During the 2010s I started a funny little personal movie-going tradition: making sure to go to a very decidedly non-yuletide movie on Christmas day.  Christmas has of course always been a big movie going day for me (I don’t need to travel for holidays and my family never makes a big deal about it anyway) and somehow Hollywood has consistently managed to supply me with movies to see on the day that are either downright perverse or at the very least contrary to the usual Christmas fare.  Last year my Christmas movie of choice was The Hateful Eight, and previous winners of the honor include Mr. Turner, The Wolf of Wall Street, Django Unchained, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and True Grit.  This year I may have outdone myself, in part Hollywood was a little stingy about their releases this year (although Silence would have been an ideal choice had Paramount not decided to platform it slowly), so I instead I went to the arthouse to see noted provocateur Paul Verhoven’s French language rape-revenge film Elle which if nothing else can definitely be said to be pretty far removed from what most people would consider ideal holiday entertainment.

The film focuses on Michèle Leblanc (Isabelle Huppert), a divorced middle-aged woman who runs a video game development studio in Paris.  In the very first scene of the film a masked man breaks into her hope beats and rapes Michèle in the middle of the day.  That scene is shocking but perhaps not as shocking as the reaction she seems to have to the incident, which is to say she seems oddly undisturbed by it.  She doesn’t go to the police and dismisses the concept of doing so, not out of trauma but because she says it’s “not worth the trouble.”  This isn’t to say she invited the attack or that she is completely undisturbed by it, but the burning anger and trauma you expect doesn’t exactly emerge.  Meanwhile she continues through her daily routines while trying to figure out who her attacker was and prepare for a potential second attack.

The attack at the beginning of the film is not representative of the most common forms of sexual abuse, and the film makes it pretty clear over the course of its runtime that Michèle is not a typical person and her reaction to the attack is not meant to be typical either.  The movie is not really in dialog with the various social and political conversations about rape that have been occurring recently and is really meant to be more of a wild character study.  Michèle is indeed the most interesting aspect of the film.  She’s a character who, attack or no attack, is characterized by a sort of sarcastic remove from her surroundings born of previous traumatic experiences.  She has minimal respect for most of the people in her life from her silly bourgeois friends, to her immature and disrespectful co-workers, to her wacky mother, to her dimwitted son, to his clearly unstable pregnant fiancé.  She’s not exactly wrong in her assessment of any of these people, and yet you get the impression that even if she surrounded herself by a higher caliber of companions that they too would prove unworthy of her high standards.  One could imagine a version of the movie not involving rape which could have a nice bitter little dramedy about a badass chick who manages to rise above the lesser fools bringing her down, and in some way that is what the finished film ended up being but the whole rape thing makes all of this a little harder to comfortably pull off.

This multiplicity of side characters is actually one of the film’s problems.  There are a lot of mediocre white Frenchmen in this woman’s life, perhaps to provide the film with some suspects for who this masked rapist might have been.  It’s one thing to believe that this one woman would be a strange person with a strange background but it’s a little harder to understand why so many of the other people seem to also be so strange.  It could perhaps be said that the film takes place in a sort of heightened world in general but it does get to the point where characters start behaving in ways that are just too strange to connect to and that is especially true of the film’s third act where Michèle’s rapist is revealed and she begins to deal with him in ways that are reminiscent of Liliana Cavani similarly provocative The Night Porter, a classic of provocative cinema which itself left me a little bewildered with its characters’ unusual behavior.  Human reactions to trauma are of course complex, but I wonder if they’re ever really quite as complex as authors and filmmakers like to imagine them being, especially when they’re intentionally trying to dream up wacky scenarios like this.

Elle was directed by Paul Verhoven, a filmmaker previously known for satiric action movies like Robocop as well as sexually charged Hollywood thrillers like Basic Instinct and Showgirls.  He hasn’t had a ton of luck in the 21st Century as he’s a little too Hollywood for Europe and too adventurous for modern Hollywood.  Elle certainly shows some elements of his usual style (including a perverse little acting decision by a cat), but I’m not sure this movie was really the best use of his particular set of skills.  Verhoven is more of a satirist than a provocateur; he’s more interested in finding ways to make his wacky sensibility palatable to the viewer in inventive ways than he is in shoving outrageousness into the viewer’s face.  I can only imagine what something like this would have looked like in the hands of someone like Lars Von Trier, Catherine Breillat, or Gaspar Noe.  I don’t know, this movie is in some weird place where it presses too many buttons to be comfortable but no enough buttons to feel like this really exciting bit of boldness and the end movie just feels kind of strange all around.  I’d like to be able to get on some soapbox and declare that I didn’t like it because of some high-minded principle but really I just think it kind of fails itself in a number of ways and the overall mix just didn’t work for me.

Green Room(4/30/2016)

I have kind of a funny relationship with punk rock, but then so do a lot of its fans.  There is quite a bit of punk rock music I enjoy.  In fact The Clash’s “London Calling” may just be my all-time favorite album of all time.  However, I have absolutely no use for the basic philosophy and ethos that punk rock is based upon and if I met an actual “punk” in real life I’m almost positive I’d hate them.  Anarchy and wild behavior is fun to talk about and fantasize about but there’s really nothing more annoying than someone who indulges every destructive impulse they get.  Of course there are a lot of musical genres that people can enjoy without imitating the ethos that surrounds them: you don’t need to be “hood” to enjoy hip-hop, you don’t need to be a heroin addict to enjoy grunge, and you don’t need to be a dancer to enjoy techno… but those genres don’t tend to be watched over by a vanguard of enthusiasts who are dedicated to policing their ranks of “posers.”  That always seemed kind of strange to me as someone who tends to view pop culture as a window into the human experience rather than as something that one uses to express one’s own identity.  I bring all this up because punk rock is the milieu, though not really the subject, of the new thriller Green Room from Blue Ruin director Jeremy Saulnier.

Green Room follows a modern punk/hardcore band called The Ain’t Rights who are touring the country in a van and living off so little money that they siphon gas from other cars in order to make their trips.  They’re just about at the end of their rope when they arrive in Oregon to play a gig for a local scenester named Tad (David W. Thompson) only to find out that their show has been cancelled.  Feeling guilty, Tad offers to set them up with a quality gig which will get them enough money to return home, the one catch is that the bar they’ll be playing at is mostly patronized by racist skinheads.  The band has had a run-in or two with nazi-punks before and feel they can easily enough stomach their company for an afternoon as long as the gig pays and they can avoid talking politics.  Once they arrive their set goes pretty well despite a couple of rocky moments, but when they return to the club’s green room they stumble upon the body of a woman that one of the skinheads has murdered.  Thus begins a standoff between the band and an older skinhead named Darcy Banker (Patrick Stewart) who owns the club and seems to be leading this “movement” of rowdy skinheads with the band forced to lock themselves in the club’s green room until they can find some way to escape with their lives.

Green Room is being marketed as a horror movie, and while some of the more brutal violence in it would be at home in that genre it would probably be better classified as a grisly little thriller along the lines of something like Deliverance or Straw Dogs.  The fact that this plotline deals with modern racist skinheads would seem to suggest that it has something to say about the nature of hate or about race relations in America, but I don’t think that’s really the case.  There’s a certain genre morality that can be gleaned from the fact that these characters are essentially being punished for momentarily tolerating the company of white supremacists, but for the most part I think the film would be largely unchanged if the bad guys here had been a biker gang or something, the racism mostly just seems to have been added so that the audience will instantly view them has villains and to be on board with the movie once said villain start being brutally killed later in the movie.

To me that feels like a bit of a cheat.  In a movie like this we should be rooting for our heroes because they are likable and because you genuinely want to see them make it out of their predicament, not because their tormentors wear Doc Martins and shave their heads.  Unfortunately we don’t really get a whole lot of time to get to know these people before they’re tossed in the pressure cooker.  The movie starts off well enough in its depiction of this band’s life on the road and the brief glimpses we get of what it’s like to be a dead broke rock band on tour are enticing.  I maybe would have liked to see this section play out a bit longer in order to give you a little more time to get to know these bandmates individually.  Hell, I maybe would have rather seen an entire movie about their rock tour sans the genre twist.  Alternately I might have found some interest in a more sober and straightforward examination of the world of this white supremacist punk bar.  In some ways the movie reminds me a bit of The Purge in that it’s a film that finds a potentially interesting setting and concept and then simply devolves into a run of the mill siege movie.

As it stands, the movie is largely dependent on its execution as a pure genre piece which to me was certainly strong but not strong enough to make up for its general hollowness.  The film’s cinematography is good, although I must say it was slightly compromised for me by the fact that the theater I watched it in wasn’t dark enough to really give the right atmosphere, not that that’s the movie’s fault.  Saulnier also does give certain scenes a reasonable amount of tension but not to any earth shattering degree and I was oddly unmoved and unshocked whenever one of the film’s protagonists was felled.  Overall it just seemed well made but forgettable, which in retrospect is pretty much what I thought of Blue Ruin.  I do think Jeremy Saulnier has talent and I do look forward to what he does next, but next time he picks a color and a word that begins with “R” I hope he can produce something a bit more meaningful to do it with.

Knight of Cups(3/19/2016)

Not too long ago the release of a new Terrance Malick film was a rare and special thing.  Even if you ignore his famous twenty year hiatus between Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line it remained the case that you were likely to wait at least five years in-between each one of his efforts.  But it seems something has changed because just two years after his much beloved The Tree of Life he managed to release a brand new movie called To the Wonder in (by his standards) record time and now just a few years after that he’s come out with another new movie called Knight of Cups.  The big question of course is whether or not these long stretches in-between movies were in fact necessary to Malick’s creative process or whether they were simply unfortunate droughts worth filling in with new product.  To many To the Wonder suggested that this sped up schedule was not doing him any favors, but I was not among them.  I wouldn’t say that was his best film, in fact it was probably his weakest up to that point, but I did quite like it and thought it was a worthy companion piece to The Tree of Life.  Unfortunately I’m not so sure I can say the same about this latest movie in his newly expedited slate of films, in fact I’m not really sure what to make of it at all.

The film is set in present day Los Angeles, specifically Hollywood, and focuses on a man named Rick (Christian Bale) who I had assumed was a movie star but who the various online plot descriptors say is actually a screenwriter.  Yeah, that’s the level of non-narrative abstraction we’re dealing with in this time around.  The film is divided into eight segments, each one roughly dealing with his brief interactions with a handful of other people, many of them having had some sort of relation to him in his past.  We meet his brother (Wes Bentley), his father (Brian Dennehy), his current friend/lover (Imogen Poots), his ex-wife (Cate Blanchett), another ex-flame (Natalie Portman), and various other Los Angeles denizens like a decadent millionaire (Antonio Banderas).

Malick’s career can pretty easily be put into two stages.  The first stage goes from his debut film Badlands goes through his first four films and reaches its crescendo with The New World.  These films basically take a concept that easily could be turned into a standard Hollywood project (a serial killer and his lover on the run, the battle of Guadalcanal, the Pocahontas story, etc.) and then tackle it using his signature ethereal style in order to make it feel wholly different than it would have.  Then with 2011’s The Tree of Life he kind of reinvented himself in terms of content if not style.  Rather than focusing on a story with a high concept of sorts, that movie brought the Malick touch to a very down to earth story about a boy’s coming of age in the 1950s and this trend continued into 2013’s To the Wonder which was primarily about a rocky relationship between a man and a woman.  At the end of the day both movies were about very common situations that everyone can relate to on some level.  Knight of Cups, by contrast, is trying to do much the same thing but instead of focusing on relatively universal situations it is focusing on what it’s like to be a wealthy show business figure surrounded by obscene wealth and beautiful women at all times and that is… not something everyone gets a chance to experience.  This is of course where I think we start to run into problems.  When those other movies skipped over the conventional exposition and explanation that most movies would give you audiences were still able to follow along to some extent because the situations were so familiar.  Here not so much.

To make matters worse Malick has, if anything, increased the level of abstraction here to the point of it bordering on incoherence.  There isn’t really a story here as such.  If anything it seems to be designed as a character study of the Christian Bale character but the movie is so dearth of conventional dialogue that we barely get to know him at all.  I think the idea is to give us an idea of what he’s like based on his relationship to all the other characters, but his interactions with them are so brief and impressionistic that we only get the vaguest idea of who they are and what his past is with them.  We get that there’s some sort of strife between his family members, that his marriage to the Cate Blanchett character didn’t work out, that he somehow wronged the Natalie Portman character, but I don’t think there’s enough there to really hang a movie on.  The signature Malick voice-overs aren’t much of a help either as they are even less on point than usual and often take the form of literal poems rather than concrete ideas and the chronology of the whole film is also all over the place.

Malick is, as usual, a visual stylist worth taking note of and his imagery often remains quite beautiful although it never quite had the same bite here as it did in his last couple of films. Emmanuel Lubezki returns as his cinematographer and while his and Malick’s eye for beautiful framings a and seemingly weightless camera movements remain just as impactful as ever the raw cinematography here felt a little more digital and bland than it has in the past.  At times some of the imagery felt a little more indulgent than it has in the past as well, as if Malick came up with a laundry list of interesting shots he wanted to get and then made sure they all ended up in the movie one way or another.  On an intellectual level I kind of get what he’s doing.  Malick has spent much of his career bringing out the beauty in nature through his camera work, but throughout his career he has shown a similar level of awe towards man-made creations whether its his treatment of 17th Century England in the last act of The New World or his admiration of Urban Texas during the Sean Penn portions of The Tree of Life.  This is in many ways a film that’s trying to focus more in on his perspective of modern urban life in both its beauty and occasional ugliness and in this way it is a valuable inclusion into his larger body of work… I just wish he had found a better way to do it.

The film takes its title from a tarot card called “The Knight of Cups” and there are various title cards along the way that assign other tarot cards to various characters.  Wikipedia tells me that according to standard tarot divination the Knight of Cups represents “a person who is a bringer of ideas, opportunities and offers. He is constantly bored, and in constant need of stimulation, but also artistic and refined. He represents a person who is amiable, intelligent, and full of high principles, but a dreamer who can be easily persuaded or discouraged.”  That sounds like an interesting person, and if I look back at the film I suppose I could apply those attributes to its central character if I wanted to, but I kind of wish the film itself had made those character traits known to me in the actual text rather than some riddle that I have to look up by googling the film’s title.  I’m a pretty hardcore Malick defender, the kind of person who loved To the Wonder and think The New World is somewhere in the director’s top three but with Knight of Cups he’s finally found a level of abstraction and general aimlessness that I can’t even get behind and defend.  There are hints of a solid Malick film that seem to be hidden beneath some of the obliqueness of the whole thing that I wish could break free, but at the same time I almost kind of wonder if Malick should have given up any pretense of storytelling and just gone full-on Koyaanisqatsi with this thing. Either way, I can’t say that I got out of it what I wanted and I’m hoping that Malick maybe slows down a bit before he tries to push this style even further into depths of the unintelligibility.


Hail Caesar(2/14/2016)

The Coen brothers have been on such a great winning streak for the last 10+ years that it’s almost hard to remember that they were in some pretty dire straits in the early 2000s.  In 2003 and 2004 they released two films, Intolerable Cruelty and The Ladykillers, which were considered back to back failures both commercially and critically.  In the grand scheme of things I wouldn’t call either of those movies terrible and actually kind of enjoy Intolerable Cruelty for what it is, but it certainly looked like the Coens were losing their touch and were perhaps on the outs.  Fortunately they were able to take a three year break, regroup, and come out with their Academy Award winning triumph No Country for Old Men.  Since then they’ve everything they’ve put out has at least been a critical triumph and some of them have even made pretty decent box office.  All good things do come to an end however, and there were a lot of signs pointing to their latest movie Hail, Caesar being the film that broke the winning streak.  The film’s early February release date was certainly a bad sign, but really it’s the trailer that had me worried as it had exactly the same retro celebrity driven tone that those early 2000s failures had.  I’d like to say I was wrong in my suspicious, but alas I think they’ve turned out to be correct.

Set in 1951 Hollywood, the title Hail Caesar refers to a film that is being made at a fictional movie studio called Capitol Pictures which is being overseen by an executive named Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin) who is pondering whether or not to leave the movie industry to get a cushy job at Lockheed.  While deciding this he finds himself juggling a bunch of crisis all at once.  One of his leading ladies (Scarlett Johansson) is pregnant and he needs to find a way to either conceal this or find someone for her to get into a sham marriage with fast in order to avoid a scandal.  Meanwhile he’s trying to convert one of his B-western stars (Alden Ehrenreich) into the leading man of an upscale comedy of manners despite his thick Texan accent, much to the consternation of his director (Ralph Fiennes).  Worst of all, the star of his titular huge budget Roman epic (George Clooney) has disappeared from the set and appears to have been kidnapped by a communist cell called The Future, and a pair of sibling reporters (both played by Tilda Swinton) seems to be on to all this trouble.

Though it has a very different tone, Hail Caesar actually has certain structural similarities to the Coen Brothers’ 2009 film A Serious Man and their 2012 film Inside Llewyn Davis in that all three films look at men who are in the midst of spiritual and/or personal crises and are trying to decide what the next direction in their lives will be.  Where A Serious Man was plainly Jewish in its outlook and Inside Llewyn Davis had a sort of Buddist quality in the way it cycled in on itself, this one would seem to be looking at aspects of Christianity or at the very lease gentility.  It is notable that Eddie Mannix is a practicing Catholic in the movie, especially given that most studio executives in the 50s were Jewish.  Additionally, the film that he’s making is clearly modeled after 50s sword and sandals movies like Quo Vidas and The Robe in that it was openly dealing with the Christ story, but doing so in a very superficial and cynical way in order to sell it to middle America.  I am not, however, sure exactly what the Coens were trying to say about Mannix’ Catholicism as this film is a bit muddled and easily distracted.  Mannix certainly seems sincere in his beliefs as he seems to go to confession every day, possibly because he’s constantly dealing with the tawdry scandals that his movie stars get into but he also feels he needs to assemble holy men in order to know whether or not his film is theologically sound.

Perhaps I’m reading too much into the spiritual elements of the film and should concern myself more with what the Coens are trying to say about 50s Hollywood, namely that it probably wasn’t the golden age we all like to think it is.  It’s notable that every one of the fake films within the film looks awful.  The title movie is a bloated and empty expensive tentpole, the Alden Ehrenreich character goes from being in a moronic B-western to being in a pretentious drawing room movie that only feigns at sophistication, and elsewhere we see people making cookie cutter musicals that only exist because other similar movies made money.  What’s more, the film shows that celebrities were just as capable of being vain and scandal-ridden in the past as they are now and that people were as vapidly obsessed with tabloid stuff then as they are now.  Of course this is far from the first movie to point any of this out and I’m also not exactly sure where the sub-plot about the communist cell comes in, firstly because this sub-plot kind of suggests that Joe McCarthy had good reason to be worried about Hollywood and secondly because it hardly seems to play into Mannix’s inner conflict at all aside from the fact that it gives him another crisis to clean up.

So ultimately I can’t say I got a lot out of Hail Caesar thematically, but that would have been alright if it simply worked as a comedy.  Unfortunately I can’t say I found the movie all that funny.  To be fair, very few of the Coens’ pure comedies have really been on my wavelength, pretty much the only ones that have really made me laugh all that uproariously in the past have been The Big Lebowski and Burn After Reading while others like Raising Arizona and The Hudsucker Proxy have at best left me with a certain dry amusement.  “Dry amusement” probably describes what I felt during the better moments in Hail Caesar.  There were certainly some scenes and moments in the movie I enjoyed.  The film’s parodies of old Hollywood films are certainly fun, especially an innuendo laden musical number featuring a cameo by Channing Tatum, but the film would have benefited greatly from an injection of faster screwball pacing.  So, what we’re left with is a movie that is simply not deep enough and not fun enough to really be a satisfying Coen Brothers product by any measure.  Having said all that, a Coen Brothers movie is a Coen brothers movie and even their misfires are going to be a little watchable but this is definitely one of their worst.



As sure as the seasons change and the sun rises, popular music genres will almost always shift and sway.  Jazz gave way to rock, rock gave way to hip hop, and it looks increasingly like hip hop is in decline today.  Make no mistake, Eminem and Jay-Z aren’t going anywhere but when I look at the mainstream rap scene I see a lot to worry about.  Honestly the whole genre kind of feels like it’s about to get stuck in a rut in much the same way mainsteam rock stagnated after the demise of gunge and the rise of the Nickelbacks of the world.  The big question is “what music is going to fill that void?” and increasingly the answer seems to be EDM (Electronic Dance Music).  EDM hasn’t really become a radio format and we’re still not quite at a point where someone like Deadmau5 can just put one of his noisy instrumental tracks out and get massive radio airplay, but by collaborating with pop singers DJs have become a commercial force to be reckoned with. At this very moment Skrillix, Diplo, David Guetta, and DJ Snake are all in the Billboard top 20 and other EDM DJs like Calvin Harris and Avicii have had monumental hits as of late, not to mention Daft Punk’s massive Grammy winning comeback album “Random Access Memories” two years ago.  One could easily make the mistake of thinking this music just came out of nowhere, but that obviously isn’t the case.  This is a genre that has had a long history, and the new movie Eden seeks to explore one aspect of that history.

The film begins in the early 90s in Paris where a young man named Paul (Félix de Givry) is attending a party at a club when he and another electronic music enthusiast named Stan (Hugo Conzelmann) decide to form a Garage duo called “Cheers,” setting off two decades of up and down success in the Paris club scene.  The film follows Paul as he establishes his niche following in Paris, briefly tours New York and Chicago, only to eventually find the toll of years in the clubs take their toll on him.  Women come in and out of his life, he dabbles in drugs, and his relationship with his family becomes increasingly rocky as he pursues his dream.

Going into the film I had thought that I was a little more knowledgeable about EDM than the average person because I had some Daft Punk and Moby on my iPod, but it quickly became apparent just how much of a neophyte I was about the music, especially once I realized that I had no idea what the difference between Garage and House music was.  Unfortunately I don’t think the movie did a whole lot to make me understand or really connect with the music on a deeper level.  In fact it kind of failed to really establish what goes into being a DJ.  We certainly see a number of shots of Paul setting records on turntables and slowly moving them in semi-circles before letting it play, but it’s not overly clear how much he’s altering and re-mixing the songs while at the DJ table and it’s never overly clear what “Cheers” is doing to advance the scene.  If the film had been about a struggling rock band or folk singer rather than a DJ I doubt that the narrative or even the flavor of the film would have been all that different.

The movie’s bigger sin though is that it’s a character study about a character just that didn’t strike me as a wildly interesting subject.  I’m sure there’s a certain truth to the way the film depicts Paul’s rise to low level local fame and eventual self-destruction, but the film didn’t really do a whole lot to argue for the story’s importance.  Part of this may have been Félix de Givry’s performance, which struck me as rather bland and the film didn’t do a great job of aging the character over the course of the film’s twenty year span (though I’m not unsympathetic with the challenges of conveying the subtle aging process that people go through between the ages of 16 and 36 through makeup).  I feel like a rise and fall narrative like this could have been made more impactful if it had been told with the energy and style of something like Boogie Nights or perhaps with the melancholy of something like Inside Llewyn Davis but Mia Hansen-Løve shoots the film in a rather disappointingly understated way that never really propels the story.  The film definitely has interesting moments but as a whole it just doesn’t really justify itself.

** out of Four

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl(6/20/2015)

I’ve never been to a film festival but from the sidelines I have a pretty good idea of which ones matter.  Toronto and its younger cousin telluride are obviously important as a launching pads for Award Season prestige fare, and the European festivals like Cannes, Venice, and Berlin are amazing founts of ambitious auteur driven works of art.  Then there’s Sundance, which to my (admittedly uninformed) eyes seems like the most over-rated of all film festivals.  The festival, which all too often seems to reward scrappiness over artistry and this lowered standard has in many ways seemed to retard American independent cinema.  Still, every year at least one movie from the festival is deemed “the one to see” and more often than not that film does indeed end up being part of the conversation.  This “it” movie is almost never something truly great; at best it will just be something solidly made if slightly conventional like Whiplash at worst it will be an “independent” movie with super-mainstream ambitions and very few original ideas like Little Miss Sunshine.  This year the “it” movie was Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, a movie which isn’t quite a textbook example of a “Sundancey” movie but which is certainly emblematic of pretty much everything else that is wrong with American independent cinema.

The film focuses on a high school senior named Greg Gaines (Thomas Mann) who feels disconnected with most of the cliques in his high school and who spends most of his time hanging out with his friend Earl (Ronald Cyler II).  When Greg’s mother (Connie Britton) learns that a girl named Rachel (Olivia Cooke), who Greg is very loosely acquainted with, has been diagnosed with leukemia and insists that Greg go and visit her.  Greg rightly believes that such a meeting would be really awkward but goes anyway after his mother nags him enough.  The visit is pretty tense at first but over time the two become friends, which is of course a rather troubling prospect given that Rachel is… well, a dying girl.  Eventually a mutual friend of Greg and Rachel’s suggest that he use his filmmaking knowledge to make a movie for Rachel as a means of lifting her spirits, a task that he finds rather interminable given his general perfectionism.

Wes Anderson comparisons get thrown around rather recklessly from time to time.  Basically he seems to get “credit” for seemingly every supposedly cute but actually annoying indie trope that seems to catch on, even the ones that don’t actually turn up in any of his movies.  I’d heard that this movie was a different, but as the movie started and it went into a random claymation/papier-mâché sequence with a tossed off reference to Pussy Riot I sort of groaned and thought, “yep, it’s another one of these.”  The movie certainly has its share of those generic indie quirks that Anderson gets unfairly blamed for but it is also definitely a bona fide Anderson ripoff when it comes to its visual style, especially in its first half.  As for those more generic indie tropes?  Well from an aesthetic perspective there are the sarcastic title cards and the self-aware voice over.  On more a narrative level there’s the fact that this is yet another auto-biographical coming of age story (albeit with the autobiographical elements seemingly coming from writer Jesse Andrews rather than director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon) which takes place in a vaguely heightened and quirky world filled with smart young people of the kind that certain literary types like to think they were at that age.

What’s more, while Greg and Rachel’s relationship does not become romantic I’d argue that she is still a manic pixie of some variety.  The movie ultimately isn’t all that concerned with her as a character beyond her effect on the lead, and while there’s nothing inherently wrong with a movie being told from a limited perspective the fact of the matter is that these “manic pixies” are such an indie cliché at this point that it really just kind of ups the eye-rolling quotient for the film.  It kind of feels like all of these movies are trying real hard to be the voice of a generation but, I don’t know, I kind of wonder if they’re really kind of the voice of the last generation at this point.  Bottle Rocket came out in the February of 1996, which means that we are less than a year away from the Wes Anderson aesthetic being twenty years old, and yet the indie community still hasn’t moved on to some other more original cultural idea, and you can kind of see this in the stale way the film depicts its teenage characters.  For example, Greg goes to a high school that still has goths in it as a major sub-culture.  Are goths still a thing?  They certainly weren’t when I was in high school over a decade ago, and yet they still show up here.  And while Greg does notably have an iPhone you don’t really hear a word in the movie about Facebook or Skype or any of the other technologies that almost certainly would have impacted the kind of relationship depicted in the film.

What’s annoying about all this is that, handled a little differently, I feel like this would have been a pretty serviceable if still not overly original little movie.  This is, after all, a movie about a relative high school loner who can’t relate to the people in the various high school cliques and finds himself obsessively interested in highbrow cinema that none of his peers seem to care about… I can relate to that… but the movie exists under such a veil of unreality that it kind of cancels out whatever would seem familiar.  Besides, the whole cinephillia aspect of the character seems pretty insincere anyway.  We see that Greg owns a lot of memorabilia related to foreign cinema and occasionally see him and Earl watching these films, but we never see him actually talk about any of these movies and nothing about the character seems to really be informed by any sort of profound interest in the art of cinema.  Really the movie only seems to have included this character trait as yet another indie quirk and as a reason for the movie to include clips from a bunch of classic films that he and Earl have “Sweded” (yeah, the movie does move away from ripping off Wes Anderson just long enough to rip off Michel Gondry).

Honestly, I’m not sure how I would have reacted to this movie if it existed in a vacuum.  Maybe I would have liked it a lot more if I hadn’t felt like I’d already seen it 50 million times already.   It’s possible that I hate the movie more for what it represents than what it actually is, but dammit I’m tired of this shit I have to stop letting myself get punkd into seeing stuff like this.  I managed to avoid previous indulgent autobiographical coming of age movies like The Perks of Being a Wallflower, The Kings of Summer, The Spectacular Now, and The Way Way Back, but somehow I got suckered into this one.  Maybe it was because Sundance’s Dramatic Jury prize had actually done a pretty good job of breaking away from their usual nonsense the last couple of years I let my guard down.  Maybe I’ll revisit the film years down the line when this trend is finally over and it will look better to me, I don’t know, but from where I sit now I really just couldn’t get behind it.

** out of Four