My Ten Favorite Performances of the Year

Hello all! Merry Christmas Mr. Potter! And a happy new year...in jail! (I keep saying this to people and they don't get it. A little distressing, cause I love saying it as a holiday greeting.) Anyway, did you all now that I have been blogging here at ClassicForever for 10 years now? I was once just an eager 14-year-old joker branching off with dreams of a media empire. Anyway, you'll be hearing more about me and the internet and film soon (when I actually write the post). 

In the mean time, here are ten of my favorite performances of 2018. I have not watched all I need to see in 2018, and my actual "Favorite Films" list will probably pop up closer to February, but here is a little glimpse into some of my loves of the year. They are not exactly ranked, but they are also not exactly unranked. It's all rather vague, yet typical of me. Some of these films may pop up in my best of 2018 list; and some of these will absolutely not show up in my best of 2018. These are performances that struck me for one reason or another. I love them all!  I will keep spoilers out of my little write-ups, I guess. 

Rachel Weisz as Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough in The Favourite (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)

So, all the ladies of The Favourite are excellent (even Emma Stone, who I do not usually overly appreciate is great here). In fact, they are so excellent that they cover for a less-than-stellar film, but I have to talk primarily about my one true queen, Rachel Weisz. She is extraordinary in a character that could have gone so wrong in nearly anyone else's hands. She glides along a thin line throughout the film between antagonist and protagonist (I mean, she was always THE protagonist in MY heart). And, she does it with such ease. There is a depth and fullness to her Sarah that is vital to the entire soul of the film. She is harsh, fun, clever, bold, mischievous, unyielding, and--above all--honest. *heart eyes*

Steven Yeun as Ben in Burning (dir. Lee Chang-dong)

It is nearly impossible to say much about this film without taking away some of the viewing experience. Make no mistake though, this is not really a twisty-turny thriller in the sense that there is no "wow omg plot-twist" that once learned ruins viewing appreciation. Still, it is a steady and slow, ahem, burn, so I will not say much at all. Steven Yeun is an actor I talk about while frequently using the prefix "my beloved" Steven Yeun, so I was quite exited to see him take on this role. He has talked about how meaningful it was to be in a Korean film, as he is frequently the only Korean person on film sets (if not the only POC on set). I am glad he was able to feel so fulfilled making this, because it shows through in his bold and unhampered work. That sweet, sweet smile though. 

Cynthia Erivo as Darlene Sweet in Bad Times at the El Royale (dir. Drew Goddard)

This is a movie that will ABSOLUTELY not be on my end-of-year list of good movies. It is not a good movie. It is a terrible movie. It is freakishly long and feels every minute of it, and I literally hated nearly every single character. Nearly. In the midst of the garbage (and Chris Hemsworth as a cult leader, which was actually a lot of fun), Cynthia Erivo utterly shines. I LOVE DARLENE SWEET. Her face says every moment of pain, sadness, and frustration. And, she keeps on going. Cynthia Erivo also sings throughout the entire movie--which is honestly too incredible for words. AND I LOVE HER IN THE GREEN SEQUINED DRESS. (CE also stole the show in Widows, and is just so cool and beautiful and hardcore. ahhh!) 

John Cho as David Kim in Searching (dir. Aneesh Chaganty)

You all know I live for good dads on film. John Cho as David Kim is a v. good dad. Such care and attention and relentless love. Also, the amount of incredibly engaging and empathetic work Cho is able to do via literally webcams and Facetime is SHOCKING. Why are you all sleeping on John Cho? GIVE HIM EVERYTHING. 

Keira Knightley as The Sugarplum Fairy in The Nutcracker and the Four Realms (dirs. Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston ) and Colette in Colette (dir. Wash Westmoreland) 

It's a cheat, but I could not decide which 2018 Keira performance I loved more, so they are tied. As Colette, she is all Keira: stunning, mesmerizing, impacting, and delightful. She lifts a wretchedly written/directed biopic through sheer force of her Keiraness. She is Colette. As The Sugarplum Fairy, she also lifts a wretchedly written/directed film through sheer force--but not exactly force of Keiraness. It is a very atypical Keira (but also not wholly unexpected if you have been following her career since you were ten-years-old--and I have been). The choices she makes can only be described as "all of them." My jaw is dropped and mouth agog at what she does, and was allowed to do in this Disney film? Watch it for her! You will not be disappointed. Don't make me bani-shed you from my blog. 

Tom Hardy as Eddie Brock in Venom (dir. Ruben Fleischer)

I have already written waaaay too much about Venom, but oh me oh my, I love Tom Hardy in this so much. I cannot think of a more unexpectedly glorious moment in my filmgoing experiences this year than Tom Hardy as Eddie Brock. You have not truly lived until you have seen him stumbling around shushing people and jumping into live lobster tanks. Also, the tears! The mumbling! What a v. sweet boy!

Blake Lively as Emily Nelson in A Simple Favor (dir. Paul Feig) 

If this was a different movie, perhaps Blake Lively would be in consideration for acting awards. Come on, at least a Golden Globe for Comedy/Musical! Not only does she waltz through this movie in an incredible array of three-piece suits, she commands the screen in every single scene. I could not take my eyes away. 

Maggie Malubwa as Shula in I Am Not a Witch (dir. Rungano Nyoni)

This is an extraordinary, perfect film, and I cannot wait to rep it even further when I write about the best films of 2018. But, here, I want to highlight Maggie Malubwa. As Shula, she gives us one of the best child performances ever. She is mostly silent, and has no large or obvious expressions. Yet, she compels with her eyes. Malubwa's performance brings you in way too deep to not take up your entire mind and heart while viewing the film. I look so forward to seeing more from her. 

Ben Whishaw as Paddington in Paddington 2 (dir. Paul King)

BEN WHISHAW AND HIS ROGUE HAIR HAVE DONE IT AGAIN. It is no secret that Ben Whishaw is clearly and objectively the greatest actor of his generation obviously. With his Paddington, he so clearly cements his place. His voice performance stuns. It's all the deepest feelings that come from true kindness and true love for all people expressed in inflections and tones. Paddington 2 is possibly the best film of 2018 (you will have to wait to find out), but it would be nothing without Ben's work. I am literally crying over here thinking about it, okay. You beautiful, beautiful sweet boy. 

Colman Domingo as Joseph Rivers in If Beale Street Could Talk (dir. Barry Jenkins)

Literally every performance in Beale Street is excellent. Every character is perfectly cast, and every actor gives us almost too much. The empathy on view is overwhelming: devastating and restoring. While every role is expressed without flaw, I wanted to particularly highlight Colman Domingo's work, because I think it is less likely to receive the same consideration and praise as some of his co-stars are (rightfully) receiving. His Joseph Rivers is a good dad, and the vulnerability and steadfastness on display genuinely fills my soul. When he is onscreen, you feel okay--like things are going to be okay. Watching Domingo's father character breathe, react, and love was like watching one of the classic greats of empathy: a Gregory Peck or a Sidney Poitier. Just wonderful.

Well, there you have ten of my favorite performances of the year. I hated to leave off some, but then we would just be here for endless days of me muttering on and on about why Claire Foy as Lisbeth Salander was the James Bond I needed (wait, should I write a post about that?)

Anyway, see you soon/probably next year.  Much love to you all! Your presence in my life the last decade+ has meant everything. 

Venom (2018), or Millie Investigates: Does Millie Love Tom Hardy Too Much?

Why hello there, friends! First of all, thank you all for the kind welcome back! Your comments were all delightful, and exceedingly welcomed. I am back again on a Wednesday afternoon with a few hours off [LOL. I started writing this last week, and then had to go to work, and now it's 10 days later. whoops. classic Millie. I did watch it a second time though, so you're getting some real refined thoughts.[Whoops, this is actually now like three weeks later. A series of unpleasant events combined to keep me from writing this review earlier. Enjoy the fact that half of this was written like three weeks ago and then the other half tonight with no editing between either half.] ], and I decided to once again head to my favorite coffee-shop and send a blog post into the ether. It is very lovely to type and type and type all the jangled thoughts and observations out. And, because I am a hopelessly attention-seeking middle child extrovert, it is great to type all those words out for public consumption and detailed feedback!FEED ME, SEYMOUR! Anyway. I am here on the very auspicious occasion of reviewing that just-released film with all that awards buzz: Venom.  So, I did not know any thing about this film going in--except that it was vaguely connected to Spiderman, that it was vaguely supposed to flop, and that it most definitely starred Tom Hardy.It was the latter that drew me in like a spider to a web (is that a good Spiderman reference? I don't know?). I love Tom Hardy. I love Tom Hardy too much. I sat through all 9.5 hours of that movie where Leo DiCaprio crawls through snow grunting, because Tom Hardy was in it for a bit with incomprehensible accent. I watched Dunkirk last year, and cried because a) Tom Hardy, and b) Tom Hardy's face is covered the entire film (why Nolan, why?! *shakes fist in general direction*). I WATCHED THIS MEANS WAR ON DVD BECAUSE TOM HARDY, AND HONESTLY THAT ALMOST WAS A BRIDGE TOO FAR FOR ME, BUT I DO NOT BLAME YOU TOM.Side-note: I am intrinsically mistrustful of most adult men. If you ever want a mentally Rolodex'd list of bad men or questionable men in film--come see me, because The Millie NEVER forgets. However, there is a random group of men in film I just like without any red flags blaring in my head. Obvi, Keanu is the king of this realm (NEVER LET ME DOWN, KEANU). But, there are select others. Usually, one makes it into the list for entirely innocuous or irrational reasons (Joel Edgerton crying all the time really helped him out), but once there, they have my unconditional loyalty--unless they end up being a terrible human (again, Keanu, you can never betray me, man!).Tom Hardy is one of these male humans! I am just like, "buddy! I trust you! be great!" It might be his well-noted love of dogs. It might be his always slightly askew hair. It might be all the times he shut-down misogynist people trying to make a deal out of Furiosa being the hero of Mad Max: Fury Road. It might be this Tumblr post I saw once (and cannot re-find now) that posited the interesting theory that perhaps Tom Hardy is, in fact, a kind dog given human life by a grateful witch. (8-ball says: VERY LIKELY.)You get it! I love Tom Hardy. I had the early afternoon off yesterday, and it was playing at Cinerama here in Seattle. I get in free to that cinema, and--crucially--the film was less than two hours long (unheard of in the personal nightmare genre of comic book films). I made it happen.I had literally non-existent expectations: merely the faint hope that if it was better than This Means War--I would be satisfied.Let me hold you in suspense no longer--Emmy, who has texted me several times in the last day asking my opinion of the film, feeding my ego excessively while doing so--Venom is better than This Means War. Let me tell you why.First, film opens with random rocket crash blah blah blah. Suddenly, in a command room is Riz Ahmed playing "Elon Musk." I HAD NO IDEA RIZ WAS IN THIS FILM. My heart soared. But, wait, who is that cool scientist next to him? Do my eyes deceive me? They do not! It is Jenny Slate, herself! *heart eyes all over the place, joker*Stuff happens. Likely important to the plot, but not to my enjoyment of the film, so I do not remember exactly.But, then, WE CUT TO MICHELLE WILLIAMS WEARING A SUIT.I repeat: 1) Michelle Williams is in this film?! 2) MICHELLE WILLIAMS IS WEARING A SUIT AND TIE. AHHHHHHH! And, bam, outta nowhere comes the next moment of Women in Menswear Fall 2018 Cinema. What a dream. 

And, oh ho ho, looks like someone agrees with me, because Tom Hardy's first line in this whole dang film* is the following:

"You're wearing a suit. I love it when you're wearing a suit."

You and me both, buddy! You and me both!*Might not actually be Tom Hardy's very first line. I cannot be bothered to remember, and no one is paying me to make these reviews accurate.****Upon second viewing of film, I can confirm that that is indeed Tom Hardy's first line in the film.Let me just say that I my grading of this film may have been utterly compromised by the first five minutes which are an honest-to-god onslaught of things like Michelle in a suit and Tom Hardy riding his motorcycle around while he investigates the plight of people experiencing homelessness in San Francisco. I was hopelessly enamored. I was sitting in my seat eating a hard-boiled egg (I hadn't had breakfast OR lunch, okay), and chuckling to myself ever so slightly, because I NEEDED THIS. We may have put a bad man on the Supreme Court, and we have mere years to turn around climate change before all hope is lost, and we may (etc etc etc) but at least I got to sit in a comfy seat for less than two hours while Tom Hardy pretended to be Charlie Kelly pretending to be an investigative reporter.I have to acknowledge my beloved Malakie for mentioning to me before I saw the film that Tom Hardy sounds like Charlie Kelly (from Always Sunny in Philadelphia) in this, BECAUSE OH. MY. STARS IN HEAVEN. He is not only literally mimicking Charlie's voice, but also his mannerisms, and gait, and hair, and gross dirty clothes. And, now, I literally cannot stop thinking of Venom as an extended episode of Always Sunny.Actual scene that 100% happens in Venom:

 Pure cinematic magic.
Really, cinematic magic is the only appropriate way to describe the entirety of Venom, and my response to it. Overall, it was really, really, really dumb. But, on the other hand, I would love to personally hand Tom Hardy an acting award for his performance. Not an Oscar, but definitely a Golden Globe.Tom Hardy was the filling and the crust in the pie that was my enjoyment of Venom. This joker comes off as 100% self-aware in his life, yet he also absurdly commits to every character in every film. But, then again, sometimes that commitment is so wildly off-kilter and unexpected that on anyone else it might look just a bit like OVER-commitment. For Tom Hardy, however, it works.He gives his Eddie a ridiculous mumbling accent that can literally only be described as Charlie Dayish. His mannerisms are all jerky, quick arm movements and slumped head tilts. He ambles.  There is a sweetness and gentleness to Eddie that differentiates him from other comic book antiheroes (or whatever they were trying to market Venom as being). There is certainly a fully-decided character (with all of Hardy's typical acting embellishments), but at the same moment--it is imaginable that we are seeing just some of Tom Hardy too--the amiable, mumbling guy who doesn't enjoy press interviews and really just wants to chill with some dogs.
 

It is a mistake to think as a viewer--or even as a "fan"--that we know or understand an actor's personal character or inner integrity or something. We do not. Even if it seems someone is playing "themselves" on the screen--typecast again--they are likely just playing a version of themselves for public consumption. However, there is still a relational value to that experience for the viewer; the fan. Humans needs connection. We need to feel we are a piece of the messy machine of the planet. Every act of daily connection reaffirms that placement. Film lovers siphon connection from our viewing experiences. We see things we love in a scene or performance: art that gives joy. But, we also form connections to the people creating the things we love. So-and-so is your favorite director, because it feels like they made that film for you. Whoever is a favorite actor, because when she laughs onscreen--you feel genuine joy. These are legit responses. These are legit relational connections.All of this heady and unnecessary, and likely confusing to no point, philosophizing is there to give perspective on just how I could have so enjoyed a film like Venom?!It's because of the filling and crust of Tom Hardy. He imbued this Spiderman universe side-character with a uniquely Hardyian sense. He ambles and grunts and trips and mumbles and flails and tries again. He is a sweet boy.Eddie seems to have no human connections apart from Michelle Williams' Anne, a woman named Maria who sits on the street-corner, and a local store owner named Mrs. Chen. It's no mistake that all of his relationships are with women. Even his ally on the inside of the evil science org is Jenny Slate's Dr. Skirth.Eddie's rescuer at multiple points in the film is Anne. Part of this plays as the annoying emotional (and physical!) labour women are too often called to over-perform even on behalf of an ex-fiance who lost them their job via his own selfishness, but a big chunk of it is simply that Anne is competent and able to figure out what needs to be done.There is a moment that I loved (the one other line I jotted down in my memory aside from the suits thing). Anne is understandably just like, "what the heck, man. you are out of control, etc etc." And Eddie simply replies in guttural mumble:

 "I'm scared, and I need your help."

Now, that, is a Tom Hardy classic. It's the same reason Max silently offering Furiosa his shoulder because she is the better shot is such a quietly iconic moment in Fury Road. There are other male action heroes who have symbiotic (gotcha!) and deferential connections with competent female leads (just wait until I someday write that blog-series and/or book [lol which is more unlikely] on Keanu's action films), but not many. And definitely not ones who appear as gruff and intimidating as Tom Hardy.

 It's a necessary moment in Venom, because honestly, almost all the actual Venom moments are different shades of stupid, dull, and laced with a humour fermented in the stereotype of a noxious 13-year-old boy. It is Venom who uses feminine slurs to insult (to uproarious laughter from both audiences). It is Venom who commits all the fashionable violence, and asserts the male right to rage. What I am saying here is that Venom was quite annoying, and so clearly this was not a perfect film or anything (also, some casual racism in the connection between Mrs. Chen and the hoodlum extortionist).YET, STILL. I had the time of stinkin' life. I wish I could explain myself to any proper sense. It is as if an AI was told to write a mediocre early 2000s comic book superhero movie, but it got confused and just mashed together random elements, and sorted it in a typical superhero movie narrative arc, and planned to plug on through to mediocrity and indifference from all audiences. But, then, Tom Hardy just plopped into the middle of it--and he COMMITTED. And, here we are: a ridiculous, absolutely unnecessary, 100% outdated, dangerously close to mediocre movie that transformed into a sublime delight (and unexpected box office success).The people love ridiculousness. They love Michelle Williams wearing a suit. They love Jenny Slate's squeaky-voiced scientist. They love Riz Ahmed as a smooth and slippery evil genius (his version of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac is riveting). The people love Tom Hardy!I really need to delve more into this film. I would tell you all about the body horror (Venom's tongue is haunting), and Eddie's ravenous scavenge through his freezer of potato products, and that scene when Eddie shushes everyone in the restaurant so he can go sit in a lobster tank in peace. I would tell you about sexyladyVenom (whyyyyyy), and the dog who saves Eddie, and about all the direct correlations between Always Sunny. I would tell you about Michelle Williams' ridiculous wig, and the delight of watching Tom Hardy walk down streets talking to himself. I would talk some more about Michelle Williams' suit and tie. A lot more about them. Really, I would love to just take you out to coffee or chai or something and just tell you about my personal relationship with the film Venom. I assure you: it's a relationship, not religion. Verdict: I do not love Tom Hardy too much, but the exact right amount. And, no, I will not cry thinking about his sacrifice in Dunkirk, okay. HE WAS SO BRAVE. OMG. 

The fall.

Hi pals,

It is I, the prodigal blogging child, returning once again to the scenes of my greatest triumph (if you call spending the entirety of one's teen years blogging about Gidget and Godzilla and Ralph Meeker at 3AM a triumph--AND I DO!).

I have to tell you. I never make New Years Resolutions. I just do not think about it. But, this year, 2018, I decided to make a resolution. I would write something--either here or on my personal site--once a week. Just something. I needed a creative outlet while caught in the midst of a very stressful and demanding job. Well, lolz, that has not happened.

My creative output has almost completely been limited to writing pithy Insta captions like three times a day about random thoughts that fly through my brain (mainly about any time I do anything with my cool friends, and also about how Messi and Suarez love each other, and sometimes about movie things), and also to writing Letterboxd reviews (you can read a review for every single film I have watched this year--no matter how embarrassing).

But, I have truly missed you all. I have a million and one hot-take essays bubbling in my brain. But, I am also tired--so very tired. It is a cliche, but the world is a mess. I take it quite to heart. I have known the world is mess since I have known the world, but even so I lived with a little hope. Example: I could watch the ending of Children of Men (2006) and feel peace about it. Now, it is just a little bit like, NEVERMIND. WHAT IS THE POINT.

But, anyway. Of course, I am still me, tattooed with the words, "Let justice roll on like a river," because I cannot live any other way.

Y I K E S.

Well, now, I am very afraid that I am gonna have to tag this blog with the occasionally used "Millie's being maudlin again." Whoops.

LOVE YOU! *insert kiss emoji*

I cannot promise that I am  really back, but look, I am using a rare afternoon off (the first in a few weeks) to talk to all of you, because I am chilling on a lovely autumn at my favorite coffee shop and it seemed the thing to do. (If I post a photo of my hair--we will have completed a classic Millie narcissism brace. Speaking of classic braces--Messi completed one against Tottenham this afternoon with some help from Suarez, BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH).

Anyway.

I saw Lizzie (2018) this morning. Not so good. AT ALL. Chloe Sevigney and KStew were good in it, but like, what was the point, and why was it directed by a man? SHEESH. I didn't even get any women in menswear moments. (And, also, I got carded for being possibly under-17, because the box office guy said I had "a very youthful look." UGHHHH.)

Cinematic women in menswear have been having a MOMENT this fall, and wow just be still my beating heart.

Out this week, Colette (2018) gave us Keira Knightley killing the suit game. Although, cruelly, it was only for a few moments in the span of the film (I blame the man directing this film for this egregious error, and also for the other egregious problems with this film--none of which have to do with Keira's stunning, magnetic performance).

Also, though, check out Keira at the Sundance premiere giving us Joel Grey in Cabaret realness.

Anyway, love you, Keira! Thank you for being you! 

To the rest of you peasants: I don't necessarily recommend rushing out to watch this in cinemas, but def check it out at home later. If only to spare yourself the difficulty of containing your laughter in public as my beloved and dear Eleanor Tomlinson attempts a Louisiana accent (my goodness! Darling, no!).

However, earlier in September, we were all rewarded with Blake Lively exclusively in menswear for almost the entire duration of A Simple Favor (2018)--a film I actually severely recommend if you enjoy delicious ridiculousness and/or looking at Blake Lively in menswear. 

^possibly my current phone lockscreen background (I am a young professional with the mobile to match.)

I have hopes for the next women in menswear Fall '18 cinematic moment! But, where will it come from next? Send in your confidential tips to my Insta DMs (I hope we all know that I have not checked this blog's email in at least two years). 

This seems as good a moment as any to mention that a couple of weeks ago I was dressing for the day and grabbed a shirt I had bought at the thrift store a few weeks ago for an dress-as-your-favorite-flavor-of-White-Claw party (Ruby Grapefruit, fyi) I attended.

I realized then, what I hadn't realized before, which is that it was a ruffly white shirt straight from Roger Moore's 1971 closet.

^this is me attempting unsuccessfully to raise one eyebrow. I am no Eunice Gayson. *sigh*

The real shock of this situation though was that I took this photo before I left for work and then tried to find an image of Sir Rog in a ruffly shirt on the Google to pair it with for an inevitable Insta post, AND COULD NOT. How is that even possible?! He wore nothing else for like three years, but whatever. This recap is mainly a brag that I totes am ready to star in a remake of Crossplot (1969), and also I have been completely let down by Google Image Search. 

Anyway.

Also, btw, on August 5th, I tripped off a curb crossing the street--and then couldn't walk for a whole month, and I am still in an ankle brace as we speak. (Speaking of a brace, let me remind you again about the beautiful brace Messi completed today with the selfless help of his #1 bro Luis.) I had a pretty chill knee scooter I used to navigate around my world--but, man, Seattle HAS A LOT OF HILLS. I still feel a cold sweat about going down some of those hills.

While I was laid up with my foot elevated and nothing to do for literally weeks (except for when I roused myself out to do work and all that), I intended to get back into blogging. But, I was so tired, so I didn't.

Instead, I watched a lot of Netflix and Hulu. Mozart in the Jungle was delightful (I might love Gael Garcia Bernal more than Diego Luna now, but the jury is still out, and Diego has that new season of Narcos coming out soon plus this video compilation of him talking about how much he loves Jabba the Hutt!), and Castle Rock was utterly terrifying (damn you, André Holland and your empathetic eyes for drawing me in). I also received so many cheese sticks via grocery delivery services! THANK YOU, FRIENDS (including some friends of the blog, like my dearest Casey). But, seriously, so many cheese sticks. Please, if you live in Seattle, come to my apartment and take home some cheese sticks!

Speaking of apartments, I just celebrated this week one year of not being homeless! I cannot properly explain the joy of having an option to come home--and there is something there. It is v. legit.

Okay, I am gonna wrap this post up, because I haven't said much, and I have even less on the top of my brain.

Here are a few things I think you should be interested in if you want to live as me for the day.

Watch:

Dream to Believe (1986)

I LITERALLY CANNOT OVERESTIMATE HOW MUCH YOU NEED TO SEE THIS FILM IMMEDIATELY. THIS VHS COVER SAYS "A MODERN-DAY MUSICAL IN THE STYLISH TRADITION OF FLASHDANCE AND FOOTLOOSE, WITH THE INSPIRATION AND SPIRIT OF ROCKY." YET, I ASSURE YOU, IT IS A GREATER FILM THAN ALL THREE. Anyway. Please do watch this. I won't say more, because I am playing to screenshot the heck out of it and write something about the fashion here.

Read:

The Blue Castle - L.M. Montgomery

This is a perennial autumn favorite. I haven't managed to read it the last couple of falls, so it is coming out this year. The coziest, yet full and soul-reaching mood imaginable. "Find a new riddle, if riddle you must." (My next tattoo?)

Listen:

Process - Sampha

This album is so beautiful, and lovely, and right. It is also perfect for walking the streets of Seattle on a crisp, likely drizzling fall day. (Also, speaking of fall, at my fun job [aka managing the Egyptian Cinema], I made a Spotify playlist called Bob Dylan Autumn [v. subjective on the autumn] to play in the lobby with no regard for anyone else's feelings. EASY RESTS THE HEAD THAT WEARS THIS CROWN!)

Anyway, coffee-shop is gonna close in like 40 minutes and I am already tensely looking around and making sure I am making a show of packing up, because I used to work in a coffee-shop and anyone who comes in/hangs around in the last hour is the absolute enemy.

Hopefully, I will pop in again soon. LOVE YOU ALL (all meaning the four people who will read this, and you absolutely know who you are).

Cheers,

The Magnificent Seven (2016): the Good, the Bad, and the WHAT?!

Well, friends. I am here, with what promises to be an extensive read (on Tuesday, there will a be quiz on chapters three and four).

First up, I will offer a spoiler-free review for those who have not been to a screening yet. After that, there will be a more in-depth analysis, comparison, breakdown of feelings, deep thoughts, free-verse poetry, etc, etc.

 Spoiler-Free Section

First of all, I have been waiting for this movie with deep excitement. It has been a sad summer of movies, and this one was going to swoop in and entertain me to death. The original Magnificent Seven is practically perfect in every way and a personal top ten movie. I was not clamoring for a remake. When it was first announced with Tom Cruise playing the lead--I BOOED OUT LOUD. But, then Tom was out and Denzel was in, and I sat quietly and pondered my feelings. I was mostly cool with it. Then the cast announcements continued to roll in and I was completely on board (the loss of Wagner Moura somewhere in the process only slightly tampered my joy).

The trailer was released and I was filled with even more joy. A REAL BIG-BUDGET CLASSIC WESTERN WITH NO GENRE TWISTS IN SIGHT! (Cowboys vs. Aliens, I am still sad about you.) I was suspicious of their none-use of Elmer Bernstein's famous theme to promote the film, because that is 100% how you get me hyped on anything. (Side-note: My housemate has promised, in the event of my death, to carry an urn of my ashes into a memorial service to the Mag 7 theme, because then everyone will retroactively remember me being just a little more cool than I really am.)

But, then it premiered at TIFF and the reviews started rolling in, and even the few that I really trust, were just middling on the film. No one really HATED it, but no one was very excited either. And, I reacted reasonably to this news--

--by covering my hands over my ears and duh-duhduhduhing the theme song to myself and refusing to listen and repeating over and over, "I HAVE FAITH IN DENZEL. I HAVE FAITH IN DENZEL."

And, here we are today.

To be honest, I would have watched the Thursday night screening, but I roped myself into seeing it with other people. And because me living in a new place means people who want to hang out with me are scarce--I DON'T TURN AWAY SOCIAL ENGAGEMENTS WITH PEOPLE.

So, Sunday afternoon it was to be, and not a moment too soon, as I received this earlier today:

I take my responsibilities to my readers very seriously. I will not let you down (unless you're waiting for me to pick up on some series I started two years ago and/or write that post I keep promising, in which case, I will let you down).

My experience watching Magnificent Seven was a complex range of feelings, and I kept trying to watch it through the lense of its own individual movie--but I kept getting drawn back to comparisons to the previous film.

Because make no mistake, this film is both original and derivative. It is as if someone took apart the 1960 film, separated all the disparate elements, and then chose a few right here and a few right there and grafted them into a brand new framework.

The overarching theme and motivation of all characters has been changed, and it is certainly less cohesive here. That is not necessarily negative, and does certainly work well at many points, but ends up leaving the titular seven as a group of happenstance and convenience instead of purposeful.

However, what this film lacks in overall group cohesion, it makes up for in its individual characters. In this film, there is no character as willfully obnoxious and overacted as Horst Buchholz' Chico. Nor will there be any trouble trying to remember who that seventh guy is: aka there are no Brad Dexters in this cast ("I'll save you Chris!" *gets shot and dies without helping at all*).

That is not to say all the characters are fully developed (I will elaborate on that more in the spoilers area), or that motivations are always clear.

To be concise, I will say that the cast is excellent, even when the story fails them. Denzel glides effortlessly through life as usual, and is perfect. Lee Byung-hun and Ethan Hawke are also standouts.

No matter any failings of this film, Lee Byung-hun's Billy Rocks makes is clear that the knife-throwing guy is always the stealth hero by virtue of being the coolest (following in the footsteps of James Coburn's Britt and Miyaguchi Seiji's Kyūzō).

Now, I really need to go into extensive detail of this whole film and discuss, in particular, this character's glorious hair, so maybe come back after you've watched it.

So, should I go see it?  

A) If you are feeling the need for a delightful 1960s style western and also have never seen the 1960 film and don't mind some story issues here and there--go for it!  

B) If you know every line and beat of the 1960 film, and are feeling the need for a delightful 1960s western--proceed with caution, but probably still proceed. 

I DON'T KNOW. I'M STILL FEELING MY FEELINGS. I don't want to stop you from feeling those feelings too if you want to feel those feelings!

Onward!

WARNING: FULL OF SPOILERS, YELLING, CHEERING, BANGING FISTS AGAINST TABLES

First of all, I am handing out bonus points to this movie for the moment when Chris Pratt says, "Well, it looks like we've got a Mexican standoff." BECAUSE THAT IS MY FAVORITE DUMB WESTERN TROPE OF ALL TIME. However, I am also exacting negative points for the fact that it WASN'T EVEN AN ACTUAL MEXICAN STANDOFF. ugh. sheesh.

Now, the movie started off on a rather dour note. The entire church scene was depressing, and not in movie fun depressing way where it has to happen for cool stuff to happen in response. No, it was like, oh, these child characters are for sure traumatized, and hey Matt Bomer cameo you are for sure marked for death, and okay Peter Sarsgaard you have made an acting choice and I respect that but def not sure why you are playing your guy as a deranged psychotic CAPITALIST. (This movie isn't big on showing when they can YELL it at you in a unique accent instead.) Like Peter Sarsgaard's bad guy Bartholomew Bogue KNOWS he is a deranged bad guy, and has no choice but to derange it up.

And then the credits. And Walter Mirisch's name popped up as Executive Producer and that made me unreasonably happy.

And then we meet Denzel's Sam Chisolm, and Chris Pratt's Josh Faraday. They are roughly equivalent to Yul Brynner's Chris and Steve McQueen's Vin (full character comparison below). Their introduction is not even close to the all-time-classic hearse ride that Brynner and McQueen take, and instead involves a bar-room shootout. Whatevs. Already, the tone is changed from the 1960 film--and it continues to diverge.

In the original Magnificent Seven, the characters are gunfighters--men who live through their guns--who have become both obsolete to society and empty personally from years of killing. It actually takes quite some time into the film to see them shoot anyone dead.

Here, they start racking up the body-count quite early without a sense of the internal cost (there are some lines of dialogue here and there that do allude to it, and Ethan Hawke's character as a whole). This can be taken as negative in comparison with the original, but also the film was tackling entirely different themes.

Instead of a one unifying theme, it seems each character has their own orbital themes: revenge, prejudice, personal loss, looking for purpose, dealing with trauma, CAPITALISM IS YOUR GOD! (okay, Peter, calm down).

As interesting as these glimpses are, they are never fully worked out enough to provide understanding or motivation. This film gives both too much background and not enough.

I still have no clear understanding of what the bad guy was attempting to accomplish or why.

And I also didn't understand why these guys all joined together to form a group. Instead of 1960 Mag 7's search for normalcy or redemption, they just join together when Denzel tells them to join. Except for Red Harvest (heh! I see what you did there, screenwriter), the young Comanche played by Martin Sensmeier who literally just magically (ugh) pops up out of nowhere in the desert and tells Denzel (who speaks Comanche) that his elders told him that he would take a different path, and they share a deer's heart, and Red Harvest is part of the gang. That is the extent of what we learn from him and we also really don't hear from him ever again. Except when he kills the bad guy Comanche and tells him that he is a disgrace. okay.

I dearly appreciate the film's varied casting choices and inclusion of people of color (especially in comparison with the 1960 film which had two white men playing Mexicans, and another white man playing a Mexican-Irish man), but, unfortunately, in the case of Red Harvest, he comes off as more of a magical Native trope than a real person (Sensmeier does great work with what he has, however). And the juxtaposition of his character against the Comanche man who worked for Sarsgaard was jarring. It was a good Native versus bad Native with both given no character work aside from their visible "Nativeness."

Although, speaking of the bad Comanche, one subtle moment that interested me greatly was his part in killing Vincent D'Onofrio's Jack Horne. Horne is introduced as an infamous "Indian fighter" who used to make his living collecting US government bounty money for Native American scalps. That his death comes at the bow of a Native American is actually a more subtle and nuanced action than it suggests.

Jack Horne was an interesting character and also inspired Chris Pratt's line that made me laugh more than it should: "That bear is wearing human clothes." But, also D'Onofrio was doing the acting equivalent of wearing too many accessories, and he needed to look into the mirror and take one off. Maybe the disconcerting high-pitched voice. Like, definitely the disconcerting high-pitched voice.

So, anyway, back to the story. Chris Pratt's Josh is off killing people with magic tricks and Denzel's Sam is being hired by Haley Bennett's Emma. Bennett is the the filmmaker's attempt to insert a female presence into the story (almost completely lacking from the original aside from Horst the Worst's love interest). She was still side-lined anyway, but not more so than half the guys in the 7, so I don't know.

I do know that her outfits were 100% ridiculous and she was not well-protected from the sun at all.

The third to join the seven is Manuel García-Rulfo's Vasquez for reasons that don't completely make sense. He is wanted and Denzel promises not to go looking for him if he helps out, but Vasquez could have just shot him right there and been free to go, so WHO KNOWS.

I did really enjoy García-Rulfo's performance and he played off of Chris Pratt well. Although, I was extremely surprised that he was still alive at the end.

And then we meet Lee Byung-hun's Billy Rocks and Ethan Hawke's Goodnight Robicheaux in a scene similar to 1960's introduction of Britt. We also get to see Byung-hun's glorious hair THAT HE KEEPS A STINKIN KNIFE IN I CAN'T HANDLE IT I LOVE IT TOO MUCH but I also cannot find a photo of said hair in action. I am sorry. Here is a photo of him stabbing bags of hay instead.

And Ethan Hawke does an intriguing job as the gloriously named Goodnight Robicheaux. His performances is memorable and all, and that scene between Denzel and him about the Civil War was a character moment that I wish more of the 7 received. 

Also, am I just wildly speculating, or is Billy supplying Goodnight with drugs? 

Also, I LOVED Byung-hun's and Hawke's chemistry. Theirs was the most fascinating pairing, and their deaths cut me more than the others, but also they went out laughing about Goodnight's daddy "saying a lot of things" and that was perf. *don't cry, Millie, don't cry* 

And, then, there was that unexpected death. Christ Pratt's Josh was gonna be a survivor, I was sure. He wasn't a tragic figure, and he was also the Steve McQueen character, so I thought he'd live (along with Denzel's Sam and Red Harvest as my other guesses). His death was very surprising and a genuine twist for me. 

I have to say, Chris Pratt's performance did not work for me. He was goofy, which did not fit the tone of most of the film, but then he also killed with ease and also called out Goodnight for being unable to shoot--and it just didn't ALL work for me. He did get a pretty bombastic death though.

AND THEN THERE'S DENZEL.

Denzel is perfect and can do no wrong and I love him. He was wonderful here, and he should be in more westerns. And the backstory was maybe a bit too much thrown into the stew pot, but he also sold the heck out of it and I don't care. And also, he did this cool move on his horse, and Denzel + that horse for life!
My final thoughts on this film (and dear lord I really have like three million more thoughts, but I am also very tired and my writing is slipping into non-descriptive monosyllable land): 


That Gatling gun was not fairplay western shootout.

Almost no movies should be longer than two hours, but also, I was entertained the entire running time.

Cinematography was gorgeous.

Score was lovely, but missing something.

The end credits were perfect AND USED BERNSTEIN'S THEME AND I GOT SUPER HYPED, BUT IT WAS TOO LATE BECAUSE THE MOVIE WAS OVER.

 CAPITALISM IS YOUR GOD!

Not a single Horst Buchholz in sight. *breaks down weeping for joy*

Also, after the movie, my friend was like, "I feel like seeing the original. Do you think it is on Netflix?"

Me internally: *keep calm, girl. Keep calm. Don't show extreme emotion. It's okay. You can do this. Be CASUAL. BE CASUAL.*

Me: "I mean, I actually own it on DVD, you know, but yeah."

Friend: "Really?!"

Me: "I MEAN IT'S A TOP TEN FILM OF COURSE I LOVE IT SO MUCH OH MY GOSH DO YOU REALLY WANT TO SEE IT!?!!?!?!?!"

Friend: "Uh, yeah. Of course." 

And, so we did.


Character Comparisons:

Chris (Yul Brynner) --> Sam Chisolm (Denzel Washington)

Similarities: Leader, and first in group; all black clothing; survives the film; both use the line: "I've been offered a lot for my work, but never everything."

Differences: Chris was a gunfighter, but not much else was known, whereas, Sam is a bounty hunter/official peacekeeper something or other; Sam has extensive backstory about the deaths of his family and his experiences as a Union soldier; Chris is described as Cajun.

Who played it better? Denzel is perfect, but this is also my favorite Brynner role. TIE. 

Vin (Steve McQueen) --> Josh Farraday (Chris Pratt)

Similarities: Leader's right hand guy during the round-up of the group; makes quips; Vin is shown gambling and losing all his money and Josh is known as a gambler; Both always on the look-out for female companionship; both use the line about the man falling down a building: "So far, so good."

Differences: Vin is third to join the group and Josh is second; Vin survives; Vin is a little goofy, but mostly quiet, whereas, Josh talks nonstop and makes tons of jokes and has just too much personality; Vin is always by Chris' side, but Josh hangs out more with Vasquez after the initial start of the group

Who played it better? No contest, sorry Chris! Steve McQueen is impossibly perfect as Vin, and it is understandable that they took the character in a different direction with Chris; although, I also feel that naming him Josh was a tribute to Josh Randall--one of Steve's great Western characters. 

Britt (James Coburn) --> Billy Rocks (Lee Byung-hun)

Similarities: Brilliant at knives and guns; talks very little; dies; mostly same introduction

Differences: Britt is white, but Billy is Korean and hangs around Goodnight so that he can help him navigate "the white man's prejudice"

Who played it better? They are both the coolest kids around and I love them. I think Billy is my favorite character in this remake, but I also adore adore adore Britt in the original. TIE

Lee (Robert Vaughn) --> Goodnight Robicheaux (Ethan Hawke)

Similarities: Both have a hidden fear of shooting/guns/battle/likely PTSD; both die; both conquer their fear to help the others; both are "smooth"

Differences: Goodnight is a Confederate sharpshooter, but nothing is known about Lee's background aside from his occupation; Goodnight leaves the group in the middle, but returns to help them during the climatic battle (like Brad Dexter's Harry from the 1960 film); Goodnight is referred to as Cajun (like Yul Brynner's Chris); Goodnight has a lone horse-rider in his sights to kill (like James Coburn's Britt); Goodnight even speculates a bit about possible gold rewards (like Harry); Lee's fear and hiding during battle is known only to himself (and partially by three of the villagers), but Goodnight is caught by both Josh and Billy

Who played it better? Very different depictions of a character with the similar trait of crippling fear. I like both portrayals, but maybe Hawke's a bit more.

The other three have very tenuous connections to the 1960 film characters.

Chico (Horst Buchholz) --> Red Harvest (Martin Sensmeier)

Similarities: last to join the group after tracking the other six; youngest member; "looking for a path" different than their family; survives

Differences: Red Harvest doesn't make me want to SCREAM IN RAGE THE ENTIRE TIME HE'S ON SCREEN; Chico stays in the village, but Red Harvest rides off with the other survivors; also everything else is different 

Who played it better? Martin Sensmeier ALL THE WAY. I mean, it was a very different character; and truly, Chico is a far more developed character with an actual arc than Red Harvest. BUT, STILL.

Harry (Brad Dexter) --> Vasquez (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo)

Similarities: On the run from the law; the jokester of the group; the most clearly mercenary member; is introduced by getting the drop on the leader; Vasquez and Josh banter a lot (Harry and Vin exchange a few jokes)

Differences: Vasquez's Mexican identity is a distinct piece of his character; Vasquez is the third member of the group (Harry is second); Vasquez survives; Vasquez is actually useful

Who played it better? Manuel Garcia-Rulfo takes this one easily, because despite having an ill-defined character without many beats, he still was memorable and distinct. Brad Dexter is forever the one guy no one remembers in the Seven.

Bernardo (Charles Bronson) --> Jack Horne (Vincent D'Onofrio)

Similarities: This is for sure the most tenuous connection. They barely connect at all. They are both renown conflict fighters (Jack in "Indian wars" and Bernardo as a mercenary); they both die saving someone from the town/village whom they have grown attached to

Differences: Bernardo's Mexican-Irish heritage is a huge point of his identity, and his arc (his dying words: "What's my name?" Kids: "Bernardo!" "You're damn right!" Me: *CRIES*); Jack Horne is an avid killer of Native Americans and is killed in the end by a Comanche man; their introductions are very different

Who played it better? Bernardo O'Reilly is just a wonderful, wonderful character and I love him very much. Obviously, these are only superficially comparable, but as disparate characters, I still think Bronson has it over D'Onofrio.

 
Well, gang! It's now over 3,000 words of my stream-of-consciousness processing my thoughts and feelings, and this isn't even everything I think and also I have not edited at all, and that is way too many words for me to read before I click publish, and I will regret all of this tomorrow. BUT, QUE SERA SERA!