tinybirds

Not as much a review as an overarching question: doesn't this film seem to be an extension of the same sort of thing it criticizes? Amy is just as much a spectacle here as at any other point in her fame, which the documentary indicates was the major factor in her addiction and death. Sure, we feel like we know her after watching, but that's just the thing - we still don't and never will. The poor girl should've been left the heck alone and taken care of by the people who actually knew and loved here. And here we are continuing to try to access and ingest her celebrity even after she's been destroyed by it. I felt dirty after watching it, like part of a paparazzi mob or a skeezy, maladjusted public who viciously chews up and spits out the celebrities it bizarrely worships. Yes, the documentary itself was reasonably well done - I liked the use of her own lyrics to sort of narrate the film, that was clever - but in truth it was too long and often unnecessarily boring. Staring at her for long periods of time may incite some attachment that wasn't there before, but again, what are you really utilizing here (our desire to get close to celebrity) that isn't also something you're pretty openly denouncing at the same time? Let's be real, you made a film that's grossed many millions by using her tragic story in much the same way everyone else you're criticizing used her in life.

Jason Schwartzman is one of those actors whose films you generally either love or maybe kind of hate. 7 Chinese Brothers (2015) is a film that is definitely no exception, but for those of us who are fans, it hits the mark head on. The film is a character study of Larry, a 30- something slacker and all around aimless weirdo ambling through his days trying to keep himself amused. The brainchild of director Bob Byington, this strange character loses his job at a restaurant after being caught stealing booze from the bar into his big gulp, only to find himself at war with the restaurant manager in an absurd ongoing battle that amusingly recurs throughout the film. Larry spends the bulk of his time discussing life with his lethargic boston terrier Arrow, Schwartzman's real-life dog and real-deal star of the show. Arrow is hilariously nonplussed and adorably immortalized in this film - his sedate screen presence as well as the evident bond between him and his owner contributes immeasurably to the tone of the film and the character, as well as its overall charm.

This film is low on actual plot lines, but there are a number of other characters with whom Larry interacts during his day to day. His best friend Major, played by TV On The Radio frontman Babatunde Adebimpe, helps to ground the antics of our main character, but his lucky life also serves to make stark the unlucky fortune of the far more everyday and unremarkable Larry. Olympia Dukakis is flawless as Larry's grandmother and voice of reason, with whom his self-concerned attitude makes itself evident early in the film. So while little of note actually happens throughout the film, we have ample opportunity to explore the recesses of this odd character's mind as well as watch his gradual arch towards some personal growth. The film's camera-work is primarily that shaky, hand-held feel that's currently relentlessly popular in this style of film. Byington really makes viewers feel as though they're following Larry around and watching him mess up, be erratic, and embarrass himself real-time. The camera is right in Schwartzman's face through the majority of the film so his acting had to be spot on to carry this film, and he succeeds in being both comically on-point and pointedly Larry at all times. The character never slips once while the audience eats up all of his bizarre habits, like imitating a fat kid getting out of a pool on every possible countertop, as only Schwartzman delivers this signature kind of absurdity with his particular sort of grace.

7 Chinese Brothers is strange, it's meandering, and it's even a little bit boring at times. It is possible that critics of Schwartzman could suggest that this sort of character exploration is just another means to show off and glorify that thing that he does, that quirky indie, alternative film thing for which Jason Schwartzman is sort of the posterboy. While we sat in the theater and the film came to a close, my partner even turned to me and just said "I don't get it, what is this movie about?" And that's the thing, it's not really about anything in particular. There's no genius, deep message in this storyline; while there's an element of wanting to connect and find a sort of joie de vivre here, these themes are dominated by just the sheer wandering into the character that dominates the screen time. Yet its richness can be found in the experience of watching an artist create a character that audiences simply want to watch. These are the sorts of ideas from which cult films spring, where there's just something that hooks you and reels you in about the world created by those involved in its production. This is what Jason Schwartzman is really good at and here Bob Byington has successfully crafted a memorable space that allowed him to do his thing delightfully. 7 Chinese Brothers is just right for those that found themselves psyched just on seeing its advertisement, and you know who you are. If you aren't one of those people, maybe you could just go to see Arrow in all his drowsy glory.

Charmingly every-day and cynically sweet, James Strouse's People, Places, Things (2015) is a playful illustration of the struggles of heartsick, 40-something nice-guys. We all know them: divorced and a bit adrift with a couple of kids, trying to understand the gap between where their life is and where they imagined it would be. This film is absolutely for the faint of heart; lightweight and quippy, it keeps a pretty steady comedic roll and is definitely not lacking in its share of flimsy sitcom-style tropes. Cutesy jokes about grown men being unable to dress well and efficiently care for themselves and their kids abound. Idiot students invariably disrupt class and make jokes about masturbation. Crazy wives are crazy. The impeccable comedic execution of main character Will, played by Jemaine Clement, as well as supporting cast members Stephanie Allynne, Regina Hall, and Jessica Williams, definitely elevate this film from just a pleasant and heartwarming flick to a cleverly executed, if light, comedic experience. What this film lacks in profundity, it makes up for in relatability and spirit raising adorableness that has the potential to appeal to a wide audience.

Will is a graphic novelist and professor in New York, who separates from his partner Charlie (Allynne) within the first five minutes of the film after he stumbles upon her alone with another man, and in his t-shirt, upstairs at their twin daughters' birthday party. He then finds himself relegated to a lonely apartment in Astoria, suddenly thrown off course and missing Charlie and his daughters. Seeing his thinly veiled gloom in class, college student Kat (Williams) invites him to her home for dinner with the intention of fixing him up with her mother Diane, a quick witted Columbia University professor played by Hall. A guarded romance ensues while Will struggles over the increasing complexity of his dynamic with Charlie, as well as his new life, fatherhood, and just general inability to pull himself together. Close camera-work connects us intimately to each defeated response and hilariously mumbling reproach Will dishes out to those around him. Comedy strongman Clement flawlessly carries the timing and tone of this amusingly reflective film. The musical score by Mark Orton is gently bright and upbeat, appropriately unobtrusive for its lightweight context. Will's own comics charmingly serve as a secondary source for connectivity with the backstory and not-so-underlying narrative of detached loneliness for a character that had seemingly always desired to be a touch farther removed from those around him that he managed to be - until now.

Will's comics are a good symbol for the film itself - quirky, cute, superficially grazing the human condition and leaving little work to the viewer in decoding Will's underlying emotions. We don't have to think too much - just as when reading a comic the thoughts and sentiment are right there in plain sight. There's not much to be done beyond minding the "gap" between your comic's panels, as Will covers in class, riding close to the line of obviating the weightiest symbolism this film has to offer, while its main man searches for what was missed in the in-between spaces he may not have been giving the necessary attention. Still, the film manages to toe that line effectively, maintaining its romantic comedy air while staying equally rooted in realistic emotions and resolutions.

While Clement played a significant role in helping to elevate this film, for me, his presence also detracted oddly. As pleasant and consistent as this film was, I found myself continually expecting the disarming peculiarity and heart of the directorial influence of Clement's usual partner in film Taika Waititi (What We Do in The Shadows, and Eagle vs. Shark). It's quirky and very personal air seemed to nod to the same stylistic motivations, but failed to deliver that level of uniqueness and sentiment that really makes films like Waititi's sink into your pores and stay there. Yet, much of the charm of People, Places, Things may be found in its ordinariness. A pleasantly accessible film with ample charisma and comedic talent, People, Places, Things is nothing more (or less!) than an effortlessly funny, easy to watch and easy to like crowdpleaser.