Review: Babylon

Babylon
Cert: 18 / 189 mins / Dir. Damien Chazelle / Trailer

Roll-up roll-up then - if you will - for a sizzling period-piece epic from a celebrated, eclectic auteur of a film-maker; an arch, blistering love-letter to Hollywood starring Margot Robbie and Brad Pitt, where everything happens all the time for three hours but without a coherent central narrative. Again. Welcome indeed, to Babylon...

A sprawling tale of path-crossing and deal-making in the golden age of cinema, writer/director Damien Chazelle seems to have been at something of an impasse over what genre he wanted this to occupy, and has instead gone for 'as many as possible, please'. Comedy meets drama meets high-camp head on, and even horror waits to be found in Los Angeles' seedy underbelly.

WEAVING

Taking the concept of all-star casting to admirable levels, the film spends its time weaving between the intersecting lives of jaded heartthrob Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), rising starlet Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie) and aspiring producer Manuel Torres (Diego Calva). All the people they all meet over the next five years seem to be included here, played by a sea of familiar names and faces all happy to blag their 15 seconds onstage at this party. Beginning at the end of the silent-film era in 1926, Babylon's own excess earns that 18 certificate (no mean feat for a non-horror piece in 2022), some of it necessary for the story but most of it not.

To his absolute credit, Chazelle is a master of note-perfect, gloriously long takes, showing off not only the skill of his cast but also a tight reign over rehearsal and production discipline. One of the funniest segments centres around Nellie trying time after time to nail the perfect take of a very simple scene, channelling Alden Ehrenreich's turn in Hail Caesar but no less endearing for that. It's also one of the only parts of the film with any sense of form.

BOSS

Obviously Chazelle has merely created the illusion of 189 minutes of self-indulgent chaos, but that doesn't make the final product any more orderly (the lone title-card arrives over half an hour into the movie for approximately no reason). Visually sumptuous, technically stunning, narratively desolate and morally agnostic, this is a three hour Rorschach test; the cave on Dagobah, with glitter.

Packed to the rafters - again - with subtle references, direct references, themes and actual lifted plot points of his favourite film, I fear that if someone doesn't let Chazelle just remake Singin' In The Rain he may very well expire*¹, although ironically this is perhaps closer in overall tone to De Palma's Scarface. For clarity, none of it is overtly bad, in the same way that watching a kid play happily with all of their toys at once brings a smile to the face. But only one of you is actually having fun.

ICE ICE

On occasion, this film thinks it has something meaningful to say about artistic yearning and the darker side of showbusiness. It doesn't*². Babylon is mawkish and manipulative, full of straw-man arguments for hypothetical dinner parties, with Chazelle scripting as if he not only holds the answers but has also been the first to come up with the questions. As a result, this really is a film for audiences who think that explaining artifice is the same thing as telling truth.

And yeah, points are coming off because it ends with a greatest-hits reel of its own first act. Nailed-on celluloid onanism.

In his labour of cinematic love, Damien Chazelle may well have captured the very soul of tinseltown; Babylon is engaging, exciting, eviscerating, and even by the time the end-credits start to roll it means absolutely nothing...

Perhaps that's the real lesson.

*¹ Spoilers, highlight to read: Look, I'm as much of a fanboy of the Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly classic as everyone else in here - really, I am - but the first two and a half hours of Babylon are a hyperactive retooling of Singin' In The Rain, then the final 30 minutes are the main character literally sitting in a cinema and watching Singin' In The Rain and crying at all of the sequences that have been ham-fistedly referenced earlier. This might as well feature Chazelle walking past the bottom of the screen holding a placard which reads 'do you understand yet? It is this. I want to make this'.

Oh, and that meta-flash-forward at the end where Manuel imagines visions of iconic cinema yet to come, intercut with clips of the greatest films of all time (plus Avatar)? I notice you couldn't get the rights to Star Wars, Damien... [/End] ^{[ BACK ]}

*² For the record, I genuinely believe there are points to be made about art vs entertainment vs consumerism, the intersections between the three and when it is and isn't helpful to define them. And for the record I genuinely believe that this movie hits precisely none of those marks... ^{[ BACK ]}

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.

Review: Ad Astra

Ad Astra (Spoilers in the footnotes)
Cert: 12A / 123 mins / Dir. James Gray / Trailer



"Y'know what, Terry?" said the HR assistant at Space Command Headquarters as he mused over a crumbling Hob-Nob, "I'm starting to think that blasting emotionally repressed people with clearly unresolved family issues into the unflinching void of space could be what's causing our problems, rather than solving them...". Alas, this ponderous scene was cut from the final theatrical presentation of James Gray's Ad Astra. All the other ponderous scenes were left firmly attached, but let's hold out for a director's-cut reinstatement on the Blu-ray, yeah?

MISSION

So. Brad Pitt plays Roy McBride, a near-future astronaut specially selected for a mission to contact The Lima Project, an exploration vessel which disappeared decades earlier carrying his astronaut father Clifford (Tommy Lee Jones). Donald Sutherland turns up for ten minutes in an attempt to add gravitas to a largely gravity-free environment. Liv Tyler plays Brad's wife Mrs McBride*¹ who stays on Earth looking sad and out of focus.

For better or worse, Ad Astra is almost exactly The Space Film™ you think it's going to be. There are deliberate and repeated nods to the world of 2001 of course*², as well as tonal references to First Man, Interstellar, The Martian, The Black Hole, Armageddon and Gravity. Hell, there are even notes of Alien*³ and Total Recall in this. All I'm saying is that since Brad has to go on a secret mission to Mars with overtones of conspiracy theory and unexpected combat, why not just make this a Doom sequel and have done with it*⁴?

SISTERS

While there's some stunning cinematography*⁵, the film spends so much time gazing out of the window and stroking its chin that it hopes the cracks in the story won't be visible*⁶. Those don't matter when held up to the emotional core of the film, but even that substance itself is slight given the wasted potential of the acting talent on board. The screenplay is not afraid to ask questions, but doesn't really have the vocabulary to ask them clearly, so no satisfying answers are forthcoming.

Ad Astra feels very on-the-nose and offers little that audiences won't have enjoyed elsewhere. That said, the film looks outstanding and is sure to be worth the uplift of an IMAX ticket. Only you can decide if that's a mission worth accepting...

Well I think we've covered that.



For the visuals, yes.



This is going to lose a lot on its way to the small screen (even if your telly's huge).



No.



Yes.



No.



Level 2: Liv Tyler is in this (just about), and she was in that Lord Of The Rings alongside Christopher 'Dooku' Lee and Andy 'Snoke' Serkis and Elijah 'Rucklin' Wood.





*¹ We don't hear her character say much but Liv is seen swigging from a 2-litre bottle of Irn Bru at one point, so it's safe to assume her name literally means "Scottish Wife". A disappointing lack of imagination, there. ^{[ BACK ]}

*² Although speaking of in-universe continuity, I haven't seen Space Cowboys but I know Tommy Lee Jones and Donald Sutherland are in that so I'm just assuming this is part of the same cinematic universe. Do not @ me to say Tommy or Donald die in that film or somesuch so that can't be the case, my mind is made up. I am still not going to watch Space Cowboys either way. ^{[ BACK ]}

*³ And it turns out Tommy Lee Jones was the monster all along! Gnawing his way through the scenery like an acid-bleeding Xenomorph to the barely concealed horror of anyone trapped in a room with him. You can dial it down mate, this isn't Event Horizon... ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁴ Angry Space Baboon™? FUCK YES. ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁵ Although there's so much lens-flare here that I expected to see JJ Abrams' Enterprise edging into the frame at any moment.
^{[ BACK ]}

*⁶ Why does Brad need to travel to Mars in the first place, though? They tell him it's so they can broadcast a clear signal out to the edge of the solar system, but they only send an audio recording. He could have made an mp3 on Earth and e-mailed that over to Mars for them to forward. I know they then try to detain Brad afterwards, but they could have just done that on Earth and saved the petrol. Who's in charge at Space Command? No wonder they're in trouble.

Also, what has Tommy Lee Jones been eating and drinking on that ship for the last three decades? It's not big enough to have its own garden or eco-system, and he'd be dead from vitamin deficiency if he'd tried to survive on packaged rations. Less of the science more of the fiction, I think. Which I suppose is fine, but y'know... ^{[ BACK ]}


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.

Review: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (second-pass)

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (second-pass / SPOILERS)
Cert: 18 / 161 mins / Dir. Quentin Tarantino / Trailer


Ah, okay. I get it now. All it took was a second viewing of Quentin Tarantino’s ninth movie, and the knowledge that this really is about enjoying the ride because while there is a destination it’s one that’s brought about by external forces and the calendar, rather than any internal plot devices. Fair warning, the review which follows is rambly, unfocused and full of sidelines. But if that’s good enough for Quentin…

After taking in the movie when it opened, writing a slightly disgruntled review and letting that sit for a few days, I began to read other articles on Hollywood. More than I normally would for flicks I hadn’t enjoyed, because I wanted to know what I’d missed that everyone else seemed to love so much. And for the very most part, the pieces I read didn’t fill in any particular gaps for me. They just reiterated the list of reasons I’d been dissatisfied, albeit in glowing terms.

COMMUNITY

Because even among the critics’ community, the most perfunctory points here are open to interpretation. One take notes that while Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate introduces herself at the cinema box office, she watches The Wrecking Crew incognito to soak up the audience reaction. No mate, she puts on those massive glasses to emulate her character on-screen, looking around at the audience every time ‘Miss Carlson’ gets a laugh from them. She’s trying to be recognised, that’s why she went out of her way to be noticed at the box office - no one in Hollywood knows who the hell Sharon Tate is yet. Her actual claim-to-fame came at the hands of the Manson family - something Tarantino throws in the bin as he gives the actress the Happy Ever After she was denied in our reality. A gift from a film-maker who bleeds celluloid and lives for the micro-detail of every performance he sees in every in every B-movie and supporting feature. I got that the second time. The first, I was just wondering where all this was leading.

Elsewhere, some are saying that the brutal fight finale is "classic Tarantino". It’s not. It’s far closer to something that his buddy Robert Rodriguez would do. While it’s true that Death Proof has some nasty moments, it’s Rodriguez’s flip-side movie Planet Terror that’s the really gory flick - and so is the scrap at the end of Hollywood. Truth be told, it can barely even be called a fight in the interactive sense, more the tonally justified slaughter of three absolute wrong’uns.

DEVELOPMENT

And those are two tiny details to pick up on, but that’s what Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is; a lengthy string of tiny details, the minutiae of mundane lives being lived in an unorthodox business in a town famous for creating non-reality. The phrase ‘love letter’ has been flogged to death in reviews for this movie (yeah, even by me), but it’s as much a series of winks to QT’s own career as anyone else’s*¹.

And yet he eschews the traditional format of cinematic storytelling. The first 25 minutes of a movie are usually used to establish characters and motivations. Here that lasts for two hours. The second act will be the part where those characters run up against an obstacle which will need to be resolved before the story can end. In Hollywood we get a caption-card that reads "6 months later". Tarantino is openly telling us that the events of 8 August 1969 have precisely nothing to do with anything that happened in the previous half year. It’s just that here they involve characters who’d been moving in and out of each other’s circles back in February. And as for the third act resolution? Well here it’s more Clint Booth meeting some barely-remembered faces from the past and everyone else meeting for the first time.

That disregarding of structure bothered the hell out of me the first time I watched this. And to a certain degree it still does and probably always will.

MY NAME IS EARL

While the ‘Once Upon A Time’ in the title implies that a tale is about to unfold which isn’t beholden to historical reality, it also creates the expectation that the audience is about to be told a story - ie something with a firm structure and a roadmap - rather than just trailing along behind characters for a few days. And while there are things to look at along the way, that’s not the same as telling a story. This movie is acted, shot and cut beautifully*². My initial problem was that nothing is happening. A second viewing excuses yet underlines this in equal measure.

Throughout Tarantino’s career, there’s been a secondary level upon which his films can be enjoyed. Not always a subtext in the regular sense, but something which, upon second, third or hundredth viewing, a viewer can dig and try to figure out what Quentin was channeling when he put the scenes together. Wondering what was going on his his mind, in addition to the main plot structure (ie the heist, the con, surviving the night or maybe just trying to assassinate Hitler). The problem facing more casual audiences here (hell, me included) is that Hollywood exists almost entirely on this other level. The main ’what’s driving the story’ element doesn’t exist*³. Stuff just happens because it happens*⁴. And while that’s arguably true for the likes of Pulp Fiction, that movie at least had intersecting and cyclical motifs matched with a tight pacing. Hollywood doesn’t.

As much as I enjoyed this the second time round (and I did), I still stand by every one of my niggles from the first. I’ve long maintained that you should be able to get something new out of seeing a film again, that’s why I do second-pass reviews and beyond. Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is a prime example of how and why that re-evaluation is possible.

Although by the same token, I don’t think you should have to watch any movie twice to enjoy it once. But here we are…

Well, that’s the question isn’t it?
What have you seen that’s like this?



It is, with a certain amount of caution.



It is.



Yeah let’s not go mad, okay?



Even though I’ve now changed my mind re-ordered my opinions on this, still yes.



There is.



Level 1: The voice of Cad Bane is in this.



I don’t normally change scores between viewings, but I’m happy to make an exception here. While this and my previous review are obviously subjective (as every review is), I obviously couldn’t go so far as to say the film is badly made. But there are aspects of it which I did not enjoy, and that is a fact. Appreciation is one thing, but it’s not everything. And that’s more what the number is in this case. Not how ‘good’ I think the movie is, more how it made me feel. Last time it was a frustrating 4, this time it was a 6.

My own change of heart certainly makes me wonder what the long-term response to this movie will be, and how much expectation will be placed upon QT’s tenth (and allegedly final) film…


*¹ In no particular order: the aerial shot of the Pan-Am plane is a throwback to Kill Bill, Funky Fanfare from QT’s Grindhouse days plays at the drive-in next to Clint Booth’s caravan, the airport interior is a nod to Jackie Brown’s opening sequence, the saloon section is an obvious reference to Django Unchained and the ‘Die You Nazi Bastards’ scene likewise tips its hat to Inglourious Basterds. And unless I’m very much mistaken, the crossroads at which Clint Booth is waiting when he sees Pussycat for the first time is the one from Pulp Fiction where Butch runs into Marsellus Wallace. But I’m going to have to wait for the Blu-ray to confirm that one, because I’m not downloading a bootleg just to do a side-by-side, okay? ^{[ BACK ]}

*² The sequence in the shack at the Spahn Movie Ranch is camp perfection in itself. The undeniable tension as the wildcard ’Squeaky’ sits slumped in front of the TV. Clint padding around the old dilapidated house holding unknown dangers, the feint of a false climax, the music from the suspense show becoming the scene’s diegetic soundtrack. Wall-to-wall gorgeous. It’s just a shame that it’s not actually needed because there’s no story for this to fit into. ^{[ BACK ]}

*³ Even though there’s a lot of literal driving around in this movie. And it’s not aimless, ‘take in the scenery’ driving, but it’s not plot specific A-B driving either. It’s mostly the characters on domestic journeys like going to work or running errands. And y’know that’s fine but Quentin, mate, I’m not going to let this one go: nothing happens in this movie until the end. ^{[ BACK ]}

*⁴ Or, to be more cynical about the whole thing, Rick Dalton needs to have a conversation about a flamethrower early on to explain away the fact that he’s got a working flamethrower in the house for the finale. Likewise, Clint Booth needs to be shown as a skilled stuntman to explain the fact that he’s instinctively competent at combat and self-preservation even when he’s off his face on acid, and he needs to be on acid to explain away the utter brutality with which he smashes his assailant’s face off every damned surface in the living room. It’s almost - almost - as if the movie’s climax was written first and the whole thing was ret-conned from there. That said, if QT has fully shot any of the TV episodes we see clips of or produced amended episodes of the ones he’s altered, and if any of those are squirrelled away on the Blu-ray extras for the movie, all will be forgiven… ^{[ BACK ]}




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.

Review: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood
Cert: 18 / 161 mins / Dir. Quentin Tarantino / Trailer


I'll cut to the chase, the jury at Blackout Towers is out on this one. It's not that Once Upon A Time In Hollywood failed to meet my expectations - I didn't really have any expectations. While I'm definitely a fan of Quentin Tarantino's work to the point of being forgiving of his worst excesses, I was impressed that the trailer is a kaleidoscope of cool which reveals very little of the actual story. It's only after watching the movie that I realise that's because there is no coherent story.

Quentin sets up his core characters, then just sort of bimbles along aimlessly, going off on lengthy tangents which add to the character-building but do almost nothing for the narrative. You remember when Tarantino was famous for driven pacing and snappy dialogue? Well those days are long gone, mate. This begins languidly where each scene is around 30% longer than it needs to be, and pretty much keeps that up for the entire movie. Meticulous yet thoroughly unfocused, this is the absolutely unfiltered Tarantino of 2019, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Self-indulgent as absolute fuck, even by his standards.

WESTERN

There's an entire, lengthy saloon-scene where actor Rick Dalton is filming a western, which might be more quirkily entertaining if Quentin hadn't already made Django Unchained and The Hateful Eight. Has he still not gotten spit-and-sawdust out of his system? But there are too many unanswered questions elsewhere. A sporadic narration comes from Kurt Russell. But he's also in the film as a big-shot director. Is it supposed to be his character who's narrating this? Why? How would his character know of events which went otherwise unwitnessed? Wasn't the whole "once upon a time means it's a fairytale and I can subvert your expectations from real-world events" used up on Inglourious Basterds?

Why have big names like Al Pacino and Bruce Dern been hired for a cameo roles which add nothing to the final movie? Why has Leonardo DiCaprio been edited into The Great Escape for a cutaway scene, but Margot Robbie hasn't been given the same digital treatment in The Wrecking Crew when she's playing the actress Sharon Tate watching Sharon Tate in a film? Because the Sharon Tate in those clips is clearly not Margot Robbie, so why put them in at all? I know that ultimately the film is a tribute to her, but it's glaringly noticeable that she's not watching herself. Why am I even thinking about these things when I'm meant to be enjoying a movie by a director I love?

IN SHOW

Don't get me wrong, there are some great things in this, I just don't think it's a great movie. I definitely had that dissatisfied feeling leaving the auditorium where I'd apparently been waiting for something that Quentin wasn't going to deliver. Because while the climactic fight is inordinately, gleefully, brutally good fun, the actual narrative payoff afterward feels like a weak punchline that doesn't support the grandiose, bar-room, shaggy dog story which went before it. It turns out the journey was more important than the destination, but you weren't able to focus on that because the driver had been rabbiting on for the entire journey.

This is Guy Ritchie giving us Revolver, James Cameron's Avatar, Spielberg with Ready Player One. It's not devoid of merit, but by no means what Quentin is best at - and this has happened because there's now nobody to tell him 'no'. The bottom line is that if any other writer/director had made Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, I'd be calling it out as a rambling, first-draft mood-board. In fact I still am. Because since each movie ultimately has to stand on its own merits, where does that leave this? But now I know what to expect, another viewing is called for, that's for sure.

All I'm saying is that it's coming to something when Drew Goddard is making better Quentin Tarantino films than Quentin Tarantino…

Honestly? I have no idea.



Probably, yes.

Although I could feel the casual-audience around me growing increasingly restless and fidgety throughout.



I know I'll be adding this to The Collection either way, although I may well wait until the price has dropped to something more reasonable.



At this point, I genuinely don't believe it is.



Oh yes.



There is, it's in the first scene and it's absolutely textbook.



Level 1: The voice of Clone Wars Count Dooku is in this.



^^ This may be subject to change after the next viewing.




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.

Review: Allied

Allied
Cert: 15 / 124 mins / Dir. Robert Zemeckis / Trailer



Ah, that awkward feeling when you realise you're watching Marion Cotillard being outstanding in a film which is only quite good. If anything, it reflects quite badly on director Robert Zemeckis that an actress who was probably pregnant for a lot of her scenes was the one required to do all the heavy lifting. But I'm getting ahead of myself…

Morocco, 1942. Canadian allied-forces spy Max Vatan is airdropped outside of Casablanca*¹ and instructed to meet fellow operative Marianne Beausejour. Posing as a married couple, they are to carry out an assassination of a high-ranking Nazi official. After completing their mission (that's in the trailer, it's not a spoiler), they relocate to London and marry while Max continues working for the Ministry of Defence. But when his superiors have reason to believe that Marianne is a German spy filtering information back to the Fatherland, Max has to ask himself how deep her cover really is, and if he even knows the real Marianne at all…

An odd recipe this, putting Mr Pitt of 'no fixed genre' with thespic heavyweight Cotillard, written by Steven Knight (of Eastern Promises' parish) and directed by Robert 'Back To The Future' Zemeckis. And that list of primary ingredients is as uneven as the film which comes out of the cinematic oven after two hours.

Ultimately, Allied doesn't seem to know what it wants to be, be it a tense espionage thriller or angst-ridden romantic drama. As a result the film ends up convincing as neither, although it is quite a lot of fun in the meanwhile. The action set-pieces are nicely executed, as is the overall sense of creeping tension. Pitt seems to struggle when he's required to show emotion (although I can't tell how much of that is his perma-spy character not wanting to show his true colours), whereas Cotillard more than makes up for it with a performance which is far too subtle for a film like this. While each scene moves the story in the right direction, the film is baggy at just over two hours, often feeling like it's stalling the audience. Elsewhere there's some neat cinematography in the Casablanca section of the film (even if much of it screams 'soundstage'), and the damp, muted colour-palette of London complements it perfectly. We've also got long-time Zemeckis cohort Alan Silvestri on scoring duties, routinely playing his game of 'hide the BTTF opening-line' where everyone can hear it. Bless him.

The other awkward feeling comes in the film's closing moments, when a quiet, reflective coda suggests that the audience have been watching something emotionally engaging rather than just quite entertaining. For all the ducking, shooting, whispering and shouting though, the relationship at the centre of the film just didn't convince me. And that is supposed to be the point of the film.

I want to score Allied more highly, because it is enjoyable. But I know for a fact that in about a week, I won't remember a thing about it…

Well, it wants to be Inglourious Basterds with a heart, but it ends up more like Mr & Mrs Smith with a grimace.



As much fun as it is, there's nothing inherently cinematic about it, unfortunately.



Judging by the last few minutes?
Apparently not.



It's not.



I won't.



There is.
First firearm-related casualty of the movie.
Textbook stuff.



Level 2: This film stars messrs Brad Pitt and August Diehl, both of whom rocked up in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds, a movie which featured a voice-over from Sam Windu Jackson.

I mean seriously, who casts Pitt and Diehl in a WWII thriller together again? Mind you, Daniel Betts is in this, and he starred with Pitt in Fury, another WWII drama. Thinking about it, the problem could just be Brad Pitt…





*¹ Bear in mind, the film Casablanca wasn't released until 1942. This film is set in 1942. At the time it came out, it was another run-of-the-mill, quick-turnaround drama; well-received an'all, but it didn't gain its iconic status until years later. I only mention it because that line in the trailer where Marianne's like "You'll go on the roof. In Casablanca, that's where men go…" is a trope she wheels out every three minutes or so. Like there's something really special about this Nazi-occupied city that all the others in mainland Europe haven't got. "In Casablanca, we don't drive slowly" / "In Casablanca, men don't kiss their wives with their top shirt-buttons undone" / "In Casablanca, we start with the cutlery from the outside but we use the steak-knife to butter the bread". I genuinely expected Max to stop and yell "Oh, are we in Casablanca? I WISH YOU'D SAID SOMETHING EARLIER, I'VE DRESSED FOR CROYDON!"…


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.

Review: The Big Short

The Big Short
Cert: 15 / 130 mins / Dir. Adam McKay / Trailer



Okay, I actually have plenty of notes and observations from watching Adam McKay's The Big Short, but it occurs to me that they're all largely redundant for one reason: it's pretty difficult to effectively critique a film that you didn't really understand. And please believe me, I'm not being cooly self-deprecating when I tell you that I went to watch a movie about the 2008 financial collapse*¹, and came out knowing pretty much the same amount as when I went in. Which isn't that much. And it's not like the mechanics of the central conceit aren't explained to the audience, directly and on several occasions. The main problem with this movie was sitting in seat E5…

Y'see, for all its no-nonsense, straight-talking style, there's still a layer of smugness lightly draped over the whole thing, as you're assured by a character that it's supposed to be bafflingly complex while he metaphorically winks at you and whispers "…but you get it, right?". Even half the characters still didn't understand it by the end of the film, and they'd been party to the same information as the audience had. And they work in finance, so I had no chance. As (intentionally) erratic as the performances are, it felt a little like watching an episode of Hustle, but where you know how it's going to end, there's no 'reveal' and you can't bring yourself to like anyone.

And then at one point, Christian Bale's character is explaining that he's got a glass-eye while moving both of his eyes, so then I'm sat thinking 'is that even possible?' and a bit of Googling later tells me that in some cases where the surrounding muscles haven't been damaged, yes it is possible, but I had enough on my bloody plate without throwing that into the mix, as well. But I was able to instantly name the Metallica tracks he listened to, so that made me feel good about myself for a few, brief seconds. I imagine that was the point.

But yeah, The Big Short probably quite good, I guess?
Don't ask me, I wouldn't know.

The Wolf Of Wall Street, I guess?.



The documentary-style camerawork and fast-cuts mean that you'll probably end up with a headache if you watch the film on a cinema-sized screen.



I HAVE NO IDEA.



Even accounting for my density, probably not.



I can't imagine so.



There isn't.



Level 2: The film features a brief appearance by Margot Robbie, who starred in About Time alongside Domhnall 'Hux' Gleeson.







*¹ A collapse whose effects saw the company I worked for at the time effectively dissolve leaving me unemployed, so it's not like I have no interest in the subject.

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.