"BlackkKlansman"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

It’s not every day that an undercover cop successfully infiltrates a criminal organization by becoming one of them. After all, it must be hard. It’s got to be a real high wire act. I suppose that’s why they make movies about it.

But those old cop thrillers are downright pedestrian compared to what Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) of the Colorado Springs Police Department did back in the 1970s. He infiltrated the Ku Klux Klan. He became a member! Also, by the way: He’s black.

This happened. Really. In real life. A black police officer joined the KKK.

But, actually, Stallworth starts his undercover work as a wire-wearing informant against, ironically, the Black Panthers. He attends rallies, talks to group leaders, and even cozies up to local-agitator-turned-love-interest, Patrice Dumas (Laura Harrier). Stallworth is understandably conflicted about this project. He doesn’t seem fully on board with the Black Panthers’ agenda, but he does care about what they care about. And the racism he faces in, for example, in his own police department, is plenty to make him doubtful that the Black Panthers are merely the unhinged terrorist organization his superiors describe it as.

And it’s certainly no KKK! Whereas the Black Panthers assignment was given to Stallworth, surveilling the KKK is a project he sought out. He isn’t conflicted at all about taking them down.

What he does, seemingly of his own volition, is cold call the local KKK leadership (and, eventually, Grand Wizard David Duke himself) and establishes contact by telling them how honest-to-goodness racist he is. Name a non-white-protestant group—he professes to hate them all. It’s music to the KKK’s ears.

But then it’s time to meet them. Um. Problem. Black guy hanging with the KKK? Not really a thing. So Stallworth has to convince another cop, Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver), who is Jewish but passes himself off as of purest Aryan descent, to be the in-person version of Ron Stallworth.

Talk about a high-wire act! What starts as a little poking and prodding quickly becomes some real deep doo-doo. The only question is, who’s it going to be on?

As for-real as this all seems, Stallworth is, interestingly, portrayed as a bit naïve. He hates racism, of course, and knows it’s a real problem. But throughout the movie—and especially in the beginning—he doesn’t take the KKK very seriously as a threat. He thinks they’re a joke. A really bad joke, to be sure, but more of a fringe sideshow. He doesn’t think they are a real force to be reckoned with, especially not at any national, political level.

So he laughs and he jokes about the KKK, and although he does take his work very seriously, when the prospect of nailing some of these baddies becomes real, it’s almost as if he thinks, well, that’ll be that—we’ll have settled this whole white nationalist racism stuff.

[Cough] Of course he’s wrong about that. But this is one of the more brilliant aspects of “BlackkKlansman”. It’s easy to see evil in the KKK. But it’s not always easy to see how deep, how widespread, and how dangerous that evil is in American culture. Even Stallworth, the very man who took on the KKK, can, it seems, underestimate his enemy—in certain circumstances, he can even see “both sides” of the conflict.

Both sides. Really good people. America first. Make America great again. These not so subtle allusions to contemporary politics are peppered throughout the movie. But the lack of subtlety here is also brilliant, I think. Director Spike Lee puts these things side by side, almost as if he’s holding up two photos for us to compare, and says, “Here” and “Here”—just look at this madness.

When Stallworth closes his case, it seems like he thinks, maybe even for just a moment, that the white nationalists are finished—that maybe, probably, the KKK and their ilk will fade into the uglier annals of human history.

45 years later, and here we are.

"Sorry to Bother You"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Cassius Green’s (Lakeith Stanfield) job prospects are not very impressive. Just to get a telemarketing job, Cassius makes up some story about having worked at a bank, he puts together a fake “Employee of the Month” award that he proudly props on his knee throughout the interview, and he even brings in some giant trophy he supposedly won in high school (he didn’t). Just to get a telemarketing job!

Alas, Cassius’ fake news is quickly debunked. But, luckily, as the interviewer points out, the standards for getting a telemarketing job are not exactly sky high—pretty much anyone can get the job. Plus, the interviewer figures Cassius’ fabrications show initiative.

And thus Cassius’ bottom-of-the-barrel scraping finally turns up some dregs. He has a job! It is a terrible job, of course, but Cassius is just the man for it.

In fact, Cassius turns out to be a great telemarketer. Though he is meek and uncommanding in person, Cassius finds his groove on the line. His main trick—passed down to him by Langston (Danny Glover), an old veteran telemarketer—is to speak in a “white voice” … you know, like how white people talk. And Cassius has a great one (in fact, it is literally a white voice—it’s spoken by David Cross (aka Tobias from “Arrested Development”)).

So Cassius is on his way up. Literally, actually. The “power callers”, as they are mythically referred to, work upstairs—they even have their own special elevator with like a 500-number security code. It’s a telemarketer’s dream to ascend to such lofty heights.

Except some telemarketers—well, most of them you’d have to think—know that upward mobility isn’t much of a thing in the telemarketing biz. They are lowly peons, and they know it.

And they hate it. After all, they bring in all the money, but they hardly share in the profits. So through the encouragement of a perennial rabble-rouser named Squeeze (Steven Yeun), the employees of the telemarketing firm decide to band together, unionize, and then strike. And Cassius, along with his girlfriend, Detroit (Tess Thompson), and his best friend, Salvador (Jermaine Fowler), are right there on the front picket lines.

So when Cassius is called in to his boss’s office, he thinks he’s going to be fired. Instead, he’s promoted. Well, then, um, you see, things are different. Lowly-peon Cassius was up in arms, defiant, a rebel for the cause, etc. But upper-crust Cassius, well, that’s not so simple—he has bills to pay, after all, and, plus, it’s not like he is against what his friends and former colleagues are fighting for.

Thus, Cassius finds himself in one of those classic capitalist conundrums. It’s easy to fight the system … until it’s about to get you paid.

And, indeed, “Sorry to Bother You” is at its very best when it is hitting these notes—specifically when it is rendering its blistering critique of capitalism, consumerism, wage slavery, plutocratic politicians, and basically everything about how our economy is ordered nowadays. It is sharp, incisive, and, more often than not, spot on.

“Sorry to Both You” is also funny if you have the right sense of humor. I don’t think I have the right sense of humor. (Or maybe I was just mad that my MoviePass didn’t work. Again. Ugh.) Still, I could see that, if I did have the right sense of humor, I’d find the movie funny—maybe even quite funny. It is strange, surreal, quirky, understated, and dry. Cassius and Detroit, in particular, have a certain warmth and liveliness to them that comes, at least in part, from their not being cookie-cutter characters.

And that’s a relief—a relief that the movie is (potentially) funny and warm. Because otherwise it might just piss you off. Maybe it will anyway. For what it is tackling—specifically, the plight of non-elite workers—is not a happy topic.

So, one way or another, this movie is evocative. It may make you laugh. Or cry. Or both. But it should stir something up.

"Incredibles 2"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Before “Incredibles 2” flew onto the screen at my local theater not a week ago, a special kind of preview came up. It was the voice actors from “Incredibles 2”—Holly Hunter, Craig T. Nelson, Samuel L. Jackson, and so on—as well as some of the creators. They wanted to apologize, with utmost earnestness, with heartfelt sincerity, for taking so dang long to make a second “Incredibles” movie. They just knew, deep down, how badly we wanted—nay, needed—yet another superhero movie, and indeed, one featuring none other than them. Imagine that!

Well, all right, maybe they’re right. We don’t need many more superhero movies, I don’t think, but any time is high time for another “Incredibles” movie.

“Incredibles 2” picks up right where the first one left off. Fresh off vanquishing the evil mastermind, Syndrome, our incredible family of superheroes—Elastigirl (Holly Hunter), Violet (Sarah Vowell), Dash (Huck Milner), Jack-Jack (Eli Fucile), and Mr. Incredible himself (Craig T. Nelson)—are confronted with a new baddie. So they immediately spring into action, confront evil, save lives, pursue the enemy, fight the good fight, etc.

And what do they get for their heroism? Arrested. Superheroes are banned, after all. So despite their care for the common folk, they get no love back. One problem is they keep smashing up everything around them. For example, when they fight the aforementioned baddie—a mole-looking guy named Underminder who is trying to rob a bank—they pretty much demolish several city blocks. And they didn’t even stop him! If they would have just left the menacing marsupial alone he would have run away with the cash but nothing and no one would have been harmed.

The other problem is that, when the superheroes do their work, the only thing the townsfolk ever see is destruction. They don’t witness all the heroic stuff. So they associate superheroes, not with heroism, hope, safety, or whatnot, but rather, they associate them with cataclysm. Hence, they don’t like them.

So superheroes are banned. No superheroism allowed!

But at least one guy (aside from the superheroes) wants to change that. Winston Deaver (Bob Odenkirk), a rich telecommunications tycoon, believes that the world is better off with the supers afoot. So he, along with his sister, Evelyn (Catherine Keener), hatch a plan to reshape the masked crusaders’ public image so as to alleviate the ongoing discrimination against them.

They start with Elastigirl, since, in general, she does less destroying than, say, Mr. Incredible. Winston and Evelyn put a tiny camera in Elastigirl’s suit so that, when she does her high speed hijinks, everyone can see that she really is fighting the good fight—that she is putting her life at risk, trying her best to preserve life, limb, and infrastructure, and is doing a pretty darn good job at it.

It works. People’s perceptions of superheroes start to come around. There is even some talk of lifting the superhero ban.

Meanwhile, Mr. Incredible is in a fight of his own. He’s playing daddy daycare. He’s got to watch the kids while mom goes to work. At first he thinks, “I’m tough, no problem”. But, of course, he really is no match for Dash’s math homework or Violet’s boy trouble. And then when Jack-Jack starts exhibiting super powers—uncontrollable ones at that—it’s mayhem at the homestead.

So each parent has their respective task. And they each have their challenges too. Jack-Jack is exploding and occasionally popping into another dimension, on the one hand, and evil doers are providing their own kind of challenge for Elastigirl.

But it’s not just the regular villains, or even ones of the super sort, that are tying Elastigirl in knots. Someone else is lurking behind the scenes. This person, whoever they are, is committed to keeping superheroes in the dog house or, even better, the big house.

“Incredibles 2” is a ton of fun. As I said before, it picks up right where the last one left off. And not just story-wise. The same charms enchant this superhero family and the same thrills keep this moving humming from start to finish.

Now, with that said, I do have to register that “Incredibles” and, now, “Incredibles 2” are not at the top of my Pixar list. That’s because, while fun and even touching at times, these movies don’t push the envelope like some of the others. They don’t provide the emotional gut punch of, say, the opening montage of “Up”. They don’t evoke that deep sense of poignant sadness that we get at the end of “Inside Out,” or the longing brought on by Jesse’s tale in “Toy Story 2”, or the golden nostalgia found in the ending sequences of “Toy Story 3”. Nor do they offer anything like the biting (yet totally) apt social commentary of “Wall-E”. In sort, the “Incredibles” movies won’t make you cry, or ache, or remember; nor will they force to think too hard.

However, they will make you smile.

"Solo: A Star Wars Story"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“Solo: A Star Wars Story”

Han Solos is one of the most charming, compelling characters in the “Star Wars” franchise. So why not make a movie about him? For big studios like Disney and Lucasfilm, the formula is temptingly simple: Get a bunch of famous actors together, find a team of writers to come up with a bracingly safe script, spend a few hundred million on special effects, and, viola, you’ve got yourself a cash cow. It may be a mere clone, which is carefully concocted in a big Hollywood studio “laboratory”, but, hey, it’s Han Solo we’re talking about here! This cow is fat, and its moo is so reassuringly familiar.

As we all know, Han Solo (Alden Ehrenreich) is a bad boy. He has to be, in fact. Because where he grew up poor people like him have to scratch, claw, trick, and steal in order to make ends meet.

From the very opening scenes, Han, along with his girlfriend, Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke), is on the run. Some pissed off baddies are after him. He manages to charm his way out of it, but, alas, Qi’ra gets captured in the process. It’s always the loved ones that get screwed.

After running away, Han tries his hand at the military. Doesn’t work out. Then he turns to marauding—with a guy named Beckett (Woody Harrelson). That’s more promising (for obvious reasons). But even there Han runs into serious trouble. After failing to deliver some goods, his criminal overlord, Dryden Vos (Paul Bettany), threatens to kill Han and Beckett if they don’t come up with something soon.

So now we’re set up for the addition of a few standard ingredients—the genetic building blocks of a film like this. Yes, Han is going to get the goods. But he’s also got to get hooked up with some good guys—preferably rebels—so that we know that, criminal history be damned, Han is a noble soul. And he’s got to meet some familiar people, such as Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo) and Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover), so that we can feel the warmth of “Star Wars” nostalgia. And, of course, it’s got to have a promising start, a very dire middle, and plenty of impossible near-misses by the end.

That’s the recipe, at least. But will this be different? Han Solo is different in various ways from the likes of Luke Skywalker or Rey. So there’s potential there for a different, more complex approach. Might “Solo” actually break the mold?

Of course not.

“Solo” is an “on in the background” sort of movie. Despite its cutting-edge visual effects, it doesn’t require, or even really ask for, any kind of careful attention. The story is exactly what you’d expect, the plot is ho-hum, the themes are thoroughly unoriginal and underdeveloped, and the acting is fine but not particularly compelling. So, yeah, it’s pretty … but so what? Pretty action movies are a dime a dozen these days.

Now, of course, the movie is fun in its way. It’s certainly action packed. Yet, with the recent proliferation of “Star Wars” movies and the burgeoning of other sci-fi franchises, as well as all the super hero stuff and everything else so much like it, I admit I’ve lost my grip on why “action packed” is still thought to name a distinguishing, standout, good-making feature of a film. And I don’t see why we—the viewers—ought not expect a bit more.

“Star Wars” fans will of course want to see this movie. And they may even be satisfied with it—if for no other reason than they can bathe in the aura of “Star Wars” for a couple of hours. I’m not exactly a “Star Wars” aficionado, but I too enjoy the feel of the franchise—the look of the droids, costumes, light sabers, starships, etc., all set to John Williams’ famous musical themes.

That’s why this movie, for all its mediocrity, may be worthy as an “on in the background” sort of thing. You can, if you want, make it fill a room like elevator music—pleasant enough as long as you don’t pay too much attention to it.

"Isle of Dogs"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Wes Anderson’s “Isle of Dogs” is based on a legend. Or, I guess, that there is such a legend is probably itself a legend. But, regardless, the story is that, in ancient Japan, two factions—the cat people and the dog people—were at war. The cat people were being mean, maybe just because they hated dogs. But then a child hero decapitated the cat people’s leader and, thus, saved the day for the dogs.

Now present day. The cat and dog people are still fighting like, well, you know what. Only now the battle is more subtle. Instead of an all-out samurai melee, the very evolved, very noble cat-loving leaders of Megasaki City are taking it to their canine counterparts through misinformation, political maneuvering, ad campaigns, and fear tactics.

The truth is: There is an outbreak of dog flu among the dog population. The pups are in a bad way. But Mayor Kobayashi (Kunichi Nomura), rather than pushing for treatment, or a cure, or rather even than expressing politician-brand sympathy (of the Grade A sanctimonious sort), instead, exploits this sad state of affairs to justify shipping all of the dogs in Megasaki City to Trash Island (which is exactly what it sounds like).

This includes Rex (Edward Norton), who is thoughtful and bossy; Boss (Bill Murray), who isn’t bossy at all; Duke (Jeff Goldblum), who isn’t nearly as tough as his name suggests; and Chief (Bryan Cranston), who is tougher than all of the others combined (he was, after all, a stray).

Evidently some of the humans of Megasaki City are all right with their pets being banished to an island full of garbage. But not everyone. Atari (Koyu Rankin), for example, isn’t having it. Atari is the distant nephew and ward of Mayor Kobayashi. So he’s important. But his dog, Spots (Live Schreiber), was sent to Trash Island, and Atari wants his pal back.

So Atari commandeers a small aircraft and heads for Trash/Dog Island. Things don’t go quite according to plan, though. And Atari makes all sorts of waves he didn’t intend to make. Atari just wants his dog back. Kobayashi, on the other hand, wants his nephew back. But he still hates dogs. Meanwhile, a growing pro-dog resistance simmers to a boil back in Megasaki City.

“Isle of Dogs” is dry. And methodical. Even slow. But it is also witty, charming, and funny. It elicits the kind of quiet chuckle that attests to amusement beyond its decibel level.

Part of this movie’s charm is its quirkiness. Consider, for example, that one of the main characters—Atari—only speaks Japanese, and his lines aren’t subtitled. So us non-Japanese speakers don’t know what he’s saying. We are left to guess, or clumsily infer, what’s up with Atari—maybe something like we do for dogs, or they do for us, but also like what we do for each other to varying extents.

There’s all sorts of nice metaphor here and throughout the movie. But the metaphor is subtle, artful, and subdued—it doesn’t distract from the story or come off as some ham-handed political commentary.

Director Wes Anderson is well known for his visual aesthetics. But there’s also quite a bit more to his work than meets the eye. He manages, in this movie as in others, to make a movie that is beautiful, fun to watch, and also thought-provoking.

Like I said, “Isle of Dogs” is dry. And slow. But it’s also primetime Wes Anderson—quirky in all the right ways and rewarding to watch and think about.

"Ready Player One"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Steven Spielberg is at his best when channeling his seven-year-old self. He’s got some good grownup stuff, but movies like “E.T.”, “Jurassic Park”, “Hook”, and “Indiana Jones” are something else—they evince and evoke childlike wonder in such a compelling way. That’s Spielberg at the top of his game.

So it’s natural to have high hopes for “Ready Player One”, which is about a bunch of kids playing video games. Or, to be a little more specific, it’s about kids, and some lame adults, tooling around in a virtual reality world called “OASIS”, which, in the 2040s, is how everyone spends their time.

That’s because the world pretty much sucks otherwise. Evidently there were a bunch of wars and riots and rebellions and things, and what’s left is mostly high-rise trailer parks in places like Columbus, Ohio. Ohio! Truly dystopian.

Well but at least OASIS is pretty cool. You put on those googles and gloves, power up your omni-directional treadmill, and then you can go anywhere, do anything, and be anyone. OASIS isn’t portrayed, initially at least, so much as an (addictive and dangerous) escape from reality; rather, it’s portrayed as an egalitarian, cyber paradise.

And that’s all possible because its creator, Halliday (Mark Rylance), was a pretty good dude who just wanted to nerd out and play video games and let everyone else do the same.

But, in real life, everyone dies, and so Halliday died, and left the fate of the virtual world hanging in the balance. However, as one final nerdy hurrah before his death, Halliday put an “Easter Egg” in OASIS—a hidden prize that can be unlocked by finding and collecting three keys won by mastering three challenges. Sounds like fun, but the real attention-grabber is the prize: Controlling stake in Halliday’s company (valued at a cool half-trillion).

So everyone is after it. Some really big company, Innovative Online Industries (IOI), which is led by Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn)—a total lame wad—wants control of OASIS so that it can put a seizure-level amount of ads in players’ fields of vision. So they’ve hired a whole army of players whose sole purpose is to find the keys.

But then there are a few independent players who don’t want IOI to get control of OASIS. Most notably, Parzival (Tye Sheridan), Art3mis (Olivia Cooke), and Aech (Lena Waithe) are serious flies in IOI’s all-consumer-ing ointment.

And, luckily, since these noble nerds are pure of heart, and thus are kindred spirits to Halliday, they have an instinctive edge over the soulless IOI troops. Even though IOI has a whole team of professional researchers dedicated to guessing where Halliday put his keys, they are getting PONED by the amateurs.

Still, IOI is rich. And that’s a major advantage. So what we have here, in “Ready Player One”, is a classic underdog story.

As I said, Spielberg is at his best when channeling his seven-year-old self. In “Ready Player One”, it’s more like Spielberg is channeling his 14-year-old self. Which isn’t as cool, or compelling. Whereas a child’s wonder, even if somewhat nerdy, is endearing—even inspiring—Spielberg’s barely pubescent gamer story is just, well, awkward … and dorky, and weird, and cheesy, but mostly just, gah, awkward. The screenplay, in particular, is about as smooth and stylish as a middle schooler’s first date. And no one wants to see, or remember, or be in the vicinity of that kind of train wreck.

So “Ready Player One” is a disappointment on the childlike-wonder front. Which isn’t to say it’s a total fail. As someone who grew up in the 80s and 90s, it’s hard not to get a warm and fuzzy feeling from this movie’s continual pop-culture references—from Atari to Terminator to Goldeneye to Twisted Sister to Iron Giant. There’s plenty of nostalgia to go around.

“Ready Player One” is enjoyable in some other ways too. For example, its made-for-3D cinematography is engrossing. And the premise is certainly cool.

But, really, at the end of the day, insofar as I liked this movie, I guess it’s mostly because I’m a sucker for Nintendo 64 references.

"Black Panther"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

“Black Panther” is all the rage. It first gained everyone’s attention for non-cinematic reasons—for its nearly all black cast, which is super rare, if not unique, in a superhero movie. But it has also gotten rave reviews as a movie—as a story about a group of people from southeast Africa who long dodged the ills of the world, but who increasingly grapple with how to deal with their broader responsibilities to the oppressed.

Within the royal family of Wakanda, there are two major factions. One side is peace-loving, conciliatory, and isolationist. The other side is more, let’s say, proactive. They think that oppressed people should be armed and dangerous, and that Wakanda should do that arming.

And Wakanda could do that, if it wanted, because Wakanda is a special place. Millions of years ago a meteor carrying a seemingly inexhaustible supply of vibranium—the strongest metal in the universe—homed right in on Wakanda. So, once people came on to the scene, they found themselves with a treasure trove of the element.

And it turns out vibranium is more than just super strong. It can do almost anything—it makes for impenetrable armor, especially potent weapons, a whole complex magnetic energy grid, and all sorts of other whiz-bang, sci-fi technology. Oh, also, it has healing powers.

But a while back Wakanda decided to sit tight with their vibranium. Not only did they set aside any imperialist ambitions, they even found a way to hide their thriving metropolis from the outside world, so that, to the more power hungry and resource-grabby countries out there (cough cough), Wakanda would look like one of the poorest places in the world. Which is sort of brilliant, because being poor really is the best way to get ignored.

This isolationist tradition is passed down from generation to generation through the hereditary monarchy led by their king, the Black Panther, who has special powers of bad-assery. The Black Panther will go out every now and then on good-will missions, often disguised as an ordinary dude, but mostly his job is to keep a low profile and minister to the people of Wakanda.

That is, until the aptly named Erik Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) decides to challenge the even-keel, kindly, righteous, and current Black Panther, T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), for the throne. Though long an outsider, Killmonger does, as it turns out, have some claim to the throne. And he’s ready to be done with this mind-your-own-business style of leadership. He wants to fight, kill, and otherwise brutalized his (and others’) oppressors.

The question, I suppose, is whether Wakanda is ready for that, or willing for it to happen, or willing to stand up to one of their own, or able to find some kind of middle ground while also trying to understand their own history and place in the world around them. Outrage is easy. But, then again, so is compliance.

As I said, the fact that “Black Panther” exists is important in all sorts of extra-cinematic ways. But I don’t feel particularly well equipped to add much to that discussion. If you’re interested, you might check out Carvell Wallace’s “Why ‘Black Panther’ Is a Defining Moment for Black America” in The New York Times or Adam Serwer’s “The Tragedy of Erik Killmonger” in The Atlantic.

But as for the movie itself—qua Marvel superhero movie—“Black Panther” isn’t quite as ground-breaking. It does less to break the mold. It’s your standard Marvel movie, with fairly standard plot points, action sequences, humor, and archetypes.

Which isn’t to say “Black Panther” is bad qua movie. It’s actually pretty good as far as these things go. It’s beautifully shot, well acted, action packed, entertaining, etc. If I didn’t have such a bad case of superhero fatigue, I might be all about it.

At any rate, the main significance of “Black Panther” clearly goes beyond its merits as movie about a superhero. And if you go into it with that context in mind, all sorts of thought provoking symbols, metaphors, and other elements will emerge. “Black Panther” will give you plenty to ponder if you let it.

If you let it. Otherwise it will just be another Marvel superhero movie. Not a bad one. But one among many. Maybe, for you, that amounts to a rave review all on its own. Still, if you’re going to go, might as appreciate its other virtues as well.