Captain Marvel Thoughts - Part 2

The previous post (http://nadejeblog.blogspot.com/2019/03/captain-marvel-thoughts-part-1.html) discussed how the opening two scenes of Captain Marvel very effectively establish plot, character, and theme for the movie going forward, getting everything off to a great start.  Unfortunately, the next two scenes fumble a bit. This post will cover some of the less effective moments of the early scenes, and what could have been done differently.

As always, SPOILERS BELOW!

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The scenes in question involve Yon Rogg and Vers taking a train to visit the Supreme Intelligence (who I shall refer to as 'SI'), and Vers’ meeting with SI.  In both scenes, significant plot details are conveyed through dialog.

Storytellers use the mantra ‘show, don’t tell’, meaning that good storytelling conveys information through dramatization, rather than instruction.  ‘Telling’, or exposition, is most recognizable when it takes the form of narration or dialog that is purely informational. Bad exposition is jarring, because it often involves characters saying things to other characters who would already have that information.

The opening scenes were effective at ‘showing’, even though a lot of information was conveyed to the audience.  Yon Rogg lecturing Vers on controlling her emotions makes sense in the context of the mentor relationship, even if it’s something he’s said to her many times.  It also helps that the characters are active during the scene, throwing punches (and each other).

In these scenes, by contrast, Yon and SI are explaining things to Vers that she would already know, making it purely for the audience’s sake.  Worse, everyone just stands there for the lecture.

1.

On the train ride, Yon Rogg explains to Vers that the Supreme Intelligence appears in different forms based on the individual consulting it.  This is important information and a cool concept. The fact that SI appears to Vers as the unnamed character from her dream deepens the mystery.  It signals to the audience that Vers’ dream at the beginning was important and will come up again. The question is, why is Yon explaining this to her now?  Is this not common knowledge about SI? Vers doesn't react to the information, so neither does the audience.

It might have been better if the film had picked up the cue from the previous scene.  When they’re sparring, Yon threatens Vers that if she can’t control herself (i.e., not blast him), she’ll have to go see SI.  Why is this a threat? Is SI scary to regular Kree? What is Vers expecting from this meeting? If Vers had never met SI, and reacted with fear or trepidation in the train scene, then it would make sense for Yon to be giving her a primer on what to expect, and it would give the audience a reason to care.

The implication from what’s on screen is that this is Vers first time in the presence of SI.  The audience needed some way to feel about that - excited, nervous, annoyed; anything would have worked.  Instead, it’s just an info dump with no dramatic intention.

2.

In the next scene, the meeting with SI, there isn’t even that ambiguity.  SI explains the Kree/Skrull war to Vers. But of course Vers, a six year veteran of the war at this point, knows all of this.  It’s exclusively for the audience. That’s why, even though it’s condensed to a few lines, it slows the film to a crawl.

The information is important.  The audience needs to understand the conflict (from the Kree perspective), and know who the “bad guys” are.  But the way the information is presented, it’s ineffective; it’s basically forgotten as soon as it’s stated. A better way convey this would be to insert a scene between these two - a Skrull terrorist attack.

The Skrulls are referred to as terrorists by the Kree several times, yet they are never shown engaging in terrorism.  Partly this is intentional - the Skrulls are later revealed to be deeply misunderstood. But in a later scene, when Carol is feeling the weight of all the killing she’s done in the name of the Kree, Talos, the Skrull leader, tells her “It’s war. My hands are filthy with it.”  That’s a moving line, and a great moment. How much more effective it would have been if we’d actually seen Talos (or other Skrulls) do something terrible.

Not only would that help the turning point of the film later on, but it would greatly benefit these opening scenes as well.  No need to explain the dynamics of the conflict to the audience; “Skrulls bad” would be the automatic takeaway. Show a Skrull shapeshifting during the attack and SI wouldn’t have to explain that ability of theirs either.  It would add urgency to the SI scene - maybe instead of punishing or lecturing Vers for using her power, the counter-attack mission becomes imperative. “We were going to ground you, but now we have to send you on this critical mission without having finished your training” - that makes a compelling motivation for Vers to prove herself.  It also would add motive and urgency to the rest of the strike team. The witty banter is all well and good, but “Vengence for Hala!” is better.

So why didn’t the filmmakers make this rather obvious choice?  I can think of two reasons:

1. Tone Clash

This film is largely a fun action comedy (‘you know, for kids!’).  Opening the film with a terrorist attack would be quite heavy and dark, and at odds with what comes after.  It wouldn’t do to have Vers clearly having fun smacking Skrulls around, like a cat playing with mice, in the next sequence after an opening like that.  That kind of tonal-whiplash would be hard to recover from.

2. Moral Complexity

Like most superhero stories, this one deals with a black-and-white morality.  It has a twist where the apparent bad guys turn out to be good, and vice-versa, which is cool - not everything is as it seems, and that works with the imagery of the Skrull being shapeshifters, etc.  But showing the Skrulls to actually be terrorists would force the audience to recon with a more real-world complexity that the good guys are never all good (and vice-versa). Understanding that people can be driven to do terrible things and working out how to feel about that may be a lot to ask of a superhero audience.

These particular suggestions may have worked to avoid the ‘telling’ exposition, but they may not have worked with the film overall.  Maybe we could come up with other options, but these are the difficulties storytellers face. Fortunately the film recovers its momentum in the next sequence, the mission on Torfa.

Captain Marvel Thoughts - Part 1

Warning: these thoughts contain SPOILERS.  This post discusses the opening scenes of Captain Marvel, but they are discussed in the context of the movie as a whole.

SPOILERS BELOW!

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The opening scenes of the film are doing a lot of work, and very effectively, I think.  To summarize: “Vers”, aka Carol Danvers, (Brie Larson) wakes from a disturbing dream and goes to knock on the door of Yon Rogg (Jude Law).  He is familiar with her sleep dysfunction, and they go off to spar as a distraction for her. He warns her to control her unusual power by keeping her emotions in check, and she fails to do so, blasting him across the room.

There are a lot of layers here.

1.

The way they talk to each other when she knocks on his door is familiar, friendly, even flirty.  They’re in his bedroom, in their sleep clothes. She’s woken him in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep and is looking for a distraction.  In another movie, or with another character, this would be a booty call. I almost laughed when she said “You wanna fight?” as ‘fight’ seemed to be standing in for another f-word.

But the movie subverts this hetero-normative expectation.  There is never any romantic interest between these two characters.  Carol wants to train because she’s always pushing herself, and Yon Rogg cultivates his mentor role to take advantage of her power for his own ends.

This scene is recalled again later, when Maria is recounting how Carol waking HER up in the middle of the night was a common occurrence as well.  And if there’s an implication of romance in the first scene, why not also in the latter?

2.

Carol’s memory loss is established here, and amnesia is a tricky narrative device.  We know at some point she will recover her memories. There are two ways this could go badly: she might find that she’s a completely different person, in which case any character work done up to that point is essentially wasted, or she might act as a cipher, devoid of personality, up until that point, in which case all that time is still wasted - spent with a nonentity.

The movie thankfully side steps these problems by having Carol just be Carol the whole time. Her character comes across strongly in this opening sequence, and it is consistent with who she ends up having been in the first place: she’s assertive, confident, flippant, competitive, and very powerful.  Despite all that, she doesn’t put herself above others. She wants to learn and excel. She wants to serve.

Even without her memories, and with six years of brainwashing (or at least heavy gaslighting), her personality is intact.  This complements the idea presented later in the film that even without her magical powers, she has plenty of power on her own.

3.

The struggle against the Patriarchy is here in full force, and Yon Rogg throws every trick in the book at her.  He pretends to build her up by knocking her down: he says he wants to help her, that she can be the best, but his suggestions - suppress her emotions and follow his rules - are the very things that are hindering her.  He gaslights her, telling her she’s not strong enough to defeat him, when in fact she could blow him out of the water. He tells her she’s too emotional, a common tactic of men who tend to blow up if they are ever challenged.  And he engages in the language of abusers: ‘I’ve been good to you; I could make things bad for you.’ He takes credit for saving her, for giving her these powers and this purpose (her powers are later revealed to have been innate). “What was given can be taken away,” he threatens.  This is typical of men who, when women’s oppression is highlighted, point to instances of worse oppression, saying ‘don’t complain; look how much worse you could have it; you should thank me.’

4.

Finally, this sequences establishes the film’s most revolutionary statement.  Yon Rogg tells Carol that she has to defeat him on his terms. She can’t use her special power; she’ll only know she’s beaten him if she plays by his rules.  And on the surface, this seems correct. She has a power that he doesn’t have. It’s not ‘fair’ for her to use it, that would be ‘cheating’. But the truth is that he has defined the terms so that he will always win.  He happens to be better at the fighting style he’s requiring. The film forces us to ask: how can a system ever be ‘fair’ if half of the participants had no input in it’s creation? Everything we think about ‘fairness’, ‘justice’, ‘equality’, has been defined for us by men, and so we must reject the idea that they are objective truths.  There’s no reason why Carol shouldn’t fight with all of her natural ability. Yon Rogg is just not at her level.

All of this is present in the opening sequence of the film.  I highlight this because the most common criticism I’ve seen is that the early part of the film is slow or awkward.  I assume most of that is in reference to the following sequence, the visit with the Supreme Intelligence, which to be fair does have some clumsy exposition (come back next week for more on that!).  But there’s a lot going on in the opening: plot, character, and theme are all established there, and are carried consistently throughout the movie.

The Top 5 Films of 2017

1. Star Wars: The Last Jedi

There are any number of nonsense criticisms of this film, most of which are summed up nicely in this article: https://bittergertrude.com/2018/01/04/why-so-many-men-hate-the-last-jedi-but-cant-agree-on-why/ But among the not obviously sexist criticisms, the most common is that the Canto Bight (aka Casino World) sequence is unnecessary, to the point that the entire thing could be cut out of the film. Of course, the same could be said for many cinematic set pieces (the entire asteroid chase from The Empire Strikes Back, for one), but only if we reduce the film to nothing more than a sequence of events. If we include character development, theme, message, and world-building in our analysis of storytelling, the Canto Bight sequence becomes essential.

This film inherits a gaping storytelling hole from the previous entry, The Force Awakens. Canto Bight fills that by showing us what the conflict between First Order and Resistance looks like from the outside, and giving us a taste of what the world was like before The Force Awakens. In the middle of the action, Rose and Finn look out at the racetrack, and Rose talks about how she and her sister grew up among the poor and oppressed, while the rich people, like those in the casino behind them, exploited them. Rose was born after the Empire fell, she grew up under the New Republic. Yet her and her class suffered horrifically. This scene explains why Leia’s plan fails.

Leia’s whole plan during the movie is to keep as many Resistance fighters alive as possible while they escape to a base where they can call for help. She expects that the allies of the New Republic will come to their aid. But no one comes. The reason is there in Canto Bight. The natural allies of the Resistance are busy with their own struggles. And more importantly, the New Republic never helped them. It wasn’t some relative utopia of peace and prosperity, just because the Empire was defeated; in the New Republic, the suffering of the masses went unheard. Leia is counting on allies, but she wasn’t enough of an ally herself.

That’s when we can read the new trilogy as a catalogue of failures (and redemptions) of the heroes of the old. Han’s failure as a father. Luke’s failure as a teacher. And Leia’s failure as a leader. Sadly, we won’t get to see her redemptive arc.

2. Personal Shopper

There’s a lengthy sequence in this film that is just Kristen Stewart, by herself, texting someone, and it’s riveting. It helps that the person she’s texting is either a ghost, a murderer, her twin brother, a stalker/prankster, or all of the above. This movie is haunting in the best way. In the same way that Rose’s last line in The Last Jedi is a clear and simple statement of what the movie is all about, Maureen’s last line works the same here, a beautiful summation of the whole story. This is a film that allows for multiple interpretations; viewers who prefer certainty shouldn’t get their hopes up. In that sense, similar to filmmaker Olivier Assayas’ previous, Clouds of Sils Maria, which you may recall from my 2014 list.

3. Cold Hell

(Trailer includes violent images)

This movie keeps surprising me, after I finished it. I originally had it around #7 on this list, then #4. The only thing that keeps it going higher is a bit of over the top sexualized violence in the beginning, and the way it’s intercut with another scene. It’s an important part of the story, about a serial killer who’s motivation (like most) is misogyny, but it’s a bit much for an opening, and not especially consistent with the rest of the film. If you like Game of Thrones, it’s nothing you haven’t seen.
As to the film itself, imagine a typical slasher movie where the “final girl”, instead of running from the implacable stalker and screaming at an uncaring world, turns and chases him down on foot and pummels him with her bare hands. If that’s a movie you want to see, watch this ASAP. If that sounds dumb, move right along.

4. This is Not What I Expected

One man’s obsession with a perfectly prepared bowl of instant noodles. Takeshi Kaneshiro gives a brilliant performance as he sits, holding the noodles an inch from his mouth, staring intently at the second hand on his watch, waiting for the exact moment of al dente. There’s a lot more to this movie, but that bit has really stuck with me.

5. Dearest Sister

A fairly bleak exploration of greed as a primary human motivator, as everyone is stealing from both above and below. Nok leaves her poor village to stay with her rich cousin, Ana, in the city. Nok steals some cash from Ana and uses it to buy a lottery ticket, using numbers Ana whispers while in the fits of ghostly possession. Nok is stealing from Ana (both the cash and the numbers), and also ‘stealing’ from her family back home, who were expecting her to send money back to them. Instead, Nok becomes intoxicated with being able to buy things for the first time in her life. Ana’s own wealth comes from her white husband, who is using a UN grant to build a solar power plant. But he’s scamming the UN by using cheaper parts than specified, and also cheating the locals, who will never collect on this clean power. Meanwhile, Nok is robbed of her ill-gotten gains by Ana’s servants, etc.
An eerie ghost story is the backdrop for this tale of woe, with very effective low-budget effects. This film was the official selection for Best Foreign Film from Laos. Looking forward to more from Mattie Do.

6. The Little Hours

7. Girls Trip

8. Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story

9. Princess Cyd

10. Lady Bird

The Top 5 Films of 2016

(at least this way I have plenty of time to think it over…)

1. Divines

This film is devastating, fair warning. It’s also fun, funny, absurd, thrilling and scary.  Filmmaker Houda Benyamina is bringing a lot to the table, and the scene of Dounia taking Maimouna for a ride in her “Ferrari” is a cinematic standout. While an air of dread hangs over the film, I was able to relax a bit once I realized Dounia is invincible. But invincibility isn’t enough.

2. Hidden Figures

Varying degrees of racism on display here. The Jim Parsons character, Paul, is the most in-your-face racist, sexist jerk. Your basic deplorable. Then there’s Kirsten Dunst’s Vivian, who feigns empathy but abdicates responsibility with a heavy sigh and a “my hands are tied”, while claiming “I’m no better off than you.” Finally, Kevin Costner’s Al, the kind of person who “doesn’t even see color,” but has to have flagrant injustice spelled out for him before he’ll wake to it.

3. The Love Witch

The meticulous recreation of ‘60s style, down to the film stock and the lighting, and every tiny detail, that Anna Biller achieves is so absorbing that the most jarring moment in the movie is when someone pulls out a cell phone. Realization dawns that this is not actually a period piece, but a piece in the style of a period.

4. The Handmaiden

Lush beyond belief, every frame is carefully crafted, posed, and lingered on, sometimes uncomfortably so. An indulgent film in every possible way. But there’s irony in a film whose story hinges on the insidiousness of the male gaze, but can’t avoid partaking in the same.

5. Under the Shadow

An entry in the new wave of “social horror” films, this one a skillful metaphor for the oppression of women in society at large, with the specificity of post revolution Iran heightening the effect. Very creepy ghost story, with nary a drop of blood spilled. Also the second film on this list to feature Jinn.

6. As I Open My Eyes

7. Miss Hokusai

The crashing wave painting is one of the most famous images of Japanese art - an image so predominant, one forgets there’s an artist behind it at all.  His daughter was equally skilled, and this is a somewhat fictionalized account of their lives.

8. The Mermaid

Typical Stephen Chow insanity, a loony toons cartoon brought to life, but, also typically, with wild tone changes become super heavy and serious at a moment's notice.

9. Our Little Sister

10. The Fits

Logan Trailer Reaction

(In the spirit of the season…)

When I watch a movie, I’m hoping to see something new.  This is why I tend to like “weird” (aka arthouse) movies.  But I also really enjoy genre films.  This tends to put me in a bind, because as genre movies have become more popular, bigger budget affairs, the studios naturally want them to be safer and more formulaic.  The other things I increasingly look for are movies that pass the Bechdel test (link) and are not entirely white.  This has reduced the number of movies I’m interested in seeing.

I say all this in part to explain why 2013’s The Wolverine is my favorite movie of the X-Men franchise.  It’s an atypical superhero film: set in Japan instead of “New York analogue”, with a small stakes storyline - it’s basically a family drama rather than a city destroying alien invasion.  It passes the Bechdel test easily (something almost no studio blockbusters can manage, despite it being the lowest bar possible), and the setting results in a predominantly non-white cast.  Yes, the exploration of Japanese culture is eye-rollingly surface level, and the finale, with it’s ninja army and ridiculously oversized CG Silver Samurai, is kind of a let down.  But the film still manages to keep a laser-like focus on the theme throughout its runtime (reminder to self: blog post on mcguffin as physical manifestation of theme; see also Khan, Wrath of).

As a result, I had some anticipation for the sequel, especially knowing that the same filmmaker was behind it.  We now have our first look at 2017’s Logan:

(on a note of personal synchronicity, I ended my last blog post discussing Johnny Cash’s cover of Soundgarden’s “Break My Rusty Cage”, and this trailer prominently features the Cash cover of Nine Inch Nail’s “Hurt”, to great effect.)

Right off the bat, this does not look like a typical superhero movie, but even more importantly, it doesn’t look like The Wolverine either, so my desire for something new appears to be met.  The lighting and coloring of the trailer (and always important to consider that a trailer may not be representative of finished film in all sorts of ways) really helps establish a mood.  Although this film will surely be “dark & gritty”, it doesn’t look dark and gritty, like the WB DC movies.  Nor does it look bright and colorful like a Marvel movie.  This trailer is immediately suggestive of the first Mad Max movie (and not just because Hugh Jackman with old man makeup and beard looks like Mel Gibson).

must be an aussie thing

That look appears in keeping with what little bits of story we get.  This is a world of civilization in decay, rather than the far flung post-apocalyptic waste-land of the later Max movies.  And that sense of decay is feeding two genre concepts I feel have rarely been addressed on film: what happens to superheroes when they get old, and how do immortal (or practically immortal) heroes deal with everyone dying around them?

(Sadly, the movie appears to be all white, and the one girl won’t give the film a passing grade, but then again, it is just a teaser, so we’ll see.)

Aging Heroes

The world in comics tends to be static, with all 70+ years of storylines essentially happening within the same 5 year period (like the Simpsons).  The movies mirror that, but deal with the fact that actors actually do age by rebooting the characters on a regular basis.  As a result, we never see the heroes get old.  There are occasional one-off comic series dealing with older heroes, like “Old Man Logan” (thankfully not the storyline of this film), or “The Dark Knight Returns”.  But these are more products of the What If? Machine than ongoing storylines in continuity, and as a result have never been portrayed on film.  The Watchmen comics seriously dealt with this concept, but unfortunately the film version discarded that aspect in favor of… nothing by pretty pictures.

The X-Men film franchise offers a unique opportunity to explore this.  Hugh Jackman has been playing this character for 17 years now:

And it shows

Moreover, the character has appeared in multiple time periods within the series chronology.  Jackman has also stated that this will be his last appearance as Logan.  So when we see him in character here, it feels like this is actually the character grown old, the end of his run, and not a “what if” situation.  We also have Patrick Stewart, reprising his role as Xavier, along for the ride, compounding the oldness quotient.

The feels...

What the movie appears to suggest is an original if obvious take: when superheros age, their powers weaken the same way the human body & mind in general weaken with age.

Lonely Immortals

Immortals mixing with mortals is a common genre premise, but the consequences are rarely explored, more often just hinted at.  For example, the TV show Lost Girl (my brother’s favorite show, watch for his guest post on this blog!) features a practically immortal lead character who has relationships with humans.  But for the duration of the show, most of the characters appear to be around 30, so that actuality never hits home.  They mention the fact that the human love interest will grow old and die while our Fae heroine continues to appear the same age, and it does weigh on them from time to time.  But they never take the opportunity (even for a what if? one off episode) to, say, drop in on them 30 years later.

Let the Right One In does suggest that, but using two characters: the older companion at the end of his time with the ageless girl, and the new young companion just meeting her.  What we’re getting with Logan is the same character through the ages, over the course of many films.  Instead of watching a mortal companion grow old and die, Logan’s companion is society itself, now potentially in it’s last days.

The aging heroes and lonely immortals are really just attempts to express our feelings about mortality.  We tend to view ourselves as the immortals, always picturing ourselves around the same age, even as the people we know and love age and die, and the world becomes unrecognizable to us, and  we wonder where our super powers went.  But along comes a child, who the Professor insists is “like you...  Very much like you.”

Against this backdrop, the Professor tells us “Logan… You still have time.”

The Top 5 Films of 2015

(so it takes me a while)

1. Mad Max: Fury Road

This is a film that invites inspection through its masterful use of hinting; it hints at the details of a vast world, rich with symbolism, character, story and ethos.  But all of that is on the periphery of a film that appears deceptively simple; a straightforward chase movie with minimal dialog and almost no direct exposition.  The film has already been examined thoroughly from many perspectives - cinematic, feminist, allegorical, etc - but I wanted to look at two instances of single-word storytelling.  It’s fitting that a script so spartan works to pack as much punch into each word as it can, but to tell a whole story with a single word is pretty incredible.

“Redemption”

All of Furiosa’s back story, her entire character arc, is revealed in a single word more than half way through the film.  We are introduced to her as a character that rarely speaks, a kindred spirit to Max himself, who seems primarily motivated by survival instinct.  We don’t get any insight into why she takes the initial action that sets the film’s events in motion until they are long underway.  She and Max talk about what the women they have rescued are hoping to find, and then he turns it on her.  “What are you looking for?” he asks.  “Redemption,” she says.

We understand all of Furiosa’s history with that word.  We know what kind of man Imortan Joe is, we know how he treats people, how he treats women.  We know that she is a high ranking officer in his army / cult, perhaps even his right hand.  We can imagine what she must have done, what she must have been through, to get there.  And that’s the key.  That single word, “redemption,” lets us imagine it all.  We don’t need it spelled out for us.  We don’t need our faces rubbed in it.  We don’t need a lengthy flashback or a prologue or pages of expository dialog.  One word tells the story.

“Witness”

The details of Imortan Joe’s religion are again only hinted at, but there’s enough there to paint a picture.  It’s a warrior cult; the War Boys live to fight, hoping to sacrifice themselves, like berserkers or kamikazee, heroically on the battlefield, so that they may be “awaited” in Valhalla.  But before they make their sacrifice, they call out to their companions: “Witness!”  The sacrifice itself is not enough, someone has to see it.  The childlike nature of the War Boys leaves them craving attention and approval.  Someone must see, must know what they are doing.  To the point that Nux, having flooded his cabin with gas, ready to suicide bomb the War Rig, and finding none of his compatriots around, turns to his prisoner, Max, to be his validation: “Witness me, blood-bag!”

Later in the film, after missing his chance at glory, Nux forms a friendship with Capable.  She is the first person to show him compassion, to listen to him.  When he is about to make his final sacrifice, he looks at her through the windshield to the next car, holds out his hand to her, and says “witness.”

And she does.  Calmly, compassionately and intently, she watches him.  She gives him what he needs, for his faith which she does not share.  There is no emotional distress or pleading, no lengthy description of what it means to her or to him, just a witness to his deeds.  To let him know that he is seen.  The story of their relationship is told in a single word.

2.  Spy

Once this film gets going, the laughs are so wall-to-wall it’s almost painful; thanks to Melissa McCarthy’s ability to riff endlessly with assists from a great cast.  The great thing about the movie is that it’s not a parody.  It’s not making fun of James Bond, she is James Bond, complete with all the gadgets, goofy villains, crazy conspiracies and fight scenes.  It’s just that the movie is also very funny.  The target of the mockery is not the spy movie genre but the toxic masculinity often at its heart.

This is personified beautifully by Jason Statham’s Rick Ford character.  Full of bluster, constantly recounting tales of his impossible heroics, forever insisting that he alone can and will save the world, he not only dismisses McCarthy’s Susan Cooper out of hand (as does everyone else in the film), he is personally insulted at her being considered for the same task.  He is, of course, revealed to be completely incompetent in comparison to her.

    

Rick Ford is an obvious target.  More subtle is Jude Law’s Bradley Fine character.  Although a skilled agent himself, he has consistently (perhaps even unwittingly) subverted Susan’s career advancement, using her talents to support him in the field and preventing her any opportunity to shine on her own.

But best of all, this movie is just weird.

3.  The Duke of Burgundy

There were three films released in February 2015 that dealt with BDSM relationships.  Most famously, Fifty Shades of Grey depicts a man dominating a woman.  The insane Japanese film R100 involves a man signing up to be dominated by a whole squadron of women.  But The Duke of Burgundy, by telling a story about two women, is able remove all of the sexual politics that inevitably arise in the others.

The film is not set in our world, but in some timeless cocoon world; a world devoid of technology, devoid of men, and where everyone is strangely fascinated by moths.  It feels a bit like this year’s Under the Skin with its deliberate pace and otherworldly characters.  Weird soundtrack, too.  This is a film that shifts your perceptions, realizing (what seems obvious in retrospect) which character is more controlling, more dominant.  The age difference highlights this as well.

Also, too, this movie is super weird.

4.  Carol

Cate Blanchett is amazing.  I think there were some other people in this movie, too.

5.  Clouds of Sils Maria

This is another film that shifts the viewer’s perceptions as it unfolds.  An onion-layered film with a play-within-a-movie structure, the lines between play-character, movie-character, and even real life actor become blurred.  But at a certain point you realize you’ve been linking the actors with the wrong characters all along.  A fun movie to dissect afterwards (which the characters themselves spend a fair amount of the film doing).  Not recommended for people who require story lines to be resolved.

Not Quite:

Appropriate Behavior: good, but needed to be weirder.

Grandma: Lily Tomlin is great of course, but writing is too on-the-nose.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens: It was the best of JJ, it was the worst of JJ.  Exceptional casting, great characterisation, propulsive, fun and exciting.  But doesn’t hold up to examination, relies heavily on convenience, and uses nostalgia and unearned emotion in place of actual motivation and world building.  Seriously, what is the political situation at the start of the movie?

Mockingjay Part 2: Lionsgate’s cash-grabbing decision to split this into two films dooms the whole series into not being worth revisiting.  Criminal waste of Jena Malone.