Gabriel Chytry as Russell Wynn Elizabeth Vermilyea as Vanessa Sam Kazzi as Jeff Stone Scott Richey as Harvey Jordan Kaplan as Max Bridgid Abrams as Jane Leo DeFriend as Gregory Brian David Tracy as Andrew Tully
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
85 minutes
If you’ve read my review of Hell House LLC II: The Abaddon Hotel, you already know that I’m a big fan of Cognetti’s conclusion to the Hell House franchise. It’s not perfect. It doesn’t right the wrongs of the second movie nor does it replicate the magic of the first movie. What it does do is present an interesting connective tissue between the two while never forgetting that it’s supposed to be entertaining in its own rite. There are some ideas that feel like they would’ve been better served being the focal point(s) of the second movie, but the developed ideas that the story goes with give the series a more elegant and meaningful feeling.
The story picks up a year after the end of Hell House II, with the Abaddon Hotel set to be destroyed after the disappearance of the crew from the last movie. Just before demolition, the property ends up getting purchased by billionaire Russell Wynn who intends on using the hotel to stage his famous play, Insomnia, a retelling of the tale of Faust. We’re told at the beginning of the movie that the “documentary’s” purpose is to conclusively prove what happened on the night of Wynn’s grand re-opening of the hotel. In this way, the movie’s set-up is fairly similar to the first Hell Housein that it’s chronicling some event after the fact, but it’s different in that the audience isn’t told what the event is or whether it was good or bad. What adds to the mystery is the fact this Russell is the same Russell who made the second movie, as in he’s the person who made the second “documentary” in-universe. Given the way that ends, with Tully talking about how the tapes made then would be sent to someone else who would continue the chain of getting people into the premises , it’s even more intriguing thinking about why Russell would buy such a property. Is he in on Tully’s plan to bring more souls into the lake of fire? Was he shown doctored footage to come to a different conclusion? What is his end goal?
This layered approach to the mystery rewards attentive fans of the franchise and utilizes the self-referential nature of the movies to its fullest. Taken along with the story of Faust and suddenly you have some interesting sub-text to go along with the mystery and meta-questions. Once the ball starts rolling and things start getting revealed you’ll be shocked at where all the threads end up converging. That being said, the way that clues are scattered and set up does make me sad that some of this work wasn’t done in the second movie. The way everything concludes is satisfying but there are aspects that feel like they could’ve been better set up to make some of the thematic questions/ideas more salient.
To go along with the documentary approach the movie, like the previous two installments, cuts together footage from multiple different sources including: interviews with older members from the franchise, clips of supernatural events from the first and second movie, unseen clips of interactions not previously seen, and the “main” connective news footage from the initial documentary footage shot by Vanessa, a reporter who was sent to document Insomnia before its grand opening at the Abaddon. Most of the footage is taken from this last source and is comprised both of Vanessa’s personal interview footage and self-recorded footage off of personal camcorders given to Insomnia staff members.
Now because the movie’s purpose is to explain what happened on the opening night of Insomnia it treats the audience like they haven’t seen either of the previous movies. That means if you were tired of seeing cuts to the same random events, get ready to relive some events again. This can feel grating but it makes sense given the context by which its being shown in-universe. For example, a character from the main timeline will mention a disappearance and the movie will cut to said disappearance from a previous movie to prove said event happened and to give it context. Unfortunately, cuts to previously seen footage/events also happens when they doesn’t need to. For example, Max, an actor in Insomnia, talks about how he’s watched the previous release of the in-universe Hell House and knows where all the exits in the Abaddon are and the documentary then cuts to a cut of all the exits not working from the first movie. Is the point that Max is stupid because if he saw the first movie he’d know that knowing where the exits are doesn’t help? Or is this supposed to be evidence that the first movie was actually doctored and the truth of the exits not working was covered up? But that doesn’t make sense given that the first movie is presented as a “true” documentary meant for mass consumption. Confusion aside, these moments happen a bit too often for my liking and bog the pacing of the movie down. Not all of them make me think this hard/introduce unnecessary questions, but all of them do feel like they’re their to pad out the runtime.
One of my biggest gripes with the previous two movies has been the use of this awful glitching effect when something supernatural comes onto the screen. Unfortunately, this movie not only continues the trend but uses a similarly frustrating glitch like effect to transition between clips from different sources. The effect in transition is less jarring than the supernatural effect but it’s definitely something to take notice of if you’ve been annoyed by the effects use in the past installments. There’s also some questionable CGI in the third act, but it’s used so sparingly and with such a specific purpose that I can’t fault the movie too much for it.
Thankfully, bad camera effects aren’t the only thing this entry inherits from its predecessors. Like the cast from the first movie, all the principal characters here feel grounded and real . Vermilyea is great as Vanessa and makes her characters decisions feel logical and grounded. There’s some maneuvering and posturing she has to do in latter portions of the movie and her facial reactions to these moments always feel spot on. I love Richey’s performance as Harvey, Russell’s assistant of sorts with an eccentric personality to boot. He adds a fun festive energy to the otherwise serious feeling piece and never comes off feeling forced. All the actors for Insomnia, feel like like a genuine cast of friends who have done a play over and over and are just doing it again in a creepier place. No character’s decision feels especially out of place and they all have distinct enough personalities so you can tell them apart. The only real issue I have character wise is an awful rendered scar on Russell’s face. No amount of acting from Chytry could save that damage. That being said, his performance is a highlight and the mystery of the movie only works because of how well he plays the nuances of his role.
All in all, this is a fitting end to the trilogy that neatly bookmarks all the loose threads into one resounding conclusion. Some ideas feel a bit under-cooked and underdeveloped – one of them being a pivotal part of the climax’s reveal, but I respect and appreciate the ingenuity of what was being attempted. Just because it doesn’t fully succeed doesn’t mean it fails and if anything I think Cognetti has proven that found footage can and should be taken seriously as a way of telling meaningful horror stories. There’s so much more that can be done with the mechanisms of the sub-genre and I appreciate this trilogy, this movie in particular, for opening my eyes up to them.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
If you’ve seen the previous two Hell House movies you owe it to watch this one. I’m of the opinion that if you’ve seen the first you should just grit your teeth through the second to watch this one. The movie doesn’t hit all the marks it wants to (someone please ban the glitch effect) but it’s innovative use of previous entries and the found footage style is something that fans of the sub-genre need to check out. It’s not a masterpiece, but for a found footage movie Hell House LLC III:Lake of Fire packs a lot more of a punch than expected.
Rating
8.0/10
Grade
B
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Haley Bennett as Hunter Conrad Austin Stowell as Richie Conrad Elizabeth Marvel as Katherine Conrad David Rasche as Michael Conrad Laith Nakli as Luay
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
94 minutes
Rotten Tomatoes describes this movie as an “unconventional approach to exploring domestic ennui” in its Critics Consensus section. After having seen the movie twice, I can say this summation is anything but accurate. A movie about domestic ennui would explore the way a subject feels a sense of purposelessness in relation to their household/household duties. Swallow is so much more that and plays out more like a character study of newlywed wife, Hunter, succumbing to the pressures of performing to her new husband,Richie, and his family’s expectations developing pica, a condition characterized by eating inedible objects, as a result. It’s not that shes bored with her “duties” and is listlessly wandering around trying to find something to do so she dabbles with eating inedible objects for fun. It’s more so that the pressures and expectations she’s put under compounded with with pre-existing underlying issues leads to her eating as a psychological response to the alienation and trauma she’s processing.
As someone who loves horror, I rarely find myself scared to the point of wanting to look away while watching . This movie is an exception and makes Hunter’s acts of swallowing inedible objects absolutely painful to watch. It’s not just that the objects themselves are threatening and dangerous looking, which they are; it’s that the sequences play and build upon circumstances that could really happen. Pica is a real condition that’s been documented. As someone who’s loved eating ice since I was a kid, the idea of being inexplicably drawn to eat something dangerous is a genuine fear of mine. Likewise, an awful family/in-law situation stressing out a new wife is something that a lot of people can relate to. Grounded rules and situations like these are why the movie works. The circumstances that make up the “scare” sequences are grounded in reality and relatable enough so the uncomfortable moments feel like they could happen to someone we know, if not us outright.
Every action that Hunter takes, has an emotional undercurrent that drips off the screen and makes you invested in her journey and what happens to her. This is all because of Haley Bennet’s performance, without which movie would fail to work. She starts off so eager to please, trying to fill in the roles that her passive aggressive husband and in-laws expect her to. There’s a genuine earnestness in how she tries to curry favor. Likewise, her dejection and respective attempts to regain adoration are painful to watch because the conclusion feels almost foregone. When she eats her first object, there’s a mystery in her eyes as she decides to ultimately take the plunge. Then when she accomplishes her task the delight and genuine happiness she feels radiates (accompanied by some upbeat snazzy tunes). It gives these moments a perverse feeling. You know they’re wrong. They’re painful. But for her, they almost feel like escapes from the emotional and psychological hellscape she finds herself in. Such eccentric behavior could come off as just creepy, but instead comes off as kind of endearing. As the stakes ramp up so does her emotional range and it’s quite a trip to see where she ends up by the end of the movie.
The movie is also gorgeous to look at. There are certain scenes that are draped with a rich red and a deep blue akin to something out of Suspiria (a movie I genuinely love). It gives the movie a phantasmic feeling as the colors drape over Hunter during long takes that linger on her expression. I love the use of close up shots of objects and Hunter’s reactions to them generate an incredible amount of unease and tension despite it being obvious as to what she’s going to do. I also genuinely appreciate the way the characters are blocked off in group encounters. The way the Conrad family is positioned to Haley often highlights the discrepancy in their power and reinforces the underlying nature of what the “family’s” relationship really is.
Unfortunately, while the movie’s ambitions are lofty, the execution in the latter half of the movie leaves a lot to be desired. There are sprinkles of greatness, but they feel rushed and haphazard. There’s a pivot in the third act that feels like it could have hit the mark if it was set up and developed better, but unfortunately feels unearned. It’s not that I think everything needed to be explained. It’s more that I think the plot elements that the third act tries to build on aren’t present enough to justify the importance they’re given. This is a shame because the ideas driving the ending make a lot of sense from a thematic perspective. Isolated, I like them a lot. Unfortunately, in the context of the narrative they feel like bits tacked on to the end as opposed to natural extensions of the story.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Swallow is a wonderfully unique horror that focuses on real grounded scares as opposed to tired tried cliches. Somehow the story of a newlywed with a snooty wealthy husband and in-laws developing an odd eating condition wherein she eats dangerous inedible objects is incredibly relatable and touching. I found myself earnestly invested and horrified as a result. (I averted my eyes more than once on my first watch through.) Sure there are some rough patches namely, a third act that I think was rushed compared to the rest of the story, but the movie is genuinely unique. Thought it doesn’t always hit its marks, its unique blend of body and psychological horror is one that I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
Rating
8.8/10
Grade
B+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Iván Massagué as Goreng Zorion Eguileor as Trimagasi Antonia San Juan as Imoguiri Emilio Buale Coka as Baharat Alexandra Masangkay as Miharu
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
Spanish
Running Time
94 minutes
My usual experience with horror titles on Netflix has always been the following:
If I scroll and find the movie myself the movie is anywhere from decent to excellent (ex: Gerald’s Game).
If I hear about the movie through the grapevine and check it out it’s usually a huge disappointment (ex: Bird Box,)
Given that, I was fairly certain that The Platform would be another over-hyped but underwhelming addition to the online horror streaming collection. You can only imagine my surprise then when I immediately wanted and proceeded to replay the movie after it had ended. Gaztelu-Urrutia’s science fiction thriller is one of the most layered, intimate, and entertaining depictions of the dark underbelly of capitalism I’ve had the pleasure of seeing. It’s a movie that not only deserves the praise it’s getting but honestly feels like it’s getting undersold.
The story takes place in a large tower comprised of multiple vertically stacked floors, each floor housing two residents. Each floor is identical in makeup and has a rectangular shaped hole in the center of it. A platform stacked with food starts at the top floor of the tower and travels through the holes all the way down. People are free to eat how much ever and whatever they want from the platform during the time it lingers on their floor but have no food for the rest of the day once it goes to the next floor. Every month people are reassigned to new rooms with no guarantees of where they’ll end up.
The environment serves as the perfect playground to explore class conflict. People on the upper floors have no personal incentive to partition food for those below outside of potential empathy if they had experienced hunger on a lower floor during a previous cycle. The question the movie wants to answer is whether or not it’s possible to create an escape out of such a system or find a way to survive in it. Can individual action galvanize change in a system where there’s no guarantee of the security of one’s future? That’s a pertinent question that policymakers are struggling to answer right now during the Corona epidemic as some people hoard supplies for themselves while others donate to the less fortunate. The separation between floors helps elucidate the dissonance people experience as a result of possessing relatively more power than their peers. People hate those above for disrespecting them and in the case of the movie not giving them food, but they simultaneously choose not to extend the concern they wish they received to those below. It’d be funny if it didn’t ring so true with reality.
Obviously such discussions require nuance and ambiguity. That’s where this movie shines. The majority of the narrative is dialogue between Goreng, a man who voluntarily entered the tower, and the various peoples he meets on different levels. Every participant he runs into is a stand-in for a different sect of society and their relation to resource distribution. It can feel a bit too on the nose with characters insulting others with jeers like “communist” or racial slurs. However, most of these details are meant to distract both Goreng and us, the audience, from the structural information asymmetry at play. With no resources or methods to vet others information, every interaction becomes suspect. Is what’s being said true or is it only being said to curry favor? Maybe the correspondent thinks what they’re saying is true when it’s not because they heard it from somewhere else. The movie constantly reveals pertinent information only to contradict it a few scenes later. It forces you to ask who’s really doing what and for why. You really appreciate how layered the (mis)direction and (mis)information go because they reveal the way knowledge is conditioned by power and used to reinforce different schemas of social control, both good and bad. It’s all about ideology.
Thankfully, in spite of being dialogue heavy and primarily taking place in one setting, the movie never feels boring. This is due in part to some great editing choices and performances. Whenever a moment feels like it’s just about to get too long the movie cuts to a nightmare sequence, psychological hallucinations, or an outside perspective of the events leading to Goreng’s experiences in the tower. Each cut feels like it comes at the right time and always adds to the subtext in a way that doesn’t outwardly reveal as much as the dialogue heavy scenes. It’s markedly subtle. Lighting and color are also used to great effect both as plot devices and as a mood amplifiers. The palette is usually a gray-blue but gets enveloped in a red lighting, similar to what you’d see in a dark room, during more important moments. It’s a visual jolt that lets you know something’s going to go down. Furthermore, the movie is just as violent as it is cerebral and horror fans looking for some gory visceral scares will definitely have a good time with some of the more brutal moments. As you would imagine people on the brink of starvation are more than willing to do what they need to ensure they have something to eat and the movie plays with that tension to create some genuinely stressful white-knuckle situations.
Now as much as I love this movie for what it does, I think it does feel a bit too convenient at times. There are some characters that feel tailor fit for the situation as opposed to feeling like real people who just happened to have the skills to solve the situation at hand. I didn’t think it was a huge issue, but it does make some sequences feel more allegorical than grounded. The movie also revels in mystery and shows a lot of interesting scenes and moments that have to do with but are not within the tower but never expands on them enough. It’s not that the inclusions are ineffective. It’s more like they’re missed opportunities that could have made the movies themes pop out more. Finally, the ending is polarizing. It’s intentionally ambiguous and is open to interpretation. I personally love it and think it’s the only way the movie could have ended. However I also know people who thought the ending was a let-down that didn’t make use of all the momentum leading up to it.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
The Platform is like if Cube got a modern face-lift and dealt directly with the horrors of neoliberal capitalism. The story is nuanced, brutal, and more pertinent now than ever. If you’re looking for clear answers you might find yourself frustrated. This is a cerebral horror that delivers on its themes and its scares in equal part.
Rating
9.2/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .
Riley Keough as Grace Jaeden Martell as Aidan Lia McHugh as Mia Richard Armitage as Richard
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
108 minutes
The moment I saw the trailer for this movie and realized that Franz and Fiala were attached to the project , I waited with baited breath till the movie came to my area (which thankfully it did). Though it doesn’t reach the same heights as the duo’s debut feature, Goodnight Mommy, it’s still a standout in a sea of boring and uninspired horrors. The Lodge may fumble with the logic of some its grander narrative decisions, but it more than makes up for that with the dark,twisted offerings it has in store.
The movie follows a family on retreat to a winter cabin. When work events come up, the father, Richard, is forced to leave his children alone with his new girlfriend, Grace. There’s an immediate tension between the two parties as Grace tries to be amicable with her partner’s children who seem to want nothing to do with her. After a blizzard strands the party in the cabin, things start going bump in the night and Grace is forced to deal with the unpredictable and tumultuous state of affairs. Based on the first 10 minutes of the movie, which are absolutely shocking, I knew I was in for a brutal experience.
Unlike their first movie, this one revels in teasing the audience with what’s really going on. There’s deception and layers to deception that’ll have you constantly questioning what’s happening. I came in with some initial ideas and then was hit with switch-ups that I genuinely did not see coming. It culminates in some of the most twisted stuff I’ve seen on the big screen in a long time. This is not the movie you want to see if you’re trying to have a good time or forget about the worries of your day. The story is dark and explores the deepest, most intimate parts of the human condition. It focuses on grief, depression, and heaping doses of internalized resentment and how those elements disrupt and warp our ability to properly evaluate the proper course of action. That being said, the way certain twists are executed border on neigh unbelievable given the information the audience is presented. In their attempt to create twists that are impossible to predict, Franz and Fiala are forced to really stretch logic in ways that’ll have sticklers for rules in movies feeling frustrated. This is a story driven movie with interesting characters that’s more focused on getting to the shocking thematic and viscerally unpleasant scenes than developing the underlying logic as to why those things are happening in the first place.
While the characters aren’t as developed as I would have liked, the performances of the actors playing them are refined and accentuate the tension and uncomfortable nature of the situation. Both Martell and McHugh manage to show their disdain for their dad’s new lover in their own unique and petty ways, from the silent treatment to the mean side-eye. Their obvious care and affection for one another leaps off the screen and it’s completely believable that they’re siblings struggling to find their footing in the world. Likewise, Keough manages to portray the range of emotions any desperate person would do trying to impress their partner’s kids going from enthusiastic to laid back to assertive. At the same time, she shows the cracks in her psyche as the blizzard and her isolation continue. Given the nature of the twists ,the twists within twists, and so on, it’s even more impressive just how well everyone managed to keep the nature of the mystery under wraps until just the right moment.
Unfortunately, despite being stylish and packed with scenes I won’t be able to get out of my head for the foreseeable future, one of the movie’s bigger reveals feels like it comes out of left field. I don’t want to spoil anything because the movie should be seen with absolutely no knowledge of any of the mystery, but I think the way everything pans out feels undeserved at some level. If the movie spent another 10-15 minutes developing character backgrounds, tightening up the references to Christianity, and making better use of a dollhouse set that’s used to transition between scenes it would’ve been up there with some of very best. The elements are all there. It’s just that they’re not meshing all the way through.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
The Lodge is as dark as it is twisted in its depiction of how grief and hatred warp our perception of the world. The story of a new girlfriend trying to get her partner’s kids to open up to her goes places you won’t be able to un-see and will manage to chill you even if the setup feels over-the-top at times.
Rating
9.0/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Noémie Merlant as Marianne Adèle Haenel as Heloise Luàna Bajrami as Sophie
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
French
Running Time
120 minutes
Marianne, a young painter, is hired to paint the portrait of Heloise, a member of the French aristocracy for the latter’s future husband to be. The catch? She has to do it in secret without Heloise finding out because the not-so-blushing bride to be has no desire to get married. As a result she’s hired on as a companion and is forced to steal glances at her subject and commit them to memory in an effort to paint them later. What follows is a forbidden romance as the our two leading ladies guide us through a discussion of art, the relationship of the painter vs the subject, love, desire, and the functions of our gaze. It’s one of the most touching love stories I’ve had the pleasure of watching and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I saw it last night.
The movie is slow and deliberately paced to give every moment importance. Dialogue is slow and deliberate. Often times our leading ladies talks slowly and meticulously, accentuating the importance of the few lines of spoken dialogue that happen throughout the film. Most times conversation takes place through the series of gazes. Early on Marianne has to take note of Heloise’s features without coming off as too obvious. Meanwhile, the Heloise steals glances of the the painter-in-disguise when she’s looking away. As the relationship progresses so does the nature of the gaze. It’s genuinely amazing just how much of the story can be felt and told in this way. Both Merlant and Haenel knock it out of the park in how well they manage to convey their thoughts and emotions in their eyes. You can tell exactly what wavelength they’re on emotionally, independently, and as a couple growing more deeply in love. The desire inherent in what they’re looking at tells the real story of what’s happening between the two. Their chemistry radiates off the screen and the build-up to more crucial moments is well worth the long wait time.
On top of being rich from a narrative standpoint, the movie is packed to the brim with interesting themes. At one level the movie is about the relationship between the painter and their subject. Usually when we think of art, we think of the artist rendering the subject into a piece of art. The subject is stripped of agency and becomes an object to be transformed. However, as the painter glances at the subject, the subject glances back at the painter and a similar kind of understanding is created. At another level the movie is a profound critique of the way women are forced into social positions where their desire is redirected against their will and offers methods of overcoming those situations in realistic ways. The way that these ideas mix together in relation to each other and to the nature of a forbidden romance is touching and has given more than enough to think about. The brilliance of the movie is how each of these moments is seamlessly layered into the larger tapestry of the movie in a way that flows with the story.
Finally, as if you needed another reason, this is one of the prettiest movies I’ve ever seen. Every shot is bursting with color and the color palette on display is vibrant and highly distinct. The movie’s never boring to look at and as the island the characters are on is traversed more, the changes in scenery keep every moment feeling fresh. Every single detail is visible up to the strands of saliva that remain post kiss. If that isn’t high fidelity I don’t know what is. The way that certain shots are blocked and positioned are both visceral and thematic. My jaw dropped more than one time at the sheer artistry of certain frames. Music is used sparsely so you’re completely immersed into the scene and what the character’s are doing. When it does come into play, and believe me it does, it only exists as a kind of bow on top of a perfect present. It somehow seals the whole movie together into a pristine package.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
A Portrait of a Lady on Fire’s ingenious premise of a painter forced to paint a subject without letting them know is explored to its fullest in this queer, French, period piece that’s packed to the brim with some of 2019’s best cinematography. The way the movie tackles desire, the gaze, love, women’s social positions, art, and the relation of painters and their subjects somehow gives each topic justice while melding them together into a one of a kind experience that you shouldn’t miss. Please do yourself the service of watching this.
Rating
10/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report.
Saoirse Ronan as Jo March Florence Pugh as Amy March Emma Watson as Meg March Eliza Scanlen as Beth March Laura Dern as Marmee March Timothee Chalamet as Laurie
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
135 minutes
That settles that. I’m watching Ladybird as soon as I can. After having experienced the feel-good delight that is Little Women, I’m more than excited to watch more Gerwig and am super excited for whatever she does next. I came into this movie as someone who has not read the original book or seen any other adaptation (I want to read the book now and then watch the movie again to see how it fared as an adaptation) . I only decided to see it because it was nominated for best picture and I’m glad I did.
The story is a coming-of-age story that follows the women of the March family, four daughters and their mother, Marmee, who are forced to maintain the household as their father is out fighting in the Civil War. Every single daughter is driven and has their own set of passions. Meg, the eldest, has acting aspirations. Jo, the second oldest, wants to be a author and writes stories to get money. Amy, next in line, is more spoiled and wants to be an artist. Beth, the youngest, loves music and wants to be happy with her family. The movie cuts between this past and the present (set a few years later) seamlessly, juxtaposing each of the girls idealistic younger selves with their more worn and mature selves. It creates an expectation because you know what’s going to come, but also a sense of mystery because you want to see how we go from point A to B.
This sense of mystery keeps the movie fresh from a storytelling perspective and happens seamlessly in the background, without you realizing it. I knew that we were going back and forth, but I was never focused on it. My brain just automatically accepted it. Editing and scene placement is on point and it creates a piece that seems to reveal information at precisely the right time. There are meta-narrative moments that are placed perfectly in the third act and allow for a lot of interesting interpretative leeway (I’m assuming on purpose) that I can’t help but admire, especially after reading about the movie and the stories original writer, Louisa May Alcott. Every thread comes together at precisely the right time and it makes the whole experience an emotionally satisfying roller-coaster. I would go from feeling sad, to feeling hopeful , to laughing, to tearing up, to feeling inspired, to some combination of any of these, and all the feelings in between and I never once felt any kind of tonal whiplash. The only issue I felt was ,because there’s no clear passage of time, certain character decisions in the latter portions of the movie feel rushed given the the gravity of what they are. It’s a fleeting issue that didn’t bother me too much in the moment, but after finishing the movie I did feel like some of the later portions of the movie feel less earned.
Acting, characterization, and dialogue are almost always impeccable. Every conversation feels real because each actor/actress nails their motivations from their cadence to their body language. It’s hard to praise any performance in particular because all of them, especially each of the titular “Little Women” completely feels in the moment. Saying that, I have to be honest on how impressed I was with Florence Pugh. I already thought she was amazing in Midsommar – being able to portray grief and anguish in an very visceral way. After this, I’m in awe of her acting range. She gives Amy a real brattiness and sense of indulgence in the earlier timeline and projects a lot of maturity and pragmatism in the latter timeline. It’s a surprising blend that had me rooting for her character, in spite of the kind of horrendous things her character does.
The movie is packed to the brim with tons of relatable themes. Despite having a particularly feminist flair, the movie is for everyone. It’s not trying to exclude or ostracize. It never comes off as preachy. The ways that it critiques gender roles, women’s treatment in society, and the functions of marriage are all relevant and presented fairly and naturally. I thought the discourse on marriage as a communion predicated on love versus social ladder was made even more interesting by placing it in front of a discussion of a woman’s agency. If that’s not your groove, the movie tackles common issues we’ve all gone through- being nervous of pursuing our dreams, thinking we’re not good enough, balancing dreams with financial concerns, and trying to find love in a world that often times alienates us. There’s something in here for everyone.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Little Women is the feel good movie of 2019. The March family’s coming-of-age story has something for everyone and will have you laughing,crying,smirking, and glued to the screen the whole time. A fun time for the whole family with a ton of messages to boot.
Rating
9.7/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Lupita Nyong’o as Adelaide Wilson/Red Winston Duke as Gabe Wilson/Abraham Shahadi Wright Joseph as Zora Wilson/ Umbrae Evan Alex as Jason Wilson/ Pluto
Note: This review contains spoilers regarding the first 40 minutes of the film as opposed to the site’s usual benchmark of 10-20 minutes. The same effort towards sustaining the intrigue and momentum of the film, especially in its second and third acts, is maintained in this review, and all plot details revealed are just meant to be a springboard to discuss the scope of the work in better detail. Nothing discussed should undermine the “best” portions of the film or the many mysteries that keep the story engaging.
Thousands of tunnels exist underneath the Continental United States with no known purpose. A weather warning about a storm. An add for “Hands Across America”. Adelaide (Madison Curry) sees her reflection on the screen. An ad for the Santa Monica Beach. Adelaide (Madison Curry) wins the “11th” prize. After an introductory quote, the camera slowly pushes in towards a television which features a wide range of images on its screen: a weather warning, an advert for a charitable performance, a young girl’s reflection, and an advert for a beach. This initial tapestry will come to mean something far greater as the film continues.
The film opens with a quote explaining that there are thousands of tunnels underneath the Continental United States. Many of these passages have no known purpose and are thought to be empty. The quote disappears and the film cuts to a television screen which the camera slowly pushes in towards.
First, a weather report for an incoming storm plays. The number “11” is featured in the frame in three separate locations – a sign of things to come. Second, an advert for “Hands Across America”, a fundraiser meant to generate funds for the homeless via donation and a public demonstration of persons linking their hands across the country, proceeds in detail. The channel is changed by the viewer, a young black girl, Adelaide (Madison Curry), whose reflection can be seen on the screen temporarily. Finally, an advert for the Santa Monica Beach proceeds. Thus, the tapestry of the film is established: a storm, the number “11”, a mirror reflection, a symbol of unification meant to help the disenfranchised, and a beach for persons to enjoy a vacation in.
This image of the beach is replaced by the beach proper. Adelaide and her parents attempt to enjoy the festivities present at the location. Her father wins her the “11th” numbered prize, a Michael Jackson Thriller t-shirt, and the family unit departs to explore the grounds.
Adelaide (Madison Curry) heads towards the hall of mirrors. She drops her apple on the beach. Adelaide (Madison Curry) enters the hall of mirrors as a storm rages on behind her. Adelaide (Madison Curry) is forced to confront distorted reflections and is unable to find an exit. Adelaide (Madison Curry) comes face to face with her corporeal Other. Adelaide (Madison Curry) screams in terror. A rabbit stares into the camera. The blood red title card appears. A classroom of caged rabbits is revealed. The prologue continues to develop the meaning of the television images that came before in disturbing fashion. The “11’s” come to be associated with a Biblical warning promising terrible things to come. As the young Adelaide descends a staircase, drops her red apple, enters a maze of mirrors, and finds herself trapped by her reflections with no way out, the feeling of dread continues to get worse before bursting as she finds herself face-to-face with a corporeal doppelgänger. She screams but instead of showing a direct response to her cry for help, Peele cuts to the eyes of a rabbit and has the camera slowly track out – an opposite movement to the opening. The title card drops in a blood red that call’s back to the apple before the brand new environment, a classroom filled with rabbits, is shown with seemingly no explanations.
The trio splits apart and Adelaide finds herself roaming the grounds of the beach and its festivities by herself. She comes upon a man holding a sign reading “Jeremiah 11:11.” The Bible Verse in question proclaims: “Therefore this is what the LORD says: ‘I will bring on them a disaster they cannot escape. Although they cry out to me, I will not listen to them.” The preceding signs of “11” take an ominous tone, especially in conjunction with the aforementioned storm – something wicked is coming.
Adelaide descends a set of stairs and the mood gets eerier. She comes upon a Native American themed hall of mirrors titled “Shaman’s Vision Quest.” Thus, the indigenous is transformed into a commercial specter promising an internal revelation. The young girl drops her candy-coated apple – an Edenic symbol and a snack food associated with Halloween- on the shore before venturing into the abode. The foreboding feeling continues to build as a storm begins to rage outside – the ominous pieces showcased in the opening rear their heads in successive fashion.
Inside, Adelaide is thrown off guard first by a random power outage which forces her to traverse the darkness, a mechanical owl that frightens her, and then by a series of mirrors which distort her reflection and make the exit to the attraction impossible to locate. Her journey inwards transforms into a reflective labyrinth with no way out. Afraid, she starts to whistle the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” in an attempt to calm herself down. But as she proceeds to try and find through the maze of mirrors, she runs into a doppelganger – a corporeal copy of her instead of a reflection in glass. Her face breaks out into shock as the camera closes in on her expression before quickly cutting to the gaze of a rabbit staring into the frame.
In contrast to the opening push in on the television, the camera pulls back from this new visage, as though concluding the initial movement and tying the two together, and reveals a host of rabbits, all of which are trapped in sequential cages spanning the entire room. The blood red title card drops, calling back to the dropped apple from earlier and signaling an impending sense of violence.
The composition of this new room seems to be a classroom setting but outside of desks and rabbits there are no identifiable markers to make sense of where we’ve been transported to or why Adelaide’s scream has been answered with the gaze of an animal. The words of Jeremiah make this jarring edit all the more concerning. Is the cut to caged animals a deified sign of abandonment in response to Adelaide’s horror or something else entirely?
The camera goes over a forest……and settles on a car driving along. An image on the back of the car reveals the family’s backdrop before we even see them – we know their makeup. The camera moves over trees to the back of a car; an image of a family informs us of our lead characters before we get a chance to see them.
Instead of an answer, the momentum from the camera pulling out continues as the film cuts to a view of a lush, green forest. A car is seen driving through the greens. A sticker on the back of the car informs us that a family of four – a father, a mother, a son, a daughter – are traveling together. The symbolic representation of the family conveys all the information that’s required to understand this unit’s breakdown, but the camera cuts to reveal the individual persons behind the figures, imbuing the symbols with a content that personalizes them. A grown up Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) and her husband, Gabe (Winston Duke), are taking their kids, Zora (Shahadi Wright) and Jason (Evan Alex), to their beach house for a fun-filled vacation.
Adelaide arranges a host of toy animals “hand-to-hand” across a sandy plane, recreating the “Hands Across America” image. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) is transfixed by her past. A spider runs past its inanimate Other looming over it and casting a shadow. Adelaide’s trauma stays at the forefront of her mind and sings from her past linger like a puzzle for her to solve.
However, while things appear to be normal within the family, it’s apparent that the past still haunts Adelaide. While her family engages in a variety of shenanigans that helps us get a feel for their respective personalities – Jason is a playful trickster, Zora is a moody teen, Gabe is an energetic and playful father – Adelaide drifts from the present to the past, reliving her confrontation with her doppelganger and its aftermath. At first, she recounts the therapy session her parents took her to following the event. It’s revealed that she lost her ability to speak following the encounter with her Other self and built a line of toy animals “holding” each other’s “hands” across a beach-like backdrop; this image of unity, a reference to the “Hands Across America” advert from earlier was her object of focus in the face of trauma. Suddenly, she snaps back to the present and notices a spider crawling under a larger, inanimate model spider – an “itsy bitsy” spider and its unalive Other casting a shadow over it.
Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) stares at a stuffed bunny in adoration. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) looks at an image from her past. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) sees her younger self dancing in front of her. She can’t escape her fate as her past bleeds into her present and the symbols and their respective relationships continue to develop – a confrontation is coming soon.
Later on, she curiously picks up a stuffed bunny and looks at it with affection – a perplexing connection given the nature of the cut from her encounter with her Other self to the caged rabbit. Despite seemingly not encountering the creature herself, her encounter having ended with the confrontation and never approaching the hidden room containing the furry creatures, the animal has a hold over her. Along with the doll, she finds a picture of her from her youth in dance garb. This younger self materializes in the present, bringing her trauma to the forefront of her psyche and cementing the connection between the furry creature and the past that still haunts her. The web of symbols continues to get more intermixed amongst one another.
When Gabe mentions wanting to take the family to the Santa Monica Beach for the evening, Adelaide quickly refuses. She fears giving her trauma more control over her psyche via a confrontation with the arena in which she experienced it. Yet, her family’s, namely Gabe’s, passionate pleas get her to acquiesce to a short visit.
Gabe’s boat presentation doesn’t go as well as he hopes. The police take the body of the man who held the “Jeremiah 11:11” sign. The Wilson family casts long shadows on the beach. Jason (Evan Alex) walks past the mirrors. A red frisbee perfectly covers an image of a blue circle. Jason (Evan Alex) sees a bleeding man on the beach. No sooner do they she leave the house do creepy coincides start to arrive – 11:11, shadows, the house of mirrors, replacement, and a spectacle that causes fear. The past is starting to repeat.
He calls the family out to bask in his new boat purchase, albeit one that barely works and seems far from pristine, before the group leaves for the beach. His short-lived material celebration starts the journey on a dour note. The mood shifts towards a jovial attitude as Luniz’s “5 on It” plays on the car radio, prompting the family to sing along and share in the experience – fitting given the lyrics’ emphasis on paying one’s fair share (for drugs). However, as they get closer to the supposedly serene vacation spot, they notice police officers dealing with a deceased person. The camera lingers on a sign in the corpse’s hand just long enough to reveal that this is most likely the same person from Adelaide’s past who held and is still holding the Jeremiah 11:11 sign.
It’s not just her repression coming back into fold within her psyche, but the event itself seems to be repeating – a beach, then the quite literal sign from Jeremiah. If the pattern follows, confrontation with the Other is next. Fittingly, the soundscape transforms and an eerie chorus takes charge with a background chant. The sound of drums introduces a sense of discord as the family makes their way across the beach, casting large shadows, doubles, against the sand.
The mood turns temporarily jovial again as the group makes contact with their wealthier friends, the Tylers, who immediately engage in frivolities, boasting about their materialistic interests and highlighting the still-present class differences between the two families; even with a summer-home and a boat, the Wilson’s still experience a disjunction between their expectations of “wealthy life” and their reality. However, a series of unnerving coincidences continue to prop up during the groups dialogue, becoming increasingly disconcerting for Adelaide, who stays on a razor edge the entire time, watching over her family and ensuring that nothing happens to them.
Soon after, Jason momentarily disappears going towards the bathroom, passing by the same hall of mirrors his mother went into years ago during her fateful encounter. However, the location has gone through a transformation, and the indigenous décor has been replaced by European iconography; the Native American mascot has given way and been replaced by the wizard Merlin as it’s the European stand-in who now promises to reveal one’s “true” self. This seemingly innocuous transformation imbues the idea of the “Other” as a double that the film has been building with newfound colonialist undertones. This idea is accentuated when a red frisbee randomly falls onto the towel Adelaide is sitting on; an image of a blue dot is completely covered with a physical red circular object- a callback to the dropped Edenic apple from her youth and a repetition of the double as a replacement.
When Jason returns from the bathroom, the pressure building up culminates in a violent experience: he sees a loner bleeding out on the beach, seemingly unaware of the world around him. The air is rife with malevolence and it seems that something terrible is about to happen as history is on the verge of repeating. But Jason is immediately “rescued” by Adelaide, who refuses to allow her son to go through the same trauma she did when left to her own devices all those decades ago. The Wilson family quickly departs and leaves the scene before anything else can threaten to happen.
Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) reaches out to Jason (Evan Alex). The clocks hits “11:11”Adelaide realizes Jason’s seen too much – the violence is imminent. Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) looks at her reflection while recounting her past.The power goes out after Gabe tries to “lighten” the mood. The Wilson’s doppelgängers stand in silhouette holding each others hands. Try as she might, Adelaide can’t hold back the past’s encroachment and comes face to face with the doppelgänger she’s spent her whole life running from. Thus, the confrontation with the shadow Other begins (again).
Adelaide tries to reestablish a sense of normalcy back at the home. She reaches out to Jason and holds his hand, showcasing a sense of affection and solidarity with him given his off-kilter experience. But then the clock hits 11:11. Jeremiah’s warning refuses to go away and no number of assurances can hold back the tide of problems he prophesizes to come. Adelaide knows as much when she sees Jason’s drawing of his extreme encounter; violence is on the way and it can no longer be stopped or ignored.
She starts to come undone as her walls break down; the trauma of her past cannot be compartmentalized any longer. Suddenly, she finds herself telling Gabe about her history on the beach and her fateful encounter with her doppelganger; despite being able to get away from her Other, she lives in fear of eventually being caught by them and subject to something heinous. Gabe tries to lighten the mood with some humor, but the power, as if in response, goes out; just like the funhouse all those years ago, Adelaide is forced to traverse the darkness and find a way out, this time with family in tow.
But try as she might, she can’t run away from her destiny and finds herself face-to-face with a group of doppelgangers, one matching each of her own family members. This group, fully unified in a hand-to-hand embrace, stands in shadowy silhouette, ready to confront their “other” selves, our protagonists. For close to 40 minutes, Peele has let the respective elements – rabbits, reflections, shadows, Jeremiah’s warning, doubles – build up against a vantage point alluding to systemic violence – classism and imperialism – before finally allowing the battle between the self and its Other to “truly” begin in explosive fashion.
At a surface level, this story about doubles is unnerving in its own right and comes replete with its own associated motifs and undercurrents – the ideas of the loss of self and the encounter with unsavory elements that one tries to repress. And at this level, Peele certainly allows genre elements to play out in visceral, brutal fashion as the encounter marks the start of a series of escalating, violent clashes between the mirrored selves. However, the beauty of Us, stems not from these identifiable moments of subjective violence but from the way such moments reveal the “zero-level standard” of an “objective” violence that operate unseen in the background [1] Zizek, S. (2008). The Tyrant’s Bloody Nose . In Violence. introduction, Picador. . By placing identical but completely different persons, objects, and musical choices against one another and intermixing between them, Peele forces us to confront the ideological basis we use to categorize similar looking phenomena into completely distinct categories.
The ever-present doubling necessitates a navigation as every reflection brings with it its own set of questions. Characters don’t just meet their doubles at an individual level, but they also experience that double at a familial and social level – every structure, big and small, is presented with its mirror image which becomes more fragmented the bigger it gets. This makes the opening of the film before the confrontation all the more relevant, as even subtle characterizations become pivotal in examining the way differences bleed from the micro to the macro and become terrors that must be confronted.
Even the musical choices – inspired tracks which include the Beach Boy’s “Good Vibrations”, Fuck Tha Police by N.W.A, and the aforementioned “5 on It” by Luniz – play into this introspection as the context in which they play changes and symbolically restructures the nature of what the lyrics are getting at, sometimes within the same scene in which they’re introduced. No sound-image is as simple as its initial presentation and the constant juxtapositions force the viewer to navigate a maze of reflections, much like Adelaide did, in order to find the “truth” within.
It’s only by the end of the film that the nature and power of this “truth” is revealed as it operates both as a structuring mechanism within the narrative as a whole and as the grammar the film proper utilizes in jumping from scene to scene, demonstrating that the true horror comes not from an identifiable subject acting maliciously as much as it does from our symbolic interpretation of that violence qua violence – horror is what we make of it.
However, this message becomes muddied in the final act. Unlike Denis Villenevue’s Enemy, another doppelgänger horror thriller which commits emphatically to a surreal and less grounded worldbuilding in its storytelling approach and opts to use symbols as points and counterpoints to guide the viewer forward in a maze of meaning, Us bizarrely pivots to trying to ground its narrative in a sense of realism that immediately makes it seem absurd. We’re so attuned to the interplay of the symbols and the nuances behind them because of Peele’s dedication to getting us to engage with the film in a more cerebral manner that the film’s decision to explain the mystery in more concrete, definite terms ends up distracting us from what came before. Focus becomes split as suddenly the concern shifts from trying to understand the way violence operates vis-a-vis said symbols to the mechanics behind the way the narrative unfolds – a regrettable choice as its in this latter section that Us is far better at showing than explaining. It’s like reading poetry, filled with metaphor and analogy, and then being interrupted by mechanic prose which disrupts the melody; consequently, the poignancy of what came before feels less so.
Compared to his Peele’s previous effort, Get Out, which has a far smaller scope in what it wants to target but is far more concise in getting there, Us can feel haphazard, but the ambitions behind what it wants to say make it just as interesting, if not more so, to discuss and analyze. If one is willing to suspend their sense of disbelief for just long enough, they’ll walk away just as changed as the characters do by the end of this shadowy encounter.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Though it stumbles in its worldbuilding by the final act, the ambitions behind this doppelganger story offer far more than meets the eye as its examination of violence and the way its conceptualized reveal the source of “true” terror.
Rating
9.6/10
Grade
A+
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
George MacKay as William Schofield Dean-Charles Chapman as Tom Blake
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
119 minutes
I don’t really like war movies. They often feel repetitive and worn out to me, never really sticking out in my head. Don’t get me wrong. Movies like Dunkirk are great. They’re just not my thing. I only ended up watching this movie because I wanted to make sure to watch everything nominated for Best Picture. Much to my surprise, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the movie from start to finish and would heartily recommend it to anyone looking for a genuinely engaging cinematic experience.
The story picks up during WW1. British soldiers, William and Tom, are tasked with delivering orders to another platoon of soldiers to call of an doomed attack. They have to dodge German traps and forces, while acting under a time crunch, to keep their brethren from dying pointless painful deaths. For the most part, the story feels horrific and realistic. The brutality of war appears in almost every moment. There are bodies that litter the battlefield, bloated in the waters, hidden beneath rubble waiting to be popped open, and so much more. Death is palpable and ever present anytime we divide into groups that seek to destroy one another.
Though the plot isn’t particularly distinct from other war stories and doesn’t have any huge twists, it’s so breathtaking to experience that you don’t mind. The entire movie is edited to look like it’s one uncut take. You follow the soldiers as a follower. There’s no escape from the war and destruction. You can’t look away because the camera is directly in the middle of all the action. There are no cuts for breaks so the action feels non-stop. However, despite this, the movie never feels like it lacks for scale. There are huge gorgeous set pieces and mesmerizing visual sequences that Mendes somehow manages to fit within the purview of the camera without ever disrupting the flow of the movie. The camera twists and turns in the environment,so despite having no “cuts” and being confined to one continuous “frame”, the movie somehow feels larger than life. The sound design perfectly compliments the way the camera ebbs and flows. It’s not super memorable, but the music did it’s job and helped amped up the underlying feeling in each scene. Sound cuts in and out exactly when it needs to which makes emotional moments more intense.
Though I loved the the latter half of the movie, I couldn’t help but notice how much it went against the realism the movie had established up till then. Acts that would have killed characters earlier in the movie feel like they do almost nothing in the latter half. There were moments where I felt some people had a bit too much plot armor. I really wish the movie had stuck with the rules and had unraveled in a more consistent fashion. It’s not that it makes the experience less fun, but it certainly takes away from the impact of the deaths and the themes at play.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
1917 is a gorgeous cinematic achievement that any cinephile should watch. Taking the experience of war and portraying it “one take” captures the gritty reality and miserable affair that war really is. Though the story betrays its more serious logic in the latter half, nothing never feels boring or schlocky. There are gorgeous set pieces and action moments, and I know I’ll be purchasing the 4K when it comes out.
Rating
9.2/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
Nicholas Cage as Nathan Gardner Madeleine Arthur as Lavinia Gardner Joely Richardson as Theresa Gardner Elliot Knight as Ward Phillips
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
English
Running Time
115 minutes
If you like Lovecraft or enjoy the story this movie is based on, please do yourself a favor and watch it. The feeling, tone, and aesthetic are all distinctly Lovecraftian but feel renovated for a modern era. Stanley has done a great job directing a modern story that disorients its audience while keeping what made the original story distinctive and memorable.
The story follows the Gardeners, a family living out in the sticks, trying to forge a new life as farmers. Then one day, a meteorite crashes in their year, painting the sky in a neon pink/purple and causing the earth to quake. Soon after, the Gardner’s notice some strange happenings going with mutations in their vegetation and wildlife. The story starts off slow, but after a certain moment in the latter half of the movie, things go absolutely off the rails in the best possible way.
Light spoilers here, but the titular colored light works to zoink out the psyche and perception of those affected by it. The movie spends a decent amount of time building up characters and their orientations towards life, so the changes they go through because of the light are genuinely unnerving manifestations of their inner drives. Watching each actor/actress go from point A to point B is entertaining and believable (for the most part). Cage in particular has a standout performance as the Gardener father, Nathan. He’s asked to go to dark strange places and it can get uncomfortable. At times, certain performances seem comical but I can’t tell if that’s because of the nature of the horror or the performance proper. Needless to say, there were a lot of moments I laughed. I don’t know if black comedy is how I’d describe it – it’s more perverse than what I normally associate with that.
The special effect work done is amazing. The lighting effects really ride the line on comical and mesmerizing and the balance achieved kept me staring at the screen. However, what I’m really talking about is the creature effects. I was immediately reminded me of some of the terrifying creatures from The Thing, but slightly touched up to look more modern. There are some nightmare moments from the movie that haven’t left me since I watched it – stuff that’ll stick to your head for a good while, especially if you let the experience take you.
The nature of the movie leaves it open to a lot of interpretation. My personal take is that the movie is about humanity’s relation to nature. We seek control and compartmentalize it , as though it’s an entity that exists beneath us as opposed to being something that should be treated with some kind of reverence. Nature can at any point turn and is impartial to those it takes. Nothing can really protect you no matter how safe you think you are. I’ve read Staley’s interview and can definitely see where he was coming from (and think that he managed to naturally depict a lot of what he talked about) . A friend I was watching with had his own interpretation, so what I’m saying is this is a good thinking movie. There’s not precise or clean answers and it invites discussion.
While I appreciate the changes made to the original story, I wish Stanley would have gone a bit further. A few of the scares feel more horrifying because of how they’re tied in to the characters respective fear/personality but it doesn’t happen for all the characters. It feels like an odd choice that could’ve been ironed out. It’s especially strange given some later character choices that just scream bad idea. You know the one where the audience is screaming, “No, you idiot don’t do that.” Granted you could just chalk those up to “X is crazy because of the light” but the movie feels smarter than that.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Color Out of Space should satisfy any fans of Lovecraftian/cosmic horror. It has splendid visuals, an absurd story, and some horrifying monstrosities that’ll haunt my nightmares for weeks to come. If you enjoyed Annihilation, give this a gander. It shares a lot of similarities but goes in a completely different direction – more horror, less sci-fi.
Rating
9.3/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 to view this review’s progress report .
Kotaro Daigo as Hodaka Morishima Nana Mori as Hina Amano Shun Oguri as Keisuke Suga
Release Date
2019
Language(s)
Japanese
Running Time
112 minutes
I’ve always liked Shinkai’s work (5 Centimeters per Second, The Garden of Words) but I’ve never fallen in love with anything in the same as I did with Your Name.Like tons of other people around the world, I couldn’t stop gushing over the 2016 runaway hit. As such, I came into this movie with high expectations. I know ,I know, bad idea. Thankfully, Lady Luck was looking out and I got more than what I expected. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way the movie ended or been able to stop humming the main theme, so suffice to say I think it’s pretty good.
If you haven’t seen trailers- don’t. I think most trailers for this movie spoil too much and the experience will feel more magical if you go in “blind”. The story follows Hodaka, a high-school boy, who runs away to Tokyo and runs into Hina, a girl with the magical power to change the weather. Such an ability would be an amazing in the ordinary, but in this world where huge downpours and flooding are commonplace, a ray of sunshine can mean the world. The movie explores homelessness, climate change, and humanity’s spiritual connection with the environment with almost seamless execution while telling a fun fantastical romance.
I really like the post-apocalyptic/slow apocalyptic feeling the movie has. Hope in spite of the crushing weight of everything is something that I can relate to, especially in relation to the climate crisis we’re in that shows little hope of being reversed. Eventually, when events like mass flooding become more commonplace ,humanity is going to be forced to adapt or be eliminated. Can there still be hope and optimism in a world where everything is slowly being subsumed ,doomed to eventually disappear? Is a world like that tragic or can life still be happy in spite of it all? The story does a good job introducing these beats and developing them in ways that are bittersweet.(Mostly) Nothing feels unearned or easy.
The movie is gorgeous when it wants to be (so most of the time). There are scenes from the 3rd act that I don’t think I’ll be forgetting any time soon. Backgrounds look life-like and the rain is mesmerizing. The sheer power of nature comes through each and every frame. There are a few moments of CGI that feel abrupt and really took me out of the movie. The movie is just so beautiful that any incongruous element feels even more off putting than it would be normally. If you liked the soundtrack from Your Name, you’ll be pleased with what RADWIMPS has cooked up for this story.
My problems with the movie lie with the execution of certain sub-plots. The issue is most of the plot lines in the movie are executed almost impeccably. The moments and relations are grounded even though they’re mystical at the same time. Unfortunately, one of the more important plot threads for the third act falls short of the above. It’s not given the same sense of realism and feels more gimmicky. It’s not that big of an issue because thematically the thread is great. I just wish it didn’t come at the cost of the meticulous sense of consequence that had been building up till that point.
REPORT CARD
TLDR
Weathering for You is a beautiful fantasy romance that delivers a thematically rich story with wonderful characters. There are only a few plot issues, but by the end of the movie you won’t be thinking about them. If you liked Your Name, check this out. If you’re looking for a meaningful tale about our relationship to the planet , I’d also recommend giving this a view.
Rating
9.3/10
Grade
A
Go to Page 2 for the spoiler discussion. Go to Page 3 to view this review’s progress report .
