When a plot is a character study rather than a tale with a definitive moral, trivia will overshadow all other aspects. In this case, the fun facts (e.g. Meryl Streep learned to play the guitar and does her own singing alongside career musician, Rick Springfield and her real- life daughter plays the part onscreen) enhance the realism that keeps it from being overly simplistic. Any humor lies in relatable and/or ironic elements, which can only be disappointing when compared to a formulaic Dramedy, in which everyone learns their lesson far too easily.
Pit any character against a Nazi and the audience will automatically know who to root for. It’s much harder to show how a reasonable person can become a cold-hearted monster. The zeal with which teenagers approach any popular interest makes them ideal recruits; it only takes a charismatic mentor to offer all the things the War has taken away, which no amount of Big Jazz, Swing dancing, and jive slang could provide. Friendships are strained as loyalties are tested. Could anyone/thing escape the grasp of the Reich?
Incidentally, (and thankfully) no one attempts a fake accent. They all speak American or British English and you don’t even notice.
Murder and mayhem are in store for deep characters based on historic figures devoid of characature, set in rich tones inspired by a real locale, steeped in the iconic style of Vintage era without a hint of kitsch, in which music is fully integrated into intricately layered secrets anchored by immaculate cinematography.
I suppose that in any Art form, everyone sees something different. Many recall this movie about a scrappy welder by day/ exotic dancer by night with nostalgia alone due to its iconic soundtrack. Others can still remember their infatuation with its lead after closeups of her exercise regimen made her iconic silhouette getting splashed with […]
The apparent attitude of soneone who genuinely doesn’t care what others think seems to get labeled a schtick. Especially, when that someone is the worst singer ever yet sells out Carnegie Hall. Seriously. Equally confusing is why anyone would buy a ticket. Are they inspired by her unfettered passion for singing, enjoying the music with […]
Fame is isolating. So is the security business. When you’re gifted above average, the spotlight will find you and make you a target. If you’re savvy enough to navigate all the pitfalls, you’re likely cynical and ruthless, yourself. Conversely, if you’re naive you’ll get taken advantage of and eventually eaten alive. It’s easy to see […]
Writer/ director, Baz Luhrmann, best known for his pinache, made his moviemaking debut with this one. And what a first impression! Let’s face it: regardless of medium, most first attempts are sincere but earnest and eschew anything flashy, which is understandable. Yet this gutsy storyteller somehow manages to fully develop his characters in a short amount of time. Though the movie is fast-paced it doesn’t feel the least bit rushed; Luhrmann knows exactly when and where to move the camera around his stylized set.
Though he gradually drifted into the realm of cinematic adaptations, this story is truly unique as a perfect synergy of any element you can name. I initially remembered it being a creative little daydream (i.e. a much classier version of Dirty Dancing) that someone more sentimental than I made me watch. Over the years it periodically surfaced in various conversations, referenced by everyone but cinephiles. I finally decided to rewatch it, assuming it would be a subtle precursor to Luhrmann’s hyper-stylized version of “Romeo and Juliet,” which I loved but hadn’t connected as being from the same visionary. Though many movies with vaguely similar elements came to mind, I couldn’t think of a single one to which this compares. In my humble opinion, it remains his finest work.
I know this one’s a pop culture classic but it’s usually dismissed as a musical. Is it about music? Yes. Does it have choreography? Yes. But it’s primarily about censorship and communication. The main point of the dancing is to represent something that’s harmless in and of itself—even beneficial for exercise and social bonding—that’s been banned due to certain connotations stemming from an unfortunate incident remotely related to it. Fair points are made about the value of community and kinship but the script has nothing to do with country vs. city or traditional vs. modern. When a character—and not even the main one—matures from rallying his neighbors in an effort to suppress free speech to speaking out against a book-burning organized by the very people he inspired with his fear-mongering, the story needs to respected rather than remade into a one-dimensional musical about mean uptight adults forced to lighten up and let kids channel their creativity into provocative dancing.
Though the title borrows the more popular lyric/ song title, this film could’ve been aptly named “Nothing’s Gonna Change my World”; the irony being the massive upending of life as everyone knew it prior to the turbulent 1960s. To craft a plot from a collection of music not written as a cohesive narrative is tricky enough; to seamlessly infuse the playlist with a personification of the music and events that equally influenced and inspired each other is a true work of Art. The inclusion of live musical performance, choreography, imaginative cinematography, depiction of history and socio-political commentary take this mesmerizing spectacle way beyond a Beatles-inspired musical.
While I’ve heard this short-turned-feature dismissed as an overwrought caricature, writer/ director, Damien Chazelle had yet to prove his storytelling chops with “10 Cloverfield Lane” and certainly before the successful “La La Land” when he crafted his depiction of a sadistic music teacher, who he patterned after one of his own. Since the film’s release, many musicians have spoken out in support of its accuracy, which was the only compelling reason I had to watch it.
It took me a couple of days to finish this movie; due to its emotional intensity I took frequent breaks. Had it not been for sublimely meticulous craftsmanship it would’ve seemed melodramatic. It also helped that I had warm associations with both J. K. Simmons and Paul Reiser, not that it should’ve mattered. Still, overall—despite its anxiety-inducing quality—it paints a vivid picture of that fine line between focused motivation and injurious obsession. The likes of which may never be matched.