Armageddon Time

 

Director James Gray

Gray with cinematographer Darius Khondji

ARMAGEDDON TIME        B                                                                                                     USA  Brazil  (114 mi)  2022  ‘Scope  d: James Gray

The thing that most white people imagine that they can salvage from the storm of life is really, in sum, their innocence.  It was this commodity precisely which I had to get rid of at once, literally, on pain of death.  I am afraid that most of the white people I have ever known impressed me as being in the grip of a weird nostalgia, dreaming of a vanished state of security and order.      —James Baldwin, The Black Boy Looks at the White Boy, from Esquire magazine, May 1, 1961, The Black Boy Looks at the White Boy - ALLISON BOLAH

James Gray is one of those filmmakers who is better received in Europe than he is in America, as his early films like LITTLE ODESSA (1994), The Yards (1999), and WE OWN THE NIGHT (2007) express a shocking violence where death is a prominent theme, known for also creating memorable nightclub sequences, yet despite rave reviews at Cannes, these deeply personal films were often overlooked and received sharply divided reviews.  But for all their dramatic expansiveness, these early crime pictures were of a kind not seen since the New Hollywood classics of the 1970’s, where Gray is a cinephile clearly impacted by the films of that era, citing Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist (Il Conformista) (1970), William Friedkin’s THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1973), Francis Ford Coppola’s THE GODFATHER (1972), and THE GODFATHER Part II (1974), and the films of Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, and Stanley Kubrick, yet claims the film that has had the most enduring influence on him was Coppola’s APOCALYPSE NOW (1979), noting that the “swell of the architecture of a movie is part of what makes it the most beautiful visual art form.”  While he has passionate supporters, he has just as many detractors, where he’s never been able to find a mass audience, yet French critics love him, which is why he’s become a Cannes regular for over twenty years, with this film receiving a 7-minute standing ovation.  A native of Flushing, Queens, Gray’s first films tell personal, if loosely autobiographical, stories set in Brooklyn, venturing to Ellis Island for his historical drama The Immigrant (2013), making his way to the Amazon jungle and even outer space for his next projects, before finding his way back home to Queens, making his most autobiographical film, a portrait of his upbringing in the 1980’s, with the Gray family name shortened from Greyzerstein at Ellis Island, a time when a post-Vietnam, post-Watergate America returned to conservatism, placing a halt on any socially progressive agenda.  The youngest son in an upwardly mobile Jewish-American family, 11-year old Paul Graff (Banks Repeta) is an alter-ego of the director, with an antagonizing older brother Ted (Ryan Sell), and second-generation parents Esther (Anne Hathaway) and Irving (Jeremy Strong), while Anthony Hopkins plays the kindly grandfather Aaron Rabinowitz, whose family fled first from the murderous acts of the Cossacks, and then the Nazi’s.  While Jewish history is a predominate theme, this film slyly overlays a similar theme taking place in America with the routine persecution of blacks, who are subject to a heavy-handed authoritative approach from government, schools, and police, quickly labeled troublemakers or criminals, never receiving the breaks or second chances that whites often receive.  A family drama that reflects on a small scale where the whole country is headed, the film is a sober reflection, a coming to terms with one’s own past, which clearly haunts the filmmaker to this day, exploring a generational failure, characterized by the 1980 Presidential election of Ronald Reagan, who was swept into office on a tide of racism and a legacy of dog-whistle bigotry, featuring his slogan, “Let’s make America great again (sound familiar?),”  Pandering to racists through Nixon’s Southern Strategy, which continues to harm communities even today, Reagan released southern states from school desegregation and voting rights mandates while demonizing black women as welfare queens who want free hand-outs and are unwilling to work for a living, making the rest of the country despise who they are and everything they stand for, planting the seeds for the white supremacy of Trump, whose family makes its eerie presence, almost like a horror film.  By the time Donald Trump becomes President in 2016, Republicans hold almost every governor’s office and control most legislatures across the South.

The film’s title comes from a 1979 reggae song by The Clash, The Clash - Armagideon Time [Single] - YouTube (3:51), the B-side of London Calling, while also referencing Ronald Reagan’s 1979 quote on Jim Bakker’s evangelical PTL television network, openly campaigning as an evangelical Christian, expressing his growing interest in the anti-gay theology of Armageddon, “Do you ever get the feeling sometimes that if we don’t do it now, if we let this be another Sodom and Gomorrah, that maybe we might be the generation that sees Armageddon?”  This coming-of-age story reveals the different trajectory of the lives of two young boys, one white and one black, Paul and Johnny Davis (Jaylin Webb), quickly becoming best friends in a 6th grade class at P.S. 173, as both are singled out for being disruptive in class by the overzealous teacher Mr. Turkeltaub (Andrew Polk), who bears a resemblance to Ben Stein, the cartoonish teacher in FERRIS BUEHLER’S DAY OFF (1986).  While the point of view follows Paul and his family, we learn that Johnny has none, living with a grandmother suffering from dementia, basically leaving him homeless where he’s fending for himself, held back the previous year, the only black kid in class, with the teacher reminding him of his failures at every turn.  There are subtle differences in the punishment of each student, as Johnny is the one automatically blamed, even when Paul is the instigator, where he’s able to hide behind his race, learning very early about how racial dynamics play out in the real world, which only grew more exacerbated with the election of Reagan.  Despite such different backgrounds, they take solace in being outsiders, with Paul having little interest in school, spending his time drawing instead, with a talent for illustrations, creating a science-fiction superhero character named Captain United, dreaming of one day becoming an important artist.  Both share a passion for outer space, with Johnny dreaming of being an astronaut with NASA, while Paul wants to illustrate comic books about space travel, but their friendship is defined by the rebellious things they do together, like skip out on school, smoke weed in the bathroom, and hang out in the clubhouse built in Paul’s backyard, which Johnny secretly uses as his makeshift home.  While his mother Esther is the head of the PTA, Paul thinks she runs the school, protecting him from any adverse punitive acts, viewing himself as near invincible.  Overall, however, despite telling a personal story, the film feels distantly impersonal and heavy-handed, never becoming dramatically engaging, as outside of Johnny, there are really no likable characters in the film, with Paul in nearly every frame, and he’s kind of a bratty kid, misbehaving at home and at school, where he gives his parents plenty of grief, acting up in inappropriate situations.  When they try to express the gravity of their family history, Jewish-Ukrainian immigrants who escaped anti-Semitism in Europe, it’s beyond his comprehension, showing little interest as he routinely backtalks while tuning them out.  It’s rare to see a coming-of-age film with such a snotnose kid as the lead protagonist, yet he has a special relationship with his grandfather, who looks after him like a guardian angel, buying him gifts, showering him with affection, never letting him forget his past, as they may otherwise end up haunting you, which is exactly what happened in America, where embracing the sins of Ronald Reagan was a breeding ground leading us into the disaster of the Trump era.  Following in the footsteps of demagogue radio priest Father Coughlin, who commanded a massive audience in the 1930’s, viewed as the father of hate speech, spouting anti-Semitic and pro-Nazi tirades on the airwaves during the lead-up to World War II, (The Deplatforming of Father Coughlin - Slate Magazine), these are quasi-celebrities who blend populist appeal and right-wing politics, where today a narcissistic self-interest is the new moral dilemma plaguing the nation, as politicians openly seek face time on the networks, hoping to bathe in the social media spotlight of “Me-ism,” while everything else is purely secondary, like running the government or serving the interests of the nation.   

While America is supposedly a land of equal opportunities, one thing this film makes perfectly clear is how opportunities don’t happen equally, as the privileged take advantage by overlooking the many doors that were opened for them, typically at the cost of excluding the more disadvantaged.  Jews escaped persecution in Europe, as Aaron’s family discovered freedom in the welcoming doors of America, yet blacks have never experienced that same welcoming experience, as the doors have continually been closed for them throughout hundreds of years of history, which is astonishing when you think about it, as it goes back to the era of Columbus.  Even though this autobiographical film is not openly political, the experience of “white privilege” resonates strongly, as the education system fails students from marginalized groups in a disproportional way, while the paths of justice operate only for one of these kids, while the other feels the wrath of racial hatred.  Paul’s parents react with horror when they discover his partner in crime is a black kid, transferring all the blame to that kid, suggesting he’s a “bad influence,” overlooking their own child’s explicit responsibilities, while pulling him from the school and transferring him to Forest Manor, in real-life The Kew-Forest School, an all-white private school located in the affluent neighborhood of Forest Hills, Queens, the same school attended by his brother, along with Donald Trump and his family, where Donald’s father Fred is on the board of trustees.  Paul is extremely unhappy, as this means he will no longer see Johnny, but he quickly experiences a culture shock at the new school, where he’s required to wear a uniform, catering to upper middle class and wealthy families, with readily available computers in the classrooms.  When Johnny visits on the school playground, Paul pretends to barely know him, painfully aware of how his presence is perceived by the other students, who use the n-word to describe him, mocking his lowly status, while making him the butt of racial jokes.  When Paul attempts to talk about this with his grandfather, a bit ashamed that he didn’t stand up for his friend, his grandfather reveals how “the game is rigged” against marginalized groups in America, who experience a collapse of faith when the nation’s promise of freedom and equality doesn’t apply to them, which may explain his own family’s eager assimilation in pursuit of the American Dream.  While Paul and his family also face discrimination, he has the ability to escape much of it, as they have the resources to help him be successful.  Johnny is not so fortunate, with no support whatsoever in helping him achieve his dreams.  A powerful exposé of privilege and inequality, and how it is systematically perpetuated over time, the film is conscientious but difficult, as it’s a rather blunt depiction, providing little insight or background into Johnny’s character, who comes across as a token black figure, and doesn’t compare well to Barry Levinson’s Proustian sagas of Jewish life in post-war Baltimore in films like AVALON (1990) or LIBERTY HEIGHTS (1999).  In addition, the film has a very muted color palette, making it feel colder as it articulates heavier themes, with Gray using digital for the first time, shot by Darius Khondji, where the camerawork is dark and oppressive.  The Trump family are major donors to this new school, with Paul encountering Fred Trump (John Diehl), a powerful real estate magnate in Queens, in the hallway on his first day.  This period in his life is when Paul begins to understand how race, religion, and social class are used as reasons for bigots to inflict their damaging prejudice on others, often veiled and disguised in patriotic and life-affirming rhetoric which is meant only for a privileged few, perfectly encapsulated in a cameo appearance by Jessica Chastain as Maryanne Trump (Donald’s older sister, a federal appellate judge appointed by Ronald Reagan), who gives a rousing speech to the students about the importance of hard work to achieve success, declaring “you are the elite,” conveniently leaving out the part about inheriting a fortune from her father.  While many may not want to hear this message, just as they tuned out on Jimmy Carter’s prescient “crisis of confidence” message in favor of Reagan’s sunny optimism, but it is crucial nonetheless.  

American Psycho

AMERICAN PSYCHO           B        

USA  Canada  (101 mi)  2000  ‘Scope  d:  Mary Harron

I have to return some videotapes.     —Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale)

A film that seems to have been inspired by both Ronald Reagan’s right-leaning seismic shift on the social consciousness of America and David Lynch’s LOST HIGHWAY (1997), both of which suggest near inexplicable psychotic ruptures.  Meet Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale), an anonymous man in a perfectly chosen, well-tailored suit working on Wall Street which is suddenly aflush with money in the late 80’s, given the green light by the Reagan administration where portfolios skyrocket through the roof.  In this competitive era, jealousies are bound to exist, as it’s each man for himself, yet each yearns to be the alpha male in the corporate world, which is seen as a soulless, empty universe of rampant consumerism and hedonism, all fighting to be the star player with the biggest office, the sexiest secretary, an open ended expense account, and the apartment with a giant picture window overlooking Central Park.  Bateman narrates his existential sense of detachment to this meaningless existence (“I simply am not there”), as he spends all his income on expensive clothes, fancy restaurants, and upscale bars as well as high end drugs, pornography and prostitutes, all in an attempt to fit in.  It’s as if he’s a stranger in a strange land, feeling completely alien to the world around him. Harron does an exquisite job with space, exaggerating the influence of exteriors and interiors to reveal a pervading sense of vacuousness flooding the screen, as the near mindless chatter signifies the extent to which nothing matters to these people except themselves.  There’s a defining sequence where the men compare business cards, examining each with the care and consideration as they might a fragile art object, each man wanting theirs to be the best, then growing downbeat and dejected when people prefer someone else’s.  It’s all about making a name for themselves, being the center of attention, being the person other people want to be.  

It starts with rude comments that are so over the top one actually wonders if they heard correctly, but Bateman’s inner thoughts begin seeping out loud, yet these coarse, vulgar thoughts reflect the bullying nature of a man who thinks everyone else is subservient to him.  But where this film veers into its own unique territory is when the things people sometimes think to themselves start happening onscreen.  With visions of the surreal, Bateman takes on psychopathic behavior by picking up prostitutes and becoming a sex phenom in bed, especially provocative when he looks in the mirror at himself as he is fucking two women.  Here and only here, in a kind of wish fulfillment universe, Bateman has thrust himself into the center of attention, where he’s the master of the universe.  All the men in Bateman’s world ever talk about sounds like magazine descriptions of the best food, the best dish, the most perfect restaurant, or the “in” place to be.  The use of music complements this hyperbole, as Bateman begins describing in meticulous detail, which may as well be a psychological indicator, the music he is about to play before his lurid sex scenes, which include Huey Lewis & the News singing “Hip to Be Square” Hip to be Square - American Psycho (3/12) Movie CLIP ... - YouTube (2:56), which leads to an ax murder of his chief business rival, or the overpraised but inescapably monotonous Phil Collins song “Sussudio” American Psycho: Funniest Sex Scene Ever - YouTube (6:23), something bound to have been heard incessantly on the Miami Vice TV show, but used here to beef up Bateman’s overhyped sense of masculinity and swagger. 

When Bateman starts going after naked women with chainsaws, we know he’s taken a dive into a dark void, which leads to still more elaborately staged, near comic book mentality sequences that simply blow out of proportion, as the guy is starting to believe he might be getting into trouble.  But this is the 80’s, an era of high deficits where no one takes any responsibility, where Reagan is seen on TV defending the Iran-Contra scandal, where his government publicly told the nation one thing while secretly performing other actions out of sight from the public eye, suggestions of a secret government that answers to no one and exists outside any democratic measures.  If the President can say one thing on TV, but then do what he wants offscreen, then why can’t normal citizens?  All roads lead to self-serving measures, until the excess baggage begins backing up with dead and mutilated bodies that have been stashed somewhere, and suddenly those occasionally hilarious private fantasies, where the schism between fantasy and reality becomes seamless after while, explode into something so damaging and brutal that he begins to believe he can no longer handle it alone.  This is a creepy and bizarre nightmare of Reaganomics, where this sterile existence is completely insulated and protected from the outside world by huge amounts of money and influence, remaining out of bounds to the normal citizen, yet it is still portrayed as that promised land at the end of the rainbow, where the American dream is seen as little more than selfish greed, envisioned here in a scathing social satire where everyone wants to worship at the altar of its all consuming powers.    

They Live

THEY LIVE                    B+               

USA  (93 mi)  1988  ‘Scope  d:  John Carpenter

I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass... and I'm all out of bubblegum.   

—John Nada (Rowdy Roddy Piper)

Considered “the finest Marxist science-fiction film ever to feature a professional wrestler,” we finally have a movie that explains why it’s so difficult getting ahead in this world, that is, unless you *conform* and *obey the rules.*  This movie, set in Los Angeles sometime in the future, lays it all out for you, as a drifter, none other than professional wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper, arrives looking for work and hooks up with a construction company, but notices strange goings-on at a church across the street, which really piques his interest when a full-fledged police invasion attacks the church and an entire homeless camp which has been providing free shelter and meals is razed by bulldozers.  When Piper checks out what was secretly left behind at the church, he discovers a box of sunglasses that alter the viewer’s perspective, enabling the viewer to see in black and white what’s underneath billboard advertising, which turns into blunt subliminal messages which urge citizens to stay asleep, submit, obey, buy, conform, marry and reproduce, do not question authority, watch TV and have no thoughts.  Even more preposterous, it turns out aliens have infiltrated the human race in order to harvest our resources, which they are doing by controlling the TV airwaves and through extravagant business ventures, handsomely rewarding those helpful partners that grease the wheels for them.  With the sunglasses, however, one can see the skeletal faces of the aliens, as otherwise they are completely indistinguishable from other humans.  Piper goes a little crazed once he sees how humans are being manipulated, but the aliens are everywhere and seem to control the police.  When he starts to fight back, he realizes the aliens are all connected by strange wrist watches which immediately connect them to the police and can also help them instantly disappear without a trace.

Defying arrest, television broadcasts are interrupted by hackers who attempt to warn the world about their passivity, where independent thought is discouraged and people are ordered to “watch TV and stay asleep.”  Referred to as “free enterprisers” who routinely label their resisters as Communists, this is a brilliant exploration of contemporary 1980’s American culture through an outlandish parody of Republicans in the Reagan era, Big Money subverting Blue Collar interests, suggesting the yuppie revolution of the 80’s was actually an alien invasion, satirically portrayed here as aliens who wish to control the masses through psychological manipulation, hoarding all the money and power for themselves.  These broader themes unfortunately continue to plague us today, where not much has changed, as we still struggle with uncontrollable corporate greed and middle class apathy pitting the haves against the have nots, as never before in American history has so much wealth been concentrated in the hands of so few.  Piper turns into a somewhat berserk, lone American seeking vigilante justice, as while the world has turned into a totalitarian police state, the dialogue also gets a little campy with some choice one-liners.  In fact, the acting is barely acceptable, even for B-movie standards, and Carpenter’s bluesy score is extremely repetitive, creating a near hypnotic mood as the movie takes its time setting up the characters until all hell breaks loose and this turns into an action thriller that never takes itself too seriously, making this delicious fun throughout. 

Los Angeles’s darkly corrupt soul is finally revealed for what it is, a vast wasteland of subliminal billboard signs controlled by aliens, where Carpenter, from behind a pair of dark glasses, essential fashion in Southern California, by the way, abruptly alters how the viewer sees the world, often switching from color to black and white.  Perhaps the turning point of the film is a vicious fight scene between two friends, Piper and his working class buddy Keith David as Frank, an extended five-minute alley fight, a brutal affair complete with flying suplex wrestling maneuvers, all designed to get Frank to wear the glasses, a legendary scene that may have been the source inspiration for David Fincher’s FIGHT CLUB (1999).  Two working class stiffs fighting over what’s left of their stripped down pride and honor gives this film a timeless Us versus Them relevance, also a unique portrait of how the lower class is continually forced to fight over the last scraps at the bottom of the economic food chain.  Carpenter’s wit, expressed through a blistering critique of capitalism and the protections provided to an elite upper class, has never been so fully on display as in this paranoid mix of sci-fi and thriller, one of the great unsung satires to truly get the 80’s right.  It all plays out like a sci-fi, socio-political horror western, where the individualistic, frontier spirit has to fend off the foreign, outside invaders, which is the key to understanding most John Carpenter movies.  What’s unique here is that a professional wrestler is the one chosen to save the world, all given a tongue-in-cheek sensibility that plays out with the cheap fun of an original Twilight Zone or Star Trek TV program.     

The Iron Lady

THE IRON LADY                   C                    

Great Britain  (105 mi)  2011  ‘Scope  d:  Phyllida Lloyd           Official site

First we have a biopic on FBI Chief J. Edgar Hoover, J. EDGAR (2011), that suffers from selective amnesia, now followed closely on its heels comes a biopic on Britain’s first female Prime Minister (1979 – 1990), Margaret Thatcher, who herself is suffering from dementia throughout most of the film.  Both are iconic figures of the political right and both are despised by their opposition who they attacked ruthlessly during their autocratic rule.  Starring Meryl Streep and a good deal of make up allowing her to play Thatcher in her waning years as well as in her prime, it is a showy performance intended to shine the spotlight on Streep as a female King Lear figure, where the light is less flattering when shone upon Ms. Thatcher, who like Ronald Reagan in America, rode a populist trend towards nationalism, reaffirming people’s belief in being British, while refusing to negotiate or compromise with antagonistic opposing views, calling it a moral choice, such as trade unions (resulting in rampant unemployment) or the IRA (resulting in a flat out war with Northern Ireland, with Thatcher allowing the imprisoned Irish hunger strikers to die senseless deaths rather than be considered political prisoners), where perhaps the finest moment in the entire film shows Reagan and Thatcher dancing to the music of the Sex Pistols (like Nero as Rome burns) as the streets are bloody with endless demonstrations. Like Thatcher, Reagan suffered a similar fate with Alzheimers, where both went gently into the good night.  Thatcher seemed to have sacrificed everything in her rise to power, as her family life was all but destroyed in the process, finding herself alone in her twilight years flooded by memories and hallucinations swirling around her, often indistinguishable from reality, where she is constantly visited by the ghost of her deceased husband played by Jim Broadbent. 

While it adds a certain theatrical heft for Streep, too many scenes of Thatcher as a doddering old woman ruin the film, as they distract from what makes Thatcher unique in history, a woman breaking into an all-boys political network, which is nothing less than fascinating.  Irrespective of her political views, that’s an outstanding achievement of historical precedent and it’s easily the most exciting part of the film.  The bombastic music by Thomas Newman adds to a series of riveting moments when she stands up to the men in Parliament who attempt to heap scorn and ridicule upon her and brilliantly argues the Conservative side’s point of view, becoming the best spokesperson for her party because she passionately defends her positions.  The problem with the film is in the screenplay, which would probably work best accentuating the performance of the actress in a theater, who may hold the audience spellbound, but on film it spends too little time during the period when Thatcher was actually making history, brushing over those moments all too quickly with broad strokes, barely cracking the surface in terms of adding any psychological dimension.  Instead the movie recounts a few pertinent moments, offers a few self-righteous and indignant Thatcher speeches, shows a rumble on the streets happening outside as the population explodes against her austere business measures that put so many out of jobs and subsequently lose their homes.  It is a period where the rich get richer, while the poor suffer terribly.  Thatcher and the Conservatives have little sympathy for the poor, claiming each individual needs to climb out of poverty on their own without clinging to government for a handout, sounding more like class contempt than statesmanship.         

The British theater director Phyllida Lloyd is known for her work in opera, also the feelgood Streep musical MOMMA MIA! (2008), but makes exquisite use of a Maria Callas aria “Casta Diva (Chaste Goddess)” from Bellini’s Norma Casta Diva -- Maria Callas (Best) - YouTube, which is closer to the film version (5:44), or seen here in a live performance in Paris, 1958, also adding the follow up aria “Ah! bello a me ritorna (Beloved Return Unto Me):  Casta Diva (Maria Callas) - YouTube (9:25), shown during Thatcher’s dramatic, rose draped, exit from power, accentuating the precise moment when her reign is over.  Interestingly, during her elderly years, she’s more fascinated with Yul Brynner singing showtunes from The King and I, where she can recite how many performances played in New York and London.  One nice touch Lloyd brings to the screen is her initial obsession with feet, much like Bresson, where all are wearing men’s shoes except one pair of feet, which is a beautifully cinematic expression of making her entrance into the exclusive, all-male fraternity of British Parliament, where the “male members only” private chambers is a spacious, immaculately designed, crowded library and bar, while a glimpse into the “women members only” chambers is a lone chair and an ironing board set in the tiny quarters resembling a closet.  Compared to the era when Thatcher was remarkably making history, included among peers of international leaders where it was the Russians who coined the phrase “The Iron Lady,” the retreat to watching her feebly sitting at home in a darkened room watching home movies seems anticlimactic.  Too much time is spent watching her babbling to ghosts or fuss about what to wear, which diminishes her stature and makes her feel downright ordinary, missing an opportunity to become intimately familiar with what drove a woman of such unique stature.  Unfortunately, the film pales in comparison to the excellent, behind-the-scenes portrait of THE QUEEN (2006), which shows a woman struggling with her own place in history.