David Simon's sleek adaptation of the Philip Roth novel is terrifying. It is a WWII alternate history Roth wrote during the George W Bush era, but it is painfully familiar in the Donald Trump era. America realized a version of Charles Lindbergh's fascist fantasy under Trump making it an especially timely adaptation. The first few episodes are a bit slow, but the finale is extremely intense. That drive to and from Danville, Kentucky is a masterclass in suspense. The 1940s production design is excellent. The actors are all great; I think Zoe Kazan is especially good as the Bess. From what I've read, Simon changed the perspective of the novel, which was originally told by older Philip (a stand-in for the author) remember his childhood. The show is rather third person omniscient, following the action of all the characters separately. It's more natural for a TV show, but it does feel like something is fundamentally changed by making it more impersonal. And the bleak ending of the show is more pessimistic. Now that we've lived through the Trump era and see that the racists have not gone away, Simon's ending is probably more realistic, appropriately cynical.
I am a student at Johns Hopkins with a passion for film, media and awards. Here you will find concise movie reviews and my comments on TV, theater and award shows. I can't see everything, but when I finally get around to it, you'll find my opinion here on everything from the classics to the crap.
Showing posts with label John Turturro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Turturro. Show all posts
Thursday, April 29, 2021
Monday, February 8, 2021
The Night Of (2016)
The word that immediately comes to mind is harrowing. It's just absolutely devastating. The first episode is especially tense. My fists were clenched the whole episode in dread and anticipation. The brilliance of The Night Of is that despite the mood of impending doom that pervades the whole series, there are moments of levity. Morgan drew a good comparison to the Good Wife, with its eccentric cast of recurring lawyers and judges (John Turturro is great fun). I think the obvious comparison is to When They See Us, also about the false accusation of a young man of color in the murder of a white woman and an ensuing look at the New York criminal justice system. He is first prosecuted in the media, and then he is forced to learn to adapt to prison life. Riz Ahmed is transformative as Nasir. He's one of the most exciting young actors today. The standard of proof in a criminal case is beyond a reasonable doubt. To me, there was plenty of room for doubt, but I was sure the jury wouldn't see it (Though the mystery is resolved by the end, it's never really about who did it. It's about whether the system will punish him anyways). I was expecting that kind of devastating ending. I was so relieved when the jury declared a mistrial and the prosecutor did the right thing. Her closing statement was rife with tension, unsure if she'd follow through on what she knew to be wrong. That said, the trial seemed unrealistic, but better for TV. It seemed like a lot of the discovery was unreasonably late, and the direct examinations sounded more like cross.
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
Gloria Bell (2018)
I am familiar with La Mujer Fantastica, which has a similar use of light and the same enchanting use of music. That was my favorite part. Gloria Bell is a remake of the Chilean film Gloria that I hear is exactly the same, frame for frame, song for song, same crew and all. I haven't seen the original but I don't really understand why this was necessary except as a vehicle for Julianne Moore. She is excellent and quite funny in a role that is rare for an actress of her age but that's beside the point. Did the director feel compelled to remake his own film in English? Is he saying something about universality? Was an American audience not willing to watch a more culturally specific movie? Are older white singles really into Earth, Wind and Fire?
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Do the Right Thing (1989)
Do the Right Thing is just as important and poignant today as it was in 1989. Obviously, nothing has changed. Race relations are still tense and police brutality is still rampant. This didn't all of a sudden come out of nowhere and Barack Obama was not a cure-all. Spike Lee sends a powerful message to America.
It's a scorcher. The coloring of the film is tinted a hot red. Everyone is feeling agitated and you feel it too thanks to the reds and oranges. You know that someone is about to erupt. But let's start from the beginning with Rosie Perez dancing the opening credits to an aggressively bold Fight the Power by Public Enemy. Her moves are sharp, sensual, expressive, and absolutely magnetic. It does not glorify violence. But it does beautify it--beauty and fighting are not mutually exclusive. Violence can be justified, it can be the titular right thing. It's a little more Malcolm than Martin.
Samuel L. Jackson is the radio host who acts as a narrator of sorts. We set the scene in Bed-Stuy on a street shared by African Americans, Puerto Ricans, a Korean grocery and an Italian pizzeria. This itself is beautiful. Not everyone necessarily gets along, but Brooklyn is such a uniquely American locale that all these different cultures could have the opportunity even to clash here. There is the very famous scene of the character staring down the barrel of the camera yelling racial slurs and insults. Even though they are pitted against each other, they are written in such a rich and complete way that the audience can empathize with all of them. We get it. We understand where they're coming from.
Spike Lee is a student of film. There is a very obvious allusion to Night of the Hunter directed by Charles Laughton. Radio Raheem wears LOVE and HATE knuckles and recites Robert Mitchum's monologue. Radio Raheem is perhaps the most symbolic character--his knuckles, his boom box (symbolic of his culture which he wears for all to hear unabashedly), and the ultimate fall of a strongman.
And I'd be remiss if I didn't address the ending. Does Mookie do the right thing? The privileged may see incitement of a riot. But that is wrong. Mookie starts an uprising. Think of the 2015 Baltimore uprising. An oppressed people rising up in self defense a la Malcolm X. Oppression: Why do the majority African American and Puerto Rican population not own any of the businesses on their street? They point out the Koreans are new immigrants and yet they somehow opened their own business. It's not personal. And we see in the final scene that Sal understands that. Sal feels betrayed, but he reconciles with Mookie. The movie is so powerful because it's so real. And it's so real because it is drawn from real society experience.
It's a scorcher. The coloring of the film is tinted a hot red. Everyone is feeling agitated and you feel it too thanks to the reds and oranges. You know that someone is about to erupt. But let's start from the beginning with Rosie Perez dancing the opening credits to an aggressively bold Fight the Power by Public Enemy. Her moves are sharp, sensual, expressive, and absolutely magnetic. It does not glorify violence. But it does beautify it--beauty and fighting are not mutually exclusive. Violence can be justified, it can be the titular right thing. It's a little more Malcolm than Martin.
Samuel L. Jackson is the radio host who acts as a narrator of sorts. We set the scene in Bed-Stuy on a street shared by African Americans, Puerto Ricans, a Korean grocery and an Italian pizzeria. This itself is beautiful. Not everyone necessarily gets along, but Brooklyn is such a uniquely American locale that all these different cultures could have the opportunity even to clash here. There is the very famous scene of the character staring down the barrel of the camera yelling racial slurs and insults. Even though they are pitted against each other, they are written in such a rich and complete way that the audience can empathize with all of them. We get it. We understand where they're coming from.
Spike Lee is a student of film. There is a very obvious allusion to Night of the Hunter directed by Charles Laughton. Radio Raheem wears LOVE and HATE knuckles and recites Robert Mitchum's monologue. Radio Raheem is perhaps the most symbolic character--his knuckles, his boom box (symbolic of his culture which he wears for all to hear unabashedly), and the ultimate fall of a strongman.
And I'd be remiss if I didn't address the ending. Does Mookie do the right thing? The privileged may see incitement of a riot. But that is wrong. Mookie starts an uprising. Think of the 2015 Baltimore uprising. An oppressed people rising up in self defense a la Malcolm X. Oppression: Why do the majority African American and Puerto Rican population not own any of the businesses on their street? They point out the Koreans are new immigrants and yet they somehow opened their own business. It's not personal. And we see in the final scene that Sal understands that. Sal feels betrayed, but he reconciles with Mookie. The movie is so powerful because it's so real. And it's so real because it is drawn from real society experience.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)