Capsule reviews and stray thoughts from February 2024. All reviews via Letterboxd.

American Fiction (2023)

Felt like a bit of a bait and switch, but a thematically appropriate one, at least. The trailer had me imagining Boots Riley energy, or maybe an updated spin on Bamboozled, but a few sequences aside, that’s not what this is up to at all. This is a family dramedy with an occasional subplot about literary fraud, not an angry satire about the state of Black representation in pop culture. It does dig in on the satire every so often, and yeah some of those shots it takes are great (one involving an RBG poster definitely did me in), but that feels secondary to the real relationships that drive the film.

Which is part of what makes the ending feel like a cheat. More charitably, it makes sense for the satire I thought I was getting, but not for the human story that was actually the bulk of the movie. It leaves the whole thing feeling more muddled than I expected for a best picture nominee, but even that somehow seems like an extension of the point the film is making.

The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021)

Ever since this was first announced I’ve been curious why Joel Coen would choose this as his first solo project. Now that I’ve finally seen it, I’m still unsure. I see the connections to other Coen works, but as far as why this film at this time, I’m still at a bit of a loss.

Visually it’s magnificent, and feels like a love letter to European arthouse from Caligari and Joan of Arc to the Seventh Seal. It feels meticulous almost to the point of being overfussed, but when you get images like the reflection of the weird sisters in their introduction, it’s hard to complain. The performances are also universally strong, at least in their individual moments, but there’s some of the same rigidity in the way they come together that keeps it from conveying the tragedy of the title. Even knowing the shape of the plot, I didn’t feel the sweep of the narrative, which was surprising given the calibre of talent involved in every part of this.

Certainly worth watching, but as a curiousity more than a statement.

Black Mirror: Demon 79 (2023)

I fell off of Black Mirror years ago, so no surprise that the episode that’s most criticized for shedding basically all the show’s hallmarks is also the one I’ve enjoyed the most in a long while. Nice period textures, goofy plot, more interested in story than message (though the political subtext is far from subtle)—it’s a 75-minute demon-murder lark and if a stalled spinoff of Black Mirror is what it took to get it made, so be it.

Starman (1984)

Nice to see John Carpenter straying from the nihilism of so much of his work for something sweet and even a little silly. Bridges’ performance as an alien discovering how to use its new human body could have been irritating, but he settles into the right balance of quirky but contained. I love the way his attention is always in motion, the way he seems unfamiliar in his body, never quite using it properly. Something about the physicality struck me as bird-like, and I really wonder if that was intentional.

I can see why the studios worried this would seem too similar to ET, but 40 years on, they very much feel like different stories for different audiences. Watching it I found myself thinking of Contact more than anything Spielberg—maybe because I’ve seen it more recently, but the sense of hope, the love of science (and SETI), the loathing of militarism, and even the basic idea of the alien taking the form of a lost loved one, it’s hard to deny the echoes.

His Girl Friday (1940)

A rewatch because it’s been more than a few years and my partner has never seen it. It’s billed as a screwball romance, but I’m not sure whether it’s a love story or a hostage negotiation. Either way I laughed a lot.

This movie basically never takes a breath, except when a room full of journalists pauses to reflect on the glibness and cynicism of their worldview, laid bare by a desperate woman at the end of her rope. The fact the movie finds room for that, and then jumps right back into the snappiest, overlappingest dialogue this side of, well, anything, is impressive as heck.

Insert Coin (2020)

Fairly standard talking-head-style documentary about Midway Games, the company behind Mortal Kombat, NBA Jam, and other over-the-top arcade classics. Good for background viewing, but not if you’re looking for something with a perspective or a message beyond “remember these games?”

A guy in this thinks he’s being charming by saying he used probably illegal clauses in contracts and an army of lawyers to coerce staff into turning down better offer from competitors. So many people think they’re clever when they’re actually just cruel.

Amelie (2001)

(Post-Valentines Day screening at the Globe Cinema)

23 years ago I watched this at a beautiful local art house that has since been demolished and turned into a seemingly permanent development project that was recently used as a post-apocalyptic ruin in a major television series. As far as cinematic experiences in Calgary go, that was a foundational one for me—it was a joyful shared experience and a high that I’ve had a hard time matching over the years. It was such a perfect film for me at that time, its breathless pace, the whimsy and inventiveness, and just the allure of something foreign and different was catnip to my inexperienced self.

I knew I wouldn’t have the same reaction watching it now, even if it was in the local art house across the street from the shell of where I first watched it. But I was pleasantly surprised by how much of that joy it still holds. There are a lot more choices in it that I would second guess, and it doesn’t feel so entirely sui generis, but it’s still lovely, funny, generous, and warm, with a fantastic score and a relentless pace.

I do miss that initial viewing, though, and I really hope this city still has places that can give young movie fans an equivalent experience.

Drive-Away Dolls (2024)

Just the kind of pulpy, dark, throwaway fun I was looking for. It reminds me of the sort of post-Pulp Fiction gangster comedies that were ubiquitous in the late ’90s, which I guess now count as comforting, nostalgic viewing for me. I don’t think this means I have to rewatch The Way of the Gun and Go now, but I suppose I should consider it.

It doesn’t quite have the Coen rhythm to it, but it feels like Ethan had a lot of fun putting this together, which is good enough for me. I hadn’t intentionally tried to watch this and Macbeth in the same month, and I don’t want to overstate how much each film says about directors who have made such a wide range of movies, but it’s interesting for Joel to swing so heavy for prestige and Ethan for pulp. If that’s reflective of their usual dynamic, it’s easy to understand why they’d want to splut up for a bit, but they’re definitely better together.

I hope Curlie is ok.

Uzumaki (2000)

Another one I haven’t revisited in probably 22 years. My first viewing was very much in my “weird for weird’s sake” phase of movie-watching (which is essential, but also probably a bit insufferable), so I was worried this wouldn’t hold up at all. Especially given all the middling reviews on Letterboxd and my own increased awareness of the source material.

Seeing it with relatively fresh eyes, I’ll admit it’s not a masterpiece by any stretch, but it does have an atmosphere to it, along with imagery strong enough to stick with me for two decades. Most of the credit for that goes to Junji Ito, I’m sure, and memorable as it is, the imagery doesn’t hold a candle to his original artwork (surreal horror will always work better in more abstracted media). But viewed on its own, this is still a solid slice of weird cinematic horror—not scary, not even really creepy, but still capable of getting under the skin.

Side note: I watched a somewhat low-res version in YouTube, and I have to say, the digital decay sort of suits it? The way large chunks of the screen pop in and out of clarity based on the whims of the algorithm, it has this ever-shifting lack of reality that just works. That notion that a medium’s flaws are what you end up nostalgic for, strikes yet again.