Nomadland (03.26.21)

I was a sophomore in high school when The Great Recession hit, but if my future grandchildren were to ever ask me what it was like to live through such a historic time, the only thing I could respond with would be shrug. Not only was my past ignorance and current lack of exciting anecdotes a product of my age at the time, but it was also a result of the fact that my family and I were very, very lucky to emerge from those turbulent times relatively unscathed. As I have extended further beyond the youthful bubble of privilege, however, I have discovered what you undoubtedly already know: that to a great number of people, those years were devastating. This economic turmoil sets the stage for Nomadland, a new Frances McDormand film about a woman who loses everything and decides to cut the ties that bind her down by learning how to live the life of a nomad. Gorgeous, melancholic, and powerful, Nomadland is a slowly paced, light-on-plot character study that speaks to the restlessness in all of us.  

            The acting is wonderfully and earnestly done, even if we were to somehow set aside for the moment the Oscar, Emmy, and Tony award winning force of nature that is Frances McDormand. All of the nomads save for McDormand’s character Fern and David Strathairn’s character Dave are portrayed by those who actually live the lifestyle presented, and you would definitely be excused if you mistook them for professional actors. I sometimes felt like I was watching a documentary disguised as narrative, which is a testament to the efforts of those behind the film to make the experience feel as authentic as possible.   

            Another contributing factor to this feeling is the plot which, like I said earlier, is actually quite thin. Nomadland is not your usual exposition-rising action-climax type of story, but rather a personal journey filled with self-reflective moments and interactions that build upon a greater whole (all the while accompanied by a lovely yet simple soundtrack). Not everybody will find this meandering type of story appealing or compelling; people come, people go, interactions happen and McDormand’s character moves on before repeating the whole thing again. But isn’t that how life is? Just blew your mind, didn’t I?  

            Something else that struck me is the effortless balance this movie maintains between beauty and hardship. There is not a single malicious character in the entire film, and the nomadic society is one of community and acceptance. But it is also a road full of loneliness and trials, which results in a satisfying mixture of themes. Nomadland trusts the audience come to understand these themes on its own without beating it over the head, which is something I appreciate. Nowhere is this trust more apparent than in McDormand’s performance; Fern is by no means the type of character who would go out of the way to explain to a stranger what she’s feeling, instead allowing her face to do the work.  

            If you are one who can appreciate film as art, Nomadland will be a gratifying experience. Viewers might even discover some insights on the journey of life and how hardship can lead to enlightenment. At the very least it will make you want to go camping, which is cool too.  

            Nomadland is now available on Hulu. 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on March 26th, 2021. I think. Might have been March 19th... I've been on vacation so I don't really know. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

WandaVision (03.12.21)

 

Here’s a not-so-fun fact for you: Thanks to some stupid virus that you’ve most likely heard of by now, 2020 was the first year since 2009 to not have a new Marvel Cinematic Universe property released. At this point it feels like the heat death of the (real life) universe will happen before we get to see the perennially delayed Black Widow, and that’s being generous. With theaters shuttered and the box office on life support, we depend even more on streaming services these days for our entertainment, and wouldn’t you know it, but Disney and Marvel had just the thing lined up to ensure small screen dominance: a plethora of cinematic-quality miniseries that tie into their big-screen juggernauts in ways that previous Marvel shows could only dream of. WandaVision, a nine-episode explosion of style and weirdness featuring the perpetually second-string Avengers Scarlet Witch and Vision, is the first of these miniseries, and it is a homerun.  

            If the words I just wrote mean very little to you, then you’re probably not a fan of the MCU (or baseball, if “homerun” was tripping you up) and probably won’t appreciate the show as much as your nerdy brethren. But even without the sense of duty that many of us have to ingest everything this universe has to offer, the show shines. Creatively shot and brilliantly acted, WandaVision manages to capture the feel of numerous sitcoms (why? I feel like that might be a spoiler…) while simultaneously fitting in quite well with the movies and comics that have come before it. Elizabeth Olsen in particular is quite stunning, seamlessly fitting in with each era of television with an ease that makes you think she has been doing each “show” for hundreds of episodes already. Another clear standout is Kathryn Hahn as Wanda and Vision’s neighbor Agnes, who… well, let’s not get into that right now.    

There is an inherent catch to this authentic flavoring, however; if you are not a fan of certain eras of television and sitcoms in general, some moments might be a bit of a chore to get through. I found the first couple of episodes in particular a bit slow, as the dark mystery that makes up the bulk of the story takes a while to make itself known. But just when I was starting to get bored of 50s and 60s sitcom antics, something creepy and weird would happen, which drew me right back in. And by the time I was on episode three, I was fully invested, purposefully lame sitcom jokes or not. 

Kevin Feige, the mastermind behind the MCU, has insisted that the Disney+ miniseries will not be required watching for future movies and vice versa, and it will be interesting to see how they pull this off. Because WandaVision feels pretty dang important to what will happen next, and it has already been said that it feeds into both Spider-Man: No Way Home and Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t trust Kevin. Assume this show is important to the MCU just in case, and by the time you’re finished watching you’ll at the very least get some good insights into a couple of Avengers who have been playing second fiddle for far too long.  

Excelsior.  

            All nine episodes of WandaVision are now available on Disney+.  

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on March 12th, 2021. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

Outside the Wire (03.05.21)

 

We live in a world that has had flying cars and robots that are indistinguishable from humans for at least two years. This advancement has happened despite the perpetual war that has been fought by our totalitarian superstate for over three decades, not to mention the 400% rise in crime that lead to the 1988 transformation of Manhattan into a giant prison. This is the reality of various futures dreamt up in Blade Runner, 1984, and Escape From New York, anyway. Outside the Wire, a new Netflix movie from a production company you’ve never heard of, posits that in 2036 America will once again have to save the day from those pesky Russians, this time with the help of androids that look like Anthony Mackie. If this never comes to pass it will not be the first promise that this movie has broken, however; with a boring plot, laughable dialogue, and mediocre acting, Outside the Wire initially seems like it will be a fun action film with thoughtful discussions of passion, logic, and what it means to be human, but what it ends up doing instead is wafting into cinematic nothingness.

            The plot as described above is about as interesting as the movie gets. Robo Mackie gets teamed up with a coolly dispassionate drone pilot, and together they are tasked with stopping some Russian guy from getting his hands on some nukes. About two-thirds of the way through there is a plot twist that you will probably see coming a mile away. And that’s… pretty much it. Trite? Absolutely. Fun? Not at all, surprisingly. Movies with thin plots can absolutely work if the vehicle you use to get from point A to point B (the vehicle being dialogue, acting, action, etc.) is entertaining, but the vehicle here is lacking gas. It’s actually pretty impressive how the production team managed to suck all the potential fun out of the premise; the fight scenes (which are, admittedly, pretty cool in a couple of instances) are simply not enough to keep one’s interest as deeper themes such as the role passion plays in war are brought up and either eventually forgotten or handled with the grace of a drunk giraffe on a pogo stick. The dialogue that holds all of it together, on the other hand, often sounds like it was written by a six-year-old with a dictionary of curse words and only a rudimentary knowledge of how to implement said curse words. I never once thought I was listening to real people talk.  

            Another reason for this is the acting. I can easily forgive Anthony Mackie for signing on to a movie just so he can play a robot that punches people, but the man often seems like he’s there against his will. As for the guy who plays the coolly dispassionate drone pilot? Well, let’s just say that he does a poor job of selling the ludicrous script as well. You can play boring and dispassionate without being boring and dispassionate, you know.  

            One thing we can be sure of when it comes to the future? Nobody will remember Outside the Wire.  

            Outside the Wire is now available on Netflix.   

 

 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on March 5th, 2021. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/

The Ripper (02.26.21)

 

 I have always been (somewhat guiltily) interested in the stories and psychology behind serial killers and, if the overstuffed-to-the-point-of-bursting world of true crime entertainment is any indication, I am far from alone in this fascination. I am not, however, what you would call an afficionado by any means; I know the names of the monsters that everyone knows... Dahmer, Bundy, Gacy, Jack. When I saw that Netflix had a new miniseries titled The Ripper I, naturally, thought it was about the last of these. What I found instead was the dark tale of the Yorkshire Ripper, a name I had, for one reason or another, never heard of. I always love learning about new tales of the nefarious and was therefore intrigued by The Ripper and its tightly focused narrative.   

One of the things I appreciated the most about the series was how it jumped right in. There is not much exposition beforehand, and when the backstory of the town and the grisly events that transpired there are eventually explored, it is explored briefly and concisely. The pacing is, in other words, quite good. It is always important to get some background to events such as these, but plenty of other true crime documentaries tend to overdo it a bit to pad out excessively long run times. I did not have this problem with The Ripper, as the societal ills and political climate are essential to the story of the police and their attempt to hunt down Peter Sutcliffe, not to mention the fact that the series is only four episodes long. 

This leads me to another aspect that I appreciated: that the story is primarily concerned with the police, the victims of the Ripper, and (to a lesser extent) the lamentably sexist society that allowed such a man to thrive in the first place. Sutcliffe himself is not given much attention when he is eventually caught, which I also realize might be a big turn-off for people interested in the macabre details of what it takes to make a monster such as he. Some also might find issue with the undeniable feminist overtones that the narrative has, calling the series too political or biased. I did not feel this way about either hypothetical complaint, as the murders are still the primary focus and there is an undeniable gender theme to the story of a man who only killed women and a police force that bungled their response partly because of sexist assumptions (like assuming that all of the Ripper’s early victims were prostitutes simply because they were single and impoverished women). As one of the interviewees says, the goal is to “push him back into the shadows and bring the women out.” It’s not a bad idea, but I also realize that it’s not what some people want to see. 

All that being said, the series is not preachy, nor is it an in-depth societal treatise. This is all just window dressing for a true tale of murder, mayhem, and missed opportunities. The Ripper is a slightly-better-than average documentary that, to me, was slightly elevated beyond that because of the fact that it was conveying information that was new to me. So give it a shot.

The Ripper is now available on Netflix. 

This review was first published in The Keizertimes on February 26th, 2021. Visit at http://keizertimes.com/