Kingsman: The Secret Service film review

Kingsman is an outrageously sophisticated action film tailored for those who have affinity for the James Bond films. It is a joyride that borders on the ridiculous, and Colin Firth is impeccable as the well suited espionage Kingsman, Harry Hart.

With a comedic twist to the Bond like villain, philanthropist Valentine, played by the always sexy motherfucker, Samuel L. Jackson, hatches a nefarious plot to population control, and plans to use technological advancements  against humanity, the Kingsman must not only train new spies, but stop Valentine before it is too late.

Watching the film in Dbox (a motion sensor seat that vibrates like a roller coaster) the experience of the action scene were intensified.  If you can afford and can handle motion seats I would recommend Dbox.  There was a particularly visceral and cerebral church scene that played out like a video game, and which was the highlight of the film as a whole.

My only complaint about the film transpires in the third act, when the main character, Eggsy - played by newcomer Taron Egerton - is propositioned by a captured princess to be saved.  She tells him if he saves her she would be willing to let him fuck her in the ass.  

My issue here is the exaggeration of both gender expression.  First, a woman who feels compelled to offer sex in exchange for safety, and second, a young man is, as is often the case in films like these, rewarded with sex to saving a woman.  

The fact that it is also not just sex, but anal sex propels this story into a taboo space of sexuality displayed in film.  One thing must be known, the MPAA rating system is completely flawed.  Male sexual expression - including anal sex that adds absolutely nothing to the plot of the film - is in most cases given a R rating, but when when a film shows a woman enjoying sexual pleasure that is imperative to the film's plot, it is almost always given an NC-17.  

It irked me that I was able to enjoy the Kingsman up until the very end.  I was sorely disappointed that once again, a gratuitous scene that does nothing, but create another patriarchal distortion on a decent film, was added in when it didn't need it.  There is nothing new or fresh about using a female's body to appeal to a young boy's imposed libido.  I hate it, and find it disgusting that films continue to write the scripts that young adults use to navigate through relationships.  

However, having said that, Kingsman was still fun, and I really appreciated the female assassin named Gazzelle, who had weaponized prosthetic legs.  She was fierce and strong, and completely fun to watch.  Kingsman is probably the lesser of evils given some disturbing films like Fifty Shades of Grey and The boy Next Door, are in theaters as well.  

Maniac Film Review: Frodo Gone Psycho

Elijah Wood is a Maniac

First and foremost, this is an impressive performance by Elijah Wood.  Second, what makes Maniac a unique film is the smart use of cinematography.  The majority of the film is shot from the point of view (POV) of Frank’s (Elijah Wood) eyes.  We see what he sees and we partake in what he partakes.  We only ever get a glimpse of him by reflective surfaces; mirrors or glass and even televisions.  I counted maybe three or four times when the camera steps out of Frank’s POV, which I interpreted as giving the audience a breathing room to process, just for a moment, the chaos that is the maniac. 

Making the choice to shoot the film in Frank’s perspective not only puts the audience in the same shoes as a serial killer, but actively seeks to engage the viewer on a deeply personal level.  In most horror films the viewer is always a third party observer.  We are far removed from really feeling the brutal carnage enacted by the killer(s).  Making us one with the killer is an anxiety inducing thrill that is hard to come by in cinema, and that impressed me. 

From the title we can surmise that the protagonist, Frank is mentally disturbed.  And indeed, I was looking for a specific illness that would illuminate his behavior, but what I discovered to be the true root of his murderous impulse is a psychological hatred for women.  It would be easy to categorize this statement as an isolated incident, and that Frank’s violent actions are a neurological imbalance of his genetic makeup.   It certainly can be argued that his pathology is separated from society as a whole, but his criminal animosity is more common and prevalent than we think.  I believe his influence was nurtured and conditioned by his environment: A deeply misogynistic and toxic patriarchal society.   

As is customary in filmmaking these days, a male protagonist is not propelled into motion until he is triggered by the death of a prominent female figure in his life.  In Frank’s case, his rage is released when his mother dies.  Though we never witness her death, and nor do we know the exact manner in which she had died, flashbacks to Frank’s childhood indicate a complicated and often times inappropriate behavior. 

Hiding in a closet, Frank is made privy to his mother’s sexual prowess with multiple men. This also includes her drug use.  Though bearing witness to his mother’s less than ideal savior-faire attitude toward parenting does not turn a child into a serial killer, it does explain the Oedipus complex he later develops that becomes the foundation to his killing. 

If his mother’s hypersexualized behavior affected Frank in a deeply psychological manner, then the patriarchal and misogynistic attitude of society further embedded the disgust and contempt of the female body, which served as a trigger for the violence he perpetrated. 

His obsession with mannequins also gives insight to how he views his kills.  To transfer his projections of the women onto inanimate objects, his desire is to manipulate and exert a sense of control.  He turns the women into mannequins in the same way an art collector buys auctioned paintings: to have possession.  They are no real to him until he has killed and scalped them and placed them rightfully in his collection. 

But perhaps, in a startling scene, Frank’s violence toward women is best depicted in his own deteriorating view of himself.  Looking in the mirror, Frank is horrified to see his genitalia has been replaced by the ambiguous bottom half of a mannequin.  It’s a scene that has strong indication of his presumed sexual impotence.   His sexual release does not come unless he is inflicting brutal violence toward the women he stalks.

As I said before, it is easy to write Frank’s behavior off as an individualized pathology completely dissociated from society, but what this film underlines is that in defining rigid forms of masculinity within the vortex of gender binary, and making sexual promiscuity an imperative aspect of manhood, the system of patriarchy distinguishes as it condones male violence as virtuous traits that often carve a path to violence. 

There is a depth of sociological understanding that goes beyond this review, but as far as the film is concerned, the level of performance and gore is unlike I have seen.  I recommend this Netflix pick for those interested in horror films that are not campy or cheesy.  This film is also not for the faint of heart. Enjoy.  

Charlie Countryman Film Review

Charlie Countryman is a thriller romance that takes place in Bucharest, Romania.  It follows a young man, as the title suggests, by the name of Charlie Countryman (Shia LaBeouf) on his path to self discovery.  However, what he finds is love amid peril business of Romanian gangster. 

After the death of his mother – an overused an tiresome plot device in every damn male lead film – he flies to Bucharest and finds his path cross with a chic Romanian cellist, Gabi (Evan Rachel Wood).  Unbeknownst to him, Gabi – an artist with a complex history – is married, but separated from a well known ruffian named Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen). 

The construction of Charlie’s masculinity was in complete contrast to all the other male characters for much of the film.  Nigel and the other Romanian gangster, Darko, both adhere to a hegemonic masculine bravado that encompasses traits of obsession, violence, sociopath, possessiveness, and controlling behavior. 

The two hostel roommates Charlie bunk with environ their masculinity with sexual prowess and drug use, but Charlie, though not immune to male pomposity, was poised with kindness and compassion and a dash of honesty we rarely see in male characters.  In many ways he is the opposite of the hyper masculine men he is surrounded by. 

Though the film is mostly in the perspective of Charlie, his love interest Gabi has a far more compelling story, and I would have preferred to have seen the film from her perspective.  I would have loved to see her fight to escape her plight with Nigel rather her fall in love with Charlie. Despite her obvious talent as an orchestrate cellist, Gabi is always in the possession of the men in her life.  Her father, her husband, and now the object of Charlie’s affections; the expansion of her story would have been ideal, but her identity was built around the violent backdrop of her unfortunate circumstance with Nigel and Charlie. 

In spite of my desire for a change in story line, I found the film to be endearing and charming enough to enjoy it.  It was well constructed with just the right pace.  The ending was slightly flat given the improbable way Nigel dies – uncharacteristic and out of place – but overall an entertaining Netflix choice.  

Anna Film Review

Anna is a psychological thriller that uses the femme fatale trope as a tool for manipulation.  The film first opens to a brief description of a memory detective named John (Mark Strong).  As is common with every other film led by a male, his story doesn't begin until the death of prominent figure – in his case his wife.  As he is propelled into motion, one wonders why the film is titled Anna when the film is mostly from his perspective. 

I was hoping, from the title, there would be a complex female character that could illuminate on mental illness, but in reality Anna’s (Taissa Farmiga) characterization tethers back and forth between victim of abuse and a manipulative, sociopathic teenager constructed as a “seductress.” 

I was initially excited over the more sci fi aspect of a memory detective ala minority report, but the film fell short as it tried to also color the characters with a fatal attraction trope.  The idea that a female is using her “feminine charms” to tempt a man – older than she – to hatch an elaborate escape plan is a tired twist. 

Further, the film tries to explain – rather weakly – Anna’s mental instability by showing John googling “teenage aggressiveness and sexual seduction.”  As if Anna is – as a female – not allowed to own her body without it being hypersexualized by patriarchal conditioning. 

The film, in its attempt to force a twist, exploits Anna’s femininity while making her a secondary, supporting character.  John is essentially the lead that is depicted being conned.  The story is more about his journey of unintended self discovery than it is about Anna’s extreme form of survival. 

What is dangerous about this perspective of overt sexualization of teenage girls and even adult women, in narrative plots, is the use of their bodies as weapons.  When weaponizing female bodies’, violence towards them is easily justified because women become commodified objects to be dominated.  The female body is then seen as a territory to be colonized and conquered. 

The point I am trying to make is goes beyond the film itself, but the film helps facilitate the fact that our society fears the female body so much that it makes it the prime villain in a world where men are considered the heroes. 

I do not recommend this film, though it is available on Starz on demand if you have ixfinity.  

Horns Review: what I learned about female agency

Daniel Radcliffe as the horned, Parseltongue Diablo

On the surface Horns appears to be a murder mystery with heavy religious themes.  Daniel Radcliffe plays Ig Parrish, a sloppy, washed up townie looking to exonerate himself from the death of his girlfriend Merrin (Juno Temple).  In the middle of his predicament, Ig unexplainably grows horns, which allow him, in a town that scourges his every move, to be privy to the deepest and darkest of sins looming within each character he comes into contact with. 

The Horns are a personification of humanity’s true nature; a devil mask that reveals what we want to see of others.  The town views Ig as a devil for what they believe he did to Merrin, but as the film progresses, confession after confession the town-folk illuminate their own sins.  Harboring their own demons, they give way to gluttony, to vanity, to selfishness, to envy, and wrath and so on. 

The film slips back and forth between the present and past tense as Ig uses his horned abilities to ascertain the true details of Merrin’s death.  The film is fresh and original as one can be as an adaptation of a novel.  The Diablo transformation is unique to an otherwise standard Hollywood creation, playing with the same cliché tropes.  Good vs. Evil, female purity, and the ever tired plot device that requires the female love interest to die in order to propel the story of the male protagonist into motion.

However, there were two things that stood out the most; one, the lack of personhood and agency afforded to the character development of Merrin allowed for two, the possession of Merrin’s identity catered to male entitlement in frightening and fatal ways.   The film, Horns, does not actively seek to play on the real anxieties many women face in today’s culture, but it contributes, as an example, of the strict and rigid expectations of gender roles.

On the surface, Ig and Merrin’s relationship seems ideal.  Childhood sweethearts that appear to have a impenetrable romance, but the toxicity of their relationship is not from strange, uncharted territories, but in fact, from the prescribed gender roles assigned.  From the start Merrin is pitted against another female character, Glenna Shepherd.  The two have no on screen interaction, but are, in juxtaposition, biblical opposites.  Merrin is the good virginal woman that all the main male characters vie for while Glenna is reduced to the town slut.  That the two characters cannot coexist as separate and autonomous entities without being boxed into the Madonna/whore complex is a major problem.  For too many reasons I cannot write here, giving women equality would disrupt the status quo.  Neither woman was allowed ownership of her own body.   

When Merrin decides to break up with Ig, her motivation is that of self sacrifice.  However, on the surface, Merrin is believed to have acted on selfish impulse.  But choosing not to disclose the true reasoning leads Ig to wrongfully assume she was leaving him for another man, which induces his jealousy.  The surly behavior Ig exhibits at the diner is curiously revealing.  Ig is passionately stubborn about his relationship, and it borders near obsession.  His whole life, since meeting as children, has centered on Merrin.  He has no concept of an identity beyond their romance.  As his ire increase it becomes apparent that he is more upset at losing his picturesque ideal that anything else.  That he was quick to accuse Merrin of being unfaithful – a claim for which there is no evidence – suggests a sense of ownership of her body.  This is not love. 

Love, in the same regard, is also not what Lee (Max Minghella) exhibits for Merrin.  Though he has been Ig’s best friend since they were all kids, he too has been passionately stirred by his friendship with Merrin.  Lee comes across as a well mannered, diligent good guy, but in the later part of the film it becomes very clear that his crush on his best friend’s girlfriend is not only unhealthy and obsessive, but dangerous and fatal.  What makes Lee dangerous is his clean cut expression of masculinity.  The film does its best to create suspects out of everyone but Lee, which gives him a sense of privilege that society condones.  Yet, Lee is a textbook sociopath that takes advantage of his friendship with Merrin, and completely disregards her personhood as well as her boundaries.

When Lee stumbles upon a distraught Merrin in the cold, rainy night rather be a friend she could trust he makes a pass at her.  Agitated by his brazen behavior, Merrin defends herself by pushing him off.  But, years of obsessive love, built on this notion that Lee has always had possession of Merrin by virtue of fixing her broken cross when they were kids, comes to a boiling conclusion as he is denied access to her body.  Fed up, Lee infringes upon years of friendship, and savagely rapes her, forcing his claim of property, as that is what she has now become, he then murders her viciously and violently. 

Merrin’s death could be classified as a “crime of passion,” but in truth this one act is not an isolated incident.  Though only a film, adapted from a novel, Horns reveals how toxic patriarchy really is.  In no place of the film does Merrin or her body belong to her.  She becomes an extension of identity for each male in the film.  First it is her father, he is over protective.  Then it is Ig; neither, from childhood to young adults, knows a life without each other.  Then, in her worst moment, Ig’s brother makes an uncomfortable pass that prompts Merrin to abandon a possible safe passage home for the darkness of the woods.  And just when things couldn’t get worse, they do.  She believes she has found solace, at last, when Lee finds her, but he is neither a friend nor a safe place to rest. 

After her murder, Ig discovers a letter she had written to him.  In it she finally reveals the truth to why she broke up with him.  She had been stricken with the same kind of cancer that had killed her mother, but rather tell him up front she complicates the situation, hoping it would be an easier to push him out like a baby bird to fly on his own.  Even when she is faced with the scariest thing in her life she doesn’t belong to herself either.  She belongs to the cancer in her body.   And as the failings of hyper masculinity engulf Merrin in violence, her own body traps her life a wounded animal shot in a hunt.  The only thing that remains of her is the tree house, now turned into an effigy, and the scene of the crime, which really belonged to Ig and Merrin both. 

The reason I make a big deal about this lack of characterization of Merrin is that our society rarely affords women the freedom of personhood without attaching their entire identity to a man.  It is most evidenced in film, though it may be subtle at time.  Further, the idea of females as property creates a scary environment where men feel entitled to women’s bodies.  In recent years we have seen an increase of violence against women in various forms.  A teenage girl was stabbed to death after decliningan invitation to prom, a young man went on a killing spree after posting a misogynistic rant on youtube, and most recently, female video-gamers have been receiving a deluge of rape threats and mass shootings in what is being calledgamergate.  Street harassment videos are also highlighting the various experiences of women who just walk down the street, which I need to add is a universal experience as this video from Egypt show.

The point to all of this is that while, the film Horns, on its own, is a decent film with actors we can all love, it does serve a purpose beyond the mise en scene.  It can illuminate as well as contribute to the stressful environment that women and men face when navigating through a patriarchal society.  

Contracted Film Review: My Netflix Pick

At first glance Contracted seems like a cautionary tale about the dangers of sexually transmitted diseases.  It is not.  The ostensible twist does not come until the end, but to start the film, it opens to a medical examiner raping a dead corpse.  Already the visceral senses are made uncomfortable, and you question if this is just another gratuitous and unnecessary shot for shock value.  I say this because the film makes no attempt to disclose any first person account as to who this man is beyond that opening scene. 
He remains faceless even when he meets the female protagonist, Samantha, who is left inebriated at a friend’s party.   It isn’t a stretch of the imagination when the unknown male rapes Samantha, and in a fait accompli, sets in motion the next three harrowing days of this woman’s life.   We are lead to believe that whatever this woman contracted it was this blurred figure that passed it along, making her patient zero.

Scary Halloween films usually consists of creepy monsters, evil, sadistic, often supernatural psychopaths on a murder spree, and a lot of melodramatic acting.  What makes Contracted scary is the opposite.  While it is possible to outrun a murderer, even a supernatural one, one cannot outrun the failings of the body.  The virus, still unknown to Samantha, takes on a physical toll.  There is copious blood loss, teeth following out, nails coming off, and the occasional slew of maggots dripping out of the vagina.  The fear is heightened by the unidentifiable decent into a maddening disease that which has no name.  It is not a demon that can be exercised.  It is not a masked madman that can be killed.  It has no face, but the one that belongs to Samantha.
With no scientific explanation to hold the weight it is up to the film’s lead actress to give a convincing performance of a fractious mind deteriorating in physical form.  Navigating through an already complicated life, Samantha, played assuredly by Najarra Townsend, starts to lose everything she loves. 

What I disliked, though I cannot hold against the film, is that Samantha’s sexual orientation was vilified by her ex lover, Nikki.  The film does not make it clear if she is a lesbian or a bisexual, but what is clear is that sexual relations with men makes a woman contaminated and repulsive, as a scene between Samantha and Nikki fighting implies.  It is an unfair assessment, but one I find that occurs within the LGBTQA community.  Take the words of out bisexual Megan Fox – when stating her bisexuality she said she would not date a bisexual woman because “that means they also sleep with men, and men are so dirty that I’d never want to sleep with a girl who had slept with a man.”

With this quote in mind, perhaps what became an unintended theme of the film centers on the female body; the virus inflicted on Samantha becomes a personification of the loss of agency and personhood.  And succumbing to the virus is a more deeply frightening personification of living under a toxic form of patriarchy.  Samantha’s sexuality is used against her as punishment not just in being raped by a man, discriminated by her female lover, but that she is, by default, a virus too.  In any case, Contracted is a fascinating, but narrow perspective of a subgenre of a genre.  I recommend this as my Netflix pick for horror films to watch on Halloween.    

The Boxtrolls: Better Parents than Actual Humans

The Boxtrolls: Eggs, Winnie and Fish

The Boxtrolls is a stop motion animation film for children with surprising adult themes.

Parenting is not an easy venture, but in the film the contrast between two different worlds is a fascinating axiomatic observation.  Juxtaposed on screen are the merger of an aristocratic society and the gutterpups of the underground – the boxtrolls.  In a tangible, contiguous glimpse, the film brings two worlds together to shows us the variation in environmental development of childhood.

Winnie, the town council’s daughter, and Eggs, the boxtroll child are raised in extreme difference.  Winnie has everything money can buy; she is well fed and living in a palatial home.  All things are given to her in ways the less fortunate can only dream of.  Yet, she is missing the most valued and cherished thing a child needs: Parental guidance and love.  

Love is what the boxtrolls encase Eggs in.  Despite living in the catacombs of the underground they have made a home with a mélange of items that fills the usually damp place with familial warmth.  They provide Eggs with the attention he requires and allow him the agency to discover the ability of creation in artistic ways from materials the above ground society calls garbage.  In many ways Eggs is raised as an equal to the boxtrolls.  They love him enough to nurture him as a living being, in doing so he sees the world in a soft, good natured way.  He sees beyond the so-called monstrosity the town labels the boxtrolls in a caveat of annual entertainment. 

For Winnie, the opulence she is privileged with leaves her in unloved isolation.  She acts out in obstreperous rebellion to garner the attention of her absentminded father, and unlike Eggs, is treated as an inferior being that is not only incessantly talked down to, but neglected as well.  Her father is too busy being an ostentatious, cheese loving blueblood to notice her pleading behavior. 
With no parental guidance, Winnie learns to adopt the ferociously prejudiced thinking of the town.  When she meets Eggs she spews, in non sequitur haste, what the town believes to be true of the boxtrolls, but as the notion is proved false, the shift in the story reveals to Winnie what the audience already knows.  The real monsters that prey on the fear of others are adult humans. 

There are different ways to interpret the film, but one thing is quite clear.  The boxtrolls are lovable creatures with a childlike sensibility; each one unique in style and personality.  Children of all ages will love this film as well as any adult.  Stop motion animation is always a wonderful treat to enjoy given the painstaking time each movement costs, and so with that I say, while the film does not pass the bechdel test, it is still worth a watch or two.  

The Maze Runner: Where are you running to?

Disclaimer: This review is based on the film, and not influenced by the Maze Runner series. 

My first question, upon viewing the Maze Runner, is why a group of scientists would create a maze, where seemingly healthy males, in a very Lord of the Flies existence, could be studied for a cure to a virus that appears to have no cure, especially if an antidote already exists for whatever infliction is caught in the maze.
Further, if the idea was to inject the boys with the virus, and see which develops immunity, it does not explain the need for a maze – in many ways it sounds counterproductive.  But perhaps these are questions best answered in the books. 

In a more existential manner, the maze – as a metaphor – represents the birth of social hierarchy in a patriarchal form.  With a clean slate, a group of just boys are selected and introduced to a “survivor-esque” situation, which they dub the glade.  They build forts, a farm, and create rules to follow.  Within this glade, and amid the confusion of their plight, the boys build a society that becomes their safety net.
Which is why, Living for years in an all male society, the boys are dumbfounded that a lone female – Teresa – is the last person brought up to the glade.  Did the scientist run out of male bodied persons or was Teresa part of their show?  Regardless, how did they think the virus would affect a male body versus a female body given that the whole planet is suffering from this unknown infliction? Was there a similar experiment with just females?  If not, there should have been.

In another matter, the boys’ reaction to Teresa was to treat her as an anomaly – a sense of curiosity.  This leads me to question if the lack of poise with the opposite sex was due to their isolation within the glade or have the boys never interacted with females prior to Teresa’s appearance.  Perhaps we’ll never know, but what is known is that despite her presence her character does very little to improve the situation.  She, like many female characters in film, becomes an empty plot device. 

It is an accurate depiction of how I believe patriarchy came to exist as we know it today.  It is ironic that it takes an unimaginative dystopian future to give us a glimpse to humanity’s past, but alas here we are.  In creating societies, building foundations to countries, male identified people created their own form of a glade without the consideration and utilization of female identified people.

Gally (Will Poulter) is the perfect personification of rigid patriarchy set in his ways, afraid of change.  However, Teresa is not the change that challenges Gally as one would assume.  She is hardly a threat to the status quo of the glade.  It is the film’s male protagonist, Thomas that threatens Gally’s whole existence.  Thomas’ presence revives a desire to change the course of the boys’ lives by breaking the established rules.  This is unsurprisingly very similar to how society functions today.  Males challenge males while women watch in the background.  

It has always bothered me that during apocalyptic/dystopian films, having one or even two women in the film feels like it is filling a quota rather than allowing women agency in something as life altering as the end of the world.  The Maze Runner is another film that fails the Bechdel test; there may be, theoretically, two women in the film, but neither ever speak to each other or are even on screen together.  I understand that the book was not written as such, but inconsistency like this does build over time, polarizing the roles of female identified people in all media forms, and as a female moviegoer it is difficult to relate to the films with stories I enjoy. 

As a cinematic venture, The Maze Runner was a moderately fair dystopian film.  It is a series of books, so the ending left on an almost anticlimactic place, but certainly if you love the actors and one main actress in the film then you’d surely enjoy what the film has to offer.  

Dracula Untold: Film Review

Luke Evans as Vlad the Impaler

The brilliance of Dracula Untold is not, as one would assume, in the newly elucidated version, its plot, but in the impacted performance of the film’s lead. 
Against the backdrop of flat dialogue and superficial supporting performances, Luke Evans transforms the infamous Vlad the Impaler from a sadistic, blood thirsty warrior into a sympathetic anti-hero choosing an unconventional way to save his family. 

There seemed, also, to be a great haste in the film’s development of plot, rushing through its storytelling of Vlad’s younger days in order to set up a deflated conflict between two characters whose chemistry had not been established in any aesthetic way.  A missed opportunity to showcase a compassionate affection tied into a youthful bond, especially given the two actors, Luke Evans and Dominic Cooper both have starred together in another film, Tamara Drewe.  Their familiarity with each other could have given the film a familial feel that was missing. 

I was also disappointed in the limited characterization of Mirena (Sarah Gadon), which I believed could have been so much more than a cliché plot device for the anti-hero’s return to vampiric revenge that would plague him for centuries.  It is simply tiring that female characters continue to be nothing more than sacrificial lambs to propel the male protagonist into his climatic battle of the last act, but this is, unfortunately, how films in Hollywood are made. 

Dracula Untold is average in plot, but makes up for it in action sequences.  One scene, in particular, stood out the most.  With a thousand men to one, Vlad, with his newfound powers, takes flight toward the desolation of his enemies, which can be seen through the reflection of a sword impaled inside a falling solider. 

In the words of papa Lannister (because he is forever papa Lannister) and resident master vampire (Charles Dance), “Let the games begin.”  Though, for us, the audience, we never see the games begin for alas the film ends too quickly, hinting at a possible sequel that most likely will not happen.  All the more disappointing since the 21^st century retelling of Dracula with Luke Evans would make more money than any archaic origin story of the impaler.  

Let’s be Cops: Fake Cops, Real Trouble, no Consequence

No, let's NOT be cops

A disorganized version of 21 Jump Street, Let’s be Cops couldn’t be more poorly timed with the recent events in Ferguson, Missouri.  The film follows two 30 something men named Ryan and Justin as they pretend to be cops as a means to exert power and retain a warped vision of their rigid masculinity.  Though the film is not racially charged it is a clear presentation of pop culture maleness.  In deconstructing the social definitions of manhood presented in this film, it can reveal a small fraction of the toxicity of hegemonic masculine existence that can lead to a disproportion of man on man violence.   

First thing we learn about manhood is that either you are a jobless has been (Ryan) or completely diffident in the job you have (Justin).  Both scenarios expect men to be aggressive and assertive.  Dominating other men within the workforce determines your ascribed status of maleness.  When Justin, a game designer, is pitching his idea for a game his boss ignores him to show a pornographic image – “Check out this girl’s pussy.” – To an employee.  That is sexual harassment on top of being highly inappropriate, but what is determined is that men not only must take the lead (the boss later takes over the presentation and Justin is established as an inept character) but their sexual desires must have total disregard of female agency. “Real men” are established only through their predator-like ability to achieve many conquests.    

Not being a “real man” in a toxic patriarchal society means being potentially bullied by other men. Within the first 30 seconds of the film it’s very clear that Justin is a timid man who – like many of us – has difficulty speaking to someone he likes.  But by not being domineering or rapacious Ryan bullies him by calling him a “pussy.” Somehow the word pussy is associated with weakness, and in our society this is the worst thing to call a man.  It is not only a pejorative word to use, but completely sexist in nature.  Yet, this word is repeated on several occasions throughout the film by men who want to dismantle the masculinity of other men by associating them with a female anatomy. 

This level of emasculation is important to understand because it is constantly blamed on feminism or the “feminization” of men – where the logic is that giving space and agency to women creates a “softer” and less rugged type of man, which counters every definition men have created for themselves – but the reality is that feminism – and in turn, feminists – are giving society the chance to recognize how much sexism hurts men as much as it hurts women.  On the surface, telling men that their value is in domination, sexual promiscuity, and wealth appears to be favorable, but it is a privilege of power that leaves no room for young boys to grow into decent human beings.  The “boys will be boys” mentality keeps men forever puerile, incapable of seeing beyond their copy of playboy.  This is how our culture creates violence in men; violence is not an inherent or intrinsic behavior.  It is the product of social construction, and Let’s be Cops is a reflection of social norms. 

Ryan and Justin’s antics lead them, moreover, to impersonating police officers, and by putting on police uniforms the two protagonists transform from “losers” to buddy cop bro dudes that abuse the power that comes from being perceived as authority figures.  They are suddenly above the law, and able to manipulate unsuspecting civilians. By portraying the main characters as failures, and subsequently giving them privilege by wearing a uniform, one thing becomes very clear: Men in the position of power emasculate other men, and later threaten violence in order to maintain dominance. In this way the toxic patriarchal norm is also maintained, and violence becomes the essential ingredient to developing a strong backbone for men, particularly these two men.   

In what I call the most egregious violation of a human being, the character Pupa (Keegan-Michael Key) verbally assaults Josie (Nina Dobrev) in a sexual manner.  Josie is called upon to help the men transform Justin into Pupa with her artistic makeup skills so that he may go undercover. But rather that being that, her character becomes a vessel in which Pupa violates her.  He literally tells her to her face that he wants to “put his penis inside of her vagina.” To some people that would be funny, but the reality of it is not so funny. If a man I did not know said that to my face I would feel gross, but for some reason film writers continually write female characters that remain silent – almost oblivious – to the fact they are being violated by men (same scenario with April O’Neil on TMNT). 

Let’s be Cops perpetuates the same theme over and over again: the ability to get away with the worst behaviors possible. It may appear to be a bromance film, and in many ways it is, but it is a bromance film that condones bad behaviors with no real consequence.   The concern in watching the film goes beyond the childish comedic tone, and into its lack of accountability.  In the end the two men experience no severe consequences for their actions because officer Segers (Rob Riggle) simply vouches for them – Justin becomes a successful gamer and Ryan become a police officer; a very disturbing reality that many can resonate in Ferguson.  Ryan had the most unhinged characteristics and a desire to prove his manhood that it often leads him and Justin to go too far.  I found myself saying “thank god he’s not a real cop,” but of course the film ends with Ryan graduating from the police academy – how many Ferguson police officers are just like Ryan? In Justin’s case, he had lied to the woman he liked – Joise – but in the end, all he had to do was simply apologize for his insensitive behavior and he – the usually bashful and geeky man child – would win the hot girl of his dreams.  This film is what I call, the average Joe’s wet dream; getting away with the most ridiculous stunts in order to test their manhood with no real consequence and still getting what they want.   

If you are not a fan of Jake Johnson and Damon Wayans Jr. from their New Girl gig then this film might be best seen on DVD. There is nothing inspiring about a tired narrative of two bro dudes learning to love each other by being fake cops.