Sunday, December 31, 2017

2017: A Literary Year in Review

According to my Goodreads account, I read 96 books in 2017. I didn't review them all on this blog as you would mostly get a string of posts about me squealing about divine historical romance novels or classic British murder mysteries. But looking back on 2017, literature served as a continual reminder of the greatness of the human mind and the ability of language to set fire to the imagination. So below, I give you a selection of books that tickled my fancy over the past year (you can also use the "Literature" label on the blog to find posts about all the books I did review). And if you are crafting some New Year's Resolutions, I exhort you to try to read more in 2018. It gave me great pleasure, and I promise, if you find the right book, it will give you great comfort too.

Short Stories: Uncommon Type by Tom Hanks is the actor's first foray into literary fiction. I was charmed and delighted by this book - the stories are all bound together by a common theme of typewriters (Hanks is famously an avid typewriter collector) but they are also bound together by a whimsy and flair for the unusual that is the hallmark of any good short story collection. There is a story about a mindnumbing press junket in Paris, a funny story about a man who bowls a perfect game, a bizarre trip to outer space, and a vast array of weird characters and strange plots that guarantee you'll find at least one story that sticks with you. But if you don't have the patience to try out a new author (or you eschew anything written by a celebrity), might I suggest a collection by George Saunders (if you're looking for something darkly comic with weird futuristic undertones) or any of David Sedaris's books (if you're looking for the hysterical memoirs of a man who has lived a terrifically interesting life)?

Fantasy Fiction: Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials trilogy was one of the highlights of my adolescence (though I needed to re-read in adulthood to comprehend the Biblical allegory that had passed me by as a teenager). Therefore, I was beyond excited to get my hands on a copy of La Belle Sauvage, the first in his new Book of Dust trilogy that is set a few years before the events of His Dark Materials. This tale is wondrous, as richly imagined and intriguing as any of Pullman's previous works, and it was such a joyous pleasure to dive right back into this world that is so familiar to our own and yet so different in the most fundamental ways. We all managed to wait seventeen years to get this book, but now that it's here, I can't imagine having to wait even longer to see how the rest of this trilogy pans out.

Non Fiction: One of the most un-put-downable books I read, that I ended up talking to loads of people about, was Sapiens by Yuval Noah Hariri. If you don't want to take my word for it, this book also comes highly recommended by Barack Obama and Bill Gates, so put that in your pipe and smoke it. In a brief 400-odd pages, you will end up getting an entire history of mankind, from our nomadic hunter-gatherer ancestors, to the potential superhumans we will become in the future. Along the way, this book challenges all of our preconceptions about why we do things the way that we do - why our lives are governed by our alarm clocks, why agriculture destroyed our peace of mind, and whether or not we have much of a future ahead of us or are doomed to extinction. It's alternately a bleak and fascinating read, and if you're questioning your existence during these troubled times, this might be the book for you.

Rollicking Fiction: Sometimes you just want a book stuffed with interesting characters getting up to interesting shenanigans that all come to a satisfying conclusion. Two books involving hilarious family drama that will take you on a ride and deliver you back to earth with a jolt are The Nest by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney and The People We Hate at the Wedding by Grant Ginder. Both are stories about family misunderstandings and miscommunication, and you will experience a love-hate relationship with all of the characters until their authors cleverly suss out what their motivations are. These books will hold you in their thrall and help you forget your own family dramas for a while - doesn't that sound enticing?

Celebrity Memoirs: Gabourey Sidibe's This Is Just My Face: Try Not to Stare is both hilarious and touching, as evidenced by that title. Her personal story is remarkable, and her ascent to fame is astonishing, more so because of the struggles she overcame and the nonchalant manner in which she can talk about them. Early in the year, I also read Anna Kendrick and Lauren Graham's memoirs, which were both perfectly entertaining for anyone who is a fan of their work, but Sidibe's memoir is a worthwhile read for anyone, regardless of whether you have any idea of who she is or not. The story of how the daughter of a subway singer and a Senegalese cabdriver ended up in a movie produced by Oprah? What are you waiting for?!

Books About Books: Finally, one of the last books I read in 2017 was William Deresiewicz's A Jane Austen Education. This book brought it back full circle for me. I didn't love Austen when I first read Pride & Prejudice as a thirteen-year-old, but when I revisited her the year before college, it was a whole other story. I devoured all six of her novels, re-read them numerous times in various Victorian Novel courses, and am always the first to watch any new Austen adaptation that the BBC sees fit to fling my way. A Jane Austen Education is the memoir of a fellow Jane-ite, an English graduate student who initially thought Austen was insipid, only to discover the various lessons contained within her writings that changed his life. Reading this book made me want to re-read all my Austen novels, and honestly, if you've never read any Austen before, I don't think there's a better resolution you could make for 2018 than to pick up a copy of this book, and then a copy of Pride & Prejudice.

Saturday, December 30, 2017

Call Me By Your Name: Love is Love is Love

Call Me By Your Name is a love story, pure and simple. Based on the novel by Andre Aciman, all it does is tell the story of two men in a town somewhere in northern Italy in 1983 who slowly find their way to each other over the course of one of the most spectacular summers ever captured on film. There is no judgement, there is no gay-bashing, there are no heightened stakes and villagers with pitchforks. It is simply a gorgeous tale of uncertainty, passion, and self-discovery.

Timothee Chalamet (an actor who seems destined for multiple Oscar nominations for the rest of his life) plays 17-yr old Elio, the precocious son of an archaeology professor and a sophisticated Italian woman who spend their summers and holidays in their Italian villa. Every summer, his father invites a graduate student to stay with them, and this year, they are joined by Oliver (Armie Hammer), a brash and beautiful blond American, who seems to live his life out loud, in stark contrast to the quiet and introspective Elio. However, before long, an attraction sparks up between the two, and much of the movie consists of a tentative tango between the two men as they try to determine whether they are reading the right signals.

That's the basic plot, but there's so much more to it in terms of nuance and expression. There is very little dialogue in this movie and the romance plays out almost exclusively through tentative looks and touches. Every moment between these two men feels packed with emotion and erotically charged, and when they finally come together, they both express disappointment that they wasted so much time trying to figure out how the other person felt. It's an emotion the audience will feel too, because there is nothing more beautiful than seeing this relationship spark to life on screen.

I watched this movie during a particularly frigid New York winter evening and yet for two hours I felt blissfully warm and content. Cinematographer Sayombhu Mukdeeprom will transport you into Italy for the duration of this film, making you long to swim in the sun-drenched waters of the Mediterranean and drink fresh-squeezed apricot juice all day long. The conversations between Elio and his family members and the servants made me laugh as they reminded me so much of my own chats with family - over the course of a simple conversation, one might meander through three or four different languages. Elio will switch from English to French to Italian from one sentence to the next, and it all lends more authenticity and panache to this idyllic world where people are free to live their lives and experience everything that this gorgeous setting has to offer.

It's hard to say much about this film apart from simply urging people to watch it. It is a mood piece, an atmospheric and masterfully told story that seems to soak into your skin. You don't really watch this movie; you feel it. I felt like I was a part of this world, a fly on the wall as various little family dramas took place, and I could have easily spent more languorous hours with these characters. Sufjan Stevens contributed two original songs to the soundtrack, and while the first one came out of nowhere and was a little jarring to me, by the time "Mystery of Love" started playing, I was wholly invested in this film and haven't been able to stop humming the tune for the past three days.

Towards the end of this movie, the marvelous Michael Stuhlbarg, who plays Elio's father, has a monologue. This would be considered his "Oscars clip" but putting aside such jaded considerations, it is a perfect summation of everything this movie stands for. It is a beautiful rumination on the nature of love and a reminder that life doesn't always have to be a painful and fraught endeavor, but something that can bring you joy and wonder too. The final scenes of the movie are the reason Chalamet will win a million awards, but are also the perfect bittersweet ending to a movie that has held your heart in the palm of its hand for its entire runtime. Call Me By Your Name hurts, but it is a joyful experience too. 

Tuesday, December 26, 2017

The Last Jedi: Star Wars, According to Hume

As I've mentioned previously on this blog, I'm not a Star Wars fan, but I've become one by proxy because I have so many friends who love the movies. Their enthusiasm was infectious and got me excited in the past two years for The Force Awakens and Rogue One. I wasn't in the country when The Last Jedi premiered, so they all saw the movie without me and raved about how good it was (all except for my curmudgeonly colleague Phil, who seemed to think it was abysmal). Well Phil, I'm shocked to say that I halfheartedly agree with you. Will wonders never cease.

One of the thrills of watching The Force Awakens was hearing the iconic theme song and seeing that opening crawl on the big screen for the first time. That thrill has not subsided, and I was in the tank for this movie when it began. The epic action sequence was an excellent way to kick off, brimming with stellar dogfights and human-droid repartee between Poe Dameron and BB-8. Unfortunately, after that battle, things took a bit of a turn. And perhaps here is where it might have helped to see this movie with my friends instead of by myself at an ungodly hour of the morning.

There's nothing I can really point to as being wrong with this movie. It is perfectly exciting and answers a lot of questions raised in the first (well I guess I should say seventh) installment of the franchise. There is a great deal of character development, and strides to include more women and diverse actors in this universe so that white men don't get all the screen time. But boy, it starts to drag on a bit. From other people's reviews of this movie, I gather that they love the nuance and complexity it brings to the classic fight between the Dark and the Light. But is that what I really watch a Star Wars movie for? Sadly, nope. I'm just a fickle fan who's in it for some lightsaber action.

Look, I get it. This franchise wants to be taken seriously, and writer-director Rian Johnson has done mighty fine work in the past, and continues to do so from a technical standpoint in this movie. The new creatures were fun, the new planets were interesting (I particularly loved the final battle sequence, where the red salt was the most in-your-face-but-PG13 representation of the bloodiness of warfare), and all of the storylines collided in a satisfactory way after everyone spent ages doing their own thing in various locales. But that satisfying conclusion and forceful beginning bracketed a sluggish middle that proved to be far too philosophical for me to handle.

If you're a die-hard Star Wars fan, you will probably love The Last Jedi. If you're not, you might still find much to love from a film-making perspective. Ultimately, I was ambivalent. It had some comedic flashes, action galore, and many badass women, but overall, now that the Force is awake, I find myself uninterested in moral discussions about its use. Unless it involves some lightsabers.

Monday, December 25, 2017

While You Were Sleeping: The Best Christmas Movie

Recently, someone asked me if I could recommend one movie over all others, what would it be? After stalling and declaring this to be an impossible question, I finally confessed that I would always pick While You Were Sleeping. When pressed to answer why I love this movie so much, I found I had so many reasons that really, it was a travesty I hadn't officially declared my love on the blog. So today, on Christmas Day 2017, I give you my reasons for why While You Were Sleeping is the Best Christmas Movie ever.

1. Sandra Bullock. In 1995, Bullock was at the height of her stardom (well, I say height; she has peaked and never come down since, as far as I'm concerned). As Lucy Eleanor Moderatz, she is the most relatable and adorable woman portrayed on screen. Lucy works for the Chicago Transit Authority, and at the beginning of the film, your heart bleeds for her when she is forced to take the Christmas Day shift as she is the only employee who has no family. When she crushes on a commuter that she sees every day but has never spoken to, you completely understand that kind of silly, unrequited love. And when she saves said commuter after he is pushed onto the train tracks and then accidentally gets mistaken for his fiancee by his entire family, you are 100% down for this lady to bag her prince and get whatever she wants from this world.

2. The script. As detailed above, the premise of this movie is fairly absurd and depends on a lot of hilarious misunderstandings that could only happen in the confines of a romantic comedy. But writers Daniel G. Sullivan and Fredric Lebow have written a script that makes you completely suspend your disbelief and fall for this story hook, line, and sinker. I don't care that so much of the film depends on Lucy getting overheard talking to herself some times but then completely ignored other times. All I care about is the whip-smart banter, never-ending complications, physical comedy, and sizzling romance when she meets her "fiance's" brother, Jack.

3. Bill Pullman. Oh, Bill Pullman. In 1995, he was a charming, crinkly-eyed, blond god. What with his work in this movie and Casper in the same year, he easily won my eight-year-old heart (yes, I have loved this movie since I watched it on a plane when I was eight; I told you, my love runs DEEP). There is something about his quiet, growly demeanor throughout this entire movie that will set any woman's heart on fire. And other parts. Anyhoo, that's enough about Bill Pullman, moving on...

4. The rest of the cast. Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman are great and all (as is Peter Gallagher when he eventually wakes up from his coma), but this is really a movie about the gigantic, warm, and wonderful Callaghan clan. As an only child growing up in Bahrain, this large, boisterous, insane family was what I imagined every kid in America grew up with, and I loved them like they were my own. They have ridiculous conversations at dinner time, barge into everyone's business, keep forcing Lucy into awkward situations, but ultimately they are brimming over with so much love and genuine good-naturedness that you can see why Lucy wants to pretend she's a part of this family forever. Peter's godfather Saul (Jack Warden) was my first exposure to a Jewish person, and he taught me some Yiddish words that made no sense to me at the time, but definitely make sense now. And tearing myself away from the Callaghans, there's Joe Fusco, Jr. The irritating Italian son of Lucy's landlord, who is forever pestering her and being rebuffed. Even he gets a redemptive story arc that lets you see he has a good heart, even if he is a total clown. In While You Were Sleeping, there are no villains. Apart from Ashley Bartlett Bacon of course. 

5. The setting. It's Christmas. There are lights, twinkly trees, and bonhomie. There's snow. More importantly, there's ice outside Lucy's apartment, which leads to the single most charming and chemistry-laden scene in a romantic comedy. No human being can watch that scene without falling a little bit in love. Go on. Watch it. I dare you.

I have watched While You Were Sleeping so many times I have lost count. It is always on at Christmas time and if I come across it on TV, I will watch, whether it's just beginning or about to end. Every time I watch it, there's a new joke that makes me laugh, or an old one I had forgotten but can now appreciate again. There's another gesture or look that makes me sigh a happy sigh. There's a new Callaghan family member who becomes my favorite. This is the movie that makes me want to honeymoon in Florence and adopt a white Persian cat named Fluffy. I think it informed a large part of my fashion sense because Lucy always looks slightly disheveled and wears deliciously comfy, baggy sweaters, and now I can't imagine ever wearing a sweater that I can't hide my hands in.

Depending on my personal circumstances, watching this movie always takes on a whole new meaning. When I moved to New York and watched this movie for the umpteenth time, it felt like I was watching with fresh new eyes because I was an American now (also I finally understood the Yiddish). In medical school, I had a classmate whose name was actually Joe Fusco, and my opinion of him was forever tarnished. And when I was on the plane back from Singapore a few weeks ago, and saw that While You Were Sleeping was randomly one of the limited movie options on my Japanese airline, I pressed Play immediately. Because it was clearly meant to be.

Sunday, December 24, 2017

The Disaster Artist: Birth of a Cult Classic

When I exited the theater after watching The Disaster Artist, I felt slightly hysterical. I couldn't stop smiling and kept erupting into giggles when I remembered random scenes from the movie. So yeah, I highly recommend watching this film. End of review.

Well fine, you probably want more information. Directed by James Franco, based on the book of the same name by Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell, this movie is about the making of The Room, a movie that came out in 2003 and is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made. When it came out, it folded in two weeks (it only lasted in the theaters for two weeks because Tommy Wiseau, the mysterious writer-director-producer-actor of the movie, paid for it to remain in theaters so it would be eligible for Oscar consideration) and made all of $1,800 despite an alleged $6 million budget. In The Disaster Artist, James Franco plays Tommy Wiseau, and what follows is a loving story of how the most bonkers film in the world got made.

Let me be clear - this is not a cruel movie. It fully recognizes what an absurd movie The Room is, and what a weird person Tommy Wiseau is, but it is crafted with such love and clear devotion to the source material that you will only feel the greatest sympathy for Tommy and the rest of the motley crew who put this insane production together. While none of them know what they're doing, they're doing it with such passion and gusto that you can't help but be swept along for the ride. James Franco's portrayal of Wiseau is pitch perfect - he has the deranged accent and speech pattern down, and I don't know what kind of wonders the makeup department did to his face or if the wig somehow pulls his face back, but he doesn't even really look like himself (apart from the occasional smile; there's no mistaking that Franco smile). He even manages to have one eye that is halfway closed, making the resemblance to Wiseau rather uncanny. 

The rest of the cast are equally perfect. Ari Graynor is wonderful as Julie/Lisa, who endures severe mortification during the infamous sex scenes, Dave Franco bumbles his way through the entire film as the blithely naive but up-for-anything Greg/Mark, and my personal favorite might be Josh Hutcherson as Philip/Denny, who echoes all of our thoughts when he asks Tommy exactly how old Denny is supposed to be (you will not get a satisfactory answer). In addition, Seth Rogen is hilarious as the hapless script supervisor, faced with the most inane script Hollywood has ever produced, while Jaclyn Weaver is charming as the elderly Carolyn/Claudette, who shows up to work every day because she is a truly dedicated actor, even if she can't get Tommy to explain anything about her character.

The scene featuring the film premiere, when the actors finally get to see what they worked on and are horrified by this bizarre movie (Ari Graynor whimpering, "is it still going on?!" echoes the sentiments of anyone who has watched The Room) is the natural highlight of the film. When the audience laughs and Tommy realizes that he has become a laughing stock yet again, there is an exceedingly sweet and supportive moment between him and Greg that turns the tide. That's the emotional beat that puts you wholly in Wiseau's corner and makes you glad that he eventually embraced the cult status that this movie went on to achieve. And right before the end credits, we see shot-for-shot remakes of some of The Room's classic scenes, which makes this whole journey exceedingly worthwhile.

A lot of people have said you don't have to watch The Room to appreciate The Disaster Artist. But I would say it would help you to truly understand the confusion the cast and crew must have felt throughout the filming of this nonsensical movie (thanks to my friend Katie who insisted I watch The Room first!). Perhaps the greatest achievement of The Disaster Artist is that it made me genuinely fond of The Room and understand why it has become such a cult favorite. I am now sorely tempted to attend a midnight screening and yell, "You're tearing me apart, Lisa!" along with a chorus of fellow moviegoers, who will never stop adoring this brilliantly awful movie. Also, if you're reading this, and your name is Mark? Oh, hi Mark!

Friday, December 22, 2017

In-Flight Entertainment: Rapid Reviews for the Holidays

There were a lot of movies I didn't get to watch in theaters this year, but I recently spent 40 hours on planes to and from Singapore, which allowed for a lot of in-flight movie watching. Below are some quick-fire reviews of the films I saw, all of which are worth a viewing depending on your mood during the holiday season.

Logan Lucky: From director Steven Soderbergh, this is an excellent heist movie a la Ocean's Eleven, except set in the South, with a bunch of people trying to rob the Charlotte Motor Speedway during one of the busiest days of the year. It's exceedingly clever, one of those films you'll probably end up watching a few times in order to understand all of the different nuances of the plan and how they coalesce to help our "heroes" steal piles of money. It also plays with stereotypes - you might start the movie thinking that these unlucky hillbillies don't stand a chance, but by the time you get to the end, you'll no longer have any doubts that they've planned this heist perfectly. Boasting an all-star cast of Channing Tatum, Adam Driver, Riley Keough, and Daniel Craig (gleefully leaning into his Southern accent like there's no tomorrow), and including cameos from uber-famous actors that feel like a lot got left on the cutting room floor, this is a funny and engaging movie that will keep you guessing till the end.

Home Again: Few things in life are as guaranteed to provide cozy comfort as a Nancy Meyers film. Well now, her daughter, Hallie Meyers-Shyer, has taken over the family business, writing and directing this glorious movie about a forty-year-old divorcee with two young daughters, who unexpectedly finds herself sharing her house with three aspiring male filmmakers in their twenties. Starring the always stunning Reese Witherspoon, this movie delighted me for many reasons. First, it lets its uptight protagonist let her hair down and have some fun. Then, after the sexy times are over, it focuses on actual friendships, and how these three men start to bond with her and her children and create an odd but charming family unit. And finally, it ends on a marvelously ambiguous note that lets the woman be in charge of her own destiny. Unlike most traditional romantic comedies, you won't get a neat and tidy resolution here, but you will walk away feeling very warm and happy inside.

A Ghost Story: This is certainly the weirdest of the movies I watched, and I can't quite say I liked it. But if you're the kind of person who enjoys surreal indie fare, this is the film for you. This is the movie starring Casey Affleck under a bedsheet, once he dies and becomes a ghost. Yes, you read that right. He dies within the first fifteen minutes, and the rest of the movie consists of him wandering around in a bedsheet. His spirit is unable to let go of the things he left behind on Earth and as you watch the world change around him, going back and forth in time, it's an odd meditation on love and loss. And the meaning of life? Maybe? It's not everyone's cup of tea, but the one thing I will say is that the costume designer of that bedsheet deserves an award. The sad black eyes seemed to speak volumes, and I've never felt quite so moved by such a weird character before.

Girls Trip: Hey girl heeeeey! This movie was definitely the raucous highlight of 2017. Four college friends (Regina Hall, Queen Latifah, Jada Pinkett Smith, and Tiffany Haddish) reunite after a long time apart in New Orleans for the Essence Festival. Chaos ensues, naturally, involving a great deal of booze, naturally, but also due to a lot of drama of both the romantic relationship and friendship variety. This is your classic buddy comedy except it features four incredible black actresses at the top of their game - none more so than Tiffany Haddish, who steals every single scene she's in, a la Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids. This Haddish performance is a complete assault on the senses from the first frame to the last and she is the reason this movie was the only comedy to gross over $100 million this year. While the film ultimately deals in a lot of cliches and wraps things up a bit too neatly, the journey is well worth it. These women share a genuine chemistry and bond of friendship that shines through the screen and makes this a trip you won't want to miss.

Rules Don't Apply: This movie was meant to be an Oscar contender last year but fizzled at the box office and quietly disappeared by December. However, as someone who is a sucker for old Hollywood stories, I found it rather endearing. Starring Lily Collins as a young naive starlet and Alden Ehrenreich as her driver who ends up falling for her, it's a film that has wild tonal shifts but begins and ends with a lot of promise. Warren Beatty stars as Howard Hughes, who becomes the fly in the ointment of the budding romance, and at times the movie isn't quite sure if it's trying to be a biopic, a romcom, or a drama. But the story is compelling, the actors are all charming, and the eventual conclusion is surprising, bittersweet, and satisfying. It's not a perfect movie, and if you're looking for a more fun glimpse of old Hollywood, you're better off watching the Coen Brothers' Hail, Caesar! But if you don't mind a little schmaltz with your Hollywood history, this movie might suit you just fine.

Monday, December 18, 2017

The Crown: Heavy is the Head

My favorite episode from the first season of The Crown was "Scientia Potentia Est" (and not just because that's Latin for "Knowledge is Power"). In this episode, the young Queen Elizabeth hires a private tutor to give her a proper education. She was raised solely to be a good wife, mother, and princess, but never to be a Queen who ruled most of the world's population. As a result, while she has a thorough knowledge of how to breed horses, she has a distinctly muddled understanding of art, literature, or world politics. Filled with self-doubt, she asks her tutor to give her an education that will let her talk intelligently with men like Winston Churchill without being outmaneuvered or out-debated. And yet, ultimately, it is her rigorous grasp of the British Constitution (the one subject drilled into her as a child) and her rank and bearing that help her to give Churchill the dressing down he deserves and assert her authority.

While the first season of The Crown felt like a marvelously lush history lesson, the second season manages to blend both history and psychology in fascinating ways. Building on "Scientia Potentia Est," the recurring theme of this season is Elizabeth's impostor syndrome and her hatred of the spotlight. Her family is no support, with a philandering husband, a wild sister, a clueless mother, and a fawning bunch of old-fashioned courtiers who continue to advise her as though the world hasn't changed since Queen Victoria's reign. In the brilliant Episode 5, "Marionettes," she comes under fire by peer-turned-journalist, Lord Altrincham, who points out just how out of touch the monarchy has become with the British public and suggests ways in which they must improve (suggestions that you may recognize as still being in place today).

As the season builds to its climax, we see a world-weary Elizabeth steadily grow a backbone and learn how to use her position to her advantage. In Episode 8, "Dear Mrs. Kennedy," Claire Foy turns in a particularly masterful performance as Elizabeth feels washed out and irrelevant when pitted against the glamorous American First Lady. Though the two women bond, there is an interesting dynamic at play, one which will be familiar to anyone who understands the complicated ways in which women help and hurt each other. Ultimately, they play their political games the way they know best, and they do forge a special bond that only women in positions of unimaginable power can share. But it is always a struggle, and as Elizabeth says, "that's the thing about unhappiness. All it takes is for something worse to come along to make you realize it was happiness all along." By the end of the season, it remains patently clear that here is a woman who will never truly embrace the role of being the Queen.

This season also gives us deep-dives into the psyches of other members of the Royal Family. Episode 9, "Paterfamilias," is an absolutely grueling exploration of Prince Philip's childhood and his subsequent treatment of his son, Prince Charles. It's a quintessential illustration of how the sins of the father are visited upon the son, and while it will make you empathize with Philip (mostly because Matt Smith is impossible to hate) and understand a bit more as to why he is such an irritating and odious figure throughout this series, you'll still take Charles's side and never quite be able to forgive his father. But the true star this year is Princess Margaret, played by Vanessa Kirby, who deserves Best Supporting Actress statuettes left and right. After her doomed romance in Season 1, she finds love in Tony Armstrong-Jones (played by the delicious Matthew Goode). The scenes leading up to Tony's proposal in Episode 7, "Matrimonium," are set to a devastatingly romantic Max Richter recomposition of Vivaldi's "Spring" that made my heart soar. And yet, these two people enter into this marriage for such twisted reasons that tragedy is inevitable.

The Crown is a breathtaking show with outstanding actors, impeccable production values, crisp scripts, and an ability to make history come alive in a personal and relatable way that feels fresh even after the events being discussed are decades past. There is a whole tirade by Prince Philip about how he underwent intense scrutiny when he wanted to marry Elizabeth despite the fact that his father was a King, while now Princess Margaret is freely allowed to marry a common photographer with a social-climbing mother. That scene feels particularly apposite given that Philip's grandson, Henry, is currently engaged to a biracial, divorced, American actress, who will probably do more for the Royal Family than any insipid duchess of "good breeding." So watch The Crown. Like all great history lessons, it teaches us how we went wrong in the past, so we can learn for the future. 

Monday, December 4, 2017

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri: Um, Yeah

Listen, I love Martin McDonagh. The Irish playwright and filmmaker is responsible for In Bruges, one of the best black comedies ever, and he also wrote the marvelous Cripple of Inishmaan, which I was fortunate enough to see on Broadway three years ago. So when I heard that he had a new movie starring Frances McDormand that was Fargo-esque except even darker, I was 100% on board. However, as much as I have revelled in McDonagh's ability to create really dark comedy, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is officially too dark for me.

Frances McDormand plays Mildred Hayes, a grieving mother who is furious that the local police have done nothing to find the man who raped and killed her daughter seven months ago. When she sees three empty billboards along a lonely stretch of road, she decides to rent them and plaster them with a message accusing the Sheriff of inaction in her daughter's case. Naturally this causes a ruckus in town, with the police officers enraged and townspeople taking sides on whether to support Mildred or the well-meaning Sheriff Willoughby (Woody Harrelson). Complicating matters are the actions of Officer Jason Dixon (Sam Rockwell) a man with serious anger and racism issues.

Based on that description, you must be wondering how on earth this even gets categorized as a comedy. And that really is owing to McDonagh's brilliance with dialog. There are moments throughout this movie where you will burst out laughing at the blistering language (like when Mildred sets down a priest) or a twisted action that is so weird and out of left field that you simply have to laugh. There's absolutely nothing predictable about this movie. From start to finish, you will have no idea what to expect next, and by the time you get to the end, you will leave the theater in a bit of a daze.

The trouble with this film, as opposed to McDonagh's previous work, is that he is poking at some very sore subjects here. A teenage girl has been raped and burned alive. Racism, domestic abuse, and police brutality have been hot button issues for years now, and the film's treatment of them seems gravely misjudged. No amount of filthy banter and camaraderie is going to make me feel OK about how certain white characters get a redemption arc and others are just stereotypical hicks. The film is violent, graphic, and jarring, and while every single performance is incredible, I'm surprised so many critics love it without reservation. Yes, these are talented actors, working off a surprising and novel script, but oh man. This is a problematic movie.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is up for a lot of awards and people seem to be in two camps about it. I really wanted to love it, but I shall be putting it aside as one of McDonagh's lesser works. Call me a snowflake if you will, but I cannot in good conscience recommend something that lets white people get away with so much in the name of "black comedy."

Saturday, December 2, 2017

American Vandal: Profound Satire

Who knew that an eight-part true crime mockumentary investigating who was responsible for spray-painting 27 penises onto cars in a high school faculty parking lot could be so profoundly delightful? Certainly not me. And yet, I defy anyone to watch Netflix's American Vandal and not walk away with a sense of giddy glee.

The show purports to be shot by two high school boys, Peter and Sam, from the Hanover High School's AV club. They are investigating the aforementioned act of vandalism, and whether the accused, and subsequently expelled student, Dylan Maxwell, really did it. Following the footsteps of recent true crime fare that captured the public's imagination, like The Jinx or Making a Murderer, American Vandal is an intricate and precise satire that manages to both mock the format and glorify it at the same time. The genius of this show lies not just in the fact that it will make you laugh: it's true accomplishment is that it will genuinely make you care and eagerly binge eight episodes to discover if Dylan Maxwell really was guilty. It's genius television.

I don't want to go into further details because it's honestly a wonderful mystery that is plotted to perfection. You have all your standard high school cliques - the deadbeats, the hyper-accomplished, the nerds, the jocks. You have messy relationships that give people alibis and motives, student-teacher conflict that leads to much speculation and a breakthrough involving "splatter," and the gradual over-involvement of the documentarians with their subject as they become increasingly convinced that Dylan is innocent and must now find the true culprit.

The opening titles instantly indicate how well American Vandal understands the shows it's satirizing. From the mournful music to the perfect overlay of pictures of the crime, the potential perpetrator, and inexplicably, the ocean, it immediately sets the scene. And the actors know exactly how to portray people who know they are on camera, but are also regular people who don't actually know how to behave on camera. It's always a tricky feat to pull off (think of Jim's asides to the cameras on The Office) and these actors do an admirable job of appearing self-conscious but also excited to be interviewed about this ridiculous crime.

American Vandal gets all the details right. The characters and the way they lean into stereotypes and biases only to have their preconceived notions thrown back in their faces is spot on. The ramifications of being accused and how that affects your status in the wider community is captured beautifully. The animations to determine vantage points and the painstaking piecing together of Instagram and Snapchat footage to construct detailed timelines is riotously funny in its precision and ultimate silliness. And the emotional toll that this project takes on the filmmakers and the notoriety they gain throughout Hanover High encapsulates everything that happens when documentarians gets too close to their subject and must struggle to regain their objectivity.

I know the premise seems beyond insane and you cannot fathom why this show is becoming one of those word-of-mouth sensations that Netflix is so adept at creating. But believe me. Once you start watching American Vandal, you will buy in to the hype. This is by far one of the funniest things created in 2017, and I think we can all agree, we've never needed a laugh more.