With superhero movies raking in the cash despite how much they’ve saturated the market, studios are looking for new and creative ways to tap into their passionate fanbase. One of these ideas includes standalone movies that address individual characters, both heroes and villains. Enter Todd Phillips’ Joker, an attempt to give depth and ethos to a psychopathic killer in a time where that kind of behavior is the last thing that needs to be glorified.Continue reading “TIFF ’19: ‘Joker’ Tries and Fails to Hide Its Clownery With a Political Message”
When we’re children, life seems incomprehensible and strange, an amalgamation of emotions that we aren’t sure how to navigate. But as it turns out, that doesn’t change much when we’re adults. We are a mess of traumas and confusion, trying to go through life like we’re fine when we’re very much not. This is where the incomparable Mr. Rogers comes in, a soothing wave of compassion and empathy who wants us all to know it is OK to be angry sometimes. In A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Marielle Heller’s latest film after Can You Ever Forgive Me?, journalist Tom Junrod is a stand-in for all of us, a ball of resentment and fear that learns how to parse those feelings through red-cardigan-clad Fred Rogers.
A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood Is based on Junrod’s 1998 profile of Rogers that appeared in Esquire magazine. Matthew Rhys plays Junrod, who at the time was a jaded journalist who was desperate to find out the worst things about humanity. He digs at people, writing exposes and long pieces of investigative journalism. So he is shocked when his editor assigns him to a puff piece about Mr. Rogers (Tom Hanks), famed children’s TV show host. What Junrod expects to just be a short interview about a joyous old man becomes a transformative process where he learns how to process his trauma and forgive his father.
The male gaze is a term often used to address and critique how male directors use the camera to portray the female body as a site/sight of desire. The term, coined by Laura Mulvey, has grown and changed over the decades to address shifting genres, new mediums, and the growth of female directors. But, the question then emerges, what about the female gaze? Is there such a thing if hegemonic ideas of film are governed by patriarchy? Celine Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady On Fire answers that question with a loud, resounding yes.
It’s back to school season and the eighth episode of the Much Ado About Cinema Podcast has arrived!
I talk to Mary Beth McAndrews and Alejandra Salazar about what we, personally have learned from film. We swap stories about films that struck a chord with our identities, experiences, and relationships. Through all of this, we try to parse out what these movies have taught us about ourselves and each other.
Thanks for listening, and enjoy!
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If there’s something strange in your neighborhood, who are you gonna call? Rosa’s Driving Service, at least in the world of Mike Ahern and Enda Loughman’s feature film debut, Extra Ordinary. Their first feature is a touching and hilarious tale about one woman trying to run from her paranormal gifts, one father trying to save his daughter and placate his dead wife, and one washed up rockstar who turns to the Devil for success.
Rosa (Maeve Higgins) is the daughter of a deceased ghost expert. She possesses gifts to commune with the dead, but chooses to avoid them, turning to her driving school instead. She passes her days educating people how to drive cars, her evenings eating yogurt, sitting on her exercise ball, and listening to messages of people begging for her ghost services. Yet, she has sworn off the paranormal ever since the death of father, bent on living a normal life sans ghosts. However, that all changes when she meets Martin Martin (Barry Ward), a father haunted by his dead wife who nags him even from beyond the grave.
Editor’s note: this piece contains references to racial violence and sexual assault
Tasmania in 1825 was a British penal colony. England shipped its prisoners to its wilderness, a wilderness that they stole from Tasmania’s native population. England abused prisoners and Aboriginals alike, treating them like livestock. In Jennifer Kent’s second feature film, The Nightingale, she navigates the colonial atrocities performed by the British and creates a film that wishes to directly address the cruelty of past while also encouraging empathy for the victims of such violence.
Clare (Aisling Franciosi) is an Irish woman who has been on the island for seven years. She was first sent to prison, then purchased by Lieutenant Hawkins (Sam Claflin). Hawkins has taken a special liking to Clare, routinely assaulting her after he’s had something to drink. Despite her requests for freedom after her marriage and the birth of her daughter, Hawkins clings to her like a starved leech, sucking out whatever life Clare has left. This culminates in a horrific act of violence that leaves Clare alone and full of rage. She hires Aboriginal tracker, Billy (newcomer Baykali Ganambarr), to guide her through the wilderness to catch up the soldiers and enact her revenge.
First, the lights start to flicker. Then, you hear a quiet tinkling of bells. You turn to find the source of the noise and find a woman hiding in the shadows. Her face is covered with long, black hair and her hands are pressed together in front of her. As she gets closer, she looks up and reveals her unnaturally large eyes. This is the last thing you see before she claims your eyes. This is Shirai-san, the ghost of Otsuichi’s newest film, Stare, which premiered this year at Fantasia.