Director Report Card: Alejandro Jodorowsky (2020)

9. Psychomagic, a Healing Art

Alejandro Jodorowsky is a multi-hyphenated talent. In addition to film-making and acting, he's performed as a mime, a clown, a performance artist, and written many comics and novels. He is also a self-styled mystic and guru. He's studied and written extensively about Tarot. Since the sixties, he's presided over many classes, lectures, and conferences on therapeutic and philosophical topics. Jodorowsky would create his own form of therapy called psychomagic. Having written several books on the subject over the decades, in 2019, Jodorowsky would make a  documentary on the topic. “Psychomagic, a Healing Art,”  the director's ninth feature film, would debut on streaming services earlier this year. 

So what, exactly, is psychomagic? It is, essentially, performance art as psychotherapy. Like Freudian psychoanalysis, Jodorowsky believes that our current problems in life are rooted in trauma we experienced in our childhood. His unique therapy posits that various physical acts function as expressions of these unconscious feelings and desires, providing the catharsis necessary to move past these traumas. In “Psychomagic, a Healing Art” we see a number of Jodorowsky's various patients act out the keys to their own traumatic experiences, as designed by the director. 

If you're a fan of Alejandro Jodorowsky's movies, you probably have a certain degree of tolerance towards touchy-feely, New Age-style philosophizing. There's a difference between seeing some of these ideas acted out in movies, via the outrageous surrealism that the filmmaker usually employs, versus seeing people treat this kind of thing as a serious form of therapy. After sitting through “Psychomagic” I think it's fair to say that many of the mystical ideas Jodorowsky put forward are either non-extraordinary or complete nonsense. The most healing part of “psychomagic,” as a therapy, seems to be the most healing part of any therapy: Just being able to talk about your problems with a sympathetic ear. You really can't undersell the value of having someone who's willing to listen, to provide uncritical advice. To give you a hug when you're upset or cry with you when you really need it. 

There are times, I think, when the therapy put forward in “Psychomagic” even strike me as potential unhealthy. Like invariably all New Age treatments, psychomagic is presented as a cure for cancer. We see a woman recovering from larynx cancer go up on stage during one of Jodorowsky's symposiums. He instructs everyone in attendance to project their “energy” towards her. Naturally, we have an interview with this same woman, filmed a decade later, talking about how she's still alive. Never mind that's not how energy works or that the woman acknowledges this was simply one of many treatments she received. 

In the first scene, Jodorowsky explains a big difference between psychomagic and traditional psychotherapy. In traditional psychotherapy, a therapist touching a patient in any way is discouraged. In psychomagic, physical contact between the two is highly encouraged. Which is, ya know, pretty uncomfortable. As depicted in this documentary, psychomagic seems to involve a lot of nudity. Which is fine, if the person is comfortable with that, I guess. Yet a scene where Alejandro grabs a guy's testicles in a church and attempts to channel his own masculine energy into the other man's scrotum seems... Ill-advised. I don't think there's much therapeutic benefit to letting a 90 year old surrealist touch your balls and yell at them.  

“Psychomagic,” the movie, doesn't even do a very good job of making us understand how psychomagic, the therapy, is suppose to work. It's not until over halfway through the film that Jodorowsky actually explains the logic behind this process, describing how these acts of performance art are meant to trigger certain unconscious responses. Probably should've opened with that, Alejandro. This is not the only structural flaw in the documentary. For almost all of its run time, “Psychomagic” follows a very clear pattern. In interviews, Jodorowsky's various patients discuss their deep-rooted trauma in interviews. We then see them perform some bizarre act that is suppose to help heal them. There's then a second interview, from months later, that explain how much they've improved. The movie repeats this about a dozen time, causing its 104 minute run time to truly drag by.

The most interesting thing about “Psychomagic” has to be the weird “therapies” he designs for various people. Some of the film's antics are techniques I've seen in various New Age circles before. A woman who feels like she never connected with her mother re-enacts the birthing process. An Australian guy who resents his family puts photos of his parents and sister on pumpkins before smashing them. Jodorowsky encourages women to paint self-portraits with their menstrual blood, as a way to get more in touch with their own femininity. Carrying on the theme of casual nudity all throughout this documentary, Jodorowsky's camera has to show us this process too. One woman, a celloist, takes this therapy even further and discusses covering the back of her cello with her period blood over the course of several months.

This is not even the weirdest, grossest idea Jodorowsky prescribes. A man, a victim of child abuse, is buried alive in animal guts, vultures then feeding on the entrails. Afterwards, the director cleans the guy off with milk. An arguing couple, both with deep rooted affection issues, are forced to walk around with chains on their ankles. Afterwards, they bury the chains together. A woman, whose longtime boyfriend committed suicide, entombs the wedding dress she was meant to wear before parachuting out of an airplane. A man with a stutter dresses up as a kid, assumes a childish persona, and is taken to Euro-Disneyland. This is before the ball-squeezing incident, which is followed by Alejandro painting the guy gold and having him walk around town. 

I don't think this stuff is any more-or-less effective than any traditional forms of therapy. It seems to help the people in the movie, or at least that's how the interviews are cut together. Some of Jodorowsky's antics seem especially inspired. An agoraphobic and depressed woman in her eighties, who feels like she hasn't accomplished anything in her life, is told to water a near-by tree every day, linking her with something alive. The film's final image is a Day of the Dead parade, where hundreds of Mexicans come together to sing and honor those killed in the drug wars. Do I think this is an instantly healing act of mass magic? No. But it's a nice gesture and I can see how that might help some people feel better.

Listen, I like Alejandro Jodorowsky as a filmmaker. Speaking as someone with a low tolerance for New Age bullshit, I'm actually willing to swallow way more of his self-serving guru act than you'd probably expect. “Psychomagic” is most interesting when it focuses on the director himself, showing how his therapeutic beliefs have trickled into his movies over the years. I suspect that the people in “Psychomagic” probably do feel like these merry acts of surrealism do help them with their problems. I don't think it's especially legitimate as a form of therapy. More than any of that, “Psychomagic” is kind of a boring movie. Once you've seen one of its tricks, you've seen them all. I always welcome a new film from the shamanistic cult filmmaker but this was disappointing. [Grade: C-] 

Director Report Card: Alejandro Jodorowsky (2016)

8. Endless Poetry

It took Alejandro Jodorowsky twenty-three years to make another movie after “The Rainbow Thief” soured him on the cinematic experience. The director, well into eighties by this point, did not wait much longer to get back into the filmmaking groove again after that. Perhaps motivated to finish telling his story with the limited time he had left, Jodorowsky would quickly get to work on “Endless Poetry,” the next chapter in his autobiographical saga, not long after “The Dance of Reality” came out. After successful crowdfunding campaigns on both Kickstarter and IndieGoGo, Jodorowsky could push forward with his next attempt at a cinematic memoir. Playing festivals in 2016 and getting a general release in 2018, it was another well received new film from the aged master of surrealism.

Picking up not long after “The Dance of Reality” left off, the film follows a teenage Alejandro as his parents move him from his home in Tocopilla to Santiago, Chile. Despite his insistence that he's changed, Alejandro's father Jaime is soon back to his old, abusive ways. After becoming fed up with his parents' behavior, Alejandro cuts down his mother's beloved tree in retaliation. This impresses a homosexual cousin of Alejandro, who introduces the budding poet to a community of artists living in the city. Soon, Alejandro is growing into a young man, eager to explore the world, find love, and expand his artistic endeavors.

“Endless Poetry” is a film based on real life and real life doesn't have a three act structure. Thus, Jodorowsky's eighth feature film has little in the way of forward plot. Instead, “Endless Poetry” is mostly composed of different episodes from the filmmaker's young life. He wanders through various career paths, starting as a puppeteer, then focusing on poetry, evolving into a performance artist, occasionally working as a burglar, and even spending some time as a clown. He carves puppets for a couple who are traveling apart, as a way for them to remember each other. He has encounters with a woman who introduces him to Tarot, via a bizarre ritual. He encounters many colorful characters. Even if it lacks much in the way of a proper plot, “Endless Poetry” is too constantly filled with memorable incidents to ever be boring.

“Endless Poetry” is almost literally a portrait of an artist as a young man. After discovering a book of poetry, young Alejandro become fascinated with the artform. Yet his father demanded he studied to become a doctor instead, insisting his son have a money-making career. Only after leaving home and truly escaping his father's venomous grasp is Jodorowsky allowed to grow. Something “Endless Poetry” is wonderful at is showing the sense of community the director felt in his bohemian days. Everyone in his commune live for their art. A ballerina is on her tippy-toes at all times. A pair of "symbiotic dancers" are always carrying one another. A would-be opera singer sings all his dialogue. A film all about feeling a love for an art so intensely that it takes over your whole life, “Endless Poetry” beautifully captures the obsession and fixation of youthful growth.

More than just about anyone else out there, Alejandro Jodorowsky is an expert at blending the real and the dream-like. The film is inspired by intimate, personal memories for the director, explaining the lyrical feeling that characterizes the entire film. Dream-like touches drift in and out of the movie's reality. Stagehands dressed totally in-black weave in and out of certain scenes. In a brilliant moment, life-sized, black-and-white photographs are used to restore the town of Alejandro's youth to the glory he remembers. As in his previous film, the elder Jodorowsky appears to consult and comfort his younger self, cementing the idea of a filmmaker exorcising his own youthful demons by making a movie about it. “Endless Poetry” truly feels like a mystical memory brought to life.

Since this is an Alejandro Jodorowsky movie we're talking about here, those are far from the only surreal touches in the movie. Ideas are literalized through bizarre visuals. Such as the head of young Alejandro's father appearing, yelling discouragement at the boy as he considers his new passion. As a conservative government takes power in Chile, and Alejandro decides to leave the country, he puts inexpressive masks and Nazi flags in the marchers' hands. A thief being killed leads to an intentionally artificial plum of guts slipping from his belly. Inserting acts of surrealism into daily life was, apparently, a real habit of Jodorowsky's. After forging a friendship with Enrique Lihn, the two would go marching through people's homes or would throw raw meat at stuffy art crowds. It is unsurprising that Jodorowsky would express his credo of turning dreams and visions into reality not just through his films but in his actual life.

As much as Jodorowsky inserts dream-like imagery into his autobiography, "Endless Poetry" is largely a story of self-acceptance. Acts of forgiveness and gentle realization occur all throughout the film. At a party Alejandro throws, a man reveals to his wife that he has no hands, his wife allowing him to embrace her with his stumps. When a dwarf presents her naked body to Alejandro, he accepts her. She was dating his best friend at the time, which leads to a tearful reunion later, full of soft caresses. Learning to forgive and accept extends to the self, depicted during a sequence where Alejandro chastises himself in front of a crowded circus audience. 

It's easy to see where this idea originated. "Endless Poetry" is a movie concerned with leaving behind childhood. Alejandro carries a broken-up tricycle around in several scenes, before abandoning it for a typewriter, representing him leaving behind childish things and choosing his destiny as a poet. When he learns that his childhood home has burned down, he's overjoyed, as it allows him to completely leave his old life behind. Yet the director clearly has some regrets about his youth. "Endless Poetry's" final scene has Alejandro leaving Chile for France, rejecting his father's philosophies once and for all. He would never see him again. Yet, as the filmmaker reflects, he adds a tender coda, father and son gently kissing each other. His father was asshole but he, nevertheless, had a hand in shaping the person Jodorowsky became. 

That kiss is extra significant for another reason. Jodorowsky has talked a lot over the years about how intensely homophobic his father was, how he never even hugged his son once for fear of looking gay. Like a lot of toxic men, his father considered an emotional expression like poetry a less-than-masculine pursuit. When Alejandro's cousin kissed him, and he felt nothing, the poet was overjoyed because it was definitive proof to himself that he wasn't gay. Which is a funny and somewhat sweet scene. What is more baffling is a latter sequence where Alejandro enters a gay bar and is almost gang-raped by the men inside. It's an ugly, cartoonish moment - that concludes with a neon penis crashing to the floor - suggests the filmmaker maybe inherited more of his dad's hang-ups then he realized.

Naturally, a big part of being a young person and forging your own paths are first loves. Which Jodorowsky puts his own spin on naturally. After seeing her beating people up in a cage, Alejandro begins a relationship with Stella Diaz Varin. Varin had quite an outrageous persona for the time but Jodorowsky imagines her as an even bigger-than-life figure. She's depicted with Kool-Aid red hair, gold paint on her frequently displayed breasts, skulls tattooed down her back, and particular rituals around her sex life. To a boy who had grown up in a cloistered home with traditionalist parents, an exciting woman surely did seem this new and outrageous.

To portray his younger self, Jodorowsky cast his youngest son, Adan. (Who previously appeared in "Santa Sangre" as young Fennix.) Playing your own father in the story of his life must be an odd experience but Adan gives a commendable performance. Given the theatrical, dream-like world Jodorowsky's work exist in, Adan still managed to give a very human and grounded performance. His late-in-the-film act as a clown is especially well done. Alejandro's oldest son, Brontis, reprises the role of his grandfather from "The Dance of Reality." His acting continues to be impressively fiery, finding an emotional heart to Jaime's frequently dickish behavior.

As with “The Dance of Reality,” “Endless Poetry” is also a gorgeous looking movie. Christopher Doyle returns as cinematographer. The colors pop fantastically. The camera movements are evocative and expressive. This is most obvious during a parade sequence, where whole crowds of people wear piercing red devil costumes. The set and production design is also fantastic. The two elements work together notably to create wide, impressive vistas even inside interior sets. Such as a fantastic shot, involving a giant chair Alejandro has built for his apartment. 

”Endless Poetry” ends in a way that recalls the ending to “The Dance of Reality.” Supposedly, Jodorowsky intended to film his autobiography as a five film cycle. Which probably explains why the first two films only cover up through his twenties, before he even started making movies. Considering Jodorowsky is in his nineties, it seems unlikely that we'll get the other three installments. (Perhaps one of his kids will pick up where he left off some day.) Though undoubtedly as pretentious and self-aggrandizing as anything else the director has made, “Endless Poetry” is still a gorgeous, moving, and beautifully assembled motion picture. It shows that cult cinema's premier shaman has never lost a step. [Grade: A-]

Director Report Card: Peter Jackson (2018)

15. They Shall Not Grow Old

To casual film fans, it probably seems like Peter Jackson hasn't been doing much recently besides relaxing on his pile of “Lord of the Rings” residuals. While it's certainly easy to conjecture that the experience of making “The Hobbit” trilogy was traumatic for Jackson, he hasn't exactly shied away from film making. Aside from producing big budget films like “Mortal Engines,” Jackson has started creating documentaries. For the one hundredth anniversary of the end of World War I, Jackson was commissioned to make a documentary about the war. Being something of an amateur historian of the Great War himself, owing to his great-grandfather being a veteran, Jackson enthusiastically took on the project.  

"They Shall Not Grow Old" attempts to show World War I as it was experienced, by the young men who fought it. The film focuses specifically on the British soldiers who were deployed. Jackson and his team took hundreds of hours of vintage newsreel footage, film and photographs taken directly at the front. Jackson blew the resolution up, meticulously colorized the footage, and added voices and sound effects. Forgoing traditional narration, Jackson instead utilized archive audio interviews with the veterans describing their unique experiences as they remembered it. 

The film begins in black and white, as it attempts to show life in England at the start of the war. The footage immediately gives you an idea of what life was like a hundred years ago. The men provide a very different perspective of going off to war than you'd expect. The young men were eager to fight. Many lied about their age, some boys as young as 14 pretending to be 19 in order to enlist. Most of the men describe being driven strictly by a sense of duty. They saw it as their jobs to go off and fight the Germans. They talk about the dehumanizing process of boot camp - endless marching, hulling hundred pound kits, eating gruel - with good humor. They all seemed to think they were going off on a grand adventure. 

Any illusions of that were quickly dismissed as soon as they arrived in the trenches. I've always heard about the unsanitary conditions the soldiers faced in World War I but "They Shall Not Grow Old" gives me an intimate idea of what it was like. Men sat on wooden bars, in a row, to defecate. All their clothes, all the men only having one outfit they could wear, were absolutely infested with lice. Dead bodies, rats, and the stink of rot was inescapable. Gangrenous trench foot - horrifying photos of which we see - was common and caused countless amputations. The constant mud and rain resulted in more than one casualty. A harrowing story is related of a man drowning in a mud slide, the other soldiers totally helpless to assist him.

Something else "They Shall Not Grow Old" keenly depicts is how tedious life in the trenches was. Death was a constant spectre, men being randomly sniped or bombs sailing overhead. Yet the men were rarely actively fighting the enemy. Instead, while always worrying about dying, the men had to find ways to pass the time. They munched on meager rations. They drank tea out of gasoline cans. Some of "They Shall Not Grow Old's" most touching footage shows soldiers finding ways to amuse themselves while away from the front. We see them singing, kicking footballs around, wrestling and joking around. One moment shows a man dropping a bottle, quickly grabbing it back up, while pantomiming music. All while men were dying only a few miles away. Life goes on, ya know? 

Death, of course, was unavoidable on the front. "They Shall Not Grow Old" shows graphic photos of dead boys, their weeping head wounds depicted in full color. The men talk about the injuries they saw, men blown to pieces by bombs and shrapnel, eyes dangling, limbs twisted off. The interviews describe this in a matter-of-fact manner, some talking about not even being immediately aware of their injuries. Yet death was not the only thing present at the time. Sometimes mercy was too. One man describes giving a German, whose throat he just slit, a final drink. More than once, a man describes putting a suffering friend out of their misery. 

Jackson managed to find footage or photos of almost everything from the trenches. Cameras, however, were not present when the fighting would overflow from the trenches. In order to illustrate this conflict, Jackson and his team uses drawings and paintings from the period. Once more, it is the words of the men who were there that most explicitly explains these circumstances. And what the men describe is pure chaos. They talk about running forward into combat, not sure why they are fighting or who they are up against. Men were falling all around them and all they could do was focus on what was right in front of them. The combination of sound effects and frenzied editing captures that feeling so clearly. 

Something that made trench warfare so different from the conflicts before and after is that the warring factions rarely saw each other. The interviewees in "They Shall Not Grow Old" discuss the few times they actually interacted with the German soldiers, when enemies were captured or after the end of the war. Most of them observe that the opposing side had no ill feelings against them. That they were mostly just doing the job assigned to them. The film gives a clear idea of what it is like, to be a normal person caught up in a conflict totally out of their control. This is also apparent in the segment about the end of the war - when the film returns to black-and-white - when the men describe the difficulties of getting used to normal civilian life again.

Jackson's decision to recolor and add sound to the archival footage was controversial among the admittedly insular World War I archivist community. Some most have thought that changing anything about the original footage was besmirching the historical document, as it existed. Yet Jackson's film brings the war to life like never before. "They Shall Not Grow Old" really gives you a sense of what it must've been like to be there. When footage of a shotgun bomb - an exploding shell that peppered the ground with bullets - is caught, you're really impressed by how carefully Jackson and his team had to search through the archives to find stuff like that. Only occasionally does the colorization process make the images feel a little uncanny. More often than not, it brings a hundred year old conflict back to life. 

The result is maybe one of the most powerful films about war that I've ever seen. By using only pre-existing documentation, Jackson has really given an impression of what it was like to actually be there. By having the men who lived through this describe their time in the trenches, the filmmakers have created about as honest a depiction of war as I think is possible. I don't think any fictionization could have ever caught the truth better. That the film does this for a conflict that is rarely discussed is especially honorable. "They Shall Not Grow Old" is an utterly engrossing, compelling, moving, and insightful documentary about one of the worst conflicts to ever scar the world. [Grade: A]

Director Report Card: Spike Jonze (2020)

5. Beastie Boys Story

Spike Jonze has always been highly involved with the music world. He’s directed so many music videos over the years that his film directing career really can be considered a side-gig to his music video career. Of his many fruitful collaborations over the years, his relationship with the Beastie Boys is probably his most important. “Sabotage” is, and with good reason, widely considered one of the greatest music videos of all time. The longtime friendship with the band resulted in Jonze co-authoring the "Beastie Boys Book," a definitive history of the group. Last year, the two surviving boys - Michael "Mike D." Diamond and Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz - did a series of live shows as a companion piece to the book, which Jonze also directed. Earlier this year, a filmed version of the final performance of "Beastie Boys Story" would be released to Apple TV, technically making it his first feature film in seven years. 

"Beastie Boys Story" has the influential white boy hip-hop/alternative band - or at least two-thirds of it - recounting the history of the act in their own words. Following the death of Adam "MCA" Yauch in 2014 from cancer, the group officially disbanded. As a homage to their fallen friend, the remaining Boys and Jonze put together a series of live stage shows, of the two sharing memories, stories, images, and videos with a packed audience. "Beastie Boys Story" is edited from several of these shows, with lots of other goodies included. 

A filmed stage show probably doesn't sound like the most cinematic experience. And it's true that "Beastie Boys Story" is mostly composed of Diamond and Horovitz standing on a stage, in front of a large video screen, and talking to an audience. However, given Jonze's involvement and the Boys' rebellious spirit, some fun touches are included. The guys interact with the on-screen clips and animations. A recreation of the band's home-made playback machine is carted out. Jonze himself yells at the stage during several faux technical problems. It's more than just people talking on a stage, at the very least.

What most makes "Beastie Boys Story" worth seeing is the clear brotherhood between these guys. While they recite prepared speeches from teleprompters for most of the show, there are a number of more off-the-cuff moments. When a clip from Ad-Rock's ill-fated attempt at acting is shown, Mike has it played back several times for extra chances at mocking it. More than once, one of the guys will flub a line, leading to joking around and light-hearted mockery. It's obvious these two have been friends most of their lives. Watching that friendship play out is certainly quite entertaining. 

I'll admit, I'm far from a Beastie Boys aficionado. Yeah, I watched and enjoyed the "Sabotage" and "Intergalactic" videos. But I haven't heard anything but the big hits, your "Brass Monkey"s and so forth. So "Beastie Boys Story" was a deep education in the band's history for me. I had no idea that they started out as a hardcore punk band, with a cool girl drummer. The story of how three friends joking around together - one of their earliest songs was a goof track about Carvel Ice Cream's Cookiepuss mascot - slowly became a real group is fascinating. Basically, through an association with the soon-to-be head of Def-Jam Records, and because the Fat Boys weren't available for a key gig, these three jokers became a rap act and ended up rubbing shoulders with the most iconic hip-hop groups and executives of the day. 

There's a lot of good stories from these years. At Rick Rubin's insistence, the trio adopted a tough guy pro-wrestler style persona. Which was not-so-well-received in a black club or when opening for Madonna. Following the surprise success of "Fight for Your Right (To Party)" - Ad-Rock says the video was filmed in a friend's apartment - the ironic adoption of the party guy personas became more sincere. They had giant beer cans and an inflatable dick in a box in their concerts. The guys admit they drank way too much and were high too often. A featured appearance on Soul Train, where all three drunkenly converse with Don Cornelius, is pretty hilarious. 

The stories of rock star excess seem a little more good-natured than most. (The guys acknowledge the impractical side of outrageous fashion and extravagant mansion they briefly ended up with.) Because those party guy personalities were ironic. The band quickly came to resent them, forcing a creative reshuffling for their second album. Watching the Beastie Boys style and sound evolve is pretty interesting, as they embraced an increasingly eccentric mix of genres. Especially amusing is how the guys decided to learn how to actually play instruments. The musical innovations would lead to those iconic, innovative music videos... Which led to MCA pranking the MTV Music Awards when "Sabotage" was snubbed. They would even apologize for some of their sexist, early lyrics. (Ad-Rock is married to noted feminist Kathleen Hanna, by the way.) 

Ultimately, "Beastie Boys Story" is as much a way to reminisce about fallen friends as it is a celebration of the band's journey. Horovitz gets visibly choked up on several occasions, when discussing the last few years they had with the late Adam Yauch. A recollection of the last concert they performed together – of course, they didn't know it was their last concert at the time – is quite touching. They share little anecdotes about their gone friend, about his side-gig as a super in an apartment building or his sudden mastery of the upright bas. It's not the only lost friend they memorialize, as a close partner from their early days also passed away along the journey. As a story about men on the other end of their lives, having lost friends and companions, “Beastie Boys Story” is surprisingly emotional.

”Beastie Boys Story” runs about two hours, which must seem long for this kind of thing. Yet the film doesn't see much discussion about the bands last three albums, cutting the story off with 2000's “Hello Nasty.” Moreover, the film's ending is a bit abrupt. It definitely seems like “Beastie Boys Story” could've run for an hour longer. (Considering Jonze packs the end credits with additional footage, and a few celebrity cameos, there was obviously a surplus of footage left over.) As surprising as it is to say, I might not have minded that. Horovitz and Diamond are compelling presence and they tell their story with feeling, humor, and fondness. Combined with Jonze's energetic guiding hand, I came away from "Beastie Boys Story" with a much deeper appreciation of these three Jewish kids from New York City. I'll have to explore their discography more. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Errol Morris (2018)

13. American Dharma

In 2017, Errol Morris filmed “American Dharma,” one of his trademark interview documentaries with notorious alt-right hellraiser/Trump adviser Steve Bannon. The film received mixed reviews on the festival circuit. While there were some positive notices, others criticized Morris for not interrogating Bannon enough. Yet others were aghast that Morris gave someone like Bannon a “platform” at all. The film was slow to pick up a distributor, perhaps because of this. Or perhaps because, even then, it was a hundred controversies ago in the Trump presidency. By the time the film got a general release late last year, Bannon's name had completely fallen out of the news cycle. And now I'm getting around to covering the movie, as the country is knee deep in the smoking wreckage of the administration Bannon helped bring to life.

Through a long conversation with Bannon, Errol Morris tracks the man’s rise and fall. He discusses his roots as a filmmaker of right-wing political documentaries, how he came to be involved with alt-right propaganda site Breitbart, and how he eventually became the primary architect of Donald Trump's presidential campaign. Bannon reveals the brute force tactics, such as a naked appeal to populism, that navigated Trump through countless controversies to the White House. Through the conversation, Bannon also reveals his frequently contradictory personal philosophies. 

Something compelling about Bannon, that sets him apart from other political pundits, is his open obsession with pop culture. Morris structures "American Dharma" after "Twelve O'Clock High," one of Bannon's favorite films that he uses to explain his belief in destiny and dharma. Throughout the conversation, movies like "The Searchers" and "Bridge on the River Kwai" are discussed. What's really interesting about this is the way Bannon's willful misinterpretation of these classic films reflect on him. He re-contextualizes a key moment from "Chimes at Midnight" to reflect his own expulsion from the Trump White House. (Which also makes Bannon seem like a massive fucking bootlickers who likes that his boss kicked him out.) He reads "Paths of Glory" as a metaphor for the experiences of the "deplorables," an interpretation so off-target it's funny. Bannon is, in fact, a fan of Errol Morris, citing "The Fog of War" as another influence but so completely misunderstood the film that he's surprised its director voted for Hillary Clinton. It's about the level of critical analysis that you'd expect from someone who unironically lists Darth Vader and Satan as his fictional idols. 

Something Morris seems especially interested in exploring is the blatant contradictions in Bannon's philosophies. Or, rather, showing Bannon's disinterest in examining these contradictions. Steve explains his admiration of Andrew Breitbart, describing someone he sees as decisive and not driven by emotion. Morris follows this with footage of Breitbart screaming at Occupy protestors in a totally unhinged fashion. Bannon dismisses the Nazi rallies that sprung up in the aftermath of Trump's election. Morris then shows stories from Bannon's websites, using all sorts of xenophobic and white supremacy-aligned phrases, Bannon goes on at-length about his nationalist, isolationist politics. He decries "the elite" and "globalists." When Morris grills Bannon and why he thought helping a billionaire become president was a blow against "the elite," he rambles out his usual list of buzz words.

So the question emerges: How full of shit is Steve Bannon? Does he even know he's full of shit? Bannon describes the origin story of his nationalist beliefs, of growing up in the spectre of the Vietnam War and seeing "Made in Vietnam" on a crate of school uniforms for his kids. That certainly seems sincere enough. As does his clear hatred of Muslims and foreigners. And his continued use of antisemitic code words like "globalists" and "the elite" makes his opinions on the Jewish people less than ambiguous. It seems to me that extending his philosophy of America First isolationism, and barely coded white supremacy, is Bannon's primary concern. He sees the tax cuts for the rich the mainstream Republican Party, which Bannon repeatedly disparages, insists on as a compromise worth making. 

Then again, greed is always a factor to consider. Bannon describes part of how he came to power. He made part of his fortune by noticing the real life money people were willing to pay for fake money and items in "World of Warcraft." Though expressing ignorance about video games, Bannon is clearly savvy about how to take advantage of new media. He brings up Twitter and Breitbart's comment sections as ways to rally support. 4Chan and Reddit even get brief mentions. "American Dharma" clearly concludes that, in 2016, the Democrats were less able to use the Internet to rally support. 

Bannon knew how to reach out to people with a clear message that resonated. He targeted his isolationist philosophy at disenfranchised Americans, unemployed and scared and susceptible to fears about illegal immigrants and Islamic extremists. (That his policies focused more on excluding brown people than striking back at corporations, the "elites" he's always railing against, is another contradiction Bannon doesn't address.) All throughout the campaign, he never wavered from that approach. When the first of many sex scandals threatened to derail Trump's presidential chances, Bannon doubled down on his techniques. He - proudly - calls it populism. I call it zeroing in on America's racist heart and never letting go. 

Either way, it worked. "American Dharma" succulently depicts how Bannon and the Trump campaign took advantage of America's ugliest and most ingrained beliefs - and a media totally unprepared to counter Trump's attention-grabbing theatrics - to pave their own path to power. Bannon repeatedly refers to it as "going to war," which Morris emphasizes with bullet and bombshell sound effects while pasting new stories and tweets to the screen. This aggressive determination to never drift away from this message, to always play to the bases, strikes me as the most obvious reason Trump secured his narrow victory. This says a lot about America in general but is, in my opinion, the clearest answer of how we got into this mess. And Morris' film depicts that well.

"American Dharma" also represents a change in style for Errol Morris. The director does not utilize his typical interrogation visual approach much this time. The film is not composed of Bannon explaining his story and experiences, with infographic blowback as Morris did with Robert McNamara and Donald Rumsfeld in "The Fog of War" and "The Unknown Known." Instead, it's more of a conversation between Bannon and Morris. Morris, though still kept mostly off-screen, repeatedly inserts himself into the film. He challenges Bannon's actions and worldview, questioning his self-described "apocalyptic" politics. This ties in with Morris' perhaps more showy-than-usual visuals. We have lots of dramatic shots of Bannon wandering around a Quonset hut – inspired by “Twelve O'Clock High” – or even meandering sequences of him walking through a half-completed house. The score, by Paul Leonard-Morgan, is also rather dramatic. 

If "American Dharma" had been made more recently, it could've had a far more cinematic ending. Bannon is currently awaiting trial for fraud involved with a bullshit con to keep building Trump's failed border wall. (Which certainly re-enforces the possibility that Bannon sees right-wing fear-mongering as a way to line his own pockets.) Instead, Morris had to settle for Bannon being ejected from Trump's White House and his weak sauce attempt to spread his venomous philosophies to Europe. Because Morris is so focused on Bannon, he doesn't explore the interplay of fragile male ego and optics that most likely led to Trump kicking Bannon out.

I can see why the movie didn't receive an especially enthusiastic reception. The last four years have been awash in media attempting to figure out how the hell this happened. It's possible nobody was much interested in yet another postmortem of the 2016 election in 2018. Bannon's staunch refusal to explore the inconsistencies in his own beliefs prevents “American Dharma” from having any “gotcha!” moments. Yet as an examination of how Bannon, and people like him, can drum up support and control the media narrative, it's valuable. Because Trump was bad and the next Trump will be worst. “American Dharma” is worth seeing for that reason alone. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Frank Henenlotter (2018)

 

9. Boiled Angels: The Trial of Mike Diana

Frank Henenlotter continues to be one of those cult filmmakers that, just when you think he’s never making another movie, comes back with a surprise. Following the release of his two documentaries, "The Godfather of Gore" and "That's Sexploitation!," he re-teamed with Anthony Sneed, his "Bad Biology" leading man, to create the indie comedy "Chasing Banksy." The film has played multiple festivals but has yet to receive a general release. During production, Sneed would introduce Henenlotter to artist Mike Diana. Diana is the only American visual artist to ever be convicted for obscenity, a topic Henenlotter and Sneed deemed worthy of a documentary. Following a successful crowdfunding campaign in 2017, "Boiled Angels: The Trial of Mike Diana" would win positive reviews and awards on the festival circuit. Earlier this year, the film was released in Amazon Prime, making it available to all cult movie devotees.

Mike Diana is a creator of underground comix style zines from Southern Florida. His whole life, Diana has been interested in "ugly" artwork. During the late eighties, while still a teenager, Diana began to draw comic strips full of sexual violence, pedophilia, extreme gore, and other shocking subject matter. He would distribute his work in self-published zines with titles like "Angelfuck" and "Boiled Angels." In 1991, while investigating the Gainesville Florida serial killer case, the local police became aware of Diana's work. Though absolutely cleared of any connection to the murders, the state would go on to prosecute Diana for obscenity. In 1994, he was convicted. Henenlotter's film documents Diana's life, his art, the trial, and the aftermath. 

The most immediately striking thing about "Boiled Angels" is the contrast between Diana's work and the man himself. His comics, the most shocking of which are displayed in the film, are full of every grotesque cruelty you can imagine. Diana, meanwhile, seems to be a painfully shy person. He speaks in a soft, almost monotone voice. He's opposed to all violence and even refuses to swat a mosquito in one scene. His tall, pale visage is totally unassuming. Most of his interviews take place among his personal collection of horror VHS tapes or Hot Stuff the Little Devil toys. He seems like a withdrawn, quiet guy, which immediately challenges any assumptions you might make about the kind of people who make this kind of art.

The exact motivation behind Diana's art is hard to say. Even as a hardened horror nerd, who has certainly consumed plenty of "shock" comedy over the years, I found Diana's work pretty upsetting. He seems obsessed with child abuse, rape, castration, mutilation, and cannibalism. His comics are also cartoonish, even amateuristic. Like most comix artist, one assumes that the outrageous content of Diana's work is meant to shock people out of complacency. That it perverts traditional American institutions in the name of satire, that there's a degree of absurdist humor to these extreme images. Moreover, much of Diana's work seems to be motivated by a sense of injustice. He describes how profoundly disturbed he was by the Catholic pedo scandals and the racism he witnessed firsthand in Florida. More than once, he describes his work as a way to "vent his anger." And the betrayal of trust between authority figures and children is definitely something to be very angry about. 

When confronted by such extreme images, one can't help but draw certain conclusions about the creator. Diana's trial attracted considerable local media attention. Most of the protestors were not there to protest the obvious violation of Mike's free speech but rather to show disgust at his work. Among the pearl-clutchers was a highly religious woman determined to save Diana's soul from damnation. Henenlotter managed to track her down for an interview and she still seems convinced that Diana's extreme work arose out of an abusive childhood, that he himself was a victim of molestation. I'll admit, I had the same first reaction too. The artist denies this and, while he sometimes describes his father as a harsh disciplinarian, he seems to have a healthy relationship with his family. "Boiled Angels" forces us to challenge our own assumptions, about where extreme art comes from and the mind behind them.

Regardless of how Diana's work makes you feel, whether it grosses you out or makes you laugh, it obviously wasn't a crime for him to create and publish it. Henenlotter clearly shares the opinion of the outraged free speech activists and Comic Book Legal Defense Fund insiders he interviews. If you're interested in filmmakers like Henenlotter or cartoonist like Diana, you probably agree too. "Boiled Angel" is valuable not for preaching to the choir but for providing context for what happened. The lawyers at Diana's trial repeatedly attempted to forge a link between his work and the Gainsville murders, even though the actual killer had confessed long before the trial happened. The judge refused to allow Diana's defense to provide context, by showing equally outrageous comix from thirty years earlier. The film compiles plenty of handheld footage of the outraged church ladies at the trial. The sense of vague moral outrage coursing through the country at the time was also apparent in the conviction of the West Memphis Three and the still on-going Satanic Panic. Diana was another victim of the moralistic snap-back of the Reagan/Bush I era. 

In fact, Henenlotter probably should have spent a little more time establishing the mood of the era and location than on describing the history of comic book censorship. “Boiled Angels” features interviews with comic book historians about the moral panic around horror and crime comics in the fifties, the rise of the Comic Code Authority, and the birth of underground comix in the ensuing decade. Anybody interested in comic book history - which most likely means the majority of people watching this documentary - already know all about this stuff. Only a tidbit about an earlier attempt in Canada to persecute an underground comic artist for obscenity, which seems to foreshadow a lot of what happened to Mike, seems especially relevant. (Though it is nice that Henenlotter got an interview with George Romero, who talks about the influence E.C. Comics had on him. The film is dedicated to his memory.)

If you're making a movie about a visual artist, you have to find a way to show that art. Henenlotter's solution is to put close-ups of Diana's comics on-screen, accompanied by (frequently rather stilted) voice acting that is often provided by Mike himself. This is how we see such disturbing tales as "Baby Fuck Dog Food" and "Grasshopper Boy," both of which revolve around child abuse. The former is the kind of sick joke that is so sick, the humor is lost. The latter is a viscerally distressing tale of mutilation and transformation. Aside from how the comic's make you feel, Henenlotter does a good job of conveying the homemade, punk rock energy that clearly drives Diana's work. This is further in the film through its rowdy soundtrack, the colorful scene transitions, and Jello Biafra providing much of the narration.

More than their shared interest in extreme interest and mutual history of being censored, I think something else attracted Frank Henenlotter to Mike Diana. In the course of the documentary, we discover that, as a young boy and before he started focusing on comics, Mike used to make Super-8 horror movies. We get several peeks at these home-made gore movies, where we see ten-year-old Mike Diana chop up his brother with a lawnmower or give his teenage sister a wire hanger abortion. (His siblings recall these home movies with bemused nostalgia.) The crude home-made gore and outrageous subject matter recalls Herschell Gordon Lewis and the other junk filmmakers Henenlotter admires. No wonder these two got along. 

Ultimately, "Boiled Angels" is a pretty interesting little documentary. It's still easy to feel pissed-off at the way the Florida courts railroaded Diana and the ridiculous conditions of his probation. (Which attempted to essentially keep him from making more art.) The rise of the internet might keep people from ever being offended by images like Mike's ever again but you can see the same moral outrage machinations in shit like PizzaGate and QAnon. Of course, the court case made Diana far more famous than he ever would've been otherwise, giving this story a happy ending. While I'm still not sure if I like Diana's comics - ya know, assuming "like" is even the right word - I'm pretty sure I like the man himself. [Grade: B] 

Director Report Card: Lucky McKee (2019)

8. Kindred Spirits

Sometimes, I feel like I'm the biggest Lucky McKee fan in the world. I'm sure that's not true, that some obsessive person outstrips my fandom for the filmmaker. McKee has been making films for almost two decades, some of them accumulating cult followings along the way. Nobody gets labeled a “Master of Horror” without accruing a certain level of fame. At the same time, McKee is not a household name even among movie nerds or horror fanboys. His latest film, “Kindred Spirits” was released last year with almost zero advertising. To the point that the director himself put out an open invitation on Twitter for any sort of press. Which is how I ended up (very nervously) interviewing McKee earlier in the year on this very humble blog of mine. And now the time has come for me to actually give “Kindred Spirits” a proper review. 

Chloe had her daughter, Nicole, when she was only sixteen. Which means that her sister, Sadie, is only a few years older than her niece. When Nicole was a little girl, Aunt Sadie saved her life by pulling her out of traffic. Years later, Chloe is a struggling single mom and Nicole is a troubled teenager. After Nicole gets expelled from school, she comes home to see that Sadie has suddenly moved in. The aunt and niece renew their bond quickly. However, Sadie soon begins to act strangely. She pretends to be a teenager. She learns secrets, such as Chloe dating the father of Nicole's best friend, and manipulates those around with this information. Eventually, someone is going to die.

Almost all of Lucky McKee's movies are about outsiders, struggling to find their place in the world or some pre-existing social structure. “Kindred Spirits” applies the same idea to the premise of a fractured family. We never learn much about Chloe and Sadie's parents or their childhood but it soon becomes apparent that Sadie never felt accepted anywhere but with her sister. She created a fantasy world, via a doll house, acting out her fantasies with a fictional family. (Not dissimilar to May's elaborate, doll-filled inner life.) She returns home because her personal life, we learn in vague terms, has fallen apart. Yet Sadie soon finds her perfect fantasy world, with her sister and niece, ruined by a changing situation. “Kindred Spirits” takes us inside the world of someone so broken, they can't even return home peacefully.

Home isn't the only place Sadie is eager to return to. In one key sequence, she complains to her sister that she feels old because she's in her twenty. At a party with Sadie, she pretends to be a teenager and even makes out with a younger boy. After she patterns her hair after Nicole's, Sadie even begins to seduce her niece's hunky-dumb boyfriend. It's apparent that Sadie is feeling her youth slip away. You get the impression that Sadie's teen years probably weren't great. She's eager to return to that time, to get a re-do on a fraught period of her life. This is an impulse I think most of us can relate to, wanting a chance to return to our younger days with the knowledge we have now. Sadie, of course, takes things too far.

One of the best moves “Kindred Spirits” makes is slowly revealing exactly how crazy Sadie is. At first, she seems simply eccentric, perhaps a bit manic. As her lies and fantasies start to pile up, it's becomes apparent how disconnected Sadie is from reality. The film peppers in vague allusions to her past, never making it totally clear, leaving us unprepared for what's to come. She crosses boundaries with ease, assuming another persona with ease. It's an unsettling to watch, especially once Sadie starts to put herself and others in danger. A moment involving a kitchen counter is especially effective. “Kindred Spirits” does a good job of drawing the audience in and continuously surprising us with each new, unhinged reveal.

“Kindred Spirits” isn't just a “Single White Female”-style story of a lonely psychopath lashing out when her world starts to crumble. Watching Sadie degrade into a killer, hurting the people she ostensibly loves, is engrossing because time is invested in making the characters real. "Kindred Spirits" is especially good at creating a lived-in, lovable sort of feminine bonding. When Sadie is having a bad day, Chloe's anecdote for the blues is junk food and junk television. We are greeted to an adorable scene of the sisters reclining on the couch and watching trashy reality shows. When Sadie and Nicole hang out, we are treated to similarly adorable moments of them bonding. McKee and co-writer Chris Sivertson successfully capture a very specific, and specifically feminine, type of togetherness.

Even though “Kindred Spirits” belongs soundly to the “thriller” side of the horror/thriller equation, Lucky McKee is still a Fangoria fan at heart. He knows when and how to deliver the gross-outs. And “Kindred Spirits” contains a good one. The film doesn't stop with a shovel smashed over someone's head. The metaphor of Sadie's perfect fantasy world being crushed becomes rather literal, as someone goes head first into the dollhouse. McKee doesn't stop there, as he follows that up with debris being picked out of a brain. It's pretty sick, continuing the filmmaker's talent for squirm-inducing gore effects. McKee has always been good at creating novel violence, finding ways to make the internal external in inventively graphic ways.

McKee hasn't just always shown a knack for creating good stories for women. He's also always found strong female performers. Caitlin Stasey, previously of “All Cheerleaders Die,” is excellent as Sadie. While not doing a great job of disguising her Australian accent, Stasey manages to make a complex, nuanced character. Sadie isn't a two-dimensional psychopath. She's someone with a sad inner-life, driven to do crimes out of loneliness and a need to belong. She also projects a certain vulnerability, making it clear why she can lure people into an assailable state. Sasha Frolova is similarly good as Nicole. Nichole is struggling with typical teenage problems, testing boundaries with her mother and other authority figures. Frolova has a natural charisma that attracts the viewer's eye, making you want to follow her and her character on this journey.

The only marquee name in “Kindred Spirits” is Thora Birch, as Chloe. Birch, who certainly has first-hand experience with messed-up families, plays Chloe as a single mom struggling to make ends' meet. Her daughter's trouble distresses her greatly, as much because she fears her child is drifting away from her as for her problems at school. Birch is convincing and likable, making Chloe fully-formed even if she probably has the least interesting role in the film. Macon Blair, best known for appearing in Jeremy Saulnier's films, also shows up as Chloe's boyfriend. Blair is amusingly avuncular, as a normal guy who doesn't realize the trouble he's getting into until it's much too late.

Throughout his career, Lucky McKee has maintained certain visual quirks. Such as a strong use of color. This continues in “Kindred Spirits.” In one particularly note-worthy moment, red lights shine through a predominately blue colored room. In general, “Kindred Spirits” is a nice looking movie. Largely shot on interior sets, McKee creates a real intimate feeling throughout most of the film. I've always found McKee's movies to have a lush feeling, creating something beautiful out of every day settings. The film also has a lovely and evocative score from Joe Kraemer, which adds a wonderfully personal feeling to much of the story.

Other times, however, “Kindred Spirits” feels exactly like the low-budget production it is. More than once, the movie employs disappointing visual tricks. Like slow-motion addled montages, which occur several times. This is really noticeable in several flashback sequences, which have that cliched flashback style glow to them. While McKee makes excellent use of color in some scenes, other sequences look somewhat washed-out and plain. The film's various flaws become truly apparent in the last act, where the climax is somewhat visually muddled and even includes some awkward editing around a throat slicing.

On the festival circuits, more than one reviewer compared “Kindred Spirits” to a Lifetime Movie. I can't say I watch a lot of Lifetime Channel movies but I think I understand what they mean. The film features many scenes of relationship melodrama, especially once Sadie starts to play Nicole and her friends against each other by reviewing secrets. Teen girls and adult women getting upset because private business is being aired seems to fit the stereotype of “women's television.” (I don't think most Lifetime movies, however, feature heads getting smashed open. But I could be wrong!) 

Perhaps fittingly enough, “Kindred Spirits” actually would make its debut on the Lifetime Channel, with a surprise premiere during last October. This was a surprise even to Lucky, who was not made aware of the television screening until a few hours before it happened. “Kindred Spirits'” proper debut would happen on video-on-demand a few months later. Considering the film's release would receive almost no advertising, the showing on Lifetime probably exposed the movie to a far wider audience than it otherwise might've received. (Though I do have to wonder what that network's regular viewers thought of this one.) If “Kindred Spirits” attracts the same cult following as McKee's earlier films, I don't know. However, I suspect it will. It's a nicely acted and amusingly twisted riff on the themes McKee has been working with his entire career. [Grade: B+]

Director Report Card: Tamara Jenkins (2018)

3. Private Life

Netflix has, for better or worse, delivered the future of cinema. The streaming giant changed the way we watch movies and, depending on where the pieces fall after the pandemic is over, might be the primary way we watch them in the future. As movie studios decide they’d rather make a billion dollars with one 200-million-dollar movie, instead of making 200 million with ten three-million-dollar movies, the mid-tier studio drama is practically extinct. Seeing a market in need of exploiting - or just hoping to win themselves some Oscar prestige - Netflix has thrown money at a few auteurs. At least this is how I assume Tamara Jenkins' third film. "Private Life," ended up being a Netflix original. 

Richard and Rachel are trying to have a baby. Richard and Rachel have been trying to have a baby for years now. Their latest attempt involves expensive fertility drugs, which does little to help, while also working on adoption. At the same time, Richard's niece Sadie is having troubles with her mom. After dropping out of school, Sadie ends up living with her uncle and aunt. The couple touch upon the idea to have Sadie be their egg donor. (Which would raise their chances of success from 4 to 60 percent.) Everyone, with the exception of Sadie's parents, likes the idea... But things will not go as smoothly as the couple hopes. 

"Private Life" is another Tamara Jenkins film, essentially, about adults having a mid-life crisis. Rachel and Richard have become obsessed with the idea of having a baby. Their sex life is suffering. Their relationship is strained, as every waking moment is fixated on this goal. Both are suffering from the constant messages that something is wrong with their bodies, something is wrong with them. As they both vocalize throughout the film, they feel like there is something they have to do and time is very quickly running out. This mirror Sadie's quarter-life crisis, as she struggles to forge her own identity and figure out how to navigate the world. All the central characters are gripped by this idea that they have to desperately get their shit together before it's too late.

Yet, as the two try to become literal parents, they come closer than either realize to being symbolic parents. Sadie's actual mother wants to micro-manage her life. Rachel and Richard, meanwhile, offer her relative freedom to figure things out on her own. The loving bond they form is obviously parental. There's some definite dramatic irony in the story of a couple trying to become actual parents, ending up as round-about parents anyway. This isn't the only twist on parenthood that "Private Life" offers, as all of its main characters are creative types also trying to birth successful fiction. It's a film acutely concerned with the act of creating and becoming.

It's also pretty funny, in the slice-of-life, neurotic way that characterized Jenkins' other movies. Richard and Rachel's quest to become parents puts them in many awkward situations. Such as Richard, sitting in the clinic's room devoted to procuring a sperm sample, being increasingly underwhelmed with the selection of pornography. Or Rachel's doctor, as he prepares to take an egg sample, deciding to flick on some prog-rock. The journey to find a donor brings up a lot of insecurities, Rachel triggering several very personal arguments in very public places. (This seems to be a reoccurring feature of Jenkins' films.) Ultimately, the funniest moment in the film occurs when Sadie announces her donor status around the Thanksgiving table. An argument, involving the furious slicing of a turkey, goes on in the other room while another family member attempts a solemn speech about his sobriety. 

Yet, as funny as "Private Life," it's also a deeply sad movie. Like all of Jenkins' films, the movie is frequently episodic. (Which also causes me to suspect, like her last two movies, there's a degree of autobiographical elements here as well.) As in real life, the film's funny episodes often co-exist alongside its sad ones. One of the most affecting moments concerns a girl Rachel and Richard previously chose as their adoption donor. The two forged a loving bond before the girl disappeared, cutting off all contact with them. Jenkins depicts this crushing disappointment as intimately depicted flashbacks, as Paul Giamatti calmly delivers a quietly sad monologue about the events. 

Something else linking "Private Life" and "The Savages" is the way both films pay attention to the passing of the seasons. A key, early scene takes place around Halloween. The crisp autumn air is so keenly established, adding greatly to the movie's particular atmosphere. This also makes room for Thanksgiving, that most anxious of all late-in-the-year traditions. Which Jenkins capitalizes on with increased familial tension. The film carries through to winter and Christmas, adding extra seasonal flavoring to the proceedings. To show that Jenkins really gets it, she circles back around to Halloween for the movie's final moments. I like that. 

“Private Life” is largely built around a trio of wonderful performances. Katherine Hahn stars as Rachel. Rachel is, considering the pressure she's under and the role hormones plays in her life, prone to emotional outbursts. Her arguments with her husband tend to be very intense indeed. Yet Hahn never plays the character as a caricature, a screaming emotional woman. Instead, Rachel is deeply wounded by imperfections largely perceived by her. More than anyone else, she feels like time is running out for her, for her chance to self-realize as a fully formed adult. Hahn shows all these complexities with humor and depth.

Starring opposite Hahn is Paul Giamatti as Richard. Giamatti is playing very much to type here. Richard is neurotic and prone to grousing. He's sexual in a very nerdy way, often wearing his desires out in an unseemly manner. Yet he's also got a big heart, watching out for his wife as they struggle through this difficult time. The character is also more relaxed in his own skin than Rachel, enough that you can believable his niece would consider him the “cool” uncle. Giamatti, of course, is extremely good at mixing together a character's unlikable qualities with an off-beat sense of humor. He provides most of the movie's laughs as well as much of its big heart.

The third performance that makes “Private Life” special is Kayli Carter as Sadie. A relative newcomer, Carter embodies the character's impulsive soul. Sadie sometimes says obnoxious things, just speaking her young mind, not relaxing she's being clueless or insulting. Carter makes sure Sadie is never unlikable for saying these things, that this is simply who she is. As Sadie makes mistakes of her own, Carter can't help but engineer sympathy. The film also includes a stand-out performance from Molly Shannon, as Richard's frequently frustrated sister-in-law, another woman who is just doing what she thinks is best, even if her emotions are a little out-of-control.

“Private Life” also represents a natural evolution of the visual motifs that Jenkins introduced in “The Savages.” Jenkins employs an almost documentary-like immediacy in many of the scenes. In one moment, Rachel stumbles into a desk while walking across a room, which feels so spontaneous I'm half-convinced it was unplanned. The director often employs a handheld style, further cementing this sense of grounded reality. This is especially apparent in several self-contained moment, which seem to capture memories as they are being formed. “Private Life,” rather fittingly, looks and feels like real life.

If "Private Life" has a serious flaw, it's one you could level at "The Savages" and a lot of other prestige indie dramas. This is very much a movie about Rich White People in NYC. Rachel and Richard are not obscenely well-to-do, as it's repeatedly noted that they live in a low-class area. Yet, for struggling creative types, paying the bills never seems to be a problem. They drop a lot of money on expensive medical treatments, the film only briefly acknowledging how this affects their financial life. Sadie is essentially going towards a bohemian life-style. Yet she, nor her aunt or uncle, ever fear that the girl is going to end up homeless. "Private Life" isn't about economic concerns, so it's fine that this is not the focus. Yet it did occasionally take me out of the movie, thinking about how these characters live in a totally different world than mine.

"Private Life" being a Netflix exclusive ended up being a double-edged sword. The platform certainly gave the movie far more exposure than it otherwise would have had. If the number of "For Your Consideration" poster I've seen online are any indication, the company also launched a pricey award season campaign for the film. At the same time, Netflix has a bad habit of bloating their service with content that they do not promote. Subsequently, "Private Life" would be under seen and built little award season buzz, garnering only a couple of nominations. I didn't even know the movie existed before I started to research Jenkins' films. It's a shame, as "Private Life" is a funny and touching dramedy. [Grade: B+]

Tamara Jenkins has made three movies in twenty years. In some ways, I think we're lucky to have the films from her we do. I don't know if Jenkins works at such a slow pace because it's hard for her to procure funding for her projects. I don't know if she only makes a film once a decade because that's just how her creative flow works. Either way, I'm happy that the forces have aligned the times they have for Ms. Jenkins. Her trio of motion pictures are all delightful, nuanced, and wonderfully assembled. I don't know when – or even if – we'll see another movie from her. Yet I certainly hope it comes together. I enjoy the peeks inside her world.