I generally choose something familiar - KotOR, KSP, Firefly, what-have-you - but I do like to at least consider the things that are a little more fresh. As I was going back through the catalogue offered by 2015, I was surprised at how robust the offerings were. All told, this has been a pretty fucking good year for the shit I like to put on screens.
Since I was collating anyway, I figured I may as well divulge some of my insights so that you (the filthy masses) could benefit from my grand, divine wisdom. As I am aware that The Word causes madness in mere mortals, I have transcribed my insights from their pure, majestic form into a more easily digestible "list" for your benefit. It's a convenient form - I'm surprised the internet doesn't use it more often.
(None of this is in any particular order. There's not really a system here - I'm just kind of writing down stuff that makes me feel good when I think about it. Oh, and yeah - spoilers ahead.)
Mad Max: Fury Road
The conversation surrounding the sequel to George Miller's masterwork of post-apocalyptic violence was highly typical of the contemporary internet. Charlize Theron was in it, there were other womanz too, and there was something about the writer of the Vagina Monologues doing something? The point is, a lot of insecure MRAs got upset because they were afraid that feminists were ruining their car movies by putting ovaries in them, and every pathetic tweet these shitbabies spat out made me want to see the film even more.
It wasn't much of a surprise that Fury Road had Imperator Furisosa be an interminable badarse, but it was a surprise that (unlike a lot of self-proclaimed "feminist" movies) that wasn't all it had going for it. Fury Road had a brazenly anti-patriarchal message, delivered as harshly and unapologetically as a flame-throwing guitar solo.
I don't have the expertise to say whether or not Fury Road qualifies as "truly" feminist. Some argue that anything that paints violence as a useful tool never can be, as one of the only genuine biological differences between male and female is the enhanced ability of the former to wield violence against the latter, meaning violence is inherently patriarchal - others argue that it's "cartoonish" depiction of sexism draws attention away from the less-obvious, systemic oppression women face in real life. These are all good points.
For me though, the core message is the important one - We Need To Burn This Shit Down. There are a few "polite" forms of feminism that men find palatable because they don't need to forsake any of their unfair power - Fury Road says "fuck that". In order for women to achieve real equality, it necessitates the removal of power from men, and seeing that message in such a typically-masculine genre is significant. The film may not technically qualify as feminist, but it sure-as-shit isn't patriarchal.
As though that wasn't enough, Fury Road is a magnum opus of action. The blending of practical and computer-generated effects is seamless, the pacing is immaculate, and everything has a tangible, visceral weight to it. It's heavy - everything is made of metal and muscle and bone, and every detail of the film communicates that. The film is effectively one long chase scene, but manages to remain tonally and aesthetically varied throughout, never becoming stale. Despite everything going on, the film remains completely coherent - there's never a moment where you're confused as to who's attacking whom, or how Nux got on the rig, or why the war parties keep falling behind. The initial fistfight between Furiosa and Max is fast, heavy and desperately brutal, but we understand how Nux is able to trip Furiosa with the chain, or how Max ends up with the loaded gun. For me, Fury Road will be the yard-stick to which I compare action films for a long time.
The world of Mad Max has such incredible life and implied grandeur outside the frame - there's a reason this codified post-apocalyptia in basically every form of visual media that followed it. We don't know anything about how Furiosa went from an abducted child to Imperator, but we feel it has a lot more dimension to it than, say, how Kirk went from a shitty teenager to a shitty adult in the Abram's Star Trek reboot. We know almost nothing about the spikey-car team, or the dirt-bikers from the canyon, but they're presented with such charisma and visual distinction we don't doubt they they were formed in the world outside, rather than factory-printed like the clones in a Star Wars film. The world is alive, and we know it without even thinking about it.
Fury Road was an immaculate film. It wasn't perfect, but it was a lot closer to it than action films are generally required to be. It had surprising narrative depth, it was a feast for the senses, and contains the kind of distinctive characters I'll be impersonating for years. The film is, in the most literal sense of the word, iconic. It's rare for me to say this, but Mad Max: Fury Road makes me proud to be Australian.
Fury Road was an immaculate film. It wasn't perfect, but it was a lot closer to it than action films are generally required to be. It had surprising narrative depth, it was a feast for the senses, and contains the kind of distinctive characters I'll be impersonating for years. The film is, in the most literal sense of the word, iconic. It's rare for me to say this, but Mad Max: Fury Road makes me proud to be Australian.
The Martian
The Martian was something I first heard about through an XKCD comic, and I can't think of a better ad for it. I could almost have this entire section just be the link to that comic.
Space is cool, science is cool, and the wake of Breaking Bad was the perfect time to have a movie that deify the practitioners of it the way a heist film deifies thieves. The astrophysicists and engineers of The Martian are almost depicted like magicians, with each problem they encounter bringing an opportunity for them to floor us with another trick.
The comparison to a heist film I made earlier wasn't an incidental one - the broad structure of the film plays like an elaborate robbery where Mark Watney is the prize. The only difference is that, in something like Ocean's Eleven or The Sting, the characters have an elaborate plan from the beginning, and are slowly revealing it to us - in The Martian, everything is improvised.
One of the most novel things about The Martian is that there is no traditional villain - there's no character directly fighting against Watney's return, and certainly no one acting for purely selfish reasons. It would have been very easy, narratively, to have a member of the Ares crew try and sabotage the mission to save Watney so they didn't have to spend another two years in space, or someone in the Chinese Space Program trying to ruin NASA's reputation. Instead, we see a cast of characters with differing-but-completely-reasonable motivations doing the best they can to bring Watney home while minimising the damage/risk to their individual, secondary concerns. Everyone engages in every discussion reasonably, and at no point is Watney's life ever considered entirely expendable.
One of the most novel things about The Martian is that there is no traditional villain - there's no character directly fighting against Watney's return, and certainly no one acting for purely selfish reasons. It would have been very easy, narratively, to have a member of the Ares crew try and sabotage the mission to save Watney so they didn't have to spend another two years in space, or someone in the Chinese Space Program trying to ruin NASA's reputation. Instead, we see a cast of characters with differing-but-completely-reasonable motivations doing the best they can to bring Watney home while minimising the damage/risk to their individual, secondary concerns. Everyone engages in every discussion reasonably, and at no point is Watney's life ever considered entirely expendable.
A minor concern I had initially was whether or not I could handle a two hour "bottle episode". Matt Damon is a good actor, and he has decent range, but one look at a trailer for The Martian had me saying to myself "wow... this is the most bro this man has ever broed". The fact that he didn't become totally intolerable by the end of the film is a testament to its editing. We're given enough time away from Watney and with other characters, giving the film a lot more balance.
If there is one place in which the film was wanting, it was tension. As I said before, it had a lot more in common with a heist film than a thriller, and as such I never really doubted the prowess of the characters. Having only one character on Mars meant that I never really thought anyone was going to die - the Ares crew doing their Mars flyby was the only time anyone life was really in question, from a narrative standpoint. Additionally, I didn't think we were left with enough time during some of Watney's emergencies before the solution arrived - the consequences of a setback didn't really have time to land.
Still, The Martian was excellently constructed, and refreshingly grounded. After the somewhat lukewarm Interstellar last year, it was great to see a much more focused movie with a less theoretical/fanciful scientific framework.
Yay, Science!
If there is one place in which the film was wanting, it was tension. As I said before, it had a lot more in common with a heist film than a thriller, and as such I never really doubted the prowess of the characters. Having only one character on Mars meant that I never really thought anyone was going to die - the Ares crew doing their Mars flyby was the only time anyone life was really in question, from a narrative standpoint. Additionally, I didn't think we were left with enough time during some of Watney's emergencies before the solution arrived - the consequences of a setback didn't really have time to land.
Still, The Martian was excellently constructed, and refreshingly grounded. After the somewhat lukewarm Interstellar last year, it was great to see a much more focused movie with a less theoretical/fanciful scientific framework.
Yay, Science!
Jurassic World
Mainstream entertainment is hugely bloated at the moment - studios spend more and more money on projects, and as such are less and less likely to take risks on new IPs. This is generally a huge problem, as it means instead of something fresh and interesting we generally get Transformers 6: Dark of the Evil. Still, that doesn't mean I'll turn my nose up at every reboot and sequel that comes my way, and Jurassic World was an excellent reminder as to why.
As Sun Tzu once said "To make a totally-bitching reboot, you need to understand the original, and you need to understand yourself. To know only one, is to make Robocop 2014." (This is one of my favourite passages in The Art of War - it's beautiful in the original Chinese).
The reason Jurassic World succeeds is because it knows what it wants to be, and it understand what that looks like when standing next to it's inevitably-more-masterful counterpart. It's self-aware, and more than that Jurassic World communicates that self-awareness to us.
This, primarily, is done through Lowery's hipster/fanboy routine. Lampshading is generally a cowards attempt to have their cake and eat it too ("I know this scene is super transphobic, but look! One of the characters pointed it out! It's satire now!"), but in this case it was a definite boon. Lowery is an ironically-ironic character, loudly parroting the primary criticism the film was sure to receive: "This is just a big, souless cash-in! The last park, that was legit, that was authentic - this is just a flashy rip off." To which Jurassic World responded "Yep! And you're going to love every second of it."
And we totally did.
And we totally did.
Another element that highlights the self-awareness can be seen in the gyrospheres. The iRex attack on the sphere is a clear callback to the T-Rex/jeep scene in Jurassic Park, but with a huge dash of ridiculous slapstick on top. The iRex struggles with the sphere like a kitten figuring out a chew toy, all while screaming children flail around inside a hamster ball. It's the same, but dumber - and it's basically a metaphor for the entire film.
If the film has a downside, it's certainly the flatness of the characters. Oh look, a rugged, smooth-talking man's-man and a uptight, sexually-repressive professional woman. I wonder if they're going to have several scenes of sexually-charged banter and then make out real hard? Oh look, they did! Hey, a surly teenaged boy! Is he going to spend most of the film irritated with his wide-eyed younger brother until a moment of emotional vulnerability reminds them both that family is the most important? Yep!
If the film has a downside, it's certainly the flatness of the characters. Oh look, a rugged, smooth-talking man's-man and a uptight, sexually-repressive professional woman. I wonder if they're going to have several scenes of sexually-charged banter and then make out real hard? Oh look, they did! Hey, a surly teenaged boy! Is he going to spend most of the film irritated with his wide-eyed younger brother until a moment of emotional vulnerability reminds them both that family is the most important? Yep!
But let's be honest - none of us were coming to Jurassic World to see The Usual Suspects. Hell, half of us weren't even coming to see Jurassic Park - we were there to see Pacific Rim. We were there to see Godzilla. We were there to see a genetically-enhanced Supersaur fight a fucking T-Rex. We were there to see Chris Pratt dive into a Raptor cage, fling up his hands and go "Whoa whoa whoa." We were there to see children in a tour-vehicle get mauled by something massive, and a whole bunch of hapless Disneyland attendees get carried off by giant birds.
Jurrasic World delivered.
Inside out
Oh, a Pixar film - what a surprise it's on a "best movies" list. Before you dismiss this as dyed-in-the-wool fandom (something that if I don't have for Star Wars I'm unlikely to have for anything), allow me to elucidate as to why it's on mine. Be warned, it's going to get a little real - like, at least 30% real.
I suffer from depression. Mental health is the only significant way I depart from hegemonic ideals in Western society (well, that and perhaps physical appearance), and so it's really the only way in which I'm directly affected by issues of representation in media. If you've gotten this far it's fairly obvious I think about all kinds of representation issues in film, but the depiction of mental health issues is one of the few that actually affects me.Far, far too often, depression in film represented in ways I find really distasteful. Whether it's the shallow, pretentious, objectifying romanticism of something like Birdman, or the disgustingly over-simplistic depictions in something like Garden State or Silver Linings Playbook (you don't need medicine, you just need a pretty girl to make you feel special and alive!), it's rare that honest and effective discussions about mental health can be found in most places.
Outside film, the messages are rarely better. Facebook and Twitter are downing in messages about the power of positive thinking, implicitly accusing people being responsible for their poor mental health due to weakness of character (some, like the image to the left, literally point the finger at the reader). "Just cheer up! Don't you realise it's your own fault you're unwell? You wouldn't have depression if you just chose to be happy. Embrace positivity!"I made a joke recently about how suggesting a person with depression suddenly start being positive to help their mental health is like telling a homeless person to buy an investment property to help their financial situation. The thing you're asking them to do requires the very thing they lack. The idea that a person can just "choose" to be cured of an illness is fucking ridiculous. More than that, it's completely counter-productive. Making people feel shame dosen't help. Making people self-judge due to poor mental health is one of the fastest ways to exacerbate it. People need to be treated with care and acceptance, and if they're incapable of providing it to themselves (you know, because of their illness) it needs to come from the people who love them.
So when I went into Inside Out I wasn't optimistic. I went in guarded, expecting this film to once again implicitly blame me for my own mental illness, and tell me the only thing I needed to be happy was to suppress my negative thoughts and feelings and just choose joy. I went in there expecting to be made to feel isolated, broken, selfish, weak and alone. Imagine the overwhelming, cathartic release when the message of Inside Out was the complete, polar opposite.
The message of Pixar's Inside Out is that mental and emotional health come from accepting our feelings without judgement. Inside Out depicts depression as a bleak lifelessness, a hollowness, a lack of vitality - all incredible distinct from simple sadness. Inside Out shows us that a primary cause and effect of depression is the emotional isolation we feel from those in our lives. The very thing that brings Riley back to a state of lucidity and a sense of safety is realising she can be sad, that she can confess emotional frailty, that she can need the emotional support of others, and that none of that makes her selfish.
Much of Riley's depression is enhanced by the pressure to put on a happy facade for her family, and another brilliant element of the film is showing how innocently and naturally those pressures arise. The pressure Riley's mother puts on her isn't selfishly motivated - she isn't forcing Riley into a beauty pageant or whatever - it's for the sake of Riley's father. Riley's mother doesn't even really ask Riley to do it, she's just really thankful that it's been happening. The fact that the most explicit moment of pressure Riley feels to perform joy is in a positive moment, where her mother is motivated by nothing other than compassion, shows how complex and innocent social pressure can be. It shows how depression can arise and thrive even in an environment of love and support, so long as the sufferer still feels alone.
When I saw Inside Out I cried - I cried like it was the end of Free Willy. Never in any children's film have I related so immediately with the main character. This film affected me deeply, and I'm a relatively-informed adult with two years of psychological therapy behind me - I can only imagine how transformatively powerful this would be for a child suffering depression without knowing it.
The fact this film exists is incredible. Between Inside Out, Frozen, and Big Hero Six, I've never been happier for the state of children's films.
Ant-Man
The best way to explain Ant-Man's significance is, unbelievably, through a pun: Ant Man is necessary because it's a Marvel movie that's small in scope.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe is a juggernaut at the moment. It's hard to think of another time in cinematic history where something akin to this even existed - a massive, interconnected series of films where the actions in one contextualise and influence the entire conglomerate. None of these film are strict sequels of one another, but they all exist in the same narrative space.
It's daunting. How do you tell a compelling story when that story, purely due to statistics, is unlikely to be the most interesting story in its world? How do you have a threat to Earth that justifies the attention of Thor, but not the attention of Iron Man or the Hulk? How do you make anything that isn't directly related to the universe-ending threat of the Infinity Gems seem like it matters?
You lower the fucking stakes, is what you do.
Ant-Man resets the baseline for that experience. It's almost entirely new characters who aren't trying to save the world, they're just trying to steal something. It takes place in a handful of locations, something like 70% of which is just the Pym household. We're never wondering why they don't call Captain America or whoever, because they're just a bunch of nobodies and has-beens, and in the grand scheme of things it's a tiny fucking problem they just have to solve themselves.
And it works. It works because it's intimate, and novel, and we don't have to strain ourselves contemplating the vastness of it all. The film doesn't have to worry about anything outside the focused story it's telling. It can dedicate real time to developing the characters it has, rather than the six or seven hundred heros fighting for screen-time next Captain America film.
Having the space to introduce some of the "B-list" characters is going to be invaluable for Marvel and Disney going forward, because lets be honest, here - we can't just keep doing Iron Mans (Iron Men?) forever. A new roster needs to be introduced, so that when Chris Evans decides he wants to go off and win an Oscar, we have people to fill Captain America's shoes. Having people already in place helps.
But do audiences give a shit about that? Of course not! We liked Ant-Man because Paul Rudd was sad/funny, and because of all that awesome Thomas The Tank Engine stuff we saw in the trailers.
Of course, nothing is without faults. The movie's most annoying point was how it constantly pointed out the unfairness in Hope not being allowed to do anything as a contrivance to prevent her from doing anything. The romantic development between her and Scott also felt a little forced. Some people have said that Luis conforms to a lot of lazy South-American stereotypes, which is hard to argue against. Also, the villain (who's name I can't even remember) was just a boring shit until he put the suit on.
The fact that Edgar Wright walked away from the project due to creative differences Probably needs to be mentioned, too. It's kind of unfortunate, but I'd rather have him making rad shit than just putting his name to shit he hates. Disney hold the reigns pretty tight on their properties, and although that mightn't be ideal you can kind of understand it.
Ant-Man was a fun movie that let us enjoy the Marvel flavour without have to swallow a big heaping side of Thanos alongside it. It was an absolute joyride, and I'm really hoping that the inevitable Spider-Man film takes a lesson from it in terms of scale.
The Marvel Cinematic Universe is a juggernaut at the moment. It's hard to think of another time in cinematic history where something akin to this even existed - a massive, interconnected series of films where the actions in one contextualise and influence the entire conglomerate. None of these film are strict sequels of one another, but they all exist in the same narrative space.
It's daunting. How do you tell a compelling story when that story, purely due to statistics, is unlikely to be the most interesting story in its world? How do you have a threat to Earth that justifies the attention of Thor, but not the attention of Iron Man or the Hulk? How do you make anything that isn't directly related to the universe-ending threat of the Infinity Gems seem like it matters?
You lower the fucking stakes, is what you do.
Ant-Man resets the baseline for that experience. It's almost entirely new characters who aren't trying to save the world, they're just trying to steal something. It takes place in a handful of locations, something like 70% of which is just the Pym household. We're never wondering why they don't call Captain America or whoever, because they're just a bunch of nobodies and has-beens, and in the grand scheme of things it's a tiny fucking problem they just have to solve themselves.
And it works. It works because it's intimate, and novel, and we don't have to strain ourselves contemplating the vastness of it all. The film doesn't have to worry about anything outside the focused story it's telling. It can dedicate real time to developing the characters it has, rather than the six or seven hundred heros fighting for screen-time next Captain America film.
Having the space to introduce some of the "B-list" characters is going to be invaluable for Marvel and Disney going forward, because lets be honest, here - we can't just keep doing Iron Mans (Iron Men?) forever. A new roster needs to be introduced, so that when Chris Evans decides he wants to go off and win an Oscar, we have people to fill Captain America's shoes. Having people already in place helps.
But do audiences give a shit about that? Of course not! We liked Ant-Man because Paul Rudd was sad/funny, and because of all that awesome Thomas The Tank Engine stuff we saw in the trailers.
Of course, nothing is without faults. The movie's most annoying point was how it constantly pointed out the unfairness in Hope not being allowed to do anything as a contrivance to prevent her from doing anything. The romantic development between her and Scott also felt a little forced. Some people have said that Luis conforms to a lot of lazy South-American stereotypes, which is hard to argue against. Also, the villain (who's name I can't even remember) was just a boring shit until he put the suit on.
The fact that Edgar Wright walked away from the project due to creative differences Probably needs to be mentioned, too. It's kind of unfortunate, but I'd rather have him making rad shit than just putting his name to shit he hates. Disney hold the reigns pretty tight on their properties, and although that mightn't be ideal you can kind of understand it.
Ant-Man was a fun movie that let us enjoy the Marvel flavour without have to swallow a big heaping side of Thanos alongside it. It was an absolute joyride, and I'm really hoping that the inevitable Spider-Man film takes a lesson from it in terms of scale.
Jupiter Ascending
Let me say this upfront: this movie is trash. However, it's the kind of trash I think is worth pointing to. Jupiter Ascending is made by the Wachowskis, and the similarities it has with the Matrix are what grab my attention. Sure, it's vaguely sci-fi, and has some pretty decent action and effects, but the thing I'm interested in is what Jupiter Ascending actually is: awesome teenage wish-fulfillment. Unlike the Matrix, though, this is targeted at millennial girls, rather than Gen X boys.
Whether you want to admit it or not, if you're a dude and you were under the age of like 22 when you first saw the Matrix, part of the reason you liked it is because Neo made you feel special. Hey, you don't have an easy time getting along with people at school? It's actually because you see through the veil, man. You know the world isn't real - you know it's all bullshit. You don't fit in because you're better and smarter than most people, and you don't swallow the lie like all those sheeple out there. You're just like, Neo, man - you're really cool, and can wear sunglasses at night if you want.
Jupiter Ascending is pretty much the exact same thing, but instead of the digital messiah, you're a magic immortal space princess.
The movie certainly had issues: Pacing wasn't tight, and some of the chase scenes went on a good 70% longer than they should have. Jupiter nearly making an agreement with an obvious enemy only to have Caine swoop in and save her at the last minute would be fine if it happened once, but it literally happens four times in the movie.
Some of it was also more convoluted than it needed to be - Caine, for example, is a Werewolf thing? And that's the same as Sean Bean's bee thing, but also different? And Caine can fly because of his shoes, but he also needs his wings? Which is different again from his Werewolfness, so he's also kind of a cyborg Angel person? And he's in the army, but are the army separate from the monarchs, or do they serve them? And if they are separate, who do they answer to?
In reality, though, none of that really matters. What matters is that Channing Tatum came from space to tell you that you are, literally, the most important person in the universe, and also that you should make out.
Some dudes might say that's really juvenile and lame, but I'd ask them to remember how it felt to hear Morpheus say "You are the One, Neo." You don't think girls deserve that feeling, too?
Jupiter Ascending is pretty much the exact same thing, but instead of the digital messiah, you're a magic immortal space princess.
The movie certainly had issues: Pacing wasn't tight, and some of the chase scenes went on a good 70% longer than they should have. Jupiter nearly making an agreement with an obvious enemy only to have Caine swoop in and save her at the last minute would be fine if it happened once, but it literally happens four times in the movie.
Some of it was also more convoluted than it needed to be - Caine, for example, is a Werewolf thing? And that's the same as Sean Bean's bee thing, but also different? And Caine can fly because of his shoes, but he also needs his wings? Which is different again from his Werewolfness, so he's also kind of a cyborg Angel person? And he's in the army, but are the army separate from the monarchs, or do they serve them? And if they are separate, who do they answer to?
In reality, though, none of that really matters. What matters is that Channing Tatum came from space to tell you that you are, literally, the most important person in the universe, and also that you should make out.
Some dudes might say that's really juvenile and lame, but I'd ask them to remember how it felt to hear Morpheus say "You are the One, Neo." You don't think girls deserve that feeling, too?
The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Guy Ritchie is a surprisingly difficult director for me to get a line on. He made some incredible distinct British crime films, then he cast Robert Downey Jr. in the first movie with quick-time-events, and now he reboots some series from the 60's I'd never heard of before. But hey, it had Henry Cavill in it, so it was an opportunity to see if Superman had any range.
Turns out he does. And it also turns out that Guy Ritchie doesn't really ever make bad movies.
It's hard to say in a concise way what makes The Man From U.N.C.L.E. work as well as it did, other than something really nebulous like "it was new to me, and didn't have too many major flaws". Really, the defining element of Ritchie's films is charisma. Even when they're brutal, they're fun, and this is a film didn't even have to overcome any brutality.
There are a number of interesting aesthetic choices that hearken back to the cold-war era without being stale or cliche'd, and some shots that have a weird kind of two-dimensional depth to them. I know that sounds contradictory, but if you've seen the film I hope you understand what I'm talking about - it's like a deliberate shallowness to some of the CG, that makes it seem a lot more dynamic that pure photo-realism would. The point is it's distinct, and interesting, and evokes a particular atmosphere we associate with the golden era of spy films.
It also ends with one of the most high-octane, mudslinging car chases I've ever seen. That was memorable, too.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. does have a few issues with its female characters. Depicting Gaby as a damsel and later revealing she was actually a high-level spy might have been cool and subversive, if she wasn't then immediately captured and made helpless by the enemy. It's always tempting to say "Well, it's emulating a different era, so it's not really sexist," but then again Fury Road came out this year, hopefully immolating that bullshit argument forever. Still, Gaby did have some dimension to her, and wasn't totally without agency and voice.
All in all, it's certainly a fun movie worth seeing, if for no other reason than 'The Whisper'. I won't ruin it for you, and it's hardly meme-level material, but it's still pretty great.
Turns out he does. And it also turns out that Guy Ritchie doesn't really ever make bad movies.
It's hard to say in a concise way what makes The Man From U.N.C.L.E. work as well as it did, other than something really nebulous like "it was new to me, and didn't have too many major flaws". Really, the defining element of Ritchie's films is charisma. Even when they're brutal, they're fun, and this is a film didn't even have to overcome any brutality.
There are a number of interesting aesthetic choices that hearken back to the cold-war era without being stale or cliche'd, and some shots that have a weird kind of two-dimensional depth to them. I know that sounds contradictory, but if you've seen the film I hope you understand what I'm talking about - it's like a deliberate shallowness to some of the CG, that makes it seem a lot more dynamic that pure photo-realism would. The point is it's distinct, and interesting, and evokes a particular atmosphere we associate with the golden era of spy films.
It also ends with one of the most high-octane, mudslinging car chases I've ever seen. That was memorable, too.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. does have a few issues with its female characters. Depicting Gaby as a damsel and later revealing she was actually a high-level spy might have been cool and subversive, if she wasn't then immediately captured and made helpless by the enemy. It's always tempting to say "Well, it's emulating a different era, so it's not really sexist," but then again Fury Road came out this year, hopefully immolating that bullshit argument forever. Still, Gaby did have some dimension to her, and wasn't totally without agency and voice.
All in all, it's certainly a fun movie worth seeing, if for no other reason than 'The Whisper'. I won't ruin it for you, and it's hardly meme-level material, but it's still pretty great.
Ex Machina
What can I even say about Ex Machina? I was fucking floored by this movie. This is probably the best film I've seen in ten years. It's good - like, Fight Club good.
To say why would take me hours. I could write a thesis on this movie. Every single element of it is so deliberate, so cohesively important to the contention of the film, and that contention is so perfectly built and delivered I can't think of a better form it could have taken than this one.
I urge, with every shred of my being, that if you haven't seen Ex Machina yet you skip this section. Find the movie and watch it. Turn off your phone and watch it without distraction. Make it the only focus of your attention. Please don't ruin this for yourself by reading what I have to say first. These words will still be here in a week, but you'll only have one chance to watch that movie uncoloured.
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Pretty fucking great, am I right?
It's quite strange to say "this film has feminist themes, but it's something most women won't fully get." Generally it's the other way round - generally, the particular perspective or viewpoint a film takes is inaccessible to those with privilege, but in this case it's the actual perspective of the privileged that this film explores. The male gaze is required for this film to have its complete effect - it requires that lifetime of social training in masculinity, and it requires that inherent understanding of how men view women. Not just an academic understanding, but a experiential understanding.
Just so we're being clear - I'm not saying women can't follow or understand the film, I'm just saying they can't know it as naturally or immediately as men can. By the same token, women can understand a movie like Fight Club, but engagement in that film is much easier if you carry masculinity.
Fight Club capitalises on the appeal of toxic masculinity (violence, domination, stoicism etc) to draw men in, then subverts expectation to make us examine our relationship with toxic masculinity. In the same way, Ex Machina capitalises on a male readiness to occupy the position of the male gaze, and then rips the carpet out from under us to make us question our relationship with that position.
This is done though Caleb. Caleb is immediately contrasted with Nathan. Caleb is lighter, kinder, less arrogant, less physically fit, less alcoholic, less rich and less competitive. He's less typically masculine than Nathan, and Nathan is clearly a prick. Caleb is the character that men in the audience will relate to the most.
Caleb is The Good Guy. Caleb is me.
The thing the film is trying to say is that even the good guy is still, inextricably, a guy.
Caleb doens't realise it, but he is objectifying and coveting Ava. He wants her. Maybe you don't think that's a bad thing, but ultimately his relationship with Ava is a selfish one. He constantly views her through security cameras, engaging in voyeurism while she's locked in a cage. We know he wants to fuck her, and we know he wants to free her, but would that second desire exist without the former? Would he want to free her if it meant no physical boon for himself?
When Caleb and Nathan are talking about the iterative process of designing the AI, and that Ava will eventually be deleted, Caleb admits that he knew there must have been previous women that Nathan built. He didn't give a fuck about the fact that they died - he only cares that his woman might die. He only cares because it's something that'll be taken away from him.
Later, when Ava is skinning the other robots and placing the flesh on herself, Caleb watches her through the windows of the office. He sits there, as hauntingly beautiful music plays in the background, watching Ava dissect other machines, confident in the belief that she's doing it to please him. He's feels so naturally entitled to female affection that he finds this scene of vivisection and body-alteration enticing.
Just a brief reminder to the men reading this, Caleb is you. Caleb is the character you related to the most, right? And that's so deliciously brilliant it makes me want to dance. They fucked with us so well, guys. Did you walk out asking questions about yourself, like I did? Did you walk out wondering if any relationship you have with a woman is free of exploitation? Did you ask yourself if it's even possible to have a relationship that isn't, on some level, sociopathic?
I did.
Every relationship in the film in manipulative and exploitative, but Ava's is the only one motivated by something non-trivial - survival. She manipulates Caleb because if she doesn't she will die. It's next to impossible to look at that and consider it unfair. She's not the bad guy.
You are.
And this is why I say that men will understand this film in a different way to women. Men will relate to Caleb in a way that women won't. We will understand his desires and motivations, on a base level, in a way that women won't.
As if the incredible execution of the films themes wasn't enough, it's a visual and technical masterpiece. The characterisation is flawless.
The first time we see Nathan, for example, is in the context of violence - he's using a punching bag. He's strong, and a physical threat, and we're consistently reminded of that throughout the film. From the outset we see him as controlling - when Caleb displays discomfort, Nathan attempts to force him to relax. We also see him as manipulative - whenever Caleb references a quote, Nathan pretends not to recognise it, attempting to mask his intelligence while simultaneously mocking Caleb. We know that he's always the smartest person in a room, and we see how that affects the worth he places on other people. Perhaps most obviously, the way he treats Kyoko and Ava show us how he constructs women in his mind, and how that informs the way he designed them.
All of this is important, because initially we believe that everything that Nathan is, Caleb is not. Because Caleb is The Good Guy. But by the end we realise that Caleb has much more in common with Nathan than anyone would like to admit. The characterisation of Nathan informs the themes of the film, and imforms us about ourselves.
Every technical mastery in the film does this - the presence of security cameras draws our attention back to Caleb's viewing of Ava. Count how many times the camera literally occupies Caleb's perspective.
And the use of the abject - fuck me, the use of the abject...
For those who don't know, "the abject" (also referred to as "the uncanny") refers to a sense of discomfort when confronted with something that's familiar, but isn't easily categorised. It blurs lines and straddles boundaries, and that makes us exceptionally uncomfortable. The classic example is comes from robotics: R2-D2 is cute and likeable because he's obviously not human, and Robert Downey Jr is likeable because he's obviously human. A weird animatronic character from Disneyland is unsettling, because it's somewhere in between.
Ava is obviously abject when we fist see her - she's not obviously human or inhuman. She's deliberately shown to have robotic parts, but a clearly human face. She unsettles us.
However, human beings learn relatively quickly, and before long we adapt to Ava's appearance and find her less unsettling. What does Ex Machina do to handle this?
It changes her appearance. Every time we start adapting to Ava's form, she'll put on clothes, or a wig, but the change is never perfect. You can catch a glimpse of her chassis under her collar, you can hear the slight whir of the motors that drive her limbs, or the faint metallic clunk as she kneels down. When she finally does get a "perfect human" appearance, it's set against a scene of violence, and she skins other androids to achieve it.
The entire film walks this ever shifting, abject line. We're never fully comfortable, and the film works very deliberately to make that so. The soundtrack is both haunting and beautiful, the facility looks both like a hotel and a prison. Bizarre curveballs are thrown at us, like the moment when Kyoko and Nathan start dancing, just to keep us from settling down. All of this serves to keep us in a state of relative tension.
To say why would take me hours. I could write a thesis on this movie. Every single element of it is so deliberate, so cohesively important to the contention of the film, and that contention is so perfectly built and delivered I can't think of a better form it could have taken than this one.
I urge, with every shred of my being, that if you haven't seen Ex Machina yet you skip this section. Find the movie and watch it. Turn off your phone and watch it without distraction. Make it the only focus of your attention. Please don't ruin this for yourself by reading what I have to say first. These words will still be here in a week, but you'll only have one chance to watch that movie uncoloured.
...
...
...
Pretty fucking great, am I right?
It's quite strange to say "this film has feminist themes, but it's something most women won't fully get." Generally it's the other way round - generally, the particular perspective or viewpoint a film takes is inaccessible to those with privilege, but in this case it's the actual perspective of the privileged that this film explores. The male gaze is required for this film to have its complete effect - it requires that lifetime of social training in masculinity, and it requires that inherent understanding of how men view women. Not just an academic understanding, but a experiential understanding.
Just so we're being clear - I'm not saying women can't follow or understand the film, I'm just saying they can't know it as naturally or immediately as men can. By the same token, women can understand a movie like Fight Club, but engagement in that film is much easier if you carry masculinity.
Fight Club capitalises on the appeal of toxic masculinity (violence, domination, stoicism etc) to draw men in, then subverts expectation to make us examine our relationship with toxic masculinity. In the same way, Ex Machina capitalises on a male readiness to occupy the position of the male gaze, and then rips the carpet out from under us to make us question our relationship with that position.
This is done though Caleb. Caleb is immediately contrasted with Nathan. Caleb is lighter, kinder, less arrogant, less physically fit, less alcoholic, less rich and less competitive. He's less typically masculine than Nathan, and Nathan is clearly a prick. Caleb is the character that men in the audience will relate to the most.
Caleb is The Good Guy. Caleb is me.
The thing the film is trying to say is that even the good guy is still, inextricably, a guy.
Caleb doens't realise it, but he is objectifying and coveting Ava. He wants her. Maybe you don't think that's a bad thing, but ultimately his relationship with Ava is a selfish one. He constantly views her through security cameras, engaging in voyeurism while she's locked in a cage. We know he wants to fuck her, and we know he wants to free her, but would that second desire exist without the former? Would he want to free her if it meant no physical boon for himself?
When Caleb and Nathan are talking about the iterative process of designing the AI, and that Ava will eventually be deleted, Caleb admits that he knew there must have been previous women that Nathan built. He didn't give a fuck about the fact that they died - he only cares that his woman might die. He only cares because it's something that'll be taken away from him.
Later, when Ava is skinning the other robots and placing the flesh on herself, Caleb watches her through the windows of the office. He sits there, as hauntingly beautiful music plays in the background, watching Ava dissect other machines, confident in the belief that she's doing it to please him. He's feels so naturally entitled to female affection that he finds this scene of vivisection and body-alteration enticing.
Just a brief reminder to the men reading this, Caleb is you. Caleb is the character you related to the most, right? And that's so deliciously brilliant it makes me want to dance. They fucked with us so well, guys. Did you walk out asking questions about yourself, like I did? Did you walk out wondering if any relationship you have with a woman is free of exploitation? Did you ask yourself if it's even possible to have a relationship that isn't, on some level, sociopathic?
I did.
Every relationship in the film in manipulative and exploitative, but Ava's is the only one motivated by something non-trivial - survival. She manipulates Caleb because if she doesn't she will die. It's next to impossible to look at that and consider it unfair. She's not the bad guy.
You are.
And this is why I say that men will understand this film in a different way to women. Men will relate to Caleb in a way that women won't. We will understand his desires and motivations, on a base level, in a way that women won't.
As if the incredible execution of the films themes wasn't enough, it's a visual and technical masterpiece. The characterisation is flawless.
The first time we see Nathan, for example, is in the context of violence - he's using a punching bag. He's strong, and a physical threat, and we're consistently reminded of that throughout the film. From the outset we see him as controlling - when Caleb displays discomfort, Nathan attempts to force him to relax. We also see him as manipulative - whenever Caleb references a quote, Nathan pretends not to recognise it, attempting to mask his intelligence while simultaneously mocking Caleb. We know that he's always the smartest person in a room, and we see how that affects the worth he places on other people. Perhaps most obviously, the way he treats Kyoko and Ava show us how he constructs women in his mind, and how that informs the way he designed them.
All of this is important, because initially we believe that everything that Nathan is, Caleb is not. Because Caleb is The Good Guy. But by the end we realise that Caleb has much more in common with Nathan than anyone would like to admit. The characterisation of Nathan informs the themes of the film, and imforms us about ourselves.
Every technical mastery in the film does this - the presence of security cameras draws our attention back to Caleb's viewing of Ava. Count how many times the camera literally occupies Caleb's perspective.
And the use of the abject - fuck me, the use of the abject...
For those who don't know, "the abject" (also referred to as "the uncanny") refers to a sense of discomfort when confronted with something that's familiar, but isn't easily categorised. It blurs lines and straddles boundaries, and that makes us exceptionally uncomfortable. The classic example is comes from robotics: R2-D2 is cute and likeable because he's obviously not human, and Robert Downey Jr is likeable because he's obviously human. A weird animatronic character from Disneyland is unsettling, because it's somewhere in between.
Ava is obviously abject when we fist see her - she's not obviously human or inhuman. She's deliberately shown to have robotic parts, but a clearly human face. She unsettles us.
However, human beings learn relatively quickly, and before long we adapt to Ava's appearance and find her less unsettling. What does Ex Machina do to handle this?
It changes her appearance. Every time we start adapting to Ava's form, she'll put on clothes, or a wig, but the change is never perfect. You can catch a glimpse of her chassis under her collar, you can hear the slight whir of the motors that drive her limbs, or the faint metallic clunk as she kneels down. When she finally does get a "perfect human" appearance, it's set against a scene of violence, and she skins other androids to achieve it.
The entire film walks this ever shifting, abject line. We're never fully comfortable, and the film works very deliberately to make that so. The soundtrack is both haunting and beautiful, the facility looks both like a hotel and a prison. Bizarre curveballs are thrown at us, like the moment when Kyoko and Nathan start dancing, just to keep us from settling down. All of this serves to keep us in a state of relative tension.
To wrap this exceptionally long section up: Ex Machina is a fucking masterpiece. Even if every single theme goes straight past you (which, if you read the internet, seems to be a lot of people) there's still a really strong thriller underneath it. With those themes, though, Ex Machina becomes the kind of film I didn't think could be made anymore - a new IP that makes us look at our own inherent selfishness, and exploitativeness. A film that asks us if we're capable of being better than what we've been trained, since birth, to be. A film that tackles feminist themes in a way directly addressed to men. A film that makes us ask if we're really as good as we think we are, and whether our desires and motivations are as noble as we'd like them to be.
The End
So those were some of The Best And Most Cool Movies From 2015 That I Liked - By David. There was other stuff I would have liked to cover here, like Far From Men, Mr. Holmes or Beasts of No Nation that I didn't get around to seeing yet, which disappoints me quite deeply. I was also considering mentioning The Force Awakens, but I figured there's enough mystique surrounding that one to foster it's own post. Regardless, I'm sure there's more than enough brilliant genius in the content above to feed your puny intellects for quite a while, so I'm not too cut up about it.
I hope you're all enjoying your final day of 2015 - now if you don't mind, I'm off to play Minecraft.
Yeah, that's right - didn't even end up picking a movie.
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