Movie Reviews Archives - Page 22 of 36

Thursday

4

June 2020

0

COMMENTS

The Donut King Explores the Origins of a SoCal Institution

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

There are plenty of parts of Los Angeles where it’s hard to drive more than five feet without passing a donut shop. SoCal is home to thousands of independent stores selling the iconic American treat. LA’s Cambodian population dominates the donut market, with over 90% market share across the region. The new film The Donut King explores the man who made much of this possible.

The life of Ted Ngoy is a classic example of the American dream. Escaping Cambodia as a young refugee, Ted arrived in SoCal in the mid 70s, seeking a better life for himself and his family. Recognizing the difficulties of raising a large family on a church janitor’s salary, Ted was drawn to the donut trade, which offered high traffic, long operation hours, and good margins.

After a three-month apprenticeship working for the legendary Winchell’s Donuts, Ted went out of his own, opening his own shop. Quickly learning the trade, Ted expanded rapidly through the region, in the process employing hundreds of his Cambodian countrymen. Ted’s deep-fried empire grew so massive that it severely cut into Winchell’s own market share, in the process keeping east-coast leviathan Dunkin Donuts from expanding westward.

Ngoy makes for a compelling subject, a complex man who squandered much of his empire after developing an unhealthy affection for neighboring Las Vegas. He’s very open about his life’s story, giving a personal touch to director Alice Gu’s broader narrative about how the Cambodian population came to dominate the LA donut market. Gu thoroughly unpacks the material, interviewing executives from Winchell’s and Dunkin Donuts to provide a very digestible explainer on all things donuts.

The film’s biggest struggle lies with its runtime. The Donut King almost justifies spending more than ninety minutes on Ngoy and the SoCal donut market, but the film drags pretty hard for a long stretch in the middle. A solid twenty minutes should have been cut to ease the burden on the narrative.

Gu also includes several animated sequences from films and cartoon references donuts. These cutaways help ease the burden on the repetitive landscape for a while, but they grow stale and tiresome as the narrative progresses.. There’s a very good story in The Donut King, but Gu would’ve done well to trim it down a bit.

The Donut King is a touching love letter to an important slice of SoCal culture and a man who lived the American dream. Ngoy has had his ups and downs in life, but he singlehandedly changed the landscape of a vital LA market. Be sure to grab a pink box full of everyone’s favorite treat before watching.

Friday

15

May 2020

0

COMMENTS

Classic Film: For Ever Mozart

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Jean-Luc Godard spent much of the 60s crafting experimental films with limited mainstream appeal. Part of the fun of sitting down to watch a Godard is the feeling of experiencing the director grappling with his thoughts in real time. That kind of directorial approach doesn’t always work, but it’s often very entertaining to watch.

Godard’s 60s output possesses the added advantage of being crafted against the backdrop of its era, full of vibrant color schemes and fashion. There’s always plenty for the eyes, even if the mind has no idea what’s going on. In 1997’s For Ever Mozart, Godard returns to his earlier themes, albeit without the joys that buoyed his art at indecipherable moments.

The film is broken up into four parts, each introduced with its own name. One sequence sees actors auditioning for a film, frequently discarded after only uttering a few words. Another shows a hostage situation during the Bosnian war. There is some continuity in the sense that several of the actors appear in multiple parts, but the film hardly possesses anything resembling a narrative. One’s ability to describe things that look like a plot should not be mistaken to imply that there actually is a narrative.

The acting is stifled and bland. None of this can be blamed on the talent themselves, as it is fairly hard to imagine anyone making good work out of a painfully obtuse script with no obvious sense of purpose. There is nowhere for a performer to direct their energy.

Godard is rarely accessible, but For Ever Mozart is little more than foolish ramblings by a director who seems oddly bored by his musings. At some points, it looks like he’s trying to provide a commentary on the value of art. It could be true that art can’t save the world, but to draw that from this film is to give it credit that it woefully does not deserve.

The scenery in the second sequence is pleasant to look at, something to remember. The complete absence of narrative leaves little for the mind to latch onto it after the credits roll. Godard takes a couple swings at philosophical one-liners here and there, but nothing leaves a lasting impression.

For Ever Mozart is a big waste of time for anyone other than diehard Godard fans eager to complete his filmography. Even then, it hardly holds much value. There is no way this film would have been made if it weren’t for the name recognition of its director, a sad reflection on the medium.

Thursday

14

May 2020

0

COMMENTS

Classic Film: Un Flic

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Jean-Pierre Melville’s final film is a tough nut to crack. There are parts of Un Flic that feel oddly undeveloped, the product of a director less concerned with plot than the broader themes the narrative spends its time exploring. For a master of the medium, sometimes that’s okay.

The narrative follows a robbery and its aftermath. Simon (Richard Crenna) leads the gang in their efforts to carry out of their thievery while Detective Coleman (Alain Delon) works the case. At the center of their feud is Cathy (Catherine Deneuve), Simon’s mistress who flirts with Coleman. The story and character relationships often exist on two different planes, simultaneously distant and intimate.

The film’s great triumph is a lengthy heist sequence in the second half, where Simon boards a train via helicopter to rob a rival gang of their heroin. Melville pulls off a fantastic technical feat for a film made in 1972, using minimal dialogue while maintaining an intense level of suspense. For a director making his last feature, Un Flic would be worth a watch just for the craftsmanship.

While the heist sequence is the best part of the film, it does come at a broader cost to the narrative. Stealing heroin from a rival gang has practically nothing to do with Un Flic’s broader story. Taking a twenty-minute detour out of a hundred-minute runtime does hinder the character development quite a bit.

Melville creates a rather interesting dynamic where the film operates largely without a protagonist. Coleman appears too infrequently to fit the bill, a gruff man with practically no personality beyond Delon’s irresistible charm. Simon is sort of like an anti-hero, except Melville doesn’t really provide a reason to root for him.

Some of this is rational is explained through the film’s tagline, “The only feelings mankind has ever inspired in policemen are those of indifference and derision.” Coleman isn’t in pursuit of justice, a man who acts oddly cruel to a transgender woman for no apparent reason. He’s stoic without the obvious desire for justice that drives many detectives in film.

Melville concerns himself with very complex themes in Un Flic while keeping the narrative mostly at the surface. It’s not a particularly deep film, though the kind that’s bound to keep you thinking long after the credits roll. It is not Melville’s best work.

Narratives are tricky beast. There’s only so much time for a director to explore contemplative themes once considerations to story and character are given. Melville skimps on those in Un Flic in favor of headier ambitions. He doesn’t always succeed, but the film is worth watching if only to see a master of the craft at work with his thoughts.

Saturday

9

May 2020

1

COMMENTS

World Cinema: Tomboy

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Gender nonconformity in children remains a highly controversial issue in the fight for transgender equality. Supporters of LGBTQ rights are often accused of wishing for the “transing” of children, putting aside the rather obvious point that all transgender adults were at one point, children themselves. Gender-affirming care is a proven method for alleviating gender dysphoria.

The 2011 film Tomboy features a young ten-year old child, assigned female at birth, named Laure (Zoé Héran) who adopts the identity of Mickäel as he plays with new friends in a small French town. Mickäel might be trans, a point the film leaves unclear. That clarity is not really all that important, as Mickäel would be too young for any kind of treatment other than a social transition, which makes up the bulk of the narrative.

Mickäel spends his summer playing with the local kids in his apartment building, successfully integrating himself into their social framework, even earning the romantic affections of his neighbor Lisa (Jeanne Disson). Mickäel lives a happy life, supported by his six-year-old sister Jeanne (Malonn Lévana) in a highly impressive performance by the young actress.

With school just around the horizon, Mickäel’s secret can’t stay safe forever. Director Céline Sciamma does an excellent job depicting the social dynamics of the young play group, crafting a quite compelling film with minimalist aesthetics. The film works really well for a while without much of a story, powered by some phenomenal acting.

Tomboy falls apart when it comes time to deal with the stakes at hand, an irresponsibly rushed third act that squanders the film’s ample goodwill. Films need conflict, but Sciamma doesn’t seem all that concerned with tackling the issues she presents to her audience so much as she looks eager to wrap the thing up. There’s so much depth to the family construct that goes totally ignored in favor of cheap sequences that play too hard for shock value.

Films obviously don’t need happy endings. Children can experience heartbreak and misery just as anyone else can. Sciamma plays fast and loose with her narrative in such a way that undercuts its beauty. The world is a cruel place, but there should be some semblance of an explanation for depicting such malice on screen. Sciamma throws it out there without bothering to explain or defend her film’s actions.

Whether Mickäel is trans is not really the point, though anyone looking to answer with a definitive no should look no further than a clay appendage inserted into one’s modified swimsuit. The child clearly displayed feelings of gender dysphoria. What comes after that really isn’t the point, as the film only covers brief snippets of Mickäel’s life.

The portion that we do get to see includes a lot of irresponsible parenting, a bizarre narrative decision. Sciamma clearly wants to explore gender diversity, but she’s completely careless in her approach. Tomboy is a well-crafted film, but one devoid of the kind of compassion desperately needed in these types of situations.

Friday

8

May 2020

0

COMMENTS

The Musical Treatment Works Well for a Charming Rebooted Valley Girl

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Jessica Rothe and Josh Whitehouse star in VALLEY GIRL

A film like 1983’s Valley Girl seems an obvious choice for the remake treatment. Somewhat complicating that proposition is the idea that practically every 80s homage that’s been crafted in the decades since its release has at least in part borrowed from the classic teen comedy. The 2020 version of Valley Girl is tasked with not only adapting its source material, but also distinguishing itself in a crowded very space.

The bulk of the 2020 Valley Girl is told via flashback, as an older Julie (Alicia Silverstone) fondly reflects on her younger self’s (Jessica Rothe) high school days, hanging out at the mall and practicing aerobics with her friends. With her daughter deciding between an abroad trip to Japan and the boy she’d be leaving behind, the 80s serve as a backdrop for Julie to demonstrate that she’s not as dated as some of the “Valleyspeak” the region popularized.

The big distinguisher between the remake and the original is the presence of many elaborate musical numbers set to covers of 80s classics such “Kids in America” and “I Melt with You.” Choreographed by Mandy Moore, the sequences work pretty well, even though the covers are pretty terrible, the kind of stuff you’d hear on Kidz Bop. The film makes practically no case for why the music should be there, except in the sense that it’s fun to see people dancing in vibrant colors.

A refresher on the derivative nature of the original Valley Girl’s narrative, which borrowed heavily from Romeo & Juliet might be helpful going in to the 2020 version. Remake or not, Julie falling for a guy, Randy (Josh Whitehouse), her parents don’t approve of is a fairly generic plot. Rothe and Whitehouse have pretty good chemistry, a romance that is more satisfactory than compelling.

Putting aside the fact that none of the cast look young enough to be in high school, they’re quite entertaining to watch. As Julie’s friend Stacey, Jessie Ennis gets the most time to shine out of the supporting bunch. Mae Whitman is a bit overqualified as Randy’s bandmate, but makes the most out of her limited screen time.

The big casting disappointment is Logan Paul, tasked with the role of antagonist as Julie’s jock boyfriend Mickey. Paul’s detestable public makes him perfect for the role of loathsome blowhard, but he’s simply not a very good actor. For the most part, Paul fails to make an impression, a missed opportunity for a bit of self-deprecation.

Valley Girl treats the 80s like an Instagram filter, a film without a single drop of originality. An unapologetically fun guilty pleasure that’s pretty perfect for light summer fare. People who actually grew up in the 80s will likely hate the tropes the film traffics in, but it’s pretty clear that this remake is designed more for millennials, the kind of people who knew who Logan Paul was before he started getting in trouble on the news. The presence of Silverstone, a 90s teen icon, probably doesn’t help much either, though she’s very fun in a bit role.

The 80s aesthetic also provides an unintended benefit. Set in an idyllic period before cell phones, Valley Girl doesn’t need to work social media into its narrative. Few films understand that less is more with regard to portraying technology on screen. Valley Girl feels distinctly modern in its delivery, a trait bound to anger nostalgic viewers but one that ends up working pretty well for a young audience. For a film using bright spandex and catchy covers to masquerade as a period piece, Valley Girl is actually a lot of fun.

Thursday

7

May 2020

0

COMMENTS

Classic Film: Orlando

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Virginia Woolf’s Orlando carries plenty of natural appeal for transgender people. What’s not to love about a gender-bending aristocrat who travels through time to confront history’s perplexing relationship toward women? Two years before Forrest Gump won plenty of awards using a similar premise, Sally Porter’s Orlando beautifully adapted Woolf’s material for screen.

As the titular Orlando, Tilda Swinton crafts a remarkable performance that tosses the notion of gender right out the window. Pure elegance, she moves about the screen confident in their sense of being, even if Orlando frequently finds themselves a fish out of water. Orlando is a sexual being who defies all notions of sexuality.

Swinton understands that the key to understanding Orlando as a character requires one to strip down every single conceived notion about gender. That kind of process is inherently contradictory, for none of us can discard our frames of reference. The act of trying is the point.

Porter brings Woolf’s imagery alive through the film’s elaborate costumes. The sight of Orlando exquisitely dressed in lace and frills with a palette of foundation, regardless of gender, provides a layer of subtext that the written word simply cannot provide. The aristocracy is a performance, a spectacle to be seen and delighted in.

There’s a line late in the film’s second act where a nude Orlando boldly professes, “Same person. No difference at all. Just a different sex.” The eyes and the mind operate on two separate planes, seemingly in conflict with each other. The point is not to be equal, but to look at an individual beyond the stereotypes to see how women have been denied that basic sense of decency over the course of time.

Orlando is a story about agency. Women in England’s society lacked much to call their own, with little in the eye’s of the law to distinguish the entire sex from that of the deceased. Women were seen as little more as objects, muses to titillate the senses as long as they don’t step out of line. Shelmerdine (Billy Zane) is just about the one man in the film who understands this contradiction, though as a product of the status quo he struggles to introduce a satisfactory resolution that the Lady Orlando faces as a result of her change in sex.

Few films understand the value of gender as a spectacle better than Orlando. The elegant tapestry with which Porter paints is delightful to return to with each viewing. Many of the problems that Woolf first introduced almost a hundred years ago still remain, but the very act of engaging with these complex questions presents some optimism for a world where a person like Orlando could be embraced regardless of their gender.

Wednesday

29

April 2020

0

COMMENTS

Classic Film: So Dark the Night

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Nobody likes to be told they’re too old for anything, let alone love. Finality has a way of sucking all the hope out of a soul, leaving little but the regrets of missed opportunities. Humanity needs something to live for.

So Dark the Night explores the mindset of Henri Cassin (Steven Geray), an aging Parisian detective on holiday in the countryside, where a young girl Nanette (Micheline Cheirel) becomes infatuated with his talents and sense of worldliness. The sudden death of Nanette and her boyfriend/betrothed wreaks havoc on the small town. Henri’s efforts to uncover the killer lead to shocking discoveries that bring about many questions as to the nature of human consciousness.

Director Joseph H. Lewis does a remarkable job crafting each scene, often relying on uncomfortable camera angles. Many shots are partially obstructed by various points off the inn, creating a sense of claustrophobia as Henri struggles to search for the truth. The audience is frequently made to feel like a fly on the wall from room to room, listening in on intimate conversations.

Geray carries the narrative with his performance as the awkward protagonist. Henri is a strange man, a gentleman with a pleasant demeanor who leaves you feeling more uncomfortable in each passing scene. He’s a hard figure to root for, without leaving any obvious reason why.

So Dark the Night is a brisk noir gem that meticulously builds suspense over the course of its short runtime. There are no subplots. Lewis weaves character development in on the fly, always with his eye on the mystery.

The payoff has grand ambitions in its depiction of mental health, perhaps a bit lofty for 1946. Whether its diagnoses are fair or not, the film presents plenty for its audience to chew on long after the credits have rolled. So Dark the Night is bound to make many uncomfortable, but fans of noir will find plenty to enjoy.

Wednesday

29

April 2020

0

COMMENTS

Clementine Suffers From a Subpar Script and Aimless Narrative

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

A lake house seems like the perfect place to get away after a bad breakup. Unless your ex happens to own said lake house. Whether or not that’s an inevitable recipe for disaster leaves open soon wiggle room, the kind that Clementine is eager to explore.

Karen (Otmara Marrero), a lesbian in her early thirties, just wants to get away for a while, seeking solitude as she tries to get her affairs in order. Staying at a nearby cabin, the much younger Lana (Sydney Sweeney) seeks companionship, the kind of association born out of a shared sense of isolation. Lana has secrets of her own, but the comforts of solitude offer a kind of deceiving refuge.

Director Lara Gallagher relies almost entirely on her two leads to carry the film. Marrero and Sweeney are competent actresses, but their characters lack the much needed chemistry required to make the story compelling. The narrative loses practically all of its steam as a result.

The script doesn’t do the film any favors either. Gallagher sticks to quiet, minimalistic dialogue that does come across as quite realistic. The trouble with this dynamic lies in where it’s aiming its attentions, often the pseudo-philosophical musings of a stoned teenage girl. Sweeney is more than capable of delivering these lines in a manner that sounds authentic, but she can’t do much to make it sound interesting.

With a reliance on camcorders and landlines, Clementine often feels like a period piece. The absence of cell phones and other distracting forms of technology help heighten the tension, drawing the two leads together in the absence of much else to bide their time. Gallagher does a good job with the film’s aesthetics, an intimate setting where the kind of romance she hopes to kindle could believably take place.

Clementine gets by on the strength of its leads for a while, but the weak script and thin narrative let all of the air out long before the credits roll. There’s a lot to be explored in the realm of gay breakups, which haven’t received much attention from filmmakers. For a while, Gallagher keeps the intrigue up, but it’s not sustainable. Even worse, the third act possesses a plot twist that basically feels like a cheap stunt.

Intrigue isn’t worth much when it’s forced to run on fumes. Clementine is far more boring than it has any right to be. A fascinating premise that’s competently crafted, the film’s script undercuts its potential. A real shame.

Tuesday

28

April 2020

0

COMMENTS

Classic Film: In a Lonely Place

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

Movies capture brief snippets of their subjects’ lives. Even grand epics have to contend with the reality that each day represents a much larger chunk of time than even the longest feature. In a Lonely Place beautifully presents this dynamic, a narrative that captures the impermanence of romance.

Dixon “Dix” Steele (Humphrey Bogart) is a Hollywood screenwriter with an ego that hardly matches his career. Facing years without a hit, Dix is far too lazy to put in the effort to change his fortunes after being asked to adapt a book, instead relying on a restaurant hat-check worker Mildred (Martha Stewart) to come over and share the details of the book. Mildred is murdered after leaving Dix’s apartment, naturally leading to some suspicion, though neighbor Laurel (Gloria Grahame) is able to provide an adequate alibi for his whereabouts.

The bulk of the narrative focuses on the burgeoning relationship between Dix and Laurel, lovers brought together by tragedy. Dix, shown to have quite the temper, exhibits deteriorating mental health as he remains unable to shake the cloud of murder from his old friend Brub Nicolai (Frank Lovejoy), now working as a detective. Dix is a classic Hollywood blowhard, full of self-importance as his looks and personality attract many to his orbit.

Bogart gives one of the best performances of his career, elevating the odious Dix into a figure of great intellectual depth. He’s a man past his prime, and not completely unaware of that reality. It is an especially frustrating variety of stubborn to wear one’s flaws so blatantly on one’s sleeve.

Grahame is every bit Bogart’s equal, adding a degree of tragedy to In a Lonely Place’s already bleak narrative. She’s able to walk right into the lion’s den, dance with the devil, and still elicit sympathy for having fallen into Dix’s web. It’s a beautiful performance that leaves the audience’s emotions drained by the end.

Moments in Hollywood are fleeting by nature. Plenty of narratives have consumed themselves with this stark reality. It’s a place where dreams go to die, even in success. The happiest of circumstances can produce tragedy.

Set almost entirely in an upscale apartment community, In a Lonely Place often operates like a stage play. There is a great burden placed on the actors to constantly keep the tension alive, aided by a foreboding score. The pacing feels almost real time, capturing the essence of love’s fleeting moments.

In a Lonely Place is a triumph of the noir genre. Bogart captivates even while behaving insufferably, an intoxicating charm that operates in sync with the narrative. For a seventy-year old movie, the film feels as timely as either. Love is all-encompassing, until the point where it isn’t.

Thursday

23

April 2020

0

COMMENTS

The Garden Left Behind Is a Compelling Transgender Narrative with Lofty Ambitions

Written by Ian Thomas Malone, Posted in Blog, Movie Reviews, Pop Culture

The past few years have seen a push for narratives focusing on the transgender community to strive beyond the misery that has unfortunately dominated our stories. The transgender experience is more than a parade of misfortune, constant harassment and bigotry. Watching The Garden Left Behind, one might not be so sure of that.

Tina (Carlie Guevara) is a transgender woman struggling to support herself and her grandmother (Miriam Cruz) in New York City. Life as an undocumented immigrant presents many unique challenges for her transition, limiting her access to healthcare and job opportunities. Tina has a good support system with her friends, but lingers in a clearly abusive relationship.

Director Flavio Alves deserves a lot of credit for meticulously crafting an authentic trans narrative. There are plenty of actual transgender actors playing the roles, hardly a given in film. Guevara works wonders with the material, bringing a degree of authenticity desperately needed with the film’s rather wooden script.

The Garden Left Behind suffers from an unclear sense of purpose. The narrative bites off way more than it can chew in a ninety-minute runtime. Broadly, it mostly centers around Tina’s quest to go on hormones, but there are several scenes dedicated to broader trans activism that feel out of place. The film repeatedly makes the mistake of thinking it has to weigh in on every element of the trans experience, often at the expense of Tina’s story.

Alves leaves far too much on the table regarding Tina’s relationship with her grandmother, a loving woman understandably confused by her granddaughter’s transition. This dynamic is needlessly complicated, culminating in a truly bizarre scene between Tina’s grandmother and one of her friends, which should have involved Tina herself given the turn of the narrative.

The film’s third act is an over-the-top nightmare scenario for transgender people, irresponsibly venturing into the territory of trauma porn. Alves plays fast and loose with transphobia, including a lot of pointless slurs that provide little more than shock value. Cisgender audiences may find the constant barrage of misery compelling, but there’s just too much being thrown out all at once.

Compelling performances bolster a lackluster script that plays too hard for shock value. Alves’ film is worth a watch for cisgender people, but trans folk may want to avoid. The Garden Left Behind represents a step forward for trans visibility on screen, but the narrative bites off way more than it can chew.