#250. Young Adult (2011)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

There sure were a lot of character-driven indie comedies (that weren't actually comedies) being made around this time. But while Young Adult is tonally predictable and narratively contrived in the way that most of its contemporaries were/are, I think this one manages to slightly separate itself from the pack simply by daring to focus on such an uncharacteristically irredeemable protagonist.

 

Well, maybe "irredeemable" is kinda harsh, but there's no denying that Mavis is a difficult character to follow for ninety straight minutes. She's mean, she's bitter, and she's dangerously delusional. And yet, between Jason Reitman's tender direction, Diablo Cody's brief moments of pathos, and Charlize Theron's raw-yet-humanizing performance, there's also enough depth and nuance to keep her compelling, and compelling in a way that doesn't (overly) sacrifice the credibility of her arc.

 

That's not to say that every single moment smacks of authenticity (it's a good thing Theron and Patton Oswalt have such great chemistry, because the Matt stuff would be almost unbearable otherwise), but the themes of history, stagnation, and mental illness certainly do. They're earnest and uncompromising, and they manage to complement both the main character and the overall mood. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#244. The Conjuring (2013)

 

 

Haunted house movies have never ranked very high on my list of horror subgenres (mainly because I don't believe in ghosts), but I can still find them effective if they keep things simple and sincere. And that's why something like The Conjuring works for me: it doesn't subvert a single trope, but it commits so hard to the material and atmosphere that the scares feel earned.

 

Sure, this means a lot of scenes where characters investigate strange noises and occurrences, but James Wan's direction is subtle and restrained enough to pull these moments off. Plus, they're generally restricted to the first half. Once the demonologists arrive, the approach becomes hands-on and investigative, with a team dynamic at play, both of which made the story much more enjoyable and compelling to me.

 

Also, you have no idea how relieved I was to see that the conflict was almost never interpersonal. So often in these movies, we get way too many scenes where characters either don't believe each other, or start behaving differently and no one catches on, and it's just nice to see one take the level-headed route. Makes for a more satisfying watch, and it also causes me to actually want the best for these characters, which inherently raises the stakes.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. I spent most the movie waiting to see Patrick Wilson notice that Darth Maul-looking guy in the mirror, only to remember near the end that this happens in Insidious.

 

#240. Big Hero 6 (2014)

 

 

Despite my enduring affection for animated Disney movies, I haven't exactly done a stellar job of keeping up with the new releases. In the last twenty years, the only ones I'd seen were Wreck-It Ralph and Frozen, so I thought it was about time I got around to another one. And I settled on Big Hero 6, mainly because the big, fluffy robot always looked so adorable to me.

 

Now that I've watched it: yeah, he absolutely is adorable. I'd almost certainly die for Baymax if I had one in real life. But he's not the only draw here. The story's also really sweet and likeable (even if the message is a bit overstated in the early goings), and the visual aesthetics are extremely crisp and clean. I especially love how fluid everything is, as well as the colourful, futuristic setting that combines elements of Tokyo and San Francisco.

 

Granted, I'm still writing this in the midst of my superhero fatigue, so a few of the action sequences caused me to slightly disengage, but I enjoyed the animation, meta humour, and cute character dynamics enough to have an extremely fun time. Plus, this is the first movie on the blog that made me cry (damn you, Disney), so I can't pretend that the emotional aspects - no matter how manipulative - didn't work on me.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. If there's one major minus here, it's gotta be the villain. Dude might genuinely be in the running for least interesting Disney baddie, right up there with the governor from Pocahontas.

 

#233. Steve Jobs (2015)

 

 

There's this thing that always happens to me when I watch a movie written by Aaron Sorkin. For roughly the first fifteen or twenty minutes, I'll roll my eyes at the breakneck pacing and all-too-witty dialogue, and I start to wonder if his charm has finally worn off. But then, without fail, I find myself slowly getting sucked into his story and characters, and I end the movie thinking "that son of a bitch did it again."

 

Steve Jobs is a heavily fictionalized biopic in the vein of The Social Network and Moneyball, and while it's not quite as flawless as those comparables, the strengths are pretty much identical: keen structuring (and I love that it's broken up into three distinct parts, all centered around press conferences), sharp back and forth, and an emphasis on emotional truth over facts. Once I was on its side, I was captivated the entire way - especially in the confrontational third act.

 

But it's not just Sorkin. Danny Boyle and cinematographer Alwin Küchler capture the screenplay's energy by implementing three different film formats (16 mm, 35 mm, and digital) to make each era unique, and Michael Fassbender, Seth Rogen, Jeff Daniels, and especially Kate Winslet bring these words to life with some killer performances. And the result is yet another in a long line of elegant-yet-complex products to carry the Jobs name.

 

Grade: A-

 

#224. The Gentlemen (2019)

 

 

When it comes to the gangster stuff, Guy Ritchie tends to be pretty divisive. And I do get it. Like, if you aren't into the kinds of movies where everyone's a witty, gun-slinging badass, the shtick probably gets old extremely fast. But, as someone who will never tire of post-Tarantino bloodbaths, I have to admit that this speed, tone, and personality is right up my alley.

 

And, sure, you could argue that Ritchie's playing it safe here by revisiting familiar territory, but I find it hard to care when, one, the result is this entertaining, and two, there's enough dignified polish to separate it from the likes of Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch. This change might erase some of the indie grittiness that he's known for, but it makes up for that with some faux-refinement, which juxtaposes the similar subject matter really well.

 

More than anything, though, I just love his sense of style: the cute structuring (I was beginning to worry that there was too much setup going on, but it arguably makes the payoff all the more satisfying), the fluid storytelling, the colourful dialogue, the playful accents, the distinct characters, the fast action, and the winning mix of tension and humour. I don't know what it all adds up to, but I know it's fun as hell.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. Unless you count Glass Onion, this is actually my first Hugh Grant movie. And my god, what an introduction. Just hearing him say Raymond's name in that cheeky cockney voice delighted me to no end.

 

#216. Pokémon Detective Pikachu (2019)

 

 

Yeah, I was a Pokémon kid. I collected the cards, watched the show, and played the video games. For a good three or four years there, it was pretty much the center of my entertainment universe. So the prospect of a big-budget live-action Pokémon movie absolutely appeals to the inner child - and, who am I kidding, adult - in me.

 

And, honestly, I thought this one was pretty good. The plot's extremely predictable (especially if you're at all familiar with Ditto), most of the characters are cutouts, and the jokes don't have a great hit rate, but there's a sense of livable, vicarious plausibility to the whole thing that basically renders those elements moot for me. Frankly, when I'm watching these real people interact with Bulbasaurs and Mr. Mimes, I can't pretend to care about depth or nuance or whatever.

 

If you do, though, the movie wisely takes the Roger Rabbit route of attempting to balance the silly cartoon stuff with a grounded, noirish story involving the protagonist's family. Again, it's not as successful as Roger Rabbit, mostly because said story's nowhere near as interesting, but it nevertheless provides a decent amount of heart, a cool neon aesthetic, and some fantastic worldbuilding, all of which I appreciated.

 

What I didn't appreciate, though was the fact that Poliwhirl doesn't make a single appearance. What the hell, guys?

 

Grade: B+

 

P.S. A lot of these Pokémon were much furrier than I was expecting. Like, in my mind, Jigglypuff's always had the texture of one of those squeaky bouncy balls that you'd find in a Toys "R" Us bin.

 

P.P.S. Loved the Angels with Filthy Souls reference, especially because it fits right in with the whole '90s nostalgia thing.

 

#212. Love & Other Drugs (2010)

 

 

Love & Other Drugs unfortunately suffers from the same problem that I find a lot of romantic comedy dramas have, and that's that it's trying to accomplish far too much at once. The storytelling's kind of jumbled (there's a relationship subplot, a career subplot, and a Parkinson's subplot, and all three are fighting for dominance), as are many of the emotions, which largely results in every element feeling slightly underdeveloped, and therefore a bit surface-level and generic.

 

And it's a shame, because the genre fundamentals are otherwise quite good. Jake Gyllenhaal is a likeable fit for both the lighter and heavier aspects of the script, Anne Hathaway pulls off the tired frustrations of her tricky character fairly well, the two have incredible chemistry with one another (a pair of extremely hot people make for a cute couple; more at eleven), and Josh Gad is used the exact right amount for comedic relief. 

 

This is an agreeable enough watch for the most part, with decent amounts of humour, warmth, and heart. I just think those qualities would've been even more prominent and consistent with the removal, or reduction, of at least one of the storylines (as funny as some of the Viagra stuff was, that's probably the one I'd choose), a less sterile visual palette, and a smoother tonal balance. 

 

Grade: B

 

#202. Best of Enemies (2015)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

I despise televised debates, especially the ones centered around politics. They accomplish nothing, they never change anyone's opinion, and they always devolve into shouting contests where the loudest, most disruptive voice "wins". Frankly, just thinking about them irritates me, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive Gore Vidal and William F. Buckley Jr. (though the latter can forever fuck himself for many other reasons) for getting that particular ball rolling.

 

But while I have negative interest in watching two rich, entitled assholes pointlessly bicker with one another for an extended period of time (at least outside of a reality TV setting), this documentary does a pretty great job of presenting the subject matter in a way that's entertaining and easily digestible. It's snappy, it's fairly moderate, it includes a lot of enthusiastic talking heads, and it contextualizes the relevance of these men, both then and now, in a way that doesn't feel disingenuous or overblown.

 

Plus, I'm always a sucker for a historic doc that builds to a legitimate climax. So for someone like me, who knew practically nothing about either person or their encounters prior to my initial viewing, that ninth debate really bowled me over the first time, and didn't lose much of its power on a rewatch.

 

Grade: A-

 

#184. Instant Family (2018)

 

 

Every once in a while, you're just in the mood for something nice and sweet, y'know?

 

I won't act like Instant Family doesn't have its share of problems. The first act is somewhat rocky, the characters' decisions and reactions aren't always super believable (especially in the support group scenes, where I feel like I'm watching aliens pretend to be human), and the muddy colour grading is a bit of a tonal buzzkill. But I suppose the mood is otherwise endearing and heartwarming enough that these issues mostly melt away by the time the story takes off.

 

And what a pleasant little story. You can't help but grow to love this group, partially because the cast has so much charisma and chemistry, and partially because the script balances its tones in such a fresh way (for instance, I found many of the jokes genuinely funny, and not in the meek and bittersweet way that you tend to get in this genre). And even if the movie rarely gets as deep or authentic as it would probably prefer, the fact that it cares so much is usually enough to make it resonate.

 

Plus, it's all in service of an actual cause, so there's an additional layer of sincerity and emotional impact here.

 

Grade: B+

 

#176. Faces Places (2017)

 

 

A.K.A. Visages Villages, which is much more fun to say.

 

What a delightful little documentary. You wouldn't necessarily expect a travelogue featuring two slightly self-serious artists to be so endearing, but it works thanks to the fact that they both clearly care about the subjects they're capturing, and because they bring a likeable combination of styles to the table. Agnès Varda's warmth and curiosity pairs incredibly well with JR's larger-than-life projects, and they come together to generate a sweet and often poignant look at the importance of individuals, communities, and spaces.

 

The structure does occasionally get repetitive at times, but it's generally loose and diverse enough that I'd call it far from tedious. For instance, the movie could also be considered something of an autobiography, as we similarly get to learn a lot about our filmmakers - and not just as artists, but as people. Through this intimate process of collaboration, they can share stories with one another, discuss a wide range of philosophical topics, and build an adorable bond.

 

And even if some of the more emotional moments feel heavily manufactured, they're endearing and enriching enough that I can still enjoy them for what they are.

 

Grade: A

 

P.S. My expectations of Godard were pretty low, but goddamn.

 

#154. Gerald's Game (2017)

  

Like a lot of Stephen King adaptations, the premise of Gerald's Game is really strong. Honestly, just the idea of having our protagonist handcuffed to a bed in a remote cabin for most of the runtime is inherently urgent and suspenseful (while also being simplistic and primal in a way that appeals to me), and the heavy use of hallucinations is a clever means of expositing some internal dialogue. Plus, it doesn't exactly hurt that Carla Gugino sells everything as well as she does.

 

Also like a lot of King adaptations, though, the execution is... flawed. Not bad, necessarily, but definitely sloppy. The flashbacks, for example, are appropriately dark and thematic, but they're also pretty blunt and heavy-handed in the way that flashback storytelling often is (while also being a total retread of Dolores Claiborne, right down to the use of the eclipse), and the Moonlight Man subplot, creepy as it was, seemed out of place, or at least incredibly underbaked, to me. Again, neither of these directions are terrible ones, but I feel like they're a bit of a letdown in relation to the setup.

 

I did kind of enjoy the unusual epilogue, however. Like, sure, it's rushed and tonally dissonant, but I also thought it was a creative, satisfying, and well-earned note to end on - especially after being subjected to that goddamn hand scene, which got an audible "Jesus Christ..." out of me.

 

Grade: B

#147. Cosmopolis (2012)

 

 

You'd think that my being a Canadian would automatically make me a David Cronenberg fan, but that hasn't really proven to be the case. In fact, with two or three notable exceptions, most of his work has always come off as undercooked and largely impenetrable to me. And this might be the single worst example yet.

 

For the first hour or so of its runtime, I was seriously wondering if Cosmopolis would land among my all-time least favourite movies. Absolutely nothing about it was working for me, from the empty and unnatural dialogue to the flavourless and interchangeable characters to the repellent visuals to the general sense of superiority that can be felt throughout. The whole thing exhausted me in record time, to the point where I was worried that I might not even make it to the finish line.

 

But then, in the last third or so, I found that the movie became, if not good, then at least somewhat watchable. Both the barber scene and especially the final confrontation managed to hold my attention and not irritate me too much (such is the unsung prowess of Paul Giamatti), enough so that I felt it ended this sour experience on a relative high note. I still think the movie's pointless and incoherent and far too pleased with itself, but I can now kinda sorta understand why it has a minor following.

 

Also, yes, that car is pretty cool - both in design and as a piece of symbolism. 

 

Grade: C

 

#139. Rango (2011)

 

 

As studio-backed animated films go, this is certainly a strange one. Even on just a visual level, I'm not really sure how I feel about it. The character designs are hideous, frankly, but Gore Verbinski also manages to bring a lot of life to the movie through detailed lighting and well-realized environments. Most of it pops off the screen - even, on occasion, the ugly freak creatures that inhabit it.

 

Shifting our attention to the story, it's not quite as memorable or unique as I'd like (especially in regards to the Liar Revealed plot, which has always, by far, been my least favourite kids' movie trope), but I love that it's willing to take its time and really bask in this blistering setting. No matter how ridiculous the action or comedy gets, there's a measured pace to the movie that captures the essence of westerns in a way that actually kinda surprised me.

 

When it comes to this medium, I'll always be partial to the likes of Disney and Pixar (forgive me, I was brainwashed from a very young age), but I can absolutely appreciate a big-budget animated movie that seeks to do something different. Especially when the results are this bizarre.

 

Grade: B+

#132. Dragged Across Concrete (2018)

 

 

If I'm engaged by what's going on, I can absolutely enjoy a slow burn. Dragged Across Concrete is over two-and-a-half hours long, has a languid pace, and spends large swaths of the runtime on scenes that most movies wouldn't even think to include (the Jennifer Carpenter segment is the most obvious example). And yet I savoured basically every minute of it.

 

Granted, this is a crime thriller starring Mel Gibson and Vince Vaughn, so I was more or less on the movie's side before the word go, but there's still something about the way it paces and unravels itself that really worked for me. The characters are so well-drawn, the action is so swift and unflinching, and the storytelling is so tense and colourful (black's a colour, right?) that the whole thing feels airtight, even when it drags.

 

Plus, for a movie this bleak, dark, and unapologetic in its worldview, it's got a surprisingly solid hangout vibe. The stakeout sequences, in particular, are among the best I've ever seen. Between the patience of the writing, the quality of the acting, and the stakes of the situation, you really begin to experience the boredom, frustration, and uncertainty of their dilemma, and you find yourself hoping that the long wait is worth it.

 

As far as payoffs are concerned, I'd say it is.

 

Grade: A-

 

P.S. Those masked robbers are the stuff of nightmares, but I couldn't get past the fact that one of them sounds exactly like Aaron Eckhart. Seriously, watch the movie and tell me you don't hear it.

 

#125. Big Eyes (2014)

 

 

Tim... my man... what the hell happened?

 

If we hone in on the first decade or so of his career, Tim Burton is one of my all-time favourite filmmakers. Beetlejuice, Batman, and Batman Returns are all locks for my top 100, and Ed Wood has an outside chance of qualifying as well. And yet, I don't think I've loved - or even strongly liked - anything he's made this century.

 

For a long time, I thought his increasing reliance on CGI and Johnny Depp were largely to blame, but it clearly runs deeper than that, considering neither are present here and I still greatly disliked the movie. It's more like Burton has simply lost interest in bringing any kind of creativity or passion or originality to his work (which is an observation that would've sounded downright absurd in the '90s), hence why most of his recent output feels so lazy and half-assed.

 

Big Eyes is another in that increasingly long line. It's got the usual latter-day Burton flaws of uninteresting characters, cliched dialogue, and weak performances, and then chucks on the kind of lie-based conflict that I can't imagine anyone finding remotely fun to watch. And the result is a bland, tedious, uninspired mess. Frankly, if not for the fact that it looks a million times better than Alice in Wonderland, I'd call it possibly the weakest film of the man's career.

 

Grade: C-

 

P.S. Christoph Waltz is pretty terrible in this, but I'll concede that his courtroom antics are quite funny. Dude might've had a better non-Tarantino Hollywood career if he took on more roles that played to his comedic strengths.

 

#120. Office Christmas Party (2016)

 

 

About time I started getting into the Christmas spirit, right?

 

Look, every criticism that's been thrown at this movie is completely warranted. The jokes are mostly cliches, the improv is tired and tedious, the physical comedy is marred by obvious CGI, and the resolution is dumb as hell. We're not exactly dealing with a masterpiece here. But you know what? I was in the mood for a silly little holiday comedy, and a silly little holiday comedy is exactly what I got.

 

Sure, that's maybe not the most bulletproof defense in the world, but I'm gonna stand by it. I tend to like these dark, deadpan Jason Bateman vehicles (Game Night might be my favourite comedy of the 2010s), and this one comes with added doses of lunacy and heartwarming sentimentality, not to mention some hamminess from the supporting cast. Your mileage may vary when it comes to deciding whether these qualities are infectious or irritating, but I enjoyed the unrestrained energy and goofiness, and thought it made for both a fun and cozy watch. It also made me laugh quite a bit.

 

Like a lot of "bad" Christmas comedies (Jingle All the Way and How the Grinch Stole Christmas come to mind), I think people will slowly come around to this one with each passing December.

 

Grade: B+

 

#110. Mud (2012)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

The first time I saw this one, it mostly missed me. I don't know if that's because I fell victim to my own expectations or if I was simply hoping for a snappier story, but, either way, it didn't make much of an impression. Now that I've given it a second chance, though, I think I've fallen in love with it.

 

Mud might be quiet and tentative, but it also plays out with such subtle suspense and ambiguous character motivation that every single scene thoroughly gripped me this time around. And because Jeff Nichols examines his coming-of-age themes and ideas through subdued interactions, isolated settings, uneasy atmospheres, and beautiful imagery, it results in a take on love and its complexities that's as poignant and thrilling as it is heartfelt.

 

If you, like me, didn't have much of a reaction to this one after a single viewing, I'd highly recommend a rewatch. Once I knew what tone and pace to anticipate, I couldn't get enough of the way everything gradually unfolded, and felt as though I could've watched these characters in this setting forever. 

 

Grade: A+

 

#102. Meek's Cutoff (2010)

 

 

Apologies for stating the obvious, but just because a movie's slow, that doesn't automatically make it boring.

 

Take Meek's Cutoff, which is unquestionably the former. Its plot is incredibly sparse, there's very little dialogue (and half of it is so quiet that you can barely make out what's being said), and a good portion of the shots are lengthy wides. If you watch this thing and find little more than a host of beautiful landscape paintings, I totally get where you're coming from. But I actually thought it was quite thrilling.

 

Among other things, Kelly Reichardt really understands anticipation and expectation. She places these vulnerable characters in a dire situation, and uses restraint, as well as our familiarity with the genre, to wring a surprising amount of tension out of this simple premise. It's just a nonstop tale of impending doom, where we can always imagine just how south everything might suddenly go, and you don't realize until the (wonderfully ambiguous) ending that you've been holding your breath the entire time.

 

I'd be curious to see how something like this would hold up on a second viewing, now that I know where it goes. But, even putting aside the suspense, the movie's still a vivid and harrowing depiction of the hardships facing American settlers in the 19th century, and an effective look at the tedium of daily struggle.

 

Grade: A-

 

#82. The Blackcoat's Daughter (2015)

 

 

This is one of those "acquired taste" horror movies, the kind that relies much more heavily on slow burn storytelling and unsettling atmospheres than outright scares. We've seen a lot of these in recent years, and there's always something slightly ostentatious about them, but they also generally manage to hook me in with their looming and haunting moods. 

 

Osgood Perkins, a director I'm entirely unfamiliar with (though I recognize him as the son of Anthony Perkins, and as that dorky student from Legally Blonde), clearly knows how to keep this material compelling. The way he lingers on cold, dark, shivery winter textures, the way he warps his narratives in order to maintain intrigue, the way he makes use of disquieting sound design - this guy's the real deal.

 

Mind you, the concept isn't that original, and the slower storytelling doesn't always succeed (once you make the connection between the two narratives, the movie takes a little too long to wrap everything up), but it's otherwise smart and patient in the ways that matter, while also being the kind of dread-drenched experience that makes you temporarily forget what joy feels like. 

 

Grade: B+

 

#74. Pacific Rim (2013)

 

Guillermo del Toro makes action movies with the energy of a ten-year-old boy - and I mostly mean that as a compliment. Like, even when the results aren't to my taste, his enthusiasm is so palpable, and his artistry is of strong enough quality, that there's something infectious about it.

 

Take Pacific Rim, possibly his dumbest movie to date. The dialogue and characterizations and arcs are about as elementary as they come, and the premise is literally Robots vs. Aliens. I won't pretend that it's is my preferred brand of action, but I place this one above, say, a Transformers sequel thanks to its visual quality. And I'm not referring to the battle sequences (they're mostly bland and muddy), but the dialogue scenes, which contain enough stylistic weirdness and bioluminescent beauty to frequently remind you that an actual filmmaker was in control here.

 

It also helps that del Toro keeps everything relatively simple and dynamic, and his understanding of things like pacing and focus allows the rest of us to actually follow - and moderately care about - what's going on.

 

Grade: B