Mr. Robot (Season 1)

 

Creator: Sam Esmail
Starring: Rami Malek, Carly Chaikin, Portia Doubleday, Martin Wallström, Christian Slater, Michael Cristofer, Stephanie Corneliussen, Michel Gill, Gloria Reuben, Ben Rappaport, BD Wong, Sakina Jaffrey
Original Airdate: 2015

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

                                                **Spoiler Warning: This Review Reveals Some Plot Points**

There's this myth that there are only about five or six stories capable of being told and the rest are just variations on them. I rarely thought about that theory until watching USA network's award-winning drama, Mr. Robot, which doesn't necessarily give us a something new as much as it takes what we already know and ties it in knots. But it's in how writer/creator Sam Esmail executes it and the techniques he employs that further push the boundaries of what we thought was possible on cable television.

Mr. Robot  Title card

While it's easy to categorize it as the most ambitious drama to hit the air since Breaking Bad's final episode and a hyperkinetic thrill ride from start to finish, expounding any more on the details is a tricky proposition. On paper, it had to be a tough sell and there are still unquestionably a few kinks that need working out, but it's satisfying just to know that its best season may still be ahead. Ten episodes are built on a foundation and premise that could have completely collapsed had Esmail and his terrific cast not sidestepped nearly all of the potential pitfalls to deliver a TV season so timely and prescient that it's scary.

The series wears its influences on its sleeve, causing detractors to slam it as being derivative of other works, which is somewhat missing the point. The best way to think of it is as a pop culture mixed media project, throwing such jarringly contemporary works as Fight Club, V For Vendetta, Dexter, The Matrix, American Psycho, A Clockwork Orange, Eyes Wide Shut, House of Cards, Black Swan, Star Wars and Hackers in a blender and emerging with this kind of bizarre Kubrick/Fincher hybrid that still holds its own in the originality department. And this, somehow, made it to the USA Network. Visually, it breaks new ground for the medium and as off-putting as it seems that I'd reference so many other pop culture staples, Esmail's debt to them is more often felt than conciously seen, as you're too invested in his story to care much about influences.

If 2015 had a time capsule, this series would be a good candidate to go in it, not necessarily because it's the best or will hold up exceptionally well years down the road (reliance on current technology may harm those prospects), but because it reveals the most about where we're at now. Conformity, social media, the economy, corporate malfeseance, wealth distribution, corruption, capitalism, the 1%. At this point, I'm just throwing out words, which is all that can really be done with Mr. Robot without revealing the plot and overall sensory experience accompanying it. Is it perfect? Absolutely not, as the season's arc loses a bit of steam in the last third, an almost necessary consequence to the twists and turns that proceed it.  There's probably one or two of those too many, nearly beating the audience into submission long before its finale. But in retrospect it provides an adrenaline-filled experience that's gone unrivaled in entertainment over the past year.

Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek)

Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek) is a depressed, anxiety-ridden twenty something security engineer living in New York City and working for the cybersecurity firm, Allsafe, with his childhood friend, Angela Moss (Portia Doubleday). Uncomfortable in nearly all social situations and constantly in need of legal and illegal drugs to even make it through the day, his only connection to people is through computer hacking, using his technological instincts to gain access to their sordid pasts, which frequently reveals criminal activity. A cyber vigilante of sorts, he doesn't hesitate in using that information to blackmail them, especially if he feels it's deserved.

The game changes when Elliot's approached by a mysterious hacker named Mr. Robot (Christian Slater) who wants his help in taking down Allsafe's most valuable client, the Enron-like E Corp (complete with a crooked E logo), one of the most powerful and corrupt companies in the world, headed up by Machiavellian CEO, Phillip Price (Michael Cristofer). Only Mr. Robot isn't just a hacker, but an anarchist recruiting Elliot for an underground group of hacktivists known simply as "fsociety," which includes the grungy, rebellious Darlene (Carly Chaikin), who seems immediately suspicious of the newbie.  Riling up the public with threatening viral underground videos, its public face is a mask that looks like a cross between infamous Gunpowder Plot member and V for Vendetta/Anonymous inspiration Guy Fawkes and Monopoly's Uncle Pennybags.

Bringing a whole new meaning and intimacy to the idea of an unreliable narrator, the pilot (eps1.0_hellofriend.mov) brings us deep inside the fragile psyche of Elliot, for whom the simplest of human interactions, both at home and at work, are becoming a near-impossible challenge. He's more open with us, the audience, than his therapist, Kristen (Gloria Reuben) or boss, Gideon (Michael Gill), perhaps the only two truly moral characters this show will have. Ranting about society's ills and his failure to fit in with Fight Club-esque interior monologues, he's psychologically weakened and ripe for the picking by the time Slater's repairman-looking Mr. Robot gets to him.

E Corp's creepy Tyrell Wellick

With Robot in need of a brilliant hacker to help execute his grand plan of deleting all debt records to incite a digital revolution, Elliot seems to fit the bill perfectly. But as his commitment to fsociety grows, so too does his anxiety and drug use, blurring the lines between what's real and imagined for both him and the viewer. Resistance comes in the form of E Corp's interim CTO, Tyrell Wellick (Martin Wallström), a Patrick Bateman clone and sociopathic corporate climber who takes a sudden interest in Elliot's activities, while leading a secret life of his own with his even more deranged and controlling wife, Joanna (Stephanie Corneliussen). There's also a third party involved in all this known as the Dark Army, led by a mysterious transgender named whiterose (BD Wong), whose allegiance isn't completely clear.

If there's an episode where we first discover what Mr. Robot is as a series it would be the hallucinatory fourth (eps1.3_da3m0ns.mp4) during which fsociety's plans escalate just as Elliot is suffering from severe drug withdrawal. Taking place mostly in his mind, it's important in establishing not only the severity of his problems, but the notion that we can never be sure whether to believe what we're seeing or hearing in this show, especially if it's coming from Elliot. Torn between just crawling into a cave to disappear and being actively involved in real social disruption at the highest level, there's this internal battle going on that's best represented by his desire to help strung-out neighbor and sort of girlfriend, Shayla (Frankie Shaw).

Of course, the more Elliot tries to help, the worse things get, as his past and relationship to Angela and Mr. Robot, inform a lot of this, as details are frequently revealed through flashbacks and even passing dialogue. But most of just trickles out, with Esmail's writing and Malek's manic, wide-eyed performance rewarding viewers' attentiveness. Minute-to-minute, we're never quite sure whether the character's crusading actions are doing far more harm then good, such as in episode six (eps1.5_br4ve-trave1er.asf) when his hacking eventually carries tragic consequences for someone close to him. Without Malek's pitch-perfect portrayal of Elliot's crippling loneliness and isolation, it's easy to imagine him being an impossible character to root for considering the morally questionable actions he takes to achieve his goals.

Mr. Robot lectures Elliot

After years of false starts and stops, Christian Slater's finally made the comeback he's been gunning for, this time with quality material supporting him and bringing out the best of his talents. What's so fun about the performance is how it needs to be re-evaluated and viewed through a new lens after the season's conclusion, calling into question everything you thought you understood about his acting choices and the character himself. The same is true for Portia Doubleday's Angela, who begins the season headed firmly in one direction, seemingly as obsessed with ridding society of Evil Corp as Elliot due to their shared personal history. Where she ends up by the final episode is a far different place, and while Doubleday sells this transformation as well as possible, it's abrupt, leaving some needed room for further explanation in Season 2.

Coming out of nowhere, with only two previous credits to his name, Esmail doesn't believe in explanations, at least not yet. Visually staggering, with actors unusually positioned in the frame and hypnotic work from cinematographer Tim Ives that rivals anything on the big screen, the images in Mr. Robot tend to linger even longer in the mind than its twisty narrative machinations. Even the show's 80's arcade-style title card (randomly popping up during its cold open) is a thrill to behold, as you're never quite sure when during the scene it'll appear. And music supervisor Mac Quayle's throwback electronic synth score and the frequently off-kilter song selections serve to only reinforce the show's unsettling, paranoid atmosphere.

There comes a point in this season where a major reveal is made. Some will see it coming from the jump. Others won't. But from that episode on, it's clear Mr. Robot becomes a radically different series than when it began. It's a risky decision to essentially erase so much of the mystery accompanying the first half of the season and completely change the game. While I'm still not yet sure the gamble pays off, it now places viewers in a position where they're constantly doubting whether certain events or characters are even real. That's a dangerous creative move to make unless there's a solid long term plan in place.

Fsociety puts its best face on

Esmail pulls the rug out not just once, but twice, over the course of these ten episodes, expecting audiences to trust him and go along for the ride, even as one of those moves marginalizes one of the best performances on the show. And yet all of it is so skillfully laid out that you really want to take him at his word when he states that this season was only the prologue of the first act of his feature-length screenplay. Having been burned so many times before with claims like these, it's easy to be skeptical.

As Vince Gilligan proved with Breaking Bad, adjusting on the fly isn't necessarily a weakness when it comes to creating great dramatic TV. But for every one of those there's also a Lost or The X-Files, alienating fans who believe the showrunners are literally making things up as they go along. While there are definitely indications of the latter at work, you can just as easily imagine Esmail delivering on his promise since this truly is like nothing currently on TV right now.

While the last few episodes of Mr. Robot don't necessarily come to a pulse-pounding crescendo, it still delivers on a payoff many would have deemed unlikely, if not impossible at, the season's start. And a cliffhanger. The question now becomes: Where can it possibly go from here? Topping this while still satisfyingly forging forward will be the biggest challenge ahead. As the first few episodes of Season 2 have already proven, this series, like its protagonist, has no designs on making any compromises for mainstream acceptance.

Carrie (2013)

Director: Kimberly Peirce
Starring: Chloe Grace Moretz, Julianne Moore, Gabriella Wilde, Ansel Elgort, Alex Russell, Portia Doubleday, Judy Greer
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Let's just get it out of the way now: Yes, Chloe Moretz is too pretty to play Carrie White, the role originated by Sissy Spacek in the 1976 Brian DePalma film. It's a statement you've heard and read a lot from everyone leading up to release of a remake most would consider pointless anyway. But whether or not it's actually pointless is up to the filmmaker remaking it, and sometimes that's not even true as they're often just following the marching orders of the studio. While we'll never know for sure, that seems to be what happened with director Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don't Cry, Stop-Loss), who's as good a choice as any to make this work. And there are some moments when it almost does, in spite of all the obstacles put in front of her.

The question of whether Carrie has to have a certain look in order for Stephen King's story play believably on screen is a good one since the character's supposed to be an outcast on every level. While Spacek would never be considered "ugly" by anyone's standards, she did have an unconventional appearance that made her stand out from the pack, allowing the narrative of a shy, creepy misfit and social outcast to take flight in a way it wouldn't if another, more conventional "movie star" were cast. It's a case where looks matter. The same description even applies (to a lesser degree) to Angela Bettis in 2002 TV remake. Because the last thing Moretz can be described as is "unconventional," she's already at a deficit before the cameras start rolling. No one's denying her talent and despite being miscast she does a commendable job under thankless circumstances. Unfortunately, she just has to work harder to do it.

Shy outcast Carrie White (Moretz) is tormented by her classmates at Ewen High School, while at home she's emotionally bullied by her borderline psychotic mother Margaret (Julianne Moore), whose religious fanaticism prevents her daughter from leading the life of a normal teen. But at school Carrie finds a confidante and mentor in gym teacher Miss Desjardin (Judy Greer), who seems determined to punish the offenders, most notably popular ringleader Chris Hargensen (Portia Doubleday). Also feeling sympathy is classmate Sue Snell (Gabriella Wilde) whose guilt over joining in the teasing leads her to urge boyfriend Tommy Ross (Ansel Elgort) to take Carrie to the prom. Needless to say the invitation doesn't go over well with mother Margaret, whose daughter is now just starting to realize her telekinetic powers. And that means trouble for everyone.

What's most bothersome about this reimagining is how it almost seems to draw attention to the miscasting by overcompensating, both with Peirce's direction of the actress and some of the goofy creative choices early on. Exaggerated mannerisms and costuming choices are used to accentuate the fact Carrie is a weirdo since that's really the only viable option. She mumbles, she slumps, she walks with her arms folded. All of this screamed acting with a capital "A" to me and altogether doesn't seem like the wisest route to take, but perhaps predestined considering the casting.

Moore's take on Margaret is campy to say the least, chomping on every scene in a performance that feels like an audition reel for Mommie Dearest. The only good thing is that it's clear early on the tonal direction they were going with this and the performance works as that. Whether it's the direction they should have gone with the material is another argument altogether, but unless memory fails, the original didn't feel quite this over-the-top and silly in its first half. Carrie's discovery of her "powers" also isn't handled as well, making the original seem like a telekinesis documentary in comparison. The presentation seems off, as if the screenwriters saw one too many episodes of Heroes, as opposed to attempting to organically incorporate it into the story.            

A web video on a smartphone and some texting represents the script's stabs at contemporizing King's first novel, but given how much of a timely, hot-button topic school and cyber-bullying has become, I expected a little more. But maybe it's for the best that they didn't at the risk of it feeling like just another teen horror movie, which it kind of already does. But the scenes involving Carrie's abuse at school are some of the strongest, especially that infamous shower scene with her cluelessly experiencing her first period as classmates ridicule her. One would guess this is primarily what earned the film its "R" rating, although you can't help but think the end product still strangely feels like a "PG-13."

The two strongest performances unsurprisingly come from Judy Greer and Ansel Elgort. As Miss Desjardin, Greer is asked to do some pretty ridiculous things for a gym teacher and yet she's completely believable doing every single one of them. She's an actress who can just slide into any role and do anything so it's not a shock, but when her character hits and curses at students, I actually believed an administrator wouldn't even think of firing her. It's one of many instances of her impressively covering up the script's flaws.

Elgort shows signs of the talent he'd later emerge as in The Fault in Our Stars with a similar but not identical performance. He exudes a laid-back confidence and likability as Tommy, going a long way to transcend material that wants to paint him as a one-dimensional high school jock. He and Sue going out of their way to help Carrie just might the most compelling sub-plot, if only because there's legitimate doubt as to their intentions the entire time. While Gabriella Wilde comes off as a blank slate as Sue, what Portia Doubleday does with Chris is great, as the character is less a school bully this time around than a full-fledged sociopath. It's a wise decision that only enhances our sympathy for Carrie and has you anticipating the moment when Chris get hers.

When Moretz transforms from ugly duckling into beautiful swan for prom it weirdly feels like the equivalent of Rachael Leigh Cook removing her glasses in She's All That, to the point that I half-expected Sixpence None the Richer to start playing. Nonetheless, this is the point where Moretz's performance really comes alive, as she's freed to play a more realistic teen instead of sulking as a weirdo. With the exception of maybe a little too much CGI, Peirce nails the big bloodbath of a finale, which was high on the list of things she absolutely had to get right.

There were plenty of stumbles along the way, but the staging of the famous ending is an exciting recreation, even making a couple of minor changes to the action in that gym that seem creatively defensible. What isn't is the final image, which reminded me of what Tim Burton did in his disastrous Planet of the Apes remake: Take an iconic closing shot and unnecessarily tweak it while winking at the audience. This isn't as bad an offender, but you have to wonder why they made it a point to change one of the few things that should have remained untouched. And are all horror remakes now required to close with a hard rock song, regardless of whether it fits?   

Since it clearly isn't strong horror, you have to wonder if Peirce had abandoned all genre trappings in favor of a coldly realistic dramatic tragedy, this would have turned out better. Sure, it would have alienated horror audiences, but that's a demographic you could argue is dwindling in theater presence anyway. There's little doubt that approach would have made for a better film, but I'm not sure it would have been as fun to watch.  This latest King interpretation certainly doesn't rank amongst his worst, but it's a missed opportunity, eventually finds its footing in time to deliver a gripping third act. But by then, the damage is already done.There's no problem in remaking Carrie, but if they're not going to change anything besides the cast, it's perplexing just how inferior this turned out with all the talent involved.
   

Youth in Revolt

Director: Miguel Arteta
Starring: Michael Cera, Portia Doubleday, Jean Smart, Mary Kay Place, Zach Galifianakis, Jutin Long, Ray Liotta, Steve Buscemi
Running Time: 90 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Youth in Revolt is one of those movies that plays by its own rules, even seeming to make some up as it goes along. If someone asked to fully explain the plot I'm not sure I could since at about the midway point it totally flies off the rails without looking back. It almost seems constructed with the primary purpose of further infuriating anyone who already can't stand Michael Cera. They could have just gone ahead and titled it, The Further Adventures of Michael Cera and that would have given audiences just as good an idea of what to expect. But here's the thing with him: Yes, he does play the same geeky, awkward part over and over again and I was ready to completely write him off after starring in junk like Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist and Year One, but when he's actually given sharp, witty material, I'm quickly willing to forgive. Shows you how far three years of Arrested Development goes. Maybe for the first time here, we're at least given a glimmer of hope that Cera might be playing this card as a career strategy rather than because of his potential limitations as an actor. It's a good sign, even if his biggest detractors will overlook that and be put off by this oddball film which features not only a strong performance from him, but an unconventional leading lady and some hilarious turns from well-known supporting players. It's messy and not for everyone, but it delivers the laughs.

Cera is 16-year-old Nick Twisp, a virginal outcast who hates his awesome last name, spins Frank Sinatra records and enjoys Fellini films. He lives in a dysfunctional household in Oakland with his emotionally fragile mother (Jean Smart) and her slimy live-in boyfriend, Jerry (Zack Galafianakis), who finds his life threatened by a group of sailors whom he owes money. He takes the family and escapes to a trailer park in Clearwater, where Nick meets the girl of his dreams in Sheeni Saunders (Portia Doubleday), a beautiful, offbeat intellectual who just might be the only female who comes close to understanding him, or at least if she doesn't, is putting on a pretty good show. His competition is Trent Preston (Jonathan Bradford Wright), her poetry writing, star jock boyfriend, who spends most of the film as an unseen legend. When it's time to leave and Nick is faced with the harsh reality of never seeing her again, he creates an mustachioed, cigarette smoking bad boy alter-ego named Francois Dillinger in an effort to get himself kicked out of the house so he can move in with his biological father, George (Steve Buscemi) and closer to Sheeni.

"Awkward" is the only word that could accurately describe nearly every interaction, line of dialogue and event that occurs in this picture. The dialogue has this stilted, deadpan quality to it that the actors seem to have all perfected with varying degrees of nonchalance. It's the kind of dialogue that can get under your skin really quickly if you're not a fan of that kind of humor and you'll probably know within the first few minutes where you stand on it. Anyone's tolerance for Cera is likely to be another big determining factor since he's in every scene and playing a dual role, even if his arrogant alter ego doesn't get as much screen time as the trailers and commercials hinted at (to the point that you'd think it would be a film about multiple personality disorder). It's really just a variation on the geek gets the girl, only we're not sure if Sheeni's even remotely interested or just taking him for a ride thanks to Doubleday's performance, which is what makes the story click. The unknown steals the film from under Cera with her charm, even occasionally upstaging her co-star in the sarcasm department. She's worth keeping an eye on.

In his scenes as Nick's alter-ego, Francois, Cera is finally pushed a little bit out of his comfort zone with a character different from the sensitive nerds that have become his specialty and responds to the challenge. It's hardly a major test of his skills as a dramatic actor, but it's enough to show that he's capable of playing unlikable if necessary. Most of the big laughs come from everyone else though. Justin Long as Sheeni's stoned-out brother. M. Emmett Walsh and Mary Kay Place as her religiously fanatic parents. Fred Willard as a kooky neighbor. The best is Ray Liotta as Officer Wescott, basically playing a variation on his psychotic cop from last year's Observe and Report, which is welcome since he's really good at it and works as the perfect foil for Nick. When we finally meet the infamous antagonist Trent Preston, it's to the film's credit that he fulfills every negative expectation we have of him in hilarious ways. The movie goes crazy in the third act when Nick goes on a road trip to a French boarding school, but as shameful as it is to admit, I was laughing through most of it. Cheap laughs for sure, but you can't tell me it isn't funny seeing Cera set an entire town ablaze.

The film is based on the 1993 cult novel, Youth in Revolt: The Journals of Nick Twisp, by C.D. Payne and it does come off like something that's intended more for the page than screen. Director Miguel Arteta nicely finds ways around that by employing quirky gimmicks like cartoon fantasy sequences and claymation in an attempt to visually capture the novel's eccentricities. Having not read the novel I can't say if it does, but his choices fit the screenplay, taking us into the mind of the protagonist(s). Despite being based on a teenage coming-of-age novel and containing all the elements of that genre, the black humor seems more sophisticated than you'd typically expect from a movie about teens. This could be a welcome case of a risky adaptation that dares to turn off the very audience you'd figure it's aimed at. I can't imagine this being any less stranger than the novel or dumbed down in any way, which is a relief, even if the story is as familiar as Michael Cera. Youth in Revolt can almost be seen as his warm-up for the upcoming, highly anticipated Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, which may or may not be Cera's send-off for the character type he's spent his brief career mastering. Until then I'll just keep complaining has to try something new and end up enjoying his usual act anyway.