness Of The Katakuris (2001)

The idea of post-genre cinema is one of the things that has come to truly fascinate me in the past year or so as I begin to truly unpack my research interests and begin to focus on graduate school endeavors.  When I refer to post-genre, at least in my mind, it is taking a particularly key genre, such as horror or the western and using tropes and themes from it in an incredibly post-modern way, usually in a satirical or absurdist manner.  Of course, there are post-genre exceptions that manages to take their execution very seriously without be comedic or absurdist, John Hillcoat's The Proposition being a perfect example of such an occurrence.  Indeed, some filmmakers simply exist in a state of post-genre, always mashing together what they find to be cinematic language extended to its furthers points, Quentin Tarantino being an example of this, although much of what he does is purely copying and pasting.  Other directors, like one of Tarantino's favorites, Takashi Miike manages to be post-genre in every cinematic endeavor he undertakes.  For example, both Audition and his more recent 13 Assassins manage to be post-genre purely by prefabricating the horror and samurai films to fit within a post-digital and post-modern viewer palette, resulting in incredibly engaging works of film that also happen to be deeply unsettling for their frank depictions of violence and oppression.  In a world all its own, however, is Miike's The Happiness of the Katakuris, which sets itself up primarily as a musical, but also functions as a tradtional family drama, not to mention making heavy use of claymation throughout.  In setting up a film with such a series of idyllic and traditionally positive genre elements, Miike's choice to make the film a horror thriller within this context proves to create as perplexing and enigmatic a film as one might ever encounter, taking second only to House in terms of otherworldly Japanese cinema.  Assumedly a work like this is part of the Japanese Weird Wave, but simply describing it as such does nothing to help establish how truly unusual and anti-normative this particular work manages to be.  It has no limitations, nor does it expect its viewers to look for such boundaries.

As the title suggests the film centers on the experiences of a family known as the Katakuris, who have been living under the guise of failure from their various generations for well over four decades, beginning with the father Jinpei (Tesuro Tamba) and running all the way down to the Katakuri son and former criminal Masayuki (Shinji Takeda).  While failure seems to simply be part of the family dynamic, they are nonetheless capable of running a moderately successful bed and breakfast in a rural area of Japan, even picking up considerable business when they arrive at a new location.  Things at the establishment seem to be particularly successful until a weird occurrence begins to unfold wherein the various guests at their home begin dying, either by suicide or other inexplicable causes of death.  Alongside the other members of the family divorced daughter Shizue (Naomi Nishida) manages to navigate her own severe anxieties and depressions at being left by a Japanese man purporting to be part of the British Royal Family named Richard Sagawa (Kiyoshiro Imawano).  Aside from struggling at his return, Shizue also attempts to shelterer daughter Yurie (Tamaki Miyazaki) who also narrates the film, from the various violence and sadness occurring around their residence.  However, this attempt at sheltering proves all but futile when it is revealed that not only have the buried bodies begun to stack up considerably, but many of them are coming back to live with avegence, one that is surprisingly quelled by the seemingly indifferent Yurie.  Between this bizarre occurrence and the unforeseen return of Richard to the family space, the various failures of the members of the family are pushed to the forefront and each is able to deal with their individual issues, while also understanding that they are within a family structure simultaneously, one that should prosper both within and detached from the individual.  Although the family clearly moves to a place of forgiveness, the rumbling and eventual explosion of a nearby volcano proves to be the last bit of push needed for a new direction in their lives, even if violently so.

I want so desperately to unpack every bit of minutia in this film, but I am aware that it is a lot going on and it is only exacerbated by not being completely versed on the various genres at play both in their Western context and their appropriation within a Japanese setting.  Furthermore, I am far too lacking in knowledge of the familial space in Japan to offer a further consideration.  I make all these claims, because I am still hoping that I can draw some conclusions based on post-colonial bodies and having scene not only other Miike films, but quite a lot of Japanese cinema as well (although I could always stand to view more).  I want first to consider Miike's use of claymation within the film, while things like Alice and The Fantastic Mr. Fox have managed to push the consideration of the childlike association to such an advertising style, it is decidedly entrenched within the cinema of young children and Miike is clearly using it in this context.  The humorous, slapstick nature of the situations occurring in this setting lead one to assume a situation in which it is wholly funny, if not a bit on the grotesque side, but I would argue that it is using this very non-threatening medium to call attention to very real issues of violence, based in oppression within the context of modern Japan.  This could emerge in two distinct ways, the first being a fear of the colonized past, wherein the performative Richard, donning his literal costume, represents an idea of the colonial figure as idea, even though he himself is indeed a colonized body in the context, his rejection is affecting his body, whereas the claymation serves as a means to directly address the violent bodily harm at play within post-colonial and later gendered oppression, by making light of it.  Brechtian as it may be, it is calling attention to the viewers own concerns, by placing it under the guise of humor and childlike comedy.  This same critique could be extended to consider masculinity within the musical numbers as well, whether it be the action movie inspired musical number about male sacrifice, or the entire scenes surrounding the deeply disturbing engagement between a young girl and the sumo wrestler guest.  It is all a veneer of hyper-idealism that plays into the reality which is far from ideal.  Indeed, this is on a level of anti-escapism equal to Von Trier's Dancer in the Dark.

Key Scene:  The karaoke style sing-a-long portion had me laughing uncontrollably the entire time.

The DVD is a bit pricey and not the best quality.  While I can hold out for a bluray upgrade in the future that is probably not very likely.  As such, renting is the most appropriate course of action.

What He Did To Shakespeare We Are Now Doing To Poland: To Be Or Not To Be (1942)

It is no small feat to create a narrative that is anything but dreary and preoccupied with loss and death during a war time era, this proves true for the previous post regarding A Matter of Life and Death which situates itself as a romance story amidst the death of war.  I assumed that comedy, while certainly present within the era would find itself entirely relegated to efforts relating to the warfront or training buddy films, never to step foot onto the fields of battle where such levity would invariably be misguided and executed poorly.  More so, I entirely dismissed the possibility that a film could emerge from  a setting involving any sort of concentration camp/occupied country space, specifically Poland.  However, Ernst Lubitsch's uproariously funny and poignantly serious To Be or Not To Be manages to be exactly the film to prove that when considering comedy, almost anything is fair game as long as those creating the jokes and humor know what they are doing and execute it with the appropriate respect and understanding it deserves.  On paper, nothing about To Be or No To Be should really work, between Polish citizens passing as Hitler and a oft-repeated joke involving infidelity and Shakespearian monologues, the film, one would assume, would either become heavily dated or better be served as a contemporary remake (Mel Brooks actually remade this film later in his career, which makes complete sense considering the subject matter and degree of serious commentary underlying the jokes).  Of course, cinematic history is filled with a ton of examples of unexpected moments in a movement, films that disregard the expectations or demands of the time to create something truly though-provoking and challenging, while also affording the moviegoer the desired escapism necessary for a great piece of non-experimental cinema.  It should me noted that To Be or Not To Be indeed has moments in which the gravitas of Nazi occupation invades the narrative, and deservedly so since it was an event that occurred and negatively affected whole nations, however, it is also worth considering that to people experience the real traumas, both abroad and personally, finding humor where possible proved greater a good than initially imaginable.

To Be or Not To Be focuses on the experiences of a Polish theater group at the onset of Hitler's moving through Europe, in which the troupe, full of idealistic actors attempt to provide escapism to their community by putting classic works like Hamlet, as well as plays parodying the infamous leader.  Although the group of actors are not particularly brilliant at their work, especially the leading couple Joseph (Jack Benny) and Maria Tura (Carole Lombard) who spend far more time bickering than they do assuring their success, in fact, their constant feuding comes to heightened state when Joseph realizes that Maria is talking with a young officer who constantly visits her during his performance of Hamlet's most famous lines, from where the film draws its title.  Hoping to catch her in the act, his attempt is halted by the announcement that Hitler has just invaded the border of Poland and, therefore, leads the group to refocusing their efforts on resistance.  This resistance proves well-organized and relatively efficient, although the power of the German army is far too great and Poland eventually succumbs to Nazi rule, much to the disconcertion of those still living there, particularly Joseph and Maria.  When the young soldier with whom Maria has taken a liking one Stobinski (Robert Stack) attempts to send a message to his new love via Professor Salinsky (Stanley Ridges) an assumed ally to the Polish, he is put off by Salinsky's complete ignorance to the famous Maria.  This information leads to suspicions of Salinksy being a spy and the resistance takes up a counter-intelligence movement in the hopes of trapping Salinsky and preventing him from betraying Stobinski and the other members of the town.  Considering that the group is a set of actors, they find their best course of action to be pretending to be high ranking SS officials, to which Salinsky has no knowledge of in physical terms.  This ruse works, until the set of actors go a bit overboard with their performance, ultimately, leading to their killing Salinsky in an ultimate form of silence.  At this point Joseph undertakes the role of Salisnky, now hoping to trick the Nazis a feat the works for length enough to extract the resistance from Poland, but not after one of the members passes as Hitler.  The group escapes to Scotland where their story is revered and Joseph earns the ability to play Hamlet, although in a clever final twist, another young man steps away amidst his monologue, fueling yet another layer of suspicion for the overly sensitive actor.

It is no difficult task to suggest that To Be or Not To Be is a film that is expressly concerned with performance, in fact, the performing of a theater troupe always influences the narrative, even in its more emotionally heightened moments, where their resistance movement acts take on a political level, most powerfully captured in their graffiti of Hitler hanging from the gallows.  However, I mean to refer to the notion of performing power, or at the very least appropriating the images of authority to pass as knowledgable in a moment of fear and ignorance.  Professor Salinsky, one of the characters decided villains arguably betrays others in the vain hopes that it will afford him safety against the ever encroaching armies of Germany.  It is fair to say that he is performing betrayal, because he sees it as a means to save his own skin, not so much as a genuine act of loathing.  He has no power within the Nazi army, evidenced by his inability to identify fake versions of key figures.  Furthermore, his own foolish belief that he can perform properly allows him to place a problematically high amount of trust in Maria who he convinces to be a spy.  Maria eternally tied to the resistance, nonetheless, performs the role of support to Salinsky, a illogical move in the eyes of others not because she would chose to side with Germany, but because she would be swayed in her decision by such an unattractive man.  Joseph arguably has the most to lose or gain from each performance, taking the risks of passing as people in the face of immediate danger, whether pretending to be Colonel Erhardt when Salinksy initially returns to Poland or reversing the process by pretending to Salisnky when he meets with Erhardt (Sig Rugman) played up humorously when the conversations seem to mirror one another.  Passing, in the case of this film requires a heavy degree of audacity and willingness to stretch beyond comfort, an act made possible perhaps by the very real threat failure assures.  However, it is also contingent on a power dynamic that is predicated upon blind obedience, affirmed by a fear of Hitler emerging, and, ultimately, a cowering of his fake presence, even by the most trusted of his advisors.  Infamy allows for silence, which for the most part is problematic, but when tested it can allow for those oppressed to earn safety.  Yet Lubitsch reminds people that a certain degree of performance pulls from reality and the Shylock part that draws the group its final bit of safety is as much pretend as it is is enflamed by a real question of suffering in the face of evil.

Key Scene:  For a decidedly comedic film the maddening imagery of the initial resistance acts and the Nazi occupation might be some of the most intense of the entire World War II era.

I watched this completely unaware of an upcoming Criterion release, I would suggest holding off until that bluray comes about, it is certain to be visually stunning.

Sometimes Things Need To Be Reset: The Comedy (2012)

When I warn people about films being abrasive and controversial to the point of having moments that are downright unwatchable, it is usually a result of some sort of graphic depiction of sexual violence, as is the case with almost all of Salo; Or the 120 Days of Sodom, or it is due to their sheer disregard for political correctness in the name of a larger statement on art and middle American values, as certainly occurs within Harmony Korine's Gummo.  Yet what one receives when viewing last years The Comedy, a film starring Tim Heidecker of Tim and Eric fame, is a film that is equally abrasive in its visual offerings, as well as main character, without the sort of artistic detachment or political statements of the aforementioned films, and before you continue reading this post, I want to make it absolutely clear that my noting of this films off-putting and disconcerting elements are not a sign of a critique in any way on my part, in fact, I absolutely become mesmerized with The Comedy.  Of course, the title is decidedly deceptive and will surely prove to be an unwanted encounter for many people on Netflix who see the title and expect an outright hilarious film.  Instead, under the brilliant directorial vision of Rick Alverson, viewers are provided with an indie work that throws caution to the wind in deconstructing exactly how disconnected a privileged white yuppie finds themselves, particularly in the face of real world oppression and suffering.  The title is more than apt for a film that is rather sparse on comedic moments, although some of Heidecker's improvisation is glorious, in that it takes comedy in much the same sense that Shakespeare did, allowing it to simply depict the absurdity of certain detached groups existences, complete with all their frivolous absurdity.  Of course, The Comedy clearly lands on the side of condemnation, but that is not to say that it is not aware of the possibility of realization, especially within regards to the main character, whose movement between a world of PBR-fueled awkward sexual encounters to a very real understanding of the facts of death, allow for a narrative of the most minor of advances towards maturity, yet in the way of this biting film, viewers are left asking the question of whether or not such an inconsequential change allows for a avenue of forgiveness for the truly degrading behavior enacted upon others by the privileged bodies that occupy the filmic space.

The Comedy focuses nearly entirely on the experiences of Swanson (Tim Heidecker) a well-to-do kid whose money seems to be very much tied to the financial success of an ailing father.  His wealth allows him to circle himself with other trust fund kids who spend their days guzzling a bizarre combination PBR and high-end bourbon, while spouting off terrible sex based jokes, or diatribe against the system that seems to support those with little.  Swanson in particular, seems set on making persons exist within an awkward state as a means to find some sort of validation for his malaise fueled existence, whether this involves invading the work of immigrant landscapers, or suggesting that Adolf Hitler might not have been a terrible guy had his ideas properly panned out.  It is clear that even through all this, Swanson possesses a crippling sense of loneliness, often exiling himself to trips on his boat, or going to an "urban" club by himself in search of sex, with persons of a particular racial background.  It never appears that Swanson has any direction to his actions, at one point taking a job as a dishwasher, simply because he happens to be in the area at the moment and applies for the position, much to the confusion of the employer.  It is not until he pays a cab driver an absurd amount of money simply to drive his cab that things become problematic, especially when he refuses to respect the drivers request of calm and normal driving when he makes cat calls at a girl he passes.  This less than close run in with trouble seems to do little to change Swanson, in fact, when he goes out with a waitress on his boat, he sits curiously indifferent when after taking a combination of drugs and alcohol she begins having convulsions.  The closing scenes of the film involve Swanson apparently going on a biking purge, only to follow this by more absurd drinking and viewing of old photographs and porn with his buddies.  Yet,  the closing moments of the film show Swanson playing at the beach, happily welcoming a young boy into a game of innocent splashing, suggesting a longing for childhood, although his simplistic movement through the world certainly implies that this desire is already a reality.

The beauty of the film The Comedy is that it manages to use the genre of pretentious hipster mumblecorp (in this case negative, although they can be good) film to completely reject the sort of disillusion relating to the struggles of rich white kids trying to justify their lives.  This can be horribly delivered and fall short as happens in The Pleasure of Being Robbed, or work when the conventions are undercut in the closing sequences of Entrance.  The Comedy is decidedly on the side of undercutting, but there is no degree of suggestion that this could be redemptive, the PBR-infused inquiries into the questions of life that do indeed exist in so many of these films come crashing down when Swanson uses such moments to push people away from one another, most notably himself, and viewing this occur within The Comedy made me realize that it often occurs in a variety of mumblecorp films through the "look how much smarter" I am moments, again Heidecker just blows it absolutely out of proportion.  Similarly these films often take for granted the characters abilities to move through their landscapes, even if completely desolate, at least this is very much the case for Swanson and his other pals, who use cabs unapologetically, and demand that the cab drivers provide them with their every request, or they will flat out refuse to tip them as a result.  It is an element of the "struggling yuppie" that they often ignore their ability to move freely away from their problems, or better yet mask them with drugs and booze, hell, Swanson's boat is the ultimate form of excessive escapism.  Another tragedy lies in the characters of such films working in dead end jobs while assumedly aspiring to do something else, with little gratitude for the value of employment, particularly in the abysmal economy wherein many of these films were produce.  Swanson, again, takes a job just for the hell of it, never really considering that the work could mean the livelihood to another individual.  Of course, the most intense and baffling scene occurs in a church and sort of proves the centrifuge for the downfall Swanson experiences in the second half of the film.

Key Scene:  The shuffle sequence in the church will have you in awe, I felt my mouth dropping in confusion and awe, both moved and disturbed simultaneously.

This is a recent addition to Netflix Watch Instant and should be viewed before it disappears for one reason or another.

You Have Poor Social Skills. You Have A Problem: Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

Silver Linings Playbook may prove to be the biggest surprise for me from 2012, not because it is a particularly revolutionary film, or because it came out of nowhere as a huge surprise in filmmaking.  I enjoy David O. Russell, however, the seemingly onslaught of praise directed at this film, not to mention  the claims that it was deserved of every Oscar possible had me a little uncertain, particularly considering that it is essentially a dark romantic comedy.  Why then is it my biggest surprise of last year, well...I would have to say it has everything to do with it proving to be a really great film, regardless of me rooting heavily against it before ever watching even the trailer.  I am honestly trying to be better about actually viewing and considering a work before dismissing it completely, and has proven to benefit my opinion of a work like Silver Linings Playbook, as well as something like American Pie awhile back, although it does prove at many times to confirm my preconceived notions about the film, which is certainly the case with Gone With The Wind.  Hell, who knows, maybe this dedication to seeing before judging will eventually get me around to actually watching a Tyler Perry movie, but I know the likelihood of that is quite minimal.  I say all this digressing from the actual film at hand, which is a rather raw and subtly experimental film by the now well-established David O. Russell who proves to be  impossible to categorize as far as genre is concerned, making everything from his most recent film to the excellent The Fighter, as well as Three Kings, a war movie that I have heard only praise towards.  In a year that saw a lot of directors playing within their comfort zones what Russell offers in Silver Linings Playbook is not only out of the norm for himself, but for many of the performers as well, and while it is certainly not the flawless film people seem so sure it is, I will say that it is certainly worth viewing and evident of what is possible within in the comedic genre, both as a means to make audiences laugh, as well as a way to consider some of the more troubled aspects of a decaying traditionalist society.

Silver Linings Playbook focuses primarily on Pat (Bradley Cooper) an ex-substitute teacher who is being released from a psychiatric ward after being placed their for nearly beating a man to death after discovering him having sex with his wife in the shower.  Pat struggles to maintain any degree of normalcy after this event, especially considering that any sensory experience from the trauma triggers rage within him associated with that event, a particular Stevie Wonder song serving as a perfect example.  Knowing his serious condition, Pat's parents Dolores (Jackie Weaver) and Pat Sr. (Robert De Niro) walk on eggshells around him, although Pat Sr.'s involvement with bookie work after the loss of his pension leads to some very heavy stress within the household.  Regardless of this, Pat seeks safety running in the streets and attempting to get in mental and physical shape in order to win back his wife.  Of course, this task is not easy considering that Pat attempts to avoid taking medication and is so mentally distressed that he has convinced himself of his wife's certain forgiveness.  At a party for Pat's recovery Pat meets a sister of a friends wife named Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence) who is facing her own psychological troubles after the loss of her husband.  The two instantly create a derisive chemistry mocking one another in their mental duress, yet clearly drawn to each other in a more than platonic way.  Tiffany convinces Pat that she is capable of assuring communication with his wife, despite a restraining order if he is willing to, in turn, serve as a partner for her in a dance competition.  Needless to say this task proves challenging, both in regards to their respective mental issues, as well as a slew of outside forces attempting to interfere, all culminating into their performance that, at this point in the narrative, has taken on a more than recreational element and indeed possesses very high stakes.  All the while Pat's wife has decided to make an appearance and see how he is doing, much the the dismay of Tiffany, although as the closing moments of the film suggest Pat may have grown to understand his own relationship to his troublesome past, as well as his own necessary detachment from it as well.

This movie takes the possibility of mental breakdown very seriously, positing that it only takes the right troublesome event to lead a person into a depressed self-destructive existence and is something that I think often fails to be appropriately considered within cinema, as was certainly the case with the terribly uninsipring Young Adult.  Sure the whiteness of Silver Linings Playbook, as well as the economic safety of the characters involved should not be ignored, yet it has no qualms showing the very destructive actions a person suffering from complete mental decay goes through, whether it be dangerous sexual engagements, or working out to the point of counter productivity, Russell makes it quite clear that people can snap and when they do it is necessary for those around them to become exceptionally unified.  Much of Silver Linings Playbook then becomes not about Pat and Tiffany's own struggle with their psyches, but instead; a film about those close to them learning to help their psyches evolve back to something remotely normal, at least this is certainly the case between Pat and his brother who seems to think that he can cheer his troubled brother up by boasting on his own successes.  Although the true narrative evolution comes via Pat Sr. whose own failures as a paternal figure have led to him being overly aggressive in stress, yet his has not resulted in the injury of another individual, therefore, he has not been othered by society like his son, although there are moments in the narrative where one considers whether or not he is more insane.  Eventually, however, it is Pat Sr. coming to his own senses about his failures and missteps that drives a major portion of the narrative along and makes viewers consider mental breakdowns and equally problematic mental barriers as they relate to interpersonal communication in the familial sense, one of the main underlying elements in this exceptional dark comedy.

Key Scene:  I am, and always will be, a sucker for Bob Dylan and the use of "Girl from North Country" in this film was beyond stellar.

Movie theater, go now. It helps one to appreciate this film if they see it with others around.

We Must Always Be On Guard For The Mischievous Lip Drift: Bernie (2012)

I can only describe Bernie as one very specific thing and I realize how obscure it sounds even as I elaborate, but to me, one could only define this absurdist masterpiece as a Louvin Brothers song that has been put to film in an homage to the mockumentary stylings of Christopher Guest, while clearly taking heavy influence from the underlying social tensions of American Psycho.  Seriously, that is exactly what I felt while watching this film, which technically came out in 2011, but has not seen wide release until the past year or so, making it a contender during awards season, as well as proving to be one of the most overlooked works of the last year, in a very literal sense, considering that people did not simply watch it and dismiss it, but actually completely avoided it all together.  I am fully aware that he film contains two of the most off-putting actors in Hollywood, in Jack Black and Matthew McConaughey, but both are doing some excellent work in this film, particularly Black who goes against his garrulous and bombastic traditional role, for something much more reserved, but equally grandiose in its spectacle.  It is great to see Richard Linklater back in the game providing viewers with some really great work, quite reminiscent of his early films, Slacker in particular, wherein a society is clearly in a state of crumbling disillusion but can only manage to deal with such issues by either condemning those around them or living vicariously through those doing far better than themselves.  It is clear from the onset that viewers are to take Bernie lightly, the title cards intercut throughout the film, along with the incorporation of interviews by the townspeople manage to undermine any sort of legitimate commentary on the nature of deception and psychological breakdown, but as Linklater reminds viewers, on more than one occasion throughout the film, as much as one may mock the characters within the film, at the end of the day they are truly based off of real individuals making the humor become far less laughable and incredibly real, much like The Informant!, but with an even higher degree of scathing social criticism, directed wholly at the "heart of America."

Bernie, centers on the title character, played by Jack Black, who is a flamboyant, but well loved assistant funeral director in the small Texas town of Carthege.  While everyone is rather certain on the homosexuality of Bernie they do seem intent on claiming him to be one of the most standup guys they have ever met, and find him to be a true gift to the elderly community, particularly the older women who welcome his hospitality in a time of great sadness.  Bernie, in fact, takes a particular liking to one of the older women in the community, Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine) who is initially dismissive to the awkward advances of Bernie, but comes around after a few visits, realizing that he is indeed the only nice person in the entire town, never mind that Marjorie made a reputation as an incredibly mean individual turning down those who requested loans at the bank she ran in place of her late husband.  Things boil over for Bernie, when, after quitting his job at the funeral home and becoming solely dependent on Marjorie, he realizes that she is only using him as a chauffeur, caretaker and general servant with little care for his happiness, going so far as to openly chastise him for spending too much time with his two hobbies: flying and musical theater.  During one day at Marjorie's house, Bernie becomes incapable of starring at the old woman over-chewing her food any longer and shots her with a hunting rifle and subsequently stuffing her in a meat freezer.  The town goes on assuming that Marjorie is simply suffering from a bad stroke, yet when Marjorie's stock broker expects fowl play on the part of Bernie he manages to obtain a search warrant, where in they discover her body.  At this point Danny Buck Davidson (Matthew McConaughey) a Texas district attorney enters the picture with hopes of prosecuting the murder, yet when he realizes that even after Bernie openly admits to the crime, the townspeople still believe him to be innocent, leading to Danny moving the trial to another county, a rare occurrence, especially since the notion of a "fair trial" would hinder Bernie.  Within his new trial Bernie is found guilty and sent to jail, where he continues to receive visits from the people of Carthege who presume him innocent.

This movie is a scathing film, although its lightheartedness and concern for the opinions of the common person would lead many a viewer to assume otherwise.  Linklater, however, manages to even trick viewers into believing Bernie to be an incredibly likable guy.  In constructing the narrative in such a way the film causes one to consider what effect community involvement and outreach play into the judgement of a character.  Sure Bernie is a great role model within the church and goes out of his way to spend money on those less fortunate than himself, but the narrative constantly sneaks in reminders that he is not an entirely functional person and certainly exploits others when the situation proves beneficial, whether it be the sale of coffins, or the use of an aging woman's money to engage in lavish world travels.  Bernie's dandy veneer is always to be questioned, yet Linklater's incorporation of praiseful words by the townspeople make that difficult to do, not to mention how likable Black makes Bernie seem, nonetheless, he is quite capable of murder and deceit and certainly has no problem using devious tactics throughout the film.  Secondly, the film questions the notion of a "good and wholesome" middle America, one where nothing bad can happen and when it does it is clearly the result of muckraking by outside forces, in this case the folks of Carthege believe Danny Buck Davidson to be using his political aspirations to destroy a stand-up guy like Bernie, and while this may have a degree of validity, it is clear that Danny really does realize how disillusioned everyone in the town has become in relation to the town hero.  It is no accident that it is only through creating a cultural/social difference between Bernie and the common folk in the trial that Danny is able to secure a guilty verdict, by a simple question of what wine pairs best with fish.  The townspeople point to this moment in the trial as an assured moment of his demise, it made him certifiably different and therefore capable of fault.  Linklater seems to suggest that as long as an individual can obtain insider status within the "heart of America" they can get away with anything...even murder.  However, one cannot forget that Linklater is merely adapting a very real story, one that causes me to consider my understanding of human nature far more than I imagined I would upon initially viewings this superb dark satire.

Key Scene:  I laughed the entire time Jack Black sang "Love Lifted Me" in his car, and proceeded to laugh through the rest of the film, but his opening moment is so ridiculous that it is hard not to become entirely occupied in the narrative unfolding.

Another gem watchable on Netflix, do yourself a favor and watch this film, I can only assume that you will want to pass it along as did I, because it is in need of as many fans as possible.

Life Has A Gap In It...It Just Does: Take This Waltz (2012)

Take This Waltz can be an initially deceptive film, because if a viewer is to only take the first five or so minutes of the film as a signifier of its larger concept, it could easily be dismissed as pretentious hipster filmmaking in which the filmmaker seems more intent on showing how great their vision is cinematically than what their story offers, however, once a person makes it through this initial bump the  story explodes into something tragically real and soberingly poetic, never slowing down and constantly adding both ethereal and jarring imagery to study life in its most plain existence.  It is no small task to make Michelle Williams look like a complete mess, yet a combination of realist techniques on the part of director Sarah Polley, as well as a commitment to a disheveled appearance both physically and emotionally on the part of Williams makes for one of her most honest and gut-wrenching performances since Blue Valentine.  Like Blue Valentine, Take This Waltz does not attempt to offer an idyllic vision of human existence, although it certainly offers a considerably larger amount of moments in which life proves to be beautiful even if for a few fleeting seconds, almost always brought back to the jarring despair of reality.  While I have not seen Polley's earlier work Away From Her, I hear many good things about it and cannot wait to investigate it in relation to this work.  Take This Waltz demands its viewers to consider what sacrifice as an action truly means, allowing for this to serve both as a issue faced by characters within the narrative as well as the actors, who engage in actions in front of the camera that would not have been imaginable only a few years earlier, particularly some of the things pulled off by Sarah Silverman who delivers an excellent performance.  As I come closer to watching enough movies to justify formulating my top ten list of 2012, I am quite certain that this film will make the list, in fact, as I look over some of the films I still have to view it seems quite impossible that this will be topped, although to be fair, I had no idea what I was going into with this work and that could prove similar for some films I have yet to watch.  Also I am a sucker for well-executed cinematic references and the one tip of the hat to The 400 Blows is incredible.

Take This Waltz focuses almost entirely on the experiences of aspiring writer Margot (Michelle Williams) who is introduced to viewers as she is returning from a vacation to her hometown of Toronto, on the trip she meets a man named Daniel (Luke Kirby) whose agressive demeanor and cool attitude prove intriguing to Margot, so much so that a clear romance begins to emerge.  Yet upon arrival home, even after the revelation that Kirby is her neighbor, Margot pushes Daniel away because she is married.  It is only then that viewers are introduced to Margot's loving and stalwart husband the chicken chef Lou (Seth Rogen).  Lou clearly loves Margot and wants the best for them both, although the ability of his recovering alcoholic sister Geraldine (Sarah Silverman) to have a child with no trouble clearly looms over him and affects the communication between himself and Margot.  Matters are only made worse when Margot begins to secretly plan meetings with Daniel, who is receptive and actively attempts to get her to be unfaithful.  Margot clearly desires to be with Daniel, but cannot stand the thought of betraying Lou who has been more than loving and not deserving of Margot's infidelity, as such Margot plans to meet Daniel in thirty years, in which case she believes that she will have been faithful long enough to earn a kiss.  However, life does not prove that simple and due to part purpose and part chance Daniel keeps emerging into Margot's daily life, whether it be an accidental encounter that leads to both Margot and Lou riding in Daniel's rickshaw, or Daniel being invited to a house party by Lou who is oblivious to the entire ordeal.  Racked with guilt, Margot finally admits to her feelings and leaves a defeated Lou to be with Daniel, yet as the narrative suggests even the newness and passion of her life with Daniel fades and repetition and normalcy emerge.  In a sobering scene, both literally and metaphorically, Geraldine condemns Margot for her selfish actions and demands that she stop running away from her choices, leading to a closing scene of Margot enveloped in isolation, all of which is paired with the best use of "Video Killed The Radio Star" in a film ever.

Polley's film approaches the idea of infidelity, faithfulness and betrayal in one of the most honest and acceptable manners I have seen in a film to date, where as The Bridges of Madison County approached the problem of a woman questioning her unappreciated place in life, Take This Waltz does not afford the main character the outlet.  She has no justification in her infidelity, because aside from simply marrying to early and falling out of love, her husband has done nothing to deserve her unfaithfullness, in fact, he is almost too aware of her desires and needs.  The only serious argument they seem to have prior to her leaving is when he dismisses her advances while busy at work testing recipes, although viewers are quite aware that her sexual desires are likely an outlet from her tensely sexual conversation with Daniel only moments earlier.  Margot cannot be condemned too heavily for her eventual leaving, because she is honest about her feelings towards Daniel and aside from spending time with him in a platonic way never actually acts upon them in a physical way, nonetheless, Lou is justified in his feelings of betrayal because while she has not cheated on him she has undermined and tossed away an unspoken agreement to stay together for as long as time allows, emphasized with a heightened sense of tragedy in the final water tossing scene.  All of this blurring of viewers' notions of relationships makes it quite difficult to conceptualize the victim within the film, because while Lou is certainly getting a raw deal he cannot expect to force someone to stay with him that simply does not have their heart in the game, nor can Daniel or Margot be blamed for their desires because they emerge naturally and are not intended to be vindictive to Lou in any way.  Polly, I would argue, seems to suggest that life makes victims of us when we cannot properly address situations the moment they emerge, especially when the consequences have dire effects on both individuals hearts and the relationships of those around them.

Key Scene:  The initial amusement park ride scene is filmed with such cinematic beauty that when it comes to a jarring stop I felt my heart jump a bit, something I am far more used to experience during a scary movie, yet it is so tragic in this context that I could not help but react emotively.

This is yet another great film from last year going under the radar and it deserves all the love it can get, buy the bluray, or watch it on Netflix while you still can.

It's A Harvest Cake: Drag Me To Hell (2009)

It is really hard to say how I come to get certain films in my Netflix queue, however, I am sure when I push them into the top ten I have likely read an article about them or have had them highly recommended by a friend or fellow blogger, at least that was the case with Sam Raimi's 2009 film Drag Me To Hell, which I was up until now completely unaware existed.  Yet, while wasting hours away reading articles on Cracked.com, I discovered one about crazy hidden messages within films and they made particular note of this film.  Knowing that I could not keep my curiosity at bay I had to see if it was truly the huge metaphor on eating disorders that everyone seemed set on commenting.  While this is clearly a means of study within the narrative, to relegate the movie to nothing more than that is quite unfair, because what Raimi offers in this special effects laden and visually striking horror film is an absolutely perfected bit of genre work, perhaps his best since Evil Dead 2.  Unlike many horror films that pace their jumps over spaces and gaps, Drag Me To Hell often layers jump scares throwing multiple ones within a matter of a few seconds, to the point that by a few minutes in I found myself on the edge of the sofa pacing my breaths as to not become to shocked by any unexpected scare.  Of course, since this is a Raimi film one can expect a considerable degree of schlock to emerge, however, knowing this going in it becomes bearable and quite acceptable, lending way to quite a few moments of  noticeably stellar cinematography and editing, all causing viewers to deeply question what value and validity they place on the reality portrayed.  Furthermore, Raimi is a clever director and throughout Drag me To Hell viewers of his cult series The Evil Dead will pick up multiple references to his well-known works, whether they be extended trips to tool sheds, cabin vacation plans, or a particularly familiar car.  Combined together, Drag Me To Hell becomes an exceptional bit of genre filmmaking, one that deserves more consideration and may well inspire me to revisit some of my favorite works from 2009 to see where I would place this on the list.

Drag Me To Hell begins in with a Mexican family bringing their young boy to a seance woman with the hopes that she can cure him of a curse he has received after stealing a necklace from a gypsy, yet failing to do so the boy's body is literally pulled through the ground by demonic hands, to what viewers can assume to be hell.  This then cuts to our main character Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) as up and coming bank lender who is vying for the position of assistant manager at her job, although her chances are growing worse with the competition of Stu (Reggie Lee) a shark of a loaner who is far better at making tough decisions with his clients.  Realizing she must step her game up to assure the position she takes a hard stance on her next appointment, the elderly gypsy woman Mrs. Ganush (Lorna Raver) who has been late on her payments twice already, and even when the woman begs on her hands and knees Christine refuses as a means to make a statement.  This leads to the woman attacking her and yelling assumed gibberish before being hauled out by security.  Stunned but firm in her decision, Christine heads home from work only to be attacked by the woman in the parking lot, in a fight that seems to witness Mrs. Ganush pulling super human feats of strength and after knocking out Christine she grabs her button and places a curse on it, one that becomes a point of paranoia and fear for Christine, much to the demise of her loving boyfriend Clay (Justin Long) who is initially skeptical, particularly when she seeks help from a spiritual advisor.  Eventually though, no amount of denial or hope that she will sleep off nightmares allows for Christine to get better and after vomitting blood at work, she takes it upon herself to find a way to end the curse, which leads to some dark travels through black magic and satanic rituals.  Eventually following the demands to free herself from the curse, Christine obtains the promotion and is gearing up for a stress-free life with Clay, yet a last minute confession of her own greed and lack of concern for humanity quickly changes events and the film's closing takes a turn for the darker.

Much is made of the eating disorder commentary throughout the film and, believe me, it is certainly present.  Between the oral fixation and various amount of things leaving and entering mouths throughout the film it is clear the the psychological decaying is certainly related to consumption or the lac there of, which is reemphasized by Christine's not eating throughout most of the narrative, except for two moments in which she eats ice cream, something that she knows will upset her lactose-intolerant stomach.  This is of course tied to a horrible body image, something that is depicted in her moment looking at her life on a farm which is juxtaposed with a pig, as well as her abrasive interaction with Mrs. Ganush's granddaughter.  To simply pinpoint the film as concerning eating disorders seems to overlook the large commentary on the physical and psychological affects of stress, whether they be shown through the decaying sanity of Christine or the crippled body of Mrs. Ganush they clearly suffer.  Raimi seems quite content to blame many of these issues on financial failures, making particular note of Christine's failure to do the humane thing in response to assuring she receives a promotion, made all the more problematic by the fact that she is not seemingly hurting for money, especially since Clay seems to be doing well as a psychology professor.  The notion of being drug to hell takes on in this reading a very physical sense, the closing scenes are intended to suggest her punishment for doing the incorrect deed, however, it could also become an interesting commentary on her misguided efforts to deal with a problematic body image, which result not in her success, but instead in her eventual suicide.  Perhaps the button does not represent the curse, but a memory of her negative body image so internalized and damaging that it leads her to kill herself.  Of course this is all just conjecture, after all it is a Sam Raimi film, which means it could all just be moments of intense shlock violence with no sort of logical connection, but it is just too damn good for that to be the case.

Key Scene:  The first moment in which the fly factors in heavily is so slow paced and simple that it seems a bit out of place compared to the rest of the film's moments of suspense, yet it also possesses one of the cooler film tricks I have seen in quite some time, nearly breaking the fourth wall, or the dream world of the narrative as well.

This is a hidden gem and is super cheap on bluray, I added a copy to my wishlist to get in the next month and you should make similar plans.  Help me make this a more well respected film by passing it along to friends.

It's Still Just Once A Year Isn't It?: Groundhog Day (1993)

Defining Bill Murray as an actor can prove to be an incredibly difficult thing, as his performances range from the incredibly absurd in something like Coffee and Cigarettes to disturbingly dreary and honest like in Lost in Translation, however, it seems agreed upon that his best performance exists within Groundhog Day.  I must admit when I would read this it baffled me because having only now revisited the film for the first time since childhood, I seemed to remembered it being a highly comedic film with no social value.  However, this revisitation afforded me the ability to see how contemplative Groundhog Day is, as well as providing a clear argument as to why Bill Murray's best performance does indeed exist within this film.  The range of emotions played out throughout the films plot and Murray's ability to offer a keen and focused performance is truly a spectacle to behold.  Sure the film is endearingly stuck in the nineties and much of the humor is formulaic, but Groundhog Day has enough unusual moments, sweet encounters and a honest questions about how one would spend their days were they to repeat them.  This combination, along with the watchability of Groundhog Day helps to explain why it has cemented itself as a cult classic and as one of the best films of the nineties, so much so that it was chosen as one of the films to be saved by the National Film Archive.

Defining Bill Murray as an actor can prove to be an incredibly difficult thing, as his performances range from the incredibly absurd in something like Coffee and Cigarettes to disturbingly dreary and honest like in Lost in Translation, however, it seems agreed upon that his best performance exists within Groundhog Day.  I must admit when I would read this it baffled me because having only now revisited the film for the first time since childhood, I seemed to remembered it being a highly comedic film with no social value.  However, this revisitation afforded me the ability to see how contemplative Groundhog Day is, as well as provi....err, wait a second.

Groundhog Day follows disillusioned reporter Phil (Bill Murray) who is begrudgingly taking up his fourth trip to report on the famous Punxsutawney groundhog known for his predilections for weather reporting.  Along with Phil are his two co-workers who see Phil as a blowhard with serious delusions of grandeur, his cameraman Larry (Christopher Elliot) and his producer Rita (Andie McDowell) whom Phil finds attractive.  Awaking with much disinterest in performing his role as reporter, Phil goes through the motions as he drinks coffee, runs into a high school alumni and reads his lines as though it were just another day.  However, a severe blizzard traps Phil and his crew in Punxsutawney for the night.  This is when things begin to get weird, as Phil wakes up to realize that he is living the same day over and over again, stuck in a seemingly infinite loop, in what is to him the worst town on earth.  At first Phil reacts by enjoying excesses, once he realizes that even if he kills himself, he will still wake up at six each morning to the tunes of Sonny and Cher.  Eventually, Phil makes it a goal to win over Rita an effort that proves nearly successful, but not, perfect, particularly considering that any efforts he may make will be thwarted by having to start over the next day.  Phil, ultimately, realizes that he must act out positively in order to make Rita take notice, something that is made exceptionally easy by the fact that he has each moment and action down to a science.  His final winning over of Rita proves to be the means to break his curse, something he is careful to accept, but embraces warmly upon verification.

It is easy to see Groundhog Day as a run of the mill Bill Murray comedy, in which he rambles with near absurdity as the characters around him attempt to play the straight man to his funny.  However, there is clearly a philosophical pondering that exists on the layer below the comedic narrative.  For Phil each day becomes an ethical dilemma in that he is essentially engaging in actions that have no moral consequence.  It is perfectly valid that he drive head on into trains, smoke and consume like a glutton or go to bed with a variety of women, because the fact is that he will wake up to live the next day, as though nothing ever happened.  What becomes interesting is when he chooses to make positive actions, because they will go unacknowledged, particularly considering that Phil goes out of his way to learn and exact his help in a meaningful manner.  It truly ponder the age old question of: if you do a good act in the woods, will anybody be there to acknowledge it being done.  Of course the answer is no, but one should do it, nonetheless, because on some metaphysical karmic level it will be returned.  Finally, the film also posits the ethical issues of exploiting individuals with whom you have an intellectual and experiential advantage over, particularly for one's own devices.  Phil exploits his knowledge of the day to sleep with women and steal from banks, however, the narrative suggests that such actions will lead to disillusionment and despair, condemning them in the end.  I am sure there are other lays to Phil and his philosophy, but I am not versed on the matter enough to expand further.

Key Scene: The initial winning over of Rita on Phil's part is quite sweet.

As a classic American comedy, Groundhog Day is a must-watch movie and it is currently watch instantly on Netflix giving you no reason to miss the opportunity.

I Watched Signs Again Last Night: Jeff, Who Lives At Home (2011)

Sometimes making an enjoyable film is as simple as gathering together a few recognizable actors, throwing together a vaguely existential, yet sweetly honest script and a healthy dose of handheld camera action.  At least, that is how the Duplass brothers make filmmaking seem with their standout dark comedy Jeff, Who Lives At Home.  Placing much of its conceptual development in the notion that "things happen for a reason," the film is a welcoming ride of ups and so-so many downs between a family still grasping for their identity even into adulthood and old age.  Profound and revolutionary are not words I would ever toss at this film to describe its nature, but I would say that it hits its point with accuracy and wit.  Similar to their previous film Cyrus, this duo of directors have resuscitated independent filmmaking for me, something I have already said, but feel wholly obliged to remind my small readership.  The beauty of this film is that nothing is overdone, the acting is surprising restrained considering it is full of notably comedic actors, particularly Ed Helms who manages to make his loud method of acting work perfectly as a man flailing through his own disillusion.  Furthermore, the filmic narrative resides in the frame of a single day making the interconnectedness of each occurrence that much more meaningful and interesting.  While their visions of films clearly do not adhere to the norms of Hollywood tradition, the Duplass method of filmmaking is realized and seems assured to provide a ponderous and enjoyable movie.  Not to mention the film is set in Louisiana, always adding a degree of coolness to a film, even one such like this film.

Jeff, Who Lives At Home, as you might imagine does deal with a man named Jeff (Jason Segal) who still lives in his mothers basement.  While we are introduced to Jeff breaking the fourth wall and explaining the profound brilliance of the horror thriller Signs, it becomes evident that it is by no means entirely his story.  Along with Jeff is his brother Pat (Ed Helms) who desires so greatly to be and look successful that he uses his meager wages to buy an outdated Porsche, something that pushes his fiancé Linda (Judy Greer) over the edge, leading to her leaving him in frustration.  Along with this, there is Jeff and Pat's mother Sharon (Susan Sarandon) who is going through the motions of her dead end job and desires longingly to escape to a waterfall paradise.  Jeff moves through the film on a drug-fueled quest to find a man named Kevin, which leads to his eventual mugging and accidental meeting up with Pat, who himself is out escaping the feelings of despair, a result of Linda's leaving.  The two end up joining together on a quest to both find the elusive Kevin and for Pat to rekindle his relationship with Linda.  Meanwhile, Sharon becomes the point of affection for a secret admirer at her work, something she latches onto with joy.  However, as the narrative flows each comes to a realization that the thing they desire is unlikely to manifest it in the manner they would like, Jeff cannot find a quantifiable existence to Kevin, Pat realizes the Linda may be seeing another man and Sharon comes to realize that her ideals about her crush may not be anything she imagined.  Ultimately, the three meet up in a climactic bridge scene that has each of them redeem themselves, most importantly Jeff who seeks validation for his rather desultory life, manages to undertake a heroic action that makes him respected to the rest of his family.  It should be noted that the entire narrative is advanced by a simple task of needing to purchase wood glue.

The clear point of commentary within Jeff, Who Lives At Home is the lack of patriarchal intervention throughout the narrative.  Like Cyrus, the film focuses on a family still struggling from the lack of a paternal, or masculine, figure within their lives.  Sharon, as well as her two sons, make note of how difficult a lack of father proves to be in their daily lives, particularly Jeff who makes it the sole factor into his seemingly ineffectual lifestyle.  However, what the Duplass brothers suggest in their film is that the emergence of a father figure is not only unnecessary, but completely illogical.  Each character comes to their own personal realizations that their lives are completely their own, not to be oppressed by an unseen masculine figure who has clearly negatively affected their lives.  Jeff, who already relates to the feminine, as is clear in his monologue on Signs, manages to find a means to be heroic without asserting masculinity on a continual basis, while Pat learns to distance himself from the assumed notion that male dominance is understood and that the question of a female partner is not only acceptable, but ideal for a healthy relationship.   More importantly, without giving away the plot, Sharon also realizes the the void in her life does not need to be replaced by a male figure and she manages in an almost magical realist moment to come to terms with her own identity and self worth.  I know nothing about the Duplass Brothers personal lives, but I would venture to say that the amount of honesty in each of their works suggests that they may well have experienced many of the films moments in their own realities.

Key Scene: It involves lots and lots of running.

While I could sing the praises of Jeff, Who Lives At Home for hours, I am aware that it is by no means a must-own film.  In fact, I would fully suggest renting the film and enjoying it, because it is a great example of what indie film could and should be at this time in filmmaking.  Also the Michael Andrews soundtrack is perfect.

I'm Irish. Racism Is Part Of My Culture: The Guard (2011)

Many a films have dealt with the issues of what happens when the rural meets the urban, particularly when concerned with crime dealings.  However, when this concept is put in the hands of John Michael McDonagh, perhaps the most underrated director working right now, viewers are given a completely irreverent reversal of the traditional characters we expect in such a film.  Instead of the urban detective being foul-mouthed and slightly corrupt, The Guard decides to make the rural Irishman the person traipsing the line of good and evil, which when we consider the nature of society, this seems like a slightly more believable situation.  Nothing, and trust me I mean nothing, is bad about The Guard, like McDonagh's other masterpiece, In Bruges, this film is funny throughout, never collapsing to notions of political correctness, but also managing never to be in bad taste.  McDonagh plays up on racist ignorance and stereotypes in a more general sense in many of his works, but manages to always undermine them, while also providing voices to individuals who more often than not lack a representation in cinema.  As is always the case with McDonagh, viewers are offered a brilliant narrative that is riveting, tense and always rewarding, often flipping the entire understanding of who is to be trusted throughout the film.  Characters are always flawed within the film, but somehow it is easy to come to love them nonetheless, even the bad guys who inhabit The Guard are either so philosophically bad ass or madly insane that you cannot help but love them.  I know I could receive a lot of flack for making a suggestion such as this, but John Michael McDonagh, exists within the same vein as Quentin Tarantino and Guy Ritchie, but manages to be way way cooler when all is said and done.  So if you have not figured it out by now, I am enthralled by The Guard and find it to be everything one could want from not only a comedy, but a solid piece of cinema in general.

The Guard centers on the life of Seargant Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson) a foul-mouthed local cop who has no qualms exploiting the petty criminals of his small island town, with the intent of taking drugs, engaging in sex with prostitutes and dismissing his co-workers until he dies.  It seems as though Boyle will get away with his hazardous life of carefree exploits, until he is assigned a new partner Aiden McBride (Rory Keenan), who is young and gung-ho to fight crime.  When an inexplicable murder occurs, Boyle's new partner demands that they pour everything into getting to the bottom of it, Boyle mocks his eagerness and continues on his daily gallivanting as though nothing occurred.  Things change drastically though when FBI Agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) enters the picture.  Wendell brings news of a large scale drug trafficking case that involves men from London and Dublin who have taken up residence in Boyle's small island community.  Forced to become involved with the case Boyle moves through the motions of an investigation, only become more concerned when McBride is inexplicably assassinated.  The result of McBride's death is the forced cooperation of Boyle and Everett which leads to a series of uproarious encounters, most predicated on Boyle's latent racist ideologies, something for which he never apologizes.  As the investigation unfolds, it becomes evident that the entirety of the Irish police force is being bribed to turn a blind eye to the going-ons, something that Boyle becomes aware of after his own blackmail.  The only person unaware of the corruption occuring is Everett who succumbs to a lack of evidence and plans to leave for The States the next day.  Boyle assumes no role to inform him of his misinformation, until he himself is threatened by one of the criminals, something that sparks a nerve in Boyle to do the right thing.  After killing his captor, Boyle informs Everett of what has occurred and undertakes a revenge and destruction of the drug lords, eventually accruing the help of Everett in the process.  Boyle is lost at sea during the shootout and we are left uncertain of whether he survives, but the ending suggests that Everett has come to respect Boyle not only as a cop, but as a friend as well.

As could be said about any of McDonagh's work, The Guard occupies a variety of different points of criticism and in a rare occurrence I have decided to list a few of them as opposed to focusing on one specifically, it is just such a rich film that to pick specifics would be an injustice.  First off, as I noted earlier in the introduction, McDonagh often focuses on voices that fall to the way side in cinema, particularly crime thrillers.  In the case of The Guard voices are given to a black cop, a gay male, and even a Croatian woman, collectively this combination does not exist in any other fictional film that I am aware of, and certainly not one with such global appeal.  Furthermore, The Guard is a study of the relationship between viewers and how they live through the characters depicted.  Like a Pulp Fiction or  a Fight Club, viewers cannot help but adore the characters created within the film, however, one must also reconcile the actions undertaken by the characters.  While we can come to love a person like Boyle nearly instantly, the narrative constantly reminds us that he is insanely flawed and incredibly troubled, something that manifests itself most obviously with the relationship between himself and his mother.  Finally, The Guard, as is no surprise, considers the idea of ethic and moral relativity.  Boyle clearly exists in a problematic divide between good and evil, in that he is a cop, but also engages in a slew of illegal activities.  Furthermore, the films villain's reside in a problematic gray area, particularly their leader who is philosophical about his actions and clearly avoids violence and murder when possible.  The film ultimately suggest that good and evil is not a matter of the action, as much as whether the behaviors hinder the liberties of others, a profound statement for a blatantly comedic film.

Key Scene: Let's just say it involves a John Denver Song.

Buy It, Buy It. BUY IT!

There Is No Happy Love: 8 Women (2002)

The tagline for this move was simple: 8 Women, 1 Murder.  I will admit that it is not the greatest of taglines and led me to be a bit dismissive about the French work initially, however, it is seriously a film about the murder of one male and eight women who attempt to come to grips and find the culprit.  With that being said, 8 Women is fantastically quirky and completely beyond anything I could have possibly predicted.  The opening title sequence is rather frilly and almost tacky, perhaps intentional on the part of director Francois Ozon and delivers a commentary of what the film will be, a group of women acting in the most dramatic and frivolous ways possible as they attempt to make somewhat tacky excuses to their various misdeeds.  A combination of slapstick humor, musical numbers and snide humor, 8 Women is a  film that has inevitably redeemed my faith in French comedies.  Somewhere between the hipness of Godard and the whimsy of Almodovar lays 8 Women.  A colorful film, with a mind of its own, provides a complete reimagining of what we, as viewers, have come to recognize as a thriller.  Furthermore, despite the narrative being heavily involved in the notion that women are inherently deceptive, one cannot deny that it should be praised for having a cast that is composed nearly entirely of women, and the one male present only amounts to maybe a minute of screen time.  If for no other reason than because the film is riotously fun, it is a must-watch movie.

8 Women, as the title suggests, follows a group of 8 contentious women who are all recouping with the recent announcement that the familial head, patriarchal figure Marcel (Dominique Lamure), has been the victim of a murder.  This leads the house into unrest, initially with Marcel's discovery by his youngest daughter Catherine (Ludivine Sagnier) who constantly vies for the adoration and acknowledgement of pretty much anyone.  Catherine's sister, and Marcel's other daughter Suzon (Virgine Ledoyen) also become involved with the plot as she has recently returned home from college.  Marcel's wife Gaby (Catherine Deneuve) is also present, although she makes it clear that their relationship was strained.  Marny (Daniell Darrieux) is also in attendance as the mother in law to Marcel, she lives with both Marcel and Gaby in her old age.  Gaby's sister Augustine (Isabelle Huppert) is also a resident of the house because she suffers from a variety of heart issues making living alone inconceivable, add to the mix two maids and Marcel's own sister and paranoid claims arise instantly.  As each accusation flies it becomes clear that deception has existed within Marcel's household far before his recent death, ranging from affairs, to back door card games and a series of problematic business dealings that seem to put the biggest amount of strain on the entire family.  As the plot thickens, or falls apart depending on a persons interpretation, it becomes evident that each woman involved has a considerable secret they are hiding and combined together results in an unfathomable amount of deception, all that is blown away by a new fact about Marcel's death that will even surprise the most versed of film viewers.

It is hard to completely praise the film for its depictions of women in main roles as much of what is shown is egregiously problematic.  First off, the film clearly posits that women are amongst other things hysterical, deceptive, sex-crazed and vampiric in their craze for money.  None of these of course are factual claims about women in general and merely serve as a means of narrative continuation, played up to comedic proportions.  Furthermore, it is an issue that a film depicts women distrusting one another, but that again serves as narrative advancement and simply just needs to be acknowledge.  What the film does right is depict a group of women together, one in which they completely possess the narrative.  It is a woman-centered film, with women in it and only lacks a female director to complete the trifecta.  I would have to revisit the film to see if it passes the Bechdel Test, because considering that Marcel's death does serve as an overarching factor it is possible that it fails the test on the grounds of nobody having a conversation without mentioning a male figure.  Another notable factor of the film is that it approaches issues of gender, class and race simultaneously in a film, something I have only seen done one other time in French film via Black Girl, a film I highly recommend.  I hate to go with the statement that some acknowledgement is better than none, but in the case of such a fun and enjoyable film as 8 Women I cannot recommend it enough and praise it for what it does accomplish critically.

Key Scene: The initial song and dance number is most excellent, probably due to the fact that it is so unexpected.

8 Women is a film well worth renting and viewing, if you are an ardent Francophile then purchasing might be an option as well.

Hobo Stops Begging, Demands Change: Hobo With A Shotgun (2011)

Since the emergence of Tod Browning's 1932 film Freaks, a large group of directors have made it a goal of theirs to great the grotesque in moving imagery and continually push the boundaries on the unfilmable.  While much of this push towards more controversial filmmaking is spearheaded by autuer leaders like Takishi Miike, Lars Von Trier and Harmony Korine, independent cinema continues to provide its own slew of hyper-violent, bizarre and extremely watchable films. Jason Eisenger's recent offering of Hobo With A Shotgun is certainly no exception to this and is only made all the more entertaining by the always welcome presence of Rutger Hauer.  Hobo With A Shotgun is not a particularly profound movie and is far too on the nose to be a poignant social critique, but what a film like this does is allow for serious discussions on post-apocalyptic fears to become popular.  Like many zombie films, Eisenger's work really does beg the question of the values of morals when signifier of social order have become irrelevant.  The film is certainly exaggerated, but is clearly intended as a genre piece, yet if one can get through the seemingly unending stream of red corn syrup and the glossy help of technicolor, Hobo With A Shotgun is a thrill ride that will undoubtedly provide viewers with angst about the slow decay of Western civilization.

I could simply say that the title explains the entire film, because the film is more or less about a hobo ennacting justice with a shotgun.  Yet, there is a much larger plot that is well worth discussing.  The film begins with an unnamed hobo (Rutger Hauer) riding into a town on the rails of a train.  The town, once called Hope Town, is the center for all things depraved.  The hobo is aghast by the pure amounts of degradation occurring in the city, whether it be a filmmaker using his wealth to exploit the poor into demeaning themselves on film or the countless acts of rebellion enacted in the name of nothing.  The state of the town seems to be tied directly to the unchecked power of the wealthy Drake (Brian Downey) who along with this two sons Ivan (Nick Bateman) and Slick (Gregory Smith), act in a violent manner simply because they are without challenge.  While Drake is clearly in power, he outsources his actions to both Ivan and Slick, placing a heavy emphasis on his pride in Ivan.  The hobo has a run in with Slick at an arcade, in which Slick attempts to rape a young prostitute named Abby (Molly Dunsworth).  Enraged the hobo knocks over Slick and saves the girl completely ignorant to the status and power of Slick.  Grateful for the help Abby befriends the hobo, and with her help he is able to purchase a shotgun that provides him with power to counter the corrupt city.  The hobo is surprisingly successful in his actions making a name for himself as a super hero of sorts, while cleaning the city of scum.  Drake and his sons, however, loathe the actions of the hobo and make it a point to turn the city against him.   The hobo, despite overwhelming odds, confronts Drake and his cohorts known as The Plague in one final showdown, and when it appears as though he is to die, he is aided by Abby.  The hobo is given an opportunity to kill Drake only to be stopped at gunpoint by a group of police officers, who have to this point in the film been rather non-existent.  Realizing his death is inevitable he shoots Drake in the head, only to die in a storm of police gunfire.  The film then closes with Abby being invited to join The Plague as she is the only person to have successfully survived their onslaught.  The town is still in despair, but it appears as though the cleansing of the streets from the hands of Drake can assure some sort of decency in the future.

Hobo With A Shotgun mirrors a film like The Toxic Avenger rather nicely, in that it deals with a serious social problem in a very ridiculous way and makes no qualms about beating viewers over the head with its message.  The message is simple, those with power can exploit those without, and unless the powerless can unify together, the powerful will continue to rule with oppressive force.  Drake can control the city simply because he has the money, and those who are not easily persuaded by money can succumb to drugs.  This is clear when Slick uses cocaine to overpower a rival kid of relative wealth, causing the young man to become addicted and subsequently dependent on Slick as a source.  It also notes the problems of abject poverty and how nearly impossible it is to climb out of such a state.  The hobo simply desires to purchase a used lawnmower to begin his own business and survive.  Right as he is in the process of doing so he becomes stuck in the middle of a robbery which leads him to come into possession of a shotgun to stop the robber in his tracks.  Such a scene, amidst its violent nature, suggests that those in terrible situations often attempt to extradite themselves; however, those around them invariably influence them in negative ways.  Finally, the film posits the illogical nature of single person sacrifice.  The hobo tries desperately to avenge those who were degraded within Scum Town, but he never makes it clear that he is doing so for the entirity of humanity, in fact, in the epic scene in which he talks to a nursery full of babies, he makes it clear that the world will never change and that one must simply accept their task with a positive outlook, even if it means being a hobo who happens to wield a shotgun.  Though not sacrificial, it is clear that the hobo's death was not in vain, for he allowed other to realize that change is possible, but must be done so on a unified scale, for one man cannot perform the work of many.

Hobo With A Shotgun is a fun bit of film and a great piece of cinema to come from Canada.  It is exploitation filmmaking at its finest and well worth watching.  At the moment, it is on Netflix Watch Instantly and a quick flick that clocks in just under an hour and a half.

Death Is But A Moment, Cowardice Is A Lifetime Afflcition: The Trip (2010)

The Trip is one of those rare occasions in which the film's poster completely counters what the film ends up being.  In the image on the advertisements, we are provided with an image of Steve Coogan looking distressed as Rob Brydon laughs unabashedly.  With this picture it is easy to assume that the film is to be an uproarious comedy that will deliver constant laughs and little in the way of profound character study.  The Trip, however, is not a normal comedy, but a very sobering look at one mans attempt to deal with his fading into obscurity and increasingly distancing behavior to the world around him.  At first this discovery bothered me given that I wanted to laugh and enjoy myself, yet despite its incredibly dark undertones the movie was quite hilarious and incredibly profound.  It is an excellent independent film, which has just enough of a spark to flow for two hours and while the film relies heavily on the same set of jokes it manages to remain consistently funny and endearingly honest.  It is traditional in its film style and linear narrative, but beyond that it is something quite unique and watchable.  The Trip is a reminder that English film is still alive and while their comedy is certainly not the popular American style it is hilarious in its own right.

The Trip follows Steve Coogan, playing a slightly more pretentious version of himself, as he agrees to take up a job as a food critic for a national newspaper with the hopes of re-winning the heart of his American girlfriend Mischa (Margo Stilley).  It is apparent, however, that Steve also desires to advance himself out of a failed attempt to rehash his fading comedy career.  Mischa, distancing herself from Steve, decides not to partake in the trip with him leading him to invite his old friend Rob Brydon, played by himself in a much more ignorant manner.  The two then take it upon themselves to travel across London eating at various restaurants and attempting to rekindle their clearly broken relationship.  Instead of simply discussing their lives and activities the two attempt to outdo each others' comedic form, leaning heavily on impersonations, particularly that of Michael Caine.  Their argument over who provides a better impersonation of the aging actor becomes a center for the two's attempts to outshine each other in regards to their careers.  Rob is clearly more successful than Steve, given his popularity on a popular British sketch comedy show, while Steve is known for his work in independent films.  Furthermore, Rob has become a family man, content with having a wife and child, while Steve continues to sleep with different women every night and fails to earn legitimate work at any point during film.  The two continue to travel together, despite a clearly growing resentment on the part of Steve, who finds Rob's continual use of impressions and puns irritating.  After confrontations and Rob's eventual realization that he is a point of envy for Steve, the two resolve their issues and depart humbly, but without great fondness for one another.  Rob returns to his happy family life and clearly finds it rewarding, while Steve is shown alone in his apartment drinking and slouching in despair.  The two have changed in no form from their trip, except for having eaten foie gras crackers.

The Trip is a film about studying the values of human desires, particularly finding a happy medium between qualitative and quantitative desires.  Steve desperately wants his life to take a financial boost, particularly his global career as a comedian.  He desires this far more than he does ensuring a relationship with his girlfriend, or anybody else around him for that matter.  Throughout the film, Steve struggles with constant nightmares about people hating him or encountering far more successful actors and awaking to realize that these fears and desires are actually not occurring.  Even after ridiculing Rob for one of his characters on his sketch show, Steve is shown fighting off tears in a hotel mirror as he fails to recreate the popular character.  It is clear that he is at one point willing to sell out in order to gain global recognition.  This occurs when he is offered a spot as a villain on a television series in the United States.  On the other hand, Rob simply desires to please the people around him, mostly by making them laugh at groan-worthy jokes.  He is clearly elated with his wife and child and the money he makes seems secondary.  Rob's desires for quality allow him to gain quantifiable rewards, at one point he admits that he was surprised by his success, particularly given that it is rooted in a rather idiotic character.  Steve by the end of the film realizes that Rob's success is not to be envied given that he earned it earnestly and without corruption.  Steve appears as though he will change his life and approach things from Rob's perspective, however, the film closes before he can do so and as such we as viewers are uncertain that Steve will indeed change.

The Trip is a solid piece of film that is incredibly viewable.  However, it is not worth owning so a rental will do just fine.