AFTERLAND (2020)

April 23, 2021

I pre-ordered Lauren Beukes’ AFTERLAND before lockdown without knowing anything about the book. I’ve been a fan of hers for years — ZOO CITY, THE SHINING GIRLS * and BROKEN MONSTERS are all worth your time — so I was very excited for her new book. Unfortunately, AFTERLAND didn’t hit my local bookstore until late July.

Around August I glanced at the summary on the slipcover and saw it was a post-pandemic thriller and I immediately shoved it to the bottom of my to-read queue because, for obvious reasons, I didn’t need that at that time.

April rolls around and folks are getting vaccinated. I’ve re-watched 12 MONKEYS (the TV show), THE LEFTOVERS, read and watched SPONTANEOUS, and given the fact that all three of those pieces deal with pandemics and/or the collective grief of dealing with unknown, uncountable deaths, I thought: “Hey, maybe I’m ready to read AFTERLAND now!”

I was not. The book jumps back-and-forth in time, starting with the post-pandemic present, then back to the unknown of the pandemic: a virus that only affects men with a single-Y chromosome which then induces a particularly aggressive, deadly type of prostate cancer. Beukes absolutely nails a lot of the details of living within a pandemic, the uncertainty, the hysterical actions some take, the social fallout.

I imagine that sort of exactitude is a cold comfort for Beukes, as I doubt sales were strong because of the material, which is a damn shame. I’m tempted to say that she read Brian K. Vaughan’s Y THE LAST MAN and exclaimed: ‘This is bullshit! Women wouldn’t act like that!’ and decided to pen her own version. (Given Beukes’ experience in comics, I’m doubtful AFTERLAND was so reactionary, but she does allude to Vaughan’s series.)

Once you can get over the haunting foretelling of Beukes’ pandemic, you can revel in the compelling characters in AFTERLAND, all women except for protagonist Cole’s son, Miles. Cole is one flawed mother, but AFTERLAND seems to give Beukes permission to write absolute shit-heel women, which is exactly what Billie, Cole’s sister, is. There’s a fantastic familial push-and-pull that weaves its way through the novel’s cat-and-mouse game.

It’s great, character-forward speculative fiction that, while it’s a rough read in these times — and probably will be for some time — if you can stomach it, you’ll be rewarded.

Afterland
  • THE SHINING GIRLS is slated to be an Apple TV+ mini-series starring Elisabeth Moss, although I haven’t heard whether it’s entered production yet.

REVIEW: Pancakes, Divorce, Pancakes (S0103, 2014)

April 19, 2021

(Paramount+/Pluto/VOD) Personal note: This will be the last daily recommendation for the foreseeable future, for reasons detailed below. I hope I haven’t wasted too much of anyone’s time, and my many sincere thanks to those who have commented and those I’ve conversed with over the past ~275 recommendations. You’ve been a balm through this very difficult time.

REVIEW was a fictional Comedy Central show — adapted from a more irreverent Australian show of the same name — centered around soliciting life experience queries from people and then ‘life-reviewer’ Forrest MacNeil (legendary cult comedian/actor/writer Andy Daly) would then find a way to live the experience, review it, and rate it on a five-star system.

While the show could — and definitely leaned into — slapstick behavior, it more often than not tackled more emotional challenges. In -Pancakes, Divorce, Pancakes-, the third episode of the opening season, Forrest is requested to:

1) Review eating 15 pancakes:

2) Review getting divorced (unfortunately not available via YouTube)

3) Review eating 30 pancakes:

Forrest commits to all of it and it’s so hilariously tragic, partially because he’s so blindly committed to his job, but also because he feels he has a personal contract with an audience that barely exists with which he has his own unwritten personal rules that he must abide by. (Especially in the -Divorce- segment, where most of the comedy is elicited by the fact that he feels he can’t tell his wife he’s doing this because of his show.)

I initially picked this episode as a quick-and-easy recommendation to write up but, while typing the above, I realized: Oh, fuck. I’ve become Forrest MacNeil.

I started these daily recommendations to give me a bit of structure and bonding with friends during lockdown. Also, I’d missed writing about media, as the last time I regularly did so was more than several years ago on my defunct videogame criticism/analysis website THE NEW GAMER. I thought: “I can find ~200-300 words a day about something I’ve watched that I love! Surely I can manage that for a year, or until I get to see a post-worthy film in a theater!”

That word limit lasted about three months. Then I added more unstated personal rules: I should post no later than midnight CST; if I haven’t watched it in over a year, I should re-watch it; if it’s an adaptation, I should read the book and comment on that; if there’s a TV adaptation, I should watch and touch on that. (To be fair, half of the time I had either already read the adaptation or watched some, if not all, of the TV adaptation. For example, my THE GHOST & MRS. MUIR recommendation with which I had previously done all three.)

Thanks to REVIEW, I’ve realized I’m currently writing these daily recommendations simply because of my own arbitrary rules and, while I love writing about media, it’s spun a bit out of control. It hasn’t been a bad experience by any means, but those dumb rules of mine ruined what was supposed to be a quick, dumb thing done for fun. That said, I’ll continue to write recommendations, but on far looser terms.

So, on that note, I’ll review this endeavor as Forrest MacNeil would: “Writing a daily media recommendation newsletter during a global pandemic: 4 stars.”

“This certainly is an upsetting number of pancakes.”

THE MISFITS (1962)

April 18, 2021

(hoopla/Pluto/VOD) A few things to know about this film:

  • It was Arthur Miller’s first credited screenplay. He claims he wrote it for Marilyn Monroe, his wife at the time, to star in. She hated her character in the film, and the two of them divorced before the film was finished.
  • It was Marilyn Monroe’s final completed feature before she died.
  • Clark Gable cursed Marilyn for often showing up late (if at all) and, due to time constraints, opted to do many of his own stunts.
  • It was Clark Gable’s final film. He died of a heart attack shortly after filming.

I could summarize it as a film where Clark Gable, Eli Wallach, and a post-car crash Montgomery Ward are all infatuated with a mercurial Marilyn Monroe, and they all head out to a wilderness spot to break a bunch of horses, or you could just watch the ‘paddle ball’ scene:

Or the ‘horse breaking’ scene:

(Or, of course, the trailer below.)

THE MISFITS an oil-and-water mixture of a film featuring actors and a filmmaker (the legendary John Huston) and a writer of wildly differing generations and dispositions grating against each other. While you can feel the tension, the frustration simmering between everyone involved, Miller’s screenplay inadvertently works with it, even fueling the over-stressed feeling of the film.

Miller is clearly working out a lot of personal issues out loud and, by doing so, it becomes a complex tale about men and adapting to change, but Monroe was right to be mad: her character is just a shape in a dress who can’t stand to see hurt in the world. He meant to pen a film for his wife, but only cared to flesh out the men that surrounded her. Good on her to dump the motherfucker.

THE MISFITS’ surprisingly avant-garde trailer:

Lastly, the title sequence is quite remarkable, and it was created by George Nelson and Co. Yes, the industrial designer. You can find more info here.

OSCAR AND LUCINDA (1997)

April 17, 2021

(VOD) My wife recently sent me a link to a gothic test tube greenhouse that immediately prompted a flashback to the glass cathedral featured in Gillian Armstrong’s adaptation of OSCAR AND LUCINDA.

Apart from SID AND NANCY, I recall OSCAR AND LUCINDA as one of the first films I saw where I recognized: ‘Oh, this is a romantic drama about two people that feed their worst impulses and would’ve been better off never meeting each other.’

If you aren’t familiar with the film, it’s the story of Oscar and Lucinda, two gambling addicts in the mid-1800s who find each other and immediately orbit one another. Oscar (Ralph Fiennes) is a priest very adept at gambling but, to ease his guilt, he gives all his winnings — apart from what he needs to live — away. Lucinda (Cate Blanchett) is a forthright woman and adept gambler who has vast resources thanks to inheriting her parents’ glass factory. Oscar is discovered as a gambler while betting on cards with Lucinda and is consequentially ostracized. Lucinda wants to help get him back on his feet by building a giant glass cathedral, which Oscar will then oversee by taking his religion to Africa. (One can’t help but compare this venture to Herzog’s FITZCARRALDO.)

The film has a persistent voice-over (via Geoffrey Rush) that, unlike most voice-overs, has a welcome purpose. Regarding Lucinda, the unseen person states:

“Lucinda’s mother knew she had produced a proud square peg, in the full knowledge that, from coast-to-coast, there were nothing but round holes.” The film doubles back to this description by having Oscar later confess to Lucinda: “I do not fit, I know that.”

The film is chock full of similar callbacks and repeated, often unsubtle, visual symbolism that wouldn’t work if not for the combination of Fiennes and Blanchett’s costume design, brilliant camera and production work — every scene on a boat manages to exceptionally convey both the thrill and anxiety of traveling by water — and Armstrong’s command of tone.

I’ll note that, upon rewatching the film, there’s rape scene that I certainly did not remember. It’s not there to be shocking or exploitative, as it’s in the film for a reason, but I was shocked that I had forgotten about it.

THE THIRD MAN (1949)

April 16, 2021

(Criterion/IndieFlix/VOD) Yes, another film with Orson Welles, albeit directed by Carol Reed (who had previously directed the stellar noir ODD MAN OUT). It’s not just one of my favorite noirs but one of my favorite films period. For example, I snuck in excerpts from the soundtrack it into my wedding playlist. (I’ll note it was the dining playlist, not the dance playlist.)

While I love everything about it — the zither-centric soundtrack, the clever use of post-wartime occupied space, the amazing chiaroscuro work and canted angles supplied by Reed’s go-to cinematographer Robert Krasker, Holly Martins’ (Joseph Cotton) writerly self-deprecation, and obviously Welles as Harry Lime and the marvelous scene construction of the cuckoo clock scene — I came to it far later in life than I should have. While other films have liberally borrowed from it — notably BRAZIL with its zither use and own Harry Lime — and while it’s widely considered one of the greatest British films ever made, I have the impression that it’s a film that is rarely watched by anyone apart from cinephiles and noir nerds like myself. It’s not a film you hear friends say ‘Oh, I saw that with my mom (or dad)! They absolutely loved that film. Let’s watch it again!’ Casual filmgoers don’t seem to speak of it with the reverence they would of, say, CHINATOWN.

Perhaps it’s because Cotton lacks the enigmatic charisma of Bogart, even though I can’t see Bogart as Holly Martins. Perhaps most people hate zither music. Perhaps I’m wrong, and youths organize weekly watch parties for it. Regardless, it is rich and substantial, and a film that folks should see far earlier in life. It captures a very specific time in a way that few movies do, and the fact that it has a complicated male relationship, an exceptional villain, and a thrillingly extraordinary chase scene, should be more than enough to merit anyone’s attention.

Or, perhaps I’m entirely wrong about all of the above and maybe it has aged terribly, now considered to be completely overrated. Watch and see for yourself. All I know is that I’ll never stop loving it.

AD ASTRA (2019)

April 15, 2021

(VOD) AD ASTRA is another dude with daddy issues film from James Gray (LOST CITY OF Z) that tries to be a lot of things: action-packed space-faring spectacle, colonialism, existential horror, and a meditation on journeymen, to name a few, and while it doesn’t quite succeed at any of them, it’s certainly the sort of big swing I appreciate.

However, I’m mentioning AD ASTRA to reflect on my initial viewing experience. You may have heard that all Pacific and ArcLight theaters are going to be shuttered permanently, including the previously mentioned Cinerama Dome in L.A. as well as the Chicago ArcLight location.

If a film wasn’t playing at one of the indie theaters in Chicago — such as the Davis Theater, The New 400, The Music Box, or the Siskel Film Center — I’d normally head north to Evanston’s Century 12 (which has also permanently closed, but will almost certainly re-open as a new theater) or head south to the ArcLight. In the case of AD ASTRA, I ventured to the ArcLight for a weekday double-feature of Sad Son in Space and the Chicago premiere of PARASITE.

When I walked into the ArcLight that afternoon, there wasn’t a single employee in sight. No one helming the bar, no one doling out popcorn, no one taking tickets. It was eerily silent, especially as I meandered down the halls to locate the screen, which felt like a perfect prelude to a film in which Brad Pitt spends a fair amount of time alone.

It’s worth noting that the evening screening of PARASITE was a sold-out delight. Seeing that film for the first time with an energetic crowd prone to gasping and belly-laughing was incredible. We figured we were in for something special, but we were not fully prepared for it.

There’s one more screening I’d like to mention, which could have happened in any other theater, but happened to occur at the ArcLight: I was attending a late-night screening of BLACK CHRISTMAS (2019), populated by a handful of bored teens and two older goths. I kept hearing a chain rattling, and I couldn’t quite figure out whether it was a diegetic sound or what, but it kept occurring throughout the film. Turns out, it was the leash and collar of a very large, very well-behaved dog keeping the goths company. Simply put, that’s not a sound you expect to hear in a theater!

I don’t want to oversell the Chicago ArcLight. It’s hardly the Austin Alamo Drafthouse (RIP, even though the Alamo Drafthouse certainly has issues), but it was a fine theater that was nicely kept, comfortable, and you could grab some above-average food and a local draft beer before your film, and I will miss it.

NETWORK (1976)

April 14, 2021

(VOD) This fucking script. Paddy Chayefsky was in his fifties when he wrote this — he died six years later. You could rewrite this script word-for-word today and it’d still work.

Unfortunately, it’s hampered by a terrible sexual subplot which basically inserts Chayefsky as Dunaway’s lover, and has him repeating why she’s doomed to fail, so uh, ignore all of that, please?

“Television will never be the same.”

I’LL CRY TOMORROW (1955)

April 13, 2021

(VOD) Admittedly, I’LL CRY TOMORROW is not a great film; it’s high camp masquerading as a cautionary tale about addiction with the sizzle of a true life autobiography. Lead actor Susan Hayward chews up the scenery with her drinking and her D.T.s, and the film vastly overstays its welcome. (It’s worth noting that Hayward would be knowingly cast in another camp/addiction adaptation: THE VALLEY OF THE DOLLS.) However, I’LL CRY TOMORROW does pre-date the fictitious but similarly overwrought DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES, and it’s a damn good looking film; its Oscar nomination for cinematography was well-deserved. Additionally, it certainly helped to educate folks about Alcoholics Anonymous so it’s not totally without merit.

None of that’s why I’m mentioning I’LL CRY TOMORROW, though. MY LIFE WITH THE THRILL KILL KULT are an electro-industrial band that specialize in sampling camp films and performances, one I grew up listening to and, while there are sample databases out there, I always glean so much more pleasure from accidentally stumbling over a sample source rather than actively seeking them out. That’s exactly what occurred while lounging on the couch, half-listening to TCM play I’LL CRY TOMORROW a few days ago.

The moment I heard and recognized someone say “Honey, sing us a song,” I knew it’d be a rich vein for MY LIFE WITH THE THRILL KILL KULT to mine, and they drilled deep for -The Devil Does Drugs- and the reworked version -…And This Is What The Devil Does-, as well as -A Girl Doesn’t Get Killed by a Make-Believe Killer… ‘Cuz It’s Hot- and -Kooler Than Jesus-. There’s one scene about two-thirds through the film between Lillian Roth (Susan Hayward) and her mother (Jo Van Fleet) that they practically sampled in its entirety, including the following bits of dialogue:

“Oh, look what you did! And you did it on purpose!”

“You’re still trying to make me do what you want, to be what you want! I can’t be anything except what I am!”

“What are you trying to do, drive me crazy?!”

“GET IT NOW!”

“All right. All right! EVERYTHING!”

“Look at me. I said look at me! Don’t turn your face away! I’m the looking glass you created to see yourself in.”

They sampled those lines over thirty years ago, and now one more sample source mystery from my youth has been solved.

-…And This Is What The Devil Does- video:

-Kooler Than Jesus- video:

-A Girl Doesn’t Get Killed by a Make-Believe Killer… ‘Cuz It’s Hot-:

-The Devil Does Drugs-:

I’LL CRY TOMORROW trailer:

KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE (2016)

April 12, 2021

(hoopla/kanopy/VOD) Coincidentally, this was released in the same year as CHRISTINE, but by the radical documentarian Robert Greene, again about Christine Chubbuck.

While I dodged Christine’s life events in yesterday’s recommendation of CHRISTINE, I can’t do so here because it’s the crux of this documentary. So, if you’d planned on watching CHRISTINE, go ahead and do so before reading further.

I’ll wait.

Still waiting.

Pad, pad, padding the post.

Okay, ready?

While giving a news report on the local news network she worked for, Christine diverged from the report and said: “In keeping with Channel 40’s policy of bringing you the latest in ‘blood and guts’ and in living color, you are going to see another first—an on-the-air suicide.” She then shot herself in the head, and died shortly after.

While CHRISTINE is a fictionalized exploration of Chubbuck’s psyche, KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE sees Kate Lyn Sheil (previously mentioned: the STRANGE WEATHER music video, also of YOU’RE NEXT and SHE DIES TOMORROW, as well as previously recommended director Sophia Takal’s debut GREEN) doing research for the role of playing Christine Chubbuck.

If you aren’t familiar withe Robert Greene’s work, he plays with the nature of recreation in documentaries. His follow-up, BISBEE ’17, explicitly explores that as he enlists an entire town to recreate what becomes a xenophobic, union-busting exiling of denizens. As a fan of documentaries, I believe this sort of meta-exploration of the inherent exploitation of documentaries is important, but also potentially fraught with their own sort of problems.

That’s why, with KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE, Greene’s smartly — and just as potentially problematically — documentary puts it entirely on Shell’s shoulders, and — if what we’re shown is to be believed — really puts her through the wringer. Shell is recreating Christine, physically and mentally, and it takes its toll.

It’s worth nothing that KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE is partially constructed around the urban legend that Paddy Chayefsky’s NETWORK was inspired by Christine’s on-air suicide, which is complete and utter bullshit — Chayefsky had been workshopping NETWORK well before her suicide — but something Greene defends as “being not quite true seems completely appropriate.”

It’s also worth noting that the dramatic re-enactments are terribly scripted, feel stilted and, apart from a few scenes, probably should’ve been excised completely, even if they were intentionally mawkish. That seemingly undercuts all of the work that everyone — especially Sheil — has done, but I get the feeling Greene doesn’t care.

Before writing these two recommendations, I’d felt that KATE PLAYS CHRISTINE was the ‘better’ film versus CHRISTINE; it conceptually tackles more; it’s more artfully, abstractly constructed; the intent is to take a magnifying lens to why we want to examine this story. Today, I’m not so sure.

At the end of the day, it’s still just a bunch of dudes reappropriating Christine’s story for their own reasons, for reasons she Christine herself probably wouldn’t agree with, which seems like the biggest sin here. Fundamentally, this is a story about a woman trying to live the life she’d set out for herself. The fact that she lived in a masculine world of journalism, or that she killed herself in what would be considered a masculine way, shouldn’t require a masculine retelling, but instead we received two re-appropriations of the tale.

“You have to tell me why you want to see it. … Are you happy now?”

PARADISE KILLER (2020)

April 11, 2021

It took a while, but I just wrapped up PARADISE KILLER, an extremely stylish, absolutely bonkers murder mystery game for Switch/PC. It’s so bonkers that, when my wife asked why it was named PARADISE KILLER, I had to think for a bit and then responded: “It’d take me at least five minutes to detail why, and I don’t have the energy for that right now.”

That said, I do love a challenge, so here it goes: humanity has been visited by gods and, in a way to appeal to the gods’ sensibilities, a faction of semi-immortals (who go by the moniker The Syndicate) have been building ideal islands — this may or may not be a riff on Gaunilo’s ‘Lost Island’ argument, who knows? — by kidnapping mortal humans to build said islands. Unfortunately, each of the prior 24 islands have been corrupted by demonic influence, causing them to self-destruct the island and move on to a new, more perfect island. The immortals get to ascend to the new island, whereas the mortals are ceremoniously slaughtered. Island 25, dubbed Perfect 25, has been built and The Syndicate are transferring over, but halfway through the migration the leaders of The Syndicate are murdered. To solve the mystery, Syndicate investigator Lady Love Dies is brought out of her multi-million year exile. (She’d previously been tricked by a demon to help undermine an island.) The game itself has you navigate Lady Loves Dies throughout the mostly empty vaporware aesthetic of Island 24 to interrogate the remaining Syndicate members, gather evidence, and then dole out sweet bullet justice.

Phew. See? Absolutely bonkers, and I didn’t even go into the blood crystals, reality drive, or lingering ghosts.

Now, please don’t take this post as an ecstatic recommendation. This game is practically tailor-made for me, thanks to its high-concept pitch, exceedingly idiosyncratic dialogue, non-sensical item collection, low-anxiety stakes, absolutely infectious soundtrack and casual romancing, but it’s not exactly a ‘good game’. Most of the time you’re roaming around the island for hours to find someone to talk to, all while getting distracted by the numerous items that litter Island 24. You can purchase a few power-ups, which consist solely of ways to allow you to explore more of the island, slightly faster, which you’ll appreciate because you will get lost, a lot. It’s an open world game, but lacks the hallmarks of what one expects from open world design, such as sensible urban layouts or proper landmarks, or even easy fast travel. (You can fast travel, but it’ll cost you.)

Also, the end is more than slightly underwhelming. It’s worth noting that, while it’s a murder mystery, you can accuse anyone you want, regardless of evidence. Even after the trials are over, you can dole out justice haphazardly by executing or exiling anyone left on the island.

That said, it was a perfect game for me at this time, as it helped me through the tail end of winter and eased me into spring. I desperately need to pick up a copy of the soundtrack.