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Reviews
The Frozen Ground (2013)
Never Waste a Good Opportunity to Propagandize
"Thanksgiving here!" commands the clean-cut family man after saying grace at the dinner table with the terrified wife, clueless children, and cross-stitched "The Lord Is My Shepherd / I Shall Not Want" prayer on the wall. The true-story storytellers of this thing sure knows some pretty intimate if not politically useful details! Nothing this detailed is in Wikipedia, if one cares to check, but since the real perpetrator's middle name was Christian and he was a United Statesian, perhaps this is what inspires all the likely embellishments, but methinks there might have been other motivations afoot in the good ol' US of A at the time of the screenplay's writing, if not still.
Notwithstanding, the movie plods along with lots ominous music, a gallon of real tears from the helpful, sassy victim prostitute with a sad backstory and a heart of gold guarded with the ferocity of a dog.
Nicholas Cage earns his money doing his job. He's a darn fine slogger of an actor, delivering a solid performance nearly every film. He shows up, does his job, gets his paycheck, and moves on to the next script, and like Nicholas just doing his job and reading his lines, this movie script itself sure reads from a greater script and is just doing its job.
Ancient Apocalypse (2021)
Archeogeologicalmythology
I had fun binge watching this series. The clear antagonists here are archeologists, and though I hadn't followed the drama between the creator, Hancock, and them, it's pretty clear they have ticked him off royally. I found myself being drawn into his antipathy, especially when he was barred from visiting the mound site in Ohio. I also found that dismissing myths of cultures from being factors when formulating hypotheses regarding dig sites within the cultures from which those very myths originate to be an odd, odd choice. What a very odd omission. Literary criticism can incorporate all manner of help extrinsic to the texts in question via New Historicism and such, so it seems that at least considering other disciplines, especially hard sciences such as astronomy (not to mention ancient myths) could be a benefit.
Eventually I began to tire of the archeological villainy, but that could be due to the binging. Perhaps the scientific community could be less cold shouldered. It wouldn't be the first time it has been (or in this case might be) wrong. See Louis Pasteur, John Snow, John Leal, et al.
As someone who has learned about ancient cultures in public education social studies forever, over and over and over, it never made sense that such immense advances hobbled half-frozen out of the ice-age in furs and suddenly into history. The notion that an advanced civilization may have germinated a second post-ice-age civilization actually makes a lot more sense. Sorry. Too many pyramids. Too much obsession with stargazing. Too many similarities between myths: all between ancient cultures that would have had no clue what other cultures on another continents were up to. Fertile crescent explanations always seemed insufficient.
Hancock is clever and thoughtful and energetic enough to have won my admiration. He has weaved a compelling (man, I hate this word lately) "narrative" to neatly sum up much of what we in the public schools have been learning in smattered doses for ages. And to his credit, he did not suggest aliens or lizards or giants, so this graceful and articulate essay feels consistent and cogent. I hope he inspires young archaeologists to keep exploring and to also be amenable to integrating other sources than what's in the dirt. I do not feel like Hancock is archeology's Castaneda, as he seems to be regarded. He's a bit more on the great big ol' icy ball than that.
Circle (2015)
I'll Watch It Again for the Following Reasons
I'm still trying to work out two factors. This is my fourth or fifth time watching this maze of a film with its one exit.
Equal but opposite forces advance "Winner" to the exit at the end. In the end, Winner's face (in the round we witness, as there are many happening simultaneously, like alien polling centers in the sky) is lit red then blue. This likely symbolizes the two major US political parties associated with these colors. Both are vying to win, as we well know, and Winner embodies both (Freeze frame. You'll see the colors.)
For me, the two unclear factors are the following:
1) Is every vote cast from the pregnant woman equal to two? If not, then why is the unborn baby highlighted in the tie? Either this is a factor or an oversight.
2) Does everyone truly not vote? Silent Man is the only person we can know for certain that does not vote. To ruin unanimity only requires one defector. When all agree to abstain, this leaves incredible advantage to the defector. Game Theory at its finest.
I may watch it again with this in mind. It's a good puzzle of a movie for an uneventful evening. In the end, the psychopath wins. But is this inevitable? We may never learn if it is inevitable if we do not know that everyone truly did not vote, as it is likely that he never abstained.
So in essence, psychopaths ensure their own survival, and most others help them along, feeling forced into their psychopathy because psychopaths may never allow us to truly get rid of them. Silent Man would not vote to be rid of them, and only one psychopath is needed to clog up the proverbial works, which then foists a cascade of ugly choices upon everyone, turning everyone so desperate that everyone fails to realize what Silent Man knows. Don't play. But if one does not play, psychopaths persist. Like a human system of government, they make themselves necessary.
But maybe Silent Man believes as the good book says, that the Saints will judge the earth, not man.
Anyway... it's a theory.
Snowpiercer (2013)
All Aboard the Boring Allegory
When I feel like the world owes me something, I like to feel sorry for myself and angry at others. I like to write stories that reflect the rage of my own insufferable insufficiencies and to lash out at every perceived injustice until my breaking heart cries out at the languishing deep pain. Then when it's all too much and my crystalline and pure heart is about to break, I like to heroically rise to meet my oppressors and to plunge their reckless injustice into their hearts like a wooden stake into the core of their vampiric nastiness. And then I feel better about the world and my place in it. Vindicated. Complete. But on a train. In the winter. God, this film makes me nauseous. This and practically every modern film made. Lord help us out of this. We need a hero. I feel so sorry for myself.
Little Murders (1971)
Settles into a Groove
I was reminded of Eraserhead a bit. I was expecting Little Murders to wander around aimlessly for its duration, but it eventually settled into its theme. The other reviews here are worth reading, so this one won't be a repeat. So in the spirit of simply adding to the others, I'll start by stating that I find myself speculating on the notion of God. To wit, when the female lead is randomly (or perhaps jealously) executed, it comes on the heels of the main character's admission of worshiping her--really the climax of her efforts to mold him. Except, she must have forgotten that God does not condone the worship of false idols, insofar as the matron-led religion will have it. And since God is rebuked from the marriage ceremony, this little murder feels like an act of divine vengeance. The main character then resolves his initial shortcomings--an inability to feel and an inability to fight--and recklessly joins the family, capitulating to the urge to kill only to gorge himself at the dinner table. Mother-in-law is pleased, and the film ends. It's a strange film, rife with considerations about the role of the police, NYC, Jews and Christians and pagans (see the church of the wedding ceremony) the 2nd Amendment, homosexuality, and the like--many questions that are still a part of daily American life.
Unhinged (2020)
A Decent Attempt at McCarthy-esque "Violence and Retribution"
It would seem that the principal persons involved with this movie may have read some Cormac McCarthy and have appreciation of history as well. Violence precedes this age and will not go quietly into that good night. The film also has some agendas, supported by lines and situations such as "isn't that the place with the killer brisket"--the chilly response to the brutal video being aired, even though his mirror neurons fired as he massaged the spot on his very own neck into which the butter knife had been plunged into the other's--all made by the insensitive, stoned meat eater in whose room hangs a cheap band poster with the homophone band name for genocide. Understanding this incompetent, twisted, out-of-touch defender who can't remember the crucial distinction between girlfriend and fiancé and whose name is the mother of Jesus is critical to understanding the culture from which the protagonist emerges: one that is entitled, unaware, passive aggressive, indirectly harmful. Whether or not this is actually the case in the U. S. now is subject to debate; however, that's what's being suggested here. And in the midst of this shifting culture is the villain--the embodiment of nature's rage, once an alpha member of the majority class in the U. S., now feeling beaten down and marginalized. But the same rage that was able to sweep westward is alive and well. But what the movie has no mandate to portray is that this rage is and always has been alive and well in everyone. Cormac McCarthy asked once, who will absorb the last blow? Who among us can absorb and make final that blow? It's a decent movie with marginally good actors and one giant, talented SOB.
Hail, Caesar! (2016)
Complicatedly Simple and Simply Complicated
The principle motif is a passion play of relentless opposites unified. Here's a random assortment I noticed:
Man is split, as defined by the communists. And in pursuit of his own financial gain, he increases the dialectic, i.e., the split, the opposing forces. God is split, between Jesus (son) and God. The same God is split yet again, between Christian and Jewish belief. The main character, Eddie, is split between two theaters: the theater of war (as offered by a job with Lockheed) and the theater of Capitol. Capital/capitol itself is split as a homophone. The two major superpowers, US and Russia are split between their respective ideologies: communism and capitalism. The means of production is criticized as being parasitic and lazy, when in fact we watch the main character toiling endlessly. He, though not the studio machines themselves, is a means of production. That is, without his efforts, there would be no progress. So, his function is mechanical though he is not a machine. Each studio is a community unto itself: all workers' combined efforts produce the product. This is the unification of capitalism and community (i.e., communism). God is united as Son and Father. Theater is united as both definitions mentioned above. The pregnant mermaid when pursuing to separate (split) from her child is instead united with her child by an unexpected marriage to the professional "person." Lawrence Laurentz is a perfect duality of both unity of name and division, i.e., each name is pronounced differently, which troubles the simple cowboy, who himself, later, proves to be the wisest and eventual confidant of the manager by correctly identifying who the kidnappers may have been: the extras. Not such a simpleton after all. The communists need cash. Though they outwardly resist appearing slave to cash, when it is lost in the ocean all of them whimper a bit as the $100,000 sinks pointlessly to the bottom of the sea. Outwardly they deny needing it and maintain stoic, detached appearances; inwardly they suffer loss as it sinks. At the feet of the Christ, the Roman soldier is made equal with the slaves whom he had just shouldered aside, commanding "Romans before Slaves!" He is thus separate but equal. When the final climactic speech is delivered and the take is ruined by the forgotten word "faith," the remembrance of which becomes a moment of private realization, though up to that moment, the delivery of the lines was a public moment of unity as the stage personnel one by one begin to pay attention to his impassioned delivery. We watch him digest the import, we see him moved deeply, only to cavort back into superficiality and separation from the action, for after all he is just an actor. Who can miss the halved statue of man, larger than life, split at the center, idle in the studio yard? Even the journalists are divided yet are the same. Each panders to a enquiring readership who thirst for studio gossip, though each regards herself as unique and unlike her rival. They are the same and they are not. The film editor clearly would not like to choke herself, though her scarf nearly does. It takes reverse, the opposite of forward, to free her. And as soon as she is free, she fills her lungs with cigarette smoke. She doesn't want to choke; she chokes on smokes: her oxygen supply is reduced either way. The villainous, communist writers are gentle, polite and tame. The number of unity of contradictions impressive. "Would that it were so simple" is complicated. "It's complicated" is simple.