"But when the two rabbits run side by side, How can you tell the female from the male?" -"Ballad of Mulan" "The emperor walked into the most obvious trap in fake chinese history and then started doing bed sheet kung fu (sic)." That is how Chinese writer Xiran Jay Zhao, the author of an upcoming book about Wu Zetian, the only female emperor in Chinese history, nearlyconcludedher multiple-tweet disappointment in the new Disney live-action remake of their 1998 animated hitMulan. Her frustration is understandable. In countless tweets and re-tweets, she joined numerous others in expressing predictable frustration at this Disney remake. Surrounded by controversy and delayed due to the pandemic (although now available for $29.99 on Disney+), this newMulan, which waited on the shelves of development hell before finally being directed byWhale Rider director Niki Caro, is finally here, and it's...not that bad, I guess? But alas, it definitely has loads of issues.
This Mulan is a motion picture riddled with contradictions. The costume design is beautiful, yet it's designed by Bina Daigeler, not an Asian designer. The film has exciting fight scenes, but they're also kind of ridiculous and they don't present anything we haven't seen before. Mulan makes for an effective action hero, but any character arc or development is absent. Instead, her comrades cheer "I believe Mulan!", and the filmmakers hope we don't groan in disbelief too loudly. Despite these problems, I couldn't help but at least be moved by some scenes, even as I rolled my eyes at others.
Mulan (Liu Yifei) is someone who has always required patience as she learns "how to control herself". Despite her natural tendencies as a leader, she is told by her parents that she needs to hide her gift away, and that her main job is to bring honor to her family through marriage. A matchmaker (Cheng Pei-pei) instructs Mulan that a good wife is to be quiet, composed, and polite, yet Mulan does not believe these are characteristics for her. She believes she is loyal, brave, and true (although the two groups of adjectives aren't necessarily contradictory to each other). Truthfulness is the quality that she struggles with the most throughout the film, mainly because she disguises herself as a man.
Due to invading armies, the emperor (Jet Li) decrees that every family must send one man to join the defending army. But Mulan's family has no son. There is only her, her sister (Xana Tang), her mother (Rosalind Chao), and her father (Tzi Ma), who requires a cain for walking and is not in fighting condition. Declaring that he has been blessed with two daughters, Mulan's father chooses to fight and represent his family. For Mulan, this is not an option. Late in the night, she steals her father's armor, sword, and horse and rides off to join the army. Effectively disguising herself as a man and avoiding showering with her fellow soldiers, she perseveres and trains under the leadership of Commander Tung, played by Donnie Yen, who fought with her father in a previous war. Tung and the character Chen Honghui, played by Yoson An, are both based on the character Li Shang from the animated film. Splitting Li Shang into two characters, while well-intentioned, has sparked controversy.
There has been lots of other controversy regarding this film over the past year or so. The one that has gotten the most attention is Liu's comments on Twitter supporting the police brutality against pro-democracy demonstrators in Hong Kong. (The calls for a boycott of the film also helped coin a new nickname for Agnes Chow, a pro-democracy activist in Hong Kong, as "the real Mulan".) Liu is a human being, and she is entitled to her opinions, regardless of how abhorrent they may be. But another controversy of the film had little to do with Liu and could entirely be blamed on Disney: its non-Asian crew. None of the principal crew members (its director, four screenwriters, costume designer, etc.) are Asian, with some describing the attitudes of the screenwriters as "orientalist". Amanda Silver, one of the screenwriters, recently told an interviewer that their "research" brought them to the epiphany that the Eastern hero embraces "filial piety". I don't even truly know how to respond to that. Perhaps if Disney had invested in having actual Chinese screenwriters, this updated Mulan wouldn't have been so cringeworthy. Beyond that, I thought we were past the point of actors speaking English in a movie that is meant to be throughly Chinese, but at least they got the "filial piety" in there. In fairness to Silver, the film's focus on family is its strongest moments. They are the scenes that work the best. The family dynamics are also what made The Farewell last year such a compelling film, and we were given plenty of it. In Mulan, it shows up in the beginning and the end and that's it. (Incidentally, Ma played the father in both films.) But the screenplay and its dialogue are really the weakest part of the film, often devoid of humor and essentially stripped of any queer subtext that the first film had.
Much of Mulan requires a heavy amount of suspension of disbelief (see bedsheet kung-fu), especially when it comes to the action scenes. Last year, there was a teenager in China named Wang Weitian whose walking-on-air exercises went viral, but even he could not do what Bori Khan (the villain played by Jason Scott Lee) and the Rourans do in this film, like run up walls. In a Disney animated film, no suspension of disbelief is required. Audiences buy the fantasy the minute they agree to watch a cartoon in which people sing. Nobody points out the ridiculousness of there being a red dragon voiced by Eddie Murphy, but a witch in a live-action historical film invites copious amounts of justifiable repudiation. At least Gong Li, the Meryl Streep of China who plays this character, assisting Bori Khan and his army, provides one of the more interesting performances in the film. She and Mulan are the only ones given any ounce of complexity. Again, in the 1998 animated film, Mulan has much more depth; that's what happens when you allow characters to sing their hearts out to communicate their inner turmoil.
At least Mulan tries to do different things. With last year's The Lion King, audiences were given a banal shot-by-shot remake, and any new element only harmed the film further. Here, enough of what made the 1998 film work is back; Christina Aguilera even returns to sing "Reflection", one of Disney's best songs, and composer Harry Gregson-Williams' incorporation of the theme into his score might give you goosebumps. But unlike The Lion King, perhaps including more of the original would have helped this new Mulan. To not hear "Honor to Us All" and "I'll Make a Man Out of You" is a reminder that the original animated musical is superior to this update. Thus, as is the case with just about every one of these money-grabbing remakes, the originals should have been left alone. There already has been a live-action version of this famous story, the 2009 film from China. Though I haven't seen it, it sounds more interesting than this Mulan, which is about as mediocre of a live-action film as any Disney movie has made.
In the opening moments of Miss Juneteenth, the debut feature film of writer and director Channing Godfrey Peoples, a woman is looking through her old dress from a pageant. Accompanying this scene is "Lift Every Voice and Sing", the song often referred to as the "Black national anthem" and written by writer and activist James Weldon Johnson and his brother J. Rosamond Johnson in the early 1900s. This is an obviously very deliberate choice on the part of Peoples and her team, not simply because of its historical importance, but also because of its usage in other forms of art, like the 1989 film Do the Right Thing and Maya Angelou's 1969 autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Angelou looms large in Miss Juneteenth. It is the poem that helped the film's main character, Turquoise Jones (played by Nicole Beharie), win the Miss Juneteenth Pageant in 2004. It seemed her victory would help lead her on to better things, like becoming a doctor or a lawyer, as other winners have. This is not the case for Turquoise, who now is a single mother, working late-night shifts at a bar.
Peoples is not concerned about providing her audience every detail about Turquoise and her past. We know that her mother was tough, perhaps abusive. We know that Turquoise gave birth out of wedlock, and it's hinted that she was very young when she became pregnant. We don't exactly know what derailed her plans, other than the pregnancy. But as much as Peoples does not concern herself with giving us all the explanations, Turquoise herself is very much concerned with what happened and how to avoid the mistakes of the past. The opening shots of her, the ones set to "Lift Every Voice and Sing", convey to the audience that nostalgia will be an important element of this story. But it is not simply nostalgia in a good way. We often feel nostalgic when things are not going well; it feels like a necessary part of our ability to persevere. If this nostalgia helps Turquoise keep going, then more power to her. The problem is that we sometimes we become more stressed or depressed when we feel nostalgic. Thus, she strives to have her daughter, Kai (Alexis Chikaeze), follow in her footsteps, but only partly so she doesn't find herself in similar circumstances later in life. Kai, however, is not interested in the pageant. She would prefer to try out for the dance team, but Turquoise doesn't approve. She doesn't even want Kai to do a dance for the competition, but instead recite Angelou's poem "Phenomenal Woman", as she did.
It seems that one thing after another goes wrong for Turquoise. She has to choose between paying for electricity and paying for the entrance fee for the pageant (which, again, Kai doesn't want to take part in). Turquoise's evangelical mother is disappointed in her, as is (implicitly) most other people, even the ones who are kind to her. "I had high hopes for you, Turquoise," seems to be a reoccuring sentiment. From Kai's perspective, it's one humiliation after another, from celebrating her fifteenth birthday in the dark to wearing casual clothes instead of a fancy dress because her father (Kendrick Sampson) didn't give them the money he had promised.
Both Beharie and Chikaeze are exceptional in Miss Juneteenth. Their acting is marvellous, as are the characters they're playing. Turquoise is an authoritative but caring mother, and both Turquoise and Kai find ways to compromise. That relationship, between mother and daughter, is the heart of the film. And while the film opines from time to time, its opinions are not front and center either. At first it may seem that Peoples is criticizing the Miss Juneteenth Pageant. This is not the case. She has said in interviews that while she was never a Miss Juneteenth herself, she feels nostalgic for the pageant in Texas. Juneteenth was sometimes in the news this year for controversial reasons, and it seemed like this year was the first time many white folks had heard of the holiday. The film is slightly didactic in that a bit of history of the event (celebrating the emancipation of enslaved people) is provided. But it's the characters that the film is most concerned about. The mother and daughter can't always understand each other, but they try, and they look out for one another. Indeed, this is the best mother-daughter film since Wadjda. Like Wadjda, Miss Juneteenth is directed by a woman and stars women, much like the other best movies of the year, like Never, Rarely, Sometimes, Always, Saint Frances, and others. I greatly look forward to seeing more work by Peoples, Beharie, and Chikaeze.
As expected, Donald Trump has just commuted the sentence of Roger Stone, his longtime friend and political advisor. Apparently, according to the White House, children and teachers can risk their lives going to school during a pandemic, but prison is too medically risky for Mr. Stone, who was convicted on seven counts this year, including witness tampering and lying to investigators. He was sentenced this February to over three years in prison. This episode was yet another reminder of a seriously flawed justice system, one in which Trump seeks to throw those toppling statues of slavers in jail for ten years but will bail out his buddies. Stone certainly has company. He is one of seven Trump associates who have been found guilty of criminal acts since 2016; the others include Trump's former lawyer (Michael Cohen), former campaign advisor (George Papadopoulos), and Paul Manafort, his former campaign chairman. Manafort is a longtime partner and friend of Stone's and is interviewed in the Netflix documentary Get Me Roger Stone about this infamous politico.
Written and directed by Dylan Bank, Daniel DiMauro, and Morgan Pehme, Get Me Roger Stone does not offer an attempt at repackaging and redeeming a rightwing figure like another Netflix documentary called Mittdid only a few years before it. If you hate Roger Stone, your hatred of him will only be fanned. If you don't like the guy but find yourself frequently defending him to your progressive friends, seeing a documentary like this might only make you more uncomfortable. Nobody likes Roger Stone, so I don't need to go any further with a third category.
In the documentary, Stone describes himself as an "agent provocateur". Trump describes him as a "dirty trickster". Stone happily wears that badge, as he frequently does the Nixon pose, embracing this image of a counterpuncher who doesn't always follow the rules with tremendous glee. He dresses the part as well. Everyone has seen pictures of him in those ridiculous suits and a bowler hat and glasses that make him seem as if he's begging to be punched. The schmuck even drinks a martini while being interviewed here. All rightwing provocateurs like to think of themselves as Bond villains, but Stone doesn't make the grade. He's not a Bond villain, but more like a 1960s Batman villain, an agent of chaos more in the mold of Caesar Romero than Heath Ledger.
Two years ago, Trump went to Twitter to hilariously cry that because he "won" on his first try (what adult talks like that?), he was not just smart, but a genius. But that's not true. I mean, obviously he's neither smart nor a genius. But aside from the fact that he lost the election by nearly three million votes, his first political adventure was in 2000, during Trump's efforts to be the nominee for President of the United States of the Reform Party (which surprisingly still exists). Trump sought the Reform nomination, and ironically argued the nominee shouldn't be Pat Buchanan because Buchanan was too racist. Who served as one of Trump's advisors? Roger F-ing Stone. Trump lost the race for the nomination, which Buchanan won. Stone then returned to Trump's inner political circle in the early days of his next campaign before he was fired (or before he quit, as he says). Stone is assumed to have recommended Manafort to be Trump's campaign advisor before he, too, quit (and now sits in prison, unable to get Trump's sympathy in a way Stone has).
Get Me Roger Stone progresses in a similar way to the renowned 2003 documentary The Fog of War, directed by Errol Morris. Like Morris, Bank, DiMauro, and Pehme get Stone to discuss his "rules" or lessons. There are so many rules he likes to dish out, but the only one you really need to understand is the first one he tells us: It is better to be infamous than not famous at all. He has an almost humorous way of finding himself in every sort of major U.S. political event, including both stolen elections of 2000 and 2016. He was a Nixon aid and was even discussed during the Watergate hearings. Regarding his Nixon fetish, he's a contrarian to be sure; no one likes Nixon, and nobody talks about him in positive ways. But Stone does, and the affection seems genuine. Stone has a tattoo on his back of Nixon's face, and his mother, according to the documentary, once told him that his religion is politics and his god is Richard Nixon. After Watergate, he became close with McCarthy's guy Roy Cohn (that Roy Cohn), who likely also served as a mentor to Stone in the dark arts of political fighting. (It was Cohn who introduced Stone to Donald Trump.) Along with Manafort, their partner Charlie Black, Lee Atwater, and later Trump, Stone championed the fight-dirty-but-win attitudes the Baby Boomer New Right has cursed us with.
Despite how rat-like he is, Stone comes across sometimes in a remarkably charming (yet insufferable) way. Among others interviewed in Get Me Roger Stone are Jeffrey Toobin, Tucker Carlson, and of course, Donald Trump. But they're all boring to listen to compared to Stone. He also makes surprisingly compelling arguments. "Hate," he tells the interviewer, "is a stronger motivation than love." Democrats learned that the hard way after their silliness about "when they go low, we go high" got them nowhere. Charismatic and knowledgable were not two adjectives I associated Roger Stone with before watching Get Me Roger Stone.
However, since the documentary was released, Stone has been different. The man is certainly not well. In his disposition from earlier this year, he sat like a rabid dog, aching to bite his peculiar teeth into the flesh of an opponent. By that I mean he literally chomped his teeth, as if they had a mind of their own and were willing to screw up his life even more than he already had. Any normal person who has had to witness an unhinged rightwing uncle ruin everyone's Thanksgiving with a rant about the so-called Deep State will surely recognize this when watching the clip. For a man who seems to revel in making everyone else angry, it is utter bliss to watch him so easily lose his shit.
The one small sliver of solace one can find in the saga of Roger Stone is a simple fact: By now, other than fringe alt-right figures who pose an undeniable threat to the United States and to civilization, no one likes or admires a person like Roger Stone, and surely no one will mourn when he finally leaves us. Even most of the people interviewed in the documentary don't heap praise on him. His daughter admits he's a trickster, and his wife tells us that when she met him, she thought he looked like a member of the Hitler Youth.
All of this nonsense has been normalized these past few years. "Now the children's table is the adult table," someone says in the documentary. How true that is. In 2015, at the first GOP debate, Trump was asked about all the money he had given to politicians before he himself became one. (Trump's money giving is addressed in Get Me Roger Stone, as well.) "When they call, I give," he said. "And you know what? When I need something from them, two years later, three years later, I call them. They are there for me." For a man who is a serial liar, that is a profoundly honest and accurate statement, one that would have likely cost him a generation or even a decade or two before. But these are different times, partly because of guys like Roger Stone. The documentary is successful at drawing lines between Nixon to Stone to Trump. Stone complains in the documentary about it all being "a swamp", the term Trump often uses to shift blame for not solving problems. It may be a swamp, but it's a swamp that celebrates Roger Stone as a founding member.
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.
Five years ago, the New York Timesreported on how reconciliation might truly be taking place in Vietnam, as Vietnamese veterans of the "American War" sat and joined their former enemies (U.S. veterans) while eating chili and chicken wings to celebrate the Fourth of July. Almost 90 percent of young Vietnamese (at least as of 2015) have a favorable opinion of the United States, with many studying in the U.S., while many U.S. veterans have moved back to the country they once fought, often trying to help with charitable causes, like to help the victims of Agent Orange effects. "We have closed the door on the past," one of the Vietnamese veterans says.
Da 5 Bloods, the newest film directed by Spike Lee, focuses on four U.S. veterans of the Vietnam War; for them, the door to the past is not yet closed. They, too, find themselves back in Vietnam, now cosmopolitan and entirely different than when they left. Two former Vietcong members buy them some drinks. The four strut across the dance floor (all pretty well) and argue about Trump. (Paul, the veteran played by Delro Lindo, wears a MAGA throughout the film.) They raise their glasses in a toast with the former VC. "The American War is over," they declare. All four are together, and they will soon be joined by a fifth. "Amen," they say as they cheer.
So why are they back in Vietnam? The veterans–Paul (Lindo), Otis (Clarke Peters), Eddie (Norm Lewis), and Melvin (Isiah Whitlock, Jr.)—fought together in the war under their squad leader, "Stormin' Norman" (played in flashback scenes by Chadwick Boseman). Norman was their Malcolm and their Martin, we are told. With Norman, they learned a lot about politics and history, like how Crispus Attucks was the first American to die in the Revolutionary War. Without Norman, though, they are cast adrift in modern Vietnam. Despite a happy initial reunion, they head back into the jungle and things start to go awry. The impetus for going back to the battle scenes is to retrieve literal treasure they buried there during the war. The five were under instructions to provide gold to the Lahu people on behalf of the U.S. government as payment for helping them fight the Vietcong, but they decided to bury it and retrieve it years later to help their community.
The flashback scenes don't serve the film well, mostly due to that this is Lee's first war film. Also at fault is the composer, Terence Blanchard, whose music is mostly fine throughout the rest of Da 5 Bloods, yet odd and distracting in these battle scenes. So, too, is the fact that Lee keeps Lindo, Peters, Lewis, and Whitlock as they are with minimal makeup effects. There are no Irishman-esque de-aging effects in this Netflix film. It's neat at first, but it becomes a distraction. But fundamentally, the problem is that directing war scenes is not Lee's strength. None of these flashback scenes are interesting. He pays his respects to Apocalypse Now and Platoon, but doesn't seem to have learned anything from them.
Just when you think Da 5 Bloods is veering into the realm of being too predictable, there are numerous surprises thrown your way. Some may cause you to roll your eyes and say, "Oh, come on." Indeed, the kind of film it ends up becoming is wildly different than the kind of film it started in the beginning, with the final product feeling like a hybrid of Richard Linklater and Quentin Tarantino. This may or may not contribute to the overall clunkiness of the film's pace. The ungainly tempo continues into the epilogue of the film, which is often the most memorable moments of the films Lee directs, like Malcolm X and BlackKklansman. At first it seems that will be the case with Da 5 Bloods, but then it kind of shifts around a bit and it draws some conclusions that seem misplaced.
Tales of matchmaking usually are lackluster. That is certainly true in Emma., the new adaption of the famous 1815 novel by Jane Austin directed by Autumn de Wilde, in her debut, with a screenplay written by Eleanor Catton. Trying to ride on the coattails of the immensely successful adaptation of Little Women directed by Greta Gerwig last year, De Wilde and her team, particularly production designer Kave Quinn and costume designer Alexandra Byrne, do an exceptional job at recreating early nineteenth century English estates, but alas, there are people (boring people) whose stories are told here, making for an uninteresting film.
Anya Taylor-Joy is Emma Woodhouse, whom Austin described as "handsome, clever, and rich." (The film's poster reminds us of this.) Taylor-Joy, who has been on a roll since her debut in the 2015 horror film The Witch, certainly fits the part, doing as good a job as possible leading a cast that doesn't succeed in keeping up with her. Emma becomes a companion of a young orphan named Harriet Smith (Mia Goth), and she decides to steer Harriet towards an ideal man. This is despite the fact that a young farmer has asked for Harriet's hand in marriage. For a reason that's unclear in the film (indeed, most of Emma's motivations throughout the story don't make any sense), Emma convinces Harriet to deny the farmer's hand in marriage and instead try to woo the local vicar, Elton (Josh O'Connor). Elton, however, is infatuated with Emma, not Harriet, and he makes quite a show when she turns him down, and cares not if he has hurt Harriet's feelings.
As for Emma, despite frequently screwing things up for the young orphan she's supposed to look out for, she starts to fancy Frank Churchill (Callum Turner), the stepson of Emma's former governess. Despite that infatuation, she will soon start to fall for George Knightley (Johnny Flynn), a young estate owner whom she often banters with. That, however, proves to be yet another problem, as Harriet starts to fall in love with George after he rescues her from being alone without a dance partner at a local ball. This is a very simplistic summary of what happens, as within twenty minutes of the film, there will be so many names to keep track of that you might want to consider bringing a pen and paper for notes.
Old novel or not, this is not an interesting plot. In fact, nothing is interesting about this story or adaptation. Why? Plot and acting, neither of which are noteworthy. Aside from Taylor-Joy, most of these performances aren't that interesting to watch. Flynn is fine as George, but Bill Nighy as Emma's father, the biggest star in the film, does essentially what he does in the majority of his performances, moving his arms about and chortling in a way that's admittedly hard to mimic but not so impressive at this point of this illustrious actor. Much, if not most, of the actors do a sort of physical comedy that seems better suited for a high school play, in which audiences would only laugh due to parental pride and remarkable kindness. I've never seen another movie in which the act of standing up and sitting down was thought to be funny, but it appears to be that that was the aim here. Chewing food and drinking tea isn't particularly funny, either, but this film seems to disagree with me.
One example of someone trying too hard is O'Connor as Vicar Elton. O'Connor has already amazed audiences with his versatility (he played one of the leads in God's Own Country and currently plays Prince Charles on The Crown). But while some of his previous work has demonstrated his ability to gain an audience's sympathy for the characters he plays, here he is mismatched. Vicar Elton is a vile character, prone to temper tantrums and not much of a man of God as he's supposed to be. There is nothing sympathetic about Elton, and so it's almost as if O'Connor is not sure what to do. He can screech and whine to decent effect, but the other scenes are just him raising his eyebrows as if O'Connor really, really wants us to know that Elton is up to no good.
Miranda Hart, though, it must be said, is a joy to watch. In a scene in which Emma insults Miss Bates at a picnic, one really feels for her. And her shouting to her hard-of-hearing mother at a dinner scene that she "must sample the tart" is the film's sole memorable moment.
It's a pity that a film like this has turned out to be so surprisingly dull and insufferable. It is at least wonderful to listen to its score by Isobel Waller-Bridge and David Schweitzer. Byrne's costume design is also stupendous and worthy of praise. I liked these elements of Emma., but virtually nothing else. Maybe it's because I've never read the famous novel, or because I haven't seen the 1996 version, or because I barely remember Clueless, which was loosely based on this story. All I can tell you is that I was bored out of my mind, and I hope I never have to watch Emma. again.
Songs have a unique ability to affect movie scenes in a profound way. Some films can exist without any music (The Birds being a notable example), and if it works, then it works. But the twenty films listed below would not have lasted as long as they have in the public imagination without the power of songs. Just as Star Wars would not be Star Wars without John Williams' unforgettable score, all of the following films would have been undoubtedly weaker without their famous songs.
I've decided to restrict this only to songs originally from movies. Thus, beloved movie songs like "As Time Goes By", "Singin' in the Rain", and "Everybody's Talkin'", all of which came out years before they were immortalized in Casablanca, Singin' in the Rain, and Midnight Cowboy, respectively, are not included. You also won't see any musical numbers that originated in theater. I don't know why the American Film Institute for their list of the best movie songs in 2004 used a song like "The Sound of Music", which wasn't originally for the film, when they could have used the song "Something Good", which was originally written for the movie (and is far superior). (At any rate, as fantastic as "Something Good" is, it's not on this list, either.) The same goes for a few unforgettable songs by rock stars. For example, you'll find a Prince song on this list, but you won't find any of the great songs by Pink Floyd from the film The Wall, the 1982 musical that used songs from their 1979 album.
The best movie songs are: 21. Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (Monty Python's Life of Brain)
"Always Look on the Bright Side of Life", from the 1979 comedy Monty Python's Life of Brian, is perhaps the best musical representation of the British "stiff upper lip" attitude there is. It is certainly a song, with its advice to chin up and keep going (even if you're being tortured by Romans), that has endured; Eric Idle, who wrote the song and performs it during the final scene of the film, even sang it at the closing ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics. These days, it's especially popular at funerals. "Galaxy Song" from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life is also delightful. 20. Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid)
Memorably sung by B.J. Thomas, "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head" is written by the songwriting team Burt Bacharach and Hal David, who both won the Oscar for Best Original Song; Bacharach also won for Best Original Score. Bacharach won another Oscar for co-writing the song "Arthur's Theme (Best That You Can Do)". It's an unusual song for a Western, but Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is an unusual Western. As good as the radio version is, it's something else to watch the complete version with orchestration as Paul Newman charmingly rides around on a bicycle, pursued by an ox.
19. Take My Breath Away (Top Gun)
Written by Giorgio Moroder and Tom Whitlock and performed by the band Berlin,
"Take My Breath Away" won the Academy Award for Best Original Song in 1987. The 1980s in cinema have often been lampooned for the gratuitous (and fake-looking) lovemaking scenes, and the love scene in Top Gun between Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis is pretty random, but "Take My Breath Away" elevates the scene above the rest. The rhythm by Mororder (nicknamed "the father of disco") is iconic; ten years ago, Saturday Night Live had some fun with it (with a little help from Paul McCartney). 18. You've Got to Hide Your Love Away (Help!)
Written and sung by John Lennon, "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" is not the best Beatles song, but that just reminds us how great most of their music was. (At least it's one of their fifty best.) For a film as cluttered and dull as Help! is, it's a breath of fresh air when the Fab Four pause for a moment, relax in their room, and sing a song that has nothing to do with the plot (if that word can be used) of the film. It's a great tune, one you've likely often heard on the radio, and it features Lennon channeling his inner-Bob Dylan. 17. Let's Go Crazy (Purple Rain)
"Purple Rain" may have been the song more widely associated with Prince, but the chart-topping "Let's Go Crazy", which opens the album and the film, is the superior one. (It certainly wasn't played ad nauseam after the star's death in 2016.) A eulogy for "this thing called life", "Let's Go Crazy" is an energetic masterwork from an artist at the top of his game. All of the songs on this album are terrific, and "Let's Go Crazy" is the perfect way to start it. Prince's songs "Trust" and "Partyman" for the Batman soundtrack are likely honorable mentions on this list. 16. Stayin' Alive (Saturday Night Fever)
"Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees is the coolest song on this list. It was a huge success for the group, and they would eventually tie the Beatles with six consecutive number-one hits (before Whitey Houston beat them both with seven). John Travolta strutting down the streets of New York to this song is him at the peak of his coolness, and the only time he has come close to matching it was when he and Uma Thurman danced to "You Never Can Tell" in Pulp Fiction. Travolta was already a star from television, but Saturday Night Fever made him a superstar, earning him an Oscar nomination. The song was not nominated. It has, however, literally saved lives. Last year, a man used the information he learned from a hysterical episode of The Office regarding "Stayin' Alive" to save a woman's life.
15. 9 to 5 (9 to 5)
Widely celebrated as one of Dolly Parton's most popular songs, "9 to 5" feels like a call-to-arms and tribute to workers everywhere. Parton wrote and sung the song for the comedy of the same name that starred her, Jane Fonda, and Lilly Tomlin as three office workers who team up to overthrow their sexist manager, played by Dabney Coleman. Particularly with lines like "they just use your mind and they never give you credit," "9 to 5" also has a strong feminism bent to it. It was even used by Elizabeth Warren during her recent campaign for president. Earning an Oscar nomination, it reached the number-one spot on three Billboard charts. As Wikipedia puts it, the project "launched her permanently into mainstream popular culture."
14. Mona Lisa (Captain Carey, USA)
The wonderfully calm "Mona Lisa" originally comes from the 1950 film noir Captain Carey, USA, starring Alan Ladd. It was written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, the songwriting team who also wrote "Silver Bells", the Oscar-winning "Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)", and the theme music for Bonanza. "Mona Lisa" earned Livingston and Evans an Oscar for Best Original Song. The original version in the film is performed by Charlie Spivak, but the most well-known version has been Nat King Cole's, whose rendition topped the charts for five weeks in 1950 and was featured in the film of the same name in 1986, starring Bob Hoskins and Michael Caine.
13. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (Meet Me in St. Louis)
"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" can always be heard on the radio at Christmastime, but many have forgotten that it is originally sung by Judy Garland in the 1944 MGM musical Meet Me in St. Louis, directed by Vincent Minnelli. Written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, it's a song about persevering and "muddling through" at a time that often can be difficult for many; it stands in contrast to many holiday songs that are overly sappy. The Frank Sinatra version is fine, but it contains a line that should be more controversial: The story goes that Sinatra was going to include it on his album A Jolly Christmas, and he asked Martin to "jolly up" the line about "we'll have to muddle through somehow." Martin stripped the song of its necessary melancholy by changing it to "hang a shining star upon the highest bough." Stick with the Garland version; it's better. 12. Be Our Guest (Beauty and the Beast)
Sung with such an apparent sense of fun by Jerry Orbach, Angela Lansbury, and others, this song really took Beauty and the Beast completely into the realm of enchantment. After all, the silverware are singing songs about French dining. The song was written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken; they were also nominated for the song "Belle" earlier in the movie. Both songs lost; the winner was the film's title song, also written by Ashman and Menken. Ashman and Menken won the same awards for The Little Mermaid two years before Beauty and the Beast. After Ashman died, Menken continued writing songs and music for Disney animated films, winning four more Oscars for Aladdin and Pocahontas. 11. Theme from New York, New York (New York, New York)
Possibly the best-known song about New York City, we have Robert De Niro, in his third collaboration with Martin Scorsese, to thank for this song, as the songwriters John Kander and Fred Ebb have claimed that De Niro criticized their original theme, thus sending them back to start from scratch. While the film was not as much of a critical success as others directed by Scorsese, "New York, New York" the song will last forever. And while the version by Liza Minnelli, the star of the film, is fantastic, this song has since been closely associated with Frank Sinatra, who recorded a version just after the film was released, and is probably the best version. 10. (I've Had) The Time of My Life (Dirty Dancing)
Composed by Frank Previte, John DeNicola, and Donald Markowitz, this iconic climactic scene would not be nearly as unforgettable without the song and the vocal performance of Jennifer Warners and Bill Medley. The title of the film had apparently concerned Previte that he had walked into the wrong kind of movie, but he became convinced that the movie would change his life, so he took it. In addition to winning a Grammy, it won Best Original Song at the 1988 Oscars. It also was number one on the Billboard Top 100. According to Patrick Swayze, the team had turned down 149 songs before finally settling on "(I've Had) The Time of My Life", and even though they had already shot that final dance scene with another song playing, they re-shot it to the new one.
9. Unchained Melody (Unchained)
Like "Mona Lisa", the original version of this song might surprise you when you hear it, for it sounds remarkably different than the more famous version. It's originally from a 1955 prison film called Unchained and was written by Alex North and performed by Todd Duncan. The song was nominated for Best Song but lost to "Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing" from the film of the same name. "Unchained Melody" has since been recorded my more than 670 artists in several different languages, with the most famous version being by the Righteous Brothers in 1965. That version was used in a very sensual scene between Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze in the 1990 hit romance-horror-comedy flick Ghost, which also incorporated it into its musical score by Maurce Jarre to great effect. 8. White Christmas (Holiday Inn)
Irving Berlin's nostalgic holiday song and its many cover versions are frequently heard around Christmas. Berlin was Jewish, so reportedly it was not a simple task for him to write a song about Christmas nostalgia. He did, though, and it's a notably secular song, one that has been immensely popular for the past seventy years. The lyrics, as everyone knows, are about someone dreaming of having a snow-filled Christmas like the ones they used to remember, of children singing and Christmas cards and all that fun stuff. With a positive wish that everyone has a merry and bright Christmas, it's a very soothing tune, especially Bing Crosby's version.
7. Lose Yourself (8 Mile)
Widely regarded as one of Eminem's best (if not his best) raps, "Lose Yourself" was the first hip-hop song to win Best Original Song at the Academy Awards, an award it richly deserved. Eminem wrote the lyrics in between takes during the filming of 8 Mile, and other than the "Mom's spaghetti" line, it works. So, too, does the combative tone that will stay with you. Eminem was not at the Oscars to accept his award in 2003, but he did make a surprise appearance at this year's awards to sing it, delighting everyone (except, it seemed, Martin Scorsese, although his daughter later insisted that her father actually really liked the performance). 6. Don't You (Forget About Me) (The Breakfast Club)
The 1985 teen comedy-drama film written and directed by John Hughes has definitely been re-evaluated in recent years, but the song is just as well-loved today as it was back then. Written by Steve Schiff and Keith Forsey, who produced the film's soundtrack, "Don't You (Forget About Me)"is sung by the Scottish band Simple Minds. Despite some of their early reservations about it (partly because they didn't get it and partly because it wasn't one of their own songs), the song would eventually reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100. It has become practically the theme song of '80s teen films and was predictably used to pay tribute to John Hughes after his death.
5. When You Wish Upon a Star (Pinocchio)
"When You Wish Upon a Star", written by Leigh Harline and Ned Washington, is from the fascinating and frightful 1940 Disney animated film Pinocchio (as everyone knows). The first Disney song to win an Oscar for Best Original Song, it is widely regarded as Disney's best. In some countries, it's even a Christmas song. Cliff Edwards as Jiminy Cricket opens the film with his celestial singing in a way few others have been able to do. There's a reason why this film has come to symbolize what Disney would prefer us to think of when that corporation pops into our head. It's a song about dreams, and that no matter who you are, no aspiration is impossible. 4. Mrs. Robinson (The Graduate)
Easily one of Simon and Garfunkel's most recognizable singalong tunes, "Mrs. Robinson" became the duo's second chart-topper and the first rock song to win Record of the Year at the Grammys. Originally titled "Mrs. Roosevelt", Paul Simon pitched the song to director Mike Nichols (who liked it very much), and the song was changed to "Mrs. Robinson", Ann Bancroft's character in the film. It's a cheerful antithesis to "The Sound of Silence" from two years earlier, which was used to open The Graduate. 3. Nobody Does It Better (The Spy Who Loved Me)
"Nobody Does It Better", written by Marvin Hamlisch and Carole Bayer Sager and sung by Carly Simon, is perhaps the Bond song most unlike what audiences expect from a Bond song, and yet it's undoubtedly the best. The Spy Who Loved Me is the tenth official Bond film, and other than the Paul McCartney rock 'n' roll song for Live and Let Die, no other song had taken such a noticeable departure from the heaviness of the previous tunes (other than Madonna's song for Die Another Day, but that doesn't have to be mentioned). It's been covered numerous times, from Julie Andrews to Radiohead, whose lead singer Thom Yorke declared it "the sexiest song that was ever written." It was also used to pay tribute both to Bond actor Roger Moore and Desmond Llewelyn, who played Q, after they died in 2017 and 1999, respectively. Its orchestra and Simon's smooth vocals make it such an enormously comforting, if vain, song.
2. Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now (Mannequin)
The teen romcom Mannequin has easily been forgotten, but the Jefferson Starship Oscar-nominated power ballad "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" is immortal. Written by Albert Hammond and Diane Warren, you're guaranteed to hear this one at prom or a wedding. (Some couples have even impressively danced to it as their first dance.) With all due respect to "(I've Had) The Time of My Life", "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now"should have taken home the prize in 1988. (Warren has been nominated for eleven Oscars, including as recently as 2020, but has never won.) This song is perfect. 1. Over the Rainbow (The Wizard of Oz)
The lists that the American Film Institute used to do years ago were quite terrible, but one they got right was identifying "Over the Rainbow"as the greatest movie song in American cinema. This song is nostalgia supreme. Composed by Harold Arlen with lyrics by Yip Harburg in a classic scene featuring Dorthy and her dog, Toto (and directed by the uncredited King Vidor), it's a song that will likely spark so many emotions. What really makes it a stunning song is Judy Garland's voice. At just the age of 16, she seemed to become the calm voice of a world heading into a second world war and struggling through the Depression. What makes it all the more remarkable is that she was abused repeatedly during this time, including being slapped by director Victor Fleming when Burt Lahr's antics were making her laugh. Her story is further proof that how Hollywood has treated women is nothing new.
In these trying times, as the world faces another crisis, struggling to contain a massive pandemic and survive another possible economic depression, "Over the Rainbow" is likely a song that can offer at least a bit of an attempt to alleviate many who are anxious about the state of affairs. The song will last far longer than any calamity thrown our way.
Surprisingly or not, dinosaurs were part of children's imaginations long before Jurassic Park. Dino-obsessed kids of the 1980s likely were exposed to neat and inventive productions about fearfully great lizards even before the hit ABC series Dinosaurs. For example, there was the 1985 TV segment Dinosaurs, Dinosaurs, Dinosaurs(in which Gary Owens turned into a prehistoric creature), and the 1987 educational short starring Fred Savage called Dinosaurs: A Fun-Filled Trip Back in Time! (as well as the cool song "Mesozoic Mind" that accompanied it). But even after all that, in 1988, young dinosaur fans were gifted with the animated feature The Land Before Time.
Wondrous, pre-Disney renaissance animation accompanied by James Horner's wonderful score is how The Land Before Time commences, and what a start it is. Horner's score is among his very best, particularly in those opening moments, signifying with that dominant brass and celestial choral arrangement that you're really in for a treat with this film. Executive produced by George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Kathleen Kennedy, and Frank Marshall, The Land Before Time was directed by Don Bluth, the animator behind several well-regarded animated films of the era, including The Secret of NIMH, An American Tail, and All Dogs Go to Heaven.
Pat Hingle as the narrator tells us that our story is "in the time of the dinosaurs." But something is clearly wrong. Everything seems so dark and apocalyptic, and there is little food to eat. Trees are dying, and the leaf-eaters are starving. The sky is all sorts of dismal colors. It's like the dinosaur scene in Fantasia, only slightly less terrifying. There's a new young Apatosaurus named Little Foot (voiced by Gabriel Damon), who joins his grandparents and mother on a journey to the Great Valley in search of a better life and more food. However, there are all sorts of obstacles in their way, starting with a giant "earth shake", as the young ones call it, or clashing of the continents, as our narrator explains. This earthquake causes Little Foot to be separated from his mother.
Also separated from their families are Cera (voiced by Candace Hutson), a Triceratops, and Ducky (voiced by Judith Barsi), a Saurolophus. Little Foot is depressed and Cera is overly stubborn, but the three of them eventually decide to band together and make their way to the Great Valley. Little Foot knows the way, for his mother told him. Fortunately for him, the directions are pretty simple: it's something like they have to keep walking until the great ball of fire in the sky reaches the ground and then they'll eventually find it. Along the way, they find two more members to join their band: Petrie, a Pteranodon who can't fly, and a new-born Stegosaurus named Spike who doesn't talk. Petrie is voiced by Will Ryan, the only adult among them, and whose choices I found distracting compared to the natural voices of the younger actors; to me, his voice acting sounded like a bad Robin Williams impression.
One of their obstacles is each other, as their parents tell them things like "three-horns never play with long-necks." They'll have to overcome their differences. (Incidentally, this was criticized by Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Zizek, who wrote about how one of the songs used in a sequel was the articulation of what he called "liberal multiculturalist ideology", while also noting the irony of having a song celebrating differences in a movie where dinosaurs eat each other, but I digress.) Beyond their squabbles and the swamps and the lack of food and the platonic shifts, though, is a mighty T-Rex (because of course there is), whom they call "Sharp Tooth", constantly chasing them.
Despite apparently against the wishes of most who were involved (as they had nothing to do with the following films), the success of The Land Before Time resulted in a whopping thirteen sequels, as well as a TV series and fourteen spin-off games. I think I only have seen one of them (the 1994 sequel, The Great Valley Adventure, which for some reason we watched in my second-grade class, but that's Catholic schooling for you). The Great Valley Adventure found its way onto Total Film's list of the fifty worst kids movies. It was also this sequel that started incorporating musical numbers into the franchise. None of the cast returned, either, except for Hutson, who provided the voice of Cera for a total of four times, including the fourth film, which is her last acting credit. Unfortunately, tragedy struck the same year The Land Before Time was released when young Judith Barsi was the victim of a double murder-suicide at the hands of her father. The film All Dogs Go to Heaven, in which she provided the voice of Anne-Marie, is dedicated to her.
Regardless of Zizek's critique, The Land Before Time is, for better or worse, remarkably simple, but it works. It is able to successfully pull the emotional strings almost as deftly as its competitor Disney films before and after did. It can be a bit repetitive at times, with Cera acting bratty and Sharp Tooth chasing after them being familiar notes, but I'm a sucker for stories of friendship and survival. Thus, The Land Before Time feels rather apt these days. It's a great watch for parents who might want to introduce part of their childhood to their young children during these uncertain times.
Never Rarely Sometimes Always, the new film written and directed by Eliza Hittman, her third movie, feels sort of like the anti-Juno. I didn't not like Juno, the 2007 comedy with slightly similar story, but it's fair to say Juno might not have been as concerned or grounded in reality as Never Rarely Sometimes Always is. Juno was a pleasant teen romance comedy; there is nothing whimsical in Never Rarely Sometimes Always, a film that can be quite difficult to watch a times.
Sidney Flanigan plays a 17-year-old named Autumn. She's a bit reserved but musically talented, living in rural Pennsylvania. She's in every scene in the film, and in the first, she is playing the guitar and singing a song, presumably at her high school's talent show. She is interrupted by a male teenager you calls her a slut. No one reprimands him or comes to her defense, and the others' silence is deafening, as they say. Autumn is fazed, but she continues her song. Characters who are determined and resilient do not have to be featured only in superhero films.
Things are not going well for Autumn. Her father describes her as "always in a foul mood." Suspecting that she is pregnant, one day Autumn goes to a clinic before school to take a pregnancy test. The test confirms that she is pregnant; ten weeks, she is told. She asks if it's possible if the test could be wrong. "A positive is always positive," the doctor tells her.
She wants an abortion but is shown an anti-abortion video and given a pamphlet. The doctor mentions to her that she could consider giving the baby to a family for adoption. After failing to terminate the pregnancy on her own and receiving no assistance from the clinic, she eventually reveals the truth to her cousin, Skylar (played by Talia Ryder). They gather some money and catch a bus to New York City, a city in which they've never been and where they don't know anyone. It's not as complicated getting to the clinic for the procedure as it could be, but there are numerous complications along the way. Hittman has described the story as following a hero's journey structure.
The most obvious use of this form is what Joseph Campbell called "Road of Trials". Viewers likely will get the impression that Autumn and Skylar have never taken the bus to New York and probably have never even been to New York. They both pack their things into a gigantic suitcase that they have to lug around the fast-moving city, and yet they never have a place to change their clothes. They have plenty of time, though. For different reasons, Autumn's appointment has to keep being delayed. All of these trials are where we seen the finest acting from Flanigan and Ryder, both of whom make their film debut and whose performances are exceptional.
Some might argue that this is a very political film. I don't see it that way. While Never Rarely Sometimes Always revolves around a subject that has been heatedly debated for decades and remains at the forefront of the culture wars, the film is not so concerned with ideology. True, it does take a side, and its hope is that audiences who might be less likely to consider the position women sometimes unexpectedly find themselves in with unplanned pregnancies would be more understanding. However, it would be difficult to argue that this film is not fair and realistic, and it certainly demonstrates Hittman and her cast and crew's talent at procuring empathy from their audience.
Various scenes, one after the other, prove this. Whether it's painful moments in which you will possibly turn your ahead away from the screen or thought-provoking subtleties that are not essential to the plot but that the film doesn't seem to mind if you ponder, Hittman is worthy of much praise. For example, one major point is left very ambiguous. If an answer had been given, it might have shifted audience members' understanding of the point of the film; a weaker filmmaker might not have recognized how important it was to instill the film with this enigma. Hittman and her team handle these delicate subjects about as tactful as filmmakers can. You owe it to yourself to see it.
Dark Waters is a "grown-up movie" at a time when grown-ups can't agree on anything. Like half a dozen films before it, it focuses on the the pursuit of justice against a corporation polluting people. It should sound at least a little familiar because it's practically a remake of the 1998 legal film A Civil Action, while also sharing similar DNA to Erin Brokovich and other films. (There's even a sequence of the main character organizing a never-ending collection of files that looks straight out of All the President's Men.) In Dark Waters, the villainous corporation is DuPont, maker of Teflon. They may be poisoning everyone without their knowledge, but they're "good people", as we're told, being the community's largest employer.
Dark Waters is likely to find, though, that in the twenty-plus gap between this film and A Civil Action, hyper-partisanship has risen so much that many viewers simply won't buy the film's arguments. The political gap between the left and the right has risen by more than twenty points since 1994. This is not inherently a bad thing, but it inevitably will make the film seem less urgent and less relevant.
Mark Ruffalo, deliberately flabbier than his Hulk days, is the real-life environmental lawyer Robert Bilott. He is an attorney for the Ohio-based law firm Taft Stettinius & Hollister, where a prominent portrait of Ohio senator Robert Taft, son of William Howard Taft and one of the firm's most prominent lawyers in its history, hangs in the reception. One day, a meeting is interrupted by a West Virginia farmer named Wilbur Tennant (Bill Camp), who knew Robert's grandmother. Tennant is desperate for help, as his cows appear to have been poisoned; they have black teeth, enlarged organs, and are dying of cancers. Tennant's farm has become a grave yard for almost two hundred dead cows. Those that still live have become violent. Bilott takes some convincing, but he eventually decides to help Tennant by representing him. It is the beginning of a rather timely pursuit, one that will take more than a decade.
Camp is given heavy eye brows and free rein to make some noticeable choices. "Ya blind, boy?" is one line that is really hammed up by the usually much more reserved Camp. Victor Garber plays the DuPont executive dripping with banality of evil until he yells "hick!" at Robert when confronted and sued to make the audience really despise him. Tim Robbins, who plays the senior partner at Taft and Robert's supervisor, does a mostly decent job; his character basically supports Robert's quest to bring justice, but then he delivers an annoying speech featuring wannabe calls-to-action that seems so out of line with the film's reasonably measured approach that maybe Robbins, notoriously liberal, wrote it himself.
But the biggest disappointment in this film's decisions for its cast is to give Anne Hatheway a throw-away role. She plays Sarah, Robert's wife, who gave up her own legal career to take care of their house and raise their three boys. The film may think it's giving Hatheway a lot to do and "agency", but it isn't. Sarah is the same as virtually every wife portrayed in this type of film: supportive, but only until it starts to put a strain on their relationship. Robert starts to become obsessed with his work, barely speaking to the boys, and taking pay cuts. She's there to lecture him about this, but the film doesn't really care about her perspective, for we are meant to sympathize with our persistent, low-key hero. Her character only adds to the personal stakes the male protagonist faces. "How'd it go?" she dutifully asks him, as he places his defeated head on her shoulder and cries. Dark Waters is clearly a "great man" film, focusing almost solely on the work of one environmental lawyer and minimizing every other contributor in the fight. This makes it less appealing than it could have been.
Dark Waters is more or less a smart movie with an accurate condemnation of self-regulation and the evil acts corporations can commit, but there's a lot of liberal-splaining in this film, as expected, and while it is an important message, many audiences will likely turn away in these hyper-partisan times. The challenge for the studio was to present it to conservative members who could buy into the call for action. This is possible; just look at how toxic sludge killing their dogs turned many senior citizens in Florida into eco-warriors. But the movie passes on the challenge, or at least fails it. Some moments will make certain audience members' blood boil, and yet those same moments will make other audiences roll their eyes. One way or the other, you will likely Google PFOA and other forever chemicals and wonder if they're in your water and blood. Whether or not you do much else beyond that might be a measure of how successful this film is.
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