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- DirectorAdil El ArbiBilall FallahStarsWill SmithMartin LawrenceVanessa HudgensMiami detectives Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett must face off against a mother-and-son pair of drug lords who wreak vengeful havoc on their city.
- DirectorDestin Daniel CrettonStarsMichael B. JordanJamie FoxxBrie LarsonWorld-renowned civil rights defense attorney Bryan Stevenson works to free a wrongly condemned death row prisoner.So goes the story so old it ought to be biblical, all things considered. A man on trial for a false accusation that leads him to death row. The tale is told from a child’s point of view, so a good deal of humor is thrown in. Lucky for him, he has a lawyer as strong as David in facing Racism the Goliath. This character, his lawyer, may forever be known as the greatest hero in cinematic history: Atticus Finch.
Sadly, his “hero” status mind as well be from the Marvel Cinematic universe, because this man is a fiction. Such nobility in the south was not really inspired. And the story of “Just Mercy” boldly goes to the fictional town of “Maycomb,” Alabama...inspired by Harper Lee’s experiences in the all-too-real Monroeville, where a significant portion of “Just Mercy” actually takes place.
The recollection of “To Kill a Mockingbird” within a similar story would be almost self-destructive to any film, as the original just cannot be outdone, but here we know from those dreadful five words that start the picture...we’re not in a fantasy:
Based on a true story.
I left the theater with some white-guilt after a showing of “BlackkKlansman,” but “Just Mercy” may have taught me something else. I feel now, at least, I would make a terrible lawyer. I have zero tolerance for ignorance (feeling the most pain for my own), and to be so exposed would be infuriating. To be the last line of defense at the mercy of a fearful, hateful jury would be a nightmare.
Brace yourself or dismiss yourself now, because my leniency towards a jury would hardly exist in reality, let alone in my preferred form of writing: film criticism. For me, it’s never just a film.
Imagine, as you must while the story reveals itself, your daughter is killed. You’re looking for consolation, no doubt...but justice? This is the theme of “Just Mercy,” as the title alone suggests multiple themes. The trial for a man on death row ended seemingly for the sake of false consolation. There is clearly no justice that has been heard, and our hero lawyer in this story, makes this painfully obvious observation pretty immediately in the film.
A new lawyer, Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan from “Black Panther”, is humiliatingly strip-searched as a prank just to show you the ride we’re in for (since I don’t know the actual true story, I’m going to just hope most of this film was a creative liberty, including this nasty detail). He takes responsibility for a few men on death row, one of which we see he can do nothing to stop what’s coming: the death penalty.
Just “another way to lynch a black man,” says his friend on death row before the execution. “Don’t think about it too much” is the sentiment among the white officers during the “lynching.”
How false can consolation get? Even if a man is guilty, honestly, is killing him justice? This film is as much about a case for abolishing the death penalty as it is about getting to the heart of systemic racism. What are the means we use to get to the end that is “consolation?”
In this case, there was one witness (Tim Blake Nelson from “O Brother, Where Art Thou?) who was intimidated to become reason enough to send Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx, “Django Unchained”) to the electric chair.
Bryan goes to meet this “witness,” a man named Ralph (Nelson). Ralph treats Bryan with respect as an equal, willing to talk to him, showing that racism isn’t always “black and white.” It’s about better and worse, because he’s NOT willing to talk about Walter’s case (at first). He knows the truth, after all, which is a lie that saved his life from an electric seat. It was a manipulative effort that enabled Ralph to save his own life. All he had to do was lie, a failed contradicting attempt that somehow worked. Too easily.
Walter’s on death row when he meets Bryan.
Walter’s crime was that he cheated on his wife. This word spreads fast in these towns in Alabama. Contempt for Walter was enough to put him on death row with no real questions asked. In fact, as I’ve said, he was set up. Seemingly for the sake of, as I’ve said, false consolation. And this is what justice has become, even in present day. False. Consolation.
Luckily, Bryan believes his “job isn’t to make people happy, it’s to achieve justice.”
Of course, his idea might upset the town’s consolation, false though it may be, so in comes the police, pulling him over in a scene suitable for a horror movie. As soon as he questions the officer, a pistol is pulled on him quicker than an outlaw could in a western.
“I ain’t a threat!” Bryan desperately tries to assure the officers.
“You oughta be careful with your words when you’ve got a gun to your head,” one of the two officers warns.
“Why did you stop me?” Bryan asks calmly.
“We’re letting you go. You should be happy.”
Again with the false consolation, as real as it may feel even just for the audience.
“One of you is guilty,” an officer told an innocent black man, “and if it wasn’t you...you’re taking one for your home,” implying exactly one death is as good as another. This line is pretty black-and-white, there’s no denying. Hate is ever-present. “I could tell he was guilty just by lookin’ at him.”
Director Destin Daniel Cretton has a way of keeping close to his characters and yet suggesting a raw, documentary feel, also present in his film “Short Term 12,” another brilliant movie. “Just Mercy” is a little methodical and simple, but strikes all the right notes in manipulating the audience into the hate and joy of the story. It’s the manipulation we need right now. “Green Book” had the simplicity of racism as well, which is so easy to dismiss. However, “Green Book” is another example of a true story, too.
I couldn’t help but imagining myself as Walter’s lawyer. Even in my dreams do I turn myself into a nightmare. The same feeling of anger I had in watching George Floyd’s “lynching,” I wanted to scream at any bystanders for help. But how can anybody breathe just by being present? It’s hard enough watching it.
Can a lawyer be a moderate? Can they pander to the jury for the sake of their defendant? Can false consolation really be sacrificed? How is this fake justice so powerful?
Brie Larson (also in “Short Term 12”) plays a character with a powerful scene in the end that might be painful for many lawyers. She’s essentially relaying advice given to her about the importance of not “getting close” to your clients.
“But I see now that’s bullshit. You love them like they’re your family.” How can you not?
It’s cowardice to not.
When George Floyd called out for his mother, how can you not hear that call as a mother? When you see others in need, how can you not see opportunity?
We can choose “fear and anger or rule of law.” If nothing else, watching this movie will remind you how free you really are...just to have the capacity to educate yourself. Act accordingly.
As for me, this was one of the few where I had to tell myself “It’s just a movie.”
At least I can admit when I’m wrong. - DirectorChristopher NolanStarsJohn David WashingtonRobert PattinsonElizabeth DebickiArmed with only the word "Tenet," and fighting for the survival of the entire world, CIA operative, The Protagonist, journeys through a twilight world of international espionage on a global mission that unfolds beyond real time.I couldn’t spoil the movie even if I tried.
It felt like a return to church. Typically, a congregation is there for each other, elevated by the shared experience in transcendent possibility granted us by similar material that ignites the imagination. Of course, every member of this “congregation” entered into the said “shared experience” during 2020, a year doomed to become an adjective. And let me tell you: This experience was a real 2020.
As the lights lowered, so did my facemask, but only for a sip of my brew or to capitalize on stolen fries (thanks, girlfriend). Others in the theater did the same thing, although they were slightly more liberal than I was with removing material that seemingly protects the air we breathe. The Flix Brewhouse Pre-Show consisted of scenes from past Christopher Nolan flicks such as “Inception” and “Memento,” two films that define his canon (like “Dunkirk,” time itself is used to serve the story). Also, we were enlightened, via video-special, about the painstaking protocol that the movie-theater staff have had to endure since Covid-19 became the Covid-20 that we know today. Did I feel safe? Well, I didn’t come to the theater to see a horror movie, even though fear is generally absent even if I were. Safety first, I get it. That’s how I “sell,” too.
The movie begins with a bang, literally. The sounds of guns in a theater (in only one case were they unwelcomed in a Nolan film, and that was in 2012 during a showing of Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight Rises,” which makes this first scene a little extra-intense because men enter an actual theater with machine guns) are extra-loud as if the audience is taken to a shooting range on a Michael Mann set (the same director Nolan imitated for the first scene of “The Dark Knight”). I’m once again transported into that transcendent possibility. The music is amazing. The action is intense. The scene demands attention. Keep in mind, this is my first film-going experience in over half a year, and hadn’t realized how much I’ve been longing for just a LOUD experience, but I am no stranger to watching films that are new to me. So the “transcendent possibility,” to me, remains a possibility, I’m afraid...
...Only…a possibility.
The shark is in your face in scene two. A Spielbergian discount trick, a new filmmaker won’t have the money to show the shark throughout the whole film, so the pop-shot, literally the shark popping its head out of the water, is an intense moment. The shark’s fin is teased only in scene 1, but as we go to scene 2, everything is explained (and the only interesting thing about the scene is the idea itself, which would have been just as well explained by, you know, watching the actual movie). Well, an explanation is given, anyway. Nothing is really “explained.”
Here’s the rundown, though…There is new technology. New to us (in the present), yet probably better understood in the future (when it is invented). This technology enables us to know the future by reliving the past. Doing so, re-experiencing the past, requires us to mirror the events as we (in the present) are inverted (into the past), literally moving backwards. To explain visually, you are driving a car whilst “inverted” (meaning: re-experiencing a past event), you will appear driving a vehicle backwards to those experiencing time going forward. Confusing? Not sure the science is clear, here. This is no “Interstellar.”
The entire show, I felt ready to punch myself for the sake of the film not knocking any sense into me. Cue: The Jerry Seinfeld stand-up bit where he’s in a darkened theater, whispering endless questions throughout a movie (because he’s confused) “Who’s that guy? What does he want? Why is she with him? Why is he like that? Why does she stay with him if he’s like that? Why did they ever have a kid together? Why did she kill him?”
“Ohhhhhh…well, it’s good that she killed him, then.”
Sitting in my seat, I literally became the meme: “MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!”
But that’s been me this entire year, this 2020 that we’ve gotten ourselves into.
“Tenet,” a palindromic title being more suggestive than meaningful (at least to the confused audience member that I was), seems meant NOT for us in the present. This film is NOT meant to be viewed only once. This film is made for our future selves (if you’re asking me). To watch the film almost requires a class to understand, although the story is pretty simple:
A woman stays with her abusive husband for the sake of being with her child. Yet, the child, a major character (in a twist that still doesn’t make sense to me), is essentially a MacGuffin (an object used for the story, but used only for character motivation, not a part of the real story).
What does this have to do with time travel?
What does Time Travel have to do with the story?
Well, it’s necessary to save the world. WHAT?
Oh yeah, the villain (the husband) wants to blow up the world.
So we need all these unnamed characters, essentially uninteresting versions of James Bond (there is…NO room for character development here).
What I really feel, having only seen it as my present self (although with reflection time as my future self, presently)…is this film falls victim to a filmmaker’s number one fear: Being pretentious. What I believe is that, with “Memento” and all the cinematic tricks that make it great (each progressive scene takes place prior to the previous one chronologically)…and “Inception,” another high-concept film that also borders on pretentious filmmaking…”Tenet” seems merely the next logical step. It’s as if Christopher Nolan asked himself “How have I yet to play with time?”
I’d even go so far as to say that Nolan is aware of his pretentiousness. Enter the token Michael Caine character, there for our protagonist (literally only called “The Protagonist” in this movie) to mistreat a server by trying to act like a rich snob only to be called out because he doesn’t look rich enough. This was the film’s one of maybe two attempts at humor. No time for that.
The trick itself has been done in countless movies. A scene is filmed and played backwards in the film. Usually this trick is done to mask the fact that the scene couldn’t otherwise be pulled off. Usually, this trick is done without the audience realizing it. Here, though, in “Tenet,” the audience is supposed to marvel at the filmmaking with plenty of “Ooohs” and “Ahhhhs,” and Nolan doesn’t have to worry about the audience asking “Would this movie work if it wasn’t filmed this way?”
That’s what happens with “Memento.” That’s what happens with “Dunkirk,” too (although, I’d argue that a complimentary film to “Dunkirk,” “1917,” could NOT have worked any other way than how the director made it). Every other Christopher Nolan film works gloriously (and it’d be worth it to watch them re-edited into chronological order). Here, “Tenet” could not be filmed another way because the filmmaking is the story (the “reverse-film-effect” IS central to the plot). And Nolan gets himself into trouble here. See, the movie is many movies. We have a dysfunctional family plot. We have a heist movie. We have a war film again, too (more reminiscent of “Full Metal Jacket,” as Nolan is a Kubrick-lover, but this is NO Kubrick film). And we have a futuristic time-travel movie (without feeling like a science-fiction film almost at all). And we have the reverse-film-effect concept in itself (when you blow up in an exploding car, you freeze with hypothermia), which is the “new technology” that the film wastes no time having to explain, although it does so in the only way possible, through analogy. Through idea. Through concept. Through show and tell. Well, tell and show. And the audience must buy this rather than think about it.
It feels like Nolan thought about it, but this is why I really must label this movie pretentious. Don’t take my word for it, though. The movie made me feel stupid, which is a natural side-effect of a pretentious film. Maybe you’ll be in for the car chases and the explosions without questioning the rest of it. But for a movie that provides so many answers, one wonders the questions that are being asked.
Or is it the other way around? - DirectorJeff Orlowski-YangStarsTristan HarrisJeff SeibertBailey RichardsonExplores the dangerous human impact of social networking; tech experts sound the alarm on their own creations.An ironic Facebook post here to say I shouldn’t be looking at Facebook so much. “Fake News” is a very real thing. Emotional manipulation is everywhere, so much so that we feel we can choose what we believe to be real (and we can, we can do that). We accept the reality that is given to us (a theme from “The Truman Show,” featured in this documentary), unaware...unaware of our own manipulations into our own reality.
We don’t have to accept what we’re told to accept, though. We can choose what to accept. We cannot choose what “truth” is, however, unless it becomes “our truth.” It is so important that we all are able to come together on what “truth” is. Until we are able to do this, we will continue to be divided. Because as long as it’s convenient to choose our “own truth,” it will be inconvenient to find peace with those who disagree with us. How can we come together on what “truth” is?
For this, I can only offer one thing: Reason.
Seems to work for me, anyway. But what shapes “reason?” What makes us “reasonable?”
Experience and awareness. These are my answers. Computers don’t have these things. They don’t have a value for “truth.” I didn’t “accept” everything in “The Social Dilemma,” but it did make me think. And reason. And as long as I’m able to reason (rather than give my reasoning responsibilities over to an algorithm that uses calculations in lieu of reason), I can live in abundance. - DirectorPete DocterKemp PowersStarsJamie FoxxTina FeyGraham NortonJoe is a middle-school band teacher whose life hasn't quite gone the way he expected. His true passion is jazz. But when he travels to another realm to help someone find their passion, he soon discovers what it means to have soul.
- DirectorDavid FincherStarsGary OldmanAmanda SeyfriedLily Collins1930s Hollywood is re-evaluated through the eyes of scathing social critic and alcoholic screenwriter Herman J. Mankiewicz as he races to finish the screenplay of Citizen Kane (1941).My favorite film of the year is one I’m biased to choose.
Let me tell you about my bias. If I go to a new film directed by one of my favorite directors, I go in having a great amount of trust. I mean, I feel safe. What I know, given to me by my trust, allows all other expectations to wait for me elsewhere while I truly live in-the-moment for the duration of the experience. I’m not always sitting down for a piece of entertainment, although one can always hope, as this should be the least of expectations. I’m not always hoping to enjoy what I’m about to watch, though. But when I sit down for a David Fincher movie, who is the finest director working today, there is no safety (this is “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” director). Where I trust him...is knowing that nobody else could do it better.
My bias here...with “Mank”...has me very conflicted. Not only is it masterful movie making, but the story elements touch on politics and religion in such a manner that the writing feels like it’s speaking just to me (these are, after all, two fascinating topics to the writer you’re now reading). And not only that, but he’s doing so in a charming classic-styled way that you’d see in movies like “Sunset Boulevard” (which is also about “old Hollywood”), which is to say not only are you being told stories in a lovingly entertaining way, but it’s as if an old friend is using his grand dialect that friends of his describe as an art form. Gary Oldman fills this position splendidly as Mank himself surely did.
Now...is “Mank” that great? Or...am I just biased?
Is “Citizen Kane” required viewing? Citizen “Mank” serves not as a prequel, but more as a spiritual remake to the RKO Pictures classic. Let me offer some brutal honesty, here: I don’t care about “casual audiences.” Movies should be made for movie lovers (music seems made for specific fans as well), and I have little patience for people who choose to “Netflix n chill” (okay, I’m guilty here) or, worse, just put a movie on as a preventative measure against feeling lonely without background noise. Gotta say, on that note, “Mank” would be a pretty lovely radio show.
These times, they are a-changin’. I’m talkin’ new Hollywood. I’m talkin’ “old” Hollywood. “Mank” is a fast-talking charmer of the sort you would find commonplace in a good “classics” section organized by Netflix IF Netflix ever put such a worthy effort into showing their viewers real movies (Turner Classic Movies does a better job on HBO Max, and it’s still pitiful). It’s a sad world they’ve created when a David Fincher movie can’t stay in the top 10 list on Netflix (it dropped off after day one) seemingly because of a lack of color.
Simply put, David Fincher (no stranger to biopics, he’s the director of “The Social Network,” and if I may call it a biopic, “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”) saw the future when he imagined the power of Netflix. The entertainment giant backed him for a political satire called “House of Cards,” making content produced by Netflix a force to be reckoned with. Now, they’re almost killing themselves with such an overwhelming output that their own movies are easily lost in the shuffle (and is it just me, or does everything, even a 3 1/2 hour Scorsese picture, feel “made-for-tv?”). David Fincher (who also directed “Se7en” and “Zodiac”) came back with another show for Netflix that he enjoyed directing called “Mindhunter,” which is another brilliant concept, endlessly fascinating, but a Season 3 isn’t even promised or guaranteed. Contracts no longer exist for it.
Now, with a big middle finger to Hollywood itself, Fincher is using his late father’s script (surely a passion project) to show how easily Hollywood was and can be changed with his first-ever straight-to-the-small-screen film, “Mank.” (His last effort was the anti-love story about two narcissists who get stuck in marriage by politics, “Gone Girl”) This one, like his Netflix shows, is also centered by politics.
Set in the aftermath of the depression, the brutality of the affects is background for this picture. Hollywood writers, however, are making great money for people to spend their very hard-earned nickels and quarters on. The transition to “talkies” has been made, after all, so “anyone who can put three words together” is being called upon. Our main character, Mank, a screenwriter for the movies (he claims to be washed-up, no longer talented enough to do better than movies), has insight into the propaganda that became a common practice for Hollywood directors (and even more so for foreign film people, especially in Germany where their people would believe anything that was repeated enough, not unlike our red-hat-wearing fellow citizens these past four years). The propaganda of the day is vital to the style of picture “Citizen Kane” became, which is the film Orson Welles hired Mank to write about the real-life newspaper tycoon, William Hearst (not exactly a man who would gag on a silver spoon). “Citizen Kane” became famous for the multi-perspectives and fancy camera work mixed with quick-cuts and invisible special effects all working together to create some of the greatest story-telling techniques ever that would revolutionize Hollywood...but what also invests people into the world of “Citizen Kane” is the believable “newsreel”-style footage that begins the 1941 picture that is known to be “perfect,” a very rare label appropriate for anything on film. Newsreel footage, shown here to be inspired by real “fake news.” Remember, Orson Welles was no stranger to using realism to sell his product. This is the same man who made headlines for a science-fiction radio play (“War of the Worlds”) that literally frightened listeners into believing aliens had invaded Earth (I’m unclear if this was literally literal, but I have seen the headlines, whether they were “fake news” or not).
Herman J. Mankiewicz, or “Mank,” is the writer behind the show, a credit that also went to the infamous Orson Welles for the sole Academy Award the film won (Academy voters were apparently unaware of the legacy the picture would have). Welles, who directed “Kane” and hired Mank to write it. “Mank,” as told by Jack Fincher (again, David’s father), seeks to deny Welles this credit, rejecting any chance for a “love letter” to the film or Hollywood (Welles was decidedly anti-Hollywood anyway, described here as an “outsider”), but more like a warning not to believe everything we see and hear (always good advice, but be wary of people who tell you not to believe ANYthing you see and hear). In one atmospheric scene of the Fincher film, we’re on a beach listening to radio. An interviewee is declaring her stance on exactly why she’s voting Republican in the next election, complete with a story of her own victimhood. Our main character and his lovely date then suddenly recognize the voice of said Republican voter (no doubt she could now be considered a method actor as it seems unlikely she would actually be voting for the “socialist” on the Democrat ticket). She’s an actress, not just a voter, and nothing of the sort she claimed to be. “I’d recognize that voice anywhere,” says Mank, listening to the sorry voice of America that is as fake as the character she’s playing.
Upton Sinclair (surprisingly played by...Bill Nye?) loses the election in 1934, believing the “phony newsreels” to be the fatal blows to his campaign. Mank, a fan, blames FDR, reminding us of the “hero” that would soon come to the rescue (a man who actually forced corporations and churches into anti-socialist efforts, bringing us to the divided states of America we see today, which is sadly not an irrelevant fact pertaining to this film...especially considering corporations have nearly destroyed today’s Hollywood...and thanks to this virus, we’re getting an advanced look at what could become of movie theaters).
The film is presented in a glorious 4K version, and a color version doesn’t even exist. This is meant to not only show the 1930s, but feel like a film from the era, too. The soundtrack is complete with the sounds of film scratches and audio flaws, and the picture itself is marked-up with what characters in “Fight Club” (another Fincher picture) called “cigarette burns.” “Mank” will be remembered as one of Fincher’s less accessible films (people are avoiding this not only because of a lack of color, but it is quite the “talkie”), made for writers more than cinephiles (which I wish were given more attention, although “old Hollywood” is given screen time even though it feels like less than a cameo). I kept waiting for visual sequences a la David Fincher prior, almost forgetting that the style of the film itself was presenting to me a visual feast. Every frame of a Fincher picture a painting. Each is carefully crafted (he normally certainly pays his dues to the auteur of “pure cinema,” Alfred Hitchcock), and yet it’s not unusual for his scripts to keep our eyes glued to the screen. It is written for political junkies as well, sure, but ultimately this is a story about story. Story itself is used to tell about story itself. Where do stories come from? That’s THE question this flick answers using one of the best movies of all time.
Just don’t ask about “Rosebud.”