This Beautiful Fantastic [2016)

I must admit, I didn’t expect this film to be good.

At all.

Indeed, the thumbnail seemed to indicate that Elizabeth Hurley was the star.

And so this makes two recent movies for which the adverts capitalized on the similarity of their leading ladies to actresses more famous than themselves.

But I am thankful.

Because Elizabeth Hurley could never have pulled this off (though she be a completely competent actress).

No.

This Beautiful Fantastic needed a magic beyond its worldly resources.

And Jessica Brown Findlay brought that magic.

Which is not to say that Simon Aboud did not do a fine job directing our film.

He most certainly did.

One might say this film is about gardens and gardening.

And in a way, it is.

But it is much more about love.

Loss.

Awkwardness.

Work.

Bad luck.

Innocence.

Purity.

Friendship.

OCD.

Introversion.

Jerks.

Coping.

So many strands.

Tom Wilkinson is fantastic here.

But Andrew Scott is equally good.

Wilkinson grounds this production.

Scott is perhaps the prodigy.

Brown Findlay is some pure substance which elevates everything.

She needs these two actors.

But they need her as much if not more.

Jeremy Irvine also has flashes of brilliance here.

I quite enjoyed this movie.

I’m thankful it exists.

So we must delve deeper.

We must admit that Brown Findlay’s lips are to this film as J. Lo’s ass is to Ali G.

Which is to say, Brown Findlay’s lips are almost an additional actor here.

They have a life of their own.

You might call this poor fetishism, but it needs must be said.

These are on par with those of Angelina Jolie.

But there’s a difference.

Brown Findlay’s lips are not freakishly large.

And yet, they draw the eyes.

One cannot look away.

They are always the quivering point of focus in this gossamer production.

Which is also to say, Brown Findlay is really really beautiful.

That is a factor in and of itself.

I seldom say this about any actress.

But it almost goes without saying here.

She is freakishly beautiful.

By which, we mean, breathtaking.

Natural.

Astounding.

And a damn fine actress!

 

-PD

Idiocracy [2006)

Here is a must-see film.

Hear me out.

A movie that didn’t even make a million dollars at the box office.

13 years ago.

A very prescient take on America.

From the dude who gave us Beavis and Butt-Head.

I was lucky enough to meet Luke Wilson years ago.

If I had to choose a favorite contemporary male actor, it would probably be him.

I am not a big fan of Maya Rudolph (at all), but she does well here.

Dax Shepard does a really good job here.

Jetskis in the reflecting pool of the Washington Monument.

President with Mountain Dew for a middle name.

A La-Z-Boy with a toilet in it.

Doctor Lexus.

Pictographs for sub-literate emergency room receptionist.

Gatorade coming out of water fountains.

Water has been phased out.

Not enough electrolytes.

Big box store gone badder.

Costco.

Starbucks is where you get hand jobs.

Showdown with Beef Supreme.

Welcome to Costco.  I love you.

Brought to you by Carl’s Jr.

Really, this film is very, very intelligent.

There are some priceless moments.

The automated Carl’s Jr. kiosk is one of the highlights.

So many amazing little details here and there.

I suppose it is a cult film.

And with good reason.

It is strange, but it is an essential film.

Kudos to Mike Judge.

 

-PD

The Matrix [1999)

I tried to make her understand.

I tried to tell her what she needed to hear.

I am still waiting.

Waiting for a sea change.

Assange is the superstar hacker.

Mendax.

QAnon lifted “follow the white rabbit” from this film.

Unless this film and the QAnon op stem from the same source.

Smith of 1984.

Turned.

Red-pill me on Tylenol.

LSD implications of Alice.

Mirror from Cocteau.

Keanu Reeves dips his fingers into Orphée (1950).

The Wachowski brothers have both now become trans women.

How fitting.

They are both (incidentally) married to women (Karin and Alisa).

From Walter Carlos to Wendy Carlos.

In which Neo wakes up in the “warm liquid goo” phase.

Brave New Fahrenheit 1984.

Baby farms of dystopia.

Elon Musk has been worried about the very premise of The Matrix.

Worried that his buddies at Google are creating for us the very hell foretold in this movie.

Really.

AI.

Pacified with free porn.

Zion of Joel Silver (producer).

With the “desert of the real”, we get Slavoj Žižek a few years later.

And one of my favorites:  Baudrillard.

Or vice versa.

Oracle like Oprah.

With cookies and everything.

Great acting by Gloria Foster who died in September 2001.

After 9/11.

And this film predates flying machines being swallowed by skyscrapers.

And mass shootings.

Indeed, Columbine kicked off a new era…a mere three weeks after The Matrix was released.

Hmmm…

Many kung fu rips.

It would be four more years before Tarantino began ripping kung fu with the first Kill Bill.

So The Matrix was first here.

A new Star Wars.

Luke Skywalker of Neo.

And the Holocaust chic costumes.

Schindler’s List set this up six years previous in 1993.

Kiss of life.

Great romance.

Sparks.

Channeling Bruce Lee the whole way through.

Great drum and bass tracks.

Cool soundtrack.

I can imagine Thom Yorke really getting into this shit.

The next Radiohead album after this film was the start of a new bleep bloop era.

Kid A.

And Carrie-Anne Moss is really pretty.

Good movie!

 

-PD

The Actors [2003)

Here’s a lovely movie which brings together many things.

An Irish film.

Directed by Conor McPherson.

Wherein Dylan Moran gets to assume a sort of Peter Sellers breadth.

English, Irish, Scottish.

Accents.

Well done.

And bloody fucking funny.

The best is the Scot.

Where Moran describes himself in apoplectic circumcision as “bordering on genius”.

To dissect:  Moran (an actor) playing an actor (!) who is then further acting (playing a Scot in a real-life scenario rather than on stage).

I’m not sure how confusing that is.

An Irish actor (Moran) playing the role of an Irish actor (a character in this film) is really not that farfetched.

But you see how circuitous this film is.

Yes, Dylan Moran is the best thing here.

You might know him from Black Books, but he is much better here.

Michael Caine is quite good here.

And Lena Headley is a nice foil to all this nerdy testosterone.

But Michael Gambon really steals the show from Caine.

Gambon who, like Moran, is also Irish really gives this picture the color it needed.

The bathos.

The absurdity.

The contrition.

The strangest star is Abigail Iversen who comes off as a sort of Greta Thunberg savant.

She was a dead ringer for the prodigy.

Strangely, Iversen (who is Icelandic) seems to have dropped off the map in 2003 after this film and one other.

Sure, perhaps this film is no masterpiece, but it is a lot better than the gobs of shite currently mucking up most of the Internet.

 

-PD

Sleeping Dogs [1977)

The year we were born.

My lady.

There are few things more odd and enjoyable than a New Zealand accent.

And few things more enjoyable than finally finding a decent movie after wading through piles of shit.

This is quite a good film.

And it starts off our survey of kiwi cinema.

Smith gets cucked, but he plays the Jesus figure at the end.

Profoundly weird.

Rebel without a reason.

The Wrong Man meets Godard’s Week-end.

Will we attack Iran?

And what about the “resistance” that Hillary’s loss spawned?

Sam Neill essentially plays Dennis Wilson.

Pacific ocean blue.

Operation Gladio.

Buried weapons caches.

This movie takes some really unseen plot turns.

Several WTF moments.

And the end we also get a bit of Jean Renoir.

“Boeldieu”, shouts Erich von Stroheim.

“Boeldieu!”

Dig through film history.

With me.

Lots of false flagging here.

Brenton Tarrant?

Not sure.

Real or fake?

Bloke had some odd travels, what?

Turkey.

North Korea.

Epic vomiting!

Fingers down throat.

Way to out-special New Zealand’s special forces.

Not a country particularly known for that.

Shaves his beard.

We pull for him.

Root for him.

Hitchcock’s mistaken identity foiled.

ANZUS.

1951.

Harewood Airport (Christchurch).

U.S. Antarctic Research Program (cover).

USAF Mt. John (Washdyke).

This was the intel as of 1974.

From a kiwi student newspaper.

Which segues into the communist guerrilla element of this film.

Which is to say, New Zealand probably did have some dumb fucks who wanted to fight the government.

AND…New Zealand (like most governments) probably has false-flagged when it’s convenient.

Thus we find out the meaning of Sleeping Dogs.

In a fucking motel.

Kiwi special forces driving Toyotas.

Warren Oates does a pretty great job here.

Godard might know him from The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond.

Smith (Neill) shows the idiocy of radicalization.

But also the sense that it makes.

Poor saps with bleeding hearts.

Just trying to do the right thing.

Just trying to preserve true justice.

In the face of dirty governments.

This movie does not disappoint.

For my money, it is better than Fitzcarraldo.

The RNZAF make sure of that.

Kudos to director Roger Donaldson on a job well done!

 

-PD

Big Nothing [2006)

We all want to solve crimes.

Except for those among us who want to commit them.

That observation could be repeated and reversed.

Perhaps we all want to commit crimes.

Except for those among us who want to solve them.

Which brings us to a rather confusing portion of the Venn diagram.

And David Schwimmer’s character would doubtless appreciate this method of presentation.

Oregon.

Get good Twin Peaks wafting.

Bad grunge lingering.

Schwimmer does quite well here.

We hate him at first.

Resent him for Friends.

But he grows on the royal we.

You see, I don’t have a lot of time.

Simon Pegg does well (as he always does), but it is rather grating to hear him speak in an “American” accent for the entirety of this film.

And so the real star here (I hate to admit it) is Alice Eve.

Her character is venal.

As they all are.

Rather disgusting.

But intriguing.

The most enthralling though is the above-mediocre writing of Jean-Baptiste Andrea (who also directed) and Billy Asher.

“breathing liquid shit”

Some genuinely inventive concepts here.

Very imaginative.

Florid.

A web of interlocking chaos.

Vigilante impulse arises.

We all want to rid the world of scum.

But we all share the scumminess.

It’s just that some pursue the scum instinct more than others.

And so our heroes (“Bonnie, Clyde, and Clyde”) are spurred on by a bit of fortuitous reaping.

This only serves to sink them further.

I must give credit to William Rosenfeld who does a nice job as the pivotal Deputy Garman.

This movie is, quite simply, powered by the unflagging inventiveness of lies.

Deeper and deeper into the pit.

Eve buries the hatchet.

YEs, this movie is abounding in death.

But it is watchable.

At least the story is compelling.

There are really some stellar plot twists here.

Phone rings in the trunk.

There are really some gruesome details here.

Why is America so brutal?

I know we don’t have a monopoly on violence, but…

We export simulated violence.

And yet, despite David Schwimmer, this is (believe it or not) a UK/Canadian coproduction.

Honorable mention to Natascha McElhone for making the most of a small role.

Also kudos to Jon Polito.

This could have been a great movie.

 

-PD

Ryna [2005)

I wanted to watch this movie for a long time.

Because of one of my favorite actresses.

Dorotheea Petre.

And this is a hard film to find.

So I want to give a shout out to tubitv.com for having it.

For free!

Yes, great website.

Check it out.

But I digress.

Back to Ryna.

A Romanian film.

Not as good a Cum mi-am petrecut sfârşitul lumii (The Way I Spent the End of the World [also available to watch for free on Tubi]), but worth a viewing.

Ryna is a hard film.

Set in the middle of nowhere.

Danube Delta (says IMDb).

It’s a sad story.

Feminist.

A good feminist film.

Rape (always lurking).

Directed by Ruxandre Zenide.

Romanian-Swiss.

The style reminds me of the Dogme 95 movement.

Like Harmony Korine’s Julien Donkey-Boy.

But even more harsh.

An unforgiving lens and a dry, dusty landscape.

Occasional muddy downpours.

Extreme poverty.

Very convincing acting.

Method.

Petre is the only actor who really stands out.

Her performance here is not as good as in Cum mi-am petrecut sfârşitul lumii, but it is very fine.

There are very few films available with this wonderful actress.

So this one is well worth watching.

 

-PD

Burke and Hare [2010)

Bad movie.

Very bad.

Scotland.

Pegg bad accent.

William Burke.

William Hare.

Murderers.

This film is about as painful.

Would imagine.

Murdering cinema.

A crime!

Maybe not bad accent.

Irish.

In Scotland.

Boring…

Jessica Hynes.

“SHAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!”

auauauauauauauaua

She’s alright.

Bad editing.

Bad writing.

BAD direction from good John Landis!!!

Bad acting from great Simon Pegg!

Isla Fisher.

Not bad.

Sacha Baron Cohen’s wife.

aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiight!

Ugh, Macbeth.

All-female version.

Edinburgh.

Great on paper–shite on film!

 

-PD

Pretty in Pink [1986)

Here’s another great movie.

Yes, Harry Dean Stanton is reading Finnegans Wake.

And Stanton is great herein.

But the real star is Jon Cryer.

Yeah, you heard me right.

Yes.

Molly Ringwald is a good supporting actress to Cryer’s amazing performance.

But really, it’s the clothing which rules this movie.

Cryer and Ringwald have excellent outfits.

It’s a cute film.

But let’s delve.

Duckie (Cryer) really does a great job here.

Annie Potts is pretty awesome as Iona.

AND ANDREW “DICE” CLAY IS IN THIS!!!

What?!?

Yes, the Dice knows how to light a cigarette.

That’s about the end of his screen time.

The lamest part is Ringwald and Andrew McCarthy ending up together.

It’s about as bad as Ally Sheedy’s transformation in The Breakfast Club and Emilio Estevez’s sudden fealty.

But other than that one slight detail, I highly recommend Pretty in Pink.

Put it together with The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles and you have John Hughes’ trio of teen masterpieces.

For although Hughes did not direct Pretty in Pink, he did write it.

Alternately, Hughes both wrote AND directed The Breakfast Club and Sixteen Candles.

If I had to pick just one, I would say The Breakfast Club is the standout gem.

But all three films are excellent and deserve further study.

They are true masterpieces whose value has not yet been fully recognized.

 

-PD

The Dictator [2012)

Blah blah.

My thoughts.

Movie blah.

Actually, good movie.

Very funny.

But still not Borat.

The Dictator is like self-parody.

Jon Spencer understands.

Blues Explosion.

I don’t want to write more.

What more can I say?

I need to watch the next film.

This is a different sort of urgency.

Not so much the impressionism of the past, but the mania of the present.

Film is to be enjoyed.

Fuck it!

 

-PD