The story on this one is that it began as a short story and morphed into a full novel. Most of the reviews I read indicate a dissatisfaction with the length of the novel; that it was too short. I disagree; I think this would have made a near perfect short story. Which is not to say I didn’t enjoy the novel; I certainly did. But being a quick read is a goal, not a flaw, and lengthening this story could only have hurt it, not helped.
Gaiman is always an illustrative writer, and he may be at his best here as he stays close to home; his remembrances of childhood and the world of his past ground this otherwise supernatural tale. Best of all is the way he puts the focus of the story solely through the eyes of his seven year old protagonist. The story grows increasingly more adult, dark and serious, but the perspective remains with the boy and he retains his singularly child-like voice; everything is viewed consistently as a child, which really keeps the story fresh. Gaiman never lets the boy have adult insights or allows an omniscient view for narrative ease.
While I didn’t think it was up there with some of his best (and I appear to be in the minority on that), this is nevertheless one of his most personal novels and well recommended.
Mostly improv film knocked out while in Chile unsuccessfully making another movie. Probably more fun if taking hallucinogen like the actors.
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This is less a movie than a side project. Michael Cera was in Chile with writer/director Sebastián Silva and his brothers learning Spanish to make the thriller Magic Magic, which was in development hell. So they decided to film a small picture loosely based on a couple of Silva’s life experiences. They added Gaby Hoffman as the titular Crystal Fairy (based on a real person), took drugs and improvised.
Since it’s so improvisational, most of it rides on the acting. It’s a brave role for Hoffman, a former child actor, who really goes for it as a New Age hippie who bares herself emotionally and physically for most of the film. She’s easily the best thing in the picture.
Michael Cera is fascinating because he plays against type as a self-centered jerk that you really want to slap. He sells it so effectively that you can forget that you’ve thought he was such a nice guy in every other movie.
The rest of the cast consists of the director’s three brothers, who are all really good. They each bring something a little different to the mix and have a very natural and watchable style.
Interestingly, some of the actors actually tripped off of the hallucinogen from the San Pedro cactus on screen, adding to the credibility of their performances and making this otherwise largely unforgettable movie somewhat memorable.
If you’re a fan of drug movies or road movies or have actually tripped on mescaline, this may be a whole lot more enjoyable. For the rest of us, it’s an interesting diversion but nothing more.
As Jamie travels in Chile, he invites an eccentric woman to join his group’s quest to score a fabled hallucinogen, a move that finds him at odds with his new companion, until they drink the magic brew on a beach at the edge of the desert.
Make sure you have a pint or two with this one. I didn’t, & I think I missed part of the spirit of the thing. Funny, honest & true to life.
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Drinking Buddies features Kate (Olivia Wilde) and Luke (Jake Johnson), work friends who seem perfect for each other. They are both in relationships, with Chris (Ron Livingston) and Jill (Anna Kendrick), respectively, and when the two couples take a weekend trip together it tests the boundaries of friendship and their relationships.
The movie is entirely improvisational, aside from the general plot as set out by writer/director/editor Joe Swanberg. I didn’t know that before watching the movie, but knowing that now it explains a lot. The movie is only 90 minutes but it feels a hell of a lot longer than that, and I think the improv pace is probably a large part of that. The freedom and challenges offered by improvisational acting is fascinating – for actors. For the rest of us watching, “don’t bore us, get to the chorus”.
The best byproduct of the improv acting is that many of these scenes are the most natural, realistic depictions of human interaction I’ve seen in a while. This is how people talk, flirt, argue, chitchat. It’s really a breath of fresh air. Mostly. The worst offshoot, of course, is that it meanders a little bit. Like life, you say? Yes, certainly. But that’s why we have editors. Life needs a little help.
But the overarching feeling you walk away with is pleasure. It’s really a very good movie. I found myself very engaged in the characters and story. Partly because I wanted to be sampling that sweet craft beer with them, but mostly because I actively wanted to see Kate & Luke get together. I really was enthusiastically hoping that they’d make it work. Guess I’m more of a romantic than I thought…
Luke and Kate are coworkers at a brewery who spend their nights drinking and flirting heavily. One weekend away together with their significant others proves who really belongs together and who doesn’t.
Locally shot comedy follows in long line of what used to be quirky indie feel-goods. They lose nothing by being more mainstream. #rockwell
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Hard to be really unique with certain movie genres at this point in film history; so many things have come before. The genre of coming of age comedies, for example, is certainly a very well-attended party. While you can generally count on them to be funny, it’s hard to find your own bit of fresh air.
The Way, Way Back is a little bit like this. First off, let me be clear: it’s a very good film. I definitely recommend it. It just feels somewhat familiar.
Call it a victim of success. These movies used to be on the outside looking in. You know the type – quirky, funny quiet films with biting dialogue, awkward moments, authentic emotions and adults behaving oddly. Usually a fun little soundtrack with newer little-known artists and one or two intentionally ironic out of date songs. Excitingly unknown actors and arty cinematography to taste. Well those aren’t “indie” anymore. Every major studio has a smaller studio entity to put these out. Those actors aren’t languishing in obscurity – they’re on the red carpet.
Which is a good thing, of course. It’s wonderful that so many different types of films are able to find a voice now. It’s getting a little harder to be heard with so many venues for films to be made and released, but the playing field has levelled out. The biggest challenge is no longer just getting your picture made; now you get to duke it out with all the other films for an audience; which, to be fair, the majors have been doing all along.
The Way, Way Back marks the directorial debut of Nat Faxon & Jim Rash, who also wrote the original screenplay. Faxon & Rash took home an Oscar for writing The Descendants, although I prefer their work here. It’s a far leaner tale – more satisfying.
One sort of strange characteristic of the film is that it was originally set in the 1980’s, but budgetary considerations turned it into present day. I didn’t know that particular fact until after seeing it, but I still got that impression while watching the movie. Maybe it’s the clear similarities between this and other recently filmed 80’s set comedies like The To-Do List and Adventureland.
Or maybe it’s the clear Bill Murray/Meatballs influence. I absolutely adore Sam Rockwell and he’s a blast here, but he’s not exactly blazing trails; variations of this character have appeared so often it should have a title. There is a very nice non-verbal moment in one of his last scenes that distinguishes his performance; he simply steps in front of the protagonist to shield him – it’s a very small gesture, but it provides a depth to the character that wasn’t explicit until that point.
The acting is, of course, fantastic. Usually is in this caliber of film. Steve Carell plays against type as a complete bastard with an authenticity that really makes you hate the guy. Being such a funny, talented and likeable guy it comes as a bit of a shock; I hope he only uses his powers for good. No one else stretches themselves notably, which is no criticism – they just turn in the usual great performances. Child actor Liam James blossoms in his starring role. You’re not a 3, kid…
Shy 14-year-old Duncan goes on summer vacation with his mother, her overbearing boyfriend, and her boyfriend’s daughter. Having a rough time fitting in, Duncan finds an unexpected friend in Owen, manager of the Water Wizz water park.
Hayao Miyazaki has announced his retirement. The Wind Rises reportedly will be his last film. (Or is it? There are now reports he is or has rescinded his retirement. Evidently this is something he has done a number of times.) Apparently he was saving the best for last; we should all be so fortunate to go out on top.
Now, I’m late to the Miyazaki party; I’ve only seen a few of his films so far, which is partly why I’m going to dedicate Mondays in the month of March to reviewing some of his classics. (The other reason is that my daughter is an enormous fan.) So, since I’ve only seen a couple of his movies, is it really fair to declare The Wind Rises his best? Yes. Yes it is. Because The Wind Rises is possibly the greatest hand-animated film ever made. I’m not really comparing it with his other films; I’m comparing it (favorably) to ever other animated film of all time.
This was the first of his films I’ve seen on the big screen, and that possibly leads me to have a greater impression of the grandeur and vastness of his scenes than I would at home. But I don’t think so. The sweeping vistas and clarity of screen composition is something I’ve been drawn to in each of his films.
In fact, the striking visuals of his movies may distract from his other talents as a filmmaker. What it most characteristic of Miyazaki films in my mind is not the visual style, it’s the narrative style. The pacing is truly unique. These stories breathe and shift; they are allowed time to develop. I often speak of pacing in my reviews; I consider pacing to be one of the most important elements in the success or failure of a film. And the unhurried narrative in Miyazaki’s films, and The Wind Rises in particular, provides a welcome respite from the breakneck speed of most films (especially animated ones). That’s not to say that they can’t become a bit slow, and the less engaging stories can drag on, but when you’ve got a good tale, it’s refreshing to be afforded the time and opportunity to let it find its own rhythm.
Miyazaki seems to have a sense of wonder about the world that leads to this style of filmmaking. In The Wind Rises, this view is personified in the main character, Jiro Horikoshi, whose childish fascination with flight seems undimmed throughout years of often fruitless striving for aeronautic success. Through setbacks and struggle, Jiro never seems to lose this sense of wonder or shed his genial outlook.
Horikoshi makes for a wonderful protagonist because of his talents but especially because of his single-minded love of flight. He is a brilliantly human character, as well; full of flaws that give the story depth. Joseph Gordon-Levitt is a natural for the part; his voice is quite fitting. In fact, none of the celebrity voices really distract, although I still greatly prefer to watch a film in the language in which it was filmed.
For my money, though, the success of this film is largely attributable to the story. I have long maintained that many artists do their best work when they work within the constraints of someone else’s input; film adaptations are our culture’s variations on a theme. There is something about having source material to inform the work that beautifully focuses gifted filmmakers.
The Wind Rises is a perfect example. This is the first time (to my knowledge) that Miyazaki has based his work on a real person. Jiro Horikoshi’s life was first chronicled in Tatsuo Hori’s short novel “The Wind Has Risen”, written in 1936–1937, then turned into a manga by Miyazaki in 2009. While the story of Horikoshi’s personal life appears to be largely fictionalized, his legacy as an engineer follows the historical record, and Miyazaki wisely takes as his cue a quote from Jiro Horikoshi: “All I wanted to do was to make something beautiful.”
This last point is hugely important, as audiences, not exclusively but certainly American audiences, may have trouble with a major concept here: Horikoshi’s work directly led to the planes that bombed Pearl Harbor. It’s not a minor consideration, and Miyazaki doesn’t treat it as one. The entire film is predicated on the idea that these men of science struggle with the reality of their creations. The engineers are all too aware of the military ends to which their inventions will be used; it is a constant theme that haunts Horikoshi and his colleagues. The subject is treated with respect and never sugarcoats reality.
The Wind Rises is an absolute triumph; it is among the greatest animated films ever made. Please take the opportunity to see it in theaters if you can.
