Tag Archives: Spring Breakers

The Beach Bum (2019): Hippie Wonderland

Returning to a drug and alcohol fueled Florida, Harmony Korine (Spring Breakers) teams up with Matthew McConaughey (Dallas Buyers Club) for a tour through burnout country. McConaughey plays Moondog, an acclaimed poet and stoner that drifts through the Florida Keys enjoying every moment he can. His wife Minnie (Isla Fisher; Nocturnal Animals) lives separately in a mansion and spends time with their mutual friend Lingerie (Snoop Dogg), a rapper. There is even less of a plot here than in Spring Breakers. Moondog doesn’t have a clear motivation beyond enjoying himself. He scrounges for money as he moves from party to party without a care in his mind. He’s an easygoing, worry-free hippie.

Somehow, things just work out for him. He doesn’t have a rigorous writing schedule, but the words come out as needed. He doesn’t usually have a lot of money on him, but he makes friends and ends up with whatever he needs, be it drugs, women, or accommodations.

McConaughey sells all of this with his breezy attitude. It’s like his character from Dazed and Confused spent the next 20 years doing drugs with free-spirited hippies and adopted the lifestyle. As his wife states, “Moondog is from another dimension”. His mindset is one of a kind and completely detached from anything resembling reality. Some may have little patience for a character whose actions can be considered irresponsible, but McConaughey’s performance makes Moondog seem more like a harmless loafer than someone who needs to grow up. The one inconsistency is that the characters keep describing him as a world-renowned, award-winning poet which is hard to reconcile with his lifestyle. The few times he recites poetry are mostly him repeating the same short, asinine verse that is apparently applause worthy.

McConaughey and Snoop Dogg make a surprisingly good duo.

The film, like its main character, lacks a clear direction. The narrative is more of a series of encounters that appear to be sequential, but don’t actually need to be. Korine doesn’t seem interested in telling a cohesive story. He loves the character he has created in Moondog and wants to follow him through a world of nonstop pleasure. Together with cinematographer Benoît Debie, he shoots his film with two visual palettes: sun-drenched outdoors and neon pinks and yellow-greens similar to their work in Spring Breakers. The visuals give the film the feel of an endless summer vacation. One without purpose or consequence.

Yet, any issues are of little importance. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who shows nothing but childish joy. At one point, Moondog finds out that Lingerie has been having an affair with his wife for years while he was away from home, but he barely reacts. He shrugs it off as another part of an unknowable, uncontrollable world that is never worth taking too seriously. This notion permeates the film and makes it difficult to be bothered by any of its flaws. At its best, The Beach Bum is a silly celebration of ignoring everyday struggles and enjoying yourself in every moment, but even at its worst it’s a harmless, carefree, and meandering trip through a hippie wonderland.

3/5 stars.

Climax (2019): Don’t Drink the Sangria

Regardless of his filmmaking talents, Gaspar Noé (Irreversible) is first known for being a provocateur. His films have angered and reviled audiences around the world and led to walk outs due to the content onscreen. Climax, while by no means even remotely close to mainstream, may be his most agreeable title to date, if agreeable is even a term that can be applied to anything Noé has created. The film follows a Parisian dance troupe as they initially practice then unwind by throwing a party. The mood is jovial until things take a turn for the worse. People start feeling something strange and they soon realize that someone has spiked their sangria with a heavy dose of drugs and it sets off a night of drug-fueled chaos.

The best part of any Noé film isn’t the narrative or the characters, it’s the pure experience. At his best, Noé uses a blend of unnerving sound effects, hypnotic music, high-contrast lighting, and swirling cameras to create a cinematically-induced euphoria or, in some cases, total paralysis. It’s a pure, visceral response that few films can produce  and even fewer filmmakers can consistently create. There are a few moments in Climax that reach this level of reaction. An opening dance number features the cast rhythmically gyrating and contorting their bodies in ways that we know are choreographed but feel like instinctual movements borne from the thumping electronic music that overwhelms our ears. The effect is mesmerizing as it inundates the senses and transfixes your attention. Sadly, this is the only scene of the film that is able to produce this reaction.

The film’s highlight is its opening dance number.

The majority of the film focuses on the pandemonium created by the high dancers. The drugs produce different responses in each person. Some become overly emotional while others become wild or even violent. Very few of them make good decisions as it becomes clear that the film has morphed into a horror movie with the negative effects of the unknown substance as the primary threat. The characters’ behaviors can quickly become tiring. We haven’t developed affections towards them and have little investment in their well-being which makes their blatantly stupid decision-making  irritating, even if it is understandable given their physical state. Mimicking their world rapidly spiraling out of control, Noé and his regular cinematographer Benoît Debie (Spring Breakers) use a swirling camera that is as mobile as the dancers, weaving through their tangled bodies and effectively capturing their confusion. Yet, because of the poorly sketched characters and their self-destructive actions, the intended horror is kept arm’s length.

As usual, Noé is guilty of several indulgences. The film opens with seemingly never-ending interviews with each of the dancers asking why they want to join the troupe and the party pre-drugs features several scenes of dialogue as inane as the characters are inebriated. Noé lets these scenes stretch into minutes long takes of drunken friends talking about which of the other dancers they want to sleep with as they go into excessive, graphic detail for no purpose. Furthermore, there are plot points and character outcomes that are present for no reason other than shock value. These sections pad out the film’s short runtime and highlight how little material is actually present. Climax has moments of the Noé’s best talent of creating enveloping visceral responses, but the film’s drug-trip-as-horror premise fails to connect.

3/5 stars.