Because if there's one thing everyone wants more than Shia LaBeouf, it's Shia LaBeouf sporting a mullet and pony-tail combination set, armed with a moral compass that would make D*nald Tr*mp nod approvingly*1, right?
Trapped in a life that's only just one step up from a trailer-park, Star (Sasha Lane) yearns for more. She doesn't know what exactly, but a chance encounter with Jake (Shia LaBeouf) and a group of disparate young travellers selling magazine subscriptions from town to town sees her take a punt on a new path. But as the pecking order of the collective becomes apparent, Star has to reconcile what she's left behind with what she can meaningfully gain from her new surroundings…
First things first: for a road movie, American Honey sure takes its time. Not its time in getting started, just in deciding where it's going. Like an extended journey with people you largely don't like and none of them have remembered to bring a map but they're loaded with more bad hip-hop than you can shake a stick at. It never bored or annoyed me, but the thought occurred on more than one occasion that a film this damned long should really have more content (for reference, you could watch the rise and fall of Tony Montana and still have a whole minute's change).
And It's a brave cinematographer who makes a movie in 3:4 aspect-ratio in this day and age. Braver still when the entire film is shot on a hand-held camera and jump-cut edited together. This often feels like watching someone's home-video footage, especially in the car-interior scenes, although I don't necessarily mean that as a compliment. While everyone's relatively comfortable on camera, there's a lack of direction to these group scenes both figuratively and cinematically (although not literally, as the people-carrier is moving undeniably forwards, I'll give it that). On top of that, the mumbled dialogue (which often has all the hallmarks of improvised lines performed by non-actors) is one thing, but combine that with an atrocious sound-mix when there's anything other than mumbled dialogue and you'll be praying for subtitles by the half-hour mark.
But on the plus side (for all my moaning before and after this paragraph, it's a fascinating movie), the camera finds the landscape and wildlife of America far more interesting than the cast, and a Peter Pan / Lost Boys theme peeks its head through from time to time*2, enough to be intriguing, although it really isn't developed the way it could be.
At its core though, I just didn't really get the film. I didn't feel excluded by what was happening, but there was a cultural gap I just couldn't cross. As well as the characters selling what I'm assuming were entirely non-existent magazine subscriptions, the setup itself was something I found hard to relate to. As much as Star is a sympathetic character, the problem (for me) could be that the closest we have in the UK to these groups is those packs of cause-hopping charity muggers that roam the high-streets with clipboards and annoying personalities. The ones I systematically blank or avoid without fail. This film certainly didn't endear me to the mindset, although I'm not sure it's meant to, to be honest.
I should probably have liked American Honey more*3 (in fact, I know I should), but the aspects I enjoyed were outweighed by the ones I either didn't or just didn't get. Much like the central character's journey, the film ambles along without rules or responsibility. It's something to be applauded in theory, but I just couldn't relax when I was expecting someone to be murdered for most of the movie. Although the film occasionally strays into dark quarters, it never lingers there too long and there doesn't seem to be any moral or narrative consequence of it happening. I'd even fine with the noncommittal ending if it hadn't followed a noncommittal story.
I know I'm missing something obvious and massive, but what's with the recurring insect-theme? Answers in the comments, please.
I think my favourite bit could be the drugged-up weirdo*4, sleepwalking around a parking lot and mumbling about the spice-mines of Kessel. As Star Wars references go, it's hard to beat and something we don't even get in Kevin Smith's movies…
All of the unease of murdery road-trip movies, but little of the drama.
It's shot in handheld, 3:4 aspect-ratio.
With the best will in the world, it's not designed for the cinema.
Oh probably, I don't know.
I have no idea.
Sasha Lane is good, though.
Not at all.
Not at all.
Level 2: Well, Shia was in that Indiana Jones movie that no-one except me likes alongside Captain Solo himself, Harrison Ford.
*1 Yeah, I know that Shia is an Actor and he's Acting. But we both know that Shia's kinda troubled off-the-camera, too. It doesn't make for easy-watching
*2 Although with the lead character being called Star and shots of the group jumping through a makeshift bonfire, the film arguably owes less to the Peter Pan mythos than it does to the actual Lost Boys movie itself. Another reason I kept expecting someone to be killed, imminently.
*3 And y'know, I like Lady Antebellum as much as the next guy (maybe a little more, actually), but when you specifically namecheck their song which is also the title of the film in act one, then pretend to resist playing it until five minutes before the end? That shit seems shoehorned, no end.
*4 In fact, I assume that she was drunk or drugged-up, but for a lot of the film I couldn't tell who was engaging in substance-abuse and who was just vulnerable and with learning-difficulties. In a film like this it could be either, frankly, and the fact that it isn't really explored at all is worrying in itself...
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
David Ayer's 1940s grimace-fest is a difficult film to like, and I mean that as both a compliment and a detraction. So much time is spent in the first act illustrating what a bunch of a-holes Brad Pitt's war-weary tank crew have become, that when the shit really hits the fan and the man-hugs start breaking out, you've still got the abiding memory of a bunch of borderline sociopaths dampening the emotional atmosphere. Strangely, it was only two days ago that I re-stumbled across the phrase 'no characters think of themselves as the bad guy; they're all the heroes in a different movie'. It seems that in Fury, almost the opposite is true, and writer/director Ayer is so keen to illustrate the morally corrosive effect of sustained warfare that no-one in the film escapes with their halo intact.
But Fury isn't an ode to the pointlessness of war (not on the surface, at least), even if it does veer as closely to War Horse as it does Inglourious Basterds. And while I'm on the subject, allow me to throw in a pre-emptive yes, I'm comparing it to Tarantino's war-movie. Ayer's flick stars Brad Pitt in a role that's not a million miles away from Lt. Aldo Raine, and like its counterpart it has a tendency to drop into extended dialogue scenes. This, however, is where Uncle Quentin has the undeniable upper-hand. David Ayer seems far more interested in directing brutal and bloody violence than he does the quiet, character-building scenes, which pretty much gives the lie to any philosophical undertones the film might be suggesting…
Praise where it's due, the combat scenes in Fury (whether they're melee, firearm or artillery-based) are fucking astounding. Seriously. The sound-design details every ping, bang, ricochet and thudding explosion; the visual effects feature a rotoscoping for the gunfire which reminded me of the original-print version of 1977's Star Wars; and Roman Vasyanov's camera captures every twitch, scowl and grimace on the faces of a not-inconsiderable cast. The central players all do a solid job of giving complex performances*1, but there are hints of character which are drowned out by the explosions, and which could have been expanded far more given the opportunity.
When it's being a war-movie, Fury wears its title on its sleeve like a well-earned medal. It's the other film I had issues with. The one which is trying to justify lingering repeatedly on the unrelenting violence by giving us mumbled dialogue and skipping over the exposition of a narrative so linear that the tanks barely need to steer. The film which has its knowingly-flawed characters preach about the evils of the enemy for two hours leading up to a finale where there are no heroes, just a thinly-justified slaughter. Maybe that's the point? But I wasn't convinced that the film was an essay on duty, resignation and combat-stress. It's having far too much fun playing soldiers to be thoughtful.
Despite all my moaning, I enjoyed Fury, I'm just not sure what the writer is trying to say with it…
It's pretty much the size of it, but the trailer doesn't indicate the film's pacing issues (for obvious reasons).
For the most part, but I wasn't feeling the emotion.
Personally, I don't think it does.
You'll get the most out of Fury by seeing it big and loud in the cinema.
Nope.
Probably, yes.
There is. I'd be amazed if there wasn't, frankly.
How are things coming along with that Wolfenstein movie? I'm getting impatient, here...
*1 Oh, and hello to Jason Isaacs.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
My heart sinks when I see the words 'Based on a true story'. It's usually reserved for sub-par horror movies and mid-afternoon made-for-TV melodramas. In the case of a historical drama, however, it's entirely forgivable. Particularly when the historical era in question was full of bent cops and machine guns...
It may be adapted from a novel, but Lawless feels like an absent-minded memoir. The whole film suffers from a meandering narrative that introduces characters, then forgets about them for half an hour or so while we focus on the minutiae of courting a preacher's daughter. Like listening to an old-timer telling a fascinating story about his youth but being constantly sidetracked by coincidental memories, it's as if it should make a good 12-part series, but too much has been lost in cutting it down to film-size (and yet, too much has also been left in).
Shia LaBeouf, Tom Hardy and Jason Clarke manage to just about rescue things as the Bondurant brothers, operating a moonshine business in the middle of the prohibition era. Guy Pearce overacts marvellously as Special Agent Rakes, determined to end their operation, and Gary Oldman is pretty much wasted as Floyd Banner, a gangster who is becoming the Bondurant's biggest customer. Everyone else is almost window-dressing, sadly, and when the story can't focus on those five characters for any length of time, the supporting cast stand no chance.
It's a real shame, because Lawless has the ingredients of a fine film; dry humour, likeable/hateable characters, moments of horrific violence, moments of genuine warmth. It looks fantastic, but it feels unfocused. With 30 minutes more than it needs, it ends up trying to cover too many bases, and comes out as merely good. With faster pacing and a tighter narrative, it could have been great.
Oh, and stop mumbling your fucking lines, you lot.
DISCLAIMERS: • ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
