JoJo Rabbit

 

I recently watched JoJo Rabbit, a movie from 2019 that came highly recommended and movie that was not streaming anywhere. Thankfully, my library had it on DVD and I borrowed. I could talk about this movie for days, discussing the many reasons I loved it. But I will simply urge you all to see it and will write this two word review:

Absolutely Brilliant!

The King of Staten Island

 

Last year's The King of Staten Island was a movie that I thought looked promising from previews. When I was at the library last week, they had a copy and I checked it out. Until I saw the DVD case, I hadn't known Judd Apatow was involved as director and co-screenwriter. I don't like all of his movies, but the ones I do like, I really enjoy. I also like Pete Davidson, but admit to being unsure of him as a film guy as it was something unproven...however, both were enough to think it was worth a shot.

It's a semi-autobiographical film based on some elements of Pete Davidson's life. There are some hilarious scenes in this film, up their with the best of Apatow movies I've seen. But beyond that, this is also just a good film. The story touches on deeper issues about the working class, mental health, and the loss of hope in an anxiety generation. It offers a more sympathetic view of a generation that has been mislabeled "entitled" by rejecting the Baby Boomer doctrine that when you grow-up you should accept that life becomes work. The question in this film, and one most people between the ages 25-50 are asking, is why does it have to?

Seeing Double

A few weeks ago, the Missus and I were talking about Richard Ayoade and his wonderful movie Submarine and during that discussion, discovered that seven years ago he had made another more called The Double and staring Jesse Eisenberg. Of course, we immediately put it on our watchlist.

This is one of those delightfully and brilliantly odd movies. It's part Michel Gondry, part Jean-Pierre Jeunet. It has that feel like it's set in an alternate reality, a bleak one where dark things happen. But these dark, bleak things are told in such a way that you find the humor buried within them. 

Simon James is a person who barely exists. He works at soul sucking data company where nobody seems to remember him though he's been there seven years. Then James Simon, an exact look-alike starts working there. This double is the mirror image of Simon. Think an angel and a devil sitting on the shoulder of someone. 

This devil character ends up destroying Simon's life, however miserable it may have been. However, it also awakens real passion and real life within him. 

Certainly not a film for everyone, but for people who like these types of movies, it's basically a masterpiece.

The Emptiness of Space

It probably shouldn't come to a surprise for anyone who has followed this blog for a period of time that I'm a sucker for space flicks. Ever since I was four years old and saw Star Wars for the first time, I've been a sucker for space flicks. My childhood was consumed with space fiction, and I still find it captivating to the imagination. Also being a Brad Pitt fan, it seemed to make sense to go see Ad Astra in the theater.

The overwhelming feeling that this movie left me with was coldness. It's not an uplifting film about the achievements of humankind. It's an exploration into the heart of darkness and the emptiness of space. 

It reminded me of Apocalypse Now set in outer space. The film is told mostly in voice over narrative as Brad Pitt's character ends up retracing his father's footsteps. He is on a mission to end the destruction that his father's madness has created. It basically follows the same trajectory as Apocalypse Now and does it well.

The movie is about isolation, both physically and psychologically. It deals with this theme on the personal level and on the species level. A refusal to connect with others leads one to dangerous places in their minds. Likewise, the inability for the human species to connect with other life is preventing us from moving away from the destructive behavior that has always plagued us. 

This movie was visually stunning and definitely explored these themes in depth and compellingly. The one place it was lacking was in giving the viewer any sense of emotion. The viewer is just as disconnected and closed off watching the movie as the characters are. To some extent, I think was intentional. However, at places where Brad Pitt's character shows emotion, it didn't seem to earn that emotion. But is sure was pretty to look at....

Once Upon A Time...

The era of the Director has long since passed, but a handful of heavyweights still manage to make each new movie an event. Quentin Tarantino is one of those directors, whose name alone could open a moive...but it certainly doesn't hurt that he always has an amazing cast. For his 9th film, he's turned his attention to his well-documented love affair with his hometown. 

This is one of those movies that's hard to pin down in one line what it's about. Sure, it's about the Manson Family's brutal slaying of Sharon Tate (sort of). Yes, it's about the grind-them-up-spit-them-out factory of the movie industry that uses up talent until it becomes useless to the big wigs trying to make money. It's about the stars, both rising and falling. It's about those on the periphery and those under the enchantment of celluloid fiction. It's about a city that is the center of its own created world and the magic that hangs over it. 

It tackles these many themes through a string of loosely connected scenes centering around Leo Dicaprio's character (the falling star) and Brad Pitt's character (the once-was stuntman). It sort of meanders through a six month period in a not-exactly linear style that is remmincent of Tarantino's best work. And as always, the dialouge is extremely tight and hilarious. 

This is another classic film from Quentin, and I'd rank it as my third favorite, just above Inglorious Bastards. Definitely a masterpiece of Hollywood turning the fiction inward and writing a Hollywood version of its own history. 

Full of Hate...

I've been really looking forward to seeing Once Upon a Time Hollywood and I realized that I still hadn't seen The Hateful Eight. As with most pop culture events from 2015 and the two years that followed, I was busy being a parent who was working full time and going to grad school. So I have legitimate excuses for having missed Quentin's three hour epic, but I rectified that oversight yesterday.

In many ways, this is a typical Tarantino film. It features terrible people who are somehow totally cool. It's extremely violent. It's full of clever twists. And it has great characters who are propelled by colorful dialog. In some ways, the premise isn't much different than Reservoir Dogs. You have characters who are unaware that their motivations are working against each other as they are trapped in tight quarters. 

I loved the old school whodunit feel of how this story unfolds and LOVED Samuel L. Jackson in this movie in a way I haven't loved him in a movie since Pulp Fiction. He was really the center of the movie, the only character really in tune with what was going on. I also loved Walton Goggins (Vice Principals). His partnership with Jackson's character in the last chapter of the movie was a kind of metaphor for the film, that despite learned hatred, in the right (or wrong) circumstances, we can see past that nonsense and see each other for who we are.

Mary and the Witch's Flower

Based on the book The Little Broomstick by Mary Stewart, this Japanese film was directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi. Formerly an animator and director with Studio Ghibli, this project sees him now associated with Studio Ponoc. Not surprisingly, it looks like a Ghibli film and has the same heart for magic as a Ghibli film. 

This tells the story of a young girl named Mary, who has been sent to live with her Great Aunt. One day, she enters the woods to escape her boredom and finds a mysterious flower. Unknown to Mary, the flower holds incredibly power...the power of magic.

Mary is my favorite kind of children's story character. She's brave, though she doubts herself. She's intelligent and resourceful, and she's loyal to her beliefs. It is the kind of character that can overcome any obstacle through will and determination.

After she discovers a secret world of witches and warlocks engaged in dangerous experiments, she will stop at nothing to save her friend and put an end to the horrible things taking place. This is a delightful, slow-paced movie that transports the viewer wholly into its world.

Forbidden Games

Forbidden Games is the 1953 Oscar winner for Best Foreign Language film, directed by René Clément, one of the leading post-War directors in France. It stars a 6 year old Brigitte Fossey, who would later go on to have a successful career as an actress. This is the story of a little girl who is orphaned in the opening scene of the film as her family, along with hundreds of others, are fleeing Paris and being pursued by Nazi aircraft. During an attack on a bridge, Paulette's family perishes.

Rather than stay with the caravan, she follows the river to retrieve her dog, who has also died in the attack. There, she meets a little boy and he takes her to his family farm where she is temporarily adopted. While the movie deals with the horrors of war, it is not a war film. At its heart, the movie is about the ability of childhood innocence to prevail even in the darkest of times and examines children invent ways to understand them.

The two children live in their own secret world where the rules of conduct that govern the grown-up world don't apply. The world they create in an attempt to understand death creates conflict as it grows continuously at odds with the workings of the small farm community. 

There is no attempt to place morality on the children's world. Instead, the film depicts the ways children inventively deal with adult topics such as love, death, sorrow and joy. It's beautifully shot, wonderfully understated, and ultimately heartbreaking. 

Interestingly, the Criterion Collection includes an alternate beginning and ending, which were fully edited, indicating that these alternates were strongly considered up until the very last moment. The alternate opening and concluding scenes create a frame-tale structure that would've contained the entire movie in a storybook world. This would've lessened the heartbreak and preserved the innocence of the characters, but ultimately would have taken away from the impact of the film, which is probably why they wisely chose to delete them. But I must admit it was nice to see watch them afterward because it gave me some sense of relief for the children.

Delightfully Disturbing Cinema

Four years ago, the movie adaptation of Irvine Welsh's 1998 novel Filth was released, and despite being a big fan of his novels, and the movie versions, I missed this one. But I finally got to see it this weekend, and like the book, it was delightfully disturbing. 

The story follows a detective in Welsh's hometown of Edinburgh Scotland who is trying his best to manipulate every person and situation around him in order to secure a promotion. Played brilliantly by James McAvoy, Detective Bruce Robinson is a drug riddled malcontent not unlike the skagboys in his popular Trainspotting novel, except Bruce Robinson carries a badge, which he uses as a means to get away with indulgences. 

Handed a high-profile murder case, Bruce has his hands full trying to work the case while also undermining his colleagues to put himself in the front runner position for the promotion within the force, which he believes will win back his estranged wife and daughter and reunite his family. 

For a little while, he able to handle this tangled web expertly. Everything seems to be going his way and falling into place, but eventually, his drug habits and hidden psychological problems begin to take their toll and he begins to crack under the stress.

The movie begins to unfold like a crime mystery, though the mystery isn't the actual murder at the center of the film, but rather the complicated hidden parts of the life of Detective Bruce Robinson. There's a weirdness about this movie that is part Terry Gilliam, part David Lynch, part John Waters. For the first half of the film, these weird elements seem disjointed and odd, but as the mystery unfolds, they take on meaning and prove themselves to be relevant to the story. Certainly not a film for everybody, but fans will appreciate it.

Lady Bird

In the world of superhero comic book blockbuster retreads, it's rare for a quiet film to be heard over all the noise. Thankfully there are still a handful of indie theaters around that make it a point to show these films. This past weekend, I got the chance to see Greta Gerwig's Lady Bird.

Christina is a teenager in post-9/11 Sacramento who is in search of something, anything, exciting to happen in her life, as most of us are at that age. Standing in her way is the downturn in the economy which has brought hard times on her family, a mother who butts heads with her, and her own inability to see all that is truly happening around her. This is one of those brilliant coming of age stories that gets everything right. It's finds humor in the heartbreaking, love in hardship, and hope where it seems all hope is lost.

But as with any film, the story is only as good as the acting, and thankfully this fantastic dialogue is delivered perfectly by the cast. Granted, I haven't seen many films this year, but even if I had, I'm certain this would've been the best one that I'd seen. With all that said, next stop is a galaxy far, far away. 

Choose Life.

Twenty years after the original Trainspotting became an iconic film that helped defined my generation, the characters have returned to show us how choosing life worked out for them. Both films are based on exceptional novels by Irvine Welsh, one of my personal favorite authors. Unlike the movies, the books were not written with so much space between them, which meant there wasn't the typical lapse in continuity that one might expect. 

Trainspotting 2 sees the characters aged and still stuck in making wrong choices and struggling with the despair that comes from wasted opportunities. It also deals with the feeling of nostalgia we all have when looking fondly back at our younger years, even when the events from those years weren't always so fond. It examines the bonds of friendship that are developed in those formative years, and explores how they are easily rekindled even after years of absence and bad blood. I often encounter this with my oldest friends. Though years may pass between visits, that time quickly evaporates and it suddenly seems like no time has passed at all. The movie captures that phenomenon wonderfully.

It is certainly not as "hip" or "iconic" as the first film, but doesn't try to be. This is about dealing with the fact that life has set different priorities for us as we grow. It is perhaps best summed up in the comparisons between the opening "Choose life" speech that opens and closes the first movie, and Renton's "Choose life" speech in the new film.

Renton in Trainspotting: "Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?"

Renton in Trainspotting 2: "'Choose life'. 'Choose life' was a well meaning slogan from a 1980's anti-drug campaign and we used to add things to it, so I might say for example, choose... designer lingerie, in the vain hope of kicking some life back into a dead relationship. Choose handbags, choose high-heeled shoes, cashmere and silk, to make yourself feel what passes for happy. Choose an iPhone made in China by a woman who jumped out of a window and stick it in the pocket of your jacket fresh from a South-Asian Firetrap. Choose Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram and a thousand others ways to spew your bile across people you've never met. Choose updating your profile, tell the world what you had for breakfast and hope that someone, somewhere cares. Choose looking up old flames, desperate to believe that you don't look as bad as they do. Choose live-blogging, from your first wank 'til your last breath; human interaction reduced to nothing more than data. Choose ten things you never knew about celebrities who've had surgery. Choose screaming about abortion. Choose rape jokes, slut-shaming, revenge porn and an endless tide of depressing misogyny. Choose 9/11 never happened, and if it did, it was the Jews. Choose a zero-hour contract and a two-hour journey to work. And choose the same for your kids, only worse, and maybe tell yourself that it's better that they never happened. And then sit back and smother the pain with an unknown dose of an unknown drug made in somebody's fucking kitchen. Choose unfulfilled promise and wishing you'd done it all differently. Choose never learning from your own mistakes. Choose watching history repeat itself. Choose the slow reconciliation towards what you can get, rather than what you always hoped for. Settle for less and keep a brave face on it. Choose disappointment and choose losing the ones you love, then as they fall from view, a piece of you dies with them until you can see that one day in the future, piece by piece, they will all be gone and there'll be nothing left of you to call alive or dead. Choose your future, Veronika. Choose life." 

On the Road

I went into watching this 2012 film, based on the Jack Kerouac novel, without conclusively remembering that it had ever been made. A few weeks ago, I was remembering how a friend of mind had auditioned for this film for Francis Ford Coppola back in 1995 and wondered why it never got made. As I was scrolling through Hulu the other night to watch something, this popped up. Low and behold, it was made! Coppola was the executive producer and it actually garnered a decent amount of attention for indie films back in 2012, and with Kristen Stewart fresh off of Twilight success, that doesn't surprise. What does surprise me is that I completely missed it.

Though I'm big fan of the Beat Generation, I will admit that On the Road is a book that never managed to grab my adoration. I much prefer Dharma Bums than this one. I mention this so that it is clear that my review of the film is not from an individual who holds the novel on a pedestal. Perhaps that is why I was able to thoroughly enjoy this adaptation. Others seem to miss the sense of freedom celebrated by the novel, which has been replaced with a more mature reflective nature of the pitfalls of self-destructive behavior, an attitude that Kerouac wouldn't express until later in his career. 

I found this film to be extremely genuine. The cast was wonderful and never tried to overact or seem to take into account that they were portraying iconic figures. Often when given a role like that, it seems actors easily founder. The cast in here was pretty fantastic, and I think it helped that they were relatively unknowns. The look of the film was also great, not over stylized and never bland. It's depictions of madness, joy, regret, and artistic struggle were poignant and poetic. By the end, it made me want to revisit the book and see if I'd missed something when I read it 25 years ago.

Manchester By the Sea

Last weekend, I went to see Manchester by the Sea and have to say it was one of the more important movies that I've seen in a long time. It was the kind of movie that was made in the height of indie cinema in the late '90s, but doesn't often get made today since it's not an easy movie and not a movie that fits into a pre-defined marketing category. This is a story about sadness, about dealing with sadness, about learning to live again after sadness. I wouldn't call it a depressing movie. It's about healing. While it's definitely sad, it's ultimately uplifting by the end.

One of the things that is curious about this movie, and one of the things that makes it important, is that it is specifically about men and how men deal with sadness. Despite the advances our society has made, there is still this prevailing idea out there that men should deal with sadness in the traditional way. This movie examines that concept in a powerful way and shows how tragic that concept can be. It also shows the private side of male bonding and the healing power of that bond. 

While I enjoyed La La Land immensely, and thought it a fun love story, it's not on the same level as this film. There is a scene between Casey Affleck and Michelle Williams, the scene in the poster pictured above, that is perhaps the best acted scene that I've ever watched. For that scene alone, both deserve Oscars, as does the film. This will be the first year in many that I've watched the Academy Awards with a winner to root for.

How Very Peculiar...

Two weekends ago, I went to see Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I've been a huge fan of the Ransom Riggs novels since the first one came out and was excited to see what Tim Burton would do with the material. I knew it would be different, but hoped that a wonderful story in the hands of another wonderful storyteller would produce something magical.

Tim Burton has been a visionary his entire career, which fortunately for me, has spanned my own film viewing life. Not everything he's done is among my favorites, but many are. Beetlejuice is a movie that helped define my late childhood. Nightmare Before Christmas sparked my teen imagination. Sleepy Hollow and Sweeny Todd were favorites of my creative adulthood. So, despite my abject abhorrence to Alice in Wonderland, I went into this movie with high hopes. 

Before I get too critical, I want to say that I enjoyed Miss Peregrine as a film. I was entertained throughout. I thought it was visually interesting. I thought the plot held together, for the most part. But as with any film version of a book that I adore, I found myself constantly puzzling over why certain changes were made. The main thing that I couldn't fathom was why he would swap Ella and Olive's peculiarities. Yes, the transposing of their abilities was one of the things that made the plot come together, but it was a plot not taken from the book. So if you were changing the plot anyway, why not figure out some way that worked while keeping the characters as they were created. But that was a minor distraction, and one that shouldn't play into the enjoyment of the film for anyone unfamiliar with the books.

Another thing that I found unsettling was how the last third of the movie was completely devoid of the source material. This was necessary considering a book trilogy was made into a stand alone movie. But that is another thing I couldn't understand. In this era of trilogies and sequels, why take a mega-bestselling book trilogy and make it one film? 

The last third of the movie was the biggest disappointment for me. The ending of the books is so incredibly imaginative and intriguing. The big Hollywood action style ending to the movie felt so false to the creativity of the story told in the books. All of that said, I think this is a movie that tweens will remember the way I remember Beetlejuice and I believe many will be turned onto the books, and feel confident that they will then discover the brilliance to be found there.

The Lobster

Last night I saw The Lobster, a movie that felt really original and bizarrely funny. It takes the absurdities of our dating/ mating culture and deconstructs them into a dystopian world full of cruelty, and does so in such a way that we are able to laugh at them, while also being appalled by them. 

This is the kind of film that is rarely made today. It reminded me of indie cinema of the '90s, where directors were willing to experiment with odd storytelling and anti-conventions. It also harkened back to films from the '70s, particularly A Clockwork Orange comes to mind in the brand of unsettling humor. 

It's not exactly a profound movie, and doesn't try to be. It just tries to look at culture in an abstract way and succeeds in making it very entertaining. It's the kind of film that once seen, one will not forget it. Twenty or forty years from now, I will still remember what this movie was about and probably smile and chuckle to myself. That alone is worth the price of admission.

When there are Witches In Your Room...

These days, movies are made to fit into preconceived marketing plans. They are typically comic book movies, horror films, romantic comedies, family films, Oscar bait, fantasy, or action movies. The reason for this is simple. A studio has created strategies for selling these films to an audience. They know who the intended audience is, how a trailer is supposed to look in order to appeal that audience, and where to advertise the movie according to where said audience shops. Rarely do films get made if they don't fall into one of the defined categories, or if they do, the movie is shoved into one of the marketing plans, which is likely to alienate that audience since it's not the "kind" of movie they expected. Such is the case for The Witch.

This film got the full-on "horror" movie advertising scheme, even though the movie is far from being a traditional horror film. While it has elements of a horror movie, it deals with far too many heavy themes to be a horror flick. Based on New England folk tales and actual historical records of witch trials, it is more of a dark fairy tale than a horror movie.  

The pacing of this film is very careful and slow, something that often turns off today's audience. I know this from first hand experience as it is often a criticism of my novels. However, I enjoy a slow pace, one that allows you to be brought into the world of the story. The Witch does that very well, letting you get to know the different members of the family in an intimate way, which is necessary to give the developments the impact they need.

While it deals with various themes in detail, including organized religion vs. the individual's relationship with God, sexual awakening, and the struggle to survive in an unforgiving environment, the core of the film is about suspicion and distrust. It's a timeless scenario, when things start to go wrong, the members of an isolated party begin to turn on each other. The Witch takes a slightly deeper twist on this old theme, bringing it to a darker place in that the one character is who is essentially good, is driven to evil by the suspicions of others. It's a powerful condemnation of the distrustfullness of others and the destructive nature of such behavior. 

The Witch isn't a perfect movie, but at least it's bold and takes risks. In this day and age, that alone is worthy of some level of praise. 

Hailing Caesar...

For three decades, the Coen brothers have been making some of the best movies of their generation. Their unique style of storytelling has cemented them as one of the few original voices left in popular cinema and has made many of their films modern classics. Last week I finally went to see their newest film, Hail Caesar and I'm happy to report that it yet another masterpiece.

The backdrop of the film is old Hollywood, on the back lot of the fictional Capital Pictures, a thinly veiled portrayal of the once unstoppable juggernaut of MGM. It pays homage to all of the different genres and stars that were popular in the era. There are several perfectly replicated scenes that reflect the cinema of the time, each one done with close attention to detail, and typically ending with a typically brilliant joke which the Coens are so good at doing. 

While dealing with studio exploitation, the hysteria surrounding communism, and the need to hide the private vices of anyone associated with Hollywood, the film uses an entertaining noire frame tale to contain the many moving parts. The result is a delightful movie that kept me entertained and frequently laughing. And like many of their best movies, it's one that can be watched again and again, revealing new references and jokes each time.

Children Who Chase Lost Voices

The other week, I was finally able to catch up with watching a few anime films that I'd been meaning to see. Along with Wolf Children, which I wrote about two weeks ago, I also watched Children Who Chase Lost Voices. This is a film that had been nominated for tons of prestige awards when it came out in 2011. It's a coming of age story that infuses magical elements based on Japanese mythology.

One of the things that I've always loved about anime is the format's ability to genre bend within a film and there is no inner voice asking me to question the logic behind such changes. This is one of those movies that starts off innocently enough, with a young girl missing the father she's lost and the mother who works days on end. She deals with her loneliness by climbing the nearby hills and listening to a radio powered by a crystal left to her by her father. 

It turns out that these crystals have a connection to a world that exists below the surface of the earth, a world where old gods and myths have gone now that they're no longer needed to guide mankind out of his infancy. The girl, Asuna, soon becomes entangled with a human who lives in that world, known as Agartha, and a government agent who is search for it for his own selfish reasons. What transpires is a journey that threatens the very existence of Agartha and causes all involved to question what is possible. 

This is beautiful film, with breathtaking moments of animation. Clearly inspired by Studio Ghibli. There are moments that seem borrowed from Spirited Away and Princess Mononokie. They are clearly interested in the same mythology and derive from similar cultural sources. Certainly worth watching for fans of Miyazaki's films. 

Wolf Children

The past weekend, I finally watched Wolf Children, the acclaimed 2013 anime film from director Mamoru Hosoda. I've been wanting to see this film ever since I stumbled across it while researching work on my werewolf novel two years ago. Though it's very different than the tale I'm crafting, the idea of wolf children intrigued me and it was a delight to see how it was handled in this beautiful film.

In many ways, Wolf Children is a classic fairy tale but with a decidedly modern feel, dealing with modern day problems. It handles extremely difficult subjects like death and childhood anxieties with delicate care, while never attempting to gloss over them or trivialize their seriousness. There are moments in the movie that are incredibly sad, but they are balanced with moments of triumph. 

It's strange how I find myself now watching things with a parental eye. When this movie was over, I was left with an overwhelming excitement to one day share it with my daughter, who has been fascinated with the DVD cover for weeks. Rated PG, it has that kind of Bambi feel that makes it appropriate for introducing tough subjects in a way that children can understand and not be terribly afraid of. And the message of following your heart, being yourself, and helping others is one that every parent can appreciate. 

Fly Like a Birdman

As life goes by, the accumulation of artistic exposure inevitably means that there are fewer and fewer surprises to be found in works of fiction, especially if you've devoted most of your life to the study of understanding how the concept of story works. So when I encounter a story that feels as original as Birdman, I feel compelled to share my love and sing the praises. 

The film deals with the struggle of one man to break free from the shadow of past success and popularity in an attempt to gain respect for his artistic talent. The way it presents the turbulent path of an artistic career, and the conflicts of ego that tend to go along with it, are incredibly honest, at least from my personal experiences. As an artist, you are haunted by the work you did in the past, and forever in doubt about the quality of what you may be doing in the present. Michael Keaton is not only the perfect actor for this role because of the meta connotations with his history of being the first Batman, but also because over the years people forgot that he's a great actor. 

Edward Norton represents another difficult aspect of being an artist. He's the artist who excels in his art, but can't handle the everyday mundane practices of real life. The artist who is more content to live within his art at the expense of any other relationships is another pitfall that lurks on the artistic journey. The film captures all of this in a script that is humorous at times and heartbreaking at others. The camera weaves through the narrow backstage hallways as if traveling through tunnels of the mind, connecting one thought and emotion to another, sometimes allowing them to crash in violent collision. There is a darkness hovering through those halls, in fact the world is only bright and colorful when the story is transported into the imaginary worlds of its characters. That is he life of the artist.

There are some films that come to mind for comparison; Black Swan, Inland Empire, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind and Pan's Labyrinth to name a few. It's like those movies, but completely unlike them as well, as they are also unlike each other or any others. Like those movies this one is unique and it's nice to see uniqueness being recognized in an age when movies that don't fall into one of the predetermined labels that coincide with a ready-made marketing campaign tend get lost. Fly high, Birdman...fly high.