Review: ‘Tom and Jerry’ is the Latest Live-Action Film Saving Animation From its Own Creativity

Be thankful for small favors. 2021’s reimagining of Tom and Jerry does not reimagine the famous cartoon cat-and-mouse duo as photorealistic CGI charaters. Though the movie isn’t fully animated, it avoids the uncanny valley of the Alvin & the Chipmunks movies or Tim Hill’s Garfield. Instead, it portrays a live-action New York City where they and other animals are rendered as 2D cartoons. Continue reading “Review: ‘Tom and Jerry’ is the Latest Live-Action Film Saving Animation From its Own Creativity” →

Review: Neil Jordan’s ‘Greta’ Sins

Neil Jordan’s Greta tries really hard to tempt, catch, and thrill, but over the course of the run time, it becomes apparent that it’s an underwhelming tale that confuses and disappoints. While I give the film credit for its acting and premise, I would be reluctant to give it anything else. Written and directed by Neil Jordan and starring Chloë Grace Moretz and Isabelle Huppert, this film barely manages to maintain interest beyond its strong leading performances.

Continue reading “Review: Neil Jordan’s ‘Greta’ Sins” →

| Image

Review: Suspiria Channels High Brow Art Horror

The original Suspiria by Dario Argento is a cult classic. Since its original run in the 70s, the film has grown into a sensation of praise, being cited as the one of the definitive giallo films to inspire the American slasher and a horror favorite of both John Carpenter and Edgar Wright. Even with all its praise, it is still very cult-y in many regards. It’s narrative isn’t all that cohesive, the acting is sometimes laughable, and the logic leaves much to be desired. So with plenty of headroom to improve, a remake wouldn’t seem all that unreasonable in 2018.

In steps Luca Guadagnino. After the success of Call Me By Your Name, Guadagnino set his sights on remaking Suspiria with a new vision in mind. Gone is the bright technicolor saturation of the original and in are muted red, brown, and blue pastels. Gone are the infamous maggot, dog, and barb-wire scenes and in are horrifying dance sequences. Gone is the pulpy nature of the original and in are the heavily artistic sensibilities of Guadagnino. The result is a remake which improves on the original by intentionally avoiding what made the original so well liked. Instead, Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria is a wonderful retelling of a cult classic that channels high brow art to create an intellectually challenging, but equally frightening horror film.

Like the original, Suspiria follows Susie Bannion (Dakota Johnson) as she travels to Berlin with the hopes of joining the famous Helena Markos Dance Company. After being recruited by Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton), Susie quickly climbs the ranks and becomes the lead in their premiere performance, but with it, strange occurrences begin to occur as students disappear, become ill, or wind up dead. With so many anomalies, students begin to suspect that something other than dance is taking place within the walls of the academy. 

Like Call Me By Your Name before it, Luca Guadagnino has imbued Suspiria with plenty of art house sensibilities. The film is considerably more eloquent than the original and firmly sides with sophisticated art rather than the cult origins of its source material. Earlier this year, fellow writer Jamie Housen wrote how Call Me By Your Name used similar creative decisions to give itself an artistic feel; as he put it, the decisions made in that film may “isolate many audience members,” and for better or worse, the same notion is true here. 

So much of this film has symbolic meaning, hidden subtext, and ulterior motives that will have you asking yourself, “What did I just watch?” (especially when the final act kicks in), but to the film’s credit, that’s what makes it so good. It’s not clear cut like most horror films and it doesn’t concede to traditional horror tropes. In fact, it feels more like an art house film rather than a horror film. Instead of emphasizing as many scares as possible, the film finds ways to build up to them. Rhythmic editing, irregular patterns, graphic matches, and so on all amass to a pervading sense of unease that lingers over the film; it could very well be a textbook study in most cinema classes with regards to its techniques and how it creates unsettling undertones in fairly unsuspecting scenes.

It’s masterful work, but it won’t be for everyone. Few scenes embody gore and violence like you find in other horror flicks, but those that do make up a marginal part of the run time. Clocking in at 2 hours 32 minutes, the film certainly takes its time to reach those moments. Only three major scenes will make audiences wince with terror and the rest is methodical plotting. For this film to work, you need to buy into the smaller moments so the larger ones have a greater impact on you, and unfortunately, I don’t foresee general audiences  willing to do so. If the Cinemascore for Hereditary or It Comes At Night — two films which are without a doubt a part of the best horror films of the decade—are any indication, Suspiria will undeservedly be dismissed by most as a pretentious art piece with little merit. However, to do so would be woefully naive. Under the surface and within its own technical construction, Suspiria is a horror film that is as impressive as it is sinister.

Score: 4.5/5

| Image

Review: The Miseducation of Cameron Post Presents Unflinching and Earnest Queerness

This film was seen at the 44th Seattle International Film Festival. The film is now in wide release in Seattle.

“Maybe you’re supposed to feel disgusted at yourself when you’re a teenager.”

This is not your average coming of age or moody YA drama. Desiree Akhavan, a bisexual Iranian-American woman, accomplishes the daunting task of provoking a dialogue about identity politics within the structures of well-built film. The Miseducation of Cameron Post surprises with the blackest of humor and seamlessly transitions into heartache. The film masters the waver between hope and devastation.

Cameron (Chloë Grace Moretz) is sent to God’s Promise, a Christian conversion camp founded on repetitive and mind-numbing prayer and encouraging self-hate. From its exterior, it could be mistaken for any summer camp setting, but by the first encounter with Psychologist Dr. Lydia Marsh (Jennifer Ehle) and her “ex gay” brother Reverend Rick (John Gallagher Jr.), the institutional psychological abuse is laid bare. The sheer absurdity of such an idea as praying away ones’ sexuality drives home how dangerous a sect of religion can become when it forgets its message of acceptance. It is a cult, and a place for ashamed evangelical parents to make their children invisible to the world. And it is still a reality for queer children in this country, with the people who run them being responsible for the psychological suffering of children. It pushes us to hold figures of authority accountable, both internally and externally.

However, it is the very bleakness of these circumstances that allow the resilience and sincerity of the young cast to shine through. Comradery becomes synonymous with survival. The friendships that Cameron forms with Jane (portrayed by rising star Sasha Lane) and Adam (a Lakota two-spirit boy played by Forrest Goodluck) are galvanized by similar stories of rejection by society, and through this, they come to serve as each other’s’ only touchstone for sanity and solace. The film takes its time working in fragments of each of their memories to fill out their identities and pasts, avoiding clunky exposition and filling it in as the narrative progresses.

The kids’ characters are all fully realized, and even young actors in supporting roles begin to outshine the less compelling adults. Ultimately all the kids are deeply sympathetic individuals. They are truly victims of the institution, and while they sometimes experience conflict, they are not ever made out to be rivals or enemies among themselves. They do their best surviving together as they become rebellious and self-determined in the face of institutional powers. It showcases their abilities to adapt to the adults’ games, while staying fully aware of the insidious methodology. It becomes a collective coming of age story, and the end of the film is less of a conclusion than it is a jumping off point into an unknown and indifferent world; through the very last shot, all you can be sure of is their resilience and togetherness.

In a Q&A at the film’s SIFF premiere, Goodluck explained succinctly what made him and the other teens so convincing in their roles and described how Akhavan gave the actors the space to breathe and exist as the kids after a period of research for the sake of properly representing specific identities. It’s responsible, meaningful filmmaking in a situation where any less nuance could have spiraled into exploitation. This film is ultimately about visibility; this kind of representation in media is unprecedented and desperately needed. Akhavan takes great care with a multiplicity of intersectional identities without calling attention to itself or asking for a pat on the back. The film portrays these teens knowing people in the audience will hang on to them in a media landscape dominated by white, cis, and heterosexual narratives. It resonates with those coming to terms with their own being and searching for validation in their identities and experiences. The film also inhabits a space that challenges the perspectives of those who have never lived a day in their life fearing any sort of prejudice due to their sexuality. It is eye-opening to see that kids are still shipped off by their families to these places, and are being taught to destroy themselves in the name of religion.

While the tired trope of the unhappy queer woman pervades the media, Akhavan ensures that it is never gratuitous. Her camera treats the characters with respect, an instruction for the audience to do the same. Lesbian intimacy on screen is for once not a product of the male gaze. This is proof why it is so essential to have film made by actual queer women of color who can lend their perspective. Cameron and the others aren’t simple martyrs; they are survivors that refuse to be dehumanized or forgotten. Overall, the film goes beyond a fresh narrative to absolutely raw at moments, well balanced with unexpected and biting humor. Don’t pass on this one just because the subject material is so dark, because the depth and resonance of the young characters and moments they can be genuinely themselves more than make up for it.