2012 Muriels: The Game Plan

Hey folks. Sorry I haven’t updated this in forever, but I’ve been spending most of time online over at Facebook and Letterboxd. If you want to keep tabs on me, that’d be the place for it.

Anyhow, it just hit me that I only have about three months before Muriels ballots are due, and considering what a grind it is to finish my ballots on time every year, I’ve decided I need a game plan. So after looking at the list of movies I want to watch before the end of the year, I’ve decided to estimate how many movies, realistically speaking, I’ll make an effort to see before turning in my ballot.

In making this estimate, I’ve taken all the first-, second-, and third-tier priority movies from my huge “need to sees” list, paring away the ones that I’d like to see for some reason or other but which aren’t a huge priority. And to the list of keepers I’ve added the movies I plan on seeing with my family even if they’re not what I personally want to see, because that’s how it works when you’re married with a kid.

This brings me to 36 movies, or 12 per month. I can handle that. Of course, this game plan comes with some caveats:

1. It’s still October. So obviously, there’s plenty of year still ahead of me, and plenty of time for more releases to be announced later. These will be added to this list as I see fit.

2. I live in Ohio, not NYC or LA, so my access to the limited releases is limited. Columbus being Columbus, some arthouse titles might not make it here until weeks or months after they come out in the “major markets,” and who the hell knows if they’ll make it here before the Muriels deadline. Therefore, as I say every year, I’d be grateful if anyone could pass along screeners of any of these, especially the ones that aren’t currently scheduled to play Columbus and those that don’t have a DVD release date.

3. I prioritize mainly on the basis of three things- the director, advance or festival reviews from people I trust, and occasionally my feelings about the source material. The latter happens less frequently than the other two, but it does happen. For example, I’ve included Les Miserables on this list even if I’m not entirely sure about Tom Hooper as a filmmaker. But I’m willing to allow that my prioritization process isn’t perfect, and it could let some really good movies slip through the cracked. Therefore, if you feel like there are other titles on my full “need to see”list that you believe should be a higher priority for me, feel free to let me know in the comments section, either here or on Facebook or Letterboxd.

So here’s the list, which I’ve arranged by week of theatrical or home video release. The [number in brackets] denotes how much of a priority the movie is for me, unless of course it’s one of the previously-referenced see-it-with-family movies then never mind.

Now available via legal means:

- Goodbye First Love (Mia Hansen-Løve) [2] {now on DVD/Netflix}

Definitely a director to watch.

- I Wish (Hirokazu Kore-eda) [1] {now streaming on Netflix, 6 Nov on DVD}

Kore-eda’s never quite lived up to Maborosi and After Life, but he’s still pretty great.

- Looper (Rian Johnson) [2] {now in theatres, 31 Dec on DVD}

This + Moonrise Kingdom = Body of Work nomination for Bruce Willis, perhaps?

- Argo (Ben Affleck) [3] {now in theatres}

The Town was kind of a letdown, but I really liked Gone Baby Gone and it would probably be good to see this before it sweeps the Oscars, y’know?

- Cloud Atlas (The Wachowskis & Tom Tykwer) [2] {now in theatres}

When a movie gets reviews as polarized as this one, that makes it more interesting, don’t you find?

- Magic Mike (Steven Soderbergh) [3] {now on DVD}

Because of the director, duh. Also Matthew McConaughey is having a good year, which may sound surprising to everyone who hasn’t seen him in Reign of Fire.

November 2-8:

- The Day He Arrives (Hong Sang-soo) [3] {DVD}

Honger!

- Flight (Robert Zemeckis) [3] {wide release}

So good to see Denzel doing some real acting again. When was the last time he really swung for the fences? It’s been eleven years since Training Day.

- Your Sister’s Sister (Lynn Shelton) [3] {DVD}

Don’t think I’ll get the wife to watch this with me, since Humpday practically gave her hives. Then again, she has a low tolerance for posturing-male jackassery, even if it’s being held up to scorn.

- Wreck-It Ralph (Rich Moore) [seeing this for the offspring] {wide release}

Although you gotta admit that John C. Reilly seems to be perfectly cast, especially if he plays Ralph as Principal Fitzgerald with huge biceps.

November 9-15:

- Holy Motors (Leos Carax) [1] {limited release/scheduled at Drexel}

Welcome back, Leos. We’ve missed you.

- Skyfall (Sam Mendes) [3] {wide release}

All right, this may not have much bearing my ballot, but Daniel Craig makes an awesome Bond so lay off OK?

November 16-20:

- The Loneliest Planet (Julia Loktev) [1] {limited release/scheduled at GFC}

Supposedly this is even better than Day Night Day Night. Works for me.

- Lincoln (Steven Spielberg) [3] {wide release}

“Mr. President, the Civil War is draining the Treasury!”

“DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINAAAAAGE!!!!”

- Rust and Bone (Jacques Audiard) [3] {limited release – no Columbus release date announced}

Marion Cotillard – rowr. Sony Pictures Classics – GAH.

- The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn, Part 2 (Bill Condon) [seeing this for the special lady] {wide release}

In her defense, she enjoys vampire stories so she’s read all the books, plus she loved Seven Psychopaths so don’t let’s hold this against her.

November 21-29 (includes Thanksgiving weekend):

- The Silver Linings Playbook (David O. Russell) [2] {wide release}

I love Three Kings and all, but Russell’s always felt most at home making nervy, hyper-verbal comedies, so this should be fun. But can he actually persuade DeNiro and Chris Tucker (!!!) to put forth an effort? Stay tuned!

- Life of Pi (Ang Lee) [3] {wide release}

Could go either way, honestly.

- Rise of the Guardians (Peter Ramsey) [seeing it for the offspring] {wide release}

The offspring has complained that the title makes it sound like a ripoff of Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, which is one of his favorites. But I don’t think that’s a deal breaker or anything.

November 30-December 6:

- Alps (Yorgos Lanthimos) [2] {DVD}

Reviews haven’t been great, but Lanthimos!

- Beasts of the Southern Wild (Benh Zeitlin) [3] {DVD}

Honestly, this is the one I probably feel least strongly about. For every rave I read, I come across another review that makes this sound really over-hyped. Still, it feels like the kind of movie I should probably have an opinion on, I’d say.

- Killing Them Softly (Andrew Dominik) [3] {wide release}

I’m just hoping it’s a lousy trailer that doesn’t do the movie justice, because… well, it’s a lousy trailer.

December 7-13:

Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

December 14-20:

- The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Peter Jackson) [2] {wide release}

People who complain about Peter Jackson’s Middle Earth movies being too long are like people who complain when baseball games go into extra innings in my opinion. You’re getting extra goodness for free, so why whine about it?

December 21-27 (includes Christmas Day releases):

- Amour (Michael Haneke) [1] {limited release – no Columbus release date announced}

Sony Pictures Classics strikes again. The White Ribbon didn’t come to town until the weekend after ballots were due. D’oh.

- Django Unchained (Quentin Tarantino) [1] {wide release}

I’m always a little nervous whenever Tarantino puts out a new movie that maybe this time he’s tried to work his magic on a genre that will be immune to it. But then, I’ve worried about this since Jackie Brown, so who knows if it’ll ever happen?

- Zero Dark Thirty (Kathryn Bigelow) [2] {wide release}

Bigelow tackles another recent American military story. Can lightning strike twice?

- Killer Joe (William Friedkin) [3] {DVD}

See above, re: McConaughey. But that still doesn’t make we want to see The Paperboy.

- Les Miserables (Tom Hooper) [3] {wide release}

Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter as the Thenardiers is sort of brilliant casting.

Post-Christmas/January:

- Cosmopolis (David Cronenberg) [2] {2 Jan on DVD}

Cronenberg’s last few have been disappointing for me, but the dude is still David effing Cronenberg. Besides, nobody can adapt tricky literary works quite like he does.

- Barbara (Christian Petzold) [3] {limited release – scheduled for 11 Jan @ GFC}

Reviews out of TIFF were enthusiastic, especially for leading lady Nina Hoss. If there’s something my ballot can always use more of, it’s great female lead performances.

Columbus release after Muriels deadline:

- Sister (Ursula Meier) [3] {limited release – scheduled for 8 Feb @ Wex}

Home is awesome, y’all.

No DVD release date announced so I won’t hold my breath:

- Almayer’s Folly (Chantal Akerman) [2]

Jeanne Dielman, baby!

- Crazy Horse (Frederick Wiseman) [3]

Then again, Wiseman’s pretty sparsely represented on DVD, so I’m not expecting this to happen or anything.

- Oki’s Movie (Hong Sang-soo) [3]

Although if I only end up seeing one Hong drunken-buffoonery-fest before I cast my ballot, I suppose I can live with that.

- Photographic Memory (Ross McElwee) [3]

Where’s the buzz on this one?

- To Rome With Love (Woody Allen) [3]

Supposedly the release date will be announced sometime in November, so that’s cool I guess.

Additionally, in the event that I don’t have access to a higher-priority title, here are some possible backups I might watch. Call them [4a]s if you’d like:

- Anna Karenina (Joe Wright) {16 Nov in theatres}

- The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (John Madden) {now on DVD}

- Compliance (Craig Zobel) {8 Jan on DVD}

- The Imposter (Bart Layton) {22 Jan on DVD}

- Keep the Lights On (Ira Sachs) {TBA on DVD}

- Last Ride (Glendyn Ivin) [4] {now on DVD}

- Lawless (John Hillcoat) [4] {27 Nov on DVD}

- Neighboring Sounds (Kleber Mendonça Filho) [4] {TBA on DVD}

- Oslo, August 31st (Joachim Trier) [4] {now on DVD/streaming}

- The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky) [4] {TBA on DVD}

- Red Hook Summer (Spike Lee) [4] {26 Dec on DVD}

- Samsara (Ron Fricke) [4] {8 Jan on DVD}

- Searching for Sugar Man (Malik Bendjelloul) [4] {TBA on DVD}

- Take This Waltz (Sarah Polley) [4] {now on DVD}

- We Have a Pope (Nanni Moretti) [4] {now on DVD/Netflix}

- Wuthering Heights (Andrea Arnold) [4] {7 Dec @ GFC}

Finally, if I have time I’d like to watch the following again:

- Bernie (Richard Linklater) {now on DVD}

My frontrunner for best ensemble performance right now. OK, so Shirley MacLaine’s nothing to write home about, but some of those interview subjects are priceless.

- The Deep Blue Sea (Terence Davies) {now on DVD}

Wish I could have seen this one in theatres, but I was busy moving.

- The Dark Knight Rises (Christopher Nolan) {4 Dec on DVD}

Nolan’s films tend to reward multiple viewings, so maybe this will reveal something once the initial disappointment has worn away.

- It’s Such a Beautiful Day (Don Hertzfeldt) {now on DVD}

So stoked that this is Muriel-eligible this year. Go Hertzfeldt go! Seriously guys, you should see this.

- The Master (Paul Thomas Anderson) {now in theatres}

Particularly if it hits DVD before the deadline. If not oh well.

- Moonrise Kingdom (Wes Anderson) {now on DVD}

As prickly in its way as LIFE AQUATIC, this is one that should improve on second viewing.

- The Turin Horse (Bela Tarr) {now on DVD/streaming}

It’s not that I think I missed something. I just want to drink in the good parts again.

On “Wimpy” Role Models

Lately, my kid has been reading the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books. Because I was curious about the pop culture he consumes, I looked at them myself, and I wasn’t impressed. Setting aside the writing style, which is pitched squarely to kids, there’s just not a whole lot to these things.

What’s more, I worry that these books may be sending a negative message to him about how to live his life. Basically, the book’s “hero,” Greg Heffley, is a kid who disrespects his parents, treats his friends like crap, and more or less sees people in terms of how they can benefit or amuse him. Of course, Greg doesn’t have a whole lot of friends and gets in trouble, but he only sees his problems through the prism of his own experience- in other words, thinking that others treat him unfairly rather than seeing the way others treat him as the consequences of his behavior.

Now, I don’t want to discount the tradition of the self-centered jerk as a comic antihero. I mean, I’m a longtime fan of W.C. Fields, who did as much as anyone to advance and perfect the type. But Fields didn’t intend to make his characters heroic or worthy of emulation, and when bad things happened to him onscreen the movies usually acknowledged that, yeah, he probably deserved it.

By contrast, Wimpy author Jeff Kinney clearly wants the reader to think that Greg’s antics are not just hilarious but cute. For example, when Greg decides to give a friend of his the silent treatment for several days, he doesn’t just do it for his own amusement but also involves others in the class until the other kid has finally had enough. Middle or school or not, that’s an asshole thing to do, especially when the kid you’re doing it to is supposedly a friend. Making matters worse is that Greg never really gets called out on it, and there are never any real consequences for his actions.

Normally, I wouldn’t bother saying anything about a book like this. After all, most pop culture aimed at kids (and adults, for that matter) is pretty junky and full of suspect messages. But after talking with the offspring about the books, it was apparent that he saw Greg as a kind of role model, striking back against clueless parents, mean fellow students, and other people who would keep him from doing what he wants.

Not to sound like an old fogey or one of those alarmist “parenting experts” who mostly talks about how different things are from what they were young, but is it too much to hope for that my son have a role model that’s actually, you know, positive? Someone who can make him want to be his best, instead of making him think that being egotistical is funny and cool?

If I had a pop culture role model as a kid, it was Indiana Jones. To me, Indy was better than other action heroes because he wasn’t just a globe-trotting adventurer who wielded a whip. No, I really liked Indy because he was smart, and the reason he got to do the things he did was because people respected him and wanted his help, which was largely because he was so intelligent and educated.

Or look at Harry Potter. In many ways, Potter is a fairly regular teenager, albeit one burdened by prophecies and circumstances set in motion long before he even knew what was happening. But while Harry isn’t the best student or the most powerful wizard at Hogwarts, he nonetheless has a strong sense of morality and a hunger to do what is right and just, even if it means running afoul of the establishment. Consider the way he spearheads Dumbledore’s Army in Order of the Phoenix when Dolores Umbridge takes over Hogwarts. When he breaks the rules, it’s not because he disrespects authority, but because the authorities have become corrupted.

Compared to these, Wimpy Kid is pretty feeble. Greg’s major ambition in life is to spend all his time playing video games and avoiding unnecessary contact with others. As a role model, Greg is pretty terrible, but he’s also attractive to a lot of kids because, compared to Indy and Harry, his ambitions require almost no effort, especially if, like Greg, your mother is an abject, mouth-breathing idiot (let it not be said that Kinney doesn’t flatter his audience). It’s easy to aspire to be Greg since there’s really nothing to aspire to, and you especially don’t have to change or improve anything about yourself to get there, since if it’s never your fault, why should you have to change?

Granted, I don’t expect my son to read Wimpy Kid books forever. But as he gets older, he’s going to start having to make ever more difficult choices, mostly because the difference between what is right and what is fun and/or easy will become much more pronounced. And with the non-values of unworthy role models like Greg firmly instilled in him, I fear that his ability to choose wisely will be underdeveloped, and that the consequences of these choices and that lessons he’ll have to learn will be particularly hard on him. And if he’s anything like Greg, he’ll wonder what he did to deserve it.

As a parent, it’s my duty to prevent this from happening, and to make sure he’s equipped not just to make responsible choices but also to truly learn from his mistakes. As such, I feel like I should function for my son as a kind of gate-keeper to popular culture by steering him toward books (and movies and television) that will keep him entertained without the unpleasant worldview and dubious messages of stuff like Wimpy Kid. To that end, I’m not going to take away his Wimpy Kid books- because nothing whets a kid’s appetite for a book more than being told it’s objectionable-, but I’m also not going to encourage him to read it either. I mean, yeah, it’s good to see him reading and all. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask that the books he read broaden his mind at least a little bit, do you?

"So... what did you think?" or: how I put entirely too much thought into my movie ratings system

Why do we grade movies?  Some would argue (and have!) that critics should forego ratings entirely, because any good review will convey to the reader why and how much the reviewer liked the movie.  Yet somehow it’s become expected that if we’re going to tell others our thoughts on a movie, we should provide a score for them as well, if only as a quick reference for those who are paying attention.  This seems especially important for bite-sized assessments posted on social media sites.  After all, social media sites like Twitter tend to have a character limit, and since it’s not like one can cram a lot of detail into 140 characters, some kind of grade can succinctly sum up what a review would otherwise convey.

But which grading scale to use?  As a sometimes blogger and would-be critic, that’s a question I’ve struggled with for years.  In my early years, I employed letter grades, until it hit me that letter grades tend to carry different weight with different readers.  For example, those junior achiever types like I was in my school days tend to look down on anything less than an A, so when one rates a movie a B, that somehow seems subpar even if it’s a perfectly serviceable entertainment.

After that, I moved on to the four-star scale, which seems to be the most popular right now.  However, the problem with this scale, aside from its ubiquity, is that there isn’t really a consensus for what the different star ratings actually mean.  Back when he was still co-hosting At the Movies, Roger Ebert stated that anything receiving three stars or more would constitute a “thumbs up,” which denoted a positive review.  By contrast, the four-star scale used by The Chicago Reader is closer to the following:

0 stars – Worthless

1 star – Has redeeming facet

2 stars – Recommended

3 stars – A must see

4 stars – Masterpiece

Because of how ill-defined my four-star system was, back in 2007 I decided to switch to a Sicinski-esque 10-point scale.  At the time, this suited my needs best, since it required little explanation.  If you rate a movie “on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the best,” people will have a pretty solid idea of how you feel.  It’s simple math, really- if 10 is the best a movie can be, and 1 (or zero in my case) is the worst, then logically speaking a rating a 5 would mean average, and therefore a 6 or higher would be above average, and 4 or lower below.  So you can see how I found that pretty useful.

But the other day, I looked at my lists of the movies I’ve seen and graded between 2007 and 2011, and it hit me that maybe the 10-point scale isn’t right for me after all.  It’s not that it’s not an accurate scale, but something about it just feels… wrong.  Look at the chart below:

Notice something a little off?  If 5 is supposed to be the “average” or “mediocre” rating, then my ratings distribution feels a little asymmetrical.  My movie intake has curtailed since 2007, but the constant is that 6 ratings- given to movies about which I’m positive but hardly passionate- outnumber the rest.  And as you can see, the other ratings tend to follow a pretty similar pattern as well, bottoming out with both 10s and everything 3 and below.

Of course, if I actually saw every movie out there the chart would look rather different.  I dare say that the distribution would shift to the left, perhaps even left of “average” rating of 5.  But the truth is that I’m like most paying moviegoers in that I tend to stick to movies that I think I or my family will enjoy.  Granted, there are some real stinkers out there, and when they’re pitched loudly enough to kids, chances are I won’t be able to avoid them.  But now that my kid is old enough that he doesn’t feel like he has to see every new animated family movie out there, this is less of a problem than it used to be.

Another problem with the 10-point scale is that it devotes as many points to bad movies as good ones.  Unless you see a lot of bad movies- which thankfully I don’t anymore- it’s pretty hard to tell the difference between movies that deserve a 1, a 2, or a 3.  If something’s really offensively awful, it deserves one of these, but considering how pissed off I am after I watch a really terrible movie, the last thing on my mind is trying to pinpoint just how bad it really is.

This is my big problem with the Ebert scale.  Ebert has traditionally ranked movies out of four stars, including half-star ratings, which makes a total of nine possible ratings.  Of these, six of them are negative.  Now, there’s obviously going to be a difference between a 0-star rating (given to the worst of the worst) and a 2 ½-star rating (given to movies that aren’t quite good enough to recommend).  But why would one need six different ratings in which to categorize movies that (a) aren’t good, and that (b) one wouldn’t recommend to others?  Seems excessive to me, having to come up with a bunch of different ways to tell people a movie sucks.

Meanwhile, that leaves only three positive ratings, which basically boil down into (a) good, (b) very good, and (c) great.  Sorry, but that isn’t enough for me.  If I’m praising a movie, I want people to know whether I think it’s a flat-out masterpiece or something that’s just really enjoyable, which to my eyes is a fairly substantial difference.

So what is my alternative?  In the last week or so I’ve been toying with the idea of a modified Reader-style system, which would incorporate half-star ratings but would otherwise have similar emotional responses applied to the ratings.  Here’s what I’m looking at right now:

0 stars – Simultaneously terrible and offensive.  I’m angry at myself for seeing this. (0 to 2 on the current scale)

½ star – Terrible, but not offensively so.  Mostly just a waste of time. (3)

1 star – Not recommended.  See if you must, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. (4)

1 ½ stars – Not quite recommended, but has some redeeming facet that could make it worth seeing. (5)

2 stars – Pretty good, not bad, I can’t complain. (6)

2 ½ stars – Well worth your time. (7)

3 stars – A must-see.  A contender for my yearly top-10 list. (8)

3 ½ stars – A near masterpiece.  One of the best films of the year. (9)

4 stars – A masterpiece.  See it, like, now.  Very rare. (10)

I went back and forth about including the half-star rating, largely because I wasn’t sure I needed another negative rating in there.  However, I decided to include it since I thought it was necessary to distinguish between your garden-variety bad movies and the true crimes against cinema.

So if I switch my 2007-2011 ratings over to the new scale, this is what the distribution looks like.

Looks better to me.  What do you think?

White Elephant 2012: The Victims

Today’s the big day!  Let’s see what our April Fools have been up to lately:

Simon Abrams caught The Breaks!

Jason Alley shared the Intimate Confessions of a ChineseCourtesan!

Jim Bach engaged in a Duel to the Death!

Kent Beeson went on a Castle Freak!

Andrew Bemis learned how To Live and Die in L.A. !

Christianne Benedict told some Forbidden Lie$!

Steve Carlson rhapsodized on a theme of Paganini!

I sat back and let the evening go with Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band!

Kenji Fujishima stalked some Deadly Prey!

Jaime Grijalba gave a much-needed jump to The Prowler!  In Spanish!

Stacia Kissick Jones found It!
 

Peter Labuza got familiar with Dev. D!

Matt Lynch dove into the notorious sausage-fest Freddy Got Fingered!

Joe Neff came clean with Dirty Love!

Seema did it for her country with Grease 2!

Caroline Shapiro witnessed The Return of Count Yorga!

Philip Tatler dropped in on S. Darko!

Patrick Williamson found the ugliness in Poor Pretty Eddie!

I plan on adding more throughout the day, so check back later, will you?  You just never know what kind of goodies we’ll share with you!

White Elephant 2012: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1978)

Nowadays, Hollywood isn’t known for its ambition.  One look at the box-office charts and it’s easy to see why- of the ten highest-grossing movies of 2011, only one wasn’t a sequel, and that exception (Thor), was made with the intention of setting up an imminent Avengers movie.  Faced with these dire circumstances, it’s easy to wax nostalgic about the 1970s, in which bold emerging talents created wildly original films in a climate characterized by creative freedom.  And by “creative freedom,” I mean drugs.

As evidenced by accounts of Seventies Hollywood such as Easy Riders, Raging Bulls and The Kid Stays In the Picture, as Tinseltown’s young Turks made their journey through cinema, drugs regularly rode shotgun.  At a time when seemingly half of Hollywood was crashing on Jennifer Salt’s couch while the other half was sleeping with Warren Beatty, drugs were pretty much everywhere.  Many of the decade’s key figures such as Martin Scorsese, Hal Ashby, and Sam Peckinpah made era-defining films while under the influence of intoxicating substances of various stripes.  If you never heard about “drug problems” back then, it was because everyone had drugs or could get them, so what was the problem?

However, by the time 1978 rolled around, drugs were getting sick of being the silent partner in Hollywood’s resurgence.  So drugs decided to make their own movie, throwing a bunch of Beatles songs into a flimsy frame story and calling it Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.  And this being the 1970s, drugs got ambitious- they didn’t just cast movie stars, no sirree.  They also cast loads of rock stars, because if anyone will jump at the chance to work for drugs, it’s rock stars.  Of course, drugs ran into trouble when it came to those killjoys at the Director’s Guild, who balked at the idea of an assortment of chemicals, pharmaceuticals and plant derivatives taking work from flesh-and-blood filmmakers.  But while Michael Schultz took the credit (or the blame, as the case may be) for bringing Sgt. Pepper to the big screen, this is still essentially a film by drugs.

But while drugs played a part in some of the most important and popular works of the day, in each case there was inevitably a sure creative hand on the wheel, keeping things moving in a productive direction, usually with a strong vision in mind.  To cite the obvious example, the album with which this movie shared its title was recorded while the Fab Four were deep into their drug phase.  Yet because the Beatles- both individually and collectively- were genius-level musicians, the result was brilliant, sometimes in ways that were only enhanced by the drugs.  However, drugs alone can’t substitute for talent, and if there’s no vision behind a project, things get dire pretty quickly.

Ever listened to someone who’s stoned out of their mind try to tell a story or talk about something in any depth?  That’s basically what the Sgt. Pepper movie feels like.  The governing principle behind this movie seems to be having the entire cast and crew show up on the set and inhale crazy amounts of blow and pot, then decide what the hell they were going to do that day.  How else to explain musical numbers like the one in which Steve Martin (in his first movie) mug-sings “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” surrounded by dancers dressed up as Boy Scouts, then dance-fights with Peter Frampton and the Bee Gees?  And why did anybody think it was a good idea to take Paul McCartney’s melancholy ballad “She’s Leaving Home” and have it sung partly by leather-clad fembots?  Because drugs, that’s why.

And I guess it should go without saying that with so much chemical inspiration on the set, coherence isn’t Sgt. Pepper strong suit.  But really, this movie’s story, such as it is, makes no sense even one a scene-to-scene basis.  For instance, when the band first arrives in California, they have a drug-fueled (duh) dinner party at the home of record mogul Donald Pleasance.  The scene is shot to emphasize its sinister implications, with freaky camera angles and leering close-ups of Pleasance as he watches the boys sign with his label.  Clearly we’re supposed to think the boys are signing away their lives/innocence/firstborn children, right?  But no, everything goes pretty great for them from that point forward.  Then there’s the scene in which the band’s manager plots with his sexy singer girlfriend to steal all the band’s money- as they sing “You Never Give Me Your Money,” naturally- only to have their crooked dealings forgotten one scene later.

I suppose glaring plot holes like these make Sgt. Pepper amusing and watchable in an terrible sort of way, but that doesn’t mean it’s any good.  It doesn’t help that standing in for the Beatles- who actually possessed real screen presence and acting chops, it should be noted- was a quartet of musicians who had no business top-lining a major studio production.  Peter Frampton fares worst of the bunch as Billy Shears, a happy-go-lucky sort who enjoys wearing pink outfits and white overalls monogrammed with his name.  Frampton shows no signs of acting talent or big-screen charisma, and he’s forever being upstaged by his hair, which makes him look like he dumps peroxide on his head regularly.  With no clue how to behave onscreen, he mostly just mugs for the camera, giving the impression that he was called to the set just after snorting his lunch off the craft services coffee table, except in his darker moments when he sulks around like a spoiled teenager who’s just been grounded.

Despite being the reformed Lonely Hearts Club Band’s lead singer, Frampton invariably gets shown up by The Bee Gees, who play his band mates the Henderson brothers.  Granted, the brothers Gibb can’t act either- the sole trick in their acting arsenal is to smile widely and strike album cover poses- but at least they know what to do with a song, and their ability to conjure up impeccable three-part harmony is pretty impressive. 

Most of the Bee Gees’ bad laughs come courtesy of Barry Gibb’s wardrobe.  This being the seventies, exposed chests were considered the apex of male sexuality, and Barry takes full advantage of this.  As my lovely wife put it, “I don’t think Barry’s shirts button above the navel,” but that’s not entirely accurate.  At a funeral scene near the end, as the boys bear a casket to the tune of “Carry That Weight”– which, come to think, is still subtler than the soldiers in Across the Universe carrying the Statue of Liberty while singing “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”– Barry’s mourning blouse buttons up to his sternum, which under the circumstances should be interpreted as a respectful gesture to the deceased.  But even during Barry’s more modest moments, a young George Michael was clearly taking notes.

The good news is that, even amidst the drugs and the lousy acting and the unfortunate fashions, there’s always the music to enjoy.  And even though the late-seventies setting necessitated a disco-funk production style (courtesy of former Beatles producer George Martin, no less!) some of the musical performances hold their own.  Earth, Wind and Fire does a Philly soul version of “Got to Get You Into My Life” that’s pretty good, if slightly marred by their futuristic tribal wear and some of the singers’ tendencies to pull the “Africa face,” to quote Get Him to the Greek.  And even when onetime Beatles collaborator Billy Preston shows up at the climax of the film to save the day by flying around and shooting lightning bolts from his fingers and turn the villains and random passerby into clergymen (again, because drugs), he still manages to work in an energetic and decidedly funky take on “Get Back.”

Best of all is Aerosmith, who drop into the story near the end to deliver their justly famous rip-roarin’ take on “Come Together.”  Now that Steven Tyler has reinvented himself as everyone’s favorite crazy uncle on American Idol, it’s nice to see him doing something he’s actually good at, sneering and belting and sexing up the song.  Rocking out, in other words. 
 

But as good as Aerosmith’s number is, it’s also indicative of the biggest (non-drug) problem with the Sgt. Pepper- for a movie that’s allegedly about rock’n’roll, there’s a decidedly anti-rock bias.  What made the Beatles so great an influential is that they took rock’n’roll and infused it with real artfulness, but in a way that didn’t make the music any less rockin’.  By contrast, this movie seems designed to placate all the bluehairs in the audiences who still hated rock music, portraying the titular band as a quartet of old-school tunesmiths and the real rockers (played by such luminaries as Aerosmith and an eerily Frank Zappa-esque Alice Cooper) as the villains. 

Consequently, Sgt. Pepper feels like something of an orphan movie.  Anyone who hated rock would have next to no interest in a Sgt. Pepper movie.  Meanwhile, those people who appreciated the Beatles and what they did for popular culture would find the movie’s take on the material both square and fairly disrespectful.  More than anything, it reminds me of the classic Mr. Show sketch “Rap: The Musical,” in which rap-phobic theatergoers were treated to a Cohan-style singin’-and-hoofin’ revue featuring hip-hop lyrics and subject matter.

Because the parties responsible for Sgt. Pepper were all about finding new ways to water down their inspiration, the movie builds to a massive singalong reprise of the title tune that doubles as an homage to the classic album cover.  Among the ringers producer Robert Stigwood enlisted for this scene were Tina Turner, Donovan, Sha-na-na, Keith Carradine, Wolfman Jack, and Carol Channing.  Some of the folks who turned Stigwood down were Elton John, Rock Hudson, and Barry Manilow, which forces us to contemplate a project that was too ridiculous for the guy who gave the world “Copacabana.”

Also hiding out in the crowd were Paul and Linda McCartney, as well as George Harrison, who one year later would form his own production company, Handmade Films.  History tells us that Harrison started up Handmade to bankroll Monty Python’s Life of Brian, but I like to think the idea began on the set of Sgt. Pepper when he looked around and thought, “hell, even I could do better than this.”

In which I put off writing something of substance to talk nonsense about Cars

So I’ve recently been thinking of why the Cars movies feel so “off” to me in relation to other Pixar movies. It’s not just that they’re easily the lamest movies Pixar has made. It’s more that every other Pixar production takes place alongside the human world, either because the characters are human themselves or because they’re small enough or have limited enough interactions with humans that they can have their own stories that are somewhat independent of ours. However, Cars 1 & 2 don’t work that way, since logistically speaking, a lot of the stuff they do (auto races, for example) would never escape our notice.

So what’s the deal? One possibility is that the cars are actually Matchbox/Hot Wheels toys being manipulated by people, which would explain (a) why the cars aren’t cognizant of the humans’ presence, and (b) why the cars’ world feels like a sanitized kiddie version of our own. And hell, imagine how well that sets up a “gotcha” twist at the end of the inevitable CARS 3.

But I’m more intrigued by the idea that the Cars saga actually takes place in a distant future, long after some Terminator-esque takeover by the machines. With no more people- or animals, it seems- in the world, the cars would have the world to themselves. But since their entire history has been spent as slaves to humans, they have very little of their own culture on which to build. Therefore, they have to fall back on human institutions to create their own world, since it’s all they know. They build human-like towns, find human-like forms of entertainment, live and work and dress themselves in ways reminiscent of the way it was back when humans ran the show. Hell, they even set up human-like systems of government and business. In a way, it’s kind of like Lars Von Trier’s Manderlay. Sure, the cars are living in the past and have re-created a system designed to keep them subservient, but it’s the evil they know. And after generations of living this way, no one- not even Doc Hudson, who's the closest the Cars universe has to a Danny Glover figure- knows any better.

Of course, this theory doesn’t explain how the cars are able to talk by manipulating their bumpers- or for that matter, how the insects are tiny cars themselves. But still, thinking about these movies like this lends them a little bit more of an edge, even if it doesn’t necessarily make them better.