Size Matters

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It’s one of those small, personal films…..

The audience is VERY limited…..

People in major metropolitan areas will be go for it, but…I mean…

Why would anyone want to see this?…

BO-RING!!!…………

BRILLIANT!!!

There seems to be two types of movies nowadays – the BIG and the SMALL.

The BIG ones are entertaining and appeal to many people. Even when they’re dramatic they have lots of ACTION and are not full of MANY LEVELS of meaning. They’re LOUD and they’re fun. They can also be funny, with recognizable characters that you’d like to hang out with or hate. When they work they’re like great fast food or stylish mass-market clothing lines. You indulge in them because they deliver on what they promise.

Of course, this description is a little ridiculous. But that’s fine because we’re not talking about the BIG here. They get enough attention as it is.

That leaves – The SMALL. And the PERSONAL.

This variety is just that: intimate, multi-layered and often not very obvious. They are not fun in a ha-ha sort of way and many times they are just plain upsetting or confusing. Their pace is A LOT SLOWER (more, ahem, leisurely) and in too many moments you care to admit they can make you wonder why you would choose to spend what precious little spare time you have watching another person’s therapy session. Still, they give you something that you can’t get most anywhere else – an intimate, almost forbidden look into the psyche of someone else. At their best they can be moving, thought-provoking and, as a side benefit, can make you feel personally less crazy about your own mind and life.

Join the club!

Join the club!

Certainly, this description is biased and overly general. But no less false or true than the one used to describe BIG.   If it also seems a bit snobby, like I’m preferring this to the former, then so be it. Remember, we’re talking about what the general public considers SMALL. It needs all the help that it can get.

This being a lazy weekend where I’ve been under the weather after finishing up months of work on two different jobs, I was up for the small in the last few days.

You’d think it would be the opposite, right? Well, you wouldn’t be alone. My parents never understood why I preferred to write heart-breaking poetry at the age of 12 instead of playing baseball outside. Or why I worried so much about the destruction of the world, my own death and other existential questions of life.

What can I say, some of us were just born this way.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aaddWJtRoQ

So to satisfy all of these urges– and yes, to RELAX ME – I popped in three different DVDs from my holiday pile courtesy of the usually ungenerous film studios. They are all what are considered SMALL movies. And they ALL had their moments – which you can take any way you want.

Other than being tossed by the general SHOW BIZ public into the dreaded SMALL and PERSONAL category, they have absolutely nothing else in common. Which is why they’re worth examining individually before they entirely disappear from the motion picture zeitgeist – and perhaps seeing if what I (or THEY) say about small is true.

BY THE SEA 

Directed, written and starring Angelina Jolie-Pitt

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It’s difficult to imagine ANYTHING starring Mr. and Mrs. Brad Pitt as small or personal, right? After all, is anything they do either of those things for very long? Certainly, it’s never SMALL. Except this film.

No – it’s nowhere near as BAD as you might have read it is. Nor is not a two-hour plus perfume commercial, the ultimate vanity project or the thinly veiled semi-autobiographical tale of Ms. Jolie-Pitt’s deceased mother.

By The Sea is actually a strangely watchable and often infuriatingly flawed tale of a an early 1970s it couple in marital crisis done in the style of a late 1960s French film where shots linger, meanings are implied and the scenery, clothes and sunsets are all breathtakingly beautiful. All done to the tune of what seems like a mash-up of the ambient theme music of every film ever directed by Jean Renoir, Roger Vadim and Claude Chabrol, not to mention a few others.

and then pipe in some Burton-Taylor 1970s glamour

and then pipe in some Burton-Taylor 1970s glamour

If you’re looking for faults you’ll find them. It’s thoroughly dumb-founding why Ms. Jolie-Pitt spends the majority of her screen time miserably unhappy and girding towards a breakdown. And when the truth is finally revealed (Note: yes, hang in there, she finally will let you know) it has nowhere near the impact it might have had it been doled out to us in even semi-coherent bits and pieces all along. True, this is screenwriting 101 but, I mean, are you going to be the one to give the Pitts notes when they’ve signed on to star in a new movie they want you to make?

This being the case, let’s focus on the positives. This is a filmmaker-movie star that understands exactly who she is and what the public thinks of her. So what she chooses to do here is indulge us with it – meaning her – until we can’t see straight and then subvert our expectations of who we think she is. Or, well, who her character is. Not that there’s a difference. Or, is there?

Oh Angie... you clever girl.

Oh Angie… you clever girl.

See, that’s the point. Ms. Jolie-Pitt plays an impossibly beautiful, glamorous former-dancer from New York married to Mr. Pitt, an impossibly handsome famous novelist of the time. They live in New York but are vacationing in a gem of a small hotel on the water in the south of France where they drive a spiffy sports car and seem to have unlimited clothes, style and funds to stay as long as they choose. They are so breathtakingly watchable and enviable that you hate them – then hate them for being as miserable as they both are. Until you also can’t help but be intrigued by one question: how can this possibly be??????

And that’s the crux of the film and what makes it more often than not watchable. Which is not to say I give it a hearty recommendation. But by the end, you marvel at how skillfully Ms. Jolie Pitt was able to undermine our expectations of just who she and her husband are vs. what they seem to be. And if you want to know if I’m talking about the real couple or the characters they play I have no idea. Which is, again, the entire point, and what makes the movie an unusual experience you don’t get much of anymore on the BIG (or even small) screen.

ROOM

Directed by Lenny Abrahamson; Written by Emma Donoghue (based on her novel)

Every year it seems there’s room for ONE small, personal, INDIE film on the Hollywood must-see A list. Last year it was Whiplash, and deservedly so. This year it’s Room, a movie that is equally deserving.

It’s difficult to predict why one very intimate, low-budget SMALL story will work so well while others falter. The strength of Room is its unrelenting oppressive intimacy and suppressed emotions. Which is not say it’s without its fair share of hysteria. But there’s an astonishing lack of bells and whistles here – whether due to budget, design, style or all three – and it all works pretty seamlessly.

There will be no spoilers except to say Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay, who play a mother and her five-year old son stuck in a small room – a premise novelist/ screenwriter Donoghue was inspired to create after she read about an even more harrowing real-life story. People often think writers can only tell personal stories they’ve experienced or seen happen to their family and friends. This is shortsighted and denies the very craft of writing itself. If you do your homework and are open to your own emotions you can become part of each character’s story and wind up telling a tale about your own life – at least by extension.

Move over J. Law, Brie's Hollywood's newest It Girl

Move over J. Law, Brie’s Hollywood’s newest It Girl

For whatever reason, that seems to have happened here with Ms. Donoghue, the director and the actors. Ms. Larson is astonishing, as she was in the similar-in scope Short Term 12 several years ago. Her co-star, the now 8-year-old Jacob Tremblay gives one of those child performances that will go down next to Hayley Joel Osment in The Sixth Sense and Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine. You just find yourself wondering – how can this be? How does a kid DO this? And…could I even put two thoughts together when I was his age???

There’s a lot more to Room than any of this but since I managed to see it with little or no information beforehand I’ll do you the same favor here. But you should see it. It shows that you can still aspire to tell any sort of subject matter onscreen and, with enough time and effort, do it every bit as well or better than any one of the BIG guys (or gals, for that matter).

INFINITELY POLAR BEAR

Directed and written by Maya Forbes

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This movie is an admittedly semi-fictionalized account of the writer-director’s own childhood as the young daughter of her bipolar, blue-blood father who tries to be a full-time parent to her and her sister when their African American mother decides to go to grad school in order to be able to earn enough money to support the family.

Its strength is that it embraces mental illness as both a serious medical condition AND entertainingly over-the-top oddity. Too often this type of character becomes merely charmingly strange or sadly pathetic – either whitewashed into a sideshow freak or held up as a sadly melodramatic life-wrecking nut job. Mark Ruffalo’s performance manages to convey equal parts of both and it imbues the film with just the right kind of narrative drive to sustain a fairly episodic story. Just as you think it’s all getting a bit ridiculous, he anchors you back to a believable reality. But when the film veers into Lifetime TV melodrama (Note: That is if Lifetime TV did more films with male leads – but that would then make it a TNT or Nat Geo movie where he’d have to be a crazy cowboy in the Wild West), he comes up with an odd bit or reaction that makes you smile but won’t send your face into snide eye-roll mode.

Just want to remind everyone that this was a real Lifetime movie in 2015.

Just want to remind everyone that this was a real Lifetime movie in 2015.

One wishes the story offered something a little bit…newer on the subject. Or perhaps that by looking at his predicament through the 2015 lens of what we know about mental illness makes everything about what’s presented seem a bit dated. One can’t help but feel like we’ve seen it before, or read about it or watched too many cable and now even network series on the subject with more than our fair share of QUIRK.

There are also moments in the movie where we can’t help but feel as if we’re watching Ms. Forbes’ comic recreations of a childhood that she has recreated for many others through the years. Of course, there is nothing wrong with that on its own. Almost every artist does it with their stories and experiences in some form or another before offering it up for general digestion (NOTE: Guilty as charged). The trick is for it not to seem as if this is material that has had previous out-of-town runs. You don’t want the sense that the daughters’ embarrassments are too planned or the wife’s exasperations too rehearsed – which is how it too often seemed. But like he does in so many roles, it’s Mr. Ruffalo who seems to know just how to calibrate it all. It’s why he’s the go-to character guy of his age group – a guy who knows how to make the small seem something better than big – REAL.

To the Moon and Back

TO THE MOON

Never ever trust an accomplished famous person who says in an interview:

Every day is an exciting opportunity to be creative. I have a strong work ethic.  I just don’t get depressed. 

This goes double for any formerly regular individual who is profiled because of something awful that they recently endured.

Each second is precious now.  It can all get taken from you in a moment – in my case it almost did.  So I appreciate friends, family, even the ants on my front stoop.  Everything, all of it, is good.

Oh. Please.  Make it stop.

Some days (or weeks) are just tiring or even awful.  Like the seasons, life runs in cycles.  (Note:  I just realized I sounded like one of those two I quoted above.  Yikes!).  There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re a bit tired, burnt out or even sad.  Yes – there are works of art waiting to be created that you can start right now but chocolate and potato chips and reruns of your favorite bad reality show feel a lot better right now.  Each of them tastes good.  And even if you’re not devouring them, somehow it just feels reassuring to know that they’re there to take a bite of whenever you want.  Which inevitably will lead to a meal, who are we kidding?  But, as we’ve already concluded, it’s okay to down that, or even be down with the idea of it.  No one’s advocating it as a way of life – tempting as that might be at any given moment when you don’t feel like taking on the world.

This week was one of those weeks for me.  No particular reason.  Though I would like to blame it on the government shutdown brought to you by the childish temper tantrums of ultra right wing America.   Yes, I drink a lot of green tea – which is good for your digestion and is supposed to be restorative – but long ago I recognized this simple fact:

Life is not a Tea Party, nor will it, or should it, ever be.

It's OK when things boil over

It’s OK when things boil over

By the way, there is nothing at all wrong with thinking this way – politically or as a life philosophy.  If it’s all good then you’re forced to believe things like cancer and Sarah Palin moose hunting and peas and carrots in a can have to be put on the positive list.  And we all know that’s just plain dumb.  At least as dumb as one of the other two live things listed above (and I don’t mean the moose).

So what to do?  Well, there’s this world out there that most of the entire greater world is obsessed with.  That world is appropriately called: entertainment.  And, call me crazy (which many have and presumably are still yet to do), this week there was a lot to choose from.

I’m all for creativity, psychotherapy, hanging out with friends and overindulging with food or your _________ of choice to a point.  But if you’re one of the gazillions of people out there who still like a good new-fashioned movie, TV show or, well, other diversions, know this: summer is over and a bunch of new stuff is available for any one over 18 needing to escape a little.  (Note:  Those under 18 – I’m not including you here because everything else in the world of entertainment caters to you.  Still, if you want to sneak a peak at any of this stuff, I can’t stop you.   Just like I can’t stop you from posting a photo of your cat doing pushups on Instagram).

In any event, here is a small but select list of what can get you through.

GRAVITY

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Believe the hype but cut it in half so your expectations won’t be too high.  At a taut 91 minutes, Gravity is one of those movies that you’re sure is going to bore or disappoint you but somehow manages to get under your skin and stay there – in a great way.

There will be no spoilers here but as you can probably tell from the poster, Sandra Bullock plays a woman up in space that…well, that’s all you need to know.  Yes, there are lots of shots of stars, sky and things being weightless.  However, these are all done in service of something quite unusual in this genre of film – a story, and a small one at that.

The innovation here is that small doesn’t have to mean bad in the age of the major studio blockbusters.  Small can be large in terms of excitement, emotion and box-office dollars as this creation from the director Alfonso Cauron and his son, Jonas, who co-wrote the screenplay, proves.

Not interested in space or the space program, you say?  No problem.  Here’s how uninterested I am and have always been in the space program.  When Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon in 1968 and all of America was kvelling about one of our guys becoming #1 before the world, do you know what little 12-year-old me was doing? Sitting alone in the playground of my apartment building looking down at the dirt.  Yes, you heard me.  I did this because I felt quite strongly that the U.S. should not be spending millions of dollars in space when funds were being cut in this country for the underprivileged at the same time we were supporting an unjust war in Vietnam.  If the US government didn’t care enough about the innocents we were killing overseas and our fellow human beings we were turning our backs on in our own country, I would under no circumstances support a macho adventure to unknown parts of the universe that seemed to cater to the testosterone driven needs of us having to be first just so we could have universal bragging rights.  So I sat in the playground and pretended I was nowhere.  And each time anyone brought up or asked me about where I was or what I thought of the moon landing I said my piece. (Surprise!).  Obviously, I still am.

I was Lisa Simpson.

Clearly, I was Lisa Simpson.

Though I probably would do it all over again exactly the same way, Gravity made me feel like I was making up for what everyone says I missed.  Finally, I was not only in space but was more in the actual minds of people who bravely go into those unknown frontiers rather than in the company of the relentless patriot drumbeat of the US patriarchy.  The latter is the kind of group that used to like to make fun of me in school that I would do anything to not be around.  It’s probably why I was indifferent to the last big space astronaut space movie of our time, The Right Stuff, and why for me Gravity soared.  (Note: See the wordplay I did there?)

Plus – prediction: Gravity will win best picture and Sandra Bullock will win best actress.  Sorry Cate Blanchet in Blue Jasmine and apologies 12 Years A Slave, the latter of which I have not yet seen.  You just get a feeling about these things.

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN

The witching hour is upon us

In its third season, AHS is like the ex-lover you vow never again to let in your house but the one who you always wind up in bed with when you’re lonely.  Yet with AHS it’s become more than a booty call.  It has graduated to something dependable to which a new name should be attributed.  Use your imagination.  Or better yet, don’t even question it.

After a first season where a mysterious man in a rubber suit seduces any number of people around him, and a second season where Jessica Lange got to sing and dance The Name Game along with all of the rest of the inmates in the Asylum, I was unsure how much further or more imaginative they could get.  Have no fear – Kathy Bates has come to the rescue as a Civil War era torturess conjured up from the past by The Supreme.  No, that’s not Diana Ross or Mary Wilson but the most all-powerful of witches in the secret coven of 2013 witches.  These witches don’t have a pointed hats or wars though they do occasionally wear black.  They are like the cast and audience of a Kardashian family reality show.  And their Supreme is none other than, whom else – Ms. Lange herself.

Is this brilliant TV?  No.  Is this great TV? Yes, YES, YES.

It’s grotesque, politically incorrect, nightmarish and shamelessly campy.  And – I wouldn’t miss a minute of it.  Neither should you.

SHORT TERM 12

The real deal

The real deal

This year’s little movie that could.  I’m not sure what it means for a movie to have rottentomatoes positive scores of 99% from movie critics and 94% from movie audiences but it must be something good.   A good rule of thumb is to not put too much stock in these ratings but in this case – well, after watching the film you’ll see how right and rare it is when audiences and movie critics agree.

ST12 tells the story of a young couple who work at a facility for discarded adolescents from the juvenile system who live in housing on a temporary basis and receive counseling and participate in support groups in order to help them through the sad circumstances of their lives.  So why rush out to something so depressing, particularly if you are feeling down, tired or just randomly depressed?  Because there is something rare and affirming about briefly living stories about young people told in a true, honest and non-movie like way on a small canvas by mostly non-stars.  You might recognize Brie Larson and John Gallagher Jr. from television or film as the young couple but chances are you will be blown away by how many unknown teenage actors there are who can really act when given the material to do so.  For that the credit goes to its neophyte filmmaker, Destin Daniel Cretton – whose next movie will be a major studio film starring Jennifer Lawrence.  See – even the film business can occasionally be fair.

It should be encouraging to those aspiring to follow in the footsteps of Mr. Cretton to learn that the low-budget ST12 began life as a short film and then was expanded into feature script that no one really cared about until it won one the Motion Picture Academy’s prestigious Nicholl Fellowships in screenwriting.  The Lesson: don’t give up – keep getting better.

HBO’s Valentine Road

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Sometimes when I’m out of sorts it helps me to get infuriated at the injustices in the world – the stories of people I can identify with who’ve had it far, far worse than I.  To some extent this was the case in Short Term 12, but to every extent this is what it’s like to watch the HBO documentary Valentine Road.

In 2008, an eighth grader named Lawrence King was shot and murdered in point blank range by his classmate, 14-year-old Brandon McInerney in front of a bunch of students.  Does it matter than young Mr. King identified as gay and liked to wear women’s clothes while the classmate who killed him was leaning towards White Supremacy, guns and had a troubled family life?  Some of the jury tasked with ruling on the murder clearly thought so even as this film by Marta Cunningham leaves us to decide by as much as possible presenting both sides.

As a gay man of a certain age it outraged me to see how callous and ignorant a group of educated adults in Oxnard, CA – a neighborhood just outside my adopted hometown of Los Angeles – can be on lgbt issues and just how sympathetic and self-identifying they can be towards a young person who uses bullets instead of conversation in order to fight back against unwanted attention from an lgbt youth.  At times, I couldn’t help but flashback to the too common gay panic defense used decades ago by defendants accused of murdering homosexuals.  But then I checked my Filofax (yes, I still use one – get over it!) calendar and realized it’s not 1953 but 2013.  Wow, is there still a lot of work to do.

And on the other side of the spectrum  – when you can’t sleep and need a non-pharmaceutical dose of the drowsy, there is:

Up Late with Alec Baldwin

I'm guessing there's coffee in those mugs because.. snoooooze

I’m guessing there’s coffee in those mugs because.. snoooooze

Granted, I still haven’t gotten over his abusively hideous phone message to his young daughter several years ago even though his daughter has.   Which is not shocking since I’m still complaining about the 1968 moon landing. Still, I along with everyone else loved Mr. Baldwin on 30 Rock.  Plus, as a dangerously obsessive fan of too many MSNBC shows (yeah, Rachel, Alex, Chris M. & Chris H. – you complete me) I figured – let’s give Alec a chance.  Like me, he’s a liberal and unlike me he gets paid truckloads of money to be funny while evoking smart and generally entertaining.   What could be bad?

Everything, that’s what.  Oy vey.

Seated at a banquette on a set made to look like the kind of wood-paneled men’s club in NYC in the sixties that most of you readers would never get invited to, Mr. Baldwin is only missing his cigarettes and scotch.  Which frankly, I wish he would have had because either might have loosened him up and given us the AB we’ve grown to love and sometimes even lovingly hate.  In any case, either of those are AB’s we’re never, ever, ever bored by.

It’s only one episode so perhaps it will improve but right now we’re talkin’ snooze fest.  He spent an hour interviewing one of the more interesting NYC mayor candidates in recent memory, Bill  de Blasio and made him seem as exciting as Ben Stein interviewing himself on an off day.

Bueller

If you’re expecting Jack Donaghy, forget it – Mr. Baldwin now wants to be taken seriously.  He’s striving to be Charlie Rose but we want him to be Madame Rose (Note: that’s a Gypsy reference) taking us on a slightly eccentric tour of the world of politics and entertainment.  He instead seems bent on participating in a wonky policy discussion on raising taxes and funding education, all the while presenting his own ideas on what might work and not work alongside a real insider.  This would be akin to watching Mr. de Blasio trade comedic barbs with Tina Fey or 20 years ago starring on Broadway shirtless, as Mr. Baldwin did, opposite a pre-witchy Jessica Lange in A Streetcar Named Desire.  Okay, perhaps not quite that, but certainly a dull, dull, dull attempt at something that does not lend itself to his ample skills.

I might tune in next week when AB interviews Debra Winger but only because, well – how often do you get to see Debra Winger anywhere anymore???

And finally – if all else fails – I, and you, might just tune in to any:

RANDOM NEWS SHOWS 

Given where we are right now, this will never cease to be entertaining.

satan

Timely random items this week included:

  • Ben Carson, an African American man, an ultra right wing speechifier, a retired neurosurgeon, and a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom (you can thank Dubya for that), this week calling Obamacare (nee the Affordable Care Act):  the worst thing to happen in this nation since slavery. 

With tidbits like those, you don’t need Gravity to send you to the moon.  Or space travel of any kind to make it feel like you live in a parallel universe.  Sometimes, what’s right in front of you, is all too punny enough.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qtFBRJFN3p8