It feels almost fruitless to examine "47 Meters Down" with any severity or critical eye since it's obviously not a movie that was made with any regard to "art". This is a cheap blockbuster, hearkening back to the original summer hit "Jaws" but without the budget or any real compelling characters or story. Really, the only thing is has in common with "Jaws" is that both films were made on Earth.
Lisa and Kate (Mandy Moore and Claire Holt) are sisters taking a vacation in Mexico. The film drops us in on their first few nights where they lounge by the beach, check out guys, and cry over Lisa's ex. That's why they're in Mexico, as is explained by Lisa in the first five minutes by firelight as she cries. It's because Stuart (the ex) said she was boring and left her. So she decided to call her adventure-ready sister and off they go to Mexico.
This new revelation of Lisa's love life is exactly the juicy bit of emotional blackmail that Kate needs to hold over her head to make her do things out of her comfort zone for the sake of social media ("think of how the pictures will look" she often says to Lisa). This is how they end up going out at night and meeting two men who offer to take them out to cage dive with great white sharks. Of course, it's a little off the books and slightly illegal; but Kate is gung-ho about the prospect and drags Lisa along. So they pop onto a boat and not even twenty minutes into the film, we have the set up firmly in place.
Naturally, things start going wrong. They're chumming the water, Lisa starts freaking out (though you couldn't tell from Mandy Moore's acting), and the men seem to be a little too eager to get the ladies into the ocean. But Lisa is determined to get a better Instagram profile, so she gets in the cage and they go down a few meters and then *duh* the cable breaks and they go to the bottom which is, you guessed it, 47 meters down.
The movie would like to pat itself on the back here for making an "Alien" like answer to the haunted house paradox. If you are in an old house with ghosts you can always just walk out; but if you're in space in the sea trapped in a cage almost 50 meters down, you can't just walk out. Separating the girls from the surface are the sharks, as billed on the posted "the world's greatest predator". In reality, the cleverness of the film is non-existent. This is a poorly budgeted Shark Week special. Anyone could create this problem, but it takes someone smarter to make it interesting.
There are glimpses of intelligence in the film, notably the determination to make some characters bilingual and use Spanish as much as possible. You'll get more jokes if you're more familiar with the language. This is perhaps the only good thing the movie has going for it, that and the beauty of the ocean and beach that doesn't last long as our heroines plunge beneath the surface.
One thing remains: get to the surface in one piece. Naturally, Lisa freaks out and here we see that Mandy Moore is just a terrible actress. Her crying and emotional scenes regrettably sound like something more out of an adult film than a wide release thriller. She is annoying as a lead and clearly the largest problem with the film.
With over an hour left in the movie and only way to go but up, somehow the film's writers manage to sink it even further. Directed and co-written by Johannes Roberts, a name of no current consequence in the film world, "47 Meters Down" attempts to stretch the running time. But it shatters quickly and the result is a messy finale.
"47 Meters Down" once again gives sharks the unfortunate rap of being killing machines that just want to eat people. While I might want them to make an exception for Lisa and Kate, they really don't deserve this movie against them.
The film is a mess; but sometimes that's exactly what you need. I laughed my way through it in an empty theater with one of my friends. It was grand; but know what you're getting yourself into. "47 Meters Down" implies depth; but the film is only surface level.
This review contains SPOILERS!
To be in crime, we are told by hardened, trigger-happy robber Bats near the beginning of "Baby Driver", demands one be, in some part, a criminal.
"Baby Driver" is a movie about characters and choreography. It's a film composed around music, dedicated to rhythm, and centered around driving. The entire movie allows the audience to be a passenger of Edgar Wright's mammoth vehicle, whose calculated course is both unexpectedly deep and sensationally entertaining. Though "Baby Driver" features many set pieces and sequences that are spectacular and intense, its true strengths lie in its writing and its people.
Baby (Ansel Elgort) is the driver. He works for a crime boss named Doc (Kevin Spacey) who sets up heists and robberies with small teams of notable criminals. Each job gets a new group of faces...except for Baby. He's always the driver. The lucky charm of the operation. With each new iteration the hardened criminals size him up and question him and his antics. The sunglasses, the silence, the earbuds. Each of these have their reasons and for each explanation the audience is given the ambient noise of the film is fleshed out even more. This is a film deeply committed to its sound, its rhythm, and its heart.
I know it sounds cliche. But a movie without a little dollop of sentimentality is a cold magic show, something akin to "Birdman". Yet with its heart,"Baby Driver" proves that it is much more than a flashy puzzle box or a movie built around its chase sequences.
Baby wants out. He's been working off a debt to Doc for a long time; but his time is coming to an end. He is told that after one last job, he will be done. This is perfect for him because he meets a lovely waitress at a local diner named Debora (Lily James). She's quirky and confident and the two make an immediate connection over their love of music.
A few cold characters stand in the way. One of them is Bats (Jaime Foxx). This is a man obsessed with the idea of himself. He is flashy in a way that is both dangerous and annoying. He says exactly what he thinks, or what he thinks the toughest version of himself would say. But he does not lack the muscle to back up his threats. He is one of the many that is skeptical of Baby's ability, which is shown first to the audience in the opening scene.
These chase sequences are more dances than elaborate "Bourne" moments. These are orchestrated chaos and impeccably precise. Every crash, gunshot, and siren is on beat. Baby's encompassing songs fill not only the audience's ears, but every facet of the film itself.
For a movie so impossible to separate from its rhythm and sound, it catches the audience by surprise to see a deaf man, Baby's foster father (CJ Jones), so close to the center of the movie. It's unexpected writing and it exemplifies what makes Edgar Wright such a powerful director. Because, after the movie is finished, it makes perfect sense and the idea of removing such a character would leave "Baby Driver" incomplete.
"Baby Driver" is filled with near perfect performances. Jaime Foxx is wily and dangerous. Kevin Spacey is cool and commanding. A most surprising Jon Hamm delivers an incredible performance and Lily James is charming and likable. The movie, as it should, belongs to Ansel Elgort as Baby. He's the perfect choice for the role and leaves behind all his teenage heartthrob cliches from "The Fault in Our Stars". This is the emergence of a "credible" artist, at least in the critical sphere.
Edgar Wright owes a lot to Martin Scorsese and pays homage to many of the director's trademark surprises and more importantly, his soundtracks. Even the name "Baby Driver" seems too similar to "Taxi Driver" to ignore; yet if anything "Baby Driver" is Wright's answer to "Drive". Nicolas Winding Refn's film touches on the same subject matter in some of the same ways (notably the idea of crime and the criminal as delivered by Bats) yet here Wright is far more clever and far more controlled on his approach.
Previously Edgar Wright was only known for comedies; but here he shows that he is one of the directors to watch. "Baby Driver" is brilliantly crafted, nuanced, and just a hell of a good movie. You should watch this on the big screen.
This review contains SPOILERS!
I was a child of the 90s, was not raised on comic books, and have no extensive knowledge of the universes either Marvel or DC that are ever expanding into fully realized film franchises. I have no comparisons to earlier iterations of Wonder Woman as a character and cannot say whether the 2017 reboot of the hero does the character any justice whatsoever. This is perhaps regrettable considering all the potential for nuances and sly jokes to fans; but my view will be more of a casual viewer.
"Wonder Woman" had a lot riding on its shoulders even before its release. For such a large character in the DC universe, it seemed like a film everyone wasn't willing to make. But DC was behind. They are trying to catch up to Marvel's reign of summer flicks and super hero movies. But instead of "The Avengers" we got "Suicide Squad" and Netflix didn't back DC, so instead we have "Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice". In short, DC was falling way behind. So, in order to get the Justice League in shape, we needed a movie about Wonder Woman.
This is one of very few movies with a lead female as the superhero. The last notable major motion picture endeavors were "Elektra" and "Cat Woman" and those were both well over a decade ago. So "Wonder Woman" was already under scrutiny for the survival of the female lead...and it does not disappoint.
Patty Jenkins hasn't done a lot in her career that has impressed me. I didn't care for "Monster", her only other major motion picture and then few episodes she has directed of TV shows didn't leave a large enough impression to remain memorable. Yet, with "Wonder Woman", it's clear that she isn't an immature director and that mass appeal movies aren't a boy's club only.
Diana (Gal Gadot) is one of the Amazons. They were created by Zeus and remain that last vestige of warriors that can defend the Earth and humanity should Aries, the god of war, reemerge and threaten the planet again. This much is told to Diana from a young age; and she spends most of her early days learning to fight with the rest of the Amazons, even against the will of her mother, Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen), queen of the Amazons. Under the tutelage of Antiope (Robin Wright), she becomes a strong warrior.
But she cannot stay in her hidden kingdom forever.
World War I rages outside the Amazon's hidden island until one man accidentally flies right through the fog and crashes into the ocean. His name is Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) and he explains the predicament of humanity to the Amazons: the world is being destroyed.
Diana is set apart from other super heroes because she doesn't seem to draw her motivation or inspiration from the death of a parent or the need to be masculine and full of angst. Instead, she is driven by empathy. Her goal appears to be to eliminate the suffering of innocent people and many think of her as naive to do so; yet the movie challenges the callousness of the viewer and asks the audience to maybe reconsider the idea of what honor, justice, and empathy should look like. Honor, is not fighting for a war, honor is stopping a war so that innocents can stop suffering. The distinction is small. She helps others because she wants to, not because she feels like it's her duty.
The Germans once again feature as the villains, which is unsurprising and also a reminder of the patriotic history of early comic books. They are cooking up gasses ans potions that will kill thousands. With this power they could level cities in seconds and it reminds us in the 21st century, that not much has changed. Diana and Steve set out to destroy this super weapon before it's too late (and also try to find Aries along the way). They are accompanied by a slew of minor characters who don't have enough screen time to feel genuine; but are nonetheless very enjoyable.
The action sequences of "Wonder Woman" are well executed and exciting. Sometimes, they rely too heavily on the Zack Snyder method (who happened to get writing credit for the story) but as a whole the movie keeps them far enough apart and just epic enough to satiate all the desires for action an audience could have.
For me, the beginning of the film is weak and unnecessarily long; but once the story moves along, the film picks up speed and charges to the final scene. Some of the script tries to be funny and doesn't always succeed; but the humanity it gives to Diana is empowering for all.
"Wonder Woman" is a celebration of the female lead, the female director, and the hero as a loveable altruist. And on all three counts, I think it succeeds.
"Diner" attempts to provide of snapshot of the last moments of the 1950s within a certain circle of male friends. These guys were presumably close in highschool and now that they've move on to bigger things they find themselves unsure of the future, whether that's marriage, college, or traveling. Although not put together they always manage to have the resources to go to the local diner and have conversations about music, lovers, and sex.
Barry Levinson's directorial debut is the kind of movie that some might deem 'honest'. It presents several situations that many would find reflective of ordinary life. This is probably accurate, but the movie hasn't aged well and so as minor conversations and small wagers turn into larger narrative arcs, the "honesty" of the picture just consists of people being assholes and a timely soundtrack.
"Diner" owes a lot to Scorsese, particularly in how the movie sounds. The actors all speak in a very laid-back, important fashion about presumably nothing. And in "Seinfeld" fashion, this may be a movie about nothing...which is the point.
"Diner" thrives in the moments thought to be unworthy of film. This is a participation in what indie movies are doing. The more common narrative, by default, assumes that the movie will be exciting and noteworthy simply because of the nature of escapism. No one wants to watch a real time movie of a man filing taxes for three hours, drinking a cup of coffee, and taking a nap. In my mind, "Diner" tries for the moments that are between car chases and robberies, focusing on a group of pre-millennial millennials who are anxious about life, love, sex, women, and money...but most of all being men.
It's the holiday season in the twilight hours of the 1950s and five guy friends like to eat at a diner. If I was being cynical, that's the end of the movie. But we're supposed to push through and press on into the characters, finding them oddly charming and lovably ignorant. Which, for the first half of the movie, they are.
We see them roughhouse and argue about singers and drive around and eat and talk about girls and through their conversation the larger narrative arises: one of the guys is getting married soon and his betrothed has to answer a football quiz in order for them to get married.
Hilarious, right? Well, not exactly in a physical comedy sort of way and as the domestic abuse starts to emerge it becomes less pleasant and maybe more an attempt to mirror everyday life.
Money issues, the mob, women (who are so complicated, right?), music, etc—the movie juggles a lot of issues and a lot of minor arcs as friends come back into town, pregnancies happen, and the wedding gets even closer.
To me, "Diner" is a good movie and something I never want to touch again. Not because it's bad or harmful, I think it accurately represents an 80s mindset concerning the 60s. The reason I never want to see it again is twofold: 1.) it's really not that exciting and 2.) these characters aren't redeemable to me. Sure, it's the 80s so a little misogyny is expected; but "Diner's" treatment of female characters, particularly the Ellen Barkin figure, doesn't inspire warm fuzzy feelings inside me. The chivalry present is supposed to be when, upon manipulating a girl on the brink of a nervous breakdown, the truth emerges that this was all for a bet and everyone gets forgiven.
Maybe I'm too altruistic, or maybe I'm too critical—both are possible.
"Diner" is a good in the way "The Ice Storm" is a good movie. Both fantasize about the everyday life of suburbia, but "Diner" fails to make it compelling.
This review contains SPOILERS!
One of the monoliths of science fiction movies, "The Day the Earth Stood Still" is keenly invested in the time period and nationalistic crises of a post-WWII America. In the opening credits, we see the western hemisphere as we travel with the protagonist "invaders" as the camera plummets towards Earth and immediately we see the nervous and perhaps violent way that Americans (or perhaps humanity at large) treats the unknown. We are hyper-aware of the time period, not only because the central drive of the movie is warning others that atomic energy is a power that could be too great to contain; but also because the radio dominates people's consumption of the news and the general bleakness of a post-war film.
Klaatu (Michael Rennie) is a humanoid alien whose physiology is no different than our own. He has landed with an eight-foot tall metal robot named Gort and he claims to have an urgent message for the people of the world. By sheer coincidence, or for the sake of ease of the story, his ship lands in the middle of the mall in Washington, D.C. You can see the fear of the people around him when he first emerges from the spaceship, offering up a gift which is misinterpreted as a weapon and he is shot through the shoulder and ends up in a hospital.
Escaping custody, he meanders around the streets trying to get a better sense of these earthlings and rents a room where he meets Helen Benson (Patricia Neal) and her son Bobby (Billy Gray). He introduces himself as Mr. Carpenter (a name he found on the inside of the jacket he was wearing) and lodges with the Bensons and a few other quirky characters who nicely sum up the political climate of the day.
But all this time, we are waiting to hear his message, which is teased and dangled in front of the viewer until the very last scene of the movie when Klaatu stands in front of the camera and speaks to the audience, warning against violence and most of all, against atomic warfare.
This warning does not necessarily mean that humanity will, of its own free nature, become more moral, because it's clear that Klaatu and his people do not care what humans do to other humans. The warning is mostly that, should their warfare stray to interstellar territories, there will be no hesitation to wipe Earth out.
For someone watching over half a century later, this sentiment loses some of its charm. "Be good to us or we'll kill you!" But still, it's nice to see a film aware of these issues even if it is under the umbrella of its own nationalistic identity. We can see this when Bobby takes Klaatu to the cemetery to look at the gravestone of Bobby's dad, who died in the war. Then they stop at the Lincoln Memorial where Klaatu panders to the target audience and comments on what a great individual this person was. While perhaps justified, looking upon the Gettysburg address, Klaatu and Bobby quickly go back to the less patriotic story-line which concerns only the alien and his doings.
"The Day the Earth Stood Still" is maybe deceptively simple with a very clear message and a very easy narrative; but the words are the most important part. Another key factor to consider when watching the movie is that the only "major" award that it won was at the Golden Globes where it took home the prize for "Best Film Promoting International Understanding" a category that has been retired for over fifty years now. The international understanding of the film is less about the empathy of victims who had survived the atomic bomb and more about self-preservation when you view the film in a callous light.
A more optimistic approach would perhaps deify this "Carpenter" and his words of wisdom and teach the viewer that this is the only life we have to live, so why not minimize human suffering along the way? And for that, it's hard to critique the film.
There is an obvious reason for the remake of "Beauty and the Beast" which is far less idealistic than the sum of its parts: money. Of course, this is the most cynical way of approaching the movie, which is probably not the right mindset to frame the film by; but given its predecessors' place in cinematic history, Disney's newest remake feels a bit tired in comparison and almost devoid of magic.
Naturally, the newest iteration of "Beauty and the Beast" should probably be viewed in its own light; but I think it wasn't meant to be seen this way. Sometimes it's line-for-line with the original and sometimes slight changes make the viewer pause. Without these references, we wouldn't be seeing the small baby steps that make the film more current. You can see this when certain parts of the backstory fill in: the prince of the land is made to be a selfish man who taxes his kingdom cruelly so he can buy himself beautiful things. This material obsession which begins the narration as some of the first words spoken in the movie, is quickly forgotten for a broader selfishness and anger that the prince must overcome to break the curse placed upon him. But then the films fades back into the original Disney and these "complexities" get forgotten.
And so we open to Belle (Emma Watson), the daughter of an artist and herself an inventor of sorts. She lives in France with an English accent and doesn't care about what people think of her and she's certainly not going to marry Gaston (Luke Evans). He has just returned from war and has his sight set on Belle and plans on wedding Belle so that he can have the perfect life. A narcissist at best, Gaston is obviously the wrong person for Belle and so the story begins.
There's nothing in the new "Beauty and the Beast" that is remarkable in any fashion. Jean Cocteau's original film had to wait almost fifty years to be remade and in that remaking, it felt justified. The technology that Cocteau had in 1946 was not enough to capture the magic and wonder of the story which Disney managed to grab the first time around. Animation itself is the genre that lends itself to this story better. Because of simple narrative barriers, most of the characters in the film have to be animated in some fashion anyways and because of this, we are left with a lackluster "realistic" approach that somehow feels as some of the characters complain: rusty, overused, and slowly growing stiff.
But maybe asking "why" the remade was produced in the first place is an unfair question. When you look at the movie as a whole, it obviously draws mostly from Disney's 1991 with a few plot points borrowed from Cocteau's original film. And in this we see that the movie is less of a remake of more of a "threemake" if you will. Both of its ancestors are pioneer films in the canon of cinephiles. The Disney classic was the film animated movie to be nominated best picture and could be considered partly responsible for placing animation on the map as credible cinema.
In that light, "Beauty and the Beast" is just lackluster.
The film's lead, Emma Watson is charming but reminds us that not everyone can fills the shoes of Paige O'Hara's voice. In fact, this is true of the whole cast who have to physically and vocally challenge the icons that most of us grew up hearing. Watson is shaky, but cute. She doesn't really bring anything new to the role besides how the script deviates. Luke Evans is, likewise, very true to the 2D Gaston, except perhaps a little more overt with his inner flaws. Josh Gad plays Lefou which is perhaps the biggest contentious issue of the movie since he is gay and the marketing has exploded about this fact. While it doesn't bother me to include this, it doesn't really fit in the movie and seems kind of pandering...but that's a very personal opinion.
The real difference between the two films comes when Emma Thompson covers the title song and fails to hold a candle to Angela Lansbury; but besides that, the 2017 film feels like clunky recycled material. This is unlike "The Jungle Book" which told an entirely different story and reinvented the narrative itself. Clearly, Disney wanted to keep the magic alive for one of its most recognized films.
And sometimes, just sometimes, it's easy to get lost in the grandeur of the movie. When the music swells and the songs bring back waves of nostalgia, the spectacle is almost too much. But I was reminded that Ewan McGregor is no Jerry Orbach and soon I felt like all the characters and numbers I was watching were shadows of the originals.
Yet, all that is too critical perhaps, because the movie isn't that bad. It's a decent film, and it has decent acting. The biggest criticism of the film as a stand alone is that the set design looks oddly fake and constructed. Some of the animation is too quickly thrown together; but all-in-all, it's not a terrible film.
When placed back into conversation with its counterparts, I find it wholly inconsequential and almost uninspiring for the lack of effort they put into making something more potent out of a story that is at once troubling and romantic. The nuances are lost.
I don't think there's a universal and easy way to digest what happens in "Black Narcissus". It's not a film that lends itself easily to scrutiny or dissection; yet whose plot is so frustratingly simple it's almost like the film is teasing. My own personal like of directors Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger keeps me from seeing the film as it probably is. Is is anti-Catholic? Is it misogynistic? Is it racist? Probably yes, to all three; and yet so aware of what women, religion, and race are accomplishing in the picture that I can't help but think that it's not the case at all.
"Black Narcissus" is about a nunnery in India. Sister Clodagh (Deborah Kerr) has just been made Sister Superior of the newly founded St. Faith convent. Having been serving in Calcutta, Sister Clodagh moves past Darjeeling to the new St. Faith which balances on the edge of a mountain. The villagers at the bottom are under the command of a general who also owns the bit of land the new convent will be on. There is not understating the clash of culture and religion that happens at this moment. The building that becomes St. Faith was previously a harem for the old general's women. There's one woman left over (to use a more objectifying phrase) from the old general's rule and she tells the nuns that the house used to be called the "house of women". Sister Clodagh rolls her eyes at the old woman but we get the understanding that it has become that again, just with a stricter set of rules.
The convent is chilly and barren. Winds constantly blows through and the atmosphere is clean and clear. No crops seem to grow and the resident sage-figure sits next to the convent only a few hundred yards away. This is the difference in religions and cultures. Some of the old statutes from the harem are simply covered up with silk clothes which then get pulled off as the movie unravels and we begin to understand that there's something else going on here.
Mr. Dean (David Farrar) warns Sister Clodagh that this might be more than she can handle. The Sister is eager to prove her worth and isn't scared of hard work so doesn't take much of his advice. Mr. Dean lives in the village and serves as a liaison between the general and English speaking people like the nuns.
St. Faith is immediately overrun with too many people and Sister Clodagh struggles to keep her head up, particularly when she's dealing with unruly cohorts, specifically Sister Ruth (Kathleen Byron) who seems to be becoming enamored with Mr. Dean even though she never talks to him at great length.
The general's son (Sabu), joins the list of pupils. He wants to be a learned man, straying from the warrior path his ancestors have set down before him. It is this character, who is only present on-screen for fifteen minutes or less that gives the film its title. Black Narcissus is a perfume that he wear and he explains to one of the nuns that he should not be so common as to smell like himself.
And that's in a nutshell what makes the movie so infuriatingly complex. This small smell seems to set into motion the plot that will culminate in a frenzied experience that rivals any hysteria produced in modern films. But the audience is kept out of the loop. We cannot smell this, just as we cannot experience the winds blowing through St. Faith. This air, the sisters constantly comment, is eerie and reminds them of their previous lives. Flashbacks of life before the Catholic church start to roll in and it becomes a battle between will of faith and giving in to 'temptation'.
It is unclear at the movie's ending whether or not the changes in the characters is specifically motivated by the strains of native and imposed culture/religion or whether the group of females themselves are the reason because of their tendency to be hysterical.
Whatever the answer, it's no surprise that Jack Cardiff won the Academy Award for cinemtography for "Black Narcissus" because, like his other collaborations with Pressburger and Powell, the film looks frightfully good. It is also no surprise that "Black Narcissus" didn't receive more acclaim at the time. After all, this is a movie which seems to have no reverence for religion and thus, it must be shunned.
What I'm left with afterwards is the chilling wind of St. Faith, and all these striking images floating around in my head. I don't know what to make of "Black Narcissus" and I know I don't have any definitive idea of what exactly Pressburger and Powell were trying to accomplish but I do know they made a hell of a film.