Collateral: A Complicated Crime

Not a day goes by when someone tells me about a new Netflix original that I must watch. Netflix is churning these things out like there's no tomorrow, and one has to be extremely choosy about the next binge watch because there are only so many hours in the day. However, thanks to my colleague Ron's recommendation, I offer up for your perusal, Collateral, a BBC Two series that is available to us Americans on Netflix. Consisting of a tight four episodes, it is a limited time commitment for maximum entertainment. It's what we crave.

This show must be a conservative Englishman's nightmare because it very much feels like a response to Brexit and the increasingly racist far-right rhetoric sweeping Europe these days. While it starts off as a seemingly simple murder mystery, things quickly escalate to reveal that there is absolutely nothing simple about the murder of a pizza delivery man who turned out be a Syrian refugee illegally living in the United Kingdom. Starring Carey Mulligan as Kip Glaspie, the lead detective in charge of the case, there are a host of characters that get pulled into the unfolding drama, including a vicar, a liberal MP, an MI-5 agent, a single mother with something to hide, and a soldier. Every scene of this show offers up a new twist and a slew of red herrings, and watching Kip make sense of this tangled web is an unceasing pleasure for the 4-hour runtime.

The politics at play are endlessly fascinating as you watch exceedingly conservative characters who think all immigrants are dangerous butt heads with the bleeding heart liberals who want to find a home for every refugee. Written by noted playwright and Oscar-nominated screenwriter David Hare, and directed by S. J. Clarkson, this show is decidedly on the side of the liberals, but it makes its case strongly, highlighting the current plight of British immigrants and those who have fallen through the cracks in an increasingly fractured and privatized system. This is a show that exposes how immigration policy affects everyone from the higher echelons of government to the lowest rungs of society, and makes a plea for all of us to be more empathetic and understanding before we simply dismiss an entire population of people in need.

I can't go into more detail as Collateral is one of those sumptous shows that surprises you with every turn and is so intricately plotted that even giving away one thread would lead to diminished enjoyment of the whole. So settle down on the couch, pull up your Netflix queue, and settle in for four hours of quality British drama with an incredible cast, taut storyline, and magnificent production values. You won't be able to stop. 

Annihilation: Women Can Be Scientists Too!

As you can gather from the title of this post, while there may be a lot of things to like about Annihilation, my main takeaway is Yay, an all-female cast! Starring Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson, and Tuva Novotny as a band of female scientists who have to investigate an extraterrestrial phenomenon, this movie is an excellent example of how any genre of film can benefit from having more women. We are still so attuned to having men swanning around in all the lead and supporting roles, that it still feels novel in this day and age to see a cast of diverse women doing their own thing.

Written and directed by Alex Garland (based on the novel by Jeff VanderMeer), this movie is a twisty sci-fi action thriller that is extremely weird but also extremely gorgeous. The story involves an expedition into the "Shimmer," a strange phenomenon that has enveloped a large swathe of a US national park and is continually expanding. No one returns when they enter the Shimmer, except for one man (played by Oscar Isaac; naturally even extraterrestrial phenomena are loath to kill that handsome man), but he is seriously ill when he returns, and his wife, Lena (Natalie Portman), decides she has to enter the Shimmer so that she can save her husband.

The women who enter the Shimmer are all harboring their own personal secrets and demons. This is essentially a suicide mission, but it takes a while for the audience to suss out the backstory of each character and understand her motivations. Like Garland's prior film, Ex Machina, this is not a simple sci-fi thriller. It's also deeply psychological, and part of the terrifying horror element of this movie comes from the fact that the Shimmer seeps into the psyche of each woman and causes a unique brand of paranoia. The tone of this movie never ceases to be eerie and creepy, and you start questioning how exactly you would go crazy if you ever entered the Shimmer yourself.

Putting aside the characters and deeper psychological ramifications of the plot, however, let's discuss how this film is a visionary masterpiece. Part of the effect of the Shimmer is wreaking genetic havoc in nature, and initially, this manifests itself as stunning plant life that looks like a Jackson Pollock dreamscape. I'll be honest, I took great pleasure in the first half of this film because there was so much science talk about genetics and cross-species hybridization that my inner biochemist nerded out spectacularly. My inner cinephile separately nerded out about the amazing production design and cinematography that lent a dream-like, truly "shimmery" quality to this movie. The soundtrack was also slightly odd but fitting, mostly consisting of simple guitar interludes that perfectly suited the beautiful but haunting quality of the first half.

I appreciated Annihilation for its artistry, ambition, and insanely talented cast. One of the wonderful things about casting a bunch of women is that they all have the space to be their own kind of woman, rather than being the token female in the movie who has to represent all of womankind for the audience. However, I can't deny that this film is rather trippy and ends on a fairly ambiguous note that will leave you with more questions than answers. Part of that might be to leave the door open for some sequels (which I wouldn't object to at all), but part of that is Alex Garland's style. This is a man who makes glorious films that are also cerebral and require a bit of thought on your part. So indulge in the Shimmer, and let me know what you make of it all. 

The Death of Stalin: Coup Comedy

If there's one thing the British know to do, it's political satire. And with writer-director Armando Iannucci at the helm, it's no surprise that The Death of Stalin is an absurd, laugh-out-loud film that also gives you much to ponder about the politics of staging a bloody coup.

Iannucci is the genius behind the TV comedies The Thick of It and Veep but here he gives us a film adaptation of a French graphic novel of the same name. Set in 1953 when Stalin (Adrian McLoughlin) keeled over from a stroke, we follow the men of the Central Committee as they jockey for position to see who will take over as the General Secretary of the Communist Party. The main contenders are the Moscow Party Head, Nikita Kruschev (Steve Buscemi), and NKVD Head, Lavrentiy Beria (Simon Russell Beale), with Georgy Malenkov (Jeffrey Tambor) serving as the clueless stooge who thinks he's really in charge of things as Stalin's Deputy.

It's a lot of Russian names, which makes following the dialogue a bit of a challenge at times, but there's nothing challenging about following the actions of these brilliant actors as they deliver inane dialogue with Shakespearean earnestness. Everyone retains their original accent, so you've got a suite of Russian leaders all speaking with a variety of English and American accents, but once you get used to that anachronistic detail, you're sold. After all, everything else is so absurd anyway. The timing of this film also couldn't be better, given that US politics is currently rife with toadies currying favor and secretly pitting people against each other to wrest control from clueless party members. In fact, while you may laugh a great deal while watching this film, later when you think about it, you might feel a little heartsick at how close it hits to home.

At the beginning of the film, there is a brilliant set piece involving a Radio Moscow broadcast, and the actual death of Stalin involves a tremendous amount of outright physical comedy that I found more hilarious than anything else in the film. I'm not that sophisticated in my comedy tastes, and it turns out that as witty and wonderful as these actors might be when delivering barbed political satire, I am far more amused when they are carrying around a body and tripping over themselves in confusion. As the movie progressed, I found it a bit difficult to keep track of all of the different plots and machinations, but as long as there was impeccable line delivery and a great deal of bombast, I didn't mind.

Lest we forget, this is a seriously dark comedy, with people getting shot every minute or so for being a political enemy (as the political situation is in flux every second, that involves a lot of political enemies). Stalin was a ruthless dictator and his policies incited fear and violence at very turn. This movie finds the absurdity in it all, but one does need to spare a thought for the folk outside the Central Committee, who lived in abject fear during this time. Like most great political satire, The Death of Stalin makes light of an impossible situation, and while you will legitimately burst out laughing in the theater, you'll feel a twinge of guilt about it when you leave. 

Game Night: A Shot of Ridiculousness

Do you need a movie to decompress from the Oscars? Something that will make you burst out laughing with sheer audacious silliness? Then Game Night is the movie for you. Word of warning: don't bother watching the trailer for this film as it gives away scenes from the beginning to the end. Just go into it unspoiled and savor the madness.

Rachel McAdams and Jason Bateman star as Annie and Max, a happily married couple that absolutely love game nights. They are uber-competitive but fun people, so their friends show up every week at their home to get slaughtered at charades, Pictionary, and whatever game takes their fancy. However, when Max's "cool" brother, Brooks (Kyle Chandler), arrives in town for a business trip, he invites Max and his friends over to his place for a much more high-scale game night experience. He has hired a company to treat them all to a murder mystery night and in the midst of setting up the scene for his guests, two men burst into the house and attack him. He runs around the house, throwing things at them, trying to shoot them before he loses his gun, and ultimately is bound and gagged and dragged out of the house. All while his guests watch, astounded at how realistic the whole performance is and ready to get started on this murder mystery party. But of course, all of that was real, and Brooks really has been kidnapped by some unsavory characters.

The rest of the movie proceeds as inanely as you would expect. The three couples split up, each determined to win, as the prize is Brooks' vintage sports car. Through different routes, they all finally arrive at the conclusion that this has all been a horrible misunderstanding and they end up having to join forces in earnest to save Brooks' life. This involves tussles with mobsters, a botched heist, dealing with Annie and Max's creepy cop neighbor (played with kooky joy by Jesse Plemons) and endless opportunities for physical comedy and hapless ineptitude. There are multiple fake outs, convoluted storylines, and outrageous plot twists before things are finally resolved. Somewhat.

Game Night is concentrated comedy gold. Written by Mark Perez and directed by John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein, it is so intricately plotted that I can't complain about the moments of extreme absurdity. Each couple gets an entertaining story arc, everything get tangled and untangled elegantly, and the entire thing is carried off by an all-star cast that knows how to sell every moment and keep you intrigued till the end. There were multiple moments where I burst out laughing, and there were also moments where I literally hugged my knees to my chest (we were watching in a recliner theater) and cringed because things were getting way too bloody and hilarious. It is such a wonderful, stupidly clever movie, and I hope there are sequels because I could watch this kind of thing forever. 

And the 2018 Oscar Goes To...

Another year, another Oscars, another Pop Culture Scribe Oscars blog post. This year, I have slightly broken with tradition, in that there are two categories (Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor) where I didn't see one of the performances. In my defense, I was so devastated that The Florida Project didn't get nominated for Best Picture that I lost the will to be an Oscar completist this time around. On that note, let's venture into my picks for this year's ceremony.

Best Picture: Did I mentioned The Florida Project was robbed? Anyway, despite that oversight, this category still contains some brilliant films. Unfortunately, signs are pointing to a win for either The Shape of Water or Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, neither of which I would have picked for Best Picture. If one of those two has to win, please let it be The Shape of Water as that is a cinematic spectacle with sexy man-fish action. Three Billboards is clever, but boy, oh boy, is it tone deaf and should not be celebrated in our current political climate. Phantom Thread is gorgeous but weird, Darkest Hour has a strong central performance but is hackneyed in its final moments, and The Post has clunky Oscar bait written all over it, with no actual substance. Call Me By Your Name and Dunkirk are two very different movies that both manage to be emotionally resonant and get the viewer right into the shoes of its protagonists, but they did not steal my heart like Lady Bird, which is my top pick. That movie tore into my soul and reminded me of my teenage angst in the best possible way, and it is funny and charming to boot. With a terribly effective use of the Dave Matthews Band (who would have thunk it?). However, if it could tie with Get Out, that would truly be sweet, as that movie may be the most revolutionary thing in cinemas last year. I recently re-watched it with a friend and it really is the gift that keeps on giving.

Best Director: Greta Gerwig for Lady Bird or Jordan Peele for Get Out. As mentioned above, if their movies could tie for Best Picture, it would be amazing, and if these two could also tie for Best Director, that would be equally grand. But if I have to pick one, I'm gonna go for the lady (#TimesUp gentlemen!), and pick Gerwig. Chances are Guillermo del Toro is actually going to walk away with the prize, and while he is a perfectly capable man, he did not make a movie that I wanted to re-watch the second it ended and recommended to everyone I met for months after.

Best Actress: It's going to be Frances McDormand for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. McDormand was great in the movie, and will probably give a hilariously unconcerned Oscar speech, but still. Ugh. I'd rather give it to Saoirse Ronan for Lady Bird (particularly if John Travolta is presenting the award and has to say "Saoirse"). Sally Hawkins was a dream in The Shape of Water and kept that movie afloat (pun intended!) while Margot Robbie spun circles around the competition (extremely labored pun intended!) in I, Tonya. So really, I wouldn't mind any lady winning this award, except for Meryl Streep for The Post. Sorry, Meryl, but even you know that nomination was a crock.

Best Actor: Daniel Kaluuya should win. That Get Out performance was nuanced and impeccable and will be talked about for years to come. But he isn't going anywhere (neither is Timothee Chalamet, though I do wish there was an honorary Oscar for Best Love Scene with a Fruit) so fine, we'll all step aside and let Gary Oldman have his award for Darkest Hour. Daniel Day-Lewis has been lauded enough and that Phantom Thread performance didn't deserve a statue. And sorry Denzel, but I couldn't be bothered to watch Roman J. Israel, Esq. When and where did this movie even come out? I am flummoxed.

Best Supporting Actress: Allison Janney has been sweeping the awards for her work in I, Tonya. But Laurie Metcalf is so much more deserving for her work in Lady Bird. Lesley Manville was a magnificent enigma in Phantom Thread, Octavia Spencer was trusty and wise in The Shape of Water, and Mary J. Blige was quietly powerful in Mudbound, but no one held a candle to Metcalf as far as I'm concerned.

Best Supporting Actor: Like Gary Oldman, Sam Rockwell will win because he is a respected actor who has never won an Oscar. And yet, that character in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is so odious and unforgivable that all I can do is hope he somehow splits the vote with his co-actor Woody Harrelson, and Willem Dafoe walks away with the award for his empathetic performance in The Florida Project (a movie that was robbed, did I mention that?). Richard Jenkins is a lovely, reliable actor, but he didn't particularly wow me in The Shape of Water. And I didn't bother to watch Christopher Plummer (who already has an Oscar) in All the Money in the World because frankly, who has time for that actor-swapping drama?

Best Original Screenplay: I am torn again between Get Out and Lady Bird, but for this category, Get Out gets the win for true originality. Movies like this don't come around often, and when they do, you should applaud them with all your might. So Jordan Peele, grab a statue. And if he gets defeated by Martin McDonagh, the whitest man alive who wrote Three Billboards, I will be rioting. Shout out to Kumail Nanjiani and Emily Gordon for their nomination for The Big Sick, a very sweet romcom that leaned too heavily into stereotypes of traditional brown women and families to truly win me over. I'm allowed to make fun of brown people, but you're not, goddamnit.

Best Adapted Screenplay: General consensus is that James Ivory should win for Call Me By Your Name and that's fine and dandy by me. He managed to make a movie out of a book that traffics largely in internal monologues and feelings, so job well done, here's your Oscar. Mudbound is based on a novel by a Wellesley woman (obligatory Wellesley woman shout out!), but the screenplay was a bit too sprawling for my liking. Logan was fine but nothing to write home about, and my feelings about the painful Sorkin-ness of the Molly's Game script have been made abundantly clear. I did love The Disaster Artist, but ultimately we should go for the classier choice. Plus, we don't need to validate Tommy Wiseau's opinions about his artistic prowess.

That's it for the major categories. I would love a Best Cinematography win for Rachel Morrison's work in Mudbound as she is the first woman EVER nominated in this category (it's been 90 years, Academy, WTF). But renowned cinematographer Roger Deakins is nominated for his 14th award and still hasn't won, so he will probably beat her to it. Are we noticing a theme of men winning "because they're due" while women (except Meryl Streep) are still fighting to just get a nomination? No? Just me? Moving on.

Baby Driver should get Best Film Editing because that movie is an absolute masterclass in editing. And I think I have opinions on Sound Mixing and Sound Editing, which share the exact same nominees in both categories. Dunkirk and Baby Driver had very effective use of sound so I would like them to win something, but because I have absolutely no clue what the difference is, I'm going to leave that one to the professionals. And finally, Best Costume Design to Mark Bridges for Phantom Thread. And yes, it's cheating because the entire movie is about a fashion designer, so of course the clothes will be sumptuous, but whatever. I could practically feel the satin running through my fingers.

See you on Sunday night for a long, star-studded salute to Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri that will make me very angry. But hey, that's 2018 for you!