Tangerine

Tangerine

Director – Sean Baker

Writers – Sean Baker, Chris Bergoch

2015, USA

Stars – Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, Mya Taylor, Karren Karagulian

 

Just out of jail when her friend accidentally tells her the truth about her pimp boyfriend’s infidelities, transgender sex-worker Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) goes on a rampage of indignation.

 

Of course, the first thing that prefaces the film is knowing that it was filmed on iPhones (“fitted with Kickstarter-funded lensadapters and software that allowed Baker to lock exposure and focus to his ownspecifications”). Seen some comments that this gives an ugliness, but, to this viewer, it shares the similar over-saturated and guerrilla-style street vibrancy and mobility of ‘American Honey’ or ‘Spring Breakers’. And there is a dominance of streetwise dramatics that allows this “gimmick” to become secondary. Improving on this, the casting of real trans actors and allowing them to improvise the salty language allows and provides verisimilitude and respect. 

This means that a lot of improvised dialogue is bitching and invective, with Sin-Dee’s “wronged lover” reaction proving violent so that we can easily see how she might have got herself arrested. But the last moments of reconciliation make clear the message that, when it comes to the crunch, these are still marginalised people and that all they have are each other.

But what struck me was how much the narrative runs on the tropes of farce. All the strands meet up at Donut Time for comical showdowns and revelations. There’s even a Difficult Mother-In-Law. But what’s more impressive is that, given this, it avoids the typical farce trope of locating humour in the man-in-a-dress symbol. Rather, it saves its ire and mockery for a guy that isn’t honest, living a duplicitous life. 

 

And yet, despite settling for the humour of farce for its denouement, ‘Tangerine’ isn’t truly interested in broad caricatures and allows moments of depth and sympathy for everyone: Razmik (Karren Karagulian) is just as trapped by the constraints of machismo as anyone else is to gender types; it would seem the wife chooses a blind eye; as the subject of Sin-Dee’s wrath, Dinah (Mickey O'Hagan) seems to live a truly scuzzy, restrictive life by comparison, and their gradual moments of bonding speak to shared status trumping personal grievance; even the pimp Chester (James Ransone) seems a little conflicted in confessing his relationship with Sin-Dee. But no one elsee seems to have the freewheeling independence of Sin-Dee and Alexandra, however messy and transitory it may be, and that’s where they come through as triumphant, despite or because of the dangerous world they live in. Through this attention to character, ‘Tangerine’ proves humane and slyly critical of cultural conservatism.

Interstellar

Interstellar

Director – Christopher Nolan

Writers – Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan

2014, USA-UK-Canada

Stars – Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain

 

‘Interstellar’ is ultimately more about parenting than space adventures. This is what they call the “heart” of the film. Perhaps this may interest you more than the hard science-fiction elements such as playing with time and wormholes that occur in the second act, or maybe not.  There is little doubt that this middle section, which involves visiting other planets in a search of a new home for mankind, can provoke genuine awe: it’s what special-effects companies were made for, to provide alien landscapes and giant waves and spaceships… But despite this, there is the nagging self-absorbed feeling that the film thinks that the human individual and his feelings trump this awe. There’s the sense that it’s a little strong on the “I am centre of the universe (and other dimensions)!” It’s the same issue that troubles ‘Arrival’, although ‘Arrival’, as Philip Challinor writes, fails dramatically by making the super-smarts of its female protagonist secondary to motherhood (be smart, girls, but don’t forget what you’re on the planet for!). Not that science-fiction can’t be moving,* but these films seem to foreground and broadcast their emotional arcs in such a mainstream fashion (“Hey, we’re going to be, you know, weepy!”) that their serious treatment of otherworldly ideas seem belittled consequently.

Perhaps this would not be so problematic if Matthew McConaughey (who is, you know, great) as Cooper was not such an all-round genius at everything: not only is he an accomplished farmer but he used to be a brilliant space-craft pilot too. He kind of excels at parenting too: he’ll happily drive through a field of presumably precious crops for an exhilarating parenting moment in pursuit of an errant old drone, for example.** This means his character doesn’t really offer friction, except where he might occasionally butt heads with others. But we know they’re wrong and he’s right anyway. He is perpetually in motion by quest, but when he finally makes his way back his daughter, the moment is more-or-less waved off and brief, leading the audience investment a little short-changed. For a film so hellbent on parenting-as-cosmic-quest, the daughter should not be a McGuffin.

‘Interstellar’ won the American Film Institute 2015 award, and the blurb says:

INTERSTELLAR is proof on earth that artists provide our strongest voice to rage against the dying of the light. Christopher Nolan illuminates the darkness of deepest space with the brilliance of his singular creative vision, while grounding the cosmos in a deeply emotional tale of fathers and daughters. This is cinema at its most ambitious, with Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway and Jessica Chastain providing the beating heart to this awe-inspiring work that reaches across time and space to find meaning in the unexplainable.

 Well, it is a film that is heavy on explanations for its science-fiction – black holes, other dimensions, etc – and that’s what agreeably grounds it. This is where it shines: heady ideas and existential peril that bends time and space.

The imbalance is that the sentimentality outweighs the science-fiction. The aesthetic, effects and ideas are fascinating and wonderfully executed, because Nolan excels at this stuff; indeed, this middle section is apparently credited more to Christopher than his co-writer, Jonathan Nolan. But these strengths are mitigated by the human drama being routine and pedestrianly executed. Hans Zimmer will sweep and soar at the emotional bits, for example (but the score did win an Oscar). It’s very signposted and it is not nearly as smart as it should be; or rather it relationship drama could benefit from being as smart as its concepts. 

The ending is not so much gratuitous as a little unsatisfying. Via Entertainment Weekly:

Nolan’s early take on the ending, however, essentially cuts Cooper off inside the black hole. His script “had the Einstien-Rosen bridge [wormhole] collapse when Cooper tries to send the data back.”

Actually, Jonathan Nolan's original ending would have struck me as more tragic rather than sentimental, and therefore conceptually superior. Science would not necessarily give way to sentiment.

‘Ad Astra’ is more obvious pulpy fun because its flaws are more evident so you can just go along for the ride without thinking too hard. ‘2001: a space odyssey’ remains the pinnacle of Hard Sci-Fi cinema and doesn’t feel the need to explain itself or rely on routine human dramatics. ‘Interstellar’ is better than the former but doesn’t reach the heights of the latter.

When I watched ‘Interstellar’ for a second time, I enjoyed it more as pulp, as the kind of science-fiction I was reading as a teenager (Harry Harrison comes to mind). For me, in this example, “grounding the cosmos in a deeply emotional tale of fathers and daughters” is not respectful of and belittles the cosmos.

·   * For example, that’s me as an adult on the bus trying not to cry as I’m finishing ‘Flowers for Algernon’; that’s me as a teenager wondering why Philip K Dick’s ‘Our Friends from Frolix 8’ has left me feeling so oddly emotional.

·   ** They grew the field for the film and sold the crops.

One moment in: Zombie Flesh Eaters

 ZOMBIE FLESH EATERS

ZOMBI 2

Director – Lucio Fulci

Writers – Elisa Briganti, Dardano Sacchetti (uncredited)

1979, Italy

Stars – Tisa Farrow, Ian McCulloch, Richard Johnson

Probably the film that saved Italian cinema and part of a particularly notorious strain of extreme splatter that would fuel the  Eighties’ Banned Films list. The eye-gouging is the other scene, but the shark-versus-zombie is the sequence that stands out. It registers high on the WTF!? chart because whereas the eye-gouging is special effects, that’s a real shark.

Fulci is not an elegant filmmaker (although I did find that quality in 'Don't Torture a Duckling'), but he knows how to lay out a set piece. It’s only the set-pieces that matter; or at the RottenTomatoes critic consensus says “Zombi 2 [‘Zombie Flesh Eaters’’ original title] is an absurdly graphic zombie movie legendary for some gory scenes and nothing in between.” Yes, but it scores high on the schlock meter. One moment you can laugh at the dialogue and inattention to detail and the next admire the boldness of the set pieces. So two people got past that guard on the boat, and then he just shakes his head upon finding a couple canoodling on a crime scene? And there’s no escaping the fact that the main reason the zombies get to chomp on the cast is that they stand still long enough for the undead to shamble up. Yet it’s not in the So Bad It’s Good camp. It’s the kind of laughable inattention to internal logic and detail that brings out the nit-picker and in me, although I am less likely to dismiss an entire film on what I see as flaws now (say, far less likely to reject the roast meal because I don’t like the swede), and I do not gravitate towards schlock. However, there is something in Fulci that always intrigues me, and I put it down to the set-pieces. The final cellar scene in ‘The House by the Cemetery’ is another favourite. Although it’s the gore-pieces that get the renown, ‘Zombie flesh Eaters’’ scene of the rising of the dead from the graveyard is equally effective (hey this helmet must be 400 years old!). 

So, the scene goes: exploitation objectification of Auretta Gay as she undresses and stays topless to do a spot of underwater photography (regardless of any urgency in the search for a missing father); a bit Jacques Cousteau; then the threat of a shark; then the appearance of a zombie – underwater! – then a showdown between shark and zombie. Ramón Bravo as the zombie gets up close to tussle with the dangerous fish and it’s most satisfying. There’s an inherent pasted-together veneer to Fulci’s direction that makes any clumsiness and continuity issues in this sequence irrelevant. Is there a little inconsistency with how big the shark is portrayed? Didn’t the zombie tear a chunk from the shark? Just the verve and audacity of the concept, and the knowledge of the perils involved with filming (it would just be CGI if done now), make this fun and unique. You even get ripping sounds when underwater foliage is torn off to fend away attacking zombies, and chomping sounds from the shark. Meanwhile, Georgio Tucci’s* score throbs along most leisurely and incongruously. 

And then the characters never mention it again. 

Wikipedia says: “The underwater scene featuring a shark attack was devised by Ugo Tucci, and was shot without Fulci's approval, by Giannetto De Rossi, in Isla Mujeres, with the zombie portrayed by a local shark trainer.”** It is, of course, the kind of juvenile mash-up concept that leads to ‘Sharkotopus’, or ‘Freddy vs Jason’, or ‘Frankenstein meets the Wolfman’ and its ilk; the kind that can be more silly than inspired. But this is an occasion where it works, and of course one cannot help but think of ‘Jaws’ and in terms of a face-off between two mighty monsters. We can go meta with it: low-budget battling mainstream takeover. There’s no higher, smoother art required from Fulci – the typically negligible logic, drama, characters, dialogue, and dubbing undermine that from the start. But, again, the execution of the set pieces is all. 

The film looks great: Sergio Salvati’s cinematography capturing the anti-Gothic crisp brightness of the crewless boat on the New York City Harbour and then of the tropical island. It also means there’s no shadows for these undead – Romero’s ‘Dawn of the Dead’ showed how these monsters weren’t interested in dark corners – and these zombies look great and disgusting. Again, there’s almost a juvenile edge to this too – worms in eye-sockets!! – and how they regularly seem to have freshly blood-stained chins is a bit of a mystery.

Compared to Romero, this is unintentional comedy, but Fulci was capable of far worse (‘Zombi 3’***). It may be mockable for its flaws but its set-pieces still make this enjoyable. And notorious. 

·       * Music by:  Giorgio Cascio      (as Giorgio Tucci), Fabio Frizzi          and (uncredited) Adriano Giordanella and Maurizio Guarini.

·       ** Albiero, Paolo; Cacciatore, Giacomo (2004). Arriva il "poète du macabre", ovvero: Zombi 2 (1979), in Il terrorista dei generi. Tutto il cinema di Lucio Fulci (in Italian). Un mondo a parte.

*** As a friend chides me: "the Zombie 3 reference isn't really fair cos he only directed like 20%, the rest was Bruno Mattei."

Caught in Time

Caught in Time

除暴

Director – Ho-Leung Lau

Writers – Leo Hong, Ho-Leung Lau

2020, China-Hong Kong

Star – Qianyuan Wang, Daniel WuJessie Li

 

Quite a mess of a film, all flashbangdazzle and propaganda. ‘Caught in Time’ is ostensibly based upon the true case of Zhang Jun, but not a note of it rings true. Not least the title, whose history according to Wikipedia speaks of political agenda over logic: “The film's working title was 限期破案; Xiànqī Pò'àn, literally "Solving the case in time", but in September 2020 the title was changed to 除暴; Chúbào, literally "Getting rid of outlaws", in support of the ongoing law enforcement campaign to crack down on underworld crimes.” At least the last one makes sense where the others don’t as many people are murdered and injured and the case takes at least a year, so the “in time” is surely arguable.

 

The veracity is unconvincing not just because of the usual liberties taken to bring a “true story” to the screen, but mostly because Lau Ho-Leung takes the approach that this tale is just an excuse for a director’s box-of-tricks, leaving the story secondary. It has bombast to rival Zack Snyder or Baz Luhrmann. And also, partly because it’s a vehicle for Chinese state propaganda, which is obvious from the moment they take time to peel fliers from a patriotic poster (and these must be the easiest fliers to peel), and then it ends with a state execution and text that the Chinese police force make the country one of the safest in the world.

 

It also falls to unintentional humour, not just the fliers raising an eyebrow but also when the cop stops a riot with some reprimanding words; when he finds himself dream-dashing through security camera footage; or when car lights shine on a patriotic salute.

 

For the propogandist element and turning the true crime casualties into just collateral damage in the bid for exhilarating set-pieces (there’s a rather good street battle and the bathhouse showdown looks suitably brutal and painful), its misjudgements and token depth-deprived characters make it hard to take it on just a superficial action entertainment level.

The Black Phone

The Black Phone

Director – Scott Derrickson

Writers – Joe Hill (based on the short story 'The Black Phone' by), Scott Derrickson (screenplay by), C. Robert Cargill (screenplay by)

2021, USA

Stars – Mason Thames, Madeleine McGraw, Ethan Hawke

 

Adapted from Joe Hill’s short story: Hill is, like his dad, a writer that offers lots of enjoyment from horror tropes. There’s enough edge followed up with neat resolution to make the genre a safe space to exorcise anxieties: red meat with just desserts. It’s comfort food horror. Having established a Seventies context – allowing for mention of ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ and use of the Scratchy Retro-Film flashback filter – ‘The Black Phone’ sets up a memorable child abductor in which Ethan Hawke’s performance finds many creepy sleazy and unnerving corners mostly through line readings as his face is obscured by The Grabber’s mask (designed by Tom Savini and co., horror fans!).

 

Abducted and stored in a basement that’s empty but for a disconnected black phone on the wall, young Finney (Mason Thames) finds that The Grabber will procrastinate long enough for ghosts of his other child victims to call on it with semi-vague advice on survival. Having set up the unsettling threat of The Grabber, the script has the ghosts talk with annoying allusiveness so that the runtime isn’t too short, and once the tacky ghosts appear, it becomes clear that the supernatural half is almost ‘Goosebumps’ level (the supernatural is the bond that kids have to overcome the violence of adults). And that’s fine, but there’s a lack of balance here; the slightly drained indie-vibe perhaps promises a grimness, or at something like ‘The Boy Behind the Door’, but that’s not fully the case. The unscary supernatural element is nowhere near as unsettling as the violence and brutality of the bullying or the abuse at home. It’s the same with the popular ‘It: part 2’ where a nasty homophobic attack opens proceedings and casts doubt on the fearsomeness of the fantasy threats). ‘The Black Phone’ film also seems a little coy about what The Grabber does, although there are plenty of hints at the unspeakable. The recent ‘Scary Stories to tell in the Dark’ had the balance right – nastiness for young folk, but a lightness of touch – and then there’s the more recent example ‘Summer of ‘84’ proves itself to be playing a far darker game and isn’t comfort food at all.

‘The Black Phone’ isn’t quite bolstered up so much so that you don’t note the plot holes as you are watching. Wasn’t he going to see his pal after school? But then again, the timescale is unclear overall. He’s abducted but The Grabber doesn’t come down too much and certainly doesn’t see all the digging and other attempts to escape, which you think he might since the previous captives also tried. And if we go with that, surely, he would have seen the freezer damage (again, the timescale is unclear so maybe The Grabber wasn’t due to visit the freezer)? And I am not convinced the police would come out in force based on her call. Hell, if you’re going to strip the basement, why leave a broken phone on the wall at all? All this to say that ‘The Black Phone’ is as frustrating in its plot holes as it is enjoyable in its play with tropes. Or, as George Elkind writes, “Its best moments far outstrip its worst ones, though, resulting in a work that feels at once fussily prepared and a bit undercooked, with artistic attention and running time too often feeling misspent.”

 

It’s a coming-of-age film where the kid gets the respect and awe his peers and of those that bullied him and he gets the girl. All he has to do to gain his masculine credentials is to abducted by a murderous sleazeball and turn his back on his natural aversion to extreme violence to survive. He’ll even get a couple of one-liners: “It’s for you!” and “Call me Finn.”

It has an agreeable indie-vibe and Derrickson seems sincere. Mostly, the film’s strength is the performances of Thames, Hawke and Medeline McGraw – the latter as Finney’s sister Gwen having an existential crisis when her supernatural visions are, like the ghosts, giving her clues that tend to abstractions. Hawke’s vocal performance and the two-part mask nicely convey a fractured psyche. Thames conveys Finney’s intelligence and fortitude even as he is sometimes paralysed in the face of violence, so that when he just becomes a conventional precocious kick-ass, it’s arguably a betrayal of a more complex character.