Art I Consumed in October 2020

 Books

Coming Home
by: Rosamunde Pilcher
I read 650 pages of this and then gave up. I don't feel right rating it because of this, but I will say that I think it speaks volumes that after I'd quit out of boredom I googled what the rest of the book was and I learned that the 300 or so pages I didn't end up reading probably would've been the ones that interested me most. Ultimately my biggest issue with this book is that it spends hundreds of pages too long on the soap-opera wish fulfillment of the upper class in England/Scotland, and apparently doesn't get to any of the WWII stuff until it's already 700+ pages in. 
You obviously can't jump right in to the drama, you need to establish character relationships and motivations first. I understand this. However, the bulk of Pilcher's novel isn't really spent doing this, it's spent on endless description and breezy beach reading on the flowery luxuries of upper class living. Credit where credit is due, no character feels "flat" and the large cast is decently fleshed out, but this is partly because of the time investment spent with them. While I think it is important to speak to the regular life that went on before WWII and that the worrying pictures in the newspaper did eventually become real-life tragedy, I honestly just can't understand why this perspective on Downton Abbey would be preferred over the dozens of other stories on the fringes of WWII. I'm not saying every story that takes place over WWII needs to be heavy, but for gods sake please I can't take any more of these rich families getting everything they could ever want and the protagonist inheriting a billion dollars, owning a house and a brand new car at age 18, and being able to achieve every dream and desire she has for longer than half a second other than her unrequited love (of course). While it may have been a comforting armchair read for some, for me I felt like I was just getting the least interesting possible perspective on a time in history where there were so many other far more interesting stories to hear. Maybe I would've liked this better if it hadn't mentioned Hitler in the periphery at all, touching ever so briefly on the threatening swell of WWII approaching people so soon after they'd processed the trauma of WWI, and then swiftly and unceremoniously returning to the issue of what tea cakes to bring to the mid-afternoon swim at the country club for the next hundred or so pages.
It wasn't all bad. I am not immune to summer reading. I can appreciate how thoughtfully Pilcher plots out the coming-of-age story involving the exciting and fleeting empowerment young teens will feel when they are constantly trying out new lives, making new friends, un-tethered to their past or any rigid sense of self or place yet. I can appreciate these stories because they are universally emotional. 
I can also appreciate how wealth inequality is shown on the topic of war, where some families have to suffer through things the rich couldn't conceive of in their worst nightmares. But, again, my issue here is that wherever we encounter these brief conflicts or uncomfortable realizations, Judith (the protagonist) is able to fix these problems within moments due to her own outrageous wealth. Oh, my old nanny from when I was a child is in poverty? How dreadfully sad. Lets not dwell too long on this, for I shall just house her in my brand new home conveniently bestowed upon me! What came across at first as genuine compassion and empathy in the protagonist eventually grew to annoy me because she never had to really sympathize with anyone for too long- every person suffering in this book for more than a moment is given immediate shelter, support, and/or money to solve their issues. That is, apparently, until the last quarter of the book which involves people dying in war and such. At this point though, I'd already spent several hours under the impression that I should be swept up in the romance of all of this fantastical wish fulfillment when really it could only hold my interest for maybe half the book. 
There was one really interesting part even in the flowery first half of the novel though. Even amongst all of this joyful and comforting coming-of-age cozyness we see at first, it is not long before the protagonist is sexually assaulted by an older man. This traumatic event is not a thematic pillar of the story like it probably would've been if this story was written now. It just kind of happens, it's referred to a few times, and is resolved without much examination at all. On one hand, this is kind of uniquely empowering in a way only novels from this time could pull off- the lasting effects of this sexual assault aren't given much attention and you get the sense that the author and all of the characters which speak to this event are trying to tell you that these kinds of awful things happen in life but they don't get to own you or decide anything for you. I found this take really interesting and kind of fascinating from a sociological standpoint- empowerment for young women who have gone through these things takes form in all shapes and sizes, and I guess I've just never encountered it this way before. 
So I don't feel right rating this. I didn't finish it and what I read wasn't bad by any stretch, but kind of just felt like something to pass the time. A lot of it made me smile, but very little of it made me feel any profound emotion either way. Ultimately I guess I feel like if you're gonna be 1000 pages long, you better be compelling and tightly written/edited, or at least ambitious. 
See: House of Leaves. 

The Tao of Pooh
by: Benjamin Hoff
7/10
Here I am, about to have a shit-fit about Winnie the Pooh.
No, ok, this isn't totally true. Pooh is objectively a great representation of Taoist ideals, my bone to pick at is basically that some of the ways they put Pooh on a pedestal here ends up representing all of the other characters and their respective traits as useless. I don't particularly like this about Taoism at its best, which I firmly believe is a belief system with a lot to admire and respect, but is also borrowed from and applied much more practically and meaningfully in every other Asian faith. Many stories here which strive to illustrate Pooh's enlightened ability to go with the flow and accept things as they are do achieve this, but they are also wilfully ignorant of how little independence Pooh has. 
Maybe it's just an aspect of my personality, but I can't stand this idea that Taoism pushes forward that scientific pursuit, building routine, discipline of any kind, and emotional engagement is at all negative. Minimalism, contentment, and ridding ones self of expectations are pillars to all eastern faiths, but Taoism lacks any sort of practical engagement with the community or human virtues. it has a reputation as being the "lazy" religion, and this is obviously a joke, but there is truth to the critique of Taoist ideologies as one which does not place any value on effort, discipline, interdependence, or agency. I suppose I'll just never jive with it. To me, what is attractive about Taoism can be found in all sects of Buddhism and some other traditional Japenese religions, but with ten times the practicality and with a critical understanding of our place on this Earth as social creatures. 
I do not like that Taoism demonizes so many traits which can be incredibly positive in a person when applied kindly and effectively, which is the stance other eastern faiths take. Rabbit is not an ineffective and bad person for planning and emphasizing teamwork. Owl is not bad for being curious and dissatisfied with ignorance. Piglet is not bad for being nervous. All of these characters are striving daily in their lives to be kind and to help one another and I think it's kind of bullshit that Pooh gets all the credit just for bumbling along. Perhaps it is the Buddhist in me, but Piglet is objectively the most enlightened of the bunch.
But anyways, the book is actually decent. It is a great introduction to the religion and the thesis on Pooh is interesting and well thought out. I think I prefer "scholarly" work on Taoism because it is kind of forced to acknowledge it as more of a rebellion to Confucian strictness and general philosophical guideline than anything else, but "The Tao of Pooh" does a great job at gently and patiently leading it's readers through the basic ideals of Taoism in the face of their master- a humble little bear. 

Movies & TV

Scooby Doo
Directed by: Raja Gosnell
7/10
This is one of my top 20 favourite films of all time, and I'm not sorry about it. 
Typically, I am in the habit of watching films with a notepad beside me. When we watched "Scooby-Doo", I was too drunk to do this. When I had realized later that night that I forgot to take notes on the film, I drunkenly scrawled what I considered at the time to be the key points to this only half-guilty pleasure of mine. 
I think these unedited notes will speak for themselves:
  • Boobs
  • Jam-Packed
  • Radical
  • Comfy
  • Matthew Lilliard is a legit
  • We need to go back to 2002
  • Rad as fuck
  • How did Scrappy-Doo take over grown men?
James and the Giant Peach
Directed by: Henry Selick
10/10
This is also one of my favourite movies of all time. I have a deep-seeded fondness for this uniquely soulful and spectacular Disney film. I feel that this is really both Disney and Henry Selick at their best- taking enormous risks and privileging a quality vision over what may have had a safer and more universal appeal. I think I have touched on this before, but I love revisiting these old Disney films that aren't necessarily part of the "Disney Renaissance" because you can see how creatively diverse Disney used to be before they figured out their most successful formula. "The Lion King" and "The Little Mermaid" are critically adored and there's good reason for this, but more than anything I feel like the majority of their best-known and best loved films have happened during or after the notable push toward formulaic storytelling and art styles which appeal to that "Disney cozyness" they've become so known for. Now that Disney owns everything, they can get away with just mass producing sequels and remakes instead of the far more ambitious and risky projects they started out with. It's a shame, really, but it's too late now to get all hot and bothered about it. Disney is going to remake all of their "Renaissance" flicks and they'll make a billion dollars doing it, so why would they go back to the times when they made wild crazy shit like this and standalone live-action films like "Honey I Shrunk The Kids"? The time for diverse creative talent and risk-taking in Disney is over. 
Anyways, back to my boy James. 
As a child this was one of my favourite films and I know that part of my love for it had to do with how intentionally frightening it could be. Feeling fear in childhood is important, I think, and there's something genuinely fascinating about how we are drawn to the media which frightened us so much as kids. Maybe it is just human nature to seek out things that challenge us and evoke profound feeling, even or especially when that feeling is foreign to us. As an adult, it isn't "fear" so much that I chase in films, but anxiety and tension. I think the gut reaction is the same, but fear is so much more direct and comprehensive as a child. You don't yet have a concept of stress, grief, or anxiety- everything is just fear and confusion. "James and the Giant Peach" seems to capture these gigantic and absurd childhood fears particularly well. Not only is the story steeped in metaphor with the stormy rhinoceros, a gigantic (and fucking awesome) killer metal shark, sentiments which touch on the uncertainty and dream of the immigrant experience, and of course the coping methods of children in trauma, but even just the bare imagery and outlandish characterization of James's fear is so powerful to witness. 
Stop-motion animation, particularly that done by Henry Selick, is undeniably magical. However, what sets this film apart from his later works (which are all brilliant in their own right) is the dramatic setting. Scenes range from the claustrophobic and charming inside of the peach which has a kind of industrial Brooklyn feel, to the atmospheric and enormously imaginative scenes up in the clouds and in the frozen pirate graveyards, to all of these scenes flying in to storms or through picaresque evenings, vast oceans and sunny skies, glittering New York skylines and brutal, harsh, Burton-escque rocky cliffs. Every moment is breath-taking and all of the character designs complement these settings with their inherent charisma and sharp features. The grasshopper was my favourite as a kid and the scene with him playing violin and dancing with that incredible night sky behind him will always fill my heart with joy. 
The emotional range of this film is also notably bold. The soundtrack is often grand and joyful, soulful and dedicated to this grandiose spectacle, and yet we also get scenes which are suddenly tense, frightening, and deeply threatening. All of this is done in such a short run-time of just over an hour and yet it never feels rushed. Much like the rhythms and emotional swells of childhood, we see a narrative that is never secured or caught up in any one emotion for too long. Dahl has always been great at this with his stories- presenting the totally insane with the trust and belief of a child, validating their experiences with empathy while never dismissing the value children see in these harrowing experiences. 
"James and the Giant Peach" is an adventure almost too good to be true- one which leaves me consistently in awe and rapt in emotion just as much now as it had when I was like 6 years old. 

A Star Is Born
Directed by: Bradley Cooper
6/10
One thing I did not expect this movie to really blow me away about is the way the cinematography and concert scenes capture the emotional swell of social intimacy in live music and bars. Suddenly an aching wound opened up in me that longed for these powerful experiences we've missed out on this year. 
There are some major issues I have with this film mostly concerning consent. Within moments of meeting Cooper's character is touching Ally's face even as she protests, and within the day he has his driver following her and not taking "no" as an answer. The titular scene in which he begins playing a song she wrote on stage and forcefully convincing her to go up and sing it with him felt emotional and romantic in the most manipulative of ways but more than anything I cringe at the pressures he puts on this young woman. The romantic aspects of this action have to do with supporting someone's passions and encouraging them even when they don't believe in themselves, but I feel this is a vastly different sentiment and motive than what is done here. My understanding of the romance between Ally and Cooper's character is that it is problematic but nonetheless touching and powerful, and I generally agree with this and feel it was done well on film except I do genuinely feel that some of the press surrounding this movie and its reputation believes otherwise. Also, the central premise being that Lady Gaga is too ugly to be famous is a little problematic on its own. I'm not going to sit here and do the math on exactly how attractive this woman is, but it seems kind of fucked that Hollywood thinks this thin, big breasted white woman with a conventionally attractive face is "ugly representation". 
Despite my kind of "meh" feelings on the film as a whole and despite my boredom as it loses momentum about 2/3rds through, Cooper's talent here is undeniable. On a personal level, I deeply respect the realism and empathy he brought to his protagonist with a drug addiction. It is obvious that Cooper has experienced addiction himself even just considering the little details that really sell his performance- the "drunk talk" is consistent and matches the flow of speech, the emotional cognition and reactions to the hopeless/helpless/worthless mindset are spot-on, the body language of a person deeply self-conscious and yet barely gripping on to reality is portrayed well, and the physical stumbles and self-destruction are very truthfully and naturally depicted. More than a love story or success story, I consider "A Star Is Born" to be about the complex relationships in the support system of an addict and what happens when the self-destruction of an addict interferes with their genuine love for another person. Watching Cooper's character raise his lover up only to fundamentally hinder her health, happiness, and success is heartbreaking and agonizing when the film is giving it its full attention. Cooper's sultry and masculine performance, surprisingly very distinct from his regular persona, is also something distinctly impressive to me. 
So why do I feel like I was let down by this? I liked at least half of the soundtrack and even the songs I didn't like were usually fun to watch from a story level. Honestly, it isn't that Ally's rise to fame isn't interesting nor that Lady Gaga isn't engaging to watch perform, but something about the whole experience ended up boring me at a certain point. The progression of their relationship is steady and reasonably well paced too, so I'm willing to admit it may just have missed the mark for me somewhere that I can't quite pinpoint. 

Hellraiser
Directed by: Clive Barker
8.5/10
Damn, this movie is hard core. 
I don't use that term flippantly, for "Hellraiser" is an example of something which genuinely fucking badass. I've come to a realization now, not just having seen this film but in the context of many great horror flicks, that architecture and nasty practical effects may be one of the greatest strengths of the genre for me. If the flick has interesting effects and architecture which take me out of this world and in to the realms of a not too unbelievable nightmare, I'm sold. 
I truly adore how "80's" this film is. Everything from the vapid middle class stiffs to the lightning effects and abrupt ending scream out a nostalgia I barely understand but fully adore. Though I've more than likely encountered the frightening creatures and demons from "Hellraiser" half a hundred times, they are so much more domineering on screen and in context. I can only imagine that the cinematic effect of this thoughtfully crafted hellish beings would've been huge and overwhelming for its time, but honestly I'd argue it still very much holds up to modern day. The gnashing teeth, the slimy bloody decrepit skins, the bloody and unnatural perversions of the body are all excellent and manage to have a cohesive style despite each being unique conceptually. The environments, too, have character absolutely unique to this film. There is not one single clean surface in this movie. Every wall, floorboard, city street, table and bed are disgusting in this kind of unassuming way and I love it. 
Ok there is one totally unforgivable thing about "Hellraiser" though. This movie has waaaay too much use of the word "Daddy" and I squirm just remembering it. Daddy's coming, Daddy's here, I have to phone Daddy- ACK. Why do grown woman call their fathers "Daddy"? It's fucking weird. Stop it. Nasty. 

A Series of Unfortunate Events
Directed by: Brad Siberling
8.5/10
I'm a SOUE fan-girl and I'm not sorry about it. I grew up with these books like some people did JK Rowling's books and not to dab on them or anything, but at least Daniel Handler hasn't turned out to be hysterically awful and embarrassing. Seeing this film in theatres and meeting Danial Handler in person have been some of the most exciting moments of my life and I won't pretend they weren't just because people think this film is cringe.
I genuinely do not see why there is such an air of cringe surrounding this flick. Even the last 10 minutes which are, I admit, a little emotionally glib, feel kind of earned just because of how heartwarming the story is on a conceptual level. I have a special place in my heart for the Netflix series too, but if I'm being honest the only advantage it has over Siberling's movie is that it covers the whole series so it can achieve greater thematic arcs and such. my favourite bits of the series are later on too, from books 7-10. 
Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that haters be damned, this is a legitimate excellent piece of cinema and is a devoted and passionate adaption of the source material even if it takes a few liberties to tie it all up in the end. Have you seen the fucking sets and costumes?! Have you!?
Casting is not something I always recognize as artful and intentional in film, and that's probably more a flaw on my part than anything, but this is one of those movies where the casting is an essential piece to its success. Every single character is lovingly casted and in this respect it is leagues ahead of the Netflix series, whom really only has a few people going for it. The "child actors" in particular (I say this because at least one of them is definitely an adult) are spectacular. Klaus is thoughtful, clever, brooding, and emotional often at the detriment of his intelligence and motivation to move forward productively. Violet is maternal, intelligent, compassionate, and clearly carries a heavy burden as the eldest sibling. Sunny isn't much of a character but this baby actor is somehow one of the most endearing I've ever seen. Her emotional cues are genuine and timely to a surprisingly competent degree. Even those casted as side characters, including Meryl Streep and Billy Connoly, bring life to their characters on screen as if they themselves had created these personas. Then, of course, there is my favourite brahmic wizard, Jim Carrey. I've said it once and I'll say it again, Jim Carrey is one of the greatest comedic geniuses of our time. There is no force on this Earth that can contain him, he can only be directed and witnessed. He plays 3 different characters in "A Series of Unfortunate Events" and to each one he is just dancing under their skin, a sparkling fireball of deliberate timing and delivery, breathing this unique energy in to each of them like he is a God himself. Maybe he is. If Jesus walks among us, he wouldn't start out as a pious enlightened beardy guy, he would start out like this- gleefully springing in to the human existence with a cosmic love the likes of which we could only ever hope to understand some day. 
The atmosphere of this flick is macabre and gloomy but never straying away from the kind of Suessian playfulness the series has become known for. The soundtrack is invigorating, unique, and gripping while never falling in to cliche rhythm for action-packed sequences and such. This is possibly the only film in which watching the entire credits is absolutely worth it, and not for a secret scene at the end or anything but because the film doesn't stop its creative direction even after the curtain draws. Snicket's magical realism is a fucking delight to explore and I'm probably going to re-read the whole series next year for an easy new years resolution because god damn. This shit gets me. I love a piece of media for children that depicts adults as cowardly, frequently unkind, and distracted by their own unfortunate circumstances in a way that is not unsympathetic but rather opens up the possibility for children to consider their parents and other adults as people who are flawed, imperfect, and every bit as lost and confused as they are. In a world full of adults which refuse to validate your experiences as a young person, your only choice is to persevere for yourself alone, which I find to be both grim and empowering. That's just how Snicket's work is though. For every moment that it is sardonic, upsetting, depressing, and morose, there are messages of empowerment which never come at the expense of favourable circumstance or people humouring you. Every ounce of empowerment in this series is earned. There are no "chosen ones", no Mary Sue's, and fuck it it's just better than Harry Potter. 
  
The Lost Boys
Directed by:Joel Schumacher
9/10
Joel Schumacher understands what sexy is on a level no one else does. Joel Schumacher understands what is cool, alluring, and iconic in a way nobody else ever could. Vampires have not recovered from this 1987 flick and they never will. It is literally impossible to watch this and not experience that overwhelming ill feeling like the first time you understood what being "turned on" meant. "The Lost Boys" is a lot like Charles Burns's comic "Black Hole" in the sense that I watch it and I feel a fear and tension that strikes me in a way completely unique to any other piece of media like it and I always leave it feeling kind of gross and haunted by such intense sexuality. 
"The Lost Boys" tells a story about the dangerous of being seduced by peer pressure in to competitive masculinity, hard drugs, and isolating yourself from your family. Michael is saved by his younger brother, someone who struggles with accepting who his brother has become and the crowd he has gotten in to because it is socially stigmatized and Michael is genuinely scared shitless, feeling shame, and struggling with his own identity now that he has "turned". Obviously, this is also a story about coming out as a gay man and the danger of "predatory gays". This movie can be brilliant if you want to consider it this way, or it can just pass as the coolest piece of vampire cinema ever made. 
From the opening shot and the introduction to the recurring musical theme, you immediately understand that the vampires are a threatening and malicious presence that appear to shape the inherent danger and sexual maturity of the environments their in with their presence alone. The boardwalk is not just a fun cool place for young people, it is filmed in such a way that poses it as a dangerous place where people are made vulnerable to forces they barely understand. This atmosphere of a threat understood only in a guttural sense is carried for most of the film- as a viewer you are tricked and seduced in to following these cool guys on motorcycles just as Michael is. Sex scenes are backed by the same musical theme as the one played in the cult-like initiations, intense yet tender, dangerous yet vulnerable. The whole film, every moment of it, is intoxicating like a spiked drink when you're barely old enough to understand what's happening. This film is predatory through and through but this doesn't stop it from being bold and effortlessly cool too, and I'll speak more to why vampires have never been cooler than they were here in a moment. 
Keifer Sutherland is not an actor I like, pretty much ever. However, just as I discovered while watching "Stand by Me", the man knows how to be imposing and frightening without being loud or aggressive. Simularily, these vampires are cooler and more involved than typical vampire lore but it isn't by because they are capable of more violence, necessarily. Lets list off some examples of what makes a vampire in this film more interesting than in most. Vampires do not "die easily", they explode and shriek and have seemingly endless amounts of blood. They do not sleep in coffins, and in fact they couldn't be farther from the formal and "creepy" cliche of the usual vampire. No, these guys aren't "creepy" in the traditional sense but are instead creepy like that guy in high school that always carried a knife and dealt drugs- like someone who probably had the capability of murdering you over nothing, and you're never quite sure what has kept you safe. You are constantly on edge, never trusting them but being compelled to follow them. They hang like bats in caves with fucked up bat feet, they literally erupt in flames in the sunlight, they are drowsy and fucked up during the day time which gives Michael this sick and ever more vulnerable aspect to him. These vampires fly but we never see it happen- they're just suddenly there and never far off. These vampires can hypnotize and trick you not just in to following them to their lair and going through with initiations, but in to going insane as a way to isolate you from your peers. They are strong but they do not flaunt it, so you never know how strong they can actually be. 
They will never be this cool again. 

Sleepy Hollow
Directed by: Tim Burton
8/10
This and "Sweeney Todd" mark a change in direction Tim Burton took around this time toward more "adult" gore and Gothic aesthetics. While the Gothic aesthetic is rarely my thing, Tim Burton is the undisputed king of it and the world created in "Sleepy Hollow" is spectacularly immersive. I really appreciate the purity of his vision and execution in this film in particular- every piece of this Gothic mystery is very deliberately designed with a colour palate that may now be somewhat over-done but even considering that you can see that Burton's attention to detail and cohesive setting are more substantial than other films in the genre. Tim Burton pretty much owns the"brooding fairy tale" genre and this film is a perfect example of it. "Sleepy Hollow" is very much an "old school" supernatural horror film with an emphasis on lightning, darkness, blood, and graveyards, and I kind of love that it manages to take these fairly simplistic aesthetic components and weave a compelling and well-paced mystery which still has a unique relationship to all of these classic motifs. 
Also, Johnny Depp is great in this film. Johnny Depp was, for many years, a very versatile and exciting talent and I love seeing movies he was in while he was still very much at the top of his game- when his characters all had flavour and his characteristically awkward delivery. Seeing him in this reminded me that I am long overdue for a "Secret Window" viewing. 

Big Fish
Directed by: Tim Burton
10/10
This is one of maybe ten films I've ever seen that is guaranteed to make me cry, and it feels absolutely earned and not at all manipulative. When that fucking fish leaps out of the water, fuck. That's it. That's it for me. That is what I strive towards every day- to write something that can make me feel the way that bigass fish throwing itself triumphantly in to the sky does. I love stories which genuinely believe in the splendour and grandiose nature of our lives- in a way I think approaching subjects that could normally be corny this earnestly is what earns films like "Big Fish" a special place in my heart. This being a fantastical and joyful story does not stop it from being completely Burton-escque either. You can see Burton's clear influence in cinematography, framing, and colour. Every environment is bursting with life and I do think this is characteristic of Tim Burton's films- even when things are grim and dying, they have character and a language of their own which speak to us. The adventurous nature of "Big Fish" is such that the setting, characters, and atmosphere changes every ten minutes and yet not for a moment do you feel juggled around or distracted. 
Something "Big Fish" speaks to that is very important to me is that it honours the idea that there should be ceremony to our lives, especially in death. We've lost so much of our traditional cultural drive towards ceremonial passages and part of this is due to our recent tendency towards matters of logic and the tangible, and away from the more flighty concepts of religion and spirituality. However, the most significant factor in the "Westernization" of death is Capitalism, which shouldn't be a shock. Why should each person have a personal, engaging, and meaningful interaction with death when its ultimately just the disposal of a body? Why would we dispose of the body in environmentally friendly ways which respect the family's wishes and finances when we could profit off of grieving? Cool and radical. Capitalism is neat. 
Anyways, I appreciate that while the relationships in this film are complex and layered, as are their respective arcs in understanding each other, the grand take-away of the story appears to be that in telling our stories, in prescribing meaning and emotion, and in creating ceremony as often as possible in the only things we ever get to truly own (our lives, experiences, and relationships), we can be empowered like this man is. We can become the big fish gawping and leaping in to the air. 
Something about that just gets me, and if you prefer "Forest Gump" you can get the fuck outta here. 
Danny Devito's bare ass >>>>>> Tom Hank's bare ass

In The Mouth of Madness
Directed by: John Carpenter
8.5/10
I remember feeling like I've seen a lot of films like this before (The Shining, 1408, The Ring, They Live etc) but at the same time it never felt predictable or like something I'd seen too many times before. One thing "In the Mouth of Madness" has over other depictions of people losing their minds and/or getting lost in frightening places is that the insanity is depicted as something that is fuelled by paranoia and is disturbingly focused. In my opinion, this is the best way to examine insanity. While insanity certainly can and will take the form of incoherent chaos, I am most interested in a madness that manifests in a very deliberate and authoritative way. Maybe this is just how I'm most familiar with it, as a person with a certain tendency towards obsession and paranoia, but either way I think examining the madness of it's protagonist from this angle gives this film a bit of an edge. 
One thing I've grown to notice and really appreciate about John Carpenter's work is his inventive use of shots which show "regular life" appearing frightening and threatening without any obvious skewing of reality. Encountering people outside of cars on highways in the dead of night is frightening in our normal lives and John Carpenter knows how to show us this without any excessive effects. This way, when that figure out on the highway is shown in the fits of madness to be a corpse or something, there's some deep psychological pull towards our real life sensory connections to events like this. I'm probably butchering this. I just know its great, whatever he is doing. His writing and directing style is also very claustrophobic, always closing you in more and more until you're as trapped as the characters on screen. 
I find the idea of being possessed by the malicious creative spirit and literature to be really compelling for a couple reasons. First off, who hasn't been kind of possessed by these things at some point? Secondly, I have never been a particularly creative person in terms of creating art and fiction, but even so I have been fascinated by whatever it is that pushes artists in to madness just to feverishly get their vision out of them. I think about David Bowie creating "Black Star" just weeks before his death and what it must've been like to be compelled to create this thing and get it out of you with such intensity, not being able to rest even in the late stages of cancer until it is complete. What must that last sigh be like, finishing the thing? I remember the upheaval of emotion after finishing particularly heavy essays in school, but that's nothing like this, is it?
There's a lot that can be unpacked from this movie about existentialism and the human condition. First off and most obviously we have Sam Neil starring in to the void and it starring right back, and then there's question the author poses in the confession chamber about whether what he's made can be considered a religious faith now that more people believe in it than the bible. Not only do more people believe in the books this author has made, but what he has written has actively influenced the fabric of reality. At this point, it has to be "real", doesn't it? It's definitely as real if not more real than the Bible at that point. 
Finally, I just want it out there that Sam Neil is a highly under-rated actor. This man is obviously incredible here, single-handedly gives "Bicentennial Man" a heart, and is literally always a pleasure to see on screen. He rocks, and I'm sad he is probably retired now.

Nightmare on Elm Street
Directed by: Wes Craven
8.5/10
I would've loved to do a more intelligent and insightful write-up on this one, but sadly I was pretty deep in throws of legit medical exhaustion when we saw this in theatres (which I have no regrets about, this was an absolute 10/10 theatre experience!) so I wasn't able to coherently remember any of my thoughts, if any of them were intelligent in the first place lol. 
This story about a girl with the most useless boyfriend on Earth (who is still stupid charming anyways, damn you Depp) has some of the most evocative images in a horror flick I've ever seen, especially for a slasher film which I generally dislike as a genre. In fact, this may be not only the slasher film I like but the only slasher film I *loved*. 
The special effects in this film are super inventive and as a whole "Nightmare" can almost be viewed as a showcase of what creative ingenuity in cinematography and special effects can achieve. Even at it's most tense and exciting, "Nightmare on Elm Street" is constantly pushing the boundaries on what we expect and what new ways the horror of an invisible threat can be shown. Even thinking back to "The Invisible Man", in some respects this still has it beat because of all of the bizarre supernatural imagery achieved too. 
I like that this exists as kind of a time capsule not just for the style and attitudes of the 80's, but for that age in adolescence where you are old enough to think  and reason independently but not old enough to be respected, old enough to love maturely but never be validated, to have freedom but ultimately all within the confines of maternal love and protection. 
There are some scenes from this film I will never forget. Some obvious, like the clawed hand in the bathtub scene, and some which may be more specific to me and my tastes like the vulnerability conveyed in the scene with the two teenage girls huddled behind an only slightly bigger teen boy, cautiously approaching a strange sound in the night. 

Candyman
Directed by: Bernard Rose
9/10
I am starting to think I may just love Clive Barker stories. I'm thinking of checking out his novels in the future. Barker tells stories about the stigma and marginalization of wilfully ignored groups in richly layered narratives and I can kind of see why people fear Jordan Peele ruining "Candyman" because what is seen here as intelligent and nuanced "woke-ness" will inevitably be more blunt in Peele's hands. 
There are tons of perspectives that can be unpacked in "Candyman" and at least a dozen different ways to interpret the villain/ghost/mental illness conflict and yet no matter what route you take, the ending is satisfying and no concepts introduced feel "half-baked" as the story moves on. It becomes pretty obvious why this is overlooked and why I'd never heard of it in popular culture; "Candyman" stars an intelligent feminist protagonist with virtually no "girl-power" energy, the story and threat is mostly involving poor black communities, and the social issues discussed are those concerning people of color and the mental health of women in particular. The film is very self-aware of the inevitable societal reactions to these themes too- there are several nods towards the city not caring about violence towards black women, that the police are content letting "Candyman" exist merely as legend because they don't want to investigate ghetto crimes, and of course the two female leads remark at how unwilling authorities are to believe women and validate their experiences. Issues of white privilege, white saviours, and colonialism are implicit in the narrative and yet it never detracts from the story elements like a lesser screenplay may suffer from. "Candyman" has an incredibly tight story and a consistently exciting threat, so it's examination of all of these social issues must come from creative inclusion- characters speak to their experiences within the horror of the story that is also tied directly to their experiences in poverty, the gentrified and ghetto settings are constantly explored and compared in tandem, the horror of severe mental illness is played out alongside the frustration experienced by the protagonist as a woman in a masculine field of work. 
It's just brilliant and highly under-rated. IMDB is unreliable for reviews at the best of times but giving "Candyman" a 6/10 is just criminal. For the life of me I cannot see a weak point to this film- even set aside the endless layers of social criticism and horror elements that play many notes at once, even just on a technical level this is a brilliant film. The lead performance by Virginia Madsen is incredibly focused, dedicated, and shows great emotional range. The soundtrack gives me mad "Uncut Gems" vibes and the shot composition is also pretty cool throughout (I adore the city backdrop and the giant bonfire shown earlier in the film) . The sets are uniquely gritty, industrial, intense and the graffiti in the Candyman's den basically tells the backstory all on its own. 
You know what, lets pretend that modern black communities being not so far removed from slavery and the deep traumatic ties they have to systemic poverty and colonial abuse are total baloney and not a legitimate horror element all on its own. Lets pretend that gentrification isn't a totally genius topic of modern psychological horror as we see entire communities disappear in place of an uncanny and manufactured augmented white reality. Lets pretend none of those ideas are fascinating or evident in "Candyman" at all. Even if you view it just as a simple ghost slasher story, the violence is fucking dope. When the Candyman attacks, the blood and gore is shocking and the camera never looks away from the shock and suffering. It is totally unflinching and I do not understand why it isn't getting recognition for this. 
"Candyman" seems like it gets really snubbed and I'm sorry, I'm just going to get out and say it, I can see no other reason that it would be so poorly reviewed even for horror film standards other than for racist and sexist reasons which would've been especially prevalent in the 90's.
Give me one good argument against this. I'l wait.  


Hands on a Hardbody
Directed by: S.R Bindler
7/10
This is Quentin Tarantino's favourite documentary and I can see why- curiously, this film is patriotic towards Americans while lending none of the toxic patriotism we associate with the nation. American culture is explored in this little documentary about a contest in rural Texas to win a truck more than any other documentary I can think of, at least in the sense that it shows you the most naturally pervasive elements of unique American culture without any pointed criticism or praise. American Christianity, poverty, desperation, and determination are all on display in this eclectic mix of a dozen strangers who become friends while going through this insane endurance challenge to win a truck worth 15,000$. 
It's bizarre because the premise doesn't appear to have much reach at all, you have to assume it'll be mostly like a reality TV show that uses Walmart-Americans as comedic pieces and editing to make the competition seem more fierce. Yet, in reality it is none of these things. The contest goes on at least twice as long as you could imagine, the contestants are all given intimate and affectionate screen time and voices, and the suffering and whole-hearted determination are completely genuine. It's really unbelievable that a contest like this can have as much strategy, willpower, and madness involved as it does. I was also surprised by how emotionally invested I became. When it gets down to the last 4 or 5 people, each drop out is legitimately devastating. It is heartwarming to watch contestants hug each other and return after a well-deserved rest to cheer the others on, but underneath that wholesome American pride and Southern hospitality, you realize that dreams have been completely shattered. The majority of the people in this competition are not in it to win the truck, they are in it to sell the truck and pay off debts. These people are putting their health, sanity, and even their jobs at risk to hold out hope for 3+ days with their hands on a truck. Strangers gather around this truck and suffer together, play too many games of chess together, go delirious and watch people cling to hope with the bare minimum grip on reality together, lose sensation in their feet and ankles, weep and laugh and pray together. It's bonkers. I laughed at the man determined to win in his daddy's cowboy boots, I laughed with the man who just brought a dozen snickers for each 5 minute break on the hour, and I cringed empathetically with the contestants that lose from simple mistakes or their bodies physically giving up. It is a wild 90 minute ride full of weird, strange, and genuinely admirable American citizens.  
When someone finally does win, the documentary wraps up right away. It is clear that the prize and even the contest itself was never the subject, but the incredible will of these people were. 

Super Dark Times
Directed by: Kevin Phillips
8.5/10
I've seen this film like 5 times now and though it is not "spooky" or "scary", I felt like it suited Spooptober because it is both comfy and unsettling. This film feels like an adaptation of the comics "My Friend Dahmer" and "Black Hole", with an influence from films like "A Simple Plan" and coming-of-age classics.Above all else, I think what makes this film stand out is it's tenderness. These are teenage boys traversing a trauma and so they behave like boys- they are stressed, frightened, and calling out for their mothers like boys, and yet confused, horny, and trying to navigate 300 new experiences at once like teens. The establishing shots at the beginning of the movie captures the natural ease of the friendships and world-views of these kids with an honesty that is remarkable even for a genre which depends on this transparency.  The child (one may possibly be an adult) actors are really impressive and the director uses tight shot compositions really effectively when showing us the emotion in these teens that they are too stressed or confused to speak out about themselves. 
Man, I'm exhausted. I don't know what else to say. I just fucking love this flick. It makes me feel nauseous and stressed out but all in the ways I remember feeling at that age just existing in a body that doesn't understand anything going on around them but has to constantly adapt to it anyways. I may not have accidentally murdered a dude with my friends and witnessed the creation of a monster I had once loved, but I remember what it felt like to feel isolated and like I was sinking in a trauma I couldn't talk about, I remember that weird period of life when we are simultaneously becoming independent and desperate for a hug. I remember the strange and upsetting eroticism in every little thing at that age. "Super Dark Times" is an uncomfortably relatable piece about unspeakable distress at the tender and fragile cusp of teen-hood and I guess I will just keep finding new people to show this to until I die. 

Prince of Darkness
Directed by: John Carpenter
6.5/10
This is my least favourite John Carpenter film by a country mile, but it wasn't at all a bad film. It just didn't feel like a Carpenter film to me, and there are many reasons for this. His mark is certainly there- the heavy and confident soundtrack, some trademark visuals and gross special effects, and an industrial setting- but whatever it is that you would call his "soul" is missing. 
Not one character is memorable, emotionally engaging, or interesting outside of a device for exposition dumps and speaking to concepts that can't be explored properly. "Prince of Darkness" is not visually interesting most of the time and there are only a couple of stand-out scenes (although those are awesome and unique to this film for sure), which leads me to the biggest issue I take with this film- it introduces half a dozen fascinating topics and ideas that fundamentally cannot be explored in a visual medium unless they go completely bonkers with it. Quantum physics, particle physics, microbiology, dark matter, and conceptual sciences of that sort need more attention to be adequately explored and made interesting than just brief discussion of these ideas in a church basement. The relationship between God, mathematics, and these conceptual sciences is a spectacular source of awe, uncanny confusion, and a ripe platform in exploring the futility of humanity and what we believe we understand. How do the rational circles, the science communities, and the faithful respond to this discovery that all of these human-prescribed concepts of order and meaning we are so devout to may only be half of the puzzle, a piece of the whole that we could never hope to understand or engage with meaningfully? How can we comprehend such a horrific void in the knowledge and faith that has comforted us for hundreds of years? These are extremely intimate and interesting questions and this film can only skim the surface because Carpenter had to involve some kind of real plot in to all of this as well. This isn't to say that a great attempt isn't made to throw his audience in to this damned spiral, but without engaging characters, the ability to leap in to the sciences he mentions, or the freedom to abandon a plot in favour of a more conceptually driven piece of art, we are left with this film that has a half-baked plot and about 90 minutes of intentionally patient and thoughtful build up that still is doomed to fall short intellectually. 
I am privy to slow burns and patient movies, but they need to have some sort of emotional or intellectual engagement. Otherwise, it is just a chore. 
When I think of Carpenter, I think of his characters which are minimalist but just about instantly personable. I think about his stories which explore existential and even at times cosmic/Lovecraftian through these characters and performances which inspire genuine stress, horror, and awe. When I think of Carpenter I think of his in-human visuals, special effects, and commitment to a physical relationship between his threat and his subjects. "Prince of Darkness" wasn't a bad film. It has a lot of interesting ideas, it is filmed well and has a great soundtrack, and ultimately I just felt more let down than bored. I can't help but think that all of these huge and cerebral ideas would've been better explored in a book, either in a lengthy piece of fiction with more fleshed out characters with morbid curiosities like "Annihilation", a more serious non-fiction book discussing our cultural relationships and rejections of these ideas, or alternatively in an unhinged comic by Jodorowski. 
I'm so sorry Carpenter, my man. I have a high bar of standards for you. Maybe it isn't fair, but I hope it is evident of how consistently mind-blowing your films usually are in my eyes.  

The Thing
Directed by: John Carpenter
10/10
I think I may write a big one about "The Thing" sometime in the future, so I'll just justify the rating I've given it for now. 
This is my favourite John Carpenter film and could even be my horror film in general. Each time I watch it I am left with more to consider, less hope in my heart, more alarming anxiety pounding in my ears, and left ever more in awe of this cinematic masterpiece. Virtually every element of this film is strong and narratively cohesive with everything else- the relationships between the characters, the threat, the environment, and the thematic tension all work together in a horrifying symphony of dread and frightful danger. Each character, however brief their involvement may be, leaves a distinct impression and exists as more than constructs to move plot and sow conflict. Each person offers a unique and critical perspective on the issue at hand which creates exponentially more ways to unravel this deceptively simple idea in to the claustrophobic nightmare it becomes. The nauseating tension and paranoia of the crew is adopted by the audience too as we cannot trust anyone, we cannot predict or understand the intelligence and motivation of the threat, and the environment forces us to be constantly alert. The threat is fundamentally alarming in a way no other monster I've seen in cinema achieves. It is not necessarily the brutality, the size, or the immediate nature of this monster which makes it so believable frightening, but the conceptual unease we feel knowing it's core tactic to imitate and destroy from within everything and everyone we trust. Not only this, but the aggressive nature of the Thing has it be actively aggressive, unpredictably intelligent, and constantly evolving. The artistic talent behind the special effects pieces are also critical to our emotional fear response- this monster looks "real" even if it is nothing like anything we have seen before. We recognize the mutated imitation of friends and animals, but it has entered a state of such disgusting horror that we feel immediately betrayed by our senses. Is this what has been in him all along? Have we been genuinely deceived, or is it sowing mistrust amongst us? These are just a few of the first questions we are forced to grapple with.  
"The Thing" annihilates our humanity. I cannot think of another survival/monster horror film that imposes this kind of sick dread in me. "The Thing" is an extremely powerful piece of cinema and deserves more words than I can offer here. Stay tuned. 

Nightmare Before Christmas
Directed by: Tim Burton
9/10
It is a scientific fact that this film will remain cool for at least 200 more years. 
Though it has been thoroughly Hot Topic'ed, I think Tim Burton's "Nightmare Before Christmas" is a rare example of a franchise that hasn't been completely cheapened by this. Maybe it is because it seems like the franchise that nursed Hot Topic in to the world after possibly inventing the popular non-political emo aesthetic because even after seeing Jack Skellington on a billion hoodies and backpacks a year for the last two decades, I still haven't grown exhausted by it. Maybe middle school teachers and Hot Topic employees would disagree with me here, but that's my perspective. 
There is much to say about what gives "Nightmare" that magical quality, almost having a life of its own. Every time I've seen it I have been surprised how rapt in awe I've been, launched in to this world of grim gothic aesthetic with such a vivid and playful attitude. Everything appears to be barely teetering on the edge of cliche and cringe, but something in the childlike reckless abandon Tim Burton breathes in to this piece keeps it all together. 
Every character design is fascinating and hilarious, gross and tactile and always managing to fit right in with their respectively demented environments but never fading in to the background. The character design is probably the film's greatest strength- every frame plays with these characters and appears to be constantly pushing each one to add more and more to the world around them. Whether the shot is of a small side character doing a simple gag, or one of many musical sequences with them all playing off each other and reaching this delightful crescendo of spooky Halloween whimsy, every one of them is memorable and their design alone speaks to the carefree edginess Burton's world achieves. 
Oogy Boogey and his set pieces in particular will be awesome until the end of time. 
"Nightmare Before Christmas" is enormous fun and while the story is simple and only really there to push exploration on the world and it's gimmicks, I actually kind of love the wholesome statement of Jack lying in the graveyard, haven just failed terribly at his whole Christmas escapade, saying "what the heck, I tried my best, now I can go and set things right". So often we see "emo" media be depressing, morose, and fiercely shunning this kind of optimism. Maybe this is the reason that "Nightmare" never gets old for me- it is genuinely having fun and utilizes the Gothic motifs and aesthetic as a means for inspiring a charming Halloween story, as opposed to capitalizing on the emotional weight typical of "emo" media.
Incidentally, I will laugh at the jazz musician saying "whats happenin', bone daddy?" to Jack Skellington until the day I die. 

Kill Bill vol. 1
Directed by: Quentin Tarantino
7.5/10
What is it about revenge flicks that makes them so relaxing and comfy to watch, despite whatever gore and intensity involved? I think it must be that revenge is something easy to understand and plot out, and is of course so satisfying to see it all play out exactly as you'd hoped. I guess they're like rom-coms in this way- they are comforting to watch because they are predictable but don't bore us. We know how it ends, but it feels good to be aboard for the emotional and usually action packed journey there. Who cares if we know what the view is at the top, its the journey there that builds up to the satisfying of resting at the top. You've earned it. They've earned it. This is good and right and how the universe works in an idealized scenario like the ones revenge movies put forward. 
The "Kill Bill" series have superbly vivid emotional and physical energy and they're fun pretty much the whole way through. They're probably my least favourite Tarantino films but I still love them for what they are- entertaining martial arts flicks with Tarantino's preformative touch. They're just fucking rad, and they can get away with being a lot sillier than modern Tarantino because tight storytelling isn't involved in the equation at all. "Kill Bill" is more concerned with stringing along a number of cool and entertaining ideas and fight scenes and allowing everything else to kind of just play off that. These films are more about a series of impactful and exciting moments than they are a powerful story with enigmatic lead characters. There are so many parts of these films that just would not fit at all in Tarantino's other work, such as the lengthy animated section in vol 1. This bit is so estranged from everything else Tarantino is associated with, but it totally works in the more cartoonish and energetic environment of "Kill Bill". 
Also, this flick has *at least* as much foot than "Hollywood" has. 
AT. LEAST. 
I have a theory that the entire screenplay was actually just written around the foot scene, but that's for another place and time. 

Exorcist III
Directed by: William Peter Blatty
9.5/10
From a film-making perspective, I think this may be the best film I've seen all month. The oppressive atmosphere of this film isn't achieved by accident. Unsettling tension sits heavy on your chest as if you are perpetually in that space as a child when you wake up in the middle of the night and everyone is asleep, it is too quiet and frightening for you to even move so you just lay there paralyzed until morning. Blatty has a very deliberate use of space in the direction he points his camera- always uncomfortably claustrophobic or exposed and vulnerable, at an angle that just isn't right, or fixated on an image that sits too still and unmoving. Conversations and reactions are frequently cut short, distracted, cut in and out of tension and uncomfortable emptiness unless we are witnessing Damien in which case we are held rapt in terror. Sounds are also important in maintaining the atmosphere of "Exorcist III". All of the noises typically vacant or ignored in film- the creaking, shuffling, murmuring and quiet footsteps, are all echoed  as if every scene is a Cathedral. 
Before we even get to Brad Dourif and his heart-stopping performance, Blatty knows how to exploit our implicit fear of things like death and the threat of an evil so malicious, so inconceivably uncaring and removed from humanity that not even our God can shelter us from it. Under the claw of such a vicious affront to God, we are helpless and lie trembling before it. Characters in this film all exist alone, none with any comforting support that can distract them from the absurdity of death, grief, and the suspicion that something not of this world lurks behind the distressingly "human" evil we all know- serial killers. The majority of this film is a quiet and contemplative horror, sinking in to you like a heavy cold. By the time Blatty gets to the looming threat which then turns to raving aggressive and horrific evil, we have no beliefs or hopes left to cling to. Damien's scenes left me in speechless terror despite him being mostly an inactive threat at that point. His words that are expelled, shaped, spat out with intent that is critically engrossing and terrifying to witness. Then in the end, of course, we are left with no comfort. It ends like it began- with a gross stillness, an uncaring and unsympathetic darkness, not an ounce of humanity but the anxiety in our hearts. 

Kill Bill vol 2
Directed by: Quentin Tarantino
8/10
Basically everything which I felt left Kill Bill 1 fall a little flatter than other Tarantino flicks is elevated here. 
Instead of flashbacks providing context for the Bride's anger, now they serve as context for the betrayal felt by both Bill and the Bride. The story told here is a lot more emotional and deliberate than the fun vengeance of volume 1. The sweet and idealic backstory in the first scene isn't rushed and lulls you in to this breezy feeling, reconsidering whether this is the same ruthless Bill we had seen in the last film. It is very effective at giving the Bride's revenge a critical extra kick while at the same time opening up the idea of a genuine intimacy between her and Bill. 
The tenderness revealed in all of the flashbacks with Bill and the initially shocking scenes with Bill and their daughter in act 3 are great as a juxtaposition to the anger, violence, and aggression we had seen so far in the series. I really love the scene where Bill is making sandwiches, in particular. Something about his zen-like patience and deliberate movements in making the sandwich, cutting the crusts off, plating it all while pacing his storytelling in such a way that it matches the slow deliberation of this action...I love it. I love that he tells this story which reveals that their daughter has already been a little corrupted by him, possibly already in training to kill for him which is enormously disgusting on its own never mind considering his relationship to the girl's mother, all with this genuinely gentle demeanour when we all know he can strike at any minute. I think some of Tarantino's best emotional dialogue can be found in these scenes; depicting an old man owning up to his prideful jealousy and spiteful actions and his victim telling him that this isn't enough, he is not forgiven, and no promise of a cozy bohemian home and family life will convince her to forgive him. 
In addition to the crucial element of intimacy that Bill and his character arc bring to the story, I have to argue that Michael Madsen and his god damned hat are also absolutely essential to the elevation of volume 2 over volume 1. Michael Madsen is not a man of diverse talents, but he absolutely owns this character and I love every minute of his gruff and carefree cowboy trailerboy persona. The chapter following his cruelty, the buried alive chapter, is (in my opinion) one of the most invigorating scenes in cinema. The minimalist approach to the lighting, the awful heavyness of the sound of soil hitting the coffin, and Uma Thurman's incredible performance sets us up with unspeakable despair, only to shot in to elation and empowering excitement as we see her kick ass and punch right through that motherfuckin soil like the supernatural badass she is. 
I'm not always a fan of badass power fantasies, but this is an exception. The end credit scenes are spectacular, too, and legitimately give me chills. You don't realize how immersive and creative Tarantino has made the "Kill Bill" universe to be until you're watching those end credits. The "Kill Bill" series isn't my favourite of Tarantino's work by any stretch, but it's unarguably the most fun I've ever had with his work and in this dreadful and hopeless October, it was just what the doctor ordered. 

Beetlejuice
Directed by: Tim Burton
8.5/10
This is Burton at his most indulgent and what you get is a hysterical and timeless classic which features an instantly lovable cast and Danny Elfman's signature endless tuba track thumping along for the ride. "Beetlejuice" is a great example of what Tim Burton can achieve that few other directors can (save, possibly Wes Anderson. But even he holds back where Tim Burton springs forward with glee), and that is inviting mischief in to films for adults. Burton's films are given the freedom to engage in fun absurdity without the usual political weight of psychedelia, the "but what does this all mean?" puzzle and philosophical approach, and without the dread of any existential examination. I realize I've over-used this word this month, probably especially in relation to Tim Burton, but the man really understands the value of playing with concepts and ideas without establishing any bureaucratic meaning to anything. 
Watching "Beetlejuice" isn't an experience in looking at or thinking about the world in a new light, it's an experience in leaping in to this playful fantasy with wreckless abandon and engaging with the idea that hauntings and the concept of an afterlife is actually pretty funny when you remove any malicious intent or philosophy from it. Danny Elfman and Tim Burton know how to immediately inject life in to a film, and a large part of that is matching a loud and unique soundtrack to an environment which opens up endless possibilities for play before even establishing characters. This gives the audience an instantly exciting set-up and a feeling of familiarity which you can then either exploit by *subverting expectations* or play in to by introducing characters that really jive with this set-up. The protagonists in "Beetlejuice" are some of my favourites in all of Burton's work and they stand out, to me, as a needed example of a genuinely happy childless marriage. I am totally biased towards this aspect, but set that aside I don't think its up for debate that these characters stand out as some of the most likeable in Burton's cinematography. They are uncharacteristically happy, joyful, and without any gothic tendencies, and yet they still fit perfectly in to the macabre madness Michael Keaton's Beatleguese brings to the film. 
Speaking of brilliant performances, I gotta speak up for my girl Catherine O'Hara for a moment. This woman is easily one of the greatest actresses of our time and I feel she is criminally over-rated because she doesn't typically go for the dramatic weight that people like Toni Collette and Meryl Streep go for. Catherine O'Hara is consistently energetic and engages in scripts with a zealous and zany joy unlike any other. She seems to view every moment she is on screen as one which she can stand out and incite laughter, shock, and hysterical drama in to the piece as a whole. O'Hara doesn't do a lot of prolonged monologues or dramatic dialogue, she performs in moments, and I fucking love her. I adore Catherine O'Hara whether she is totally selling that hysterical dinner table dance scene or gawking at modern art. You don't have to do tense dramatic pieces to be talented, O'Hara, you are a god damn artist and I adore you. Please receive my love and adoration and know somewhere out there you have an absurdly dedicated fan. 
I mean really, if you aren't smiling and totally delighted by Winona Rider dancing to "Jump the Line" with those football people (who are there for some reason???" floating up that staircase, you have no joy left in your heart my friend. You should check out that handbook for the recently deceased, because your soul has clearly left you.   

Videogames

Wilmot's Warehouse
Developed by: Richard Hogg
9.5/10
This is not a big game. The entire game takes place in a warehouse and the central conceit does not change through the entire 4 or 5 hour run-through. However, it being a small game in this respect does not stop it from unfolding before you like a lotus in a surprisingly satisfying way. 
I absolutely adored this game, but I do think it will only appeal to a certain kind of person. The people that will love "Wilmot's Warehouse" are the same people that feel a euphoria about storage containers and categorizing things in to lists. The concept of a "junk droor" will upset these people, because every thing can and should have a place. The people that will love this game will have a desktop that is mostly folders and folders within folders. The people that will love "Wilmot's Warehouse" will feel relief at packing a suitcase just right. These are the mildly OCD and "type-A" traits that this game caters towards, and it does so brilliantly. 
The core game loop goes like this: You receive items, you categorize them and organize them, you work at delivering these goods in the most efficient way possible, and then you receive more goods that require you to re-organize and re-categorize so that you can use your space in the best way possible. There is the delivery phase, the customer phase, and the "stock" phase. Both the delivery and customer phases are timed to provide some urgency and motivation towards efficiency in the game, but the "stock" phase gives you infinite time to move things around and re-design your layout. It is very, very satisfying, and the wonderful chillhop music and sound design only add to this weirdly specific cathartic experience. It is interesting that this game can be both zen and intellectually challenging/stressful, but only as much as you decide it to be. You can allow for as much disarray and chaos as you like, you can push yourself to constantly re-think your arrangement to increase efficiency and gain stars, or you can ignore this completely. There are also multiple ways to adjust the difficulty levels, which is standard these days but still worth mentioning. 
I would like to see how other people organized their warehouses. I was pretty proud of mine and I feel that looking at their chosen organization and categorization within the warehouse says a lot about how a person thinks. 

80 Days
Developed by: Inkle
6/10
There's a lot of love and joy in this game and it is easy to see. While I didn't find the writing particularly compelling, I could feel the grin of the people behind it from across the Atlantic. The core concept is pretty neat and it was really fun to discover new routes and find all of the fantastical ways of travel across the globe. The buying and selling part at the markets is kind of neat too, though I found it to be kind of unbalanced as the majority of the "useful" items didn't end up being relevant pretty much at all. You could easily play the whole game taking pretty much no risks in this department, sticking with what you were given right at the beginning of the journey, and coast along completely fine. I think the developers intended on this game having a lot of replay value, but for me one run-through was enough even if I failed by a couple days. At least 75% of this game is reading and having no meaningful choices despite the "choose your own adventure" set-up, and this grew kind of boring after a while. 

Aviary Attorney
Developed by: Sketchy Logic
8/10
This artistically inspired detective game soars above the rest by using the trial format to achieve some pretty cool historical reveals in Revolution-era France. Basically every element of this indie game is a home run- the soundtrack is dramatic and matches the humour and spectacle of the plot fantastically, the artwork is obviously astounding and very memorable, the plot and dialogue hysterical, and the cast of characters all have fleshed out niche's and their own stand-out designs. It's well worth your time going through the original artwork gallery in the "extras" and marvelling at the detail put in to these animals for it is not just the general aesthetic and attentive animal designs that are great, it is the costume design too. My husband and I played this together and sadly I think we achieved the middle-of-the-road ending, neither siding fully with the revolutionaries or the bootlickers, but even so it was a fun ride the whole way through. The sarcastic and biting sense of humour never outstays its welcome either- it's playful in such a way that the genuine drama can occur without any awkward edge, which is nice too.

Comments