Films I've Watched

The script for Conclave is a passable, a fairly rote political drama that doesn’t really yield any interesting questions or insights. But the cinematography and overall directing is good enough that I almost don’t mind. I just hope Edward Berger’s next film will be built atop a screenplay to match his prowess behind the camera.

Compared to Kenneth Brannagh’s extra hammy rendition of Hamlet, this is a masterpiece, with strong visuals, clear reasons for character actions, and a great sense of mood. That said, Olivier had to chop out some of the best parts of the play to get it down to this length, and I miss them. Add to that some very rough edits and the distractingly obvious fact that the actress who plays Gertrude is younger than Olivier as Hamlet her son, and I would say this adaptation is still not quite the perfect cinematic take on Hamlet that I have in my mind.

I didn’t really love the first Todd Philips Joker movie — it seemed to derivative of better Scorsese films and I’d never buy that this character could ever be the Joker. He’s not intelligent or charismatic or funny enough. So I went into this sequel with extremely low expectations, especially given the poor critical performance.

But I was pleasantly surprised. (I’m sure the low expectations helped a lot. I often find that I have an “it’s not that bad” reaction when I expect a terrible film.) It’s a lot more interesting to me than the first film, and less encumbered by the baggage of the first film, less derivative and it’s clear that this is not the same Joker who is Batman’s nemesis. (The ending makes that extremely obvious.) And I think that may be the reason for some of the disappointment of fans and critics: They expected to see some awesome Joker villainy, to see him rising to the status of The Clown Prince of Crime, and instead they got a sad, disturbing relationship study of two disturbed individuals.

Accepting that character focus, the plot beats and the use of music become something worth watching. A great movie? No. But at least an interesting one.

I watched this movie when it first came out, and I remember enjoying it but not much else. But I’ve avoided it for a couple of decades as my Shakespeare fandom has waxed and my tolerance for butchery of his works have waned. But I need not have worried — this movie is certainly silly and light, but it’s clearly for and by Shakespeare lovers. There are a lot of easter eggs and the story is an homage as much as a depiction. And it all started to make sense when the credits rolled and I saw that Tom Stoppard was one of the writers.

What a unique and wonderful film, completely unlike anything I’ve ever seen before and yet entirely realized. I always admire the filmcraft it takes to tell a story without dialog, and that’s compounded here by how well observed and well portrayed the animals are. You just believe them.

The film respects the audience enough to know that not everything (or much of anything in this case) needs to be explained. Even without explanation, it’s emotionally powerful, uplifting, and memorable.

I’d long avoided watching this ur-example of the golden age of westerns because I thought the depiction of Native Americans wouldn’t sit well. But now that I’ve seen it, I realize that they are barely depicted at all. They’re a threat that looms off screen for most of the movie, informing every choice the characters make and building a palpable sense of dread. There’s no discussion of their motivations or whether they might be justified. And when the Apache do attack, it’s a fairly brief and frenetic affair, all galloping horses and gunshots.

It really is a film about the characters in the stagecoach. Each has a flaw. Each has an arc. And they play off of one another beautifully with humor and drama and humanity.

Wild Robot has a lot of heart, and I love a found family story (especially if it has robots). There’s a lot to enjoy about this movie and a lot that works really well.

That said, there’s also a lot that feels unearned and too many plot conveniences. Any not every movie has to have such grand action set pieces. This one would work a little better if they kept the focus on the characters and made sure every action was truly motivated.

A lot of comic strips have been adapted for the big screen, but this is the only one I’ve ever seen that feels exactly like a comic strip. It’s episodic in the extreme, but it’s also charming, unique, and warm hearted.

Duck Soup barely has a plot, the characters are a bit confusing, and a lot of the jokes don’t land. But the jokes that do land are so rib-jostlingly hilarious that it still deserves every accolade it’s ever had.

Having recently read the novel, it’s interesting to revisit the animated film and see how my perspective has changed. Honestly, the film is diminished by the comparison. There are so many beats in the story that lose their weight and meaning because they’ve been compressed so drastically. There’s very little that’s entirely absent, but a bit more cutting might have meant the remaining elements would have more room to develop and build nuance.

Those issues aside, the animation is beautiful, especially the watercolor backgrounds. There are a lot of great visual touches. And it’s still a great story.

It’s hard for me to watch a Dracula movie without comparing it against the novel or the Francis Ford Coppola film, and as much as I love Robert Eggers films, I have to admit that those mental snags did get in the way a little bit. But nonetheless, Eggers’ Nosferatu is monumental.

As any Dracula film is only as successful as the amount of dread and terror it inspires, I have to say this one is suffused with lurking horror in every scene. All the more so because Count Orlock isn’t at all glamorous or sexy or tragic. He is death and decay and inevitability. As he says in the film, “I am an appetite, nothing more.” He scares the bejesus out of me.

What really makes Eggers’ films great is his care for period details and his love of Jungian psychological subtext.

Of course the Weird Al biopic is a parody of a music biopic. And like everything else Al does, it’s pretty darn funny.

Where it works, it’s hilarious. But, like all forms of parody, the trick is to balance the form of the original work with the silliness. In this case, I’d say the elements of biopic films get the upper hand a little too much, and you find yourself at times feeling a little too involved in the straight emotions of the story. There are long scenes of Al sinking into megalomania and despair that have no humor other than the fact that you know they’re not true.

A fun film that could use a bit of editing down.

I really enjoy the rather bleak look at human nature that Suzanne Collins’ gives in her subversive Hunger Games books, and I was delighted when I read this prequel that success hadn’t robbed her of her edge. This film adaptation is very loyal to that text, so it should be an unfettered success.

The thing is, while the movie sticks very close to the plot, there are a thousand little choices and intangibles that dilute how well the message comes across. No one of them alone would have made much of a difference, but added up all together, you find yourself really lacking something.

The really damaging part is that, without a view into the inner thoughts and turmoil of the characters, the ending feels quite rushed and somewhat unmotivated.

I did enjoy the film, but only as a supplement to the excellent novel.

A nice little noir with a bottle setting that telegraphs the fact that it was based on a play. Not as memorable as John Huston’s more epic films, but still a great watch with a strong sense of place, plenty of mood, and an excellent cast (Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, and Lauren Bacall — yes, please). And that’s what’s so great about theater adaptations — the focus on character, motivation, and interpersonal conflict.

I wish we based more movies on plays these days.

Another lame Tim Burton cash grab with none of the charm of the original. Way too much (convoluted) plot. Nothing new to say. And is it me, or is Jenna Ortega a terrible actor?

The only saving grace is that Michael Keaton is still having fun with the role.

The direction is fairly uneven, as is the editing, but this is a rare case where the story is good enough and the actors are fun enough to watch that it’s still really enjoyable. A great send up of trekies and late career television actors.

A movie that both stirs a natural joy in chaos and the warmth of found family—in Hawaii! The script isn’t perfect, but it does a great job of portraying flawed and struggling characters and showing you the value within them.

Funny and absurdist in a way that harkens back to The Hudsucker Proxy and Raising Arizona, without ever ascending quite to those heights. The characters are fun and you root for them, but the plot is less even.

More of the irreverence and silly violence you’ve seen in the previous two films, but for some reason it doesn’t quite land as well for me in this one. Maybe it’s the way multi-verses suck all the dramatic tension out of a situation. Or maybe the schtick is just wearing a bit thin. Cute dog though.

Certainly a landmark of naturalism and psuedo-verité, The French Connection is engrossing and watchable. Still, the tough guy cops with racist slurs on their lips rub me the wrong way often enough to put a damper on my enjoyment.

A simple story about vampires and how they find meaning in an eternal life. I’m sure the hoi polloi would complain that not much happens, but as always, they’d be missing the point.

Great performances, great mood, awesome music.

I saw this movie quite by accident, rashly assuming that it was the new Robert Zemeckis film whose title I couldn’t remember at the time. And it’s fair to say that I am not the intended audience for this sort of romantic tearjerker.

I have to give the movie credit for being reasonably well shot and for the actors bringing a lot of charm and chemistry that elevate the rather cliché plot. That said, I really don’t like that the moral seems to be that following the default life script is admirable and that the preservation of a woman’s breeding potential is worth her very life. Bleach.

Edward is the misunderstood, unfinished part of each of us. Burton’s hyper-suburbia is the perfect place to tell his story. Marvelous.

The scene that exemplifies this movie:

A gremlin finds a jar labeled “Acid, do not throw on face,” immediately throws it in another gremlin’s face. The disfigured second gremlin raises a Phantom of the Opera mask he has at the ready. Priceless.