I wanted to like this movie, but I found myself shouting at the screen so many times that, by the time the story wrapped up, I wasn't rooting for anyone. A dark take on the whole "bad seed" theme, Tilda Swinton plays the frustrated mother to a child with so many problems, it's hard to know where to start. And, while most of his aggression is aimed directly at her, I find it hard to believe that NO ONE else in his life (teachers, neighbors, grandparents, the other people in town, the police) noticed his disturbing behavior as a child. His father is clueless, always siding with the child even as he's defiant in front of the parents. "He's a boy...that's what boys do." Um, no. This kid clearly has psychological issues--anyone can see that.
But the filmmakers choose to ignore that and blame nearly everything on the mother. She tries and tries to connect with her son, and he's nothing but snide and manipulative, to the point where the movie drifts from being a twisted family tale into straight-up horror movie land. Whenever she notices him doing something wrong, he always looks up and her and smiles. ALWAYS, even when she's in the kitchen and he's outside and can't possibly know where she is or what she's thinking. It grows laughable near the end when she realizes what he's doing and looks up and he's staring at her and smiling in the creepiest way. You're reminded it's a movie and not real life, taking you out of the drama. It's all over the top guilt aimed squarely at the one person who's actually trying to fix the problem.
By the way, as a parent and member of the community, I find it hard to believe this kid's behavior would be tolerated. It starts at the beginning and just gets worse--but the mother doesn't seem to realize that her child is different. I can't believe she doesn't talk to other parents to get a sense of what kinds of behaviors are normal rebellion and which ones are clearly sociopathic. And after the "incident," I would have moved away. The only reason she would choose to stay in the same town is for the punishment, blaming herself for what happened. She's found her own personal hell, and she thinks what Kevin did was her fault--and she should pay the price. I found it unbelievable, though. All kids are special and different, but a kid like that needs professional help, not a new bow and arrow. Thanks Dad!
The filmmaker chose to skip around in time, showing events and then what led up to those events. It's an interesting choice but takes away most of the tension because the viewer knows what's coming. There is only one "surprise" moment in the film--but it is seriously creepy and comes out of left field to answer several questions. In the end, they don't "talk about Kevin," and that's the primary issue. Maybe if they had, things would have turned out differently. I liked that the filmmaker chose to show less violence than she could have, but I wonder why--the entire film sets up how evil this child is, but then, in the end, the filmmaker protects us from seeing the result of that evil. Again, it feels like an attempt to excuse or cover up his behavior. The film ends up just being a frustrating exercise in bad parenting, bad judgement, and blaming your kids for ruining the fun, tomato-themed life you had before they came along.
The meanest thing I could say about this movie is ‘Has extreme Don’t Worry Darling energy’.
I have never seen a movie more desperate to justify itself. It’s trapped in this endless neurosis over what it is- a blockbuster Barbie movie in 2023 by an acclaimed art house director that is fun but also deep but also earnest but also self aware but also but also but also. Every point it raises it brings up a counterpoint to before the audience can, every frame is trying to prove it’s not just product but art. It’s never just Barbie. It’s never confident or even comfortable in its skin. You cannot for a second be immersed in Barbie because it’s not a story so much as a visual dissertation without a central thesis, it’s a student film riffing on the big dogs hoping it’s underdog audacity will carry it but given a budget in the millions. It so desperately wants you to like it, to know it’s in on the joke too.
Everythng is an ouroboros here: an endless loop of argument and counterarguement feeding itself. Isn’t it shitty how the Mattel boardroom is full of men? Ah, but isn’t it cool how Mattel’s acknowledged it with this niche? And it’ll mythologize Barbie’s creator but uh don’t worry she did tax evasion we know that, now let her impart into Barbie the experience of all women. Barbie helps women, Barbie hurts women, Barbie is told to be everything so isn’t she just like women, but it is better to be a creator than the idea, and in the end, hasn’t Barbie helped all these women? Oh uh why is this blonde white Barbie the centerpiece of it all and helping not only her diverse Barbie friends but a Hispanic woman and her daughter? Don’t worry we’ll have the daughter call her a white savior! But don’t worry we’ll have the mom say she’s not! It’s fascinating to watch, honestly. It’s a film that wants to prove to you so so bad that it works but it doesn’t and it knows it doesn’t and it knows you knows. It’s Gerta Gerwig wrestling with taking this job for an hour and a half.
The cast is more than game and able. Margot Robbie is doing her damndest to find the heart and soul in this role, and there’s one scene with an old lady near the end of the first act/beginning of the second that actually works, for just a moment, more than any of the big third act soliloquies or montages with emotional ballads. And as someone who’s seen Blade Runner 2049 and Drive, this is the best Ryan Gosling performance I’ve seen. The man commits and delivers a surprisingly compelling and entertaining antagonist. The movie can’t quite reconcile what he’s done with his ending, or tie it into the themes- is Ken letting go of Barbie and the need to define himself for or against her symbolizing the need for men to do the same, and if so, why play it so lightly and sympathetically?- but that’s not his fault. And the supporting cast are entertaining, but you just can’t have big laughs with a movie that feels like it’s constantly checking in the corner of its eye after every joke to see if you’re laughing, grin stuck in place. It’s not as funny or as smart as it wants to be, and the sad thing is, it feels like it knows that too.
There is some great set design, cinematography, dazzling choreography, popping colors, and some fun high points. But I can’t imagine many kids liking it. And we’ve seen how conservatives have taken this movie. And anyone’s who’s progressed beyond the politics of. Well. A feminist blockbuster Barbie movie will find it cloying or condescending or just incredibly basic. It’s aimed at a very specific crowd who will buy what it’s saying, the liberals who see corporate feminism as progress, who agree that it’s just about a little change sometimes, who are ready for something just a little more complex than a SNL sketch. I don’t regret seeing it, because I was deeply engaged the whole time seeing it struggle at war with itself, in pain for its whole existence. It’s not a boring movie by any means. It wants to say everything before the audience can say it first. It’s the endpoint of The Lego Movie and Enchanted- the corporations interrogating and justifying themselves, and the cracks in this formula are too large to ignore. It wants to be so much, and the attempt is as darkly mesmerizing as a fly thinking it can somehow and someway metamorphize into a butterfly and suffocating and struggling in its makeshift cocoon, but this is one Barbie that fundamentally just cannot break out of its box.
Talking about the role of cinema is such a monumental task that it's almost pointless—cinema means something different to everyone at different times and in different places. To me, one of the vital roles of cinema is to celebrate the mundane, the everyday, and to transform it into something vital. We want to see ourselves reflected on the screen; our better or worse selves, something to reject or something to aspire to. Paterson does this beautifully: it's an ode to the normal and the extraordinary that resides within it, to the idea that each of us should always strive to fulfil something greater and deeper.
Paterson is a former Marine who now drives a bus in the city of Paterson, New Jersey. His favourite poet is William Carlos Williams who was inspired by the streets Paterson drives every day and the falls he takes his lunch at. He is married to Laura and every evening he takes her dog Marvin for a walk and has a drink at his favourite bar. This is Paterson's life, such as it is, and we are witness to a week of it. Jim Jarmusch focuses on the minute details of Paterson's life: a conversation in a laundromat, the engine of a bus breaking down, the patter you have with a colleague in the minutes before you're due to officially start work. Throughout, Adam Driver imbues Paterson with a quiet warmth and complexity that finds its outlet in his own poetry; we see the events in Paterson's life reverberate in his writing and vice versa. It's a towering performance from Driver, delicate and restrained and always a marvel. The performances of those around him, particularly Golshifteh Farahani as Laura, complement him perfectly. The people he meets and the conversations he has feel very low-key and natural—we're never taken out of Paterson, or away from him. The film builds up to an event that changes things profoundly for him; something that seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of things but is a deeply personal loss. This is the closest thing the film has to a moment of great drama, and it's satisfying that it leads to what feels, genuinely, like a moment of personal growth. A little progress, something we all crave, and something that feels immensely relatable.
It helps that it's a very beautifully made film. Jarmusch and Frederick Elmes do a wonderful job of creating a sense of Paterson's regimented life and showing off his environment. The writing is excellent throughout, from the dialogue and the silences that fill the spaces in between to the poetry that springs from Paterson and those around him. I found the film to be a near-perfect thing—gentle, meandering, beautiful in a way that is both surprising and of great comfort.
I usually don't have any problems with the sports movie formula. Quite the contrary, it actually almost always provides a certain qualitative floor that guarantees I can enjoy the film. However, I really haven't seen a flick as formulaic as "Gran Turismo" in a long time. And even that wouldn't be the biggest problem if at least a few of the elements hit the spot. But nothing really convinced me here.
The script, which contains every cliché imaginable, is undoubtedly the film's weakest link. Whether it's the grumpy mentor, the one-dimensional rival, the unnecessary love interest, or the disapproving father, everything is totally predictable. The actors aren't even the problem, for the most part—except for Orlando Bloom, who really is abysmally bad here. Furthermore, you have to look for humor in "Gran Turismo" with a magnifying glass. The film takes itself far too seriously, while the characters are all uninteresting. And the whole "gamer" versus "real" driver nonsense seems completely out of date.
Only the racing sequences could have saved the film for me, but they also failed to click. Although they are nicely shot in places, they are also regularly intercut with some kind of effect. There is never any suspense, and for a film that advertises so aggressively that it is based on a "true story," the individual race situations seem incredibly contrived. Even in a boring Formula 1 season like this year, I've seen much more suspense than in this film. In the end, this movie is nothing more than a PlayStation and Nissan commercial. If you want to see some cool Le Mans action, watch "Ford v Ferrari" instead.
