Assassination Nation (2018): Gen Z Catharsis

Assassination Nation is one of the most explicitly Gen Z titles ever made. The film opens with a trigger warning, features teens dropping modern slang, and heavily involves social media use in its plot. Four young women go about their last year of high school as typical teenagers until personal information is released online en masse and they become the target of an angry mob. The dialogue and performances of the leading teens is exaggerated to fall into the worst stereotypes of how the teens of today communicate. It can sometimes be irritating to hear the self-centered, crass way they talk but it plays into the transgressive vibe of the film.

Director Sam Levinson (Another Happy Day) leans into the Gen Z tone with his visuals. He shoots several scenes of debauchery at high school parties but does so with unique methods. He frequently uses three videos displayed in split screen like vertical footage shot on a smartphone that gives the film a voyeuristic aesthetic, reminding the viewers that every part of these teenagers’ lives could be recorded at any time, whether they want it to be or not. The abundance of these party scenes can be excessive and the depravity displayed can be a little repulsive. Levinson continues to use these sequences even after the point has been made. When things escalate and the townspeople no longer trust each other, they begin to wear masks for privacy. Regular people dressed in masks to do mundane chores like mowing the lawn is an arresting visual. It immediately drives home the lack of control we have over how our lives are displayed.

The final action scenes are a cathartic release.

Like a Black Mirror episode, the film’s themes center on technology, disregard for humanity, and an extreme case of what their collision could lead to. The film begins with a local politician having his personal pictures and texts released. They reveal a secret double life of crossdressing and homosexuality that completely contradict his conservative, family values campaign. Because of his status and the revelations found, his leaks do not come under fire. When this leads to horrific consequences, they become new topics for “edgy” humor and memes completely unconcerned with the person they discuss. Levinson takes the topic a step further when the town’s residents have their files released. The townspeople are in uproar over having their privacy violated while still downloading data about their neighbors and snooping into their personal lives. Their anger is contrasted with people, mostly teenagers, not only viewing this content but also encouraging more releases. They show no remorse for their actions and no empathy for those affected. Everything they do is “for the lulz”. Even when people are suffering from these cyber-attacks, they still cannot escape the dehumanizing effect of the internet and virality.

When the time comes for bloodshed, Levinson brings a playful and stylish tone to the action. As the townspeople try to discover, and punish, the culprits behind the data leaks, copious amounts of blood are spilled, even rivalling Neon’s other title Revenge. There are references to Japanese B-movies from the 70s in the flamboyant red outfits the women wear and in the over-the-top weaponry they use to defend themselves as Levinson has fun with their revenge. The film also features the best home invasion scene since Blue Ruin. Levinson places his camera outside the house and smoothly moves around the exterior and up and down the multiple floors, observing the trespassers and the unsuspecting victims from a distance in long unbroken takes. Rather than being an omniscient eye, the camera appears to be searching, and struggling, to follow the action. It reveals bits and pieces of people moving about and the lack of details combined with the knowledge of what is coming is nerve-wracking. Assassination Nation works as both a commentary on the dehumanization of technology and as cathartic, thrilling genre fare.

4/5 stars.

The Sisters Brothers (2018): Meandering Western

The Sister’s Brothers is the first American film made by acclaimed French director Jacques Audiard and is, sadly, a disappointing fumble. Eli (John C. Reilly; Step Brothers) and Charlie Sisters (Joaquin Phoenix; Her) are hitmen in the wild west known for their deadly skill. They are tasked with finding a detective traveling with a chemist (Jake Gyllenhaal and Riz Ahmed; Nightcrawler)who has developed a concoction that locates gold deposits in riverbeds.

Audiard is a strange choice for this material. His most well-known works like A Prophet or the Palm D’or winning Dheepan are known for raw realism in difficult situations like entering prison or being an extremely poor immigrant in a new country. There are moments in this film where his eye for adversity comes through. When the abrasive formula is used in water, Audiard’s camera lingers on the scars left on the legs of the main characters and hints at an alternative tone the director could have taken.

In many ways, the western genre should have been ideal for Audiard’s sensibilities. The somewhat romanticized depictions of this period emphasize the freedom of life on the frontier, but gloss over its difficulties. A film focused on the daily struggle against the harsh wilderness and banditry would have been a perfect match for his skillset. Instead, the partially comedic narrative feels out of place.

Phoenix and Reilly were not the right choices to play the brothers.

The problem begins with the casting. As the two brothers, Reilly and Phoenix bring too much comedy to the roles. The characters are written as a low level hustler (Phoenix) and a big, dim-witted, but well-meaning follower, essentially a twist on Lennie Small and George Milton from Of Mice and Men. The film is cut to use Reilly’s character and the brothers’ frequent squabbles for laughs, but this actively clashes with Audiard’s attention to detail. Phoenix relies on what has become his standard affect (the tilted head, crooked smile, and belabored delivery) which ranges from too serious to too playful for the situations at hand and Reilly’s history as a comedian makes him incongruous in the setting. The brothers, as portrayed by Phoenix and Reilly, would have been right at home in Seth MacFarlane’s A Million Ways to Die in the West. They are caricatures that don’t belong in a serious film.

The script is a tonal mess. Written by Audiard and his frequent co-author Thomas Bidegain (A Prophet), it tries, unsuccessfully, to walk the line between humor and harsh realism and does so without a driving force to the plot. Their initial goal of finding the detective and chemist falls by the wayside partway through and no real replacement ever appears. As a black comedy, the lack of a plot direction would not be a major detriment. Even great comedies often have bare plots as use them as little more than an excuse for additional gags. But because Audiard has created an authentic setting, their purpose is noticeably absent and it makes the two hour film feel much longer. It’s unfortunate that the beautifully realized detail is squandered by the script, miscast leads, and conflicted direction. The Sisters Brothers is ultimately a set of ill-suited components forming an unsuccessful dark comedy and a meandering western.

2/5 stars.

A Simple Favor (2018): Pulpy, Twisty, Riotous Fun

This one is a doozy. A hyper-involved mommy vlogger named Stephanie (Anna Kendrick; The Last Five Years) befriends a wealthy working mom named Emily (Blake Lively; Gossip Girl) when their two children ask for a playdate. The women become close until one day Emily asks Stephanie to pick up her son from school and is never heard from again. No one, not Stephanie, not Emily’s employer, and not her husband Sean (Henry Golding; Crazy Rich Asians) has any idea where she could be or what could have happened to her.

The film deftly holds the delicate balance between thriller and comedy. Director Paul Feig is known for his comedic works with hits such as Bridesmaids and Spy, but this outing borders on camp in the best way possible. The screenplay is full of outrageous story beats that may have been too much to believe on their own but by embracing the ridiculousness, Feig gives the film a playful tone. He overemphasizes character tropes with scenes like Emily’s tough businesswoman being introduced with a slow motion strut worthy of a professional wrestling entrance. Feig’s last film, the Ghostbusters reboot, suffered from what appeared to be too much onset improvisation. Here he has his actors stick much closer to the script.

Even the side characters are memorable. It’s as if the writer, Jessica Sharzer (working from the novel), forgot that they were supposed to be in the background and instead wrote them to be as interesting as the leads. There is a trio of fellow “moms” (one of them is a dad) from the school that offer their own color commentary and are tangentially connected to the plot in hilarious ways. The main investigator pops off snarky quips during his questioning, despite being on a missing persons case, and it all comes together to create a film that is constantly entertaining.

Kendrick and Lively’s odd couple dynamic is a great source of comedy.

Lively delivers a strong performance as someone with more to her than meets the eye, but it is Kendrick that steals the film. Her Stephanie can jump from awkward to funny to determined and resourceful without it ever feeling schizophrenic. She also plays the perky, overeager parent with becoming irritating. Unlike similar characters in other movies, Stephanie’s interest in helping out at school and making the perfect dinner comes from a genuine desire to be a great mom and she doesn’t hold it over the other parents. Kendrick is a terrific actress that has unfortunately spent most of her time being the standout performance in otherwise mediocre films. It is far past time that she be allowed a meatier role and this is finally it. She manages to make Stephanie convincing as she goes from stay-at-home mom to super sleuth and does so while always being endearing and funny. Let’s hope this is the start of many more interesting roles for her.

To a certain extent, A Simple Favor is a self-aware genre film like Adam Wingard’s You’re Next. The difference being that rather than riffing on horror, it draws influence from soap operas and female-targeted melodramas like The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. It takes these starting points and furthers their already ludicrous plot turns to create a thriller that is equal parts twisty, pulpy, and, more than anything else, riotous fun.

4/5 stars.

Blaze (2018): Beautiful Visuals and a Questionable Subject

Ethan Hawke (Before Midnight) gets behind the camera to direct a biopic on the life of country musician Blaze Foley. The film follows Foley, played by Ben Dickie, as he travels between gigs at local bars often ruining his own performances with his constant inebriation. Hawke chooses to use a non-linear structure and cuts between his performances, his time with his wife Sybil (Alia Shawkat; Arrested Development), and a radio interview with other prominent musicians. The nearest comparison would be the Coen Brothers’ Inside Llewyn Davis, but the narrative takes a much more insular look at Foley’s life and does so without the Coen’s trademark sarcasm.

Despite the limited budget, the film’s visuals are outstanding. Hawke and cinematographer Steven Cosens have created a series of gorgeous, nostalgic images evocative of country living. The bulk of Foley’s home life bears a distinct amber hue and even his meager accommodations are rendered in loving compositions with light feathering at the borders to create a wistful tone. The most arresting visual of the film is an ultra-slow-motion wedding scene that is also a great example of expressionist filmmaking. Hawke elongates this pivotal, joyous moment to capture their elation. As bubbles lazily float by and confetti slowly falls, the couple is locked in a seemingly endless embrace symbolic of their enduring love. The beautiful cinematography makes the film an engaging view, even when the narrative meanders and outstays its welcome.

The film’s visuals are its greatest asset.

Hawke has a clear love for Foley’s life and music, but the film Is ultimately unable to create the same affection in the audience. For those of us unfamiliar with Foley’s work, his portrayal can often be repulsive. His relationship with Sybil is sweet at times but is marred by his own selfishness. He is so focused on his own music that he ignores the sacrifices made by his loving wife who works to support him as he screws up his chances because of his drunkenness. Foley’s music is repeatedly referred to as revolutionary, but to the average ear it just sounds ordinary. Pleasant, but nothing to write home about. Foley also claims that he has morals and goals beyond music. He talks about the “pessimistic world” and wanting to be a legend, not a star, because “a legend means you stand for something” whereas stars only exist for themselves. The natural question becomes what does Foley stand for? For artistry in the face of commercialism? For heartfelt songwriting? These might be the intended answers but his self-destructive behavior makes them dubious claims. His disparaging of other musicians and the industry as a whole are more like self-righteous ramblings from an alcoholic wannabe. There have been many stories, both fictional and real, of struggling singers that never succeed because of their own substance abuse but the narrative does little to distinguish this particular story from the countless others. Hawke’s film, while impressively shot, never provides an answer to why Blaze Foley is worthy of our attention or what impact he left on his industry.

3/5 stars.

Support the Girls (2018): Affectionate Comedy

A Hooters-esque sports bar somewhere in Texas is an unusual setting for a film, but that’s to be expected from director Andrew Bujalski. His 2013 film Computer Chess followed attendees at a programming conference in 1980 and was shot entirely with cameras from the era in black and white so, comparatively, Support the Girls is significantly more accessible. Regina Hall (Girls Trip) plays Lisa, the general manager in charge of a lineup of young women while dealing with a host of her own issues. As one of the creators of the mumblecore film movement, Bujalski continues his interest in sympathetic looks into the lives of ordinary people filled with scripted dialogue so natural that it sometimes feels improvised.

Bujalski’s eccentric characters are brought to life by a wonderful cast. At the center of the film, Hall plays Lisa as the den mother of her bar. She refers to each of the young women as her family and acts on those words as she goes far beyond her manager-employee relationship to help them in their personal lives. She does this to her own detriment when the bar’s owner tries to enforce business-only behaviors. Her altruism and self-sacrifice, even as she deals with personal problems, is impossible not to love. Hall’s performance is warm, sensitive, and gentle as she drives home Lisa’s overwhelming compassion for others. Haley Lu Richardson (Columbus) also deserves praise for her work as Maci, Lisa’s top employee. Her Maci is perky beyond belief but without becoming annoying. As a character says, she’s “an angel sent from Heaven to show the rest of us what a good attitude looks like”. Her genuine enthusiasm and “can do” mindset is infectious and the connection between her, Lisa, and the rest of the staff is irresistible.

Hall and Richardson are amazing together.

At times the film feels like it may have been better suited to the small screen and that’s not a knock against the movie. Bujalski’s affectionate direction is strong but his characters and setting are so well drawn that it’s a shame we only get to spend 90 minutes with them. People normally talk about world building when it comes to sci-fi and fantasy movies, but this film is a great example for others to follow. Bujalski constantly includes subtle hints about other crises going on in the lives of the characters. Lisa’s relationship with her husband, Maci’s new boyfriend, and the plethora of other subplots at the fringes of this slice-of-life story would be perfect material for seasons of a television show. Bujalski has created an honest, recognizable world filled with relatable characters, each with their own stories waiting to be told. It’s a testament to the film’s quality that its biggest flaw is that we’re left wishing we could have spent more time with its loveable characters.

4/5 stars.