Film Review: Mama

My review of Mama

Like one of the child protagonists in Mama, the movie cannot find its legs, wildly scampering about and moving from a promising premise to a kitchen sink approach in a desperate play to make this a full-length movie. Based on a brilliant, intensely creative 3-minute short by Andres Muschietti, the full-length Guillermo Del Toro-produced film careens from presenting one red herring after another and loses grasp of the crux of Muschietti’s idea, the fairly innovative “Mom is mad at us. But wait… Mom is actually a ghost.”
The movie opens in a straight-out-of-Let The Right One In wintery scene, with a financial-crisis-aggrieved father, having just murdered his estranged wife and business partner, driving on a snowy road with his scared two little girls in the back seat. There is a grim finality to his intentions, undoubtedly, since he’s a broken man on a tortuous road with a dead end. Muschietti’s cinematography is absolutely phenomenal, with a crispness and an enthralling clarity not commonly seen in ghost story flicks. Dad’s plan is thwarted by Mama, who as the little girl points out, “does not walk on the ground.”
Five years pass. The girls, Victoria (Megan Carpenter) and Lilly (Isabelle Nelisse), are discovered, having somehow survived alone in the wilderness, turning feral in the process, crawling and scampering about on all fours, scared at any sound and barely human. They are taken in to live with their Uncle Luke (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) and his rock-band-playing girlfriend Annabel (Jessica Chastain), to whom this all seems like one big nuisance putting a damper on her bon vivant lifestyle. Obvious nod to a familiar trope: when was the last time in a horror film that adopting children was a good idea? This is the first major issue with the film. The very Flowers In The Attic set-up is ripe with psychological material for exploration. At the same time, there is a fine line to tread between queasy voyeurism of the results of child neglect and a compassionate inquiry into it. Most of what we are presented with is through the lens of the girls’ sessions with a therapist, who we later come to realize has some questionable fame-seeking tendencies, and this is the part of the movie where things start to hit the hokey spectrum fast. Speaking of the therapist, Dr. Dreyfuss (Daniel Kash), displays some typical horror movie inanity. He runs out of the house as soon as he gets a whiff of Mama, but then right away goes in search of her in the abandoned creepy cottage in the middle of the woods, of course. Because we wouldn’t have it any other way.


Another major flaw with the film is that less than even half way through, the audience already knows what Mama is searching for when a well-meaning librarian ominously declares that a ghost is an “emotion bent out of shape, bound to repeat itself until the wrong is made right.” Therein is the crux of the problem with Mama. For the first good three quarters of the movie, it is eerie and atmospheric and scary and then all of a sudden, it bafflingly turns into a sloppy hodgepodge of clues meant to somehow make the story more believable but are really *gaping* plot holes that serve to unravel it and make less believable instead. Oh, Mama is a ghost, but she needs a hole in the wall to pass through!? No, seriously. Oh, Mama is searching for something but when she is handed it, she quickly tosses it aside. Oh, the Doctor tells Mama he has something that she is looking for, but oopsie daisie, he forgot it in the office. And the ending will literally having you howling with laughter as it looks plucked straight out of where-CGI-goes-to-die-archives, soft light glow bathing things, things breaking up into dust particles and butterflies, and the family clinging to each other at the edge of the cliff, literally.
The ingeniousness of the original short lies in the interaction between Mama and the girls. It had the absorbing and equally disturbing absurdity that the very banal “Mama is mad at me,” situation takes on when Mama is not human. There is enough horror even in the opening of the closet door. It would be intriguing to explore how Lilly and Victoria respond to her differently. All of this rich material seems left to languish, untouched, in favor of vapid scare tactics. Mama has so much potential that ends up ghostly vanishing into thin air, but it does offer some good old-fashioned, mercifully-gore-free frights.

Rust And Bone Movie Review

My review of Rust And Bone

Rust and Bone could not have had a more apropos soundtrack to its trailer than M83′s “My Tears Are Becoming A Sea.” It’s a love story, yet Rust And Bone will sweep you off your feet in the most unromantic of ways, as though being swept away by an inexorable tide. Director Jacques Audiard follows up his last film, the highly-lauded and Oscar-nominated A Prophet, by delving deeper into some more emotional territory. Whereas A Prophet was about an Arab man who finds himself working for a Corsican gang while in prison and found an incendiary intensity to it, it lacked a bit in its character-developing angle. Rust And Bone (the title refers to the taste left in one’s bleeding mouth after being punched) is a raw and visceral powerhouse of a film.


Matthias Schoenaerts (who brings more of the brutish relentlessness he employed in his lead in the much-acclaimed and Oscar-nominated Bullhead of last year) plays Ali, a former boxer. We first meet walking doggedly towards an unknown destination, trailed by his 5-year-old son, whom he barely knows. The two end up in the south of France, in Antibes, where they stay with Ali’s sister, whom he has not seen in five years. Yes, relationships are not Ali’s forte. He starts working as a bouncer, where he meets the brash and beautiful Stephanie (Marion Cotillard), a whale trainer at Marineland, whom he literally rescues from a brawl she has incited. In his brutish, deadpan delivery, he remarks that she is “dressed like a whore,” and leaves his number with her matter-of-factly, expecting her to follow suit with all the other women who seem all to happy to fall in bed (not love) with him.
A freak accident at the marine park causes Stephanie to lose both of her legs. Despondent and literally broken, she reaches out to him, for lack of anyone else (pushing people away is definitely something Ali knows a thing or two about, also). Not one to let her guard down either, the two form a quiet bond: Ali never comments on her vulnerability or allows for any rumination on her new state, instead opting to build her up by simple gestures like bringing her to the beach and swimming with her on his back. Seemingly motivated out of nothing more than pure selfishness or lust, he nevertheless draws her out and away from a place of fissure.
Marion Cotillard’s performance absolutely steals the show. She portrays Stephanie’s fractured body and soul with a mesmerizing combination of vulnerability and steely strength. When Ali becomes involved in the brutal world of illegal street fighting, it is her singularity as “the woman with the steel legs” that allows her to enter it and give him the support his own broken self needs.
Rust and Bone does not mince any words; there are no sweeping, saccharine romantic gestures. The leads might as well be spitting “I love yous” through gritted teeth and blood-filled mouths. Both Stephanie and Ali are tough, barely reaching through to each other in the few chinks in their respective armors. Their characters, however, are very real, relentlessly and pitilessly so. Pulling no punches, this is a movie about fighting and surviving. While in some ways hearkening back to similar broken-body-and-spirit stories like The Wrestler, Rust and Bone is thoroughly unique in its ethos. The stunning cinematography of the sea and the fight scenes lend a cinema-veritas edge to the film that is equal parts beautiful and brutal. It is a haunting yet thoroughly engrossing film that stays true to Audiard’s oeuvre.

Crossfade Roulette–My Weekly Music Column

Crossfade Roulette:

In this column, we cover songs for you to nod your head to in the EDM scene [electronic dance music, not extra dancy music, for those not in the know]. There is enough dance floor pressure here to get you out of the tryptophan malaise with a quickness.
1. Grenier “Here Come The Dark Lights”
If your idea of dubstep is Skrillex–and shame on you if this is the case since Skrillex is brostep, it is time to edumacate yourself. A far cry from the Shrillex sound, dubstep originated in South London, with singles usually landing on the B-sides of garage records [btw, it’s pronounced ga-ra-dj like a proper Brit].  BBC Radio 1 DJs John Peel and Mary Ann Hobbs brought the genre fully into the mainstream, but its hallmark has always been heavy bass lines–in other words, not the kind of “wobble wobble” abuse/overuse in dubstep-by-the-numbers would have you believe.
Grenier, aka DJG, has been toiling in the bass trenches of San Francisco producing quality music for a while now. His show in DC in 2011, brought by the bassxperts of 88DC, was a testament to what good dubstep sounds like–dark and heavy and mercifully free of screeching girls.
2. Lana Del Rey “Ride” [MJ Cole Remix]

Speaking of garage and dubstep, UK producer MJ Cole has churned out a solid catalogue of garage hits, including Sincere. On this latest remix, he takes Lana Del Rey’s languid Ride and makes it shimmer and seethe with the traditional syncopated garage beat. This is one very rideable hot beat.
3. Jodi & Hosta “My Life”

Time to talk about drum’n’bass, my ever-present love. Drum’n’bass has more offshoots than Bob Marley, all with different Moms too. There is liquid d’n’b and its close brethren, chillstep. Some might argue chillstep is more of the dubstep ilk, with producers like Sierra Leone and Mount Kimbie as an example, but this track is just straight up chill drum’n’bass. Lush and pure aural delight.
4. Little Dragon “Sunshine” [Shlohmo Remix]

In the immortal words of Dave Chapelle, everything is better in slo-mo and downtempo purveyor Shlohmo proves this to be the case indeed. Taking Little Dragon’s effervescent Sunshine–oh, and btw, Yukimi Nagano can do *no* wrong in my book–and layering it on top of a wistful and wispy beat produces a shining sonic delight. You will be flying high on this particular lotus.
5. Alexander Spit “A Breathtaking Trip”

I first chanced upon this rapper when I noticed Alchemist appeared on his “Getaway Car” track. When asked who he wants to work with, San Francisco rapper Alexander Spit references Portishead and Kanye. His languid yet sharp delivery is definitely trip-hop-worthy and no less trip-worthy. Psychedelic explorations and phantasmagoria abound. “Bodies feel like costumes after I ate the mushrooms.” This is one hazy breath-taking trip to the other side. “I stay gone, my chick thinking we long distance.”

Silver Linings Playbook Movie Review

My review of Silver Linings Playbook

The silver linings abound in the impossibly endearing Silver Linings Playbook, a glorious mash-up of a mental health issues-rom-com film that is far too cheeky and whip smart to, surprisingly, be a mainstream release. Director David O. Russell (Three Kings, I ♥ Huckabees, The Fighter) adapts Matthew Quick’s 2008 novel about a down-on-his-luck former high school teacher fresh out of a month stint in a mental health hospital. Hell-bent on “winning back” his estranged, restraining-order-wielding wife, Pat (Bradley Cooper) is staging a Rocky-like comeback physically (complete with jogging with a garbage bag on top of his running clothes so he can sweat more) and mentally, by reading his way through the high school English syllabus. Oh, and there is this “dance thing” too that he has agreed to do with the self-described “crazy slut with a dead husband” Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence). While Silver Linings Playbook does rely on some tried and tested rom com tropes, this is a far cry from jam-in-every-underdog-story-cliche film.

The family interaction in Silver Linings Playbook strongly parallels the one in The Fighter. Screaming is abound, whether boisterous or bellicose, and the love for the Philadelphia Eagles binds and breaks and is the sports grease that oils the family emotional machine. Jackie Warner’s pacifist mother character is instantly likable. DeNiro brings in his Meet The Parents experience to bear, playing Pat Sr. with impeccable comedic timing. Much ado about something and nothing, obsessive sports betting, and idiosyncracies aside, the take away message is this is one crazy and crazily non-dysfunctional family that loves each other.

 



And speaking of crazy, Bradley Cooper channels his ADD-addledom from Limitless with excellent aplomb here, and it serves him well in bringing Pat’s manic moments to life. His portrayal of Pat as a “normal” guy who is humbled by the realization that he has struggled with bipolar disorder for a really long time is thoroughly disarming and easily one of Cooper’s finest characterizations to date. And while mental health issues are handled with enough gravitas in the film, there is also room for plenty of good-natured ribbing, as in the scene where Tiffany and Pat rattle off all the meds they have been on and the fun factor of each of them. Anupam Kher’s turn as Pat’s football-loving shrink Dr. Patel is pure comedic gold, even if it is not terribly true to DSM guidelines (I mean, when is the last time a shrink played a song to “test” whether it would set a patient off, without warning the patient). Pat’s constant riffing on the theme of positivity (Excelsior!=Ever Upward!) is equal parts funny and terribly true to the often mind-numbing platitudes patients in therapy are to “realize.” Speaking of therapy, Jennifer Lawrence’s performance as “damaged girl” Tiffany, with its perfect balance of toughness and vulnerability, is a testament to the actress’s maturity and range. The relationship between Pat and Tiffany is sort of like a a more G version of the one between Marla Singer and Jack in Fight Club, with its wry sarcastic repartee and heart-warming “out-crazy-ing” each other moments. Apparently having poor filters makes for some seriously enjoyable dialogue. And of course, the age old romcom trope of “the dance contest that brings everyone together” is yes, pretty recognizable, but what’s a little Dancing With The Starsaction to propel the plot forward but forgivable and fun.
Silver Linings Playbook has plenty of Catcher In The Rye-worthy ruminations. When Tiffany points out that their craziness is what makes them real unlike the other fake people, one can definitely hear Holden Caulfield talking about phonies. And though there is enough here to ruminate on, the levity abounds, the dialogue sparkles, and one would have to try very hard to not thoroughly enjoy this movie.