Tag Archives: Drama

I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020): Introspective, Eccentric, and Thought-provoking

It’s been 10 years since the last live action feature from Charlie Kaufman (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) and his newest film won’t disappoint fans of his particular style. I’m Thinking of Ending Things, based on a novel by Iain Reid, follows a young woman (Jessie Buckley; Wild Rose) and her boyfriend Jake (Jesse Plemons; Game Night) as they drive up to meet his parents for the first time.

The film, like the book and most of Kaufman’s works, is heavy on introspection. During the drive we frequently hear Buckley’s voiceovers questioning her relationship. Although they’re initially presented as an idyllic couple, her first remarks (the film’s title) suggests otherwise. In the midst of taking the next step forward with Jake, she is actually considering breaking up with him and their conversations abstractly reference this.

It’s these protracted dialogues that will lose viewers. Some may find the seemingly unrelated and extended tangents exhausting. They are relevant to the main plot but, in the moment, they can drag on as the couple make obscure references to topics like literature, recitations of poetry, film criticism, and even the musical Oklahoma! which plays a more crucial role than expected. Within these conversations are subtle hints towards the film’s nature and the mindset of its characters and Kaufman deserves credit for his ability to convey information to the viewer without forced exposition.

Jake’s parents try to be welcoming, but have a concerning demeanor.

Compared to his first film (Synecdoche, New York), Kaufman has significantly upgraded his visual flair. The film is shot entirely in a 4:3 aspect ratio, likely intended to convey the mental claustrophobia experienced by the lead, and features a distinctive, eerie aesthetic. The drive takes place during a blizzard and heavy snowfall is almost always in the frame furthering the film’s constrictive feeling  as if the characters are snowed in without a way to escape their current situations. Jake’s family home, the main interior location, is an old farmhouse that has a weathered and unsettling beauty. The wooden floors are worn, the furnishings are outdated, and the wallpaper features bold colors and patterns that manage to be rustic and cozy while still communicating unease due to their sickly shades of green and blue.

Throughout the film, and especially with Jake’s parents, supporting characters have alarmingly strange behavior. Jake’s unhinged mother and father are borderline deranged while trying to exchange pleasantries with their son’s new girlfriend and appear to change physically and mentally during their dinner. At times it even seems like the film’s genre is pivoting towards horror which deliberately deprives the viewer of comfort and certainty and keeps the narrative direction inscrutable for most of its runtime.

As the story approaches its conclusion, Kaufman veers away from the source material. It may be unsurprising coming from the man who wrote Adaptation, but the film takes the book’s psychological thriller narrative and expands it into a self-reflexive and surreal story about longing, loneliness, and fantasy. The ending may again lose some viewers but as perplexing as it initially is, the tonal shift leads to a much more thought-provoking destination than a straightforward translation of the novel would have. It better fits the medium, adds meaning to the alarming eccentricities that preceded it, and gives the viewer reasons to reexamine the film’s expertly layered narrative.

4/5 stars.

Les Misérables (2020): Injustice and Cyclical Violence

Opening with a moment of unity and closing with something far different, Les Misérables follows three members of an anti-crime brigade in Paris. The film begins with a soccer match that has hundreds of locals shouting in solidarity for their national team but quickly shifts to its focus: the relationship between law enforcement and the citizens they serve. Corporal Ruiz (Damien Bonnard; Dunkirk) transfers into a new police unit in is placed on a team with Chris (Alexis Manenti) and Gwada (Djibril Zonga). He quickly realizes their methods and beliefs are very different from his own as they torment the community and reveal possible illicit connections to criminal groups. The film is not an adaption of Victor Hugo’s famous novel, but it shares many of the same themes of class struggles and takes place in some of the same locations a century and a half later.

Director Ladj Ly’s greatest gift is his control over crowds. The film carries a sense of unease with characters constantly in conflict. The police clash with the residents who clash with their mayor and with other factions. There is an omnipresent civil unrest that threatens to boil over into outright violence at any moment. Simple discussions immediately escalate into screaming matches between divided groups, seconds away from beating each other senseless. The message is one of pent-up frustration. Whether it’s their living conditions, their economic opportunities, or their treatment by the police, the people of this neighborhood have suffered injustice and it has manifested in a level of collective agitation that is a powder keg just looking for a spark.

The street crime unit is always combative in their interactions with the locals.

The film questions, and answers, the police’s role in this chaos. Supposedly the protectors and agents of law and order, the street crime unit sees itself as the only thing keeping the neighborhood peaceful. Ruiz is a newcomer and is appalled by the actions of his teammates. They are self-righteous, unjust, and actively antagonistic. At times, their behavior is almost unbearable as Chris sees a teenager he finds attractive and threatens to molest her under the guise of a drug search. They view themselves as infallible and refuse to apologize for any of their harassment with a character even screaming “I am the law!”. Their beliefs and the realities of their behavior are shown in stark contrast.

Ly sees law enforcement that behaves in this manner as the progenitors of discord and violence in the community. He places special focus on the youth of this area who are tormented at an early age by the police. They learn to run away immediately, even when they have done nothing wrong, because they know that their innocence or guilt don’t factor into how they are treated. They become the true victims as Ly reinforces his thesis. The message can be a bit heavy-handed at times with characters like Chris being an indefensible tyrant, but Ly makes a compelling case for how systemic abuse by authorities can create and perpetuate a cycle of violence and discord in struggling communities.

4/5 stars.

Little Women (2019): Sisterhood and Adulthood

The seventh adaptation of the beloved book, Little Women, directed by Greta Gerwig (Lady Bird), is the story of the four daughters of the March household, Jo (Saoirse Ronan; Brooklyn), Meg (Emma Watson; Harry Potter), Amy (Florence Pugh; Lady Macbeth), and Beth (Eliza Scanlen; Sharp Objects). Set during the civil war, each of the girls has their own ambitions, lives, and loves as they learn to become adults together.

Gerwig is able to create the warmth and care of a loving family. The young women are close in age and know each other incredibly well. The argue, tease, and tussle, but the depth of their genuine affection is clear. Even when they are petty, it’s impossible to overlook how much they love each other. They have all the inside jokes and goofy banter of people who have spent their lives together. Their closeness is also shown in their physicality. They walk arm-in-arm and seem to always be on top of each other. When they gather to hear a letter from their father, they sit closely together, locked in a familiar mutual embrace. The ease and comfort they feel around each other is palpable and it makes their bonds of sisterhood immediately believable.

The affection shown between the March sisters is incredibly endearing.

The film repeatedly points out the gender inequality of the time. The girls, Jo in particular, all seem limited by the opportunities available and the expectations of social norms. They want to be independent, but there are precious few ways for women to support themselves. Furthermore, the idea of an independent women is itself controversial. While Gerwig is direct with this message, it isn’t excessive or detrimental to the narrative. The limitations are encountered naturally and, sadly, often feel more relevant to the modern world than we would like. Meryl Streep (The Devil Wears Prada) appears as the unmarried elderly aunt that attempts to conform their behaviors to society. Her acting feels artificial, as usual, but she serves to demonstrate how different the leads are from most women of their time. All the March girls are strong female characters, but Gerwig deserves special praise for allowing each to be strong in their own way. Too often media will prescribe a single notion of what a Strong Female CharacterTM­ means to the exclusion of many. The girls here have different desires from fame to companionship to motherhood and each is presented with equal care and respect.

In her second outing as director, Gerwig has once again proven herself a formidable talent. She deftly controls the large cast of characters, often in scenes featuring dozens of performers, and does so while still giving each lead their own personality and enough opportunity to develop. She is a sensitive and empathetic director with affection towards all her characters. They are all imperfect, but flaws are not judged, only accepted as part of being human. Even when characters act impulsively or selfishly, they are still eminently lovable. Gerwig has created a warm, empathetic adaption of a classic story with themes and messages that still resonate today.

4/5 stars.

Marriage Story (2019): The Messiness of Divorce

Inspired in part by his own divorce, Noah Baumbach (Frances Ha) writes and directs the story of an artist couple at the end of their marriage. Charlie (Adam Driver; Paterson) is a play director and Nicole (Scarlett Johansson; Jojo Rabbit) is an actress in New York. They have a young son together, but, due to differences in long-term goals, have decided to divorce. There was no inciting incident, just a gradual diverging that has led to their current situation with no visible hostilities from either party.

While Baumbach gives both parents plenty of attention, he isn’t completely even-handed. It may be due to personal biases or due to Charlie being partly based on Baumbach himself, but the film places more blame on Nicole. Neither lead is a villain here as both husband and wife make mistakes, but Nicole escalates the situation by hiring a vicious divorce attorney named Nora (Laura Dern; Blue Velvet). They had initially agreed to using a mediator to keep lawyers out of the picture, but when Nicole violates that agreement it makes her initially appear like the aggressor. Charlie is served with divorce papers and, without representation of his own, is put in a vulnerable position as Nora threatens to take everything.

Nora is an utterly reprehensible character.

If nothing else, the film will make every viewer hate divorce attorneys. Charlie’s initial lawyer is an older man that gives him circular contradictory advice and seems partially defeated before even starting. When Charlie switches to a high-end option (Ray Liotta; Goodfellas), he is stuck with an effective but overly aggressive lawyer that curses with every breath about how Charlie is damaging his own position. As bad as Liotta’s character is, he is at least upfront with his hostility. Nora is an absolute abomination. Dern, who is normally immensely likable in all her roles, plays Nora as a slimy, two-faced villain that will politely screw you over while brandishing a fake smile. In both cases the lawyers end up costing tens of thousands of dollars to the detriment of the family. One character notes that they’re taking from their son’s college money to pay for legal fees.

After the lawyers become involved, Marriage Story is able to effectively show the emotional strain caused by the divorce. Charlie and Nicole’s divorce is initially completely amicable. They know they need to separate, but there is no bad blood until attorneys start making demands. Both threaten to claim spousal support, something neither originally wanted, and slander each other using inconsequential facts to portray the other as an irresponsible parent. This creates resentment between Charlie and Nicole and results in hurtful screaming matches where long buried thoughts surface as devastating insults. Every part of their arguing feels raw and unfiltered, like pent up frustration rather than dramatic dialogue. The legal maneuvering and the following emotional harm warps their priorities and causes them to fight for minor wins instead of creating the best situation for their family. By showing how Charlie and Nicole’s relationship is upended by the legal process, Baumbach succeeds in making Marriage Story a sensitive and realistic examination of the messiness of divorce.

4/5 stars.

Dark Waters (2019): Corporate Cruelty

A newly promoted partner at a law firm for chemical companies, Robert Bilott (Mark Ruffalo; The Kids Are All Right), is asked by a friend of his grandmother to look into the cows that have died on his farm. Robert, a lawyer that defends chemical companies, has no interest until he visits the site and sees that over a hundred of the livestock have died. The farmer blames the local DuPont plant and as Robert starts to probe further he finds a growing pile of evidence that the company is knowingly dumping a hazardous chemical into the area, risking the health of the town and its people.

Todd Haynes (Far From Heaven) is a strange choice for a director of this material, but he delivers strong results. He is known for anything from biopics featuring Barbie dolls or several actors (of both genders) playing the same character to throwbacks to 50s melodramas. A legal drama is yet another unexpected entry in a filmography that seems to only consist of surprises. As always he gets strong performances from his cast and is able to capture the trust and dependence a small town has on its main employer. DuPont provides jobs to many of the city’s residents and is a central part of their community with buildings and parks named after them. Even when the allegations arise against the company, the people are reluctant to doubt the hand that feeds them.

The numerous loopholes and roadblocks DuPont uses to defend their illicit actions are horrendous and demoralizing.

In many ways, Dark Waters is a more deliberate Erin Brockovich. Like in that film, Robert is fighting against a company for polluting drinking water, but Haynes take a more subtle approach. He focuses on the data gathering, as Robert combs through an entire room full of documents, and the convoluted steps it takes to hold a major corporation accountable. The case spans 20 years and Haynes does an excellent job depicting how draining the constant hurdles and setbacks can be. Ruffalo shows Robert to be increasingly frustrated and almost desperate. He sacrifices other clients, takes pay cuts, ignores his family, and develops health issues due to the stress of case. There is a period of waiting in the trial that is the only point where the drawn out engagement affects the pacing of the film, but even this slowdown appears reflective of the true events.

The film’s main theme is trust. In a frustrated retort, Robert explains that the people in control, governments and corporations, don’t protect people, the people have to protect themselves. The lawyers point out that when the environmental protection agency was first established, it relied on companies to self-report chemicals as hazardous, something they have little incentive to do. They joke about “self-regulation” because they know that companies will prioritize profits over people and even when DuPont is forced to appear in trial, they are able to work with local officials to place regulations that are favorable to them, even though they put people at risk. At its core, Haynes has created an in-depth warning about the dangers of minimal oversight and how corporate cruelty and greed will choose commerce over community if left unchecked.

4/5 stars.

The Report (2019): As Diligent and Thorough As Its Protagonist

The Report is a procedural about the writing of the Senate Intelligence Committee report on CIA torture led by Daniel Jones (Adam Driver; Paterson), a member of Senator Dianne Feinstein’s (Annette Bening; The Kids Are All Right) staff. Directed and written by Scott Z. Burns, the writer of Contagion, the film uses a similarly methodical pace and approach to the material. Like Steven Soderbergh, who is also a producer on this film, Burns invests time in the minutiae of bureaucracy and is able to depict the gargantuan effort required to review millions of documents, create a 6,700 page report, and get it released without exhausting the audience’s patience.

Driver is perfect for the role of Jones. He has a cool demeanor and the commitment of a focused, tireless worker. He comments on how he used to be in a relationship, but the writing of the report didn’t allow enough time to maintain it. In his interactions with the CIA and senate staff, Driver emphasizes Jones’s persistence and later his emotional investment. As he faces more scrutiny, Driver’s responses become faster and more forceful and make it obvious the opposition’s arguments are fallacious. His immediate retorts show the depth of his knowledge and the passion he has for publishing the truth.

Driver shows Jones’s extreme attention to detail and commitment.

The depiction of torture is likely to cause some controversy. Burns does not sugarcoat any of the grisly aspects of how prisoners were treated. The chief antagonists are the self-proclaimed interrogation experts that developed the enhanced interrogation techniques (EIT). These two come from military backgrounds but are revealed to have never participated in any type of interrogation. They act as contractors, instructing others to undress, beat, sleep deprive, and waterboard their detainees until they talk. Alongside them are several CIA staff that support their methods. The prevailing notion is to extract info and prevent future attacks “by any means necessary”. Burns shows how the fear created by 9/11 and the desire for some sense of justice morph into cruelty and how unchecked support of the CIA led to unspeakable acts, made easier by the fact that the detainees were foreigners.

The film places significant blame on those that cover up their mistakes. The CIA is shown going to great lengths to sell enhanced interrogation to the public. They have agents do interviews claiming that EIT directly led to the killing of Bin Laden, using their major success to justify their wrongdoings despite the fact that internal reviews showed that the techniques did not produce any unique information. As sick as the torture is, the degree to which an organization will protect its reputation above any moral responsibilty is perhaps the most loathsome aspect of the story.

Burns’s ultimate goal is not just an indictment of torture, but a reaffirmation of what are United States government is supposed to represent. Committing torture is a terrible mistake, but hiding its use from the public is an act of deception. Using rousing speeches from Benning and real life clips from Senator John McCain, Burns reinforces the importance of accountability, admitting to mistakes, and improving over time. He as created a detailed film about a difficult part of American history that is as diligent and through as its protagonist.

4/5 stars.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (2019): Well-meaning, but Unnecessary

A hotshot journalist equally praised and reviled for his writing, Lloyd Vogel (Matthew Rhys; The Americans), is forced to do a fluff piece on a hero. Against his wishes, he is assigned to interview and profile Mr. Rogers (Tom Hanks; Forrest Gump), but soon realizes that Fred Rogers is no ordinary interview subject.

The most important question the film has to address is “Why does this need to exist?”. Last year Won’t You Be My Neighbor? released to incredible reviews and became the highest gross documentary biopic in the US. That film covered Rogers’s beliefs, motivations, methods, and featured many interviews with him and his closest collaborators. It was a profound look at the man and the ideas he lived by and communicated that didn’t ask for a continuation or rehash. The first instinct would be to label this new film as a quick cash-in on the affection towards Rogers shown by the documentary’s success. In some ways, this may be true, but director Marielle Heller (Can You Ever Forgive Me?) and screenwriters Micah Fitzerman-Blue and Noah Harpster have taken an alternative route.

This is not a biopic of Mr. Rogers. It is about Lloyd’s deeply held hatred of his father, the effects it has had on his life, and how his viewpoints are changed by Mr. Rogers’s beliefs. Rhys plays Lloyd as an unfavorable stereotype of a reporter, overworked, somewhat sensationalist, and always bitter. He overacts occasionally with his crooked expressions, but Rhys does well in showing Lloyd to be a man frustrated and angry with life itself.

This is the main expression that Hanks inexplicably uses throughout the film.

Hanks, as Rogers, is an adequate but imperfect fit. There is no denying that Hanks simply does not look anything like Mr. Rogers. To compensate, Hanks uses the same strange expression throughout the film. He is permanently squinting, despite the fact the Rogers doesn’t appear that way in interviews or on his show. It can be distracting but Hanks does his best. He speaks with a more folksy delivery, like an elderly person talking to their grandchildren, than Rogers did which can make him appear almost out of touch than rather than deliberate in his method of communication. Yet, his values are clear and his obliviousness to Lloyd’s reporting needs show how his presence could change someone, even someone as hardened as Lloyd. Hanks doesn’t have the needed physicality but he works as a vehicle for Rogers’s message.

The film is most subversive in how it compares Lloyd to Rogers. Heller doesn’t just contrast their personalities, she emphasizes how similar they may actually be. Rogers gives Lloyd advice on coping with his emotional problems, but through his actions it becomes apparent that Rogers himself is likely dealing with his own issues as he seems to be following the same advice. This a striking assertion and prevents Rogers from becoming a saint-like figure. That his kindness is an achievable goal is the film’s true, and most important, message. It still feels unnecessary given the existence of the documentary, but A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood offers a different perspective on the philosophy and impact of Mr. Rogers.

3/5 stars.

Richard Jewell (2019): Media Frenzy

In an age of pivotal news breaking every moment, the story of Richard Jewell may not be known to younger audiences, but it is one relevant to our modern times. Jewell (Paul Walter Hauser; I, Tonya) is a former police officer now working security at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. He asks the local police to call in an unidentified package when he spots a discarded backpack only to discover a live bomb in the bag. He works to evacuate people from the area before the bomb explodes, saving many lives, and is an immediate hero for his actions until public opinion starts to change. A local paper reports that he was being investigated as a suspect in the bombing, a routine part of the FBI’s process, and he soon becomes the media’s villain.

The film boasts a strong cast with Hauser up to the task of playing the maligned, but well-meaning lead. He shows Jewell’s naïve trust of authority and his true devotion to justice, but also how this can negatively impact others when he is too adherent to the letter of the law. Jewell is shown as a simple man whose main goal in life is to be one of the good guys which makes the sudden shift in public opinion all the more hurtful. By his side is Sam Rockwell (Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) as his lawyer, who seems to have carved out a niche for himself playing these types of roles. Rockwell is straightforward and sharp, unafraid to tell Jewell what mistakes he is making or to tell off the authorities when needed.

Rockwell, as the lawyer, provides some much needed support to Jewell’s family.

The main antagonists become the media and law enforcement. Jon Hamm (Mad Men) plays the FBI agent that leaks Jewell’s name and becomes fixated on convicting him. He seems selfish and willfully oblivious as he ignores facts and relies on unproven hunches to continue the investigation. The brunt of the blame for Jewell’s ordeal is placed on Kathy Scruggs (Olivia Wilde; TRON: Legacy), the local reporter that first lists Jewell as a suspect. The real-life Scruggs has passed away so there is no way to know how realistic her portrayal is, but Wilde does her no favors. Scruggs is shown as a mean, slimy, immoral reporter that will sleep with people for info just so she can get a story with little regard for its consequences or veracity.

While the film is right to indict the press and police in Jewell’s living nightmare, the story plays this too safe. The legal battle that ensues as Jewell is brought in by the FBI and his trusting nature is taken advantage of to trick him into implicating himself is appropriately infuriating and Hauser and Rockwell are likable leads. The issue is that the film doesn’t attempt to grasp the full picture of what caused the situation. It never addresses the public’s role in feeding the media’s focus on Jewell over other possible suspects and the ease many felt with stereotyping Jewell based on his background. This is a noticeable but not debilitating omission that would have made for a much more complex, challenging film. As it stands, Richard Jewell is a safe, but effective drama about the damaging impact of a media frenzy.

3/5 stars.

The Irishman (2019): Crime and Consequence

The Irishman is Martin Scorsese’s longest film and a fitting maturation of the topics, themes, and genre he has developed over his vast and accomplished career. The film stars Robert De Niro (Heat) as Frank Sheeran, an Irishman who worked closely with the Italian mafia. He becomes a trusted confidant of Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci; Goodfellas) and later union leader Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino; Heat).

Running three and a half hours, the film pulls out every trick available to keep the audience interested. It employs multiple framing narratives, from Sheeran in an assisted living facility, to Sheeran late in life, to the chronological events of his involvement in the mafia, to prevent the story from growing stale and, to Scorsese’s credit, it mostly works. There is a period later in the film, before a critical action must be completed, that it starts to drag as we wait for the inevitable, but overall the lengthy runtime seems appropriate given the decades of story covered. Digital de-aging is used on the main cast, now in their late-70s, to distinguish the numerous time periods and the technology is effective in making the actors appear different, but not to the necessary degree. De Niro appears younger in early sections, but he never appears young and while the aging process is noticeable, it is strange to see that Sheeran never seems much younger than 50.

The Irishman strikes a noticeably different tone than much of Scorsese’s other crime movies. While there is a rise and fall of criminals, the way their lifestyle is portrayed is unique. Unlike Goodfellas or The Wolf of Wall Street, Sheeran’s acceptance and growth within the mafia isn’t, even momentarily, glorified. He seems to be financially stable, but the film doesn’t have the exorbitant displays of wealth, like drug-filled parties on yachts, we would expect. Crucially, extra effort is taken to reinforce the short-lived nature of their successes and the long-term consequences of their crimes. As each new gangster is introduced, a title card lists their age and cause of death, almost always showing a brutal act and brief life expectancy. The tone falls closer to Silence, Scorsese’s story of migrant priests in feudal Japan, with the actions onscreen being fueled by duty rather than greed.

As usual, the period details are perfect.

This change is most evident in De Niro’s performance. He may be the lead character but, unlike Henry Hill or Jordan Belfort, he is not the driving force of the plot. Early on he explains that after serving in the military, he learned to take orders and follow direction without much thought for their consequences or morality. He never seems enticed by crime as much as he is a dutiful cog in the gears of a criminal organization which allows for the supporting cast, Pesci and Pacino, to provide most of the dramatic moments.

The film offers Al Pacino many chances to deliver the kind of performance he has become notorious for. His Hoffa is an overconfident asshole that is always in the middle of a condescending rant against someone and Pacino appears to be relishing the opportunity to deliver numerous verbal beatdowns. His energy provides a welcome contrast to Sheeran’s reserved nature and effectively steals the majority of the film. The Irishman is less about Sheeran’s individual life and more him caught in the pull of Hoffa’s ambitions and the complications that arise due to their connection to mafia. With this unique, more austere tone, Scorsese has created a crime epic with a charismatic cast and a moral compass that grounds the violence onscreen in somber consequences.

4/5 stars.

Waves (2019): Intense, but Overlong

After successfully directing a thriller, Trey Edwards Shults (It Comes at Night) has returned to making family dramas. Waves is the story of teenagers and their emotional journeys. Tyler (Kelvin Harrison Jr.; It Comes at Night) is a popular kid on the wrestling team driven by a strict, unforgiving father (Sterling K. Brown; This is Us). The film follows his relationship with his father and his girlfriend then shifts to his younger sister Emily (Taylor Russell; Escape Room) and her boyfriend Luke (Lucas Hedges; Manchester by the Sea).

Shults shoots Waves in a heightened reality. This is the brief period of adolescence on the cusp of adulthood where everything is felt deeply. The vibrant palette of the streets of Florida are slightly oversaturated with colors like Tyler’s bleached blonde hair and the deep blue skies popping out onscreen. His camera moves with a ferocity, constantly tracking in or swirling around his characters, that is matched by the film’s music. Composed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, the score brings its own intensity that creates an entrancing effect.

This energy extends to the acting as well. All the dialogue is delivered for maximum impact. Nothing here is meant to be lighthearted. Brown, as Tyler’s agressive father, is never at ease. Even in moments that should be playful, like when he arm-wrestles his son, he brings a fervor to his actions that is unsettling. He behaves as if each action is the most pivotal moment in his life. This style of deliberately melodramatic performance, when combined with the visuals and soundtrack, is initially intoxicating.

Shults creates a volatile chemistry between Tyler and his father.

The film’s first half is a tour de force of urgent, impassioned filmmaking. Tyler’s commitment to his athletics, his relationship with his girlfriend, and the impossibly high standards his father sets for him are vividly brought to life. It’s a testament to Shults’s abilities as a writer and director that Tyler’s world is set up using little to no exposition. The relationships are established through the expressive, but authentic performances. Tyler’s arc unfolds explosively with each story beat barreling forward to the next and is consistently gripping with Harrison deftly handling the changes to his character. As his story reaches its crescendo, the film seems to have perfectly captured Tyler’s life and all of its complicated emotions with an intensity that leaves the audience mesmerized and exhausted from its pulsing energy.

Then, unfortunately, Waves continues for another hour. The story shifts focus from Tyler to his younger sister Emily and her relationship with Luke, but the new plot can’t match the impact of the Tyler’s story. It feels unnecessary after what preceded it. Many of the complaints normally thrown at melodramas, that Waves had been able to avoid in its first half, suddenly become relevant. The acting style feels unnecessary when Emily and Luke’s story has significantly lower stakes than Tyler’s story and the new actors aren’t able to match the earlier performances. As a film of two distinct plots, Waves is a mixed bag. It’s an intense emotional rollercoaster followed by an unworthy second story that never justifies its inclusion.

3/5 stars.