The Joker First Impressions

It’s not that we want to relate to the Joker, but Joaquin Phoenix plays the character with such a vulnerability that you begin to feel sorry for a madman. 

The thing is, the Joker as always been someone who distrupts the status quo and aims for the 1%. Millions of us can relate to the exhaustion and insecurity of being slapped around by society for not fitting in, and more so for those of us dealing with some level of mental illness. 

What this new Joker film does really well is show a slow decent into madness after trying so hard for so long. It shows the lack of funding in helping those suffering from mental illness and the loss of innocence when our checks and balances goes unchecked. 

Joaquin is an actor I’m not a massive fan of, but in this case and in this film I found his subtle growth into the Joker very compelling. More over what I found impressive was the lack of violence. 

I went in thinking I’d see a madman on the loose leaving piles of bodies in his wake, but what I found on screen was the violence limited to that which served a meaningful purpose to shaping the character. Each act of violence transforms the Joker like that of a Caterpillar into a butterfly. At first it’s shocking then it’s beautiful. 

It is odd to say the act of killing on screen is beautiful, but it’s the only way I know to describe it. 

The Joker is raw and real and honestly, this may be a controversial statement, but I liked this version better than Heath Leager’s version. Both are outstanding performances, but Joaquin Phoenix brought a childlike sensibility to a scary man and made him relatable.  

I would totally recommend this film. The cinematography alone is gorgeous.  The score of the film is amazing. Overall, as deeply sad as is this film, it is very entertaining.

The Revenant film review: An Ode to the Western Frontier

The Revenant is a visceral ode to the western frontier of the 1800s.
The story is simple. The setting expansive.  And the characters grandiose in the most transparent of ways.
Perhaps the most striking thing about The Revenant is not the characters themselves, but the hyperawareness of the camera.
With multiple close up shots that feel as though one is trespassing, you are up front to the action from the start. Rigid tracking shots, most in one continuous sequence, follow the cast of characters through rugged terrain.
It feels voyeuristic. It feels immense. The audience is submerged in a disorienting frenzy long enough to forget one is watching a film until blood is splattered onto the camera.
You are a mere spectator, then, to cinematic art - one eye glance away from breaking the fourth wall.
It's a genius ploy to bait the audience for you are involved and yet far removed.
The Revenant is visually breathtaking. Wide shots explore the vast details of the films settings and it looks like a stunning oil painting.
But the story is as old as time.
Hugh Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio) seeks revenge after being left for dead by his own hunting team.
He is on the brink of death, and yet, fights his way back through rough patches of nature to survive and exact retribution.
As formidable as DiCaprio is, and he is, one cannot forgo a mention of Tom Hardy.
Hardy is the only actor that could impressively be DiCaprio's antagonist. Harsh. Jagged. Heartless. Bold. Hardy plays the character of Fitzgerald with desperate coolness. It is beautiful to watch.
If we learn anything from the film, through a feminist perspective, it is that of the harsh reality of manhood: in the western front, you either kill or be killed. There is no room for compassion. Boys lose their humanity and grow callous as the snow. Survival, for a man with a heart, means to lose it.  He is to walk alone among the company.
If you have yet to see The Revenant, I would recommend it, though I warn the viewer, the action is mostly through character performances and camera angles. We are used to seeing films in the style of Michael Bay, where explosions take place for artistic integrity. Fast pace and constant movement of scenes that suffocate the films with too much plot is distant in The Revenant.
So it might appear too slow. You might feel impatient for you are not used to it, but watch all the way through and immerse yourself in the film. It is worth it.

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.  

Sleeping Beauty Review: Not your Disney Version

Emily Browning as the "Sleeping Beauty"

Sleeping Beauty, the 2011 Australian drama, is a provocative film that explores gender, class, and sexuality in a unique narrative.  Lucy is a struggling college student attempting to make ends meet.  Like most college students, Lucy has multiple jobs.  However, minimum wa

ge is not enough to make rent so she capitalizes on her body by exchanging sex for money.  What makes this film unique is the company she involves herself in.  Answering an ad in the paper, Lucy is hired to cater exclusive and elite dinner parties….in her lingerie.  My first reaction: is this what rich people do with their time and money?  As someone who has never had much money it baffles my mind when excess waste is done by the rich.  But the more pressing matter is that of female agency and male domination. 

First, “Sleeping Beauty” is not just a title, but a metaphor for female passivity.  The world, at large, expects women to adhere to certain, universally accepted, stereotypes.  Such stereotypes include a demur, soft-spoken, “good girl” behavior.  Historically, women’s bodies have always been considered property.  Even after society, in shifting their mindset to adapt to changing times, accepting a woman as her own person not only disrupted, but threatened the status quo.  What the film shows is, regardless of milestone victories that favored women, their bodies have always been, and continue to be lucrative commodities. 

Selling sex, whether legal or illegal, is a billion dollar business that perpetuates what Naomi Wolfe calls “The Beauty Myth.”  A woman’s value in society, today, is reflected in the value of her looks.  A youthful body of a woman becomes the property of society, and by default the property of men.  But this type of property value is driven by capitalism.  Money is imperative to survival and Lucy does what she can, in her circumstance, to survive.  One way she does is become a “Sleeping Beauty.”  She gets paid, in freelance opportunity, to go under a sedated state while wealthy clients pay to spend the night with her.  A precept explained by the madam to each punter (there are three in total during the film.  All of whom are in old age) states a no penetration policy. 

My fascination with this kind of business is not the selling of sex, but that in the desired motionless acquiescence of the female body.  Lucy’s full participation is not needed or even required for the punters.  Though there is no penetration allowed, the close, intimate touching of Lucy’s body indicates a sense of control and domination exerted over the female body. Even her name change – Sara – is a strong indication that her identity is not her own regardless of her involvement, and that she must be stripped, both figuratively and literally, of her personhood. This brings me to my second point: total masculine supremacy as the ultimate appeal. 

The first punter, before he begins his session, looks to the madam and explains a long, drawn out story – bordering on drivel – how he did very little to cherish the things in his life.  I was looking for a philosophical meaning for his choice, but what I found in his gibberish is a mindless justification for his eccentric payment.  The camera focused on the old man as he broke the fourth wall to center his attention directly at the audience.  I suspect this was done so that we could empathize with him, but it induced nothing in me that had me convinced the circumstances involved were justified.  However, the madam tells him, “You are safe here.  There is no shame here.  No one can see you.”    This is done to validate the old man’s choice.   

The madam, in her own words, gives permission for the old man to take ownership of the “Sleeping Beauty.”  In doing so, the madam invites the audience to do the same, as if the masculinity of the audience also hinges on this archaic notion of domination.  I find the fact a woman – the madam – condoning the violation of another woman, compelling.  It is as if she, speaking for all women, is pardoning the sexual prowess of these older men that with their wealth and privilege buy back their manhood when they buy time with an immobile female body. 

The third punter attempts to lift Lucy in his arms as if he is carrying her over a threshold.  I interpret this as his attempt to prove his masculine worth.  His manhood hinges on his ability to show strength.  Yet, it becomes clear, as he drops Lucy to the floor he is not the same man as he was in his youth, and thus failing to confirm his machismo nobility.  Nothing more is shown of him. 

The second punter, which I kept for last, is a fascinating, but scary subject.  His expression of masculinity is more aggressive and violent.  His verbally abusive tone suggests a type of domination that is more pervasive and common in society.  Men like the third punter desperately try to hold on to their power and sexual aptitude, especially as they age, by exerting brutal and savage behaviors.  In his scene the third punter not only burns Lucy with a cigarette – something that is against the rules – but since he is not allowed to penetrate her vaginally or anally, he violates her by inserting his fingers in her mouth as he calls her a slew of pejorative words.  Lucy is no longer a “Sleeping Beauty” but an object of this man’s verbal and physical abuse, and she is unable to participate or consent as most sex workers might be able to.

Filmmakers tries to push the envelope when it comes to blurring the lines between sexual pleasure and rape, and or what constitutes as sex work, but it is safe to say that the lack of consent of the “Sleeping Beauty,” despite pursuing this unorthodox job herself, she is nothing more than a vessel for patriarchal entitlement.   The film, itself, is worth the watch; its slow pace and drawn out shots linger to give the audience a sense of Lucy’s slow progression as she navigates through her journey.  I enjoyed the film, and suggest it as one of my Netflix picks.