2015 at the Movies - The Best, the Worst, and Everything Else - Part 2
Do you feel it? It’s not the chill of winter, but the cold, empty feeling of January in movie theatres. I’m looking at you, Michael Bay, and your 13 Hours debacle...
Anyway, to restore some warmth, Jason Chen and I are back with part 2 of our epic discussion on the movies of 2015! After tackling the first half of the year in the last post, including the misfires in the beginning of the year, some nice surprises in the spring and the always-hectic summer movie season, it’s on to the buzzy, award-seeking movies of the fall and early winter. Read on for the full back-and-forth, including Sicario, The Martian, Bridge of Spies, Room, The Big Short and The Revenant. Oh, and some extra-geeky material on Star Wars, because it’s kind of a given.
ROBERT
At the risk of making you feel jealous about TIFF again, I saw some good stuff at the festival, but surprisingly few of the big names that are dominating the pre-awards season buzz. One that I did see at TIFF that I desperately hope more people will see is a film called Mr. Right, with Sam Rockwell and Anna Kendrick. Rockwell plays a sweet-natured hitman who's gotten tired of the assassin game, and decides that he's only going to kill the bad people who try to hire him. He falls in love with Kendrick's character, a paleontology grad who's having a quarter-life crisis. He's constantly honest about his job, but she just thinks he's joking, and it builds into a very fun climax. The whole thing is very idiosyncratic and maybe a bit derivative, and I loved every minute of it.
JASON
As a big Anna Kendrick and Sam Rockwell fan, Mr. Right sounds hilarious. It sounds a little like Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. I’ll have to check it out.
ROBERT
Another stand-out from September was Sicario, by Denis Villeneuve. I still haven't seen Enemy (but plan to soon) and my only reference for the director before seeing his latest was Prisoners. Even so, I got completely wrapped up in Sicario - the atmosphere, the performances and the politics. I liked how Emily Blunt's character is a subtle remix of what we'd expect from a female cop leading a movie like this - she's professionally successful but antisocial, and her strength comes from how she picks herself up from being pushed around by all the men in the film. For that reason, as well as the skin-tingling score and Roger Deakins' cinematography, it's one of the films from this year that I'd love to own on a Criterion release.
JASON
Sicario was great, although I have two major gripes. One, I dislike the fact that the title gives the movie away. It was the first off-screen interrogation scene with Del Toro early on in the movie when I figured out what “sicario” meant. Two, the original ending, where Del Toro completely breaks down Blunt and asserts full control over her, I think was much better. Scenes where two characters lock eyes in a "moment of understanding," not unlike Furiosa and Mad Max at the end of Fury Road, can be hard to pull off, and I find that the less ambiguous ones work best. The ending in Sicario was totally ambiguous, and that might've been the only thing that didn't work for me. I think Prisoners was a better effort, to be honest.
ROBERT
I was less concerned with the spoiler-y title of the film, but I do agree that the ending was too ambiguous. Maybe the point was to show that the warning by Del Toro's character (about the consequences if Blunt's character ever pointed a gun at him again) mattered less now that his mission was complete. The problem is that there's not enough visual or script evidence to prove that theory, so I was left unsure of how to interpret their final shared gaze. If the film had a more concrete final sequence, I think it could have been a 4-star knockout.
October brought along The Martian, which I know you were anxious to see. One of the things I tried to do in my official review was to compare The Martian to Christopher Nolan's Interstellar and Alfonso Cuaron's Gravity. All three films present space travel in the context of scientific exploration and the human condition, but I think The Martian was the most effective at communicating the pro-science message. It's all about the step-by-step problem solving by this one marooned astronaut (Damon) and how he doesn't let anything get him down. Ridley Scott also struck a better balance of humour and drama than Nolan did in some respects, making The Martian more of an audience-pleaser than an existential head-scratcher. I'll always defend Interstellar against the haters, but if I had to pick one of the two films to recommend to a casual moviegoer, it would be The Martian.
JASON
The Martian was good because it wasn't preachy. It was a straight-up escape film, except instead of a prison, it's a planet. I think that's where most of this appeal is, where a guy is trying to right a wrong not of his doing. In that sense, it was more like The Shawshank Redemption, where the main character uses some ingenuity and creativity to get out of his situation. Other space films like Interstellar tend to be more heavy-handed and can't resist the urge to make some sort of philosophical statement about space travel, the meaning of life and humankind and the "great beyond."
I appreciated that The Martian was very self-contained and that it didn't need to burrow into the human psyche to make it interesting. It's certainly one of the top films of the year, but I can't help but think that in five years, this will be one of those solid movies that ends up being kind of forgotten, not unlike American Gangster. In Ridley Scott's library, this is nowhere near his top works.
I also saw Joy, and I don't get the negative criticism. It's so rare for a David O. Russell film to be so focused on a single idea, and that in itself should be celebrated. This isn't American Hustle or Silver Linings Playbook, where the psychosis of the characters really keep the film movie and on the edge of your seat. Instead, Joy is a pretty straightforward yarn, but one that has quite a few emotional twists and turns. If you walk in expecting fireworks - forget about it. It's not that kind of movie. It has a very clear and defined plot, a clear character arc and fine acting. I don't see what's not to like, unless this type of film just isn't your cup of tea.
ROBERT
Now that you've described Joy in those terms, I'm actually likely to bump it up a few notches in my January prestige-film-catch-up binge. It's encouraging to think that Russell is adjusting his structure a bit as he continues to work with his favourite players (Lawrence, Cooper, De Niro). I'm all for supporting him in his effort to depict his specific understanding of America (my going theory about Russell's recent work), but if Joy had been made in the template of its immediate predecessors, I worried that it might feel stale.
I'm curious whether the mixed reaction to Joy will have any effect on his next movie. I doubt it, however, since the director doesn't seem like the type to respond like that. Even so, I'd welcome a Russell movie that brought back some the weird, experimental visuals and editing he used in Three Kings.
Other movies of note (before we get into November-December) are Bridge of Spies, Crimson Peak and Room...
Spies was exactly the kind of strong filmmaking we'd expect from Steven Spielberg at this point in his career, but I ended up not reviewing it here on the site, maybe because I was channeling my inner Jason (Jason: YES!!! Conversion finally complete) and wanting something a little different from Spielberg. As well-told and beautifully shot as the film is, I think it might end up blending in too much with the other films the director's made about Important American Stories, like Lincoln or Saving Private Ryan.
As an avowed Guillermo del Toro fan, I got very wrapped up in the sets, creature design and mood of Crimson Peak. And I enjoyed that Del Toro hinted Crimson Peak could be considered part of a loose series, set it in the same world as two of his other (and better) films: The Devil's Backbone and Pan's Labyrinth. It's important to note that horror fans should not see these movies expecting traditional ghost movies; Crimson Peak doesn't string you from jump scare to jump scare; it tries to be more character driven, and though it's not always effective at that, I'd still recommend it for fans of Gothic literature or Del Toro himself.
I won't say a whole lot about Room, since the less you know about it the more you'll appreciate it. I won't say enjoy it, since it's far from a happy-go-lucky story. But it's an example of pretty brave filmmaking. Director Lenny Abrahamson was trying something very different from his last film (a weird comedy called Frank), and he resisted temptations to make Room easier to swallow. He wasn't afraid to break open the myth that survivors of long-term abuse heal and move on right away, as soon as they're freed from their abusers. Heavy, but important stuff.
JASON
I'll also get started on The Force Awakens, which I've already seen twice, and to my own amazement, I find it much better the second time. I was a little disappointed the first time, having just seen "J.J. Abrams presents... A New Hope" rather than the start of a truly original story, but that's Abrams for you. He's very good at re-packaging stuff. Super 8 was a love letter to Close Encounters and Into Darkness was a carbon copy of Wrath of Khan.
ROBERT
We went into loads of detail on Star Wars recently, so there's no shortage of things to talk about with The Force Awakens. The first time I saw it (in IMAX 3D), I was kind of blown away with relief, maybe since I shared the same apprehension that a lot of fans have spoken about online. They describe the feeling of watching intently and constantly asking yourself, "Is this as good as I think? This isn't a Phantom Menace-esque false positive, right?" The second time I saw it, I knew it was good, and I could relax and get even more value out of it.
JASON
If you view it from Abrams and Disney's point of view, the goal of The Force Awakens was to introduce a new generation of Star Wars fans. You could argue that original prequel trilogy was supposed to do that for our generation (I saw The Phantom Menace when I was 11) except it fell flat on its face. It's a two-hour commercial for toys and other merchandise (full disclosure: I own some of the LEGO sets), and if the bottom line is the most important part of the movie (as is often the case with franchises), then there's a lot less incentive to stray from what works, and in this case, A New Hope.
I think the second film will be much better, just as Empire is far superior to A New Hope, but also because I think Rian Johnson is a director that brings a lot of fresh and new ideas to the table. Abrams is very good at integrating things, but maybe not the best at taking risks. Sometimes those risks pay off and sometimes they don't, and in the case of The Force Awakens, a project worth billions and a tent pole film for a new generation, going back to A New Hope wasn't a bad idea. It certainly lays down the groundwork for the future. I'm far less critical than Jonathan Kay, though I do understand where he's coming from.
ROBERT
I'm not opposed to the strong doses of New Hope and Return of the Jedi plotting in The Force Awakens, because there's something to be said for the good vs. evil catharsis and simple pleasures that Lucas distilled in the original film. It's a formula, but one that entertains and acts as a skeleton to support other ideas. For example, the concept of a female lead (and a Jedi) whose story can inspire a new generation of viewers, and maybe go even further (culturally speaking) than Princess Leia's character in the original trilogy. Or the concept of exploring race in the Star Wars universe via Finn's story, as well as the post-traumatic stress and indoctrination he experienced as a Stormtrooper.
From those perspectives, I try to stay away from reducing The Force Awakens to a "New Hope redux" or a vehicle for toy sales. Sure, the new movie is absolutely those things, but we shouldn't downplay the way the film act as a delivery mechanism for important themes, which in turn expands its cultural impact.
That leads me to Johnson's involvement, which you're right to point out as a great opportunity. We've already seen what happened when Lucas had all the creative control that he craved, and we've also seen that the greatest entry in the series so far came when Irvin Kershner was hired to direct The Empire Strikes Back. It reminds me of the Mission: Impossible series, which has thrived by having a new director helm each chapter. The series retains its formula and appeal, but showcases the strengths of each director.
JASON
There are things I can totally nitpick, like Poe Dameron's deus ex machina character, Kylo Ren as the newest pouty Disney princess and John Boyega's constant panicking, but nothing will get me down on the film because Lucas isn't there anymore to screw it up. The biggest thing that separates the new trilogy from the previous ones - and it's a glaring, obvious improvement - is the script itself. The dialogue feels natural and the characters engage in conversation rather than line reading, and as a big fan of snappy dialogue, I really appreciated it.
I just can't explain how happy it makes me that Lucas and his stilted dialogue and unnecessary CGI is relegated to the sidelines for this new trilogy. I will never forgive him for ruining the Anakin Skywalker arc. One of the best characters in the history of film whose defining moment was probably the pod racer sequence. Yikes. As Harrison Ford once said, "George, you can type this shit, but you can't say it!!!"
ROBERT
The most recent online flareup about the Lucas interview where he slags Disney's creative direction just adds to the evidence in favour of the new approach to Star Wars. Lucas is a much more complicated guy than most give him credit for, and he pays for it time and again. He simultaneously loves and hates his creation, and it's obvious in how he talks about it and how he designed the prequels and the re-edits. He's always chasing this "perfect" version of Star Wars, and he can't admit that he doesn't have the skills in the right areas to make it perfect (if it's even possible to make such a film). He's a talented world-builder, but screenwriter and director? Nope. I'd also love to get into Lucas' absolute contempt for the fans, whom he seems to regard as the worst thing that ever happened to Star Wars, but that's a whole other discussion.
JASON
Moving away from Star Wars...The Big Short is short on just about everything, and that makes it the most overrated film of the year among those circling the big awards. Veteran comedy director Adam McKay's foray into drama was neither here nor there because The Big Short lacks any sort of real dramatic tension (maybe it's because we all knew what happened later) or comic relief. It's more documentary than film, and a lot more preachy than it needs to be. Yes, we all know who the bad guys are on Wall Street. Yes, we know they're not in prison. Yes, there were people who foresaw it, and there were some who either ignored it or profited greatly from it. And, dammit, I swear the word "fraud!" was hissed and shouted at least 510,247 times.
ROBERT
I think it's one of those very rare times when I agree with your star rating. I saw you gave it a 3 out of 5, and as much as I like plenty of the ideas in McKay's new movie, the thing that drags it down for me is the structure. For example, the little asides by Margot Robbie, Anthony Bourdain and Selena Gomez are funny and novel at first, but they're not worth much more than a chuckle and some further visual explanations for all the complex banking terms. The latter is actually something that a few of the characters (namely Ryan Gosling's character) already have a handle on, so the cameos feel too much like they're there because they can be, not because they should.
JASON
McKay just can't break free from the "coolness" of hating and criticizing the rich/wealthy/1% (whatever you want to call it). Those celebrity cameos, like all cameos, are just gimmicks. The most interesting part of the film was probably in the beginning, when it introduced Lewis Ranieri, the Saloman Partners executive who traded mortgages (in the much more fascinating Michael Lewis book, "Liar's Poker") and supposedly created a mortgage-trading market that precipitated the film's events in the 1970's, but then abandoned him midway through. We only know what happened to the people who saw the financial crisis coming, but almost nothing about the people who created it or suffered from it, all of them substituted by cheap caricatures of the "asshole banker" and "person from corporate."
ROBERT
I can see why Steve Carrell got some Oscar buzz once again, even though he didn’t get a nomination. Out of anyone in the movie, he puts in the best work. Nevertheless, the film around him felt too loose to me; like a bunch of short films pieced together, which would have been stronger if they were told apart. It makes me wonder if The Big Short is another example of a film that could have been flat-out amazing if it were told in a serialized format, with individual episodes about each group of characters, given the quality and care given to TV shows now. Even the cameo sequences that break the fourth wall would fit better in this format.
I also like your point about how it's more of a documentary than a narrative film. Ultimately, McKay, his producers and even his cast want to educate their audience and do it in a entertaining way, and it's hard to say whether a feature film will accomplish that in a way that matters. We might think we know more about the financial crisis after watching The Big Short, but what are we going to do about it? Does the film drive us to do something in the way that a true documentary - or one hosted by celebrities and mixed with dramatic re-enactments - might?
How about the last big film of 2015 (or at least the one that’s racking up the most awards attention) - Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s The Revenant?
JASON
Okay, so here's the thing about The Revenant. It's not Iñárritu’s best work - I think Birdman was better - but it's incredibly raw and visceral, and driven mostly by its strong performances. The source material is rather simple and the plot isn't hard to piece together, so the end product is something along the lines of The Last of the Mohicans, where you really have to be invested in the characters to appreciate the film. There was a lot of controversy surrounding the difficult shoot, and it's probably one of those things you don't notice unless it's not there, but shooting that film in natural light wouldn't have been easy.
ROBERT
In broad strokes, I agree. Birdman is probably a better overall film, in the sense that Iñárritu tried something fresh with his shooting style (or at least something the average viewer noticed right away), and told a more complex story. However, I think The Revenant plays better for people who want to spend time unpacking the way it was shot, like the natural light, the blizzards or the river escape DiCaprio's character Hugh Glass makes from the Arikara (Ree) tribe. When you really compare the technique of the two films, they kind of equal out; Birdman has that perfectly planned, one-take look that glides around its characters, while The Revenant grabs you by the throat and immerses you into the wilderness with Glass.
JASON
As far as slow burn films go, I think The Assassination of Jesse James is a more compelling story, so The Revenant isn't the best, but it's up there. Imagine The Grey with a much heavier dose of violence and more contemplating life than talking about life. I think this is DiCaprio's best performance yet, based on the difficulty of the role and how much of this film depends on his acting to succeed, much like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Tom Hardy plays a good foil and his nomination is well-deserved, and it's probably just me, but I'm not sure this is his best performance. I think Bronson is still his best work.
ROBERT
As for the plot, I don't mind its simplicity. I defer to Roger Ebert's wisdom here, in how he used to ask himself what a film sets out to do when it begins. What is the goal in The Revenant? To tell a hard-core survival and revenge story, something that boils down its few characters to their most animalistic tendencies. And, at the same time, the movie tries to show how insignificant this struggle is compared to the vast landscapes around the characters. If we judge The Revenant on how well it delivers on that promise, it's pretty fantastic.
JASON
The Revenant will be one the films we will likely be talking about for quite some time because there's so many different ways to interpret it.
The simplicity of plot isn't necessarily a criticism. Films like The Raid, Fury Road or Drive have very simple plots, but all were done very well. In fact, I would prefer a simple plot to an overly complicated one. The one thing that gets me, however, is when something very simple is dragged out for a very long time. This would be my case against The Revenant, and Iñárritu's films in general, is that he always really wants to drive the point through. He's like the kid in class who every so often tends to yell out: "LOOK AT WHAT I CAN DO!!!" How many scrapes, bruises and how much blood does the audience need to see before they get the idea?
ROBERT
True - at points, you begin to wonder how much more Glass can possibly endure, and that can make it difficult to suspend disbelief or engage with the symbolism of the visuals. Then again, I wonder if the unrelenting slog in the film is intentional - reflecting the irony of these few people grappling desperately with each other in the gigantic forest. For me, the best example of this is when Glass is first crawling away from the makeshift grave dug for him and comes to a cliff overlooking a valley. As he looks out over everything, the camera sweeps away from him, and I realized that Iñárritu might be highlighting the simplicity and insignificance of Glass' quest on purpose. From a bird's-eye view, sure, all Glass accomplishes is to crawl back from death and track down his enemy. But it's more of a way of meditating on how big the world is, and how futile revenge can be when placed in that context. I think Tom Hardy's character Fitzgerald realizes that right near the end, when he taunts Glass by telling him that Glass has survived so much to get to where they are, so "you better enjoy your revenge."
JASON
But there seems to be less self-reflection in The Revenant than in other survivor films, including Rescue Dawn or The Pianist, although I will freely admit that there's still some symbolism in the film that I still don't quite get, including a scene where Glass hallucinates a church with Jesus on a cross and hugging his son. There are plenty of shots that showcase your so-called "animalistic tendencies," which I would simply describe as the basic human need of survival, showcasing the various lengths people would go to just to stay alive. I think this was most apparent when Glass pulls a Han Solo, gutting a horse and stays in the carcass for the night to stay warm.
I won't disagree with you, but I'm not convinced Glass' tale of revenge is "insignificant." The vastness and coldness of the wild I would argue is a juxtaposition against Hugh's warmth and humility. His thirst for revenge, a strong emotional response and timeless tool for movie drama, is in stark contrast to a harsh winter that plays no favourites, but both are similarly unforgiving. Unlike everyone else in the film, he refuses to abandon anybody even in the most dire of situations, unlike Gleeson or Hardy. He becomes friends with the wandering Pawnee man because they seem to share a genuine positive emotional connection with each other that all the characters in the film don't.
It’s most evident in the scene where they share a small laugh while catching snowflakes in their mouths. And it's a classic tool in revenge films to have the one seemingly overlooked noble act - Glass saving Powaqa from the French - end up saving him in the end to make things come full circle. I would say The Revenant, which basically means someone who has returned from the dead, is about DiCaprio's deep well of emotions, the most "living" and perhaps worthwhile aspect of human life, even though he is left for dead. His wounds are superficial but his spirit remains indomitable.
ROBERT
I gotta say, I like the idea of Glass being the force that’s “warming” the cold landscape. It certainly puts more agency back into his role in the film, as opposed to the way I originally thought about it. It proves why it often helps to break these movies down in these discussion posts!
To close out this year’s edition of the Year in Review, let’s compare our best attempts at a Top 10 for the year (a task I know we both struggle with) Ready...go!
- Mad Max: Fury Road
- Ex Machina
- The Martian
- Sicario
- Star Wars: The Force Awakens
- The Revenant
- Mr. Right
- Spectre
- Spotlight
- Me and Earl and the Dying Girl
Honourable Mentions: The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Ant-Man
JASON
- Mad Max: Fury Road
- Inside Out
- The Revenant
- Ex Machina
- Sicario
- Joy
- The Martian
- Creed
- Star Wars: The Force Awakens
- Ant-Man
I had a lot of trouble with No. 10. Had I seen Carol, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, Spotlight, Room or even Brooklyn, I'm sure one of them would've taken that spot. I know I missed out some good films this year, but I’ll catch up on the rest, I swear. I originally had The Big Short in that slot, but overall I just wasn’t very impressed by the film, so I’ll default to my man Paul Rudd and the enjoyable Ant-Man.
ROBERT
And that wraps up Part 2! To all of you intrepid readers who made it this far, call us out below if we missed any big releases that needed more attention. And if you liked this post, share it with your friends and followers!