A Complete Unknown

"I bargained for salvation, and she gave me a lethal dose."
-Bob Dylan ("Shelter from the Storm")

Modern-day biographical films about musicians often embrace a "great man theory" of music. That is, like the great man theory approach to history, in which some believe we can understand who we are through the examination of "great men" (powerful, transformational individuals—usually men—who were immensely talented), in biographical films, music can be understood by the contributions of a few exceptionally talented and famous individuals. Unfortunately, this great man approach has become hackneyed. Yes, it's impressive to watch Joaquin Phoenix become Johnny Cash or Jamie Foxx become Ray Charles, but both films (though fine) were so predictable that they became low-hanging fruit for a parody like Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. 

Some films (like Love and Mercy or Rocketman) have tried to be slightly different to avoid those pitfalls, and they mostly worked (though neither are great films), which brings me to A Complete Unknown, the James Mangold-directed film about the early years of Bob Dylan's career. A Complete Unknown doesn't try to rock the boat, though it simultaneously evades a check-the-box approach to these kinds of stories. We do see the story of young Bob Dylan, a great man of music (arguably the greatest—no other musician has an Oscar, ten Grammys, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, a Pulitzer, and even the Nobel Prize), and we see Timothée Chalamet deliver yet another fantastic performance in which he looks and sounds just like him. Yet fortunately for us (and perhaps mainly because it's Bob Dylan and not a musician whose life was a little more destructive), there are no scenes of him struggling with drug addiction, no scene where he gets so rich and famous that he abuses people, and no inevitable fall and glorious comeback. The biggest conflict in this movie seems to be him wanting to play an electric guitar at a folk festival.

That moment, of course, is not a simple footnote (for some reason) but a moment contentious enough that it has its own Wikipedia page and has frequently been cited as one of the most controversial music moments in history. Mangold is a talented enough director that he keeps these moments intriguing, even if you know what's coming, and with an active camera that flies up and back to show us the practically rabid folk fans throwing things at Dylan and calling him Judas, all the while he's unfazed by it in the most Bob Dylan way, Mangold and his cinematographer Phedon Papamichael would make Martin Scorsese proud.

It's not simply Mangold and Papamichael who deserve credit for such a feat. Much of A Complete Unknown is a compelling watch because of its actors, especially Edward Norton as Pete Seeger, Monica Barbaro as Joan Baez, and of course Chalamet as Dylan. Chalamat in particular seems to be perfectly incapable of bad acting; in just this past year, he was the star of both A Complete Unknown and Dune: Part II, and the two films collectively have thirteen Oscar nominations this year. The last time Chalamet was nominated was seven years ago for Call Me by Your Name, and one could certainly make an argument that he should have won then. (He lost to a much more theatrical and make-up-intense Gary Oldman in Darkest Hour.) 

Anyway, in A Complete Unknown, Chalamet, Norton, and Barbaro are all worthy of their nominations due to their very impressive singing and instrumental skills. Chalamet in particular gets that unique sound of Dylan's (what Jason Kelly described as a pinched Okie sound that mimicked Woody Guthrie's) and makes it all look easy. When he sings to a hospitalized Guthrie (played in the film by Scoot McNairy), it's moving in a sentimental way when someone meets their hero and it goes just the way it should; when he plays in the studio, his voice varies between reserved and liberated (based on the character's growing comfort and musical evolution). And maybe it was all in my head, but given that he's smoking in virtually every scene, it seems like he was able to incorporate the impact smoking has on the human voice in a way that doesn't come across as painfully obvious and forced (like Bradley Cooper was as Leonard Bernstein in Maestro). But Barbaro and Norton sure can sing, too, and the most charming scene in the film (or at least the one that doesn't involve Bob Dylan) is when Norton as Seeger leads his audience in a joyful rendition of "Wimoweh." 

Based on Elijah Wald's 2015 book Dylan Goes Electric!, A Complete Unknown avoids some of the aforementioned pitfalls of the typical biographical film about the great men of music by just focusing on Dylan's rise from 1961 to 1965. It's all a very romantic view of a struggling musician; when we first meet Dylan, he's crossing over into New York from New Jersey in the back of a stranger's car, jotting away in his notebook some notes for songs. He does it again the morning after spending a night in the home of folk hero Pete Seeger's home. Heavily promoted by Seeger as the man who can bring folk music to the masses, Dylan struggles to break through, but once he does, the rest is history. He sings at the 1963 March on Washington, courts Joan Baez (Barbaro), becomes the voice of a generation, and struggles with accepting his new-found fame.

Dylan enthusiasts whose favorite Dylan period is those early years will likely be thrilled with what they hear. A lot of those beloved tunes are included: "Highway 61 Revisited," "Mr. Tambourine Man," Girl from the North Country," "Blowin' in the Wind," "It Ain't Me, Babe," "Maggie's Farm," "Song to Woody," "Like a Rolling Stone," and others are all there. Whether or not this film has much appeal to audience members who are not Dylan fans or musicologists or anything like that is something I'm not sure I can answer. Still, it has grossed about $100 million since it was released last December, and it has eight Oscar nominations, though (despite a superb performance by Chalamet) it is the underdog in just about all of them. One way or the other, it is a recommendable watch.

My favorite Bob Dylan songs:

Note: This list was compiled in 2020 during the pandemic. I suspect the order would be slightly different if I were to devote more time to reorganizing it these days.

50. Jokerman
49. With God on Our Side

48. Bob Dylan's 115th Dream

47. Song to Woody

46. Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands

45. Heart of Mine

44. Saved

43. Billy 1

42. Love Minus Zero/No Limit

41. Mozambique

40. Main Title Theme (Billy) 

39. Tangled Up in Blue

38. Shelter from the Storm

37. House of the Risin' Sun

36. Outlaw Blues

35. Baby, Let Me Follow You Down

34. Ballad of Hollis Brown

33. I Want You

32. Maggie's Farm

31. Buckets of Rain

30. Shot of Love

29. All I Really Want to Do

28. Queen Jane Approximately

27. From a Buick 6

26. Masters of War

25. Wigwam

24. Girl from a North Country

23. Subterranean Homesick Blues

22. Ballad of a Thing Man

21. Visions of Johanna

20. Forever Young

19. Things Have Changed

18. The Man in Me

17. If Not for You

16. Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues

15. Hurricane

14. It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Lot to Cry

13. Highway 61 Revisited 

12. Desolation Row

11. Tombstone Blues

10. It Ain't Me, Babe

9. Mr. Tambourine Man

8. Blowin' in the Wind

7. The Mighty Quinn

6. Lay, Lady, Lay

5. All Along the Watchtower 

4. Rainy Day Woman #12 & 35

3. Knockin' on Heaven's Door

2. Like a Rolling Stone

1. The Times They Are A-Changin' 

Honorable Mentions: Chimes of Freedom, Emotionally Yours, Make You Feel My Love, Tweeter and the Monkey Man, Highlands, When the Deal Goes Down, Black Rider

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Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey

"Jangle" is a Middle English word that means to "talk excessively or noisily, squabble." This definition cannot be applied to our protagonist in Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey, the 2020 Netflix Christmas movie written and directed by David E. Talbert. When we meet Jeronicus Jangle, he is a toymaker on top of the world and is played in the opening scenes by Justin Cornwell. There is nothing he cannot invent, and his toy shop is the wonder of the world. Things can change so quickly, though, and by the time we see him again, he is alone, bitter, and disconsolate. In these scenes, he's played by Forest Whitaker, and he's anything but an excessive talker.

By now, Whitaker is of course one of our most treasured actors, but Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey is unlikely to be one of his most remembered roles, even though he sings fairly well in it. Part of that might be because the film seemed to come and go without much of a wintry splash; released on November 13, 2020, the film received positive reviews but not much chatter, even if it was during the era of everyone staying home and watching other Netflix programs like Tiger King. Be that as it may, it is currently ranked seventeenth on Rotten Tomatoes' list of the best Christmas movies ever, right in between the anime film Tokyo Godfathers and Edward Scissorhands. (Forget about the debate over Die Hard—is Edward Scissorhands really considered a Christmas movie?) 

Whitaker may do a fine job (though he leans in too heavily towards a mumbling persona), but many of the others in this Christmas fantasy do not, supplying acting that can only be described as forced, awkward, and overly theatrical. It doesn't help that the songs (written by John Legend, Philip Lawrence, Davy Nathan, Michael Diskint, and others) come across as energetic yet stale and are unlikely to remain in one's memory unless one has heard them repeatedly. They simply exist to provide only (and I mean only) the inner thoughts of the singer and nothing else. They don't move the film forward, they don't dazzle, and they certainly don't entertain. 

Jingle Jangle is a Christmas fable reminiscent of The Nutcracker; it even aspires to be E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial and WALL-E at different points, but it fails. In the story, Jangle's inventions (namely an animatronic and animated miniature matador voiced terrifically by Ricky Martin) have been stolen by his apprentice, Gustafson, played in most scenes (including his big musical number) by Keegan-Michael Key. Since the theft, Jangle has fallen into despair, turning his imaginarium into a pawn shop where he struggles to pay the bills. His daughter has grown up and moved away to raise her daughter in a cottage; they have not kept in touch.

One day, however, Jangle's granddaughter, Journey (played in a very charming performance by young Madalen Mills) is sent to visit her grandfather, whom she has never met. Jangle is not thrilled, and initially insists that she cannot stay. Eventually acquiescing, he forbids her from touching anything, even though she soon proves that she's just as much a genius as he is, though the topics that they are experts in are things like the "second derivative of sensational" and the "square root of possible."  

There are worthy aspects of the film, like its wonderful animation, sets, costumes, and other technical aspects, that are top-notch, and despite its weak start, the film does get more charming as it progresses, with the snowball fight (offering a glimpse of Jangle loosening up a bit) being a highlight. Children, in particular, could be quite captivated by it, especially as characters literally start to fly. To many adults, however, flying characters still don't do much to make the film feel fantastical. Despite these admirable qualities, I cannot recommend this film to most viewers. It checks a lot of boxes for a Christmas movie with all of its pageantry and magic, but it drags on for thirty minutes too long and can be a bore. I should also admit though that I initially couldn't stand Elf, and yet I now appreciate it much more with every viewing. Perhaps I will say the same one day about Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey. 

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Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (And a List of the Best Weird Al Songs)

It might puzzle viewers of the opening moments of Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (now streaming on Roku) as to why "Weird Al" Yankovic is being rushed into a hospital for emergency treatment due to a drug overdose. According to the real-life Al Yankovic, he's never taken drugs. So what gives?

The teaser trailer released earlier this year might have given the impression that Weird would be a standard musical biopic. The official trailer later, however, started to hint that things were not quite as they seemed. Did Weird Al have a romantic relationship with Madonna? Was he battling with drug abuse and alcoholism, as musical biopics demand? For the real Weird Al, the questions very much delighted him, as he revealed on Twitter. Yankovic has since clarified that he met Madonna for "like, forty-five seconds" backstage at an awards event in 1985. For me, though, I don't think the joke really sunk in until the very end of the trailer, in which Daniel Radcliffe, who plays Yankovic, shoves his cigarette into a music executive's hand. While it would be much more entertaining to watch the film not knowing that it is meant to be a parody of musical biopics (it makes sense that it does, of course, since Yankovic has made a career of parodying other songs), by now everyone knows this is not a serious film, though it plays as one. Weird is a spoof of those hackneyed Oscar-bait musical biopics (looking at you, Elvis) that we're all tired of.

Inspired by the viral success of Eric Appel's fake trailer for a Weird Al biopic nine years ago at Funny or Die, this film starts with a musical score sounding like it's right out of movies of a simpler time (think Forrest Gump, Beethoven, and The American President). The movie shows us Al as a young boy living a simple suburban life. But as a teenager, he just wants to play the accordion (what a rebel), an instrument his father angrily dismisses as the "Devil's Squeeze Box." One of the film's funniest lines is when the police return young Al to his parents and tell them, "I'm afraid we found your son at an accordion party." Despite his parents (played by Julianne Nicholson and Toby Huss) attempting to steer him away from his dreams of writing songs ("in an extremely specific genre of music," he tells them) and more towards a respectable career path, like his father's job at a factory in which nobody has any idea what is made, Al remains determined to write new words to songs that have already been written. 

All the tropes are deliberately there in this biopic, including the one in which the musical protagonist suddenly wows the unexpecting crowd by belting out a tune out of nowhere. It starts with Al hearing "My Sharona" on the radio while making sandwiches and suddenly coming up with "My Bologna," then later again at a pool party hosted by his father figure, Dr. Demento (Rainn Wilson) in a cameo-a-minute scene in which Al is challenged to spoof "Another One Bites the Dust." The result: "Another One Rides the Bus." At this point, it should be pointed out that there are "nuggets of truth," as Weird Al has called them in recent interviews, sprinkled throughout the film. "Another One Rides the Bus" is (obviously) an actual parody from 1981, which became an underground hit and was featured on his first album two years later. He also did, in fact, record "My Bologna" in a public restroom.  

From there, Weird Al faces a meteoric rise. But again, in this fictitious alternate universe, things are upside down. No finer example of this (other than dating Madonna, wonderfully played by Evan Rachel Wood as a villainess desperate for the "Yankovic Bump" that her records would receive if he would just parody one of her songs–oh, and all the parts with Pablo Escobar) is when Al releases "Eat It." Look, Weird Al Yankovic has released a lot of great songs that are actually originals and not parodies, and it's a pity that the public isn't as well-versed these songs, like the epic and absurd "Albuquerque" or the intense "Hardware Store" or the cathartic "Stop Forwarding That Crap to Me"—a song that speaks for us all. But everyone knows that "Eat It," with its obvious similarity to "Beat It," is not an original. Here, in this topsy-turvy world, it's the other way around. In Weird, "Eat It" comes first, and "Beat It" (the song by "that kid from the Jackson 5?") comes second, infuriating Al Yankovic, who at this point wants to be taken more seriously. 

For fans of Weird Al, especially the hardcore ones who likely know the originals mentioned above, Weird is a must. Those who have listened to his songs over the years as he turned songs like "Jeopardy" into "I Lost on Jeopardy" and "Lola" into "Yoda" will most likely enjoy it as well. Even those who have absolutely no idea who Weird Al Yankovic is will probably at least enjoy it a little. I did. However, there are problems with it, mainly with how late it is. The inevitable comparison of the film is to Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, the 2007 comedy starring John C. Reilly lampooning films like Ray and Walk the Line. "The wrong kid died," the line from Dewey's dismissive and cruel father, was far funnier than any of the father-son dynamics we see here. And the zenith of Weird's absurdity, as it shifts into a parody of action films of the 1980s, is a low point. Ultimately, especially as it inches through its third act, it simply becomes more and more smirkable and chuckable than downright hysterical.

Radcliffe, though, delivers one of his best performances, as does Wood. They definitely have comedic chemistry. They both can sing in real life, so it's unfortunate we don't get to hear them sing a few tunes here. And Weird Al's new song for the movie (titled "Now You Know") is one of his best. I just wish I enjoyed the rest of the movie as much as I did this new song.

The Best Weird Al Songs:

50. My Baby's In Love with Eddie Vendor
49. I Think I'm a Clone Now

48. I Love Rocky Road

47. Mission Statement

46. (This Song's Just) Six Words Long

45. The Brady Bunch

44. Happy Birthday

43. King of Suede 

42. Word Crimes

41. Midnight Star

40. That Boy Could Dance

39. The Biggest Ball of Twice in All of Minnesota

38. Alimony

37. Polkarama! 

36. Polka Your Eyes Out

35. Now You Know

34. Good Enough for Now

33. Dare to Be Stupid

32. Isle Thing

31. My Bologna 

30. Fun Zone

29. UHF

28. Christmas at Ground Zero

27. Nature Trail to Hell

26. Polka Power!

25. Smells Like Nirvana

24. Perform This Way

23. Money for Nothing/Beverly Hillbillies 

22. Dog Eats Dog

21. Slime Creatures From Outer Space

20. One More Minute

19. Handy

18. The Hot Rocks Polka

17. Talk Soup

16. Foil

15. Mr. Frump in the Iron Lung

14. Fat

13. Jurassic Park

12. Yoda

11. Eat It

10. White and Nerdy

9. Sports Song

8. Hardware Store

7. Attack of the Radioactive Hamsters from a Planet Near Mars

6. Albuquerque 

5. Stop Forwarding That Crap to Me

4. I Lost on Jeopardy

3. Like a Surgeon

2. Amish Paradise

1. The Saga Continues

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Till the Clouds Roll By

It was surprising to me that when Lin-Manuel Miranda and his team decided to release Hamilton on Disney+ earlier this month, it was not a musical adaptation as is typically the case in Hollywood, but instead a filmed version of the staged show in 2016. This seems like a risky way to adapt the famous musical, but it worked. Marian Watts noted in Newsweek that the approach Hamilton took to adapt the musical for the screen was successful, whereas the 2004 film The Phantom of the Opera was not, comparing the latter to an overstuffed painting. 

Till the Clouds Roll By, the 1946 MGM musical based on the life of Broadway composer Jerome Kern, tries to take the Hamilton route, but it is much more of a Phantom. It's not a musical adaptation of anything, but its musical numbers are all staged productions of some of his most famous hits, like "How'd You Like to Spoon With Me" and "Ol' Man River," and neither the numbers nor the scenes of dialogue are particularly interesting.

Indeed, at first it seems that that's all it will be: some kind of collection of uninspiring numbers, one after the other failing to excite anyone other than music history lovers. Some of these songs are immortal, but none of them are compelling to watch in this film, directed by Richard Whorf and produced by Arthur Freed (who once exposed himself to a twelve-year-old Shirley Temple). The musical numbers are boring, even the ones featuring Judy Garland, Angela Lansbury, Lena Horne, and Frank Sinatra. All the star power couldn't help this film stay afloat. 

Many critics were aware of this at the time. Bosley Crowther at the New York Times questioned why such a film should be made. "Why quibble about the story?" is how Variety put it. That's a very good question. While relatively more recent biographical films of famous musicians, like Ray or Walk the Line, may share a similar sense of being unnecessary, at least there are stakes in those films. Those musicians' stories featured real rises and falls. No such drama exists in Till the Clouds Roll By, an overly sentimental yawn that goes on and on for 132 minutes in an era in which the average full-length motion picture was between 90 and 100 minutes. With all due respect to Kern, in terms of an engaging story, he was no Ray Charles or Johnny Cash.  

Kern is played by Robert Walker. Trying to climb the musical ladder in an era when England ruled Broadway, he travels across the Atlantic, where he meets lots of English people who speak with American accents, like a lady he falls for named Eva (played by Dorothy Patrick). Walker and Patrick may have at least some chemistry, but it's the bare minimum. After some time in the middle of the film in which he respectfully woos her (except for when he tells her she's "pretty for a working girl"), the two flirt and banter and eventually marry. 

Then she more or less disappears from the film, ceding again to focus on the real relationship of the film: the songwriting partnership between Kern and James Hessler (Van Heflin), a fictional character, but their relationship isn't much more interesting. We see these two grow "a little grayer," but we're never given a reason to care. The film tries to add some element of drama by having Sally, Hessler's daughter, grow up to become a singer. Kern writes a song for her, but the producer of the show thinks the song should be sung by real-life actress Marilyn Miller (Garland). Sally, played by Lucille Bremer, is heartbroken, jealous, and disillusioned, and she's treated paternalistically by "Uncle Jerry," so much so that she runs off. A few minutes are devoted to Kern's search for her, mostly in the form of a montage of men shaking their heads "no," presumably to answer if they know her whereabouts. But she eventually shows up in unremarkable fashion. Hurray!

Till the Clouds Roll By is a disappointing and tremendously boring biographical film, one that often feels awkward and clumsy. This sort of film are almost always tedious, but this one is especially so. It doesn't help that most of the non-singing cast is not putting much effort into it. It takes about an hour and a half before Garland appears. She sings a few numbers by Vincente Minnelli, her husband at the time. Her voice is always exceptional, even if the material she is singing is not. Till the Clouds Roll By would have been much more interesting from her perspective instead of from that of Jerome Kern. 

This article was originally published at the Public Domain Film Review, found here.  

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The Muppets Christmas Carol

Ebenezer Scrooge does not care for the so-called "surplus population". He's actually quite clear about it. In Charles Dickens' 1843 novella A Christmas Carol, when Scrooge is petitioned by two do-gooders trying to help the poor, he barks at them that "if [the poor] would rather die [than go to poor houses] they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population!" That famous line is uttered verbatim by this version of Scrooge played by Michael Caine in the 1992 musical, The Muppets Christmas Carol. It shouldn't be that surprising; the same line is often kept in high school productions of the famous story, as well, like the school play featured in a fascinating episode of Planet Money two years ago that details Dickens using his cruel character to represent the views of economist Thomas Robert Malthus, whom Dickens found to promote inhumane, misanthropic economic ideas at a time when so many were suffering. But it surprised and impressed the adult me that The Jim Henson Productions decided to keep such a line in their adaptation.

The kid version of me always liked The Muppets Christmas Carol, the first Muppets movie without founder Jim Henson (to whom, along with puppeteer Richard Hunt, the film is dedicated) and the first to be distributed by Disney. Despite its use of the famous line described above, this is a non-restrictive adaptation of this famous story because, well, most of the characters are played by Muppets. Kermit the Frog (Steve Whitmire) is Bob Cratchit, and predictably his wife is played by Miss Piggy (Frank Oz, who also served as executive producer of this film and directed Caine four years prior in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels). Other than that, this adaptation largely follows Dickens' story, which is important. Children, the target audience of the film (and perhaps one day the novella), may grow up to be considerably less mean than Scrooge, but that may be because famous, universal stories like these are so didactic. Toning down everything by having Scrooge be a little nicer and having everything be perfectly cheery would have been a mistake.

It seems unnecessary to detail the story and plot of this movie. Practically everybody knows about Dickens' famous tale, how a miserly grinch named Ebenezer Scrooge is visited by three spirits (the Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Future) to warn him that his cruel ways shall have consequences. Surely, every viewer can envy Scrooge for such a gift to see not only the past and future but also what people are truly saying behind their backs in the present. Such tactics are necessary, for Scrooge, a ruthless banker who underpays his workers, has such a negative effect on everything. Things seem to get quite dark and cold as soon as Scrooge, or "Mr. Humbug", as the Muppets sing, walks hurriedly to his office. 

Scenes can get pretty spooky at times in Scrooge's journey to understand his terrible ways, especially when the fire extinguishes and the ghosts appear and haunt Scrooge in his own home. In The Muppets Christmas Carol, the Ghost of Jacob Marley is now the ghosts of Jacob and Robert Marley, played by Statler and Waldorf (performed by Jerry Nelson and Dave Goelz, respectively). The creepy tone doesn't stop when they exit, however. The Ghost of Christmas Past (a ghastly animated doll voiced by Jessica Fox) and the reaper-like Ghost of Christmas Future (puppeteered by Robert Tygner and performed in-suit by Don Austen) are also unearthly.  

The film, though, is definitely a comedy, one that's as humorous as the Muppets can make it. The gags and pratfalls (things like Rizzo the Rat falling into a bucket of frozen water or a Muppet cat crashing into a suddenly closed door) will likely still get quite a few laughs from children, but adults will at least appreciate the spoken humor. Screenwriter and longtime Muppets collaborator Jerry Juhl's script employs that famous Muppets wit. 

Additionally, the production design by Val Strazovec and art decoration by Dennis Bosher and Alan Cassie are exemplary. (It's also clever. Look closely as Caine sings "Thankful Heart" in town and you'll see a store called Micklewhite's. Michael Caine's real name is Maurice Micklewhite.) Other production elements that deserve praise are Miles Goodman's score and the songs by Paul Williams, especially "Scrooge", "Thankful Heart", "When Love is Found", and "It Feels Like Christmas", sung wonderfully by Nelson as the Ghost of Christmas Present. One song that was controversially omitted from the theatrical version was "When Love Is Gone," sung by Scrooge and the woman who at one point was his fiancé, Belle (Meredith Braun) in the scene from his past. Disney is the one who has been blamed for that, apparently believing that the song wouldn't appeal to young children. However, the lost piece of film was finally found earlier this month.   

Caine's singing is so-so; he's able to carry a tune but is sometimes a bit flat. It doesn't matter. This isn't Abba or Les Misérables. He's singing with Muppets, so he's allowed to have imperfect pitch and range. Besides his singing, his acting is terrific. Caine is completely believable as Scrooge before and after his transformation and enlightenment, able to depict Scrooge's cruelty, curiosity, and compassion with ease. The sharpness in which he delivers the lines is also that of a master in his field. When Kermit diplomatically reminds Scrooge that the latter wants eviction notices to be sent out on Christmas, Scrooge replies, "Very well. You may gift-wrap them." The acidity in his delivery is remarkable. Caine, delightfully, likes the movie as much as you do, telling interviewer Lauren Larson that he still watches it all the time with his younger family members. He took the work seriously, too, claiming at the time that he approached the project as if he were working with the Royal Shakespeare Company. It doesn't matter if he's with Kermit and Miss Piggy; he appears as if he's very devoted to his craft while also having a ball, as will most people watching this film. It may not be the most rambunctious Muppets production, but it works. For many, it's actually the best adaptation of the famous story. Children should see it (preferably with the recently found footage). They'll laugh, they'll be frightened from time to time, and they'll at least learn that people are people; sometimes they struggle, but they should never be written off as "surplus". 

Dedicated to Mary, my mother, a fan of this movie.

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The Prom

The new musical The Prom is kind of like the Pete Buttigieg of musicals, which is too harsh to Buttigieg, whom I generally like (and preferred over the eventual nominee), but I get why a lot of people don't care for him. I'm not the first one who has thought of similarities between Buttigeg and The Prom; Zachary Stewart wrote about the resemblance of the two last year, but Stewart and I seem to have come to different conclusions. At first I thought Stewart's article was meant to be an insult—both Buttigieg and The Prom are hardworking yet bland and try to be really appreciated. Ultimately, however, they're gay stories presented mainly for straight, centrist audiences.

In fact, centrism is one of the major flaws of this film. The Prom, directed by Ryan Murphy and written for the screen by Chad Beguelin and Bob Martin (who wrote the show with Matthew Sklar), is a movie that likes to think of itself as being self-aware—it is, after all, a show that pokes fun at celebrities embracing activism to help a lesbian student in order to improve their image and brand—and yet it's not as self-aware as it would like to be. Its satire falls flat, and its message of love and acceptance comes across as smug, superior, and outdated. The clearest example of this is undoubtedly the big solo by Trent, the actor in between gigs whose over-beaten joke is that he went to Julliard. In the song, Trent (pretty creepily) stalks a bunch of the conservative teenagers at the mall to sing a song called "Love Thy Neighbor", where he points out all the hypocrisy and absurdity of religious people cherrypicking Bible verses to boost their political agenda. In the long history of arguing over this issue, pointing out the parts in the Bible that would send most of us to Hell has never worked to convince anyone to support queer people. The song, with on-the-nose lyrics including lines like "love trumps all," comes across as if Aaron Sorkin in the late 90s had written it.

The character at the center of this story is Emma (Jo Ellen Pellman), a gay teenager in Edgewater, Indiana, who, like most teenagers, wants to go to her high school's prom. However, the PTA, led by Mrs. Green (Kerry Washington), eventually cancels the prom to prevent Emma and her girlfriend (who happens to be the closeted Alyssa Greene, Mrs. Greene's daughter, and is played by Ariana DeBose) from attending. Emma, though, has powerful allies in her corner, one of whom is the principal (Keegan-Michael Key, whose singing is quite good), and the other four (with more questionable motives) are washed-up Broadway actors.

Two of these stars are Dee Dee Allen (Meryl Streep) and Barry Glickman (James Corden), who have just closed a show on Broadway in which they played Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt. The biting reviews of their performances finish them. Lacking the will to crawl out of such disappointment, Dee and Barry, while washing away their sorrows in alcohol with chorus girl Angie Dickson (Nicole Kidman) and Trent Oliver (the actor in between gigs played by Andrew Rannells), they stumble upon the anti-lesbian controversy in Indiana on Twitter. Now they have a publicity stunt to save them! So the four of them decide to make their way west to Indiana to demand that this small, backward town change its ways, whether Emma wants their help or not. This cynical, haughty, misguided, fake-woke behavior of the foursome is a major driving point of the story, and in better hands, it could have gone somewhere. Instead, we get unbelievable character arches, boring songs, and fanciful embroidery pretending to be critical art. 

Like Love, Simon two years before it, the place and time of this story is peculiar. GenZ is the most progressive generation alive, and yet this movie would have us believe that the entire student body is united in intolerance toward Emma. Don't get me wrong: It's no question that young queer people still face terrible challenges (like homelessness, for example, in which LGBTQ youth are 120% more likely than non-LGBTQ youth to suffer from; Emma is one of them after she is disowned by her parents), and not being allowed to attend prom with their dates is certainly one such challenge. There is a long history of students fighting for this right, dating back to 1980 in a court case called Fricke v. Lynch in which the court ruled that school bans on same-sex couples attending prom is a violation of students' freedom of speech. Nine years before The Prom debuted on Broadway, a school in Mississippi cancelled its prom instead of allowing a lesbian couple to attend. In a situation similar to what happens in The Prom, a secret dance was planned by the parents instead, and the two gay students were not invited. A similar controversy happened last year in the exact same school district. 

So, why not have the film take place either several decades ago or in present-day Mississippi? It seems like a trivial thing to criticize the movie for, but it's also something I kept thinking about. Putting this story in a modern-day, middle-class Indiana suburb makes what happens in The Prom feel hyperbolic. Believe it or not, Mississippi isn't Indiana (support for same-sex marriage in Indiana was sixteen points higher than in Mississippi, according to polling conducted three years ago). There are so many troubling stories of queer students being discriminated against at schools and proms across the entire country in cases that could have served as the civil rights issue for the film, but an entire school board and student body working to unleash, with surgical precision, gratuitous amounts of humiliation on a school's apparently only out lesbian student in present-day Indiana was not believable to me. 

Even if the above points didn't bother me, there's not a whole lot to praise in The Prom, with its acting in particular being a disappointment. It wouldn't be fair to say that Pellman, who makes her debut here, provides a one-dimensional performance in her role as the kind, persevering Emma, but for a character who is meant to be going through a variety of different emotions and turmoils, Pellman puts forward more or the less the same expression and note in every scene she's in. It could be that this was done deliberately to be Emma's mask in the face of such hatred, but I didn't get that impression. 

Much of the other discussion about the acting has centered on Corden's performance, with articles in IndieWire, Yahoo News, and Buzzfeed all devoting ink to what many viewers will likely take away from his acting: a straight actor leaning heavily into stereotypes, resulting in an unseemly display of gay-face. I agree with these critiques, and I wish that Corden had known better. (I do think he can sing, though.) The controversy aside, his chemistry with Streep mostly works, and she's essentially as good as she's ever been, but she's never really given a bad performance, has she? I just wish she had found a better movie to be in this winter than a feel-good yet phony musical in which the songs all sound the same.

The Prom is the type of movie that feels two decades too late. I had low expectations for The Prom, and they were met. 

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Hamilton

2020 has not been the kindest year to the United States of America. As everyone knows, the country leads in COVID-19 cases and deaths, which as of this writing are at 2.8 million and 132,000, respectively. The ensuing recession has been like none before it, with unemployment reaching at least fifteen percent and then eleven percent, where it currently is. Fierce outrage over the murders of George Floyd, Aumaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and others have led to massive protests in all fifty states. These protests and conversations have also resulted in the removal (sometimes by force) of statues and paintings glorifying slavers, racists, and traitors from previous centuries.

During this pandemic, and one that takes place as the country's citizens grapple with its past, normal acts of patriotism and celebration during this holiday are misguided, at best. Perhaps Disney+, of all things, offers a slightly less problematic way of learning about U.S. history in the form of the most famous musical in recent times. Hamilton, the enormously successful musical about Founding Father Alexander Hamilton, written by Lin-Manuel Miranda, has made its way to the screen earlier than planned due to the pandemic. And instead of a new adaptation, which would have been the more predictable route, this is simply a filmed version of the Broadway production. 

Filmed in June of 2016 (which, in retrospect, was such an innocent time), Miranda's musical famously casts a diverse group of actors to tell a story of famous white men. It was inevitable that some form of the original cast's production would hit the screens, as the actors have since become quite busy. Some examples: Miranda has worked with Disney several times, writing Oscar-nominated music for Moana in 2016 and co-starring in Mary Poppins Returns in 2018. Leslie Odom, Jr. (who plays Aaron Burr, one of Hamilton's arch rivals) was in Harriet last year; Daveed Diggs (Thomas Jefferson and Marquis de Lafayette) wrote, directed, and starred in the 2018 film Blindspotting. Jonathan Groff (King George III) has appeared in the Frozen movies and as the lead in the Netflix crime series Mindhunter. If an adaptation was to be made, it would be tricky getting the band back together. So perhaps it's for the best that the stage show is now streaming on Disney+, as (like Fiddler on the Roof decades before it), the music is starting to get a little overplayed and the cast has moved on.

Hamilton is a long show, but it moves quickly. (Apparently, it would last four to six hours if it went at the pace of most other Broadway shows.) So quickly, that when it finally takes a moment to slow down, it becomes a bore. The show starts with the amazing number "Alexander Hamilton", followed by "Aaron Burr, Sir" and then "My Shot", so within just a few moments we've been rapidly given much of his story. I don't blame Miranda for trying to cover so much ground in such little time; it takes biographer Ron Chernow, whose 2004 biography served as the inspiration for this musical, about a hundred pages to finally make his book at least somewhat interesting.

During the war, Hamilton (played by Miranda) becomes an assistant to George Washington (Christopher Jackson), despite a rocky relationship between the two due mainly to the fact that Washington won't (at first) allow Hamilton to command during battle. After the war, once Washington becomes the first President of the United States, Hamilton becomes the first Secretary of the Treasury. Cabinet battles between Secretary of the Treasury Hamilton and Secretary of State Thomas Jefferson over topics regarding the power of government and whether or not to aid France are depicted in rap battles. He also marries a woman named Eliza (Philippa Soo), but also gets himself involved in the country's first sex scandal, all while accumulating quite a few enemies, namely Aaron Burr (Odom, Jr.), who is engaged in increasing competition and rivalry with Hamilton.

I first saw the musical in London two years ago (though I probably wouldn't have if I had known it would be available on streaming at a much more affordable price a year and a half later), and I remember my stomach slightly clenching as King George III slowing walked onto stage wearing mockingly ostentatious attire, thinking to myself that there would be copious amounts of palpable tension and awkward silence from the crowd. This wasn't the case, fortunately. George III is played by Jonathan Groff, and it's his scenes that I like the best. He opens the show as the announcer asking attendees to turn off their phones. "Enjoy my show," he tells the audience. It doesn't matter if it makes sense or not for him to be there. Hamilton never met George III. In the musical, he doesn't serve much of a purpose. But his three numbers, all following the same tune (that of a '60s Britbop, as the New York Times called it), are wonderful comic relief. King George is written and played kind of as a sophomoric and manipulative ex-boyfriend, warning the Americans that they'll soon come crawling back to him once they see how difficult it is on their own. Groff relishes every syllable as he sings "'Cause when push comes to shove, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love" as he immediately shifts to a long da-da-da-da-da segment that brings the number to a close. There's a few chuckles throughout the rest of the musical, but nothing as funny as these scenes.

The Brits may have been okay with how one of their former leaders was depicted and lampooned, but I was surprised that a show described as "revolutionary" by the Wall Street Journal would treat Thomas Jefferson and George Washington with such kid gloves. They may have been Founders, but more importantly they were slavers, and it's odd to watch such generous treatment towards these figures in a time when the nation is grappling with how much praise (if any) should be given to them. This isn't a new thing; it would have been just as necessary five years ago to be critical towards these two.

Much of this show is about not simply one man but of the complicated and painful history regarding race in this land. So it is frustrating that since it became famous, Hamilton has sort of served as a litmus test for white liberals who want to prove how woke they aware. But there is an uncomfortable dichotomy that white liberals would rather not talk about: this is a brown show that plays for white audiences. Like, all white. (Apparently, Art Garfunkel was one of the rather disruptive ones.) Rian Johnson even poked fun at this last year when a white character in his comedy Knives Out quotes the musical and says, "Immigrants, we get the job done," before informing the other person (who has no idea what he's talking about) that he saw Hamilton on stage. Additionally, as many have pointed out, one of its numerous criticisms is the fact that gender parity is low here. There are only three female characters who have speaking lines, and all of them only exist in the narrative because they revolve around Hamilton, the great man of this show. There is only one scene in which the three have a conversation with each other about something other than Hamilton. If Miranda and his team were bold enough to cast people of color as the the founders of the U.S., why then couldn't they have cast women in these roles, as well? Miranda has since said he is okay with the idea, but it's perplexing that he didn't think of it then.

Of his music, though, there is nothing quite like it. Miranda has been deservingly showered with a variety of awards for Hamilton: the show won eight Drama Desk Awards, eleven Tony Awards, and the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. Hell, he even rescued Alexander Hamilton from historical non-relevance, as Hamilton was saved from being removed from the $10 bill after the popularity of this musical became apparent. His singing may be a bit noticeably nasally, his storytelling might have an issue or two (if you require an engaging plot and character development, this musical might not be for you), and the story and how we view it, as Siddhant Adlakha has brilliantly described, has changed so much since 2016. As Adlakha put it, "It was made for a different America." But Miranda's music will live forever. Hamilton has changed how we think of musicals for the better, and if you can tolerate the problems with the show, it will be an enjoyable, less problematic, and safer way to enjoy the Fourth of July.

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Rocketman (And a List of the 50 Best Elton John Songs)

"I've always wanted to smash a guitar over someone's head. You just can't do that with a piano."
-Elton John

Rocketman, the biographical musical about Elton John from his childhood until the 1980s, is yet another rags-to-riches tale of a rock star who flew a little close to the sun. Fortunately, Rocketman, though not the best, is less dull than last year's similar film. It might be unfair to do so, but I do not know how to view this film and reflect on it without comparing it to Bohemian Rhapsody, the Oscar-winning biographical film on Queen singer Freddie Mercury. Both were directed by Dexter Fletcher (though he didn't receive credit for Bohemian Rhapsody because he replaced ousted Bryan Singer), both deal with real-life queer artists, and both, obviously, portray iconic British rock stars. But the similarities don't stop there. Both feature the manager John Reid, who is played here by Richard Madden. (Reid was portrayed, a bit more sympathetically, by Aiden Gillen in Bohemian Rhapsody.)

Rocketman is undeniably better than Bohemian Rhapsody. For one, it's far less stale (though inevitably at least a little too similar to all the other biographical films of famous musicians over the years). Bohemian Rhapsody was a realistic musical from the very beginnings of Queen until the famous Live Aid concert less than a decade before Mercury died. The songs you heard in that film largely showed the behind-the-scenes drama in making them. In Rocketman, the famous Elton John songs serve as impetuses for set pieces, often with energetic choreography to back them up. They are placed as if they would be in a Broadway musical, driving the narrative and that sort of thing. At the beginning of the film, for example, John shows up in one of his elaborate, camp show costumes to an addicts meeting. He's a smart aleck in his response to the leader's questions, shrugging them off with a joke that falls flat about how his dealer was out of town so the meeting seemed like the next best thing. But then he sees an image of his younger self (played by Matthew Illesley), and because one of his most famous songs contains the opening lyrics of "I was justified when I was five, raisin' Cain, I spit in your eye," the opening number is "The Bitch Is Back," one of his most beloved.

A better example of this is its use of "Crocodile Rock", which we see him play during his U.S. debut at the Troubadour in 1970. (Fact check: Elton John didn't play "Crocodile Rock" at the Troubadour in 1970 because the song wasn't released until 1972.) In a fantastical style, Fletcher and his crew channel the famous photo of John hovering in air to temporarily turn the film into a fantasy, before bringing it back down to earth for the fun we expect. Outside of the musical numbers, though, the fun lacks, perhaps justifiably. There's a serious amount of attention to the depiction of Elton John's parents (Bryce Dallas Howard as his mother and Steve Mackintosh as his father) as being unsupportive to one degree or another. And a biographical film about a famous musician (particularly a rock and roller) is not complete without a rock-bottom fall induced by drugs. The film more or less accurately depicts John swallowing a bunch of pills and nearly drowning in his pool a few days before playing to an enormous crowd at Dodger Stadium in LA.

But probably the most emotionally moving aspect of this film is the relationship between John and his long-time lyricist, Bernie Taupin, played here by Jamie Bell. John has claimed in interviews that the two of them have never argued about music, and in fact have likely never argued about anything. There is an argument depicted here in the film, though. Elton is dressed in another splendidly outrageous costume before heading out on stage, and Bernie questions why is behaving so. Elton blows up at him and marches past, but just before appearing in front of the adoring fans, he slightly turns back, places his hand on Bernie's arm, and quickly apologizes. Much attention has been given to the sex scene in Rocketman (not between John and Taupin), but the most moving love is the platonic relationship of these two musical geniuses.

Before concluding, it must be said that Taron Egerton is incredible as Elton John. That is all of him singing, and it's a performance in which an actor commits as much as is possible. To say he is impressive and among the best performers of the year is a severely gross understatement.

The Best Elton John Songs

Honorable Mentions: Holiday Inn, Tonight, Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word, Bite Your Lip (Get Up and Dance!), Mellow, Passengers, Believe, El Dorado

50. Ballad of a Well-Known Gun
49. The Greatest Discovery
48. The King Must Die
47. Razor Face
46. Grey Seal
45. Bad Side of the Moon
44. Ballad of Danny Bailey (1903-34)
43. The Nasties
42. Can I Put You On?
41. Lady Samantha
40. Carla/Etude
39. Teacher, I Need You
38. Sixty Years On
37. Electricity
36. I Guess That's Why They Call Them the Blues
35. Sweet Painted Lady
34. Country Comfort
33. Don't Go Breaking My Heart
32. Elderberry Wine
31. The Cage
30. Rock and Roll Madonna
29. Border Song
28. Take Me to the Pilot
27. Your Sister Can't Twist (But She Can Rock and Roll)
26. Step Into Christmas
25. Can You Feel the Love Tonight?
24. I Just Can't Wait to Be King
23. Mona Lisa and Mad Hatters
22. Empty Gardens (Hey Hey Johnny)
21. Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding
20. I'm Still Standing
19. Are You Ready for Love?
18. The Circle of Life
17. Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
16. Your Song
15. Daniel
14. Benny and the Jets
13. Levon
12. The Bitch Is Back
11. Someone Saved My Life Tonight
10. Curtains
9. Better Off Dead
8. Philadelphia Freedom
7. Crocodile Rock
6. Honky Cat
5. Tiny Dancer
4. Candle in the Wind
3. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
2. Rocket Man
1. Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)

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Bohemian Rhapsody (And a List of the 50 Best Queen Songs)

It's hard for me to hate a film that celebrates some of the greatest music of the past century from start to finish, so hate it I shall not. It should be noted, however, that many people do hate this film, the Freddie Mercury biographical film Bohemian Rhapsody, but it's also a deeply popular film that many have adored, especially those who were around during the Queen years. My mother, for example, has called it one of the greatest films she has ever seen, and one couple has apparently seen it at least 24 times, calling it "two hours of freedom."

I don't share their enthusiasm for Bohemian Rhapsody. I'm not sure why it was nominated for Best Picture (although it would have been more worthy of the win than the winner, Green Book). It won a handful of Oscars last Sunday, and I'm not sure it deserved any of them, to be honest. What to really make of this film?

Rami Malek, most famous before this film for playing the lead role in the television series Mr. Robot, took over playing Queen lead singer Mercury after Sacha Baron Cohen dropped out over creative differences. Malek certainly looks like Mercury, though he also seems a bit too thin. At any rate, he won the Oscar for Best Actor, making him the first Arab-American to do so. I'm not sure I would have picked him for the award. For one, I've grown tired of watching the Academy reward imitation, as they always seem to do. Second, I'm impressed with Malek's ability to convincingly portray the famous singer, but it is Mercury's singing voice they've used, not Malek's, which is distracting. Bradley Cooper provided his own vocals for A Star Is Born, so perhaps he would have been more deserving.

Malek is joined by Ben Hardy as drummer Roger Taylor, Joe Mazzello as bassist John Deacon, and Gwilym Lee as guitarist Brian May (that's Dr. May, now, for he has his PhD in Astrophysics, something the film jokes about). Mercury, Taylor, Deacon, and May. You won't find many bands quite like that, one in which all created different songs. (As a matter of fact, the Beatles are the only other one presently coming to mind.) The four actors do a decent job portraying them, with Lee's voice sounding remarkably similar to May's. Both May and Taylor served as creative consultants for the film, and both appeared with Adam Lambert to open this year's Oscars. Allen Leech, Aiden Gillen, Tom Hollander, and Mike Myers (in lots of makeup) appear in supporting roles.

I think the biggest complaint about this film that everyone can agree on is that it checks all the boxes in the biographical film format. We see how Queen met, we see their rise, we see Mercury become a bit of a drug addict, we see them rise again. It was sort of tolerable when Walk the Line and Ray did it years ago, but after the parody film Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story ripped the formula to shreds, it's remarkable that those involved in making Bohemian Rhapsody didn't consider that many would roll their eyes at a movie employing all these tropes once more.

  

You'll hear a lot of the famous songs and sometimes how they were made. These scenes are generally good fun. Much of the rest of the film, however, is a bit of a bore. There is not much emotional weight here, save for a few moments, but it basically drops them in an instant and moves on to the next bit of action. The highlight of the film is probably the re-creation of the band's highly acclaimed performance at Live Aid in 1985, which everybody has watched or re-watched on YouTube over the past few years. It's the one part of the movie no one can object to. That being said, all they're really doing is re-creating a moment in pop culture history that everyone likes, so it's debatable as to whether or not that's much of an accomplishment.

Much has been written about Mercury's sexuality and how the film portrays it. Even when the very popular trailer was released, people were up in arms over the film's supposed mishandling of the issue. When Malek accepted his Best Actor Oscar, he identified Mercury as a gay man instead of bisexual. I'm not sure I sympathize with their argument. May, in an interview with Terri Gross in 2010, gave what sounds like a clear answer. Gross said we don't know exactly everything about Mercury's sexual orientation, and then May told her that Mercury would often say, "I'm gay as a daffodil, darling." So I don't think this film qualifies as bi-erasure. That being said, if you'd like to read a fair critique of how Bohemian Rhapsody addresses queerness, I recommend reading Jude Dry's article from IndieWire and Taylor Henderson's article from Pride.

Is Bohemian Rhapsody a bad film? I'm not sure I would go there. I would not want to snobbishly lecture so many people who've fallen in love with it. But it's forgettable, and certainly not worthy seeing twice, let alone 24 times.

Best Queen Songs:

50. Made in Heaven
49. Millionaire Waltz
48. Thank God It's Christmas
47. Bring Back That Leroy Brown
46. The Miracle
45. The Prophet's Song
44. I Was Born to Love You
43. Headlong
42. Invisible Men
41. Hammer to Fall
40. Man on the Prowl
39. Melancholy Blues
38. Fight From the Inside
37. Seaside Rendezvous
36. I Want It All
35. Innuendo
34. Sail Away Sweet Sister
33. It's a Beautiful Day
32. Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon
31. Play the Game
30. Death on Two Legs (Dedicated To...)
29. Track 13
28. A Kind of Magic
27. Good Company
26. Teo Torriatte
25. The Loser in the End
24. Save Me
23. It's a Hard Life
22. Now I'm Here
21. In the Lap of the Gods
20. '39
19. Keep Yourself Alive
18. The Show Must Go On
17. Who Wants to Live Forever?
16. Princes of the Universe
15. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
14. Somebody to Love
13. Crazy Little Thing Called Love
12. Bicycle Race
11. Don't Stop Me Now
10. You're My Best Friend
9. Killer Queen
8. Radio Ga Ga
7. Fat Bottomed Girls
6. I Want to Break Free
5. We Are the Champions
4. Another One Bites the Dust
3. We Will Rock You
2. Under Pressure
1. Bohemian Rhapsody

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