Almost Famous (2000)

Director: Cameron Crowe

Cast: Patrick Fugit, Billy Crudup, Kate Hudson, Frances McDormand

Have I Seen It Before?: Yes.

Did I like it?: I remember liking it well enough, but for whatever reason it didn’t enter that pantheon of great movies for me at the time. Now, as I watch it again twenty years after the fact, I can’t quite grasp why it didn’t more thoroughly burrow its way into my brain.

Which is odd, because that most profound experience occurs for me as the film unfolds. I see myself reflected in the characters. One might think its solipsistic to reach for those—perhaps tenuous—connections, but if we don’t reach to see yourselves in the characters projected for you on the screen, we’re doomed to be subjected seven or eight more Transformers movies, or the written-by-committee blockbusters that Disney and the other studios are churning out with disappointing regularity. We’ve relegated Crowe to not direct that much anymore, after the admitted misstep of Aloha (2015), but if he could reach into the recesses of his deeper felt inclinations to make more movies like this, it may be past time to let him out of director jail.

On first blush, I shouldn’t feel so connected to the film. The main character and I are almost pointed opposites in many ways. We are separated by thirty years. William Miller (Fugit) is doomed to appear younger than he actually he is for all of his days, while I appeared to be in my mid-thirties since the age of ten. Miller’s soul is filled with every inch of popular music, whereas I couldn’t be bothered with anything musical (itself a likely act of rebellion against my musically inclined family), but instead steeped myself in movie so early, it’s entirely possible my real life didn’t begin until after my family got a DVD player and I was first introduced to the wild world of audio commentaries.

So why do I feel seen by the film, as much as I myself am seeing it? There’s the scene early on where Miller and Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman, so perfectly cast that I thought the role had to be written for him, until I realized he was one of the few characters who really existed) talk about writing just for the sake of it, with no aim in sight (see these reviews) and talk about their typewriters like people in other movies might talk about cars and motorcycles. It’s a small scene, but such a specific choice that tickles the wrinkles in my brain that I would have gone anywhere the film wanted to take me after that moment.

Alien: Covenant (2017)

Director: Ridley Scott

Cast: Michael Fassbender, Katherine Waterston, Billy Crudup, Danny McBride

Have I Seen it Before: Once in the theater, and once on blu ray.

Did I Like It: I’m pretty effusive about the film in the earlier review above, but considering I’ve only glanced at it a couple of times, maybe it had less of an impact than I originally thought.

The text of this review appeared previously in a blog post entitled “But My, Oh My, How Delicious The Cheeseburgers Will Be: The Future Of Cinema?” published on 05/28/2017.

Saw Alien: Covenant this week. The movie flew under my radar for the longest time, despite my love for the first two films of the series, and my not-quite-hate for Ridley Scott’s previous re-entry into the Alien universe, Prometheus (2012). But, when the opportunity comes to take off work a little early and catch a matinee, I am helpless against the prospect’s siren song*.

So, much to my surprise, the movie is actually good. It’s not an earth shattering revelation of a movie—for such an experience this year, you’re probably going to have to begin and end with Jordan Peele’s debut masterwork, Get Out—but it certainly irons out some of the more forgettable moments that muddied reactions to Prometheus, extending the philosophical rumination on the origins of man in a bleak universe to its natural, psychotic conclusion. It manages to be the kind of head trip that Prometheus so desperately wanted to be, without unravelling into a pointedly turgid lecture more at home in a freshman philosophy course.

And yet, there’s a lot that’s even more familiar about the movie. An egg opens up. The egg spits out a creature that is equal parts spider and Georgie O’Keefe painting. A little guy bursts out of one of the human guys. The little guy grows bigger, uses it secondary head to eat a few other guys. Acid is spilled, airlocks are blown, and everyone goes back to cryosleep, perhaps never to wake up again. It’s the same old story, a fight for love and biological weaponry.

Yes, I’ve seen this movie before. I’ve also eaten plenty of cheeseburgers before**, but it is rare that you eat a cheeseburger that is exceptionally well made, just as it is equally rare that a fairly basic monster movie is made as well as Scott and his crew made Covenant.

And that’s when a borderline-depressing thought occurred to me: the franchise movie is dangerously close to becoming a legitimate form of artistic expression. Sure, this summer we’ll be waylaid by inevitable crap like The Emoji Movie and Michael Bay’s latest attempt to make a Transformers film that isn’t technically a violation of the Geneva convention. But Ridley Scott—a legitimate and respectable filmmaker—has made his plans known to spend a sizable chunk of his twilight years trying to make more Alien movies, an effort many of us can agree he near-perfected in his first attempt nearly forty years ago. Kenneth Branagh went in a few short years from forging full-text productions of the Bard to making Chris Hemsworth a household name in Thor (2011). Sam Mendes made Oscar-bait like American Beauty (1999)***, then made 1 1/2 great Bond movies. Christopher Nolan moved from indie darlings to Batmen, and continues his quest to put the genie back in the bottle with the upcoming Dunkirk. Hell, movie news sites were abuzz just a few months ago with talk that Aaron Sorkin took meetings with Marvel Studios for some unknown project.****

I suppose this all means that original big-budget movies are going to be harder to harder to find. For every Pacific Rim (2013) there’s going to be a Pirates of the Caribbean: One More and Johnny Can Get The Rest of His Wigs Out Of Australia. That’s pretty measurably bad, mainly because I was holding out for 2Dark 2Shadows: Basically Just Mortdecai With Different Opening Titles.

But, it could also mean that the big tentpole movies will be better, on average. That has to be good, right? I mean, an Aaron Sorkin-penned Iron Man 3 would be… Well, it’d have a lot more references to Gilbert and Sullivan than the rest of the movies in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and that has to count for something, right?

*See my ill-advised venture to watch this years undeniably weird, yet nearly shot-for-shot remake of The Breakfast Club (1985), entitled Saban’s Power Rangers.

**Probably too many; I get it.

***We could go on an on about whether or not American Beauty is a good movie. It’d make a half decent blog, if it weren’t for the fact that my answer would be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. (Note from 2019: There’s no way American Beauty is any degree of watchable anymore. I’m reasonably sure about that.)

****Yes, every individual named in that paragraph is a man. That’s another issue entirely, and one that Hollywood is working fairly slowly to fix.

Watchmen (2009)

Director: Zack Snyder

Cast: Jackie Earle Haley, Billy Crudup, Matthew Goode, and Malin Åkerman

Have I Seen it Before: Yeah. I mean, I’ve read the comic book, so there’s not a lot that doesn’t cover both spheres of that particular venn diagram.

Did I Like It: Well… It’s not my least favorite Zack Snyder movie. It may even be my favorite Snyder film. But I’m quickly realizing that this doesn’t answer the question. 

Here are some things I really like about Watchmen:

• I’m eternally a sucker for alternate histories set in the 1980s. Ultimately, this is going to be granddaddy of that very niche genre.

• I’m eternally a sucker for characters who can’t/won’t see time in a linear fashion. Billy Pilgrim, The Doctor, Doc Brown, Doctor Manhattan. They are all my kind of folks.

• The Owlship is a neat vehicle unlike anything seen before or since in comicdom.

• It’s always worth engaging in a story with no easy answers. Morally reprehensible characters have a point. Likable people make awful choices.

• The costume choices made in the film subtly hints at the costume design of the Batman films in the 1990s. The armor Ozymandias (Matthew Goode) even has nipples.

Look at that, I eventually got to something I like about the film. There isn’t much there, sadly.

While reading Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ original Watchmen comic, I was struck by how good the work is. How comprehensive. How fully-realized. How dense, but in a good way. 

And I remembered how much I didn’t think the movie lived up to that promise. However, now that the film has no sense of anticipation hover around it, it must have improved with age, no?

Sadly, no is right. I went for the Ultimate Cut in this viewing, rationalizing that perhaps with more of Moore and Gibbons’ work injected into the proceedings, things will have improved even more still. Not so, as Snyder’s insistence on transcription is only offset by some his truly baffling choices when he takes a swing at adaptation. Snyder probably shouldn’t shoulder all of the blame for the misfire, as Moore really intended for the work to be unadaptable and appears to have largely succeeded. It is entirely possible that there isn’t a cinematic version of this story that works. The forthcoming HBO series may or may not prove me wrong on that one

Also, I have a confession: I have never quite understood why Tales of The Black Freighter is such an essential part of the story in any format, beyond driving home the fact that in a world where superheroes were real, people would search for escapism in some other kind of story. Sure, there are some parallel qualities to the two stories, but beyond that it just added some depth to frames including Bernard (Jesse Reid). Now with all of the side story cut into the film, everything is just a longer and feels that way, with two feature-length movies fighting for screen time. Even the comic realized a little bit of Black Freighter goes a long way.

I’ve never seen a filmmaker who so wildly veers between tone deaf musical choices, and cues that are way too on the nose. In one of his better sequences—incidentally, the one where there is the most adaptation over transcription—over the montage opening credits, Bob Dylan’s “The Times They Are a-Changin’” pins the tail right on the donkey. On the other end of things, Wagner blaring over the conclusion of the Vietnam War makes me feel like I’ve seen this movie before, because I have. The less said about Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” over the Owlship sex scene, the better off we all are*. I’m not sure why “99 Luftballoons” or “The Sound of Silence” are in this movie, other than they are both catchy and at least one of them would have gotten some serious FM play in 1985.

The cast is all over the place, sadly. Haley does yeoman’s work holding the movie together as what turns out to be the protagonist. Jeffery Dean Morgan—a good actor—is so earnest in every scene he inhabits that the earlier moral ghoulishness never comes across. Billy Crudup is supposed to be sleepwalking through the film, but I can’t quite figure out why everyone else decided to do the same thing.

Snyder may be a good director, but until he makes a film that isn’t irritating at its core, I’m not sure anyone is going to believe it.

*Okay, you want to talk about it? I challenge you to find a more awkward, uncomfortable sex scene in a movie. I don’t want to sound like a prude, but I just got embarrassed with its wanton earnestness. The comic book didn’t have that, I assure you.