Whisk away The French Dispatch

Going to see The French Dispatch felt like I was prepping for a homework assignment; sitting through it was even more excruciating, like taking the SAT. Or like visiting a museum for two hours, but there’s only one good – but not necessarily great – artist on display. Not that Wes Anderson isn’t great. He is.

But I just wasn’t excited about this one. I had a gut instinct that it would be a disappointment, and my gut was right.

The movie consists of vignettes contrived for the sole purpose of indulging Anderson’s artistic urges. I’ve written previously about how great Wes Anderson can be. But no matter how unique and special any filmmaker’s artistic abilities are, there still must be a good story at the heart of any good movie. Or in this case, to take it as it is given, a set of good stories – as this is an anthology film.

There is a decent tale or tale and a half. The prison-artist story wasn’t bad, and early on, there were a couple near-chuckles. Mainly, though, The French Dispatch is a colossal bore alleviated only by all those artistic renderings. Those numerous, uniquely Anderson idiosyncrasies don’t carry the day. This is not the best exhibition that Anderson has put on, and, worse, it’s all a facade hung upon an empty mirage of nothingness. Or something like that.

I commented to a coworker that Wes Anderson films are event pictures. So too are P. T. Anderson films — and guess what the first trailer was? The new P. T. Anderson movie Licorice Pizza. Here’s hoping that singular artistic and filmmaking vision yields happier results. And yes, I am excited about it. [UPDATE: Saw Licorice Pizza, it was great. Stay tuned.]

The French Dispatch: tedious and a chore. 4/10

Comparison Notes: All the other Wes Anderson movies, Mystery Train, Night on Earth, Certain Women

Cinéma français passionnant: Titane

There’s been a lot of bad French movies lately, with few good or great ones. Which is personally disappointing, since I started my indie movie-watching career awash in one great French film after another. But at least for what’s supplied to the American market, there is definitely a high representation of strong, independent female lead characters — especially when compared with what the USA produces. And with French film, you can always count on a different flavor than anything American.

Titane starts strongly, and compellingly, with a good core story that was left to wilt a bit. It moved quickly, though — when it ended, I was a little surprised that it was over already. After an incredibly dynamic first third, the movie slows a bit and takes some unexpected turns which in the moment made me wish other directions were taken. But you can’t always get the movie you want. The magic of great films is that they surprise you — and I love when things get unpredictable.

Which both does and does not happen here. Titane, like this director’s Raw, is just not as edgy as it makes itself out to be. The envelope full of potential explosions wasn’t pushed to the max; instead, the flow of new ideas, or at least good new ideas, slows considerably in the second half.

Still, a lot of points for being different, and in any case a solid recommendation. It did win the Palme d’Or, Cannes’ top prize, which means something I suppose. For me, it’s a high 7/10.

Comparison Notes: Holy Motors, The Skin I Live In, Gasoline, La Femme Nikita, Splice, Antichrist, Nymphomaniac, Christine

Film Brief: Blue Bayou

Blue Bayou is good, with great performances. Just don’t confuse it with the Disneyland restaurant. Side-but-not-really question: how did this guy get Alicia Vikander?

That aside, I was wavering on an 8, but there’s nothing that quite pushes it to that level. 7/10.

Comparison Notes: Beasts of the Southern Wild, The Visitor (2007), about a thousand other like-minded pictures that I can’t think of right now

You Cry Macho, then you Cry, Cry Again

Yes, that’s a Seinfeld reference.

There’s a small kernel of a nice romantic story embalmed within Cry Macho, but it’s not enough. Comparison to The Old Man & the Gun cannot be avoided, with venerable, veteran actors at the twilight of their careers and life on screen, and with some plot similarities. But the Redford picture was vastly superior.

Good acting is par for the course in almost all movies these days, but Cry Macho’s was, to be generous, pedestrian; to be neutral, barely passable; and to be brutally honest, an unacceptable failure. Even Clint Eastwood seemed to forget how to be Clint Eastwood.

But the worst part was the absolutely anemic story, pushing Cry Macho close to the non-movie border.

* * *

An older couple next to me in the theater thoroughly enjoyed it. As I was leaving, they asked if I liked it and I said “sure,”…  no point in being honest there. They cared enough to ask what I thought of it, and I cared enough to fib. They enjoyed it and I’m glad they did.

But for me — and anyone reading this: 3/10

Comparison Notes: the aforementioned Robert Redford movie, Hell or High Water, The Mule and other latter-era Eastwood pics, The Straight Story, Lucky, Nebraska, Eyes Wide Shut

Final Note: I love Clint Eastwood, and I hope he can squeeze out one more movie befitting his legendary career. Something on the level of Gran Torino may be too much to ask for, but how about something simple and honest, like The Straight Story?

Film Brief: Candyman

New year, still catching up…

Candyman features some good bits, like the art world setting, but is mostly unoriginal, and, worse, just plain boring. It’s only about 90 minutes, but a drag anyway. Not the draggiest thing, but as a comparison, Old moved.

Which is too bad — there’s a good ‘vibe’ here and it’s a movie I wanted to like. Helping too are some cool artistic effects, for example the shadow puppets. But as the film creaked toward the end, I thought: there’s no way I would recommend this. 5/10

Comparison Notes: It / It part 2, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Us, Halloween, Scream