I only giving it 8 stars because I acutely feel the same as Cyrano, and his story resonated with me too accurately: here I am 33 years old, and I have a crush, but my looks are bad, and I know he doesn't like me back - so I'm loving him from afar, and my pride is keeping me to tell him my feelings. I don't think this will change - it keeps me safe and hurting at the same time.
Anyway, I've waited for this movie for a long, long time ever since I saw the trailer. This was my most hyped movie of the year, and while I loved it, I saw its faults: the emotions weren't as deeply portrayed as they should have been, they were mostly superficial (especially with Christian); the pacing felt too fast at times, and I really missed those romantic lines Roxanne and Cyrano exchanged in their letters. But apart from this, I think this was a good romantic musical, the music was superb (you can not go wrong with the Nationals), the actors great, the story in itself was just awesome. I especially liked the way Cyrano spoke, his rhythm, it was a good point.
I know there's a movie with Gérard Depardieu who played Cyrano in the french version, and I know a lot of people adore that version, but I think this was good too - probably mainly for the younger generation, this can act as a gate between the original story and modern era.
So all in all I liked Cyrano, I loved Peter Dinklage and everybody else (Ben Mendelsohn was just awesome!), and I loved the story, the dancing, the clothes, the style, everything. The ending was especially rewarding and satisfying, it suited the whole movie, and it was somewhat realistic - and for that alone this movie deserves a high praise.
this is a nice romantic movie and quite a radical one if you think about it…
1) an illegal abortion, and help to do so without question of if Penny was making the right decision/who/why. Controversial now but even more so at the time
2) when Baby finds out Penny was with Johnny previously, she doesn’t question this or get jealous. she trusts their friendship. Unlike most tropes, there’s no rivalry between the two, she is able to take Penny's criticism and grow, and Penny was able to lean on Baby.
3) Baby likes Johnny and the movie does not criticize this. She is the first to make moves towards him. After they sleep together, she gains more confidence in herself and he respects her as a woman asking what her real name is.
4) When Johnny compliments Baby he talks about her traits, rather than her physical beauty. They both think another is better than the other person seeing traits in each other that the other didn't see, ultimately bringing out their own strengths.
The love story between Baby and Johnny has equal growth between their characters as they help each other. And at the end it's not a "love above everything else for no reason happy ending" story...before the final dance scene, they said goodbye as tho they learned what they did from another when the characters had to part ways with the end of the trip/Johnny being fired.
5) Healthy masculine character traits. Aside from what’s mentioned above, Johnny was there for Penny platonically with no romantic agenda and had respect for both Penny and Baby. The movie showcases Johnny coming into his own. It also shows men crying, when Johnny is sharing with Baby he is seen as less than from the staff and guests, Being nothing but the entertainment both on the dance floor and in the bedroom and taken advantage of. Another scene of Babys father crying when Babys confronts him (and ultimately him admitting he was wrong at the end shaking hands with Johnny).
6) Baby gains confidence through dancing and liking another man other than her father. She also moves from sympathy to empathy when she realizes money class differences and steps up to take Penny's place in the dance number and learn the steps. She stands up for the truth that Jonny didn't steal, which her character wouldn't have done at the beginning of the movie.
Ultimately a coming-of-age story with transformation of Baby’s character, with other background themes
I feel like if they took this film more seriously, I'd enjoy it a lot more. My main issue is what their comedy bits caused in the storyline. Right out of the gate, you see her depression show up. Then, her friends and mother show up and start treating her like shit right out of the gate.
It had been THREE weeks since her husband just died. Yet they criticize her for a great bit of comedy, but instead it makes me really dislike all those people. Then they just take her around to try and find her a new guy in that first year of losing him. It isn't exactly crazy to go a year after becoming a widow without hooking up.
I do really like the story concept though, and think it could make for a really good drama. They should dive deeper into if this letter plan causes the happiness he intends, or makes her wounds even deeper. Does this kind of think help, or hurt her progress out of darkness?
That would be cool, but I feel like we keep it square in the romantic comedy style too much by making playful jokes (some good, many bad). I do appreciate the twist towards the end though. It could have reeeeeally sucked had they not done that.
Meh watch, not very engaging, but at least there are some interesting moments sprinkled throughout.
[5.0/10] Every now and then I think about The Artist, the near-silent film from 2011. It was a perfectly charming, creative, and entertaining film. But it made one terrible, awful mistake -- winning the Academy Award for Best Picture. Suddenly, it was no longer judged on its own merits, but measured against the likes of The Godfather and Casablanca and thought of for what it wasn’t rather than what it was.
CODA is not especially charming, or creative, or entertaining. It is a bland piece of feel-good pablum wrapped in a bundle of cliches and contrivances. But I also cannot help but wonder if I would judge it more gently if I’d say, caught it on Lifetime or the Disney Channel, where it belongs, rather than as part of a pre-Oscars watch list. Being nominated for film’s greatest prize brings with it certain standards and expectations, despite a certain amount of crud that regularly makes the cut, and this film is not up to them.
But that’s not a sin. There’s room in the cinematic diet for unchallenging, crowd-pleasing fluff meant to tug on the heartstrings at predictable intervals. We all need that sometimes. Candidly, CODA plays more like a movie meant for fourteen-year-olds to watch on rainy afternoons, but by gum, those movies fill a need too, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
What is a sin is taking the opportunity to put the deaf community and its unique experiences on screen in front of major audiences, and wasting it on such a paint-by-numbers film. The best thing CODA has going for it is the thing cinema does so well -- providing viewers the chance to see, empathize with, and better understand people whose stories and experiences are likely different from their own. The only crime here is squandering the chance to deliver something real through that lens and instead falling back on bog standard cliches and hoary old story beats.
The film tells the story of Ruby, a seventeen-year-old girl with hearing who’s part of a family of deaf people. Her father, Frank, is an eccentric but encouraging fisherman. Her mother, Jackie, doesn’t quite get her daughter or her interests, but cares, despite her willingness to make demands of her. Her brother, Leo, resents his sister a bit for how much his parents rely on her and aches to be able to prove himself on his own. Ruby herself is torn between continuing to help the family she loves but feels left out of and occasionally smothered by on the one hand, and pursuing music school which would require leaving this part of her life behind.
In telling this family’s story, CODA deploys a formula for its challenges and conflicts that could fit a myriad of other topics and communities. The parents who just don’t understand, the conflict tug-of-war between helping the family business and one child’s passion, the encouraging but demanding teacher, the stock teenage romance, the frustrated sibling, the parental turn from “over my dead body” to “We’ll drive you to the big audition/swim meet/rodeo show/robotics competition” -- it’s a bevy of tired tropes delivered competently but without any imagination.
What’s frustrating is that every once in a while, the specter of a better, deeper movie peeks through. In the film’s best scene, Jackie explains to her daughter why she prayed Ruby would be deaf, revealing insecurities about being able to connect that reflect her struggles with her own mother. In another, Frank asks his daughter to sing her solo just for him, so he can read her lips, feel the sound coming from her through, and connect with something important to her. During her big recital, the sound drops out, and the film puts viewers with hearing in the perspective of Ruby’s parents, comprehending their daughter’s big moment through other cues, taking in the reactions second hand and appreciating them in different ways.
There’s an honesty to these scenes, a rawness and beauty, that’s otherwise entirely absent from a film that relies on the shallowest of cinematic conventions at every turn. The few occasions when CODA injects this type of truth into this art only makes it all the more frustrating when it doesn’t do so for the other ninety-five percent of its runtime.
What’s especially frustrating is the way the screenplay relies on the cheapest of contrivances. Ruby is late for her private lessons with her music teacher, Mr. Villalobos, due to having to support her family’s risky new business. The chronic lateness prompts him to dismiss her for not valuing his time. But do he and Ruby ever have a conversation about the demands on her time, or the fact that the last straw happened because her mom refused to let her go due to an obligation Jackie never told her daughter about? Of course not. Instead, Mr. Villalobos simply accuses Ruby of not wanting it enough and no one asks or offers why any of this is happening.
It’s not enough that Ruby feels uncomfortable about bringing her hearing boyfriend around her family. Instead, the boyfriend has to relay a silly but embarrassing interaction with her dad to his friend, who tells the whole school and provide Ruby with a grudge she can get over when it’s narratively convenient. It’s not enough that Ruby feels pulled in two directions by her family life and her personal life. Instead, the one day she blows off work to go be with her beau just so happens to be the day when a government inspector unexpectedly shows up on the family fishing boat and calls the coast guard on them because of their condition, forcing them to deal with fines and suspensions. None of the major plot obstacles here are earned, they just happen because the narrative needs them to.
That lack of earning it affects the whole film. In the closing montage, Jackie is welcomed by the other fishermen’s wives she once called “hearing bitches” without any indication as to how. The family ultimately supports Ruby going away to school, but it’s never explained how they’re going to make it work when they need a hearing deckhand and purportedly can’t afford it. Despite the cash-strapped family, we never see that Ruby gets a scholarship, she just drives off into the sunset. Problems go away through magic in this movie.
Hell, it even weakens the climax of the movie. In her big music school audition, Ruby sings with the same hesitant voice Mr. Villalobos, a cartoon character cliche, has been encouraging her to eschew in favor of a more confident, personal one, with a dash of Dead Poet Society. She finds that voice when she sees her family having snuck into watching the audition, and signs her way through her big song, with Mr. V on the piano to boot.
Under other circumstances, I’d applaud it as a sign of how her hesitance comes from not being able to resolve her roles as the hearing daughter of deaf parents with unique demands and as her own person with goals and wants apart from her family. The confidence comes from knowing she’s supported, from finding that resolution between each of these facets of her life that remain a part of her as a greater whole, enriched by both.
But there’s very little set up for the signing as a way for her to break through to the more confident and self-assured version of herself, or that seeing the sign of her family’s support would encourage her rather than make her more nervous. I’d like to applaud it as a nicely underplayed bit of subtlety, in a movie where almost every bit of dialogue is thuddingly on the nose. Yet, given all the underwritten shortcuts the movie takes elsewhere, it’s hard not to view these developments in the same light.
CODA isn’t the first movie to take easy narrative shortcuts in the name of delivering a saccharine ending. It’s not the first movie to feature blunt dialogue and contrived plot obstacles for its protagonist. What’s striking about a film competing for such accolades is how familiar and unadventurous it is in its construction despite the uniqueness of the experience it’s depicting. There’s a stock quality to how the movie unfolds that’s borderline embarrassing given the opportunity to delve deeper and more frankly into the deaf experience.
But maybe that's unfair. If this were merely a Hallmark channel movie punching above its weight, we (read: I) might look on it more fondly. Instead, it’s an Oscar contender that I judge according to the standards of prestige pictures, despite the Academy being the “august body” that crowns borderline offensive sap like Green Book on a semi-regular basis. Context changes how we see things, and being an awards contender could hardly put this movie in a worse light.
All that said, CODA isn’t for me, and shouldn’t be seriously considered for the big prize. But it is for somebody, and there’s a place in the cinematic pantheon for trite but uplifting films that put stories of distinct communities in a pleasing, accessible package for broad audiences. There’s reason to demand more from what Hollywood declares, by acclamation, the best movie of the year, but also reason to appreciate films for what they are, apart from the circus and expectation game the awards circuit inevitably saddles pleasant enough but less-than-transcendent films with.
With Sound of Metal winning two Oscars last year and being nominated for four more, it would seem that filmmakers have recognized the potential of stories dealing with deaf individuals. Unfortunately, this film didn't quite live up to that potential for me.
The unique angle of a hearing daughter amongst an otherwise deaf family is compelling and well executed. The problem here is that the unique angle isn't used to explore an equally unique plot. The fundamental story is rife with clichés, feeling like it would be right at home as a Hallmark or Disney Channel original. A girl who wants to pursue her dream and go to college but who is held back by conflict with her family. A love interest with whom our protagonist has a rapid falling out and equally rapid reconciliation. An eccentric mentor who she also has a rapid falling out and equally rapid reconciliation with. The story beats in this film will likely feel very familiar and the fact that our protagonist is a Child of Deaf Adults isn't enough of a twist to fully mitigate that familiarity.
Now, even though the story feels like Hallmark/Disney Channel, the quality of the filmmaking certainly does not. This movie is very well made. The acting is generally great, and despite all complaints of familiarity, the movie still lands some potent emotional punches. I definitely got watery eyed when Ruby's dad verbally tells her to go. It's just unfortunate that it couldn't also tell a more unexpected story.
For those looking for other films dealing with deaf individuals, I strongly recommend The Tribe (2014). It is much more avant-garde, exploring the dark world of a Ukrainian boarding school for the deaf. There is essentially no dialogue and the Ukrainian sign language is not subtitled, making for an eerie not-quite-silent silent film.
