I Guess I'll Write About Movies Now

I miss Johnny Carson. I miss the freewheeling, booze-soaked, and nicotine-stained party he created. As a kid, watching him late at night felt so transgressive, like I was getting a glimpse into an adult world I wasn't supposed to see. Late Night with the Devil  takes that idea and runs absolutely wild with it. From writer/director duo Cameron Cairnes and Colin Cairnes, Late Night with the Devil  has more story frames than Roshomon  and winds up being just as unreliable in its take on the truth. The conceit is that we're watching a documentary about a Satanic cult from the 1970s, and part of that documentary is a long-lost late night TV broadcast from a Halloween episode that included a demonic possession, and part of that  TV show footage is realtime behind-the-scenes footage of the studio during commercial breaks. The broadcast/BTS footage drops us into the frenetic and exciting world of live television in a very real and grounded way (once you get past the idea tha...

In 1997, Liar, Liar  showed us just how much of human existence is predicated on our ability to avoid the truth. Lies help us spare the feelings of loved ones and strangers. They give us hope. They keep us from getting fired every time we open our mouths within earshot of a manager. Lies give us comfort. But, at the same time, when we start to buy into those lies—getting high on our own supply, as it were—then those very same lies cripple us. When we meet Thelonious "Monk" Ellison at the beginning of American Fiction , he is crippled by fiction. He's an author and educator who has woven a story about who he is, how he fits into the world, and what he wants out of it, and by the end of the first scene, we see that it's falling down—hilariously—around his head. Monk isn't alone, of course. His entire familial existence is built on fictions they've been willing to tell each other and to believe, to varying degrees, for decades. Watching the film deconstruct these...

The "Demon Core" was a small sphere of plutonium. It wasn't much to look at, just a round, smooth lump of metal. But when handled improperly, it became lethal, killing two men in two separate incidents during the Manhattan Project. It's funny how such a seemingly anodyne thing can harbor such danger and power. I found Oppenheimer , much like the Demon Core, to be surprisingly powerful, and I am grateful that I was able to see it on the big screen. I will admit to a certain indifference toward Christopher Nolan's films. While they are always a thrilling ride, he has a tendency toward pedantry that makes repeated viewings something of a chore. Once you've seen Inception , for instance, all the scenes of patient explanation of the technology are kind of boring. His films are often built around intricate, thrilling plots within the narrative, and while they provide great tension and dynamism, the holes can become distracting once you re-visit the films. However, O...

I remember the 1990s fondly. We'd just defeated international communism and turned Russia into a thriving democracy, internet tech stocks were going to make us all rich forever, and Mel Gibson wasn't problematic. Is it any wonder that the 90s have been plundered by starry-eyed nostalgia prospectors, eager to find joyful nuggets of pop-culture to take the edge off of modern life? Like Weezer dressing up in 50s sock-hop chic and singing about Buddy Holly with 'The Fonz,' there's always value to be found in the past. Drive-Away Dolls  finds some of that joy, which is not at all surprising considering that it was co-written and co-directed Ethan Co-en. Sorry, that should be "Ethan Coen." That name might be familiar to people who watched movies in the 1990s, as he was responsible for some big flicks of the time, perhaps the most notable and durable being the one-two punch of Fargo  (1996) and The Big Lebowski  (1998). Now, I'll admit that it's unsettlin...

When I was in undergrad, I managed the distance learning technology for a capstone class in Liberal Studies (I think). It struck me that the class was full of adults. And not college adults, but actual  adults with careers and mortgages and informed opinions. They weren't taking this class to fulfill a credit. They were taking it because it mattered . There was something important here, something worth them giving up a semester of Friday nights and Saturday mornings to learn. They spent the entire semester studying the novel  Dune . I'd never read it before. In fact, I don't think I'd yet made it through David Lynch's version in one sitting. I just knew it was one of those doorstop books that nerds think are essential pieces of literature. It is. Despite Herbert's utter lack of restraint when it comes to word count, the original Dune  novel is a masterclass in management dos and don'ts, in exploiting people and events, and the endless value in being able to ...

In 1816, 18 year-old Marry Shelley tapped into her culture's inchoate fears of the burgeoning advancements in science and the threat they posed to humanity, and created one of the all-time great works of literature, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus . Her work has terrorized us for two centuries with dire warnings about what happens when our scientific reach exceeds our grasp. I wonder what she would think about artificial intelligence. Would she have written The Terminator , or Blade Runner ? Perhaps she would've written a better version of Wish . (Google "Disney Wish AI" for more on that) I doubt that she would look at artificial intelligence and come up with something as heartwarming, tender, and uplifting as The Wild Robot , but I'm so glad that someone did. Let's get some things out of the way: The Wild Robot is a near-perfect film. And I only call it "near" perfect because I haven't gone back to rewatch it yet. In terms of recent anim...

Ilse Aichinger's famous 1957 short story, "Der gefesselte Mann" ("The Bound Man") tells of a man who learns how to move with almost supernatural grace and strength while living within the limitations of his bindings. Once his bonds are removed, he doesn't know how to recreate his glorious acrobatic feats, and so he has to shoot a wolf and run away before he is killed by angry villagers and circus performers. I should've mentioned that it's a German story. Anyway, I've always found it interesting to think about how our limits can inspire us to find ways to exceed our expectations. And I sometimes think about how, once those limitations are taken away, we might find ourselves getting high on our supply and creating horrible, self-indulgent shit and confusing it for a magnum opus. That's all just a longwinded way of saying that Megalopolis is a masturbatory piece of garbage, and Francis Ford Coppola either needs to stick to making wines or surro...

This is an "m-e-double-s" mess of a movie. Here's the elevator pitch: Brandy and some dude are expecting a baby, and they have financial troubles that threaten to sink them until the dude's evil, elderly, racist stepmother moves into their Front Room  and proceeds to shit her pants so much that Brandy eventually kills her. Nothing about that pitch is false, but it does leave out some things. Maybe the old woman has supernatural powers, maybe she's possessed, maybe she can can communicate with dead babies, maybe Brandy has been driven insane by the loss of a previous child. I left those things out of the pitch because, while the film raises all these questions, it never fucking addresses them. And not in a "ooh, it's open to interpretation, you have to figure it out for yourself" kind of way, but more like a "meh, we ran out of time and film stock so we just didn't shoot the rest of the movie but you get the gist, right?" I cannot stress...

Have you ever lived in a home that has had coat after coat after coat of new paint slapped on to try and convince the inhabitants that what they're seeing every day is new and fresh and wonderful? Well, if you're not careful, then over the years the paint builds up and builds up builds up to the point where even the slightest bit of humidity means the doors swell up and lodge themselves shut, as all the normal breathing room has been taken over by layers of forgotten paint jobs. That's kind of what feels like happened in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice , except the doors were all forced open, and it seems like every plot idea and character was invited in and absolutely no one was left out. The result is that a lot of great stuff made it in, as did some stuff that should've been put to use elsewhere. All told, I enjoyed Beetlejuice Beetlejuice  for what it delivered, including the warning to filmmakers attached to legacy projects that sometimes less is more, and when you bring a...

I'm going to keep this short, and not because spoilers would ruin Strange Darling , though watching the plot unfold in its own time is a moviegoing joy on par with the original Psycho  or Vertigo . Rather, I'll be tending toward brevity because if I don't, I'll just be writing about this movie all night. Strange Darling , written and directed by JT Mollner, is a beautiful throwback to the hyper-verbal and hyper-violent Gen X indie flicks of the mid to late 90s. Strange Darling  gives us quirky characters in moody lighting who expound at length on their personal philosophies, then engage in some freaky bedroom behavior and take some synthetic drugs. And it all transpires before a bunch of people get super killed, and we're left wondering if nihilism is a good worldview or the greatest worldview. Plus, there's a sprinkling of pop culture references (starting with the Texas Chainsaw Massacre -style intro text and voice-over) and way more cigarettes than I've se...

Whenever I see videos of entomologists allowing ticks or leeches or some other bloodsucker to feed off them, my second reaction is one of respect. There's something powerful about being so committed to understanding another species that you let them pierce your skin and steal your goddamned blood just so you can get to know them better. That's impressive, you weirdos. But it's also horrific, and when you replace your skin with the skin of an unwitting participant in your study, well, it gets to be downright terrifying. That's not exactly what Cuckoo  is about, but it's as close to the truth as I'm able to get without spoiling the whole thing. What I can tell you is that Cuckoo  takes place in the present day, entirely at an alpine resort/forest preserve in Germany, and that it is delightfully unhinged. Hunter Schafer stars as Gretchen, a 17ish year-old from the US who recently lost her mother and is now forced to live with her father, stepmother, and step-sister...