Don't Look Up

Adam McKay's Don't Look Up picks up on a pesky political particular, the unfortunate despotic aspect of truth, as applied to commercial controversy.

As it's become plainly evident during the pandemic, at times truth does enter politics, void of cunning or incisive angles, just raw clear unimaginative data.

For the people willing to accept the truth value of the data, things remain rational and balanced, proceeding with impediments perhaps, but still reasonably and logically composed.

For those who doubt its legitimacy, or the well-meaning intent of the cultural guardians, the truth takes on a tyrannical aspect, however, and can effectively problematize polls and predictions as it honestly reveals frank shocking exposure.

The people in possession of the truth, in Don't Look Up's case two astronomers who discover a massive comet is going to crash into the Earth and destroy everything on the planet (Leonardo DiCaprio as Dr. Randall Mindy and Jennifer Lawrence as Kate Dibiasky), may be somewhat confused when they attempt to share their findings, and discover a virtually impenetrable network of ridiculousness, wholeheartedly designed to fight off tyranny. 

You see, when people attempt to spread mass lies on an enormous scale the system usually works, and generates enough doubt and troubling dismay to prevent rampant mistruth from mendaciously enabling.

But what happens on the other end of the spectrum when something both serious and true genuinely emerges, and has to pass the elusive litmus which initially regards it as obnoxious madness?

The people in possession of the knowledge may not be media savvy, and may have difficulty with their newfound designations, like the scientists in Don't Look Up.

And as the media crushes their dreams and makes them appear like snake oil salespeople, it also crushes blind ambition seeking widespread banal influence.

It makes any effort to sincerely pursue anything seem dispiritingly grim (besides being a part of the media), and it's no wonder alternative websites have im/moderately matriculated. 

But I suppose most stories aren't adamantly concerned with doomsday, it's just a byproduct of the pandemic that can't help but transmit that aspect.

I thought Don't Look Up was a brilliant take on truth in media, or the commercial politics of truth, as applied to the less media savvy.

I'm wondering what people will think of it 50 years from now down the road.

It seems like it has a timeless quality.

Made by Netflix no less. 

Vice

Why make a movie about Dick Cheney (Christian Bale) of all people?

Why?

Why do I have to write about this film?

Why!

With all the charismatic influential inspiring dynamic leaders out there, why choose to make a film about him, even if, in bizarro plutocrat lingo, those adjectives strangely apply?

The filmmakers admit they have little to go on yet revel in proceeding blindly nonetheless, and although they couldn't find much information about Cheney, they still stuck to that which they found, rather than creating a more balanced narrative, wherein which the speculative film, which they admit to making, takes imaginative precedence over headlined gossip and likelihood.

I'm not saying avoid what's supposed to be true or replace it with alternative fact, I mean that if you're imagining much of what took place anyways, imagine a more compelling film that narratively ties his different motivations together.

See so many Steven Spielberg films.

Vice is more like, "we know he did this, and it's believed he did that, and this is all we really have to go on, so we'll make the rest up but emphasize what we do know, or believe, even if the information we have writes a clunky story."

Not that it's a bad film, it's alright, and it's better than a lot of films that follow an individual's career over the course of a lifetime, but Cheney's just not such a bad guy for so much of it, in fact he's primarily depicted as a respectable family man who played by the rules for most of his career, and then suddenly he's this power mad mendacity prone borderline authoritarian, it's not that the facts aren't commercially presented, it's just that Vice hasn't much of a foreshadow.

If you admit you're making speculative pseudo-non-fiction why play your cards so close to your chest?, The Big Short certainly didn't and it made a more stunning impact.

As it stands, Vice isn't sure if Dick Cheney was a monster or just a fortunate hardworking man of self-made means.

It emphasizes that the second Iraq war was likely caused by him for self-centred reasons, but still goes out of its way to make him seem loving and kind, with prim bipolar whitewash, comedically applied.

It does explain where political obsessions with executive authority come from, and in the last scene Cheney appears like Khan in Star Trek into Darkness, boldly stating that many others would have done the same.

But many others wouldn't have done the same, and the bold speech at the end, which may win an Oscar, encourages stubborn self-obsessed self-aggrandizement regardless of communal consequence, and it's unclear if McKay is being critical of Cheney's ambition or trying to make it seem as wholesome as pumpkin pie.

He certainly makes his character sympathetic.

Spending more time coddling than criticizing him.

The Big Short

You wonder how much some of these characters really cared about the fate of the American masses during the 2008 economic crisis.

It's plausible that those who did care did in fact care.

Without them caring however, The Big Short does turn into a celebration of sorts of the lucky 0.00000000000001% who prospered excessively while the unknowing majority was ruined.

Conscience or convenience?

Without them the film definitely would have been tough to take.

Perhaps not.

It's really well written, constant motion following multiple characters who analyze their subject matter and conduct their research from varied perspectives, these perspectives vivaciously instructing audiences in paradigmatic peculiarities which crippled the global economy, while introducing several tertiary adjuncts who often make more than one appearance (editing by Hank Corwin) and diversify its critique of unsustainable capitalist expansion by illustrating both the reckless joys and famished dreams of the lenders and borrowers caught up in early 21st century frenzied financing.

Writers Charles Randolph (screenplay), Adam McKay (screenplay), and Michael Lewis (Book) may have been able to extract the ethical from this frame without stalling its momentum although the ethical focus does transport its erudite pedestrianism to the realm of the imaginative flâneur.

Holy crap The Big Short takes a lot of shots at the chaotic mechanics which oddly upheld American markets for a significant chunk of time and the people who profited from the resultant unrestrained disillusioning economic creativity.

It's a shame because the rampant charlatanism had given people earning modest livings the chance to live the American dream, houses, cars, microbrewed beer, poutine, it was just totally foundationless and eventually crashed unrepentantly, with basically no penalties, and according to The Big Short and recent forecasts by a Scottish bank, is ready to start frothingly socioproselytizing once more.

What do you do, do you live within your means without accumulating much debt or mortgage your life away and enjoy whatever you can get your hands on?

Can't answer that question, but sustainable development seems more profitable to me in the long run, conserving immaculate environmental and technological wonders in turn while eagerly seeking out sources of cultural and scientific mutation.

I did leave the theatre wondering if I had just seen one of the best films of the year or an exceptional Pop-Up Video collage.

But upon further reflection, I do think The Big Short is a contender, even if it's kind of raw-raw.

Thought-provoking conscientious unnerving entertainment.

Worth subsequent viewings, strong cast, well put together.

Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues

Ron Burgundy lead an extraordinary extracurricular promotional campaign leading up to the release of Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues, thereby suggesting that it must be an exceptional film, surpassing its comedic predecessor in varying degrees of hilarity, while stretching the boundaries of both ridiculousness and applicability, a voluminous viscosity, asinine yet chaste.

I'm used to seeing American comedies that are around 90 minutes in length but Anchorman 2 comes in at 119 according to its IMDB surrogate.

An out of the ordinary promotional campaign.

An extra 29 minutes.

Released a week before Christmas.

And Anchorman 2 delivers.

Ron Burgundy proves himself to be a sturdy bumbling honest easily upset independent intellectually discordant emotionally secure visceral champion for the everyperson, continuously and undauntedly moving forward, apart from when he decides to hang himself after a randy exhibition at Seaworld (see Blackfish).

He has his own polite style and definition of appropriateness which lead to conflicts when expressing himself within unknown vectors, yet he confidently bounces back and keeps focusing on the positive, action, reaction, proactivation, thereby inspiring his loyal news team.

Some team members function as reps for some somewhat revolting tendencies towards violence, but these tendencies are made to appear ludicrous, kind of, as Burgundy consistently outwits them.

The bats were a brilliant idea. The scorpions, the bowling balls, the bra covered in cats, the details, it's like every line and every scene were eruditely vetted by comedic veterans dedicated to making the best American comedy in years, many of the scenes appearing as if they were haphazardly thrown together, but you don't achieve this level of rowdy unconcerned reckless jocularity without patiently reviewing and editing every aspect of the production, while keeping in mind the havoc of the finished masterpiece simultaneously.

Film editing by Melissa Bretherton and Brent White.

Should I mention the battle?

The greatest most unexpected battle I've ever seen in an American film, with the Minotaur and a werehyena, that's right, a werehyena, plus a Canadian news team, introducing a fantastic sporty religious scientific historical mélange of postmodern acrobatic intensity, Alterius, Maiden of the Clouds (Kirsten Dunst) commencing the romp with her exclamatory horn, Vince Vaughn (Wes Mantooth), arriving at a pivotal, game changing moment.

Or Dolby? His song?

The figure skating?

The parenting?

Never really liked car chases but I do love animal stories.

Even better than Machete Kills.

Written by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby

Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby is consistently funny. There isn't much of a point which is nice. It concerns the life and times of Ricky Bobby (Will Ferrell) who wants to grow up and drive really fast. The comedy is produced by a number of extended awkward scenes wherein propriety is recast and reconstituted according to the guidelines of driving really fast (notably the grace, rehabilitation knife, and Ricky Bobby meets Jean Girard [Sacha Baron Cohen] scenes). Juvenile and spontaneous yet sophisticated and structured (editing by Brent White), the successful jokes and offbeat characters/situations thoroughly lap their demobilized opposition. Several themes appear, lay dormant, are referred to quickly, and then revitalized (Ricky's relationship with his father [Gary Cole] for instance), as a multidimensional cast adds different layers of comic sensitivity to the narrative. Ricky Bobby does drive really fast and so does his lifelong best friend Cal Naughton, Jr. (John C. Reilly). Worth several laps around the track, Talladega Nights presents and promotes a worthwhile down home country concern, with confidence and potency, the occasional piece of historical trivia, and a number of observations regarding values. It's well done.