Leave it to the comedic genius behind movies like What We Do in the Shadows and Thor: Ragnarok – to date, the wackiest (and funniest) departure from the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s “house style” – to give us a Wes Anderson movie with Adolf Hitler as a supporting character. Apologies if that’s a bit reductive, but it’s too perfect a comparison not to make. Taika Waititi has established his own style and aesthetic in movies like Boy and Hunt for the Wilderpeople, but in Jojo Rabbit, the Anderson comparisons are apt.
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We all have that acquaintance, friend, or family member who use their Facebook profile solely to antagonize members of their social circle whom they consider their political enemies. These are almost always people who would never do the same thing in a face to face setting. They like to “start shit,” but from the safety of their phone. These people are a shade different from what are popularly known as internet trolls, because they believe in the opinions they’re expressing, so it’s not 100% about getting under their target’s skin. It’s only 75% about that. Vice, Adam McKay’s inflammatory, obnoxious biopic about Dick Cheney, arguably the most destructive vice president in American history, is the cinematic equivalent of these true-believer assholes.
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I have to wonder if Blaze, Ethan Hawke’s luminous music biopic about little-known country music singer/songwriter Blaze Foley, would have been as transfixing if Hawke hadn’t focused so much on romanticizing poverty. This is Hawke’s third feature film directorial effort. Telling the Outlaw Country musician’s story became a passion project for the Texas-born actor. Foley’s story is one of crushing deprivation, self-sabotage, and ends in the singer’s tragic death at the young age of 39 (don’t worry, that’s not much of a spoiler; we learn about Foley’s death in the first ten minutes of the picture).
Our society exalts the idea of the starving/suffering artist, and Hawke taps into that with Blaze. Foley was a man who was seemingly incapable of doing anything but making music, regardless of whether he could make a living at it. He was also good at bestowing back-country philosophy on those around him, earning him the nickname Duct Tape Messiah. I think we all know how little money there is in being contemplative about life and our place in the universe.
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Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is the kind of movie that gets an Oscar Best Picture nomination because the people in charge think it’s gritty, meaningful filmmaking full of important social commentary. In actuality, it’s a movie that uses relevant social topics – namely police brutality and inaction – in a cynical ploy for cheap exploitation and shock value. This is a nihilistic movie that delights in trying to offend. There is a painful tone-deafness in how Three Billboards attempts to mix comedy and pathos. The plot machinations, especially late in the film, become so creaky that several key points are unbelievable, even laughable.
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The North Texas Film Critics Association (NTFCA), of which I am a member, voted this month to honor the best films of 2017. As an organization, the NTFCA is proud to call attention to outstanding achievements in the craft of filmmaking. I consider movies to be not only entertainment, but in the best examples, they are also art. They teach us about the human condition. Here are the winners for each category in which we voted:
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“Who would have a box full of clowns?” That’s the question young Griffin Bowen (Kyle Catlett) asks his father, Eric (Sam Rockwell), upon discovering said box while exploring his new attic bedroom. That question begs infinitely more while watching Poltergeist, the remake of the classic 1982 horror film of the same name. By the end, only one question ultimately mattered: Why re-do such a popular and well-regarded movie if you’re going to do it with absolutely no style? I’m relatively sure no filmmaker goes into a project with that intention, but that’s the end result with this version of Poltergeist. The movie is as bland as baby food.
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