Mad God (2022) - Movie Review

 

Those who don’t follow the names of people attached to films as obsessively as I do may not be familiar with the name Phil Tippett, but chances are you are at least familiar with his work already. Star Wars, Jurassic Park, RoboCop, Willow, Starship Troopers, the birthing scene in Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 1; when it comes to the art of stop-motion animation and visuals effects in general, he is one of the masters. And over the past thirty years, he has been gradually working on the film that would be his magnum opus. An 83-minute stop-motion film which he would direct, write, produce, and of course, lovingly craft everything on the screen. And in June of this year, this work finally found public release on home of streamed horror Shudder, and holy shit, is this a film that needs to be seen.

Moonage Daydream (2022) - Movie Review

Like with any other genre, documentaries tend to stick to a formula, especially biographical ones: Go through the subject’s life in chronological order, from childhood to the early days to their initial brush with fame to their eventual solidification as someone worth making a documentary about. Include interviews with people revolving around that person, whether they knew them personally or looked up to them as a fan, show some behind-the-scenes footage of the person hard at work in their field of choice, maybe throw in some historical context to bring out the real worth of their efforts in the larger scheme of things; chances are you’ve seen something just like that at least once before.

Moonage Daydream isn’t a typical documentary. Coming from Brett Morgen, the mastermind behind Kurt Cobain: Montage Of Heck, it’d be a shock if it were. In fact, when Morgen offers up is so atypical, I’d almost question if this really qualifies as a ‘documentary’ in the strictest definition. While it most certainly offers a look into the life and works of David Bowie, this is more focused on aesthetics than historical documents. Mood rather than facts. It bends the conventions of film around its subject, rather than cutting the latter up to conform to the former. And in the result of this Technicolor smog cloud, Morgen offers up something that offers a far better understanding of Bowie than a simpler documentary would ever be able to grasp at.

The House That Jack Built (2019) - Movie Review

I feel like a john when discussing movies like this. Movies where the main intent at its core is to shock people by any means necessary, in this case made by a man who has basically built an entire career out of playing edgelord for the arthouse crowd. While that methodology has at least brought Lars Von Trier to some actual dramatic engagement on occasion, and even his worst films show a level of effort that is the least I ask for from edgelords (nothing worse than someone trying to shock you while putting in zero effort whatsoever), the man’s status as provocateur makes watching his movies, particularly his most recent ones, feel like I’m just playing into his hand. And unfortunately, the same applies for this one.

Song To Song (2017) - Movie Review

This… was a mistake. As I’ve said in reviews past, I don’t particularly like Terrence Malick. Like, not even a little bit. I think he’s undeniably talented and I’m not setting out to ruin his works for the people who do connect with them, but I was never one of them. I started with The Tree Of Life, a film I have seen crop up a lot in Internet and even general critical circles as one of the greatest films ever made. I watched it and I couldn’t even begin to see what those people saw in it. Even after having watched analyses of the film since watching it, I still don’t get how people could like something this absolutely dull. I mentioned in my review for Vacation as one of the worst films I’ve sat through, and even considering its visual chops, I stand by that. I then checked out To The Wonder, which I don’t have nearly as much against but still consider to be a weak feature. When a film contains dialogue like “What is this love that loves us?” or “Where are we when we’re there?”, it’s not just difficult to take seriously; it’s impossible.

So, why is looking at his latest feature today a mistake? Because having sat through it, I am struggling to put how this film affects me into words. Mainly because it didn’t really affect me that much overall, but also because I feel like I’ve already watched this movie twice before. I seriously doubt that I will be able to come up with anything worth reading to say about it, but ‘tis the season to make the effort so I’m going to try anyway. Wish me luck.

Nocturnal Animals (2016) - Movie Review

When it comes to the divide between mainstream blockbusters and arthouse features, the key difference I’ve found between them is how the audience... digests them, as it were. With mainstream films, they are designed to be enjoyed in the moment in a rather visceral fashion; this would explain why smaller release action films aren’t referred to as “arthouse” and instead as “straight-to-DVD”. Art films, like most other instances of Art with a capital A, largely exist for the sake of contemplation after the fact. The usually deeper subtexts and more intricate cinematic techniques stimulate further discussion after the fact, looking into the greater context of the work rather than instant gratification. Now, there is no singular ‘right’ way to make films and, when done right, both of these styles can lead to great works of cinema. However, of the two examples, I find myself being more hesitant when it comes to art films. After getting through today’s film, hopefully I’ll be able to explain why that is.