Smith's Verdict

Smith’s Verdict: ***1/2

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

What was it I said in my 2017 Review post about David Lowery’s experimental supernatural-based film “A Ghost Story”?*

“I just didn’t get it. I know many critics are praising this film as one of the best of the year, and I admire what director David Lowery attempted to do with this untraditional “ghost story.” But it just didn’t do anything for me, except cause me to wonder, “I hope Rooney Mara truly enjoyed that pie.” But I dunno, maybe I need to see it again…”

Oh, and see it again, I did…about five or six times. No joke—I checked out the DVD from my local library about five or six times, simply because…I wanted to see it again. Maybe “see it again” isn’t the right expression; “experience it again” is more appropriate for this film.

Here’s how it goes. Casey Affleck (“C”) and Rooney Mara (“M”) play a young couple living a comfortable life in rural Texas. Their relationship is rocky, as he’s an aspiring musician who is so wrapped up in his craft that he puts most things aside, including her. Before we even have much of a chance to get to know them, he dies in a car accident. After she identifies the body at the hospital, he rises in the very sheet he’s covered with. (Thus, the ghost spends the rest of the film looking like a child’s Halloween costume, complete with two oval-shaped holes for his eyes to see through.) From that point forward, the silent and unseen C goes on an existential journey, going back to the house where he watches as M grieves and tries to go on with her life and ultimately becomes witness to events that occur in the present, the future, and even the past. (We also get somewhat of an answer as to why ghosts tend to make a mess of things in haunted houses in horror movies.)

The first time I saw “A Ghost Story,” it threw me off. I wasn’t sure what I was seeing, and I wasn’t sure writer-director Lowery was even sure of what he wanted his film to be. It’s a nontraditional ghost story that I think had something to say about existence and time, as it simply shows (with as little verbatim as possible) what a deceased person experiences in the afterlife. Even when I was watching it for the first time, I knew there were parts of it that were simply beautiful in effectively disturbing ways…then there were other parts that I thought could have been summed up a lot quicker than the film thinks we could understand. I mentioned in the aforementioned quote that “I hope Rooney Mara truly enjoyed that pie”—that’s in reference to a scene in which Rooney Mara, playing a widow in mourning, sits alone on her kitchen floor and, in one unbroken take, eats a pie in real time. We get it—she’s grieving, expressed through stress-eating. But we’re stuck watching this scene go on and on to the point where instead of feeling the appropriate emotions for the character, all I’m thinking is…”I hope Rooney Mara truly enjoyed that pie.”

(Side-note: She apparently did not. Who could blame her? It was made of vegan chocolate, according to IMDb Trivia.)

But yes, critics did praise “A Ghost Story” as one of the best films of 2017. Having it given it a few more chances, I can definitely say I see why. The film is a unique experience. It’s perhaps a little too full of itself, but I can’t deny it’s still unforgettable. Maybe I was a little too fidgety when I first saw it and wasn’t ready for this small film to enthrall me with its intriguing vision of the mysteries of life and death (and after that). But now, I admit, albeit ambivalently perhaps, that “A Ghost Story” is one of a kind and worth recommending. (I can’t even work up the nerve to give a three-star rating, so three-and-a-half it is.)

Lowery apparently loves to take us on a neat ride, with many twists and turns as he takes us through time, whether it’s forward or backward. It’s to his credit as a filmmaker that breaking traditions in a film’s usual timeline is one of the important things that makes “A Ghost Story” all the more intriguing. More importantly, he’s also not afraid to challenge viewers to think about their own existence as well as existence in general. We don’t get any easy answers, but the questions are worth discussing about. (Though, I could’ve done without the scene in which a would-be philosopher practically spells out the basic theme of the film—that’s the one scene that seemed forced to me.)

Better late than never. I may have misunderstood “A Ghost Story” the first time around. Maybe I didn’t even want to understand it. Either way it goes, here’s my apology for my first viewing…and also my apology to you for never taking Smith’s Verdict seriously again.

*2017 Review: https://smithsverdict.com/2018/01/09/2017-review/

Smith’s Verdict: ***1/2

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

2017 was undoubtedly a banner year for Stephen King in terms of media adaptations based on some of his works. Within just a couple of months (August 2017 to October 2017), there was a solid TV series based on his novel “Mr. Mercedes” (part of a trilogy, with a second season based on the second novel “Finders Keepers” getting a release), the cinematic version of his “It” became one of the highest grossing horror films of all time, and there were two other gripping King adaptations released exclusively to Netflix: “1922” (based on a King short story) and “Gerald’s Game.” One has to wonder what King did with his residual checks, but it’s good to know he has little reason to be ashamed (for the most part).**

“Gerald’s Game,” the subject of this review, is based on King’s 1992 novel with an interesting hook: a survival-thriller/character-study about a woman who is handcuffed to a bed in an isolated cabin…and is still bound when her husband suddenly dies of a heart attack. The admittedly-thin premise becomes a great conduit for terror and survival, but the novel is more about character than about horror. Who can come in to bring more humanity and depth to what would otherwise be a passable (but not particularly special) thriller? Mike Flanagan, the director of a tragic disintegrating family drama disguised as a supernatural thriller (“Oculus”), the prequel nobody wanted but became a well-crafted horror film with believable characters (“Ouija: Origin of Evil”), and a brilliant home-invasion thriller with unexpected twists (“Hush”).

Mike Flanagan is the best director working in the horror film genre recently, because he knows how to draw in an audience and keep them on-edge while treating them with respect. His films are chilling for all the right reasons. And that includes “Gerald’s Game,” which is faithful to its source material, and more.

As I mentioned, the central character, a woman named Jessie (Carla Gugino), spends most of the story handcuffed to a bed. This was part of a kinky sex game her husband Gerald (Bruce Greenwood) wanted to play with her at their remote vacation house, and it’s quite disturbing when the game consists of imagining rape with a captive. Jessie isn’t too eager to play, but she’s already tied to the bedposts when she calls out her husband on how sick his fantasy is. The married couple has already had problems before, and this role-playing game doesn’t make matters any better. Jessie demands Gerald unlock the cuffs, Gerald refuses…and then Gerald has a heart attack and dies. (Whoops.)

With no way of calling out for help and no one in the area plus a rabid stray dog that comes in the house to take bites out of Gerald’s corpse, Jessie is stuck on the bed, alone with her own thoughts as she tries to figure out how she’s going to get out of this predicament (if she ever does). Much of the novel is told through inner monologue and memory—how does Flanagan handle the delivery of exposition? By having Jessie partake in hallucinatory conversations with imaginary versions of Gerald and herself—these two sort of play as Jessie’s devil (Gerald) and angel (a stronger version of herself) on her shoulders, if you will. It’s an interesting move that’s played very effectively, and it also helps give more insight into Jessie’s thought process.

We get some good chilling moments of t&t (tension & terror) from the idea of the hungry meat-eating dog coming and going as he pleases to the possibility that there may actually be somebody coming into the house at night and not just another hallucination Jessie is imagining. And we also get compelling moments of survival that rival moments from “127 Hours” and “Buried” (two other movies in which a character is stuck in one place for a long period of time), such as how she manages to get drinks from a cup of water left on a shelf above the bed. But more importantly, “Gerald’s Game” works brilliantly as a character study. We get a well-rounded portrait of Jessie, not just with fantasy conversations with manifestations of her fear and her strength but also with flashbacks that reveal the origins of her guilt and her mental bindings. These scenes involve Jessie’s father (played by a surprisingly chilling Henry Thomas), who does something more chilling and disturbing than anything the flesh-eating dog does in this film. With his other films, Flanagan has always shown how important his characters are while also remembering he’s still making horror films, and with “Gerald’s Game,” he knows how important King’s characters are as well.

The acting is top-notch. Carla Gugino is excellent as Jessie. She captures the weight of the situation her character feels throughout the film, and she’s able to play with different emotions she goes through, from fear to sadness to relief, among others. We like Jessie, sympathize with her, and root for her when she attempts the inevitable escape. But I can’t leave out Bruce Greenwood, who has an arguably trickier role—he not only has to play Gerald but he also has to play Jessie’s exaggerated version of Gerald.

There’s a 10-minute epilogue that ties up all loose ends in the film. In the novel, this took about 50 pages to wrap up and is considered to be some of King’s least successful writings. Seeing the film for the first time on Netflix, I thought the final 10 minutes was unnecessary. But seeing it again, I realized it was absolutely necessary. It gave Jessie the redemption she (and to an extent, we) needed after going through her own personal hell, and it made the film overall less of a standard horror film and more of an appreciated character drama.

Mike Flanagan knows what he’s doing. With “Oculus,” “Hush,” “Ouija: Origin of Evil,” “Before I Wake,” and “Gerald’s Game,” he’s already made five effectively solid horror films. Let’s hope for five more, because he knows what it takes to make us fear and, more importantly, he also knows what it takes to make us care. “Gerald’s Game” is probably his most accomplished work; Stephen King should be proud.

**Yes, there was also the badly publicized “Dark Tower” movie released in cinemas before any of those other projects. Why bring up the negatives when there were many positives

Smith’s Verdict: ***1/2

Reviewed by Tanner Smith

A man is addicted to porn. A woman is addicted to romance films. They go out together. But it doesn’t last. Not because one addiction gets in the way. But because both addictions don’t serve them well. The message of the film “Don Jon,” written and directed by (and starring) Joseph Gordon-Levitt, is that one-sided relationships lead to unhappiness.

And that’s the big surprise about the film that continued to impress me with repeated viewings: its ability to portray addiction in a way that affects romantic relationships. Addiction to anything can overwhelm someone’s life, but it can also impede on a promising relationship. “Don Jon” is a comedy, and it is a funny movie, to be sure. But its heavier aspects, while subdued, are more relevant to keep filmgoers coming back to it.

The film’s protagonist is Jon (Gordon-Levitt), a regular working-class New Jersey “guy’s guy”—works out, hangs out with his bros (Rob Brown & Jeremy Luc), and is all about the one-night stands, hooking up with random chicks he meets at the bar. But, as he explains in voiceover narration, even though he gets plenty of action from picking up random women nearly every night, nothing excites him more than climaxing while watching online pornographic videos. He loses himself in Internet porn because he can’t lose himself in real-life hookups, and so he can’t bring himself to any sort of commitment with any woman.

Jon has a pattern he repeats throughout his young-adult life that’s changed when he finds himself in an actual relationship, with a gorgeous blonde named Barbara (played by Scarlett Johansson). (Every other girl he picks up is either an “8” or a “9,” whereas Barbara is a “10,” or a “dime.”) She’s a Jersey goddess who could make any man’s dream come true, once said-man has cracked her tough shell. She teases Jon and promises a lot but keeps things on hold, thus giving Jon more of a challenge—one that makes him more active in attempts to please her. But as the relationship continues, Jon realizes more and more how unhealthy it is. Sex with her is disappointing, because there’s still something missing. It’s also abundantly clear that just as Don is addicted to a fantasy world given to him by porn, Barbara is addicted to a fantasy world given to her by theatrical romances. Both addictions give them different visions for ideal partners, which is what Jon ultimately realizes, thanks to encounters with Esther (Julianne Moore), an older classmate at a local community college. She’s more experienced in life and in romantic relationships and is able to let Jon know a thing or two.

“Don Jon” is a dark comedy with important matters to address when it isn’t making us laugh. It has quite a few things to say about the shallow ways men attempt (or even don’t bother to attempt) ways to relate to women, and vice versa, and there are things that are said about how different forms of entertainment can mold someone’s way of thinking toward the opposite sex. Therein lies the problem with Jon and Barbara’s relationship—they don’t know a thing about how to really relate to someone romantically; they’re both getting their imaginations from something that does not come from a real place (for Jon, it’s porn; for Barbara, it’s Hollywood writing). That’s what makes Jon’s friendship with Esther, which develops into something more as the film continues, all the more special, because Jon is learning more about what it really means to connect with somebody personally, which a lot of people will say is the ultimate key to any working relationship. (Esther even warns Jon at one point, after spying him watching porn on his phone in class, that the activity he watches isn’t real.)

(By the way, if you’re wondering, yes, there are bits and pieces of Internet porn videos scattered throughout the film, which do contain nudity. The film is rated R, so there isn’t much pornographic activity that would supply an NC-17. Even this plays an interesting role—in order to further the point that porn is nothing like the way things are in real life, the physical activity between the actors is more subdued, meaning not much revealed skin.)

Oh, and there’s also a subplot including Jon’s family, such as his overbearing father (Tony Danza) and shrill mother (Glenne Headly)—these two are funny but not very necessary, in my opinion. (I don’t think we need to be shown that Jon gets his chauvinism from the way his parents relate to one another.) But out of those scenes comes an effective mike-drop of a resolution for Jon’s sister (Brie Larson), who spends most of her screen time playing with her cellphone silently. She’s the Quiet Observer, not unlike Silent Bob in Kevin Smith’s films, who speaks only when the protagonist needs to hear something very important. When her time comes, it’s wonderful.

Gordon-Levitt, already proven to be a fully capable actor, proves with “Don Jon” to also be a fully capable writer/director. The way he shapes the story is effective, even in the ways he shows how repetitive his character’s life is in early-to-mid stages of the film (the concept of “routine” isn’t always successful in other movies). He also has an ear for the way people talk and communicate with one another, whether personal or casual, making for some really good dialogue for his actors (and himself) to deliver. And of course, he delivers a great performance in a role that could’ve easily been detestable.

In the end, Jon learns how to lose himself in someone he actually wants to share a deep connection with (and who actually wants to do the same with him). And it’s taught in a way that a lot of people could learn from as well, particularly those who are merely obsessed with “image.” Best of all, it doesn’t feel artificial or forced—despite the film’s quick pace, there are still ways for Gordon-Levitt to find ways for story aspects to occur more or less naturally. Small flaws be damned (I already mentioned how Jon’s parents’ scenes didn’t really work for me), “Don Jon” is a terrific film.