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  • Hillbilly Elegy: Another Review

    Hillbilly Elegy: Another Review

    Every award season delivers a myriad of accomplished films (One Night in Miami and Minari are some early standouts), but each breakout success is often matched by confounding misfires (Ammonite). Several films desperately vie for voter’s attention, but their obvious placating only creates a ringing hollowness. Netflix’s latest awards hopeful Hillbilly Elegy sadly trips into that category, with director Ron Howard’s film merely operating as overworked awards-bait.

    Adapted from J.D. Vance’s autobiographical novel, Hillbilly Elegy follows a Yale law student (Gabriel Brasso plays Vance) drawn back to his hometown after his mother lands in the hospital. While there, he grapples with his family history, Appalachian values, and the true meaning of the American dream.

    Vance’s novel was a massive success, a best-selling work that generated its fair share of controversy along the way (journalists question the accuracy of Vance’s depiction of Appalachian life). Even with the mixed reception, it’s easy to comprehend the work’s dramatically enticing values, with Vance’s canvas delving into his personal pains while breaking down the inherent stereotypes facing his community. Weaving nonlinear storytelling and a subplot on the opioid crisis’s impact in low-income areas, Hillbilly Elegy should be the type of film that speaks volumes about the American experience.

    Instead, Howard’s film takes the work’s tangible values and dials them to the max, playing to the back of the auditorium with grandiose emotional beats. This crowd-pleasing approach drains the material of its innate humanity, turning the character’s personal struggles into melodramatic theater. A melody of over-produced score choices and insincere speeches only add to the lingering emptiness. Howard’s mannered filmmaking identity meshes with the material like oil and water, with the usually accomplished director never tuning in to the material’s frequency. Here’s a film that’s desperately calling for raw emotionality, yet Howard only presents us with contrived and poorly-orchestrated plot mechanics.

    Hillbilly Elegy‘s overdone nature leaves its cast out to dry. Glenn Close and Amy Adams rank among the industry’s most acclaimed talents, yet their abilities are rarely on full display. Close’s take on Vance’s protective grandma gets lost amidst the accent and prosthetics, while Adams tirelessly strains for emotional beats that aren’t well-developed on the page. The stacked supporting cast (Hayley Bennett, Frieda Pinto, and Basso) is left standing on the sidelines, watching the theatrics without having much presence of their own onscreen.

    There’s very little about Hillbilly Elegy that feels genuine. Howard and screenwriter Vanessa Taylor depict the character’s gritty lifestyle with a dispassionate gaze, portraying the Appalachian lifestyle with an “aw-shucks” folksiness that simply feels false. Taylor’s inability to mesh the dissonant timelines only makes this matter worse, with the film aimlessly drifting by without developing either arc in the process. All and all, it’s just a mess, one that isn’t particularly endearing considering its contrived origins.

    To see acclaimed talents coming together for a vapid piece of awards bait is a letdown, and I hope Hillbilly Elegy‘s falterings will only promote filmmakers to explore avenues outside the traditionalist norms.

  • The Night Porter: Review

    The Night Porter: Review

    The Night Porter: Review. By Alif Majeed.

    I have heard The Night Porter described as a cross between Death in Venice and The Boys from Brazil before watching it. That description never made sense for me as the latter came out a few years after it. I get what it means though, with the former and its similar themes of obsession and being besotted at one’s peril when even when having the choice of walking away. Add The Boys from Brazil with its themes of Gestapo agents in hiding and conspiracies relating to that. 

    The movie, set about a decade after World War II, has Dirk Bogarde as Max working as a night porter at a hotel in Vienna, where he seems resigned to his ordinary existence. A chance reunion with Lucia, a woman from his past, played by Charlotte Rampling stirs up memories and echoes of the past with him being a former SS officer and her, a prisoner and survivor at the concentration camp. The moment they set eyes on each other again after all those years, their humdrum existence takes a turn that cannot be reversed. Slowly, through flashbacks, we get to see glimpses of their shared past where he was both her protector and tormentor at various points at the Holocaust camp.

    The Night Porter had some extreme initial reactions from the critics at the time of its release. But it owes its reputation as a cult classic to the sordid reputation that precedes the movie itself. It is also shoehorned as a Nazisploitation movie, which is quite a stretch.

    For starters, it is significantly better than most movies in the genre, including the Ilsa trilogy, the Nazploitation genre’s “crowning glory”, and should not be an apples and oranges comparison to those movies. 

    Another reason it shouldn’t to be clubbed together is that those movies wear their exploitation legacy on their collective sleeves and even revel in its status as grind house flicks. I’m pretty sure Liliana Cavani, the director of the Night Porter, did not intend for that to happen.

    The two leads, Dirk Bogarde and Charlotte Rampling, were also in an unfortunate position of enduring most of the terrible reviews, which were not for their performances but for taking part in the movie. But it was mighty brave of both the actors to take up the movie. Their performances are too effective, and the two sell the characters need to continue their torture and pleasure games rather than live out their new normal life.

    Its depiction of the Stockholm syndrome when Lucia feels compassion for Max, her past tormentor cum savior also makes sense in the movie’s context, which includes the things he had done for her. A shocking scene in one flashback that emulate the biblical tale of Salome is something that sticks and shakes you up when you think of it. The level of passion and devotion that was formed between them is pretty tough to shack off, especially when you believe in their performances that make it hard to take your eyes off them.

    Even when Max’s fellow Gestapo officers believe Lucia is a threat that needs to be eliminated, their bond is formidable because of whatever came before on screen. 

    But the fascination of trying to figure out how their relationship plays out soon gives way to mild irritation as the movie progresses. The pace slacks off as soon as they get together and after the SS officers cut off their supplies to tire them out. Towards the end, I was as tired as the characters were. 

    What also really takes the movie down a notch is the flashback scenes set at the concentration camps which borders on the comical. The theatrically on display with the concentration camp scenes makes those portions unintentionally funny and uneven.

    The Night Porter may put you off for the depiction of the roles of the survivors and the perpetrators during the Third Reich, but it is a must-watch for the lovely performances by Rampling and Bogarde. Whatever works on screen is because of the dedication the leads show towards the characters and themselves.

    The Night Porter 4k restoration is available on Blu-ray now

  • Buddy Games: Review

    Buddy Games: Review

    Male debauchery is a common fixture of raunchy comedies, often serving as the driving force behind success stories like the Jackass and The Hangover franchises. While throwing outrageous gags at the screen may appear effortless when they work, it’s the comedic misfires that remind us how hard it is to construct an assured buddy comedy. That’s where Josh Duhamel’s writing/directorial debut Buddy Games comes in, serving as a well-intended, yet ultimately mean-spirited exercise in crass pratfalls.

    The Buddy Games follows a group of friends (Duhamel, Dax Shepard, Nick Swardson, James Roday Rodriguez, Kevin Dillon, and Dan Bakkedahl) who reunite yearly to play in the Buddy Games. This assortment of oddball challenges puts their skills and friendship to the test, especially when a $150,000 cash prize is up for grabs with this year’s games.

    Delving into male friendships under the guise of crass barbs and hard-hitting pranks is a common trope, yet rarely has this approach rendered such an inauthentic experience. I appreciate the earnest beginnings of Duhamel’s film (it’s loosely based upon a ritual he and his friends participate in), but in an effort to play to the audience’s sensibility, he drains the material of its innate appeal. This celebratory gathering of male comradery morphs into an endless array of mindless gags, negating any authentic connection between our stereotypical leads. The characters only connect when they’re hitting each other in the nuts or delivering ham-fisted speeches, as Duhamel never marries his pratfalls with the sincerity they so desperately seek.

    Comedically, Buddy Games is an instance where the actors probably had more fun making the film than audiences will have watching it. For a film that tirelessly tries to shock its audience, Duhamel and company mostly rely upon tired pratfalls. If you want to see people getting teabaged and drinking semen, I guess this is for you. Otherwise, I think most will agree the comedic sensibility here is more grotesque than it is creative. Some of the actors register some light-hearted fun (Nick Swardson has a blast degrading himself with each ridiculous gag), but most of the cast is relegated to one-joke roles that rarely breathe onscreen.

    Under the endless array of bits, Buddy Games registers with an oft-putting mean-streak that the material can never quite shakes. I understand that the characters’ abhorrent behavior is supposed to reflect their affectionate feelings towards each other, but Duhamel pushes their pranks to a strenuous degree. Whether the characters are relentlessly mocking their peer’s life-changing injury or worthwhile aspirations, these “boys” read with a macho-man streak that is rarely endearing. I love the hangout comedies that Buddy Games aspires to emulate, but the film rarely taps into that finite frequency.

    While watching Buddy Games, I thought of the tweaks that could’ve imbued the material with more heart and authenticity. In other words, I was dreaming of a film that Buddy Games rarely is, with the promising concept only being utilized as a canvas for crass, over-the-top gags. I am curious to see what Duhamel does next as a director, as he may find that his comfort zone rests outside of the comedic sphere.

  • Inverno (Timo’s Winter): Review

    Inverno (Timo’s Winter): Review

    Inverno (Timo’s Winter): Review. By Trent Neely.

    This short film directed and co-written by Giulio Mastromauro tells the story of a family of Funfair workers: Timo, his father, his mother, grandfather, and grandmother during the winter as they work to prepare to open the fair and cope with the mother’s severe illness.

    The film primarily focuses on young Timo as he is thrust into maturity and responsibility as he helps his family prepare the fair for opening, and though he may not know exactly what is going on with his mother, it is clear that he understands that it is something serious.

    The most striking element of this film is how much it allows itself to breathe given its sixteen minute runtime. Mastromauro and co-writer Andrea Brusa choose not to have the characters express their strife through protracted conversations or monologues. When characters speak in the film, it is rare, short and to the point, and almost never directly references the harshness of the realities that they are facing. Instead, the film mainly rests on the power of images and physical performance. Director of Photography Sandro Chessa uses a variety of framing techniques to show the audience this family’s story. Sometimes the camera is a distant observer, other times, almost uncomfortably close as we see the toll this moment in life is taking on these characters.

    All the while painting the film in an arresting, predominantly cold and desaturated palette. These long quiet visual moments are coupled with a minimalist yet beautifully melancholy score by Bruno Falanga, whose piano and strings softly help convey the emotions that the characters themselves rarely express outwardly. The small cast and sparse settings also serve to help show how much this family is carrying on its shoulders.

    While the cast is small, their impact is fully felt. Particularly Christian Petaroscia as the young Timo, who fully captures the essence of a child thrust into the hardest parts of adulthood and someone who mourns the loss of childhood innocence that comes as a consequence.

    The rest of the cast are also stellar, demonstrating the power of facial expressions and body language combined with framing in order to express complex emotions like fatigue, anger and sadness.

    If you would like to see a film that demonstrates the power of visual storytelling and how efficient a story can be while still retaining its full emotional weight, please seek out this short, affecting piece of work. 

  • Jiu Jitsu: The BRWC Review

    Jiu Jitsu: The BRWC Review

    Nic Cage, aliens, and jiu-jitsu. It’s a holy trinity of genre campiness that seems almost too good to be true. Thankfully, that’s what director Dimitri Logothetis delivers with his latest effort Jiu Jitsu. Logothetis’ film boasts a plethora of shamelessly over-the-top genre setpieces, more than enough to counter the film’s myriad of technical issues.

    Jiu Jitsu follows Jake (Alain Moussi), a jiu-jitsu warrior who’s suffering from amnesia. This couldn’t come at a worse time, as every six years, an ancient order of jiu-jitsu fighters joins forces to battle a vicious race of alien invaders. When a celebrated war hero goes down in defeat, the fate of the planet and mankind hangs in the balance of Jake and his elite tribe.

    Combining the cat-and-mouse thrills of Predator with a bombastic, midnight movie-sensibility, Logothetis’ direction operates with an infectious reckless abandon. His film takes the kitchen sink of B-movie staples and infuses them into one gleefully silly popcorn movie. This approach works due to Logothetis’ ability to marry a self-aware tonality with a straight-faced delivery, allowing the cheeky elements to operate without being too obvious. It’s also a joy to see Nic Cage, Frank Grillo, and Tony Ja leaning into the dopey genre-sensibility, with Cage being a joy as an unhinged jiu-jitsu master.

    What often goes unappreciated with films of this ilk is the craftsmanship behind them, with Logothetis matching the material’s gonzo style with some creative techniques. Whether it’s implausible POV action scenes (the camera follows the perspective of a character until it’s set down to then watch that character fight) or a heaping of low-rent special effects (comic book pannel transitions are used throughout), Logothetis consistently finds new wrinkles to throw at his audience. While shrouded in imperfections, these sequences display a sincere effort from all involved, as they push their budgetary restrictions to their creative limit.

    I had a blast throughout Jiu Jitsu, but the film can’t quite reach cult-level status. While the supporting cast leans into their campy roles (Eddie Steeples has fun as a timid soldier), star Alain Moussi struggles mightily. His stiff presence makes the archetype role feel like a mere-cliche, with his straight-man role being the least interesting aspect of the busy narrative. I also felt the film’s first half lag in comparison to the chaos that follows it, with some of the script’s exposition dumps failing to engage the audience.

    Jiu Jitsu will likely be dismissed at first glance, but those who can tune into its dopy wavelength will have a blast with this low-brow genre adventure.