Showing posts with label Linda Cardellini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linda Cardellini. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
Green Book
Director: Peter Farrelly
Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Mahershala Ali, Linda Cardellini, Dimiter D. Marinov, Mike Hatton, Iqbal Theba, Sebastian Maniscalco, Von Lewis
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG-13
★★★ (out of ★★★★)
If you're going to make a film set in the past or present that in any way touches on the issue of racism, it's best to prepare yourself. Make sure you have all your bases covered, do your homework, insure there aren't any inaccuracies and brace for the inevitable backlash. What the backlash will be or why it exists may as well be anyone's guess, but when you tackle a topic as sensitive as this and it's based on a true story, at least some controversy is inevitable. Peter Farrelly found this out the hard way upon signing on to co-write and direct Green Book, a film detailing the bond that develops between a renowned African-American pianist and an Italian bouncer when the latter serves as the musician's driver and bodyguard for his 1962 Deep South concert tour.
Covering a shameful part of U.S. history while keeping a relatively light tone in the face of its deadly serious subject matter was enough to raise eyebrows in a year that saw Black Panther and BlackKklansman nominated for Best Picture. That it was made by the director of Dumb and Dumber and drew comparisons to Driving Miss Daisy would seem to be the final straw, until it actually won the top prize on Oscar night, defeating films considered more progressive and a better indication of where we're culturally headed. If rumors are true, Farrelly's picture turns back the clock to when Hollywood was only capable of telling the stories of black people through white characters, and a show of support is akin to a vote for the establishment.
Of course, none of these aforementioned points have anything to do with the movie Green Book. and when you actually sit down to watch it, that all turns into background noise. It's not that the controversy should be casually dismissed, but rather it becomes a major distraction when trying to form even the most subjective opinions on the film. That it's inspired this much debate is a credit to the picture, but eventually you reach a place where even that needs to be shelved in order to examine what's directly in front of you. Some may wonder what all the fuss was about, as the most noteworthy thing about it just might be how competently made and inoffensive it is.
Frank "Tony Lip" Vallelonga (Viggo Mortensen) is a New York City bouncer working at the Copacabana when he gets word that the nightclub is temporarily closing for renovations and he'll need to find a paying job for the next couple of months in order to continue providing for his wife, Dolores (Linda Cardellini) and their young kids. So when a call goes out looking for a driver, Tony arrives for an interview above Carnegie Hall to meet a man referred to as "Doc." The doc in question is African American pianist, Don Shirley (Mahershala Ali), who's looking for a driver and bodyguard for his eight-week concert tour through the Midwest and Deep South.
Hailing from what seem like entirely different worlds, the refined, cultured musician hires the tough talking Italian from the Bronx, with the record label supplying Tony with a copy of the Green Book, a guide specifically detailing all the motels, restaurants and gas stations that will serve African Americans. They clash almost immediately as the awkwardness of the foul-mouthed, bigoted Tony cheuffering a highly educated black man through the Deep South in the '60's is matched only by their wildly differing dispositions. But as the trip progresses, they start to find a common ground, as Tony is impressed by Don's talent as a musician while simultaneously being appalled at the treatment he receives by the racist white audiences he performs for.
If plenty of comparisons have already been made to a reverse Driving Miss Daisy in terms of both plot and tone, the road trip aspect of the story actually comes closer to recalling Planes, Trains and Automobiles, minus the two former means of transportation. There are many moments and extended sequences that tackle the racism Don faces at nearly every stop, but a lot of the picture frequently consists of scenes of them arguing and offending each another, like a bickering odd couple of sorts. It's here where the script does actually resemble a more traditional Farrelly project, even if no one would ever think to confuse it with a conventional comedy.
That those scenes co-exist alongside more unnerving ones involving racism in which Don is bailed out of potentially volatile situations by Tony have lead to complaints about this being the latest example of Hollywood's "white guilt," or perceived inability to tell stories about African American characters unless it's filtered through the heroics of some kind of white savior. But that doesn't seem fair in this case since this is one of those rare cinematic interpretations of "true events" (co-written by Tony Vallelonga's son Nick) that gets most of its facts right, to the point that it was even approved by the two protagonists before their recent passings. And despite recent complaints from Don Shirley's family that their relationship to him was misrepresented or accusations that Don's homosexuality is brushed under the rug, neither of those issues seem particularly relevant to the film or what it's about. Especially the former, which isn't even really addressed enough to warrant such a negative reaction.
Through Mahershala Ali's performance, we recognize that this a story as much about identity as race, with Don having earned the respect of white society as a musician of considerable talent, worthy of playing their parties if only so they can feel more cultured and refined. But the second that playing ends, it's clear he hasn't earned that respect from them as a human being because of the color of his skin. He can't eat at the restaurants where he performs or use their bathrooms, and he also feels like an outsider at the predominantly black "Green Book" motels at which he stays since his station in life differs so drastically from theirs.
Everything from Ali's posture, to how succinctly he speaks each word is not only meant to reflect an individual with impeccable class and intelligence, but someone repressed and hurt enough to use it as an armor to deflect the prejudice he encounters. Playing Don as outwardly cool and composed, Ali just barely lets us see through the cracks to the suffering, which makes it all the more difficult to watch. Tony has no identity crisis, as he's unapologetically himself in the most blunt, abrasive way possible, often to his own detriment.
Tony's bigotry comes mostly from ignorance, but even he has to draw the line when he sees how disrespected his boss is, accurately assessing that if Don is permitted to perform in these establishments, it's insane that he's forbidden to sit and eat there. Transforming himself by adding more than a few extra pounds and a Bronx accent, Mortensen's portrayal of Tony is definitely one of his more entertaining turns if only because we've never seen the actor, who's known for darker, more intense roles, tackle anything so over-the-top before. He becomes the perfect foil for the more subdued Ali, who feels more like the film's true lead, regardless of how they were categorized during awards season.
That most were ready to tear this effort to shreds sight unseen doesn't mean it isn't still a fairly predictable, crowd-pleasing picture that recalls a simpler time in Hollywood when no one was afraid to rock anyone's boat when handling potentially delicate material. Farrelly doesn't take risks or push any buttons in delivering a satisfying, heartwarming story that confronts racism, sometimes powerfully. And while most of that power comes from the performances, the one thing that's been lost in the conversation is the film's actual quality, which will ultimately have the final say in determining how well or poorly Green Book will age. Even if the reaction it's garnered may build the best argument yet for the Best Picture Oscar as a snapshot of the year in which it was released. For better or worse.
Saturday, February 11, 2017
The Founder
Director: John Lee Hancock
Starring: Michael Keaton, Nick Offerman, John Carroll Lynch, Linda Cardellini, Patrick Wilson, B.J. Novak, Laura Dern
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: PG-13
★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
When we first meet Ray Kroc, a failed traveling salesman in his early fifties from Illinois, he's peddling industrial milkshake mixers to uninterested restaurant owners. That is until he meets the McDonald brothers, the only two guys crazy enough to buy from him. What happens when Ray goes out to their San Bernadino, California diner in 1954 is not only one of the most memorable sequences in John Lee Hancock's The Founder and the story's catalyst, but a love letter to the power of creativity and amazement. If it was hard to grasp just how revolutionary the concept of McDonald's was at the time, Ray's reaction to getting his burger in 30 seconds in disposable wrapping as families enjoy their meals next to him, tells you all there is to know. You can see and feel exactly why he's so bowled over by it, and watching the scene, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's the greatest idea that ever was. At the time, and even today, there's a lot of truth in that. But an idea is just that until it becomes something more. Something bigger. Ray Kroc liked to think big and after years of hawking bad products, he knew a sure bet when he saw it. What he lacked in creativity he made up for ten times over in persistence and business savvy. A visionary who saw the limitless potential in someone else's concept, he ran with it in a way they couldn't, morality and consequences be damned.
At its core, The Founder really boils down to one question: At what point does an idea become so great that it needs to be shared with the world? And once it is, what's the cost? The answer to that casts a shadow over the film that completely reframes Ray's aforementioned visit to McDonald's Burgers in San Bernardino and his contagious enthusiasm. He was right to do whatever it took to push this through just as the McDonald brothers were in fighting to preserve the integrity of their creation every step of the way. And just as he was wrong to screw them out of what was rightfully theirs, an equally strong case can be made for their inflexibility and resistance to change. And yet the man we see at the end, as ethically compromised as he is, still strangely remains very much the same one we met at the beginning. That's the true genius in Michael Keaton's complicated, unfairly overlooked performance, which already seems destined to go down as one of the most underappreciated of his career.
The arrival of Ray Kroc (Keaton) at McDonald's Burgers represents for Dick (Nick Offerman) and Mac (John Carroll Lynch) and Mac McDonald to correct an opportunity they let slip through their fingers once before. An unsuccessful previous attempt to franchise out their revolutionary fast food burger joint was marred by the challenge of maintaining the same high level of customer service and food quality throughout the chain. Enter Kroc. The brothers are approached, and actually somewhat stalked, by the Prince Castle salesman who's so impressed with their unique business model emphasizing a speedy food delivery service that keeps costs down, he wants to hear their story. And it's a pretty amazing one, as they tell him how they started out in the movie industry before eventually landing in the food service business, which they thought was in serious need of some tweaking. Chalk diagrams on a tennis court provided the blueprints for what would become McDonald's kitchen, with each station serving a specific function in getting quality food to the customer as quickly as possible. No more waiting at drive-ins.
While Dick's heavily skeptical of Ray's interest from the onset, Mac's convinced they finally found the guy that understands their product and can help them fulfill their dreams of expansion. After appealing to their sense of patriotism, envisioning the golden arches side by side with American flags and church steeples across the nation, they reluctantly agree to a deal. And while it initially does seem to be the perfect match for all involved and Ray makes some smart decisions, the brothers' traditional approach soon clashes with his towering ambition. Mortgaging his home while sacrificing his marriage to wife Ethel (Laura Dern), he continues expansion at a rapid rate, soon realizing this will never work unless he hires the right people and gets out from under the thumb of the brothers, who have him locked in a contract mandating them final say on any new idea he has. In order to succeed Ray will have to get creative, even if the morally questionable moves he makes in the name of business could forever taint his claim as the true "founder" of McDonald's.
If Ray sees dollar signs the first time he lays eyes on the brothers' establishment, there's also a certain admiration and respect for what they created, as well as a desire to prove to everyone he isn't the failure they believe him to be by shepherding it to greater success. While he likes the brothers, he also knows they're gullible and not businessmen, which could explain why they were presumably taken for a ride in their last attempt to franchise. They need him just as much as he needs them if there's any desire in the brothers to build on their creation. And Ray isn't kidding himself on his own prospects either. He's at an age where this is clearly his last shot and he's already looked at as a joke by he and his wife's country club contemporaries, who can't wait to get in on the action when they realize his latest dream could actually bare financial fruit.
Ray's complete rejection of these rich, retired country clubbers' investment in this franchising when he recognizes their laziness and lack of commitment is probably his finest hour. Seeing him outside the restaurant on his hand and knees cleaning up the trash, more determined than ever to hire those who work and care about quality is the strongest case to be made for him as a decent human being. That, and his willingness to hire anyone from any walk of life (sometimes right off the street) he feels will do a good job is another feather in his cap. And yet Ray is also one of the worst candidates to accumulate such success and wealth at this rapid a rate because he's been beaten down so long. With a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, he's like a kid in a candy store when given just a taste of it. Not only does he roll over the McDonald brothers, he basically discards Ethel at the first sight of Joan (Linda Cardellini), the captivating wife of a franchisee (Patrick Wilson).
Despite knowing the terms when he signed, you could see how the brothers' dismissal of every one of Ray's ideas as crass commercialism or off-brand send him over the deep end. Ray definitely doesn't play fair and surely doesn't care, but while even his more Machiavellian methods could be defended as necessary to getting McDonald's where it needs to go, it doesn't explain the lack of credit or compensation for them once it gets there. He'd explain it away by saying it was business but you can't help but think back to Dick's statement that they "let a wolf in the hen house." Toward the third act of the picture it becomes clear that they may have actually franchised out their company and lives to someone whose business ethics are more closely aligned with Daniel Plainview's from There Will Be a Blood.
The casting of Keaton as Kroc is nothing short of a masterstroke. He's so inherently likable as a scrappy underdog that it could seem incomprehensible he'd take the actions he does later if not for the fact that this is an actor equally skilled at going to those darker, unlikable places. John Lee Hancock (director of The Blind Side and writer of 1993's A Perfect World) hasn't necessarily made a dark film here, but against the bright, nostalgic hue of 1950's America gorgeously photographed by cinematographer John Schwartzman and memorably scored by Carter Burwell, is this undercurrent of greed and avarice. Most of that is provided by Keaton, who has to simultaneously juggle multiple balls in the air playing someone who could have easily been categorized as one-note meglomaniacal businessman in the hands of a lesser performer. We don't sense your typical "transformation," because what happens is exactly what Ray wanted to have happen the second he saw McDonald's Burgers.
That gleam in Keaton's eye was there when he stepped on the lot and it's up to audiences to reconcile that with what comes later. While a specifically memorable shot in the film directly references a key moment in Citizen Kane and while it shares similar themes, a better comparison might be The Social Network, as a rejected outcast finally gets the opportunity to prove himself, hurting those around him on his way to the top. This is Keaton's movie, as it should completely be, but Nick Offerman really shines in his best big screen role to date as the doubting Dick McDonald, who ends up getting sucked into this anyway despite all his initial misgivings about how it could adversely affect his brother's health.
Released with such little promotion and fanfare that few knew it existed at all, it almost seems fitting that the studio behind The Founder is embroiled in a lawsuit over how mismanaged its release actually was, potentially costing Keaton another shot at an Oscar, this time for a performance that certainly would have otherwise gotten awards attention. Someone dropped the ball, which is a shame considering it's exactly the kind of film we need right now, and one of a select few this year that says as much about the times we live in now as the seemingly bygone era during which it took place. Hate or love Ray Kroc, there's no denying that what he did worked and had a serious effect on consumerism and branding all over the world, with its ripples still very much being felt today. How he did it should continue to be fodder for debate. You could say he drank the McDonald brothers' milkshake. And as an added insult, he used powdered milk.
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