The Hundred-Foot Journey (2014)

“The Hundred-Foot Journey” is largely a movie about food. It tries to romanticize the kitchen but sadly can’t quite get the audience to get emotional over their dinner like “Ratatouille” or “Babette’s Feast” can. The story of an Indian family opening a restaurant across the street from the French restaurant owned by Madame Mallory - a very, well, chauvinistic French chef stuck in her Frenchiness - tells of intertwining culture and overcoming bias. It is as familiar as it is stereotypical. A re-told story, however, rarely means a bad movie for me. A re-told story with one-note characters and boring, surface-y conflict does.

Helen Mirren and Om Puri are the veteran actors of the ensemble and also the most enjoyable thing to watch on-screen. The casting choice for Madame Mallory is interesting, of course, in that Mirren is not actually French. The weight of Mallory’s domineering character, however, would not have been the same were a lesser-known French actress cast in her stead. Mirren established herself as a regal presence worthy of respect in her Oscar-winning portrayal of Queen Elizabeth in “The Queen.” In “The Hundred-Foot Journey” Papa Kadam even addresses her at one point by saying, “You sit up there like a queen” to point out her self-satisfied, controlling, and entitled demeanor. To help establish Madame Mallory’s character as the standoffish and insensitive neighbor to the Kadam family, the choice to cast Helen Mirren – a well-established, automatic attention-grabbing actress, as well as offering a stark contrast to Puri – was only appropriate.

Likewise, the choice to cast Om Puri was well suited (though perhaps more obvious due to being an Indian actor). He has a great ability to play off the characters around him – particularly Madame Mallory. In one scene, when Madame Mallory grows upset at the loud Indian music, Puri nonchalantly tosses the tablecloth and calmly thanks her for barging into their home. In response to her condescending behavior, he promptly turns the music back up and starts dancing joyfully. This shows pride in his culture and feisty defiance to mistreatment. Their early scenes show the cultural difference with amusing conflict, but unfortunately these scenes are few.

These two performances are great and show an interesting side to the convergence and celebration of culture in the way I wish the food or the story had been able to. I'm sure this theme could have been better illustrated were these two talented actors given more time to interact and carry the story instead of allowing the younger actors and struggling plot filled with clichés to dominate. Manish Dayal plays Papa Kadam's son - the cooking prodigy who goes on to advance his career in other fancy Frenchy restaurants - and Charlotte le Bon plays the sous-chef of Madame Mallory's restaurant. The attempts at a romantic side-story seem half-hearted and unbelievable and both characters seem devoid of passion. It seems the son, Hassan, is the protagonist, but his character is underdeveloped and without much dramatic arc. I was left unsatisfied.

It's a tale as old as time where you know the end as soon as the beginning ensues. But "The Hundred-Foot Journey" brings nothing new to an old story. Any element with potential to enthrall is thrown in with laziness: the humor is brief and mediocre; the story takes no risks. Each actor's talent seems wasted and each potential conflict comes without tension. Of course, mediocre feel-good movies have their place. Nothing particular, though, stands out enough to make me remember it or desire to watch it again.

Ultimately, everything about the movie felt hollow. With Lasse Hallström as director, I expected "Chocolat" 2.0 and with Oprah as an executive producer, I expected something sentimental with a high probability of soap and cheese. I will admit, the time spent watching wasn't unpleasant. I just hoped that a movie with any kind of food subtext would leave me craving and hungry rather than checking my watch. 4/10

The Spectacular Now (2013)

High school comedies filled with irony and overstated humor are enjoyable. It is much more rare, however, to have an American teen movie grounded in reality. "The Spectacular Now" offers an unadulterated window into the fear and vulnerability behind adolescents.

Sutter Keely (Miles Teller) is a suave, self-assured, John Cusack-esque high school senior. He's one of those guys that's charming and popular: quick with the quip, and smooth with the ladies. But he's nice enough to be friendly to those outside his circle. His budding alcoholism and devil-may-care attitude towards his future causes his girlfriend Cassidy (Brie Larson) to break up with him. There isn't any melodrama to accompany the breakup - Cassidy merely honestly understands that she wants a future and Sutter can't even imagine one; he's too busy hiding behind his flask and living in the "now."

Sutter wakes up one morning on a stranger's lawn hung over and meets Aimee (Shailene Woodley). Aimee is a shy, bookish girl who - she claims - Sutter wouldn't notice normally. She isn't socially awkward; she is an intelligent, ambitious girl who stays out of the spotlight. Unless you actually were dictionary-definiton popular in high school (you know who you are) this was probably you. Sutter helps her with her paper route and she helps him with geometry. An invitation to a party, an invitation to prom, and the two become friends. Their relationship may be mismatched and the two of them may have different expectations, but it's still a beautiful shot for them to learn from each other. Sutter doesn't prey on Aimee, though we still wonder if she hasn't gotten mixed up in something complicated and inevitably unhealthy. Sutter's fleeting intentions aren't enough to warrant dislike from the audience, however; we just see him in all of his imperfections. It's like watching a dear friend go through a rough patch. Teller is gifted at bringing this kind of depth to a character.

Daddy-issues play no small role in Sutter's inner complexity. It's apparent that there is no dad in the picture, but Sutter seeks to find him at a kind of climax. The scene is less culminating than it is revealing. So much can be understood behind Sutter's alcoholism and outlook on life by this short scene with his father (sensitively played by Kyle Chandler - a much different father figure than Coach Taylor in "Friday Night Lights"). In one poignant moment, Aimee and Sutter fumble for change to pay for their drinks that the father neglects to have enough for.

Woodley, too, is a thoughtful actress. She was impressive in "The Descendants" and she doesn't disappoint in this more sensitive role. She's driven and dreamy, but still naïve. You can't blame her for being infatuated with Sutter and her flippant use of "I love you." Who hasn't been swept off their feet in a romance not meant to last? Her guileless performance, though, doesn't succumb to pity-prompting. It may seem she gives more weight to the relationship than he does, but she is still strong and capable.

It's deeply affecting. James Ponsoldt terrifically directs without settling for stereotypes. The script is much more concerned for how teens really think and feel rather than outlandish, raunchy outside behavior. Sutter and Aimee's intimate scene is emotional and unpatronizing; Ponsoldt handles the scene with sensitivity and care. Teller and Woodley have believable, understated chemistry and it feels true to life: real and vulnerable.

The film is left somewhat open-ended, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Life is open-ended. You know that Sutter has been given ample opportunity now to grow and change, but whether or not he actually will is up to him. "The real hardship is me. It's always been me." Living in the moment isn't all that it's cracked up to be sometimes and perhaps it's not worth it to stay in that moment, no matter how spectacular it may be. To live in the now is less important than to see a future.

These coming of age stories can sometimes feel old, but this soulful and sincere portrait of youth takes the genre on a new, more realistic turn. And it's spectacular. 9/10

Playtime (1967)

Art film is sometimes hard to understand or to relate with. “Playtime” is an excellent example of a film that lacks a conventional storyline but instead the production design, including the use of color, the frequent use of framing, and the enormous set communicates subtle messages of industrial technologies ultimately obstructing normal human interaction.

The large, ambitious set for “Playtime” was created especially for the film. Each towering building and major skyscraper was designed to create this mood of modernity through the sharp lines, the unusual shapes, and the bleak but bright colors. This simultaneously makes the audience feel both that this is something artificial and out of the ordinary, but also makes them feel like they are there experiencing it. There aren’t camera tricks to make things seem enlarged, it is actually designed that big so it has a much more overwhelming effect. The largeness of the effect almost seems to communicate that the presence of the artificial (including these buildings) is more important than the presence of the people themselves. The people are so small and insignificant in comparison.

The film frequently incorporates framing techniques that are unique to “Playtime” and Tati’s style. This is most noticeable in two scenes. In the office scene, every desk is surrounded by a box, or cubicles, as we now know them. This represents the closed off nature of the society and once again the dominance of the architecture over the people. Later, when Monsieur Hulot goes to an apartment, the entirety of the scene is filmed from the exterior. It looks like TV sets piled on top of one another with glimpses into private life, but with the lack of dialogue, nothing is learned beyond the surface action. This was a fascinating technique that really helped employ this theme of the decline of human interaction. There are some amusing physical gags particularly with our protagonist, but nevertheless you can’t help but feel that you are watching a TV show and all you will ever get is that one frame of reference – nothing deeper.

Lastly, the color scheme largely influences the mood. It is filmed in color, but still gives off the impression that it is black and white with its use of grey, blue, black, and white. Most of the buildings are white, while sharp contrasts are provided with black lines and black furniture. However, in most scenes there is some other color present. In the office, there is a man with a bright blue clipboard. Your eyes can’t help but follow him as the color stands out amongst the bleak. This, again, reinforces that technology and design dominate over the people, even though our eyes follow what little life we can find. The color also changes from beginning to end and other colors are much more apparent by the end than by the beginning symbolizing society’s triumph over the impending technology.

Though the plot (or lack thereof) is difficult to follow, this is a story that can be understood by paying close attention to these subtle cues created and manipulated by the set itself. In “Playtime,” the set is just as much a character as the actors are.

All the analysis aside (did you guys really make it through all that?) This movie is pretty boring and has little to no redeeming entertainment value. I wouldn't recommend it to anyone unless you're looking for a little artistic reflection. 3/10

The DUFF (2015)

As a huge fan of "Easy A" and "Mean Girls," I was anxious to check out Ari Sandel's "The DUFF." This might be because I didn't really go to high school so I like to live vicariously through these entertaining, stereotype-filled movies. Though really, they make high school seem miserable (and the one year I did attend was difficult enough) so maybe it just makes me feel better about missing out on the drama but still getting to understand it through comedy. Anyway, I doubt I'm alone in thinking that there is something incredibly enjoyable about these teen-comedies when they're well-written. Though the other two films are still funnier and have better jokes, "The DUFF" holds its own with a great heroine and a romance that is actually worth rooting for.

Mae Whitman stars as the vampire-movie-loving, overalls-wearing, boy-fearing Bianca Piper. She hangs out with Jess (Skyler Samuels) and Casey (Bianca Santos) - the textbook hot girls - who steal the affections and admiration of most of the school. At a party, Bianca's neighbor and QB hunk Wes Rush (Robbie Amell) brings it to her attention that she is the DUFF - the designated ugly fat friend - to her hotter counterparts. She is the gatekeeper; she is the approachable one whom men can exploit and find out the dirty deets on her less accessible, intimidating, dateable best friends.

This fuels a devastating and overwhelming identity crisis for Bianca. But when she realizes that Wes is right and that people only talk to her as a way to get to Jess and Casey, she determines to rid herself of "duff-ness" in order to get with her crush Toby (Nick Eversman). In exchange for helping Wes with science, he agrees to help and advise her in her predicament. So, yes, this entire premise is filled with stereotypes and clichés. There's the high school paper/assignment that culminates the entire point of the movie, the Eliza Doolitle trying on clothes scene, the quirky teacher and the neglecting parent (Ken Jeong and Allison Janney in two thankless roles, although Janney does get a great lawnmower intro), the homecoming dance, the catty girls, the gossip.

However, though it's entirely flooded with things we've already seen, these characters are surprisingly not wooden. This is most evident in the unexpectedly layered Wesley Rush. Neither of the love interests in "Easy A" or "Mean Girls" are terribly fleshed out nor are they characters anyone really remembers or cares about. Amell is a talented actor and he brings wit, charm, and sweetness to an archetype typically left to surface exploration only. Consequently, "The DUFF" is more than just a teenage farce and actually a sweet rom-com. Bianca and Wes share some very human moments together and their friendship is credible. It's a relationship that goes beyond the initial spark of a kiss.

Even Bianca's friendship with Jess and Casey is filled with more positive vibes than animosity. However, it's a shame there isn't more substance to that relationship. It almost works against the movie's ultimately positive message about friendship overcoming labels and support for self-confidence and discovery. It's still refreshing to see a friendship that, even when on a break, doesn't turn to cruel backstabbing and catty name-calling or treachery. In the end, the only character that feels wooden is queen-bee, mean girl, "pre-famous" Madison (Bella Thorne). This stereotype works to fuel the conflicts of embarrassing viral videos and Wes's on-again/off-again girlfriend.

Another thing that makes "The DUFF" stick out next to these other (and mostly better) teen-movies is its timely capture of technology's dissonant effect on 21st century high-schoolers. Though people in 2015 may not necessarily end a friendship by making a scene of unfriending them on Facebook, this still provides for commentary on the social-media infused existence we all live in. The wide shots of the entire school staring down at their phones, for example, are telling of these imminent issues. In addition, Snapchat, Pinterest, and Instagram references alongside onscreen hashtags and animations contribute to the overall idea that these viral videos and networks hover over constantly. This is simultaneously the most enjoyable feature and the biggest drawback. Inevitably this will date the movie and prevent future generations from understanding all of the jokes.

(On a side note, I'm pretty sure that kids these days don't say "Viral? Viral" to get things to circulate. Idk, but I'm pretty sure that's not how the viral thing works).

But despite some jokes that fall flat, and some clichés that go too far to "inspire", there is something that any insecure girl (including myself) can connect with. Obviously Bianca - who's as real as they come, bedazzled with piercings, and beautiful if not typeface hot - is not ugly, nor fat. But as Wes clarifies at the beginning - a DUFF doesn't have to be those things. It's the idea. Anyone with insecurities is a DUFF. I'm a DUFF. You've probably been a DUFF. We all feel inadequate in some way and struggle to overcome labels. Sometimes those cheesy messages about being yourself are worth repeating, I guess.

If nothing else, it's hard to dismiss a film that gives Mae Whitman her long overdue spotlight. Up until now, she has been a stalwart supporting role in things like "Arrested Development," "Parenthood," and more recently "Perks of Being a Wallflower." It's time for her talent to be displayed at the forefront. Her comedic timing is impeccable and it's fun to see her shine. This honest, adorable and relatable actress deserves this springboard for more complex roles.

So, no. I don't think "The DUFF" will pass the test of time like others of its genre have been able to. But it's still a snappy comedy full of charm and worth a watch. 7/10

The Theory of Everything (2014)

So how well do two biopics about famous British intellects hold well in the same season? Well, as the Oscars have come and gone it seems Eddie Redmayne bested Benedict Cumberbatch for the best actor race, though the "The Imitation Game" was a more satisfying movie. "The Theory of Everything," nevertheless, tells a compelling story of man versus disease and the brilliant performance of Redmayne makes it worth every penny (even if the movie fails to live up to its own title and explore deep into theories on the universe or to portray a satisfying romance).

I wouldn't go so far as to say that this is a one-trick movie, but Eddie Redmayne is certainly the main reason it's worth the time. Redmayne tackles the daunting task of playing Stephen Hawking - a brilliant physicist with Lou Gehrig's disease - with care and precision. It's not easy to play a man with such a limiting physical condition and he seems to not only struggle under the physical limitations but also think and feel as though he were so limited. This is particularly manifest in his astounding and flawless depiction of the degeneration of the disease despite the film not being shot chronologically. His twinkling eyes, however, never falter to show his youthful, intelligent spirit in search of answers about the universe.

Redmayne's performance is reminiscent of Daniel Day Lewis in his famed portrayal of a man with cerebral palsy in "My Left Foot" (1989). This performance, which won Lewis his first Oscar, was only the beginning of an impressive career and there is no doubt that Redmayne's resumé will soon include other noteworthy performances. I am not venturing to say that Redmayne is the next Daniel Day Lewis, but I am anxious to see what comes next in his career.

"The Theory of Everything" shines because of his performance, but there is something dissatisfying about the film primarily focusing on the romance between Hawking and Jane Wilde (gracefully, quietly played by Felicity Jones). It should be noted that the screenplay is based off Wilde's memoirs "Traveling to Infinity: My Life with Stephen" and not Hawking's own book "A Brief History of Time." That makes this a historical romance rather than a philosophical exploration of cosmology. This isn't a bait and switch situation, the trailers clearly marketed it to be such a film. Though his scientific work is much more inspiring than their disheartening romance, the film takes us through their relationship - spanning from their college years, to their marriage, to the birth of their three children, and to their eventual separation. It certainly wasn't a love story to sweep you off your feet or make you feel confident in romance. None of this is inherently bad - the film's honest and poignant take on Jane and Stephen's struggling marriage is as refreshing as it is exhausting. But perhaps I was hoping for a different film.

Hawking's scientific theories are groundbreaking and revolutionary. Though director James Marsh addresses the ideas of black holes, science vs. religion, and quantum mechanics, these themes are only touched upon at surface level. Limited to the romance formula that it subscribes to, it dares not explore beyond the top layer or tap into these theories that significantly impact the human existence. With spiraling camerawork up staircases or following the milk swirl in the coffee, the film teases at dappling into deeper questioning of infinity and space. Though it is possible to convey science for the layman, the film fails to reach its full potential to edify, inspire or provoke critical thinking by sticking to a more conventional story. We catch a glimpse of who Stephen Hawking was, but don't get the full story behind his fame.

"The Theory of Everything" is still an emotional, sophisticated, well-balanced film. The supporting cast was well-chosen, including David Thewlis, Charlie Cox, and Maxine Peake. The lovely Felicity Jones especially stands out with her graceful, yet intense portrayal of a conflicted wife. The cinematography and music also brilliantly come together to cultivate Hawking's quest for a  “simple unifying equation that explains everything in the universe.” So while the movie may not have moved me as a whole, there are elements that did, especially Redmayne. It's a performance piece that, by winning its acting awards, accomplished what it set out to do. However, it is far more preoccupied with its performances than it is with telling a compelling story. 6/10

Floating Weeds (1959)

“Floating Weeds” is a simple film with a simple story. It is heavily weighted with Japanese tradition and culture, but there are still universal principles in the underlying message. Director Yasujiro Ozu communicates through his unique camerawork, his depiction of Japanese culture and familial relations, and through simple depictions of conversation the universal ideal of finding beauty in the every day.

Ozu is revered for his filming style. He uses an unmoving camera technique to create the feeling that the voyeur is paying such close attention to the characters he wouldn’t want to miss anything by moving. Each low-angle shot feels like a still and the lack of zoom, tracking cam, and fade-outs make it seem like the audience is catching a precious, intimate glimpse into real life. It’s as if Ozu doesn’t wish to jazz up the every day just to entertain, we should just appreciate the privileges of daily living as they come.

Family relationships play an important role in this. In most cultures, families are valued; it is no different with Japanese culture. Having spent time in Japan myself, I've learned that the ways we express our love and appreciation for our family and loved ones differ from America to Japan. Komajuro, the main character, certainly exhibits a certain compulsion to be in control of his mistresses and son. The idea of a patriarchal society is very important to the Japanese people. This acceptance of male dominance can be disconcerting for the foreign viewer, but this was not looked down upon in 1950’s Japan. Komajuro cared for his son, Kiyoshi, and wished to protect him. There are a few instances of physical abuse from Komajuro to his mistress, Kiyoshi, and Kiyoshi’s lover. Though this left me with a bad taste about Komajuro, it was still just a manifestation of him caring after those he was close to in the way he knew how. His devotion to his family, though his methods are different from our own culture, still help us see the importance of caring for our own family and appreciating our lives with them.

Ozu manages to capture these glimpses into the family life through simple conversations. Besides the overarching conflict of Kiyoshi not knowing his true parentage, there are very few major conflicts. These family relationships are just a part of life. As we learn from these families, it helps us appreciate those small, meaningless conversations with our own families. Many times, we talk about nothing. But those are still formative in our relationship building and bonding. These times are to be appreciated.

“Floating Weeds” is sometimes slow and much different from other American films. But given the time, it is rewarding to relate to another culture and see the ways they appreciate their lives to help us appreciate our own. 5/10

The Imitation Game (2014)

Morten Tyldum's "The Imitation Game" is based on the biography "Alan Turing: The Enigma" by Andrew Hodges. The movie title, of course, refers to Alan Turing's occupation during World War II working undercover "to break an unbreakable Nazi code and win the war." This British pioneering computer scientist must hide his incredible contribution to the war to protect the integrity of the project. Now we know their efforts to break the Enigma code were successful and we know who was responsible. But as this well-kept British secret remained classified for many years, it's taken some time for people to appreciate the extent of Turing's hand in significantly shortening the war. This is made even more significant when we think of Turing playing not one, but two imitation games. Not only does Turing pretend to have a different job than he does, but Turing pretends he is not a homosexual.

The irony behind this idea of imitation is that Turing's personality is completely unapologetic. With these two large secrets he must hide beneath, he refuses to let any other facade control him. His genius drives his creation of this code-breaking machine he fondly names after his childhood love, Christopher. Though he works with a team of other brilliant minds he compulsively does things his own way and doesn't do anything to suppress his abrasive personality. His coworkers struggle to decipher Turing just as much as they struggle deciphering the Enigma. Turing's sexual orientation, of course, plays a role in his socially awkward behavior, though I don't mean this in a derogatory way. Homosexuality was outlawed in Britain at that time, for Turing to acknowledge who he was would be illegal. Turing plays the game, but not without a breaking point.

Benedict Cumberbatch smartly and complexly plays the role of Alan Turing. Though I have been reluctant to join the Cumberbatch fan-girl bandwagon (which, to be frank, I still don't totally understand), I was impressed by his impeccable portrayal of the troubled mathematician. Turing's odd and disagreeable behavior could easily be dismissed as a dislikable character, but Cumberbatch brings out the endearing side. He allows us to see beyond the surface to triumph with his successes and feel sorrow over his pain.

Cumberbatch is perfectly balanced by Keira Knightley's supporting performance. She plays Joan Clarke, the bright female team member and Turing's close friend. She represents a much needed soft, lighthearted, joyful side to Turing's hard-nosed, serious presence. Knightley manages to capture Joan's struggle between her unfaltering loyalty to Alan with the subtle under-the-surface heartbreak of a love that could never be fully reciprocated. Other supporting performances are notable including Matthew Goode, Mark Strong, and Allen Leech.

The story itself develops like a suspenseful drama with pieces of a puzzle coming together in the manner of slow computers. The tone and pace are brilliantly fitting for a movie set in 1939 at the dawn of computer engineering. Of course the computing process is painstaking and Turing's discoveries take a while to make any real change because what we are witnessing is invention at its purest. Turing's story of technological breakthrough is told in classic flashback fashion, but it doesn't feel overwrought. Starting in 1951 with the intrigue of a police investigation and a defeated Turing suffering prosecution for indecency, to flashbacks of 1939 Bletchley Park (where the bulk of the narrative is focused), and integrating further flashbacks to young, bullied Turing in 1927. The jumbled patchwork of scenes slowly reveal different facets of our main character's life and being to help create this puzzle effect.

Though Turing's homosexuality was important to note in the plot, I was disappointed that the ending changed its focus so much to LGBT rights. Don't get me wrong, I support gay rights. I just thought the idea of homosexuals being subjected to such horrible treatment is, of course, cruel but was already represented implicitly. The explicit closing credits changed what the film was about. It's not a political movement. This is a film to celebrate intelligence.

In fact, this is where "The Imitation Game" succeeds best: in its inspiring depiction of brilliance. Though Alan Turing was a rather socially awkward specimen, he exhibited brilliance in more than just mathematics. Right after he and his team break the Enigma Code, his quick thinking to the responsibility they now held in the war is, in my mind, the time where he proves himself most as a genius worthy of respect. This is one of those movies where you walk away having learned more about a story worth hearing. 8/10

Comparing The Graduate with The Great Divorce

Change and growth are fundamental to the human existence. C.S. Lewis addresses this basic need for change and progression in his short novel, "The Great Divorce." Of course, the premise is based in Christianity as he illustrates his points through a metaphorical tour of hell and heaven. For the religious reader, the novel can provide many spiritual insights into repentance and help further their desire to devote themselves to God. However, when I read this book I didn’t think first of religion. I thought of the main protagonist in the 1967 film "The Graduate." One may wonder, why Benjamin Braddock? He isn’t religious; he has no desire to devote himself to God. However, Benjamin Braddock represents each of us on our own different but equally difficult journeys to change. His scandalous affair with Mrs. Robinson is the basis for his life of stagnancy and difficulty to move forward. "The Great Divorce" provides a framework for both Benjamin and the reader to overcome complacency and progress to something better.

Change is a process and both texts tell of characters on journeys. In "The Graduate", Benjamin is returning home to California after graduating from college. The opening scenes show Benjamin in the airport standing on a moving walkway. He stands and he moves, but he himself is not moving – illustrating this theme of complacency early on. People pass him, seemingly busy and occupied. But they are not real to him nor do they matter. Much like the translucent ghosts in "The Great Divorce," Benjamin looks right through them. His clear feelings of isolation could be perfectly described by Lewis, “In spite of . . . a ‘crowd’, the solitude was so vast that . . . [he] could hardly notice the knot of phantoms in the foreground.”

The narrator in "The Great Divorce" is similarly on a journey. At the beginning of this journey, he is found in a grim city he refers to as the “Grey Town” and he further describes it as a place where the people seem devoid of joy. We later learn that the Grey Town represents hell and few of its inhabitants choose to progress to heaven, remaining stagnant. The narrator wonders, “Do they like this place?” and a fellow passenger responds, “As much as they’d like anything. They’ve got cinemas and fish and chip shops and advertisements and all the sorts of things they want. The appalling lack of any intellectual life doesn’t worry them.” Benjamin Braddock, too, finds himself in his own Grey Town. Upon his return home, and after becoming involved in his affair with Mrs. Robinson, he quickly plateaus to a state of complacency. He becomes satisfied tanning in his swimming pool under the California sun with plenty of margaritas and sex for his pleasure. He likes it as much as he’d like anything.

At this swimming pool, Benjamin and his father have a conversation that is very telling of the situation. His father asks, “Ben, what are you doing?” to which Ben responds, “Well, I would say that I’m just drifting. Here in the pool.” “Why?” “Well, it’s very comfortable just to drift here.” It’s easy to see why a life of complacency is temporarily appealing. Even though going to work or studying will ultimately help people to progress more than watching TV would, the latter is still a more appealing choice. “There is always something they prefer to joy - that is, to reality.” However, it may be easy to be content with complacency and meaningless material possessions, but that further entails ignorance to the happiness awaiting those who choose to progress forward. Benjamin is disillusioned by his affair and doesn’t see how his stagnancy is damaging. To the Apostate in "The Great Divorce" who will not change, Lewis adds, “What is more soul-destroying than stagnation?” A life without change and without progress cannot bring true happiness.

There is always, however, something or someone to hold us back from making changes. In "The Graduate," this is Mrs. Robinson. She has a hold on Benjamin that prevents him from progressing. When he starts to fall for her daughter, Elaine, he finally realizes that he must make a change. Mrs. Robinson, however, attempts to prevent this relationship and threatens “to make his life quite unpleasant.” We all have vices and weaknesses that prevent us from achieving our potential, and could be manifested by anything from ex lovers to alcoholism. In "The Great Divorce," the Ghost with a lizard on his shoulder represents this type of vice. The lizard’s incessant whisperings are seemingly discouraging the Ghost from continuing his journey. Just as Benjamin was disillusioned by his affair and couldn’t see how he could get out, the Ghost couldn’t see beyond the lizard. He quickly succumbs to the temptations and starts to turn around until he is stopped by one of the Spirits. The Spirit politely asks, “May I kill it? I cannot kill it against your will.” The Ghost couldn’t do it alone. Lewis teaches us through this Spirit that we sometimes need a helping hand to get out of these inhibiting situations. It’s hard for the one suffering to see clearly and the task to overcome these vices is daunting. However, another person can see beyond our own capacity and understand our vices for what they truly are.

The ghost becomes a new man. The lizard’s transformation to a stallion represents his weakness becoming his strength. The Spirit teaches the Ghost, “Nothing, not even the best and noblest, can go on as it now is . . . It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. Flesh and blood cannot come to the Mountains. Not because they are too rank, but because they are too weak. What is a lizard compared with a stallion? Lust is a poor, weak, whimpering, whispering thing compared with that richness and energy of desire which will arise when lust has been killed.” Though the Spirit is talking about spiritual rebirth, the universal principle we can learn is that true change must precede progression. Benjamin could have used this perspective. Though it is unclear how long this Ghost had the lizard with him, I can only guess that his journey to overcome the temptation was quickened by the aid of the Spirit. Benjamin was so caught up in his affair that he never sought other’s aid nor allowed people concerned about him to help. An outsider could have helped provide him with more perspective on his need to be reborn.

This process to become new and to change, however, is difficult. There are characters, like the Ghost with the lizard, in "The Great Divorce" that would wish to leave the Grey Town and continue their journey to heaven. In fact, some characters do leave and enter into another realm. They do not, however, anticipate the conditions of the next stage. In their ghost-like state, heaven is much too solid for them. The sharpness of the grass, the difficulty to navigate through the terrain represents the difficulty that comes with change and repentance. At first, it hurts. Who would want to remain in a place so painful to inhabit? The narrator soon sees that “if one stays . . . [there] one would get – well, solider – grow acclimatized.” So these characters must make a choice to either turn back and return to the comfort of complacency or to take the pain and grow.

Benjamin Braddock must also make a difficult decision. He has grown comfortable in his affair with Mrs. Robinson. He knows, however, that he will need to end the affair if he wishes to be with Elaine and soon sees that it could be painful. The choice to end it did indeed come with consequences and Elaine wished to never see Benjamin again. It would have been easy for him to step back from the pain and return to his state of complacency. But his choice to remain there – in the prickly, sticky situation – allowed him to acclimate. He knew he had found something better and was willing to work for it.

“You have seen Hell: you are in sight of Heaven. Will you, even now, repent and believe?” There must be a sacrifice in order to find heaven. It is not easy for Benjamin to finally get himself out of his rut, but when he sees the potential for his life ahead, he is able to repent. In the end he can leave his mistakes behind in Pasadena while he and Elaine move forward on a bus to an unknown future. Benjamin is able to change.

In the conclusion of "The Great Divorce," Lewis teaches that repentance is possible for all who wish to find it. The principle of repentance is much more than abandoning sin and searching for God. This need to overcome complacency and move forward with life is a necessity of humans regardless of their religion. As we reflect on our own lives in comparison to Benjamin and through the framework that "The Great Divorce" illustrates to help us progress, we can see that repentance and progression are universal. Though the future may be uncertain, there is more hope in choosing to progress than there is discouragement. And “if they leave that grey town behind it will not have been Hell”

87th Oscar Predictions and Picks

PICTURE: Boyhood

Birdman, maybe? I'm gonna swing for Boyhood on this one. But I have to say that Grand Budapest Hotel was my favorite from this year.

DIRECTOR: Richard Linklater - Boyhood

I love Inarritu, but just based on the 12-year thing ALONE, I think this should go to Linklater.

ACTOR: Michael Keaton - Birdman

This is a tough one (isn't actor always pretty tough?) it might swing to Redmayne, but Keaton was my favorite part of Birdman and should be acknowledged!

ACTRESS: Julianne Moore - Still Alice

Have you SEEN this movie??

SUPPORTING ACTOR: JK Simmons - Whiplash

There is literally no competition. Though I hope Mark Ruffalo gets his someday.

SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Patricia Arquette - Boyhood

I feel very solid in this pick. I never used to like Arquette, but she is great in this.

CINEMATOGRAPHY: Birdman

COSTUME DESIGN: Grand Budapest Hotel

ANIMATED: Big Hero 6

DOCUMENTARY: Citizen Four

I know nothing about documentaries, I never do, so it's always a random pick in this category.

DOCUMENTARY SHORT: Crisis Hotline

Same

FILM EDITING: American Sniper

FOREIGN LANGUAGE: Ida

MAKEUP: Grand Budapest Hotel

MUSIC: Grand Budapest Hotel

SONG: "Glory" from Selma

PRODUCTION DESIGN: Grand Budapest Hotel

SHORT FILM (ANIMATED): Feast

SHORT FILM (LIVE): Boogaloo and Graham

Wtf is this anyway

SOUND EDITING: Birdman

SOUND MIXING: Birdman

VISUAL EFFECTS: Interstellar

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: American Sniper

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: Boyhood

Babette’s Feast (1987)

“Babette’s Feast” is a rather quiet film. There are no villains; there are no major conflicts between characters. Nevertheless, there is something we can learn from the quiet subtlety of this Danish drama. “Babette’s Feast” teaches that through self-sacrifice, we gain a lot more than we lose.

This theme is manifested primarily in the characters. Early in the film, it shows the two sisters Martine (Birgitte Federspiel) and Filippa (Bodil Kjer) sacrifice romantic possibilities and personal happiness in order to continue the religious ministry of their father. This can be seen as a great loss to them as they never married and sometimes you can almost argue that they are not happy. However, in their sacrifice to a religious ideal of their family they are able to form closer bonds with each other and with those that they serve in their congregation. That’s not to say that the film condones religion over love, but I think the film does promote the ideal that sacrifice is sometimes necessary when you truly devote yourself to something. Religion was very important in 19th century Denmark, as was family, and the film encompasses that ideology of the time. Through their sacrifice it is apparent that they gained more compassion and were able to show love more to those around them. This is shown when they take Babette in to be their maid and finally in the last scene where they realize how Babette has sacrificed things too.

Of course, Babette (Stephane Audran) is the main proponent of this theme. After she wins the lottery of 10,000 francs, she chooses to spend it all on a “vrai diner français” for the sisters and company. While it would be more logical to spend that money to return to her home in France, she instead spends it on the people who gave her shelter and warmth over 14 years. This provides the reward for the sister’s sacrifice in their youth in the form of a meal. It is a symbol, but I think the movie is trying to tell us that there are many simple things in life that are important to us, and sometimes good things come to those who wait. Babette, through her fiscal sacrifice, is able to express her gratitude and gain a sense of self. In that final conversation, you can see in her face that she feels content with her choices and that there was more reward in seeing those she cares about enjoy a meal and pleasant company than in selfishly returning home.

One thing I found interesting in context of this theme was the use of irony. The sisters – thinking the exotic meal to be some form of devilry – decide not to show any appreciation for the food itself for fear they will indulge in sin. I found this ironic, when you expect them to rave about the deliciousness they simply eat and quietly converse. I think the film was trying to communicate that when we do make sacrifices, the reward we gain isn’t always manifest in the way we expect. Perhaps Babette expected audible praise. But that wasn’t as important as the rekindling of relationships and the redemption of the human spirits that was shown in that meal.

Though this is a foreign film, I think the theme is universal. We are all humans and we all make sacrifices. This film helps us to remember why we sacrifice of ourselves and what can be gained because of it. It was an interesting film to think about and to reflect on, but it was still a little removed and slow. 7/10

Sometimes Less is More

When I was 13, I saw Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho” for the first time. Like many others, I loved this horror classic for its creepy intensity and fascinating psychological themes. Afterwards, my mom asked me when I thought the film was made.

“I don’t know, like 1950?”
My mom responded, “What in the film makes you feel like it’s made in the ‘50s?”
“Um, I guess because it's black and white?”
“Lauren, what year was ‘The Wizard of Oz’ made?”
To be honest, I’m feeling a little sheepish at this point, but I respond, “Like, 1960?”
My mom laughs and says, “And why do you think—“
“Because it’s in color!”
“Would it surprise you to learn that ‘The Wizard of Oz’ was made over 20 years before ‘Psycho’?”

Yes. Why yes, it would – and did – surprise me.

In this amusing exchange between my mother and myself, I started to think about film and the way it is perceived by my generation. Black and white photography, silent films, and blue screens automatically label a film as “old” and “dated.” Many may think that the black and white Holocaust movie “Schindler’s List” was made in the ‘40s or ‘50s based on its cinematography when in fact it was made in 1993. Perhaps this has something to do with the ignorance of ~some youth in the 21st century. But this skewed perception of filmmaking has less to do with ignorance and more to do with a filmmaker’s deliberate decisions to make his or her film communicate something.

Like I said, I loved “Psycho.” The more I thought about the time in which it was made, the more I thought about what a genius Alfred Hitchcock was. Besides his many innovations in the suspense genre, he understood one key thing: he didn’t need to utilize all technology to tell a story just because it was available to him. The further into the 2000s that we go, the more we lose touch with the past in the entertainment industry. It may surprise some of you to learn that “Gone with the Wind” and “The Wizard of Oz” were both released in 1939 in full color – over 75 years ago. Naturally, with the innovation of color technology it would make sense that there was no going back for most directors and they would continue moving forward in Technicolor. However, what is most fascinating about any new invention is that it does not erase what you already had available to you. In fact, with an increase of options also comes the freedom to do more with less.

In the 1950’s a stream of science fiction B-movies were released. Movies like “Creature from the Black Lagoon” or “I Married a Monster from Outer Space” are hardly remembered by today’s audiences except through the occasional parody. These movies tried to make use of all technology available to them without much thought of effective storytelling. I could compare this to Michael Bay – a name most of us are familiar with. Nowadays, because technology has advanced so much in the last 20 years, there is a lot more you can do with film and Michael Bay has a knack for manipulating CGI to create some fascinating and mesmerizing eye candy. Movies like “Transformers,” or even others like “Avatar” or “The Avengers” have some incredible special effects that make these movies fun and enjoyable. But will those movies pass the test of time like “Psycho” has been able to?

Alfred Hitchcock chose to make “Psycho” in black and white despite it becoming more obsolete in the 60’s. The Master of Suspense – as he is known – knew how to captivate an audience with this throwback cinematography – reminding everyone of the film noir that took the 40’s and 50’s by storm and creating a mood that was dark and psychologically tormenting. He didn’t need color technology. But having color technology available to him helped to tell the story better.

Even Christopher Nolan’s “Interstellar” of this past year employs a lot of great special effects to captivate the audience and engage them in an exciting ride. But what Nolan and Hitchcock have in common are their selective usage of technology and the ability to transport an audience to another time. “Interstellar” pays homage to “2001: A Space Odyssey” – the classic sci-fi opus of the 60’s and effectively brings the audience to a different mindset than usually induced by the likes of other 21st century action or science fiction films.

Many young filmgoers in today’s society may be thrown by a film deciding not to use every special effect available to them just as it would be a foreign concept for one of their peers to choose a flip phone over an iPhone. But as we learn to appreciate the filmmaker’s perspective more we can realize that with more options also comes the option to use less. And more often than not, less is more.

Boyhood (2014)

Any movie that opens with Coldplay's "Yellow," ends with Arcade Fire's "Deep Blue" and includes children going to midnight Harry Potter premieres is a movie after my heart.

I don't know if I can put into words how I felt during "Boyhood." I think a lot of my emotion is connected to being only 3 years older than Mason (Ellar Coltrane). From Britney Spears, to the Iraq War, to Obama-McCain, I'm sure I'm not alone in feeling connected to this real-time reflection of the ideals and fads of my generation. It's much like examining a time capsule. Every single pop culture reference, every toy he had was familiar to me. I remember looking through my window with my pair of yellow binoculars waiting for my dad to come home from work - and then Mason pulls out the exact same pair. My mom even wore the exact same Adidas sweat pants most of my life that Patricia Arquette sports in the beginning. I played dead man on the trampoline. I had an iPod mini and danced to Soulja Boy as a teenager. 

Personal views aside for the moment, "Boyhood" is an incredible feat. It was shot over a 12-year period from 2002-2013 depicting the adolescence of a dreamy and quietly watchful kid who grows into a young man off to college. This project is Richard Linklater's baby, the project he orchestrated but didn't force. He didn't have every detail planned out from day one and every year when the cast and crew would get together for filming, plot points were subject to change based on the previous year's filming and the growth and change of the actors. This unconventional screenwriting process could have ended up feeling incomplete and flighty. But "Boyhood" incredibly manages to capture the feeling of growing up and change with every year of Mason's life that we get to glimpse. It's fiction that is shaped by reality. It's like nothing you've ever seen.

If you look at an old family photo sometimes you feel you are transported automatically back to an event - you remember a funny story or sometimes even a painful one. Other times you look at a photo and don't remember any specific details about why it was taken, but it still fills you with some kind of emotion. "Boyhood" succeeds at depicting both types of "photographs." Think of the film as a whole like a family photo album and each scene is a different photo. We don't get to see everything that happens in the lives of the Evans family, but we get to peruse through some pretty significant images.

Sometimes there is a clear narrative. The movie begins with 6-year-old Mason, his mom Olivia (Arquette), and his bossy older sister Sam (Lorelei Linklater, the filmmaker's daughter). The family ups and moves to Houston so that Olivia can go back to college. The subsequent scenes depicting Olivia's remarriage to her professor Bill (Mark Perella), their blended family, and his turn to alcoholism and abuse are painful, though understandably formative. In this narrative, there is a scene where Bill forces Mason to cut his long hair. This and the subsequent scene where Mason voices his embarrassment to his mom so perfectly capture the essence of adolescence. Who didn't have a bad haircut experience as a kid? It was a gamble to cast Coltrane as a 5-year-old as there was no way to predict what kind of a young adult he would grow into. But he is clearly the star in the most understated way. He is charming but relatable, imperfect but sweet. This touching conversation between mother and son is not like other films where it feels forced, or where it's too witty to relate to. It feels like life.

The true beauty behind "Boyhood," however, is the ability to communicate on an emotionally complex level through the simplest of moments. We all know these type of moments and feelings. They are fleeting and you always wish you could hold on to them after they escape you. A lot of these little moments center around Mason and Sam's relationship with their dad Mason Sr. (Ethan Hawke). Despite his absence in their early childhood, he tries to make it up to them through weekend trips to the bowling alley and occasional awkward conversations about contraception. One particular scene where Mason and his dad go camping perfectly captures what I mean about this type of moment. It's a really simple scene where they bond over music and whether or not there will be another Star Wars movie (ironic). There isn't really a story, but there doesn't need to be. It's just a feeling that can be understood, not quantified. Maybe you've been on a similar camping trip. Maybe you've had a similar conversation. It's a glimpse into real life, and in these moments we realize that these characters are growing up and changing in front of our eyes.

I have never thought much of Hawke in the past. However, he superbly plays the dad character without being too over the top on the "cool-dad" scale. He's a guy with some baggage and he's not always the best dad around, but he tries to make every moment he spends with his kids count. We watch him grow up and mature just as much as we watch his son grow up. The same goes for Arquette, whose acting hasn't impressed me much in the past either. She also proved me wrong and is a lovely presence on the screen. She feels like a real mom who loves and cares for her kids, you know? 

Even with the remarkable acting, this movie would be nothing without Richard Linklater. His directing is revolutionary. He knows how to take such a simple story where nothing much happens, lets it span over 12 years (and a 165 minute running time) and leaves us with a masterpiece. Mason's story is our story. It doesn't matter if we don't love art or if our parents aren't divorced. It's a life that we recognize. It's full of little things and the occasional big thing. I think Linklater's main message here is that life is precious and "Boyhood" made me want to live more. 10/10

New York Doll (2005)

There is a misconception about documentaries. So many think that they must be boring, lacking a narrative, and only intended for a specific demographic. I must admit, I have shared this opinion as well and have not exposed myself to that many documentaries. But after watching “New York Doll” I can say that though they may be narrowly tailored and less focused on story – they are no less capable of reaching our heart than any fiction story.

Simply put, “New York Doll” is a delight. I mainly attribute its success to the emotionally driven depiction of our main character Arthur “Killer” Kane. Director Greg Whiteley effectively implements the talking head technique to let the audience get to know Arthur. The documentary starts with the camera following Arthur dressed in a white shirt and tie on his way to the Mormon temple. He mentions how his lifestyle has changed from the “instant sex wham bam thank you ma’am kind of stuff” of his rock star glory days to the devoted church-going days of today. The documentary includes a lot of screen time from Arthur and we get a chance to hear his story directly from him. As he describes his life it is endearing to watch him talk about his life changes. It is apparent how much his newfound purpose in religion means to him after his attempted suicide.

This being juxtaposed with footage of the history of the New York Dolls also supports our desire for Arthur to succeed. Many different band members from different rock groups of the same era were interviewed and provide the voice over narration describing the Dolls’ struggle with drugs, alcoholism, and the death of several members. Those interviews help deliver the voice of authority to convince us that Arthur was in need of a life change. One even mentions that the Dolls’ image was “disturbing to a lot of people.” To add to this, despite the good run that the Dolls went on as a band, it is clear in the footage that Arthur was a man hardened by drugs and a demanding lifestyle.

The bulk of the documentary, however, focuses on Arthur’s subsequent conversion to Mormonism and the reunion tour in London. Arthur is a man we want to root for and it is really neat to watch him stand up to his former band-mates and discuss his standards. The documentary depicts him as a man who has found new strength and a new purpose. I think this is an example of exalting the everyday –not because we have been in a rock band, but because we have had struggles to overcome. We root for Arthur because we want him to be happy and we know what it’s like to hit rock bottom – even if our rock bottom is different.

“New York Doll” is a documentary after our hearts. It’s the lovely depiction of a man we can connect with and helps us to chase after our own needed life changes. 8/10

Big Eyes (2014)

I am way too much of a feminist to calmly sit through this movie.

After packing up and leaving an abusive relationship, Margaret (Amy Adams) hopes to make a living off of her rather strange paintings of children with largely proportionate eyes in San Francisco. She soon marries Walter Keane (Christoph Waltz) - a sophisticated, charming businessman and occasional painter - who is eager to help her get her art off the ground. It's hard to sell art as a woman (apparently) so the two of them team up and gain some notoriety while selling the paintings under his name.

I loved that this was a throwback to old school Tim Burton. I felt like I was watching "Edward Scissorhands" - not only because the colorful houses and camera angles were reminiscent of the Scissorhands feel, but because Burton played more off of character rather than style. His later work, though I enjoy the quirkiness and weirdness, is much more driven by his artistic eye rather than empathetic characters. That is where "Big Eyes" is different and succeeds: it makes us feel stuff. Obviously Burton wanted us to empathize with the situation and seriously I haven't been so pissed at a movie screen since... Actually, I don't know if I've ever been this pissed at a movie. It really is quite the accomplishment to get the audience to feel that much empathy and anger towards a situation.

However, there's a lot that didn't work. This can mostly be divided into two main parts.

WALTER:
The second he walks onto the screen you aren't fooled. You know he's a dick, and you know he's trouble. He is a... a snake charmer! He coyly eyes Margaret's paintings and compliments her art but you see behind that twitchy smile and overly gregarious laugh. He's charming in a psychopathic way. There's hardly a question of why she chose to stay but rather why did she choose to go with him in the first place? In every other situation where there's an unhealthy relationship involved - be it in real life or in film - there is always something addicting, something to keep you there. From the get go with this relationship, you see no viable reason why she would desire him in her life. He just flat out isn't likable.

Though Christoph Walz tends to play dislikable characters, I have been impressed with his previous roles - particularly in "Inglourious Basterds." In "Big Eyes" I hated his character, but this wasn't even the "love to hate" kind of hate. His portrayal was distracting. He was so terribly over the top that it drew away all attention from Amy Adams' character. Perhaps this was intentional, but I found it annoying rather than functional.

Yes, I was disgusted, yes I hated him with a fiery passion, but I know that I'm the voyeur watching this through rose colored glasses. But are there really no other people in the movie that notice or point out what a dick he is? Not the NYT reporter? Not Margaret's sister? Not Margaret? It seems that his erratic behavior is reflective of the actual Walter Keane, but it's a little much. In the Court room scene at the end, despite the funny judge, I was just embarrassed. How is this even possible? PEOPLE DON'T ACT THIS WAY.

Another side complaint: there is no concept of time at ALL throughout the movie. She picks up and leaves Tennessee, lands in San Francisco a day later? A week? A month? Meets Walter a day later? A week? A month? Gets married three days later? Two weeks? Two months? You know time is passing through Amy Adam's hair change and when little girl actress becomes different teenager actress, but it's hard to get any bearings on the story which was a serious drawback.



MARGARET:
I'm trying reeeeeeeeeally hard to keep my 21st century mind in her seat, but the feminist in me is really freaking out. Man, it was so nauseating. But there is something completely missing from Margaret's character. Amy Adams is an incredibly talented actress. Her eyes can well up without crying, she embodies a character with completeness. But I didn't connect with her emotionally like I really, really wanted to. I felt awful about the situation, I hurt inside that such misogynistic behavior actually existed. But how can I support a character who is so submissive to everything? I'm trying to keep things in their place, and I know it's supposed to capture a different era where women didn't leave their husbands and women didn't assert themselves. But MAN. At the beginning of the movie, she makes a spiel about always being a daughter and a wife and a mother but never her. And I feel like... I still never saw her.

That being said, the point, I'm sure, is that the only outlet for her to be HER is in her art. As she states herself, the eyes are the window to the soul. But there is still no moment, no scene, no dialogue that shows her own emotional connection to her art. In fact, there are hardly any scenes where she is by herself. The only scene where any sort of connection can be felt is in her 15-second-moment with her self portrait. All I really wanted was some kind of speech where she, I don't know, BROKE DOWN or something. I wanted her to scream from the rooftops "These are MY paintings. They mean everything to me because they are my soul. I am a broken woman and the only way I communicate anymore is through these big eyes that you self-fulfilling bastard have taken credit for." I wanted to feel her passion! I wanted to see her like she paints herself. I loved how the paintings told a story by each child getting sadder, but you hardly saw HER change (besides her hair).

Seriously, I just needed something that told me that she was alive. That she was a strong woman. That she was a fighter. I think I was particularly dissatisfied with that because she showed strength in the very first scene where she takes her daughter and leaves for a new life. And she never seems remotely dissatisfied with the fact that she has removed herself so fully from that new life that she set out for herself.

The closing lines for the film are "She loved her daughter and her art and in the end she got both." Another thing that I wanted to feel but simply couldn't has to do with the relationship between that little brainwashed daughter and Margaret. There's no need for me to complain at the obvious improbability that she wouldn't remember her mom painting, but that too was bothersome. Mostly, though, Margaret hardly shows any love for her daughter. She feels guilty for lying, but no motherly care or concern. And man, that child is scarily obedient.

There is something to be said for feeling THIS strongly after watching a movie. But in the end even Jason Schwartzman cameos couldn't help me be satisfied and I don't think I can watch this again any time soon. 5/10

American Sniper (2014)

I have long been a fan of Clint Eastwood's directorial work. Coincidentally, I watched "American Sniper" in the same month that I watched "The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly," "Unforgiven," and "Mystic River" and I'm glad I did. I had been dissatisfied with some of his more recent movies and going back to some of his older ones helped remind me of Eastwood's incredible talent to work with material of epic proportions. Though "American Sniper" isn't without flaws, it is definitely Eastwood's best effort since Gran Torino in 2008.

This is the story of Chris Kyle - the deadliest marksman in US Military history accumulating roughly 160 kills. The film depicts his 4 tours in Iraq, his marriage, and his bouts with PTSD. There will always be movies about the Chris Kyles of the world and there will always be debates on whether they were heroes or not. Some were, some weren't. "American Sniper" is an interesting mix of glorifying the kills and actually delving into the mind of the soldier. For the most part, Eastwood smartly succeeds at not overdoing the former scenario. Yes, he paints an ugly picture of war, and yes the violence is hard to stomach at times. But he does a decent job of commending the heroism while also drawing attention to the problems of the heinous acts of violence that led to problems in Kyle's life.

Of course, this brings us all to the realization of what a comfortable bubble we live in. Maybe that's the point of any war movie, who knows. The most moving part of the entire film was the chilling silence that fell over the theater as the credits rolled. No one spoke as we exited the building. I couldn't help but think about all the little things I complain about on a daily basis. Mostly slow internet connections and the fact that my shampoo and conditioner never run out at the same time. You can't watch a movie like this and expect to un-see all the terrible things that happen without our awareness. I'm not even close to pointing fingers, but there is a fine line between defending your country, defending another man, and simply doing things out of hatred. There's no denying the dialogue depicts some foul-languaged hatred alongside the violence.

I can't talk about that without following it up with some well-earned gratitude. I'm glad I live in a country where I am free to complain about my shampoo running out sooner than my conditioner. I can't begin to understand what horrors soldiers face daily. I cringed at several parts and it made me hyperaware of what I take for granted. I know I don't think about my freedom in Murica often enough.

"American Sniper" also teaches us how real PTSD is. I have only had a little experience with this - I've got a buddy who I've seen go through similar experiences and I know it's rough. And very real. There's a lot going on here that deals with Chris Kyle's difficult transitions to home life between tours. It gets worse throughout the film, but it doesn't manifest itself much in anger or nightmares but just in apathy and numbness. It's like whatever Kyle doesn't feel, we feel on his behalf and man, do we want things to work out better for him. He finds a purpose in protecting his team and America. He lacks a similar driving purpose at home. I think it's good for us to be aware of how much these soldiers sacrifice - and Eastwood intelligently let's Kyle's life story develop itself in a natural way.

Early in the movie, 10-year-old Chris's father tells him that there are three types of people: sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. He told the young Chris that he would fall into the third category - the sheepdog who ensures that predators don't eat the innocent. With that metaphor in mind, we can appreciate this decorated seal's scope view on some compromising and intense situations. I can't really say that Bradley Cooper delivers a breakthrough performance because he had already established himself as an actor we can stand behind and respect. However, there was something even more moving about his portrayal than I had seen before. He doesn't just mimic, he becomes and connects. The other supporting performances (particularly Sienna Miller as his wife) - though good - are mostly just background noise.

It's easy with these biopics to point out all the discrepancies between the on-screen depiction and the real subject. With a little help from Wikipedia everyone is ready to point fingers at the omissions in the plot and Kyle's character. But I'm willing to look past all of that. People and critics sometimes forget that their job is to analyze what "American Sniper" offers as a movie. And as a movie, though a little on-the-fence with what message it wants to send out, it does its job.

Clint Eastwood knows the formula to deliver a typical Oscar contender. It is definitely worthy of praise, but I would have liked to see a little more catharsis and redemption with Chris Kyle's character in the end (I'm not sure I agree with the notion that PTSD can be recovered from in a matter of months and acts of good will) and nothing quite took away the encroaching sadness of this great and terrible movie. 7/10

Gone Girl (2014)

Gillian Flynn's 2012 mystery novel is masterfully intricate and deeply layered. It turns out Flynn is just as talented at writing for the screen as she is writing novels and she and director David Fincher (both with an apparent predilection for dark mysteries) team up to create this delightfully haunting adaption. Similarly to my experience with previous Fincher films, I was floored. And really concerned for my safety on my drive home. And had me rethinking my life plan to ever get married.

On the day of his fifth wedding anniversary, Nick Dunne's wife Amy (Ben Affleck & Rosamund Pike) goes missing. Her disappearance triggers a lot of press coverage and the further the police investigate the more suspicious details are uncovered. Police investigators (lead by the beautifully understated Kim Dickens) try to remain objective but soon the evidence all seems to point to Nick. His awkward camera behavior doesn't help his image and soon enough the public as well as the police are turned against him. This creates an interesting view into how the public's perception of a story can influence the way it unfolds. No one ever openly suggests that Nick has any hand in her disappearance until the pressure amounts to such that Nick counters, "I did not kill my wife." Whatever reserved suspicion I had at the beginning of the movie towards Nick turns up to full capacity with that quip. But ultimately his conduct - though shady - is not what garners the audience's suspicion, but the way the press perceives and interprets his conduct.

Amy is still a recurring presence throughout the movie as the narrative of the investigation is juxtaposed with flashbacks via Amy's diary entries. Amy narrates us through significant milestones in their romance and the beginnings of an unraveling marriage. For a character who is supposed to be missing, Amy is still very much a part of this story. It's her story that she is passive-aggressively orchestrating. With every new flash back, this dark and sexy mystery gets even more complicated. It's a storybook romance (complete with sugar-kisses) that crashes and burns and gets crazy in the worst possible way. Happily ever after turns sinister when *spoilers* "Amazing Amy" goes from doe-eyed princess to a manipulative sociopath.

I've got to say that I have never thought much of Rosamund Pike in the past, but she is absolutely phenomenal in this role. "Gone Girl" is so fun because it's full of surprises. I'll talk about Fincher's hand in this later, but Amy's character arc is the main feature on this crazy ride. Pike embodies this fascinating and jawdropping-ly manipulative character with a commanding and powerful air. Her eyes tell the story, but even her eyes conceal some amount of the truth. Nothing she says can be taken at face value and you don't realize it until she's driving down the highway tossing pens out the window. Her conduct is appalling, unbelievable and unpredictable in the most unsettling way. This type of erratic behavior is hard to capture on screen but Pike does so without flaw and with a disturbing realism. It's not very often where I don't spot a twist that significant coming, and Pike certainly deserves an Oscar nom for her sick manipulation of the characters and the audience.

Of course, this is no unfamiliar territory to the director of "Fight Club," "Zodiac" and "The Girl with a Dragon Tattoo." When I go into a Fincher movie I have come to expect to walk out feeling like I have just been on a roller coaster ride. I mean this mentally and emotionally but also physically. "Gone Girl" pushed this idea to new extremes as I exited the theater feeling actually nauseous - it was that unsettling. Part of this comes from my already building fear of marriage and I would be lying if I said it didn't totally freak me out that you could know someone for over 5 years and still not know that they are psychotic. But it's not just the idea that is creepy, it's the tone, the dark cinematography and the unnerving music that chilled me to the very core.

On another note, the casting choices were impeccable. Though Rosamund Pike's performance is the stand out, every other pick was spot on. This is by far my favorite Ben Affleck role and he delivers in such a way as to invoke both suspicion and sympathy. His careful, subdued performance is a good complement for Pike. Other stand out performances include Carrie Coon as Nick's loyal sister, Neil Patrick Harris as Amy's stalker ex Desi (should have taken Barney Stinson's advice on the crazy/hot scale) and Tyler Perry as Nick's lawyer. Perry is certainly the most surprising casting choice, but he is a treat to watch.

Just when you think the craziness must be over, the end throws you for a final loop (again with the nausea thing - and really it feels like our roller coaster ride reached an unfinished track and we were jettisoned off the side to crash). As unhappy as the end is, and though the catharsis seems little and dissatisfying, I can't picture it ending any differently. "Gone Girl" gave me what I expected and more, with every scene and every new character introduced I was thrown for a loop and I couldn't help but think that Fincher was having the time of his life keeping us guessing. I cannot remember a time where I have finished a movie feeling so disturbed - yet I still wanted more. And there's something to be said for that. 9/10