"Kiss Me Deadly" (1955)

Kiss Me Deadly is quite unlike any other film noir. Where most noir hint at deadliness and brutality, Kiss Me Deadly hits first and asks questions later. There's a strange, pleasant subversiveness to the film where the film increasingly embraces the inherent implausibility, density, and darkness of its narrative, leading to one of the most bizarre and awesome endings in all of cinema (one that influenced Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction). It's a B-movie but it's fine embracing its low budget, pulpy thrills, which makes it on the surface a little abrasive and rough -- as well as ahead of its time. But though Kiss Me Deadly functions on its own as noir, it's also a commentary on noirs. Everyone gets told they're in over their heads in noirs but few times has it been so totally accurate; the conspiracy in the film is so broad reaching and cynical that it somewhat becomes a critique of the genre. And Ralph Meeker's hard-boiled detective Mike Hammer -- a character who's barely likable or charming -- is so obsessed with the case almost to the point of nihilistic self-destruction that it's simultaneously suggestive of Cold War paranoia as well as the singular obsessions that abound in noirs.

Grade: A

How I Met Your Mother: "The Locket"/"Coming Back"

"The Locket" and "Coming Back" play out much like the last mid-season finale "The Final Page". The hour has a longer story it's telling but the two halves have enough stand-alone narrative that they could function as their own episode.

At times it feels as though the writers don't really know what to do with this extra time and "Coming Back" is the stronger of the portions of the episode on the whole as story elements begin to snap into focus. But the extra time allows the writers to drop in smaller moments that I don't know they would have otherwise, for good and for ilk. Much like the extended appearance of Seth Green in "Final Page", things in the first half get a little too goofy and needlessly unfocused for their own good.

The freshest moments are those that feature Cristin Milioti. The series, not surprisingly, highlights her brief moments. Not only that but they have a creative spark to them. In those moments, it doesn't feel like the show is dragging its feet and spinning in circles. In fact, it likely should have made these moments really stick and have some breathing room (When Future Ted says, "And that's how Lily met your Mother", the show passes over it far too quickly). It's something completely new and different, as well as something we've been dying to witness for over 8 years.

There's stuff that doesn't work. Marshall has the weakest of the stories, especially in the first half. His story highlights the series biggest problem at the moment: the characters are far too fragmented in their interactions at the moment. Though Sherri Shepherd gets some good fodder out of her lines and is a suitable match for Jason Segel, it can't help but feel like the writers are just killing time in Marshall's part of the story.

Critic Todd VanderWerff once described the power of television as accumulation. Movies can have more texture and they can have less loose ends but television has staying power. You don't just watch a tv show; you live through it. And so though there's a bit too much excess in this hour, the moments that need to stick and are intended to really get you in the gut do. Take the final moments of the episode where future Ted, now with the mother, recalls sitting at the same table a year earlier. What's so powerful about that moment, and moments elsewhere like it the series has pulled off, is how achingly real it is. The facade of sitcom antics fades away for a brief moment where the show rewards our investment and reassures us that it has been and will continue to be worth it.

I laughed for sure at the premiere, although not as consistently as I did when the show was at the top of its game. But the show can still be daggers. And ultimately it's just nice to be in this world for an hour or a half, to revisit some old friends and start to say good bye. Whatever complaints I may have had, it's been a lot of fun How I Met Your Mother.

Stray Thoughts:

 -Thus far the weird structure for the season, letting it unfold over just the wedding weekend, is proving to be a fruitful device -- especially for relating to us the mother's role in it -- but we'll wait and see how long they can sustain it. The more they get out of the discussion of fate and fateful coincidences the more I will be able to ignore it (As I eat that stuff up). If they get into too much minutiae about weddings though, it could start getting rough. 
-Though Marshall's story was the weakest -- in part because it feels like there's a lot of the show's ill-advised stall tactics and narrative contrivance --  his mother's attempts to take down the Facebook photo, for me at least, provided some of the most solid laughs.
-Marshall's story was the overall weakest but, for the most part, I also could have done without the "Barney and Robin might be cousins" story; left to their own storytelling devices in recent years these two characters can get a little too sickeningly cute and too over the top.
-Christin Millan and Josh Radnor have some killer chemistry as demonstrated by that brief flash forward scene and that makes me absurdly pleased after waiting and wondering for so long what that might be like.
-“King Joffrey’s parents were brother and sister, and he was a fair and wise leader.”

Grade: B+

"Wet Hot American Summer" (2001)

Wet Hot American Summer is a weird, silly movie filled with a scatter-shot of every last goofy joke it come up with. It's a send up of every 80's movie cliche the film can think up, chewing up and spitting back them to see what comes back up. Some of these jokes don't land or go on for far too long but the smorgasbord style of joke telling allows for the film to move past the gags that fall flat and onto something funnier. In its mid stretch the film is moving so rapidly from one shenanigan to the next that it doesn't quite matter that the film is fairly inconsistent. By embracing the awfulness of the cliches of late-70's and early 80's movies (particularly summer camp movies but really everything and anything to the point of off-putting specificity to anyone outside the know) the film occasionally makes the same mistakes those movies do. The film is perhaps most interesting for its large number of then largely unknown actors and comedians that would blow up in a few years time, including a scene stealing Amy Poehler, Paul Rudd, Bradley Cooper, and Elizabeth Banks. This is a movie throwing everything it has at us to try to make us laugh, and thus it's fitfully funny -- though it too often fails, those moments where it is funny are pretty hysterical and inspired.

Grade: B-

Breaking Bad: "Granite State"

The problem with judging an episode of a serialized television series is that some episodes only make sense or feel good in hindsight. After such breathless action, “Granite State” takes a big gulping breath to remind us of the consequences of what has unfolded while also bridging us to the end game for the show. In doing so it feels much more like its marking time, which makes it less notably memorable than some of the events of recent weeks. But you have to admit, few shows mark time like Breaking Bad.

Take the extended stretch of Walt out in New Hampshire. Not much happens, but it’s the way that happens that sets apart Breaking Bad from lesser series. Zach Handlen noted recently that what sets the show apart is how it turns its blatantly familiar serialized tv storytelling into one of its strongest assets. In the third season, we knew Walt and Jesse would partner back up but it was the way the show took seriously their divide and then carefully plotted out every little point leading to their reunion so that it felt totally earned that made it so much more than most serialized narratives. The show’s premise plays into the serialized model because we’re not watching a man stave off one consequence after another or turn from Mr. Chips to Scarface, as so often has been overused to describe the series, but rather we were watching Walter White slowly lose his soul. And watching every little thing that leads to that justifies the time spent so deliberately watching things unfold. 

This is why I point to the stretch in New Hampshire. It feels so very much like something we might have seen unfold in season two through four. Walt goes into hiding thinking that he’s going to plot revenge on the Nazis, and we slowly watch the little steps unfold where he barely has motivation to keep going – let alone plot this revenge. Note the little telling details that speak volumes to Walt’s state of being: His glasses prescription long having expired, asking the vacuum guy fixer to stay a few hours to keep him company, his wedding ring falling off his finger after large weight loss. Walt has given up on himself; there’s even a sense we’re given, for a time, that Walt could just live out his days in that isolated, idyllic New Hampshire cabin.  

This being an episode that takes its time (having extra episodic time to begin with) feels a little shaggier than our typical episode of Breaking Bad. It’s very loosely told and jumps around a lot. But there’s still a lot to like. Like how absolutely insane Todd is (Well, I guess “like” is the wrong word – more like love that you hate it). The only reason Jesse is still alive is so that Todd can try to please Lydia who he has a huge, creepy crush on (As far as justifications for keeping Jesse alive, it’s one I find to be great. It’s the kind of twisted, non-straightforward but intricate plotting the show has). Just look at the way he stares at Lydia, leaning over the back of his chair. He’s not experiencing love or infatuation – because who the hell knows if Todd is even capable of that – no, he’s experiencing obsession. And as if Todd weren’t atrocious enough he throws on a black ski mask and threatens the life of Skylar and baby Holly (!); this to protect his dearest Lydia. Somehow that’s still not the worst thing Todd does. No, that would be killing Andrea, but I'm getting ahead of myself. 

It’s hard to say who has it the worst out of the characters at the moment but at least Walt has choices. Jesse is as trapped as anyone can be. Imprisoned by the Nazis, he desperately makes an attempt to escape (MacGyvering his way out of his handcuffs with a paper clip – Jesse is far smarter than he’s often given credit). But alas he’s caught while climbing up the fence of the compound. He begs for them to just kill him already (and in that moment you’ve never wanted such mercy to be permitted upon a character). But nope: they’ve got to make him watch Andrea get shot in the back of the head. When she unlocked the door I was screaming out “No! Stay inside!” Now Brock is a poor orphan, a damnable piece of leverage to hold over Jesse. 

And then there’s what drives Walt to finally return to Albuquerque. Walt’s conversation with the fixer about whether he’d give the money to Walt’s family after he died made him realize he’s been a massive failure in the one regard he’s always at least claimed to be living up to. So he makes up a package of nearly a hundred thousand dollars and calls Walter Jr. (with a kindly bar patron pretending to be Aunt Marie in a phone call to the principal’s office). But Flynn has had enough of Walt’s crap. “I don’t want anything from you!” he yells. 

Walt has resigned himself to being caught, putting in a call to the DEA so they can locate him. He pours a drink and waits for the cops to arrive. When all of the sudden, the powers that be flicker the Charlie Rose talk program on the television featuring none other than his former Grey Matter partners who deny that Walt had any part in the creation of the company. “Virtually nothing,” they say. It stirs something deep down in Walt. This is the primordial pride that drove him to get into the meth business and refuse any and all handouts. He wanted to be acknowledged for his contributions. His money. His meth. His empire. His family. His name. Walt is super-possessive, and damn if he isn’t going to let things end on his terms. 

Stray Thoughts:

-I'm not sure the episode entirely justifies everything that occurred but it's a necessary bit of leg work to get us to the finale and so I'm willing to overlook it. If nothing else that last stretch with Walt's progression elevates the episode to a new level.

-Saul joins Walt in disappearing. The best moment here is Walt attempting to re-create his infamous “It’s over when I say it over” but coughs so badly midway through that he’s unable to. Saul can no longer be intimidated after a flub like that.

-Skylar barely hears any of the deposition; it sounds like screeching white noise. Similar to the funk Hank was in at the start of “Blood Money”.

-Walt was self-treating himself with the chemo while in New Hampshire. His inability to put the needle in himself before just nutting up and doing it is a wonderful little touch.

-Gretchen suggests one argument made about the show that the Walter that we saw at series start is long since gone and what remains is a shell of that man.

-The great character actor Robert Forster played the fixer Ed. Not sure I entirely understand or buy his continued relationship with Walt post-"witness protection", but a welcome presence none-the-less.
-Walt confirms that the things he said in his phone call to Skylar were, as some had argued, all intended to make her look blameless.
-Yea Todd, giving Jesse some Ben and Jerry's totally makes up for imprisoning him in a dungeon and turning him into your meth cook slave.
-Love that the show brings us way, way back to its roots by reminding us yet again of Grey Matter and tying that into Walt's decision to return home.

Grade: A-

"Sweet Smell of Success" (1957)

Sweet Smell of Success exists in that realm of films where people talk fast and think faster. It's a noir wrapped up in a more conventional drama about newspaper insiders. Everyone is trying to out think, out talk and out succeed the next guy, and few people seem above getting themselves a little dirty to get ahead. Journalist Sidney Falco believes himself to be too smart and too crafty to be stuck playing second fiddle to his boss columnist J.J. Hunsecker -- he writes a sensational, gossipy entertainment column that Falco wants to take over. Falco is Sweet Smell of Success's best creation; he's amoral and nearly without scruples but he's utterly compelling and charming in the hands of Tony Curtis. Its a performance that's matched at every turn by Burt Lancaster's cold, commanding Hunsecker. He's a man who's always in control and sends out Falco to go out and fix his every problem by any means necessary. Falco is fed up but he plans to turn his current task into sure-fired career advancement. He's been assigned to undoing J.J.'s kid sister's relationship with a small time jazz musician. Falco plays all the angles, attempts to force people into compromising and unpleasant situations, and sweet talks (occasionally slimily talks) his way in and out of every corner. He's not always as on top of things as he thinks but he's smart and ambitious and not afraid to do just about anything get what he wants -- even when it might not sit well with him as it slowly eventually does. The most memorable part of the film is the dialogue from Alexander Mackendrick (who also directed), Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman's script; it's sharp, acidic and impeccably delivered by the cast.

Grade: A

This Week in Film (9/15/13 - 9/21/13)

A belated Master Post has arrived for last week's films. This week we have a lot of heartbreaking movies, a lot of movies about making movies, and simply a lot of good movies. Let's tally it up:

Blackmail (1929) - One of Alfred Hitchcock's earliest films and his first sound film. It's got nothing on his later classics but it still shows a lot of familiar Hitchcock trademarks: disdain for authority, links between sex and violence, and, of course, lots of suspense.

Breaking Bad: "Ozymandias" - If last week's Breaking Bad didn't make you just a little sick to your stomach than I'm not sure it succeeded but for all of the rest of us it continued the series brutal, scathing intensity that it has so expertly achieved in these last few episodes.

This Film is Not Yet Rated (2006) - Kirby Dick's insightful documentary about the shadowy, evasive and questionable Motion Picture Association of America takes tactics that undermine its message but its subject matter is so ripe for criticism that it's hard to get mad.

New Girl: "All In" - New Girl kicked off its third season with a premiere that proved that hadn't lost much steam coming off of its excellent second season, tackling the consequences of Nick and Jess becoming a couple and simply being as fun and endearing as ever. 

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966) - Mike Nichol's domestic drama is difficult to get through and it's to the credit of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton's powerhouse performances in the lead roles that it still has this effect.

Claire's Knee (1971) - Eric Rohmer's breezy, sumptuous small scale character study and examination of romance is like a nice little vacation away from reality filled with self-discovery, witty travel companions and beautiful French countryside locales.

Jason and the Argonauts (1963) - Come for the Greek mythos stay for special effects extraordinaire Ray Harryhausen's phenomenal pioneering stop motion effects.

The Cabin in the Woods (2012) -The Cabin in the Woods is part horror, part comedy, part meta-commentary, and all pretty damn fun. It's about why we watch horror movies and the ways in which they tell their stories, but it's also its own weird, idiosyncratic, wholly original work that deflates the genre even as its embraces it.

Sonatine (1993) - Takeshi Kitano's surprisingly affecting gangster drama shows gangsters as would-be machismos in way over their heads. It's a film that's rather funny even as its elegiac and sad. The gangsters get an unexpected break from their yakuza business and spend it goofing around, demonstrating their inner, care free selves but the reprieve is bittersweet as it is not long to last.

"Sonatine" is as Playful as It is Heartbreaking

For a large portion of its run-time the gangster film Sonatine treats itself more like a sincerely goofy, playful comedy than a gangster drama. The simple task of negotiating a truce between small time criminal outfits goes awry and Murakawa (Takeshi Kitano -- who also wrote, directed and edited) and his surviving outfit are forced to go into hiding at a beach house. Here they play practical jokes, and care-freely mess around. And yet it's also a truly melancholy and sad film. Sonatine is interested in playing against gangster expectations; these aren't tough, masculine yakuza. They are just a bunch of guys who fell into this lifestyle, and the gangster life ultimately forces them to pay a price (Watch as people keep repeatedly discussing retiring, weary of the whole enterprise -- poignant even as it's ironic). Kitano underlines the film with a dry deadpan style (compositionally but not texturally, where it is often hauntingly beautiful). The big moments of action almost feel matter of fact and the characters treat them as business as usual (they can't afford to see it any other way). The time at the beach house is reprieve for them where they can be their true selves away from all the posturing and business, and that makes it all the more heartbreaking even as it is really funny.

Grade: A-