It’s the summertime and it shines always bright for LGBT Pride month. All the cities get loud and proud regardless of all the hatred from their archrivals, Christian fundamentalists, and today, they are being threatened at all levels. Pride parades are very important to have in the face of discrimination. A lot of movies and TV shows also feature a lot of gay-positive stories and characters today, far from the lack of storylines in the past. A number of them from the past are also very underrated and don’t get recognized as much as other classics. Here are a few that also deserve its recognition as a great LGBT film.
Bound (1996)
In the first film by The Wachowskis, they went with an erotic noir following a female ex-con (Gina Gershon) who seduces a mobster’s girlfriend (Jennifer Tilly) and they plan together to heist millions from them. Also starring Joe Pantoliano, John Ryan, and Christopher Meloni pre-Law & Order: SVU days; the Wachowskis were able to make this on a tight budget with its strong lesbian themes and not be the drive force to the story. It was only their second credited work after Assassins, and from there, they would make The Matrix – an allegory to their identity as transgender women many years later.
In & Out (1997)
Tom Hanks’ acceptance speech at the Oscars for his performance in Philadelphia inspired Frank Oz’s comedy about a teacher (Kevin Kline) who is engaged, only to see a former student (Matt Dillon) win an Oscar and inadvertently outs him. Joan Cusack received an Oscar nomination as the suddenly-jilted fiancee; Tom Selleck plays a reporter who seeks the backstory and gives his support while the teacher tries to prove that he is straight, but it proves to be difficult to do. It was one of the first mainstream Hollywood gay comedies and handles the subject without the sex and low blow jokes.
Kinky Boots (2005)
Most will know about the Tony Award-winning musical of this title, but that comes from the original film, which itself is based on a true story. Facing bankruptcy, a shoe factory owner finds a new product to make for an unexpected clientele: boots for drag queens. Joel Edgerton plays the young factory manager who comes up with the dramatic idea to save his business. Chiwetel Ejiofor is the leading drag queen who has to deal with racism and homophobia from the workers who are uncomfortable with his presence. It’s a really charming film and not the only British, true story-based movie on the list.
Pride (2014)
Of course, a film called Pride was going to be there. It is this historical dramedy about a group of activists who form an unlikely partnership to support a major strike by coal miners. The path to their acceptance is tense though, as the miners want nothing to do with them during the opening years of the AIDS pandemic in Britain where homophobia is rife. Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton, Andrew Scott, Dominic West, and Ben Schenetzer are part of an ensemble that connects the generations through a noble cause and a community of outcasts that proves themselves to be relatable.
BPM (Beats Per Minute) (2017)
Director Robin Campillo used his experience as part of the militant AIDS advocacy group ACT UP as the basis of this electrifying movie which won the Grand Prix at Cannes. As the number of dead rises and the struggle for proper treatment from the government staggers on, the group continues to protest in various ways, even creating chaos on the ground that causes friction and questioning if it is working. Within the drama, a romance blossoms between an outspoken HIV-positive young man and a shy newcomer, even as it becomes obvious they will be short on time together. It’s passionate, it’s fierce, and it is exhilarating to see a heart-pounding story.
Despite what may be perceived now as hokey special effects or over the top, low budget fare, these science fiction parables from the seventies era provide intriguing commentary then and now.
Crimes of the Future
Not to be confused with David Cronenberg’s recent, unrelated Crimes of the Future, this 1970 short and its nil budget dystopian bizarre with poor pacing and structural flaws is not for everyone. Fortunately, the silence, slow movement, and stillness match the 1997 concrete, fallen industrialized affluence, and empty isolation. An androgynous cleric clad in black provides an unreliable, detached report on how a cosmetics plague has killed all the women and led to increasing gender and social changes. Red nail polish worn on the left hand or painted toe nails decide who is mugged, beaten, or allowed to consume the “chocolate” secreted by “special” men since there are no women. Repetitive sorting socks or underwear scenes reflect a perverted ritual collection while barefoot and white gloved pedophiles have disturbing secret meetings. Distorted sounds and an in limbo atmosphere create unease as the repression escalates to wicked violence, child trafficking, and terrible sexual deviance all seemingly justified as an attempt to find a cure. It would be fascinating to see Cronenberg redo this as a full bodied film today. Venereal disease references, biological differences, and veiled statements on institutionalizing homosexuals for “therapy” are ahead of their time, and the ironic title belies an upsetting real world horror finale.
Quintet
A solitary, bearded, and bundled Paul Newman (The Hustler) leads this icy, desolate 1979 tale of a snowbound civilization where birds are rare, seal hunting is scarce, and trees are memories. Information is lost and no one is really sure how many years it has been as echoes, broken glass, icicles, and dangerous crackling sounds accent the ruined photos and damaged crystal chandeliers. Despite his chilled exterior, Newman’s Essex isn’t unfeeling. However, he has a list of names due revenge and the killings must play out within the high stakes Quintet rules. The mysterious sixth man in a five player game adds an interesting confusion to the high brow competition, and viewers must pay attention to the one man chess amid coercion, explosions, Latin oaths, slit throats, and assumed identities. Prowling dogs, frozen carcasses, and on location filming at the abandoned Montreal Expo create realism, and the titular pentagon shaped symbolism dominates the futuristic furniture and decor. Although frosted glass and mirrors help hide the small scale production’s cut corners, director Robert Altman’s (The Long Goodbye) Vaseline framed camera lens is too noticeable today as is the stilted start and plodding runtime. At times, the game concepts fall flat and the try hard cult-like tournament mentality doesn’t quite come across. Thankfully, the desperate, nothing left to do but kill pointlessness hits home. Tense shocks and insensitive deceptions accent the cerebral tone as the intriguing melancholy escalates in the final act. This somber, life imitating art statement is eerily prophetic in the notion of games and movies becoming social reality obsessions.
Saturn 3
Underground Titan bases, a twenty-two day eclipse, cut off communication, and evil robots spell doom for Kirk Douglas (Spartacus), Farrah Fawcett (Charlie’s Angels), and Harvey Keitel (Mean Streets) in this 1980 British tale. Certain unnecessary set pieces obviously influenced by Star Wars could have been excised to leave the isolated supply run’s ulterior intentions unknown. Weird scene transitions and erroneously epic music also try hard as uneven, commonplace machine chases are placed above the intriguing personal elements. Choppy editing reveals the behind the scenes troubles before an apparent twist and meandering action underestimate the audience and pad the final twenty minutes. Thankfully, the hydroponics lab is cool with artificially blue tinted water and green lit plants for our couple who has never been to earth, gone outside, or breathed real air. Unfortunately, chess with their machine leads to ominous device sounds and sinister spying while conversations in the shower, sheer robes, nudity, sex, and drug experimentation stir the pot between our older gent, his younger woman, and the newcomer blunt about his desire. Eerie, self re-assembling, advanced, demigod robots intend to replace the once idyllic and now obsolete couple amid symbolic jacking in interfaces, blasting hoses, and heads sliding into the robot cavity. Scary injuries and creepy surgeries create tension alongside arguments, violent tendencies, and foolish attempts to think one can control the intelligent machinery. Though flawed in not focusing on the taut science fiction triangle; references to Hector, Troy, and the original fight over a woman accent the man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself conflicts.
Westworld
Androids run amok in this 1973 sci-fi western written and directed by Michael Crichton (Coma). Crichton’s debut direction is simplistic with of the time slow motion and aimless running to and fro amid preposterous logistics and safety ignorance. Then-futuristic empty white sets and technobabble gibberish are filler alongside big computer wows and now unnecessary pixelated robot viewpoints. The colorful saloon facades, medieval games, and Roman hedonism don’t look that bad considering the paltry million dollar budget, however modern viewers will probably expect more from the catastrophic resort meltdown than a one on one pursuit and abrupt finale. Fortunately, there are mechanical malfunctions, shootouts, feastings, brothels, and bar fights a plenty. Guns, swords, and sex robots add to the cool for James Brolin (Skyjacked) as we fear the gloriously unyielding, Terminator-esque, gunslinger in black Yul Brynner (The King and I). This is the ultimate vacation where man has his decadent and violent desires fulfilled, but it’s all controlled by technicians behind the scenes who eat while they watch the depravity unfold. Guests sleep unaware as suspicious, misbehaving man made machines reset the excess. Are these possibly sentient androids fed up with human seductions and taking matters into their own hands for one destructive hurrah before their batteries fail? Though at times the potential is undercooked, the western meets SF peril provides enough food for thought.
Zardoz
Ruffian Sean Connery (Goldfinger) upsets the hedonist future in this 1974 international production directed by John Boorman (Excalibur) brimming with 2293 post-apocalyptic horseback warriors and a surreal floating head spewing ammunition from its giant mouth. Immortals playing god tell Exterminators to kill the lesser Brutals with guns is good and penis is evil mantras, and understandably the population control allegories can get lost in the often laughable flying head, psychedelic crystals, and giant green pretzels. The overlong, trippy seventies production shows its limitations with goofy happenings, saucy vignettes, and intercut montages strung together via psychic induced strokes and an immortal vortex with a cool decoder ring. Our flying head cruises to the quaint English countryside with relics of the past where jealous women and fey men disturbed by Connery’s masculinity rely on an advanced computer intelligence before being so idle they become catatonic. Trials where the penalty is aging and realizations that what you’ve been led to believe is now the corruption you were trying to prevent provide intriguing nuggets, truth will outs, and revenge. Despite a rushed action finale, man shooting at himself in the mirror to destroy his fallible god and high concepts such as artificial intelligence, cloning, reverse eugenics, and euthanasia overcome the silly design. Modern viewers have to laugh at the ridiculous deus ex machina wizards and nonsensical screaming yet this deserves to be watched more than once for the Tree of Knowledge osmosis, jacking into their matrix insights, and snake in the garden sex making man both savior and destruction.
Director: Wes Anderson Writers: Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola Stars: Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks
Synopsis: The itinerary of a Junior Stargazer convention is spectacularly disrupted by world-changing events.
The “filmmaker vs. author” debate has always been one of the most snobbish, elitist discussions in the world of cinema. Personally, I avoid at all costs using the second term, simply because it’s more often used as an attempt to belittle other directors than to boost those who supposedly deserve that label. That said, Wes Anderson possesses what all filmmakers desire – or should desire – to achieve: an unquestionably unique style that any cinephile can recognize through a single frame. Whether people appreciate the writer-director or not, no year goes by where one of his movies isn’t one of the most anticipated. Well then, here comes Asteroid City…
Wes Anderson makes it difficult for viewers to be surprised. The qualities and flaws of his films, especially on the technical side, are practically the same, movie after movie. The filmmaker usually works with the same people in the various technical departments, and Asteroid City is no exception to this rule, with Adam Stockhausen (production designer), Robert Yeoman (cinematographer), and Alexander Desplat (composer) being the most common colleagues throughout his career. His way of telling stories through deadpan dialogue and humor – a deliberate display of neutral or null emotion – remains an essential feature of his narratives.
Starting precisely with this last aspect, Wes Anderson is, by far, the filmmaker who best manages to transform the ridiculous, absurd, and surreal into something more accessible to the general audience. Even if a film is purposely devoid of emotion, it’s not always easy to feel captivated by the narrative or the characters, much less create an emotional connection with them. In the case of Asteroid City and many of the filmmaker’s other movies, the loaded cast with dozens of A-listers and its appealing visual aesthetic help grab viewers’ attention.
On the other side of the coin, the narrative randomness and the lack of a more cohesive, coherent main plot, in addition to the rarely emotive scenes, contribute to the estrangement of the audience. However, perhaps due to a simpler and more direct premise, as well as more impressive performances, Asteroid City offers a lighter, more enjoyable viewing than The French Dispatch, also due to deadpan being better executed and performed, especially in the area of comedy. The rapid-fire, extremely complex dialogues and monologues – tons of words in a few seconds – are truly mesmerizing and demonstrate the pure talent of some actors – Jeffrey Wright is exceptional in this regard.
Utilizing Bryan Cranston as an excellent narrator, the screenplay of Asteroid City contains a story within a story. Edward Norton plays a screenwriter preparing his next play, and viewers follow his process throughout the film with occasional interruptions and transitions, but the main plot is the actual representation of that same play on the big screen. Wes Anderson even divides his movie into acts and respective scenes, explicitly displaying this information with title cards, helping viewers to navigate the several storylines.
Deep down, the “primary narrative” is nothing more than a mere connecting device between the diverse mini-stories that take place in certain parts of the city with a particular group of characters. Some have more screen time than others, but there’s not exactly a typical pair of protagonists. The closest to this “status” would be Jason Schwartzman and Scarlett Johansson. The actors mostly share the spotlight, with the former having another role on the “real” side, along with Norton.
Regarding the performances, my personal standout has to be Maya Hawke. The young actress plays a teacher responsible for her class’s field trip to Asteroid City, having greater expressive and emotional freedom, as well as some of the funniest sequences in the entire film – Rupert Friend also has merit here. Steve Carell exudes all his charisma as a motel manager. All the others are expectedly phenomenal, understanding the director’s intentions perfectly by delivering stoic performances, even if some are just cameos with a single line or a scene.
As expected, not all groups of characters have an interesting narrative. Viewers will feel more intrigued by some mini-stories than others, but everyone partially suffers from the lack of something more thematic. Asteroid City is indeed quite random, and despite much of this being the filmmaker’s purpose, there are times when it seems that it’s the audience that has to make an effort to enjoy the movie rather than the latter winning over the viewers. The only exception would be the tragic past of a grieving family, but it’s extremely difficult to address a topic as sensitive and inherently emotional as the death of a loved one when it’s not “allowed” to display any kind of sentimental expression or conversation.
Technically, there are no doubts surrounding the inevitable nominations for production design and cinematography, with editing, costume design, and make-up also being worthy of awards. It’s genuinely fascinating to observe the stunningly built sets, the lovely color palette, and the exquisite camera panning right-to-left and up-and-down. Still, it’s Desplat’s score that took me by surprise. Asteroid City benefits immensely from the composer’s background music, which fits like a glove into the city’s astronomic, desert environment, adding a nice layer of fun on top of the deadpan humor.
For fans of Wes Anderson, Asteroid City doesn’t disappoint, offering exactly what was expected from it. For viewers who don’t exactly appreciate the filmmaker’s style, I don’t think this film will convert you. Personally, it’s nowhere near the level of The Grand Budapest Hotel, but it’s a considerable improvement over The French Dispatch.
Director: John Slattery Writers: Paul Bernbaum Stars: Jon Hamm, Louisa Krause, Tina Fey
Synopsis: Police Chief Sanders investigates the bizarre murders of two women with the same name and unravels a web of small-town lies. He meets and quickly falls for Rita, a nosy neighbor who is eager to help solve the mystery.
Films like Maggie Moore(s) rely on style over substance and, hopefully, a story and dialogue reminiscent of a great Elmore Leonard noir. Directed by Mad Men’s alum John Slattery, his second feature film behind the camera since God’s Pocket is a throwback to those ’90s crime films which the website CrimeReads called “The Leonardssance.” A movie that has an ear for snappy dialogue, how people really talk (mostly), quirky characters, satisfying crimes, and a killer villain. If only Slattery and the script by Paul Bernbaum left the listless romance at the deli counter.
The story follows a local police chief Jordan Sanders (Jon Hamm), who oversees the service and protection of the residents of a small, desert New Mexico town. It’s a quiet town where most adult characters seem to be searching for happiness in their mundane lives. That includes the police chief, who lost his wife recently to cancer and takes a night class to explore the power of creative writing, being fodder for divorced single women in the area. However, his job is about to get a lot more interesting, as not one but two women turn up dead, both with the same name.
Those are Maggie Moore, the only two women with that moniker. Bernbaum’s script is clever, playing with the timeline in the first act. One of the women (Louisa Krause) is the bitterly unhappy wife of Jay (Micah Stock), who is floundering in debt, trying to keep his sandwich shop open and pay for his wife’s psychiatry bills. To help make ends meet, he violates his franchise agreement by buying expired deli meats and cheeses at a discount from Tommy T (Derek Brasco) in exchange for being his mule for illegal packages. Jay soon discovers that the packages include filthy pictures of underage girls and Tommy is a known sex offender. Jay’s wife finds the envelope and plans on using it to take everything he owns.
Jay and Maggie’s neighbor is Rita (Tina Fey), the nosy type who watches them from her window, doesn’t have any friends, and is still dealing with the breakup of an abusive boyfriend. She is the last to see Maggie alive and soon develops a friendship with Sanders during the investigation. This pleases Sanders’s partner, Deputy Reddy, who thinks his boss needs to stop looking for an emotional connection and find a physical one. Together, they investigate links to the two cases in a desert full of lies, contract killers, and lonely souls to solve the mystery tailor-made for Keith Morrison.
You may find Maggie Moore(s) a tough initial watch, as the thought of a queasy mix of talking about a pedophile and pictures of rotting lunch meat makes for a revolting introduction. However, as the story progresses, the fascinating plot begins to top itself as the timeline takes shape, and the killers keep doubling down at the risk of exposure in covering up their actions. Part of the fun is watching Jay, played by Stock, continue to unravel. Stock has a natural talent for juggling subtle comedic levity and anxiety-filled tension, a mix of painfully funny and awkward moments unique to actor, writer, and director Jim Cummings.
What Slattery does so well is to maintain a seamless tone, even when the story shifts to Hamm and Fey’s characters developing a rapport. While the other character relationships have quick, quippy dialogue, andyou may feel the script could use a little more restraint, I couldn’t help but think that Rita and Jacob needed a little more quirk and heat in their interactions or even a dark secret or two. Their relationship feels like it was expanded beyond its limits to give the stars more screen time. That being said, there are some entertaining performances, particularly one of my favorites, the scene-stealing Mary Holland (The Package, Happiest Seasons), who plays the other Maggie, and Happy Anderson (Bird Box), a deaf contract killer who brings deft comic timing to a stoic role.
Maggie Moore(s) is based on actual events, though the scheme plays like Jerry Lundegaard’s harebrained plan, made famous in Fargo (and portrayed by William H. Macy). While Slattery’s film could never be confused with the Coen brothers’ black comedy masterpiece, Maggie Moore(s) is a darkly comic, Elmore Leonard-inspired tale. While the subplot of Hamm’s pursuit for happiness becomes too heavy-handed for my tastes by the end of the third act, the overall story is a quick shot of true crime adrenaline that becomes addictive by the film’s end.
Director: Peter Sohn Writers: John Hoberg, Kat Likkel, and Brenda Hsueh Stars: Leah Lewis, Mamoudou Athie, Ronnie Del Carmen
Synopsis: Follows Ember and Wade, in a city where fire-, water-, land- and air-residents live together.
Pixar is one of the few studios with sky-high expectations with every animated film release. Every single effort has the potential to become a classic, which happens when your first film is Toy Story. A studio with the guts to avoid sequels during its first ten releases has some magic from Pixar’s initial run. Their latest, Elemental, the studio’s label of stunning animation, a visual marvel, along with a heart-swelling story, a beautifully captivating Thomas Newman score, and a script that has a surprisingly hard time developing a sense of humor.
Elemental follows the story of the vast and vibrant cultures of Element City, where members of the fire, water, land, and air communities live together, but not exactly in harmony, but tend to interact with their own kind. That’s because some elements don’t mix. For instance, water can douse fire, and fire can boil water. The film’s main character, Ember (Leah Lewis), resides in Firetown. Ember is being trained by her father, Bernie (Ronnie Del Carmen), and her mother, Cinder (Shila Ommi), to take over the family business, a convenience store called The Fireplace, a local market known for its Richard Montañez-like flamin’ hot firewood nuggets, eternal blue flame from the old country, and her mother’s tarot card readings.
Ember has all the makings to be successful in taking over the family business if it wasn’t for her blazing hot temper that burns purple. After dealing with a resident who felt “buy one get one free” sparklers met the “just want the free one” condition, she screamed in the basement, causing the water pipes to burst (which is strange since the water was shut off from Firetown years ago). That brings in rushing water and a city inspector, an emotional water being named Wade Ripple (Mamoudou Athie), who was sucked into the pipes and must report the numerous violations he comes across. To avoid all the fines that could put the Fireplace out of business, Wade’s boss, a stormy cloud named Gale (Wendi McLendon-Covey), enlists them to find the water source and fix the issue to save her family business.
Elemental is directed by Peter Sohn, his follow-up to Pixar’s The Good Dinosaur. Sohn is working with a screenplay from John Hoberg, Kat Likkel, and Brenda Hsueh, a team whose resumes are writing for Melissa & Joey and Truth Be Told. Elemental’s most significant issue is that the movie is void of humor, with the jokes being only amusing at best. However, what Elemental does have going for it is a deeply thematic and rich story about first-generation immigrants, vulnerable populations, and the overall level of acceptance. The story of the Lumens is told through a lens of the first-generation immigrant family experience, touching on issues of assimilation, economics, prejudice, and freedom of choice, the latter being particularly relevant for the second generation, who are the main reason for migrating in the first place to bring them a better life. There’s a wonderful sense of community in Elemental, with the Fireplace as a community center where residents can gather.
The entire film is a gigantic metaphor for the division we live in. Sohn and his writing identify themes of socioeconomic issues that come with division and members of disadvantaged communities. You’ll see how the Lumens and the residents of Firetown are examples of concentrated poverty. When the Lumens arrive in Element City, their names are changed during their admission, similar to stories you would hear at Ellis Island. Bernie and Cinder are guided to the poorest part of town because that’s all they can afford, and “their kind” are considered a danger to an area different from theirs. (The issues of prejudice are shown with people’s concerns about “fire” burning down their homes, but you can see this being an inspiration for “blockbusting” and keeping property values high). Elemental’s subtle candy-coated storytelling of these themes makes the animated film brave and profound. You’ll even watch The Ripples, clearly the wealthy and influential residents of the area, as one of Wade’s older relatives has a “well-meaning” racial microaggression comment about how Ember “speaks so well.”
While some won’t pick up on those subtle nuances, what many mainstream fans will love is the superb marriage of the film’s jaw-dropping animation and the soul-stirring romance between Ember and Wally. The characters’ vibrancy is constantly fluid and in motion, which is meticulous, with the remnants of smoke, smut, and droplets left behind. At the same time, you’ll also notice the speed of Ember’s frames or the morphing of Wally’s body changing depending on their emotions and moods. The colors and textures can be breathtaking, mainly when Ember and Wade express romantic feelings. (For example, the film’s best moment is when they can touch without putting either character in danger). Still, the film’s storytelling, along with Elemental’s vibrant and marvelous visuals as a whole, is a very good, animated romance but fails when it panders to the audience’s expectations of including broad comedy. Some of the best bits, like Wally as a child getting stuck in a sponge, are cute but rarely induce any out loud laughter. Elemental hits the right notes with the love story and familial moments – I will say the script comes dangerously close with Wally “whitesplaining” to Ember why she should go against cultural expectations – Sohn’s overall experience is positive, as he tells a familiar story with subtle social commentary.
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by our love for films scores and JD’s piece on Steve Jablonskly’s Transformers music, we devised a bracket challenge that allowed us to determine the ultimate film score! This is an episode that’s been 10 years in the making. We love talking about film scores, and while it’s certainly been a topic in the past, we’ve never done it like this before.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
– The Ultimate Film Score Part 1 (3:00) For this segment, each of us reveals our Top 4 film scores that compose the bracket that we use for this discussion. We also reveal why we chose the scores that we did and what makes the music so special to the history of cinema.
– The Ultimate Film Score Part 1 Part 2 (1:04:50) In the back half of our discussion, we vote on the matchups created and eventually come to a conclusion on what is the ultimate film score in the history of film.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
Director: Michel Hazanavicious Writers: Michel Hazanavicious, Shin’ichirô Ueda, and Ryoichi Wada Stars: Romain Duris, Bérénice Bejo, Grégory Gadebois
Synopsis: Things go badly for a small film crew shooting a low budget zombie movie when they are attacked by real zombies.
Last year’s Cannes Film Festival opened with a surprising film that many didn’t expect to play there – Michel Hazanavicious’ Final Cut (Coupez!), a French-language remake of the future horror cult hit, One Cut of the Dead. Festival-goers were baffled and confused at the decision that this would be the curtain raiser for one of the most prestigious cinematic events. It wasn’t beloved as some people thought it would be, yet it is slowly finding its audience. Now, the film is finally making its way onto the U.S. festival market by screening at the Tribeca Film Festival – releasing in select theaters in July. Was it worth the wait? Both yes and no, depending on how you look at it. While the film is too identical to separate itself from the original, Hazanavicius delivers enough funny self-referential quips and purposeful schlocky B-horror aesthetics to make the journey into an entertaining, yet rocky, ride.
The film begins with a terribly made (and schlock-full) scene where a woman, Ava (Matilda Lutz), is being bitten by her now zombie boyfriend, Raphael (Finnegan Oldfield). No emotion or terror is running through the actors’ faces on-screen, which upsetsthe director, Remi (Romain Duris), a lot. This is supposed to be the last scene in the film, and he’s asking for another take – a thirty-second one, to be more specific – because the whole project will fall apart if it doesn’t work. Ava is trying to plead her case that she was portraying the scene correctly, but Remi begs to differ. As his frustrations grow, he has a rampage-heavy outburst where he slaps and insults some of the cast and crew right until Nadia (Bérénice Bejo) calms him down a bit. They banter about the director’s usual violent antics, as all of them are tired of his attitude.
After a couple of minutes, a series of rather unfortunate events transpire. The crew appears to be turning into zombies, looking similar to those of George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, with painted blue faces. Ava, Raphael, and Nadia try to run away and fight the zombies in their path. But, as seen in those types of movies, things descend into bloody hell quickly. Ava gets the title of ‘final girl’ as she is the only survivor of this massacre. Something interesting happens next; credits sequences appear on-screen, mocking the audience by presenting an array of metatextual layers – matryoshka doll, a film within a film within yet another film, all of which collide with one another to form an easy-flowing (albeit rocky) and funny ode to what it means to be a director.
Final Cut shows a dual-sided story. The first, and central, storycenters around the ups and downs of the filmmaking process via the perspective of a frustrated French auteur that desperately wants to make his project work, even though it is falling apart completely. In this segment, the audience sees how a director and the producers pitch the project to the studio and its backers, how the crew tries to get a hold of the shoot’s troubling situations, and managing actors. We even see the first thirty minutes from another angle, via Remi’s perspective, as he pursues the double role of being in front of and behind the camera. It’s Michel Hazanavicius presenting a love letter to filmmaking and the pursuit of one’s vision. You feel his passion for the craft; how he directs these sequences of directorial struggles feels like it comes from first-hand experience.
The second one is the movie Remi and his crew are making – a terribly made zombie flick. Here, we see plenty of homages to both genre and B-horror pictures from the 70s and 80s. The practicality of the effects and makeup, as we know how all of them were made by this point in the movie, is the crucial aspect of this segment. You see moments where Hazanavicius wants to channel his inner Romero, Fulci, or Bava. He doesn’t come close to having the mastery and refinery these aforementioned directors had. But, it is a different side of him that we haven’t seen before, partaking in a new genre to explore his love for the ins and outs of the cinematic experience. And although it has some technical downsides in terms of structure, it works more than one would expect.
This isn’t the first time that he has done a remake, as Hazanavicius has directed a James Bond parody with OSS 117 and a haphazard Jean-Luc Godard biopic, Godard Mon Amour, in which he recreates scenes of La Chinoise. So, it makes sort of sense that he’d continue to make his versions of other established stories. There aren’t many highly notable changes between Ueda’s One Cut of the Dead and Hazanavicius’ Final Cut. But the latter suffers a bit from the “why is this being made” remake issues, as it doesn’t add much to what was established in the original, even though you are enjoying what you are seeing. During the middle section, we get a handful of scenes where characters talk about what Hazanavicius is doing, remaking a foreign language picture. These conversations are a fifty-fifty balance of funny and annoying because of its self-referential nature. Yet, it lets us know why the French filmmaker did this project.
Their discussions are somewhat witty and make you think about what the pitch meetings for the vast vacuous remakes that have appeared throughout the years would be like. However, the more it explains itself to the audience, the more the movie loses steam. This issue arrives because Hazanavicius packs his remake with twenty more minutes than the original. He extends the runtime to expand on the self-referential idea of doing an unnecessary remake. Extremely heavy-handed remarks are present and hurt Final Cut’s latter half. For those who haven’t experienced One Cut of the Dead, Final Cut will feel like a fresh and bold horror-comedy venture. If you have seen both, you immediately recognize that Hazanavicius’ vision is more poe-face and charmless than the 2017 movie. Of course, this one would be inferior to the original, as the magic it conjured back when it was released felt special and unique.
Replicating that feeling is a challenging task to do. Michel Hazanavicious tries his best and slightly succeeds in specific points. But Final Cut (Coupez!) is too identical to separate itself from it. At least you laugh and get showered in crimson red along the way.
Director: Andy Muschietti Writers: Christina Hodson and Joby Harold Stars: Ezra Miller, Sasha Calle, Ben Affleck
Synopsis: Barry Allen uses his super speed to change the past, but his attempt to save his family creates a world without super heroes, forcing him to race for his life in order to save the future.
Through the years, there was plenty of talk about bringing the Scarlet Speedster called The Flash to the big screen. If you know a little about the character and some of his storylines, crafting a film centered around him would be pretty complicated. His stories mostly revolved around the character’s manipulation of time and the effects it brings upon him and the people he cares about the most. How was a director going to shoot the numerous super-speed or time-traveling sequences? The only way to do so is by pigging out on CGI; there is no other option, for better or worse – even if we know it is mainly for the latter. In 2014, it was finally announced that a film about the famous comic-book hero would be released, slowly paving the way for the DCEU (DC Extended Universe) and uniting the famed Justice League once and for all. But, as we all know, things didn’t go as planned.
Directors arrived and departed the project left and right, with no one being at the helm. And amidst all that, the DCEU was getting even more fractured with each addition into that universe. Five years later, Argentine director Andy Muschietti, known for the modern adaptation of It, joined the project. Many things happened during those years of production – script (and narrative) changes, possibilities of its lead being recast, and the pandemic holding them back. Some of us even thought it would go down the dumper due to all of these issues. However, after all this waiting, The Flash has managed to get its big-screen premiere. Was it worth the nine-year wait from its announcement until its release? Some people (aka. superfans) call it one of the best comic-book movies of all time, depicting a rendition of the titular character’s classic storyline, ‘Flashpoint’. From my perspective, I call it a complete disappointment.
Barry Allen (Ezra Miller) is working hard, although without much progress, at a forensic lab in the city. The reason why he’s staying there and rolling with his co-worker’s punches is to finally get justice for his dad Henry (Ron Livingston), who was wrongly arrested for murdering his wife, Nora (Maribel Verdú). There’s one piece of evidence that might help his father’s case. But, the CCTV footage Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) provided is unclear, as Henry doesn’t look up, and his face can’t be seen. As his world collapses with the potential of being without someone who loves him, Barry ponders how he can use his super-speed abilities to go back in time and save his mother. Bruce warns him that manipulating time and events will lead to tremendous consequences via the butterfly effect. Of course, Barry is blinded by this possible resolution to his problems. So, he decides to do it anyway.
The Flash got what he wanted; his mother is now alive. But General Zod (Michael Shannon) is threatening Earth in search of a missing Kryptonian hidden on the planet. In addition, his younger immature self – also played by Miller in a Dumb and Dumber-like routine that works on some occasions and grows increasingly frustrating on others – has received the time-altering powers from the original timeline’s Barry. The two Barrys must now seek help from one of the few heroes in that universe, an old and bearded Batman (Michael Keaton), whose persona on-screen seemed like he was going to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon: “I’m getting too old for this s***”. It was apparent that this casting, alongside plenty of decisions, was done just for the sake of fan service. And unlike many other films that rely on the multiverse, which is a very tired concept by now, it wasn’t that annoying or eye-rolling.
It was weird seeing Keaton back in the classic Tim Burton cowl. Yet, his action scenes were decently entertaining. Compared to Reeves or Nolan’s Batman action sequences, they were nothing to brag about. But, at the very least, it didn’t repeat what we have seen before with the character. Right until this point in the film, which is during its middle segments, I was surprisingly going with it. Some of the quips made me roll my eyes to the back of my head, including one where Barry saves a baby from a falling hospital by putting it in a microwave. At the same time, others made me chuckle due to their randomness. You got a quick glimpse of an emotional core in the film, an aspect that felt lacking in recent superhero pictures like Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania or Shazam: Fury of the Gods. The audience began to feel the original Barry’s frustration with his decision and actions. He wants to fix things yet ruins everything else in the process.
I know this narrative is present in all of the multiverse films. What The Flash wants to do isn’t original or even inventive. However, it felt easy-flowing and welcoming throughout this point in the movie. Right after the crew of two Barrys and Batman rescue Superman from this world, Kara Zor-El (a poorly used Sasha Calle), things get into very rocky territory. Andy Muschietti puts the film in a hole it can’t get out of, drowning it in its mediocre direction and messy structure. The Flash’s climax is a repetition of what we saw in Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel, although without the sense of logic or stylistic distinctiveness. The final explosive battle sets itself in a desert – one of the most boring locations for a grand finale – where Zod faces the Barry duo, Supergirl, and Batman.
Things don’t go as planned, so they retread their steps and try another way. And they try again… and again… and again once more, only to bore the audience into oblivion with a scratched record manufacture of horrid CGI, no surprise factor, or texture. After watching this fight sequence almost eight times, we are treated to one of the worst conclusions in recent superhero flicks. If you thought the visual effects and cameo spoilage were frustrating, it gets more shoddy by the minute. Think the Scorpion King in The Mummy Returns and Henry Cavill’s digitally erased mustache in The Justice League-level bad. It is unacceptable that the film tries to blind the audience from its cop-out conclusion by manipulating them with cameos and appearances. This level of serving the fandom has reached a new low with The Flash. The heart that the first and half of the second one had was left aside to give audiences “what they wanted”.
Andy Muschietti has made a film showcasing comic-book movies’ worst tendencies. Glimpses of this were seen throughout its entire runtime, albeit exaggerating it on its curtain closer – personifying the feeling of a mega fan standing in a theater and pointing at the screen. I left the film disappointed and exhausted. The former is because of what the film began plotting and what it ended up being; the lifeless curation of superhero movies causes the latter. The Flash is not the worst of its kind, although it definitely is one of the most vacuous expeditions into the multiverse.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss the greatness of Billy Wilder and his 1959 classic Some Like It Hot. Wilder is one of the greatest filmmakers to ever do it and this is one of his very best films. So there was plenty to discuss and we had a great time.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
To hear this Extra Film episode and everything else we do, download our apps on the Amazon Market for Android and the Podcast Source app on IOS devices. The mobile app covers all of our main shows, bonus podcasts and everything else relating to the InSession Film Podcast. Thanks for your wonderful support and for listening to our show. It means the world to us.
Directors: Steven Caple, Jr. Writers: Joby Harold, Darnell Metayer, Josh Peters Stars: Anthony Ramos, Dominique Fishback, Luna Lauren Velez
Synopsis: During the ’90s, a new faction of Transformers – the Maximals – join the Autobots as allies in the battle for Earth.
Can you fault a franchise that wants to ensure its audience gets their money’s worth? Of course, you can, but you can certainly respect the effort. That’s what the previous incarnations of Transformers fell into: the Bayhem experience. Not so much saturating but immersing the viewer with an onslaught of digital special effects and a bombardment of sound that even Armageddon told the series’ films in the science fiction franchise to quiet down. This version is now one Michael Bay short, and Transformers: Rise of the Beasts is the definition of “less is more,” learning from the one bearable film in the franchise, Bumblebee. However, the latest version of the Transformers franchise remains a cinematic action diversion we used to take for granted but still cannot quite recommend.
The year is 1994. There was no such thing as a smartphone. Friends was all the rage. O.J. Simpson was on television for eye-opening reasons, and social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, and TikTok were flashes of genius not yet conceived. Hardly anyone had their own cell phone (look it up, kids). That’s why Noah (In the Heights’ Anthony Ramos) communicates with his little brother, Kris (Dean Scott Vazquez), via walkie-talkie. Noah is a decorated former military man and electronics expert trying to secure a job to help pay medical bills for Kris’s sickle cell anemia. After Noah was rejected for a job for not being a team player, he turns to crime by helping steal cars when the hospital refused to see his brother after being three months behind on bills.
When Noah tries to lift a historic Porsche 911 Carrera RS – I had to look that up – the car turns out to be a rebellious transformer named Mirage (Pete Davidson) who takes Noah with him because he answers the call of Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) who is alerted to a signal that there may be a way home to Cybertron. That’s because Elena Wallace (Dominique Fishback), a research intern at a local museum, finds a key hidden in an ancient artifact that sends a signal in the sky, alerting not only the Transformers but also a group of deadly Terrorcons who want to liberate Earth of all its natural resources. To defeat the deadly robotic race, the Autobots work with the Transformer faction, the Maximals, Noah, and Elena to defeat the Terrorcons and return home.
Under the new direction of Steven Caple Jr. and with so many writers that you can form a basketball team (five in total), Transformers: Rise of the Beasts is a considerable improvement in the franchise. It’s a somewhat self-contained story that benefits from using a straightforward MacGuffin of finding, locating, and trying to keep the key(s) safe. However, that’s a double-edged sword since if you have ever watched the numerous other Transformer films, and this one is set in the past, Optimus Prime and his friends won’t be leaving Earth anytime soon, leaving much of the suspense at the concession stands for fans. I’ll add quickly the “Beasts” in the film, consisting of the Maximals, should be front and center but take a back seat here.
The script relies heavily on the connection between the lead character and a supporting Transformer, a staple dating back to Shia LaBeouf and HaileeSteinfeld’s association with the series’ most likable character, Bumblebee. However, here it relies too much on the audience’s enjoyment of Pete Davidson’s Mirage, who never forms a connection with Ramos’s Noah in the way the script needs to establish the emotional relationship it leads up to. Additionally, there is the subplot involving Noah and his family, with his mother strangely absent after a brief appearance. Furthermore, the sibling relationship is cute and heartwarming, but is it different from what we have seen in other action films? These are all standard tropes that remain unchanged regardless of resets or reboots.
Then there’s the script itself, which produces dialogue as if it’s being plagiarized, stealing one-liners from a Transformers doll equipped with pull-string dialogue. The lines include words about honor, fighting back, making someone pay, and an Autobot announcing who they are. It all feels clunky and grating and does not enhance any action or the excellent special effects. This includes almost every time Optimus Prime speaks. The script has developed a nasty habit of turning him into a false leader and demagogue. It’s noticeable that every time one of the Maximals comes up with a plan and shows genuine leadership, Prime jumps in and says, “And we take the fight to them!” as if he came up with the idea in the first place. There should be edited scenes showing the characters talking behind their back and complaining throughout the film.
While venting my frustrations, I must say that I do like the cast, which is primarily made up of diverse actors, including Ramos and Fishback, who has been a serious talent since breaking out on the scene in the independent film Night Comes On. While Transformers: Rise of the Beasts has a furious finish that almost saves the moviegoing experience, Bumblebee’s return after being absent for most of the runtime and the ending’s head-scratching tease is enjoyable. Caple’s update remains an empty promise with plenty of potential for future installments.
On this episode, JD is joined by Brandon Wettig of BrandoCritic to discuss Steven Caple Jr’s latest film Transformers: Rise of the Beasts! This is a film that JD has been looking forward to for quite some time as a Transformers nerd, and we had a great time talking about this new reboot is promising.
Review: Transformers: Rise of the Beasts (3:00) Director: Steven Caple Jr. Writers: Joby Harold, Darnell Metayer, Josh Peters, Erich Hoeber, Jon Hoeber Stars: Anthony Ramos, Dominique Fishback, Peter Cullen, Pete Davidson
First of all, as we begin, let me emphasize that I’m no music expert. I have no background in music. I can’t speak to any technicalities regarding chords, melodies, or music theory. I’m just someone who deeply loves musical scores from film and listens to them like it’s their job. If you’ve ever listened to the podcast, you’ll know that it’s something that I talk about regularly. So, with that in mind, it’s time we recognize Steve Jablonsky’s Transformers scores as some of the best we’ve heard from any major blockbuster in the last thirty years.
Perhaps they’re not widely talked about because Michael Bay’s Transformers are not highly touted in any way, shape, or form. They made a lot of money, sure, but not many are claiming them to be among the better franchises we’ve seen over the last 15 years. So it’s understandable that certain aspects of those films will be overlooked. However, I’m going to make my case for why Jablonsky has earned his spot among the top tier of blockbuster scores. And it all starts here with ‘Arrival to Earth’ from the first Transformers.
This piece of music is nothing short of excellent. It’s interesting too because, on its own, it doesn’t invoke anything Transformers. There’s nothing bombastic or urgent about it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite with its majestic and sublime qualities. The strings reverberate a feeling of imposing elegance, especially when accompanied by the chorus of angels behind them. As it crescendos it only gets better and better, with an elevated glimmer at the half-way mark, before letting the vocals take over for a moment. Then there’s the horns. Just pure bliss. It’s truly an evocative piece of music. Similarly the ‘Optimus’ and ‘Bumblebee’ tracks are distinguished by the same tones and heroic melodies.
However, on the flipside of that coin, tracks such as ‘Downtown Battle’ and ‘Soccent Attack’ offer up that loud bombast you’d expect from a movie like that. The horns are prominent and the Hans Zimmer-esque drums do much of the heavy lifting. These tracks aren’t anything transcendent, but are still effective and work seamlessly with Jablonsky’s main themes.
Which leads to my last point regarding Transformers, I love how ‘No Sacrifice, No Victory’ is kind of a meshing of the main theme and film’s more gaudy components.
Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is easily the worst of the films on the whole, but Jablonsky and Lisbeth Scott do come ready to play. ‘Prime’ is foundational to the film and does a great job of invoking the same feelings of ‘Arrival to Earth’ while carrying a bit more urgency with the drums and pacing of this piece of music.
Then there’s ‘Nest’ – a track that truly separates itself from anything we heard in the first film. Again, I can’t speak to its nuances like a musician can, but its guitar riffs and pacing offers a fun energy. It then, of course, incorporates some of Linkin Park’s ‘New Divide’ into it as well. To me, this is one of the more defining pieces of music for the film.
However, I have to admit that my favorite track from this score is ‘Forest Battle’ for its sleight of hand. This is also something that is missing in a lot of action films these days. The building up of tensity (to accompany the action on screen) and then the release of the main theme. Again, this is a really bad movie, but the editing here and how the music is incorporated is quite great. Easily Bay at this best with this movie. As Optimus is taking on a few Decepticons, Jablonsky uses primarily drums (with some heavy strings) to give the moment some heft as the action is taking place. It’s nothing “amazing” per se, but I do like how different it is from anything else we’ve heard to this point. However; near the half-way point, we hear Optimus yell “I’ll take you all on” as he gears up for a fight, and Jablonsky brings the party.
As someone who grew up with Transformers, and now a massive film score nerd, this moment gives me chills. It’s easily the best moment of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The rest of the score is still very good. Shout-out to ‘Matrix of Leadership’ for its use of vocals and poignant qualities. Bay doesn’t utilize it well because of his storytelling, but the track itself is really great.
Okay, let’s move on to Transformers: Dark of the Moon, which is the best of the Bayformers. There are several great tracks, but the conversation begins and ends with ‘Battle’ – which is one of Jablonsky’s best pieces of music. For one, it’s distinctive from the previous two films, so it has its own identity in Dark of the Moon. Secondly, the structure of it is incredible to me. It starts off with an urgent, but somewhat subdued melody, that quickly picks up pace once the drums kick in at about the minute mark. Another 20 seconds later, however; those strings kick in and it goes to a whole new level of excitement. The gravity that it invokes renders this feeling of tenacity and adrenaline. As someone who plays beer league hockey, if I need to get amped up before a game, this is the track I play. You’re ready to go after listening to this.
I cannot get enough of that. I love how captivating and engaging that piece of music is, on its own and in context of the film. It’s just a lot of goddamn fun.
Another track to highlight is ‘It’s Our Fight’ – which is equally great. What I love about this piece is how methodical and nuanced it is. The first minute is slow and steady, but as it picks up pace, it simultaneously carries over that ‘Arrival to Earth’ gracefulness with its strings. Somehow it has both a gripping bite and gentle poise. That’s not a coincidence, though, because this is used when Optimus Prime is leading the charge in the Battle of Chicago as it begins to crystalize, and Optimus is a character known for his fighting prowess and his tender leadership. Jablosnky leans into that duality perfectly with this piece of music. There’s no denying the urgency of this track – which gives the action sequence a fun energy – but I do love how it never waivers from that balancing act.
In juxtapostion to the dramatic urgency of the score, Jablonsky brings a touching sorrow to the music with tracks such as ‘Sentinel Prime,’ ‘There is No Plan,’ and ‘The Fight Will Be Your Own.’ I love the somber qualities of ‘Sentinel Prime’ as they attempt to tap into why a leader of his ilk would succumb to fear. ‘There is No Plan’ has a nice slowed-down version of the main theme from the first Transformers. ‘The Fight Will Be Your Own’ is soft and wonderfully affecting. If you’re ever in a sad mood and need something to accompany that for you, it’s a great track to just have on in the background. Sometimes it does feel like the fight is our own.
The last track I wanted to note here is ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ – which plays in the film’s opening. I just love the fun energy of this track. For a film setting the stakes of its drama, and what Bay is trying to accomplish on screen, this music is flawless.
Transformers: Dark of the Moon is not exactly setting the world on fire when we’re discussing cinema and mainstream Hollywood films. It is, arguably anyway, the best of Bay’s attempts at the franchise, for whatever that’s worth. Either way, Jablonsky brings the heat. The urgency of this score, the emotion of it, the intensity of it at times, it’s all mesmerizing.
In 2014, we move away from the Shia LaBeouf-led movies and into the world of Mark Wahlberg. With this change, Jablonsky does reinvent himself a little bit here. The main theme, and the melodies surrounding it, are mostly gone in Transformers: Age of Extinction. Instead, we have a new ‘Autobots Reunite’ theme to replace it. And I gotta say, I quite love it. The strings evoke a little bit of that previous gracefulness, but this track is much more drum heavy. The big difference, though, are those *incredible* horns. Jablonsky’s emphasizes those French horns like never before, and it gives the film a feeling of “LFG” – especially when John Goodman’s Hound is shouting “Oh yeah! HELL YEAH! He’s back! He’s alive! OPTIMUS IS HERE!”
One of the more prominent themes of Age of Extinction is ‘Tessa.’ It features a touching piano motif that’s accompanied by a lovely vocal in the background. Regardless of what it means for the film, the music itself is exquisite and I love its tender rhythms. Bay comes to this piece of music often, and I don’t blame him.
‘Hunted’ is another fascinating piece to this score. It’s not verbatim, but the closes to anything Jablonsky did in Dark of the Moon with how it blends both a feeling of urgency with opulence. At least for the first half of the track. Because there’s a subtle, but dramatic shift, as those guitar rifts and drums pick up the pace and things become much more grave in tone. Then, with about a minute and half left, Jablonsky hits us with a heavy dose of drums and guitar riffs. And it goes so f***ing hard.
The best track in Age of Extinction is ‘Lockdown.’ Now, I’m not saying this should be in the echelon of the Darth Vader’s of the world, but as far as baddie themes go, it’s one of the best of the century so far. I absolutely love it. There’s something so simple, yet powerful about it. A compelling drum rhythm and modest keyboard (which seamlessly transitions to strings halfway through) progression that evokes intimidation and dominance. If Bay had a made a great film (I know, I know), this wouldn’t take much convincing on my part. This is incredible work.
Finally, there’s Transformers: The Last Knight. I understand why may claim Revenge of the Fallen to be the worst of them, and it may be, but The Last Knight is just so forgettable. Michael Bay had clearly checked out by this point. Thankfully, Jablonsky didn’t. By this point, we’re five films into the franchise and yet he’s still putting out bangers like ‘Purity of Heart’ – a string-heavy track that’s so luscious and ethereal. It’s honestly one of the best tracks in all of these movies.
Same thing can be said about ‘Seglass Ni Tonday’ – a fascinating cue that’s reminiscent of ‘Purity of Heart’ before it transitions in the last two minutes to a faster pace and engrossing string progression.
On the whole, the score for Transformers: The Last Knight is slightly lesser than Transformers, Transformers: Dark of the Moon and Transformers: Age of Extinction, but it’s much, much, much better than the film itself. And I love how Jablonsky circles back to his roots with one of the last tracks, ‘Calling All Autobots,’ a track that recycles the main theme and melodies from the first film. Which is fitting given that this is where his relationship with the franchise ended.
As I noted at the beginning of this, I’m not a music expert. I don’t know the jargon. All I know is I listen to film scores all day, every day, and these scores rule. So maybe I didn’t convince you with my simpleton explanations. But give these scores a listen outside of their films. If you can stomach a re-watch, go back and see how incredible they are in context as well. They are easily one of the best things about those movies. Maybe *the* best thing about them. They are genuinely phenomenal pieces of music and belong in the upper tier of blockbuster scores. I’ve been waiting 10-years+ to say those words on this website. It was cathartic. It was joyful.
Not long ago, Film Twitter, a place that reeks of sensitivity when it comes to criticism, got up in arms about the place of nudity and sex scenes in movies. While it’s of the minority that sex and nudity are unnecessary and morally wrong, just how Film Twitter reacted so aggressively to that take is an example of how tiring this mob-like mentality is really crushing on the soul and the mind. I use it for my work and to connect with others, and whatever Elon Muskrat has planned, I’m not leaving the site – yet. But, man, the hive of loving (or “Stanning”) or hating a thing is pathetic.
Now, the exposure of breasts, buttocks, and genitalia has been around for over a hundred years in cinema. The silent film Hypocrites featured a nude woman in the context of religion, yet just seeing a nude woman was met with riots. Under the influence of the Catholic Legion of Decency and the Hays Code, there was no nudity shown in Hollywood films until the 1960s. European films were more tolerant and allowed nudity to go mainstream in the 1950s. Ingmar Bergman’s Summer With Monika, Roger Vadim’s And God Created Woman, and Jean-Pierre Melville’s Bob le Flambeur had moments of nudity, but nothing overtly explicit.
As the walls of censorship were falling, it was becoming easier to now depict sex with groaning, thrusting, and now male nudity being added. It was the 1970s and sexual liberation was all over and the only one complaining was the conservatives who were calling foul in the name of indecency. But Pandora’s Box was open and it could not be contained anymore in Western countries. Cut to the era of #MeToo and the waterfall of scandals involving couch casting and other demands of sexual humiliation, there is an awareness that actors don’t have to do nude scenes. The “intimacy coordinator” was created to show how a love scene is done properly and get any actor comfortable.
It is from this a puritanical sense of cleanliness from critics, bloggers, and trolls has come to discuss whether or not it’s fine to have a love scene. Some say watching it is uncomfortable and others believe the actors are being exploited when they do it. Actors have no-nudity clauses in their contracts, so camera angles cut off actors exposing themselves and body doubles in place of the actor when it comes to the nude scene. What was criticism mainly from conservatives over sex and nudity has now shifted over to, shall I say, politically correct liberals who act overzealously in the name of “protecting” women from abuse and think any of it desecrates women and the whole movie.
Sex scenes, if done tastefully and within the nature of the story, can absolutely be part of the movie. The porn industry is the setting of Boogie Nights, Las Vegas nude dancers as part of Showgirls, and the expression of a passionate affair in Blue Is The Warmest Color. Even in isolated scenes – the literal first scene of Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead between Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Maris Tomei – sex is okay in portraying. Even in the era of erotic dramas, where in the 1980s and 90s there were films (good or bad) with steamy romance and raunchy sexuality, it was all beautiful and memorable and no one got hurt making it. This is part of the freedom of expression and the anti-sex discourse is guilty of promoting a form of censorship.
Much like book banning or prohibiting certain subjects being taught in schools (I live in Florida), the idea of suppressing sex from the screen goes against the idea of free speech. Gay sexuality, trans sexuality, whatever the case, it should be done with total freedom. That’s what made Pier Paolo Pasolini a renegade with his films going into taboo subjects, straight and gay, and showing plenty of skin from everyone. People who’ve come to support the sex scene cited Don’t Look Now and the graphic sequence between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland. Or, Jane Campion’s The Piano. Or, the first NC-17-rated film, Philip Kaufman’s Henry & June. You could even include half of Pedro Almodovar’s films with his uncompromising moments like in Matador, Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, and Bad Education.
I thought of the controversy over the music video to George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex,” which seems very tame today. Also, the lyrics to it are very tame. Prince’s lyrics to a number of songs are quite obviously filthy. Any controversy today? Let’s not confuse sex scenes with rape scenes or scenes depicting violence toward women. It isn’t shocking as I Spit On Your Grave, Dressed To Kill, Gutterballs, or Irreversible, any part of the exploitative rape-and-revenge genre. We are more aware of certain scenes and how nudity is shown and it is done with care and with taste. The velvet curtain is open and cannot be closed again.
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, we do a full Spider-Man retrospective, covering all the movies from Sam Raimi to Marc Webb to the MCU and the animated Spider-Verse movies!
The varying eras all have something unique to offer, even if the quality does fluctuate at times, but Spider-Man is a character that we all love. And it’s made these films, at the very least, compelling to talk about.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
– Spider-Man Retrospective Part 1 (3:00) To being, we talk about the Sam Raimi films at length. Spider-Man 2 is considered by many to be one of the best superhero movies ever made. We also have a lot of great things to say about Raimi’s first Spider-Man and how it helped kick the genre into a new gear.
– Spider-Man Retrospective Part 2 (1:04:50) In the back half of our discussion, we debate the Marc Webb films, talk about Spider-Man in the MCU and Ryan gives us his thoughts on Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
I swore off the Marvel Cinematic Universe after Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. It’s not because I had a strong negative reaction to the film. It’s because I didn’t have any strong feelings at all. I remember seeing the trailer and getting misty eyed, as well as excited, to see Namor, one of my favorite Marvel characters, finally make his way to the screen. I had thought this one could erase the bad taste in my mouth from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and Thor: Love and Thunder. Then Julia Louis-Dreyfus, typically a welcome sight, showed up to be a distraction, then Namor said the word “mutant” in a meaningful way, then they introduced Riri Williams/Ironheart, and I realized that this story, no matter how personal it was meant to be, has to serve the Mighty Marvel Machine.
They all have, really. When Nick Fury shows up in the stinger for Iron Man, the whirring in the brains of comic book fans started. Then, when Tony Stark was in the stinger for The Incredible Hulk, the only question was if they really were doing what we thought they were doing. Could they do what their source material has been doing for decades? They’d have to fight straining actor egos, ballooning budgets, and finding a grounded, human story amongst the grand ideas that the comics art form presents. They’d have to entice “jocks” and other people unversed in comics lore to make these films profitable. The MCU was a tremendous gamble.
That gamble paid off, with a tremendous amount of interest. They, at what is now Marvel Studios, built a cinematic universe unlike anything that has come before it. All the films serve the grand design in some way and build toward an eventual climax that seemingly will never come.
It would have been a staggering achievement on its own just to make it to the first Avengers film. Yet, they did it, then they did it three more times with much larger casts and grander story ambitions. In its first eleven years, Marvel Studios churned out 23 films, three adjacent network television shows, three not quite, but sort of linked, cable television shows, and six adult focused streaming shows. You could kind of ignore the shows, but they had interesting filler elements and character introductions. It was already a behemoth, then it exploded.
The year 2020 was a breather, a blip, but 2021 was everything, everywhere, and all at once. Four theatrical releases coupled with five television shows, all of which are important to the larger story, all of which had their own clues toward the newest and biggest saga. Last year, 2022, was slightly less daunting with three theatrical releases and three television series, though they all hinted at the avalanche headed straight for us, the cascading pile of continuity as this colossal undertaking enters its fifteenth year.
A friend of mine remarked when I asked what she thought of the MCU that she prefers films that don’t require a ton of homework in order to understand the basic plot. I laughed then, but I see her point. As this franchise continues and they shoehorn in large ideas in order to bring in, or in the case of Blade, Daredevil, Deadpool, the Fantastic Four, and X-Men, reform the legacies of the major characters that exist in a large way in the comics universe, Marvel Studios will undoubtedly bury themselves in a continuity cacophony.
Admittedly, Marvel Studios’ third iteration of Spider-Man did much better than anyone could have anticipated. So it could be that third time’s the charm for the X-Men and Fantastic Four (technically fourth for the FF if you count Roger Corman’s unreleased copyright cash grab of the ’90s). Their brand synergy and bottomless piggy banks have already tied the two previous actors who embodied the role of Spider-Man into a grand multiversal mythos in Spider-Man: No Way Home. Several legacy villainous turns also got in on the action as well as a teaser for the ubiquitous goo, Venom. Then, several other legacy actors made appearances in WandaVision and Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.
It’s all fine and good to play with comics concepts in order to unite the franchises under one roof and yank mercilessly at the yoke of nostalgia. In the age of legacy sequels it’s almost expected. They play off the media dominance of their parent company with a distraction, a, “hey, look at all the characters you love that we get to play with now!” Yet, it’s so bloated and hollow. They’re realizing this grand concept of comics that not only is Earth not the lone inhabited world in the cosmos, but that this particular Earth is one Earth of endless Earths. It’s a great comics concept and works so well in that medium, but all Marvel Studios seems to want to use it for is brand synergy. It’s not the first time they’ve tinkered with something from the comics to make their films more appealing.
It starts with the little things. Infinity Gems get the more masculine moniker Infinity Stones. Peter Parker is handed the technology to be Spider-Man rather than painstakingly developing it himself. Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have nearly identical egos and personalities because a contract is about to expire and the universe needs an intelligent smartass. Usurping the final Captain America solo film into Avengers 2.5 to shoehorn in a popular comics plot as well as to introduce new characters before the next big Avengers film.
Then it’s the radical shifts. The Thor solo films start out as pseudo-Shakespearean dramas with Thor being more brawn than brain, but overwrought with deep feelings. Then the character shifts, hard, into the himbo clown, piggybacking off the success of fellow cosmic characters, the Guardians of the Galaxy. His ancient wisdom usurped by silliness and his deep mythos mined for, “Isn’t this so dumb, but I guess we have to put it in here,” punchlines. Scarlet Witch’s depth of character development in the WandaVision series, tossed aside for her ridiculous heel turn in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Adam Warlock, prime character of the comics Infinity Saga and all around Infinity (Stone) Gem expert, is sidelined from that adventure to become a complete idiot in Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3. It makes me dread what’s to come when they actually dig into characters I care about.
The X-Men films of 20 years ago are nowhere near perfect. They have bits of perfection within them like Wolverine’s mentorship of a young woman, Nightcrawler’s look, and Brian Cox’s William Stryker. Yet, these things are not outweighing the fact that Storm, Cyclops, and Jean Grey are barely a blip of their comics persona, or that two of the most incredibly complex female characters, Emma Frost and Mystique (in the first trilogy), are utterly reduced to sexual objects, and that twice 20th Century Fox failed to make an intriguing screen adaptation of the quintessential X-Men story, the Dark Phoenix saga.
This really isn’t a fear of mine that they won’t get everything “right,” this is a fear that they will ignore the spirit the source material presents. It’s difficult, though, when an idea or a group of characters has been around for 60 years, as there is a lot of ground to cover. The minutiae is hard to coherently describe within the context of a film.
Take the prime example of Cable. He shows up in Deadpool 2 as a mutant from the future out to get revenge for the death of his family and to fix his dark future. Fixing a dark future is a very common X-Men trope. This was fine in the context of the film. The moviegoers for the wacky world of Deadpool don’t need to know that Cable is actually the son of Cyclops and a clone of Jean Grey, the Goblin Queen, Madelyne Pryor. They don’t need to know baby Cable was sent into the future because they could cure the techno-organic virus he was infected with by the villain Apocalypse. They don’t need to know he returned to the present as a grizzled, battle hardened older man in order to battle Apocalypse and prevent his rise to power. They don’t need to know that that is the cleanest, least confusing reason Cable traveled to the past. This kind of backstory is built over decades and required the brains of multiple writers over multiple titles picking up or sewing in loose threads where they could. This is not how the MCU films operate.
The MCU may, in the case of the X-Men, and X-Men adjacent Deadpool, eschew a full origin story. There willlikely be some silly reason Deadpool shows up in the MCU. For either the X-Men or the Fantastic Four they will at least have an introductory phase where the slate is cleaned and the new normal is established. They will take only bits and pieces to craft these characters so they fit in this world, but only just so they fit, not so they thrive on their own.
Marvel Studios doesn’t make movies that stand on their own anymore. If the reception of Thor: Love and Thunder or Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness are any indication, Marvel Studios needs to realize that people are enjoying the small connectivity, but don’t need every film to be a “key” film. It’s much more fun if things are peppered into a story like they used to do rather than just trying to get people excited for the next movie, show, or special. Let us, the audience, find those key details later like comics collectors do when they realize how important a briefly introduced character will be later, maybe even years later. Just look at the cast list for Captain America: New World Order coming in 2024 and you’ll see a handful of cast members and characters from The Incredible Hulk reappearing there. Though this proves that Marvel Studios has no real interest in Captain America solo stories, even with a new character taking on the moniker of Captain America.
Essentially, Marvel Studios has always been on a bit of uneven ground. The MCU came on subtly and warily with its introduction being a cool nerd who has sex and a monster that smashes stuff. They built an empire, but empires eventually fall and fifteen years is a very long run. We’ll see how people feel after the long break between the just released Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3 and the corporate synergy of The Marvels in November. Can two TV show characters and a divisive version of a beloved character truly mix well? We’ll just have to wait and see, but my money’s on the empire waning before it reaches a grand conclusion or even its next climax. The Mighty Marvel Machine won’t just grind to a halt, but will collapse in a heap of its own hubris.
Directors: Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson Writers: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, and Dave Callaham Stars: Shameik Moore, Hailee Steinfeld, Brian Tyree Henry
Synopsis: Miles Morales catapults across the Multiverse, where he encounters a team of Spider-People charged with protecting its very existence. When the heroes clash on how to handle a new threat, Miles must redefine what it means to be a hero.
If you randomly ask anyone worldwide to name any superhero, Spider-Man would likely be one of the most common replies. The character’s popularity – primarily the Peter Parker iteration – is astronomical. Since the turn of the millennium, there have been 9 Spider-Man films, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) version has featured an extra three times on top of his solo trilogy. Not to mention, the character has made multiple appearances in other forms of media such as video games and television projects. One of the reasons his popularity has been so mainstream, and the reason creator Stan Lee fought so hard to make the character, was because of his relatability of being a normal kid with everyday struggles. He wasn’t rich and he wasn’t popular, he was every anxious and scared kid who thought battling superpowered villains was easier than going to school, but deep down wants to help the people who couldn’t help themselves.
To spread this message to a broader audience, Spider-Man became an alias for more than just one individual, it evolved into a moniker for a group of some of the most diverse and unique superheroes that have ever existed. This has been something the comics have delved into but until 2018’s surprise masterpiece, Into the Spider-Verse, films hadn’t touched on any Spider-Person other than the original Peter Parker. That changed when Into the Spider-Verse had their main character as one of the more recent additions to the Spider-Man lore, Miles Morales (Shameik Moore). The film also included the well-known Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson), but also other lesser-known Spider-People such as Spider-Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Man Noir (Nicholas Cage), Penny Parker (Kimiko Glenn), and Spider-Ham (John Mulaney as a talking pig with Spider-Man powers). With this film, Spider-Man as an idea grew past what anyone in the mainstream ever realized, and with the sequel Across the Spider-Verse, it gets even larger.
Across the Spider-Verse opens with a drumming Gwen Stacey talking through how hard it is to be the only Spider-Person in her universe – a situation that is even harder now knowing there are people in other universes who can understand her. She heads to the local art gallery after hearing reports of an attack from The Vulture (Jorma Taccone), however, when she sees this Vulture she notices something off about him – he isn’t from her universe. During their fight, Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac) and Jessica Drew (Issa Rae), two other spider-people, appear to help Gwen and return the out-of-place Vulture to his original timeline.
Meanwhile, back in Miles Morales’s universe, a new villain is attempting to rob an ATM at a local shop. This villain, Spot (Jason Schwartzman), is covered in spots that let him open portals to different places. During a fight with Miles, Spot explains to him how he was created and the role that they both took in each other’s creation. Spot escapes Miles and figures out a way to traverse dimensions so he can grow more powerful. Gwen and other members of the “Spider-Society” (a group of spider-people created by Miguel O’Hara tasked with stopping anomalies among timelines) must find a way to stop Spot, while Miles is forced to reconcile with the role he must play in everything.
Into the Spider-Verse is, and always will be a crowning achievement in cinema. It didn’t just change the way an animated film could be told, or viewed, it completely shattered the very fabric and understanding of what an animated film is. Across the Spider-Verse could have mainly followed in the footsteps of its predecessor and still have been a better movie, animated or not, than most over the past few years. Luckily for us, the minds and massive team of around 1000 animators didn’t want to take the easy path, no, they once again absolutely shattered how a film can be told through animation. So much so that Across the Spider-Verse almost transcends being just a film, it’s pure art.
From the beginning drum solo, which features only a small section of Daniel Pemberton’s miraculous score, the frenetic animation pulls the audience in giving only clues of what is about to come. Blending together what seems to be every animation style known to man with a massive cast of almost every version of Spider-Man there has ever been expands on the idea of what film can truly be. The action sequences are created with such ferocity to raise the heart rates of the viewers, but the emotional beats are displayed with enough pathos that feels palpable at any given moment. It’s an enthralling work that, even though it very much exists, still feels imaginary.
The mesmerizing visual style isn’t the only thing this film has going for it, as the characters and the emotions are explored even more in this sequel. The scared kid who had his life change overnight is growing up, and now a year older, Miles’s confidence has grown with it. Gone are the days where he is scared to even use his powers as now his focus is to become a part of something bigger. However, as he finds out, not everything he wants is as great as it seems. If his journey in the first film was to learn to trust himself, his journey here is to become his own person. Not just Miles, but Gwen as well, have to learn that if they want to tell their own story, they have to take control of their own lives. Its emotion, while sad at times, isn’t rooted in sorrow, but displayed in these characters learning to command themselves and carve out their own paths within a myriad of universes.
Across the Spider-Verse is, like the first of this soon-to-be trilogy, a masterpiece. An animation spectacle that doesn’t just redefine what it means to be an animated film – something Into the Spider-Verse did itself – it redefines filmmaking as a whole while always still keeping the emotional beats and characters at the focus. A stellar score and soundtrack as well as a voice cast constantly giving their all make this not just one of the best films of the year, but one of the best ever, and is now two-thirds away from being one of the best trilogies in cinema history.
On this episode, JD and Brendan are joined by Christian Eulinberg as we discuss the highly anticipated sequel Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse! The films is slaying at the box office. Critics love it. Audiences love it. Is it really as good as people are saying? Spoiler alert; yes. Yes it very much is.
Review: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2:26) Director: Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson Writers: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, David Callaham Stars: Shameik Moore, Hailee Steinfeld, Brian Tyree Henry, Luna Lauren Vélez, Jake Johnson
This week on Women InSession, we get into a strong debate over what decade is the best for cinema! This is a tough task as every decade has strong candidates to offer, but that’s what made the conversation really fun, even if a argumentative at times.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
To hear this Extra Film episode and everything else we do, download our apps on the Amazon Market for Android and the Podcast Source app on IOS devices. The mobile app covers all of our main shows, bonus podcasts and everything else relating to the InSession Film Podcast. Thanks for your wonderful support and for listening to our show. It means the world to us.
Director: Paul Schrader Writer: Paul Schrader Stars: Joel Edgerton, Quintessa Swindell, Sigourney Weaver
Synopsis: A meticulous horticulturist who is devoted to tending the grounds of a beautiful estate and pandering to his employer, the wealthy dowager.
Both our shared, and separate, racial history in this country has provided continual fodder for entertainment, shock value, and, in the best of cases, actual thought provoking conversation. Of course, many of these pieces of art age poorly. What was enlightening just a few decades ago, now seems trite and wildly out of touch (I’m looking at you Crash and American History X). Additionally, our own culture can be tone deaf in seeking out reasons for abhorrent behavior. It was not long ago that our media was inundated with stories humanizing white supremacy and hatred. The desire is understandable; the behavior is disgusting and, we hope, bordering on inhumane. But our history tells us that this is false, that there has always been a breeding ground for white supremacy. These attitudes may be barbaric, but they do possess human qualities, unfortunately. But here we are, in 2023, with yet another story of humanizing an (ex) racist.
Paul Schrader, the scribe behind fabulous films like Taxi Driver and First Reformed, has returned with Master Gardener. Regretfully, this film is not even close to being in the category of the aforementioned films. Master Gardener is not without merit in terms of visuals and performances, but the script itself, at a minimum, borders on the offensive. The film tells the story of an ex-white Nationalist, Narvel Roth (Joel Edgerton), who turned state’s evidence after a crisis of conscience and is living as a gardener at a palatial estate. Now, let me be specific. He is a gardener at a plantation. This is the first of many unsubtle decisions at the script level from Schrader, specifically connected to race and history.
Edgerton is truly fantastic in this role, however. He has made a pattern of understated roles that depend more on physicality and silence than extended dialogue. Every movement that Roth makes is a specific choice from Edgerton, all the way down to the way he drinks from a cup, and immediately feels out of place around the old money of the owner, Norma Haverhill (Sigourney Weaver). The sometimes physical relationship between these two is perhaps the most interesting in the film. Norma is just as racist as Narvel supposedly was, but it is couched in proper behavior and moneyed comfort. Weaver’s performance, as she seems to devour the racism on his skin, evident by the tattoos he refuses to get removed, is a terrifying thing to watch.
The problems with Master Gardener begin with the introduction of Norma’s grandniece, a troubled young woman, as his assistant. Maya (Quintessa Swindell), although impressive, is saddled with an impossible role. Frankly, she becomes the embodiment of Narvel’s forgiveness and change. She is a manic pixie dream girl but for sad racists. The quickness of her turn later in the movie is comically insulting. The script pays lip service to her difficulties but allows him to be a white knight, swooping in to save her, making actual growth from her to be impossible. The idea of using a young Black woman as a prop to forgive a white nationalist for his heinous past is misguided at best.
Of course, there are moments of bliss, even in this mess. Schrader is a talented filmmaker and coaxes great performances from talented actors. Paired with cinematographer Alexander Dynan, he is also able to show us the inherent and changing beauty of nature. The opening credits alone, showcasing the life cycles of stunning flora, is enough to make a viewer gasp. As a nature documentary, paired with some history of gardening from Edgerton’s voiceover, Master Gardener is calming and reassuring. Unfortunately, this also serves as perhaps the most obvious film symbolism in decades. Narvel has been raised in hatred, but is finding a way to be reborn in the rich soil of forgiveness, change, and growth.
There are many films that have spurred important dialogue on race in America. Master Gardener falls short of this, preferring to blanket forgive monstrosity as long as the monster feels bad. Mileage will always vary, but the idea of using Black characters to prop up and advance a man bathed in hatred is sickening. Master Gardener needed more time for these characters to grow, or it needed a writer interested in his Black characters as more than just signposts towards humanizing monsters.
