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. 

Late Night

A fresh unsung outspoken new talent (Mindy Kaling as Molly Patel) suddenly finds herself writing for a popular late night talk show.

Its ratings have been slipping as of late however, and its charismatic host (Emma Thompson as Katherine Newbury) is bluntly searching for new ideas.

But she's become somewhat detached from the scene over the years and could be criticized for having lost the human touch, and although she excels at lauding the high brow, she still has yet to warm up to bold YouTube and Twitter theatrics.

Etcetera.

When she discovers her network is hoping to replace her, she has to dig deep and reimagine her worn image.

Thus she actually sits down with her writing team to quickly craft an alternative plan.

They're as uncertain of how to proceed as she is, since it's been years since she's taken an active role in her show's production, and doesn't even recall the majority of her staff's names.

It can be like that, so she gives them all numbers, acclimatizes herself to workplace codes she's forgotten, and slowly begins the painstaking process of improvised identity transformation.

Thankfully Ms. Patel is as unfamiliar with showbiz ego as Ms. Newbury is with contemporary audiences, and though she's reprimanded openly for plainly expressing her raw ideas, Katherine and her staff soon realize she has something to say.

She's in touch with postmodern pressures, and couldn't have come along at a more opportune time, sharing her ideas just audaciously enough, to make enlivening game changing droll ratings impacts.

Late Night excels at convincingly cultivating change.

Its clever script and dynamic characters compellingly fluctuate as the film progresses, offering insights into diverse social phenomena (dating, moving to a city, marriage, working, friendship, rivalries, social media, popularity, competition, . . .) while confidently managing constant change.

Like thermodynamic life in motion, Late Night flexibly introduces conflict and camaraderie, their schematics realigned as trial and error deconstructs, characters readily adapting to the unpredictable shifting frame.

The characters aren't ideal or all-knowing, flaws abound as they search for solutions, but they're strong enough to move forward after having proceeded in error, or to celebrate success without losing sight of the cold and fleeting.

Real world.

Late Night's super real world and professionally polished, but since Ms. Newbury's persona has to be creatively redefined, unorthodox grit leads to splotches and blemishes, which gradually emerge as best practices themselves.

For a time.

Must be hard to harness all the conflicting creativity and transform it into a convincing narrative night after night.

Films and books can be worked on for years, but late night talk shows unreel in real time every night.

Weeknight.

It's remarkable how they remain relevant year after year while existing in permanent flux.

Balancing the random with tropes and traditions.

Always moving forward regardless.

Best American comedy I've seen since The Big Sick.

Impressive realistic fiction.