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Nightcrawler
Sunday, November 2nd, 2014—FilmNightcrawler (USA 2014, Crime/Drama/Thriller), Writer/Director: Dan Gilroy
Just in time for Halloween, Nightcrawler brings us the ghoulish Lou Bloom, a thief-turned-snuff-filmmaker (okay, technically, turned freelance videographer who captures overnight carnage for the morning news) whose creepy exterior hides an even scarier inner demon. This haunted creature is all about the tricks; fortunately, the film itself is a skillfully made, thought-provoking treat—as long as you like hard candy.
When Nightcrawler opens, Lou (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a petty thief skulking around Los Angeles after hours, snipping chain link fences and scrounging for valuable trinkets. But when he stumbles on a bloody car crash and sees videographers (or “stringers”) snapping up the footage, he discovers his true calling.
Lou sells his footage to Nina Romina (Rene Russo), the news director at a struggling TV station, whose vulnerable tenure makes her an ideal target for Lou’s exploits and exploitations. Before long, he climbs the slippery ladder of success—never mind if he has to crush a few fingers (or throats) along the way; in fact, so much better.
Whether he’s slinking past police DO NOT CROSS barriers or breaking moral boundaries, Lou quickly proves there really is no line he won’t cross. And it works; with hard work, ruthless dedication and a little bloodlust, anyone can make it in today’s world. Welcome to the American Nightmare.
Nightcrawler offers its own grisly exposé on a number of news items, all with its particular brand of dark, satirical humour. There’s the shaky economy, in which unpaid interns and underpaid workers abound, not to mention the criminals who hire them. Lou fast-talks derelict Rick (Riz Ahmed) into becoming his assistant for a meager $30 per night—a “raise” that brings a smile of relief to the poor man’s face. Nightcrawler also preys on our collective taste for the sensational and our obsession with the media. The more graphic Lou’s footage gets, the higher Nina’s ratings soar; as they say, “If it bleeds, it leads.”
The film portrays a world in darkness. I mean that literally; most of Nightcrawler takes place at night, when creatures like Lou slink out of hiding to go on the prowl. But more than that, the film depicts a world in which nearly everyone is susceptible to corruption, and where life is so grim that people look to escape from the growing darkness in any way they can. Even if it means watching news segments that brutally depict human tragedy, and human depravity, in gross detail.
In Nightcrawler’s world, no one is more depraved than Lou himself. Yet he has crafted his identity from the influences of the world at large—from the rest of us. A sociopath looking to fill his emptiness, he gleans his identity from the Internet. He admits he never had much of a formal education, but believes “you can find most anything if you look hard enough.” So he’s an autodidact, with the Web is his primary thesis advisor.
In many an aggressive monologue, Lou doles out catchphrases and motivational jargon, dredging up pat philosophies and self-help mantras to justify just about all his actions. But for all his talk, he can’t conceal the hollowness at his core.
Lou speaks volumes when he delivers the film’s opening line: “I’m lost.” He’s gone off course, and so has the world he’s trying to manipulate.
More than lost, Lou is also hungry. I heard an interview in which Gyllenhaal describes his character as a coyote: vicious and predatory, in search of his next meal. You can see Gyllenhaal’s artistic choice in his performance; in the way Lou sidles up to others inappropriately, gauging their reactions, getting as close as he can, unperturbed when they try to shoo him off. Okay, so Lou Bloom’s embodiment of a coyote is more than a little deranged, maybe even rabid. But you get the idea; he’s a creature of the night, and he’s out for the kill.
It’s a transformative performance from Gyllenhaal, who seems intent on pushing the boundaries of his art and craft (see Enemy, Prisoners and If There Is I Haven’t Found It Yet). With Nightcrawler, he’s definitely reached another level in an already impressive career. His misanthropic, psychopathic Lou is as convincing as he is horrifying.
Gyllenhaal is backed by stellar performances from the entire cast, including a pitch-perfect Russo who eerily steers Nina over a rather disturbing character arc, as well as an outstanding Ahmed, and a compelling Bill Paxton as competing videographer Joe Loder. But there’s no question that Nightcrawler belongs to Gyllenhaal—and of course to writer/director Dan Gilroy, who envisioned it all and who makes a staggering directorial debut, after penning flicks such as Real Steel and The Bourne Legacy.
Kudos to all on a great film, and thanks for the thrills and chills; I couldn’t have asked for a better Halloween treat.
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Thanks also to GC and NC for the company and the candy!
Gone Girl
Thursday, October 16th, 2014—FilmGone Girl (USA 2014, Drama/Mystery/Thriller), Writer: Gillian Flynn; Director: David Fincher
[Spoiler Alert: I touch on some of the film’s pivotal plot points, although I keep the ending itself a bit vague. Unless you’ve read the book, you may want to see Gone Girl before reading this entry. If not, consider yourself warned.]
I haven’t read Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl, the book on which David Fincher’s latest film is based. From what I gather, the book contains many of the elements I found lacking in the movie, so maybe it would be best if I read the novel before writing this review. But I’m not sure when I’ll get to it, and given that it’s been nearly four months since my last confession—just kidding, my last blog entry—I’m going for it.
In the film, Gone Girl examines what happens when Amy Dunne (Rosamund Pike) goes missing on her fifth wedding anniversary to Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck), and fingers start pointing at her husband.
I’ll just come out with it: I didn’t love the movie as much as most people seem to. That’s not to say there isn’t a lot to admire about Gone Girl. It’s skillfully shot, and features a buffet of solid performances, including one of Affleck’s strongest, and another stellar turn from Pike, who always impresses (see Barney’s Version). Fincher has a particular gift for drawing out greatness from his actors.
The director also has the smarts to keep collaborating with artists who can deliver. Fincher brings his The Social Network and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo composers, Trent Reznor and Attitus Ross, back to score Gone Girl, adding an extra layer of creepiness. (I’m playing the soundtrack while writing this and it’s really affecting my mood.)
Technically and artistically, Gone Girl gets a lot right. My issues with the film have more to do with the story itself and the messages it presents.
From the opening shot of the back of Amy’s head (which plays out as Nick explains in voiceover that he often thinks of cracking open her skull to see what really goes on in her mind) and the film’s abrupt conclusion, you get the impression that Gone Girl purports to explore how marriage, or merely coupledom, perverts us as people, makes us put on masks and pretend to be something other than what we truly are—or even want to be. But much of the rest of the film undermines that notion, treading instead into murky and even dangerous waters that have a sexist undertow, and that made me more than a little uncomfortable.
[Again, SPOILER ALERT!]
As Nick and the police piece together what could have happened to Amy, we learn that she staged her abduction, and presumed murder, to frame her husband as a means of revenge for his cheating (and generally ruining her life, as she sees it).
In some ways, Gone Girl appears to explore the way women are trapped into fulfilling ideas of who they’re supposed to become, for their partners, their parents, and society at large. There is a strong case to be made there, but in this case, I’m not buying it.
If we’re going to have a strong female character who bucks the trend and wants to take over the reins on a system that tries to manipulate her, why does she have to be a homicidal lunatic with antisocial personality disorder? It would be nice to see that strong woman as someone who can’t so easily be discredited.
It’s interesting that Flynn adapted her own novel for the screen. I’d like to know what direction she was given on which parts to remove for the script, and why efforts were made to align the audience’s sympathies more with Nick than with Amy. My elder sister, who read the book and saw the movie, says the novel portrays both Nick and Amy as sociopathic, rather than casting Nick as the victim, and creates a more believable scenario in which they could stay together as a couple. For me, that plausibility is sorely lacking in the film.
As it becomes clear that Amy staged her abduction, is also comes to light that this isn’t her first time up to bat. She has a history of manipulating and framing men, including fabricating a rape to set up an ex-boyfriend. So she certainly isn’t above contriving domestic abuse at Nick’s hand, via false diary entries left for police to discover (all part of a wedding anniversary treasure hunt, an ode to marital romps gone awry; it’s all fun and games until someone stages a kidnapping and murder).
Amy’s actions are among the ugliest a woman can commit; they discredit the many women who legitimately claim abuse, and malign men who aren’t guilty—at least not of the vile crimes she accuses them.
Last year’s excellent Danish film The Hunt offers a far more sensitive exploration of a man falsely accused, and takes pains to look at why those accusations might come about without any real malice. Then again, that film examines very different sociological phenomena than Fincher’s thriller.
In Gone Girl, it seems as if we’re meant to follow along as the filmmakers investigate gender roles, as well as the very fabric of marriage itself. But their investigation lacks substance, and the emphasis on Amy’s “evil,” for lack of a better word, doesn’t help the cause.
There are fleeting examples of Nick’s father being a misogynist, but his role feels like an underdeveloped holdover from the novel. Nick’s mother has passed away, so we don’t get to see his parents’ dynamic. Maybe Nick’s father’s behaviour is meant to imply that history repeats itself in Nick and Amy—and that Nick will go on to become his father—but the film has too many other storylines to pursue, and that one falls by the wayside.
Amy’s parents factor in more prominently. Their hugely successful book series, Amazing Amy, is based on Amy herself, hijacking her life for profit (not to mention passive-aggressively shaming her for not living up to expectations). Her parents “improve upon” her milestones; real-life Amy quits the violin, so fictional Amy sticks with the instrument and turns out to be a prodigy. Perhaps worst of all, fictional Amy walks down the aisle in Amazing Amy and the Big Day, while regular ol’ Amy remains unmarried into her 30s.
That kind of family dysfunction goes a long way toward explaining adult Amy, and I would have liked to see it better dissected. (There isn’t time, though; Gone Girl is already too long and crams in too much.) But it seems clear that it’s Amy’s parents, not her husband, who set her down the path of striving for impossible standards, constantly wrestling with the knowledge that she can never be good enough.
Again, this might also be a case of history doomed to repeat itself, but the impact of Amy’s parents’ marriage and how it distorted their child, as opposed to their parenting itself, isn’t properly examined. I suspect this is better explored in the book, but for now, I can only go by the film, and it doesn’t make a clear case for her parents’ marriage as a culprit in Amy’s dark ways.
What is clear is that Nick and Amy’s marriage never stood a chance. Aside from Amy’s falsified account of Nick’s abuse, his only real affront against her is being unfaithful. He comes across as a good-enough guy who hit rock bottom when he and Amy lost their jobs, and didn’t adjust well when they had to relocate to the burbs when his mother got ill. (The only exception is a brief moment of violence at the end of the movie, but that comes as a result of Amy’s heinous manipulations and murderous ways, so can’t be used to justify her behaviour.)
Amy, on the other hand, distorts the truth and deliberately misrepresents herself from the beginning. She acknowledges that she played the role of “Cool Girl”—a woman who waxes her nether regions and “eats cold pizza while remaining a size 2”—because she knew right away that was the kind of girl Nick wanted. Yes, that is one of the roles imposed on women in our culture, but here, Amy uses it to her advantage, manipulating Nick to get what she wants and dooming their relationship by rooting it in falsity. Becoming “Cool Girl” was her deception; it hardly seems fair to blame that on men or marriage, particularly when she never gave Nick the opportunity to know the “real” her (if Amy even knows who that is).
Speaking of prescribed roles for women, it’s telling that Nick’s affair is with his barely-legal student Andie, who fits perfectly into the “busty and libidinous co-ed” category. Adding even more pack to the punch (or insult to injury?), Andie is played by Emily Ratajkowski, who starred in Robin Thicke’s frightening and asinine display of sexism and ignorance, otherwise known as Blurred Lines (see my Don Jon review for more on this). I don’t know if her casting was a deliberate reference to the objectification of women, but regardless, it’s hard not to reflect on that, given the context.
So Andie is played by Ratajkowski, Nick is played by Amy, Amy is (eventually and briefly) played by Nick, the public is played by the media; in Gone Girl, everyone gets played. But Amy clearly emerges as the winner, and I think that’s a problem. With the Dunnes—with men and women—positioned as rivals rather than partners, there’s no room for equality or respect. It’s a dangerous game, and not one I want to play.
If Gone Girl is meant to explore and expose gender issues and societal expectations, it needs to present a more balanced scenario—one that doesn’t victimize Nick or vilify Amy. The film starts with a fascinating premise, and maybe the book does a better job of exploring it. But as the movie shows it, there’s too much emphasis on the thriller side of the narrative, and not enough insightful reflection on marriage, gender roles, and how both men and women perpetuate stereotypes. Instead, Gone Girl presents a problematic dynamic between a man and a woman; or really, between Amy and anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path.
It isn’t even that I didn’t like the film. It’s that its depiction of Amy is so disturbing and potentially harmful, and that it wastes an opportunity to present a more balanced and perceptive exploration of gender expectations and relationships.
Gone Girl was produced by Reese Witherspoon’s company Pacific Standard, which is also behind the upcoming Wild, another adaptation of a woman’s novel, though this time autobiographical (and one I’m really looking forward to seeing, at Cinemablographer’s wholehearted endorsement). I saw a clip of Witherspoon endorsing the two films and saying that she plans to continue depicting such strong female characters. Let’s hope that in the future, they’re less vindictive, sadistic and manipulative than Amy.
* * *
In tribute to the greatness of Reznor and Ross’ soundtrack, a couple other musical references…
It was Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Brilliant Disguise’ that ultimately prompted me to write a review of Gone Girl:
I want to read your mind
To know just what I’ve got in this new thing I’ve found
So tell me what I see
When I look in your eyes
Is that you baby
Or just a brilliant disguise
I want to know if it’s you I don’t trust
‘Cause I damn sure don’t trust myself
Now you play the loving woman
I’ll play the faithful man
But just don’t look too close
Into the palm of my hand
We stood at the altar
The gypsy swore our future was bright
But come the wee wee hours
Well maybe baby the gypsy lied
So when you look at me
You better look hard and look twice
Is that me baby
Or just a brilliant disguise
And another reference, regarding women who turn conventions on their heads: Tori Amos’ album Strange Little Girls, covering and repurposing a series of songs written by men. Here’s her take on I’m Not In Love by 10cc.
Fab YYC expands to form Fabulous Alberta project
Friday, August 22nd, 2014—NewsIn developing Fab YYC, Kickass Canadian Yiorgos Boudouris received so many great stories from Calgary’s LGBTQ community that he realized he wanted to expand the boundaries of his initiative. So he morphed Fab YYC into the Fabulous Alberta project, which will feature the 15 Calgarians already captured (in writing by me, and by stunning photography from Kelly Hofer), as well as 85 more subjects from across Alberta’s LGBTQ community.
To learn more or to support the project, check out Yiorgos’ Kickstarter campaign. You can also read about Fabulous Alberta in today’s Calgary Herald article on Kelly.
Very excited to see how this evolves! And so proud to be involved.
SNAPS for CARE sells out in 2.5 weeks
Tuesday, July 22nd, 2014—NewsAs of July 22, 2014, all six SNAPS for CARE canvas prints were sold, bringing in $1,200 for CARE Canada. Thank you to our generous supporters, and of course to our sponsors: Petit Bill’s Bistro, CanvasPop and The Cupcake Lounge.
Check out the SNAPS for CARE write-up for details on the fundraiser and to see snapshots of our Re-Seasoning Supper, with Kickass Canadian Cynthia Bland.
Thrilled to judge Ottawa edition of 48 Hour Film Project
Wednesday, July 16th, 2014—NewsIt was my honour and pleasure to serve as a judge for the latest edition of the Ottawa 48 Hour Film Project. Very exciting to be one of the first to see the local shorts! It’s amazing what talent and hard work can yield in just two days.
The 48HFP shorts will be screened, and the winners announced, on Saturday, July 19, 1pm at the Mayfair Theatre (thanks to programmer, and Kickass Canadian, Lee Demarbre). Come out if you can!
SNAPS for CARE on display at Petit Bill’s Bistro
Thursday, July 3rd, 2014—NewsSNAPS for CARE, the 2014 Kickass Canadians CARE Canada fundraiser, is being held at Petit Bill’s Bistro through July and August. The exhibit features six photographs by KickassCanadians.ca founder Amanda Sage, printed by CanvasPop; each canvas is available for purchase, with 100% of proceeds going to CARE Canada. You can find details here.
“Bliss” wins Indiedemand Film of the Month for June 2014
Sunday, June 22nd, 2014—NewsBliss won the June 2014 edition of Indiedemand’s Best Film of the Month! Thank you to everyone who voted for my movie, and to everyone involved in getting it made!! And of course to Indiedemand for being such a great champion of independent filmmaking.
Next up, Bliss will be in contention for the online festival’s Best Film of the Year. Voting opens November 2014.
Finding Vivian Maier & Only Lovers Left Alive
Saturday, June 21st, 2014—FilmFinding Vivian Maier (USA 2014, Documentary), Writer/Directors: John Maloof, Charlie Siskel
Only Lovers Left Alive (UK/Germany/Greece 2013, Drama/Horror/Romance), Writer/Director: Jim Jarmusch
I wasn’t planning to write a joint review of Finding Vivian Maier and Only Lovers Left Alive. But I saw them both in the last few weeks (at the marvellous Mayfair Theatre), and when I got to thinking I should write about one, the parallels between the two started seeping through. So here we are.
Finding Vivian Maier is a documentary about the late Vivian Maier, who was a nanny and, as it turns out, a deeply gifted street photographer. Much like many great artists, her work wasn’t appreciated until after her death in 2007, by which time historian John Maloof had stumbled upon some of her many film negatives at a Chicago auction and promptly set about trying to uncover her genius, not to mention her secrets. The final tally for Maier’s negatives is 100,000+, most of which she herself never printed. Maloof’s documentary is an exploration of “the mystery woman” behind the images she coveted and shot, but rarely shared with anyone else.
There’s a lot to observe and ponder in Finding Vivian Maier, but what had the most lasting impact for me was the idea that we never really know who’s walking among us. We can only guess at the stories of each person we pass, on any given day, and most of the time we don’t bother to try—even when it comes to people we interact with regularly.
Maier was definitely among the hidden gems that slipped unnoticed through the cracks (albeit a little rough and cloudy). Thanks to Finding Vivian Maier, we get a few snapshots of her story, a fascinating tale that was likely very lonely, maybe even brutal at times. But we never quite get a full glimpse behind the curtain, largely because of how reclusive Maier was.
It was this example of someone not wanting to be exposed, this idea of people who remain largely unknown to those around them, that prompted me to pair Finding Vivian Maier with Only Lovers Left Alive. This isn’t to equate Vivian Maier with vampires—not at all. It’s just that both films present interesting characters who hide themselves in plain sight, walking among us without ever betraying who (or what) they really are. And who thrive, even survive, off capturing people’s essence—their spirit, their blood—without their consent and usually without even their knowledge.
In Only Lovers Left Alive, vampires tend to feast off blood acquired in bottles from doctors. No one is bitten or killed, and the unwitting donors need not know it ever happened. It’s a highly civilized approach in a world where culture and civility are going down the drain, much to the protagonist’s despair. Adam (Tom Hiddleston), a centuries’ old vampire, is in a deep depression over rampant “zombie-ism”—his word for the current state of humanity, wherein people wander about thoughtlessly, mistreating the world around them, “contaminating their own blood, let alone their water.”
Adam is married to Eve (Tilda Swinton), who is also a vampire, although you wouldn’t necessarily know this about the couple, from the outset. Both Adam and Eve are awfully pale and seem to shun daylight, but it’s awhile before they start guzzling blood and baring fangs. He lives in Detroit, she in Tangiers, and they never explain why (delightfully avoiding exposition). But one can imagine that if marriage lasted centuries rather than decades, it might be nice to have a little room to roam now and then.
The story gets going, as much as it ever does, when Eve travels to Detroit to visit her morose husband (via two night flights, of course). It gets another bite of energy when Eve’s troublesome sister, Ava (Mia Wasikowska), shows up and interrupts the lovebirds’ relatively happy reunion.
It has to be said: Only Lovers Left Alive runs a little thin on plot. But writer/director Jim Jarmusch manages to thicken it anyway with intricate set design, a heady soundtrack and impeccable performances, capturing the sense of eternity Adam and Eve dwell in, without making it boring to watch. His film oozes atmosphere and artfulness; its power is largely in the telling, and Jarmusch tells it very beautifully.
Adam and Eve present the most believable 21st Century vampires I can think of. Deeply immersed in culture, they revel in art, basking in music and literature, coveting antique instruments and mastering multiple languages. They carry the massive sense of history, and perspective on human (mis)behaviour, that any being would, had it lived as long as these two.
I’ll admit the film’s ending is a bit bleak; without giving it away, I found it hard not to interpret the final moments as a relinquishment of hope and faith. (Let’s call the film “Good ‘til the last bite.”) But Only Lovers Left Alive is also full of humorous reflections and clever cultural references, including a fun running joke about Christopher Marlowe (John Hurt).
The uber-culturalism in Only Lovers Left Alive brings me back to my comparison with Finding Vivian Maier. Both films are devoted to art, raising it above all else. Adam and Eve seem to exist for art as much as for each other. (As my pal MF says, art is the only currency they value.) With Finding Vivian Maier, I sometimes got the same sense, from the filmmakers as well as their subject.
Maloof, who frequently appears in the documentary as a talking head, proceeds with his film even though many of the featured interviewees express their doubt as to whether Maier would have wanted to be exposed so publicly. That did make me question whether it was right to produce the documentary. But Maier may well have understood the passion to pursue one’s art at any cost. She was an obsessive photographer who took candids all the time, even when the subjects didn’t seem to appreciate being photographed, and even if it meant neglecting the children she was paid to care for. One interviewee recounts the time a former charge had a fairly serious accident in front of Maier, and instead of helping, Maier stood by and snapped photos.
Finding Vivian Maier gets even darker than that. The film touches on allegations that Maier physically abused some of the children she looked after. True, it also presents statements from former charges who appear to have cared for Maier very much, even into their adulthood, and suggests that she herself must have been “traumatized” in childhood. But none of that excuses child abuse, and I was disturbed by how easily the filmmakers moved away from the allegations.
In many ways, Finding Vivian Maier serves to introduce a selection of possible stories, without fully delving into any: the concept of art and what qualifies as such; childhood trauma and abuse; mental illness; and who Vivian Maier really was. But perhaps that’s as it should be.
One of the interviewees, a shopkeeper whose store Maier frequented, remarks that the story of the photographer and her desire to keep her photographs secret is much more fascinating than the photos themselves (as impressive as they are). I agree, and in some ways, the film’s unanswered questions about Maier are a bit frustrating. But given her desire for secrecy, it’s probably best that so much is left unsaid.
And in the end, the film does manage to provide an insightful glimpse into an intriguing life that was nearly overlooked—not to mention an incredible art collection. For that reason alone, Finding Vivian Maier is more than worthwhile. As Only Lovers Left Alive makes clear, art is invaluable and utterly deserving of our appreciation. After all, it easily outlasts each of us.
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Thanks to TS for recommending Finding Vivian Maier (yet another interesting film!). For more on Vivian Maier, visit VivianMaier.com. Incidentally, there’s another documentary on the artist, BBC’s The Vivian Maier Mystery.
And here’s another review of Only Lovers Left Alive, by my pal Patrick Mullen over at Cinemablographer.
‘Bliss’ in contention for Indiedemand Best Film of the Month
Tuesday, June 10th, 2014—NewsMy short movie Bliss is in the running for Indiedemand online film festival’s Best Film of the Month. Have a look at all the finalists, and if you like Bliss, please give me your vote. (Voting ends June 21.)
Continued thanks to the fabulous cast and crew: Kickass Canadians Miles Finlayson, Matt West & Ben Wilson and Clarke Mackey, plus the awesome Adam McLaren, Kate Smith, William Somers, Maxime Forgues, Alexi Merkis, Grant Schelske, Dave O’Heare, Laura Gauthier, Margaret Jensen-Palmer, Gavin Thompson, Kindha Gorman and Bob Coady.
Proud to be named a Friend of CARE Canada
Tuesday, June 3rd, 2014—NewsI’m humbled to be named a Friend of CARE Canada, for my volunteer efforts, and fundraising initiatives through KickassCanadians.ca (Kickass Talks and Wide Open). CARE has put me in some great company; I’ll have to strive to live up to the honour!
