Too Many Movies: Opinions We Didn't See Coming

This week, Joe McCulloch watched Raavan, Nina Stone watched Doubt and Precious, and Tucker sat one out with Toy Story 3, Winter Light, and Ballad of a Soldier.

Raavan
Directed by Mani Ratnam, 2010
Joe McCulloch

It’s probably useful to mention that I see all these Hindi-language movies in theaters - one theater in particular, a local megaplex currently devoting one quarter of its total screens to various iterations of Toy Story 3 and Grown Ups. Screen 2 is the Bollywood room, a site of uncertain ritual (will they skip the obligatory intermission or not?) and cloudy prognostication (will any of the trailers actually show up in feature form?). The answers to my parenthetical questions are (usually no, but yes this week) and (if there are big stars than yes, the one with the biggest stars). I knew Raavan would show; hell, they even got a standee display, which dolefully observed Saturday’s Karate Kid tie-in recital by a local kiddie dojo, McGruff the crime dog in attendance. I saw it during the intermission.

So yes, two big reasons this one opened, the sum of them being a genuine Bollywood power couple: Abhishek Bachchan, popular leading man and son of ’70s/’80s movie megastar Amitabh Bachchan (the movie Abhay cited in his magazine profile, Namak Halaal - that was one of his vehicles), and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, a former Miss World who’s done the Oprah and Tyra circuit stateside, along with a few English language movie appearances (The Pink Panther 2, The Last Legion), but mostly concentrates her film work in India. Of course, it’s simplistic to just say “India” - director Ratnam hails from the state of Tamil Nadu, home of its own nearly century-old Tamil-language film industry, in which he and longtime collaborator A.R. Rahman (probably one of the most recognizable composers of film music in the world, and present again here) initially made their names. Indeed, while dubbed variations of popular films naturally do appear, in this particular instance Ratnam elected to film two distinct versions of the same picture, the Hindi Raavan and a Tamil-language variant titled Raavanan, both of them featuring Rai, and pivoting around the hub of Tamil actor ‘Vikram,’ who plays the steely antagonist in the Hindi version and the romantic anti-hero lead in Raavanan, thus replacing Bachchan, who is swapped out entirely for young actor Prithviraj Sukumaran, himself best known in Malayalam-language films centered in the state of Kerala, although he has also recently made a prominent move into Telugu-language film, situated in the state of Andhra Pradesh, perhaps thereby aiding the Tamil version of the film in getting dubbed over for Telugu delectation, though it apparently lacked the star power necessary for English subtitling. Of course, such releases also mean to attract Hindi speakers abroad. These things are complicated.

Unfortunately, the (Hindi-language) film I saw was very simple. It’s a riff on a prominent conceit of the Ramayana, that the semi-immortal ruler Ravana, in retaliation for violence done to his sister, abducted lovely Sita, who was eventually saved by her beloved Rama, and passed through the fire to demonstrate her chastity despite her prolonged capture. This, at least, is the content pertinent to Raavan, which neatly flips the script in a contemporary setting to present the Ravana character (Bachchan here, Vikram in Tamil) as a charismatic local warlord whose sins are only really enumerated by biased parties (and he knows how to dance at a wedding). Rai, the Sita stand-in, is kidnapped from her arch-authoritarian Rama (Vikram in Hindi, Sukumaran in Tamil) after his stepsister is arrested at her wedding, tangential to a brutal raid, and raped by the police. Hence, the presence of a supreme god avatar becomes the callous might of invasive outside governance on a beloved tribal leader, with the gold standard of feminine virtue is coldly manipulated and left unsatisfied.

Heroes are villains and vice-versa; I know the film attempts to impose shades of gray on everything, that’s the preference, but it can’t help but love this too-human Ravana (the original names aren’t used in the movie, I’m just keeping things simple), who is of course half of a megawatt power couple with Sita. For all its dubious subversion -- there’s even a racial element present, as Bachchan makes sneering reference to Rai’s fair skin -- it is a glamorous star vehicle at heart, and fond enough of old-stock show business artifice that even when Rai is covered in grime after marching in captivity, her makeup is never quite out of place. Her faintly irritated performance likewise undercuts the grimy verisimilitude of Ratnam’s visuals, while Bachchan wills himself uneasily over the top, packing his demon lord with tics and twitches and wild, bugging eyes and sweat, sweat, sweat. This works in the odd action scene, dotted with explosions conductive to broad gestures, but seems merely cartoonish in calmer moments, as do the occasional outbursts of CGI for crashing boats or men jumping reeealy high.

At least there’s Vikram, who admittedly has little to do as Bad Rama but sit around smoking or scowling under his virile mustache or shooting at things, but goddamn does he nail the icy, macho presence of an impossibly powerful man with goals in mind and no serious opposition, not really. It’s not exactly a mighty leap to tease out the misogynistic undercurrents in age-old epics, but Vikram’s simple presence ensures a specially sour guarantee of manful heroism-as-obliteration. How he functions as his own tragic counterpart in another language is an interesting prospect, if elusive right now, right here, where monied visibility is the real nectar of immortality.

Toy Story 3
Whoopi Goldberg's best work in years, 2010
Tucker Stone

Kind of breaks my heart to say it, but yeah, Armond White's review does get some key facts wrong, and he gets them so wrong that you can't help but wonder if maybe the crybabies are right, and the dude is seriously just waiting to see what every other movie reviewer says before he sits down to type. All things being equal, that wouldn't be a bad thing, because the growing tendency otherwise intelligent people have towards preaching conformity of opinion (over cultural/commercial products) is getting really fucking gross. Don't get me wrong: it's one thing when it's a tiny subculture of "fans" screaming ABSOLUTE FAIL at one another over the merits of niche products, but when there's thousands of people freaking-the-fuck-out because some goddamned movie has lost its oh-so-precious 100% rating on an aggregate website, it's pretty fucking depressing. Do they get paid for how serious people take Rotten Tomatoes? Are they so unsure of their own taste that every individual who doesn't share it must be sacrificed on the alter? More than that: don't people have enough self-respect that they'd rather not be classed alongside the sort of scumfucks that write homophobic death threats to the guy who (accurately) criticized the silliness of Christian Bale's "Batman voice" in Dark Knight?

[Look, Armond's opinion about Toy Story is pretty confusing and factually disconnected from the actual film, that isn't the point. The point is this: the experience of art, any kind of art, isn't a team sport. And if somebody's enjoyment of something can't begin until after they've lambasted those who disagree with them and their internet friendships, than they're the ones who's doing it wrong. And if people are pulling that shit after watching Toy Story 3, a movie that couldn't have screamed "time to grow up" any louder if it had borrowed AC/DC's Highway To Hell audio set-up, than take that previous wrongness and multiply it a couple thousand times.]

Toy Story 3. It's good! That's what Pixar movies always are, right? I haven't watched all of them, I'm pretty sure this is only the second one I've seen in a theater, but still: The Incredibles, Toy Story 2, Finding Nemo, Up, Wall-E...those are all really solid pieces of entertainment. Some are better than others, but from what I've seen of their animated competition (Ice Age?), they're pretty much the best in this particular field since the triple threat of Little Mermaid/Lion King/Beauty & The Beast. Toy Story 3 doesn't really surprise that much--there's too much Randy Newman (meaning ANY), you get to see one of the top five tangos of all time, those triplet alien creatures steal every scene they're in, Big Baby holy shit Big Baby, but this is all what you're prepared for, it's what you knew was coming even if you didn't realize how fantastic Big Baby was going to be.

Well, you might have expected most of it, but then there's THAT SCENE, you know, the one that even Armond praised, the one that shows up near the end and makes you sit about as far off the fucking edge of your chair as you can before your brain starts freaking out like a fire station gone five alarm because your nervous system just realized that yes, for the first time since--well, maybe ever, if you're me--you are actually sitting on the edge of your seat in a movie theater just like that cliche that movie marketing people use. That's the scene! This movie has one of those scenes, and this is a movie about old toys that can talk in funny celebrity voices!

This isn't one of the cases where a Pixar movie has showed up and kicked the for kids/also for adults animated field around the park, resulting in a bunch of "how do they do it" kind of praise, that would be a bit unfair: these people are pros, the last couple of films had some high level emotional string-pulling, and it's no surprise that they do it again here. What is surprising about that scene--i can't imagine I have to be specific, really--is how they're able to manipulate the audience through the same emotional arc that the characters experience, how it skillfully takes one through the fear right on to the acceptance, how it, for a brief period lasting no longer than five seconds, achieves peace. They look at each other, their eyes passing over us, they take one another's hands, and they accept. It's beautiful stuff. Good fucking movie, man.

Precious
Based on the Novel "Push" by Sapphire, 2009
Nina Stone 

Finally! I’ve been wanting to see this movie. Mostly because I was sure I’d be inspired by the way the teacher loved her students. And I was. That’s the kind of movie that makes you want to be a teacher. Oh, yeah - I already am! So anyhow....

After so much buzz and many an Oscar nomination, I generally knew what this movie was about. But there are two moments I had no idea about that absolutely had me in tears. The first (do I need to say Spoiler Alert? I’m guessing not) was right after Precious finds out she’s HIV positive and the only two words in her journal are “Why me?” She finds out she’s HIV positive right after we find out her Father died of AIDS. Yes - she has two kids and HIV from her father.

Anyhow, back to her “Why me?” in her journal. Her teacher thinks it’s just some run-of-the-mill self pity and wants to have a conversation with Precious - but Precious unleashes all the shit that has happened to her in one gut wrenching monologue. The reality of how messed up this girl’s life was, and the miracle of how she’s getting it together touched me in my core.

And the second piece that was a complete surprise to me was her mother. I knew that Monique had something that was going to go on. Not just because she won best supporting actrees, but because as much was alluded to in the previews. But nothing could have prepared me for this. She finally answers the social worker’s question about when the abuse started in her house. And this story? OMG. She explains that she’d but her baby, Precious, beside her on the bed, would start making love with her husband, and the husband would reach over and start touching the girl. When her mother tried to stop him, he told her to shut up, and explained that he was just showing the baby what love is. And if that’s too much for you, well shit, it goes on. She goes on about how it’s Precious’s fault that her father left, and this is why the mother hates Precious, etc. It is so incredibly tweaked.

Anyhow...although those two parts were pretty dark, I was surprised how the whole movie was not like that. Anytime in the movie that Precious experienced any kind of trauma, she’d disconnect and go into fantasy. Although a disassociated state is not “light” thing, the fantasy that she would go into and the way it was filmed kept the whole film a little more buoyant than it would otherwise have been. I’m glad I watched the film. For all the bleakness, it really is about hope and the power of love.

Doubt 
it's the bad guy from Mission Impossible 3, 2008
Nina Stone

Playwrights know how to write, I tell you. This movie starts with Phillip Seymor Hoffman as a priest, giving a sermon on “doubt;” and ends with Meryl Streep, as the nun that has just ruined Hoffman’s life crying repeating over and over, “I have doubt. I have doubt!” All wrapped up in a pithy, quizzical bow. As I began watching this movie I wasn’t sure the direction it was going to take. Was I about to watch a movie about a priest who molests boys? But that seems so de classe at this point. It’s no longer a shocking issue, but a predictable movie plot. That being the case, and this being a relatively new film I was ready to be shocked by the topic being even more taboo and confrontational. But no. It hinted at the love of man and boy - but it was more about gossip, doubt, truth and fiction, etc. The movie tried to keep the audience in doubt, by the ambiguous comments of the Priest when confronted by Streep’s character. But rather than it being ambiguous and making me feel doubt, it just felt like a portion of bad acting. And PSH is NOT a bad actor - so i feel it was some weird writing. A fine movie, for sure. But if you’re looking for something of a mind-fuck, I’d go see a production of Blue Orange if I were you.

Winter Light
Let The Gimp Keep The Faith, 1962
Tucker Stone

This is one of the three (that I can remember) films that Ingmar Bergman referred to as "his best work" at some point or other in his career, but you can't really fault him too much for that--the guy got interviewed and lauded and pilloried and just all around talked to a whole bunch of times, so it's not that surprising that documentation creates contradiction. Still, Winter Light is an all around "perfect" film, a start to finish chain gang ride through one bleak ass day in a bleak man's life, all lovingly framed in some of the bleakest possible settings and packed to the brim with some good old fashioned bleak ass talking. It's sort of like Booty Call, or After Hours, except it's about coming to terms with one's atheism and self-hatred instead of "getting pussy", which is what those other two movies are about. That's not to say that Winter Light is devoid of sexual possibility--they make it pretty clear that our-man-in-suffering has a slice of pie on tap, he just has to say the word--but it is to say that this isn't the one to whip out when a party comes a-knocking, lessin' you're the type that's setting up an anti-friendship franchise, circa Your House. But if you're in the mood to watch a man obsess over his own lack of faith, see that lack of faith accidently result in absent-minded instigation for rifle-swallowing, and then turn the whole "somebody else has it worse, because somebody else is dead" thing into a statement on one's own personal emotional crisis, then baby, check the oven: your cookies are done.

Ballad of a Soldier
This was made by Commies, don't let the name fool you, 1959
Tucker Stone

Pretty picture, no argument here. You still won't believe one man can stop a tank by shooting it with a gun, even though they show you twice, but if you're playing the Keep My Disbelief On My Shoulder card while watching movies, you've got other problems. (Lack of me as a friend for one, Poindexter!) Still, pretty pictures only go so far, which is part of the reason it always irks this old shoebox every time somebody does a softshoe for old propaganda reels. Ballad may have accidently happened on some of the New Wave aesthetic while lovingly worshipping the Proud Communist Soldier and his Honest and Forthright Doe Eyed Lady in their Glory To The Union chaste love affair (keep your kisses, this is all about some batted eyes), but "accidental" beauty can get really fucking boring when that's the only battery in the vibrator. Extra points for letting us know that Mother Russia (played by an alcoholic farmhand, nice stereotyping) spent the whole picture crying for her dead kid. Points then detracted for never giving one a single piece of evidence for why anyone else would care.

-Joe McCulloch, Tucker & Nina Stone, 2010

Comments

[Kenny Cather]

Tamil Nadu!!!!!! Hell yes!!! Jog, I already liked you, but for recognizing the Tamilians - you have a newfound emotion from me that can only be felt by a reader for a blog person guy.

(I told my wife about your review. She's surprised a white guy not married to a Tamilian person would even care. More proof you're awesome!)

Abhishek Bachchan & Aishwarya Rai are *the* power couple in the world. I keep waiting for them to do a movie with Shahrukh Khan and own every box office record until the end of time.

[moose n squirrel]

I had one complaint with Toy Story 3, and it had to do with the evil pink teddy bear, and it was this: by the end of the movie that bear has reached Iago-esque levels of disproportionate, over-the-top malice. I mean, he starts out as "I'm being an asshole to maintain my corrupt little empire," moves onto "I'm bitter and cruel because of my tragic and traumatic past" and rolls straight on to "I'm Satan's fucking pink teddy bear and I will see you all burn in hell, literally, because I am Satan and I smell like strawberries; Satan." I thought, okay, that's laying it on a bit thick and sudden, Pixar.

[Tucker Stone]

I'd agree with that complaint, its part of the problem with the movie's massive cast, but more acute in his case. It seems pretty clear that the film is supposed to be about the arc of Woody learning to let go, and I think they pulled that story off pretty well. But when you've got that many other characters, and so many of them have to fill specific roles in the Woody story, a lot of them end up behaving in a way that reads as pretty utilitarian. (The bear is the worst offender, but the cymbal monkey and octopus switch gears pretty quickly as well.) Considering how important Buzz was to the plots of the first two movies, it's also kind of surprising to see him firmly in a secondary romance/comic relief position. I'm not sure any of this stuff is fixable though, unless you're going to shoot for some Apocalypse Now Redux length. Maybe if they'd cut down on how often they show Andy's empty bedroom.

[Chris Mautner]

Spot on Tucker. I just got back from taking my kids to TS3, and I agree wholeheartedly, especially about THAT SCENE.

Buzz being turned into a supporting player bugged me more than the villain being all villain-y at the end. It seems off since the two had been treated like equals up till now. Especially since I think a lot of kids tend to gravitate more to Buzz than they do to Woody.

Still, great movie. Lotsa laughs.

[Dan Coyle]

The trouble with some contrarians is they really are bullying assholes about their contrarianism. Which is why so many people get pissed off.

The funny thing is, the contrarians are usually the personalities who bitch about fandom actually demanding that the product, you know, be good. Which leads to the conformity because no one wants to look like a LOSER for not liking it, you know?

[AComment]

I have no interest in Toy Story 3 either way, but I refuse to believe that it's SO GOOD that you'd have to be a deceitful contrarian to find fault with it. Contrarians are assholes, sure, but they're still better people (or at least more interesting) than fanboys. I mean, this isn't the HellsYeahSuperman blog we're posting on.

Precious was very good in many ways, but! After all the horrible shit of her childhkkd, it never felt like Precious' went through any real psychological recovery. Also: the dramatic structure felt wonky at times.

[moose n squirrel]

I guess I'm the evil hipster contrarian here, with my comment about the evil bear? I liked Toy Story 3, as I thought I made clear (maybe I didn't), but I felt the sudden shift in the villainous bear's villainy went from understandable and explained to over-the-top and undermotivated fairly quickly,* in a way that read as somewhat mean-spirited, and drew me out of the film a bit. To contrast: Stinky Pete from Toy Story 2 is also a nasty piece of work, but most everything he does stems from his belief that he's more or less fighting against his own obsolescence, and indeed for his very survival, against a culture in which toys are considered readily disposable (and the events of the third movie could be interpreted as validating his view). Lotso, on the other hand, is given motives (bitterness, the need to maintain control of a private fiefdom) which appear insufficient to really justify the mass-murder he attempts near the film's conclusion.

In retrospect maybe I should've found the shift away from Buzz more jarring than the thing with the bear, I don't know. Maybe I'm just a great big pansy who fell for the redemption-for-the-bad-guy head-fake and wanted it to be real? Whatever, I kind of felt his last act of betrayal was put there to justify a "comeuppance" scene similar to the one the Prospector get in the second movie, but it felt unearned to me. Call me a bullying asshole for that if you'd like, Dan.

*in a moment that comes right before "that scene," as I guess we're trying to avoid spoilers, because it really is a pretty powerful and well-done scene.

[Tucker Stone]

nah Moose, Dan's referring to Armond White.

Acomment: Nobody is saying that you'd have to be an asshole contrarian to find complaint with Toy Story 3 (Chris, moose and I are definitely criticizing it), in fact, that's the point of those first two paragraphs.

[Lugh]

People often misunderstand "criticism" to mean "tear the subject to pieces", or "destroy a sacred cow", and react accordingly. Often, critique is the attempt to make something you like even better.

Modern fanbases need more perspective. I'm a big fan of many things, yet I don't object to people saying negative things about them, and I often have some myself. People expressing themselves doesn't reduce my enjoyment at all, in fact healthy discussion increases my love, and I wish more people would be comfortable with the whole spectrum of opinions.

[AComment]

Mr T-Stone: it seemed that Dan Coyle was saying something along those lines, although he may have been addressing contrarianism in general.

[Dan Coyle]

I was in the first paragraph with White, but in the second paragraph I was trying to get at the flip side of things, where bad material gets a pass because people don't want to look like fanboys or nerds for criticizing it, which does happen.

I'll try to use myself as a test subject: I don't like J.J. Abrams. I've never liked J.J. Abrams. I think he's a master producer, director, and marketer, but as a writer he's emotionally stunted and a plotter only slightly better. Every character's motivation can be boiled down to I'm lonely, I had a bad relationship, or a combo of both. His female characters are especially lame in this regard. Felicity flies all the way to NYC to go to college because she had no friends in high school despite the fact that she looked like Kerri Fucking Russell. and one guy signed her yearbook in a way she thought was hitting on her. Sydney Bristow joins the CIA "because I didn't fit in anywhere" (Jesus Christ, WHAT?) and the entire end point of the series turns out to be her mom's an evil bitch and she should have listened to daddy all along, even though daddy was just as bad. And then there's Kate Austin.

Olivia Dunham is the exception that proves the rule, but like Kate, Sydney, and Felicity, she started off being primarily defined by a relationship with a boy that ended badly.

Lost is the Abrams project I like the most, mainly because his involvement went as far as the first 13 episodes (note how the idiotic "caves guys Vs. beach guys" plot went out the window immediately) and the excrebale "A Tale of Two Cities".

Of course, these days, I consider one of the biggest mistakes in my life was ever watching Lost, but that's my fault.

What's also irritating is that despite the acclaim that's dumped on him, his stories have little point of view, subtext, or ANYTHINg besides the most basic meat and potatoes action scenes and character bits. There's not much there there.

So when I heard he had been given the keys to the Star Trek reboot, while I wasn't surprised- he's bankable- I was tremendously disappointed. Abrams' work shows NOTHING that indicates he would be interested in doing what I want, personally, out of the franchise.

AND THAT'S FINE. BUT.

I have a right to not want that, okay? I have a right to think that an incontinuity reboot (as opposed to starting from scratch) is not only pointless, but is a drag on the plot? I have a right to think that "my dad died, so I'm miserable and lonely" is a pretty weak and unimaginative way of establishing a character, don't I? So I wasn't looking forward to the film.

And I still haven't seen it. Because I know, if I saw it and didn't like it, I'd be judged as just another fanboy, just another loser, just someone who can't get the franchise has to move on. And you don't have to look far to find the people who will judge me for that.

This isn't coming out right, but I'm trying to articulate this feeling I have. And why I'm so angry sometimes at people like- well, like Tucker.

[mateo]

HELLSYEAHSUPERMAN!

(Just in general, I don't know if that is an actual thing or not, but HELLS YEAH anyway).

"Of course, these days, I consider one of the biggest mistakes in my life was ever watching Lost..."

I haven't seen any Lost to speak of, but if I watch it, will the horrible horrible things I have done in my life finally lose their significance?

I was just holding out hope that the machine in Eternal Sunshine would someday actually get invented and I could just send gift certificates to all my ex-girlfriends as x-mas/goodbye presents. No shit, man, there are some wonderful women out there who would be far happier if they could simply forget I ever existed. I of course, would have to bear the baggage gracefully, in order to derail any eternal recurrence-type cute meet 2.0, but that will be far easier if I was the only one to remember why they needed to forget me in the first place.

If an asshole falls in the woods and all that jazz...

/throws Lost to the tip-top of the Netflix queue post-fucking-haste