#252. The Morning After (1986)

 

 

As much as I love a slow burn thriller, I can also appreciate one that doesn't waste any time. So the opening scene of The Morning After, in which a hungover woman wakes up next to a murdered body, made a great first impression. Right off the bat, the story's got some personal stakes and narrative urgency, and I immediately found myself on the side of this character who's trying to figure out what the hell happened.

 

After that, though, the movie settles into a more routine and casual presentation. It's kinda disappointing considering where we started, and the mood's rarely as palpable as I'd like from here on out (though at least Sidney Lumet can be counted on to keep things tight), but I was still able to enjoy the workmanlike plotting, the neo-noir atmospherics, and the central relationship's compellingly dubious dynamic.

 

Plus, while some of the character stuff doesn't quite work (there are times where it's genuinely hard to tell whether this woman cares about, or even remembers, her present situation), the attempts at development go over well, and Jane Fonda and Jeff Bridges are so natural and sympathetic in their performances that they mostly manage to overcome the script's tonal and structural inconsistencies.

 

Grade: B+

 

#251. The Butterfly Effect (2004)

 

 

Version: Director's Cut

 

I'm not always crazy about movies that put the concept first, but this is one of those cases where I found it fun and clever enough to give pretty much everything else a pass. And that's worth pointing out because, in most regards, The Butterfly Effect is honestly pretty subpar. The plotting's inconsistent (even by the standards of the subgenre), the drama's overwrought and phony, and the performances are honestly kind of terrible.

 

And yet, because the movie's about a dude who can go into the past and alter the future, I mostly found myself entertained. It's neat to see a story attempt to cover so many timelines and potential outcomes (my favourite: the one where our protagonist is a cool frat boy, mainly because it's played so straight), and I'm always down for a plot that treats itself like a puzzle, regardless of whether it's actually solvable.

 

Plus, the whole movie has that angsty, distinctly early 2000s vibe (think Final Destination) that I'll forever have a soft spot for. Combine that with the exploration of cause and effect, as well as some of the moral dilemmas presented, and it all makes for a surprisingly emotional and thought-provoking watch - especially if we're talking about this specific version. Good lord, what an ending.

 

Grade: B+

 

#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+

 

#249. Mank (2020)

 

 

Something like Mank should've been a slam dunk for me. Even when you put aside my being a fan of David Fincher (and, to a lesser extent, Gary Oldman), I'm fond of Citizen Kane, I usually like movies about movies, and I'm always interested to learn more about Hollywood in the '30s and '40s. But while I wouldn't call this one a misfire, I can't say it left much of an impression, either. 

 

Well, certain elements kinda did. The script has its share of interesting exchanges (though the snippy dialogue quickly wears out its welcome), the actors largely elevate the material, and while Fincher's direction doesn't exactly evoke the era, the visuals still pop. But I guess my problem is that, beneath this technical stuff, the movie just seemed kind of empty to me. I didn't find any of the characters or conflicts super compelling, and I was never all that curious to see where the story was headed.

 

Worst of all is the structuring. I mean, I get why it's here: the nonlinear storytelling is obviously a nod to Kane. But Orson and/or Herman employed this technique to develop their characters and cloud the central mystery, whereas the usage of it here really only serves to create that much more of an emotional disconnect. The result may not be Fincher's worst movie, but it's almost certainly his least noteworthy one.

 

Grade: B-

 

#248. Timecop (1994)

 

 

When you watch the opening scene of this movie, in which a time traveler with futuristic weapons kills five Confederate soldiers and steals their gold, you can't help but feel as though the rest of the script kinda wastes its no-limits premise. Unfortunate as it is, if you're here to see some fights between major historical figures and cops from the future, you're gong to be extremely disappointed.

 

But that's when you need to remember that this is a Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. Like, with all due respect, the ceiling was only ever going to be so high. And, once you adjust your expectations accordingly, I think there's a lot to enjoy here. The story, while not nearly as playfully batshit as it could've been, is still creative and well-structured, the presentation is appropriately lean and grimy, and the supporting cast brings a decent amount of flavour and charisma.

 

Plus, there's the aspect that's always the best part of these sci-fi/action movies, and that's all the futurism/time travel stuff. Even if it predictably results in a thousand plot holes, it gives us some charming sets and designs (I especially love how wrong they were about what cars would look like in 2004), and it ensures a fast pace, which, along with JCVD's patented kicks & splits routine, keeps the action fun and engaging.

 

Grade: B+

 

#247. Disraeli (1929)

 

 

This is officially the oldest talkie I've ever seen (I seriously need to get around to watching The Jazz Singer at some point), and I think I'm beginning to understand why the technological advancement was initially met with some pushback. Like, as cool and charming as it is to hear spoken dialogue in a movie this old, the limitations regarding audio recording result in a very static presentation, with awkward blocking and a motionless camera.

 

Similarly, the storytelling's fairly primitive and formulaic, but at least this aspect was slightly less dry than I was expecting. Well, okay, the premise, about a prime minister's attempt to purchase the Suez Canal, didn't exactly have my heart racing, but there was enough of a strategy component (like Disraeli feigning an illness in order to trap a spy, or bluffing so that he could get a banker to sign a paper) that I remained at least somewhat invested in the plot.

 

Also keeping me invested was George Arliss, and not just because of the ridiculous haircut (was that thing painted on?). His performance may be hammy and over the top, but there's a playful mischievousness about him that both endeared me to the character and provided some much-needed energy and levity. If there's a reason to recommend this one to all the Best Picture nominee completionists out there, it's easily him.

 

Grade: B

#246. Stand and Deliver (1988)

 

 

Prior Viewings: 1

 

Saw this one, predictably enough, in our middle school gym during an assembly. I can still recall our principal (and this is my lone memory of the guy) accidentally introducing it as Stand by Me and everybody being audibly disappointed when another faculty member corrected him.

 

That initial feeling mostly ceased by the time the movie got going, though. Stand and Deliver may be a fairly formulaic bit of academic schmaltz (I do give it credit, however, for hopping on that trend relatively early), but there's a reason why every school on the planet has it in their rotation: it's educational, it's inspirational, and it gives kids an underdog tale that they can relate to. Our group absolutely ate it up. 

 

Watching the movie again as an adult, it's clear that certain aspects of the story are total fiction (no way are a group of teens, regardless of their background, making that kind of educational jump in under a year), and the storytelling's sometimes a bit rushed and messy, but the feel-good presentation, as well as the committed performances from Edward James Olmos and Lou Diamond Phillips, are typically enough to overcome those defects. That's the stuff that left an impression when I was thirteen, and it's the stuff that still works on me now.

 

I do wish it got me to actually care about calculus, though. But I guess that's more of a me problem. 

 

Grade: B+