Quietly smoldering triangle that takes some different approaches, although the end result isn't too far off from the norm. The main difference is that the triangle consists of a husband and wife and a young man who attracts the closeted husband. The catch is that the wife is dying of cancer. The wife is played by the wonderful Lubna Azabal, who starred in Denis Villeneuve's best film, Incendies.
Director/co-writer Maryam Touzani and cinematographer Virginie Surdej create an intimate environment that invites us into the budding threesome. There is the expected awkwardness ... the husband suppressing his feelings, the wife dying but wanting her husband to feel free when she is gone, the young man who gradually enters the lives of the others (he is an apprentice at the couple's caftan store). Nothing feels false, and we want the best possible outcome for all of the characters ... to the extent it is possible, Touzani rewards our desires.
The film feels long at 122 minutes. It's not that there is anything obvious that could be cut, but the low-key tension walks a fine line between intensity and torpor. But that's a minor complaint for a film that takes just enough liberties with romantic triangle tropes to make The Blue Caftan feel unique.
[This is the twentieth in a series that will probably be VERY intermittent, if I remember to post at all. I've long known that while I have given my share of 10-out-of-10 ratings for movies over the years, in almost every case, those movies are fairly old. So I got this idea to go back and revisit movies of relatively recent vintage that I gave a rating of 9, to see if time and perspective convinced me to bump that rating up to 10.]
I think it’s the best fiction film I’ve seen from 2010, and I thought Jennifer Lawrence should have won the Best Actress Oscar over Natalie Portman for Black Swan. Lawrence was a revelation when I first saw the film. I knew nothing about her. Things have changed in just two years: as the star of The Hunger Games, Lawrence is poised to become one of the top stars of her day, and she’s only 21 years old. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to have reached such a pinnacle at an early age for the usual reasons (great-looking, panders to young males), but because she is giving excellent performances. It doesn’t hurt that she’s great-looking, of course, but Winter’s Bone buries her traditional good looks in grit and mounds of cold-weather gear, allowing her to be a special kind of beautiful, strong and centered. Perhaps Portman gives us a peek at what Lawrence might have in store: three movies in the Star Wars franchise, lots of indie films, the lead role in an action picture, and ultimately an Oscar.
It's interesting to look back after watching Lawrence's career over the past decade-plus. She did indeed end up in franchise films, playing Mystique in X-Men movies four times, and, of course, starring as Katniss Everdeen in four Hunger Games movies. In 2015 and 2016 she was the highest-paid actress in the world. But she has also featured in non-franchise films, including some indie projects (she formed her own production company ... the first release was the fine Causeway starring Lawrence and Brian Tyree Henry). She has been nominated for four Oscars, winning Best Actress for Silver Linings Playbook. It's a very successful career, and she's still only 33.
But what about "The 9s"? Did I underrate Winter's Bone because it was too new? I've seen it at least three times now ... clearly I like it. I taught it in tandem with the novel on which it was based when I was teaching. Perhaps most important for this purpose, in 2021, for a user poll at They Shoot Pictures, Don't They, I listed Winter's Bone among the 25 best movies of all time. 5, 945 films received votes ... I was the only person who voted for Winter's Bone. I have it at #7 on my list of the top films of the 2010s.
So yeah, I think it's time to give it the cherished 10/10.
This is the twenty-ninth film I have watched in "My Letterboxd Season Challenge 2023-24", "A 33 week long challenge where the goal each week is to watch a previously unseen feature length film from a specified category." This is the 9th annual challenge, and my fifth time participating (previous years can be found at "2019-20", "2020-21", "2021-22", and "2022-23"). Week 29 is called "'We Come to This Place for Magic' Week":
We come to LSC Theaters to laugh, to cry, to care. Because we need that, all of us. That indescribable feeling we get when the lights begin to dim, and we go somewhere we've never been before. Not just entertained, but somehow reborn, together. Dazzling images on a huge silver screen, sound that I can feel. Somehow, heartbreak feels good in a place like this. Our heroes feel like the best parts of us, and stories feel perfect and powerful. Because here, they are. LSC Theaters: We Make Movies Better.
For those of you who don't go to AMC Theaters, here is the inspiration for this week's challenge:
Sofia Coppola makes some interesting decisions when making her version of The Beguiled. She returned to the original novel, stating her movie was not a direct remake of the 1971 version with Clint Eastwood (a movie I apparently saw and didn't like ... according to the IMDB, I rated it 5/10 but I have no memory of this and as far as I can tell I have never written about it). There is a slave in the novel and '71 film that is the only person of color in either ... I'm not certain I understand her reasoning, but Coppola removed this character from the story ("(y)oung girls watch my films and this was not the depiction of an African American character I would want to show them."). Coppola and cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd opted for a 1.66:1 aspect ratio, slightly different from today's standards, to make the movie look claustrophobic. Perhaps most important, Coppola chose to tell this story of a wounded soldier during the Civil War who ends up at a girls school in Virginia from the point of view of the women.
As I say, these are interesting decisions. But in the end, I didn't care for the movie despite those decisions. There's nothing I can put my finger on, but neither could I figure out why this story was being told. It is entirely possible that it's all on me; there is nothing "wrong" with The Beguiled.
Claire Denis (Beau Travail, 35 Shots of Rum) is a favorite director of mine, and I looked forward to Trouble Every Day, but I was aware that it is not as acclaimed as her other movies (it has the lowest Metascore, 40, of any film she has directed). I think that low Metascore is understandable, and Trouble Every Day isn't up to her best. But it's an interesting attempt to make an arty erotic horror movie ... I'm thinking of Park Chan-wook's Thirst, which is a better movie than Trouble Every Day but has a similar blend of sex and gore shown with arty excellence.
Trouble Every Day seems like it is going to be a vampire movie, but it turns into something different, which allows for subtexts that don't necessarily match those of vampire pictures. Denis shows a connection between erotic attraction and cannibalism that is unexpected. It's thought-provoking, but I'm not convinced it goes deeper than the basic connection. Once you get what Denis is doing, there's not much else to say about that connection, leaving an arty horror movie that isn't all that great.
The acting is variable. Béatrice Dalle (Betty Blue) brings her idiosyncratic presence to her scenes, but Vincent Gallo is too low-key ... he struggles with what he has become, but his struggle isn't moving because Gallo is inert. There is also a big plot hole at the beginning (not that horror doesn't often have plot holes): Gallo plays a recently-married man who, we assume, has become intimate with his new wife, but given what we learn of him in the movie, it's impossible for his wife not to have noticed long before. It's hard to suspend disbelief in this case.
Despite that Metascore, the film is #793 on the They Shoot Pictures, Don't They list of the top 1000 films of all time, #103 on the 21st century list.
Love Lies Bleeding isn't exactly different ... it happily borrows from several genres. But things get a bit loony ... the genres aren't ones you think will match. The hype promises sex, violence, action, and lesbians, and the movie delivers. Writer/director Rose Glass (Saint Maud, which was the 100th Geezer Movie) and co-writer Weronika Tofilska don't play it safe, and the movie is the better for it.
The movie is a mess ... a likable mess, but a mess. I expected wall-to-wall action, which isn't Glass's fault ... my expectations were based on the trailer and word of mouth. I thought it took its time getting to cranked-up speed, and there's nothing wrong with that, once I adjusted to it. It delivered on the hype from the start, it's just that the lesbians and sex came first. Once the action begins, though ... whoa! The IMDB Parent's Guide puts it all on the table, with notes like "People are shot with bloody detail, grotesque wounds and disturbing sound effects" and "A woman beats a man and slams his head repeatedly against a tabletop". That latter doesn't even get it, but I'm avoiding spoilers. I'll just say that the make-up people and/or the CGI folks did some impressive work.
The relationship between Lou (Kristen Stewart), who works in a gym, and Jackie (Katy O'Brian), a bodybuilder, is intense and honest. Glass and the actors take that relationship in complex directions ... Lou's past stifles her, and Jackie turns into something scary when she begins shooting up steroids. The entire movie plays like a twisted blend of Thelma and Louise and the Wachowskis' Bound . Even when Lou and Jackie hit a rough spot, we root for them. It helps that Stewart and O'Brian have great chemistry. The supporting cast is also eclectic ... Ed Harris is the bad guy with a ridiculous long-hair wig, and there's Jena Malone (who is in everything, it seems) and Baryshnikov's daughter Anna (shoutout again to the make-up crew ... Anna's teeth must be seen to be believed, even though once you see them, you never want to see them again).
I never got the feeling Glass was out of control ... what makes Love Lies Bleeding a mess is partly the ambition Glass shows. She takes us to surprising places, and what happens to Jackie at the end is a perfect visual representation of female empowerment. (And Glass prepares us for that final scenario, even though we aren't aware of it at the time.)
Reading the above, I feel like the person who wrote it loved the movie, while I actually liked-not-loved it. I prefer Saint Maud for people wanting to check out Rose Glass. At the least, my words here tell me I liked it a lot.
A bit of an oddity, and a real pleasure for Bergman fans, Bergman Island is an edit of three television interviews Marie Nyreröd conducted with Ingmar Bergman at his home on the isolated island of Fårö. Bergman was in his 80s, and Nyreröd is a congenial and astute interviewers. The film is good for what it is, as we watch and listen to one of cinema's greats. Nonetheless, it's not overwhelming as a film ... Nyreröd has cut the original three interviews down by approximately half, and while the two walk around the island and inside Bergman's house, essentially this is two talking heads. Interesting because of the subject matter, worth a look, but otherwise nothing special.
This is the twenty-sixth film I have watched in "My Letterboxd Season Challenge 2023-24", "A 33 week long challenge where the goal each week is to watch a previously unseen feature length film from a specified category." This is the 9th annual challenge, and my fifth time participating (previous years can be found at "2019-20", "2020-21", "2021-22", and "2022-23"). Week 26 is called "Carter Burwell Week":
A movie’s score can have an incredible impact on the success of the film, contributing to the tone and atmosphere of a scene, while also connecting to an audience in such a visceral way that can elevate a viewer’s feelings of a story or a character and overall enjoyment of the film altogether. Carter Burwell is one of the top film composers of our time, scoring every Coen Brothers movie except one, all of Martin McDonagh’s films, three of Spike Jonze’s films, three of Todd Hayne’s films and many, many more. Although he has written many memorable and intoxicating scores and been nominated for three Oscars, he has yet to win the golden statue.
This week let’s honor a composer that has not been honored with a win by many of the most prestigious film awards and watch a movie featuring a score composed by Carter Burwell. Working with so many fantastic filmmakers, there’s no shortage of great films to choose from.
Before this challenge, I couldn't have told you who Carter Burwell was, but it turns out I've seen like 3 dozen of his movies, including favorites like Fargo and Three Kings. I didn't really notice the score in Twilight, which isn't necessarily a bad thing ... it wasn't intrusive.
Catherine Hardwicke directed the interesting Thirteen, which she co-wrote with Nikki Reed (who appears in Twilight as one of the vampires). There is some suggestion that the people involved in the movie didn't know if it would be a success (Kristen Stewart said later, "If you'd told me we were going to make five Twilights when we did the first? I would not have believed you.") The Twilight series of novels by Stephenie Meyer were enormously successful, and I'd think a big audience for the films would be guaranteed. And, in fact, Twilight hit over $400 million worldwide at the box office, leading to four sequels.
Kristen Stewart is usually the best thing in her movies, but I haven't found any of them to be great films, and she was awful in Spencer. Same with Robert Pattinson: he's usually good, his movies are usually OK (but The Lighthouse was awful). They make a good team here, but once again, Twilight isn't a great movie. I am not the audience for it, though, and clearly it connects with a lot of people. The romance between human Bella and vampire Edward is like a scene out of In the Mood for Love ... they are in love, but they can't do anything about it. Hardwicke pours on the smoldering intensity:
I'm glad I finally caught up with this phenomenon, although I'm not inspired to watch the rest of the series. The best I can say for Twilight is that it wasn't awful.
This is the twenty-fifth film I have watched in "My Letterboxd Season Challenge 2023-24", "A 33 week long challenge where the goal each week is to watch a previously unseen feature length film from a specified category." This is the 9th annual challenge, and my fifth time participating (previous years can be found at "2019-20", "2020-21", "2021-22", and "2022-23"). Week 25 is called "Good for Her Week":
Here at the Letterboxd Season Challenge, we support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. To quote Claira Curtis, "Is there really anything better than thinking “good for her” while a woman achieves her dreams or receives an end to her story that is actually satisfying? NO!!!"
Along with awards for Best Supporting Actor Troy Kotsur and Best Adapted Screenplay for director Siân Heder, CODA won the Oscar for Best Picture. By now, I've seen all the nominees, and while CODA was not the Best Picture of 2021 (that would be Summer of Soul, which wasn't nominated), there was only one nominated movie I'd place clearly above CODA (Drive My Car). (There weren't many nominees that were clearly worse than CODA, as well ... I'm a fan of Licorice Pizza, but it's not great, and I'd say the same about others, like The Power of the Dog, West Side Story, and Don't Look Up ... only King Richard of the nominees was an embarrassment in such lofty company.) Yes, as always there were films ignored for Best Picture (Petite Maman, Flee, Judas and the Black Messiah), but CODA earned its consideration ... it's a fine film.
So I have no intention of damning CODA with faint praise ... it's a successful, feel-good movie. It's easy to underestimate it, because in many ways it adheres to a formula (young girl blossoms, is held back by circumstances, but triumphs in the end). But it's really good in its formulaic efforts ... you root for the girl, you root for her family, you get choked up with emotion at the end. And none of the emotions are cheaply elicited ... CODA affects us without pounding us with obvious tear-jerking moments.
Of course, the main difference here is the representation of deaf characters (title is an acronym for Children of Deaf Adults). The deaf characters are played by deaf actors ... Marlee Matlin we know (she is herself an Oscar winner), and Troy Kotsur won an Oscar for this film. These characters are one of the reasons CODA isn't merely formulaic.
Not everyone in the deaf community was happy with CODA, but as someone outside that community, I'd say the overall response was more positive than negative. But I admit, even as I was watching it and liking it, I never thought I was watching a classic. OK, you're a fool if you think a Best Picture Oscar signifies a great movie, but I was surprised that CODA was good-not-great.
Young Emilia Jones was impressive as the girl ... she's new to me. CODA is worth seeing ... I don't want to suggest otherwise.
I kicked off Women's History Month with this Oscar-nominated documentary from Chilean director Maite Alberdi (The Mole Agent), about the impact of Alzheimer’s on Chilean journalist Augusto Góngora, and his wife and caretaker, actress Paulina Urrutia. It's a very intimate look at the couple ... apparently, Alberdi tried to convince Urrutia to make a film, she resisted, but Góngora wanted to proceed, willing to get his story out.
Alberdi chooses a non-chronological approach. We see footage of Góngora and Urrutia, available because they were public figures. There are also home movies (with two kids). Alberdi picks up the story a few years into Góngora's illness, a proverbial fly on the wall with her camera. Both Góngora and Urrutia were used to cameras because of their work, which made the inevitable intrusions more tolerable, and there is little feeling of exploitation.
The movie is both heartbreaking and inspiring. The love the couple has for each other is palpable, and if Alzheimer's has yet to be conquered, the two manage a life together, and interact with the outside world until COVID drives everyone indoors (Alberdi has said that Góngora's health got worse when he couldn't interact socially with others). In the earlier years, Góngora is aware of his situation, even making light of it at one point. This makes his deterioration even sadder, until he's not sure he recognizes his wife.
Alberdi connects this personal story to a social need to work with collective memory. Góngora began his time as a journalist during the Pinochet dictatorship, and he was dedicated to making the truth public whenever possible. As his disease progresses, Góngora's memory of those times fade, but Chileans collectively remember eternally.
Nyad is the first fiction film from noted documentary film makers Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin. The transition is made smooth by the fact that Nyad is based on a true story ... the core of the script has written itself. I'm not sure I could actually explain the difference between a biopic and a film "based on a true story". The biopic suggests a focus on one person rather than a situation or event, and Diana Nyad is certainly an interesting subject for a biopic. But the "true" story is actually the best part of the film, especially the relationship between Nyad (Annette Bening) and her coach, Bonnie Stoll (Jodie Foster). If Nyad were simply a biopic, it would be like so many others, simultaneously slavish to biography and drawn to making reality into more interesting fiction. But whenever the film bogs down, Bening and Foster (and the rest of the cast, notably Rhys Ifans) raise it up again. (Bening and Foster both received Oscar nominations for the film.)
Diana Nyad is similar in some ways to Alex Honnold, the rock climber at the center of Free Solo, which was co-directed by Vasarhelyi, Chin, and others. Honnold has an obsession, and the willpower to do what it takes to accomplish something no one else has ever done. Nyad adds another dimension: she is in her sixties when she decides to swim from Cuba to Key West. Bening's performance is brave ... she's unafraid to show Nyad's harsher side ... and Foster hits the right notes as the friend who can keep Diana on track without taking too much shit.
The technical aspects of Nyad's swim are mindboggling, and the filming techniques are fascinating, as well:
But, as is often the case with this genre, what is left out can be too important to ignore. I think Nyad's accomplishment is amazing, but it matters than her record has never been ratified "due to the lack of independent observers and incomplete records." It matters equally that nothing about this is shown in the film, as if we would be less amazed by Nyad's remarkable marathon swim if we knew there was some controversy involved.
Still, the story works well, as in most sports stories (a powerful ending is the usual for such movies), and the acting makes up for a lot. I've seen all five nominees for the Best Actress Oscar, and Bening certainly belongs in the same company as the others, although I imagine Lily Gladstone will win, Emma Stone was more outrageous, and Carey Mulligan is as good as always. I've seen all of the Supporting Actress nominees except for Danielle Brooks in The Color Purple, and again, Foster is a viable candidate, but I'm guessing Da'Vine Joy Randolph will win that one.