But Dunkirk is a war movie, and an epic one at that about the miraculous evacuation of the British Army off the beaches of the French port town of Dunkirk, after the Nazis stormed France and the Low Countries in the early, dismal days of WWII. And I bloody hate war movies.

Why? Well, there’s a few main reasons. First and foremost, they always make me feel so much less heroic, which Dunkirk also excels in. Nolan sets his unsteady, take-you-into-action camera on three main storylines: by land, by air, and by sea — each replete with heroes of the highest might. There’s the pilot (Tom Hardy) whose gas gage becomes a ticking clock to ramp up the plenty-high-already stakes, but that doesn’t stop him from bearing down on German bombers in some of the best dogfighting footage since Mav.

“But the biggest reason I hate war films, and one that Dunkirk nails, is they just make me feel so damn sad about the nature of man. How the hell could my fellow man allow things to get so out of hand? Though Dunkirk is visually stunning and, continuity issues aside, a finely crafted film, I found it impossible to stay in the story without thinking about how such death and destruction got started in the first place.”

Then there’s the civilian boat captain (Mark Rylance) and his two boys, who set sail across the channel along with an armada of fellow non-military vessels, hulls full of life vests for the boys left stranded on the beach of France, with German guns and Luftwaffe planes all around. And finally, there’s the men on the beach, both the grunts and the officers, trying to stay alive and help others live throughout a desperate situation. So yeah, heroes all around, except for this one, of course, sitting in the theater thinking of things nitpick about.

But Dunkirk doesn’t just hit that hated war movie trope, it also ticks the haunting-my-nightmares box, too. Have you ever dreamed of drowning to death? How ‘bout burning to death? How about having to choose as you’re beneath the burning sea? Yeah, Dunkirk is that kind of terrifying. But, thankfully not nearly as gory as many war films, which is one the biggest issues I usually have with them. All. That. Blood. Yeah, I get it, war is hell, and you’re going for veracity. But we’re talking about me here, and I’m a pussy. Fortunately, though Dunkirk goes a long way towards making me feel like I’m doing nothing with my life, at least it generally doesn’t make me feel queasy while doing so.

But the biggest reason I hate war films, and one that Dunkirk nails, is they just make me feel so damn sad about the nature of man. How the hell could my fellow man allow things to get so out of hand? Though Dunkirk is visually stunning and, continuity issues aside, a finely crafted film, I found it impossible to stay in the story without thinking about how such death and destruction got started in the first place. Sure, Hitler took death and destruction to new lows, but he was very much a product of the world that made him. Throughout Europe’s history, and civilization’s really, it was just one people trying to eliminate another, rape their women, take their land, and enjoy the new view. What was Hitler doing differently? Other than using more vile means? The ends remained the same. And that’s just goddamned depressing, as Dunkirk thoroughly reminds me.

Even when you think about Churchill’s speech, which ends the film (but is also in the trailers, so I guess it can’t really be a spoiler), you get the sense that war will always just be: “We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender…”

Alas, Dunkirk gives no pretense of hope, except for maybe in the black and white, good guys vs bad sense of things. But though you might dread being reminded about the horrors of war as much as I do, I suppose a film like Dunkirk also helps you realize we’re duty bound to acknowledge such horrors exist. To shake us from our more enjoyable pop-culture distractions, and remind us that life is fragile, and never guaranteed. Still, as far as entertainment goes, I’ll take escapism every time.

The post Dunkirk: Death Everywhere and No Pretense of Hope appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Perhaps I didn’t have enough coffee, and was a little sleepy before heading to the theater for the epic conclusion of the Planet of the Apes reboot trilogy (nominally)—that started with the surprisingly great Rise of the Planet of the Apes directed by Rupert Wyatt, and was followed in gripping fashion by Matt Reeves’ Dawn of the Planet of the Apes. But I suspect that perhaps there’s more to it than just my tired eyes.

“Even having seen the last two Apes flicks, I was fairly confused early on as to where we were, and what was happening, and more importantly, why I should care – I mean aside from the fact that I’m an animal lover.”

Director Reeves is back for War, too, and there’s no doubt he’s at home in the incredibly realized world, which finds genetically enhanced genius ape leader, Caesar (motion-capture performance wizard, Andy Serkis), just trying to keep his clan safe and free from humans, and unable to do so because of Crazy Colonel Woody Harrelson’s angry army of ape haters. But I wonder if maybe Reeve’s familiarity, and his belief that others are familiar as well, is a detriment to the film as a standalone piece of entertainment.

Even having seen the last two Apes flicks, I was fairly confused early on as to where we were, and what was happening, and more importantly, why I should care – I mean aside from the fact that I’m an animal lover. Those problems could very well be cleared up if you’ve got an good understanding of the set-up already, but not if you’ve got a memory problem, as there is definitely some catching up to do. Not to mention the story itself is kind of a slow burn, so if your brain isn’t working quickly enough, it may just fall behind and never catchup. And further weighing down the eyelids are the many subtitles you get to read when the apes are talking to each other – perhaps a record amount for a summer movie.

Still, I’m pretty sure the tissue will connect for me a lot more solidly upon not just a second viewing of War, but also Dawn. And judging by what others have said, I’m willing to invest that time to see if their right. Upon doing so, I’m pretty sure that I’ll agree with the vast majority of Tomato graders that with this final Apes installment, Reeves and company have accomplished something rare in the world of blockbuster franchises: an overarching story that makes you think, a lot, about the nature of man, of beast, and what it means to truly be evolved.

In recent years, I’ve left many a comic book movie and sci-fi epic belittling the writers for so many gaping, obvious plot points, that are so often just glossed over with mega set-pieces. It’s the thing I most deride about modern blockbusters. So I guess here I’m complaining about the very same thing I’ve been hoping for: a thinking man’s action movie. Just in this case, perhaps I could have used a bit more weight on the action side.

The post War for the Planet of the Apes Is an Endangered Species: A Smart Summer Action Movie appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

For an epic, sweeping sci-fi film, Arrival (now available for home viewing) begins with the very small world of a mother and her daughter. Well, that’s if you believe in beginnings. Or endings. Or linear time, for that matter.

Complicating matters, the world’s geo-political communication shuts down in the face of alien Armageddon. The fear of the other, around the globe and the universe, quickly pushes the pod-harbored nations to raise up arms against the visitors. To close the lines of communication and cooperation. To create more fear through isolation.

Celebrated linguist/translator, Dr. Louise Banks (Amy Adams) seems to be questioning as much during the film’s powerful opening montage, which begins with a shot of her rustic ceiling spooling above. It’s a shot that’s repeated often throughout Denis Villeneuve’s subtly stirring film. That it’s bookended by the disorienting shot is obviously no accident.

Such chronological chicanery is greatly ramped up by the time the zero-emission alien pods arrive on the global scene. 12 of them, each the size of a mountain valley, sporadically placed around the world – or so it might seem. But why are they there? Are they friend or foe?

As the world starts to unravel while faced with these frightening questions, U.S. Army Colonel G.T. Weber (Forest Whitaker) invites Louise and theoretical physicist Ian Donnelly (Jeremy Renner) to help provide some answers. To do so, they must speak with the aliens face to… well, it’s unclear, because they’re behind a safety partition, which divides their space pod ingeniously.

Not that you don’t get a good look at the aliens. Oh you do, after a thrilling build (nearly as thrilling as the slow reveal of the pods themselves). And they’re spectacular. Thanks to their aqueous yet gaseous nature, they’re some of the most fantastically realistic aliens ever portrayed. Sort of like octopus Ents who lost one limb along the way, who sound like humpback whales playing an electric didgeridoo. (I would totally see that band.)

Much of the film is spent in the pod, or the Army base established nearby, with Louise and Ian trying to build effective communication with the aliens (and each other, in a surprisingly well-integrated B-story). It turns out the question of “Why are you here?” is actually quite a complicated one. With even more complicated answers.

Further complicating matters, the world’s geo-political communication shuts down in the face of alien Armageddon. The fear of the other, around the globe and the universe, quickly pushes the pod-harbored nations to raise up arms against the visitors. To close the lines of communication and cooperation. To create more fear through isolation. It’s a powerful warning. That now, more than ever, we must find ways to communicate with the other.

Well, that’s if you believe in the concept of now.

I do. Which is why I believe Arrival is the Best Picture for right now. Because unlike many of the nominated films, which are either out of touch with today’s politics or just tell tiny, personal stories (albeit with universal themes), Arrival reaches far and wide for connection. And it achieves it, stylistically, sonically, and most importantly, as a complete story — albeit one without a beginning or an end.

The post Why Isn’t Arrival the Best Picture Front Runner? appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

“For the most part, they went hand in hand. For how can you grow up without learning, whether that’s useful information or not? Like Bodevan, I’m still not sure if all that book smarts really helps in this big bad world. But I know it makes life more rich, knowing that many truths exist.”

That’s the path Ben Cash (Oscar-nominated Viggo Mortensen) and his wife, Leslie (Trin Miller) seem to be taking at the film’s outset, choosing to raise their six children in the secluded depths of the great, green Washington wilderness, without technology, or formal education, other than the extreme home-schooling variety. With Leslie away being treated for bi-polar issues, the teaching falls upon Ben’s strapping shoulders – which he performs with Sensei-zeal – kind of like a combination of Robin Williams in Dead Poet’s Society (if he quoted more Noam Chomsky) and Burt Reynolds in Deliverance. For Ben’s kids, who don’t really know any other way, home is heaven on earth (it helps that they’ve learned that God is a man-made creation.)

When Ben takes his oldest son Bodevan (Ben and Leslie wanted all their kids to have wholly original names) for their semi-regular mail-collecting/arts & crafts-selling/re-gridding trip into town, they find out that Leslie has succumbed to her mental illness and finally committed suicide. And worse yet, that her rich father, Jack (Frank Langella) is planning on having a proper funeral back in New Mexico, a stabbing affront to Leslie’s Buddhist beliefs.

That’s when the film reveals itself as a true fish-out-of-water tale, as Ben is convinced by his children to go save mom from such a buried fate. So they pack up the family school bus, custom fit for the apocalypse, and head East, into the heart of Midwestern Capitalism. And so we get the requisite fun and games as the wild crew reacts to the rampant consumerism their parents tried to shield them from in the first place.

It’s this culture clash that brings up the most important question Captain Fantastic is really asking: is Ben truly raising his kids responsibly? Or is his dogmatic self-reliance antithetical to true community? Has he rejected society so much that his kids can never be a part of it?

The great gift and curse of my own life has been my education and upbringing. For the most part, they went hand in hand. For how can you grow up without learning, whether that’s useful information or not? Like Bodevan, I’m still not sure if all that book smarts really helps in this big bad world. But I know it makes life more rich, knowing that many truths exist. It’s a gift to have been raised differently, as a free thinker, trained to question what everyone else tells you is true. It’s also very tiring, to be so outside. Perhaps the great lesson of Captain Fantastic is that we can question everything about society, so long as we don’t question the existence of it. The real world is a real thing, and it can be a fantastic place, as long as you run it on your terms.

The post Express Your Personal Freedom With Captain Fantastic appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

“The film casts a lasting spell. As any good coming of age film should, it takes you viscerally back to your own innocence. A lot of that has to do with the enlightening storytelling, which conveys growth not just episodically, but through multiple narrators, often reading revelatory passages from feminist tomes of the day.”

And Billy Crudup.

First, let’s start with our barely-post-pubescent young boy, Jamie (Lucas Jade Zumann), skating his way through a confusing and fatherless existence in late ‘70s Santa Barbara. Jamie lives with his depression-raised-yet-modern mother, Dorothea (Annette Benning) in her old and in-constant-need-of-refurbishing home.

When Jamie stops listening to her, Dorothea employs the help of her renters — the handyman/mechanic/zen master William (Crudup); free and beautiful, Julie (Elle Fanning), who’s still-in-high school and celebrating the powers of her sexual liberation with everyone but Jamie; and afflicted Abbie (Greta Gerwig), a tortured artist with a keen eye for the impressively-hip Santa Barbara music scene.

The film casts a  lasting spell. As any good coming of age film should, it takes you viscerally back to your own innocence. A lot of that has to do with the enlightening storytelling, which conveys growth not just episodically, but through multiple narrators, often reading revelatory passages from feminist tomes of the day. The spell lingers all the more because of the sweeping cinematography, the airy score, and the many kisses of golden California sun. Combined with awards-worthy acting, the film subtly captures the magic in the mundane.

But for me, the music really sets 20^th Century Women apart. Upon listening to the soundtrack afterwards, you’re immediately taken back to a number of powerfully good scenes. Perhaps that’s because the music symbolizes the story, with age-old depression-era classics (Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman) discordantly juxtaposed against the nascent punk and glam rock movements of the day. It’s the friction between the old and the new that drives the movie, sonically exploring how our old values will adapt to such bold, new times.

While the soundtrack surely rocks, there’s much more to the film to make it one every 21^st Century Man should see. Former Beasties Boys album cover designer Mike Mills (Beginners) wrote and directed the film, based upon his own experiences growing up. it’s told from a male point of view, one shaped by strong, thinking, powerful women. If you’ve never had such an influence in your own life, get one. And start with these three. The movie (and life) prove it’s absolutely essential to becoming a strong, thinking, powerful man.

The post 20th Century Women Is Definitely One for the Men appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

“If you’re going to tell a story,” he growls at Ewan McGregor’s startled scribe, “come at it with some attitude.”

And Miles Ahead—for better or worse—does approach the tale of Davis’ brilliant, often chaotic life with appreciable amounts of attitude. Cheadle delivers an exhilarating performance as the the Prince of Darkness, who’s seen mostly in an imagined maze of gunfights, gangsters and car chases crafted to convey the fantastic, frantic pace of his music.

And overall, it’s an interesting strategy.

The initial shots are claustrophobic enough to make viewers cough from the foreboding aura of cigarette smoke which envelopes Davis, and seemingly mirror the drug-addled, reclusive state where we first find him. Between the struggle to retain, and then reclaim, his latest master tape, there’s a manic motion and rich, visual poetry to the film, particularly during a tense boxing match sequence where Davis catches a younger version of himself performing. 

That said, fans looking for a traditional take on the life of the man behind the horn will be better served by reading Miles: the Autobiography.

Structure-wise, Miles Ahead is far closer to Jacob’s Ladder than it is to Ray. There’s nothing about Davis’ upbringing in Illinois, his parents, or his introduction to music. We feel his love—and the crackling strain of that love—to his first wife Frances, but never to get to see him pick up a horn for the first time. We don’t see him meet bop luminaries like Charlie Parker or Dizzy Gillespie. We don’t see a cocaine-fueled Davis crash his Lamborghini Miura and break both his ankles—which is something Cheadle and co-writer Steven Baigelman wouldn’t have had to invent.

For many fans, what might prove most disappointing is the gun slit-view we get of Davis’ extraordinary, groundbreaking career. The precision of his notations with arranger Gil Evans during the Sketches of Spain sessions, where we feel the orchestral majesty of “Concierto De Aranjuez (Adagio),” is one of the film’s most powerful moments, but there aren’t any others like it in the film.

To watch Davis improvise the soundtrack to French director Louis Malle’s classic Elevator to the Gallows would have been magnificent, and we get barely a glimpse of his Birth of the Cool-era genius, in favor of the more challenging sorcery of efforts like Live-Evil. But Miles Ahead is an attitude-laden portrait of a man possessed with legendary attitude, even if it might treat too close to “don’t meet your heroes territory.”

Catch it on the big screen if you can.

The post ‘Miles Ahead’ is an Interesting, if Incomplete Portrait of a Jazz Genius appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

First – the film. Spectre is heavy on the action and drinking, but light on the womanizing and jokes. Not terribly different from the other Craig Bond movies then. This one seems to hit all the required 007 boxes, but not in a very enjoyable way. The story here seems to be more going through the motions than anything else. Oh but what motions they are. As always, there are exotic locals, even more exotic women, and baddies with very loose and not-really-thought-out plans for world domination. Is it a good Bond film. Yes, but only barely and because the bad Bond films have set that bar fairly low.

Now the really interesting part is at the end of the film. ***Spoiler Alert*** Spectre concludes with Bond seemingly walking away from the spying life. Now sure, many a Bond film ends with James riding off into the sunset with his newly acquired love interest only to find him back in the saddle in the next film. I get it. But this film makes James walking away part of it’s core narrative. Scenes are constructed and psyche explored around there not being a 007 anymore. And the final scene has him walking away as promised.

What I’m telling you right now is, Daniel Craig knows exactly what he is doing. He’s a producer on Spectre. He has a financial interest in how the film does after release. And right now, he is engaged in some next level trolling to fill those theater seats. And it’s working. The actor is still playing a part, and he has taken the movies narrative beyond the 4th wall. Everyone is talking about him quitting his Bond contract (even though he still has one movie left in it), and they are clearly flocking to the theater to see what all his fuss is about. Then the last scene waves goodbye and the fictional world and the real world meet with Bond walking away. It’s a put on. It’s part of the PR master scheme. Daniel Craig is messing with you. And it’s selling more tickets than TV commercials ever could.

The post Daniel Craig is Messing With You appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

For more than a decade the streets of Bmore have played host to the antics of dirt bike and 4-wheeling youths displaying their riding skills and popping wheelies “up to 12 O’clock.” But what started out as 10 friends riding together at a time has ballooned into great anarchic carnivals of 30+ motorcyclist shutting down streets, blasting through oncoming traffic, and openly taunting police. The irony in all this is that becoming a biker boy is seen as a positive move away from the gang activity or hustling that is the de facto way of life in these modern day ghettos.

Enter Pug, the 10 year old we follow throughout the 90 minutes of 12 O’Clock Boys. He’s a smart kid, gives his single mother nothing but grief, wants to be a veterinarian, and longs for nothing more than to join the 12 O’Clock Boyz. And he’s got the chops. He skips school to put around on his miniature 4-wheeler and spends every moment he can around the riding crew and encouraging their antics – all while talking shit about how good he is and will show them all soon. Pug is keeper, and it’s a joy to follow him for three years as he works to join the outlaw crew.

I don’t believe in spoilers, so I’ll have to be careful here. The film is gorgeously shot and the lush, sensual cinematography is a revelation against the gritty and anti-social subject that it so aptly captures. Pugs journey offers us a window into a culture and way of life that many of us have no other access to. The film is both short and short on story, with little actually happening in Pug’s life during the span of filming. The other characters, his bombastic mother most definitely included, certainly make up for this and leaving a film wishing for more of everything in a movie isn’t really a bad thing.

12 O’Clock Boys is definitely worth your time, especially as it is also available on YouTube and other VOD services as well as select theaters. I enjoyed peaking into Pug’s life and was rooting for him to make, both into the Boyz and out of his life circumstances. Above all that, all I really wanted to do when walking out of the theater was to go jump on my motorcycle and pop my first wheelie…

You can watch the trailer for 12 O’Clock Boys below:

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