"Eye in the Sky"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Sometimes a movie’s story does all the work. “Zero Dark Thirty” is an example: The story of how Bin Laden got taken down, by itself, is enough to draw us in. Or even “The Big Short”—I’m pretty sure it could have been played by sock puppets and I still would have been interested (and pissed off!).

“Eye in the Sky” feels like one of these movies. It is not based on a true story (though stuff like this surely happens), but it only has like four sets and it is focused on a single incident. So it is the story, plus whatever tangled up complications it engenders, that is center stage.

That story is about a British-led (U.S. assisted) drone operation in East Africa. A couple of biggish terrorists (though not Bin Laden big) are meeting, and the British military is hoping to capture them. But things do not go quite as planned, and so the capture mission soon becomes a bomb-them-into-oblivion mission.

The problem is, right before drone pilot Steve Watts (Aaron Paul) drops the bomb, a cute little girl who did nothing to nobody, and for cuteness’ sakes was just playing with a hula-hoop, walks into the danger zone. Colonel Katherine Powell (Helen Mirren), who is in charge of the mission, and her superior, Lt. General Frank Benson (Alan Rickman), still say go for it. But Watts holds up a sec. Everyone hopes the girl will just go back home. But in the meantime every single person in the British government, it seems, waffles back and forth, calls his or her superior, and argues about whether or not they should do it anyway.

On the one hand, a terrorist attack is imminent—dozens of innocent lives are at stake. On the other hand, there’s the girl, and she is so damn cute.

All this hand wringing over what to do feels a little odd. Don’t I hear about civilian casualties from these drone strikes like every other day? Isn’t it: “12 civilians die in strike in Yemen that kills 2 terrorists”; “7 children die in Libya”; “Scores of civilians die in bombed hospital where there were no terrorists at all and they just went for it anyway”? It’s kind of hard for me to believe that the military higher ups really are stressing that much over an innocent life here or there.

But who knows, maybe I am wrong. Maybe each hula-hooper gets her own mini day in court before the Hellfire missile comes raining down. (Then I kind of want to know why so many civilians are dying!)

At any rate, “Eye in the Sky” is nothing if not tense. But unfortunately a lot of that tension comes from the excruciating indecisiveness of its characters. That’s not exactly fun to watch. When I witness two friends bicker for half an hour over where we should eat dinner, it’s tense all right, but it’s not exactly edge-of-my-seat, pins and needles material. Half of “Eye in the Sky” is various British higher ups saying, “Yes, we should do it. O.K. let’s do it,” then, “No, wait, we have a moral obligation … let’s not do it,” then, “But consider the costs!,” then, “But think of the children!,” and so on. Of course I know all of this is very important stuff, and worthy of careful consideration, but I’m not sure how much of it I can watch. Part of me wanted to reach through the screen and pull the trigger so we could just get on with our lives.

I guess that is the point, though. This stuff is not comfortable. It is easier to just go home, like a drone pilot after a hard day’s work, than it is to stay engaged with the tough issues. In a sense, we are the eyes in the sky, observing what is going on. We can and often do just turn a blind eye—embracing our detachment from bombs going off in East Africa, the Middle East, or wherever. But that hardly frees us from guilt.

This is all interesting stuff. And the whole point about our detachment from the carnage we inflict deserves careful attention. But a lot of this does not come through very vividly in “Eye in the Sky”. To me, the movie comes across as either, or sometimes both, of two extremes: Either glorifying military leaders for taking collateral damage super duper seriously, or as pushing a very naïve, hula-hoopers-must-not-die critique of war. And, even setting aside the philosophical flat-footedness here, all this really does detract from how compelling the story is. So, one way or another, “Eye in the Sky” ends up falling short.

"Deadpool"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

If you want to be a superhero, you’ve got to get certain things right. You have to be moral, dignified, and honorable. You have to do nice things all the time. You have to have a booming voice that promotes peace, goodness, capital T Truth, and so on. You have to have a good strong, descriptive name like Superman, or Wonder Woman, or the Flash. You have to care about people, especially the disadvantaged ones. And you have to have a nice face—you’ve got to be a looker.

Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) has none of these things. He is a crass, brutal, irreverent, deeply flawed, alto who couldn’t care less about peace, goodness, or capital T anything, who is named after an office pool based on who will die next, and who once had quite a nice face but now looks—well, there are plenty of apt albeit R-rated descriptions of his mangled state in the movie, but suffice it to say, he’s no looker. Deadpool describes himself as a bad guy who goes after worse guys. That’s about right.

Now, it used to be he was a fairly ordinary guy—he didn’t do superhero stuff, exactly—with a wicked sense of humor and a lovely girlfriend (Vanessa—Morena Baccarin). But then he gets some bad test results from his doctor and goes off and does something stupid: He signs up for a program that promises to cure him of his ailment and, ahem, you know, turn him into a superhero.

The deal turns out to be not quite as advertised. This guy, Ajax (Ed Skrein), and this gal, Angel Dust (Gina Carano), pretty well abuse Deadpool. They inject him with some superhero juice, but then just torture him—mostly for fun it seems. He ends up looking pretty mangled.

But also kind of superhero-ish. His main thing is he can heal really fast. So he is more-or-less invincible. He is also really fast, strong, and good at fighting (not sure if that is the superhero juice, or just practice). But he is not particularly nice or moral. He does not fight crime. He is only interested in tracking down Ajax and company in hopes of a cure so that he can return unashamed and whole to his lovely girlfriend.

You can imagine how the plot plays out. But this movie has a light enough touch that it never feels pat or boring. Whereas some movies like this can tend to feel like a marathon sprint with a 100-pound pack, this one feels more like a jog in the park. Some movies like this try too hard to look like they aren’t trying too hard. But “Deadpool” feels effortless.

“Deadpool” is nothing if not fun. I can imagine people saying this movie is just O.K., or nothing exceptional, but, as long as they can abide the crassness and over-the-top gore, I cannot imagine too many people saying they didn’t like it at all. It really is fabulously entertaining.

First of all, the action sequences are a ton of fun to watch. The combat choreography is very well done. It is fast, but not “I can’t see what’s going on” or “I think I’m going to have a headache” kind of fast.

This movie is also funny. Sometimes the quick-draw, irreverent humor is a little too persistent for my taste. But most of the time it works. Deadpool always has one eye on the camera, one tongue in cheek, and all of his wits aimed at brutally mocking superhero tropes. It is a worthy target, and, for the most part, “Deadpool” doesn’t miss.

So, you know, go see “Deadpool”. It’s good.

"The Revenant"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“The Revenant” may be the movie of the year. It has 12 Oscar nominations—more than any other movie—including for Best Actor (Leonardo DiCaprio), Best Director (Alejandro G. Inarritu), Best Supporting Actor (Tom Hardy), and of course, Best Picture. Inarritu is looking for back-to-back homeruns, after crushing the Oscars last year with “Birdman”. All in all, it has been a good year for Inarritu, DiCaprio, and company.

I assure you the same cannot be said for this movie’s main character. He has a decidedly bad year. This movie is based on the true story of Hugh Glass, a frontiersman and fur trader. It all starts when Indians attack Glass’ (DiCaprio) hunting team. Arrows skewer a good many of the team; most of the rest get beat to death, scalped, or worse. Glass, on the other hand, gets out of the melee relatively unscathed.

So you might be thinking, “Oh, lucky him, he survived.”

Not so fast. A little later, while hunting, Glass gets mauled by a grizzly bear. It’s pretty brutal. He gets clawed, stomped, bitten, thrown, and dragged in a terribly violent, awful way. And yet somehow Glass is able to fight the bear and win (well, let’s call it a draw).

So you might be thinking, “Oh good, he fought off the bear. And at least he didn’t die like so many of the others.”

Hold on a second. As Glass lies there—a bloody, broken bag of meat and bones—he looks up at the tall, menacing trees around him (a frequently reoccurring shot), which are swaying frenetically with the cold, bitter wind, promising to crash down all around and on him in an nefarious assault from above. And as Glass is further beaten and abused, buried alive, dropped off cliffs, burned, drowned, shot, slashed, stabbed, starved, and, as his son—the only thing left he loves—is ripped from him, we see that Glass is no lottery winner. On the contrary, at times—perhaps most of the time—his continued survival, his every single breathe, feels as merciless and cruel as anything else. Just let him die. Let it end!

But Glass, tougher than any kind of nails, pushes on. It is his will to survive, or vengeance, or … I don’t know exactly what it is fuelling him. But, one way or another, he viciously defends every last breath.

“The Revenant” has been compared to Terrence Malick films like “The Tree of Life” and “The New World”. The comparison is apt in a lot of ways (for one thing, these movies share brilliant cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki). But some have also pointed out that, whereas Malick has a generally romantic, “in-awe-of-nature” sort of vision, Inarratu’s vision—at least in this movie—seems cold, harsh, and bleak. Nature is no comfort to Glass’; it is his menace—his waking nightmare.

I’m not completely sure. It is true that there are plenty of important differences between Inarritu’s and Malick’s visions. But now I am reminded of a line in Malick’s World War II epic, “The Thin Red Line”, when, in the heat of a battle, we see a shot of a wounded bird; then a voiceover says, “One man looks at a dying bird and thinks there’s nothing but unanswered pain—that death’s got the final word, it’s laughing at him. Another man sees that same bird, feels the glory, feels somethin’ smiling through.” It may be tough to see anything smiling through Glass. But there is absolutely something glorious, sublime, and penetrating about his fight, his will, his ferocious struggle.

Whatever the right way to see Glass’ struggle is, one thing I am sure of is “The Revenant” is an extremely impressive achievement. It is beautifully shot—in sequence, and only using natural light. Everything about this movie, from the cinematography, to the score, to the screenplay, to the editing, is beautifully composed. In all of the technical ways that a movie like this ought to make us feel the struggle, the mood, the despair, the pain, it absolutely does. It is a huge technical success.

Now, I am normally tepid about DiCaprio. But he nails this one. And the same goes for Hardy (though I’ve always liked him).

Sometimes I wonder about Inarritu. I wonder whether his evocative imagery really does evoke anything, or whether it is symbolism for symbolism’s sake. Whether it is a dream in a broken down church filled with icons of Christ crucified, or the many striking visions of a lost love urging Glass on, or a gruesome image of rebirth, or any of Inarritu’s other cinematic departures from “reality”, it looks like Inarritu is telling (or showing) us something. In other of his movies I doubt he really is. But in this one I think he may have something to say.

"The Good Dinosaur"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“The Good Dinosaur” starts off with a bit of surprise. 65 million years ago a giant asteroid is jostled from its peaceful orbit and bumped off into space; it hurtles in a beeline for my home and yours, aka Planet Earth, speeding at breakneck speed bent on complete annihilation, and … it misses. It misses! Dinosaurs look up to see a bright streak across the night sky and then go back to munching on their greens.

This is a good edit for the dinosaurs. No impact, no ice age, no extinction. And they make good on this windfall—this bit of extra time to evolve. They shed their backward ways and become civilized. Some learn to farm, others become ranchers. There are still plenty of baddies—as we all know civilization doesn’t omit the uncivilized. But all in all the dinos are doing pretty well.

A case in point: the stars of this movie. They are a family of farming Apatosauruses (think long neck, long tail, like a Brontosaurus). Poppa (Jeffrey Wright) and Momma (Frances McDormand) oversee the tilling, planting, and reaping of their quaint cornfield, while Buck (Ryan Teeple and Marcus Scribner), Libby (Maleah Nipay-Padilla) and Arlo (Jack McGraw and Raymond Ochoa) help out.

Well, Buck and Libby help out. Arlo tries. But he is a knobby-kneed, clumsy, awkward, timid little runt who, despite his best intentions, fouls things up more often than not. As his brother and sister grow into sturdy young behemoths and make their marks on the farm, Arlo is left in the dust. He looks to be soft to the core—un-toughen-up-able.

But that doesn’t stop Poppa from trying. He prods and pushes Arlo along—sometimes patiently, sometimes not. Again, Arlo tries. But he just doesn’t seem cut out for the hard life of a dinosaur, or a farmer, or a farming dinosaur.

Nonetheless, it is tough-as-nails Poppa who gets the worst of it one day during their desensitivity training. A terrible storm sweeps him away, leaving the already short-staffed family in a tough spot, and Arlo as enfeebled as ever. Then when Arlo himself falls into the river and gets swept off into the wilderness, you think, that’s it he’s done for.

But finding his way back home turns out to be just the lesson in bravery that Arlo needed. He deals with the elements, fights off predators, finds shelter, and even gains a companion/pet—a little feral human, Spot (Jack Bright), who acts just like a dog. Arlo is like Simba in “The Lion King”, who has to find his own way without his father. Or he is like Littlefoot in “The Land Before Time”, who has to find his way to safety after losing a parent. Or maybe it’s more like “Bambi”, or “Finding Nemo”, or “The Jungle Book”, or … etc.

O.K., so there is a lot of recycled material in “The Good Dinosaur”. In fact, the most original thing about it is the three-minute Pixar short that comes first and of course has nothing to do with the movie. Still, “The Good Dinosaur” is sweet. It tells the story—the same ol’ story—pretty well. It has a few of those blessed Pixar tear-jerking moments. And, best of all, it has Sam Elliott (think big white mustache and extremely gravelly voice) playing a cowboy T-Rex.

So while this movie is not as original or inventive or fresh as one might like, I say it’s still worth it.

"Steve Jobs"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;

The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.

And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,

A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game …

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,

For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat …”

—Ernest Thayer, “Casey at the Bat”

The year is 1984. Outside a huge convention center in California, droves of patrons eagerly await the launch of Steve Jobs’ (Michael Fassbender) baby: the Macintosh computer. Critics say it doesn’t do anything, and that people will not like that it is a closed system—incompatible with all non-Macintosh hardware and software (which aptly represents Jobs’ my-way-or-the-highway mentality). Steve Wozniak (Seth Rogen) begs Jobs to give more attention to Apple’s workhorse money-maker, the Apple 2. But Jobs is his baby’s shill. The Mac is simple and user friendly, he insists. And a million will be sold in the first 90 days. Jobs was wrong, his critics right. Strike one.

The year is 1988. Another crowd anticipates Jobs’ new creation. Jobs is no longer at Apple. He has a new company and a new computer: NeXT. It’s pretty. But critics say it doesn’t do anything. Wozniak insists that NeXT will fail. Jobs pushes it anyway. Again, Jobs was wrong, his critics right. Strike two.

The year is 1998. A crowd is lined up once again. Jobs is back at Apple. He sold them NeXT’s operating system and made them take him in the deal. He stripped and rebuilt his old, flagging company, and put all its hopes on his latest brainchild: The iMac. He got one more pitch—one more ball to swing at. But this time, unlike Casey, Jobs doesn’t miss.

What kept him from striking out in the bottom of the ninth? Luck? Fate? Was it all part of his plan? Did he whiff a couple of times on purpose just to set up the pitcher? Or was it pure grit? Was his pride and thirst for recognition so strong that he simply willed the ball over the fence?

Who knows. It is hard to distinguish the man from the legend when it comes to Steve Jobs (partly because of his chameleon-like adaptability). And I doubt there is any point in asking whether the Steve Jobs of “Steve Jobs” depicts the real Steve Jobs. What’s important is that there is this character—this really interesting and compelling, yet enigmatic character.

And boy, is there this character. Michael Fassbender provides the raw materials and director Danny Boyle does some shaping, but it is writer Aaron Sorkin who breathes the breath of life. His Jobs is archetypal yet somehow real. Sorkin once remarked that he likes hearing his smarter friends talking. This makes it sound like Sorkin doesn’t really understand what they are saying. Yet, whether or not he understands the content of their conversations, man, does he get them. Just as Yeats, Thoreau, Homer and Einstein somehow evinced an exceptional familiarity with the world around them—a world which they were in awe of and knew they could never fully describe or grasp—so too Sorkin once again shows how he understands his subjects, and how, with great artistry, he can reveal them to us without reducing or simplifying them.

This movie so engagingly invites us to ask: What makes Jobs Jobs? There is no simple answer. Jobs is ambitious, persistent, shrewd, egotistical, stubborn, sarcastic, self-centered, mean, brilliant, and almost certainly a lunatic. But it is way more nuanced than that. At one point Jobs describes himself as “indifferent”. But this is not quite right. Sure, at times he behaves with what seems like cold indifference, but concern always finds a way to creep in. He ends up giving the money, remembering the comment, noticing what he seemed to be ignoring.

And yet there are more sinister subtleties, like when Jobs offhandedly but sincerely resents there being a certain “offer the devil never made me”. Like his soul is on the market—he’s just waiting for Lucifer’s call.

At one point Wozniak says the difference between him and Jobs is Jobs is an “asshole”. I like this description. It suggests he is mean in an arrogant and selfish way. That seems about right. But even this gets complicated in the end.

Again, I don’t really care whether any of this speaks to the real Steve Jobs. “Steve Jobs” is a movie about a character. It is a terrifically rendered character. You not only want to watch him and learn what makes him tick, you also want to think about what this character represents—what he says about us.

The Steve Jobs of “Steve Jobs” does that. He is one of the best film characters in a long while.