One Oscar After Another

One Battle After Another is that rare American film that simultaneously speaks to and skewers the times we live in.  

It’s original, unique, twisty, bizarre, seriously political and hysterically funny.

Call your friends. Tell them to see this movie.

And it’s going to get a boatload of Oscar nominations and likely win more than a whole handful.

Not that this kind of thing much matters given the times we’re living in. 

Just for a minute, let me think about awards shows!

But let’s discuss it anyway, since right now I’m tired of speaking to the fascistic moment of the day. 

Not to mention, One Battle After Another does it far better as we watch a real band of left wing radicals, who seem like lunatics but aren’t, take on a white Supremacist-powered American military hellbent on rounding up, killing or simply sequestering into truly crumbling sanctuary cities, every single person, especially those of color, who are not 100% onboard with its own even more radical agenda.

Yes, it’s a fictional, pushed reality world of the 1980s and 90s that Anderson started writing some years ago, partly inspired by Thomas Pynchon’s Vineland, but you don’t have to use your imagination much, if at all, to believe this is documentary footage from secret pockets of today’s America or its very near future.

You tell ’em Leo

That is what great filmmakers can do.  Make you think something is or could be happening right now and cause you to think about whether you want that reality and those consequences. 

And within that group there are a small chosen few that can even get you to uproariously laugh about the absurdity of the times we’re living in and the sheer narcissistic, animal destructiveness of what we’re doing.

There is an even smaller number, perhaps up to three, who can also pull this off using the tropes of a traditional family drama/love story.

PTA contains multitudes

But let’s get back to what really matters – whether PTA will win finally win his long-awaited, and very long overdue, Oscar(s) for his troubles.

It’s hard to imagine Paul Thomas Anderson, an ELEVEN time nominee who has never won an Academy Award, is sitting around wondering whether this will be “his year.”  That’s the purview of the press and everyone else who works in the industry who longs to win one.

This is not to say PTA doesn’t want to win or won’t be there to accept the one or two or hopefully three that might be coming his way.

Raise it up!

But when you’ve made so many memorable films, worked with the best in the business and remain one of a tiny group of truly successful and critically acclaimed American auteurs over the last thirty years that continues to swing for the fences every time you’re up at bat (Note: Yes, even I can do baseball metaphors when they apply), the surprisingly weighty little gold statuette, cool as it is, is more for the rest of us fans of the guy, than the guy himself.

Having only met him briefly one time at the beginning of his career, I have very little real idea of how he’ll react.  But I imagine him having a similar response to Martin Scorsese, when he finally won the award for The Departed, a solid film but pretty much no one’s top one or two films in his oeuvre.

Who will be PTA’s fab four?

After tumultuous applause there were numerous thank you’s and sincere words of being “overwhelmed” and “moved.” But what always stayed with me was his shout out to the many people who loved his movies for so long who were en masse pissed off that after Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas and The Aviator (Note: To name only a very few) he had yet to be “officially” acknowledged by his, ahem, “peers.”

…I just want to say, too, that so many people over the years have been wishing this for me, strangers, you know. I go walking in the street people say something to me, I go in a doctor’s office, I go in a…whatever…elevators, people are saying, “You should win one, you should win one.” I go for an x-ray, “You should win one.” And I’m saying,”Thank you.” And then friends of mine over the years and friends who are here tonight are wishing this for me and my family. I thank you. This is for you.

Delightful

Paul Thomas Andreson hasn’t been working nearly as long and has had a far different career.  But speaking for those of us who marveled at, were inspired by or simply loved movies like Boogie Nights, Magnolia, There Will Be Blood, The Master and The Phantom Thread, I gotta say:

He better f’n win one this time, and it’d be even more fitting for it to happen for one of his best and most timely films.

And we’ll all be Maya in that moment

As I continue to express the sentiments of the many who will continue to channel their gargantuan political anger into this year’s Oscar race, let me add this tidbit from a person who has spent his entire adult life in and around the movie business. 

I‘d venture to say it’s a lot harder to write AND direct so many interesting and outstanding films, much less get them made and released through the studio system these days, than it is to tear down a 250 year-old democracy.

Certainly, it takes a lot more talent.

And I will

Speaking of which, you don’t get to work with actors like Leonardo DiCaprio and Sean Penn, who deliver some of their most memorable recent performances in OBAA, or draw award-worthy performances from lesser known onscreen performers like Teyana Taylor and Chase Infiniti, if you’re not at the top of your game. 

Nor will you get a major studio like Warner Bros. to back you, especially on a $150 million plus budgeted project (Note: That’s before marketing) that speaks to THE hot button political issue of the day.

I have a sense some people are not thrilled with Colonel Lockjaw

The right loves to tar all of Hollywood with the same broad “overly woke brush,” but if you check the release schedule for every major studio the real revelation is how safe and essentially non-political the vast majority of major studio financed and distributed films there are, none of which come close to fitting comfortably into that category.

Would that it were the case.

Because if woke means being “awake” and “alert,” especially when it comes to inequality, racism, sexism and homophobia (just to name a few), one can’t help but wonder – why would ANYONE, much less SO MANY, be so virulently against it?

Certainly would be on the naughty list

Which brings us back to PTA and One Battle After Another and how he sets an example for any active or aspiring filmmakers out there.

Strip away all the successful films he’s made and all the awards he was nominated for and didn’t win, and you’ll find he’s a long-married husband to beloved comic actor/producer Maya Rudolph, and a family man/father of four biracial kids who sat down a few years ago to the same blank screen/page every creative person is faced with. 

And what he came up with was a story of an interracial couple in a far right dystopian American landscape and what silly and horrible things could happen to them and theirs if one day…

Did you have machine guns + nuns on your bingo card?

Eh, better to let him show and tell it to you himself and see if it rings true to what you’re watching happen all around you in real time.  And if you admire him for it.

As for the Oscar, well, that’s out of most of our hands.  Though hopefully not his.

Music and Trailer from One Battle After Another

Seventies Stories

We tell a lot of stories and we tell ourselves A LOT of stories.  Some of them are true but most of them are not entirely true.

Scratch that. 

None of them are entirely true because there is no absolute truth other than we will all die one day.

HAPPY JANUARY!

Resolutions be damned!

It’s better not to obsess about absolute truth or death because, really, what will that get us?  Instead, I’ve found over the years the better strategy is to accept that there are simply basic truths.

Like when you watch a group of many, many hundreds of weaponized people violently storm the Capitol building in Washington, D.C.  on, say, January 6, 2021, shouting they want to hang a US Vice President before he can, in an hour or two, ratify the results of a presidential election they didn’t like, this is, by definition, an insurrection.

That is because insurrection is defined as a violent uprising against an authority or government. 

You tell em, Lizzy!

It is also true because they built a gallows for the hanging, seriously injured and/or caused the death of many police officers AND destroyed many tens of thousands of dollars worth of government property in doing so.

On the other hand, there is no way to categorically proclaim Power of the Dog, a film I found beautiful to look at but vague and strangely homophobic in its vagueness, is the best movie of the year.

Now you might truthfully state it is the best REVIEWED film of the year and, by extension, a front-runner in the Oscar race for best picture and director.  But you can’t prove it is overall THE best by any rational standard.

Unless there is an Oscar for highest cheekbones, nothing is a sure bet!

No opinion of greatness is an absolute truth.  Just as no memory or memory piece is an absolute evocation of what literally happened.

The best we storytellers, which includes all of us (non-writers especially included), can do is capture a basic spirit of what happened and through character, plot and actions, show it to you.

This came to mind this week as I found myself debating the merits and debits of two films set in the decade I basically grew up in – the 1970s.  These would be Licorice Pizza and The Tender Bar.

Let me state at the outset that as a bit of an expert on the seventies, since I was at my most impressionable, observant and un-jaded at the time, both of these movies told the basic truth.

Double serving of 70s realness

This doesn’t mean they were brilliant or Oscar worthy or that YOU should love or like them.  Rather it’s that they were amazingly accurate on the essentials when so many stories about a particular place and time are not but pretend to be.

Most of the 1970s, particularly the first half, were really the tail end of what we now consider the cultural revolution of the 1960s. 

This was a time when everything felt adrift.  If you were coming-of-age at that moment your journey strangely coincided with the country’s journey.  No one knew what the new rules were in sex or sex roles; in politics and social settings; and to quote a 60s/70s expression, in love or war or the whole damned thing.

See: Peggy from Mad Men, Season 7

This made it a quite interesting but confusing time to grow up in.  To tell stories about it is like trying to hold a hyperactive puppy in your hands.  Just when you think you’ve tamed the impossible it wriggles out of your grasp and runs (or circles) in an entirely different direction.

I think this accounts for some of the disparate reaction to both films. 

The very reason I appreciate and enjoyed Licorice Pizza were the very reason four of the other five people watching the movie with me (Note:  Okay, yes, it was a screener and we watched it on Christmas Day at home!) lost interest.

The story of a weird, pseudo romantic relationship between a 15-year-old boy and a 25-year-old girl that unfolded in disjointed episodes where they sold waterbeds, met drug-fueled celebrities like producer Jon Peters and each grappled with their even stranger, ill-defined family lives, just wasn’t really compelling.

Even an unhinged Bradley Cooper cameo couldn’t do it for them

Yet for me, it was surrealistically accurate because that was what I saw as the story of the seventies.  Everything felt disjointed, and not merely because I was an adolescent.  It was a disjoined time and, in retrospect, a rather lovely one when you consider that the decade that would follow it were the Gordon Gekko-like greed is good eighties.

Sure, the seventies was also the era of Watergate but the eighties brought us Ronald Reagan. 

And let’s just let that sit there for a little while.

A chill just went down my spine

Okay, enough. 

The Tender Bar spends most of its time in the later 1970s and, as a memoir of a young boys’ coming-of-age, has a naturally gauzy quality to it.  But to its credit, it also doesn’t spare us the social reckoning that Licorice Pizza cleverly avoids. 

At this point, there was direct retribution and consequences for underage drinking, hitting women (note: particularly one’s wife) and the snobbism of economic class.  If it feels a little pat, well, at that time, on Long Island, if you were a teenager, it was a little pat.

I only know this because I grew up in Queens (Note: Not quite Long Island, but still….) and saw it play out in real time.  The years prior made it okay for kids to now call out adults in no uncertain terms.  In fact, it even got you support from that group of adults that had made the choice to evolve rather than stand their ground in insurrection to society’s changing norms.

AHEM

I loved The Tender Bar not because it was THE best of any film story but because it so entertainingly and boldly and emotionally told ITS story.  No one thought about being too sentimental because, let’s face it, it was something of an emotional time.

This was my truth of that moment and it happily coincided with what these filmmakers chose to show us.  Which is about the best you can hope to do as a storyteller of any kind.

Well done, Georgie.

Where we all get in trouble, especially society, is when we try to twist the basic truth into something patently and grotesquely untrue.

That’s not only unacceptable but it’s strangely un-American.  To this very American art form, that is.

Gordon Lightfoot – “If You Could Read My Mind”