Thursday, December 25, 2014

Birdman (2014)

We’ve all seen it happen before. A young, relatively unknown actor makes it big, getting cast as the next big super hero; the franchise is popular and immediately spawns sequels; the actor is suddenly one of the biggest stars in the world and gets casting calls from great directors like Ron Howard, Martin Scorsese, etc. Then one day, the franchise no longer feels fresh; the actor is booted and some other young rising star takes his place in the reboot. The old actor is now a shell of what he once was and desperately attempts to cling to relevancy while the world laughs and forgets. The complete and elaborate exploration of the aftermath of this story is what Birdman is about, but that is not necessarily what makes Birdman such an intriguing art piece and one of the best films of the year.

There’s likely only two movies released in 2014 (that I’ve seen so far) that I can say truly blew my mind (sorry but Interstellar is totally not one of them) the first is Boyhood and the second would be Birdman. Now, if Boyhood is a long overlooking picture dedicated to the journey of childhood, Birdman is almost the opposite; Instead, the film is more of a snapshot taken near the end of a man’s life, and contained within this snapshot is every fear, failure and regret that Riggan (played rather admirably by an intense Michael Keaton) has ever had and still has.

There’s a lot to love about this film, but one aspect that really makes this film unique is the cinematography; throughout the entirety of the film all the way to the last fifteen minutes or so, the movie is filmed as one, single take. The camera seems to be a character itself as it follows people down hallways, jumping from one character to the next without a single cut, panning to show reaction shots and pulling back from the scene at just the right moments. Certainly, the cinematography here is deserving of all the accolades I’m sure it will be receiving in the coming months; the timing alone is mind boggling throughout the film.

To focus too much on the camera would be to ignore the truly unique storytelling in this movie; from the very beginning we’re thrown straight into the situation without any setup and we’re forced to catch on as we go. This method works perfectly and mostly avoids any (terribly, awfully) boring exposition-type dialogue, while also managing to keep the viewer interested and engaged rather than lost and bored. We’re also left to wonder who’s perspective we are seeing in the film as time goes on, I don’t wish to spoil anything so I won’t get into the details here, but suffice to say there is at least some doubt as to whether our “narrator” (being the camera here and not an actual voice-over thankfully) is actually reliable or not, and the end of the film leaves plenty of room interpretation.
Another element of Birdman is the depth of the characters, and for once the characters in this film actually feel real and believable. Not since Boyhood has there been a film where I really appreciated the writing of not just the main characters but the supporting characters as well. Without ever having to necessarily say anything we can feel the history between characters and it definitely feels real. Also, kudos to Edward Norton for completely pulling off the pretentious, douchey actor role (it doesn’t seem to exactly be a difficult role for him to channel) and bringing the very idea to a whole new level.


In essence, Birdman is a parody of Hollywood and a parody of those who hate Hollywood and a parody of us all, and it works beautifully. At one point, Michael Keaton chews out a theater critic who boasts that she will ruin his play; he calls her out as a fraud who merely puts a label on things and never actually puts anything on the line herself. He claims that he’s the real artist because he works his ass off and puts his all into his acting, baring his soul to the world and thus making himself ultimately vulnerable. This definitely got me thinking (being someone who likes to write reviews as a hobby) and I have to say it’s something I’ve always felt about a lot of critics. Too many are simply slamming a film without thinking, wrapping up an entire film with some pretentious, snazzy one-liner that maybe someone will glance at on Rotten Tomatoes and then say “well, I heard the reviews were bad.” On the other hand, many clamor to praise a film simply because it’s hyped and the director is really famous and because all the other critics are praising it, without even evaluating the film on its own merit. However, to say a critic doesn’t put anything on the line I think is false. Anytime one makes their opinion public, it invites its own criticism and putting out a review, while certainly not on the same level as putting out a film or play, is also risky and means opening oneself to the public, something that is scary no matter what. Really, I think that may be one of Birdman’s better points, and it’s definitely something that we should all keep in mind, especially when critiquing someone’s else’s beloved self-creation.

-Ryan Maples

Rating: 9.75



Thursday, December 18, 2014

The Theory of Everything (2014)

Almost since the beginning of conscious thought, humans have looked up to the sky and asked themselves one question, what is the meaning of it all? Over time we as a species have come up with thousands of solutions and millions of answers, but none that have ever been concrete enough to convince even a majority that any one answer is true. Many great scientists in time have contributed their most valiant efforts in an attempt to find the answer, and their results, while not providing an overall answer brought us farther than we ever believed possible. Men like Einstein, Newton, and the latest great mind of our generation, Stephen Hawking. Stephen Hawking may have brought us even closer than he can even know, for Hawking has provided us with the best hope for a solution that we’ve ever had; he’s given us an almost sure bet, now we just have to figure out what it is. For now, all we really know is the one thing Hawking and so many others, scientists and non-scientists alike, are completely obsessed with, time. What exactly that means is unclear, but one thing is clear; if you can find the one equation that can allow us to completely understand time and how it works, we can figure out the one equation that explains our entire universe, or so goes the theory of everything.

Surprisingly, the film The Theory of Everything doesn’t go into great detail on Hawking’s scientific exploits although it does devote a satisfying portion of the film to it it’s certainly not about it. On the contrary, The Theory of Everything is a love story, and it’s as equally heart-warming as it is heart-breaking. When we’re introduced to Hawking, he’s a gangly, awkward, nerdy fellow, with a sheepish grin and a shy slump. I can’t explain why exactly but he’s immediately likable and even though he’s a bit strange I can fully understand the future Mrs. Hawking’s attraction. It’s clear that she’s immediately taken by him and you can only wonder what their life would have been like had tragedy not struck them both.

I would hope by now everyone knows of the infamous Lou Gehrig’s disease that has afflicted Stephen Hawking, so I won’t say spoilers here; the film doesn’t waste any time getting there and hints of his debilitating health are sprinkled in early and often. Here I have to take a moment and really commend Eddie Redmayne and the amazing job he does of bringing Stephen Hawking to life. It’s fascinating to watch as he goes through each progressive stage of the disease and its clear Redmayne really dedicated himself to learning exactly how the disease affects the human body. What he’s done here with his physical performance alone is incredible and he definitely deserves at least a nomination for best actor.

The real story (and mystery) is the relationship between Stephen and Jane Hawking, and this is what truly makes the story beautiful and tragic. Hawking learned of his disease at an early age, right after he and Jane began dating, and was told he had only two years to live (doctors, am I right?). Despite being told she was picking a losing battle, Jane swears to stay with Hawking and love him until the disease takes him from her. There’s only one problem, he doesn’t die in two years, or in ten, or in twenty. Stephen Hawking continues to live on and even though he can barely manage a few words a minute, he continues to contribute his brilliant theories to the world of science, as his brain is now his one and only thing he can still hold dear. Unfortunately, his brain is about the only thing that he can still properly use, and this makes life incredibly difficult for his loving wife.

Certainly, Jane Hawking is commendable for the challenge she willingly took upon herself and she tries (and to a point succeeds) her very best at creating a normal family with him, and she stays with him to the very end, fiercely if almost reluctantly loyal. However, the wear and tear of the disease affects not only her husband, and it is clear that she seems sad and depressed throughout most of the film. Still her faithfulness to her husband is admirable, even when she is faced with the grave temptation of her husband’s volunteer care-taker, the director of the church choir. Their chemistry together is obvious and it seems even Stephen Hawking can’t ignore it, but we can tell he understands, although it saddens him.

This is what makes the film so endearing though, studying Jane and Stephen’s relationship. They shouldn’t work for so many reasons and a lot of times they don’t, but when they do, it all makes sense in the most beautiful way. They have so many differences, Jane is a devoted Christian, Stephen doesn’t believe in God, however, we can tell that Jane respects his genius and in the same way, Stephen respects and is also amused by her faith. He can almost never admit it, but in a way I think he is almost jealous of how sure she is that her faith and her answer for life is right, something that a true scientist can never allow himself to have.


The ending of the film is one of the better resolutions I’ve seen; I won’t spoil it but it goes hand in hand with Hawking’s original theory on how time and the universe operates. This isn’t an incredibly detailed documentary film on Hawking’s life; rather it is a poetic overall synopsis of his life and his legacy, and it certainly does him justice. It’s good to see one of the more brilliant minds of our time get a biopic he deserves, even if Steve Jobs can’t seem to get one.

-Ryan Maples

Rating: 8.75


Thursday, December 4, 2014

Nightcrawler (2014)

Nightcrawler is definitely one of the more interesting films out this year, and this is in large part thanks to Jake Gyllenhaal. Looking extra skinny here, (which is all the more impressive when you see how bulked up he got to film the upcoming movie, Southpaw, almost immediately after) Jake Gyllenhaal turns in one of his most impressive performances in a role that really challenges the likability factor of its main character.

That’s really the thing about Gyllenhaal’s character, too, he’s not supposed to be likeable, in fact he barely even seems human. In one scene he talks about “people” almost as if he isn’t one of them and mentions how much he despises them, and he treats others as a means to an end and nothing else. However, his disregard for others and human life in general is played in a most intriguing way. We get the sense that Louis (Gyllenhaal) is fragile, despite all of his conniving ways and we get to see the ugliness inside come out when things really don’t go his way.

More of a character study than anything else, Nightcrawler has a rather simple story, but that doesn’t make it any less engrossing. Louis begins the film clearly searching for his passion; he is almost chameleon-like in the way he approaches others and attempts to absorb every bit of knowledge they possess. He gleans the internet for information and effectively teaches himself anything he wishes to know. Before long, he discovers his passion, filming the gruesome on scene footage for the TV news.
Although he starts out as a real amateur, it’s fascinating watching him learn from others and effectively step over them to the top. His character is a user and once he’s done using people he tosses them to the side like garbage, but he does it with a unique style.

What really stands out in this film, though, is Gyllenhaal’s acting. He truly embodies this creep of a character and his mere actions and expressions inspired gasps throughout the audience at the theater I was in. If anything, I would recommend this film for his performance alone as it’s a real treat to watch him dive into the role.


The movie comes to a rather crazy conclusion and when it’s all said and done, the ending is perfect for this film, in my opinion. It may not wrap up quite like most movies, but I appreciated the climax and the way it blended with the overall tone of the film. If you’re looking for a fascinating story that provides a different feel than your average movie, you can’t go wrong with Nightcrawler, just don’t be surprised if you find yourself begrudgingly rooting for Louis, even when he’s being an awful person. Then again, that’s the fun of Nightcrawler.

-Ryan Maples

Rating: 9