“Civil War,” the latest (and supposedly final) film from writer/director Alex Garland has been the subject of much controversy, none of which is deserved. With the premise of a modern-day Civil War after an extremely divided America finally splits apart, one would think the film explores divisiveness, but it doesn’t. In fact, the film never explains what caused the nation to split apart, nor does it care to spend any of its runtime on the subject matter it was marketed as being inspired by. All the film is is… a movie about photographers.
Garland’s dystopian road trip movie was excruciatingly boring, to the point where my eyes were about to sink into my skull while watching. Nothing of consequence happens for the first hour and thirty minutes. Four war photographers embark on a trek across America, never talking about the divisiveness and rather discussing the philosophies behind their profession. Whenever a suspenseful scene actually happens (and it almost never does), it’s utterly forgettable and unremarkable.
Speaking of the characters, I despised nearly every one of them. I don’t remember their names nor do I care to look them up, so I will refer to each of them by the actors’ names. Kirsten Dunst is the lead, a seasoned photographer who’s learned to be extremely cold in order to take the most visceral pictures possible. Cailee Spaeny is a young photographer who deeply admires Dunst and over the course of the film learns to be emotionally distant like her. Stephen McKinley Henderson is an old man who rides along with them as they consistently berate him for being old and feeble and slow and pathetic. And Wagner Moura is there also.
The single interesting character was one who’s only in the film for five minutes: Jesse Plemons as an unstable soldier who has the photographers at gunpoint. He was compelling for two reasons: one, because Plemons is a master thespian, and two, because I was praying he would execute the photographers to end the brutal misery that is this alleged motion picture.
The character writing is staggeringly awful. Firstly, there’s almost no character development outside of a pathetic attempt at the hardened master-naive pupil dynamic between Dunst and Spaeny, which has been done to death and done better almost every time. Secondly, the characters are so unbelievably stupid and impulsive with all their decisions. They consistently enter scenarios that they should know are dangerous but they proceed through anyway. One could argue that’s because they’re so devoted to their jobs, but at several points all they’re doing is driving through a dangerous place exclusively to get from point A to point B without the need to take photos.
The worst instance of this occurs midway through the film in what is the single most head-bangingly irritating scene I’ve been subjected to in recent memory. At one point, a vehicle drives up to the truck containing our four leads, and as generic banter ensues (we’ll delve deeper into the horrendous dialogue in a moment), a passenger from each one of the trucks randomly decide to crawl into the other respective truck through the car windows. They’re all laughing and smiling and having a jolly ol’ time… in execution this was painfully wishy-washy and happy-go-lucky, demolishing any remnant of logic.
After seeing “Civil War,” I’m not sure if Alex Garland has ever listened to real human conversations before, because the dialogue in this film is bafflingly repugnant. Sometimes the characters go on lengthy pretentious monologues that no human would ever go on, other times they speak in lines so juvenile that they feel like placeholders for a 1980s Schwarzenegger action flick, and other times they spew some of the most melodramatic lines I have ever heard. Seriously, the melodrama is so palpable that it feels like it leaps off the screen, latches onto your head like the facehugger from “Alien,” and shoots acid down your throat.
Also, in regards to the script, I have a sneaking suspicion it was at most fifty pages. For context, the film is about 110 minutes, and since screenplays are normally one page per one minute of screentime, I would initially expect this film’s script to be around 110 pages, but that can’t be. The film is overstuffed to the brim with B-roll. Literal dozens of minutes of shots just lingering on the environment, as if this is the world of “Blade Runner” rather than parts of a random forest outside Atlanta, where this was actually filmed. There is almost no story to this movie, so little that it could barely even fit into a short film, so Garland clearly said, “okay, we’ll make this into a feature by making every scene at least three minutes too long and intercut them with shots of trees.”
After reading and watching several other reviews of “Civil War,” I recognized how, without fail, each critic praised Rob Hardy’s cinematography. Well, you’re not going to read that here. I’ll be the proud outlier. This film is visually repulsive. It looks like Zack Snyder’s abominable “Army of the Dead,” as almost every shot has the most narrow field of view possible. At least 80% of the frame in each shot is out of focus, making for an eternally distracting and irritating visual style that often made the film hard to watch. To make the visuals even stranger, there is consistently a strange rainbow-like outlining around all the figures.
Beyond Jesse Plemons, the only other compliment I can bestow upon “Civil War” is that there are some rare occasions of a so-bad-it’s-good factor, where I couldn’t help but gleefully chuckle at some of the absurdity. In fact, people in my theater were laughing at points in the film that were supposed to be serious, so I know I’m not the only one. The last five minutes when Kirsten Dunst’s character makes a (no spoilers) selfless decision was particularly hysterical.
With “Civil War,” Alex Garland proves he’s been a hack all along. I never found “Ex Machina” to be all that interesting, unlike most people, but like most people I disliked “Annihilation” and thoroughly despised “Men.” Yet he hasn’t made anything as putrefying as “Civil War.” You know a filmmaker’s bad when they somehow get worse with each project. After colossal, unholy, wretched train-wrecks like “Madame Web,” “Drive-Away Dolls,” and now this abomination, the first third of 2024 has proven to be… tough for movies. Really, really tough. One great movie (“Dune: Part Two,” of course) is not enough to satisfy moviegoers when it’s surrounded by a sea of borderline unwatchable motion pictures.
“Drive-Away Dolls” was co-written and directed by Ethan Coen, and it is his first feature made without his longtime filmmaking partner and brother Joel Coen. After having suffered through this absolute abomination against all things good in this world, it could not be clearer that Joel was carrying Ethan’s weight all those years.
And yes, the film was worse than “Madam Web.” This review’s title is accurate. “Madam Web” is hilariously terrible and actually a fun time. “Drive-Away Dolls” is just miserable.
The film follows two lesbian friends, the sex-obsessed Jamie (Margaret Qualley) and the timid Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan), on a road trip, where they stumble across a briefcase linked to a larger conspiracy. Along their travels they’re pursued by a pair of mobsters hired by a corrupt politician to retrieve the briefcase, as it contains a devastating personal artifact that could destroy his reputation. What’s that secret artifact? A dildo constructed from a mold of his genitalia. Does that sound funny to you? If so, you’ll be one of the two people in the world who could ever possibly enjoy this boring, disastrous slog.
There is plenty of discussion around the concept of formulaic, factory filmmaking in Hollywood right now, namely with the Marvel films. While I strongly believe such criticisms toward the MCU are warranted, I find them even more warranted toward “Drive-Away Dolls,” which should be taught in film schools as a textbook case of uninspired and generic storytelling. We’ve seen the exact same story with the exact same beats, plot points, “twists,” and jokes from the Coens before. This film is essentially just an 84-minute reel of their previous filmography, except what Ethan Coen has created is far more grotesque and soulless than anything they made in the past.
This film has nothing to latch onto and feels entirely hollow. It is so damn boring and repetitive and uninspired and spirit-draining. I would say that there wasn’t a single engaging frame of this film if it weren’t for the hallucinatory transition scenes that awoke me from my open-eyed slumber only because of their what-the-hell-was-that?!-ness. For no apparent reason, scenes will be interrupted by acid trip visuals with a cameo from Miley Cyrus of all people. They serve absolutely no point in the film, as they are unrelated to the narrative, characters, themes, or setting. It is some of the most attention deprived, unwieldy directing and editing I have ever seen.
Coen’s woeful screenplay is an absolute dumpster fire full of plot holes. For instance, Bill Camp plays a character named Curlie, who gets clubbed in the head and is left lying on the floor of his office for literal days on end. He has no food, water, assistance… anything. Yet somehow he’s perfectly fine, except for some minor wooziness. How? Then there’s the plot hole in which Pedro Pascal plays a man who gets his eyes pushed into the back of his skull before getting decapitated at the beginning of the film, and later when we see his decapitated head his eyes are perfectly intact. Worst of all, there’s a trope moment where our heroes are captured and tied up rather than just killed by the villains, for no reason other than plot convenience.
Then we have the magisterial talent of Beanie Feldstein, whose irritating and deafening loudness ruins every scene she’s in. Feldstein was funny in “Lady Bird,” but ever since then I’ve only found her to be utterly annoying in subsequent performances. In this film she plays a cop and Jamie’s hate-filled ex-girlfriend, and the script is engineered in a way to provoke that boisterous, screeching performance fron Feldstein. It is a truly, deeply, unbearably painful piece of acting that derailed this already derailed car crash of a film.
So, is there anything good about the movie? Viswanathan was decent, simply because she was the only actor who didn’t annoy me. There was also a joke involving a political ad on a billboard that got a laugh out of me. That’s all.
“Drive-Away Dolls” is joyless and lifeless vermin. It is grueling to watch this motion picture version of crawling in mud beneath barbed wire for 27 hours. There is not a unique bone in this beast’s body. It is excruciatingly dull for 95% of its runtime, the other 5% being moments of repugnant insanity. How this has a positive Rotten Tomatoes score is beyond me. I loathed every millisecond of it, and it is easily the worst film I’ve seen since last year’s “Expend4bles.” At least that movie was so bad it was entertaining. Ethan Coen’s trash is far more bland.
“Dune: Part Two” was co-written and directed by mastermind filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, and is the continuation of the epic sci-fi story based on Frank Herbert’s groundbreaking novel. This film takes place almost immediately after the first, and it follows Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) as he becomes Muad’Dib, the leader of the Fremen, and seeks vengeance against the Harkonnens and the Emperor for murdering his father. Despite his best and noble intentions, Paul is destined to ignite a holy war from this path as the Fremen’s messiah, and he must find a way to prevent a blood-soaked future while still enacting justice for himself and the people of Arrakis.
2021’s “Dune” was my favorite film of that year and one of my favorite films of the past decade. It was visually mesmerizing and innovative, with complex yet easily understandable worldbuilding, an epic scope, and compelling characters. Best of all, it was science fiction for adults that trusted the audience’s intelligence. Plus, Denis Villeneuve is, in my opinion, the best director working today with the most significant filmography of the 2010s and now the 2020s. Thus, “Dune: Part Two” has been my most anticipated film for several years now… and it lived up to the hype. Thank God.
Like the first film, “Dune: Part Two” is a delicious visual feast. Cinematographer Greig Fraser returns with even more gorgeous imagery, especially in some glorious wide shots where he displays so much content on the screen simultaneously and seamlessly. Arrakis feels so tangible due to his wonderful photography. I can feel the sand beneath my feet and the dust blowing into my eyes along with the characters. Fraser is the next Roger Deakins. He’s that talented.
Unlike the first film, which was sparse in its action sequences, “Dune: Part Two” is packed full of them. While it isn’t fight scene after fight scene like many big-budget blockbusters today, the level of spectacle is just as grand as anything we’ve ever seen before. The battles are visceral and brutal. The key to a great battle sequence is the smaller moments among the grand chaotic backdrop. For instance, in “The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King,” the most memorable part of the first Gondor battle is when the Orc leader calmly takes one step back to avoid a giant boulder smashing him. It’s utterly badass, and “Dune: Part Two” has several such moments in each battle sequence that will surely be remembered throughout film history. None of this is to say “Dune: Part Two” just does more of the same things we’ve seen before; there are plenty of groundbreaking unprecedented visuals in the film, especially with a certain flying piece of weaponry (no spoilers) that’s simultaneously awesome and horrifying.
Whereas 2021’s “Dune” was about an adolescent forced to quickly become a matured adult after his family is torn apart, “Dune: Part Two” is a far less archetypal story. Instead, the heart of this film is its deconstruction of the messiah figure. Paul is consistently faced with the dangers of his role and how the universe seems to be forcing him into great power that leads to great calamity. The entire film we, alongside his love interest Chani (Zendaya, who we’ll talk more about later), are rooting for him to balance the demands of leadership without becoming a source of bloodshed, and his roller coaster of a path is absolutely invigorating and surprisingly frightening. Paul is less of a Luke Skywalker hero and far more of an Anakin Skywalker antihero, and this film is all the more emotional, fascinating, and thought-provoking for that. It is a wonderful commentary on faith, politics, propaganda, and how we subjectively decide who is fit to rule us. This is not your typical science-fiction sequel, and while this subverts expectations (especially in its ending), I promise it is not at all in a Rian Johnson The Last Jedi manner.
The performances across the board are absolutely fantastic. This is Timothée Chalamet’s strongest work yet, as he subtly balances the heroism with the terrifying would-be-tyrannical nature of his character. Zendaya’s Chani acts as the audience’s point of view character, through whom we watch Paul’s journey. The shift in emphasis from the mother-son relationship in the first film to the romance in this film not only alters the narrative thrust, but how we interpret the increasingly complicated and flawed Paul. Speaking of the mother-son dynamic at the heart of the first film, Rebecca Fergusson’s performance as Lady Jessica is shockingly different this time around. Whereas Jessica was previously the loving protective mother who lamented the burden of power she put on her son, in this film she is forced to become a colder figure who loses her maternal nature and instead is a far more intimidating character, much like the Reverend Mother. Fergusson’s range is astounding.
Of course, the standout performance everyone is raving about is Austin Butler as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, a new character introduced as Paul’s rival for rule over Arrakis. The praise is well-deserved, as Butler is unrecognizable in this role. Feyd is essentially the polar opposite of Elvis. This is a sadistic, cunning, Joker-like character who revels in the violence and chaos Paul desperately tries to avoid, making for a brilliant contrast between the two foes. Feyd is consistently unpredictable; whenever he walks into a room you never know what will happen. Sometimes he’ll kill people for sport and other times over apathetic reasons like testing out a new blade. Sometimes he won’t kill but rather intimidates those around him. The best part about Feyd, however, is that he isn’t an overly boisterous character. Not that Butler is at all quiet in his performance (he has a satanic war-cry), but he is still relatively understated for most of his scenes, savoring his sparse lines with an (I’m using this word again and for good reason) unrecognizable voice that sounds like he’s gargling knives. The man is a true chameleon and easily one of the best actors of his generation. It is almost a shame just how good he is because he outacts most of his scene partners, occasionally to the detriment of the film.
To answer the question on everyone’s mind: is “Dune: Part Two” better than the first? Honestly, no. Although the sequel is even more gorgeous, exciting, and grandiose than the first, it is a little rushed, and that’s where it stumbles in comparison to its predecessor. The first film has a cleaner, streamlined narrative and a more well-suited runtime. In order to attain the fast pacing he wanted for “Dune: Part Two,” Villeneuve went too far and the film feels like it has scenes missing. To me, “Dune: Part Two” is a 3-hour movie with 15 minutes of the third act mysteriously absent. The movie races to get to the final battle, and as a result, certain details leading up to the climax are extremely underdeveloped or feel contrived and convenient. I know Villeneuve is passionate about never releasing deleted scenes, but I strongly feel that “Dune: Part Two” needed some of that extra breathing room. I’m sure plenty of viewers will feel differently from me, namely those who didn’t appreciate the methodical pacing of the first and prefer the more conventional pacing of this film. I just think that with a story as complex as this, there needs to be sufficient time dedicated to each element of the plot. It is extraordinarily rare for me to actually want a film to be even longer, however, so in a way this is all a backhanded compliment.
After watching “Dune: Part Two,” I finally got to release that deep breath I had been holding for years. Like Matt Reeves’ two “Planet of the Apes” films, Villeneuve’s sci-fi epics are truly special blockbuster films that breakout from the corporate conveyor belt genre. Villeneuve trusts the audience to be dedicated viewers looking for more than mere spectacle, and he utilizes the best of modern technology to elicit thought and emotion from us just as well as any arthouse film does. Needless to say, I cannot wait for the third “Dune” film. If it’s as phenomenal as the first two, Villeneuve’s “Dune” trilogy will go down in cinema history as not just one of the greatest trilogies, but one of the greatest filmmaking achievements.
The Oscars. The defining declaration of a film’s quality, except not at all. The Academy Awards consistently frustrate me (especially after last year’s abominable slate of winners), yet for whatever reason I oddly adore the ceremony and the pretentious, insignificant chaos that is the awards race. So, given that we’re mere weeks away from the 2024 Oscars and I’m admittedly excited, it’s time to rank all 10 Best Picture nominees.
10. Maestro
Every year the Oscars have one distinctly abysmal Best Picture nominee that makes me go, “WHAT.” 2022 had “Don’t Look Up,” 2023 had “Triangle of Sadness,” and now 2024 has… Bradley Cooper begs for an Oscar for two hours. Yes, “Maestro” is visually breathtaking. Yes, Carey Mulligan is magnificent. But those elements cannot make up for “Maestro” being the most egregious Oscar bait I’ve seen in years, maybe ever. The film has zero emotional resonance due to its bland and underdeveloped screenplay. I feel like I knew more about Leonard Bernstein before I watched this film than after. You wouldn’t know Bernstein was an interesting person just by watching this dumpster fire. Nothing happens in the movie. Not a thing. “Maestro” actively challenges you to stay awake. It is so mind-numbingly dull and lacks any artistic merit beneath the surface level visuals. Watching this film is like being dead for two hours — it’s that brutally boring. I despised Cooper’s “look at me, I’m acting!” dreck to oblivion. There is no excuse for releasing a feature length Oscar reel. Not to be that guy, but I’m going to be that guy: this isn’t cinema. This isn’t a real movie. This isn’t acceptable. This is a soulless waste of time that is genuinely one of the worst films of the year.
9. Killers of the Flower Moon
Lily Gladstone’s performance as Mollie Burkhart is mesmerizing. She captures strength and frailty, love and dread, hope and cynicism — all in the same performance, often at the same time. This is brilliant work and I’m elated that she’s earned so much praise for it. Likewise, Robert De Niro gave his best performance of the 21st century, maybe even beyond that, as the skin-crawling William King Hale. However, those performances can’t make up for Martin Scorsese’s self-indulgent misfire. I apologize in advance for what will be a lengthy rant, but I must get my arguments across.
I despise the peer pressure to automatically bow down to Scorsese and his work, even when it’s deeply flawed like “Killers of the Flower Moon.” Not only is this movie at least an hour and a half too long, but it is set for failure from the get-go by focusing on a thoroughly uninteresting, one-dimensional, idiotic, and irritating character in Ernest Burkhart, when the real focus should have been on Mollie/the Osage, or at least on the FBI like the book this was based on. But of course, Scorsese wanted to work with his buddies and have Leonardo DiCaprio play the lead, and for whatever reason DiCaprio was unwilling to play FBI agent Tom White, who he was originally supposed to play, and instead wanted to portray this evil plank of wood moron. The first two hours are just the same plot point repeated over and over again: Ernest meets up with a shady character, asks him to kill an Osage member, the guy is hesitant but agrees, and then we see him shoot someone. The film beats you over the head again and again. Defenders of the film say that the repetitiveness demonstrates how these murders became a cycle and almost a way of life, but I found that effort unsuccessful. Since the film is from Ernest’s perspective and the evils just follow the same predictable structure, it isn’t engaging or impactful, and thus I unfortunately didn’t feel the emotions Scorsese attempted (or claimed to have attempted) to elicit.
Let’s talk more about Marty. This is criminally self-indulgent and self-absorbed direction, giving himself four cameos (three offscreen voiceovers and that “look at me” appearance at the end). How does that demonstrate his empathy for the Osage, or prove he acknowledges and repents his exploiting tragedy for entertainment like he claims? If that was true, why not make a documentary instead? Why insert himself offscreen three times when he easily could have hired someone else? Why focus the story on Ernest rather than on the Osage? Why pay his pal Leo $40 million if this came from a genuine and well-meaning place rather than a self-serving one? I’m tired of the discourse that this is Scorsese’s latest masterpiece or that it’s his most important film. It could have been his most important film, but he approached it from the wrong angle, both in the screenplay (I’m pleasantly surprised and grateful that the Oscars didn’t nominate this script) and the self-aggrandizing nature of the bloated runtime, cameos, and “I want to work with my buddies” approach. I won’t apologize for finding this film to be a frustrating disappointment and an acidic blotch on Scorsese’s career. It is overlong, repetitive, and full of questionable at best filmmaking choices (such as the exposition dump ending and Brendan Fraser’s razzie-worthy performance — how did he win an Oscar?). Scorsese has given us some all-time classics, but “Killers of the Flower Moon” isn’t one of them. We have to hold him to the same standard as all other filmmakers and criticize his work when appropriate.
8. Barbie
I’m mixed on this one. “Barbie” excels in its direction and performances, but dizzily falters in its messy screenplay that — let’s be honest — is just “The Lego Movie.” On a technical level, this film is truly an achievement. Barbieland is perfectly crafted with every minute detail given clear thought and attention. It is a world one can’t help but want to jump into and explore because Greta Gerwig flawlessly transports us and makes us feel like we know the landscape just as well as the dolls who inhabit it. Gerwig’s direction is inarguably some of the year’s best, not only with her brilliant technical precision but in how she handles the whimsical tone and performances. Everyone has raved about Ryan Gosling as Ken (and rightfully so), but I actually thought Margot Robbie’s performance was the standout, as she balanced the doll mannerisms with a deep vulnerability and innocence.
However, that screenplay needed some serious work. As soon as we travel to the real world, the narrative is a jumbled mess full of plot holes (How does the portal between the worlds work? Can anyone in the real world stumble into Barbieland as long as they have roller skates and sway into that exact location in Los Angeles?). Then there’s the unruly three act structure. Normally in films the second act is the longest, with the first introducing us to the characters and conflict, the second exploring the conflict, and the third concluding the film with a climax and resolution. With “Barbie,” there is a proper first act, but the second act is just the real world elements which only last for about 25 minutes, before we go back to Barbieland in the one-hour-long third act for a climax that drags and drags and drags. The film just would not end. Finally, let’s discuss the messaging, specifically the execution. I have no interest in getting into the culture war debate on whether “Barbie” is man-hating — everyone has their own interpretation and I honestly don’t care enough to comment on it. What I do care about is the quality of the satirical writing. Unfortunately, the execution of the messaging is so in-your-face, extreme, and repetitious, with a lazy ending in which the conflict is resolved by people ranting at others and explicitly stating the messages.
7. American Fiction
“American Fiction” easily has the smartest premise of the year. Unfortunately, it only partially lives up to its ambitions as a much-needed apolitical satire on race, because it only cares about being said satire for 40% of its runtime. The other 60% is a wildly inferior Hallmark Channel family melodrama distracted from the brilliant message on how insecure, implicitly racist white people decide what constitutes a “black story” for African Americans. Unfortunately, in between the satire we have to sit through our protagonist Monk mourning his deceased sister, putting his dementia-ridden mother in a nursing home, dealing with his drug-addicted brother, and fostering a romance with a neighbor. All of these miserably sappy interactions create an unruly ADHD screenplay that lacks focus. We go from a hilarious scene to a brain-stimulating conversation on race between two black authors to… Monk’s family housekeeper marrying a straight-out-of-a-sitcom local cop to his brother throwing a wacky house party. Why? Who cares?
There is a ton of potential in this story, much of which is executed to comedic perfection. Some of the best scenes out of any movie this year come from “American Fiction,” so it’s immensely frustrating whenever we cut away to the Hallmark sludge. Honestly, each time the film embraces the satire, it succeeds with flying colors. Every single joke in those sections lands, which is something almost no comedy accomplishes. “American Fiction” could have and should have been great, but it never reached that greatness because it couldn’t recognize its own potential.
6. Anatomy of a Fall
To be clear, there is a chasm in quality between this film and the previous four. “Anatomy of a Fall” is actually solid, whereas those other movies were either atrocious (“Maestro”), decent but flawed (“American Fiction”), or somewhere in between (“Killers of the Flower Moon” and “Barbie”). Justine Triet’s Palme d’Or winning film about a woman put on trial for the suspicious death of her husband only lives up to its acclaim after the first hour. For a long time, the film moves at an incredibly slow pace, one which is far more meandering than methodical. However, once the trial begins, the film dramatically picks up speed and becomes absolutely engrossing for the next hour and a half. The case is so thoroughly detailed to the point where you forget this is a fictional story and feel like you’re watching real court proceedings, albeit with a filmmaking flourish. Sandra Hüller is phenomenal in the film, able to play sympathetic and despicable simultaneously. The beauty of “Anatomy of a Fall” is that the audience never finds out whether she actually murdered her husband or not, and that ambiguity is the key to distinguishing the film from all other courtroom dramas.
5. Poor Things
We have finally reached the tier of films that I consider well-deserving of a Best Picture nomination. “Poor Things” is a wonderfully strange movie, packed to the brim with creativity and optimistic energy to match its unforgettable lead character Bella Baxter. Emma Stone’s Bella is in many ways the perfect protagonist: she is effortlessly likable while being just as flawed and strange as the rest of us. The screenplay by Tony McNamara impeccably balances slapstick comedy with Hero’s Journey storytelling, making for a one-of-a-kind demented Frankenstein story full of heart, imaginative visuals, and lots and lots of sex (this film is going to be uncomfortable for a lot of viewers). Emma Stone brings so much charisma and vulnerability to the character. She perfectly captures Bella’s naivety at the beginning of her journey, her torment in the middle, and her secure adulthood at the end. As Bella matures in each scene, Stone makes gradual alterations to her performance following along with the character’s evolution. It really feels like we’re watching someone mature from an infant to an adult at an accelerated — but never rushed — pace. Overall “Poor Things” has some of the best character writing and character acting of the year, and I pray Emma Stone gets a well-deserved Oscar for her fearless and unprecedented work.
Unfortunately, “Poor Things” is held back by its 2 hour and 20 minute runtime. At about the 2 hour mark it reaches a natural satisfying conclusion and suddenly decides to backtrack into a new subplot before it can actually end. Bella’s arc was already completed and I suspect the seemingly tacked-on ending was only there to leave off the film with an unnecessarily larger climax. The film truly overstays its welcome to the point where the final 20 minutes are a slog to get through, and I wish it stuck the landing better.
4. The Zone of Interest
“The Zone of Interest” is a methodical and minimalist study of evil in its realest form: apathy. The film follows Rudolf Höss and his family as they live in a peaceful home with a gorgeous garden and a charming little pool, hosting delightful parties with friends and family… all while directly bordering the Auschwitz concentration camp. Höss, the commandant of the camp, wakes up, goes to work, returns home, reads his children bedtime stories, and sleeps by his wife. The family could not be more stereotypical, and the fact that they can function in such a simple manner while slavery and mass genocide are right beside them is the true horror. Mastermind writer/director Jonathan Glazer shoots the film exclusively from their peaceful perspective and never shows us the interior of Auschwitz. What he does present is just as, if not more, terrifying: the sounds. In almost every scene is a variety of screams, gunshots, and burnings we hear but never witness. The film’s intentional repugnance is propelled by Mica Levi’s wholly unique (but very sparingly used) score that can only be described as the sound of evil. Levi’s snub for Best Original Score is one of the year’s most egregious.
Glazer’s film is the most frightening and skin-crawling film I’ve seen in a very, very long time. He places the audience right beside the lowest scum of the earth, making us feel implicit in their atrocities and even challenging us to reflect on our own lives. “The Zone of Interest” is a brutal and effective representation of the Holocaust and pure human evil.
3. The Holdovers
We need more movies like this. That phrase has become unbearably overused, but in the case of Alexander Payne’s latest dramedy “The Holdovers,” it is actually applicable. The age of heartwarming character-based films has basically been dead for the past 15 or 20 years, and wasn’t even all that prominent post-1980s. “The Holdovers” is not only aware but proud of its uniqueness, as its visual and auditory style feel straight out of the 1970s with a delightful screenplay straight out of the 1980s. The gruff sound design and grainy images are utterly transportive. The characters are so rich and exciting to spend time with, and Payne’s ability to bring out the emotions really shines here, especially during the simultaneously inspiring and gut-punching ending when star Paul Giamatti puts his massive acting chops on full display. This is a delightful holiday film that I’m positive will stand the test of time to become a Christmas classic.
2. Oppenheimer
Like everyone else who experienced “Oppenheimer,” I was astounded. Astounded by Cillian Murphy’s career-defining performance. Astounded by Hoyte van Hoytema’s hauntingly beautiful cinematography. Astounded by the best direction of Nolan’s career. Astounded by its staying power. Oppenheimer’s greek tragedy as the American Prometheus demands to be told on the big screen and Nolan greatly surpassed my admittedly apprehensive expectations. Throughout the film it is abundantly clear how passionate Nolan feels about the subject matter, but most importantly he never forces a stance on the audience. He portrays Oppenheimer as he really was: a brilliant and sympathetic yet deeply flawed man who became his own worst enemy due to his indecisiveness. He is never portrayed as the hero nor the villain, and each viewer is left to create their own interpretation.
Cillian Murphy truly gave the performance of a lifetime here. The man is in almost every scene and in each one he’s able to make Oppenheimer even more compelling than the last. Through subtle performance and those iconic eyes, we experience so much yet somehow so little of Oppenheimer’s thoughts. The subdued performance complements Nolan’s ambiguous “up-to-the-audience” approach perfectly, and if Murphy doesn’t win Best Actor (and I fear he won’t), that will be yet another massive blemish on the Academy’s record. This is the kind of work that will be studied in decades to come.
1. Past Lives
Celine Song’s quiet and universally relatable feature debut about relationships and the what-could-have-been’s of life left me self-reflecting more than any other film this year. The “Past Lives” screenplay is some of the most thematically rich writing put to screen over the last decade or more. With just three characters and impeccable dialogue, Song creates a beautiful yet tragic love story that’s more about lost opportunities and pondering whether one has made the right decisions than it is about plain romance. “Past Lives” is constructed on a foundation of extreme realism without a speck of forced romantic drama, in which each character is devastatingly palpable and sympathetic. After a while, you forget you’re viewing a film and feel like you’re just people-watching, much like the offscreen couple whose voices we hear at the beginning: “Who do you think they are to each other?”
No film this year was more emotional, devastating, relatable, or impactful than “Past Lives.” I cannot recommend this movie enough. This is one of those very rare films that every viewer can enjoy and take something away from. “Past Lives” exemplifies the best of storytelling and proves why cinema is so significant.
Click here to read my ranking of the 2023 Best Picture nominees!
In spirit of the upcoming 96th Academy Awards and how the Oscars often differ from my own opinions, I figured I’d start my own self-aggrandizing annual film awards: The Meaningless Movie Awards! Here, I’ll be going over my subjective selections of both the best and worst filmmaking achievements of 2023.
Worst of 2023:
Most Overrated Film:
“Killers of the Flower Moon”
“Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse”
“John Wick: Chapter 4”
“Maestro”
“Godzilla Minus One”
Most Egregious Runtime:
“Beau is Afraid”
“Killers of the Flower Moon”
“Paint” (should have been 5 seconds long)
“Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse”
“John Wick: Chapter 4”
Worst Screenplay:
Brit McAdams, “Paint”
Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick, Chris McKenna, and Eric Sommers, “Ghosted”
Ari Aster, “Beau is Afraid”
Jeff Loveness, “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania”
Kurt Wimmer, Tad Daggerhart, Max Adams, “Expend4bles”
Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo, “Dumb Money” (I despised so many screenplays this year, so I had to put 6)
Worst Performance:
Owen Wilson, “Paint”
50 Cent, “Expend4bles”
Anthony Ramos and Talia Ryder, “Dumb Money” (TIE)
Wendi McLendon-Covey, “Paint”
Sofia Boutella, “Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire”
Worst Director:
Brit McAdams, “Paint”
Ari Aster, “Beau is Afraid”
Scott Waugh, “Expend4bles”
Dexter Fletcher, “Ghosted”
Peyton Reed, “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania”
Worst Film:
“Paint”
“Ghosted”
“Beau is Afraid”
“Hypnotic”
“Expend4bles”
“Dumb Money”
“Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania”
“The Exorcist: Believer”
“Meg 2: The Trench”
“Maestro”
Best of 2023:
Best Editing:
Jennifer Lame, “Oppenheimer”
Eddie Hamilton, “Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One”
Kirk Baxter, “The Killer”
Laurent Sénéchal, “Anatomy of a Fall”
William Goldenberg, “Air”
Best Original Score:
Ludwig Göransson, “Oppenheimer”
Mica Levi, “The Zone of Interest”
Jerskin Fendrix, “Poor Things”
Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, “The Killer”
Christopher Bear and Daniel Rossen, “Past Lives”
Best Cinematography:
Hoyte van Hoytema, “Oppenheimer”
Matthew Libatique, “Maestro”
Linus Sandgren, “Saltburn”
Łukasz Żal, “The Zone of Interest”
Oren Soffer and Greig Fraser, “The Creator”
Best Adapted Screenplay:
Matt Johnson and Matthew Miller, “BlackBerry”
Christopher Nolan, “Oppenheimer”
Tony McNamara, “Poor Things”
Andrew Kevin Walker, “The Killer”
Kelly Fremon Craig, “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.”
Best Original Screenplay:
Celine Song, “Past Lives”
David Hemingson, “The Holdovers”
Alex Convery, “Air”
Samy Burch and Alex Mechanik, “May December”
Sean Durkin, “The Iron Claw”
Best Supporting Actor:
Glenn Howerton, “BlackBerry”
Charles Melton, “May December”
Robert De Niro, “Killers of the Flower Moon”
John Magaro, “Past Lives”
Robert Downey Jr., “Oppenheimer”
Best Supporting Actress:
Da’Vine Joy Randolph, “The Holdovers”
Sandra Hüller, “The Zone of Interest”
Penélope Cruz, “Ferrari”
Rachel McAdams, “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.”
“Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters” by writer-director Paul Schrader is undoubtedly the most unique biopic ever crafted. Released in 1985, the film tells the true story of the infamous and massively acclaimed Japanese author Yukio Mishima, a complicated man (to the say the least) who evolved from an innocent young boy into a radical political figure, delivering what he believed to be the ultimate sacrifice on November 25, 1970. Yet his story is not told in the conventional “this happened, then this happened, and finally this happened” manner. Instead, the film cuts between black-&-white sequences of Mishima (played masterfully by Ken Ogata) narrating brief excerpts of his life and play-like reenactments of three of his novels to demonstrate how he expressed the most intimate parts of himself through his work.
The reenactments of the novels The Temple of the Golden Pavilion (in Chapter 1: Beauty), Kyoko’s House (in Chapter 2: Art), and Runaway Horses (in Chapter 3: Action) reveal more information about Mishima’s belief system, internal struggles, and contradictions than the moments which follow Mishima in the real world. Over the movie’s first three chapters, the self-insert characters in each book reflect a core principle or struggle of Mishima’s, namely sexual inadequacy, bodily perfection, and fascism (this guy was dangerously out there, but the film never stops to glorify or denounce Mishima — a non-stance stance all biopics should take). During the black-&-white sequences of the real Mishima which interrupt the book reenactments, we see a more minimalist and cold point of view. Thus, for the majority of the film, we know more about Mishima when we don’t actually watch him, which is such a unique concept.
The final chapter, Harmony of Pen and Sword, recounts Mishima’s final day with a singular timeline in color, but without the abstract theater style, thus combining the parallel storylines and balancing the realism of the black-&-white sequences with the emotion of the book sequences. Mishima is forced to face how the world actually perceives him and what his true place is more than ever before during this fourth chapter, leaving the audience pondering whether his final choice gave his life more or less meaning.
Beyond Schrader and Mishima’s exquisite pages, the film also thrives in its visuals and sound. John Bailey’s cinematography is truly one of a kind. His brilliant use of color, specifically contrasting deep blacks with colorful blues, reds, and golden yellows create a dreamlike landscape that captures imagination itself. Of course, his work is amplified by the stellar art direction and production design, which are almost certainly the best I’ve ever seen. The reenactments are staged on purposefully obvious sets with painted-on nature and limited space for the actors to move around in. You can even see the dents, cracks, and creases in the walls, yet the visuals and style are so powerful that it’s impossible not to buy into and appreciate them. There is a strange magic to the sets, possibly because they illustrate the confined space of the mind or simply because they elicit the feeling of a pop-up book.
Then there’s Phillip Glass’s music. Wow. This is one of the greatest scores in cinema history. Stunning, moving, exhilarating, devastating, and majestic all at the same time. I know I sound pretentious in saying that, but trust me, the score is that great. The film would not be as magical or transportive without that booming music elevating it throughout.
Usually I avoid using the word “poetic” to describe movies, but I’ll make an exception for “Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters.” This film accomplishes something no other movie has done before or since, which is the combination of the literature and motion picture mediums into a whole new form of storytelling, one that I struggle to define in a single word.
“Expend4bles” (pronounced “Expend-four-bles,” of course) is the fourth and unequivocally final film in the 13-year-old action franchise. The first 3 films were built on the idea of bringing together ‘80s and ‘90s action stars, led by the great Sylvester Stallone. That premise is catastrophically outdated, as the age of the movie star is over. So, the makers of this film were unconcerned with the original foundation of the franchise and thus gave Stallone a smaller role, instead emphasizing a wannabe Marvel action flick over the throwback gimmick. The film, released in September 2023, was made for $100 million and grossed a whopping $51 million. In the year of the flopbusters, “Expend4bles” was one of the most devastating. Objectively, this is a complete train wreck of embarrassing incompetence in front of and behind the camera… but I loved the atrocity.
“Expend4bles” fails at every level, generally due to its arguably unprecedented laziness. Let’s start with the acting, or lack there of. At their best, the actors are sleepwalking, and at their worst, they’re hysterical — namely Randy Couture and 50 Cent. Couture seems to actually be trying, but his background as a UFC fighter who decided to become an actor is glaringly apparent. He delivers an almost jolly performance, not in the sense that his character is happy-go-lucky, but more in the sense that Couture’s proud of himself for being able to utter words. Obviously, I want Couture to be in all films from now on.
But the true star here is 50 Cent. WOW. I am shaken from that powerhouse performance. In every single one of his scenes, it seems like he didn’t read the script and instead had an earpiece telling him what to say without any context. He exclaims banger one-liners like “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” as if he’s attending a funeral.
The actors’ egos are even funnier than their performances — the cast evidently used this film to congratulate themselves for 90 minutes. Starting with the mind-numbing 50 Cent, there’s a scene in which his song “P.I.M.P.” unironically plays with his character in the frame. As soon as I heard it, I was gasping for air laughing so hard. Yet that’s not all. By far the best example of narcissism — and the most unintentionally hysterical scene in the movie — is courtesy of Jason Statham. In the middle of the movie, Statham’s character Christmas (that’s his actual name) is filmed on a live-stream while working security at a wealthy influencer’s party. Throughout the stream, we see the viewers typing the thirstiest comments in the chat; clearly, Statham demanded the writers insert said comments to inflate his ego. Here are just some of the cringeworthy bangers (word for word):
“He’s hottt!”
“I want his baby!”
“Bet he has a big 🍆”
“Sexy mofo ✋”
“I think I’m pregnant 🔥🔥🔥”
“GOD. DAMN. HE IS HOTTTT!!!”
Now let’s delve into the Shakespearean dialogue of “Expend4bles.” As previously mentioned, the writers clearly tried to rip off the MCU quips but with an R-rated twist… and once again failed disastrously. Mr. Cent unironically asks “snitches get stitches, right?,” characters talk extensively about getting urinated on, and Megan Fox sits on Statham’s face, proclaiming “this was always my favorite seat in the house.” Disgusting, idiotic, repulsive, unforgivable… stellar writing.
The visuals are equally stellar. If the cast and crew didn’t shoot the entire film inside a warehouse, I’d be astounded, because all of the outdoor shots are green screened to oblivion. My personal favorite contains Oscar-worthy thespian 50 Cent atop a tank, appearing as if he woke up from a 48-year-long slumber, with the sky awkwardly shifting behind him. To make matters worse (or better, if you’re watching this for laughs like me), the entire second half takes place on the deck of a boat, so Statham and company run around in front of what looks like tissue paper. Why couldn’t they have shot on-location instead? They had $100 million, yet they couldn’t afford to do so? The only explanation is that 98% of the budget went toward the actors.
On top of the remarkable green screen, we have unbelievably cheap CG blood squibs that defy the laws of physics, explosions that seem drawn by an orange sharpie, and a CG aircraft carrier that’s “Birdemic” levels of bad. It is as if the producers snatched someone who’s never seen a computer before, shoved them in front of one, and told them to do their best in 45 minutes.
What a tragedy that I didn’t see “Expend4bles” when it was first released. If I knew it would be this hilariously bad I would’ve snuck into the world premiere instead of just watching and reviewing it several months later. That said, I still saw it, and while it’s certainly an abomination against everything good in this world, it’s also a world-class comedic experience. Please, go see it, and buy every 50 Cent album as soon as possible.
2023 has been a rollercoaster year for cinema, not only because of all the “flopbusters” but also because of the many disappointments. However, there were still plenty of gems this year, so it’s time to rank the 10 best movies of 2023 (without having seen “The Zone of Interest,” as it’s barely in release). Let’s start with some honorable mentions:
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
Asteroid City
Creed III
Poor Things (super close to making the top 10)
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem
10. May December
Director Todd Haynes’ study of manipulation and abuse is one of the most powerful dramas of the year. The film follows an actress named Elizabeth Berry as she shadows Gracie Atherton-Yoo for a biopic about the latter. At 36 years old, Gracie had sex with 13-year-old Joe Yoo, gave birth to his child, and later married him once he became an adult. Needless to say, “May December” tackles serious subject matter, and it does so with flying colors due to the layered screenplay and top-tier cast (although it suffers from a horrendously inappropriate and melodramatic score). The script explores the subject matter through multiple perspectives and illustrates how manipulation became addictive to not only Gracie but also Elizabeth, who will stop at nothing to achieve the best performance possible.
All of this is heightened by the stellar performances, namely Natalie Portman as Elizabeth and Charles Melton as Joe. Portman plays Elizabeth with an almost seductive artificiality, as Elizabeth doesn’t have her own personality, but rather personas used to obtain what she wants out of different people. Her performance is a masterclass in subtlety. Charles Melton is the heart of the film as Joe, delivering a deeply tragic performance as someone who never fully experienced a proper childhood and is still emotionally abused as an adult. Melton defies his massive frame with a pathetic and quiet demeanor that encapsulates all we need to know about Joe’s mental state.
9. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3
Although 2023 saw the beginning of the end for superhero movies atop the disastrous sludge released by the MCU, James Gunn’s heartbreaking conclusion to his “Guardians of the Galaxy” trilogy broke Marvel’s losing streak. This is one of the most emotional movies of the year. Rocket’s origin is perfect tragedy storytelling. Although I knew the characters introduced in the Rocket flashbacks likely died before the present storyline, as I watched those loving creatures their deaths actually became surprising. My cynicism faded away and was replaced by empathy for Lylla, Teefs, and Floor. Beyond the Rocket elements, the present storyline is also incredibly well written, with all characters going on their own fully formed character arcs, most notably Drax and Starlord. Speaking of the latter, Chris Pratt’s performance as Starlord might be the best of his entire career.
“Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3” is a truly special superhero film, as it consistently emphasizes character and heart over action and universe-ending stakes. Plus, the movie contains one of the greatest villain lines in the history of cinema: “There is no God. That’s why I stepped in.”
8. The Iron Claw
While I don’t think “The Iron Claw” is the masterpiece many have claimed, it’s still a great and deeply tragic film about familial bonds, competitiveness, and unfulfillment. The film details the triumphs and devastations of the real-life Von Erich wrestling family, and I implore those who haven’t seen the movie or heard of the “Curse of the Von Erichs” to avoid the tempting Wikipedia search. The dark turns are absolutely gut-wrenching and best experienced without knowing about them going in. “The Iron Claw” is a deeply intimate look at these real-life figures, increasing in quality as the tone darkens, leading up to arguably the best movie ending of the year with the most heartbreaking monologue of the year, delivered by an Oscar nomination-worthy Zac Efron.
7. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One
Never doubt Tom Cruise. Once again, he has delivered an exhilarating film built on gloriously practical action. All of the action sequences are unforgettable, especially the sweat-inducing train car escape. Beyond the stellar action, this M:I installment is easily the most emotional and weighty. You feel the stakes in the drama, specifically because of the bold and absolutely correct choice of killing off one of the franchise’s staple characters. Additionally, the introduction of Hayley Atwell’s snarky thief Grace brought a welcome and surprisingly powerful character arc to this previously thrills-over-emotion franchise. Now, is Dead Reckoning better than Fallout? No, but arguably no action film reaches Fallout‘s heights. It’s incredible how this franchise has consistently maintained such a high level of quality, and I have full faith in Cruise and company to deliver once again with the eighth film.
6. The Killer
David Fincher’s “The Killer” follows a precise, sardonic, and rigorous assassin — essentially, Fincher if he was a mercenary instead of a filmmaker. Fincher does psychological thrillers better than any director, and he proves that once again with his latest film. Michael Fassbender is excellent as the unnamed titular character, somehow both gentle and unsettling at all times. He has very little spoken dialogue, and instead we hear his inner-monologues throughout the film in which he comments on his strategy, rules, and beliefs. This is an incredibly sick-minded character with no moral code, yet I could never take my eyes off him. While some might find “The Killer” monotonous because it’s simply two hours following the routine of an assassin after a job gone wrong, I thought it was endlessly engrossing.
5. BlackBerry
With the most riveting and anxiety-inducing screenplay of the year, writer-director Matt Johnson delivered a phenomenal satire on big tech in his movie about the rise and calamitous fall of the world’s first smartphone. “BlackBerry” certainly takes inspiration from previous tech biopics like “The Social Network” and “Steve Jobs,” but due to its accelerating pace and comedic edge, it stands out. The film shines brightest in its third act reminiscent of the chaotic finale of “GoodFellas,” when the characters pay for their impulsive mistakes in an explosive everything-goes-to-hell conclusion. Of course, no discussion of “BlackBerry” is complete without mentioning Glenn Howerton’s work as vicious co-CEO Jim Balsillie, which is my favorite performance of the year. Howerton is hilarious with his animalistic rage and irritated one-liners (“Thirst is a sign of weakness.”), but also quite pitiful. Ultimately, this is a character who makes all of his decisions based on revenge and a constant need to prove himself. Yes, Howerton’s performance is incredibly loud, but more importantly there’s an insecurity beneath his glaring eyes during the quiet moments which produces a simultaneously sympathetic and despicable character.
“BlackBerry” is an exhilarating film that deserves way more attention than it’s getting, so if you haven’t seen it, please do.
4. Air
Is “Air” the dad movie of the year? Yes, but so what? Despite being about the creation of a basketball shoe, which sounds like a mind-numbingly boring premise, “Air” is supremely entertaining and uplifting due to an incredible screenplay, wonderful characters, snappy dialogue, passionate direction by Ben Affleck, and lively performances across the board. “Air” has plenty of soul, far more than 95% of movies released nowadays, and in effect it’s impossible not to fall in love with. I don’t always need my movies to be heartbreaking or thought-provoking or boundary-pushing — sometimes I need a fun, well-executed pick-me-up that I can watch over and over again. That’s exactly what “Air” is.
3. The Holdovers
“The Holdovers” is undoubtedly the most heartwarming movie of 2023. As usual for director Alexander Payne, this film is entirely character-based, similar to classic 1970s/80s movies. In fact, “The Holdovers” is filmed and recorded to feel straight out of the 1970s (which is also when the movie takes place) on a technical level. Paul Giamatti gives a career-best performance as pretentious curmudgeon Paul Hunham, a teacher left to watch over a handful of students (the holdovers) at a New England boarding school during winter break. Over the course of the film, Hunham bonds with the snarky trouble-making student Angus Tully (played by Dominic Sessa in his film debut), as well as school head chef Mary Lamb, a mother mourning the death of her son in the Vietnam War. All three leads are written and played to perfection. The script is witty and emotional, built on incredibly detailed characters who I could watch for ten more movies. While Giamatti and Sessa share the bulk of the screentime and humor, the standout is Da’Vine Joy Randolph as Mary, who balances a warm maternal energy with a somber core. It’s utterly impossible not to fall in love with these characters, and I can see “The Holdovers” becoming a Christmas classic.
2. Oppenheimer
“Oppenheimer” is the culmination of Christopher Nolan’s entire career. The film features Nolan’s usual techniques like the non-linear storytelling and bombastic music, yet unlike most of Nolan’s work, which pulls off some techniques and fails to pull off others, “Oppenheimer” nails all of them. In fact, it fixes my issues with Nolan’s previous films, namely the lackluster dialogue and overbearing score. This is easily Nolan’s best screenplay, coupled with his most gorgeous and disturbing direction (particularly during the haunting gymnasium scene).
Nolan crafted an immensely compelling, flawed, and layered portrait of J. Robert Oppenheimer, fearless enough to emphasize the gray areas in Oppenheimer’s beliefs. Nolan doesn’t shove any messaging down the audience’s throat, and instead leaves most questions up to interpretation. All of this film’s brilliance is propelled by an astounding Cillian Murphy, who gives the year’s finest performance as Oppenheimer. No actor has eyes like those, and he utilizes them perfectly. Oppenheimer was nuanced in the script, and even more nuanced in the performance. Murphy plays the character with the proper stoicism and ambiguity, never falling into the flashiness trap. Overall, “Oppenheimer” was a stunning accomplishment that deserved its monumental success, and it has to be the defining film of 2023 at this point.
1. Past Lives
I’m astonished that this is Celine Song’s feature film debut, because “Past Lives” is a revelation. The movie follows a Korean-Canadian immigrant named Nora who was wrested apart from her childhood love Hae Sung back in Korea. Now living in New York City with her Jewish-American husband Arthur, she reunites with Hae Sung in-person after 24 years of separation.
Realism is the key to “Past Lives.” Each of the three central characters are entirely grounded in reality, never behaving childish or melodramatic, amplified in their believability by the flawless dialogue. They just feel like real people talking, and that type of dialogue is the hardest to accomplish. “Past Lives” is never a love triangle, and not even much of a romance either. It’s really just a simple three-character drama about lost opportunities, and a reflection on if we’re meant to be who and where we are. Would Nora have married Hae Sung if she stayed in Korea, or would they have broken up anyway, only for Nora to marry Arthur? The film asks burdensome questions about life choices we can all relate to, and it has kept me reflecting on both the characters and myself ever since I first saw it. “Past Lives” is wholly unique, and the most poignant and thematically rich film of the year.
“Maestro” was directed by Bradley Cooper and co-written by him along with “Spotlight” screenwriter Josh Singer. Cooper stars as famed composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein in a biopic focusing on the icon’s relationship with his wife Felicia Montealegre. While they were a legitimately happy and loving pair, Bernstein had poorly concealed affairs with men throughout the marriage that strained their relationship.
Like everyone else who saw Cooper’s previous directorial effort “A Star is Born,” I loved it. Thus, I was hoping after his five-year hiatus he would return with another smash hit, but because 2023 is apparently the year of cinematic disappointments, all he delivered was a self-indulgent, Oscar-begging, soulless slog of a film.
Before I rant, let’s get the positives out of the way. Firstly, “Maestro” is a visual marvel. Matthew Libatique’s cinematography is absolutely stunning and, most impressively, versatile. “Maestro” spans multiple decades of Bernstein’s life, with the first third of the film focusing on his earlier years as a conductor in the 1950s. For this portion, Libatique modeled the camerawork after grand 1950s musicals, with sweeping camera movements coated in beautiful and transportive black-&-white. Then, for the rest of the film which focuses on Bernstein’s life in the 1960s-1980s, the film shifts to color, and although it doesn’t utilize 60s/70s/80s aesthetics, it takes on a dreamlike quality that reflects Bernstein’s idyllic mind.
“Maestro” also excels in its performances, namely Carey Mulligan as Felicia. She brings a subtle charisma and warmth to the character, and the audience can’t help but fall in love with her, just like Bernstein did. Mulligan also takes on lengthy monologues and takes with ease, culminating in a devastating revelation for Felicia that allows Mulligan to unleash all her acting chops without getting too showy. It’s a truly brilliant performance that’s well-deserving of an Oscar nomination, possibly even a win.
Mulligan and technical accomplishments aside, “Maestro” falls flat on its face, largely due to the abhorrent screenplay devoid of emotion or any fiber of a soul. This film fails to elicit even the most minuscule of emotions or life out of the audience until the aforementioned tragedy which befalls Felicia, but the only reason why that plot point lands is Mulligan’s performance, certainly not the script. Cooper and Singer speedrun through the decades, thus prohibiting any meaningful depth or strong character development. Oddly, at the same time the film feels brutally slow despite it rushing through time, simply because nothing really happens. We never actually witness Bernstein’s rise or learn for ourselves why his work is so magical — we just hear people say it is. That’s a textbook failure in following the “show don’t tell” rule. Cooper and Singer have zero interest in exploring Bernstein’s professional life, and since his personal life is oddly thin, there’s nothing to grasp onto.
To put it bluntly, “Maestro” is so damn boring. It is a total lullaby of a film that actively challenges the audience to stay awake. Seriously, Cooper almost seems aware of the audience falling asleep, as many dialogue scenes will have long pauses to account for the viewers having to jolt awake between lines. I feel that I’ve accomplished a monumental achievement in maintaining consciousness throughout this bland, dull, and lifeless bedtime story. I have not seen a film so difficult to stay awake during in years. I almost never get tired during films, but this was a different beast. I may have developed whiplash from all the head-jerking.
I find it borderline repulsive how Oscar-baiting this film is. I barely even consider it a film, as it’s more of a demo-reel for Cooper to show off his new voice and conducting skills after 4 years of preparation. I don’t care how much time and effort Cooper spent to immerse himself into the role. Yes, he’s quite good, but he’s not Cillian Murphy good, let alone Carey Mulligan good. I could picture plenty of other actors doing just as well as Cooper. As a filmmaker he has a responsibility to make a film, not a compilation of pretty clips boasting his acting just to beg the Academy to “Pick me! Pick me!” This is textbook Oscar-bait with a black hole for a heart.
“The Killer” marks perfectionist filmmaker David Fincher’s return to the psychological thriller. It stars Michael Fassbender as the unnamed title character, a meticulous assassin who loves a good self-indulgent internal monologue. After a hit goes wrong, his girlfriend is brutally attacked and nearly murdered as punishment for his mistake. Now the Killer must hunt down those guilty for the attack, using modern technology and his crafty intellect. I won’t lie: I am the target audience for this film. David Fincher making an assassin movie in which you follow the routine of a ruthless killer? I’m there.
I’m elated to say that “The Killer” did not disappoint. This was a relentlessly compelling, immaculately detailed procedural flick that puts you right in the disturbing mind of a psychopath. Throughout the film we listen to his internal diatribes about how he keeps empathy out of his life and “sticks to the plan,” which directly contradicts his improvised actions in the pursuit of vengeance. Thus, he’s a hypocrite and an unreliable narrator. I found this dynamic to be incredibly fascinating, and when combined with his 1) great intellect and 2) utter disregard for human life/compassion (outside of his girlfriend), Fincher has crafted one of the most mesmerizing characters of the year. I could watch his daily routine for hours.
Michael Fassbender gives a tour-de-force performance as the title character. His voice is so gentle and almost soothing, which serves as a stark and ironic contrast to the character’s actions. There’s a ferocity beneath his stare and (although this is most likely do to Fincher’s notoriously high number of takes) a sense that he has done all of this so many times before to the point of, as the Killer himself says, “boredom.”
The sound design here is also incredible. Take the Killer listening to music, for instance. The closer we are to his earbuds the louder the music gets, and the further away the quieter it gets, adding that special hint of Fincher realism. Fincher’s frequent collaborators Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross did the score here, and it’s just as unconventional as I hoped it would be. The music actually sounds like the noises of a murder we don’t see. Sometimes there’s what sounds like the gripping of leather gloves around someone’s throat, other times what sounds like distorted screams or breathing. It’s an incredibly disturbing soundtrack that’s certainly not pleasant on the ears but perfectly matches the vibe and energy of the film.
My main complaint with “The Killer” is its ending, which was so incredibly rushed that it felt as if the producer called time and ordered Fincher to cease shooting. The film reached a conclusion that would be interesting if it were more thoroughly explored, but instead we speed through it and I left the movie saying, “wait, that’s it?”
Anatomy of a Fall | B
Justine Triet’s “Anatomy of a Fall” won the prestigious Palme d’Or at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival (essentially its “Best Picture”), an award previously won by films such as “Taxi Driver,” “Pulp Fiction,” “Parasite,” and… last year’s embarrassing “Triangle of Sadness.” After the husband of author Sandra Voyter (played by Sandra Hüller) fatally falls from their home’s balcony with his head bludgeoned by an unknown object, foul play is suspected. The film follows Sandra in the court case to prove her innocence, and secrets are revealed.
The ambiguity is this film’s greatest strength. Triet never definitively tells the audience whether Sandra is guilty or not. We never see the crime and know only as much as the jury. Ultimately that fearless ambiguity makes “Anatomy of a Fall” stand out from other courtroom dramas and allows for fun conversations to be had between audience members after viewing. Nonetheless the film still shines in those court scenes, which have Sorkin-esque snappy dialogue and compelling revelations. The performances are solid across the bard, although I don’t think Hüller is the Oscar-worthy phenomenon many are calling her.
Unfortunately, the film is held back by numerous flaws. Firstly, it is two-and-a-half hours long and it feels like it. The first act is a dull, generic, soulless slog that should have been trimmed to the bone. Once the trial (and ambiguous storytelling) actually starts, the film really gets going, but the pacing never fully recovers. I also found the camerawork distracting. At times the camera is completely still, reminiscent of Todd Field’s brilliantly subdued direction in last year’s “Tár.” However, at other moments Triet will do snap zooms and documentary style photography similar to “Succession.” The styles clash and distract from the tension. Additionally, some shots are legitimately out of focus and/or most of the screen gets blocked by character’s backs. Shocking for such a high-profile awards film.
“Anatomy of a Fall” is merely decent. It is far from a masterpiece and has serious issues in its structure and cinematography. In totality, it works well enough, but without Triet’s brilliant decision to rely on ambiguity the film would be utterly generic and unremarkable.
May December | A-
Todd Haynes’ “May December” follows actress Elizabeth Berry (played by Natalie Portman) as she studies Gracie Athertoon-Yoo (Julianne Moore) for an independent film based on Gracie’s life. Gracie is an ex-felon who had sexual intercourse with 13-year-old Joe Yoo a couple decades back and successively gave birth to their child. After her release, she married adult Joe (played by Charles Melton) and had even more children with him. Gracie became a true crime phenomenon, and throughout the film we watch as Elizabeth observes how Gracie essentially robbed Joe of his childhood and made him into a young, naive boy trapped in a now-36-year-old’s body. The film tackles heavy themes of abuse, manipulation, sexuality, and the immorality of media and the entertainment industry — so it makes perfect sense that the Golden Globes nominated this film for “Best Musical or Comedy.”
Despite “May December” being nothing but people talking in rooms and occasionally backyards, it is endlessly engaging. Samy Burch’s screenplay is incredibly complex yet utterly simplistic. The dialogue feels so real and while her characters are rich on paper, Burch still allows for the performances to expand upon the material and craft wonderfully detailed roles.
Julianne Moore is deeply unsettling and power-hungry as Gracie, especially during one scene when she delivers the most vicious cry I’ve ever seen. Her jaw fires outward with each sob, and her wails are oddly aggressive and predatory. Charles Melton has earned praise as the breakout performance of the film, and it’s obvious why. Despite his massive figure and towering height, he contorts his body to appear invisible and weak, illustrating Joe’s utter lack of control over his own life. So much is delivered through his eyes and body language.
However, I strongly believe that Natalie Portman is the true revelation here. Portman never lets the audience learn who Elizabeth really is. She changes her personality, voice, and attitude depending on who she’s interacting with. While conversing with Gracie and her family, she puts on a soft-spoken, gentle voice to come off as the compassionate and down-to-earth actress. While conversing with her fiancé over the phone, she seems utterly annoyed yet still puts on a facade to hide her infidelities. While conversing with her director, she acts flirtatiously, seemingly out of the desire to obtain more control over the movie. Portman plays Elizabeth with a thirst for manipulation. She constantly alters her persona to extract what she desires from others. People seem like pawns to her. In her own way, Elizabeth is just as unsettling and controlling as Gracie, which is probably why she wants to play her.
Unfortunately, the movie is held back by its aggressively inappropriate score. The music is bombastic and overdramatic, much more suitable for a soap opera or a Victorian-era historical epic than this kind of story. On so many occasions, scenes are interrupted and diminished by the NUH-NUHHHHH, NUH-NUHHHHH. In isolation, the music is actually quite beautiful, but in context of this grounded film it is brutally distracting and adds an almost laughable element of melodrama that undercuts most of the best scenes.
