Blue Velvet

I have read a lot of different pieces in a lot of different places that basically say Blue Velvet has a "surreal menace," or something to that effect. That is a pretty succinct and accurate summary of the movie. There are not any explicitly supernatural elements, the kinds that pop up in other Lynch work, but there is a nightmare logic to the whole film and also to the characters and events. It's not that Frank Booth could never exist in the real world. It's just that he seems to be unstoppable. In fact, the whole thing is like a nightmare that is terrifying for its plausibility. Everything is hazy, heightened, but not outside the realm of possibility. As much as I love David Lynch when he goes for full-on surrealism, this might be him at his most terrifying. 

And yet, as a viewing experience, it was not as disturbing as I thought it would be. I think this is the main reason I avoided it for so long, because I thought watching it might leave me disgusted. Definitely an uncomfortable watch, because it's ugly and challenging and shows suffering, particularly of a woman at the hands of a psychotic man. But at the same time it's so atmospheric and immersive, and the character we view as the clean cut hero is, deep down, anything but. So, complex. It walks a fine line; it's provocative, but not for its own sake. It is art because it has something to say, even if you don't like it. Blue Velvet shocked me but did not offend me. After everything it portrays, there is an ending that is anything but nihilistic. It is not exploitative, but it's almost as if Lynch is daring you to think it is. Perhaps everything I've written here just proves that the feelings a great film evokes are difficult to put into words. Also, the use of music and the scenes that feature these songs are some of the most haunting and effective. "In Dreams" even more so than "Blue Velvet."

David Lynch

I watched Twin Peaks: The Return shortly after it was released on DVD at the end of 2017. As a fan of the original series who, for some reason, had not watched any of David Lynch's films at that time, I was in awe of the series, which felt like a project with little to no interference from producers or the network, etc. A fully realized artistic vision, I thought. It's been too long now since I've seen it for me to write about it intelligently. But there was just this feeling that Lynch was finally able to explore this universe unfettered. It probably is self-indulgent in places, it certainly drags and tests one's patience in places, but overall the magnificent moments outweigh any of those concerns. It certainly has one of the most harrowing and yet oddly satisfying final scenes. (Mild spoiler alert). Nothing is solved. Nothing is solved, everything is still broken, chaos reigns. Unlike so much of David Lynch content (which I have to think about, feel, sit with), that I got right away. It just hits you and you get it right away. And the chills you feel are this weird combination of dread but also pleasure at how he nails the ending in the most Lynchian way possible. 

Anyway, all this is to say that since Lynch's recent death, I have watched four of his films that I had never seen before, and this brings the grand total of Lynch films that I have seen to six, plus all of Twin Peaks. I'm working on it. And sometimes it does feel like work. Four films to go. I thought I would write briefly about three of the films I recently saw for the first time. I am going to write a separate post on Blue Velvet, which of the four I saw was the biggest revelation for me, and the film I think is the most successful (although they're all successful).

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me 

I can only imagine unprepared Twin Peaks fans in 1992 going to see this film without any exposure to David Lynch's other work. As long as you go in knowing that this film is a lot bleaker and a lot less quirky than the show, you'll probably be okay. There's all the dark stuff here without much Agent Cooper or James or the Log Lady and none of the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department, i.e. the good guys who provided some kind of light and comfort in Twin Peaks world. That lighter tone is not here, very purposefully I think. I guess almost all Lynch films are nightmares, this one included. Sheryl Lee is great and was more than capable of carrying the entire film. She should have had a more successful career. Just the look of horror on her face (never mind her screams) is so expressive and convincing. I don't know how she does it. A harrowing but pretty incredible final fifteen minutes. The final scene is an interesting contrast to the final scene of The Return. It's pretty dark stuff, but feels essential to the greater Laura Palmer story.

Eraserhead

What a surprise: it’s basically pure nightmare, and for added resonance, I held a squirming baby while watching it. It really does capture the horrors of new parenthood (without including any of the joy). The not being able to sleep rang especially true. And there's so much here that is echoed and expanded upon in his later work. Imagery and themes. I'm not sure what kind of re-watch value it has for me personally, but it's hard to think of a more Lynchian feature-film debut than this. One thing I like about David Lynch is that in the moment a lot of it doesn't make sense to me, but I am never able to simply dismiss any of it. In Eraserhead specifically I'm thinking of the pencil-making scene. The longer I think about it (and I always do with David Lynch), the more it starts to kinda sorta make sense. Not only does the title of the film come from this scene (I thought at first it was only because Henry's head looks like an eraser), but eventually you realize that the old pencils are being used to make new pencils, and maybe that's some kind of metaphor for parents and children and life. Not that Lynch would ever tell you what anything "means". The surrealism draws us in, makes us scratch our head, and then we realize that what's underneath it all is something we are very capable of understanding. 

Lost Highway 

So many memorable and even iconic scenes. I'm thinking of any scene with Robert Blake. He's a real highlight. A classic David Lynch grotesque character. I felt the slowness more than I have previously with David Lynch films. What I probably need to do is watch it again. The scene where he says "I'm there right now" just works so well, even out of context on YouTube (which is where I first viewed it). And if you watch this scene enough times (I always need to watch a scene more than once to notice much of anything) you start to see how the dialogue, the actor's line delivery (and his look), the sound design, and Bill Pullman's reaction in this scene all combine to make for such an unsettling experience. I started to kind of figure out exactly why I was so unsettled, beyond just knowing that I was. Maybe that sounds pretentious, but it's not always an easy thing, figuring out why a Lynch scene makes you uncomfortable! There is a lot more to the film than just Robert Blake of course, but it's also hard to discuss without spoiling, and I feel myself running out of steam. If you're into Lynch, I think probably all Lynch is necessary Lynch, even if it isn't all equally resonant to all viewers. With the possible exception of Dune, although I'm even happy I saw that one. 

Movies of 2021 Part 1

 

    I haven't been writing and I haven't been watching films. While I like to do both, both have suffered greatly as I spend most of my free time reading. It's a unique problem to have: reading getting in the way of one's screen time. Apart from Goodreads reviews, I haven't been writing about reading either. My initial desire was to blog about both reading and watching films. After a quiet movie year in 2020, 2021 saw the release of a lot of critically acclaimed films, most of which I still have not seen. But I'm beginning to remedy that, and to get back into the habit of watching movies, and balancing that against reading and working and other things. So, these are the really good to great 2021 films I have seen so far. My goal is to see as many of the Best Picture and Oscar adjacent films before the awards are given, although I also realize that the Oscars completely ignore a lot of really good films, performances, etc. A lot! But now that it's 2022, here are some 2021 films I have caught up with, and briefly, what I think of them. Oh, and where ratings are concerned, I've been converted to the five star way of thinking after prolonged  use of both Goodreads and Letterboxd. 

    Bergman Island ****1/2

    This really worked for me. I was completely taken with the performances of Vicky Krieps and Mia Wasikowska. They are both physically arresting on screen, and more importantly, both are excellent actors. I was hooked on Krieps's story. Then the Wasikowska story within a story began, and I was truly fascinated. And of course I was also taken in completely by the island itself. Beautiful. The film strikes a wonderful balance of absolutely being a tribute to Bergman, influenced by Bergman, but also being its own film made by a very talented filmmaker with a unique vision.

    The French Dispatch ****

    A film I had to sit with for awhile. It all seemed to move very fast, and I was expecting more stories, wanted more stories. Some may say it is the most Wes Anderson film yet, but I would argue that in some way it felt different. Maybe I just noticed more than usual. Or felt like I should have noticed more? Because again, it all seemed to go by so quickly. But I like what I saw. And I need to re-watch. I can tell you this though: Jeffrey Wright is great and should have gotten Oscar recognition with a nomination at least. The big question really is though: why put Elisabeth Moss in a film if you aren't going to use her? That really made no sense. She appears at the beginning and again at the end and is given virtually nothing to do except sit in a chair and deliver maybe two lines?

    The Green Knight ****1/2

    I loved everything about it. The central performance from Dev Patel, who portrays Gawain as a lovable ne'er-do-well who really has no idea what he is doing or what he is up against. The fact that the King and Queen look so bedraggled and unglamorous. The ambiguous (is it though?) ending that perfectly portrays the spirit of the original poem, if not the same ending. Alicia Vikander, wonderful in a duel role. The generally dirty, dark, sometimes barren landscapes that give even the scenes of magic a realistic feel. 

    The Lost Daughter ****1/2

    A great debut from a first time director that poses questions about parenthood and one's suitability to parenthood while also being that rare film that succeeds at telling a story about memory and making it feel as all consuming for the audience as it does for the protagonist. I think, not easy. Of course Olivia Colman was the right choice to portray this difficult, interior person while also portraying her depth and eliciting empathy. Jessie Buckley might be even better as the younger version of the character. Also, great music, and a great final scene/cut. The Academy could have made room for this on the Best Picture list, knocking off something like say... Don't Look Up? Just a thought...but it's nice to see two of the leads recognized for their work.

Nightmare Alley ****

Dark as pitch and hopeless. With a protagonist who, because of his insatiable desire for money and fame, cannot escape his fate. In other words it's everything a film noir should be. Every performance is top notch, especially Bradley Cooper in my favorite performance of his to date. Willem Dafoe is having fun. Rooney Mara, Toni Collette, and Cate Blanchett are all excellent.

Power of the Dog ****1/2

Benedict Cumberbatch will surely win the Best Actor Oscar? Not that it really matters. Although it surely matters to him. He shows a range here I did not think he had, and I was pleasantly surprised by that. Parts of the film, the subtext, can feel a bit overstated at times (so not subtexty I guess). But there are also twists in the film that I never saw coming and at the same time felt earned, not cheap. It's a film I think one must watch more than once to fully appreciate (I have only seen it once). It is literary, beautiful to look at, with four very strong central performances. You likely will not see the ending coming, although the groundwork is there. I certainly did not see it coming. And I think there is just enough ambiguity or subtleness to what happens and how it happens that it is really satisfying to go back and fill in the timelines and character motivation for yourself.

Princess Cyd (2017) ****

Princess Cyd is another quiet surprise, a film with a very specific scope whose main concern is its characters and the relationships between these characters. Movie-wise, the stakes are small, but feel real, and the two leads play the often understated, quiet scenes perfectly. They are contrasting characters, and at first it might seem like they each fit two very different character “types,” but as the film goes on, we see their complexity and the ways they vary from the conventions of these types. The film attempts naturalism, and succeeds, I think, because it still feels like a film, which for me is an essential balance.

Jessie Pinnick plays Cyd, a sixteen-year old spending the summer in Chicago with her aunt, Miranda Ruth, a well-known novelist. The two haven’t seen each other in years, and the film doesn’t feel obligated to explain why that is, although it likely has something to do with the circumstances surrounding the death of Cyd’s mother (Miranda’s sister). The burgeoning relationship between aunt and niece feels authentic, and the film wouldn’t work if it didn’t. A lesser film might go for histrionics between the two characters, but the script here has the characters slowly, quietly get to know each other, as each brings out as yet unseen traits in the other. It’s almost as if we see both Cyd and Miranda tweak their own character in order to better appeal to, and eventually understand, one another. The other central relationship of the film is between Cyd and Katie, and the film handles this story of sexual awakening in the same quiet, gradual way it handles the familial relationship. For me, this also makes for a much more authentic portrayal; it feels closer to how these things exist in the real world than it does to how they might typically exist in the world of film or fiction. Princess Cyd was a moving experience for me: a delicate, beautiful film about the desire and ability to understand and appreciate one another. 

4/4

First Reformed (2017) ****

A film to haunt you, with a bleak we are already in hell motif that is reaffirmed in scene after scene. I came to the film with no real expectations or pre-conceived ideas of what it was all about, apart from the basic premise of a man of God struggling with his faith. As it turns out, First Reformed is that but it is also much more, and it is darker and more intelligent that I imagined it would be. It's about a man trying to keep the few slivers of hope he has left alive in the face of a community and a world that seem largely ambivalent about their future. Bergman's Winter Light is an influence, and although I've never seen it, I am familiar with some of Bergman's other films, and the sense of melancholia and hopelessness presented here feels so tonally similar. While a larger, present-day crisis is integral to the plot of this film, it's not in the end a film about that crisis but about how that crisis pushes a man already teetering further towards the edge.

It's unforgivable that Ethan Hawke was not nominated for an Academy Award for his performance as Reverend Toller. The Oscars get it wrong a lot, but this feels like an especially brazen oversight. There is a quiet intensity to Hawke's performance (a phrase I hear a lot, but in this case it's very accurate), and a lot of that has to do with the bleak expression he wears throughout most of the film. He looks miserable, with his constantly furrowed brow and deadened eyes. The quiet delivery of his lines, and the fact that his character is so often not saying what he wants to say is devastating because we know, from the narration of his diary, that he is a man in turmoil. I am failing at describing what exactly it is that Ethan Hawke does that makes his performance so good, but it is so understated and restrained and perfectly compliments Paul Schrader's script and direction.

4/4

The Favourite (2018) ****

What to write about The Favourite that has not already been written? I am late to the game on so many acclaimed films of the last few years, and so I do not necessarily have anything new to add to the conversation. The Favourite is like other films you may have seen, but it's also very different because it is very much its basic description: Yorgos Lanthimos directs a costume drama. But that very basic description should also convey just how complex the film is, and in many ways the material and the director are a perfect match. Lanthimos's previous films could easily be described as baroque in the sense that they are grotesque, excessive. But here we have a story that takes place just after the actual Baroque period, and has the opulence and over indulgence baked right into the setting of the film and the lifestyles of its characters.

The most enjoyable aspect of the film really is just the audacity of Lanthimos as a director, and the audacity of the characters in his film. The entirety of the film is a vicious competition between Lady Sarah (Rachel Weisz) and her cousin Abigail (Emma Stone) to be the favorite of Queen Anne (Olivia Colman), a position which comes with a lot of influence. At the start of the film Lady Sarah essentially is the queen, as Anne is incapable and uninterested in making even the most basic decisions on her own, never mind important matters of state. To say anymore about the competition that ensues would be to spoil the plot and the thrill of watching these characters behave badly.

The camerawork, the score, the writing are all excellent and entire essays could be written about each, but I think so much hinges on the three central performances here. All three characters illicit sympathy even though they probably don't deserve it. Emma Stone provides such nuance to a character who easily could have been a one-dimensional social climber. Rachel Weisz is warm, yet terribly intimidating at the same time, and brings this palpable tension to each scene. Olivia Colman plays a physical and emotional wreck, and I think the genius of her performance is that she pushes back against the notion of Queen Anne as the most sympathetic character. Also, Rachel Weisz has this beautiful, beautiful voice that I never fully appreciated before watching this film.

It's just the kick in the pants the period drama needed.

4/4

Under the Silver Lake (2018) ***1/2

Under the Silver Lake presents a surreal, at times horrifying world that is maybe not too far removed from the one we live in. Really it's not so much subverting the noir genre (which was my expectation going into the film), but magnifying it, and throwing in some surreal images and humor. I guess that makes me sound a bit pretentious... Really, it's a classic noir story: down on his luck guy finds himself caught up in a web of violence and deceit after the disappearance of his beautiful neighbor. Just as in a Raymond Chandler novel, the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles is on full display as our protagonist Sam (Andrew Garfield) looks for answers: first to the disappearance of Sarah (Riley Keough, real-life granddaughter of Elvis), and second to the conspiracy that emerges along the way.

The film doesn't shy away from the ickiness of it all. This includes Garfield's character, who really isn't an especially upstanding guy, although he's certainly not evil, and the film gradually reveals his moral compass. Part of what makes the film so good is the complexity the script and Garfield bring to Sam. What begins as a lustful infatuation evolves into genuine curiosity, then concern, and finally an obsessive pursuit for the truth. Sam's character at his core doesn't really change, but the mystery he happens upon shakes him out of both his physical and emotional lethargy. The added touch I really loved, that also subverts the genre a bit, is the fact that seemingly nearly everything everywhere is a clue.

My appreciation for this film is owed to my love of classic noir literature and films, as well as a fairly healthy appreciation for the popular surrealism of someone like David Lynch. This isn't Twin Peaks-level surreal, but if you hate surrealism, or have little interest in the noir genre, this might not be the film for you. As it is, it's enormously entertaining and just delightfully weird, as long as you are open to going where the film wants to take you.

3.5/4