Two for Tuesday
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Saturday Matinee: The Animal Kingdom
By Monica Castillo
Source: RogerEbert.com
Another day, another traffic jam. A father, François (Romain Duris), chides his son Émile (Paul Kircher) for feeding the family dog potato chips. He tells his son to stay away from them as well since they’re probably not very good for him, and Émile rolls his eyes as any 16-years-old would. They argue. Émile gets out of their car in defiance since the traffic is at a standstill. Suddenly, an ambulance stuck in the opposite lane of traffic starts to wobble and out bursts a bird-like man. He escapes, and the son and the father run back to their car in shock. “Strange days!” a neighboring driver responds. It is an understatement.
In Thomas Cailley’s striking sci-fi fantasy “The Animal Kingdom,” the birdman is a sign of things to come. In this present-day world, some humans have started to genetically mutate into other species, morphing into winged, reptilian, beastly hybrids that the larger non-mutated society have decided to ostracize, keeping them in hospitals or zoo-like centers away from the rest of the population, even their loved ones, for the potential risk that they can hurt someone with their outsized claws, fangs, and wings.
This was the case for Émile’s mother, Lana, who is shown only briefly at first in the hospital with fur growing around her eyes. Soon, there are other creature sightings in the background and in the forest. This is their new normal. Running parallel to these fantastic beasts are problems of everyday life – of a son challenging his father’s authority, François starting a new job, and Émile struggling to fit into his new school. Then, Émile starts to have problems riding his bike, his mannerisms are changing beyond his control, his back feels different, and soon, fur and claws appear. He is also mutating.
“The Animal Kingdom” moves swiftly between its characters’ everyday problems and the story’s fantastical elements in a magical realist way that quickly captivates its viewer. Cailley, who co-wrote the film with Pauline Munier, uses the creatures as a metaphor for how the world responds to health crises. Because they are not understood and feared, they are locked away from the rest of this society, which recalls how some countries isolated the first wave of HIV/AIDS patients in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. In the movie, characters spoke of other countries adapting to live side-by-side with the humanoid creatures and showed how politicized the issue became among Émile’s classmates and François’ boss, which mirrored the discussion around how other countries handled the recent COVID-19 epidemic and how politicized the discourse around public health and safety became around the issue. That life still continued during these “strange days” of masking, testing, periods of isolation, and family tragedy for some only makes “The Animal Kingdom” all the more relevant.
There’s so much to cope with that Émile nursing a crush on a fellow classmate and sparks forming between François and a disaffected cop named Julia (Adèle Exarchopoulos) only occasionally registers next to the mortification of mutating (another metaphor for coming-of-age) and grieving. It’s difficult to move on from something when you’re still going through it, even if it is in a setting as idyllic as the way Cailley’s brother and cinematographer David Cailley captures the sun-soaked French countryside and untamed forests. As a tired dad just trying to do the best for his son, Duris does an impeccable job carrying his character’s weariness of these events opposite Kircher, who meticulously embodies his character’s adolescent anxiety and animal impulses.
“The Animal Kingdom” is indeed a strange beast. Like “X-Men” minus the superpowers, it’s an analogy about the way people are ostracized for differences beyond their control. It’s a premise that could have suffered with bad CGI effects, but we see just enough of chimeras that blend feathers, scales, and fur onto human skin to understand what’s happening, to empathize with both the person mutating and the fear of the people around them trying desperately to return to normalcy. There is no going back, these “strange days” are the new normal. Dad still argues with his son for feeding chips to their Australian Shepherd while he lights up another cigarette, on and on it goes. The movie is effective in its ability to make us emphasize for the hunted “others” as well as observe how humanity becomes the very thing it fears: monstrous in its attempt to restore law and order. Life is complicated like that, and yet it continues to find a way forward.
Watch The Animal Kingdom on Kanopy here: https://www.kanopy.com/en/kcls/video/15487571
Two for Tuesday
Saturday Matinee: Black Dynamite
By Ben Travers
Source: PopMatters
Satire, when done well, can be a scathing critique on any number of issues. It can be as loose and fun as in Airplane, or as sharp and thought provoking as Dr. Strangelove. At its worst, to put it bluntly, are most of the movies by the Wayans brothers and their inspirations. Scary Movie 2, 3, and 4 are lazy imitations of satire. They dumb it down to the point where its bite is toothless.
As is the case with most humor, though, the line between scathing and toothless is thin and hard to pin down. Based on only a few jokes or scenes, it’s easy to be thrown off the right path and led down one of betrayal. So after viewing the theatrical trailer for Black Dynamite, one may not know what they’re in for over the next 90-minutes. Sure, there are some good lines. When Black Dynamite responds to a query with a stone-faced utterance of “I am smiling,” it will have you doubling over.
Then he kicks a man through a wall and Arsenio Hall shows up. Now what? Well, let me settle things for you. Black Dynamite isn’t exactly a scathing critique or a vital social commentary, but more of an homage to the best of the blaxploitation genre. Director Scott Sanders throws everything one could hope for into the picture and more.
Sanders and co-screenwriters Michael Jai White (who also plays Black Dynamite) and Byron Minns wisely gear their story to augment the frivolous tone. Set (of course) in the ’70s ghetto, our tale follows Black Dynamite as he tracks down his brother’s killer and tries to clean up the streets. Perhaps coincidentally (but probably not), he also keeps running into thugs somehow connected to a malt liquer company. Could it be a front for an illegal drug trade or a shady company with a less than legal agenda? You better believe it. The search for the truth leads Black Dynamite to a tropical locale, a group of Kung-fu masters, and even the White House.
There are more important aspects here than just some silly plot, though. My favorite send-ups of the blaxploitation genre are the multiple technical goofs thrown in throughout the film. During an important speech early in the film, Black Dynamite looks up in annoyance at a boom mic poking him in the head. Instead of stopping the take, he just keeps pushing through his speech. After all, any professional conscience of his film’s budget would do the same.
Later in the film, there are some jump cuts where it’s clear they messed up mid-shoot and had to splice together two similar shots. All of these “miscues” blend seamlessly into the boisterous vibe of the film and greatly enhance even the funniest jokes.
Obviously, all of the goofs are intentional, as are the other not so subtle references to honor the genre. Black Dynamite himself is something of a superhero. His skills are countless and unmatched. He’s always one step ahead of the competition, and he seems to know what people are thinking before they do. Plus, when he kicks a man, it knocks him through a wall! Oh, and a tip for viewers out there: if a man isn’t African American, he’s probably up to no good.
Even the performances are on the ball. Any actor who can stay in character while having his Afro tickled by a boom mic is obviously committed to his part, but Michael Jai White shows he truly understands his role by his performance throughout the film. His strong, confident attitude conveys an invincibility necessary for the lead of any blaxploitation picture. It also fits perfectly with his stoic comedic style. Yes, this should probably be expected considering he had a hand in the screenplay, but that doesn’t mean we should take anything away from his acting feat.
Listening to White discuss the role in the DVD’s commentary track is almost as entertaining as watching him. Though the director has some worthwhile insights as well, White was the true attraction throughout the film.
The rest of the special features are pretty solid, too. Deleted scenes are always an intriguing inclusion, even if it’s fairly obvious why they were cut. There are behind-the-scenes videos of the filmmaker’s trip to comic-con and a making-of featurette that incorporates most of the cast. On other films viewers usually just want to see a lot of the star, but fans of Black Dynamite will certainly value the rest of the cast’s input in the bonus material.
That’s because the supporting cast is an impressive bunch. The aforementioned Arsenio Hall manages to stay within the situation and not blow it up with his occasionally outlandish humor. Tommy Davidson, as Cream Corn, is given most of the screen time and fills it well with his quick quips. Each of the supporting players complements White and the film nicely, though. Even when they’re not given much screen time, they all leave their subtle (or not so subtle) mark on the movie.
The lines provided them certainly help, though. Other than a few extraneous details that bog down a few scenes, the screenwriting team really nailed their goal.
Black Dynamite is an extremely entertaining satire whether you understand the genre’s history or not. The deliberate gaffes allow everyone to immediately engage with the film’s ridiculous nature. It’s not quite a classic, but Black Dynamite carves itself a niche in the genre all its own.
Watch Black Dynamite on tubi here: https://tubitv.com/movies/556703/black-dynamite
Two for Tuesday
Saturday Matinee: Sorry To Bother You
By Brian Tallerico
Source: RogerEbert.com
Boots Riley’s “Sorry to Bother You” is an adrenalin-shot of a comedy and a fearless dissection of identity politics, corporate malevolence, and the American tendency to look the other way when confronted with horror. In this brilliant satire, people gather around their TVs every night to watch a show called “I Got the Sh*t Kicked Out of Me” and embrace a new lifestyle called WorryFree, which is very clearly corporate slavery advertised as something good for you. There is so much to unpack here in a film that recalls Terry Gilliam, Michel Gondry, and Jonathan Swift, but it is basically the story of a man forced to finally see the injustice around him. Riley’s movie is designed to do the same thing to you. Pay attention.
Don’t worry. “Sorry to Bother You” is no message-heavy, standard social commentary flick. It is a hysterical comedy, one of the funniest movies of the year. Just as in the music he created with The Coup, the message never gets in the way of the rhythm. Riley’s film wants, first and foremost, to entertain you, and it almost certainly will do that, especially if you’re willing to go with it on a funky journey, no matter where it takes you.
The great Lakeith Stanfield does his best film work to date as Cassius “Cash” Green, a young man wondering, like so many, what he’s doing in life. Early in the film, we catch him talking with his girlfriend Detroit (Tessa Thompson, who simply makes everything she’s in better) about the common human dilemma when one considers the impact they’re making in the world. So many of us live check to check and struggle to stay alive much less make a difference. Cash wants to do something important. He will.
His life changes when he gets a horrible telemarketing job at a place called RegalView, a company that sells those relatively worthless encyclopedia books that some people have on their shelves but few people ever read. When he’s advised by a colleague (played by Danny Glover) to use his “white voice,” Cash starts to move up the corporate ladder quickly, eventually getting access to the golden elevator taken only by the “power callers.” The men and women who work on the top floor—where only the “white voice” is allowed—don’t sell books. They sell things people really shouldn’t be selling, and Cash is good at that too, drawing the attention of the maniacal Steve Lift (Armie Hammer) and the disgust of Detroit and his fellow co-workers, who have been struggling to unionize for worker’s rights.
There have been stories of men who sold their souls for success since people put pen to paper, but Riley loads his Faustian saga with enough social commentary to fill a dozen comedies. Every scene feels like it works on multiple registers. It’s much harder than it looks to make people laugh and think at the same time, and it’s that ingenious balance that makes Riley’s script for “Sorry to Bother You” so special. It never loses sight of its need to entertain along with the fact that it serves as a wake-up call for viewers to ask more questions about their priorities and those of people in power. It’s also cinematically striking, especially for a debut. From the fantastic costume design to the visual flights of fancy—such as when Cash and Detroit’s garage apartment literally transforms as Cash makes more money and a literal nod to Gondry in a corporate Claymation video—“Sorry to Bother You” has a confident visual language that so much comedy lacks.
Great satires don’t hold back, and Riley turns most of his choices up to 11. For example, he could have had Stanfield mimic a “white voice,” but he dubs Stanfield with another actor. From the beginning, he’s making clear that this is an exaggerated, insane world—a funhouse mirror version of our own that only film could provide. That riskiness leads to a final act of insanity that will lose some people—both times I’ve seen the movie you could sense part of the theater tuning out as the movie takes a turn into sci-fi. For me, I love it when a filmmaker doesn’t pull back from the edge, but goes right over it. So while that part of the film may be weaker than what came before, I still respect the willingness to go there.
You’ll see a lot of movies this summer that feel like the product of focus groups and marketing teams. Every frame and choice in “Sorry to Bother You” feels like the opposite—a pronouncement of a major new talent. I can’t wait to see what he does next.
Watch Sorry To Bother You on Pluto here: https://pluto.tv/us/hub/home?utm_source=google&utm_medium=paidsearch&utm_campaign=12080790684&utm_term=pluto+tv&utm_creative=617765758688&device=c&campaign=Search_Brand_Desktop_E&gad_source=1&gclid=Cj0KCQjw16O_BhDNARIsAC3i2GAIga-xQVO3KmtJs6gYhD6oY6lKyzS5NTNwGocZ_0X20assMp28HhsaAraCEALw_wcB#id=64f8b71cf6f05d0013416c5c&type=movie
Two for Tuesday
Saturday Matinee: Tamala 2010
By Zac Bertschy
Source: Anime News Network
Synopsis: Tamala 2010 Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space follows the hyperactive, non-sequitur adventures of Tamala, a little kitty with a spaceship. On her way to Orion, her ship is diverted to Planet Q, a place where dogs rule. Chased by a degenerate cop while evading society with the help of love interest Michelangelo, Tamala uncovers not only the secrets behind ‘Catty & Company’, the huge megaconglomerate that rules the Feline Galaxy, but also her own identity. That, and a whole lot of really weird stuff happens.
Review: The product of an artist group called Trees of Life (“t.o.L”), Tamala 2010: A Punk Cat in Space is as strange a thing as you’ll ever see. Doubtlessly produced under the influence of past animated ‘head trips’ like The Beatles’ classic film Yellow Submarine, Tamala 2010 is, without a doubt, something that will only appeal to a very specific audience: art students and college kids strung out on illegal substances.
Tamala 2010 follows something of a storyline. Basically, we follow Tamala, a sort of Hello Kitty-alike who swears like a sailor and flies around in her retro spaceship. Engine trouble pops up, and she’s mistakenly rerouted to Planet Q, a place inhabited almost enitely by dogs. There’s a mild terrorism problem; dogs attack cats at random. Meeting up with a cat named Michelangelo, Tamala evades a perverted canine policeman and uncovers a whole load of mysteries and secrets surrounding Catty & Company, the gigantic corporation that controls nearly everything in the Feline Galaxy. That description, of course, makes the film sound fairly straightforward and simple, which is, unfortunately, not the case. The movie goes off on a series of hallucinogenic tangents that have almost nothing to do with the main storyline and will confuse anyone who isn’t paying strict attention. The irony is that the film seems to have been designed to make the viewer tune out, so paying strict attention might be missing the point.
Deciphering Tamala 2010’s message is fairly difficult. A single viewing of the film won’t reveal much of anything, except a warped sort of anti-capitalist message that doesn’t really assert itself due to the totally detached and apathetic main character. Catty & Company winds up being connected to a bizarre religious cult and supposedly has the ability to make and remake the universe in its own image; this all connects to Tamala, who doesn’t seem to really care about anything that’s happening around her. A visit to the t.o.L website reveals that the purpose of Tamala is to create a worldwide merchandising franchise, something that will basically do what Sanrio’s wretched saccharine creations have already done. Great. So what’s the point?
Well, for most people, the point is that this film is something to watch while stoned, created by artists who were also stoned. This conclusion is a little unfair; these days we have a tendency to attribute anything even slightly surreal or abstract to the abuse of narcotics, which undermines the entire concept of creativity. Tamala 2010, while certainly as tangential and nonsensical as your favorite addict’s acid trip stories, seems to be the concentrated effort of a group of artists to create something more than just entertainment. Whether or not they were successful is another matter entirely; if this really was an attempt at sparking a worldwide phenomenon, then why did they produce a cultish, R-rated animated movie with which to promote their concept? Only t.o.L really knows what the purpose of this film was, and we, as viewers, are asked simply to consume and draw our own conclusions.
Artistically, the film is unique. The characters are animated in a sort of Flash-like fashion, with smooth and simple movements. Vehicles and some backdrops are animated in 3-D; the result is a piece of pop art unlike anything else. The film is mostly in black and white, using color very sparingly. It’s hard to tell if the visual style of this film is intended to put across any sort of message; you just never know with films like this one. The soundtrack is a surprisingly pleasant trance mix, perfectly suited for the visuals. As an art piece, Tamala 2010 does not disappoint.
Basically, if you’re a film student, or an art student, you owe it to yourself to see this film at least once. It’s one of those cult events that any serious underground culture junkie will have seen. The artist group that created it seems strangely cultish, and it’s a wonder there isn’t more information out there regarding them and their project. Whatever conclusion you come to, Tamala 2010 is a unique experience, totally different from anything else available on the market today (aside from, you know, Cat Soup and Yellow Submarine).
After the Crash 