American Animals

I almost didn't see this flick- the promos struck me as some kinda slick, flashy, whiz bang showman showcase for a lot of nothing that-just-wasn't-there. Turns out... this one is most definitely headed to my Top Ten All Time Flick List! We get to kick back, laugh and squeam as youthful ambition and American dreams disintegrate into one cataclysmic, life altering nightmare for all involved.

I love movies where the most simple of obvious plans progressively unravels at every possible and unforeseen moment, devolving from: bad, to worse, to how on god's green earth was I ever so dang stupid to believe something so completely and utterly insane!? Even in my rather bland and uneventful existence, there has been more than one desperate situation where... if I could only turn back the hands of time! This unlikely journey of thieves and millionaire aspiring incompetents is further enhanced by the the equally simple fact that- it actually happened...

Director Bart Layton masterfully intercuts real life interviews with the actual participants throughout the course of the movie. This could have been used as ineffective filler, instead, it serves to: effectively offer insight into the logic and rational employed by the principals (think Rashomon),  increase the anxiety in you the viewer as to what's to come, and incrementally heighten the already peaking level of unreality! 

No, there is no happy alternative ending to this rather hilarious tale of cascading woe and ineptitude. Lives were ruined, real people suffered, and I couldn't help reflect how I also committed acts at that age that, while certainly not at that level of severity, were every bit as- selfish... and I-didn't-have-a-clue.

For The Love Of Movies

I love 50's B&W film noir, the whole nether world of dames and gams (legs of the former), peepers (private dicks) and screws (prison guards). Ninety percent of the TV I watch is easily from 2 channels, PBS and a local channel that shows film noir on Thursday nights. Problem is, there's only so many of those celluloid wonders- and they sure don't make 'em like that no more... 

Somehow, I read up on a movie called Dragged Across Concrete (currently streaming on Netflix). I was going to embed the official trailer, but it makes it look like a dumb ass, Grade B, cop buddy, action movie. And it gets worse, it also has... Mel Gibson, yeah, the one and only, as if there's any other. And sure enough he's accused of abusing a suspect and proceeds to whine. So I'm about to put an end to it early on when I say to my self- why would Michael Jai White be in a movie that okays police abuse? The same reaction I had when I first heard Bill Burr- oh great, another middle aged White guy yelling and complaining. No, thanks. So why were there videos of Black guys laughing uproariously at his standup? So I watched on... 

Gibson mercifully under acts and has good chemistry with costar Vince Vaughn. And rather than simply going into reactionary Dirty Harry territory, it gives a pretty contemplative reflection on race, politics and the trials and tribulations of life in general. There's some serious violence for sure, but action movie it is not. If you liked A Simple Plan and American Animals where easy-peasey rapidly cascades into all hell breaks loose, chances are you'll appreciate this particular tale of woe and topsy turvy happenstance.

While I'm at it, wanted to see Oppenheimer recently, got online to get my seat (forget first come/first serve at your local googleplex these days) and was absolutely gobsmacked at the prices for a simple goddamn movie at your local movie theater- $25 and a $2.50 service fee! $27.50 for a goddamn movie!?! Ya gotta be shittin' me...

Fortunately, I was able to see it for $12 at one of the few (very few) remaining smaller, movie theaters in town. How does Hollywood expect to revive a movie going public at $25+ a pop?!?

Uncut, Uninterested...

I love movies where people find themselves over their heads, waaay over their heads- flicks like A Simple Plan and American Animals. So I was all up for Uncut Gems with Adam Sandler...

Don't get me wrong- Uncut gems is definitely well made, well acted, and the pacing... the pacing is a New York minute on a speedball laced with Meth! And as if the lunatic freneticism of the film's pacing wasn't enough, the only time people stop screaming in the movie is to inhale enough oxygen to yell and scream louder and faster. That said, I could tolerate all of it, if only I could empathize with main protagonist Howie- a New York City 47st jewelry dealer, hustler and thoroughly deranged gambling addict. And addict he is, not giving a damn about his family, his children or anything else in life save the next BIG bet! 

I avoided and despised self absorbed, self promoting Blowhards like Howie long as I lived in New York- and look upon them none the kinder 20 years and 3,000 miles away today...

ADDENDUM: I was hesitant to include this previously, but I really can't leave it unmentioned- particularly now that I've confirmed one aspect... One can't help but notice Sandler's fake teeth, and one can't help but wonder how that doesn't play into stereotyping the exaggeration of certain physical features and characteristics by which Jews have been historically caricatured. It was also more than a tad unsettling to see Kevin Garnett depicted as the pro Black athlete who after years of practice, training, etc to become a superstar... comes to believe his court Mojo is mysteriously controlled by a 'magical' rock- really?

Wind River

Quite simply, Wind river is one of the better movies I've seen in some while. Jeremy Renner excels when playing the reserved and introspective protagonist who rises to the occasion, and here, he's most effectively set against the quite beauty and ever present danger of the wilds of Wyoming- in particular, in the territory of the the modern day res. And all these factors play major, contradictory roles as they compete for some manner of meaningful coexistence: the magnificence of the wild, versus the wild extremes of mankind. The story is straightforward enough- who killed the woman in the middle of nowhere? But solving the mystery unravels a whole world of hurt involving personal relationships and the age old rivalries between peoples, authorities, and the very land that sustains and threatens them all. 

The movie moves methodically as histories and boundaries are introduced and alluded to, a lingering threat always within reach, like the wild animals that still roam about. And just when one thinks they have the ebb and flow of the narrative figured... all hell breaks out in a shoot out that makes Reservoir Dogs look so utterly contrived, you're left wondering how such tranquil beauty can exist there at all!

Walking out, my wife turned to me and remarked how she's getting tired of having White men always save the day on screen, I remarked that at least in this one, their complicity was not... whitewashed. Or as Renner's character remarked, "Quiet and emptiness is all we've left them, and you even want to take that away."

The ending credits also alludes to the wave of disappeared and murdered Native American women that continues unabated throughout North America... 

Two Photographers With A Message

Photo: Dana Lixenberg

Many moons ago while talking photography with an African American friend, we got to discussing the ethics of photographing the down and out- something I continue to consider, reconsider and reevaluate to this very day. I was considerably more hard edge back then- hell, people get themselves into the positions they're in, they make their own choices in life, blah blah, blah... had it all figured out. 

My friend countered with- "Why would you want to take a photo of a brother when he's down, ain't there enough of that already out there?" At the time I took it as if he wanted to ignore and sugar coat the reality of life- as opposed to "look it in the eye and show the truth no matter what" me. But with growing maturity, I began to see the strengths of his argument, and the arrogance and ignorance of my own. Although Hispanic, I did not grow up in the inner city the majority of my life- and although about as low as lower middle class can possibly get, still enough to come from a place of relative privilege.

For a long time running, there has been a certain "reality" that has been readily depicted and accepted: inner cities = minorities = drugs = crime = violence, etc, etc... And that's the kind of limited equation that formulates prevalent, racist mind sets that readily dismiss "those people" as... "animals." And it's a damn easy way to (not) think, as someone looking from the outside in.

I'm not going to go into all the reasons why poverty, crime and inner cities exist and intertwine as they do- not going to go into why: red lining, sub prime loans, food deserts, racial profiling, inadequate health care, schools and housing all go into creating these nightmares long before people are even born to make their (already purposely limited and predetermined) choices. I've done that elsewhere, as I've also made the case for personal responsibility- and it's not a particularly easy line to draw, one requiring generous applications of both hemispheres.

What I am saying, what I think my friend was saying- is that there is also a need for a certain degree of balance. The evils inherent to inner city life have now been laid apparent to those who have never even set foot, from: Eugene Richards, to The Wire, to the daily news which tend to make them pretty damn evident. But to the day, we're never quite equally furnished with the: images, modus operandi and perp walks of the White collar criminals who help create and finance those illegal activities from top down.

So yeah, hats off to a coupla (White) photographers who didn't fall for the immediate stereotypical "gritty, real life" photos of drugs, guns and crime, that faux and envied notion of earning themselves their requisite notch of perceived hardcore photo, street cred. These two photographers ditched the obvious to put in the time, maturity and effort to come up with something much more grand, balanced and nuanced- something that speaks to the complexities of life itself, regardless the time, place or people...  Such is the work of Dana Lixenberg and Matt Eich. The former's unpretentious, slice of life portraits hearken back to August Sanders monumental celebration of those not accustomed to such attention, while Matt Eich  presents us with intimate moments of the everyday, both big and small...

Photo: Matt Eich

Puerto Rico Gets Trumped (Again)

Trump has not only not activated the military in bringing relief to Puerto Rico but he has actually impeded the possibility of other, private relief efforts arriving there. But what can one expect of this America First blowhard who imported Polish workers to demolish Bonwit Teller (so he wouldn't have to hire American workers at a living wage) to make room for his towering monstrosity on Fifth Ave? Puerto Rico has always been a convenient backyard for whatever The United States wanted to do with its: land (much of its most arable land was commandeered by the military), its labor and resources (corporations based there traditionally sent their profits directly to the mainland for decades- after first getting ridiculous tax incentives), or its people. 

Now, after recently being made to look like their financial predicament was totally and completely their own undoing, they are left to beg like animals on a deserted island, instead of citizens of the most powerful country on earth... My 90yr old mother is one of those awaiting his munificence.

Addendum: It only took a week of misery and suffering!