Hit Me with Your Best Shot: All That Heaven Allows (1955)

*This post is part of the "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" series at The Film Experience*

Many thanks to Nathaniel R at The Film Experience for reviving this series, bringing me back to this blog for the first time in three very long years. Dissertation writing probably won't allow me to do frequent posting, but let's see if we can revive this venture.

All That Heaven Allows is a film about contrasts. That's an oversimplification, of course, and very close to a Simpsons' quote. And yet, it fits the film well. The narrative, adapted by Peg Fenwick from a story by Edna L. Lee and Harry Lee, concerns Cary Scott (Jane Wyman), a well-to-do New England widow, who has fallen for her much younger arborist Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson), whom her adult children reject and the town judges in stares and whispers. Visually, director Douglas Sirk and cinematographer Russell Metty illustrate this binary by taking full advantage of Technicolor to paint the entire film in bold reds and deep blues. The reds, frequently worn by Wyman (including her auburn hair), consistently appear in relation to Cary's desire: they set her apart from the blues of conformity, the society that frowns upon her romance.

At home with her children

At a party

Ron, too, is often clad in red flannels. His incredible farmhouse is also a reddish hue, surrounded by the warm red and orange fall foliage. Inside, Cary and Ron kindle their love in the red glow of the fireplace. It's sensual, beautiful, and maybe a little obvious, but undoubtedly effective.

This is not meant to be dismissive of Sirk in any way; he and his films endured enough of that during his peak years, when the sweeping melodramas he directed were frequently dismissed as "women's films," only to be reconsidered with the rise of acolytes such as Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Pedro Almodóvar, John Waters, Todd Haynes, and Wong Kar-Wai, to name a few. The boldness of his colors though, and their significance, point to a significant cultural sea-change that the film dramatizes: a transition from Depression-era collectivism into a privileging of the individual. It's the unique dilemma of American liberal democracy to balance the rights of the individual with the needs of the collective, one without a single clear solution (which seems to be even more of fantasy now). The film is considered a repudiation of 1950s American social mores, yet politically speaking, the film rejects a conservative, judgmental, puritanical society in favor of a more libertarian vision in which Cary can love whomever she wishes, without judgment. Which makes the end of the film all the more ambivalent: while Cary may not be with Ron, she has taken hold of her agency. It's bittersweet, sure, but there's a maturity to that ambivalence that is missing from some of the era's most well-known films (and, certainly, from the Reagan-era rose-colored nostalgia that pervades to this day).

This is all a little academic, I admit, but it sets up my selection for best shot.

*Best shot*

Cary invites Ron to dinner with her children, Kay (Gloria Talbott) and Ned (William Reynolds). Both Kay and Ned disapprove of this relationship, and telegraph this clearly by standing on the staircase, coldly welcoming this man into their home. The color, however, is particularly interesting. Though he stands in the red light of the right side of the frame (thus remaining the object of Cary's desire), both Ron and Cary wear darker blues in their suit and dress, respectively. This is their attempt to fit their relationship into the expectations of her children (and thus, society), yet the night will not be a success. There's an ambivalence to the middle of the frame, however; the blues in Kay's and Ned's costumes are lighter than deeper blues of the film (and the left of the frame), and they're lit in the yellow glow of the chandelier - one of the only prominent uses of yellow in the film. They disapprove, sure, but it's not for social reasons: they're concerned more with what will happen to their childhood home if their mother sells it and moves in with Ron. It's more than just a collectivist vs. individualist conflict; it's here that the film challenges the binary that it set up for itself, suggesting a third option that could open to even more dimensions to the conflict. Though the color scheme, all primary colors, is relatively simple, it conveys the complexity of this interaction.

It's that complexity that makes All That Heaven Allows one of the finest Hollywood melodramas of the 1950s. Thank goodness the film, and Sirk's career as a whole, was reconsidered and elevated to one of the greats.

Where Has The Entertainment Junkie Been For the Last Year?

Hello again, one and all (and possibly only one)!

There hasn't been much activity in these parts over the last few years, as I'm sure you've noticed. I'm not particularly proud of that, and you may be wondering where I've been.

As in previous update posts, I'm still in grad school. I'm working on my doctorate at Boston University in American & New England Studies, with a focus on media studies within that field. Most of last year was spent preparing for my qualifying exams, which I am happy to announce I passed! So I am officially a PhD candidate now, and I am beginning work on my dissertation prospectus.

Here I am immediately after passing the exam.

What is my dissertation going to be about, you ask? It's evolving still, but I am going to examine the relationship between U.S. superhero media and war since WWII, particularly in how superheroes promote U.S. militarism and how the U.S. military engages with superhero media. I'm looking at comics, films, and television shows, though I'm still working out which case studies I will be working with. So far, I know I want to organize my chapters around particular figures, and I know that The Punisher and Watchmen will be two of my case studies.

This past fall, I also taught a class on U.S. war films in the sound era, focusing specifically on WWII, the Vietnam War, and the Iraq War. We looked at contemporaneous films from each war (Bataan for WWII, The Green Berets for Vietnam, The Hurt Locker for Iraq), as well as returning-veteran films (The Best Years of Our Lives, Coming Home, Home of the Brave), documentaries (Prelude to War, Hearts and Minds, The War Tapes), and "nostalgia" films (Saving Private Ryan, Platoon, American Sniper), with the goal of understanding how war films and warfare have changed over the past 100 years. It was an incredible experience - especially for my first time teaching solo - and I thank my wonderful students for making it so rewarding.

So, what comes next? Now that I'm mostly working on research and writing, I'm planning on resuming regular posts on this blog. My goal for this year is to publish something at least once a week, ideally twice a week. Some of these posts will be related to my research, as I work out my thoughts and ideas (I encourage your input in the comments, on these and all posts). Some will be reviews of films I've watched, and some will be about whatever is on my mind at the time. So, basically exactly what I was doing five years ago.

In the immediate future, be on the lookout for my top 10 list for 2019, the 10th Annual Jarmo Awards (can you believe it?!?), and my thoughts on what is shaping up to be one of the least interesting Oscar seasons that I can remember.

Thanks for reading, and I'll post again soon!

The 9th Annual Jarmo Awards

*I only now realized that I never hit publish on this. So, a full year later, here are the 9th annual Jarmo Award winners!*

BEST ACTRESS

Toni Collette, Hereditary

Runner-up: Charlize Theron, Tully

Finalists: Elsie Fisher, Eighth Grade; Anna Kendrick, A Simple Favor; Amandla Stenberg, The Hate U Give

Look, Toni has been doing truly transcendent work for years. There's no denying that. But with Hereditary, she's not only taken a lead role, but she's proven that horror is the genre where she does her best work. I dare you watch her dinner table scene - where she wishes she were never a mother - and not feel some degree of sympathy for her grieving mother Annie, a woman who's inherited (hint hint) a legacy of grief and depression with little guidance of how do deal with the loss of a child (how could any of us?). Colette fearlessly lets us experience the visceral rage that comes with such a loss, as irrational at it seems but as visceral as its felt, and transforms into the type of role that most actors only wish they could embody. Colette's performance may have been overlooked by Oscar, but it's only because she's on another level than the rest of the field. Here's hoping she has the opportunity to prove her immense talent outside of the horror genre (though there is certainly no shame in being the greatest horror actress to date).

BEST ACTOR

Bradley Cooper, A Star is Born

Runner-up: Lakeith Stanfield, Sorry to Bother You

Finalists: John Cho, Searching; Ben Foster, Leave No Trace; Ryan Gosling, First Man

Why does Oscar hate romantic male leads so much? That is the question I have leading into February's ceremony: no matter Rami Malek's technical prowess in representing a Freddie Mercury that Bohemian Rhapsody actively resists, Cooper fully embodies a past-his-prime country-rock star trying to make do with a shifting pop landscape. Everything from the subtle way in which he tilts his head (reflecting the hearing loss that's briefly explicitly addressed but forms the unheralded texture of his performance) to his straightforward singing ("Maybe It's Time" is the film's largely unsung (no pun intended) highlight) points to a past-his-prime star intend on helping the next generation survive in a ruthless pop music industry. Cooper wisely keeps his remove, creating a character who at once understands how the industry works but isn't happy with the direction it moves in. He should have been an Oscar winner, had the Academy not been weirdly resistant to romantic male leads. Here's hoping he eventually receives his Oscar due, but this will be a hard performance to top.

More winners after the jump.

The Entertainment Junkie's Top Ten Films of 2018

Guess who's back from another year-long blogging sabbatical! One of these days I actually will find a way to maintain a blog-school-life balance, but until then, I present to you my top ten list of 2018. Now, I feel like this shouldn't need to be said, but this list only represents my personal favorite films from the past year - it is not objective nor is it completist. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and maybe discover something new!

(I'll have the Jarmos posted sometime in the next month - I really just wanted to get this up before the Oscars started).

10. Hereditary (dir. Ari Aster)

The horror in Hereditary sneaks up on you. For the first third of the movie, you're not entirely sure what to expect as you watch this family - Annie (Toni Collette), Steve (Gabriel Byrne), Peter (Alex Wolff), and Charlie (Milly Shapiro) - barely holding themselves together as Annie struggles with a dark history. Then, out of the blue, THAT happens - a moment so sickening plausible that it elicited all sorts of pained reactions from the audience I saw it with - and all hell breaks loose. Despite the film's more Satanic turn, however, the real horror is what was there from the very beginning: the traumas we inherit from our families, and how those traumas become an inescapable part of who we are. First-time filmmaker Aster constructs a delicate film to explore these ideas, but the whole endeavor is anchored by Collette's volcanic performance as a woman so traumatized that the latest grief finally breaks her. The contortions of her face in a chilling dinner scene are just as terrifying as anything else in the film. I saw this film in mid-summer, and I've yet to shake it. Perhaps that's the point.

9. Crazy Rich Asians (dir. Jon M. Chu)

Much of the praise for Crazy Rich Asians centered around one embarrassing fact: this was the first studio-produced Hollywood film with an all-Asian cast in 25 years. The film, therefore, would have been a representational triumph if nothing else. It's more than that, of course: it's a winning romantic comedy that provides everything you want from the genre - hunky men, lavish weddings, upbeat pop songs in makeover montages - with an eye toward the culturally-specific issues at the heart of the film. Rachel (Constance Wu, wonderful) accompanies her boyfriend Nick (Harry Golding) to Singapore for a wedding, only to discover that is family is one of the wealthiest on the island. Nick's disapproving mother, Eleanor (the terrific Michelle Yeoh), presents a dilemma: Nick must choose between his family and Rachel. If you've seen a romantic comedy before, you'll think you know where this is going. But the film, magnificently directed by Chu, dances around those expectations in ways that make the genre's conventions feel fresh and particular to this story. Plus there's plenty of spectacle to look at, to the point where it often feels like the film is about to tilt into a full-fledged musical. Few films matched the levels of joy Crazy Rich Asians reached this year.

More after the break.

The 8th Annual Jarmo Awards

*HERE BE SPOILERS: the capsules for these awards occasionally discuss significant plot points, so be aware.*

That's right, everyone, it's time for the 8th Annual Jarmo Awards! For those who are new to the site, the Jarmos are like the Oscars, but with a few different categories and significantly less hoopla. This year features plenty of noteworthy achievements, some that will be familiar and some that have gone unheralded throughout the awards season. These are my personal favorites from 2017, based on what I viewed, so feel free to chime in in the comments and tell me why I'm completely wrong.

And...look, I know I say this every year, but if any of the winners want to come claim their reward, let me know and I will put something together for you. No one has done it yet, so come be the first! It's exciting! You'll have a bullshit entertainment award that no one else has!

BEST ACTRESS

Saoirse Ronan, Lady Bird

Runner-up: Gal Gadot, Wonder Woman

Finalists: Sally Hawkins, The Shape of Water; Jennifer Lawrence, mother!; Daisy Ridley, Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Saoirse Ronan is very easily among the best actors working today, which she proves with her wondrous performance in Greta Gerwig's directorial debut Lady Bird. Ronan has been turning in great work for years now, going back to her surprising Oscar-nominated turn in Atonement ten years ago. But Lady Bird McPherson is sneaky-best performance to date; I note "sneaky" because Ronan makes it look so effortless. Ronan makes all of Lady Bird's glorious contradictions come to life: a headstrong attitude that is as performative as it is honest, from her insistence that everyone call her "Lady Bird" (for no reason other than it's what she wants to be called) through her slippage between the theater kids and the popular girls. Ronan absolutely sells the idea that this is a young girl who thinks she knows exactly who she is yet constantly tries on different personas; she is, in other words, a teenager on the precipice of adulthood. And Ronan embraces that messiness in her performance. It's hard to believe Ronan is only 23; there are so many more great performances ahead of her.

BEST ACTOR

Daniel Kaluuya, Get Out

Runner-up: Hugh Jackman, Logan

Finalists: Timothée Chalamet, Call Me By Your Name; James McAvoy, Split; Kumail Nanjiani, The Big Sick

Horror performances, in general, don't get enough respect: too often characterized as just screaming and panic, the best reveal layers of character that aren't on the page and create a palpable sense of dread that the character might not make it to the end of the film (Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween and Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby immediately come to mind). But even among great horror performances, Kaluuya's work in Get Out stands out as one of the genre's best. As Chris, the boyfriend brought to his white girlfriend's (Allison Williams) home to meet her parents, Kaluuya never overplays his character's incredulity at the barrage of microaggressions he weathers from Rose's seemingly well-meaning parents (Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener). It's a performance that many people of color have called completely relatable, and Kaluuya wisely lets those moments sit on their own. Once the third-act reveal shifts the dynamic of the guest and his hosts, however, Kaluuya's performance maintains everything we already know about the character while shifting into his new role as "Final Girl" (to borrow Carol Clover's infamous term). Kaluuya, previously magnetic in small roles in films such as Sicario, fully deserves more leading roles in the future after earning his place in the Horror Acting Hall of Fame.

More winners after the jump.

The Entertainment Junkie's Top 10 Films of 2017

"Audacity" is the unofficial theme of my top 10 list for the past year. While it seemed like the world was burning for most of 2017, filmmakers produced a number of daring and delightful films that challenged viewers even as they entertained. Below are ten films that exemplify this theme, whether in subject matter or approach. And as always, this list is merely reflective of my own preferences in the films I saw this year. It is in no way meant to be definitive or all-encompassing, so please don't treat it that way. Enjoy it instead!

10. Baby Driver (dir. Edgar Wright)

Seeing "A Film by Edgar Wright" conjures certain expectations. Best known for his "Cornetto Trilogy" with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, The World's End), Wright's name immediately conjures expectations of clever action comedies that have a sharp sense of editing and riff on popular genres. Baby Driver, however, is something else. First, it's not a comedy: even though it has funny moments, Wright flexes the genre skills he honed in his earlier satirical films. It's an action movie, but of the old-school variety: Baby (Ansel Elgort) is the getaway driver doing one last job before he's out of his debt to Doc (Kevin Spacey). It's also a musical, not in the sense that characters suddenly break into song, but that music is so essential to the film's style that the soundtrack influenced how Wright and his team assembled the film in the editing bay. The result is a film that buzzes along on its own livewire energy, proprolsively moving forward through a cast - including Jamie Foxx, Eiza González, and Jon Hamm - completely in tune with Wright's rat-a-tat rhythms. In a summer full of by-the-numbers blockbusters, Baby Driver was a welcome burst of ingenuity.

9. Dunkirk (dir. Christopher Nolan)

Speaking of blockbusters, the form's reigning maestro, Christopher Nolan, returned to multiplexes with a curveball from someone best known for making twisty sci-fi extravaganzas: a World War II film. It is always a mistake to assume Nolan would do something straightfoward, however. Focusing on the famed evacuation of British troops - surrounded by German forces - from the French commune of Dunkirk (Dunkerque) in 1940, Dunkirk is Nolan's most pure action film, going long stretches without any dialogue and many scenes where dialogue is barely intelligible. The film vividly conveys the chaos of battle and the scale of the evacuation, in large part thanks to Hoyte Van Hoytema's gorgeous 70mm cinematography (the larger format makes focus sharper within the image, effectively dwarfing characters on the expanse of the beach). The most impressive feature of the film, however, may be its nesting-doll narrative structure following the action from the point of view of soldiers escaping (Fionn Whitehead and Aneurin Barnard), British civilians in personal boats coming across the Channel for assistance (Mark Rylance), and fighter pilots protecting the evacuation from the air (Tom Hardy and Jack Loudon). With a persistently tick-tocking score from Hans Zimmer underlying each, all three threads eventually converge in an exhilarating climax that is at once classically Nolan and unlike anything he's done yet. That serves as perhaps the biggest twist of the film: it makes a well-worn genre feel fresh again.

Numbers 8-1 after the jump.

"Okja" (2017)

*This review discusses major plot points, all of which are after the page break. You've been warned.*

Okja, the latest film from Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho, first made waves at this year's Cannes Film Festival, where the Netflix-produced and distributed film entered the Official Competition. This caused quite a stir on the Palais, where many critics and exhibitors questioned whether the film should be eligible for the competition since it was largely bypassing theaters in favor of debuting on the streaming platform. France is particularly protectionist of its film industry, and the government has passed laws in recent years aimed at curbing the proliferation of streaming and protecting the interests of theater owners and exhibitors. Netflix's decision to bypass French theaters irked many, ultimately leading the company to relent and open the film in a few theaters and the festival to enact a new bylaw preventing films from entering the main competition without securing French theatrical distribution (this isn't unique to France either; in Bong's native South Korea, several major theater chains threatened to boycott showing the film if Netflix didn't wait three weeks after the theatrical release to stream it in the country).

While the film itself certainly can't be faulted for the controversies surround its exhibition, it is fitting that Okja is under scrutiny for the effects of late capitalism. The film is, essentially, a critique of late capitalism dressed up as a charming story of a young girl and her pet genetically-modified "super-pig." The girl, Mija (Ahn Seo-hyun), is the granddaughter of a Korean farmer who was one of 24 global recipients of a "super-piglet" from the Mirando Corporation, a chemical company-turned-agricultural giant run by Lucy Mirando (Tilda Swinton). Lucy plans to unveil the super-pigs through a "best pig" competition that presents the creature as a locally-sourced, completely natural organism that is environmentally friendly to boot, rather than the factory-grown-and-slaughtered GMOs going into the company's new sausages. Mija's pig, Okja, is selected by the company's Steve Irwin-esque celebrity spokesman Johnny Wilcox (Jake Gyllenhaal) as the best pig, and so Okja is off to New York for the public unveiling. Mija follows her beloved pet and, with the help of the Animal Liberation Front, attempts to rescue Okja and expose the truth behind Mirando's super-pigs.

As in Bong's previous feature, Snowpiercer, Okja juggles multiple ideas and tones throughout its two-hour running time. He is not quite as successful at pulling off that trick as he has been in the past, but Okja is nonetheless a fascinating satire of globalized capitalism.

More *SPOILERS* after the break.

"Alien: Covenant" (2017)

*This review discusses significant plot points of the film. You've been warned.*

At this point, there are certain things that the audience expects from an Alien film. A group of people, usually in an enclosed space, will confront the threat of the xenomorph, a slimy, double-mouthed monster that bursts forth from the host's body and quickly grows into a gigantic, acid-blooded creature that exists solely to kill. This plot mimics the slasher film (which itself was relatively new at the time of the original's 1979 release), as each member of this unfortunate crew gets picked off one by one until there's only one survivor - typically a woman, exemplified by Sigourney Weaver's Ellen Ripley in the first four films of the franchise (Alien, 1986's Aliens, 1991's Alien 3, and 1997's Alien: Resurrection). Chests will burst, acid blood will spurt, and the survivor will live only to come face-to-face with the phallic-domed beastie in the next film.

Alien: Covenant - the sixth film in the franchise overall, but the sequel to the 2012 prequel Prometheus - covers all of these bases well. The crew of the Covenant - a massive spaceship carrying thousands of colonists (all couples) and embryos to a new planet far away from Earth - wake from their cyrogenic sleep after an energy blast damages their ship. While conducting the repairs, the crew picks up a mysterious signal, which leads them to a planet that's almost exactly like Earth - so much so, it seems like a paradise. The ship's captain, Orem (Billy Crudup), is convinced by the rest of the crew, led by Daniels (Katherine Waterston), to send a team down to investigate whether the planet is as habitable as it appears. The result, of course, is less paradise and more living hell.

More *SPOILERS* after the jump.

Brief Thoughts on the 69th Annual Emmy Awards Nominations

The nominations for the 69th Annual Emmy Awards were announced this morning, and this year the Academy unleashed quite a few surprises. HBO's perennial juggernaut Game of Thrones is absent after not airing any episodes during the eligibility period, yet the network still reigned supreme with 110 total nominations. Netflix, however, followed close behind with 91 total nominations, and both platforms far outpaced their closest competition, NBC (60). The latter's Saturday Night Live was recognized for it's return to the zeitgeist with 22 nominations, matching HBO's new science-fiction/Western hybrid Westworld (22) for the most among programs. Those programs were followed by Netflix's retro sci-fi/horror Stranger Things and FX's Ryan Murphy-produced showbiz anthology series FEUD: Bette & Joan with 18 nominations apiece. The reigning winner of Best Comedy Series, HBO's Veep, led all comedies with 17 nominations.

 Stranger Things

The wider variety of choices available in the era of "Peak TV" and the Academy's new online voting system seems to have shaken up their selections. Sure, voters stubbornly refuse to let Modern Family slip from the Best Comedy Series lineup, where Atlanta is the only debutante in a season that saw a wide range of new comedies debut. Best Drama Series, on the other hand, sees five first-time nominees among its seven honorees, and all five of those series are in their first season. Plus, the nomination for The Handmaid's Tale marks Hulu's breakthrough at the Emmys, joining fellow streaming sites Netflix and Amazon. Best Limited Series - which is tailor-made for anthology dramas - saw both American Horror Story and American Crime fall away in favor of "event series" Big Little Lies and The Night Of from HBO, suggesting that maybe the self-contained miniseries isn't dead yet (those rumors of more Lies be damned). And the new Best Variety Sketch Series opened the doors for IFC's Documentary Now! and truTV's Billy on the Street to be recognized alongside Saturday Night Live and Portlandia as sketch comedy continues to blossom critically once again.

The full list of nominees can be found here. My thoughts on the biggest surprises and snubs can be found after the jump.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot: "The Parent Trap" (1961)

*This post is part of the "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" blogathon at The Film Experience*

I grew up watching the The Parent Trap a lot. Not the 1961 version starring Hayley Mills, which is the subject of this post, but rather Nancy Meyers' surprisingly faithful 1998 remake that introduced the world to Lindsay Lohan. I'm not even sure that I remember why: I don't think my family owned it on VHS, but I distinctly remember seeing it frequently. In any case, I know that version well enough that, watching the 1961 original for the first time, I was struck by how well I could remember the remake and play "spot the difference" even though it's been at least a decade since I've seen Meyers' version. But "spot the difference" isn't the reason we're here, is it?

The Parent Trap stars Mills, then coming off her starmaking performance in Pollyanna the previous year, in the dual role of Susan Evers and Sharon McKendrick, twins separated shortly after they were born who are reunited by chance at summer camp. Susan lives in California with her father, Mitch (Brian Keith), while Sharon lives in Boston with her mother, Maggie (Maureen O'Hara). After realizing that their single parents are in fact their parents, the girls set in motion an elaborate plan to reunite the broken family by switching places. Their plan faces a major obstacle, however, when Mitch reveals his engagement to Vicky (Joanna Barnes), who wants to marry into Mitch's considerable fortune.

The film is an eclectic mix of genres: a screwball farce, a romantic comedy, a family drama, all wrapped up in a Disney-approved family-friendly bow with a few nods to teen rock 'n' roll flicks to boot. What's perhaps most surprising about the film is how the film shifts between these modes fluidly while maintaining the distinctions between them. The film is never really so much a genre blender as it is a genre buffet: some exaggerated mischief here, an emotional realization there, but not letting anything on the metaphorical plate touch.

More after the jump.