Thursday 1 November 2018

An Unconventional Review Of First Man

The following is an unconventional review of First Man, a movie directed by Damien Chazelle which stars Ryan Gosling as Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the moon. This review is less about the abilities of the crew to create a cinematic experience and more about how that experience became something more penetrating to the following viewer.


Let me begin by saying that I am not trying to exaggerate when I say just how powerful the following experience was to me. Whether I have chosen to or not, the emotions I have felt and the thoughts that I have dispelled have a degree of insincerity compared the reality of my being. There is no way for me to convey the strength that I felt that will not come off as incredulous. For my experience was aided by a psychedelic enhancement. I went about this journey of the self in the most contrived and intolerable manner. So I understand if all that I evoke is sneers and if what I represent is a pretentious intoxicated fool. I cannot fully comprehend your understanding of the world and meld myself well enough to build the gateway between our selves to a mutual reality. For that I am sorry. But so much of our matter is the same that I may still be able to relate what I felt to some degree.

As you can already tell, this review of First Man will stand to be more literal than other iterations. What I aim to achieve with this piece is to replicate the altered state that I was in upon viewing the film to the best of my linguistic and creative ability. Though film criticism is generally a subjective matter, one can hope to inject some objectivity by relating it to schools of thought and common approaches that have shown to be successful. To focus on First Man in any objective terms will be near impossible. For it in conjunction with the sedative sensations brought about spiritual passion. Passion has no place in objectivity, but I was so overwhelmed by it in the moment that I cannot help but speak about it. Absurd as it all may seem, the journey of one man to the moon dramatized by Hollywood artists provided an understanding deeper than the darkest depths of the oceans.

I went in, expecting nothing more than a bit of fun. So often I heard that anecdotal rubbish of enhancements to your media-viewing experience. That whole line of “gaining a better understanding of your fellow man” felt like posturing from lowlifes that had thrown their life away to loaf about. But given that I had a chance to indulge, I opted to explore the possibilities. I did not feel it so much to discredit them as I did not think to even consider the potential effects. It was more an experiment. So I went in, securing my treat, and consumed it right from the start.

At first, I thought I had made a mistake. The movie opened with a heavy dramatic sting of Neil Armstrong struggling to maintain control of the world around him. Death was a common visitor and his aspirations of becoming the first intergalactic pioneer dwindled with each day. The discrepancy between my childish expectations and the intense reality being presented felt comical to me, but no humor should be derived of a man suffering from a loss of a child. So I focused in on the movie, absorbing its beautiful, haunting visuals and sublime musical score. Every motion felt disorienting, every sound locked into a collective harmony. The dialogue and performances all felt so pointed, so carefully designed. But it did not feel relevant to the larger context this movie was framing.



Midway through the film, something unlocked in my head. I had become so glued to the narrative in front of me, I did not bother to check on my self. When I did, my vision contorted into fish eye lens. My hands had shrunk and would do so even more as I extended them outwards. Each motion I took was sluggish, without concern for gravity or speed. I began to feel as though the film I was seeing was tangible. It wasn’t physically speaking – I could not pluck out the moon from the sky and crumble it with my hand. But I could feel its pulse, I moved along with the movie in such a profound way, that each beat that it took was not only logical but enlightening.

We often perceive ourselves as minimal. As such, we believe we are only capable of minimal thought. Sure, we think more than any other animal in the world, but fundamentally speaking we are limited by size and scope. We inhabit only three of the possible dimensions out there. Bats hear more than us and shrimp see more than us. So as such, the idea that we are even capable of extending our minds far beyond the stars is one that is scoffed that. Indeed the movie presents how dismissive everyone is sending a man to the moon when there is more important matters to attend to. Important meaning within our own control. We are minimal, so we think minimal. That assertion is immensely flawed and demeans humankind, equating ourselves to tortoises without the reflexes to avoid a sledgehammer dropped from fifty stories above it.

If we are truly so worthless to be as a species, then how can we bring ourselves to reach further from our current capabilities? Why did we flirt with oblivion to establish ourselves as beyond the scope of a blue marble sitting above the dustbowl of darkness? Are we just simply unable to admit to the awesome might we possess and instead meander about with squabbles so granular that they slip from the seams of time like sand in a sieve? We could truly ascend if we took a collective pause and fused our potential together to piece the void with colorful force. First Man made it so clear that our potential is hypergalatic.



However, it was only the moon that we went to. No more beyond that. My claims of the experience with a cinematic masterpiece appear more as deceitful incomprehension and incredulous hyperbole of our proportion to the universal populous. But what I found from my stay in the delicate machinations of Damien Chazelle’s making and what befell to my greater senses is the important of Armstrong’s journey to that silver satellite that circles our world. Him analogous to him and his team and all who assisted them. They all sliced through that stable flux that we had of our own understanding. That our own eyes brought about a massive lie. They proved that we can derive order more grand than the glands inside our brains. They brought us clarity and introduced us to the third eye. It is the eye that we all share, one that sees the galaxy for the attractive desolation that it is.

For Neil to peer out to the far side of another celestial body, for them to view a new horizon was a risk so high it would be like pleading for success from rolling the universal die. The gamble stacked against us to lose smashed out all existing expectations and deserved more elation that in got. In one moment, Neil was every possible permutation bound by reality of a person that could come to be. Our whole kind streamlined to a synecdoche of an Ohio astronaut. Collective deaths, stresses, worries, concerns, pains all burdened upon Neil, forming courage for the path ahead. With that, the glass of our cosmic creation shattered and charged through to reach to the edges of one of its cliff sides. And there in the emptiness of space, we were reminded of our plight. Of what should be our true goal.


(closest image to a scene in the movie)

The whole performance was empowering, the viewing of our self confronting reality and acting as it were in our grasp to control it so hopeful. The sets so real made even more by what affected my system. It only seems more bittersweet how fleeting it was that it was just scraping the confines we were in. We have not yet slipped through the holes we made and journeyed any further. When Neil stepped on the moon, that step was into a new realm. And much like his step, Neil was frozen, overwhelmed by the success of this grand experiment. The moon was nothing more than grey powder, but stepping on it was pressing down on space itself. But the significance of this achievement was ignored, as we ignore our miracle of our unique existence. All the odds that we beat to be so unimpressive to us, we collective mope and double down on crawling into the crevices we made to cope with a growing human misery.

Amidst melodic visuals and striking melodies, First Man erases concepts of humanity and instead imposes exposure of us at our most finite of molecular congregations. We are dried and hung up by the universal thread of our existence. Every concept that we’ve concocted fades away into the odyssey as the fuel for our prodigy against the solar systems’ forces. We tore a hole for insight into our whole – the whole of our meaning.

Immediately after viewing the film I eased my way home, owning up to my existence and doing my best not to be overwhelmed. Here I was, a singular individual with their minuscule concerns still fortunate to carry along with a multitude of seconds allotted to me. But with an experience that had left me with a sentiment so impactful, majestic and cryptic, I could not let it fall to the wayside. I wrote eight pages of what was on my mind. It could not compare to what I thought up while in the theatre and even what is on here now is not what was on the page. It is the modification of a recollection of the echolocation of the mental dictation that took place. What has resulted is a riddle that is both trying to be established and trying to be solved at the same time.

The difficulty is that there does no exist a logical system to formulate the question that was posed to me in my viewing of First Man. Nor does there exist one to solve it. The words that I write are incapable of the emotions and the realizations that were so visceral that I felt them as a waterfall of my soul. Awash with confusion, my hands helplessly articulate my efforts to defeat this intellectual incompetence. Alas, all I can muster that is properly comprehensible is my adoration for the movie and the experience. With the right combination of entertainment and recreation, it seems one can discover a greater understanding of us as a whole. First Man was a beauty beyond compare, far ahead of 2001 for bringing a more personal touch and adding our amazing potential for the greater good. If I ever return to that warped perception into greater self-realization, I hope I amass more of a better understanding of our state. Perhaps then I can improve in how to communicate the awe of sinking between dimensions.



I know that this is not something to play around with. These things are not meant to be abused. They have a time and a place. Additionally, what I saw in the film will not be what I may see in the film, nor what you may see. So I cannot encourage the experience outright as much as I give it glowing praise now. Instead I can offer an imitation of a fraction of the emotion I felt overall. There’s a song in the film, Quarantine. It plays right around the end of the film. There, a harp plays softly as one listening can imagine a silence of sight. A theremin looms over as the bright edge of a new celestial body. The two waltz together and a new body is formed. In there, a new understanding is made that relaxes the tensions of everyday grievances. Confidently we must continue into this illusionary stabilization that we’ve developed to fight against the cosmic truth. One’s spirit can take a deep breath, alleviating pressure caused by the current disease we’ve afflicted on ourselves. This is the only thing that can remind me of the epiphany I had: the paradox of our lives is how we futile beings have the immense ability to give purpose to our being.

Saturday 22 September 2018

Fahrenheit 11/9 Review


Given that we're nearing the midpoint of Donald Trump's tenure as leader of the free world, it's surprising just how little we've seen of him in film. It's not a bad thing, but given how television is drowning in supposedly witty zingers about Number 45, I would have expected to seen more of him on the big screen. At the very least, I was expecting 10 crappy impersonations spray-painted orange to have popped out of some raunchy low-budget comedy making a joke that even in 2008 would have been too easy. But instead I suppose we got the next best thing, a Micheal Moore documentary focused on him which inverts the date of the most catastrophic attack to occur on American soil in recent history. Godwin only knows what will come out of that bout of subtlety. 

To Fahrenheit 11/9's credit, Trump doesn't really become the main topic so much as Trumpism being the umbrella of which the movie's topics fall under. Much of what is discussed about Trump is already known: he's a narcissistic pervert, the media has done a great job of playing into his hands, and he has gotten away with so much garbage right out in the open. Even the opening makes a point about how the campaign was all a publicity stunt. This all serves as contextual fodder to segue into recent events such as the West Virginia teacher's strike, the Parkland shooting, and of course the Flint water crisis. In fact, Flint takes up such a significant part of the film, that it almost seemed as though Moore was intending to go with that first but then had to adapt it to Trump now that he was president. Course, that would be ignoring how Moore was pretty much on the money about the Don. 



While there is a great deal that is being juggled, Moore does well enough to tie everything together but the tone does take some sharp turns that can be as disorienting as the daily news. In his other works, Moore does well to provide a good balance of humor and calm to an otherwise grim or upsetting reality that he constructs. Fahrenheit 11/9 diminishes its comedy for a starker reminder of the damage that has been wrought. The humor is isolated into small segments that are inundated with so much panic and deadpan conversations that any relief that you might've gotten is lacking. Perhaps this adds to the urgency but it further confuses what Moore's trying to aspire to, a commentator or a propagandist. 

Its brand of alarmist comedy reminds me of Full Frontal With Samantha Bee, as it appears to want to be more proactive in pushing its message and uses jokes as the ice pack that the punch delivers. Both also attack the threat from within, calling to that old political adage that Democrats are a bunch of spineless compromise-happy liberals. Moore's efforts to puncture the Democrats certainly was a lot more biting, as he chided Hilary for her complacency to the presidency and disgusting perpetuation of political establishmentarianism along with Obama being a fraud of progressive ideals, using Flint itself as one of the turning points. I've heard these points before, but having someone more mainstream as it were making them was heartening to see. Much as I would commend him for pushing the envelope a little, I can't help but feel like its not enough to win over those that feel that he's just flirting with progressivism. Despite him have some decent credibility to being a leftist rather than a run of the mill liberal, he did not necessarily hold Obama to the same fire that he has chosen to roast both Trump and Bush under. Not to mention that he still can come across as nothing more than a celebrity armchair activist. 

Perhaps the reason that I find myself so mixed on the film is because I'm mixed on the country itself. It is a nation that willingly has blinded itself to the ugly truths before it. It's one where disgraces are perverted to noble traits. It's so horrifically dismissive to consider that the entire nation approves on the travesties that the government commits domestically and worldwide or that they are merely idiots that cannot help to fall into their worst impulses out of ignorance. But they exist and they represent the United States of America. Internal divisions have distracted from larger threats that have permeated in the system and the wounds of partisanry are so deep that it does feel like something truly ugly could come to pass. Fahrenheit 11/9 encourages one to be on the alert, to not depend on easy solutions, and that eventually a collapse of the system will come, be it by the force of the people or the faulty structures caving in. Yet, it only seems that those motivated will be those that already were. And I bet you they're already doing something else than going to the movies to watch this. 


Saturday 15 September 2018

Can You Ever Forgive Me Review


Everyone's got an actor that they seem to enjoy on-screen but others tend to dislike. Perhaps we just cling to the few good roles that they've had and excuse the rest of their garbage. Or maybe it's part of our idiosyncrasy. To me, I've felt that Melissa McCarthy has been that actor. It feels to me like she's in a similar position as Adam Sandler: loved by the industry, but despised by the public for participating in comedies that aren't even worth the dignity of the dollar bin. Barring the touchy subject of the Ghostbusters remake, she has gotten the reputation as overly reliant on simple slapstick humor and being seen as just loud and obnoxious. However, I happen to believe that she does well with the crass and brash character type, being able to hone in her strengths and mold them into whatever role she's put into. Think of it like how Jack Nicholson uses anger, or how Nicolas Cage uses his batshit insanity. She might not be on par with them, but she can offer more than just pratfalls.

Of course, if one wants to see what a comedic actor is truly made of, they always have to look to the dramas, and Can You Ever Forgive Me? looked to be the one that would bring Melissa's acting credibility up a notch. Based on Lee Israel's eponymous memoir, Melissa stars as the author, struggling to make ends meet as she's a minor name in the literary world. Her latest work on Estée Lauder hardly garnered any attention and her agent Marjorie (Jane Curtin) is hardly helping her out. As she does research for her next book, she comes up with the idea to forge letters from Noël Coward, Dorothy Parker, William Faulkner and many more. She works with her friend Jack Hock (Richard E. Grant) to sell the forgeries and begins to befriend a local bookstore owner, Anna (Dolly Wells), to whom she sells her letters to along with many others.  

Marjorie makes a point that the reason that Lee doesn't have the same level of fame as Tom Clancy is that the subjects that she writes about aren't "sexy". To some effect one could say the same about the film's concept. Forgery isn't exactly the most exciting crime to tackle. Marielle Heller understands this concern and manages to do an excellent job of elevating the entire experience. From the montage of forging and selling letters to the camera closing in and appearing from unconventional angles when the tension builds, the scheme takes on a more glamorous appearance. It does well to punctuate the emotion in a scene and maintain the attention of those that might not initially be intrigued by the premise. Peppered in the dialogue are an assortment of witty moments (mostly coming from interactions between Lee and Jack) and a seemingly romantic relationship brewing with Lee and Anna that add to the film's richness.


Without a doubt, Melissa McCarthy does a spectacular job in the lead role. As mentioned before, the aggressive and blunt personality that comes through in many of her roles is prominently on display. Lee Israel is portrayed as sophisticatedly uncouth, as she is both knowledgeable of figures in high society and is a foul-mouthed alcoholic. Her sensitivity comes through as much as her toughness as she is relatively vulnerable given her situation. McCarthy has found herself in roles that try to justify her hard-shelled nature as merely a protection mechanism to the harsh criticisms of the outside world, but Can You Ever Forgive Me? is where it expands beyond the need for subversion of her usual schtick. She is able to properly deliver the warts and all of how Lee conducted herself, and she does well to make sure that the audience gives a shit. 

Strangely, this biopic manages to feel a lot more proper, in that one can sense how it truly is a novel adaptation. Though many biopics offer the third person limited perspective in which the narrative is clearly told from the perspective of the main character, Can You Ever Forgive Me? approaches it in such a masterful way that it captures the thrill of a great page turner. Narration is strictly left to the writing Lee does within the film, details about characters and Lee's understanding of them are integrated subtly and superbly, and the pacing is so steady and organically done that no moment feels unwelcome. The last point is particularly impressive given that the film surprisingly does not dwell too much on taking breathers. At times this can catch one off-guard but it hardly feels unnatural. 

In writing, there is saying that you either live a life worth writing about or write about lives worth living. Lee transgressed her way from one to the other. And if it turns out that there was far more embellishment in this adaptation of Lee Israel's forgeries, it would still be something to take pride in, much like how Lee herself took pride in her forgeries. It captures the frustration of Lee's own interests being looked over by the public, the squandering of her talents that come from her doing as well as her ability to capitalize on her talent and the sardonic wit that carries her throughout life. For the desire to have a voice and be recognized for it is the driving force of any writer. Much in the same way, Melissa has strengthened her own abilities as a performer and Marielle has established herself with a truly captivating work of cinema.


Friday 14 September 2018

The Old Man And The Gun Review


TIFF is in full swing in Ontario, delighting those with early-bird alertness and nest-egg-minded thriftiness. There was a lot for me to choose from: Should I try the blood pumping Widows by Steve McQueen? How about I opt for the captivating Damien Chazelle biopic First Man? What if I decide to go with the Italian political satire Loro from Paolo Sorrentino to delight in my more foreign tastes? The options were many, but the tickets were so few. Though I was tempted to engage in the political documentaries on the current American quagmire and felt that it would be fun to see how long I could last in Lady Gaga's latest attempt to imitate Madonna, I instead chose two quaint "based-on-a-true-story" films each involving a criminal element.

The Old Man And The Gun got my attention immediately through the idea of the "charming convict". A character that is criminal and charismatic, some may see the concept as a cheap way to provide some grey morality into a film, but those people are what I call snitches. One often is enthralled by the silver-tongued fox that weasels their way in and out of any situation, for their motives are not for power or vengeance, but rather for love. And seeing Robert Redford and Sissy Spacek partake in sweet small-talk immediately brought to mind I Love You, Phillip Morris, a favorite of mine for being one of the greatest charming convict stories out there. For both films also revolve around a specific characteristic of the charming convict to define the movie as a whole.

In the case of The Old Man And The Gun, Forrest Tucker (Redford) is clearly aware that the days are quickly fleeing for his age. Though he does well robbing banks without the need to fire a single shot, he is often concerned about what will come next for him now that his accomplices Teddy and Waller (Danny Glover and Tom Waits) move on from a life of crime. However, once he comes across Jewel (Spacek) from his time on the 'lam, the two hit it off and he manages to slow down. Meanwhile, Detective John Hunt (Casey Affleck) slowly awaits to capture him, while he too is concerned about how his life is going.



With a soft jazzy soundtrack and an even softer tone, each day feels pleasant, resembling the stress-free nature of retirement.  Crime scenes are treated like a coffee shop conversation, as the stakes lower with each reassuring quip from Forrest. The struggles of cracking the case take the form of minor migraines in which John makes the best efforts to piece the puzzle. What should be heart-pounding and intense is mundane, a routine, especially when the ticking of Forrest's stopwatch comes into play. Of course there is also the bond that forms between Jewel and Forrest, along with John's family life with his kids and wife, Maureen (Tika Sumpter) which add to the rustic Americana delight that covers this film.

It is however when Forrest is alone that there is an unsettling sensation. It is there that that we see his fragility, his willingness to defy the law as respite from his inability to defy death. Though he may seem comfortable with living next to a cemetery, he is at his core more uneasy. Only when Jewel offers her perspective does he become reinvigorated. It's par for the course of senior-centric cinema to focus on carpe diem, and The Old Man And The Gun certainly approaches it from a reasonable perspective. Much of the change from Forrest and Jewel is subtle, compromising on their limitations. Redford does well to show that Forrest's charm is how considerate he is, despite his isolation. Along with Spacek, their chemistry comes through strongly but slightly off-kilter, burdened by how incompatible their backgrounds are.

Despite how nice most everything was, it can almost seem like there is hardly any tension. The moderator for the film opened by saying how the director, David Lowery seems to make "elevated bedtime stories" and there are certainly times when it would be better to fall asleep. Much of Affleck's scenes carried no life with them, which while logical for a dejected detective, often felt like they were there as a formality to the film's structure. It did not seem to properly contrast well with Redford's more relaxed easygoing nature, since they would often trail off or leave hardly any impact. Not to mention that his voice was so slurred and muffled that a drunk with honey soaked cotton balls under his tongue seemed more coherent in comparison.

It's a shame that his performance does undercut some pivotal points for Hurt, but in fairness, it's not like the writing does any favors. They hardly go further into Forrest's shades, instead choosing to completely portray a nefarious mastermind of multi-million theft as no more than a polite grandfather. There is beauty in the mystery of who he is, but there would be more beauty in it if there was more muddling of what that was. It helps to add more complexity to the why of his criminal activity. Yet only two or so significant details get left behind. It may seem inconsequential, but these matters should be as meticulously constructed as Forrest's heists were. However, if one were to be robbed of more layered characters and scenes with an old-fashioned romantic journey of a charming convict, then I suppose there are worse ways one could be held up.


Monday 10 September 2018

The Culture War And Consumption In A Partisan World


The culture war. It never ends. Though it became formalized back in 1990s when American cable news was just starting to shift from respected fourth estate to overbearing talking head chorus, the struggle has always been there and hardly shows signs of ever leaving. It is the glue that holds communities together, and in which we've come to approach pivotal moments in our lives. Much of it is thanks to the way in which said news (along with the advent of social media) has framed daily events, constantly going for the divisive, the controversial. Conversations hardly are level-headed and the topics tend to get more absurd each time. But much of the reason the news goes into hysterics is because the dialed-up tension brings in more eyes. Politics is seen more of a sports game than an intellectual discussion, and all of us partake in the spectacle to see our side win. It doesn't matter if the subject is abortion or whether to say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, all we need is the proper evisceration and we'll bask in the glow of righteousness. Afterwards we might feel dirty about the whole ordeal and wince at how partisan the world's getting, but we'll get back to gloating when our side wins another point.

It is truly insidious how much the current 24-hour news cycle and social media has fueled the culture war but the sources where it extracts the crude reactionaries are all around us. Our lives are inherently political by not just what we say and do but from what we buy and react to. We try our best to construct a set of principles that we abide to along with ones that we believe that society should strive to better progress. In doing so, we either directly or indirectly form the ways in which we consume media. Those that we choose as our intellectual beacons, the thoughts we have on the latest film or TV show or even our own diet or fashion say to ourselves and others, "this is what lies within my core". These aspects are what then push us into the communities that we want to be a part of and drive us to be hostile to those which are our adversaries. Those communities have within them individuals that then rise up and claim themselves leaders and influencers who then burst onto the monitors that we in turn like, comment are share. 

There is nothing wrong with coming to terms that life is political and to be aware of what you're doing in relation to how you wish to be defined in those terms. Indeed one must have that self-awareness and be willing to view the world through a political lens. However, if you can't knock those glasses off your face, what you're left with is utter frustration and misguided aggression. We see this with virtue signalling about how people aren't paying attention to some news, as if people cannot pay attention to both. We see it with overreaching pop culture analysis that opts to view the incredibly trivial as the highly significant. We see it with how people instantly turn to boycotting and destruction of a company's merchandise for violating its beliefs, only to find that it would never manifest into any resounding change or helps to raise their profits. None of this allows for proper reflection, rather it plays into a reflexive outrage that comes across as paranoid. 

Moreover, it is that very outrage that becomes amplified. It is the ammunition that the media loads up on and shoots across its networks to provide that rush of vitriol to others. They push more urgent issues to the side and engage in a sensationalist game of telephone where each outlet puts its own spin on it to push their agenda further. From this, what was a minor grievance becomes a rallying cry built on misconceptions and half-truths. Even worse is when an issue that is of urgency gets trivialized either through distorting it or by turning it into a selling point. Perhaps in some way it helps to bring the issue to the masses but ignorance is forced upon it, diluting its urgency for the sake of advertisement.

Some believe that because of this constant need to make mountains of molehills that we should just dull our senses to what goes on and try to look for simplistic compromises. This mentality presents problems by declaring everything as equally subjective and thus incapable of being properly debated. After all, how can one truly say whether apples or oranges are the superior fruit? It also does not resolve the mismanagement of priorities and only helps to ignore when smaller issues do add up to a troubling trend. 

That's not to say that it's not understandable why some go down that path. After all, the culture war is a tedious ordeal. It tires the general public as much as it energizes it into a frantic shouting match.  Moderation would be a better status quo than what we have now. But there's yet to be a proper pivot back to the middle. We must not sacrifice our beliefs unless we have a good reason to. Neither should we be willing to be at each others throats so quickly.  It's hard to find common ground, but when it appears it is in everyone's best interests to solidify themselves in it and come around to strengthening it. If we are drafted into the culture war and thrown into the battlefield already, it makes no sense to run away. One has to go in and fight, maintaining their focus and keeping with them honor. Yet this is an unconventional war, one where friends can be made across the lines and extended breaks exist to ease the tension. Be armed when it comes to another battle, but don't point your arm everywhere expecting enemies to crawl out. 

Sunday 2 September 2018

Freiwerk and Forward - The Pushing Of The Product And The Plans For Itch.Io


I'm sure y'all have seen me post about Freiwerk a lot lately. I've mostly been aggressively advertising it after a couple of teases at the start of August, just trying to make sure that I get it out to the corners that I'm most active in. After all, it is the first proper project I've ever made and I did spend quite some time assembling it together. I couldn't just post it and leave it be like other works I've made. Now that I'm dying down with the reposting of the product, I feel like I should try to provide more information on Freiwerk itself, what I think of the end result and what will be of the itch.io that has now been made thanks to it.

INCEPTION


I say that Freiwerk started in third year of university but the impetus to get something like it going has been something that I thought to look into during first year. I've been wanting to get some larger project going, one which would take a little bit more time than my average creation. I figured that by having more time dedicated to something, it would provide something that would be much more substantial for me and anyone taking part in it. I set a goal that by end of my graduation year I had to get something out. 

Around third year, I finally had the idea to make a collection of my work. Given the busy schedule I had, it figured that if I could just try to make a neatly made package of what I've done artistically, it would not only be reasonable but also serve as a good jumping board into doing other projects. I opted for a German title both to abide to artistic tradition of using a foreign language to heighten one's work and because I have a minor in it so why not include it somewhere. Though if I'm basing my creative decisions on minors, then I should have included a Poisson distribution to account for statistics.

The outline was made out and I knew it would be 10 sections with two serving more as bookends instead of showcasing my work (as I would have plenty of work to showcase). Later on I'd alter it so that it would become a way for people to get to know more about myself. It'd be like a personal portfolio. I included pictures I took, songs that I liked and some creative non-fiction I wrote about my experiences in life. To add to the project, I also decided that there would be some content that would be exclusively made for it - stories and artwork to be exact. That way, it would have a little more to offer than any old collection.

For the most part I kept it secret, not opting to be too explicit in this work in progress back when it was still just a few sections completed and barely half of the new content made specifically for it was made. Maybe I should have tried to make an earlier buzz about it but I didn't want to jinx the project by hyping it up too early and never getting it done. Once I was more secure that it would get completed, I went forth with providing more information. Shortly after that it came down to posting it.

EXECUTION


Having now released it, I believe it's lifted quite a load off my chest. I can finally say I got a project out there that I put a great deal of time into creating and which has a whole lot to offer. In doing so, I wanted to see what would become of it. While there has been some attention to it and I'm grateful for it, I believe the lack of such has allowed me to consider some problems in my approach. 

For one, the build-up could have been much better to show what Freiwerk would include. Granted it's more akin to a book than a movie in the sense that teasing the content would be more difficult, but it still would have provided better insight into what it'd be about. I could have done a video for it as I have other works, but given that I've hardly touched my Youtube channel, there probably wouldn't have been much of a change. I could've mentioned that the some of the art meant for the project, would be psychedelic collages, caricatures, a businessman with an octahedron for a head and a colorful Rorschach test of sorts. Or that the stories I made for it range from a postcard story about a soldier trudging through the desert to a spy dealing with a period of inactivity and boredom to the longest story involving a man and a talking gargoyle. Perhaps that would have helped.

The other big issue could be the length, as over 250 pages of content is quite a lot for a single project, especially the first one that serves as a jumping board for further works. Though it does speak well to my willingness to offer content (after all it is free), it nonetheless could make it hard for people to engage with it. 

As for the content, I'm sure there might be some imperfections given that it is my first go-around, but that's a lot more subjective than the promotion. I would be guessing a lot more as to what landed and what didn't and they would probably be a lot more off the mark than I would assume. Not to mention that I would rather highlight the monumental achievement that it was than pick it apart. I do think that what I've done has been quite experimental and insightful into who I am regardless of where those reactions may lean. However, I do appreciate any comments regarding it though. Any feedback helps.


CONTINUATION


So now that I've completed Freiwerk, I've got a perfectly good itch.io opened up, eager for more to be placed upon it. I have thought about what other things I hope to get there. There are some older works that I might consider revamping and posting on there by themselves. However, I am thinking to do something more Photoshop-intensive and original projects that would be similar to the Siet Eh? section of Freiwerk. It also wouldn't be a bad idea to try making a game or a funky little executable given the nature of itch.io. Hell, I noticed that some people have included videos in there too, so that might be something to think about too. Though perhaps the smartest thing to do is to make some comics given all the characters I've made. The site's my oyster, and hopefully I can get another project out before the start of a new year. But for now, there's just Freiwerk, and I'm fine with that. 

Friday 24 August 2018

The Happytime Murders Review


Around some point in my teenage life, I fancied myself a bit of a cinephile. For the most part it was because I had seen a lot of gangster films and works by Scorsese, sometimes together in the same package. It snowballed in getting me into Kubrick and Tarantino and Hitchcock and soon I found myself watching some French New Wave here, an underappreciated piece of animation there, I was broadening my cultural palate. As such, I came to accept the more cynical approach to the current landscape, that being that it is nothing but dreck. I agreed with those that saw Micheal Bay as the cinematic blotch of overblown machismo that dumbed the medium and rolled my eyes to no avail to the creative bankruptcy that the industry holds. In doing so, I basically didn't allow myself to have any fun.

Now that I'm older and wiser, I realize that dreck has it's place in the cinematic landscape as much anything else. You can't really expect each film to provide a greater insight into the human experience, toying with your emotions and leaving you awake pondering the deeper meanings that lie within it. You'd never get any sleep that way. Not to mention that Hollywood's always been playing to lowest common denominators, so viewing the current mess as "the fall of cinema" is neglecting to see the shitstains that the medium left behind. So while that teenager within me that thought only to spend his time with the Coens may see my willingness to view The Happytime Murders as only fueling the degradation of true art, I still figure it to be fine to go see the puppet show.

The gimmick of kid-friendly media going R-rated is nothing new. Many people have taken the approach of twisting saccharine animation styles and fluffy critters into foul-mouthed, sex-craven, bloodthirsty abominations. We already saw a similar revival of the gimmick with Sausage Party, a film that left more to be desired, especially by those who worked on it. Like it, The Happytime Murders takes a different approach to the standard formula, ditching the faux-Sesame Street approach and instead operating as a buddy cop film in which a human, Connie Edwards (Melissa McCarthy) teams up with the main puppet of the production, Phil Phillips (voiced by Bill Barretta). It also brought about a lot of obnoxious advertising that focused heavily on how so edgy and crazy the idea is, to the point people would much rather stick the whole cast, flesh and felt, into a giant blender and use it as sofa cushion. But it's only gonna be one of these kinds of films for a long while, Sausage Party has yet to bring anything else with it, I doubt this will. 


If you can set aside the edgy posturing and take in the elevator pitch itself, it has some potential to work as a silly raunchy roller coaster. Just keep upping the wildness factor as you go along and you'll be alright. The Happytime Murders seems to take a more muted, Who Framed Roger Rabbit styled approach and instead has the world relegate puppets to lower-class citizens, and in which Phil blew his chance at being the first puppet cop hired in LA, now working as a PI who gets hired to figure out why Sandra, the lass that causes him to jizz silly string until his mind goes numb, is being blackmailed. It's only until members from The Happytime Gang (the show-within-a-show that provided further tolerance for puppetkind) get picked off one by one that Phil finds himself back on the beat, having to butt heads with Connie to find out who's responsible for these crimes. 

Little by little, there does appear to be more zaniness that does come about, though there is less emphasis on elaborate set-pieces or full-on surrealism, and more on world building and darker humor. For instance, puppets get high on sugar, so much so that their most potent drug essentially would cause a diabetic coma to any human in an instance. The reason as to why Connie can survive a hit of the stuff? She has a puppet liver. It certainly is disappointing that there isn't a big Blues Brothers meets The Muppets Movie type action scene in it but I appreciate it letting the contrasts and quirks of the world settle into the viewer rather than feeling it needs to rub its furry blue balls into everyone's face like the trailers would have you thinking. 

Indeed the humor and the main performances carry the film, with Melissa and Bill providing great banter with each other and recognizing themselves as flawed cops that come to embrace each other despite their shortcomings. The other puppets work well to add "grit" to the concept while the humans tend to just exist as a matter of convention. Both have their fair share of cliches, but at least with the puppets it feels a lot more different given the expressions and voices they put on. It's not to say that Maya Rudolph, Joel McHale or Leslie David Baker don't get a funny line every once in a while, but they could have had more given to them or more creativity that would have let them be stronger. However, it was nice seeing Michael McDonald play a smarmy asshole again, he really manages to nail those roles despite looking like a relatively nice guy. 



Despite that, I would still stay that in terms of comedy, the film does its part. However, I'm not just gonna give a movie a complete pass because it makes me laugh. Youtube Poops make me laugh too and I'd say they have a lot more consistency than this film. See, as much as I know I'm watching a dumb movie, I am still watching a movie. And as such, I feel that it suffers from not following through completely with the ideas it presents. This mainly takes the form of the puppet-human dynamic. At times, this is explicitly and implicitly shown to be the case, other times it feels like society's moved on from that discrimination. The shift from subtle to blatant can also be jarring given that it doesn't tend to have good transitions into that shift and tends to be random at when it shifts that dial. That's not even mentioning other aspects like playing on puppet stereotypes, Phil's former lover, or further significance of The Happytime Gang. Overall, the story has a few genuinely clever moments, more forced moments, and some moments that could have been clever but end up coming off as unnecessary. It could have done better to explore the world whilst still keeping to the simplicity of playing off its gimmick and paced itself better rather than having to feel like it needed to hit all the beats of a buddy cop film. 

Perhaps I'm just warring with myself here, getting all pedantic about all the elements in the movie. The Happytime Murders is a movie where puppets say fuck while fucking and get fucking murdered. If it suffers a bit from not being a narrative masterpiece nor a properly fleshed out experience, then that's fine. All it really needs to deliver on is laughs and being entertaining. And to that effect, it delivers quite well on those criteria, fulfilling the cravings of those with that style of immature humor. It is odd how it is both bizarrely paced well (humor-wise) and paced clumsily (story-wise) and I still find it a shame that it couldn't go beyond into a silly flick that has a lot more going for it than people expect it to.But I think people will come to find themselves pleasantly surprised by some of its bursts of cleverness. I say if you just need to indulge in some goofiness, get the hand out of your ass and go give it a whirl. 


P. S. - Now that I'm thinking about it, I am kind of interested in seeing what more you could do with adult-themed puppet movies. Maybe Henson Alternative might have another work in the making that could really take the idea to some new places. 

Saturday 14 July 2018

Sorry To Bother You Review


Social commentary in media can seem so tacky nowadays. Everyone has a take that they're willing to throw out, and many of them tend to either be sanctimonious rants about going back to the old days or cliche-ridden satires that have more snark than bite. You can't blame people for wanting to have their two cents though, it's natural for us to reflect on our times. Given that life lately feels like running backwards on fire on a treadmill from velociraptors, there's even more urgency to say something about the horrifying, insane situation we've found ourselves in. But what has been said is tired in its approach and tiring to see in abundance. Sorry To Bother You however, is anything but tiring. It is the slap to the face that jolts you mind and your heart too.

Following Cassius's rise through the ranks as a telemarketer down in Oakland, Sorry To Bother You sounds like a standard rags-to-riches story in which the protagonist must come to learn the folly of their greedy ways once they're in too deep. The story beats of his desperation for money, the betrayal of his "true" self and so on all call to a familiar and lackluster character arc. Sure, it's funny seeing Lakeith Stanfield and Danny Glover being dubbed over by David Cross, and there is quite a polished yet indie style to the production based on its tiny quirks, but for the most part it appears to provide nothing more deep than a puddle. Indeed the film itself doesn't really have much else to say that would warrant a doorstopper of a book to be published about it. But Sorry To Bother You is not concerned in lengthy diatribes. It's concerned with hitting you with what its got as hard as it can.

Much of what allows Sorry To Bother You to stand out from other stories like it is its forceful lack of tact regarding the way capitalism has affected our lives. Elements of Boots Riley's Oakland (and America) follow from Idiocracy's blatant style of commentary. Many of the people are barely getting by, living in tents or having to get ready while they're in their car. Wage slaves are essentially just slaves with hardly any wage at all. Those that are on top are literally above the rest of the working class. Hell, it even goes into the deterioration of standards in pop culture aspect by having a show where people get the living shit kicked out of them. Why? Just for the hell of it. That's not even mentioning the more obvious aspect of the black characters in the film having to pass as white to get any kind of legitimacy. All of this provides wonderful background the the main story, providing us with a world that is as frank as it is dark. Furthermore, it works perfectly at a time when subtlety is spelled in all caps.



The film itself is quite hilarious amid all the mayhem that occurs. The trailers emphasize the white acting but it's far from the only source of humor. From sight gags, to clever lines to just how crazy the story's willing to go, there's a lot that'll get one laughing as well as thinking. The fantastical elements of the movie have a particular contribution to the comedic aspect of the film with half of them serving as visual flourishes and the other being actual events in the reality. At times they both can come across as forced, as if they're trying to get a laugh from you from the sheer awkwardness of the situation. Other times, they go beyond what one expects and leave you cackling in utter confusion.

The characters in Sorry To Bother You offer interesting glimpses into Riley's views regarding politics, society and identity as a whole. Cassius perfectly exemplifies the malaise of the working class feeling more disposable and worthless with each passing day, contemplating about how worth it their lives will be given the inevitable heat death of the universe, clinging onto the fantasy of making it and holding onto it once they've had. His higher ups show a far more corrosive side of the system that he's a part of and how much they're willing to let those below them eat their cake. His friends (and girlfriend, Detroit, who does well to challenge the world with her artistic abilities) however manifest the ever-growing anger that the working class face and the need to take action, no matter how small it may be. For the most part they are all well contained, though a few have some ideas going for them that hardly come to any kind of conclusion.

All in all, if you want to see a film that cuts through the bullshit with its message and provides an experience that is as bizarre and thrilling as the daily news on acid, Sorry To Bother You is ready to take your number and tell you about the amazing experience it has to offer you.




Sunday 11 February 2018

The Cartoonish Vilification Of The Insanely Rich Innovator/Entrepeneur


I've been thinking about Elon Musk a lot lately. How he managed to strap his car into a space shuttle and launch it into space to the tune of David Bowie, creating an image with such poetic beauty that it could very well be the cover art of a soft-science fiction novel. I think about the Falcon Heavy launch of his both in the grander context of what it means for space exploration, and in the more selfish context of one's innate need to leave their mark on the world in some unique manner. After all, it's impressive that the rockets were able to break off and land in the exact locations with no problem. Moreover, the adolescent in me is just fucking hyped that there's a cool looking sports car out there floating around the Earth with a dummy astronaut on it. But really, the impact of the Falcon Heavy launch is not why Musk is on my mind. It's more his image.

While some see Elon as the next Tony Stark, others just see him as a young Lex Luthor. Many cite his views on urban planning as elitist, his interests lying more in bombastic spectacles out in space rather than helping out down on Earth. Not to mention he's not big on unions. Just around the time of the Falcon Heavy launch, Elon got into disputes with the unions, and has offered to his employees that if they go against them, they can enjoy all the frozen yogurt and rollercoasters they desire. Under this context, the launch doesn't appear as a symbol of humanity being on the edge of spatial exploration more than an over-hyped ego-stroking of a megalomaniac.

Such a view is perhaps a little too cynical (as well as ignorant of Elon's altruism and efforts to invest in greener energy), but Elon's not the only one to get negatively caricatured. Many other millionaires and billionaires get equated with the likes of Montgomery Burns, Gordon Gekko and Scrooge McDuck. It's only fitting that as you amass more wealth while others are left starving or struggling, that those on the latter will see your stockpiling as pretty dickish. But it's not just the grossness of one's net-worth that gets people riled up. It's also in adopting the role of the entrepreneur or the innovator. Those in this role often get more of the anger and vitriol than those in the entertainment industry. Sure, one might have some problem with the out-of-touch nature of the Hollywood types, but it's never to the extent that someone like Musk would get.



Of course that makes sense since the innovator/entrepreneur does more to affect people's lives and the way society (or politics in particular) acts. As such, it becomes important to look closely at the attitudes and the choices that these figures make, and be critical of what they choose to do with the money that they have. But these perspectives, couched with the general hostility that comes with the super-rich, often become harsh character studies of these people: Steve Jobs gets viewed as a fake-deep cut-throat, Oprah Winfrey as the jolly exploiter of human misery, Mark Zuckerberg as an alien weirdo; the current US president, Donald Trump, has been portrayed as an ignorant, idiotic, highly egocentric buffoon so much, it's not even funny anymore. All of them are created from actual problems that these people and their practices have created, but at times the over-reliance on these portrayals can prove to be overbearing.

Much of the problem stems with how these caricatures serve not so much to highlight the sins of the subject but rather to virtue signal about one's righteousness. When I was a teenager, I developed a massive hatred for Steve Jobs for how damaging his cult of personality was on others. To me, it bred this smug self-satisfaction among others who thought themselves as these unique individuals on the cutting edge of technology. However, I found that the more I bitched about how one shouldn't worship the turtleneck techno-hippie, the more I found that people weren't much too interested in talking with me. That's because I was more focused in turning this image I had of the devil that was Steve Jobs onto people to either chide them or make myself feel better for not buying into the hype. 

This problem was a lot worse when Trump was running as president. So much of the media was focused on building up this horribly exaggerated image of him to then parade around as a deterrent to supporting him,. This didn't really manage to convince those that were with him to deter, if anything, it only managed to magnified the posturing and hypocrisy of those who were using the caricature. The same could have been said for myself with Steve Jobs as I owned an iPod and would admire Bill Gates (who while more altruistic certainly was just as cut-throat, if not moreso). As tired as this conversation is to hear, it nonetheless emphasizes the problem with overuse of caricaturization. Rather than explaining the actual problems that exist with these individuals in a frank manner, one instead partakes in waving an image of the insanely rich innovator/entrepeneur with devil horns in the faces of others, expecting that they'll be converted rather than become apathetic or more ardent in their support.

It also isn't quite as fair to be so heavy-handed in the hatred of these individuals. It's not to say that I would outright condemn someone for being justifiably perpetually upset with how these people emphasize the massive economic inequality in the world (lest it reaches an obnoxious virtual signalling as stated above). But it is important to take in account the grey shades of the world every once in a while. There are very few people out there who are so truly bereft of any good, and for as much as innovators and entrepreneurs destroy, they also create. One needs only to look at the ever-explosive debate about Walt Disney to how each side of him left their mark on the world. Much as I greatly disagree with Elon's views, it's still remarkable to see what noble projects he's attached himself to as well as how he's managed to so thoroughly capture the public's imagination with the Falcon Heavy's launch. 

There would be no sense in me condemning the cartoonish vilification of the insanely rich innovator/entrepeneur. I think Jeff Bezos is the ultimate embodiment of everything wrong with capitalism. I take an insane amount of joy seeing Mark Zuckerberg fail in his efforts to be relatable to us humons. And some of my favorite MadTV sketches are the ones that portray Oprah as a nearly demonic being. It is both important to destroy the idyllic images that they wish to have portrayed upon them so as to not follow them blindly and cathartic to punch upwards at those who are probably too busy to care about what burns we lob at them. However if anything meaningful is going to come from pointing at their flaws, it's not going to be achieved merely with the plastering of their evil caricature all over the place. 


Wednesday 10 January 2018

Moments Without Zen: How The Daily Show Is Fairing Under Trevor Noah


Ever since Jon Stewart turned a soft parody of celebrity gossip shows to a full-on satire of the modern news cycle and all of its sensationalism, partisanry and over-budgeted graphics departments, The Daily Show has been one of the cornerstones of political comedy in America. Whether people were on the left or on the right, there was always an interest in seeing how Jon and his correspondents would tackle the week's events. He was always able to find the absurd and the bullshit in a world that often posited itself as reasonable and honest. Many would come to be inspired by his work on The Daily Show that they would go on to create their own version, and his absence, former correspondents of the show have now populated the comedy scene seeing if they too could tug at the whiskers of the politicos and the pundits. But in his absence, there was only one who took his throne. He was Trevor Noah.

For as much progress as Trevor Noah has made on the show during his year or so on it, the decision to place him on to replace Jon Stewart remains to be one of the more bizarre choices on TV. Sure, he has a significant amount of clout in South Africa and managed to make some impact on the American scene, but it didn't seem like he would fit to take the mantle of a show with a massive audience. One which had so familiarized itself with the host that to even imagine a replacement felt like a betrayal. But as we all know, Jon was a stranger after taking over for Craig Kilborn. It seems unfair to constantly try to compare Noah against Stewart so I'll try to keep the comparisons limited. After all, Noah deserves a chance. Has he made anything of it though?



The long and the short of it is, no. Or at least he hasn't done enough.

Now don't take this to mean that I outright hate him. I don't really hold any strong negative feelings towards Noah. I was probably more positive about Noah taking the helm as other people might have been. After viewing some of his specials, I figured he did have sufficient enough potential to work on The Daily Show. Much of his act dealt with political matters and he was genuinely funny. Furthermore, considering that he was coming right along to the dawn of the Donald, he was pretty much given a golden opportunity to show his stuff. But at best all of it has left me with a dejected "Eh". 

Part of the problem is the material, which is just too by-the-numbers. Jokes at the expense of Republicans? Check. Attempts to connect with the youth via topical references? Check. Semi-serious calls for political reform with a liberal slant? Double check. It's especially with the last two that Noah trips up, as he'll make some sort of effort to seem woke by comparing trans issues with the iPhone having no headphone jack or by using the term "woke" unironically. It cheapens the effort at making a biting social commentary in favor of that sort of corporate hipness that has turned every fast food Twitter account into a snarky troll.

The humor isn't so much poignant as it is passable. Which is fine if you're trying to do a decent set, but for a show like The Daily Show, there has to be a little more. There needs to be a certain level of investment, a certain level of passion that comes from the humor. Jon can bring about the same amount of energy and interest into a subject he cares about deeply like the Zadroga Act or something far more trivial like the American diet. In political satire and political comedy, there is more to the joke than a surface-level observation, there is an underlying point. There isn't a sense of Noah's unique perspective, and since he's more interested in tackling the surface, the point that he carries through becomes limp and lifeless.


You can't blame Noah for being too shallow in his comedy - after all he is a foreigner. He can spout lengthy analyses of the Constitution all he likes, but he is aware that above his head still reads the words "that South African comedian". Which leaves him in a bit of an awkward spot. Should he just bring attention to it in very pointed ways or should he make the effort to assimilate and hope people can play along? He's done both, but neither really yield enough of a result. His efforts to play to the crowd can come across as too obvious, and the jokes done about his South African roots are too simple. Personally, I enjoy it more when he's able to compare and contrast between African politics and American politics. You get more of a sense of his strengths and how he's viewing what's going on based on what he knows. I do that all the time with Venezuela. Going more international and broadening the perspective could play quite well if done right. 

Course, why go for that option when you could just stick to the gold mine that is Trump?

Here's where we fall into the main problem with Noah, and really, just the main problem with the comedy scene as a whole. Trump is just too easy. Noah's jokes about Trump and his administration is where he falls flat the most, because you can see the punchline coming from a mile away. And it's not so much that the humor's so politically biased (though it's not like it's really helping the hyper-polarization in the US) more that it doesn't really tell me anything I don't already know. I can see that Trump acts like a complete idiot, a braggadocious buffoon. Unless you really push the limits on the kind of joke you can make at Trump's expense or have something far more to say about his actions that no one else is saying, there's not much else to it. There's a reason people people describe the humor as "Drumpf" - because it comes across as performative, stupid and circle-jerking. Every late-night comedian faces the same problem, but where it becomes a problem with Trevor is that the emphasis on banking on this humor overshadows serious issues within society and the genuine hysteria within the media.

The Daily Show existed to be an exaggeration of the world we're exposed through by the media. Under Trevor Noah, it has become an exaggeration of the criticisms the show faced: that it pandered too much to younger audiences, that it wanted to feel bigger than it was, that it leaned too heavily for liberals (I can't pretend that Jon wasn't left-leaning, but he was a lot more even-handed than Noah has been, and a little more subtle too). It is lacking a sense of purpose, a reason to be. Other shows like Last Week Tonight and Full Frontal have done a better job of providing what The Daily Show once did with different perspectives too. Without Noah distinguishing himself with his voice, there isn't anything else to gain aside from a abridged version of the world news with a couple of silly quips.