Joker: Folie à Deux

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Lady Gaga, Brendan Gleeson, Catherine Keener, Zazie Beetz, Steve Coogan, Harry Lawtey, Leigh Gill, Ken Leung, Jacob Lofland, Bill Smitrovich
Running Time: 138 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

It seems fitting how all these post-mortems are being done on the critical and commercial failure of Todd Phillips' Joker: Folie à Deux since the film itself can almost be viewed as an autopsy of its brilliant predecessor.That this sequel feels made by someone who dislikes the idea of sequels isn't necessarily a negative, but Phillips creates a sprawling, audaciously ambitious mess that manages to tests viewers' patience as much as it subverts expectations. It's a huge, frustrating swing for the fences, revolving entirely around 2019's Joker while simultaneously having very little to do with it. 

Relitigating the previous film's events in painstaking detail, it focuses on the motivations behind Arthur Fleck's crimes and his own fractured state of mind as he faces trial. By this point, the character's mental illness and violent tendencies aren't exactly well guarded secrets, leaving the question as to whether a deeper psychological dive justifies another entry. And now with his perplexing follow-up, Phillips takes extremely bold measures to ensure it does. Some of those work, but others don't.  

Now in custody at Arkham State Hospital, party clown and failed stand-up comedian Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) awaits trial for the murders he committed two years earlier, including his live on-air killing of TV host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro). As Arthur's lawyer Maryanne Stewart (Catherine Keener) builds an insanity defense arguing the Joker persona is responsible, Arkham guard Jackie (an excellent Brendan Gleeson) gets him into a music therapy class. It's here where Arthur meets and falls for Harleen "Lee" Quinzel (Lady Gaga), an obsessive Joker superfan who was committed for allegedly burning down her parents' apartment. 

After Lee's plan for them to escape and start a new life together is thwarted, an increasingly unhinged Arthur must prepare for court while his legions of Joker fans root him on. With Gotham's Assistant D.A. Harvey Dent (Harry Lawtey) hellbent on a death penalty conviction, witnesses like former neighbor Sophie Drummond (Zazie Beetz) and co-worker Gary Puddles (Leigh Gill) take the stand to testify. Continuing to lean on Lee for support, Arthur's grip on reality slips as Joker reemerges, transforming the trial into a circus sideshow.

Given the heavy influence of Scorsese's Taxi Driver and The King of Comedy on the first film, it wasn't the worst idea for Phillips to pair Joker up with Harley Quinn for a jukebox musical in the vein of New York, New York. But after a promising start, the dark, twisted love story loses its way when scattershot execution and repetitive scenes fail to move the story forward. Clocking in at two hours and eighteen minutes, it feels longer, accompanied by a trial of the century you worry may never end. What nearly saves it are two phenomenal performances and the impressive visuals, both of which are occasionally lost amidst a package that just doesn't come together like it should.   

A cleverly conceived animated opening where Joker is impersonated by his shadow prior to a live TV performance provides a more revealing glimpse into the film's themes than you'd suspect, as the Looney Tunes-style short conveys that ongoing tug of war between Arthur's two identities. And many of the musical sequences do succeed as a manifestation of his insanity, particularly an Arkham rooftop dance and a Sonny and Cher inspired variety show spoof. But even with the presence of old school songbook standards like "That's Entertainment," "When You're Smiling" and "I've Got the World on a String," these excursions become increasingly uneven, resulting in diminishing returns the more Phillips tries to squeeze in.

Of all the picture's issues, Phoenix and Gaga aren't among them, with the former giving another complex, compelling performance that alternates between dark humor and unimaginable despair as Arthur's vulnerability is put on full display for everyone to see. And despite skepticism surrounding her casting, Gaga's work is one of the best things in this, and not just because of her singing during the musical interludes. In capturing the dangerously compulsive infatuation Lee has with Joker, her true motivations remain constantly in question. Their bond not only reflects his narcissistic need for love and affection, but ties into themes of media obsession prevalent in the first film. 

Midway through, the narrative becomes disjointed when scenes drag and action awkwardly shifts between the hospital and courtroom. Musical sequences are either piled on or disappear before returning to relay the same idea in a different song or setting. But while Arthur's trial is entirely too long, it's still entertaining to watch Joker represent himself with a Grisham inspired Southern drawl as the supposedly no-nonsense judge (Life Goes On's Bill Smitrovich!) indulges his craziest whims. By the time returning characters take the stand, what unfolds feels like a bizarre cross between the Seinfeld finale and Colin Ferguson's 1993 shooting trial. Harvey Dent's inclusion makes sense, even if the character leaves so little an impression you'll have to remind yourself he's there, until a late development jolts us into recalling why.

While there's understandable disdain for what Phillips attempts, this approaches the material from an entirely different angle than the first film, far more invested in exploring whether Arthur and Joker really are one in the same. A potentially intriguing thesis on it comes toward the end, but even that's marred by some confusing, if well shot theatrics. Its final minutes feel more deflating than tragic, likely to leave viewers shaking their heads at the infuriating denouement, as if the joke's on them. And in a way, it is. But despite its many problems, this still could be worth revisiting down the road, if only to further examine how a Joker sequel turned out like this.       

Burning Questions from the 2020 Oscars

Do you cringe in fear each year wondering how they'll open the show?

Did this not disappoint?

When Janel Monae walked onto the Mr. Rogers set, did you think ABC was staging another one of their live primetime reenactments?

Did she just really dress up as the May Queen from Midsommar?

Did Midsommar really just get a musical tribute at the Oscars?

Is this actually happening?

Can you pinch me now, please?

Should I take everything back I ever said about the Oscars?

Did most of the audience at home probably have no clue what the hell was happening?

Why aren't they showing Florence Pugh's reaction?! 

Shouldn't Midsommar have been nominated for...everything?

Or at the very least, costume and production design?

Is this the next best thing?

Can you believe I didn't review it?

Shouldn't we rectify that?

Or at least the best thing since Michael J. Fox showed up with Seth Rogen in a DeLorean?

Weren't those also costumes from Dolemite, Queen and Slim and Us?

Noticing a pattern?

Could the Academy possibly be apologizing for something?

Shouldn't Chris Rock be announced as the star of the upcoming Saw spinoff?

Did you remember Regina King won last year?

And for what?

Wasn't Brad's speech kind of a downer?

Impeachment hearings...really?

Were you thinking, "wait until Joaquin takes the stage?"

Did you know this was Pitt's second Oscar?

And that the other was for producing Moonlight?

Will an animated feature ever be nominated for Best Picture again?

First of many Kobe mentions?

Are Star Wars fans still whining about Kelly Marie Tran?

After delivering that line about reloading Keanu's Matrix, should we blame them?

Shouldn't he have been introduced as the star of the upcoming Bill and Ted Face the Music?

Did we just hear Keanu read the Parasite script?

And wasn't that awesome?

Does any movie have more heat behind it right now than Parasite?

Are you glad they chose the Joker stair scene as its screenplay clip?

Is Taika Waititi the first director playing Hitler in his own movie to win a screenplay Oscar?

Shouldn't Shia LeBouf been nominated for Best Supporting Actor for Honey Boy?

Isn't it The Neighbor's WINDOW?

Do you think the winners even care?

The Conners is still on?

Wasn't rewarding Once upon a Time in Hollywood's incredible production design the absolute right call?

Weren't Maya Rudolph and Kristin Wiig kind of insufferable?

Didn't it look like Billie Eilish agreed? 

Well, at least Greta Gerwig kind of won something...right?

Is Chrissy Metz delivering an Adelegram?

Tony Hawk?!

Is Florence Pugh the new Jennifer Lawrence?

Anyone surprised by Laura Dern's win?

Did you think "this is probably gonna be good" when she took the stage?

And wasn't it?

What if I told you five years ago you'd hear, "I'd like to thank Netflix" during an Oscar acceptance speech? 

After pitching a perfect 11 for 11 Oscar game so far, was I instructing no one to speak to me in the dugout?

Isn't it surprising they haven't done a movie song montage before?

Not a question but...La Bamba!

Didn't you just know I'd mention Huey Lewis and the News' brilliant "The Power of Love" from Back to the Future?

Is Eminem really on stage right now performing "Lose Yourself?"

Isn't it one of the best choices ever for Original Song?

Isn't that Mekhi Phifer line great?

Isn't it a shame they bleeped out three quarters of the song?

Didn't Scorsese look confused?

Wasn't it interesting to discover who in the audience were Eminem fans?

Am I looking at YOU, Brie Larson and Gal Gadot?

Isn't it fitting one of those damned sound categories ruined my streak?

Has anyone's scorecard ever survived those categories?

Am I kind of relieved I missed one?

Can I breathe now?

Doesn't Randy Newman have just the right voice for the types of songs he performs?

Does that make him the Bob Dylan of movie soundtracks?

Shouldn't Julia Louis Dreyfuss and Will Ferrell host (if we still had hosts)?

Are they rushing through the categories so quickly that it's becoming difficult to tell which they are?

It took this long to open an Academy museum?

Haven't they been talking about it for the past twenty telecasts?

Not a question but...Zazie Beetz!!

Doesn't "making good time" seem to be a top priority on this year's telecast?

Are you hoping that doesn't tastelessly apply to the In Memoriam segment?

Shouldn't we have known Rebel Wilson and James Corden would come out dressed as Cats?

Did those costumes look better than the CGI in the movie?

Did Sandra Oh just take a dig at Netflix?

Wait, did those makeup artists really just win an Oscar for "transforming" Charlize Theron, Margot Robbie and Nicole Kidman into beautiful blonde Fox News anchors?

Did that International Feature Film award just insure that Bong Joon Ho won't be returning to the podium later?

Why should the best foreign and animated films be jettisoned off into their own categories?

Can you believe that song was Rocketman's sole nomination?

Remember when Taron Egerton was being talked about as a serious Best Actor contender?

Does anyone under the age of 55 still watch American Idol?

Is it strange that I haven't heard of Taika Waititi until this year?

After that whole intro, didn't you just know who'd be winning Best Original Score?

Has there ever been two more intrinsically linked creative collaborators than Elton John and Bernie Taupin?

When Bong Joon Ho was somewhat shockingly announced as Best Director, did you become a little less sure Parasite wasn't winning the big one?

Wasn't it cool of him give shout-outs to Scorsese and Tarantino?

Doesn't seem like we just saw Billie Eilish on an awards show, like last weekend?

Wasn't that a haunting "Yesterday" cover?

Um, Luke Perry? 

Has this show moved at a fast clip or what?

Are we getting used to this no host thing?

Remember when Olivia Colman beat Glenn Close for Best Actress last year?

Did Colman's likability just remind us why?

Were you wondering which Joaquin Phoenix we'd get tonight?

Did you soon realize we'd be getting shy, nervous, babbling Joaquin?

As far as cause speeches go, wasn't it at least a little less painful than you expected?

How many Oscars would River Phoenix have by now?

Who ever thought we'd see Renee Zellweger on that stage again...accepting an Oscar?

Do you remember her talking with that much of a twang?

Am I the only one who still thinks Anne Hathaway could crush it as Judy Garland?

Who's that woman they introduced as Jane Fonda?

How many years in a row can I miss Best Picture?

Does this win mean that everyone can hate on Parasite now?

Are 1917 tribute sites popping up online as we speak?

Does this prove Parasite was so good that even the Academy couldn't deny it?

Were they really going to close the curtain on them?

Did you see Tom Hanks and Charlize Theron's reactions to it?

At this hour, who even cares how long they go?

Haven't they done a decent job condensing the telecast and moving it along these past two years?

Was anyone watching to notice?

Isn't it great to have a Best Picture winner that everyone actually seems to love?

Who thought the the Oscars could ever end before midnight?

2020 Oscar Nominations (Reaction and Analysis)

So, the 92nd Academy Award nominations were announced early this morning by John Cho and Issa Rae and, as per the norm, there were some snubs and surprises. Less so than usual, but a fair amount just the same. You can read the entire list here. The bigger news was that these nods are a reflection of an extremely shortened awards season, in many ways lacking the ups and downs and twists and turns we normally get leading into announcement morning. Or to further put it into perspective: Here we already are on January 13th and the host-less telecast airs from the Dolby Theater in Hollywood on February 9th in just a few weeks. That's not only the smallest window in Oscar history, but the quickest turnaround for certain Academy voters who no longer have the time or luxury to base the entirety of their decision-making process on what others do. And after riding an upswing in ratings from last year's blockbuster-heavy show, it may be time to put up or shut up for them. How did AMPAS do this year? Well, here are some of the big takeaways...

-Joker leads the pack with a total of 11 nominations, including Best Picture, Director (Todd Phillips), Actor (Joaquin Phoenix). Original Score (Hildur Guðnadóttir) and even that coveted Film Editing nod, which is thought of as a must if you want to take home Best Picture. We knew the film could potentially clean up this morning, but this is clearly a best case scenario and MUCH better than anyone anticipated.

-The currently peaking 1917 and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood trail with 10 nods, including Picture and Director (Sam Mendes and Quentin Tarantino respectively). Even though Joker just upped its odds, these two are still considered the favorites for the top prize due to their more Academy-friendly subject matter.

-Looks like we've got 9 Best Picture nominees again this year.

-Joaquin Phoenix is a lock. No one can touch him right now.

-Similarly, Judy's Renée Zellweger probably has Best Actress wrapped up, albeit with far less competition.

-In a minor surprise, Cynthia Erivo got in for somewhat poorly received Harriet. But considering the Academy's long-standing love for movies about historical heroes, maybe not.

-Whether or not you feel they're each in the appropriate category, Pitt and DiCaprio are in, with Pitt more than likely to win for Best Supporting Actor.

-In a surprise, but not exactly a shock, Robert DeNiro doesn't get in for The Irishman, as most of the attention this season has been focused on co-stars Al Pacino and Joe Pesci, both of whom are nominated for Supporting.  

-This is as good a chance as Tarantino will ever have at winning Best Director.

-With multiple nominations for The Irishman, Marriage Story and The Two Popes, Netflix becomes the year's most nominated studio. Who would have thought?  Well, besides everyone.  

-Ford v. Ferrari is kind of surprisingly one of them, without being recognized for much else outside of the sound categories.

- Despite Parasite earning a Best Picture Nomination, does its presence (and likely win) in the Foreign Film category pretty much guarantee it can't possibly win the Big Prize?

-Sorry, but I wouldn't consider the Academy failing to nominate J-Lo for Best Supporting Actress in a movie about strippers a "snub." At least not by their standards.

-Taron Egerton not scoring a Best Actor nod for Rocketman is most definitely one, especially coming off a bunch of precursor notices and Rami Malek's win for Bohemian Rhapsody still fresh in minds. Or maybe that's the problem?

-No Lupita Nyong'o for Us, though for some reason the exclusion doesn't feel like a shock given the Academy's rocky relationship with sci-fi and horror. It seems like just the kind of performance they'd overlook, ridiculous as that seems.

-Presumable lead actress lock Awkwafina overlooked for The Farewell, as the film's ignored for just about everything else as well, highlighting the divide that still exists between critics and voters.  

-No Adam Sandler for Uncut Gems or Eddie Murphy for Dolemite, but good luck finding anyone who predicted they'd get in. The former just peaked too late, making him maybe the biggest casualty of this shortened season.

-Knives Out didn't make the impact many were hoping, earning only an Original Screenplay nomination for Rian Johnson.

-The never-nominated Scarlett Johansson becomes a double nominee for both Marriage Story (Lead) and JoJo Rabbit (Supporting).

-Speaking of potential double nominees, the guessing game's over. Margot Robbie gets her Supporting nod for Bombshell instead of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. 

-Richard Jewell may have flopped at the box office, but Kathy Bates still gets in for Supporting, as most suspected she still would. But Laura Dern has this race in the bag for Marriage Story.

-While Greta Gerwig may have gone un-nominated for directing Little Women (a snub currently causing an uproar), the film's haul of six nods (including Best Picture, Best Actress for Saoirse Ronan and Supporting Actress for Florence Pugh) is probably better than anyone expected. But if it's okay, I'll just continue pretending Pugh was nominated for Midsommar instead.

Joker

Director: Todd Phillips
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Robert De Niro, Zazie Beetz, Frances Conroy, Brett Cullen, Shea Whigham, Bill Camp, Glenn Fleshler, Leigh Gill, Marc Maron, Douglas Hodge, Dante Pereira-Olson
Running Time: 122 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

There's been a lot of discussion lately as to what constitutes a "realistic" take on a comic book or superhero property, if such a decriptor even exists. While great entertainment, the idea that Tim Burton's 1989 Batman was once praised for its dark grittiness seems downright laughable now. Christopher Nolan may have changed game entirely with his Dark Knight Trilogy, stripping away many elements that defined the genre with something more closely resembling a crime drama, but it was really Heath Ledger's Oscar-winning reinterpretation of the Joker as a nihilistic terrorist that left an imprint. Nolan was onto to something big with that approach until Marvel came along, reminding audiences worldwide that they love "fun" superhero movies, as interchangeable and corporately indistinct as they've since become. Soon, a future where every major property would be Nolanized with a healthy dose of realism and nuance fell by the wayside. 

Now, with Joker, comedy director Todd Phillips does what Nolan and everyone before him was either too tentative or flat-out forbidden in going all the way with, delivering a dark psychological drama that doesn't only subvert the form, but flat-out demolishes it. The credits read "Based on DC characters" and, finally, for the first time, we can say, "very loosely." It actually shares more in common with dark psychological dramas like Taxi Driver, The King of Comedy and Requiem For a Dream, channeling the tone, look and content of those films more than any aforementioned Bat project. And Joaquin Phoenix's chilling, disturbing reimagining of this character is a full-fledged introduction, going where so few actors have in really playing the man behind the facepaint, infusing him with a complexity this long limiting genre has frowned upon. The material's depth affords him that chance, as he creates a painfully real depiction of mental illness that would be too difficult to watch if it wasn't so gripping. 

It's 1981 and party clown and sometimes stand-up comedian Arthur Fleck (Phoenix) is living in a dilapidated apartment with his ailing mother, Penny, (Frances Conroy) in Gotham City. With crime and unemployment at a high, the city is also in the midst of a garbage strike and overrun with rats. Even as wealthy businessman Thomas Wayne (Brett Cullen) vows to bring change with a mayoral bid, the rift between the haves and have nots of Gotham grows larger, with no signs of relief coming anytime soon. That's especially true for the mentally ill and socially awkward Arthur, who suffers from a clinical condition that causes inappropriate, uncontrollable laughing fits. Relying on social services for seven different medications, his luck worsens when, in full clown make-up and costume, he's jumped and beaten in an alley by a group of thugs while hawking electronics.

Implored by his co-workers to take measures insuring his safety on the streets, he discovers the most enjoyment watching "The Murray Franklin Show" with his mother. Both are enamored with its Carson-like host, Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro), whom Arthur dreams of someday meeting when his stand-up career takes off and he's asked to appear on the program. Things start looking up when he gets some club gigs and starts dating Sophie (Zazie Beetz), a cynical single mother who lives in the same building. But with his fragile mental state, Arthur's always one dangerous incident away from being pushed over the edge. And it's coming, no matter how often his mom tells him to "put on a happy face."

Despite taking place in "Gotham City," let's just call it what it is: late 70's, early 80's New York City. It not only looks and feels like it with the grafitti, garbage and porn shops, but the prevalence of the same socio-political issues as well. It's essentially a period piece, and more discussion should probably be centering around how that informs and even exacerbates the shocking events. And when talking about a mentally ill character, how it pushes him further over the edge when any or all of the few options available to him start to rapidly disappear. The idea of placing Arthur in this setting during that era was a masterstroke by Phillips, greatly heightening the intensity of nearly everything that occurs over the two hour running time.

Rarely does relief come from the feeling of being trapped in a powder keg ready to explode, and for someone like Arthur, it's a living hell. Phillips' and Scott Silver's script nails the idea that back then no one, aside from medical professionals, would recognize something as rarely talked about or acknowledged as mental illness. As a result, the surrounding characters pretty much write him off as merely a creepy "weirdo" no one would even think of considering a danger or threat on his worst day. It's this all too familar underestimation that helps leads to devastating consequences in a tumultuous city ripe for the picking. The setting also gives the movie an incredible out, allowing Arthur's behavior to rise to alarming heights before law enforcement get involved, albeit way late. And based on the time period and circumstances, it's believable, allowing a crucial suspension of disbelief most other films couldn't get away with. This does, and masterfully.  

A noticeably emaciated Phoenix has to walk a tightrope here, conveying a sincerity and almost childlike innocence and curiosity in Arthur when we first meet him. He takes his job seriously and believes he can go places despite the obstacles facing him, until it becomes too much for his emotional faculties to process. His laughing condition (a real life disorder ingeniously incorporated into the character) only magnifies the awkwardness of every already awkward encounter he has. Very few of his relationships are functional. Whether it's with his mom, co-workers, boss or girlfriend. The latter is especially rife with dysfunction, almost immediately sending out warning signs that something's amiss in this dynamic, possibly on both sides.

It's hardly a spoiler to state that once the Sinatra and Chaplin aficionado obtains a weapon for self-defense and gets his first taste of violence, Phoenix is able to take Arthur on a credible trajectory from someone who initially appears as if they couldn't hurt a fly to an unstable vigilante starting to get noticed and drunk with delusions of grandeur. His problems keep piling up, but because so many of Gotham's lesser off inhabitants can closely relate, he may eventually end up getting his time in the spotlight after all. Just like his idol, Murray Franklin. After all, what Arthur always craved most was attention and adulation. Echoing shades of Taxi Driver, he'll eventually get it, just not in the way that he or anyone else would have envisioned. 

Cleverly riffing on former co-star Jerry Lewis' role opposite his in The King of Comedy, De Niro delivers his most memorable supporting turn in years, proving to be a far more engaging presence as the fictitious talk show host than the notoriously guarded actor's been as a real life guest on them. How the media-obsessed Arthur's path eventually crosses with his should seem absurd, and it is, but it also ingeniously highlights the social divide in Gotham, giving this tragic clown a pulpit from which to preach. Police involvement in Arthur's crime spree may be much delayed, but in the midst of such turmoil, it's still easy for him to continue going undetected and unnoticed as a local celebrity, just as as he has his entire life. What occurs in the third act may be extremely violent and disturbing, but the inevitable path was paved for it the entire time.

The only references made to anything related to the Batman canon are passing ones and strategically placed Easter eggs that fans will notice and appreciate without alienating others completely unfamilar with the character or its history. Really, all of that can be thrown out the window since this is about as far removed from that universe as it gets. Even the inclusion of the Wayne family is mainly to further fuel the wealthy disparity crisis ripping apart Gotham. There's also a deeply personal angle to this involving Arthur that's strangely effective, adding a lot of fuel to an already burning fire.

While this isn't some kind of Joker "origin story" and thankfully exists independently from any scenario in which such a term would exist, some audiences will probably still reserve the option to view it as such. Let them, just as long as there's never a sequel to this, and it stands just where it is. There's a thrill in knowing the only goal was to serve this specifically memorable character and story rather than feed a studio machine just waiting to churn out inferior mainstream follow-ups that would only undermine the exceptional work done by Phillips and Phoenix.

Even in a long line of Phoenix performances, this is one for the ages, and as serious and unsettling an exploration of mental illness as you're likely to see on screen. Those in doubt need only look at the controversy surrounding its release and the real fears that some could view an examination of this protagonist's problems as a call-to-arms, and a provocation to commit violence. That it caused such a an uproar speaks to the massively discomforting chord this story strikes, albeit one we've unfortunately gotten all too familiar with. If anything, let Joker stand as a warning against us ever becoming numb to it.

Her

Director: Spike Jonze
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Amy Adams, Rooney Mara, Olivia Wilde, Scarlett Johansson, Chris Pratt, Matt Letscher, Portia Doubleday, Brian Cox
Running Time: 125 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I'll have to tread lightly in properly explaining my minor disappointment in Spike Jonze's Her. The very word "disappointment" is a film critic's worst enemy because it implies expectations. That in itself isn't fair, but it's true. When you have a director that's as original and groundbreaking as Jonze you can't help but anticipate a grand slam each time out. It's very good, but leaves this nagging feeling it wasn't all it could have been, despite it being difficult to describe exactly how. To be honest, it's kind of surprising it's struck the chord it has amongst critics and moviegoers, even earning enough admiration to sneak in as a Best Picture nominee. Something this eccentric usually ends up splitting everyone down the middle. But it's easiest to name what it does exceptionally well, and topping the list is the depiction of a near-future that's completely believable in terms of technology and its effect on our lives.

Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix), is a shy introvert who works for a company that writes personal love letters, but he's lately been distracted and depressed over his upcoming divorce with childhood sweetheart, Catherine (Rooney Mara). His new rebound girlfriend is an Operating system, or OS, named "Samantha" (voiced by a never seen Scarlett Johansson), who's designed to behave and evolve as an actual human being would. Unready for the commitment that comes with an actual human relationship so soon after the collapse of his marriage, he unrealistically holds out up for a reconciliation with Catherine, even if Samantha seems to be the perfect substitute. For him, it represents the chance to open up about his fears and dreams without having to deal with the complications that might accompany a conventional relationship (or so he initially thinks). For Sam, it's a chance to learn and grow, transcending her role as an OS to more closely resemble an actual person with real, rather than programmed, feelings. Of course, both want something out of this neither can possibly get from the other and with that comes the realization that even an artificially programmed relationship can come with pitfalls. And for the emotional fragile Theodore, just as much pain.

That this still feels like a one man show with so loaded a cast is a credit to what Phoenix does with a role that on paper seems thankless. He steers this premise as far as he can and then some because, if we're being completely honest, this is still about a man who falls in love with his computer. And yet not. It's up to the actors and script to somehow make that concept work, so from that perspective it's hard to call the effort anything other than a success. As for Johansson, it's ironic she isn't physically present to witness what ends up being her most captivating performance in a while. When compiling a list of her greatest attributes, her unmistakably deep and raspy voice probably goes unnoticed by comparison, making it a stroke of casting genius from Jonze to recognize that and nab her. It's also maybe a stroke of luck considering the part was originally intended for Samantha Morton, who was dropped at the last minute. More than that, there's this rare opportunity for Johansson's looks to be taken completely out of the equation. The conversations and flirtation between the two are initially compelling, and when the time comes for their relationship to get "physical," what occurs is downright bizarre.

We know where all this is headed and it's hardly a spoiler to say that Theodore is going to get dumped to learn lessons about life and himself. And that's when it started overstaying its welcome a bit with me in the third act. There are only so many arguments, misunderstandings, make-ups and examples of petty jealousy you can take, especially when one half of the couple is a disembodied voice. And because the relationship is is so believable it almost veers away from speculative sci-fi and social commentary, evolving instead (along with Samantha) into conventional relationship drama territory. When that happened, I started losing interest and at just over two deliberately paced hours, it's arguable Jonze should have spent more time in the editing room. The closing half hour in particular seems to almost spin motionlessly, in search of an ending. Eventually it finds one, even if I'm still not sure it's the one it deserved. 

It's worth noting how everyone around Theodore reacts to his new girlfriend since it teeters on the edge of being completely absurd, while somehow remaining relatively realistic. For ex-wife Catherine, it's the former, and yet another excuse for him to avoid a real adult relationship with responsibility and actual consequences. We're shown poignant glimpses of their marriage and it's relatively easy to judge what went wrong based on flashbacks and a pained conversation  between the two late in the film. His friend Aimee (Amy Adams, basically covering Cameron Diaz's role in Being John Malkovich, complete with the frizzy hair), is supportive, as is his happy-go-lucky co-worker Paul (Chris Pratt). Seeing everyone's differing reactions to Samantha within the context of this society was strangely more interesting to me than anything involving Theodore's relationship with her. But the most discussion-worthy scene involves his blind date with a clingy friend of Aimee's (memorably played by Olivia Wilde), that doesn't at all go in the direction you're expecting, and the result is all the more intriguing because of it.

Her is melancholy in both tone and atmosphere, to the point that at times I found it almost unbearably depressing and claustrophobic, with very few moments of uplift. Even the supposedly happy moments have this tinge of sadness to them. Did it hit too close to home? Am I just sick of watching people on their phones? Or maybe it's impossible to feel any true excitement watching a man fall in love with his operating system. You bring a bit of yourself to every movie you see but that rings especially true here, as anyone who see it is likely to only do so through the filter of their own experiences and relationships. But it sure is something to look at. The world building by Jonze, the costume and production team, and cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema is incredible, making it impossible to go through a scene without appreciating all the attention to visual detail. As expected, Arcade Fire's score is top notch. Going just far enough, it resembles a future we'd recognize, but features enough elements that it could easily be mistaken for the present or any other point in time. The aesthetic decisions not only make sense, but don't date the movie, insuring it could be one of the rare future cinematic societies we don't giggle at a few years down the line.  

The situation that unfolds here could literally happen next week, if not right now. Everyone's already figuratively in love with their phones and electronic devices so the idea of a lonely man literally falling in love with one isn't much of a stretch at all. Jonze should be praised for not making that obvious point and turning the premise into a finger wagging condemnation of our obsession with modern technology, which would have been too easy, not to mention pointless. Instead, you could argue the exact opposite argument is made, in that technology can open our hearts and minds, just as long as it isn't used a surrogate for curing the personal problems we heap on ourselves. 

The Master

Director: Paul Thomas Anderson
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, Jesse Plemons, Madison Beaty, Ambyr Childers, Laura Dern, Rami Malek
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

   **Spoiler Warning: The Following Review Reveals Plot Details**

"Processing" is a word frequently used throughout Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master, and that's fitting considering it also describes what many will be doing after having seen it. In the film, processing (or "auditing" in Scientology speak) is the battery of repetitive and abrasive questioning roaming seaman Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) endures at the hands of Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), the scientist and author behind a controversial movement called "The Cure." This scene is, if you forgive the pun, a master class in screen acting that holds you enraptured for its duration. It's best to get it out of the way now and state there's absolutely no question the Cure is based on Scientology and the character of Dodd is roughly if not directly, inspired by L. Ron Hubbard. There's no need to dwell on it because it only provides the jumping off point and might be the least important element of a film so challenging, frustrating and baffling you may as well skip the first viewing all together because it'll demand at least three.

Having seen the film only days ago, I'm still trying to make sense of what it all means and slowly coming to terms with the fact that that's what makes it unforgettable. The narrative is all over the place, the two lead characters experience no growth from beginning to end and you'll want to bang your head against a wall when it's over. And yet it's like no American film in recent memory and sticks out like a sore thumb amongst PTA's previous work, none of which has ever been known for its conventionality. But with this, he's really made a raw statement, and while it may take years to figure out what that statement is, he's one of the few filmmakers left who refuse to just give us the answers. With expectations sky high, it was certainly possible to predict the picture's greatness, but few could have guessed it would be this impenetrable.

Our first glimpse of Freddie Quell is under his helmet as World War II comes to an end. A mentally ill alcoholic prone to fits of spontaneous rage, he can't hold down a job as a department store photographer, resulting in a memorable scene early on where he verbally and physically abuses a married customer. It's worth mentioning he's married only because that fact seems to be what drives Freddie over the edge. His quest for women and a family is a reoccurring theme throughout the film and his burning need for human companionship provides the purpose for his existence and, as the film argues, ours.

After a drunken night, Freddie ends up as a stowaway on the ship of the enigmatic Lancaster Dodd, whose quasi-religious, philosophical movement explores past lives, time travel, processing and forms of hypnosis to return the human form to its perfect essence, thus eradicating war and disease. In this young man, Dodd immediately sees an animal that needs to not only be contained, but cured and senses he could be the perfect subject for his practices, which are coming under increased scrutiny. A friendship and father-son dynamic that develops is at times touching, volatile and pathetic in how both seem to fulfill a need in each other. Freddie, the animal, needs the stability and focus the Cure's teachings provide so he can empty his emotional baggage. Dodd secretly and desperately wants the freedom Freddie has but his movement is built entirely around suppressing those animalistic urges.  His pregnant wife Peggy (Amy Adams) feels Freddie is past help and his unpredictability is a detriment to their cause. She may be right, but in Dodd's mind, it's as much his mission to prove himself right as to rescue a lost soul.

As Freddie, Joaquin Phoenix gives a performance unlike any other we've seen, playing an unconventional, often unlikable protagonist who keeps you on edge every moment he's on the screen with his volatility. Besides having literally no idea what he'll do from one scene to the next or when he'll just completely lose it, his exaggerated movements and mannerisms more closely resemble an old man than a young seaman. Phoenix is pushing 40 yet is still somehow completely believable as being in his twenties, middle-aged or an old man. Here it seems he gets to play all three as the character's actual age remains one of the film's many mysteries.

Slouched over like a hunchback with his pants nearly pulled up to his chest, words frequently come out of his mouth as a drunken warble with his emotional instability physically manifesting itself to the point that he looks physically ill. It's not just a brilliant performance, but a dangerous one because he keeps you on edge and anxious the whole time you're watching, constantly in your face and taking on the persona of a wild animal. During one of Freddie's many meltdowns Dodd reminds him he's the only one who likes him, and he's right. Of all the kooky theories Dodd dispenses throughout, the one that strangely seems the most plausible is that these two men were destined to somehow find one other across time and space.

Hoffman infuses Dodd with a blustery charisma and Wellesian presence that belies a deeply insecure fraud you still can't help but admire for his dedication, if nothing else. His best scenes are when his practices are questioned, causing the usually calm, confident Master to briefly lose it before realizing that doing so is a betrayal of the Cure's methods, which are frequently attacked. If behind every great man is a woman then Dodd's is his wife Peggy, played by Amy Adams in the scariest performance of her career. "Terrifying" or "emotionless" aren't adjectives usually associated with her work but she has a scene (and if you've seen it you know EXACTLY which one) that's so shocking it instantly puts everything about their marriage and this movement in full perspective. It's clear who the real puppet master is, as we find out Freddie isn't the only man in the film controlled by the opposite sex. A perfectly cast Jesse Plemons (who really resembles a younger Hoffman) has only a few scenes as Dodd's son Val but they're revelatory, with one resulting in perhaps the film's most memorable line. Even he thinks his father's a fraud. Laura Dern has an extended cameo as a Cure follower who eventually starts asking to many questions for her own good, and Dodd's.  

Viewers are likely to take an issue with the fact that the narrative follows an unusual trajectory that seems to spit in the face of what we'd consider a conventional three-act structure. There's this expectation that the film is building toward some kind of climactic showdown between the Dodd and Freddie, similar to the final violent bowling alley scene between Daniel Plainview and preacher Eli Sunday in There Will Be Blood. But this isn't that kind of a relationship, and the more we want to see Freddie break away and become Dodd's nemesis, the further PTA seems to tug in the opposite direction. The battle taking place is within themselves and it each needs the other to help fight it. The movie builds and builds before fading away into the distance, leaving the viewer to consider the possibility that some people just might be incapable of change, hardwired to sabotage their own happiness.

At one point Dodd tells Freddie that if he figures out a way to live without a master to let the rest of the world know because it would truly be a first. Dodd's master is his wife, while Freddie also has a girl, Doris (Madison Beaty) he thinks is waiting for him back home. And by the time he actually realizes what he wants, it's gone. The film starts almost exactly where it begins, with Freddie adrift. All he wanted was a human connection, and his brief bond with Dodd provided him with it, or maybe just the illusion and comfort of one. Like most things in his life, he couldn't find the discipline to dedicate himself to it, though a closing scene (extremely reminiscent of A Clockwork Orange) suggests the Cure's practices had some kind of lasting impact, even as we're unsure of exactly what. The jury's out on whether there's any hope for this character, or whether anyone will ever be able to fully dissect what occurs in the last third of the picture. In a way, the movie never truly ends.

About as divisive and polarizing as it is, a movie theater just might be the best and also worst place to see The Master. Technically speaking, it demands to be seen on the big screen to absorb the visual grandeur and hear Jonny Greenwood's unmistakably sad and sublime score that's more than a few miles removed from his previous PTA collaboration on There Will Be Blood. Yet, it so complex and intellectually involving it's impossible to imagine seeing it with an audience and being as absorbed as you would be watching it alone without any external distractions.

Too often period pieces are prone to feeling to cold and distant with such a technical emphasis on capturing a certain era (in this case the post-war 50's) that the story's pathos is lost. What PTA does better than anyone, and takes to a whole new level here, is check both those boxes in creating an epic that's technically brilliant without sacrificing emotional depth. It doesn't feel like a museum piece to be admired and respected from arms length like so many others released this time of year, but instead a picture to dive into repeatedly, making new discoveries on each viewing.

With this effort PTA cements his status as the best American filmmaker working today, surpassing his closest competitor David Fincher, whose recent Dragon Tattoo amounted to little more than pulpy nonsense. Even those who despise this picture (and boy will there be) couldn't reasonably consider it a disappointment just on the basis of the discussion and analysis it inspires. It also features two of our greatest actors in Phoenix and Hoffman going head-to-head in what will no doubt years from now be looked at as the pinnacle of their work. It's difficult enough to find new releases that give us something we've never seen before but this does that while still having enough respect for its audience to let us unravel what that "something" is. Challenging beyond belief, what throws you off most about The Master is how it doesn't actually begin until after the final credits roll. 

'07 Leftovers: Reservation Road

Director: Terry George
Starring: Joaquin, Jennifer Connelly, Mark Ruffalo, Mira Sorvino, Elle Fanning, Sean Curley, Eddie Alderson
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

*** (out of ****)

It happens every year. A film released during awards season with “OSCAR” written all over it lands in theaters with a commercial and critical thud, disappointing everyone. On paper, there were few bets better in 2007 than Reservation Road. It was helmed by the Oscar nominated writer/director of Hotel Rwanda, starred two Academy Award winning actresses and even an Oscar nominated actor. Yet, you’d be hard-pressed to find a single review of the film ranking it above the two and a half star level and it was snubbed by every major critics group.

It’s almost impossible for me to believe, despite the critical thrashing it took, that I somehow missed a film that falls into my absolute favorite film genre: Suburban American Nightmare. My love for this genre is so strong that two films from it were represented on my recent list of top ten list of favorite all-time films. I also thought Todd Field’s 2006’s masterpiece Little Children deserves to rank among the very best covering that territory and one of the finest films of this decade. Being that both films share one of my favorite actresses, there was even more reason to see this.

The list of great achievements in this genre are staggering; Ordinary People, The Swimmer, The Ice Storm, American Beauty, In The Bedroom, House of Sand and Fog. Some are better than others, a few even masterpieces, but they’re all worthy entries that say something important about how we live. We all gravitate to a certain type of film but I keep coming back to ones like these. They hit closest to home in the most literal sense for me. They explore real people struggling with real problems that, if executed under the best circumstances creatively, can give us insight into our own challenges.
Reservation Road is not up to the level of those aforementioned titles and I could see where some would find it a disappointment given the talent involved. There’s no question it could have been better and I’d probably believe anyone who tells me the critically acclaimed bestseller by John Burnham Schwartz (who also co-wrote this screenplay) is far superior. The film succeeds in realistically depicting the intimate details of a tragedy but is burdened with a problem, and it’s a fairly big one many won’t be able to get past.

The story rests on a giant coincidence the commercials and trailers for the film have gleefully bragged about. I know my limits and won’t attempt to defend it. It’s just bad screenwriting. If this script were written on spec, or probably by anyone other than an Oscar nominated screenwriter, it would be tossed in the trash and this project would have never gotten the green light. But I’m forgiving it because director/co-writer Terry George proceeds with it honestly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world how stupid it is. It’s dumb, but at least he knows not to take it TOO FAR.

As much as I'm reluctant to admit it, this coincidence makes for great drama and tension, and the film wouldn’t have been nearly as suspenseful without it. And two actors (in performances that ARE Oscar worthy) find emotional truth in the story even when at times George’s script can’t, while another actor turns what could have been a silly cliché into a real person. Saying that something isn’t nearly as bad as everyone else did isn’t exactly the most glowing endorsement, but I’m convinced a terrible film could be released in this genre and I’d still probably like it.

To its credit, Reservation Road wastes no time getting right down to business, opening with a horrifyingly realistic tragedy within its first few minutes. What works about this depiction is how the film doesn’t so much show us or tell us about the death 10-year-old Josh Learner (Sean Curley), but lets us instead feel it through through his parents, college professor Ethan (a scruffy, bearded Joaquin Phoenix) and his wife, Grace (Jennifer Connelly). We never actually hear the words “he’s dead” but we just know it because they know it. Under normal circumstances, an opening like this would just be an excuse for actors to indulge in over-the-top Oscar-baiting hysterics but Phoenix and Connelly are so restrained its scary. It would be irresponsible, not to mention insensitive, to say they act exactly like parents who lost their child (since everyone would react differently), but their believability is off the charts. They put on an acting clinic and what they do in the first twenty minutes help carry this entire story through, even when script problems intrude.

When Josh is tragically killed by a hit and run driver in front of a gas station and both parents, especially Grace, feel the burden of responsibility and guilt. The perpetrator is Dwight Arnow (Mark Ruffalo), a divorced attorney taking his son Lucas (Eddie Alderson) home to ex-wife Ruth (Mira Sorvino in a nothing role) after a Red Sox game when he makes the mistake of his life. Rather than stay and take responsibility for what he’s done, Dwight, in a state of panic, flees the scene and this begins a cat-and-mouse game of sorts.

What the film, and Ruffalo’s performance, captures so well about Dwight is that he isn’t an evil person, just a moron who’s screwed up one thing after another in his life, with this just being the latest and biggest. His ex-wife and her new husband justifiably can’t stand him and the only person able to look past his flaws is his own son, who he’s in danger of losing due to his own reckless stupidity.

As played by Ruffalo, it seems Dwight really wants to do the right thing, and many times he comes close to, but his cowardice simply prevents it. Being that Dwight is a lawyer and Ethan is obsessed with bringing to justice the man who ran down his son when the police fail him, the script sets up a very convenient coincidence. You can take a wild guess which lawyer Ethan happens to retain to help him out. If that wasn’t enough, George and Schwartz’s script add another coincidence on top of that involving the wives. If you want to talk hypothetically, I suppose in a town small enough these coincidences could occur, but then if it is wouldn’t it stand to reason Ethan would figure out fairly quickly who was responsible for the crime? Of course now I’m probably analyzing this more deeply than it deserves.
There are plot holes in this big enough to drive a tractor-trailer through but luckily George doesn’t draw attention to them and shows restraint instead, focusing mainly on the human aspect of the story. While Ethan becomes obsessed with finding his son’s killer it’s realistically grounded and he doesn’t come off as a crazed vigilante like Kevin Bacon’s character in Death Sentence.

The rift between Ethan and Grace over their son’s death feels real rather than manufactured and she doesn’t come off as an uncaring nag, but a concerned mother worried her husband is no longer capable of taking care of the child they have left (well played by Elle Fanning). Ethan and Dwight don’t become best buddies (which I expected they would) because Dwight’s constant anguish and guilt over the crime prevents it. George milks this situation for everything its worth as the two men dance around each other and await the moment Ethan will finally put the pieces together. The set-up may be dumb and recall a Lifetime Movie of The Week melodrama but there’s legitimate tension here that builds to an intelligent and exciting climax.

The material notwithstanding, this represents Joaquin Phoenix’s best acting work and it’s at least on par with his performance in Walk The Line. What amazed me was how controlled he remained in even the film’s more ludicrous moments, of which there are plenty. There were so many opportunities for him to fly off the rails but he never did, instead letting Ethan’s pain and anguish simmer.

With the similarly themed House of Sand and Fog and Little Children under her belt, Jennifer Connelly could be considered the reigning queen of the suburban nightmare film. The latter one had so many interesting things going on that at times she almost risked fading into the background. This part is much larger, almost polar opposite and requires her to do much more heavy lifting emotionally. As usual, she delivers and both her and Phoenix’s roles could have been so mishandled if played by other less talented performers. Ruffalo is just as strong and has the most challenging role of the three since he’s asked to do some admittedly silly things to service the film’s plot. Sorvino is completely wasted and given nothing to do, which is a shame, but hurts it her more than the picture.

This film may have fallen short in its quest to impress Oscar voters but the three main performances in it did warrant serious consideration. But 2007 was an unusually strong year for dark dramas so this would have probably been lost in the shuffle regardless of its problems. It was just a crowded field anyway. It’s almost unfair these actors had to work this hard to overcome the screenplay’s deficiencies but I’m glad they did. It’s a reminder of just how good they are and the reason this is worth watching. Reservation Road didn’t stand a chance during awards season but it sure is much better than it got credit for.