The 8

The Big Three

by Tyler Strong February 1, 2017

While the nominees were just announced on January 24, there are already some clear-cut favorites emerging in some of the big ticket categories at February 26’s Academy Awards ceremony. For example, when it comes to Best Picture, it’s a three-horse race. When the Oscars inevitably run long and the final envelope is torn open, you’re only going to hear one of three things: “Moonlight,” “La La Land” or “Manchester by the Sea.”

These three films have been sweeping most of the smaller awards shows leading up the Oscars, with “Moonlight” and “La La Land” both taking home top prizes at the Oscars’ little brother, the Golden Globes. Even then, since the Globes have a Best Comedy or Musical (of which “La La Land” is unabashedly both) and a Best Drama category (and “Moonlight” is the best drama), they essentially split the Best Picture award in half.

While the Best Picture race has essentially narrowed down to these three movies, there is an early favorite even within that group: “La La Land.”

This story about an aspiring actress and a struggling jazz pianist reminded me why I love movies, and why I love to go to the movies.

Writer/Director Damien Chazelle is one of the more dynamic young minds working in Hollywood today, and the follow-up to his Academy Award-winning “Whiplash” (2014) is as colorful and ambitious as it is wistful and heartbreaking, and you know what you’re in for from the very first scene — a huge song and dance number staged on an LA freeway.

“The idea was to sort of introduce the world and, I think even more importantly, begin the musical with as musical-esque a scene as we could possibly imagine,” Chazelle said in an interview with NPR concerning the opening. “Really try to announce our intentions right off the bat with a bang.”

While the ensemble numbers don’t carry the same intimacy as the solos and duets performed by the film’s co-stars, played brilliantly by Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone, they do act as anchors throughout the film and serve Chazelle’s purpose perfectly — telling the audience straight up that this is what the film is about; you can get off the train here or keep riding.

This is a gorgeous film to look at, there is an electric chemistry between the two leads, and the balance that Chazelle creates between hearkening back to the Hollywood musicals of old and the influencing of modern day sensibilities and situations make for one of the most fun and heartfelt cinematic experiences I’ve had in a long time. This movie is built for the big screen, and it won’t be in theaters too much longer. Make a point to catch this one while you still can.

“Moonlight” is just a special, special film. The care with which Director Barry Jenkins handles the subject matter of this movie is astonishing, and the plot is a story that isn’t heard or seen often enough: an oft-bullied African-American boy struggling with the urban environment in which he grows up, as well as some extremely personal obstacles that arise as he transforms from a young boy in the beginning of the film to a grown man by the end.

The protagonist’s story is told in three distinct chapters: the five- or six-year-old “Little,” the teenaged “Chiron,” and the adult “Black.” Each chapter introduces a new actor playing that same character, which you might think would make it hard to stay immersed in the experience, but each actor has a remarkable way with connecting with the (fantastic) supporting cast and the audience alike. It is the most seamless transition.

I can truly say I’ve never anything quite like “Moonlight.” It’s touching in the most personal way — even for someone like me, who couldn’t have had a more contrasting upbringing than Chiron. While I, and I’m sure many other viewers, can’t fully understand his struggle, there is something deeply human about Chiron’s life of hardship. There is a piece, maybe just a tiny piece, somewhere, that anyone can hang onto throughout the experience and when Chiron experiences even the slightest bit of catharsis, there is a heavy weight just lifted from your shoulders.

I had to make the trek to Athens, Georgia, to see “Moonlight” in a tiny, two-screen, independent theater (athenscine.com/intro.php) but if there’s a way to see this movie before it hits Netflix, home video and all the rest, please do it. We have to support art like this if it is to keep being created.

“Manchester by the Sea” did not snag a nomination for “Feel Good Film of the Year.” While that isn’t a real category at the Oscars (yet), it’s safe to say that “Manchester” would be missing.

This is a hard, brutally honest family drama from Writer/Director Kenneth Lonergan that simply presents its story to the viewer and forces them to process and ruminate on their own time, in their own way. There is no hand-holding here.

In this film, Casey Affleck’s character is forced to return to a hometown he left behind years ago by the death of his brother, leaving no one to take care of his now-orphaned nephew, played by Lucas Hedges. This pair, combined with Michelle Williams, make for an absolutely heartbreaking trio, with sensitive and subdued performances emanating from all three.

The decision of Lonergan to present his story in such an unapologetic and melancholy way is not going to leave you bounding excitedly out of the theater. It’s more of a “silent walk back to the car and somehow even silent-er drive back home” sort of affair, but that shouldn’t take away from the great performances and tremendous writing this movie is packing. At times, it honestly felt like I was eavesdropping on real people having real conversations about real events, which is a welcome change from the generic, rehash of a rehash dialogue we as movie-goers are force-fed so frequently these days.

While “Manchester” is definitely the outside shot to win Best Picture, I’m just thrilled that there are so many great films to choose from.

I know a lot of people don’t put much weight in the Oscars — and I don’t blame them; the Academy voters typically award the same kinds of movies year after year — but they do inspire a boost in audience interest (and subsequently, audience viewings) for the films that garner attention. That’s important, especially for lower budget films like “Moonlight” and “Hell or High Water,” another best picture nom that I wrote up a few months ago.

Whether you tune in February 26 or not, make a point to seek out some of these special films. They’re leading the pack for a reason.

February 1, 2017

Rogue One: “Empire” Good?

by Tyler Strong January 11, 2017

I surprised even myself with how long it took for the words “Star Wars” to appear on this site. I’ve been a super fan of the series since my uncle gave me the original trilogy on VHS as a kid.

My mom figured I would grow out of it eventually, but here I am writing a review on a movie that, as a wide-eyed nine-year-old, I never imagined would be made. I thought I’d be rewatching and rewatching until the end of time when Disney changed all that by buying Lucasfilm for a cool four billion a few years ago. Now, they’re going to be cranking out a Star Wars movie at a clip of what appears to be one picture every 11 or 12 months, with the next major picture set to release on December 15, 2017.

However, in the words of Dr. Ian Malcolm, just because you could, doesn’t always mean you should…

The night before I saw the film (at the midnight release, mind you) I was already hearing the whispers of those who had the good fortune of getting into an early screening of the film: “Empire Strikes Back good.”

That’s a high bar. Most Star Wars fans who have their heads on straight will tell you that “The Empire Strikes Back” is the best installment in the series (“A New Hope” is the best film as far as I’m concerned but “Empire” is my favorite to watch), so that leaves absolutely no room for error when evaluating “Rogue One.”

This is where I get confused.

The aspects of “Empire” that make it the “best” or “most fun” film in the saga can truly be boiled down to one thing: the characters. The characters of Luke, Han and Leia (may she truly rest in peace) and their ever-evolving dynamic since the events of the preceding film make every scene in “Empire” riveting. It takes everything great about “A New Hope” and builds on it. Relationships change and grow, the stakes get higher and the overall tone of the franchise takes a dip into darkness to match the developments in the plot.

In “Rogue One,” however, the main cast of characters — all of whom are completely new to the series — are simply too static to complete an arc during the runtime of the movie, which makes it hard to really feel for them as the plot chugs along.

Yeah, I get it, they only get one movie as opposed to three and there are more new characters to devote time to than in past movies, but that’s no excuse to leave these personalities as under-developed as they are.

Don’t get me wrong, the performances are all solid, especially the ones coaxed out of Donnie Yen and Wen Jiang. Their characters have such an interesting dynamic — up there with the best duos in the series, R2D2 and C3P0 and Han and Chewbacca — that my only gripe is that I wish I had spent more time with them before the credits rolled.

Okay, I’ll tell you why the characters weren’t as developed as they should have been: the first hour or so of the movie is kind of an unnecessary slog. I’m going to remain on the spoiler-free side of history here, but I can tell you that the first “mission” the Rogue One crew embarks on once they’re all assembled and acquainted doesn’t actually have much pull on the overall plot. I understand the film went through extensive reshoots before the curtain finally opened last month, but I can’t help but wonder if some of the scrapped footage contained some further backstory and dialogue amongst our new cast of characters.

It only bothers me so much because every technical aspect of the film was excellent. The final battle scene was exciting and well-shot, the sound design was deep and vibrant throughout, and the score, put together by newcomer Michael Giacchino in just four weeks, might have been my favorite part of the whole experience.

Perhaps 12 months between major releases is just too short? Disney would never say so, of course, and they could release “Star Wars: A Jar-Jar Story” and I’d still show up at the midnight release. Many fans of the series, myself included, could stomach a longer wait between Star Wars releases in the hopes of getting a better final product but, unfortunately, it’s not just time that contributed to the magic of the original trilogy.

What exactly did create that undeniable magic and how it can be harnessed again? I’m not sure, but I still garner hope for the future of the franchise and, ultimately, the keys to the castle are in the right hands.

While “Rogue One” still has some signature Star Wars moments, including a terrifyingly awesome scene of Darth Vader doing some… Darth Vader things (man, was that scene alone worth the price of three tickets), the main characters come off a little on the thin side and keep the first standalone Star Wars film from Disney from becoming one with the Force.

January 11, 2017

Hero Worship

by Tyler Strong December 7, 2016

Dih-NI Vihl-Nuhv.

As far as pronunciation, that’s the best I can do for you there. What I can do with a little more eloquence is tell you about this director and what his challenging and affecting films are all about.

I’ll go ahead and say now that while I’m going to be talking about several of Villeneuve’s movies dating back to 2013, I’m going to keep this as spoiler-free as possible. That being said, I have a feeling you’ll want to check his movies out for yourself after learning more about him and his work.

While Villeneuve has been making films in his native Canada since at least 2000, the first I ever heard of him was in 2013, when I headed to the theater to catch “Prisoners,” his first major American release. “Prisoners” is a gripping, brutal drama about a kidnapping that asks its main character — and the viewer — just how far you would go to protect your child. Hugh Jackman plays the dangerously unhinged father of the missing child and Jake Gyllenhaal plays the detective trying to keep the situation under some semblance of control.

What struck me immediately was Villeneuve’s masterful hand at generating tension. Obviously, in a film about an ordinary man driven off the rails to the point of becoming almost feral in his hunt for the truth about his missing and endangered child, you would expect there to be some tense moments, but the way Villeneuve handles some of the scenes in this film is some of the most visceral I’ve ever seen.

For me, and I’m sure many others, it became physically hard to watch at times, based on the downright inhumane treatment of some of the characters and the choices made by the father pushed to the limit of his own mental stability. This is all emphasized by the unsettling score crafted by Icelandic composer and frequent collaborator of Villeneuve, Jóhann Jóhannsson. This pair will team up for several of Villeneuve’s other projects and, in every case, Jóhannsson’s contribution adds an anxiety-inducing element to the parts which demand tension, and an unnatural, eerie calm to the parts that demand time for the viewer to process what they’re seeing.

The no-breathing, no-blinking combination of Jóhannsson’s music with Villeneuve’s distinct visual style displayed in the grimy “Prisoners” stuck with the movie-going public and also garnered some critical acclaim, netting an Oscar nomination for Best Cinematography.

The next year, “Sicario” was released, in which a by-the-book FBI field agent is caught up in a shady mission in which the status quo is continually altered. “Sicario” delivers so much more than your run-of-the-mill action thriller, with a thought-provoking narrative and a focus on character motivations taking precedence over accumulating a high body count. It coaxes great performances out of the consistently excellent Emily Blunt, as well as from Josh Brolin and Benicio del Toro, the latter of which almost stealing the movie away from Blunt with his stoic and cryptic turn as a government operative with ties to various criminal organizations.

In every way a typical action movie that gets released nowadays fails, “Sicario” succeeds. Where the average action thriller might bombard the viewer with CGI explosions from start to finish, “Sicario” forgoes that trope for a more realistic and meaty commentary on the government’s moral code when going about foreign affairs, with Emily Blunt — and the viewer — becoming increasingly disgusted and disturbed as she uncovers the true meaning for her being invited onto the team.

The “action” climax in the middle of this movie is paced to with extreme care by Villeneuve, so much so that when the first bullet is (finally) fired, you’re on the verge of passing out from holding your breath so long. Again, Villeneuve takes what in the hands of a lesser mind could have been a generic, carbon copy amalgamation of things we’ve already seen and instead takes a sharp turn onto Creative Street — which for him is at the intersection of Fantastic Cinematography and Music Lane and Thought-Provoking and Poignant Drive.

We’ve arrived at three weeks ago.

After seeing some of Villeneuve’s work and studying up on his future projects, I was excited to see his unique take on one of my favorite genres in “Arrival,” a science fiction film starring the vastly underrated Amy Adams and oft-overlooked Jeremy Renner. This movie… is something else. I can count on one hand the times I’ve been subjected to pure, silent awe for several minutes after the credits begin rolling and “Arrival” is the most recent instance. What this film says and how it goes about saying it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. (If you are at all inspired to see any of Villeneuve’s films after reading this: make it “Arrival.” You just gotta watch it.)

Villeneuve puts in a concerted effort to make the “realistic” parts feel real. When Adams’ and Renner’s characters are trying to get the government liaisons to understand their new ideas and developments, I felt like I was watching real scientists make their case to real military personnel. This is also helped by the grounded, textbook-based linguistic principles Adams’ character is attempting to teach the aliens in order to establish some form of two-way communication.

As a result of this dedication to believable realism, when the “science fiction,” alien aspects start snowballing toward terminal velocity and the story takes a turn for the fantastical, the movie earns the leap of faith it asks viewers to take. “Arrival” is the film I can say the least about without giving away its incredible secrets but, again, this is the absolute must-see of the bunch. And yes, I cried at the end.

The last film in Villeneuve’s American repertoire that I’ve yet to talk about is without a doubt his weirdest and most perplexing film of all. “Enemy” was released after “Prisoners” and before “Sicario,” but made next to no money at the box office and was all but lost in the shuffle, which probably has something to do with its cryptic imagery and the number of varying interpretations it has generated among its viewers.

This is another Jake Gyllenhaal collaboration in which Gyllenhaal plays a history professor who discovers there is someone out there who looks and sounds exactly like him. He attempts to hunt down his doppelganger and, as a result, has his reality called alarmingly into question.

From the very first sequence of the film, you are conditioned to expect something wildly different than what even the most straight-forward movies about someone having their reality called alarmingly into question have to offer… there may not be many of those, but you get the idea.

In the same year where Gyllenhaal starred as a greasy, exploitative “journalist” in “Nightcrawler,” he delivered an equally unnerving performance in “Enemy,” playing two versions of himself onscreen with each version having their own distinct but subtle nuances developed.

I watched “Enemy” all the way through and when the shockingly memorable last shot blacked out and the credits rolled, I thought I got it. It was a good movie!

It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a clip of Villeneuve talking about the “correct” interpretation of the story that I actually got it — and it hit me like a truck. I had the same feeling as I did during the last 20 minutes of “Arrival” when I realized I was seeing a different level of filmmaking than what I was used to. I immediately wanted to watch “Enemy” again and see if I could pick up clues about what I had just learned.

Denis Villeneuve’s films are made for people who demand more out of their movie-going experience than the run-of-the-mill… anything. You can expect a level of weighted tension and detailed, poignant storytelling and character-building that sadly is just far too uncommon these days.

Next on the horizon for Villeneuve is the reboot/sequel to 1982’s “Blade Runner,” and with someone as imaginative and meticulous as him being handed the keys to that world and those characters, I can’t wait to see how he enthralls me again.

December 7, 2016

Augusta loves “The Big Mo”

by Metro Spirit August 27, 2016

If you are looking for something fun to do this upcoming three-day weekend, The Big Mo will be celebrating its 18th Annual Labor Day Weekend Triple Feature Extravaganza on Sept. 2-4.

While most of the legendary outdoor screens that saw many American couples through their first kiss have long ago been converted to retail property or junkyards, it’s still possible to experience the drive-in of yesteryear, today.

The Monetta Drive-In Theatre, or “The Big Mo,” as it has come to be called, was opened by Linda and Richard Boaz in the summer of 1999.

Located less than an hour from Augusta in Monetta, S.C., this much beloved drive-in has won over the hearts of many moviegoers over the years.

Co-owner Linda Boaz and her husband used to go to a drive-in regularly when they lived in West Virginia.

Over the years, they developed a fondness for drive-ins and, when traveling, would always make a point to visit even the ones that had been closed down in other states and cities.

Boaz said her husband came across the abandoned Big Mo — which originally opened in 1951 and closed in 1986 — after he had driven to Aiken on business from the couple’s home in Irmo, S.C.

It was a lot of work to undertake, but the couple managed to clear the tall pine trees that had overgrown the lot and outfit the place with new screens and a rebuilt concession stand.

The Big Mo is an authentic drive-in experience that is hard to find in this day and age.

The drive-in will be celebrating its 18th Annual Labor Day Weekend Triple Feature Extravaganza on Sept. 2-4 with six of the biggest movies of the summer being shown on two of The Big Mo’s screens. The drive-in offers three different screens.

The Big Mo has already announced that the main screen will feature Disney’s “Finding Dory” and “The Secret Life of Pets,” while Screen 2 will feature Marvel’s “Civil War: Captain America” and “Suicide Squad” and Screen 3 will feature “Men in Black” and “Batman.”

The final three movies for each screen will be announced later this week.

Admission to The Big Mo is $8 per person for ages 12 and over, while children ages 4-11 are $4 each. Children 3 and under are free. Cash only is accepted at The Big Mo.

The drive-in also offers a full-service concession stand featuring hot dogs, hamburgers, corn dogs, chicken sandwiches, popcorn, pizzas, nachos, cotton candy and soft drinks. But no alcohol is allowed at the drive-in.

The Big Mo is open on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and is occasionally open on Thursdays for the premiere of new movies.

To get there, take I-20 East toward Columbia. Take Exit 33 (about 20 minutes past Aiken) and take State Road 39 for seven miles to Monetta. Turn right on U.S. 1. The Big Mo will be on the right side, about a mile down.

Here is basically everything you need to know when visiting The Big Mo:

• No readmission.
• No refunds once show has begun. No rain checks for bad weather.
• No grills, laser pointers, alcohol, illegal substances or glass containers.
• One space per vehicle.
• Park conversion vans and other high clearance vehicles on the last two rows. Parking attendants have final say on where vehicles should park
• Hatches must be no higher than the top of the vehicle.
• Don’t sit on top of your vehicle.
• Don’t throw balls, frisbees or other objects near the screen tower or front fence.
• Keep ticket stub as proof of purchase.
• Use parking lights when driving in theatre.
• Turn off all vehicle lights when parked.
• Please use trash cans and vehicle’s ashtrays. Trash bags are available in concession stand.
• Wear shoes at all times.
• Supervise your children at all times.
• Please be courteous to others.
• Don’t drive over 5 mph.
• Play area is closed during the movie.
• No smoking in the concession stand.
• The line for admission forms on the south side of the drive-in entrance.
• During extremely hot or cold temperatures, if you plan to run your engine during the movie, please park in the rear of the field.
• No field switching. Your ticket buys admission to one screen only. You may walk around all three fields before the movies start, but once the movies begin, you must stay on the field for which you hold a ticket.
• Plan to arrive 1.5 to 2 hours before showtime during the summer and for blockbuster movies.

For more information about The Big Mo, visit the drive-in’s website at www.thebigmo.com.

August 27, 2016

Kubo and the Two Strings Just Saved Summer

by Tyler Strong August 24, 2016

It’s only August, but 2016 has been an underwhelming year at the theater.

Yes, there’s still plenty of time for a late flourish to finish out the year strong (I’ll be seeing “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story” at midnight and keep an eye out for “The Accountant” in October) but judging from what we’ve seen so far, this year hasn’t been nearly as impressive as the slam dunk that 2015 turned out to be.

However, one animated film from a budding studio just gave this year a fighting chance.

A friend of mine was taking his two younger siblings to see “Kubo and the Two Strings” and, after this abysmal summer of movie-going, I decided to give this “kids’ movie” a shot in hopes of seeing at least one good movie at the theater this month.

I think I liked it way more than the kids.

“Kubo” is a beautiful and inventive adventure film that delivers on every level, from the engrossing story to the stellar voice work to the gorgeous stop-motion animation style from the studio behind it. It’s one of those animated films that, while it may be marketed toward kids, there’s so much more than just spectacle that can be gleaned from the messages in the film itself.

The story is more melancholy than you’d expect from a summer movie “for kids,” but not so dour that it puts a damper on the experience as a whole, and the lessons learned throughout the film about imagination and perspective are so important for the next generation to be exposed to.

Kubo, voiced by Art Parkinson, is a young boy living in Japan at a time where monsters and magic are real, and through a particular set of circumstances (that I won’t spoil because you should go see this movie), he sets out on an adventure to obtain three pieces of powerful armor with the help of protective Monkey and forgetful but valiant Beetle, voiced by Charlize Theron and Matthew McConaughey, respectively.

Kubo and his companions are faced with various obstacles and foes along the way and, with the help of his magical shamisen (like a Japanese guitar with fewer strings), Kubo has the power to bring pieces of paper to life that can form miniature samurai, animals, and even a boat. Everything about this movie screams creativity and inventiveness, even down to the way Kubo and his friends handle the situations they find themselves in.

During the course of Kubo’s journey, he also learns valuable lessons about forgiveness, perspective and family from Monkey and Beetle. This isn’t a movie stuffed with filler. Every experience that Kubo goes through leads to a valuable lesson, and they almost always come after a rousing action sequence that keeps everybody in the audience engaged. There are moral aspects that any child can understand and even more so that adults can appreciate.

While the story deals with some decidedly heavy aspects, from Kubo’s depressed mother and their struggle to make ends meet to Kubo’s constant hiding from his vengeful grandfather, the film’s colorful backdrop and snappy dialogue from its charismatic trio of main characters keep it from dragging for even a minute of it’s 102-minute runtime or becoming too grim for a filmgoer of any age to sit through comfortably.

I would be remiss if I didn’t say a few words about the studio behind this movie, Laika, who flexes its hallmark stop-motion animation muscle in a breathtaking way in this film. This is the same team that created “Coraline,” “Paranorman” and “The Box Trolls,” but “Kubo” has got to be the crown jewel in their repertoire so far. The film sports colorful landscapes and action sequences that put some recent live-action movies to utter shame, and much of the work is done by hand, a painstaking process that is wholly justified by the result.

When you actually see “Kubo” for yourself, you’ll see how this art style just leaps right off the screen in shimmering detail. If Laika keeps producing these offbeat, brave, beautiful films, Disney and Pixar are going to have a real problem on their hands atop the animation throne.

Take your kid to see this movie. Take your mom to see this movie. Man, take me to see this movie. It’s worth your time and it’s certainly worth the money. Laika and studios like it don’t make enough money, and we as moviegoers should be championing the teams dedicated to the fresh, creative filmmaking like what’s on display here.

Summer may be winding down, but 2016 isn’t dead yet thanks to Kubo and his two strings.

August 24, 2016

Christmas Movie Apocrypha

by Josh Ruffin December 22, 2015

It’s easy, I think, to labor under the illusion that all of our favorite holiday films have somehow always existed, that they sprung fully formed from the primordial ooze, as if God, after realizing what a hopeless existence he doomed us to, said, “Oh jeez, you guys. My bad. Here’s some feel-goods.”

But even these touchstones of our childhoods have something of the nitty-gritty to them, some apocrypha that merits telling, if only to make us appreciate them even more. So here are a few little-known facts about your (or, who are we kidding, my) favorite Christmas films.

The Crew of “A Christmas Story” Actually Stuck Flick’s Tongue to that Pole

“A Christmas Story” is chock-full of iconic moments and immortally quotable lines, perhaps none more so than the scene in which a group of boys taunts Flick into sticking his tongue to a flagpole to see if it will stick. The “exact exchange of nuance and ritual” with regards to “double” and “triple-dog” daring each other is what really makes the scene, but actual payoff — Flick’s tongue, of course, becoming stuck to the flagpole — is played to hilarious effect by all involved.

Because it kind of actually happened. In a book detailing the film’s production, cast and crew members own up to pranking the hell out of a pubescent boy. See, to achieve the tongue-sticking effect, the crew ran a vacuum through a hollowed-out pole, then drilled a tiny hole in the exterior to create suction. Scott Schwartz, the actor playing Flick, would stick his tongue onto the hole, thereby achieving the effect. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but was strong enough to hold his tongue in place.

Schwartz knew all this, had been briefed on it, and was cool with it. But when the scene was over, director Bob Clark — who, I guess not surprisingly, had filmed the “Black Christmas” horror flick just prior to this — called “Cut,” then sent the crew off for a lunch break, leaving Schwartz with his tongue stuck to the pole, probably flailing around exactly as he did in the film. There’s probably a joke to be made about Schwartz’ subsequent porn career, but I’m above that, at least when I’m sober.

“It’s a Wonderful Life” was Initially Famous Only for the Snow

“It’s a Wonderful Life” is a shockingly polarizing film today, with about half of American lauding it as the greatest Christmas movie ever made, with the other half decrying it as two hours of milquetoast propaganda. Honestly, it’s kind of a minor miracle that a movie about a man driven to suicide became a holiday family classic, but that’s neither here nor there.

What people forget, however, is that the film was a complete bomb when it was first released. Remember, this was immediately post-WWII, and the entire country was a little disillusioned with… well, everything in general. People were beginning to realize that, every so often, life DOESN’T wrap itself up with a big fat bow, so director Frank Capra, famous for similarly rose-colored classics as “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” and “You Can’t Take it With You,” was kind of up sh*t creek when he even decided to start making the movie.

But you know what people did love? The SNOW. The film was nominated for five Academy Awards (but, y’know, so was “Crash”), but the only one it nabbed was for Technical Achievement. RKO Pictures had developed a new chemical method for creating the falling snow in the winter scenes; they did this because snow in movies was typically created by crushing up white-colored corn flakes, and the studio wanted to ease the hassle of dubbing in dialogue later on that had initially been drowned out by the actors walking around on mounds of crunchy breakfast cereal.

I like to think that this movie and “White Christmas” populate a shared universe where the song “Snow” is about this, because it’s the only reason I can think of that Irving Berlin would let that one make the cut. Or cocaine. Maybe cocaine.

“The Muppet Christmas Carol” Featured a Grab-Bag of Technical Tricks

It may not seem like it at first, but any full-length production involving a combination of puppets and live actors is bound to require some ingenuity and elbow grease. And so it was with this supremely underrated version of Charles Dickens classic Christmas ghost story, starring Michael Caine, the Muppets and literally no one else who matters. Caine, despite having to act, engage and emote with a bevy of polyester co-stars, is arguably the greatest Scrooge to ever grace the screen, and the Muppets are as charming and heartfelt as ever.

Also, the film features some impressive technical achievements that you probably never noticed or assumed. Take, for instance, the musical numbers bookending the film: “Scrooge” and “Thankful Heart.” Caine merrily minces his way through the streets of London, interacting with both live actors and puppets, all fairly seamlessly. But here’s where it got tricky: the dozens of puppets were controlled by dozens of puppeteers, all located right beneath Caine’s feet. Not only that, but they had to stand or crouch in recessed cubbies cut into the floor of the set. So for that entire time, Caine is hitting his marks, delivering dialogue, singing and dancing, all while avoiding shin-kicking the puppets or stepping on anyone’s head.

Later, Scrooge is visited by the first ghost: Christmas Past, here portrayed by an ethereal, cherubic embryo-type child that is, holy crap, a lot creepier now that I think about it. It looks like CGI, but it’s not: to achieve the effect, the puppet was first suspended in a tank of water, its movements recorded, then finally green-screened into the actual scene with Caine.

Perhaps most impressively, when Bob Cratchet (Kermit) and Tiny Tim (Robin) are walking through the street, singing on the way home, it took a team of several different puppeteers to make that happen. See, Kermit’s legs are fully visible, which is unusual and difficult for this type of shot. So a rotating walkway was constructed, and a gang of puppeteers, operating Kermit’s torso, head, mouth, and legs, to achieve the walking effect.

No One Except Irving Berlin Thought Much of “White Christmas” at First

It’s the best-selling single of all time, let alone the most popular holiday song of all time. Bing Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas,” whatever you may think of it, is an absolutely immortal tune, a staple of the season, and only slightly less depressing than “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” And almost no one thought much of it.

Songwriter Irving Berlin sure did; when he originally jotted down a rough draft of the song, he reportedly summoned his secretary and said “Grab your pen and take down this song. I just wrote the best song I’ve ever written — heck, I just wrote the best song that anybody’s ever written!” Berlin introduced the song through Bing Crosby in 1941 for the latter’s Christmas Day recording of “The Kraft Music Hall.” Crosby famously said of the song when he first heard it: “I don’t think we have any problems with that one, Irving.”

Initial sales backed that up. It performed poorly, overshadowed by “Holiday Inn’s” other singles, but it rocketed up the charts the following year, and the rest is history: it went on to inspire an eponymous sequel of sorts to “Holiday Inn,” and made Crosby all of the money, ever. Bing remained fairly dismissive of the song, saying that “a jackdaw with a cleft palate could have sung it,” because snippy jabs were hilarious in America’s golden age.

December 22, 2015

Parallel Horror

by Josh Ruffin October 21, 2015

Hey, remember a few weeks ago when I said I was kicking off a series of pieces focusing on time-travel related movies? Yep, me too; like, last night.

Since today is the designated “Future Day” that takes place in “Back to the Future, Part II” and Halloween also just happens to be about a week away, it only makes sense to do one running down a few of my favorite horror films that handle the “multiple worlds” type of time travel in unique, interesting or particularly grotesque ways.

Keep in mind, I’m listing these not just because they involve time travel, but also because they’re really, really good. That being said, if stuff like brains growing out of demon hands or, I dunno, penises that look like dragons make you squeamish, you should probably just stop at this article. M-kay? M-kay.

V/H/S Viral (“Parallel Monsters” segment)

The “V/H/S” series of films is definitely a mixed bag when it comes to quality, none more so than this third installment of the anthology-style franchise. Each film, and the series as a whole, revolves around a series of videotapes that has a sometimes-creepy, sometimes-devastating effect on whoever views it; sort of like “The Ring” if it were mostly focused on body horror.

The penultimate segment, “Parallel Monsters,” is by far the best one in “Viral,” if for no other reason than the profoundly unsettling slow-build that leads into one of the more shocking climaxes of any film, short or feature-length, I’ve ever seen. In the story, a man, ostensibly a scientist, has been building a sort of “doorway” in the basement of the home he shares with his wife, Marta. When he activates the device, we not only see that it works, but that it has opened up a portal into a near-identical parallel dimension; we can see it’s identical, because an exact copy of the man is on the other side, having built the exact same machine.

Astounded and giddy, they begin to talk to each other and find that they have everything in common: they are both married to “Marta,” have both been working on the machine for the same amount of time, and their houses are exact mirror images of each other. They agree to explore each other’s side, and to meet back at the doorway in 15 minutes. As the perspective switches back and forth between the two, they begin to discover small differences in the parallel worlds: for one, Marta is fairly meek and quiet in the original world, but vivacious and outgoing in the other. As the two men spend a few minutes with each other’s version of Marta, things begin to quickly unravel, in the weirdest, most fantastically gross ways.

Trust me: look this up on Netflix and just queue up this segment. Then, y’know, never go to sleep again, ever.

Event Horizon

I’m willing to bet you’ve heard of this film, if not seen it. It’s probably been awhile. Let me refresh you.

On the surface, it’s pretty simple: a spaceship, utilizing an experimental type of hyper drive (which, and this is probably bunk, scientifically speaking, creates an artificial black hole and bridges two point in space light years apart), has gone missing, and another spaceship is dispatched to go and find it. That, essentially, is the plot, though there’s plenty of between-the-lines nightmare fuel to fill in the cracks.

For one thing, when the team arrives on the now-deserted ship, they recover the video log kept by the captain. Watching the final entry, they see a visibly tormented, mutilated crew violently slaughtering one another, while the blinded captain holds his own eyeballs up the camera and says, “liberate tuteme ex infiris.” Literally, “save yourself from hell.” The rescue crew deduces that the ship’s drive ripped a hole in space-time, and was sent to an alternate dimension of “pure chaos,” and has been instilled with a malevolent sentience. Essentially, the ship has gone to hell and, as a result, now carries hell with it.

It’s a great set-up, and a great take on the nature of Hell itself. Grounding something like that, a pure, ethereal, eldritch horror, making its existence entirely possible, almost makes it more horrifying. Perhaps most effectively, the movie is masterful at only showing glimpses of what this hell actually comprises, and what goes on. You can go frame-by-frame with those scenes if you want, but… good lord, what is wrong with you?

Dark City

Another one that might make you go, “Oh yeah, that.” This movie came around at a weird point in our popular culture: people still wore Jncos, shopped at Spencer’s Gifts and snowboarder goggles were popular with non-snowboarders. Also, it had a similar look to, and was released around the same time as, the Matrix trilogy, so you can imagine it kind of got lost in the shuffle. That said, it’s a really unique take on the parallel universes motif.

A man, played by Rufus Sewell (truly our finest lazy-eyed thespian), awakens in a bathtub, having apparently been framed for the ritualistic murder of a woman. He makes it out of the apartment, and is soon on the run from both the city’s police and from “The Strangers,” terrifying, vaguely human authority figures who are able to stop time each night at midnight, and rearrange the city (the configuration, the details of its inhabitants’ lives, everything). The explanation for the presence and abilities of The Strangers is a little bit of a letdown (it’s aliens; of course it’s aliens), but it’s the atmosphere of the city itself, not to mention the pervasive sense of paranoia and oppression that the film executes so brilliantly, that makes you keep watching. If you like “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” this is the one for you.

October 21, 2015

Oh, the Horror!

by Josh Ruffin October 7, 2015

As we draw nearer and nearer to Halloween, it occurs to me — only now, for the first time in 31 years — that I’m not exactly sure what it is that draws me to horror. And I don’t mean Halloween; I mean horror. I know what draws me to Halloween; I can categorize it in phases of youth: candy, horror films, girls in Freddy Krueger hooker outfits, horror films and candy. At this point it’s pretty much horror films, though I will demolish a king-sized Watchamacallit after a training run in less time than it takes Future Dead Teen No. 4 to say “I think we should split up.”

To really pinpoint what draws me to horror, I think I have to try and lock down exactly what kind of horror I tend towards. Sure, if “Psycho,” “Night of the Living Dead” or “Sleepaway Camp” happen to be on, you bet I’m going to finish watching it. But as far as what I seek out? Hold on, let me pull up my library holds and Netflix queue:

“Kraken,” China Mieville
“Wytches,” Scott Snyder
“The King in Yellow,” Robert W. Chambers
“Call of Cthulu”
“The Houses October Built”
“House of the Devil”

In order, we’ve got: 1) a conspiracy half-sendup featuring squid cults, sorcerer assassins and bookish museum curators, 2) a coming-of-age (of sorts) tale about primal witch-type creatures in the woods outsides of a small town, 3) proto-Lovecraftian creep-out, 4) actual Lovecraftian cosmic creep-out, 5) found footage nonsense mixed with moments of abject terror, 6) devil baby.

I don’t have the time or space to go through the plots of each one and glean something from it; this thing runs out at the classifieds (I assume that’s where I’m relegated to by now?), and the last thing I want is for the typesetters to misplace a phrase like “devil pig rape mask.” But looking at each of these titles next to each other reveals something about them, and maybe about me: combined, they represent a dichotomy. That is, each one of them represents a worldview that is under either clandestine yet absolute authority, or under absolutely no authority at all.

Each one frightens me, and I think it frightens everyone, to some extent. In a way, it motivates everything we do: it’s been argued that sympathy and empathy are little more than an extension, a deeply-seeded evolutionary memory, of the fear of consequence. This, in turn, motivates law and acquiescence to it, motivates good behavior, keeps society limping along as it does. At the same time, some part of us wants to be free of constraint, though the lines we draw for ourselves depend very much on how much stock we put in consequence.

Conversely, a good many of us simply cannot handle the idea of a world in which we are in absolute control of our own fate; to be so is to also be at the mercy of an uncaring world, a universe that sees us as little more than a feedbag for time. We deal with this through religion, primarily, and ascribe order to our lives. That sounds clinical and agnostic — and, okay, maybe it kind of is — but it’s a better way to parse a life than most.

What frightens me most? I’m caught between absolute freedom is horrifying, but so too is absolute servitude, even if only implied and seemingly benign. I want, as many do, to know what comes next, but I’m wary of consequence. In some ways, I want to make my own. To play the god.

Our lives are either one continuous violation of authority, or less-than-blip on the cosmic radar. Crank the kettle corn. Be Gum Under a Table. Happy almost Halloween.

October 7, 2015

“Jurassic World”

by Sam Eifling June 17, 2015

If only they could’ve kept the dinosaurs from killing the bejesus out of everyone, the Jurassic World theme park of “Jurassic World” would’ve made a helluva vacation spot.

Gyro-hamster balls to let you glide through pastures of brontosaurs; a jungly lazy river for paddling past apatosaurs; a petting zoo where tykes could saddle up on lil’ triceratopses. Holography displays, interactive DNA exhibits, a dang Starbucks in the concourse — even knowing how the place turns into a bonanza of murder and chaos, I’m tempted to go. Tickets have got to be bottomed out right now, after all.

Trouble is, on a Central American island where the resident genetics lab is also reviving extinct species by splicing their genes with whatever rad animal bits they can crib from nature, anything can happen. This is the central engine of “Jurassic World,” in which the characters — including Chris Pratt as an ex-Navy velociraptor trainer and Bryce Dallas Howard as a spreadsheet-minded corporate prig — are almost wholly incidental to the plot.

Those two go out searching after A) a hybrid T-rex/grab-bag behemoth escapes its pen to terrorize every dinosaur and person on the island, and B) her nephews (Ty Simpkins and Nick Robinson) go missing in the wilds, just as the park is clamping down for the emergency. Meanwhile a shady dude connected to the military somehow (Vincent D’Onofrio) is too psyched for his long-term health about the prospect of trained battlefield raptors.

Pratt’s fun enough; he’s still dwelling in the meteoric rise of last summer’s “Guardians of the Galaxy,” which made him an overnight star. This is where he vaults firmly onto the A-list of relatable dudes who can carry a tentpole picture. “Jurassic World” zoomed to the largest weekend box office haul in the history of movies, raking in more than half a billion bucks and landing as the top movie in every major movie market in the world, something like 66 of them. That’s bananas, considering especially the director, Colin Trevorrow, had only one major picture to his name before this, 2012’s “Safety Not Guaranteed,” which made all of $4 million at the box office — not exactly “Avengers” ducats.

“Jurassic World” as a movie is all right, but only all right. Put it this way, if its sequel has an entirely different cast, no one will much notice or care. And while it followed an established box office juggernaut in the first three “Jurassic” movies, those were made (the second two, weakly) before a large slab of this film’s audience was even born. So what happened?

It would be a cinch to overthink this, I believe, so let’s not strain in that direction. The crush people have here is squarely on the dinosaurs. “Jurassic World” has moments of genuine comedy and maybe an emotion or two, though nothing so complex it couldn’t fit inside an emoji. What it brings in shameless heaps is dinosaur awe and dinosaur fear. Outer space might be the only better brand in big-ticket cinema. Tricking your brain into believing, if only for a few fleeting seconds, that a made-up jacked-up carnivore dino might bite you in half, or pick you up and drop you squirming and screaming into a mosasaurus tank, is a catchy hallucination to offer people, and it turns out the response crosses just about any cultural boundary you care to name.

Here’s the odd bit, though. In the 20ish years since the original “Jurassic Park,” some of the effects have gotten much, much better — while others, such as watching dinosaurs run in packs, seem to have stalled. For anyone who remembers the sheer mind:blown of the original, who got all geeked up for John Williams’s iconic score (fire up the French horns, ’cause it’s back too), the joy of “Jurassic World” is in its overwrought retread of what is in essence a campy monster movie, “King Kong” with a fossil record.

Middling though it may be, it’s also low-brow as high art, a guilty pleasure without shame or consequence.

June 17, 2015

“Spy”

by Sam Eifling June 10, 2015

The evolution of the Melissa McCarthy comedy has stumbled ahead somewhat with “Spy,” a spook spoof in which the joke, for once, is not that McCarthy is a bumbling lout (see: “Tammy”), but rather than she’s secretly, perhaps even to her, incredibly good at her job.

In this case she’s at the CIA, running support on the microphone side of field agents’ earpieces. Specifically, in the opening, we have agent Jude Law doing his best full-of-himself James Bond impression, all insouciant swagger and action-hero fisticuffs, made possibly only through McCarthy’s directions on how to escape a villain-mansion.

It’s a role they both downplay: Out in the field, they all chuckle, can you imagine how she’d fare?

That lasts until tragedy befalls the field agent, and the knowledge that agents’ identities have been compromised leads the anonymous basement jockey — who fared quite nicely, it turns out, during her combat training years earlier — to venture into the field, in Europe, certain that she will be completely anonymous. The laughs come from the blunt vulgarity of director Paul Feig’s script; he also worked on McCarthy pics “Bridesmaids” and “The Heat,” which rhymes a bit with the CIA setup here.

Perhaps alone right now among stars of her caliber, McCarthy winds up getting picked on in her roles; “Spy” goes to that well several times, naming everything about her (clothes, word choice, inexperience, single-ness) without touching on her size, tactfully. And it hardly has to, for once she starts kicking the asses of would-be Euroscum terrorists and their lackeys, her physical comedy says all it needs to with every goon she throws onto the body pile.

“Spy” celebrates the nebbishes who can yank a trigger when given a chance. McCarthy has an ally in a fellow basement agent, Miranda Hart, the Jeff to McCarthy’s Mutt, just as outsider-librarian nerdy. Everyone else is content to dump on her: the CIA deputy director, a no-nonsense Allison Janney, who continues to feed McCarthy a diet of false identities seemingly pulled from the church bake-sale corners of Midwestern Facebook. Jason Statham is the chauvinistic field agent sent to remind McCarthy constantly that he earned his bona fides by having his arm torn off and reattached, or by ingesting hundreds of poisons in an underground poison-taking ring.

The casting masterstroke, though, is brittle evildoer Rose Byrne, ostensibly in a classic villain role but far too funny to stay mad at. Like Kristen Wiig and Sandra Bullock before her, Byrne gives McCarthy a pucker-tight presence to play against, with a dollop of insouciant wickedness.

Feig likes to let his actors riff and to let God and his editors sort out the takes into a coherent film. True to form, “Spy” feels loose throughout, full of jokes you can tell just flew off the top of someone’s head and setups that require a detour from reality to make remotely plausible. But it’s really no more of a cartoon than the typical Bond film that it sends up even as it celebrates.

The opening credits, in a sequence ripped straight from the Bond aesthetic, announce that it’s a comedy only in how ultra-seriously it’s taking itself. The tone can’t hold to the utterly straight-faced — it’s not “Airplane” — but works to make its central premise believable, that gentle desk-bound Jude Law fangirl Melissa McCarthy is the spy America needs now, to save us from rogue nukes.

It has a funny ring to it, made all the more so when she starts cracking skulls.

June 10, 2015