Category Archives: Poetry

The Fault in Our Stars (2014)

31 Friday Jul 2015

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They say that pain demands to be felt,
And we’re the ones to feel it,
The ones to bear the cards we’re dealt,
Unable to conceal it.

But pain is not the only one
Demanding our attention,
Although it blinds us like the sun
From others’ intervention.

Yet if we look beyond the pain
To love without regret,
We’ll see that neither is in vain
If love’s demands are met.
_____________________

Rating: PG-13 (for language, sexuality, and some heavy themes)

The first time I heard about The Fault in Our Stars was when a female coworker of mine gushed over how much she loved it and how much she cried and how much she loved crying at it. Thus, I thought it was merely some weepy chick flick. Then I heard all kinds of buzz about the movie adaptation and its talented young stars. Then my VC read the book and was wholly unimpressed, finding the character of Hazel Grace Lancaster so ill-tempered and somber as to be irritating.

Thus, I didn’t know what my opinion would be once I finally saw the blockbuster tearjerker of 2014, and I must say that it deserved its praise. Shailene Woodley is indeed melancholy as Hazel Grace, but with good reason: riddled with cancer since the age of thirteen, she has few joys in life. All the normal teenage pleasures of friends and such have yielded to chemotherapy sessions and constant fears about those who fear for her. Her morbidity is understandable and, as my VC pointed out, off-putting, but that only makes the subsequent romance more surprising and heart-winning.

As Augustus Waters, Ansel Elgort is the nicest guy imaginable, able to keep his spirits high with life-affirming metaphors and willing to part with everything from trophies to wishes for the sake of his friends. Like me and Pat from Silver Linings Playbook, he can’t abide unsatisfying endings, and he won’t accept that life is meaningless. He’s “kind of awesome” and almost too good to be true, but therein lies his appeal. My VC and I both love Elizabethtown, and I pointed out to her that Orlando Bloom’s character in that film also starts out depressed and obsessed with death (with only good looks being a reason for anyone to be attracted to him), yet he is captivated and encouraged by Kirsten Dunst’s Claire, who seems to consider his happiness her mission. Augustus is the same way. When Hazel desires further information about her favorite book (which happens to be about cancer), his efforts on her behalf are more than enough to win her heart.

Based on what I’ve written so far, this may seem like a happy, uplifting story that starts low but keeps on getting better, “a rollercoaster that only goes up,” but such is not the case. Like life itself, there are ups and downs and a tear for every smile. The film is sometimes shockingly abrupt in ungilding the lily, but even then it achieves a touching balance of bitterness and humor, of cynicism and sentiment.

That’s not to say that it is without fault. I didn’t care for how the lone Christian character is mocked as a sincere but inept “Kumbaya” advocate. It’s easy for cynicism to slough off the assurances of religion, but I for one can’t imagine finding meaning in suffering without faith (Christianity, in my case). As convinced as Hazel is from the start, I don’t believe in oblivion, and it’s a bit sad that even the most buoyant character can only say he believes in a heavenly “something.”

Even so, The Fault in Our Stars treads the line between the two viewpoints, Hazel’s sarcastic pessimism and Gus’s vague optimism, and retains a unique intelligence within its familiar romantic storyline, acknowledging that one deep love can be life-affirming. While it’s essentially this generation’s Love Story, The Fault in Our Stars engages both mind and heart far better than the usual tearjerker, though it can still jerk the tears with the best of them.

Best line: (Augustus, to the mother of his friend’s ex-girlfriend) “Hello, ma’am. Your daughter, she’s done a great injustice, so we’ve come here seeking revenge. You see, we may not look like much, but between the three of us, we have five legs, four eyes, and two and a half pairs of working lungs, but we also have two dozen eggs, so if I were you, I would go back inside.”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput

328 Followers and Counting

VC Pick: Funny Farm (1988)

29 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Well, come on up to Redbud;
We would love to have you here.
A life out in the country’s good
For those who persevere.

Just look at Andy Farmer,
Why, when he moved here at first,
He very nearly went insane
Before things got their worst.

If he can handle country life,
Then anybody can.
Just know that moves here rarely go
According to the plan.
_______________

Rating: PG (for some language and slapstick)
Another film beloved of my VC and liked by me, Funny Farm features Chevy Chase doing what Chevy Chase does best: getting in over his head. In this case, he’s Andy Farmer, a writer planning his first novel and wishing to get away from it all in the country with his wife Elizabeth (Madolyn Smith). With similarities to Baby Boom and Newhart, the film upholds the view that Vermont must be full of eccentrics, though in this case some are a bit more mean-spirited and vindictive.

While Andy and his wife desperately try to relax and squeeze enjoyment from small-town life, everything—literally everything—goes wrong. Furniture moving, fishing, gardening, placing a phone call, writing his ingenious novel, even getting mail—everything has unfortunate, humorous outcomes, the kind of mishaps that make you laugh even as you feel sorry for the poor saps being tormented. All these problems naturally take a toll on their marriage, particularly when Andy’s wife reads his masterpiece. One of the greatest fears of all authors is being told that their work stinks, and as much as Andy overreacts, I can say from personal experience that he’s at least somewhat believable. (I love how his wife complains that his manuscript has too many flashbacks, flash forwards, and even a flash sideways. He could have written Lost!) By the time they’ve had enough of Vermont, they’re ready to do anything to escape, and the plot they hatch with the entire town is hilarious.

I wouldn’t say Funny Farm is one of the greatest comedies, but it has its fair share of visual humor and crack-up moments, which get funnier as they pile onto each other. Some actually manage to be educational. For instance, if you move to Vermont, never buy an untrained dog. Never chop down road signs. Never write books inspired by real people and then kill them off. If you don’t know what a menu item is, ask first, especially for something as enigmatic as Lamb Fries. Never gild the lily. In fact, according to this and other movies, perhaps it would be best to just not move to Vermont at all, if you value your sanity.

Best line: (a young vandal, after cutting down an important traffic sign) “Think we should put this back?”   (another boy) “What are you, nuts? This sign is mint. There’s not a bullet hole in it!”

Rank: List Runner-Up

© 2015 S. G. Liput

328 Followers and Counting

Winter’s Tale (2014)

22 Wednesday Jul 2015

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“What if the war between darkness and light
Decided if stars would fluoresce in the night?
What if a thief and a horse snowy white
Could save an enigma at destiny’s tasking?

“What if, when angels and demons do spar,
They fight for the miracles human souls are?
What if we die and become a new star?”
“Quite simply, we don’t, silly girl, so stop asking!”
________________

Akiva Goldsman has had a mixed career; he did win an Oscar for his screenplay for A Beautiful Mind, but that was after also writing Batman and Robin. His directorial debut Winter’s Tale plays to both his strengths and weaknesses, with a story that is sometimes fancifully rich but also stumbles in trying to sustain that richness.

Winter’s Tale is an unusual blend of real-world romance and parallel fantasy. On the human side, the story follows Peter Lake (Colin Farrell), a thief who falls in love with Beverly Penn (Jessica Brown Findlay). In 1916, she is dying of tuberculosis and has some odd opinions about the afterlife. On the fantastical side, a mobster named Pearly Soames (Russell Crowe) is really an undercover demon who wants Peter dead and is part of a covert “dark side” intent on preventing humans from fulfilling their inner miracles and becoming stars. Apparently in this story, Beverly’s beliefs are correct, though there’s no indication of how she learned about the whole romantic “star” mumbo jumbo, nor why this version of New York City has angels and demons but no sign of traditional religion, nor why it is ostensibly the real world but no one seems to have noticed flying horses or men who don’t age.

As the story progressed, I was unsure where it was going, though I was more confused than intrigued. Still, now that I understand the full picture, I believe Winter’s Tale is a worthwhile story that unfortunately loses its way. I admire its themes of hope and good triumphing over evil, as well as the message that our destiny is rarely what we expect. The period setting and intermittent effects are also well-crafted for the most part, and I found the acting quite good, especially Crowe as the snarling villain.

Yet it’s hard to ignore its weaknesses, particularly the gushingly romantic, sometimes poetic dialogue about stars and the universe, which stand in for heaven and God, respectively. In addition, one of my complaints about The Notebook was that Ryan Gosling is reduced to a lovesick recluse without his sweetheart and for far too long. Here, that weakness is extended for decades with no end in sight, a state that our hero accepts with little to no change.

Winter’s Tale has merit but not enough of it to make it a must-see, even for fantasy fans. Some aspects surprisingly work (such as Will Smith’s cameo as the devil), but others are just hard to believe (such as the flying horse who is really a dog who is really an angel. Huh?). I would see it again, but I wouldn’t seek it out.

Best line: (Beverly Penn, in an instance where her voiceover rings true) “But be warned: as we seek out the light, darkness gathers and the eternal contest between good and evil is not fought with great armies… but one life at a time.”

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2015 S. G. Liput

328 Followers and Counting

VC Pick: Cannery Row (1982)

17 Friday Jul 2015

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Some funny folk know
Where to go,
Even though
There aren’t any canners on Cannery Row.

‘Tis not a disgrace
To embrace
Such a place.
You’ll see when you meet these new friends face to face.

In this blithe domain,
It is vain
To be sane.
Just mix with the locals, and they’ll entertain.
____________
Rating: PG (would probably be PG-13 nowadays, due to profanity)

My VC has often mentioned how much she enjoys this film and how she likes it more with every viewing, but somehow I had never gotten around to seeing it for myself…until now. Adapted from John Steinbeck’s book Cannery Row and (to a greater extent) its sequel Sweet Thursday, this Depression-era charmer has all the quirk of a cult classic, though it isn’t one to my knowledge. The actual storyline, set on the California coastline, is rather thin, and instead the film relies on humorous vignettes, establishing its cast of lovably screwed-up characters and letting them interact as only amiable neighbors can.

There’s Doc (Nick Nolte in one of the few roles I’ve seen of his before his “grizzled old man” makeover), the benevolent marine biologist who has special plans for some captured octopi. There’s Mack (M. Emmet Walsh), the leader of a quintet of goodhearted bums, and Hazel (Frank McRae), the anxious dimwit fated to become President of the United States but who may be wiser than even he knows. There’s Joseph and Mary, owner of the local grocery who happens to accept frogs as currency (and yes, that’s the name of one man). There’s Fauna, proprietress of Cannery Row’s friendly neighborhood brothel, and the Seer, a homeless codger who has visions and plays his trumpet to the rising sun. And then there’s Suzy (Debra Winger, possibly at her prettiest), the newcomer in need of a roof, a job, and maybe a little love.

All these colorful personalities bounce off each other perfectly, aided by the droll narration of John Huston himself (known to me as Gandalf in the Rankin/Bass version of The Hobbit) Thus, they do have quite a bit of waggish fun: party fiascoes, unprecedented frog hunts, dance challenges, beer milkshakes, rattlesnake conversations, and so on. Where else are you going to hear a line like “A man sentenced to be President of the United States could not go to a party as a dwarf”? In addition, Cannery Row itself happens to be an ideal backdrop for these amusing misadventures, a huge set (which is clearly a set) of dirty inlets beneath salt-encrusted boardwalks and nocturnal serenades of bluesy jazz, although there’s a good deal of classical and swing music too.

By the end, the jocularity gives way to some buried guilt and dark possibilities, yet the story’s irresistible charm still wins out. Both my VC and I were left smiling as the credits rolled, satisfied that this endearing microcosm of friendliness and romance had found its “greased grooves.”

Best line: (Hazel) “I love Doc! He was a character witness for me, and I ain’t got no character.”

VC’s best line: (Suzy, to Doc) “Look, every time I talk to you, I get more confused. I like you just fine when you’re not around.”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput

327 Followers and Counting

The Son (2003)

15 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Grief can make it hard to live,
And even harder to forgive,
And when we see someone to blame,
It’s easy to despise the same.

Yet kindness can bear added weight
When aimed at someone we could hate.
We might be able to start living
If we first attempt forgiving.
_______________

Rating: Unsure (Nothing objectionable I recall)

The Son (or Le Fils in French) is a critic’s movie; that is to say, it’s the kind of film that critics swoon over while ordinary movie watchers scratch their heads asking, “Is this great filmmaking?” Granted, I’ve never seen anything else by the French Dardenne brothers, but I had only heard good things and was expecting much more from these Cannes favorites.

The plot itself is extremely simple, the kind of story that could have been just as (or more) effective with a half-hour running time. I agree that Cannes Best Actor Olivier Gourmet is quietly persuasive as Olivier, a teacher of carpentry at a vocational school. In the beginning, there’s a drawn-out mystery when a new student named Francis applies, causing Olivier to stalk and leer and act almost creepy as he allows the boy into his class. Disclosing the secret taxed my patience, but its eventual revelation is shrewd and gradual. Let’s just say that Olivier has reason to not be so kind to Francis, and Olivier is well aware of it, even subconsciously. A perceptive example is when he calls all his students by name but refers to Francis as “you.” This standoffish benevolence puzzles Olivier himself, his ex-wife, the boy, the audience, and (according to the Dardennes) even the filmmakers themselves, yet I consider this up-to-interpretation uncertainty more of a weakness than a strength. There’s a subtle and admirable theme of forgiveness versus revenge, one that was lauded by critics for its naturalism, but in this case, the abrupt ending might have benefited from some additional dialogue, since even the words “I’m sorry” don’t make an appearance.

This somewhat stilted “naturalism” carries over to the camera work too. Olivier Gourmet is a good actor; it’s a shame that I mainly saw the back of his head. For the majority of the film, it is as if we are looking over his shoulder, as he walks down corridors, runs, drives, carries beams, and performs various other mundane activities. It reminded me of the beginning of Captain Phillips, but whereas that film only employed this technique for the opening car ride, The Son gets tiresome with its overuse. I will admit that certain scenes utilize this method strongly, such as when Olivier looks straight into the camera when backing up his car, but these are few and far between.

Perhaps when I see more from the Dardennes, I’ll see that this approach is simply their preferred style. Perhaps I just didn’t “get” it like all the real critics did. Perhaps further exploring their filmography will give me a greater appreciation for their artistry. Or perhaps I’ll simply watch something far more appealing, like Inside Out.

Rank: Dishonorable Mention

© 2015 S. G. Liput

327 Followers and Counting

Roman Holiday (1953)

11 Saturday Jul 2015

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For visiting tourists, there’s no place like Rome;
For young Princess Ann, it’s too much like home
And all of the cities in which she’s a slave,
Condemned to repeat boring answers and wave.

Escaping outside for a chance to be free,
She’s found by a grudging reporter, and he
Will grant all her wishes for leisure and fun,
As long as an interview comes, one on one.

But Rome is a place where romances pervade,
And many big plans yield to memories made.
___________________

Rating: Not Rated (might as well be G)

One of those acclaimed older movies I’ve never seen before now, Roman Holiday is a renowned classic, and unlike The Philadelphia Story, it deserves that hallowed status. Audrey Hepburn’s original Oscar-winning role, at only about 24 years old, impressed Gregory Peck enough to earn her top billing, even though she was just being introduced. While she deserved it, Peck’s actions also indicate his generosity, and watching two earnest, utterly likable actors of Hollywood’s Golden Age remains a treat, thanks also to a shrewdly written screenplay.

It’s a plot that has been reused many times over in TV shows since: a discontented royal sneaks away for a day of fun and escape. Hepburn looks as regal as the reformed Eliza Doolittle, thanks to her natural beauty and the Oscar-winning costume design, and she performs certain scenes of immaturity splendidly, scenes that could have been ridiculous with a less talented Princess Ann. How she meets reporter Joe Bradley (Peck) is far from ideal, but it sets up quite a few laughs. Once the two of them start touring Rome, though, accompanied by photographer Irving (chuckle-worthy Eddie Albert), the on-location film becomes cinematic sightseeing at its best, despite being in black and white. Piazzas and landmarks like the Spanish Steps and the Mouth of Truth serve as a romantic backdrop for the trio’s jaunt; the famed Mouth of Truth scene made me feel rather ignorant, since I had no idea where its central gag originated (I only knew it from National Treasure: Book of Secrets).

(Some spoilers ahead.) While Bradley’s motivations in escorting Ann around town seem selfish at first, his plans evolve imperceptibly over the course of the day. I kept waiting for him to broach the subject of his demanding an interview, but by the time that opportunity passes, we’re left to wonder what it was that changed his mind. For Bradley and the princess, duty and affection take opposite paths, but loyalty remains their common bond and a common separation. As a romantic comedy, Roman Holiday elicits plenty of smiles but chooses the less predictably rosey path, a bittersweet sendoff that chooses nostalgia over love.

Best line: (Princess Ann) “What do you sell?”   (Joe, the newspaper writer) “Er, fertilizer.”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput
327 Followers and Counting

Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

08 Wednesday Jul 2015

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When the dark is at its worst,
Some people may despair,
But some, refusing to be cursed,
See silver linings there.

Those linings may be hard to hold,
But promise they contain,
And when life’s strains are uncontrolled,
Think not they are in vain.

In bearing aches of head and heart,
Nobody is alone,
And silver linings may impart
New chances never known.
_________________

Rating: R

What do you get when you combine a talented writer/director with a uniformly Oscar-worthy cast of actors? Most of the time, you get a hit, and most of the time, that’s what David O. Russell’s Silver Linings Playbook is. As the first film since Reds to earn all four acting nominations at the Academy Awards, it features four excellent actors who know what they’re doing, even if it’s more the stuff of Oscar nominations rather than wins, though Jennifer Lawrence still won Best Actress.

This is the kind of romantic comedy that makes you feel better about yourself, because at least your life (hopefully) isn’t as messed-up as these people’s. Bipolar Pat Solitano, Jr. (Bradley Cooper), is lucky to have two loving and understanding parents like Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver, who allow him to stay with them after his release from a psychiatric hospital. While he hopes to pick up with his wife, whose cheating caused his initial mental breakdown, he meets grieving widow Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), who’s also lucky to have two loving and understanding parents. At first glance, they might seem perfect for each other, two mentally unstable people who might be able to support each other, but between Pat’s obsession with his unfaithful wife and their tendency to pity the other, things are as complicated as real life or more so. (I admire Pat’s commitment to his wife, but it’s one-sided and delusional.) Throw in a dance competition, financial risks, and a Stevie Wonder phobia, and who knows if new love may bloom?

The relatable drama balances the headaches of mental illness with comedic touches that seem like ideas drawn from real life rather than spawned in a writer’s head. I’ve personally felt Pat’s dissatisfaction with an unhappy ending, though I wouldn’t go as far as he does, except in the blogosphere. While not everyone approved of the depiction of mental illness, the Oscar-nominated screenplay by Russell fosters this sense of realism in being unafraid to allow the “sloppy and dirty,” imperfections and natural flaws in both the characters and their actions. Nothing is idealized, not even the climactic dance number, but it’s all good enough to be satisfying and win over an audience.

My one complaint would have to be the crudity of the language. I know it doesn’t bother most people, but why must F-bombs be thrown around so casually in “great” movies? I’m not one to condemn a film only for foul language, but it just seems so unnecessary, making it less watchable for those sensitive to it. Robert De Niro, in particular, has an upset scene in which every other word begins with F. I suppose that’s realistic too, and I know this film is far from the worst offender, but without the language, you’d still have the outstanding performances and direction and miss nothing. Maybe it’s just me….

Nevertheless, Silver Linings Playbook is one of the better modern romantic dramedies, urging everyone to find their silver lining and illustrating love as a complex mix of empathy, madness, chance, and bribery. And it makes me want to try some “crabby snacks and homemades.”

Best line: (Tiffany) “You let me lie to you for a week?”   (Pat) “I was trying to be romantic.”

Rank: List Runner-Up
© 2015 S. G. Liput
325 Followers and Counting

Cool Hand Luke (1967)

03 Friday Jul 2015

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Welcome to the chain gang, Luke,
Where slightest back talk earns rebuke.
Forget your crime was just a fluke.
You’re here to pay your debt.

You’ll learn the rules at any rate,
For you will quickly learn your fate
If “failure to communicate”
Remains a running threat.
_________________

Rating: PG

Most of the films I’ve seen were released since the 1970s, and while I love classics like Gone with the Wind and Miracle on 34th Street, there are still quite a few “classic” films that I have yet to see. One of these movies that critics and the AFI love to laud is Cool Hand Luke, a film that, before now, was only a name and a famous quote to me. Now I have my own opinion.

Seeing this star-making role for Paul Newman was fascinating in many ways, particularly in how this chain gang tale influenced other prison films like The Shawshank Redemption (betting on new arrivals, escape attempts), Holes (prison buddy nicknames, escape attempts), and even Toy Story 3 (the famous box speech). A scene involving paving a road brought to mind Bessie from Cars and made me wonder if that’s why Pixar cast Paul Newman in that film. The story of Luke Jackson’s imprisonment is a worth-while one, featuring all the Oscar-worthy acting and tenacious style that attracts critical praise and a 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes. Newman, in particular, has some moments of phenomenal acting, and I thought he deserved an Oscar more than George Kennedy (who won Best Supporting Actor) as his rival-turned-friend Dragline. The work camp includes quite a few recognizable faces as well, including Strother Martin (the horse dealer in True Grit), Ralph Waite (Pa from The Waltons), Wayne Rogers (TV’s M*A*S*H), Harry Dean Stanton (the first victim in Alien), and Dennis Hopper (Speed, Hoosiers). It’s a well-made film, but as with One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest, I take issue with the way its message is conveyed.

Basically, what Cool Hand Luke reminds me of is a less uplifting version of The Shawshank Redemption, but fused with the anti-establishment theme of Cuckoo’s Nest. Luke himself is an anti-hero who’s tamer than R. P. McMurphy but still problematic. Instead of being rebellious for the sake of fun or feeling free, he’s ultimately rather shallow and just seems to be masochistic and stupid. A drunken mistake lands him in prison, and a boxing match with later friend Dragline proves Luke’s capacity for his own suffering, with no clear motivation. Later on, that suffering is far less willing, but Luke still brings it on himself. Who but an idiot would try to escape with less than a year of his sentence to go, knowing it would add on more? And it isn’t as if Luke’s time there was insufferable. Everyone could still smoke and drink and gamble (unrealistic for jail time), and aside from an early power play, the guards aren’t too cruel until Luke gives them reason to be. Thus, the impetus for Luke’s rebellion just doesn’t make sense.

On top of that, there are several instances of religious symbolism drawing a comparison between Luke and Jesus, though their only similarity is that both their punishments were overly severe. I like, even admire, character parallels to Christ, but when they include no sign of sacrifice, they fall flat, as in this case. To his fellow inmates, he becomes a hero, but only because he’s willing to do things they don’t have the backbone for or, better put, things they have the common sense not to do. He talks to God but not with any reverence, more like Robert Green Ingersoll challenging the “old man” to prove He’s there. The Christian comparison is sometimes rather explicit, but serves no purpose due to Luke being nothing like Jesus: Luke doesn’t help his fellow prisoners in any way (aside from winning Dragline a bet), he isn’t innocent, and his mother (Jo Van Fleet) ain’t no Virgin Mary. Therefore, why make the comparison?

Again, I must point to Shawshank as the shining example of how to do this anti-establishment freedom theme right. It’s always best when the good guy is innocent and the bad guy is undoubtedly evil. (POW films usually succeed too, since the roles of good and bad typically conform to who won or lost the war.) I realize not every film can have this setup, but those that don’t just don’t work, at least for me. As I said, this is a good film, one worth watching and preserving, but other films have built on its themes far more persuasively. Critics can praise the character of Luke, but when an iconic role is dominated by nothing more than a “because I can” attitude, I’m unsure why its faults aren’t more recognized.

Best line: (both the Captain and Luke) “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.”

Rank: Honorable Mention

© 2015 S. G. Liput

324 Followers and Counting

Inside Out (2015)

01 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Every girl and every boy
Has Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Joy
(Disgust as well) within their minds
To guide them through their days.
They form and file memories,
And inside Riley, all of these
Are touched by Joy, who always finds
The silver lining’s rays.

Though Joy insists on keeping her
As happy as they always were,
A touch of Sadness now in spots
May not be such a shame.
When Riley moves against her will,
And Sadness starts her off downhill,
The world of Riley’s inner thoughts
Will never be the same.
_____________________
While other people have been eagerly awaiting adult fare like Jurassic World, Mad Max: Fury Road, and Batman vs. Superman, I’ve been looking forward to Inside Out, hoping that it would be a return to the Pixar excellence to which moviegoers had become accustomed. I’m happy to say, it is. I’m trying to not let other critics’ positive reviews color my opinion, but I really am thrilled that Pixar has bounced back from the good-not-great status of Brave and the disappointment of Cars 2.

A movie about personified emotions in the control center of the mind—as original as it sounds, there have been similar concepts before, like the nearly forgotten ‘90s sitcom Herman’s Head, but whereas such ideas are usually reserved for comedy, Inside Out delves deeper, putting the emotion in emotional. Within the head of 12-year-old Riley Anderson, all her emotions work together most of the time—Joy (Amy Poehler), Sadness (Phyllis Smith), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling), and Fear (Bill Hader, in full Flint Lockwood mode)—and everyone but Sadness has a clearly defined role to play in guiding Riley’s actions. While this cast could have been one-note, epitomizing singular, often negative feelings, they all contribute to Riley’s personality and work well as characters due to their concern for her overall well-being (despite some poor decisions), not to mention the wisely chosen voice cast (many of which hail from Saturday Night Live or The Office).

While Riley’s external world involves a tempestuous move from Minnesota to San Francisco, her inner world endures even more distressing changes, worsened by the separation of leader Joy and downer Sadness from their psychological Headquarters. Having included too many spoilers in my past reviews, I want to tread lightly with this one and leave the film’s full impact for the fresh viewer. Suffice to say, Inside Out is a journey through the psyche that casual viewers can enjoy on the surface and analysts can pick apart to find ever more engaging layers of nuance and symbolism underneath.

When I first heard the film’s concept, I was a bit perplexed by the choice of five emotions because not every experience or feeling is so clear-cut. Yet children’s emotions are far simpler and more distinct than those of adults; the filmmakers know this well and use this very fact as the driving conflict in the film (there is no villain), since Riley is in the formative years of young adulthood. What is the cause of children suddenly needing “alone time” or deriving more frustration than enjoyment from past pleasures? How would mood swings, depression, dreams, or sarcasm be visualized in this uniquely Pixar mindscape? The film’s explanations for questions like these are eye-opening, as is the role of multiple emotions in shaping our deepest memories and impressions, yet much of it is metaphorical, implicit, and never heavy-handed in its interpretation. Here’s an example of one of the many questions prompted by the film’s themes: While certain crises seem cataclysmic at the time, perhaps these tragedies are merely an inevitable step toward maturity, though they’re no less regrettable. You’ll understand when you see it.

Compared with Pixar’s other classics, Inside Out can hold its ground with favorites like Ratatouille, Up, and Monsters, Inc. (the latter two also directed by Pete Docter), and even if the film doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Incredibles or Finding Nemo, it has the potential to grow in stature with further viewing. I already love it more now than right after I saw it. The animation is a modern marvel, such as the energy-infused substance of the emotions’ bodies and the orb-filled labyrinth of Long-Term Memory. One random danger in particular seemed like an excuse for the animators to indulge in some visual fun, despite the fact that no kid will understand its cerebral implications. (I’m not sure I do.) Inside Out may not be Pixar’s funniest adventure, but there are still quite a few laugh-out-loud moments and imaginative silliness, such as a few unexpected movie references and the way that seemingly random gags come together ingeniously during the climax. It’s a stunning balance of humor, head, and heart.

As many critics have stated, there’s also a good deal of poignancy, particularly for parents recalling their children’s childhoods. While I don’t fit that category, I admire the presence of a close nuclear family and was still touched deeply by a certain selfless act toward the end. I have a long and storied history of crying at animated movies, from Tarzan to Brother Bear, but few films can extract a tear from me anymore. Inside Out did, and that made it a special experience for me. After watching the film, I was left with the pensive, bittersweet glow of a film worth seeing many more times. My Joy and Sadness must have been holding hands. Thank you, Pixar. It’s good to have you back in force.

Best line: (Fear) “We didn’t die today; I call that an unqualified success!”

Rank: List-Worthy

© 2015 S. G. Liput
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Tribute to James Horner

25 Thursday Jun 2015

Posted by in Movies, Music, Poetry, Reviews, Writing

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The world of movie music lost a great composer on Monday, June 22 when 61-year-old Oscar winner James Horner became the lone victim of a California plane crash. Since I’ve been listening to a lot of film scores lately, his death came as quite a shock to me. His music touched so many movies and their viewers, and he will be greatly missed. Rest in peace, Mr. Horner, as well as other recent cinematic losses, including Sir Christopher Lee, Dick Van Patten, Ron Moody, and Patrick Macnee.
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Your compositions made the movies grander than they were before.
We cried and smiled; all the while, you were present keeping score.
Your music was a character, invisible but always heard,
And moved the hearts of audiences, oft without a single word.

With Kirk and Spock, you battled Khan, and then with Ripley battled worse.
You helped to build a baseball field and make the Grinch’s heart reverse.
You launched to space, and sought a trace of missing children tucked away,
Survived a magical board game, if not a nuclear delay.
You marched to battle with Daikinis and the valiant 54th,
With Trojans, Navajos, Cristeros, and the Scots to England’s north.
With Russian mice, you emigrated; with a jet pack, saved the nation;
Found cocoons, and shrunk the kids, and morphed into an illustration.
You joined with hackers and Jack Ryan, fishermen and dinosaurs,
With androids, Fix-Its, apes, and Zorro, Ludlows, and Pandora’s wars,
With ghosts and faeries, housing feuds, and schizophrenic geniuses,
And grand Titanic’s tragic voyage. These adventures too were his.
Hearts will go on, like your music, every listener a mourner
And a witness to the talent of the late, great Mr. Horner.

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(For those who don’t recognize all of the above references, they include many of the best-known films he scored: Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan; Aliens; Field of Dreams; How the Grinch Stole Christmas; Apollo 13; both The Forgotten and Flightplan; Jumanji; Testament; Willow; Glory; Troy; Windtalkers; Cristiada/For Greater Glory; Braveheart; An American Tail; The Rocketeer; Cocoon (and its sequel); Honey, I Shrunk the Kids; The Pagemaster; Sneakers; both Patriot Games and Clear and Present Danger; The Perfect Storm; both The Land Before Time and We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story; Bicentennial Man; *batteries not included; both Project X and Mighty Joe Young; both The Mask of Zorro and The Legend of Zorro; Legends of the Fall; Avatar; Casper; The Spiderwick Chronicles; House of Sand and Fog; A Beautiful Mind; and, of course, Titanic, which won him his two Oscars for Best Original Score and Best Original Song.)