by Philip Price Directors: Alex Garland & Ray Mendoza Starring: D'Pharoah Woon-A-Tai, Will Poulter & Cosmo Jarvis Rated: R (intense war violence & bloody/grisly images & language) Runtime: 1 hour & 35 minutes Making a war film inherently means you're making an anti-war film even if that intention was never part of the process. No matter your political persuasion, the reasons for the conflict, or even the dopamine hit certain types of personalities receive from being amidst such situations, one would hope we could agree that the waste of life given in exchange for such rationale is not only unfortunate, but unnecessary. By default, most war films are labeled as propaganda - using seductions of the cinematic language to portray the horrors of combat in an idealized and/or unrealistic fashion - yet writer/director Alex Garland in collaboration with Navy vet Ray Mendoza seek to strip the genre of all such seductions to make audiences both more aware of such stories while also conducting something of an experiment to gauge what conclusions are drawn and what the perceived central idea becomes when taking a more forensic approach to these events as opposed to a more fabricated one. Interestingly, the film informs the audience of said experiment up front, stating that the film is based on the memory of the people who lived it. Though Mendoza serves as co-director as well as receiving a screenwriting credit and is portrayed in the film by D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, “Warfare” is an ensemble piece that is essentially a re-enactment of an encounter this platoon experienced during the Iraq War in the wake of the Battle of Ramadi. The film gives no more context than this, allowing viewers to take whatever they glean from it. While the film very clearly seeks to honor and respect what these men do when risking their lives to execute the whims of their superiors and their superiors’ superiors, in terms of being an exercise in the “less is more” school of filmmaking and crafting what is ultimately a collage of memory pieces it is a fascinating experiment as it is inherently understood that even the most vivid of memories are subjective, that there can be no absolutes in the chaos of such confrontations, and further – that everything that has happened to these individuals since these events has informed their recollections of these moments. What is “Warfare” then if not the indisputable truth it so desperately seeks to be? The ambition is admirable, but whereas the debate over whether Garland and Mendoza accomplished their vision could go on forever, the fact of the matter is they have still made a tightly constructed, viscerally disorienting experience that ironically doesn’t make you think as much as it makes you feel. Despite the seeming question Garland has hung over the film regarding how much substance he can conjure while enlisting as few tricks as possible, it is the appropriation of the feeling of what it was like to be in these situations with these guys at this moment in time that the film elicits most effectively. This is thanks in large part to the incredible sound design (I jumped twice) as well as to the precision of the performances. In what might either be a highly calculated move by casting director Kharmel Cochrane or is otherwise pure kismet, “Warfare” features a who’s who of upcoming male talent where each seem to be on the cusp of either breaking through, cementing themselves or amending the direction of their budding career with this opportunity. Will Poulter, Joseph Quinn, Charles Melton, Michael Gandolfini and Noah Centineo all appear and are each recognizable – Poulter, Quinn, and maybe most notably Melton get a fair amount of scenery to chew among dialogue that is mostly technical in nature whereas standouts like Cosmo Jarvis in the Elliot role and Kit Connor as the rookie of the squad are each able to bring the viewer into their interior dialogue through facial ticks and things like their posture as such aforementioned cinematic seductions that might typically help to bolster or better communicate what is going on internally (like a musical score) are nowhere in sight. It should also be noted Taylor John Smith has a striking screen presence and despite mostly existing on the fringes of the action here, would seemingly be destined for lead roles in the future. This is not an acting showcase for any of these participants though but is instead an exercise in commitment to the bit as the narrative moves from one character to another without any regard for traditional archetypes, Centineo serving in such a small role that it wouldn’t be surprising to hear many didn’t realize it was him in the film. In many ways, the experimental aspects of Garland and Mendoza’s approach could have been exacerbated further by making the fragmented nature of these memories more apparent in the editing. The lack of a score and of any traditional narrative structure to follow help and maybe it comes down to something as simple as studio notes given how much freedom A24 already afforded the creative team but to push the “no style” style it would seem the disorienting nature of such a firefight might have been even more effective than what the final edit conveys. Of course, this brings about the question of whether or not this approach is in fact a valuable way to communicate this type of story in the first place. As someone shaped by war films such as “Jarhead” and “Black Hawk Down” in addition to real-life events that led to a perspective of having a certain amount of skepticism if not outright distrust in the reasons why America would intervene in foreign situations, this “re-enactment” does little to change that mindset. Having watched “Born on the Fourth of July” for the first time last year, Oliver Stone’s film is largely the antithesis of what Garland specifically seems to be chasing here yet seemingly draws many if not all of the same conclusions. Simply acknowledging these events and the men that served feels like enough of a reason to try and capture this experience as truthfully as possible but there will inevitably be questions drawn from this secondhand experience about what purpose beyond acknowledgement does this serve if not to send a message. Whether to honor or exploit, the fact “Warfare” exists as it does and comes from what are two presumably different viewpoints is a testament to that of the methods under which it was made. What audiences see and hear on screen is as integral to the experience as what they don’t; the gaps in these depictions leaving way for the minutia to form ideas and eventually opinions about what war is and what it represents. Does the film ultimately capture as well as prompt what the filmmakers hoped? We’ll likely never know but that the film is as evocative as it is – in both the combat it depicts and the ideas that it spurns – seems enough for both Garland and Mendoza to be justly satisfied in the intent they were chasing.
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by Julian Spivey One of the biggest shocks when watching the American Film Institute’s updated 100 Greatest American Films broadcast in 2007 was the placement of director Martin Scorsese’s “Raging Bull” (1980) at No. 4 on the list. “Raging Bull” had been No. 24 on the original AFI list 10 years prior. It wasn’t the most significant movement on the list – John Ford’s “The Searchers” (1956), a pivotal film in Scorsese’s life, moved from No. 96 to No. 12. “Raging Bull” was the highest-placed film on the AFI 100 list I hadn’t seen before this project of watching the 10 highest-placed films on the list I’d never seen. I’d wanted to see “Raging Bull” for years, but the No. 4 greatest American film ever is such a lofty position that I dreaded watching it. What would it say about me if I didn’t find it deserving? Now that I’ve seen “Raging Bull,” I can admit it’s a great film, but I also believe it’s not the fourth greatest American film ever made (everybody has their own list). It is a terrific character study of a horrible man whom some might find heroic, something it has in common with “The Searchers.” Jake LaMotta (Robert De Niro) is an anti-hero. He’s also a complete loser. He’s not so much a loser in the boxing ring, where he worked hard and fought his way up to being the middleweight champion of the world, but a loser of a man who can’t let his rage and jealousy get out of his way. If you watch “Raging Bull” and come out of it thinking LaMotta is a heroic figure, I believe you’ve watched the film wrong, or it says something disturbing about you. The film is based on LaMotta’s 1970 memoir, Raging Bull: My Story, which tells of his rise and fall in boxing and the rage and jealousy that ran rampant through his life. It didn’t tell of his relationship with his brother, Joey, which was a happy accident of a find by screenwriter Paul Schrader. A sweet spot of Scorsese, De Niro and Schrader is horrible men – perhaps their finest film was “Taxi Driver” four years before this. But the difference between De Niro’s Travis Bickle in “Taxi Driver” and LaMotta in “Raging Bull” is that LaMotta was a real person, and not only that, but a consultant on the film. Amazingly, LaMotta was open enough about his character and life to let this story be told in its brutality. There are three primary figures in “Raging Bull,” LaMotta, Joey (Joe Pesci), and Vickie (Cathy Moriarty), the wife of LaMotta and the primary reason for his jealousies to bubble over, and none of them are likable. However, you ultimately find sympathy for Vickie and maybe even somewhat for Joey through how LaMotta treats them. The performances, particularly by De Niro (who won Best Actor for the role at the Oscars) and Pesci (this being his breakthrough role), are outstanding. You believe them every second of the way as the overly-masculine, Italian brutes they are. Outside of the terrific performances, a highlight of the film is the brutally horrific boxing scenes that were filmed unlike the way you’d see in most boxing films. Instead of filming the bouts from a spectator’s viewpoint from outside of the ring, Scorsese brings the camera right into the scrum, using it as the POV of the fighter doing the punching. This leads to incredibly close-ups of LaMotta and the boxers he’s fighting being hammered and abused by every single hit, with sweat and blood flying everywhere. The brutality of these scenes is supposedly one of the reasons that led Scorsese to film “Raging Bull” in black and white, as the blood spurting may have been too much for audiences had it been filmed in color. It may have also taken away from the beauty of the battle. “Raging Bull” is a powerful study of a bad man. It’s not a fun watch, but it’s a stellar film. by Julian Spivey Directors: Scott McGehee & David Siegel Starring: Naomi Watts, Bill Murray & Bing Rated: R (language) Runtime: 1 hour & 59 minutes “The Friend,” directed by Scott McGehee and David Siegel, is a film about grief and how taxing it can be on humans and our four-legged friends. The film, based on Sigrid Nunez’s 2018 novel, is heavy and not fun to watch. I think folks need to know this because if you watch the trailer or even read some reviews mistakenly referring to the film as a “dramedy,” you’ll be disappointed. Yes, there’s an adorable Great Dane, and that Great Dane helps the story’s lead, Iris, a New York City writer/professor grieving the suicide of her best friend, cope with her grief. She also helps Apollo, the Great Dane (Bing, one of the best dog actors you’ll come across), cope with his grief. But if you’re looking for a cute dog/single woman buddy film, this is much deeper than that. So, “The Friend” isn’t fun. But is it good? Yes. Naomi Watts anchors the film with a beautiful performance as a woman struggling to figure out why her best friend, Walter (Bill Murray), decided to end his life, while also being tasked with editing a compilation of his correspondents, and then having his 150-pound Great Dane thrust upon her, despite her rent controlled apartment not allowing pets and her not being a dog person. “The Friend” features the typical giant dog destroying the apartment when left alone for the day, an aspect of any movie of this ilk. However, we realize it isn’t because Apollo is destructive or bored, but because he’s grieving himself. One of the most touching moments of the film is when he commandeers an old sweater of Walter’s to snuggle, which Iris was keeping to remind her of her friend. The supporting roles in the film are all well-acted with Sarah Pidgeon, Carla Gugino, Constance Wu, Noma Dumezweni and Ann Dowd all showing up from time to time as participants in Iris or Walter’s lives, but this is mostly Watts and Bing’s film, except for a scene toward the end of the movie when Iris imagines a conversation with Walter about why he did what he did and how to affects those left behind that gives Murray a chance to shine. The hardest part of “The Friend” for my wife and me was the end when Iris realized the day would come when she’d have to say goodbye to Apollo, too. My wife and I recently said goodbye to the greatest dog we have ever known, and this scene, though beautiful in its narration by Watts, was almost too emotional for us to get through. “The Friend” will certainly hit an emotional nerve with anyone who’s ever dealt with loss and grief, whether a family member or friend, of the two-legged or four-legged variety. It does so with a reality that is appreciated from a true-life aspect but might be a bit too jarring for anyone currently going through their own bout of grieving. by Philip Price Directors: Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck Starring: Pedro Pascal, Ben Mendelsohn & Jay Ellis Rated: R (strong violence, language, sexual content & drug use) Runtime: 1 hour & 47 minutes Neither Anna Boden nor Ryan Fleck, the writers and directors of “Freaky Tales,” hail from the Oakland area where their latest feature is set but Fleck grew-up in Berkeley and was 11-years-old in 1987 - when the film is set - indicating this is more a passion project for Fleck and something more akin to a challenge or an insight for Boden. Fittingly, the dynamic between the filmmakers - the homecourt advantage for Fleck and visitor status of Boden - is imbued in the final project as “Freaky Tales” fittingly straddles the line between being an underdog tale while understanding domination is the more appealing perception in the real world. Still, when it comes to the stories - or excuse me, tales - the underdogs continue to stand as the more inspiring option, with this line of thought present from Boden and Fleck's latest opening scroll. Narrated by Too $hort with the film itself taking its title from the MC's 1989 track, we're told that Oakland in '87 was "hella wild"; the people, the culture, the music - it didn't matter - the descriptor applied to all. $hort also informs us the reason for everything feeling so fresh likely had something to do with a "bright green glow" that felt akin to electricity in the air but clarifies said glowing green was not the same color as the city's "underdog A's uniforms". What the "bright green glow" might symbolize or represent is of course up to interpretation and will likely vary based on age and relation to the time and place at the heart of the film but broadly, it's meant to be something of a vibe incarnate; an embodiment of the attitude of Oakland at the time that lends each of the characters in each of the featured vignettes the swag necessary to convince us there's something a tad atypical or "freaky" about these tales that are otherwise as old as time. Boden and Fleck split their script into four chapters, each chronicling a different group of people or individuals, mainly on the same night in the dead of summer '87. The first chapter follows a group of teenagers who have integrated themselves into the local punk scene - namely Lucid (Jack Champion) and Tina (Ji-young Yoo) - whose clique at the local music club finds themselves in a war with a gang of skinheads intent on taking over their territory. Presented in a 4:3 aspect ratio with enough grain to make a wheat farmer jealous, the budding relationship between Lucid and Tina doesn't get the attention one would expect or that it requires to develop further, but as a smaller part of a bigger arc this piece of the puzzle has enough support via the eclectic personalities that make-up the club staff, security and entertainment that it captures that essential attitude to both distinguish itself as well as gel with the rest of the ensemble. The second chapter also centers on a duo, but the story doesn't extend to a cause bigger than the characters at the heart of it. Entice (Normani) and Barbie (Dominique Thorne) form a hip-hop group known as Danger Zone, who are presented with an opportunity to collaborate with $hort (played in the film by DeMario Symba Driver) at one of his upcoming shows in a "rap battle" type segment. I could watch an entire Danger Zone film yet unfortunately this second segment only lasts as long as the rest before moving on to Pedro Pascal's hitman named Clint who is on his "one last job" before settling down kick and eventually closing out with "The Legend of Sleepy Floyd" who was a real basketball player in the ‘80s and is portrayed by Jay Ellis of “Top Gun: Maverick” fame. The final two chapters extend into broader movie conventions as they, by default of the structure, are tasked more with creating character arcs and tying each of the chapters or vignettes together, which inherently takes away from the more intimate, slice of life character pieces we get in the first half of the film. This isn't to say Pascal isn't his traditionally charming self or that the period basketball influence doesn't add a cool edge to the proceedings, but the pacing does come to a halt once we hit the third chapter. Interestingly, this third chapter is titled "Born to Mack," which is also the title of Too $hort's 1989 album that features the titular song and the rap battle sequence featuring samples of songs off his other album from 1989, Life is...Too $hort. Interesting because $hort may or may not be entitled to a writing credit (he does serve as an executive producer) as the rapper not only provided his music to Fleck for use in the movie, but shows up in a supporting role, serves as the narrator, and seemingly serves as a significant inspiration to the writer/director in such a large capacity that one might say $hort curated Fleck's memories of these moments from his childhood that allow for Fleck to create in “Freaky Tales” the kind of memory lane exercise to such a precise extent that the collaboration and process of piecing the project together would seem to have become as much an indelible experience as those he is recounting. Though the film is entertaining in its hyper-stylized and elevated aspects of reality I almost wish Boden and Fleck might have explored their underdog themes through the circles one or two of their characters run in here rather than feeling the need to add the supernatural, almost ‘Ghostbusters’-esque tone via the "bright green glow" that made everything then feel different while being used here to make this feel distinct from the wave of ‘80s nostalgia pieces the public has been surfing since the arrival of “Stranger Things.” Emphasizing the music aspect more is what I assume are Boden and Fleck's soundtrack selections. I respect that the filmmakers decided to spend more of their budget on music licensing - hitting us with Metallica, E-40 and Yarbrough & Peoples in the film's climax - rather than re-creating an NBA game and the necessary atmosphere that comes with it, and honestly, I appreciate it. That this is not the sole focus of the film and that the themes do not spill out of the music itself, in addition to the struggles and mentalities of those creating it, is unfortunate, as the plight to make this about individual underdogs who believe they can do the impossible feels strained and...somewhat tacked on. Not that it is an afterthought entirely, but they realized this throughline more after putting together the list of "must-haves" they wanted to include. To this point, a running joke about Tom Hanks selling hot dogs at A's games leads to an admittedly impressive cameo by Hanks himself as the owner of a video store who lectures Pascal's Clint about the top five underdog movies of all time. Hanks is great, as always, but what's most telling is that the bit comes off like one. Added after the fact, Hanks clearly dropped into the production for a few hours, wardrobe didn't have time to do much other than change his clothes, and as a result Hanks feels like a man out of time - not someone who couldn't stop talking about David Lynch in 1987 - a character who doesn't exist in the universe to make it more credible but to make the movie outside the universe as such. Sure, the budget restrictions are sometimes apparent (the ADR in Ben Mendelsohn's first scene is particularly egregious) but it's the dressing up of what Boden and Fleck, but especially Fleck, really wanted to make in an attempt to diversify the genre that ultimately makes the film feel cheaper than the production values do. If you're going to clone it, hone it, but don't disown it. Still, it is unfair to say “Freaky Tales” isn't enjoyable, as it entertains by enticing even if it doesn't necessarily deliver a satisfying climax. I'm happy to have seen the film if, for nothing else, becoming aware of Evelyn Champagne King's "Love Come Down" yet will always wonder what more Oakland's own Marshawn Lynch had to do in the original concept as he shows up here for three seconds only to add more pieces to this puzzle of a movie that doesn't always fit together. by Julian Spivey Hollywood insiders remain flummoxed as Adrien Brody has entered the 31st day of his Oscar acceptance speech for his role in director Brady Corbet’s “The Brutalist.” Brody plays Hungarian brutalist architect Laszlo Toth in the film. It’s his second Academy Award Best Actor win of his career. He also won for 2002’s “The Pianist,” directed by Roman Polanski. Much was made about Brody’s record-long Oscar acceptance speech on the night of the 97th annual Academy Awards when his speech on the ABC telecast ran five minutes and 40 seconds, nearly five whole minutes past the allotted 45 seconds asked of award recipients. The speech broke the Oscars record held by Greer Garson when she won Best Actress for “Mrs. Miniver” in 1943, for which there is no recorded footage. Because the Oscars still had multiple awards to hand out, which wound up going to Mikey Madison for Best Actress for her performance in “Anora” and then Best Picture going to director Sean Baker’s “Anora,” Brody was finally played off the stage by the orchestra at the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood on Sunday, March 2, but what you may not have seen on the broadcast is he continued his speech to the usher walking him backstage and then the press backstage, which continues to this day. Brody has thanked everyone he’s ever met, given a complete and thorough verbal memoir of his life, and listed all of the filmmakers, actors, and actresses he hopes to work with in the second part of his career—if he stops his speech in time to resume said career. Reporters have grown tired of his speech, with most of the press room clearing out within the first week of his remarks. Some media outlets began bringing in reserve reporters to cover the speech, with reporters taking stints. Today, the only outlets still covering the speech minute by minute are Deadline, The Hollywood Reporter and The Word on Pop Culture. When asked for comment about whether or not Brody’s elongated acceptance speech has been bad press for “The Brutalist,” Corbet’s three-and-a-half-hour epic, Corbet said: “If I had known Brody was going to make the entire thing about himself, I would’ve gone with [Peter] Sarsgaard. It is evident now that I have awoken a monster.” Multiple Oscar voters have already stated they wish they had the chance to do voting over again, with one voter who wanted to remain anonymous saying: “If I had to do it over again, I’d go with Ralph Fiennes for ‘Conclave.’ I voted for Donald Trump in the 2024 election, and this was the worst ballot choice I made all year.” |
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