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

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? (1967)

"Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" is, simply put, the story of two families overcoming their concerns of an interracial marriage in one single evening. It's certainly a drama. And yet the situation provides for undeniable comedic opportunities. Disregarding whatever genre it may be, Stanley Kramer's iconic film is a celebration of two of Hollywood's greatest stars.

When Joanna "Joey" Drayton (Katharine Houghton) comes home from her two-week vacation with the handsome, successful - and black - Doctor John Prentice (Sidney Poitier) on her arm, the engagement is met with mixed reactions. To the viewer in the 21st century, this match seems clearly promising. He's rich, they're in love, what's the big deal? However, in 1960's San Francisco, even to a liberal family this kind of news is met with some shock.

Joey's mother Christina (Katharine Hepburn) takes the news rather well after the initial surprise. With a shaky "pleased to meet you" and a wide-eyed glance at the camera, she recovers quickly after taking a minute to sit down and eagerly supports Joey's decision. This is a stark contrast to the "what the hell is going on here?" response from Mr. Drayton (Spencer Tracy).

Kramer intentionally designed Poitier's character to be so perfect and upstanding that the only possible reason to object to the marriage would be on the issue of race. And it is so easy to love Poitier. His charming demeanor, perfect smile and chivalrous character are enchanting. (As an aside, it is unbelievable that he was not nominated for this nor "In the Heat of the Night" that same year). However, it's almost as if the plot is structured like a trifle cake. With each layer, the situation becomes even more absurd and finally the absurdity overflows. Even disregarding the laughable length of their 10-day courtship (though this didn't actually bother me - I'm a Mormon and I see that all the time with my peers), the absurdity reaches its limit when the two lovebirds place a deadline on the two shocked parents. Not only do they wish approval for the engagement, but they demand approval before their 10 pm flight to Geneva. Really? You can't give them a week? A day, even?

To add to the overflow, Joey invites John's parents (Beah Richards & Roy Glenn) to join for dinner. Besides my growing dislike for the crazy situation, the scenes involving John and his parents - particularly his father - were especially bothersome. The idea that is presented in John's conversations with his father and with Joey's is that this isn't about race but about pride. It's an issue that would be interesting to explore, but sadly is manipulatively executed. The dialogue is poorly constructed and accusatorially delivered. I would have liked to have seen this film more à la style of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" which was also centered around a dinner. What "Woolf" has that "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" lacks is a building character tension driven by their interactions. The tension present in Kramer's film is manipulative and driven by absurd plot details rather than the dialogue and lacks the character development and the wit. I applaud the film's bravery for addressing a then controversial issue, but it would have been better without the artificiality behind the plot constraints.

My last complaint for this already flawed movie is in Joey's character. Perhaps it's a cop-out to label the pretty blonde as annoying but is anyone else with me on this? It's hard to stomach her high pitched voice and entitled attitude for two hours. Katharine Houghton is beautiful to be sure but her performance is too bubbly and overwhelming. I give it 2 weeks in Geneva before the distinguished Dr. Prentice ditches her.

As I stated earlier, this film is much more than a discussion on racial stereotypes. It's all about the nostalgia for two beloved stars. This is the ninth and final pairing for Hepburn and Tracy. In fact, the filming for "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" ended just 17 days before Tracy's death. It has been noted that Hepburn refused to see the final cut because it was too emotional for her (I'm going to pretend like I understand their "partnership" but really I don't. 27-year affair? Good friends?) I have tried for years to like Katharine Hepburn, and though I can find nothing faulty about her performances, there is simply something about her overdramatic portrayals that rub me the wrong way. I don't like the way she talks and I don't like that she won an Oscar for this when Anne Bancroft clearly should have won for "The Graduate."

Besides Sidney Poitier's enjoyable performance, the main attraction is clearly Spencer Tracy. I've seen a lot of Tracy's early work including his Oscar-winning performances in "Boy's Town" and "Captains Courageous." What has struck me about Tracy is the instant credibility he brings to the screen. His open countenance and striking eyes invite the audience to trust him. His performance as Matthew Drayton is no different. I felt connected to his character while he mulled over his looming decision while eating Fresh Oregon Boysenberry Sherbet at the local drive thru. Of course his performance is made more poignant with his death, and when he delivers his moving speech at the close of the film, you can't help but believe him.

Unfortunately despite my love for these two great actors, this movie is simply too unbelievable for me to truly enjoy it. 5/10

Other notes:
Directed by Stanley Kramer
Won Academy Awards for Best Actress (Katharine Hepburn), and Best Writing Original Story and was nominated for Best Picture, Best Actor (Spencer Tracy), Best Supporting Actor (Cecil Kellaway), Best Supporting Actress (Beah Richards), Best Director (Stanley Kramer), Best Art Direction, Best Film Editing, and Best Music
It was ranked #99 in AFI's Top 100 Years... 100 Films list in 1998

Birdman (2014)

It's quirky as hell, but the phenomenal acting performances keep it afloat.

We are first introduced to washed up actor Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) sitting cross-legged in midair in his tighty-whities. The voice of Birdman - the action hero he is famous for playing - is taunting him, the voice seemingly coming from a movie poster. No, it doesn't make sense but this unnatural power his former alter ego holds over him is a recurring theme throughout Riggan's story arc. Riggan has decided to try and reinvent his career by adapting, directing, and starring in Raymond Carver's play "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love." Replace Riggan with Michael and Birdman with Batman and you have the fictionalized version of Michael Keaton's story. I kept thinking to myself, "you know, this movie is a little weird... but good for Michael Keaton!"

We're thinking the same thing about Riggan's character. It seems the gods are against him and the play hits several bumps on its way to production. Mid rehearsal the main actor is hit on the head and hospitalized leaving Riggan without a lead. Another cast member Lesley (Naomi Watts) suggests famous method actor Mike Shiner (Edward Norton). When Shiner joins the cast, it appears he is just as difficult to get along with as Norton himself. He has undeniable acting pizazz when he feels like it, but can be quite the downer when he doesn't. This provides for many entertaining scenes between Mike and Riggan while we reach the heart of Mike's character in his exchanges with Riggan's daughter Sam (Emma Stone) who has been recently released from rehab. In fact, these simple conversations and truth or dare games are more touching than anything else we feel from the other characters. These were the scenes where I actually felt connected to what was happening on the screen. Sadly, there wasn't quite enough Norton and Stone to go around and I don't know if I ever fully invested myself into the plot on the emotional level I wanted to.

I really want to like this movie. But I'll be honest, I feel like I must be missing something major because there are so many little pieces to this work that I love. I mean, you've got great supporting performances from Zach Galifanakis, Andrea Riseborough, and Amy Ryan, you've got a talented director Alejandro González Iñárritu to brew up a perfect mixture of comedy, and tragedy (a lighter side compared to his "Biutiful" or "Babel"), and you get to see Michael Keaton walk around in his underwear. So maybe I just don't get it the way I'm supposed to?

Where "Birdman" did manage to sweep me away was with its mesmerizing camerawork. I haven't seen anything like that since Alfred Hitchcock's "Rope"(which was filmed in ten 10-minute long takes). I felt like the voyeur spying on these actors' lives and following them around while they take care of their business. Though the tracking camera felt intrusive and somewhat pervading, it was a fun and different experience to feel like I was actually there.

This, however, was the only thing special thing about "Birdman." As much as I can appreciate its quirks and its phenomenal acting, there is still something that falls short for me to consider it more than an overhyped and overpraised art film. 6/10

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1 (2014)

"Are you, are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of hope, side by side with me. Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be if we met at midnight in the hanging tree."

The next installment of the Hunger Games series takes place shortly after "Catching Fire" and a rebellion against the Capitol is in full swing. Our hero, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), is finally given a chance to catch her breath after the exhilarating events surrounding the Quarter Quell. She is reunited with her mother (Paula Malcomson), her sister Prim (Willow Shields) and best friend Gale (Liam Hemsworth) in District 13 - the secret, underground territory and headquarters for the rebellion. Now, however reluctant and emotionally broken she may feel, Katniss is poised to be the face for the rebellion. Their "Mockingjay." 

Without a Hunger Games, "Mockingjay" is a step outside of the usual formula for this dystopian series. But that doesn't mean that the games are finished for Katniss. As the symbol for the rebellion she must play her role to satisfaction for the new "game makers": Plutarch Heavensby (the late Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Alma Coin (Julianne Moore). It's almost a throwback to the first games where we got to watch Seneca Crane make all the moves to stage the perfect Hunger Games. Now we watch these two masterminds behind the rebellion stage (and film) the perfect scene of Katniss at the battlefront for the perfect propaganda. 

Like all games, there are two sides. Everything on the opposing side is strategized and orchestrated by the nefarious President Snow (Donald Sutherland). His strategy, though, is much more personal. His reactions to the rebellion's blows are concentrated on more specific targets. He knows that if he can demoralize the Mockingjay then the rebellion will be defenseless against his final check mate. Just as Plutarch and Coin are using Katniss, Snow has his own weapon: Katniss' Hunger Games counterpart Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson). Katniss might have been confused about her feelings for Peeta before, but those feelings seem to be much more apparent as she watches Peeta's bruised face on the TV denounce the rebellion. The games go on, and the games affect Katniss more. The PTSD is real and through terrible shocks of a destroyed home, a tortured Peeta and hellish nightmares Katniss becomes more broken.

"Mockingjay" is the deepest of the three movies. I believe most people would agree that the third book is the weakest of the trilogy, but director Francis Lawrence manages to faithfully stick to the source material while enhancing on the emotion. It's an adaptation that everyone can be happy with. One scene particularly stood out to me as one of the most feels-inducing, if you will. While Katniss is visiting District 8 with Gale and her film crew, hoping to deliver some hope to the hopeless, the Capitol retaliates to the Mockingjay sighting by blowing up a hospital full of innocent, wounded people. PTSD or not, Katniss can still perform under pressure and she won't go down before whipping out her bow and arrow and shooting down a PLANE. Action aside, what is emotionally stirring about this scene is Katniss' subsequent powerful punch to Snow on camera. "If we burn, you burn with us."

Let's be honest. This would be nothing without Jennifer Lawrence. Katniss is portrayed so genuinely and honestly. You watch her work in these films and it's no question how Lawrence has shot to the top so quickly in movie stardom. She is the girl on fire, but she brings something bigger to the table in this film. Even the subtle scenes - like thumbing Peeta's pearl to calm her anxiety - show her emotional depth. She is never over the top (a drawback in the source material, which was written in first person), her outbursts in anger are natural for the broken hero. I believe the scene featuring her singing of "The Hanging Tree" perfectly culminates Lawrence's ability to emotionally reach out to an audience, I certainly know I was moved. Just as the rebellion was nothing without the Mockingjay, the movies are nothing without her either.

The supporting performances are equally as impressive. I must admit, it was a little heartbreaking to watch Hoffman and realize that we will never be surprised by him again. Woody Harrelson as Haymitch and Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket also deliver in their small but key roles. Donald Sutherland portrays Snow with such subtle cruelty and, man, are we excited for his comeuppance. Stanley Tucci, though no more than a cameo, is still a pleasant face in a dark world. Julianne Moore, however, is the greatest addition to his already stellar cast. With her Cruella de Ville-like locks and her calculating but sympathetic eyes she is the perfect face for the rebellion's leader. Lawrence may be the star, but this isn't all her show.

The ending is rather abrupt as Hollywood once again exploits a franchise' success by splitting a 390 page novel into two movies. Like, seriously. It was ridiculous with "Twilight" and even more ridiculous with "The Hobbit." However, despite the abrupt ending (and rather cruel tease), I actually agreed with this decision for the first time. The novel is a confusing mix of an emotionally driven first half to an action packed second act. It would have been a rushed, confusing mix as a movie, too. Splitting it into two movies allows for the audience to compartmentalize those emotions and no doubt "Mockingjay: Part 2" will bring this series to a satisfying conclusion next year.

It may be nothing more than a set up, but Mockingjay: Part 1 still delivers an emotionally stirring transition to the conclusion of The Hunger Games series. 8/10

Stand By Me (1986)

"Do you guys want to go see a dead body?" Everyone stopped. It's the summer of 1959 in Castlerock, Oregon and a local boy has gone missing. 12-year-old Vern (Jerry O'Donnell), overweight, timid and bullied, approaches his three friends Gordie, Chris, and Teddy with the proposal for the ultimate summer adventure to find the body and collect the reward. Rob Reiner's adaptation of Stephen King's novella "The Body" exquisitely captures the vulnerability of youth and the heart of true friendship in this simple yet sweeping story.

This troubled but carefree band of brothers rely on each other through summer days with contraband cigarettes in their treehouse for a home. Our narrator Gordie (Wil Wheaton) is coping after the recent death of his older brother and subsequent neglect at home. Teddy (Corey Feldman) nearly had his ear burned off by his father who is now confined to a mental institution. Chris (River Phoenix) is beaten by his alcoholic dad and regularly stereotyped as a criminal. These boys are there for each other through the deep stuff that troubles youth but doesn't screw them up enough to ruin summer fun just yet. They set off with backpacks, Cokes, and Converse shoes and through episodes with leeches in the river, close calls with trains, and quintessential stories by the campfire, these boys are brought closer together like nothing but shared experience of searching for a dead body can. This is more than band camp.

Everything is just so incredibly real. These kids are at the bridge between boyhood and maturation. They talk about the greater issues of life, "Hey guys! What animal IS Goofy anyway?""You think Mighty Mouse could beat up Superman?" in the poignant campfire scene. But though they laugh at the hysterical tale of "Lardass" anyone can see that the true issues of family instability and uncertain futures plague over them. I've never been a 12-year-old boy, but I can still relate to many of their pre-teen ideals. I remember what it was like to bury real pain and shake off real issues with fantasy games with my friends. (On that note - why is that that there are no stories about groups of girls? Just a thought).

River Phoenix has never acted this great, and the scene between Chris and Gordie stands as a defining moment not just for the climax of the movie, but for all of childhood. Maybe you didn't have a friend like that, but you certainly wanted one. He is the rock of the group and knows how to calm fears and invoke courage in one conversation. The heart of this movie are the characters and Reiner nailed it with his acting picks. These kids can handle heavy scenes like pros. Will Wheaton's delivery is neither forced nor contrived but is still deliberate and emotional. His excellent acting is coupled with one of Kiefer Sutherland's better performances as the local bully, Ace. 

Ace: "What are you gonna do? Shoot us all?"

Gordie: "No, Ace. Just you."

With characters we can fall in love with, a script that is sharp, raw, & realistic, and cameos from Richard Dreyfuss and John Cusack you have yourself a movie that will stay with you. Honestly, I don't know what it is about it that gets me every time. It's been nearly six years since I saw it for the first time and there is something timeless about it that touches me and has resonated with me. Maybe it's the nostalgic music. Maybe it's because it reminds me of summer. Stand By Me can rest with the likes of To Kill a Mockingbird and The Man in the Moon as one of the greatest and most timeless coming of age stories around. I am a sucker for these poignant stories bc THE FEELS. And every time I watch it, I am reminded of the friends with whom I've shared something. 9/10

"I never had any friends later on like the ones when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?" 

Inception (2010)

I will always remember the first time I saw Inception. Because I was living in Tahiti when it came out I wasn't able to see it right away (unless I wanted to hear a francophone Leo which I'm not really into). I was geeking out for WEEKS leading up to its release nonetheless and doing everything I could to avoid the internets. I would talk to my friends on the phone and the second the conversation turned to the great new Christopher Nolan flick I'd shout "STAHHHHP!!!" and then their eardrums broke. I lost friends. I take spoilers verrrrrry seriously.

I saw it within a week of being home. Three times. I remember eating Red Robin with two of my guy friends and not having two seconds to eat my onion rings because we couldn't shut up about whether or not the top was still spinning or whether it was wobbling. (Kinda sad I couldn't have enjoyed those onion rings more). But I was just so mind-blown. I had endless discussions about the ending, the music, the buildings folding on top of other buildings, how beautiful Joseph Gordon Levitt and Tom Hardy are, and the fact that THERE'S A ZERO-GRAVITY FIGHT SCENE. Those conversations didn't stop for weeks.

Where Following is Memento's father, Inception is Memento's son. Inception borrows elements from both films and marks Nolan's first original film since Following. I mention these connections because I have not been so floored by a movie since seeing the 1998 & 2001 predecessors. Though Inception is more impressive on a visual scale than Memento, we are still thrown for loops and twists in the narrative (albeit linearly this time). Memento is a puzzle built on polaroids and tattoos. Inception is a maze in a much more literal sense. The very buildup of the dreams in Inception is a labyrinth mirroring the maze that we the audience must navigate. Most of the time we're disoriented and confused, so we just have to trust that Nolan knows what he's doing and that we'll make it out safely. He didn't lead us astray in Memento, so we're confident it'll all make sense in the end this time, too.

Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is a thief (another nod to Following). His burglarizing territory, though, is not homes, offices, or computers. He specializes in breaking into the mind stealing secrets from high executives and business tycoons in their sleep. His skills make him a coveted player in this new game of corporate espionage. After a mission seemingly gone wrong, Cobb and his partner Arthur (Joseph Gordon Levitt) are approached with a risky job of a different nature by a wealthy Japanese businessman named Saito (Ken Watanabe). Instead of asking them to extract an idea, he asks them to plant one. His target is the heir to a rival company, Robert Fischer (Cillian Murphy). If all goes well, Fischer will wake up from a dream and decide on his own to dissolve his father's company.

It appears, though, that inception - the plantation process, not the movie title - is harder to pull off than their run-of-the-mill extraction jobs. "Don't think about elephants. What are you thinking about?" "Elephants." Arthur explains, "Right, but it's not your idea. The dreamer can always remember the genesis of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake." "No it's not," Cobb disagrees. He doesn't go into detail, but he knows it's possible because he's done it before. Despite the imminent risks, the stakes are high for Dom. He is less motivated by the excitement and intriguing concept of "inception" and more by Saito's promise to let Cobb walk away from the business and return home to his kids. Dom, after all, means "home" in most Slavic languages. DiCaprio plays Cobb similarly to his performance of Teddy Daniels in Shutter Island. Both are driven to obsession over loss and guilt (more on that later) and Leo can deliver in that type of role

So in true classic heist movie fashion, Cobb assembles his team to get the job done. Along with right hand man Arthur we have Eames (Tom Hardy), the "forger", shape shifter, and scruffy badass (associated with Ray & Charles Eames - famous architects), Yusuf (Dileep Rao) the sedative-concocting chemist (think Joseph - biblical dream interpreter to add to the name-tally), and Ariadne (Ellen Page) the maze-building architect wiz. Cobb is introduced to Ariadne by his father-in-law Miles (Michael Caine) who seems to know the ropes of the dream-invading course but doesn't run it anymore. It's just one of those things where Michael Caine appears on screen and you automatically assume he is wiser than anyone else and he definitely knew what he was doing when he brought the new girl on.

Cobb shows Ariadne just how limitless her power is in dreamland. We learn right along with her that physics and gravity no longer matter and architectural paradoxes are now possible. This is where all of the special effects eye candy happen and we're not disappointed by the grandeur and dazzling impossibilities. Not only does Ariadne build the mazes, she is the guide. Just like Ariadne the daughter of King Minos helped guide Theseus through Minotaur's labyrinth, she guides the characters and the audience through the maze of Inception and Fischer's brain. (More name significance, guys). Ellen Page portrays her with just as much realism and intelligence as she did the lead character in Juno three years earlier. We trust her like Cobb trusts her and her character is cleverly devised to enlighten us in this unfamiliar subliminal territory.

As an aside to that thought, let me give a plug to Nolan's storytelling genius, here. It is brought to our attention that we never really remember the beginning of our dreams - we always end up in the middle of the action. Holding to that idea, Inception is much more about process than about beginnings. Of course the idea behind dream invasion is foreign to our concept of reality. But the origins to the dream-sharing don't matter. During Ariadne's apprenticeship, we are provided with just enough detail to keep us satisfied, but ultimately we are enveloped in the process of this dream-world, not with how it came to be.

I digress.

Though special effects and visual bravado trump emotion in the story arc, the one relationship we are invested in is that between Cobb and his late wife Mal (enchantingly played by Marion Cotillard). Though Cobb is, like, on the run, forbidden to return to the US on charges for her murder. It's complicated. Mal is by far the most interesting character of the bunch. We get to know her as she haunts Cobb's dreams and the dreams he shares with others sabotaging their missions along the way. We feel invaded by her piercing gaze, enchanted by her curly bob and French accent, and haunted by the way she thumbs that knife. Her character is so complex and deeply layered that we connect to her internal conflict better than any of the other comparatively thinly-written characters. Cobb is driven to near insanity with guilt and grief over her death and his intense love for his unstable wife. If we're going to keep going with the whole name thing then "Mal" is "bad" in French which unmistakably reflects on her infecting presence in the dreams.

Also noteworthy is Marion Cotillard's connection to Edith Pilaf's song "Non je ne regrette rien" - a fun little inside joke with that key plot device.

Since it is so difficult to plant an idea without the dreamer detecting its origins and since Mal is making it her business to sabotage Cobb's missions they need to delve deep into the subconscious. A dream within a dream within a dream, if you will. Everything comes to a climax in the dream-sequence that spans over an hour of screen time. Fischer's name is no doubt a nod to the game of mind-chess that is going down in his psyche and each character needs to carefully strategize to get the check mate at precisely the right time. Regret, loss, obsession, and redemption are important themes intertwined with the intense action sequences jam packed with special effects. It's visually enthralling, mind-bending, confusing, and moving all at the same time. The more I write, the less sense it makes. It really is something that should be experienced.

That end, tho.

I won't get into it too much. Just like the beginning matters less than the process, the end is the same. Some argue that it was all a dream. Indeed, the audience doesn't have a totem like the characters do to distinguish reality and dreams and are therefore never clearly able to identify a given scene as reality. This would explain why the other characters are flat since they're only projections of Cobb's subconscious and it would also negate most plot holes. It's a compelling theory, but ultimately I am of the camp that there was some reality and that Cobb is not dreaming right before the credits roll (the he wasn't wearing his wedding ring, the kids are older, the top was definitely wobbling camp). Why? I don't know, maybe because I would like to think that Cobb found some happiness and catharsis in real life, not just in his dreams. Regardless of whether or not the top toppled after the screen turned black is rendered irrelevant because Cobb doesn't care anymore. He doesn't obsess over his dreams like he used to and he has emotionally broken through prepared to be with his kids again.

These theories are fun to hash out, but they're not why I love Inception. My experience with this movie four years ago changed the way I viewed dreams and my expectations for sci-fi movies. It anchors me in to experience something phenomenal. The music is enthralling, and the wholly original plot exciting. In short, Inception dazzles and reminds us why movies can be magical. 9/10

My last plug for the name thing: Dom, Robert, Eames, Arthur, Mal, Saito = DREAMS. Wut.

American Psycho (2000)

Everyone day-dreams. It's automatic. To fantasize is an exciting ability of our psyche that many of us thrive off of. Think about it. Every time you go on a date there's probably a before, during, and/or after day-dream of some sort. There certainly is for me. Before a date my mind goes through a best-case/worst-case scenario and I wander to the realm of what-if's. What if he kisses me? What if I say something witty that makes him laugh? What if he doesn't like me, what if he tries to take advantage of me? What if I punch him? Yeah, that would be pretty funny... Then there's the after-date fantasies. You replay over and over in your mind the things that happened and you dream about what didn't happen. You dream about what it was like to kiss them or what it would have been like to kiss them or what it would have been like to go further. In the mind there's no such thing as jumping to conclusions too quickly - everything is fair game. Pretty soon, though, you're criss-crossing reality with fantasy and you can hardly distinguish what was real and what wasn't. It doesn't matter if it actually happened or if it is all fake because in your mind everything is real. To quote Albus Dumbledore in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, "Of course it is happening inside your head... But why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" 

Our mind and our imagination are absolutely incredible. Sometimes dreams, or even day-dreams, can haunt us, though, and be so invasive that they creep into our reality. Our minds, in essence, affect our existence. What we imagine combined with what is real can change the way we view people and situations. The idea of imagination mixed with reality is explored and examined in American Psycho. 

Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) is a 20 something Wall Street yuppie living his own American dream. On the surface he has everything going for him. He's attractive and healthy, he's got a hot fiancée (Reese Witherspoon), and he's living in Manhattan and making the big bucks as an investment banker. Every morning he wakes up and goes through his same beautification routine using 20 different gel cleansers and exfoliating lotions. He does his stretching, his yoga, his push ups and sit ups. He is the American dream. But there's something hiding behind his perfect exterior. His appearance and careful selection of his business card or his watch ("don't touch the watch") is a metaphor for his materialistic drive into nothingness for he gains no emotional reward. "There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there." 

You see, this man who has it all is also a sadistic murderer. It's nothing overly premeditated - it's just something to do. It's a stress relief after a day in the office. Some people go on shopping sprees, Bateman goes on killing sprees. "I just had to kill a lot of people!" This drastic change in the typical Wall street routine puts the "psycho" in this American story. It's graphic, it's unsettling, and you can't take your eyes off any of it.

If you'll allow me to step back momentarily I want to make it clear that most of the time that I was watching American Psycho, I had no idea what the hell was going on. Even now - after watching it three times, writing and re-writing drafts on drafts on drafts of blog posts - I still don't have a clue what the hell was going on. But director Mary Harron and author Bret Eastman have succeeded in getting me to think for hours about the man who works in murders and executions - I mean mergers and acquisitions. 

I'll come back to Patrick. 

Here's the thing: the more you watch it (and really, I don't necessarily recommend watching it more than once - twice TOPS) the more you question. Nothing can be taken at face value, and that is where the worth lies in this masterpiece - albeit a flawed masterpiece. It succeeds in its agenda as an over-the-top satirical commentary on yuppies and greed and I must admit there was some entertainment value embedded in the disturbing over-the-toppery of Christian Bale and his business constituents (including Jared Leto, Justin Theroux, Josh Lucas, and Bill Sage). But at the end of the day, the question remains: what was real?

What is over-the-top on the surface is even more exaggerated and grotesque in the mind of our protagonist - assuming that these murders were, in fact, a figment of Bateman's imagination. This conclusion is shared by many, though the ending is meant to be ambiguous. Of course these brutal murders being imaginary is not apparent throughout the film despite the outrageous circumstances surrounding his threesome with two prostitutes and the subsequent physical abuse, his chasing a girl through an apartment suite butt naked with a chain saw and the praise he is given by a homeless victim whom Bateman blatantly insults and, well, murders. 

That's because everything is from HIS perspective and from HIS mind. It's all terribly real to Patrick. Not only is it real, but it's perfect. He insults with wit and timeliness. He sleeps with beautiful women and the sex is perfect. His murders are ravenous and maniacal but they feed his appetite. For a while after I saw this movie I came to believe that the murders were actually real just glorified in Patrick's crazed mind. It is all too crazy to be 100% real, but perhaps some of it was - only less perfectly executed and not so uncannily timed to Huey Lewis and the News. I might add, though, that the incredible use of soundtrack is strong evidence that this is actually happening in his head. Like, he's sitting on his leather couch plugged in to Whitney Houston and day dreaming about his next killing spree.

However, as soon as that ATM starts telling him to insert a kitten instead of a card and a police car just explodes, everyone's dropping eff bombs realizing that things aren't adding up anymore. Your expression of disbelief mirrors that of Patrick's as he stares at the exploding car and showing - for the first time in the movie - a sense of fear and bewilderment. It's as if he, too, realizes that reality and fantasy are merging and he can't believe what he is seeing anymore. With some superb acting by Christian Bale, Patrick shows vulnerability in just one expression. Despite how disgusted we are with his character, we see that there is a soul beneath this twisted, mentally insane man.

The problem that I see with this theory - the "everything wasn't real" theory - is that there is no barrier between what WAS real and what WASN'T. Take, for example, detective Donald Kimball (Willem Dafoe). Is that character completely made up? Is he a product of Bateman's mind reacting to his psychological deterioration? Because seriously when he pulls out that Huey Lewis CD you know that it can't be happening. Can it? Was he there? Who was there?

Also, the blood on the sheets? If that scene at the laundromat WASN'T real, then why was it even included? I'm just saying.

The only character I'm positive is not made up is the secretary, Jean (Chloe Sevigny). The scene where he takes her out and nearly murders her (all the while cracking Ted Bundy jokes) is another example of the lines between reality and fantasy being merged and indistinguishable. There is something real and tangible about that relationship - something not found in his interactions with any other character. Chloe Sevigny plays the genuine, soft-spoken secretary well and allows us to emotionally connect with someone more familiar to us.

The consistent theme of mistaken identity is the key to making any sense of the meaning behind the ambiguity. The humorous scene with the business cards is the most telling scene of American Psycho. The businessmen discussing the wording, embossing, color, thickness, engraving and typefaces are merely suits - their rivalries are over cards and dinner reservations, not over actual people. It's always someone who looks like someone else, a name forgotten, and a reputation without a face. No one remembers anyone's names because everyone looks the same, dresses the same, and has similar jobs. No one has individuating qualities. It's hard to follow the dialogue with Bateman and his colleagues because they keep calling each other by different names. If Patrick was actually a murderer, it essentially doesn't matter because no one cares enough about what's going on in each other's lives to do something about it. 

This theme could also be an argument for the reality of the murders. Bateman's therapist claims he ate lunch with Paul Allen in London after Bateman murdered him - this could be because it didn't actually happen or it could be because the therapist can't remember who Paul Allen is either. Bateman tries to confess but no one listens because no one cares. Paul Allen's apartment is for sale because it's been vacated of its previous occupant (dead) and the real estate agent would rather lie about finding dead bodies than decrease the value in the apartment. Perhaps the message is in the incredulity at such a self-absorbed, shallow society depicted to extremes with bright crimson blood splatters.

Which is right? Was it real or was it in his head? Unfortunately either conclusion pertaining to the reality of the events comes with plot holes and so it's difficult to come to a firm conclusion. But I don't think there is one right answer. I think that both sides are intertwined in this ambiguous message - the reality and the fantasy are mixed and indistinguishable just like in our day-dreams. I do think that most of the action is going on in his head, but that doesn't make it any less real.

The ideas and character study are fascinating and ultimately the film works because of Christian Bale's incredible performance. There is no self-preservation in his acting and he allows the audience to hate Bateman's despicable character without guile. It's a breakthrough performance for the future Bruce Wayne and Academy Award Winner. American Psycho is incredible in the realm of its own agenda. It's a graphic and gruesome commentary and a wild, amusing ride, if you can stomach it. Now I've got to go return some videotapes. 7/10

Toy Story (1995)

From the get-go Pixar was something special.  They needed no practice runs.  Toy Story raised the bar to infinity and beyond for animated pictures featuring both a quality story for all ages and top notch animation.  Although Pixar does nothing but improve in the effects department from here on out, the detail here is still incredible and better than any other animated predecessor.

So Andy (voiced by John Morris) is a kid just like any other who enjoys playing with his favorite toys.  But - spoilers! - as soon as he leaves the room, his toys come alive. Our chief character and leader of the pack is Sheriff Woody (Tom Hanks), Andy’s favorite toy.  Other toys include Mr. Potato Head (Don Rickles), Hamm (John Ratzenberger), Rex (Wallace Shawn), and Slink (Jim Varney).  After Andy’s birthday party (a very delicate affair complete with green army dudes and Playskool walkie-talkies for a stake out) the new toy arrives. Buzz Lightyear of star command (Tim Allen) is pretty new to the toy-verse.  He still believes he’s a space ranger (“Right now, poised at the edge of the galaxy, Emperor Zurg has been secretly building a weapon with the destructive capacity to annihilate an entire planet.  I alone have information that reveals this weapon’s only weakness.” - Star Wars anybody?) but regardless his mental state, there’s no denying that this toy is slick.  He comes complete with a karate chop action arm, wings, glow in the dark capabilities, a laser, and his helmet does that WHOOSH thing.  Pretty soon Woody is no longer the bee’s knees amongst his peers and owner.  Laser envy!  Buzz and Woody’s rivalry takes them on adventures they never could have imagined in their toy dreams,  “one minute you’re defending the whole galaxy, and, suddenly, you find yourself sucking down darjeeling with… Marie Antoinette and her little sister.”

Obviously Toy Story broke ground being the first film to be completely created by computer. The animation is new, fresh, and entirely liberating from its 2-D predecessors. I mean, I can't even fathom the amount of work that went into this baby project of John Lasseter and his fantastic team. It's hard for us - most specifically my generation - to recognize how significant Toy Story is. I mean, we've been around for all of Pixar's greats. But when I watched this today, I thought about how Toy Story marked the beginning of a new era for animated movies. And that's pretty cool.

Several other things stand out, though. First of all, Pixar proved that an animated flick (or any flick) doesn’t have to be childish to appeal to kids. I enjoy Disney movies as much as the next person, but never before had an animated movie captured its audiences of ALL ages with a script so sophisticated and witty. “Hey look I’m Picasso!” “Gee, I don’t get it.” “You uncultured swine!” Toy Story marks the first animated movie to ever be nominated for best screenplay and the writing is, indeed, something to be remembered. Even more than the lines, though, is the story and the characters. 

It got us to understand what toys are all about. Every child has had a favorite toy at one time or another. And these toys are real. Real enough that they feel, think, and act but their intentions are pure and their loyalty is earnest. Our Sheriff Woody knows that true joy for a toy comes from bringing happiness to their boy Andy. It's almost like the relationship to these charming characters is reciprocal - you can FEEL how much these toys just want to love and be loved. It makes you feel like you're back safe in your childhood. This movie also deals with issues far deeper than your usual happily ever after tale.  No one wants to be forgotten or left behind. It steers clear of the traditional animated-musical format but gets those emotions pumping all the same with Randy Newman's perfectly timed soundtrack.

All of the characters are timeless and lovable but Buzz particularly stands out as the cocky space toy, er, ranger who falls with style better than anyone I know.  His character is so endearing to the audience because of his naiveté and the poignancy that comes when he finally realizes he is just a toy. That scene is just... THE FEELS. 

Though it only gets better with Toy Story 2, there’s no denying the original remains one of Pixar’s very best - as well as its most influential. It isn't getting old any time soon. 9/10 

Other notes:

John Lasseter won a Special Achievement Award for "For the development and inspired application of techniques that have made possible the first feature-length computer-animated film."

Toy Story was also nominated for Best Original Screenplay, Best Music Original Song ("You've Got a Friend in Me"), and for Best Music, Original Music or Comedy Score (Randy Newman).

Ranked #99 in AFI's Top 100 Years... 100 Films list in 2007.