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Wylie Writes’ Ten Best Movies of 2013
By: Addison Wylie
Now that we’ve recognized the bad movies that were slingshot at audiences last year, it’s time to move on and engulf ourselves in the cream of the crop.
2013 introduced a wide variety of great films to audiences. I feel like I say that every year, but as I scour my selected picks, the only thing these movies share are the odd genre they’re grouped in.
Take documentaries, for example. Audiences were shown terrific autobiographies that opened their subjects like books. André Gregory: Before and After Dinner was one that caught my interest. Gregory is a writer, an actor, a director, an all around theatrical wiz, yet he presents himself as such a humble human being who could easily sweep the average movie goer off their feet. Director Cindy Kleine doesn’t have to stretch to find a comfortable groove for this pleasant doc.
Nicky’s Family wasn’t necessarily a straightforward autobiography like André Gregory: Before and After Dinner, but it told a revolutionary story involving Nicholas Winton. Winton, who rescued Jewish children before WWII, is shown in high regard with Matej Mináč’s film. Nicky’s Family may look like something you’d find on PBS on a Sunday afternoon, but the doc’s importance could impact a sold-out stadium.
Rounding out the list of sensational documentaries was Lucy Walker’s The Crash Reel, a film that snuck onto our radars when the year was winding down. The message about the importance of safety during extreme sports follows alongside snowboarder Kevin Pearce’s inspirational story. Walker’s doc is incredible, and you’ll never want to take your eyes off of it.
There were a few independent films that caught my attention and impressed me with their storytelling. The Oxbow Cure, for instance, is a film that moves deliberately slow. However, Yonah Lewis and Calvin Thomas were able to chill me to the bone with their frigid settings and drawn out creeping.
Sally El Hosaini’s My Brother the Devil was a fantastic feature film debut, providing superb performances from actors who could rationalize their drastic arcs quite well. Sean Garrity’s Blood Pressure was a worthy-enough thriller with an anchoring turn from Michelle Giroux. The film has its flaws, but I enjoyed myself all the way through this low budget drama.
And, Tower. I desperately wanted Tower and actor Derek Bogart to receive more recognition for their contributions to Toronto’s indie scene. It was an uncomfortable, often amusing and unhinged jarring character study from filmmaker Kazik Radwanski. I’ve seen a lot of fine performances from lots of actors in 2013, but Bogart’s portrayal of a disconnected wanderer stuck with me all year round.
Of course, I had some mainstream picks. I thought The Wolf of Wall Street was great fun. It was a lengthly film, but it showed audiences that Martin Scorsese is still a gutsy filmmaker willing to tackle any genre at any given time. August: Osage County was another strong contender. It’s ensemble cast knocked the film out of the park, and frequently had me in stitches.
Blue is the Warmest Colour, The Spectacular Now, and The Way, Way Back were three coming-of-age films that were unforgettable. All three featured moving performances from everyone involved, the creative minds behind the flicks were fearless, and nothing was sugarcoated. Movie goers could sense the filmmakers treating the characters with earnest gratitude, which helped sustain the staying power of each flick.
But, enough lollygaging. Let’s take a look at what fleshed out the top spots of 2013.
Underrated Movies:
Everyday is Like Sunday
It’s A Disaster!
Nicky’s Family
Texas Chainsaw 3D
Warm Bodies
Honourable Mentions:
#15. Tatsumi
#14. Charles Bradley: Soul of America
#13. To The Wonder
#12. Nebraska
#11. Short Term 12
Wylie Writes’ Ten Best Movies of 2013
#10. Spring Breakers
Spring Breakers acts as a statement about the impatient youth of today, and about the need for constant change amongst a modern younger generation.
It’s also a stylistic blast and an interesting conversation starter. Filmmaker Harmony Korine reassures his fans that he isn’t leaving, and he brilliantly introduces younger audiences to a new way to look at movies.
#9. Her
Spike Jonze’s poignant work is a personal film about an impersonal society.
#8. Downloaded
Downloaded is a fantastic documentary on the brink of a remarkable level involving the rise and the inevitable fall of the file trading peer-to-peer service Napster.
#7. 12 Years a Slave
An absolutely brutal, but rewarding watch that’s extremely well acted by its vast ensemble.
Filmmaker Steve McQueen shows an anthropological side to the relationship between an owner and his slave, as well as a fascinating, stomach churning outlook on how easy it was for people to consider other people “possessions”.
Jim Mickle’s We Are What We Are shows a hauntingly humanistic portrayal of something that’s downright unfathomable: cannibalism. The film is an excellent slow burn with a jaw-dropping payoff.
#5. A Hijacking
Unfortunately overshadowed, A Hijacking is a riveting docudrama that I hope gets the respect and attention it deserves despite ingredients that some may be seasick about.
Dallas Buyers Club is an all around exceptional piece of work with flawless lead performances by Matthew McConaughey and Jared Leto.
#3. Mud
Like the film’s stoic bluegrass backdrop, Mud resonates quietly. It’s an outstanding movie with phenomenal acting and careful direction.
#2. Before Midnight
Richard Linklater’s Before Midnight is brilliantly observant with its authentic portrayal of two people who love – and will always love – each other. The screenplay is simply one of the best.
#1. The Place Beyond the Pines
A complete 180° for filmmaker Derek Cianfrance. This sweeping drama about redemption, fatherhood, and “doing the right thing” is absorbing and never drops the ball. A true classic in the making.
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‘Ten Best Movies of 2013’ Artwork by: Sonya Padovani
Wylie Writes’ Ten Worst Movies of 2013
By: Addison Wylie
As the Oscars approach this Sunday, the time is finally here to reflect on 2013 through a pair of lists – my picks of the best and the worst. Let’s get the duds out of the way to make way for the flicks that’ll be remembered for years to come.
2013 introduced me to a new type of “bad”. It was a sub-version spawning off of the type of hatefulness I only save for my bottom three choices. These films treated its audience like imbeciles and expected us to lap up what they were serving and laugh our faces off – no questions asked. Instead, they were either smug or flat-out negative. You can expect to see those soiled diapers at the end of this role call.
Even though I have a main “bottom ten”, I made sure I included some dishonourable mentions in order to cover those who thought they were saved by the odd late entry. However, there were plenty of stinkers that fell off that additional listing as well. So, let’s talk about them.
I appreciate filmmakers wanting to be brave with how to tell their film’s story, but some approaches left me befuddled. In The Wagner Files, someone thought it was a good idea to portray composer Richard Wagner’s life through a broody soap opera with CSI inspired cutaways. With Thursday Till Sunday, the idea of realistically showing a crumbling family through a mundane road trip backfired immensely because, well, it made the film a bore as well.
Mainstream films took weird chances too, thinking the audience would applaud their efforts to connect to movie goers. “Audiences loved Wedding Crashers and adore the Internet, so let’s make a movie called The Internship and have Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson work at Google. Hilarity is bound to ensue, right?”
This logic also applied to smart aleck genre bending films. Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters flopped because it wanted to have its cake and eat it too by offering audiences a parody of what movie goers would expect and balancing it out with Resident Evil inspired action sequences.
Funny or Die’s iSteve, an attempt to make a satirical biopic about Steve Jobs, was amusing for the first few minutes, but soon ran out of steam as each joke was pounded into submission.
Children weren’t safe either. Disney’s haphazard cash-in on the Cars franchise Planes was a wreck without a single sign of creativity in sight. From Up on Poppy Hill had the visual zest of a vibrant family film, but managed to lull it’s audience into a nap with miscast dubbing and laboured storytelling.
I won’t lie. I kind of wished my list would have a Lindsay Lohan triple play. It would just make matters a bit more interesting with an added novelty. Unfortunately, I saw worse things than Paul Schrader’s confused drama The Canyons. Lohan does, however, make two appearances on my bottom ten.
So, without further wait, let’s take a look at the worst of the worst. Just remember filmmakers, this was a year where James Nguyen made a sequel to his unintentional cult hit Birdemic: Shock and Terror. Notice how I haven’t mentioned Birdemic 2: The Resurrection until now? Nguyen made a better movie than all of you. Think about that for a moment.
Overrated Movies:
The Broken Circle Breakdown
The Conjuring
Fast & Furious 6
Frozen
When Jews Were Funny
Dishonourable Mentions:
#15. Pain & Gain
#14. The Great Chameleon
#13. Jack the Giant Slayer
#12. The Pervert’s Guide to Ideology
#11. InRealLife
Wylie Writes’ Ten Worst Movies of 2013
Trying to piece together the film after watching it is a mission in itself. Trying to follow it as it unfolds on screen is damn near frustrating.
Nikola Curcin’s romance is unjustifiably cruddy and a cross between a travelogue and a family vacation home video circa 1992.
#8. Peeples
Peeples is an atom bomb of a comedy and one of the worst Tyler Perry productions movie goers have seen yet.
#7. Scary Movie 5
Scary Movie 5 is not a funny movie. I have a hard time justifying this rush job as “a movie”.
Getting a deservedly short theatrical run, The Frankenstein Theory is an uninspired and stupefyingly obvious play-by-play of 1999′s The Blair Witch Project.
#5. Fondi ’91
I feel embarrassed for Fondi ’91 and for all who were involved with its ill-fated production. This is a prime example of a movie that needed more rehearsals and more pre-production planning before heading into its slapdash shooting.
#4. After Earth
Hollow and wooden, with very little to latch on to. I can’t comprehend After Earth and I’ll never understand it.
#3. Grown Ups 2
Grown Ups 2 has a neanderthal brian. It’s another one of these movies where it eventually turns into the cinematic equivalent of Sandler looking at himself in the mirror and winking.
#2. Identity Thief
Identity Thief is a recipe for disaster – and the movie has no idea. Who thought it would be a good idea to generate laughs from an irksome, hoarding, annoying, selfish sociopath?
Infomercial spokesperson Vince Offer has somehow managed to weasel his racist tirade into cinemas for the world to endure. Or, for those masochists who boldly seek ways to stress out their patience. It’s a movie that makes you angry at everyone involved. It’s not bold or audacious- just terribly crass and stupid.
If Movie 43 is the worst movie you’ve seen all year, then you’re not ready for InAPPropriate Comedy. And, I say that because I care about you.
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‘Ten Worst Movies of 2013 ‘ Artwork by: Sonya Padovani
Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1
By: Addison Wylie
Lloyd Kaufman has proven with Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1 that you can go “back to the well” and resurrect a bawdy riot that was started more than two decades ago. The filmmaking ringmaster returns to Tromaville to continue the story of plagued teenagers who are slowly mutating due to exposure of toxic waste.
The nasty nuclear power plant (which was stationed beside the high school) has been torn down, and a corrupt food plant has taken its place. The food is littered with radioactivity and its no secret to those who provide it. When shown green glowing product, the boss of the factory (played by Kaufman) answers, “well, you wanted to go green, right?!”
Soon, the food is delivered to the high school and is scarfed down by the unruly students of Tromaville High School. The raw food mutates teenagers but takes a particular nauseating turn on the school’s glee club. The off-key nerdy musicians are given a bad ass makeover (including the removal of their tin ears) and become the film’s “Cretins”.
Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1 wishes to be a semi-remake of Troma’s schlocky classic, but Kaufman’s comedy has its wires crossed.
Tubs of radioactive slime dress shady sets in the film. Return to Nuke’ Em High is like the cinematic equivalent to one of these steaming containers. It’s disgustingly funny and over-the-top, its ickiness is enough to make you squirm, but its overstuffed zealousness causes a glaring mess.
I’ve enjoyed most of the Troma films I’ve seen, and I even go as far as to consider myself a fan. Lloyd Kaufman’s integrity as a filmmaker is admirable and the overall communal filmmaking process behind each movie displays how faithful these crews are to genre moviemaking.
The films that roll out of Troma have playful qualities to them and appear to be unaware as to how boorish their movie gets. The ragtag groups always have their heart in the right place – even if that means splattered on the floor squirting out countless bloody squibs.
When the films go too far, its those happy-go-lucky attitudes that save them from going down a dark hole. If these films are your cup o’ tea, all you can do is laugh along and shake your head. Either way, you’re having fun because the filmmakers don’t know any better. They’re too busy entertaining you in grotesque ways.
In the case of Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1, Kaufman and his bratty co-writers (Travis Campbell, Casey Clapp, Derek Dressler, and Aaron Hamel) know exactly how offensive they’re being. It’s this arrogance that causes friction between the film and the audience, hindering our ability to like the film as a whole for its original foolish appeal.
While the film starts with an incredibly strong collection of hilarious one-liners, slapstick, and sight gags, its the film’s politically incorrectness that gets in the way.
With Troma, no one is safe. If a current event or taboo crosses the film’s path, you can bet its getting wrung through Troma’s laugh factory. Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1, however, goes out of its way to make off-colour remarks and peabrain jokes about school shootings and controversial news headliners. The screenplay annoyingly tries to shoehorn too much “edginess” and it drifts Kaufman’s focus off of whatever film he wants to make.
The remake angle gets scrapped as new characters are being introduced. Luckily, each actor is playing their showboating roles well while knowing exactly what type of movie they’ve signed up for – which briefly distracts us from the problem. Clay von Carlowitz is hysterical as an insane, sexually pent up poser and our female leads (Chrissy played by Asta Paredes and Lauren played by Catherine Corcoran) know how to make their campiness captivating among the absurdity.
Paredes and Corcoran have scenes that endlessly carry on, unfortunately. For instance, the love scenes are stretched until the seams are showing. Kaufman’s the kind of director who – I’m sure – has meaning behind these prolonged scenes. It was as if I could faintly hear Lloyd explaining how Chrissy and Lauren are sharing intimacy as they discover themselves more. Look at it as Troma’s Nuclear Green is the Warmest Colour.
But, when these sensual scenes go on for too long, the meaning has less impact. We can see the floods of nudity and sex are there to be, well, just that.
Suddenly, the remake angle is picked back up as the movie’s final third approaches. And because this is the first volume in a needlessly complex two-part movie event, a lot of what the film pitches lands with an anticlimactic clunk. I would’ve much rather seen a cut with more discipline towards the expendable sexual content and the boundless supply of toilet humour.
When I say that the first third has an immaculately enjoyable rush, I really mean it. The wild portion contains everything I love about these wacky movies from a loyal team of favourable devotees. If Kaufman and company could’ve kept up those benign spirits, Return to Nuke ‘Em High Volume 1 could’ve easily been one of Troma’s best and an impressive comeback for the lo-fi studio. Instead, it’s passable with lively side-splitters peppered here and there.
I’m hoping that by going “back to the well”, Kaufman can also remember how fun movies can be when smug innuendoes and tastelessness don’t take the spotlight away from a film’s main components – an unhinged story with silly sincerity. Here’s hoping Volume 2 fares better.
August: Osage County
By: Addison Wylie
As far as films with an ensemble cast go, August: Osage County is among the best.
Its star studded line-up filled out by Meryl Streep, Julia Roberts, Ewan McGregor, Chris Cooper, Juliette Lewis (just to name a few) is enough to get movie goers in seats. What pays off even more are the exceptional performances during the constant sparring between these highly dysfunctional family members.
The Westons have a large family and appear to have it together from afar. To get a closer look at their nippy relationships would require Jeremy Renner’s cumbersome hurt locker suit. Streep takes over the role of uncensored Violet, and its her sniping attitude along with the heavy Southern heat that start the tension fuelled arguments.
As the family reunites to mourn the loss of one of their own, skeletons can’t help but fall out of the family’s individual closets. Secrets, brutal truths, and hidden motivations are revealed at a painstakingly uneasy roll out – all done on purpose with jet black humour and no signs of soapy qualities.
The revelations in August: Osage County are being adapted from the Pulitzer Prize winning play of the same name. It’s playwright Tracy Letts has written the film adaptation and filmmaker John Wells takes the directorial helm.
The audience doesn’t feel like we’re watching a straight copy of what theatre goers have already caught. Wells has given the film it’s own cinematic atmosphere while staying faithful to the bottled restraint of scenes featuring the family placed at one setting for a long duration.
The dinner table is where most of the airing out occurs, and the actors have been given pages of dialogue to memorize. Yet, this superbly written scene is one for the books as we’re slowly pulled into the distressing and occasionally funny tempers.
Wells doesn’t let the written work discourage his filmmaking abilities and he’s able to rise to the complicated adaptation. Some scenes are a little too literal with their meanings and character development, but it hardly steps over a line.
I did leave August: Osage County trying to figure out what the overall point of it all was. It’s unclear and scattershot as to what audiences are supposed to draw from it. Is it here to teach a lesson or is this Letts’ twisted idea of entertainment?
Either way, it’s a rare case where I wouldn’t mind revisiting this complicated family to figure it out. I wouldn’t mind at all. Given how unlikable these characters are, that’s rare for this critic.
It’s a statement towards how impressive the stacked cast is with this material as well as how the film’s sweltering and dusty locations have been utilized. Underneath it all is a group of artists painting a twisted portrait of kin who resist becoming their elders but can’t help falling into order anyways.
The Final Member
By: Addison Wylie
The Final Member – an outrageous documentary from filmmakers Jonah Bekor and Zach Math – is cheekily strange and hilariously honest. I half expected mockumentary legend Christopher Guest to come running out at any moment.
There’s no way this documentary about the world’s lone penis museum could be real. Fortunately, it is. And, don’t be surprised if this fascinating film becomes one of your favourite docs of the new year. Not since Justin McConnell’s Skull World have I enjoyed a documentary this much. And, not since Seth Gordon’s The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters has their been wilder competition captured in a movie.
The stage is set promptly introducing movie goers to Iceland’s Phallological Museum and its founder Sigurdur “Siggi” Hjartarson. The museum contains various genitalia from different specimens, but Hjartarson hasn’t been able to obtain one from a human.
Surprisingly, Siggi has two avid donors. There’s Pall, a womanizing elderly gentleman from Iceland. And then, there’s Tom, an obsessive American who is determined to get his piece in Siggi’s museum. Even if that means parting ways with his penis before death.
There are plenty of funnies with male private parts (including Siggi’s collection of crafted woodwork and Tom’s aspiring comic book involving a superhero schlong), but The Final Member is complimentary more than anything.
Siggi, Pall, and Tom are eccentric, but the directorial duo never make these guys out to be weird lunkheads who – in turn – make the audience nervous and embarrassed. The doc is lighthearted as it addresses why male genitalia is a taboo topic along with the competition Tom builds between himself and Pall.
It’s a documentary that supports its subjects quite well given their outlandish personas. Bekor and Math get firm and mature when their doc handles more sensitive matter like the the complexes of growing old and meeting life’s inevitable deadline. Pall, in particular, is witnessing how certain parts diminish over time; bringing this very open individual into a shy state of self-awareness.
Tom, on the other hand, has a constant need for attention and is willing to go any distance to get what he wants. Although his lengths reach nutty heights, he witnesses how his upfront personality can weigh on another’s patience.
The Final Member is a sweet film that always finds a way to make you laugh. The jokes involving the main men never feel as of we’re laughing at them or any of their misfortunes. Tom’s quest for popularity is the closest anyone will come close at giggling at someone’s hobbies, but there’s a certain admittance that Tom comprehends as he welcomes the viewer into his jaunty diligence. It’s unavoidable coming from a guy who dresses his junk up as a Viking and Abraham Lincoln for a chuckle.
Anyone who labels this film as a doc that’s simply here to bare all and offer trivial information about a quirky tourist attraction is all wrong. It takes a hairy premise that will attract any movie goer’s curiosity and performs better than anyone expects. It has a loveable heart, a fantastic sense of humour, and will have you curled over for multiple reasons – especially the men who will either be laughing or wincing.
Linsanity
By: Addison Wylie
Basketball superstar Jeremy Lin had a rise to fame that was the epitome of an underdog story.
Having set aspirations to become an athlete someday, Lin rarely winced when faced with challenges. He played basketball because he enjoyed it, planted reasonable expectations while cementing his priorities, and gained notoriety by naturally being a talented player.
Evan Jackson Leong’s uplifting doc doesn’t phonily paint Lin as such an upstanding individual. He simply comes off that way all while obtaining a deadpan presence.
Despite being more than qualified to be a lucrative addition to any team, many saw Jeremy Lin’s Asian-American background as a set back. According to Lin and interviewed observers, race still plays a big part regarding who gets chosen first when leaders are picking teams.
When race is focused on in Linsanity, it gives the viewer a look through Lin’s perspective. He may appear stonewalled and have developed an immunity to the disrespect over the years, but that disappointment from Lin, among others, rings throughout the doc. It’s an issue that’s not brushed aside quickly, and is actually touched upon later in the film as Leong focuses on the acquired media attention surrounding “Linsanity”.
It doesn’t feel like the filmmaker is beating a dead horse by revisiting race disputes. It can be argued that a couple of the examples Leong uses could’ve been misguided word choices by news anchors and lame attempts at humour from television writers, but the filmmaker’s point about lingering racism still vitally stands.
Another topic that is momentarily touched upon is religion. Jeremy is open about how he thinks a higher power helped him achieve goals and fight through rocky battles. Movie goers who think differently than Lin will have to bite their tongues during these genuine instances, but it’s not enough to drive any non-believers away.
Linsanity can often resemble an ESPN special presentation. It carries a kinetic pace and Leong loads his film with lots of in-game footage. That zest, however, is fitting given the subject matter. Could Linsanity play just as well on TV? Perhaps. But, Leong has also done a great job with providing a cinematic atmosphere to the biography. He realizes that this big guy (both figurative and literally) deserves a sizeable retelling, and it pays off.
It’s a film that doesn’t know how to start or end, however. Leong begins with a climactic point in Lin’s career and then takes us back through his story. Then, uneasy and unnecessary narration enters.
Hawaii Five-O’s Daniel Dae Kim has been brought on to lend his voice to guide viewers using Aaron Strongoni’s overworked writing. If Leong had ditched the corny narration along with passages that are supposed to add more inspiring gusto, the film wouldn’t have felt as if it were missing pieces. This doc doesn’t need Kim and Strongoni reminding movie goers just how incredible Lin’s story is.
The ending involves the film building up to a breaking point using Psy’s always energetic Gangnam Style set to various “Linsane” pop culture instances. Right as the film has set itself up to end on a high note, it keeps going. The additional information Leong offers is essential, but it shouldn’t feel tacked on after such an effective finisher.
What matters most though is the meaty middle that informs audiences about Jeremy Lin. It does so delightfully, and audiences walk away feeling elated and in awe.
Linsanity has the right stuff and deserves to be one of your top picks if you’re looking for something to check out this weekend.
American Hustle
By: Addison Wylie
American Hustle is like watching a group of distinguished hard boiled card players play poker when you’re only learning the ropes. None of them will break their deadpan expression or expose their hand. Suddenly, someone will make a game changing move and raise the stakes. Someone to your left leans over and – with pure exuberance – tells you how important the move was. Meanwhile, you nod with acknowledgment and when they’re not looking, you check the time.
I think American Hustle looks great. Director David O. Russell has done a standout job providing the essential period detail to late 70’s/early 80’s America. The film sounds wonderful, providing plenty of great tracks from the era and using them to add to a scene instead of milking them for novelty sake.
These characters are by no means distinguished. They’re crooked, sly, and slick with their work. Each performer does an awesome job at building perpetual charisma with the equipped ensemble.
An overweight Bale, playing a top-of-the-game con man, grabs us with his corny combover and his anxiety ridden personality; suggesting Irving Rosenfeld is always sweaty and on his toes. He not only physically embodies Rosenfeld, but emotionally as well.
Rosenfeld’s relationship with Amy Adams’ Sydney Prosser is unstoppably watchable. The two click incredibly and ignite the screen with their warped admiration for each other. Russell has a knack for excelling with these sort of oddball romances. He proved this with Silver Linings Playbook, and it’s no different with American Hustle.
Jennifer Lawrence and Bradley Cooper reunite and play their roles just as well as Bale and Adams. It’s debatable whether or not Lawrence could’ve gotten away with more screen time, but the amount she’s been dealt is handled with every bit of hutzpah the actress seems to be getting better and better with as her career shoots onward. Cooper, an adamant FBI agent, is super too as he treats the audience to a twitchy performance that takes him from different statures in a blink of an eye.
I wish I had liked the actual movie in which all these great ingredients are mixed up into. Russell and Eric Warren Singer’s convoluted screenplay is overzealous and piles on too many cons, blackmails, and double crosses. The comedy is supposed to stem out of these dishonest situations as people have to constantly adjust and act on their defensiveness. Personally, I felt the whole ordeal kept getting more unlikeable as these colourful characters fell deeper into their own plots.
The only somewhat sensible character is the “mark” involved with the film’s central scheme, Mayor Carmine Polito (played by Jeremy Renner). But, no movie goer is going to want to settle with the putz who is targeted throughout the movie. We want to know more about the unusual folks. Unfortunately, their loudness can dance close to being overbearing during all their exclaimed explanations and motions Russell has them going through.
American Hustle has been picking up all sorts of awards for its technical achievements and for its addictive performances – those areas all deserve the accolades. But, convincing one to claim David O. Russell’s crime movie as a flawless feat is the ultimate con.
Berberian Sound Studio
By: Addison Wylie
Berberian Sound Studio didn’t frighten me. It didn’t creep, weird, or freak me out either. I didn’t get any sort of shivers out of the experience nor did I get any heebies or jeebies.
If Peter Strickland’s film is anything, it’s mildly unsettling. It smartly pleads the case that our imaginations can provide strokes of detail if a film supplies the foundation for which our thoughts are built on. It’s absolutely true and some results in Berberian Sound Studio will make your stomach heave, but those moments are far and few between.
Berberian Sound Studio is a film made for people who love movies. Toby Jones plays Gilderoy, a sound engineer asked to work on an Italian film’s post-production. Foley sound effects need to be recorded, ADR needs some shaping up, and Gilderoy is up for the task. That is, before he finds out what the movie is all about.
Gilderoy figures out that the movie he’s been asked to work on titled The Equestrian Vortex is a horror. Although, the film’s director begs to differ. He, along with the movie’s producer, pressure him to keep doing his job – even though Gilderoy is heavily disturbed with what he’s seeing on screen. The distress gets worse when he has to provide the sounds for the horrific acts being portrayed. But, he’s pushed forward and kept quiet. A studio sign that flashes the word “Silenzio” says it all.
Even though the scenes we don’t see are semi-graphically described, the foley sessions are still fascinating to watch. A silent pairing named Massimo and Massimo steal every scene they’re in as they represent different types of violence and torture with household items and foods.
However, whereas Gilderoy is pushed towards the grotesque nature, Strickland’s film moves at such a slow rate that it ends up pushing movie goers away. The film asks for too much patience as these imaginative scenes are essentially repeated, sucking any sort of interest out of these characters and this story.
The film is nice to look at. Strickland has done his period homework and assembled all sorts of vintage equipment. Also, Berberian Sound Studio never overplays its atmospheric moodiness – a huge plus.
But then, “it” really hits the fan. There’s no better way of describing the film’s nightmarish tendencies other than saying that reality soon blends into Gilderoy’s work and psyche. Strickland inserts lots of loopy surreal activity that would be considered a picnic to David Lynch. We’re constantly reminded of Lynch’s work during these more bewildering sequences.
As much as Strickland is trying to involve audiences with his hauntingly trippy movie by offering puzzles to the equation, he’s drove us away from the action for too long. It makes matters very difficult for movie goers to get back into the swing of a film that we’ve gradually grown disinterested in.
My carelessness was akin to being rudely awakened in the middle of the night. You snap awake and sort of realize what’s going on. While 20% of your mind and body is comprehending what happened, the other 80% would rather go back to bed.
But, hey, at least if you do doze off during Berberian Sound Studio, you can expect Massimo and Massimo to throw an eggplant at the ground to wake you up.
Thursday Till Sunday
By: Addison Wylie
Dominga Sotomayor Castillo has been collecting accolades for her directorial debut Thursday Till Sunday. Her young female lead – 11 year old Santi Ahumada – has also been earning her fair share of praise for her innocent performance.
However, I regret to inform Castillo and Ahumada that they won’t be earning any applause on the Wylie Writes front because Castillo’s filmmaking has serious issues and Ahumada’s performance – following similar footsteps as last year’s Oscar nominee Quvenzhané Wallis – is cute but luckily effortless considering her inexperience as an actress, making it hard to reward her.
When watching Thursday Till Sunday, I was reminded often of Igor Drljaca’s directorial debut Krivina, a small film that played at last year’s TIFF and earlier this year during a blink-or-you’ll-miss-it run at Toronto’s Royal theatre. Both films are minimalist endeavours and move at an unbearable speed. However, Drljaca was able to halfway support his choice for moving the film at such a slow pace with a compelling, game changing twist.
Castillo has her film take place during a monotonous family road trip with a large chunk of her story taking place inside a station wagon as it passes washed out scenery. The comparison to Wallis’ portrayal as the energetic Hushpuppy in the crowd pleasing Beasts of the Southern Wild is even more apparent as we see what this lifeless road trip is like through a child’s eyes.
The vehicle stops periodically, the family gets out to look around, and then they get back into their station wagon and cruise along the empty roads. It isn’t a very exciting trip to an adult, so imagine how that’s going to look through a youngster’s point-of-view. Castillo wants her audience to settle in the authenticity of “the typical family road trip” – which I suppose she does well since there’s plenty of boredom to go around. But, she forgets about her audience and the difference between interesting everyday details and what’s useless time filler.
Some of the scenes take place in unedited takes, which allows Castillo to grab every single realistic moment during mundane activities. Again, she succeeds, but how much enjoyment does the audience get out of watching Dad detailedly pack up the family car? How about twice? The only possible way the writer/director could’ve gotten away with these slices of life is if she at least cut to other angles.
The film is trying to say something about the slow descent of a once happy family. Ahumada’s Lucía occasionally sees her parents argue in the distance or exchange frustrated looks whilst on their vacation. However, these situations are set up with Castillo never saying anything sufficiently sustainable about crumbling marriages or the effect these rough spots have on their onlooking, observant children. These confrontations just – kind of – happen while Lucía stares with a blank look.
Santi Ahumada may capture the naïvety of her older sister role, but that’s mainly because the role doesn’t call for much other than for Ahumada to act her age. I would’ve appreciated if Castillo added more personality to Lucía and walked her through the role, allowing the newbie to create more of an on-screen presence. It would’ve definitely made her stand out more and separated her from any other child actor that could’ve played this role.
But, the feather-light Thursday Till Sunday does stand out in some way. Out of all the films I’ve seen in 2013 so far, Thursday Till Sunday is that one movie I had the hardest time staying tuned in to. I try my hardest not to check my watch during a movie, but I was consistently doing that during Castillo’s supremely slow and dull debut.
At least with a real life road trip, you could at least stop off at a McDonalds for a large Coke and have a quick nap in the parking lot. Thursday Till Sunday only delivers on the nap.
The Master
By: Addison Wylie
The power of suggestion is afoot in The Master. Not just in the film itself, but it surrounded the film’s promotion and lead-up to its theatrical release.
With the mention of a cult and a leader confidently guiding followers through his “rational thinking and cleansing”, many linked Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest to Scientology and to L. Ron Hubbard, the creator of the infamous religion. It struck controversy around the film and the suggestion of it piqued a lot of interest. Especially since PTA directed Tom Cruise, a devoted Scientologist, in the 1999 flick Magnolia.
Those going into The Master wanting a sharp send-up to the much talked about religion and its followers have another thing coming – because the film isn’t interested in satire.
Through his career, PTA has never been a satirist but rather a filmmaker who is inspired and takes those ideas and formulates them into something of his own.
Take Boogie Nights. Porn Star John Holmes was a “big” inspiration crafting Mark Wahlberg’s Dirk Digger.
Adam Sandler’s motif to buy oodles and oodles of pudding in order to garner an extreme amount of frequent flyer miles in Punch-Drunk Love was inspired by David Phillips’ encounter with a faulty Healthy Choice Foods promotion in 1999.
PTA isn’t parodying L. Ron Hubbard but rather ideas of the Scientologist have inspired the filmmaker. Hubbard was a man who was dedicated to his craft and practices and knew how to confidently fulfill people with hope and ideas – even if his ways didn’t sit well with others.
What movie goers will get when they watch The Master is an absolutely fascinating character struggle between two different hard-wired minds in an ultimate case of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
Joaquin Phoenix plays Freddie Quell, a disturbed individual returning from World War II and trying to figure out where he fits in. The only noteworthy characteristics he has are that he’s a talented photographer and has a keen taste for alcohol. He, unfortunately, lets the latter take control of him which causes him to spiral out of control and cause public chaos.
He soon meets Lancaster Dodd (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) on a boat after he sneaks on it, using it as a way to figure out his next destination. Dodd likes the cut of Freddie’s jib after he tastes the alcoholic mixture Freddie has conjured up.
The friendship the two begin is an odd one. Freddie sees Lancaster’s profession and his large following as something he could latch onto in order to help him find a proper existence. Lancaster sees Freddie as another follower – an ill-tempered one at that – but knows that Freddie – although a drunk – is sharp.
With Freddie’s desperation and Lancaster’s ability to be compassionate, confident, and controlling, the two go hand-in-hand. It’s suggested to Freddie that he’s found a good place to be and in good company.
There are doubters to Dodd’s theories and Freddie makes sure they’re taken care of in order to keep his place at the Dodd residence. Throughout The Master, it’s suggested that Freddie may be starting to see the seams in Dodd’s thinking. However, these violent outbursts and the silencing of those who are skeptical keep that innocence alive and the fear of being a drifter once again diminished.
We also feel for Hoffman’s Dodd as he strains to keep the continuity straight amongst his theories. He constantly has to please his people and we feel that stress build and build.
Phoenix and Hoffman are outstanding in roles that require them to do a lot of heavy lifting. With subtle changes to character always in effect and a smart script that has the two quietly going head-to-head with each other, the two actors have succeeded marvellously.
It’s fair to say the film is disjointed – it does have that feeling. For instance, when Dodd has a run-in with the law, it seems like it’s an issue that is taken care of fast. However, The Master has a script that is fixated on driving the film forward, even if that means not giving every single event that happens in the film a lot of time to be focused on.
Surprisingly, it works here. Anderson has a clear vision as to where to take his characters and how to tell the story. If something’s been seemingly glossed over, it’s because not much more detail is required without making it feel needlessly extended. Or, it’s been wisely left open for interpretation. Anderson realizes he has a talky drama on his hands and is interested in progression instead of pulling his film over.
On the technical front, the film looks and sounds fantastic. Mihai Malaimare Jr. has demonstrated that cinematography is an art form, especially with those old-thyme photo shoots. Jonny Greenwood’s score fits the film like a glove; it’s subtle but adds a magically disorienting nuance.
The Master is very character driven and dialogue heavy, which again, may drive away those movie goers expecting something else. If you think you have the patience for a drama such as this one, you’ll be happily rewarded in the end. This is a meticulously crafted film that is strong in every aspect. Surely one of the year’s best.
Wylie Writes 