Showing posts with label Mike Mills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Mills. Show all posts

Monday, February 6, 2017

20th Century Women














20th CENTURY WOMEN               B                     
USA  (118 mi)  2016  d:  Mike Mills              Official site

When you were born, I told you life was very big and unknown.  There were animals and cities and music.  You’d fall in love, have passions, have meaning.  But now it’s 1979 and nothing means anything and I know you less every day.
—Dorothea Fields (Annette Bening)

Whatever you imagine your life is going to be like, know your life is not going to be anything like that.
—Abbie (Greta Gerwig)

A film that attempts to be like DONNIE DARKO (2001), only without all the cool stuff, where instead everything is analyzed and over explained to the point of exhaustion.  While it’s something of a fairy tale version about growing up in America during the Jimmy Carter era, just before Reagan’s appearance, it all feels like an end to an era of innocence.  The question, is why did it have to feel so innocent?  And the answer is this is filled with cultural references about growing up in an overly pampered youth, where you literally have no responsibilities to speak of.  Hell, in this film, you don’t even have to go to school, as it cleverly reveals a multitude of ways to get out of going to school.  While it deals with adolescence, where in every middle class life the child is always the center of attention, yet in this life, the kid has no household chores or responsibilities, no male friends, never hangs out with friends, never spends any time on the phone pursuing the opposite sex, never does any homework or spends time in school, yet is remarkably smart, as if he was born that way.  The film simply leaves out any world of reality to create this otherworld that exists only in the movies.   Actually, the film it most resembles is Cameron Crowe’s ALMOST FAMOUS (2000), which follows the fictional life of a boyish young teenage kid as he follows around various rock bands as an aspiring journalist writing for Rolling Stone magazine in the early 70’s, where the experience is akin to an innocent kid gloriously losing his virginity by the self-indulgent and raucous behavior of rock stars.  Well, trade the women’s movement for rock bands and you ostensibly end up with this film, which follows the life of a 15-year old boy, Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann), as he’s raised by a single mom who didn’t get pregnant until her forties, Dorothea (Annette Bening), along with the help of two other women, Abbie (Greta Gerwig), an art photographer in her twenties fascinated by the emerging underground punk scene, and Julie (Elle Fanning), a few years older than Jamie, but a girl he’s known all his life, which includes having sexual feelings, but she insists they remain strictly friends with no hanky panky.  Nonetheless, she has a habit of climbing into his window at night, stripping down to her underwear and slipping into bed with him, like an expression of sibling closeness, actually spending more time in his home than her own.  So basically, he’s a sensitive and impressionistic boy being raised by a three-women collective, suggesting this offers him a uniquely different perspective on life.    

Set in Santa Barbara in 1979, life is good, as there is no sign whatsoever of racial diversity, as this is middle class white suburban America at its aspiring best, where kids are well educated, live on tree-lined streets, and are on a fast track to success, as they can go to the best schools in the country and have access to the best jobs, where chances are they’ll be more affluent than their parents.  This is the world they’re born into, where privilege is built into the status quo, yet they’re blind to this reality, knowing no other world exists but their own.  The self-centered nature of the film is undeniable, yet the director’s unflappable recollection of all the cultural details of the era make this feel more like a time capsule visit back into 1970’s America.  While it has its quirky charm and offbeat humor, it also feels like a film out of time, lingering in an era that no longer exists, or never existed, really, where it remains questionable whether this has anything relevant to say about our modern era.  Contrast this film with Little Men (2016), for instance, another exploration of alienated teenage youth, yet it pulsates with a modern vibrancy that this film lacks, holding a more limited appeal.  If this film speaks to you, if you’re on the same wavelength, then more power to you, perhaps it’s enlightening for some, but the question is does it resonate with a wider audience?  Does it have universal appeal?  And it falls very short in that capacity, feeling closer to Captain Fantastic  (2016), substituting Annette Benning for Viggo Mortensen, adding feminism and the women’s movement for 60’s counterculture, where earlier cultural time periods have a hard time fitting into today’s myriad of modern era complexities.  Like the director’s other films, he tends to draw on his own personal experiences, from a 17-year old teenage angst story in THUMBSUCKER (2005) to being raised by a father that announces late in life that he’s gay in Beginners (2010), while this film, more of a tribute to his mother, is loosely modeled on Mills, born in Berkeley, being raised by his mother and sister.  While much of this describes the laid back California culture of the West coast, what’s missing is the pervasiveness of the pot smokers, as their influence cannot be minimized.  Instead what we see is a sympathetic yet existential single mom who keeps trying to figure out her son’s place in the world, who tends to be a bit of a distanced, but overprotective mother hen, though for his part, Jamie seems fairly well adjusted, where his absent father, divorced some time ago, is simply never mentioned and is not part of the landscape.

The entire film unfolds in a flashback mode, a constant reminder that what we see onscreen is already long gone, with various characters providing their own narration, though we largely follow the film on two tracks unfolding simultaneously, where we become more intimately acquainted with Dorothea and her son Jaimie, as their viewpoints comprise the majority of the film.  They live in a large house that’s being rehabbed, but in slow motion, as little progress is made, though William (Billy Crudup) is a handyman living on the premises, though his real passion is working on old vintage cars.  Dorothea and William both seem like leftovers from the 60’s, though neither knew one another at the time, so experienced it in their own ways.  While William is more of a drifter, not really rooted to one place or another, Dorothea remains rooted to her home, as it provides the security she needs, spending the start of each day reviewing the stock reports, rarely seen without a cigarette in her mouth, where she has a tendency to latch onto strangers and invite them to dinner, as this gives her a sense of broadening her reach without ever leaving her home.  Jamie is in tune with the quirky rhythm of his mother, and while she’s found a way to be happy and/or content with herself, Jamie is in constant search for whoever the hell he is, filled with plenty of insecurities and doubts about his own abilities, yet has a near mirror relationship with Julie, as they both tell each other everything and are always there to support each other, so there’s little lingering negativity between them.  Abbie is the other tenant, who easily stands out as the most individualistic and most in touch with the times, defined by her punkish exuberance and bright red hair, where she is perhaps the only one in the entire film who spends much time soul searching, so in a way, she becomes the real star, emblematic of the film’s spiritual center, as she’s the character most in the audience will identify with.  For some mysterious reason, Dorothea begins to think she’s losing touch with Jamie, that he’s getting away from her, unable to penetrate his teenage angst, so she enlists the help of both Julie and Abbie to act in a surrogate role to watch over and help guide him along the way.  When he goes out, his mother has no idea who he is, but they are often with him, so the three of them act as a collective nurturing force, all claiming to have Jamie’s best interests in mind.

The problem with the multiple voiceovers is the film becomes overly analytic, where there’s too much interior explanation for what’s happening, as the film doesn’t rely upon a plot structure, but is more open ended, yet leaves little space between the lines for the viewer to ponder what they’re witnessing, other than a recreation of the time period, as instead it’s all laid out for you.  For instance, as Abbie and Jamie attempt to explain to Dorothea the cultural appeal of the Raincoats, THE RAINCOATS Fairytale in the Supermarket - YouTube (2:57), she finds it mostly a lot of noise, as she’s a sucker for Bogart and Hollywood romanticism, preferring the sound of 1940’s big band dance music.  Jamie tells her, “Pretty music’s used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is,” while Abbie is more to the point, “What happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it,” claiming if the band was based on virtuosity, it would minimize the energy and detract from the open display of raw expression.  Part of punk’s appeal was its very limited technique.   While Julie tries to teach him how to smoke and walk like a man, Abbie hands him feminist texts like Our Bodies, Our Selves and Sisterhood Is Powerful, which he takes to heart immediately, amusingly showing how others in his peer group are not so enamored, especially when he suggests to a skateboard freak bragging about sex that his girlfriend might be faking orgasms, as he failed to properly stimulate her clitoris.  The next day their car is spray painted Art Fag on one side and Black Flag on the other.  Once again, Abbie comes to the rescue suggesting there is a deep divide between the male aggressive, hard corps punks like Black Flag and new wave art bands like the Talking Heads, who have an altogether dreamy quality about them.  While the cultural contrasts are designed to help him become a decent man, making this one of the few films that seriously attempts to deal with the current crisis of male anxiety in adults, looking back at the root of the problem, where one of the things the film gets right is capturing the interior emotional devastation in a mother watching her son gradually grow farther and farther away from her, knowing it’s a mandatory rite of passage, but hating it anyway.  Too much time, unfortunately, is spent searching for an existential meaning and purpose that simply isn’t there, no matter how hard you look.  While there’s actually poetry to be found in President Carter’s “Crisis in Confidence” speech, it becomes a prominent theme of the film.

I want to talk to you right now about a fundamental threat to American democracy…I do not refer to the outward strength of America, a nation that is at peace tonight everywhere in the world, with unmatched economic power and military might.  The threat is nearly invisible in ordinary ways.  It is a crisis of confidence.  It is a crisis that strikes at the very heart and soul and spirit of our national will.  We can see this crisis in the growing doubt about the meaning of our own lives and in the loss of a unity of purpose for our nation...In a nation that was proud of hard work, strong families, close-knit communities, and our faith in God, too many of us now tend to worship self-indulgence and consumption.  Human identity is no longer defined by what one does, but by what one owns.  But we’ve discovered that owning things and consuming things does not satisfy our longing for meaning. 

Cinema, which allows people to speak from beyond the grave in the form of home movies or archival footage, resorts to unorthodox methods in resurrecting significant cultural signposts, where we have the luxury to look back at turning points in history and examine what might have happened if men (and women) had taken the message of the women’s movement more to heart and instead of insisting on dominating the power structure, not get so embattled and defensive about the cultural message, which is really about sharing power and learning to treat people equally, suggesting the mistreatment of women is the number one human right, a view that was labeled radical at the time.  Evidence of male insecurity has never been more openly displayed than on our current national landscape, where the idea of treating one another with equal respect remains a deeply divisive issue that the nation has still not come to grips with half a century later, as evidenced by the sexually predatory and misogynistic rants of the newly elected American President, giving rise to the 2017 Women's March - Wikipedia, the largest one day protest in American history, joined by other similar marches around the world, where the best sign seen at the Women’s March in Chicago, January 21, 2017, “I wouldn’t want somebody to regulate my penis.”  Unlike the punk scene of the 70’s and 80’s that quickly flared out, women around the world aren’t going anywhere, and deserve to be included in any discussion about the future.  While the film is a celebration of a period of social history that gave rise to the women’s movement, it’s also clear that this remains a sadly unachieved political agenda, as women remain a distinct minority in any national debate, outnumbered four to one in the U.S. Senate, even more than that in the House of Representatives, and evidenced by the irrefutable fact that no woman has ever been elected President of the United States. 

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Beginners














BEGINNERS              A-                   
USA  (105 mi)  2010  d:  Mike Mills                Beginners  (official site)

Our good fortune allowed us to feel the sadness our parents never had time for.                
—Oliver Fields (Ewen McGregor)

Apart from everything else this is, it’s definitely a Los Angeles movie, and one of the better ones at that, using uniquely chosen natural settings offering such a positive view of the city, making excellent use of the distant skyline that of course includes the unsightliness of hovering smog while also using many interior shots of the Los Angeles County Art Museum.  But most importantly, from the opening shot, there’s a gorgeous home with a beautiful garden and big glass windows furnishing that perfect view of the city off in the distance.  It’s the kind of place one would like to call home, but immediately the narrator, Ewen McGregor as Oliver, indicates this is the room where his father died, which sets the backstory in motion, told almost entirely through flashbacks.  Apparently based on the director’s own personal experience, Mills has crafted a loving portrait of his father, Christopher Plummer, who announces he is gay at the age of 75 just after Oliver’s mother dies.  It has a kind of Buddhist spirituality about it, as it apparently took his mother’s death to allow the inner life of her husband to blossom, as he finally discovers a joy in life like never before with parties, dancing, and newfound friends, and even a much younger lover Andy (Goran Visnjic).  This picture of uninhibited happiness is a complete turnaround from the era of living in a closet, which Oliver knew nothing about until this recent revelation.  Through the use of family photos, still shots, and campy magazine photos, Mills beautifully expresses each era through the embellishment of advertising, including car and smoking ads, showing people enjoying their leisure activity.  Oliver himself has a kind of stunted emotional growth, stuck somewhere between the eras, never quite understanding the complexity of his parent’s relationship, which is even more baffling to him in the present. 

Despite the kumbaya feel good story that seems destined for the typical upbeat, movie-of-the-week format, this film has quite a few surprises in store, one of which is frequently jumping back and forth through different time periods, while another is an Asta-like dog (from THE THIN MAN series of the 30’s) that has a limited human vocabulary, where Oliver can actually comprehend his subtitled thoughts.  Otherwise, Oliver leads an emotionally detached life where he observes his father’s outpourings of happiness almost as a tourist, as he’s there through it all, but doesn’t exactly know how to join in.  Prodded by his coworkers where Oliver works as a sketch artist, he reluctantly attends a party where he meets Mélanie Laurent as Anna, an actress with one of the most impressive opening appearances, surprising everyone with her openly flirtatious style that is easily one of the best performances of the year, as she literally steals every scene she’s in, and may even steal the movie that’s not even about her, as she’s initially a tangential character, but her chemistry with Oliver provides the fireworks that’s missing in his life.  Still, he’s lost in a fog about the memory of his father, wondering how his parents could keep pretending for all those years, doubting his own capacity for a long term relationship.  It’s this bristling honesty that may be the most pleasant surprise and the true revelation of the film, making the viewer feel like they’re actually experiencing something remarkable happening, as there are snippets of gay rights history thrown in that allow people to reflect upon how love was expressed generations ago when it had to remain a closely guarded secret. 

One of the other delicious surprises is Oliver’s mother, Mary Page Keller, who due to the passionless circumstances with her husband decides to make Oliver her pet project by introducing him to age inappropriate material with unbridled relish, where she seems to be having a blast onscreen.  Oliver, on the other hand, is flabbergasted by this overtly scandalous treatment, embarrassed by his mother’s ultra liberated, free spirited style, eventually driving him to the obscure safety of that button down conservative that he is today.  But Anna shows those same sparks, another fiercely individualistic force of nature that literally defies belief, yet Oliver hesitates, as he’s done his entire life.  In fact, McGregor may hold the entire picture back, as perhaps he doesn’t wish to overstep what amounts to the director’s own personal life story, so remains something of a blank canvas waiting for life to color him in.  As is, he remains the odd man out in his own movie, something of a wet blanket, as his father, mother, girlfriend, and even his dog outshine him in every respect, where they couldn’t be more artfully crafted and intensely appealing characters onscreen. 

It’s a little like his role in I LOVE YOU PHILLIP MORRIS (2009), where he is rather tame and conventional in comparison to the ever cheerful but boldly outlandish Jim Carrey.  In each instance, you wonder if he’s worth the adoration the other characters pour on him.  He was so much better in the outrageously garish musical production that is MOULIN ROUGE (2001) and the downbeat existential ménage a trois in YOUNG ADAM (2003), as in each we felt we were literally inhabiting his skin.  Here he is stuck in the center of the universe, but it’s the stars and planets aligned around him that shine so much brighter. The mistake is always thinking we’re the center instead of just one of the movable parts.  Perhaps what prevents us from recognizing love is a psychologically imposed barrier of self-doubt, a kind of delusion that always leads to failure, where true love necessitates that you push aside that trap of self preservation and wholly trust that something better awaits you.  This is a film that never quite grasps the secret to lasting relationships other than insisting that fears and misunderstandings and other forks in the road are real, where from Oliver’s point of view, there is an open but still undiscovered path, but from Anna’s, there’s some question as to what she sees in Oliver in the first place, perhaps wondering why Oliver’s mother stayed in such an emotionally unfulfilled marriage for so long, questions that remain unanswered.  What we discover then is that we’re not ready for answers yet, that we’re not at that all important commitment threshold, but, as the title suggests, still in a feeling out and the getting to know you stage, in the throes of something they as yet barely comprehend.