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Review: ‘Black Christmas’ Fails On All Fronts

When I saw that there was going to be a second remake of one of the first films in the “slasher” genre, I can’t say that I was excited for yet another reinterpretation of a film that already had a previously poorly received remake. I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t someone trying to inject thoughtful social commentary — a la Get Out — into a film with the same plot as Sorority House Massacre with the subtlety of an infant. What it’s going for is noble and while I generally agree with the rough ideas of what the film is advocating for, chalking gender inequality up to the black magic of a dead college founder is in no way doing any favors for the advancement of women in society (let alone bringing anything new to the table). Not to mention, it’s one of the most atrociously executed films of all time. Black Christmas fails on almost every level except for presentation (slightly); leading me to confidently conclude that this is one of (if not) the worst films of the decade.

Black Christmas follows a members of a sorority as they are being systematically killed off by a hooded killer. Riley Stone (Imogen Poots) is getting ready for another winter break at the sorority house as she has no family to go home to. Hawthorne College feels like what one would think all universities are like if all they had for reference were the sensationalized television news stories where founders’ statues are being removed and students are signing petitions against literature written exclusively by white men. It’s a gross misrepresentation that frames college social activists as bumbling idiots while trying to advocate for females’ empowerment. This dynamic which feels equal parts progressive and out of touch stems from a director Sophia Takal’s vision being impaired by executives driven by profit. Along with her friends Marty, Kris, and Jesse, Riley works her way through life post-sexual assault (that went unpunished) where she is taunted by fraternity members, struggling with the trauma that accompanies such a horrific act, and putting up with a professor (Cary Elwes) who seems to be the model antagonist to advancement for women. After ridiculing the enabling fraternity at a talent show, things begin to get strange as the sorority members begin to receive messages from their dead college founder and others don’t make it home for the holidays on time. These incidents eventually ramp up; culminating in a home invasion spearheaded by the hooded killer.

Black Christmas opens as most slashers would with a kill early on to entice the fans of the genre over while a dry spell ensues. It is odd judging violence, but in the context of what this film is, it utterly fails at any conveying any sense of the gruesome nature of what’s happening on screen. Slashers are remembered for creative kills and dimwitted archetypical leads who the audience couldn’t care less for. Genre boundaries aren’t necessarily always best when followed, but when the split is about 50/50 between following the rules and flipping them on their head, the result comes out as neither safe nor bold. The film wallows in mediocrity that — in this case — is then further diminished by its inability to successfully piggyback off of ideas of social commentary popularized in the contemporary horror films of Jordan Peele. What this results in is Get Out by way of the Platinum Dunes Friday the 13th, which is just as obtuse as it sounds.

While having a feminist message isn’t a detriment to the film whatsoever, the way in which the film frames and delivers these ideas feels amateur and clumsy. There’s something to be said about the parallels between the overt nature of murder in slashers and the straightforward delivery of the message, but it isn’t handled in a way that warrants any praise, aside from conceptualization, in its execution, which falls flat on its face. What seems to be the biggest detriment to the film’s feminist drive once again falls to the genre trappings of the slasher, which is by nature without depth. They’re lowly movies that people (including myself) watch for creative violence. Aside from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and maybe Halloween, I can’t think of any film in this subgenre that really makes you think. To reiterate, Black Christmas didn’t have to immerse itself in genre trappings, but it did partially and in doing so failed to balance on the fine line between dumb fun and meaningful commentary. The blunt nature of the thematic ideas is partially due to the nature of the film’s genre. There’s a difference between the straightforward nature of Jason Voorhees beating someone in a sleeping bag against a tree and having a majority of the characters state the point of the movie as if the audience is too stupid to get it. The film’s message isn’t the problem, but it’s how it’s delivered that ultimately ruins the outcome.

In looking back at issues with the film, what started out as a single issue with it being a poor vessel for an examination of continual gender inequality in the film industry blossomed into a multitude of issues. The second remake of a relatively well-regarded genre film was completely unnecessary given the failure of its 2006 predecessor. Reconceptualizing the story to be one of black magic practicing frat brothers is far less compelling than the gritty reality of the original. It’s an obvious cash grab for wintertime horror with poor attempts to add a distinct edge by making it about contemporary society. This film is offensive because it treats its audience like five-year-olds; beating them over the head with a direct message as if subtext would be lost on the audience. The more I think about it the more frustrated I get with the fact that Universal executives thought that this was passable. It is undoubtedly the worst film I’ve seen. As far as female-empowering modern takes on old genres, watch Death Proof instead.

.5/5 STARS

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Review: ‘Cats’ is Exactly What You’d Expect

At long, long last, Cats has finally arrived. With a 19% score on Rotten Tomatoes as of opening day, one of the most anticipated films of the year has finally graced us with its other-worldly presence. Cats follows the journey of Victoria (Francesca Hayward), an abandoned cat. She meets the Jellicles, a group of cats living in London, one by one as they compete for the honor of ascension to the Heaviside Layer. If that sounds like a strange plot for a film to have, it’s because it is.

The thing about Cats is that it is flawed at its core. This movie shouldn’t have been made. I’m not a musical theater scholar by any means, but I can think of many shows that should have been adapted before this. Moreover, I can think of many, many, shows that would have been far easier to adapt than Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats. There’s also the elephant in the room: the CGI in this film edges far too close to the uncanny valley for comfort. The CGI also makes the dancing feel less impressive, as it feels about as realistic as the fur on Judi Dench’s face. Cats could have easily been done without CGI, instead using traditional costumes and makeup, but it was not.

The key to engaging with Cats as a film is to accept these two central flaws (its existence and its CGI). Yes, these flaws still impact the film. However, if you accept these things and move on, Cats becomes a fun and campy good time instead of a showcase of mistakes. There’s nothing you can do about these key problems, so we, the audience, might as well make the best of it. I highly recommend the experience of seeing this film in theaters. It is a ridiculous, hilarious, and fun-filled romp through a scaled-up CGI London that I think is best enjoyed in an environment with others to prevent one’s own spiral into insanity.

What Cats lacks in realism, gravity, and sense, it makes up for with sheer enthusiasm. It feels as though every member of the cast is giving it their all, even though they could probably coast their way through the performance. Francesca Hayward shines, Jennifer Hudson dazzles, and Taylor Swift seems to be having the time of her life. While the movie isn’t great, it is at least fun to watch the cast act for their lives.

While Cats is fun, I cannot in good conscience call it a “good” film. Aside from the obvious faults I mentioned earlier, there are many smaller problems with it. While the filmmaking itself is blessedly competent, it doesn’t distract from the sheer weirdness of watching a bunch of actors you know and love behave like cats. Cats falls into the Lion King (1994) trap of trying to portray feline-on-feline affection to a human audience; one can only watch two characters nuzzle each other so many times before it just becomes weird. Additionally, the scale of the set in relation to the actors starts to become strangely humorous after a while, with long shots of the dance sequences that will make you laugh out loud more than once.

All in all, Cats feels like something that exists outside any modern method of film criticism. I, personally, truly enjoyed my viewing experience, as I love a good big-budget campy nightmare. However, my taste in film is obviously not universal, as evidenced by several people in my screening leaving halfway through the film. All I can offer is this: if you think you would enjoy Cats, you will probably enjoy Cats. The trailers advertised the film honestly, which in this day and age is something to be admired. If you don’t think you’d like Cats, that’s completely understandable. If you do think you’d like Cats, step right up to the Jellicle ball and enjoy the ride of a lifetime.

1.5/5 STARS

Review: ‘Marriage Story’ Offers a Profound Perspective on Modern Stories of Love and Divorce

In Noah Baumbach’s newest feature, Marriage Story, opens the soon to be separated Charlie (Adam Driver) and Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) are asked to write a list of what they love about each other to ease them into what they hope to be an amicable process of disconnecting their intricately merged lives. If asked to write a list of what there is to love about this film, there would be too much to say.

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Review: ‘The Aeronauts’ is a Fun Adventure, But its Head’s in the Clouds

It’s one thing to have a bad biopic, but it’s a completely different thing to have a fake biopic. The Aeronauts, directed by Tom Harper of Peaky Blinders fame, is the latter, even if it’s a good film. The Aeronauts, advertised as a biopic, is based on the record-breaking flight of British climate scientist James Glashier (Eddie Redmayne), famous for reaching an altitude of 12,000 feet in a hot-air balloon. He is aided by a pilot friend of his, the flamboyant pilot Amelia Wren (Felicity Jones).

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Review: ‘Atlantics’ is an Otherworldly Love Story for the Present Moment

Atlantics made history as the first film directed by a black woman, French actress/director Mati Diop, to compete for the Palme d’Or at Cannes Film Festival. It went on to win the Grand Prix, the second-most prestigious prize at Cannes. Diop’s debut film is a story told by an artist with a clear vision. With the tagline being, “Every love story is a ghost story,” this film is a more than a love story. It’s a film about grief and how those we love, as cliche as it sounds, never really leave us.

Set in Senegal, the story follows Ada (Mame Bineta Sane) and her lover, Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré). Souleiman and his peers are denied their wages on a construction project for months. They leave Senegal by boat in search of a better future in Spain; without informing their lovers, and these girls are left behind. Ada is engaged to Omar (Babacar Sylla), and after an incident on their wedding night, becomes haunted by something otherworldly. Atlantics slowly builds to a powerful, tender ending.

African talent needs to be appreciated and uplifted. The performances by the main cast are all successful, but one actor who clearly stands out is Mame Bineta Sane as Ada. Her steady stare in the final shot is proof enough of her talents. Her nuanced performance throughout the film is incredible: how she idles in a state of misery after her love leaves, her anger at being mistreated on the basis of her gender, and how she whispers her love to Souleiman. Mame Bineta Sane is the true star of this film. Another stand-out performance is Nicole Sougou as Dior. Ada’s friend and confidant, she stands out as a sunglasses-toting bartender. She is solid in her views and opinions, and supports not only the fictional Ada, but also Mame Bineta Sane’s performance. How the characters dress and move feels natural, and is a testament to the work of the supporting cast.

Diop’s Director of Photography, Claire Mathon’s, cinematography is a stand-out in this film. Shots of unfinished construction and a burned mattress are framed wonderfully, to the point where they look like photography. Particularly how Mathon composes her images, how she allows the landscape to take up space and the actors to just exist on the screen. Mathon likes to hold her shots for a while, to the point where the audience notices. She lets her shots breathe, and it works for the most part. The shots look almost over-exposed, but it helps to create a unique look for the film and adds to the film tonally. The score also complements the film well, often pushing the audience to feel that something is not quite right. In particular, the way Diop shows the ocean is especially unique. Beyond it being a plot device, Diop creates a whole character out of the ocean.

Finally, this film is extremely relevant due to its worldview. While this film exists absent of white people and the colonial world, it does not exist outside of the forces creating the economically disadvantaged. The film begins with young men demanding overdue wages. The supernatural twist is in part due to this denial of fair wages, and is a cry for all economically downtrodden people. Diop’s female perspective is also instrumental to this story. The women of this story are called “mad” for being emotional, and are subjected to virginity tests and forced into marriages. But, from this abuse, comes a sense of female solidarity and empowerment. Dior carefully braids Ada’s hair, which represents a fundamental shift in Ada’s character. The women walk the streets at night barefoot in nightgowns, and as I was watching, I intrinsically felt scared for these girls being so exposed. These women are free, and Ada is free.

Atlantics is on Netflix now, and your 2019 watchlist is not complete without this film. Foreign films tend to be ignored, at worst tokenized. A film from Senegal has never been nominated for an Academy Award, and even worse, only three African films in the entire history of the Oscars have won for Best Foreign Film. The Academy Awards don’t mean everything in terms of the art of filmmaking, but they matter when it comes to pushing wider audiences to watch things they may have not been interested in before. As we approach awards season, you should be sure to pay attention to if Atlantics.

4/5 STARS

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Review: ‘I Lost My Body’ Disorients at Times, but Shines as an Original and Mesmerizing Experience

I Lost My Body is a French animated film directed by Jérémy Clapin that glides through the love, loss, and self-discovery of a young man named Noufelle. The story is a gritty, beautiful, and while the original plot confuses and distances moviegoers at times, it becomes worthwhile by its conclusion.

To the audience, one of the more unique parts of the film is the added storyline of Noufelle’s severed hand’s mission of reunification across Paris. The scenes involving the hand truly showcase the beauty of the animation style; Its careful pencil-sketched movements are delicate, deft, and deliberate. One small caveat to this is that there is a bit of an uncanny valley effect with the characters that leave them looking a bit creepy, but the realism of their moments and actions usually offsets this. Furthermore, good lighting in animated films is a mesmerizing thing that is often hard to find, but this film gets it wonderfully right in bright sharp scenes that pop out among the dark comic-book look of other scenes. This expertise livens the scenes with the severed hand that focus on various actions or struggles, emphasizing its role of survival and robotic determination to find its body. The excitement, wonder, and suspense the hand experiences are enhanced by perspective shots forcing the audience to experience the tumultuous world as the hand does. However, whenever Noufelle’s story became interesting, the hand seems more like an unwelcome distraction. The audience gets a little bored following the random wanderings of the Addams Family’s Thing on the other side of the city over the heartaches and longings of a breathing intriguing human Noufelle. If the audience braves this directionless side story for some time, the harshness of the hand’s reality wears away into beautiful gestures and dream-like visions that leave them with the lovely wanderlust an artsy independent film secretly promises.

Though there are beautiful mini-monologues and stunning visuals scattered throughout the movie, I Lost My Body is no romantic film. The premise of the movie is fantastical, but Noufelle’s life is realistic, disappointing, and yet hopeful in small unexpected ways. The flashbacks to Noufelle’s childhood and the mysterious few characters that blend from past to present pull the audience in and throw pieces of a puzzle up into the air for the audience to attempt to put together. It’s disorienting at times, throwing out a little bit too much vagueness that leaves the audiences floating alone in a pool of ideas, images, and feelings. However, if the viewer pushes through these moments, the connection of all these ideas is masterful and well worth the confusion. This movie would be even more brilliant the second time when the audience can find more pieces and put them together more efficiently; There is so much to uncover with every subsequent viewing. However, I believe that this film is a good movie to watch once for the moment-to-moment experience of something fresh and interesting, but not necessarily something I would personally want to watch to enjoy again. The film doesn’t give the moviegoer what it wants in terms of relationships between people and their goals that run throughout the movie. Instead, the moviegoer understands something at the end that they can’t quite put into words, some shared novel mutual human understanding Claplin reaches out and slowly uncovers for them to see.

3/5 STARS

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Review: ‘Queen & Slim’ is a Disappointing Roadside Adventure

There are two kinds of bad independent films: The low-budget Sundance indie that is afforded the opportunity to take risks, good or bad; ones that end up as reactive cases that can be meshed into the Sundance drama category. Then there is the other, albeit much rarer, type: the reductive, safe type, hiding a banal plot underneath the glitz and glamour. With a director like Melina Matsoukas (a multi-ethnic female director of color known for her indelible music videos) and Lena Waithe (Emmy winner of the masterful “Thanksgiving” episode from Master of None), Queen & Slim had a lot of potential. Add in Daniel Kaluuyah of Get Out and decade-worthy Widows fame and a new up-and-coming starlet in the form of Jodie Turner-Smith, this was a potential late-year wild card up Hollywood and Universal’s sleeve. Instead, what we get is the rare type of bad indie, the one too wrapped up in self-mythologizing and a shallow black experience story to creatively shift the on-the-run genre and shine above the rest.

The film follows the promising story of a date gone bad. Queen and Slim, named at the end in their martyr state, are off to a rocky start, with one seeking attention and the other seeking brief solace. But when a routine traffic stop turns to anything but, Queen and Slim go on the run. Their journey takes them across the roads of Americana as their legend and love for each other grows larger. Once the central story evolves into something more, Queen & Slim presents its thin foundation with an awkward two-hander, landing somewhere between plot-less visual piece and laborious plot-driven drama.

The film, and subsequently its script, shows all of its cards from the opening scene; In other words, once you know the story, it is easy to see where this will go. The two characters have a beguiling resentment for each other, born from contrasting backgrounds and ideologies. Queen, one of the many underwritten elements of the film, comes from a background of eye-rolling authority, initially refusing to go with Slim because she will figure it out on her own. However, an hour later in the film’s running time later, she is caressing Slim while they make love – a scene notable as one the few risks the film takes as it crosscuts with deadly riots in support of the two lovers. If you think you’ll miss anything in between, you won’t. They dance in a sun-soaked bar; They almost get caught a couple of times; they change clothes. That’s it. That’s the plot.

Queen & Slim is filled with clunky and self-aggrandizing dialogue. For every thoughtful (albeit heavy-handed) dialogue sequence, there is a loopy sequence appealing to God or legacy. The imagery is colorful and sultry; Matsoukas shows an adept ability at framing the camera in isolated frames in the beginning; the general distrust between each other presented in a clear way. By the end, the isolated frames have collided into one another, heads and arms flying outside the window as they learn to embrace life. Waithe may have an inept ability to write her main characters, but her supporting character glows with aberrated rhythm. Additionally, Bokeem Woodbine has a riotous role as Queen’s uncle. On top of that, even Flea shows up as another supporting character. There is a generous virtuosity to the film’s delectable images as the film bursts with style from the seams. But the film wants to be more than that. There are supporting characters that Waithe wants to beam with operatic complexity that turn out to be – well – nothing but average, albeit wacky, supporting characters. The story wants to explore societal fragments located within a Bonnie and Clyde mythmaking tale of black love and resistance. Instead, the script and storytelling let the premise and potential down, resulting in a forgettable Thanksgiving option.

2.5/5 STARS

UW Film Club Podcast #60 – Parasite

“You know what kind of podcast never fails? No podcast. No podcast at all.”

It’s our last episode of the Autumn 2019 quarter, and to celebrate, we’re talking about what we (and the general public) agree is easily one of the best films of the year, Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite! Hilarious, yet heartbreaking, absurd, yet grounded, Parasite explores class dynamics through an original and self-reflective lens, as we see the film’s terrifying villain in its true form – ignorance. In this podcast, we talk about its realistic portrayal of class-based struggles, its mainstream success & Western comedic sensibilities, and, of course, the Oscars. Do you have a plan to listen to this episode? If you do, great, but if you don’t, check out Parasite in theaters, and then listen to our *spoiler-filled* 60th episode of the UW Film Club Podcast!

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Review: ‘The Irishman’ is What I Call Real Cinema

Ever since the announcement of a Scorsese film starring Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci, and Al Pacino, film lovers have had The Irishman in the back of their minds, patiently waiting in anticipation. Martin Scorsese is no stranger to the gangster film genre, so it comes as no surprise that he chose to return to it with The Irishman. He brings with him his long time collaborators, Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci, and for the first time, Al Pacino, for the best gangster film this decade. DeNiro plays Frank Sheeran, a truck driver, who gets involved with Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci), a high ranking member in a mob family. This connection eventually leads to Frank getting a job with a Teamster representative, Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), who is involved with the mob. What many thought would be another gangster film from the legendary filmmaker, The Irishman is both an exciting gangster epic and an output for Scorsese to reflect on his career and the gangster genre where he found so much success.

First, the elephant in the room: the three and a half hour run time. Though the time didn’t exactly fly by, it also didn’t feel like any of that time was wasted. Everything included in the film adds to the story being told and nothing in the final cut can afford to be lost. The movie is a bit of a slow burn, but it never slows down enough to lose any of its momentum. It feels like the film is constantly moving forwards, even towards the end. The performances are outstanding. Nobody will ever be better for a Scorsese long shot than DeNiro. DeNiro is a master at conveying so much with so little and it easily seen in his amazing performance. The other big standout is Al Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa. Although he looks nothing like the real person, he is able to transform himself into Jimmy Hoffa, and as a result, his portrayal is utterly enthralling. Less enchanting however, is the de-aging of DeNiro and others. While it doesn’t look bad, during flashbacks, you have to look at supporting characters to figure out when the scene is taking place because DeNiro always looks at least 50 no matter how much they de-age him.

From beginning to end, Scorsese never lets the audience forget about the ever-looming presence of death. You can feel the weight of every loss whether it’s the death of a character or the death of relationships between characters. Everyone loses something by the end of the film. All the lower ranking mobsters are introduced with text about how and where they died; most of them young and murdered for one reason or another. The ones that do survive are in prison or die alone, those who once had it all are left with nothing. In his past films, Scorsese dawdles on the the glitz and glamour of the lavish lives lived by gangsters, and while that is present in The Irishman, what’s more prominent is the fall of the gangster. He lingers on the fall by illustrating how the gangsters who do live long enough to die old slowly lose everything until they have nothing left but themselves.

This infatuation with the fall of the gangster feels like Scorsese is looking back at his career and the image of the gangster. With Goodfellas, Casino, and The Departed, Scorsese made it cool to be a gangster, and the lifestyle they live something to aspire for. The Irishman warns that this fame and fortune is temporary and will eventually come to an anti-climactic end. Hopefully this is not his last film, however, The Irishman would be a strong ending to an accomplished career.

The shots are beautifully crafted, the performances are captivating, and the film as a whole is a wonderful film that only Martin Scorsese could craft this elegantly. Martin Scorsese has once again hit the nail on the head and created a masterpiece that will go down as one of his best. With the very limited theater release, I highly recommend finding a theater showing it, otherwise, on November 27th, sit down for three and a half hours and enjoy a piece of “real cinema”.

4.5/5 STARS

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Review: ‘Knives Out’ is the Funny, Fresh, Twisty Thrill We Need Right Now

In my opinion, there are two reasons that movies exist. Either they are a medium of self-expression or they are a way to entertain us. The latter of these two is almost certainly going draw thousands to the movies over the Thanksgiving break.

Knives Out immediately draws you into the mystery surrounding the death of wealthy author, Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer). You are there at the scene of the crime, the Thrombey estate, and immediately are shown the dead body. The location scouting and production design teams have to be given credit for their work. In the estate (the primary location throughout the film), the Thrombey family’s wealth is immaculately stated in every detail of the house; whether it be the excess of ridiculous objects, narrow hallways with many rooms, or the many paintings of Harlem himself, it’s clear. They are wealthy; part of the elite.

However, the stellar writing of writer/director Rian Johnson’s script clearly makes this family out to be spoiled and ridiculous, leading to some genuinely solid laughs from start to finish. However, Johnson interestingly takes an approach that completely undermines the conventions of the murder mystery genre. Johnson initially follows the tradition of giving us a motive for all the characters to kill him, but he pulls the rug from under you. Once that happens, the movie becomes something fresh. It’s unpredictable and will keep you on the edge of your seat with an atmosphere thick with tension and dialogue designed to keep us laughing.

The narrative juxtaposes three sides of this story: the family, the police, and, our main protagonist, Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas). As with many films of this generation, there is clearly a social commentary in this movie. There are clear connections that Johnson makes between the contained story of the film and our present political climate. It’s not subtle at all, and the message is not revolutionary, but it leads to a great punch at the end that ultimately leaves you in a good mood.

Nothing needs to be said about say anything about acting in this film. The cast is star studded. Chris Evans. Daniel Craig. Toni Collette. Jamie Lee Curtis. Michael Shannon. Lakeith Stanfield. All of the performances here are solid. Ana de Armas in particular grounds the film with an excellent performance. It’s believable and has some genuine (albeit, limited) depth. Prior to Knives Out, she had never held a lead role in a major Hollywood film. Praise must be given for being able to give such a good performance among the powerhouse actors in the movie.

Overall, this whodunnit has excellent direction from a talented writer/director that continues to make great movies. Yes, you could wait to see the film when it comes out on digital, but you risk being stabbed in the back with spoilers. This is the type of movie that doesn’t come along that often. It’s an original story in a mostly underrepresented genre in today’s studio releases. It’s definitely worth multiple viewings when the chance presents itself.

4.5/5 STARS