Tuesday 20 September 2022

Something Cult, Foreign-Language or Indie #310: Inside Job (2010).

 

Most people over age 20 would probably remember the global financial crisis; I'm 34 and I know I do. It was really the first time I ever took much notice of economic matters, despite my long-standing interest in politics. I just don't find economics or especially finance very interesting. But those matters both affect all of us for better or worse, and it turns out they can be explored engagingly after all.

Against all odds, Charles Ferguson's 2010 Best Documentary Feature Academy Award winner Inside Job proves that flawlessly. But how it does that trick is perhaps even more surprising and significant than that it does the trick: it explores the GFC and the fiscal lead-up to it in five segments, beginning with the aftermath of the Great Depression through to the late 1980s recession following Black Monday and how so many major American banks and investment firms gradually acquired too much unregulated power. They were at least as much at fault as the politicians who turned a blind eye to that corruption and their own, and when these banks and firms began fraudulently charging their customers and investors, the subprime mortgage bubble was bound to burst and the GFC was inevitable when, as the film demonstrates, it could've been avoided so easily. The true root of the crisis was the crimes on Wall Street, not of the White House (although the Bush Administration's bail-out efforts tanked infamously), and how those crimes either were covered up and/or went unpunished.

But Ferguson also explores this territory with genuine panache; I suspect he knew this was a very important story but one covering what most people must find a very dull subject and so he takes a very methodical yet energetic directorial approach and simultaneously deconstructs the very complex factual material therein for viewers who mightn't be financial experts, but never patronisingly. He even also takes a rather Michael Moore-esque approach at times with the use of (relevant) pop music and extensive use of archival news footage, and a helpful narration which Matt Damon, one of the most famously politically vocal Hollywood stars, delivers with appropriate objectivity. The result is an illuminating, confident, angering, unbiased and even stylish expose of how corrupt  and fraudulent decisions and agreements made in corporate boardrooms on the other side of the world can create negative ripple effects which, just economics itself, trickle down to the rest of us and, this time, unfortunately did. 9/10.

Friday 16 September 2022

Something Cult, Foreign-Language or Indie #309: Electrick Children (2013).

 

Rachel McKnight (Julia Garner) has just turned 15 and is a member of a Mormon group in rural Utah so fundamentalist they're borderline Amish. One night she listens to a cassette player for the first time and hears a cover of the song "Hanging on the Telephone." Her more obedient brother Mr. Will (Liam Aiken) confiscates the player now, saying it is only to be used for God's purposes, but when Rachel then discovers she is pregnant, she believes she has conceived miraculously like the Virgin Mary, through the cassette player. Once their parents inevitably find out, Mr. Will is blamed for impregnating Rachel and asked to leave the community and Rachel is told she will entered into a shotgun marriage the next day at the insistence of her father Paul (a jarringly miscast Billy Zane). That's when she flees to Las Vegas with an initially unsuspecting Mr. Will, who's asleep in the back of the family's truck in which she drives there. Once they arrive in Vegas, Rachel is all about freedom and adventure while Mr. Will tries to make her return home before reluctantly giving in, and then they meet Clyde (Rory Culkin) and his gang of skater mates, who broaden both Rachel's and Mr. Will's horizons.

This 2013 debut from writer-director Rebecca Thomas, who herself was raised Mormon, initially shows promising signs of subversion and originality, but then increasingly indulges in tameness and a flurry of coming-of-age narrative cliches. Rachel and Mr. Will's Vegas adventures see them (involuntarily, in Mr. Will's case) explore sex and substance abuse, but themes like that don't alone make a movie daring IMO and especially not when they're depicted in such a tactful but soft-core manner. There's also very little humour here to spice it up and not enough of a contemporary music soundtrack to add energy to it. Garner gives a beautifully dignified and balance performance as Rachel and Aiken adequately makes Mr. Will the grounding, centrifugal force to her closet wild child, but Culkin really doesn't have much to do as the token unrefined love interest.

Maybe it was meant to be somewhere between wholesome and provocative, but it just didn't get that balance right and it certainly didn't feel fresh or imaginative to me. Electrick Children did not inject me with a shock. 6/10.

Something Cult, Foreign-Language or Indie #308: The Machinist (2004).

 

Trevor Reznik (Christian Bale) is a factory machinist with such a bad case of insomnia he hasn't slept in a year, and it's left him dangerously emaciated. His appearance and behaviour are already alienating his co-workers, who turn against him fully when he's involved in an accident where one of them, Miller (Michael Ironside) gets his left arm caught in the machinery and loses it. Trevor is blamed for the accident but claims a co-worker named Ivan, who nobody else sees or even knows of, distracted him. Privately, Trevor finds romance with prostitute Stevie (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and waitress Maria (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon), who works at an airport diner Trevor frequents, and he absorbs himself in classic Russian novels, but none of these refuges can solve his mounting paranoia and continued lack of sleep.

The Machinist intends to lift the veil on insomnia, and the resultant paranoia, at their most extreme, and that's territory too infrequently explored in mainstream cinema. But while Bale's commitment to his role (he lost over 28kg for it) pays off with a dynamite performance, and Scott Kosar's screenplay is empathetic and unflinching, everything else here is, I think, misjudged and even timid, and that's all because of Brad Anderson's direction. How he visualises this narrative simply feels much too static, detached and conventional for a thriller overtly about paranoia. Where a considerably more unsubtle approach would, I think, have more powerfully conveyed Trevor's mental state, the result of the approach Anderson instead took struck me as blandly suspenseless and even indifferent. It reminded me somewhat of David Fincher but mind you, I've never liked any of his movies either. Plus, Roque Banos' score is so understated it may as well not even be there.

Overall, this Machinist is very played, but I think his machine needed cogs of an entirely different kind. 6/10. 

Thursday 1 September 2022

Something Cult, Foreign-Language or Indie #307: Lean on Pete (2017).

 

Charley Thompson (Charlie Plummer) is 15 and lives with his single father Ray (Travis Fimmel), and soon finds casual work caring for a retired racehorse named Lean on Pete, whose owner Del (Steve Buscemi) is a hot-tempered man who nonetheless sees something in Charley and takes him under his wing. When Ray is then attacked and hospitalised with life-threatening wounds, Charley insists on staying at his side but Ray implores him to instead focus on his work with Pete and Del. Then, after Ray dies and Charley learns Pete is to be taken to Mexico to be slaughtered, he clandestinely steals Pete at night and takes him to Wyoming in Del's truck to live with Charley's Aunt Margy, the only mother figure he has ever known.

I'm sorry, but between his 2015 effort 45 Years and this, could writer-director Andrew Haigh be any duller as a filmmaker? I'm starting to feel like his movies should come with a defibrillator for the viewer to jolt them into vivaciousness with. His style is not slow; it is utterly glacial and maybe even worse than that. A movie being slow-paced is fine, provided (IMO) it still have some semblance of variety and suspense, but so far I'm sensing none of either of those qualities in Haigh's work. However, in fairness, I managed to sit through all of Lean on Pete; 45 Years alienated me after 30 minutes. 

It's an adaptation of a novel by Willy Vlautin and maybe my frustrations with the languid plot are largely his responsibility instead of Haigh's, but I still think Haigh should've brought a bit more energy and, again, suspense, to how that narrative was told. Plummer makes an adequately relatable protagonist in an understated turn and Magnus Joenck's photography is lucid and precise, but those were the only pros I noticed here and James Edward Barker contributes an awfully uninspired and flat score. Overall, I wouldn't recommend you Lean on Pete because the story he's in, and how Haigh tells it, could make you nod off. 5/10.