Don't Call It a Comeback

I was a bit overwhelmed on September 25^th as I made my weekly visit to iTunes (and, I admit, Pirate Bay). Yesterday saw the release of new records from Mumford & Sons, No Doubt, Green Day, as well as a stream of the new Muse record. The Killers and Grizzly Bear were released last week, and The XX is still seeing continuity in my record rotation. Next week we get Matt & Kim’s newest record, Lightning. Is this a freak accident, having most of the juggernauts of rock releasing albums all at the same time, or is this a statement to the general public unconsciously prepared by record labels?  

Not only did all of these releases unload on us at once, but also were met with critical and commercial success. The XX debuted at #1 in England, The Killers in the US; Mumford and Sons preorder topped the iTunes charts when made available, No Doubt’s Push and Shove, their first release since Rock Steady, was met with enthusiasm at a return-to-form as a ska-punk band with reggaeton roots. Yes, I’m conveniently sweeping over the critical and commercial tepid reception to Green Day’s Uno!, but that one seemed DOA as is. It also should be noted that fun.’s “Some Nights” is comfortably reigning Top-40 charts and is quickly becoming a barstool anthem. Are we finally seeing a return to the popularity of rock music?

Sure, it could be a fluke. Many of these artists are, arguably, the biggest active bands of 2012, particularly breakout hits Mumford and Sons. But seeing all of these artists trump Deadmau5, Pink, and Carly Rae Jepsen’s new releases affirms my suspicions that rock music might not be a dying breed as the media had suspected. People still want heart and soul, whether it is the Springsteen-like arena anthems of The Killers or the hearty folksy jingles of Mumford and Sons. It’s reassuring to know that, despite the reflection of the largely vapid Top-40 selections, the public is still drawn to getting some new raw rock music.

I can’t help but revel in the fact that there is still an appreciation for hard work and songwriting capabilities, knowing that not all great artists are going unrecognized. Sure, it isn’t about commercial success with many of these artists, but recognition. Seeing Bon Iver, for example, sell out 4 nights (shit, man!) at Radio City Music Hall and being held emotionally hostage with the entranced audience last Thursday was a cathartic experience. It’s a feat that his music, despite being relatively inaccessible, can still be appreciated by so many people for the haunting beauty that it embodies.

For a time it seemed that the world had capped out on rock stars. Most of the big ones were already established- Blink 182, Dave Matthews, Red Hot Chili Peppers and the likes- but with the recent explosion of Florence + The Machine and The Black Keys, driving rhythm and deafening arena shows are still in demand. The world is no longer wrapped up strictly in spectacle but in ability with performance, as evident by the wild crowds at Florence + The Machine and Bruce Springsteen’s performances this year. There’s a difference between a stage performance of a pop star and a rock band performing work they created and were inspired to write based on their own experience- the sincerity is evident. Ke$ha, for example, will doubtful perform her older non-singles with oomph, while Springsteen can still perform “Rosalita” with authenticity decades after he penned it.

My hope is that September 25^th, 2012 will serve as a wake-up call for the industry. Don’t call it a comeback because it’s always been here; rock music is here to stay. Give more up-and-comers a chance; these artists aren’t flukes, or the exception, they were just given a chance. The Gaslight Anthem, as evident by critical adoration of Handwritten, could be playing Metlife in 20 years with “National Anthem” as their “Thunder Road”. Of Monsters and Men or First Aid Kit could be the next Mumford if given the right opportunities. And god damn it, stop giving every Disney star more outlets for success than the guys busting their asses to make something new. 

Review: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

When speaking on Chbosky’s coming-of-age centerpiece, I’ll assume that many feel as sentimental about it as I do. It resounded with me, simultaneously feeling like a deeply personal diary of a real high school student and a retelling of my own life in the context of a more dramatic background. It felt less like a novel and more like a practical doctrine preaching “It Get’s Better” for all of those existing on the outskirts of the in-crowd. I was hesitantly enthusiastic about a film adaptation because too much could go wrong, whether the story becomes commercialized or loses sentimentality amidst an afterschool special presentation. The worst possible result was also the most likely one, which the film would be a hollow regurgitation of Chbosky’s dialogue without any of the heart that made it stick.

 I feel that the value of a well-crafted coming-of-age film is undervalued. As Charlie touches upon towards the end of the film, the teenage struggle may seem retrospectively ineffective, small struggles in the grand scheme of our lives, but in the moment they are pressing. For a film to be able to not only competently embody the afflictions of the high school student but make us feel them again is spectacular. Perks of Being a Wallflower deftly uses Charlie as a channel for our own pain and reminds the viewer of how extraordinarily real those feelings were in the moment and how said emotions could devastate. Each struggle that Charlie goes through feels so sincere and fluid, bringing freshman year vividly back into the frontal lobe of the viewer.

Not all the material is heavy, though. Perks invites us to share in the emotional vivacity of growing up, including its soaring peaks and subtle triumphs. The film, like any good teen movie, has standout moments that are celebratory and epic despite being grounded in relatively unextraordinary circumstances. Perks reminds us that our own lives can be cinematic and resounding despite not being peppered with unorthodox circumstances. Ordinary struggle is, when properly conveyed, just as magnificent as the most elaborate epic.

Special attention should be placed on Chbosky ably shaping the protagonists as rounded, complex individuals attended to appropriately. Charlie, Patrick and Sam all face different afflictions but are given appropriate attention to sympathize and fall in love with them. Regardless of whether or not we have gone through the experiences of the characters, we sympathize and identify with them thanks to incredible casting decisions and calculated character development. I admittedly fell head over heels for the eccentric scatterbrain Patrick (Ezra Miller), who exudes charm from the film’s get-go; it’s entirely understandable why Charlie is drawn to his bounding energy. Emma Watson brings fragility and naivety to the not-so-innocent Sam, a girl trying desperately to overcome her dark past. Last but not least is Logan Lerman as Charlie, fidgety and insecure but heartbreakingly adorable from the first to final frame of the film. He has solidified himself not only as a leading man but an all-too competent young actor with potential for longevity and diversity. I wouldn’t count Lerman out as a potential Oscar nominee- he maintains an Asperger’s  social alienation perfectly while attempting to break the barrier and let his friends understand how complex he is.

This generation needed a teen movie that spoke to the difficulty of alienation and depression whilst coming to terms with one’s identity. The 80’s had John Hughes, the 90’s had American Pie, we had Mean Girls to faun over for years, but no one has really taken the time to popularize the difference between teen angst and teen depression. Considering the onslaught of teen suicide and high school massacres, it’s about time someone acknowledged that certain struggles aren’t staples of growing up but are made worse when compounded with the complexities of development. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, like the book that preceded it, is an instant classic in it’s own right. It isn’t perfect; I had trouble being convinced that the characters were 14-17, and certain background characters felt underdeveloped. Nonetheless, during the pivotal scene in which Charlie proclaims, “in that moment, I swear we were infinite”, the film not only shows these kids feeling alive and free. As I sat in that theater, I swear, I felt infinite with the characters on-screen; reliving that breath-taking youthful spirit of just being in the moment. The movie’s ability to recreate that feeling is a marvel in itself.

Grade: A- 

My Top Picks Summer 2012

Lists may be generic and laborious to churn out, but it's also the most digestable way to get people to give a shit about what you're writing. Rather than assuming people read through my full reviews, this serves the nice purpose of cleanly reflecting on what came out in the past year, as well as how much I enjoyed a film relative to other films (I'm assuming something seems valuable if I rank it higher than, say, The Avengers, which everyone saw and can essentially agree was a kick-ass movie). So, filtering through the excess of mediocrity and overhyped popcorn movies, here were 5 awesome movies that I walked away loving for the summer.

5.) Moonrise Kingdom: This was the sleeper hit of 2012, establishing Wes Anderson as not only a cult darling but a critical and box-office success as well. This was easily his best film to date, retaining his distinctly dry pallet lived out through an all-star cast; an unlikely hit, but a crowd-pleasing one. It was slightly more accessible than its predecessors but didn't abandon that Andersonian flavor; in fact, it honed it in and made it feel, breaking the cold, evasive atmosphere of the previous films. His next will determine just how bankable his indie street cred has become, but I'm starting to see a little Woody Allen budding in Wes Anderson.

4.) The Avengers: Marvel's experimental phase one is complete, successfully platforming an ensemble piece rife with scene-stealers and iconic heroes into one of the best bubblegum action movies in years. Hilarious, relentlessly paced, cartoonish but still grounded, The Avengers was a weighty gamble that probably wouldn't have worked without the direction of Joss Wheadon and the foundational films to preceed it; the result is arguably the new standard for comic book adaptations.

3.) Safety Not Guaranteed: I got a bit of flack for my overwhelming enthusiasm of this one, but I'm firmly set in my stance on this unique coming-of-age/romantic comedy as the should've-been quirky hit of the summer. Aubrey Plaza finally is able to shake April Ludgate and demonstrate her strength and relatability as a leading lady. A fairly cookie-cutter romantic subplot doesn't derail the overall value of the film's message because it's so deftly conveyed with wit and youthful optomism.

4.) Celeste & Jesse Forever: Apparently it was the summer for Parks and Recreation supporting cast-members to get their due with this brilliantly penned anti-romance from Rashida Jones, which overflows with heartbreak, sentiment, and vividly realized relationships. Not to mention the Apatow-style humor hits a sincere rhythm here, particularly within the goofy yet tangible chemistry between Jones and Samberg. C&J is undoubtably this summer's (500) Days of Summer with the emotional vivacity of Garden State, a true contender to make the top of my end-of-year lists. The film was gutsy and had punch while remaining easily engaging, a true hidden gem.

1.) The Dark Knight Rises: As if I couldn't sing Christopher Nolan's praises enough, here's yet another piece where I admire the brilliance of his Dark Knight Trilogy. The conclusion was a fitting end to the greatest trilogy of my generation, a demonstration of the ability to create something that functions as art, homage, and crowd-pleaser. Despite not being universally acclaimed after following up The Dark Knight, TDKR is a calculated swan song that truly was the best that it could've been...which was ground-shakingly phenomenal.

Review: The Master

I’m about to make a potentially egregious comment on religion in reference to Scientology, the cult-like religion that’s been popularized with celebrity endorsement within the past decade. It really isn’t that different than other religions, with the exception of the establishment in the 21^st century and the fact that we can clearly point to the innovator and source of the religion’s scriptures. Before you sharpen your pitchforks, I am a practicing Catholic with an appreciation and fascination with other religions and their doctrines; but aren’t all religious stories a bit ridiculous when heard out of context? Scientology and its doctrine have been exceptionally scrutinized and lauded for seeming to be a page torn from a Star Trek fan-fiction novel. Nevertheless, it’s someone’s belief system, and had my religion (or any, for that matter) come to fruition in recent history, it would be mocked with equal fervor. 

This consideration was in the forefront of my mind while I strained myself through Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest, The Master. The film traces the birth of a new religion under the tyrannical, manipulative role of Lancaster Dodd, portrayed by Phillip Seymour Hoffman. After the conclusion of World War II, perpetual child Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) stumbles upon the cult-like organization and struggles to integrate himself into their pack despite vocal opposition from Dodd’s family members, particularly his wife Peggy (Amy Adams).

From the get-go we see Freddie is fucked up beyond repair. Presumably suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder as well as an evident stunted development, Freddie resembles a petulant seven-year-old prone to violent tantrums. He is also an alcoholic addicted to a myriad of substances, frequently mixing chemicals in with his drinks. Joaquin Phoenix is triumphant in his return to the screen but uncomfortable to watch, immersing himself even more in his role than in I’m Not There. Lancaster is drawn to him presumably because he sees someone who is easily manipulated; the film is a constant battle between the two, with Lancaster relentlessly attempting to enlist Freddie into the group. 

Like There Will Be Blood, The Master is a social commentary embedded within a psychological drama. The film is an expose on the collective conscious and the ease to manipulate, while studying a religion’s rise to prominence. One of the most haunting sequences involves Lancaster explaining to a layman the community aspect of the cult, describing that there is no leader within the organization. All the while, he demonstrates that he is convincing his followers that they have power and are free from his influence, a crafty way of keeping his followers close by implicating they have power over themselves. Lancaster is a wordsmith lacking substance, evident by his inability to persuasively verbalize the legitimacy of his religion. The followers continue to enrapture themselves and others within the organization by convincing themselves that they are having existential experiences led by Lancaster’s therapeutic sessions. 

Worse is the community molding their behavior around Lancaster’s; any naysayers are hushed with violent outbursts, not logical arguments about the organizations legitimacy. We are briefly given insight into Lancaster having sex with the female members of his church from the perspective of Lancaster’s wife; whose relatively jaded indifference (as well as that of the women) is stomach-turning. The blissful ignorance of the sexual abuse, portrayed in a jovial dance-hall sequence, is one of the most effective scenes of the film. 

But it’s one of many. The Master is an exhibition in form, a contemporary psychological drama made with an attentive grandstand detailing. The score is excellent, rising and falling exuberantly with the turbulent emotions onscreen, but rarely abandoning the film’s hollow, upbeat tone. The acting is superb, particularly the fragile friendship between the explosive Joaquin Phoenix and deliberate, teetering Philip Seymour-Hoffman. Amy Adams is understated but fulfills her role as the defeated wife adamantly defending her husband’s work.  Paul Thomas allows us to see everything on-screen through the eyes of Freddie; we buy into the warmth exuded from Lancaster and his family, his masterful manipulation of speech often wins our hearts, and a sympathetic understanding of his doctrine. There were many moments in the film where I felt the efforts of Lancaster were benevolent, that regardless of the legitimacy of his religion he was providing fulfillment for his followers.

This is what makes The Master work, the fearful realization that we are able to be subtly manipulated to make out-of-character decisions and justify that the reasoning was independent. The Master calls one to question one’s belief systems and how much manipulation we have encountered in our seemingly clear-minded decisions. It begs the identification of the Lancaster Dodd’s in our lifetime, and the potentially devastating affect they’ve had on our lives and our culture. 

I didn’t find it as satisfying as There Will Be Blood; the industrialist epic benefitted from the slow unraveling of the oil mogul’s nerves, cumulating to emotionally explosive and unforgettable scenes. The Master lacks any distinguished development of character; arguably, no one changes throughout the feature. There are moments when the screenplay crackles and the intense interaction between characters pops, but nothing ever gets out of control. I was also expecting a revolutionary end scene to reap on the interpersonal struggles the film cultivates, but left wanting a bit more. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment as I watched, hoping the movie would emotionally skyrocket in forthcoming scenes. 

The Master is attentive to detail, thought-provoking, and sure to set off conversation well into the future. With this feature, Paul identifies the moral ambiguity of criticizing religion as well as following the path of a religious man. Paul Thomas Anderson is a great American storyteller as evident by his catalogue; hopefully next time around he hones in the emotional gravity appropriately.

Grade: B+

Off to the Races: TIFF 2012 Kicks Off Oscar Season

The Toronto International Film Festival has just closed, signaling the official start of award season speculation. Sure, it’s technically a year-round musing, but now we can do away with arbitrary rumination on what’s what for the upcoming season. With some of the biggest films of the year officially screened and devoured, all the stirrings in Hollywood are developing base. With that, I couldn’t be more excited as I begin to map out my 2012 screening schedule. 

For non-avid film enthusiasts, the importance of the Toronto Independent Film Festival may seem ineffectual compared to household names like South by Southwest and Sundance; still, TIFF has consistently hosted preliminary screenings for numerous Best Picture underdogs, including ‘Slumdog Millionare’ and ‘The King’s Speech’. TIFF not only provides a showcase for studios to flaunt award season bait, but also provides a buying grounds for independent gems to be swept up by larger distribution centers. Much like Sundance introducing larger audiences to ‘Beasts of the Southern Wild’, ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’, and ‘Compliance’, TIFF brings about its fair share of independent fan-favorites. 

If this year’s showcase has been any indication, 2013 may be the most gripping Oscar race since 2007’s showdown between ‘There Will be Blood’, ‘Juno’, ‘No Country for Old Men’, and ‘Atonement’. It seems that most of the emerging frontrunners have something either stylistically or contextually distinct to bring to the table, avoiding the pitfalls of award season clichés. Sure, there’s the shoe-in period pieces that get devoured contrary to public admiration, but this year’s choices ‘Anna Karenina’ and ‘Lincoln’ take a bit of a different approach. After director Joe Wright got his toes wet with the daring ‘Atonement’, ‘Karenina’ approaches the material with an audacious perspective of setting the film literally within an ever-changing stage. The results have been polarizing, with Wright distinctly acknowledging his actors as separate from the portrayed characters, but it’s undaunted decisions such as these that define revolutionary film-making. I have less hope for ‘Lincoln’, the more typical period piece embedded within the costly scope of a Spielberg epic, but the commanding lead of Daniel Day-Lewis gives leverage that ‘Lincoln’ may be Spielberg’s post-2000’s opus. 

Lest we not forget the return of shoulda-been award winner Paul Thomas Anderson, who helmed the sweeping and engrossing industrialist epic ‘There Will Be Blood’. His careful psychological study of the breakdown of the human psyche combined with apt ability to drive a story home is back with ‘The Master’. Already greeted with universal praise and record-shattering limited release box office reports, this seems to be the early front-runner. Combined with the backing of aggressive movie mogul Harvey Weinstein, it’s very possible that Paul Thomas Anderson could get his due and take home the top prize for the 2013 Academy Awards. 

Speaking of Harvey Weinstein, this seems to be another year where he holds a distinguished role in the race to the top. After dominating the media by pioneering a war against the MPAA, he took home the top prize for the festival with the biggest upset of the year, ‘Silver Linings Playbook’. Starring  Hollywood darlings Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence, this seemed to be more fluff than substance on paper. According to attendees, however, it’s brimming with emotional and satirical decadence, transcending its material to be a sincerely relatable piece. ‘Silver Linings Playbook’ is one of those rare big-named Hollywood comedies that could be a viable consideration in the race.

One of my favorite 00’s-era nominees was ‘Munich’, a gripping political thriller that was one of those rare movies that’s as entertaining as it is thought-provoking. This year we have two new politically charged thrillers; Ben Affleck’s ‘Argo’ and Katheryn Bigelow’s unconventionally timely ‘Zero Dark Thirty’. After demonstrating a shocking turn as one of the best action/thriller directors of late, Ben Affleck is finally achieving purposeful recognition for ‘Argo’ as more than just a surprisingly phenomenal mishap. Bigelow, who won the award for the arguably overrated ‘The Hurt Locker’ acquired the rights to the assassination of Osama Bin Ladin amazingly quickly, crafting a film relevant to the modern political climate. As well as the casting of Jessica Chastain, last year’s breakout bombshell, Katheryn Bigelow demonstrated that she doesn’t fuck around with this one.

Toronto doesn’t include every film for the race. Not to mention the omission of a phenomenal summer backlog in the race discussion, including ‘Moonrise Kingdom’, ‘The Dark Knight Rises’, and ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’, things are looking pretty tense for the best picture discussion. If the current media climate is any indication, and 2012 really is the end of the world, at least the film industry is going out in ostentatious style.