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The Lion King (1994)
A masterpiece in its own right
It irks me to see the internet claim that The Lion King is simply a children's retelling of Hamlet, as if this is some kind of incredulous revelation. The framework of the story does follow along with the Shakespeare classic, but while Hamlet has deep and complex themes of its own, to ignore The Lion King's different, own themes and symbolism is to miss the artistic brilliance of the movie as a separate masterpiece in its own right.
Firstly, The Lion King brings a musical magnificence and visual majesty that stands on its own as a work of pure art. Let's establish that off the bat, because those elements put the film on a pedestal that naysayers have no position to degrade.
But I feel that The Lion King's story is rich and meaningful well beyond a simply movie geared for children. The story is about becoming, it explores self-discovery and reaching your potential. Simba is a symbol of any one of us: we make mistakes, we stray from our heritage as kings and queens, we succumb to the distractions of the world, but ultimately we are meant to take up the mantle of greatness, become the hero that lives inside each one of us and defeat our past traumas and inner demons. When viewed through this lens, it's hard not to mention the connections to Christianity as well. But Christian or not- these themes are universal. Searching for meaning and direction, aspiring for greatness. Living in the light. Rather than destruction, creating connections and unifying to help elevate one another. Coming to terms with the Circle of Life and understanding our place in it. Creation, life.
There are a lot of elements that are highlighted in this film's story that are just simply different from what Hamlet explores and focuses on, I feel like the resemblances are mostly surface level. In the end, The Lion King in my mind stands above any of its contemporaries and should be given the recognition for its artistic depth that it deserves.
Field of Dreams (1989)
Not just a great baseball movie
A film that will forever be mentioned in discussions about "greatest baseball movies," I feel that Field of Dreams can be overlooked as being an all-around good movie, period. As a big baseball fan myself, I am admittedly a little biased to the argument, of course. But I feel that Field of Dreams is not merely a baseball flick; it's a story about the pursuit of dreams- of life and relationships and fulfillment- with baseball used symbolically and as a vehicle for the deeper themes.
The movie follows the journey of its characters (living and dead) as they search to find closure on their unfulfilled desires of the past. As eloquently orated by James Earl Jones' character, baseball represents the nostalgia of simpler times, where outside cares are wiped away and everything is in its ideal state. In their own ways, this is what each of the characters are searching for: the opportunity to leave behind regrets and unfinished hopes, and to find peace in the things that gives them fulfillment.
So often, people think that heaven is some far off place beyond our comprehension. But as Shoeless Joe and Ray ponder, they realize that maybe heaven can be right in front of us. It can be where we feel in our bones that we belong, such as on a baseball field. It can be in the homes with our families. It can be at the times we share with those who matter the most, even if it takes resolving fragmented relationships. It can be today, if we seize the opportunities and live life to the fullest. All it takes is a fierce belief in making our heaven our own, regardless of what other people think about it.
La La Land (2016)
Brilliance
This review is admittedly a few years late, haha. But I am drawn back to share my thoughts on what I feel is a masterpiece in cinema. I am altogether in awe of its true brilliance, for a number of reasons.
Firstly, I am admittedly a big fan of classic Hollywood cinema. Instead of relying on today's advances in sound, color, and many other highly advanced technical qualities, the past instead painted its beauty through artistic simplicity, where different kind of performance talents were honed and at the forefront. Through limitations, those musicals and romances of the day expressed a certain innocence, elegance and charm that connects to some of our innermost hopes and desires. Anyone who has enjoyed the likes of Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert in It Happened One Night, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in Top Hat, and Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds in Singin' in the Rain, surely laments nostalgically that such movies are confined to days gone past.
How tremendous then, that Damien Chazelle and the rest of the La La Land production would take that vintage Hollywood romantic musical- truly capture the essence of it- and pull it into the modern age. To attempt to couple the best of both worlds, taking the best of the old and have it "grow up" in blending it with the new. Retaining the feeling, flow, and showmanship of the past but making it relevant and consumable for today's audiences.
And it's incredible that in that way, it hit the nail on its head. But what is a greater, more brilliant piece of filmmaking is how that concept provides the basis for La La Land's plot and themes.
The blend of the vintage and the modern is interwoven so seamlessly that it can express the basic and enduring themes of classic Hollywood- of hopes, dreams, and the search for love- while also allowing the screenplay to develop themes of more significant emotional maturity. All the while, it allows viewers to reach their own conclusions, without persuading towards a particular viewpoint or disrespecting one's personal perspective.
It is okay to dislike the way the ending turns out! But it should be appreciated at the very least. Along with the nuanced dichotomy that the movie presents between the ideal fantasy of the vintage and the mature reality of the modern, one of the major themes the movie confronts is our need to make difficult choices, and that sometimes those choices present much different opportunities to find fulfillment and happiness. So it's saying, "choose the ending that you really desire the most. Don't let your dreams pass you by!"
Keep in mind, that these and other valuable themes would be entirely overlooked and undercut, of course, had the ending been clean and easy. To suggest that it take the easy way out is to relegate the movie as another fluffy love story. Which, there's nothing inherently wrong with, if that was what the film was going for. But that story has already been told in Hollywood time and time again over the past century, and La La Land sets its sights higher than simply being a replication of an already-told fable, it's the delicate mix of the both halves of classic ideality and modern reality that sets it apart. It extends itself as more than just an entertainment piece, and instead as a work of art- one that makes you both feel and introspect. Therefore, the notion that it should embrace the stereotypical "happy ending" undersells the actual brilliance of the entirety of the movie, because if it weren't to finish its thoughts and fulfill its themes to the end, then it would hollow out and retract everything the movie had been building towards to that point. It is the ending that allows the rest of the film be seen in its proper context, if the viewer is willing to do so.
The Unforgiven (1960)
Fascinatingly disastrous, a must watch!
I am absolutely dumbfounded by this movie! My mind is buzzing just thinking about how contradicting it is in its entirety. It is absolutely hilarious to me that this was a finished product for what was originally supposed to be a significant picture. It seems that John Huston set out to make one movie and the studio wanted another, and the resulting mixture of the two is absolutely off the wall! The thing is simultaneously both fascinating and baffling in so many ways.
1. Audrey Hepburn's magnetizing charm cast into a role that is comically preposterous for her. She is justifiably one of the main reasons I chose to watch this movie in the first place, and I absolutely loved her proper elocution being mixed with an attempt at a slight southern twang- when her character was supposed to have been raised on the frontier her entire life, ha! I never would have anticipated that hearing her unjokingly say "ain't" would be so funny. And then obviously the twist of her character's actual heritage is pure comedy.
2. The characters are such absurd caricatures, yet they portray it as though they're supposed to be believably serious. Two main families meet up for a meal and it is the most outrageous sequence, it has me laughing just thinking back on the entire scene of them jumping instantaneously from their fanatical racism dialogue -> to candidly trying to figure out who should marry who -> to gravely interrogating the mother about the Sword of God guy -> to her changing the subject by jumping on the piano and everyone immediately jumping up and dancing. And the one guy coming across the camera with the jaw harp, brilliant! I realize that there are some such moments of purposeful lightheartedness, but as a whole, the movie is played straight and serious, yet the writing of the characters is completely absurd. And don't get me started on Audrey and Burt Lancaster deciding to get married! Audrey initially being like "Everyone would tell you I'm basically blood!" and then a few days later she's like, "Well... I know we were raised as siblings since I was born, but we're not technically blood..." Speechless!
3. The exposition is brilliant, it lays a curiously intriguing plot foundation but ends up making way for a basic shoot-up-the-Indians ending that leaves you scratching your head. The first half is very fun; partly spooky, partly hilarious. The characters are so wacky, it's hard to know whether you're supposed to take them seriously. The Sword of God creep is such an intriguing plot element. Is he the Angel of Death or is he a creepy old pervert? That he just turns out to mostly just be a loon rather than someone of a supernatural nature was such a disappointment. It would have made for such a better movie if it had just went in that direction of them having to navigate facing the wrath of God's justice; it glanced off that surface and landed flat into a simple shootout instead.
4. The blatant tropes of the ending gunfights are amusingly disrespectful to the Native American characters. I'm hesitant to call it "funny," but the astonishingly brain-dead way they're written is eye-rollingly cartoonish. The Kiowas deciding to attack the house by just riding in front of it -> getting a bunch of their men shot -> then retreating -> just to do the same thing over again, repeatedly! The brilliant strategic move of the Zacharys to play the piano because obviously the Kiowas were going to be able to hear it over the hill, over the sound of their own instruments, and feel the impulsive primal need to go destroy the piano at the expense of their lives. Then setting their own house on fire and not being smoked out themselves, just minimal damage to their impenetrable fortress. And of course, the brother Cash coming in to fight at the end and singlehandedly being able to fight off the Kiowas out in the open. You know, because apparently a single white person is worth about 30 "injuns" after all...
5. I am honestly flabbergasted at the messaging of it all! The movie itself treats the Native Americans as expendable, right? It doesn't matter in the slightest for them to get massacred- it is altogether justified because it serves to benefit the wellbeing of the white characters. The only Native American character that is given any consideration is maybe the biological brother that Audrey shoots in the end for some reason. She decides to kill her biological brother and marry her adoptive brother (?!) and they all just come outside after slaughtering the good guys and they just look up at the birds and smile (remember, because "birds are human too!"). The birds are more human than the Native Americans, right? Is that the takeaway? Is that what Audrey Hepburn's character believes? Is the film actually saying that the Zacharys are the bad guys? Because obviously they were- but the way they're all relieved and happy and it zooms out and the music triumphantly crescendos into "The End" really doesn't make it feel like there was any remorse for these heels, just that they won so the audience should leave happy knowing that Audrey doesn't have to go live with the "savages."
No, this is clearly a case where the movie was originally intended to say one thing, and the studio willed it to go in a completely different direction, resulting in a completely contradictory finale. It brings up the subject of race relations- it's a theme purposefully interwoven throughout, no doubt- and then by the end it hypocritically rejects that groundwork for the sake of a happy ending for the "protagonists." In a modern-day perspective, that's quite the work of art in itself, I'd say. But looking through the lens of the film as it was released, it is a paradoxical mess. You know, people love examining all that went wrong in critical disasters like "The Room." And I'd put this right up there as an incredible case study of a film whose final product is disastrously unintelligible, which incessantly conflicts with itself. I can't help laughing at all of its absurdities, this being the final product is a wonder! My reaction is similar to Audrey's at the beginning: "Well, I do declare!" *gives the side eye while riding away*
Dead of Night (1945)
Watch the restored-length version!
After watching this film on Kanopy, I was confused as to why it's listed on IMDB as being 26 minutes than the version I watched. In the trivia section, it's explained that two sections/stories were cut from the film because the studio thought it was too long, which causes certain elements of the ending to be confusing and unexplained because of the omissions.
I had to come add a review on this movie to recommend watching the full-length version because it is surely much better that way, but with a catch. Without giving anything away, I'll explain:
The first of the two previously-cut stories is the Christmas party, which I feel like is essential. However, the second- the golf story- is in my opinion entirely inessential, and I believe caused the movie to lose its steam and become a bit bloated. It's entertaining, but as it's more comedic in nature, it just doesn't match the rest of the tone, and is misplaced among an otherwise collection of fantastically eerie tales, bound together with a brilliant overarching plot. If I were to watch it again, even for the first time, I would just skip over the golf story, it would make the whole movie run smoother and as a whole it would be a better viewing experience I think. That sequence starts at about the 55 minute-mark and lasts for about 15 minutes.
Aside from that though, I've got to say, if you are a fan of well-written horror, or just classic movies in general, then you've got to watch this film. I thought this one was absolutely brilliant.
Heat (1995)
Too Many Flaws To Be Overlooked...
Heat is a mostly-well-made piece of filmmaking, and while I'm not going to go into its strengths- since that seems to be what most of the reviews for this movie focus on anyway- don't get me wrong, it has a lot going for it, and it takes you on an enjoyable ride. But I just have to vent a little about this film's flaws that make me believe this movie doesn't deserve the level of praise it seems it gets. There were simply too many holes, too many flaws, too much unintelligence scattered throughout this film that for me, waters it down to simple entertainment rather than the weightiness that it seems to be hoping to carry. I'm just going to make out a bit of a list of issues that I had:
1. Too many quintessential Hollywood tropes litter the entirety of the movie. There are absurd levels of plot armor for main characters (while no-name police officers are mowed down). Police shootouts/chases give zero consideration for civilian safety (warzone-level escalation downtown). Val Kilmer is at near death in one scene, gets patched up and looks as though nothing has happened in the next. Female characters are essentially only romantic interests, victims, or both. Civilians are constantly running around like chickens with their heads cut off even when they only think a fire alarm is going off (have you ever seen people react in such a way when evacuating a building, smoke/fire unseen?). Noncharacters acting foolishly defiant so an example can be made of them, like the bank guy: "what key?" *gets whacked and the key is ripped off his neck*... There are just a lot of these cliches that make it feel very much like a Hollywood movie, rather than fully immersive.
2. That scene of Eady and Robert De Niro overlooking LA was so obviously green screened, to have it look that obviously fake is a sin. I can understand a movie's digital effects looking dated if it was something they wouldn't have been able to create otherwise, like with explosions, underwater sequences, wild animals, different things in sci fi movies, etc. But that just seems like lazy filmmaking to say, oh we couldn't get the lighting correct on location, so we're just going to try to pass off a bad green screen composite. I feel it's disrespectful to the viewers to act like we wouldn't notice the difference.
3. Speaking of Eady, I was nearly driven bonkers by how absurdly unrealistic a character she was. A beautiful, friendly woman is shown zero interest from anyone in a major city and ignored to the point that she is willing to abandon her entire life to go with a serial killer criminal that she's seen maybe 2-3 times? It's such misogynistic writing for her to throw herself at him anyway simply because of his stoic masculinity. And despite her seeing everything on television about how he turned downtown into a warzone?! How is she so enthralled by him? The guy has shown zero personality, all he's done is ask questions about her and been guarded about his own self. Automatic sex-on-the-first-date-worthy because... well, the movie is a male fantasy. So pure, so innocent, so naive! But she was lonely! How could she resist a man who's shown her a small bit of interest?!
4. Holy plot holes. The armored truck having to get knocked on its side despite it being specifically designed for that not to happen. The acumen and precision of the heist team being so praised and yet they do such dumb stuff throughout the movie (Waingro being unnecessarily hired in the first place, De Niro about to kill him in full public, then he escapes right out from under his feet. The decision to rob a bank in LA when they're feeling heat instead of a random city across the country maybe?) Taking off their masks and very visibly creating a hoard of citizen witnesses who could identify the robbers in a court of law. De Niro running offscreen from the hotel and straight onto the airport runway. The list of plot holes and conveniences to make the story work goes on and on.
5. Why is it so long? Why are there so many backstories, plots and subplots, if they don't all mesh together as a cohesive part of the full story? How are you going to have so many flaws, holes and inefficiencies and still justify all you tried to jam into this thing? A fair amount of it works in well, no doubt, but I feel like this is more of a cautionary tale of what happens when you try to be too ambitious and that overzealousness isn't reeled in during the editing phase. For me you have to earn your runtime, and I'm sorry but based on its quality, Heat deserves a runtime closer to Die Hard than it does The Godfather.
No way this movie deserves an 8+ rating on IMDB, there are too many things which add up to this movie being a mixed bag. Lots of fun scenes and interesting, artistic filmmaking don't get me wrong, but too many flaws to be considered among the greats. And -1 in my book also for treating itself as though it should be.
Star Wars: Episode VII - The Force Awakens (2015)
All the Reboot/Sequel Tropes in One Movie
On the surface, it would seem The Force Awakens did everything I'd want to see from it: likably interesting new characters, nostalgic old ones, entertaining adventure mixed with tragic heartbreak, and quality filmmaking techniques consistent with the originals. But while all this might makes one leave the theater feeling satisfied, it merely masks the gaping, fundamental issues at its core.
It's actually quite amazing how perfectly The Force Awakens encapsulates everything I despise about remakes, reboots, and sequels. Here is my list of a few of the tropes I loathe the most about such franchises, and how The Force Awakens violates all of them:
1. Unoriginality: Surely no sequel mimics any other nearly to the extent that Episode 7 does to Episode 4- not in a subtle, nuanced way, but more of a "you automatically fail the course for plagiarizing" sort of way. It's not only certain elements, it's the framework of the movie as a whole: unlikely hero from sand planet discovers Jedi potential on adventure to help rebellion destroy the dark side's mega weapon. It's not simply paying homage to the original or using it as a sort of archetype, it's straight up recycling the main plot points and feeding from the brand it's created.
2. Shifting Morals and Themes: Abrams seems to be under the impression that the aforementioned plot framework is what makes Star Wars great. What made Star Wars great to me is the personal journeys of Anakin and Luke to choose good or evil, and the ultimate triumph over evil. That was the character arc, and it all wrapped together nicely. The new franchise reboot seems to disregard that in order to add a different, ambiguous spin on what the "balance of the Force" actually means.
3. Characters Jarred from their Happily Ever After: The same ambiguity given to the themes is reflected onto our heroes. Call me naïve if you will, but I believe that some stories deserve happy endings. The original Star Wars trilogy has a happy ending. When we last saw them, Luke had defeated the Dark Side, Han and Leia were happily in love, the Rebellion had overthrown the Empire. Legalities aside, what right does the new franchise have in saying, "Psych! Just kidding! All those things were a lie, an illusion- the situation is actually quite opposite of all those things!" If a reboot wants to honor and respect the original, it starts first and foremost with not spitting on its story.
4. The "Bigger and Badder" Effect: Sequels furthermore downplay the seeming success of its predecessor's story by the emergence of a threat that's much worse than what's come before. "You thought the Empire/Darth Vader/Death Star was bad? Well that's no match for the One Order/Snoke/Death Planet!" It's egregious how shamelessly this escalation is presented, and it's supposed to be accepted at face value as if it makes any intuitive sense why a story continuously levels up to the next higher boss as if it's a '90s video game.
5. Unexplained/ Weakly Explained Circumstances: The prequel trilogy spent three movies showing the fall of the Republic and the rise of the Empire, while the original trilogy spent three movies showing the Empire's overthrow. It's fulfilling to see the Rebellion triumphant at long last. And then
in the following episode, the Empire (now "The One Order") is essentially in charge again? And they're stronger than ever before? And Han and Leia are divorced? And the Millennium Falcon is gone? And Luke is missing? And R2-D2 is busted? All out of nowhere? What? Those are all pretty big story elements to simply be glanced over by a line of dialogue here and there, don't you think? Oh, I must have forgotten to scour the internet for all the blog articles explaining and theorizing the convolution, silly me to think a story is supposed to be self-explanatory and maintain any reasonable flow.
6. Rejecting resolution in favor of becoming another generic gateway to an endless cash cow franchise: In the 136 minutes of this movie, nothing was resolved beyond the trivial. Sure the Death MacGuffin was blown up, but all character development (which is the heart of the Star Wars story) was left at a cliffhanger, and mostly left unexplained. (Han Solo's death had no closure because the backstory was missing.) The capabilities for meaningful themes and closure in a story are severely limited when that story is intended to continue in perpetuity into the eternities.
If you're a big Star Wars fan, then you might eat it all up because 1. it is entertaining, and 2. it gives you a bunch of stuff to discuss until the next trailer comes out. But for me, it's disappointing and aggravating to see a franchise sacrificed to the Almighty Dollar so ruthlessly, and it represents so much of what I dislike about the state of today's movie industry. I gave this reboot a chance, I won't feed the Disney Sequel Monster again.
The Boy in the Striped Pajamas (2008)
Beyond the Suspension of Disbelief
The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is perhaps a decent movie for general audiences with limited exposure to films more substantial than Hollywood's common and lighthearted blockbusters, but I feel it does not have the true depth it is sometimes credited as having. Now, I don't mean to demean anyone who had a powerful experience in viewing this film- it's good for people to have their minds stirred to the tragedies of the past who may or may not otherwise, and the movie has proved effective in bringing its viewers to tears, no doubt, but only through juvenile methods of storytelling.
The issue lies in its framework. It attempts to confront a delicately heavy subject, the Holocaust (which is automatically something that should tug at one's heartstrings for obvious reasons). But it doesn't do it in an authentic manner: it stretches the historical events around its plot, instead of the other way around as it should. I needn't go into the details as one can find them with a quick internet search, but the historical inaccuracies are downright blatant- yet integral to the plot.
I understand the concept of "the suspension of disbelief" when approaching fiction (and even historical fiction), but the story has to work by the rules that it sets forth. A comparison I will give is Life is Beautiful, another Holocaust film that stretched the truth: however, the world that movie had established was one of hi-jinks and coincidence, and therefore the minor historical liberties it takes are forgivable because the viewer ought not take it at face value. In The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, though, the story is presented as true-to-life, and therefore has a responsibility to neither mislead its viewership nor insult their intelligence, which is exactly what it does.
Because of this, it doesn't come across as authentic- not only by its historical falsities, but also in its far-fetched unfoldings of its plot, and in the flat traits and utter obliviousness of main characters. Many an audience can look past these shortcomings, it seems, but I found it to be insufferably jarring to the viewer experience, and the ending felt contrived and shallow as a result.
Rocky (1976)
"All I wanna do is go the distance"
I find Rocky to be one of my very favorite films because of how complete it is, from the writing of the screenplay to the acting to the soundtrack to how the whole thing comes together so effectively with such originality. It's the quintessential underdog story of life and love and fighting for one's dreams, a work of art straight from the heart of Sylvester Stallone.
I think what I find so endearing about Rocky is how much I can connect to it individually. Rocky is the every-man that so many of us can relate to, and I haven't found a film that so perfectly encapsulates the struggles of life that I also find myself facing. I think that way more than being a boxing film, Rocky is a fighting film- it's the fight that we all have to face to varying degrees.
Rocky comes from the bottom. Notwithstanding his heart and honesty, he wasn't blessed with the same talents and abilities that others may have; he's clumsy in speech and perhaps not the brightest of the lot. Like Adrian, he's surrounded by people (ahem, Mickey) who tell him he's not good enough, to "stay down." And like I feel in many circumstances, he feels inadequate. But he approaches those struggles head on. Whatever blows he's dealt, he comes back with persistence that he can overcome those obstacles. His simple hope is to become more than just an average bum; he uses his frustration to fuel himself towards rising above the mediocre misery that plagues so many.
My favorite scene is when he lies down in bed the night before the big fight and confides in Adrian how he doesn't really feel the need to win, he just wants "to go the distance." Likewise, I don't need to be the best, but if I can just match up against the struggles I face, stand toe to toe with them, refuse to let them knock me out- endure
Well, that's a victory worth celebrating. In the end, what the movie focuses on is not the outcome of the match, but on the love between Rocky and Adrian. Because in a world full of turmoil, underdogs like Rocky and Adrian can find each other, and rise together- and that's what matters.
City Lights (1931)
"City Lights" says it all
The timeless charm that Charlie Chaplin personifies through this film is at its greatest in this, his most graceful work of art. The genuine wit and humor mastered over the years is of course pervasive, but it ultimately plays second fiddle to the delicate eloquence of one of the most powerful love stories to ever grace the silver screen. This is the masterpiece Chaplin had been working towards his entire career, and it is executed incomparably.
It is a peculiar thing to consider the title of the film, as the city and its lights don't seem to be an overtly prominent part of the picture. However, upon closer inspection, it truly is all about the city (society and its individuals) and its lights in a figurative sense, as lights in this film can very much refer to the beacons of hope that the individual characters serve as to each other. While the three main characters are just struggling to make it by in this world- to find purpose, to succeed- their own sense of worth in the eyes of society goes unmatched by the light they bring to those who need it.
The millionaire's split personality as a suicidal drunkard (a social outcast) serves as the enlightened version of his character because in this state he is honest and mindful of those around him regardless of their status. His sober self, then, although admirable by society's standards, goes to show just how "blind" people are to the reality of how we should treat each other.
The blind Flower Girl, of course, is incidentally only blind to the true nature of the Tramp when she can physically see. When she learns the truth, the "light" goes on for her ("Yes, I can see now"), and she can go back to seeing the true nature of an individual rather than their outward appearance.
Thirdly, the Tramp is simply a bum meandering through life, until he finds a purpose. Naturally, it takes the city's lowest of the low- The Tramp- to be enlightened enough to see past a handicap and realize the true beauty of the Flower Girl, who is overlooked by the rest of society. As he becomes enlightened to the vitality of living selflessly, the Tramp receives the beacon of hope in return, grasping his dreams for love and a better way of life.
Although very different individually, as these characters can see beyond society's little boxes they are each little pillars of light to illuminate the way for each other (something every city could use a lot more of). The Tramp and the Flower Girl, having their eyes opened and having found each other, display one of the most fulfilling of on-screen romances, for as once they were struggling through life individually, they have discovered more than they could ever hope and dream, together. City Lights is a love story of two outcasts, loners; until we find our light, aren't we all?
Captain Phillips (2013)
More Shallow Than Expected
Let me preface this by saying that I am normally a fan of biopics, and even more a fan of Tom Hanks, so this movie was intriguing, especially because of the generally good reviews it has gotten.
However, I found this film to be rather flat, to be put quite simply. The dialogue at times felt mechanical, and as the story went on I realized that I didn't feel any substantial connection to the characters, as little effort is given to build any- including Captain Phillips, whose backstory was presented altogether poorly. Instead, the film jumped fairly quickly into the action, which would be fine, except that with the length of the movie, it drags on towards the end without giving the viewer any real reason to keep his or her interest. At the conclusion, I felt, meh. Not much of anything, just that it was over.
As I usually do, afterwards I read into the backstory of the film, to find some reasoning as to explain why I thought it could have been better developed. I learned that not only is the true Captain Phillips misrepresented in the movie as a hero, but that there is a much more interesting dynamic when it comes to the backstory of the Somalian pirates. In the movie we are only given a few confusing scenes (without subtitles, so fairly vague) where the pirates leave their village to be picked for the expedition, and throughout the story they are not really made out to be endearing, nor unlikable either. The viewer is left unsure what to think about their fate.
In real life, the plight of Somalians is that of foreign ships illegally taking advantage of their shipping lanes and fish, which dissipated their fish populations. As they have relied on fishing as nearly their only means for living, this led many to self-regulate the waters as their seemingly only other option, escalating into piracy. Whether this is morally justifiable or not, I can't say, but I dislike that this film fed the audience a definitive answer without even providing the full context. If the movie had developed this aspect more fully, I feel that it would have made for a much more compelling tale, as it would have done better to connect the audience to the Somalians rather than acting as just another Hollywood film with the undertone that American lives are more important than all others.
I would also have preferred a better developed Captain Phillips character. Obviously after reading articles, I would have liked to have him portrayed truer to his questionable real-life self, but it's the media business so I can settle for their idealized version; but only if they develop a reason to like him, which I still wasn't given. I just felt myself waiting for the movie to give me a reason to cheer for him, but like the entire role of characters, was given an altogether two dimensional character instead.
The story in its full context is incredibly interesting, but the movie decided to tell the basic press clippings version, and for that I am left disappointed.