Reviews by yord

I went into this movie with no expectations and was completely blown away by its honesty and genuine goodwill. Oliver (MacGregor) has just lost his mother, and now, after decades of guilt and repression, his father Hal (Plummer) has come out of the closet. At over 70 years old, he yearns for the opportunity to explore and experiment, and his joy is infectious as he learns to love again. This isn’t to say he didn’t love his wife—their story is one of dedication, risk-taking, and true yearning for perfection. Still, it is a lot for Oliver to handle, and things only get harder for him and his own love life as Hal is diagnosed with terminal cancer. This is truly a gem, revealing much about modern families and love; how sure you are one second that this person is your perfect match only to wonder where that solid feeling went. Director Mike Mills shows that although others may seem to be going through much different struggles, you can still find inspiration and learn from them—there isn’t much that separates us, at all.

A pitch-perfect film about violence, death, greed, and hopelessness. Llewellyn Moss stumbles onto a briefcase full of money that brings him anything but good fortune. There are endless scenes of breathtaking cinematography and a poetic ending, which is a welcome change from the clear-cut Hollywood endings that I’ve seen too much of. The characters are endlessly interesting, most notably that of Anton Chigurh. What an enigma; he seems more like a machine or a ghost than an actual human being, and sometimes we think he might believe he is a spectre. This is a favorite movie of mine because of the atmosphere, the editing, the cinematography, the acting, the directing, the sound work… basically everything about this movie is as close to perfect as I’ve seen. This movie is not about the money, nor is it about Llewellyn. Nor is it about Anton. It is about principles, rules, and purposes that people give themselves to live by. It is about the fear of the unknown or the enigma; the incomprehensibility and stoicism of the universe. It is about unspeakable violence, and the idea that the “good ol’ days” were just as dire. That this horrible evil is out there, maybe not physically, but it has existed and will continue to exist until there is no one left to know or care.

Jim Carrey goes low-key in this inspired and dreamlike film. Broken and pained by a lost relationship, he chooses to erase Clementine (Winslet) from his memories without thinking of the consequences. A great, wildly inventive screenplay by Kaufman and ethereal visuals by Gondry put this film on just about every favorite list I see, and mine is no exception. Watching Joel and Clementine dissolve each other into nothing and seeing them struggle to reconnect is simply heart-wrenching and, despite everything, hopeful. Because as they get closer and closer to oblivion, they realize how much they truly cherish the memories they shared. The love that was so strong before reveals how fragile it is under the pressure of pettiness and bickering, but it remains eternal.

After being burned by the sexed-up sequel to Deus Ex, one of the greatest games in history, I was skeptical about the much-hyped prequel—but this game really hooked me; quite subversively, in that before anything else I found myself actually caring about my character, Adam Jensen, and found it easy to relate to him and his situation. The way his past seems to be mirrored in the situations he’s put into from the start really defines him and the other characters, which grounded the tech-infused world into something more human. Which, in turn helped me digest the plot: faceless, (unbelievably) evil corporate entities and the people running them have attacked and stolen highly valuable research of a rival corporation—Sarif industries, where Adam Jensen works. I guess they wanted the global nanotech augmentation market to be sans-Sarif…

This game borrows heavily from Metal Gear Solid, Splinter Cell: Conviction, L.A. Noire, and of course Deus Ex, but it manages to form its own distinct style. The sneaking is the best part of the game, and the expansive level designs are designed for those most eager to do so and explore—in fact you’re rewarded for it! And then there’s the hacking: I’ve never had this much fun with one of these minigames! It actually seems like you are doing something useful, and perhaps even learning a thing or two along the way about how internal security systems function. Which is how I felt about the persuasion conversations, too. Once you get the social augment, some helpful UI overlays display interesting information about the character’s behavior, types, and how certain types generally respond to your given reactions. All of this combined makes for a very rich story development and fun, fluid gameplay.

And then there are the boss fights. There are four of them, and unlike in the original game, you cannot avoid them. These fights contrast so heavily with every other part of this game that I couldn’t help but wonder when they were implemented and who on Earth thought they would be fun. Your augments are basically useless, since you are trapped in a small room for every one of them, and most of my augs were to help me be sneaky—which is the main function of the game. And alright, I can handle a boss being more difficult to kill than other, regular guards, but come on… I can’t knock them out, I can’t take them down with one, two or three headshots, I can’t stay hidden… and they all have infinite grenades. These situations basically force the player to do the run-and-gun playthrough, and it is not fun. Have I said that enough? After two of these boss fights, they started to take me out of the universe and made me more of a critic. I’m a fan of convoluted plots when they are done right (MGS2) but this one just didn’t make the vast conspiracy behind it all believable enough, when it came to the final boss.

All in all, I had an enjoyable time with the game, being satisfied with three of the four endings. I can’t undersell how fun the majority of the game was—the sneaking mechanics work so fluidly and the huge (and gorgeous—I haven’t even mentioned how beautiful this engine is) and wonderfully interactive gameworld is a joy to explore. And yet, the boss fights remain.

**** 1/2

This is a warm, quirky masterpiece. Miranda July writes, directs, and stars in this comedy about connecting with people in the strangest ways possible. It starts off with an unlucky shoe salesman who is going through a painful divorce (for him). He packs his things, moving into a one-bedroom apartment with his two kids, and to make sure his kids still know their dad loves them as well as their mother, he smiles as he pours lighter fluid on his hand and ignites it. The movie shows how the smallest of interactions can lead to great life-changing moments, often when you don’t expect it—often when you are the most vulnerable. The film shows that it’s OK to be afraid, lonely, sad. Everyone’s trying to do their best, though it doesn’t always seem that way. Wonderfully written, very witty, and contains one of the most hilarious scenes involving ASCII poop you’ll ever see. Yes. ASCII poop.

Werner Herzog takes us on an expedition to the barrens of a frozen Antarctica. Here, the inhabitants seem to be sort of lost but found. They have spent their years traveling the globe and they all happened to end up in—or were strangely attracted to—the same place: McMurdo. The people Herzog interviewed all seem to have positive outlooks and very interesting perspectives on life and living, and I thought it was strange to see a city full of people like this. Herzog then takes us away from the city and shows even more strangeness, not only from other people, but the wildlife and environment itself. Absolutely beautiful images from under the ice, strange inorganic mating calls from seals, an alternate universe inhabited by neutrinos, seemingly mentally ill penguins, and a frozen sturgeon directly under the south pole encased in its own shrine. This is a documentary to see.

Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. When I walked out of the New York theater after I saw it the first time, I didn’t know what to think. I felt something, but I didn’t know what. My mind was focused on the burning house and the series of illnesses that Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman) suffers. I thought about how clever it was to hide an event such as the burning house right under our noses throughout the whole film, and yet we’re still heartbroken at what happens because of it. And then I saw it again. It is a masterpiece--finely crafted and intricately layered--that rewards multiple viewings. Kaufman, the director and screenwriter, has shot for the moon, knowing full well that he would never make it, and shows that he has accomplished exactly what he wanted. Caden’s life is theater. He gets a MacArthur genius grant and sets off to create “something real.” So, of course, he hires actors to play real people. And then he hires actors to play the actors playing real people, and eventually hires an actor to play himself (who understands Caden better than Caden does). But he is distraught. Caden is stuck in his anxious state of being, forever dreading his inevitable death—stuck worrying about his daughter, his wife, his lover, his health, his play... his play... his play... all the while aging without even noticing that life is passing by--whether he pays attention to it or not.

Don Lope de Aguirre travels down into the heart of the jungle in search of El Dorado. This is a tale of madness, treachery, and greed--and it is (one of) Herzog’s masterpiece(s). Kinski’s performance is both mesmerizing and menacing. Beautiful and poetic imagery inhabit each frame. When I first watched it, I was hypnotized from the start with the impressive opening shot of a huge mass of Spanish conquistadors and their native slaves working their way through treacherous mountain ranges and swamps--all with the dreamlike music of Popol Vuh droning in the background. But it was the end that really pulled me in: a shot that spins uncontrollably in a whirlpool, and all we see is the delusional Aguirre in a childlike battle with tiny monkeys. Power struggles and deceit infect everyone on the raft. When will it end? How will it end? Everyone but Aguirre seems to know.

Truly the most terrifying film I’ve seen to date. This film is David Lynch’s bizarre nightmare made real for all of us to experience. Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) is having a child. This is a life-changing experience for him, but not in a good way. His child is deformed, alien-like in its demeanor. It almost looks like a leech, and it sucks the life out of Henry. If you’ve ever seen a David Lynch movie, you know that his storytelling is anything but normal and that really keeps the feeling of a nightmare, with this weird dream-logic sulking under every element of the film. The Man in the Planet, the Lady in the Radiator, the unsettling encounter with Mr. and Mrs. X—moments and images that are forever ingrained in my mind. If you have been thinking about having a child, do yourself a favor and skip this movie because you may never again want to.

If you would have told me that my new litmus test would be a film consisting of a conversation between theater director Andre Gregory and playwright Wallace Shawn, I probably would have believed you, honestly, but only after some serious discussion--which is exactly what this movie is so great at. Andre has been feeling disillusioned, and so his directing has been put on hiatus. He has been travelling to remote places, visiting with people who do not speak his language and participating in bizarre rituals in order to find something meaningful to re-spark his life again. However, things haven’t been working out quite like he’d planned. But slowly, Wally starts to chime in on some of Andre’s insights and we see that most people are in that same rut, trying their hardest to block out the imperfections of the world. A riveting conversation about the nature of reality, what it means to be human, the need for connections in the bizarre alienation of city life, technology, and love. This movie is a wonderful spark for intelligent conversations about things most people don’t spend a lot of time talking about, but really should.