A solid gem from my homeland. I hope this will be released at some point… it’s too good to stay in the closet.
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As Manohla Dargis wrote in her New York Times review, Taika Waititi’s Hunt for the Wilderpeople “takes a troika of familiar story types” the plucky kid, the crusty geezer, the nurturing bosom” and strips them of cliche.” This charming Kiwi feature (Waititi also directed the hysterically funny What We Do in the Shadows), served as a spirit-lifter following Tuesday’s shocking election result. Not enough to last four years, but…
In Kelly Reichardt’s haltingly beautiful Certain Women, three seemingly disparate stories play out in Montana. The self-absorbed protagonists (and by that, I mean the central characters) of each story “struggle” with issues that are more-or-less inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Contrast the “hardships” of their lives with those of hard-working Native American Jamie, played so beguilingly by newcomer Lily Gladstone, and it’s difficult to feel much sympathy for them.
In my favorite of the three stories, Kristen Stewart’s character, Beth, is particularly devoid of empathy. She teaches a weekly evening law class in a rural school, which lonely Jamie sits in on, for the lack of anything more interesting to do. The two form a “friendship”, which consists mostly of Jamie listening adoringly to Beth telling her how awful her life is, and how much she hates making the long drive to teach the class. After Beth fails to turn up to teach her class, Jamie ekes out the time from her hard-scrabble farm routine, to drive the same distance to find her. A heartbreaking (mine) encounter ensues. Jamie: “I don’t mean to keep you from getting to work or anything… I just know if I didn’t start driving, I wasn’t going to see you again. Didn’t want that.”
Reichardt drills down keenly on the lack of connection these three contemporaries seem to have with the people around them, and fittingly, brings the three stories together in a way is neither connected or important.
Not for those with limited attention spans, admittedly… that’s one problem I don’t have. This is Indie cinema at its gorgeous best.
Another problem I don’t have? An unappreciative MovieNight audience 🙂
Tonight’s screening of Rams took a few of our diehard football fans by surprise… apparently, they were expecting a documentary about one of their favorite teams.
Of course I jest. Another gorgeous MovieNight experience, well attended, and well appreciated… and the popcorn was even well popped this time. Once more, I’d like to leave the final pronouncement to Mike D’Angelo, from his review for The Onion A. V. Club.
In its lovely final scene, Rams unexpectedly transforms from comedy to something far more poignant, and that shift reverberates backward through the entire movie, even recontextualizing all the nude-dude jokes. It’s a neat trick, and serves as a welcome reminder that Icelandic cinema (a) exists and (b) has a flavor of its own—part goofy, part tender.
When I first watched Mistress America last spring, I found it really annoying and pretentious… I believe I described it as “up its own ass”, when discussing it with my good friend Marcy (A.K.A. Bob), who had worked on the coloring of the film with director Noah Baumbach. “Really? I thought it was super funny.”, was her reply. She encouraged me to give it a second chance. Of course, she was right. Apparently I had watched it at a time when my “irony gene” was temporarily disabled.
Miss Gerwig, who co-wrote Mistress with boyfriend Baumbach, was deliciously goofy and self-deprecating, in that New York manner of faux-confidence. My favorite line: “There’s no cheating when you’re 18—you should all be touching each other all the time.”
Tonight’s screening brought my personal The Night of the Iguana count up to about twenty! As always, it was great to see this wonderful film again, and even greater to see the faces of Iguana virgins and veterans alike light up with surprise and joy.
Incidentally, The Night of the Iguana has been MovieNights 1, 65, 122, 201, 319, 375, and 431. As the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon would say, “Fantastical.”