Review: Monster

Image courtesy of Wild Bunch International.

Hirokazu Koreeda's subtle bullying drama "Monster" subverts expectations at every turn, from the intentions of its characters to the relevance of its title. Koreeda is one of Japan's best living filmmakers and his pictures always go about studying the human condition in a delicate and thoughtful manner, thereby causing some to suggest that his work is a modern incantation of master Yasujiro Ozu's work.

"Monster" tells several stories surrounding a series of incidents in which a boy has either been bullied by a fellow student, by a teacher, or even doing the bullying himself. The film observes the story from the perspective of the boy's mother, a teacher who gets accused of getting physically rough with the kid, a principal who is grieving the death of a grandchild, and even the two boys themselves.

Not all of the story is told in a linear fashion. We start out with the mother's story, which seems pretty clear cut as she gets increasingly frustrated while visiting the school after being led to believe that her son was struck by his teacher and getting what can only be described as an obnoxious response from the principal - whose grandchild was killed, we learn, when her husband was backing out of a driveway - and other teachers, who seem to want to keep the matter under wraps.

We then cut to the teacher's perspective and learn that not everything is nearly as clear cut as we'd thought. By the time we get to the story involving the boy and his awkward friend who is actually bullied by other students at the school and his macho father, it would seem we know very little. It brings to mind the saying that the more you learn, sometimes the less you know.

By the film's end, a few characters have been implicated while others look better once we have more of the pieces of the puzzle, but "Monster" doesn't give us all of the pieces, and it's up to the viewer to formulate their own opinions on what really happened here and who's to blame. Often, the questions posed by works of art are more interesting than the answers - and that's the case here.

Koreeda has been steadily making great movies for nearly three decades and his best work includes the Palm d'Or winner "Shoplifters," the two 1990s films "Maborosi" and "After Life," and last year's "Broker." While "Monster" might not be among his finest films, it's a thoughtful and engrossing take on how a community reacts - or, in this case, fails to react - to a complicated situation. It's well worth a look.

Review: Fallen Leaves

Image courtesy of The Match Factory.

Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki's films typically focus on downbeat characters and have an overall deadpan vibe to them. The filmmaker with whom he, perhaps, shares the most cinematic DNA is Jim Jarmusch and, sure enough, there's a scene in his latest, "Fallen Leaves," in which the two lead characters go to a movie together to watch a Jarmusch picture.

Kaurismaki's characters are often people down on their luck who either find a small piece of solace in a gloomy world or instead realize that they will forever be stuck in the mire. "Fallen Leaves" is one of the former and tells the tale of a grocery store worker named Ansa (Alma Poysti) who is fired from her job when a jerk of a security guard rats her out to her jerk of a boss for pocketing a food item that was going to be thrown into the trash anyway.

Meanwhile, Holappa (Jussi Vatanen) bounces from construction job to construction job, often getting fired for seeming - and likely being - inebriated on the job. He frequents a dive bar with a pal, Huotari (Janne Hyytiainen), who tries to convince Holappa to sing karaoke. There they meet Ansa and one of her friends and Huotari fails to score with the other woman.

Later, Holappa and Ansa run into each other and make plans for a date, which ends up being the aforementioned Jarmusch movie. However, their plans to connect again keep failing due to various circumstances - he loses her number and fails to show up at an appointed date and time and, later, a more serious intervention occurs.

Kaurismaki's more recent films have included some political commentary, such as the lovely "Le Havre," in which a community hides an immigrant boy from the authorities. "Fallen Leaves" is a little less overt, other than running commentary on the radio about the war in Ukraine. However, one can read this inclusion - and pair it with the unkind manner in which Ansa is fired and other misbehavior from minor characters - and see how Kaurismaki sets this love story against the backdrop of a world that's increasingly unkind. 

While the news on the radio makes it obvious when the picture is taking place, Kaurismaki includes his typical retro touches, such as the surf rock music that populates the soundtrack and the old-fashioned interiors in the film's bars, restaurants, and homes.

As Ansa and Holappa's burgeoning relationship has its ups and downs - mostly caused by near misses due to fate or bad circumstances - Ansa finds another bright spot in her life after adopting a dog that almost becomes the film's third main character. There's a lovely shot at the end when she and Holappa are walking and he asks about the dog's name, only to receive an answer that feels absolutely right.

Kaurismaki's films and characters might have a downbeat vibe, but the bright spot they provide in an increasingly dark world - as evidenced by the radio playing throughout the film - is due to the possibility of hope that his characters manage to retain despite job losses, wars, and failed romantic foibles. This movie is truly a pleasure.

Review: Eileen

Image courtesy of Neon.

Eileen (Thomasin McKenzie) doesn't have much going for her. She works at a prison in Massachusetts in what appears to be the early to mid-1960s. Her father (Shea Whigham) is a former police chief and current drunk who routinely draws police to his house for interventions regarding his bad behavior - mostly waving guns at passersby while inebriated. He compares Eileen to her sister - not favorably - and tells her to "get a life" and a "clue." Her sister is a non-presence and her mother is dead.

The other secretaries in the pool in which she works at the prison scoff at her, though Eileen isn't a shrinking violet. I got a good laugh at her response when one of them insinuates that she is in the midst of having her period. But no, there's not a whole lot to recommend in Eileen's day-to-day life. Despite the occasionally snarky comment, she might appear mousy to some, although a young prison guard who works in her line of sight probably doesn't know about the sexual fantasies she has, nor do her coworkers realize that she occasionally masturbates on the job.

The film is directed by William Oldroyd ("Lady Macbeth") and is based on the novel by Otessa Moshfegh, whose acclaimed chronicles of weirdos include "My Year of Rest and Relaxation" and "Death In Her Hands." "Eileen" tells the story of a young woman who's trapped in a bleak lifestyle and finds release upon the arrival of an exciting new person.

That person is Dr. Rebecca St. John (Anne Hathaway in a very credible femme fatale role), the prison's new psychiatrist whose glamorous outfits and confidence couldn't make Eileen more excited than if Marilyn Monroe herself wandered into her place of work. For reasons quite not explained, Rebecca takes a shine to Eileen and the two immediately hit it off.

Eileen's sexuality is seemingly a work in progress and possibly undergoing a transition. Early in the film, she fantasizes about the security guard having sex with her in a public place, but she is transfixed by Rebecca and clearly in a sexual way. This is compounded when Rebecca invites her out to drink and not only ignores the men at a bar where they meet, but focuses squarely on Eileen, first asking her to dance and then giving her a not-quite-chaste good night peck on the lips.

The film is a coming of age story, but a dark one indeed due to a plot twist that I didn't see coming - my wife has read the novel, but I have not - that takes "Eileen" down the road of film noir in its final third. Although I won't give away details, the plot thread involves Rebecca's interest in a young prisoner who was convicted for murdering his father while he slept in bed with the boy's mother. 

Rebecca thinks the boy was lashing out due to something sinister going on in the relationship and Eileen finds herself sucked into the scenario. In fact, the manner in which she finds out that she's suddenly involved in the scenario is played somewhat brilliantly as she and Rebecca sit across a table from each other.

Much of the film's success is involved in how well-developed Eileen is as a character - and McKenzie's strong performance - as well as how much of a mystery Rebecca turns out to be (Hathaway plays her with just the right amount of charisma and aloofness). While the surprise in the film's final third takes it into darker territory, the film leaves a bit to the imagination regarding Rebecca's intentions toward Eileen all along. This twist is jarring and while its presentation is effective, there's not enough information as to why Rebecca is so invested in the fate of the young prisoner.

This is the first Moshfegh novel to be adapted to the screen - my wife assures me that her slightly better known "My Year of Rest and Relaxation" is likely unadaptable - and its allure stems from the electricity between the two leads, who have some of the best chemistry I've seen this year, and the fact that the film doesn't take great pains to make Eileen likable. 

This is a film about a young woman who lives a somewhat bleak existence and is awaiting a spark of inspiration. She is unaware what she's capable of and her budding friendship with Rebecca provides her with a disturbing answer. Not all of the pieces of "Eileen" completely come together, but this is a solid sophomore feature for Oldroyd and a great showcase for its two leads.

Review: Maestro

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Bradley Cooper's second foray into directing - following 2018's "A Star is Born" update - at first feels like a standard biopic in its stylish portrayal of the life of legendary conductor and composer Leonard Bernstein (also played by Cooper in makeup that at times makes him semi-unrecognizable). Its early scenes briefly depict Bernstein's rise after he is called upon to lead the New York Philharmonic orchestra when its conductor takes ill. 

However, once Bernstein - who has affairs with men and doesn't try too hard to hide this from anyone - meets Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), the story becomes more interested in their relationship and transitions, to an extent, into an examination of how much a person will tolerate to continue to be married to a great artist (in this sense, it's similar to Paul Thomas Anderson's "Phantom Thread") and how two people live their lives - sometimes uncomfortably - in the spotlight.

The film opens with an older Bernstein at a piano being recorded by a film crew. He makes a reference to his wife and how often he thinks of her. Despite his affairs with men and his occasionally flaunting them in plain sight of her, it's obvious that Bernstein loves Felicia, who is in many ways the guiding light for his life and career.

The film's early black and white scenes are so convincing that one might believe they are watching a film from the 1940s if they didn't know better. The later scenes set in the 1950s and 1960s have a glorious Technicolor vibe to them, and nearly each frame of the film is gorgeous. 

As a director, Cooper has a great eye for visuals that stick around long after they have faded from the screen. One that has remained in my mind is the floating by of a massive balloon in the Macy's Day Parade that passes by Bernstein's window as he stands alone following a fight with his wife. It gave me the impression of a character who can be lonely even while being surrounded by people who fight for his attention.

Although the film is not meant to be an all-encompassing biopic and its focus is on Felicia and Leonard's marriage and her discomfort with his not-so-well-hidden affairs, we don't learn a lot about Bernstein otherwise. We hear snippets of "On the Town" and "West Side Story," and there's a particularly well-shot scene in which he conducts the London Symphony Orchestra's performance of Mahler's "Resurrection Symphony No. 2" at the Ely Cathedral in the early 1970s; however, Bernstein as a character is often kept at a distance.

Despite this slightly underdeveloped sense of his character - Mulligan's Felicia feels much more developed and her performance, most notably a monologue at a restaurant while dining with a friend, is stellar - "Maestro" is still an often exquisitely shot and engaging film about a legendary figure. 

It's obvious that a lot of care and effort - Cooper apparently spent years learning how to conduct to prepare for the film - went into it, and it's further proof of Cooper's abilities not only in front of the camera, but also in the director's seat.

Review: The Boy And The Heron

Image courtesy of Studio Ghibli. 

It's been a decade since Hayao Miyazaki last unleashed one of his gorgeous, strange, and magical films on the world and many thought 2013's "The Wind Rises" would be his last. Thankfully, he has returned with a new film, "The Boy and the Heron," which plays in some respects as a greatest hits for the director. 

It tells a child's story as he finds himself in a fantastical world while dealing with grief and attempting to find a way to free his pregnant stepmother, all of which sound like pieces from other Miyazaki films. However, Miyazaki's is a singular voice and even if some of the elements feel overly familiar - and the plot occasionally labyrinthine - it's the emotions and the loving detail to which the animator and filmmaker have crafted its visuals that make it entrancing.

The film's original title was "How Do You Live?," which is also the name of a novel by Genzaburo Yoshino that makes an appearance here with a note to Mahito, the boy who is the lead character, from his mother, who died in World War II in a Tokyo hospital fire that opens the film. He is sent to the countryside by his father, Shoichi, to live with his new, pregnant stepmother, Natsuko, who is the sister of his late mother.

Bored by his new surroundings and unfriendly to Natsuko, Mahito meets a heron that teases him about his mother and notes that his "presence is requested." After Natsuko goes missing, Mahito follows the bird to a tower where his great-granduncle once disappeared. Upon entering the tower, Mahito is plunged into a strange and fantastical world that is ruled by birds, from hordes of pelicans to man-sized and violent parakeets as well as small creatures known as warawara that float to Earth to become people.

As always, Miyazaki's latest film is full of wonder and fantastical sights - one particularly memorable moment involves the floating of the warawara up into the sky as they try to avoid being eaten by pelicans, while another takes place during Mahito's first meeting with the heron as he is covered in frogs and other creatures. 

During the course of the film, Mahito uses this fantasy world to escape the pain of the real one, namely having to deal with a new mother who replaces the one lost in the fire at the beginning whom he occasionally believes he sees while navigating this Wonderland. Mahito learns that while we can escape into fantasy worlds for respite, we must ultimately find the courage to live in the real one.

Miyazaki is one of the most acclaimed filmmakers of the past 30 years. My personal favorite of his work is the spellbinding "Spirited Away," although I also have a soft spot for the lovely "My Neighbor Totoro." It's great to see Miyazaki back at work and, hopefully, this won't be his last. "The Boy and the Heron" is a nice reminder of how magical the experience of watching one of his films can be.

Review: Dream Scenario

Image courtesy of A24.

If Charlie Kaufman wanted to make a film about our self-devouring culture that focused on everything from cancel culture and viral sensations to social-media groupthink, it would likely look something like "Dream Scenario," a proudly weird, occasionally frightening, and overall compelling new film from Kristoffer Borgli that carries on the recent tradition of making Nicolas Cage the star-du-jour for all things bizarre.

In the film, Cage plays Paul Matthews, a nondescript, tenured evolutionary biology professor whose classes appear to leave students unengaged. Suddenly, for seemingly no reason, Paul begins popping up in people's dreams - and not just those with whom he's familiar. In some sort of unexplainable psychological phenomenon, Paul makes appearances in dreams of thousands of people, many of whom he has never met. In all of the dreams, he - at first, at least - plays a passive role, a passerby to a nightmare or unusual nocturnal escapade.

As a result, he finds his star on the rise and hopes to use his newfound fame to publicize a book he has long dreamed of writing, but hasn't actually begun. His wife, Janet (Julianne Nicholson), appears unsure whether his becoming a celebrity is a good thing, and he is soon contacted by a strange advertising agency led by Michael Sera known as Thoughts? that wants him to act as the spokesperson for Sprite.

Paul's insecurities and some of the early sequences involving his awkward encounters with people in whose dreams he has appeared are quite funny, especially a failed sexual interlude that is interrupted by flatulence. For the first half of the film, we are in Kaufman territory, whereas the film takes a much darker turn during its second half and one of the film's producers, director Ari Aster, appears to be an influence, notably his own strange film from earlier this year, "Beau is Afraid."

As people's dreams containing Paul soon become nightmares that feature much more overt acts from the professor - mostly violent ones - his status as an overnight celebrity soon turns into one as a pariah. His car is defaced, he is attacked in a diner after refusing to leave to make the other patrons more comfortable, and he is not allowed to attend his daughter's theater performance at the local high school.

During one sequence, a group of his students - whom he attacked in their dreams - take part in a ritual meant to relax them in which a counselor brings Paul into the room with them and asks him to slowly step forward. When they flee in a panic and then shout at him as he walks toward his car - which has the word "Loser" scrawled onto it - he notes to the counselor that his students are overdramatizing the fact that his presence is a trauma, adding that everything from an argument to being faced with uncomfortable topics has become trauma in the modern age, thereby minimizing actual traumatic events.

One of the things that "Dream Scenario" does best is capture the current age of overnight celebrity and the social media - and otherwise - mobs that ensue when the crowd tires of one's celebrity. Paul is completely helpless to the fact that he appears in people's dreams - and that his presence later becomes violent - but he is ostracized and has his life ruined as a result. 

A scene that had me nodding my head in disturbed recognition late in the film involves scientists figuring out how to enter others' dream-spaces and corporations then utilizing this to sell products subconsciously, reminding me of the subliminal capitalist messaging in John Carpenter's brilliant "They Live." The thing that makes "Dream Scenario" effective, often hilarious, and frightening is how possible all of its absurdist twists and turns feel in today's surreal age.

If there's any criticism to be made here, it's that "Dream Scenario" doesn't quite stick the landing in the way that one of its cinematic kinfolk - such as "Being John Malkovich" or "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" - do. At the film's end, it appears as if the filmmakers didn't quite know where to go next or how to resolve Paul's dilemma, so the film just ends. Regardless, "Dream Scenario" is an unusual and engaging social commentary mindbender with another memorable performance by Cage, who has revitalized his career to become one of cinema's most intriguing weirdos. 

Review: May December

Image courtesy of Netflix.

In scene after scene of Todd Haynes' new film, "May December," we overhear or spot groups of people walking the streets of Savannah, Georgia - where the film is set - as they listen to guides on what appear to be ghost tours. The guides provide commentary about something horrible that happened in the past on the spot where the group happens to be standing. As long as they are bystanders and not participants, people love to hear grim stories about dramatic incidents or tragedies.

This minor element of the film is a great microcosm for the story of "May December," which concerns an actress named Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) who travels to Savannah to spend a few days with a woman named Gracie (Julianne Moore), who was some years ago the subject of much tabloid scandal when she had an affair with a seventh grade boy named Joe. 

As an adult, Joe (Charles Melton) is a beefy but silent type who fathered a child - and then several more afterward - with Gracie and is now married to her. Elizabeth has invaded their domicile to study Gracie so that she can portray her in an indie movie that tells the salacious story of her relationship with the boy, which began in a pet shop.

Much like two of Haynes' best films - "Far from Heaven" and "Carol" - his latest is a Sirkean melodrama that relies heavily on some of the tropes you might expect: overly dramatic music, line readings that occasionally border on the absurd, and passions that run high. Early in the film, Gracie stares blankly into a refrigerator and mumbles that she doesn't know whether there will be enough hot dogs for a cookout that she's hosting and the accompanying music might make you believe you have stumbled into a horror movie.

At first, Elizabeth's research into Gracie and Joe seems innocuous. She asks the types of questions you'd expect and she pays a visit to a few other people affected by the incidents of the past - Gracie's lawyer, her ex-husband, and the son from her first marriage, the somewhat hostile Georgie (Cory Michael Smith), who appears to be trouble.

While Gracie, based on her past behavior, would likely be pegged as a predator, she's seemingly accepted by her community, although at times her outwardly friendly persona seems to crack. On the other hand, our perception of Elizabeth begins to change during the course of the film. There's an uncomfortable scene in which she discusses what it takes to be an actress with a group of high school students and one student - a boy, of course - decides to be a class clown and asks what it's like to be in sex scenes while making movies. The detail to which Elizabeth describes her experience to the class of students is unsettling.

As she attempts to get into character, Elizabeth digs a little deeper than she should with her subjects, especially Joe, who starts to question more and more throughout the course of the film why people look at him like he's a victim and whether he actually is one. During one scene in which Elizabeth takes matters too far with Joe, she responds that physical intimacy is just something that adults do, driving home the fact that the woman with whom he shares his life was the only adult in the equation at the time of their first dalliance, and that Elizabeth is willing to also take advantage of him.

Elizabeth also finds out some unsettling news about Gracie's upbringing through Georgie, but this is then called into question during a final, somewhat mystifying sequence at a graduation. "May December" is the type of film that feels as if it's continually pulling the rug out from under our feet. How the viewer feels about any of the characters or their relationships is up to them. This is not a film of easy answers.

Haynes is among the top echelon of current American filmmakers and he boasts an impressive resume - "Far from Heaven," "Carol," "Safe," the superb "Mildred Pierce" miniseries, and "I'm Not There," which is, for my money, probably the greatest music biopic I've seen. "May December" might not be quite on par with those films, but it's a solid entry into the director's oeuvre that utilizes some of his trademark stylistic touches - female lead characters, melodramatic aspects, stories about secrets bubbling to the surface - and will no doubt leave an impression. It's a film that leaves much to chew on after it's over, which to me is always a high mark of praise for any movie.