OSCARS 2022: Parallel Mothers (2021)

Once again, it is time for me to admit my ignorance of Pedro Almodovar. The critically acclaimed Spanish director has made 22 films and I’ve seen a mere two before, “The Skin I Live In” and “Pain & Glory.” It’s just one of those cinematic blind spots for me but I should fix that. Mainly because Almodovar is clearly considered an important, respected filmmaker by many people. Especially by the Academy, which has nominated five of his films over the last two decades and gave him a Best Original Screenplay statue for 2000’s “Talk to Her.” The latest of his films is “Parallel Mothers.” It has been equally well received and earned two nominations in this year, in the Best Actress and Best Original Score categories.

Two lives intersect in a hospital delivery room. Janis Martinez is a fashion photographer who has become pregnant following a casual affair with a married archaeologist. Ana is a teenage girl, daughter of an aspiring actress, and pregnant following a sexual assault. Janis reassures Ana as they go into labor at the same time. Shortly after taking her new daughter home, Janis begins to suspect that her child may not be her own. She soon learns that her and Ana's infants were switched at the hospital. By chance, she meets the younger mother again, inviting her to work as her nanny and maid. The two soon become entangled in a complex relationship, more secrets and tragedies revealed soon enough. 

For most of its run time, “Parallel Mothers” operates as a quietly compelling thriller about people with competing needs. Janis wants to have a child on her own terms and is more than confident in her skills as a single mother. When the child's father starts making demands of her, she cuts him out of her life. When Ana enters the picture, things grow more complicated. The two fall into a lusty romance, Ana quickly making it clear that she wants more than just a fling. Of course, there's the matter of the children, Janis' Cecilia belonging to two women who both have a claim to the child. This theme even extends to the supporting cast, as Ana's mother has pursued her dream of becoming an actress even when it's mean sacrificing caring for her daughter. “Parallel Mothers” draws you in as you wonder how these various plot threads will play out, which of these desires will win out over the others.

There's tragedy throughout these challenges too. Eventually, it comes to life that Ana's child – who is actually Janis' daughter – died of SIDS. The way the characters react to this, dealing with a horribly sad personal tragedy that Janis can't entirely address around Ana, is enticing to consider. Yet historical atrocities loom over personal ones in “Parallel Mothers.” Janis contacts the archaeologist because her great-grandparents were killed during the Spanish Civil War and buried in a mass grave. After the plotline involving Janis and Ana's child is seemingly resolved, “Parallel Mothers” turns its focus entirely to the story thread involving this piece of Spanish history. Maybe those with more familiarity with Spanish history than me could dig deeper into the meaning behind this turn-of-events. To me, it seems like “Parallel Mothers” swerves randomly in its last twenty minutes, shifting gears to another topic totally and abandoning its original premise in the process. 

Even if “Parallel Mothers'” goals seem a little muddled at times, the film still has two compelling lead performances. The nominated Penelope Cruz goes through the entire emotional spectrum as Janis. The joy she feels at having her baby is fulfilling. When she learns the truth, that her child was switched, Cruz says so much with just her face. As the situation with Ana grows more complex, Cruz continues to express a lot in the most subtle way possible. If Janis keeps her emotions close to her chest, Milena Smit's Ana is a raw nerve. She's a young girl who is going through a lot, crying and yelling her emotions as they occur to her. Watching these two play off each other is what makes the middle portion of “Parallel Mothers” so compelling. 

Almodovar directs with a quietly stylish hand. The film is mostly set in the interiors of apartments and studios and often utilizes soft fades to black, creating an intimate and personal mood. Cruz' performance and a script that draws you in and keeps you guessing are the main attributes to “Parallel Mothers.” It's melodramatic and sensual but never lurid. That it wanders off several times on topics barely related to the rest of the movie is frustrating though. By the way, I hope you don't mind that I included the controversial nipple poster to the left, which has a pretty clever design. [7/10]

OSCARS 2022: Coming 2 America (2021)

For a brief, shining moment, Eddie Murphy was the biggest movie star in the world. But no longer. Ego and laziness set in quickly and he occupied himself too often with paycheck movies and unfortunate musical side projects. By the end of the 2000s, it seemed Murphy was mostly starring in really dire family films and doing shit like following up an Academy Award nomination with his worst movie ever. The former superstar has been attempting to rehabilitate his image lately by returning to stand-up and sequelizing his most beloved films. Alongside a seemingly sincere attempt to wrench “Beverly Hills Cop 4” out of Development Hell is “Coming 2 America.” The sequel to Eddie’s kindest eighties hit was made without John Landis — "Dolemite Is My Name's" Craig Brewer is in the director's chair — or Rick Baker but still managed to score a Best Makeup Oscar nomination. 

33 years have passed since Prince Akeem Joffer of prosperous African nation Zamunda ventured to Queens to find himself a bride. Since then, his wife Lisa has gifted him with three daughters. With the death of Akeem's father, he becomes king... And is increasingly threatened by the military dictator of neighboring nation Nexdoria. It is Zamundan law that only a man can inherit the throne. Akeem's search for a male heir brings him back to Queens, where he discovers Lavelle, his son from a forgotten tryst he had just before meeting Lisa. Lavelle travels to Zamunda, undergoing trials to become a prince and being asked by the father he barely knows to choose between love and royal duty. 

"Coming 2 America" is an example of what the latest "Scream" would dub a "requel," in that it operates as both a nostalgic throwback to a beloved classic and a loose remake/reboot of it. Brewer's film makes sure to bring back as many characters from the original as possible, up to and including the Babar the elephant. Mostly, its plot functions as a reversal of the original's story. Instead of being about a pampered African prince on the streets of Queens, it's about a streetwise NYC hustler growing accustomed to life in Zamunda. Eventually, Lavelle is in a similar situation to what his father experienced in 1988. His dad wants him to marry the princess of Nexdoria for political reasons. Lavelle, who has developed feelings for his royal hairdresser, wants to marry for love. When you realize, early on, that a comedy sequel is just doing a slightly tweaked version of the original, it's hard to get too invested. 

Still, "Coming 2 America" does retain a little bit of what made the original probably my favorite Eddie Murphy movie. That would be its sweetness. When the plot synopsis for the sequel first came out, I thought the idea of Akeem having an one-night-stand while in Queens seemed pretty out-of-character. I guess the screenwriters agreed and cooked up a pretty good work around. Turns out, Akeem was unknowingly high at the time and didn't exactly realize what was happening. Questionable use of consent aside, Murphy still has a grasp on his kindest character. Akeem wants what is best for Lavelle and reevaluates his attitude when he realizes he's acting just like his old man. Bringing Shari Headley back as Lisa was a wise decision and the chemistry she shares with Murphy keeps the movie afloat at times. Lavelle's relationship with his own love, Mirembe the royal groomer, is that well developed. But it is nice that the film takes the romantic subplot seriously and Jermaine Fowler strikes the right balance in the part. 

Most of the laughs in "Coming 2 America" occurs early on. The absurd opulence of life in Zamunda's royal palace is nicely played up during King Joffer's extravagant funeral, with a few amusing celebrity cameos thrown in. McDowell's becoming the national fast food chain of Zamunda, with corresponding reappearances from John Amos and Louie Anderson, pays off in a couple of funny ways. Leslie Jones and Tracy Morgan get some laughs as Lavelle's mother and uncle, who naturally react to royal life in off-beat ways. Sadly, the sequel eventually seems content to just repeat gags from the original. The infamous royal bathers bit is revisited and revised, as is an overly literal and subservient princess. There's another sparring scene with Arsenio Hall, who does have a few funny lines. Hall and Murphy reprise all their roles from the original, such as the horny preacher, the mouthy barber, and the old Jewish guy. (These characters have to be in their 90s by this point.) By the time Sexual Chocolate shows up, this tactic has officially begun to feel desperate. I mean, they even bring back the rapping twins from the night club scene. Did anybody miss them?

The jokes "Coming 2 America" cooks up that aren't just copied from the original usually aren't very inspiring. A scene where Lavelle uses cat food to outsmart a gassy, CGI lion feels lifeless. Wesley Snipes is decent as Nexdoria's leader, and there's a few fun sight gags around him, but his subplot ends in an excessively wacky way. While the image of black people in such a place of fantastical power still needs to be seen, "Coming 2 America" has a few too many scenes of basking in awe at Zamunda's glory. By the third dance number, it starts feel like the sequel is deliberately chasing "Black Panther's" Wakanda. If the sequel really wanted to be worthy of the original, it should've invested more time in Akeem's relationship with his daughters, who are largely a side note. While not bad, "Coming 2 America" mostly feels like an unnecessary attempt to cash-in on the nostalgia people have for the original. It's briefly amusing but is destined to be forgotten. [6/10]

OSCARS 2022: The Lost Daughter (2021)

When a famous star makes a leap from acting to directing, you're never entirely sure what to expect. Sometimes such a switch results in a celebrity directing their own vanity project. Sometimes it's a talented performer trying out something they've always been curious about. Occasionally, it becomes a second career for them. Beloved character actress Maggie Gyllenhaal has producer credits on a few films, making the shift to directing seem like a natural choice. While there's no way to know for sure right now, the critical acclaim that has met “The Lost Daughter” seems to suggest she may have as rich a career behind the camera as she has had in front of it. It's not too often a director's first movie receives three Oscar nominations, after all.

Based off the novel by Elena Ferrante, the film follows Leda, a middle-age professor of Italian literature who is vacationing in Greece. While sitting on a crowded beach, Leda meets Nina, a woman with a three-year old daughter vacationing with her obnoxious family. The little girl goes missing and Leda finds her, causing a strange friendship to form between the women. Leda sees a lot of herself in Nina, especially in her tense relationship with her little daughter. This causes Leda to reflect on the time she abandoned her two daughters when they were young, to begin a five year long affair with a work colleague. As the past seems to repeat itself, Leda's obsession with the younger woman increases.

“The Lost Daughter” is an incredibly uncomfortable film-going experience. Most of the movie is devoted to Olivia Colman – absolutely committed to playing this deeply unhappy person – having the worst vacation of her life. Her quiet day on the beach is interrupted by a loud family showing up, later demanding she moves. Her hotel is right next to a noisy foghorn that shines its light into her window. The complimentary fruit in a basket in the room rots. She awkwardly attempts to hit on Ed Harris, who seems to pity her. She gets insulted by teenagers and has a giant pinecone fall on her back. This intense discomfort peaks during a miserable experience at a movie theater. A group of rowdy teenagers disrupt the screening and, after she publicly chastise the kids, they humiliate her. It seems the universe delights in making this woman miserable and the film is here to document that.

I wish there was more of a sense of purpose of putting Leda through the social awkwardness wringer like this. At times, it feels like “The Lost Daughter” is going to graduate into a full blown thriller. Leda slowly grows obsessed with Nina. She follows her and discovers she's having an affair with a man younger than her husband. She steals the little girl's favorite doll, causing Nina's daughter to cry nonstop. Instead of this plot thread building to an intense confrontation, it dissolves into merely another unpleasant exchange. None of the other subplots amount to much. “The Lost Daughter” just meanders around in this deeply unpleasant headspace, never providing catharsis or climax to Leda's misery. I guess we're just meant to be dragged along with her as she has the Vacation from Hell. 

If there's a point to “The Lost Daughter's” barrage of anxiety and depression, I guess it's that being a mother really sucks sometimes. Leda would probably think she deserves every bad thing that happens to her. She describes herself as a bad person several times. It's clear she feels massive amounts of guilt for walking out of her children's life for several years. In the somewhat disjointed flashbacks, where Leda is played by a capable Jessie Buckley, we see her daughters making her miserable. They constantly stress her out, even hitting her a few times. She can't get any work done or have even a moment of peace without her kids screaming for something. “The Lost Daughter” is probably at its most potent when exploring an uncomfortable truth: Being a parent is really hard! Not everyone is cut out for it. Unavoidably, you are going to hate your kids sometimes. Leda seems to have a relationship with her kids now but the break she took from being their mom is something she'll never forgive herself for.

She didn't just give up on motherhood for several years because her kids were absolutely driving her up the walls. She also did it because she was horny. Leda's sex drive is explored all throughout “The Lost Daughter's” flashback sequences. She plied her husband with graphic dirty talk but it still wasn't enough to satisfy her or even keep him hard. She's unable to masturbate without the kids interrupting. When she begins her whirlwind affair with Peter Sarsgaard (Gyllenhaal's real life husband, so read into that what you will), he makes her feel desired and free. She ignores her daughters to share a steamy phone call with him. Yet the guilt from pursuing the affair ruined her life. When she sees Nina making the same mistake, she tries to convince her not to do it in the most backwards way possible. It all seems to imply that women can choose a fulfilling sex life or a healthy relationship with their children, which I'm betting is an experience some mothers really do have.

Ultimately, I think I understand what “The Lost Daughter” intends to do. The protracted nervous breakdown it showcases is very intentionally not fun to experience. Gyllenhaal's direction is determined to capture this seasick mood of self-hatred and suffering, which she does quite successfully. Yet, at the end of the movie, I couldn't help but feel like it never picked up stream or went much of anywhere. Movies like “We Need to Talk About Kevin” or “The Babadook” also put us in the heads of conflicted, miserable mothers while making more of a concrete point about their chosen topics. Maybe I'm just too much of a guy to get this one. There's lots to admire about “The Lost Daughter” but it frequently feels like a long digression in search of a sturdier plot and pacing. [5/10]

OSCARS 2022: Free Guy (2021)

What do you think of Ryan Reynolds? I can still remember when he was just the guy from “Van Wilder.” When his strong performances in quirky indies like “Buried” or “The Voices” proved that he could be more than just a hunky, obnoxious smart-ass. He won me over to such a degree that I even enjoy the “Deadpool” movies, which I find strike a winning balance between smarm, sweetness, and over-the-top violence. A lot of people never reached the “won over” stage though, because Reynolds has a vocal hatedom online. I certainly understand where those folks are coming from, how his smart-alack persona can be insufferable. It certainly doesn't help when Reynolds stars in movies like “Free Guy.” The heavily promoted, Disney-backed, high concept comedy now joins the list of random-ass movies to have Oscar nominations thanks to a single nod in the Visual Effects category. 

That aforementioned high concept can essentially be boiled down to “What if Ryan Reynolds was in a video game?” But to go into a little more detail than that... “Free Guy” is set in the world of Free City, a massively popular online game where players can complete missions or reek havoc in a cartoonish metropolis. Guy is but one of hundreds of NPCs that gamers can attack. Yet after getting a glimpse of a mysterious player named “Molotovgirl,” Guy suddenly develops free will of his own. He sets out about trying to achieve good deeds in the game, becoming an internet meme in the process. As he gets closer to Molotovgirl – actually a programmer named Molly, whose A.I. software was stolen to create Free City – he becomes involved in a quest to find hidden code that proves the theft.

“Free Guy” is one of the worst things a comedy can be: Painfully unfunny. Every attempt to make the audience laugh comes off as utterly desperate. The film obviously wants to emulate the edgy humor of the “Deadpool” films. Yet this is a PG-13 Disney+ exclusive. Its dick jokes and occasional crude asides can't help but feel like the most empty provocations possible. Most of the jokes play off Guy's naïve nature and the mayhem around him. This is a one-note gag, rendered barbless because the violence is so sanitized. There's a lot of absurd humor here. Players wear outrageous outfits, like a pink bunny suit. Guy activates wacky power-ups, like a full-body cushion or power shoes that result in broad physical gags. It's all so exhaustingly wacky. By the time the film includes deliberate shout-outs to “Star Wars” or “The Avengers,” it feels like a hopeless attempt to win over the audience by nodding – in the most thuddingly axiomatic ways possible – at mega-popular franchises. 

Part of why the humor in “Free Guy” is so totally ineffective is because there's nothing honest or genuine about the story. This is an excessively broad and cartoonish motion picture that still attempts to include some sincere heart. Via the unrequited romance between Keys, the guy working with Free City's owner in hopes of uncovering the code he stole, and Molly. Keys programmed his crush on Molly into Guy, which is why he connects with her. This subplot comes off as more creepy than sweet, Keys pining for this woman who clearly isn't interested in him. The story of game creators getting ripped off by a rich, stupid millionaire and attempting to steal back their invention feels like an attempt to justify the premise, not a natural evolution of it. Or what about Guy's friendship with another NPC, who lacks his free will? That's a joke the film hopelessly returns to even though it's utterly stagnant, in both laughs and pathos. “Free Guy” comes off as staggeringly hollow in so many of its choices. 

When working with such a fistular script, you really can't blame the actors for giving weak performances. Ryan Reynolds wears a massive grin throughout the entire film, which quickly becomes off-putting. The character's gee-shucks attitude bumps up against the more typically Deadpool-ian quibs, which makes Reynolds' performance seem insincere. He also gets a phony emotional arc, as Guy eventually has to struggle with being a creation and not an independent, living being. Jodie Comer and Joe Keery are forced to be invested in this bullshit, obviously not being able to sell it. The worst performance belongs to Taika Waititi as Antwan, the film's villain. Waititi, an immensely funny and talented comedic performer, is forced to trail off the weakest possible jokes and pop culture references in an obnoxiously thin bad guy role. If Waititi embarrasses himself, so does Channing Tatum in his mugging cameo as the avatar of a nerdy Youtube streamer. (Who is actually a nerd who still lives with his mom, a joke I can't believe movies were still telling in 2021.)

Since the movie is nominated for its visual effects, I'll say this much:  Some of the digital effects are pretty cool looking. Like when Guy uncovers a hidden paradise or when the city degrades into data. But some of the other effects, like when Ryan Reynolds' face is Deep-Faked onto a giant bodybuilder's frame, are incredibly shitty looking. “Free Guy” wants to be liked, to be seen as hip and fun. This boundless desperation is most apparent in the cameos it gives to prominent Youtube Let's-Players. The whole movie, from the way its game combines elements of “Grand Theft Auto” and “Fortnite,” feels like a pathetic attempt to be popular with the youths. When combined with a meaningless script, a lack of actually funny comedy, and an adrift cast, it makes “Free Guy” a deeply uncomfortable and un-entertaining experience. [4/10]

OSCARS 2022: West Side Story (2021)

Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim's “West Side Story” is perhaps the most beloved musical of the last sixty-five years. The 1961 film adaptation is a classic and also considered one of the greatest movie musicals of all time. Though “West Side Story” has been reinterpreted on-stage countless times, remaking such an adored motion picture couldn't help but breed intense skepticism... Except Steven Spielberg was making it. And when Spielberg wants to make a movie, you assume he has a good reason for doing so. Like all the movie brats, Spielberg has been wanting to make a musical forever. He's been talking about directing “West Side Story” since at least 2014, taking his time developing this one. When released last year, Spielberg's “West Side Story” was a critical success and is now nominated for several Academy Awards.

Like all versions of “West Side Story,” Spielberg's film is loosely inspired by Shakespeare's “Romeo and Juliet.” Set in the San Juan Hill community of Manhattan's Upper West Side, which is about to be demolished, it concerns a feud between street gangs. The Jets are all white while the Sharks are made up of Puerto Rican youths. The rivalry especially heats up when Tony, former leader of the Jets, is released from prison. While at a mixed party, he meets Maria, the younger sister of Bernardo, the Sharks' leader. The two instantly fall in love, immediately creating even more tension between the warring factions. As Tony and Maria try and stay together, the violence in the West Side grows.

Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins' “West Side Story” is a wonderful film. The direction, choreography, and songs are all fantastic. The colorful visuals and sets create a wonderfully dream-like atmosphere. The characters are exaggerated, frequently existing as cartoonish caricatures, which works for the movie. Spielberg's version immediately sets itself apart from the original by going for a more grounded approach. The intentionally artificial sound stages are traded out for more realistic settings. There's a natural grit to the city streets and apartments we see here. The dance-fighting of the original is traded out for naturalistic movement while the characters are more realistic. The result is a “West Side Story” that feels like it could exist in our world, even with all the singing and dancing. 

The original “West Side Story” was groundbreaking, at the time, for its honest depiction of racism. The Jets openly despised the Puerto Rican Sharks, using slurs against them. The prejudice they faced, an systemic element of society, was frankly discussed. Yet the movie ultimately falls back on a wishy-washy moral of all prejudice being bad, depicting the Sharks are equally racist against their white rivals. The remake, smartly, approaches this topic more sensitively. Yes, the message here is still one against intolerance in all its forms. Yet it also acknowledges that people of color are at a far worst disadvantage than even poor white folks. Lieutenant Schrank, and the police force he represents, still treats the Jets a lot more fairly than the Puerto Ricans. It's a film that's a bit more honest about the issues realistically facing this story than the undeniably dated original.

As opposed to the aerial pans over the city that open Robert Wise's “West Side Story,” Spielberg's begins with a series of intoxicating movements over the decimated community. That's the first example of the film's fantastic cinematography. A scene that went viral a while back is just the movie's most stunning moment. That's when a crane shot swoops over the dance floor, effortlessly moving in and out and around the dancers as they move. It's like the camera itself is dancing, Spielberg involving the audience's point-of-view in the musical numbers too. Yet “West Side Story” features plenty of the traditional spectacle we associate with musicals too. The kinetic movements of the performers bring such a tremendous energy to the movie. The spinning and leaping in “America” is such a showstopper. “Cool” becomes a energizing series of leaps, throws, spins, and cuts. In “Gee, Officer Krupke,” a swoop of the legs sends a spiral of papers into the air. And you can't argue with those songs either, each one a classic.   

The cast is expertly selected. At times, I questioned whether Ansel Elgort really has the pipes to pull off the singing necessary. Yet, ultimately, he proves to be a passionate and romantic Tony. He manages to bring an unexpected soul to this guy. (I wish the same could be said about Elgort himself.) Rachel Ziegler is a magnificent singer. She never comes off as melodramatic or false, all of her emotions being honest and earned. Mike Faist is fittingly squirrelly and unhinged as Riff, seeming dangerous and unpredictable. Ariana DeBose also has an incredible power behind her singing voice, which she pairs with an effortless charm . David Alvarez as Bernardo is appropriately intense. Bringing Rita Moreno back was a wonderful idea, as she adds an extra layer of gravitas to the role of Doc.

Spielberg's “West Side Story” debuted to underwhelming box office. There's a number of factor to consider why the musical didn't connect with audiences – the pandemic, too many huge movies coming out too close together, Disney's unwillingness to actually promote movies made by Fox – but it didn't stop critics from taking notice of the film. It's the sort of virtuoso filmmaking from a master of the form that demands to be taken notice of. While it's hard to say if Spielberg's “West Side Story” can ever dethrone the 1961 film as the definitive version of the musical in the public's mind, I have no doubt in mine that he improved upon it. “West Side Story” achieves everything movies are meant to do. [9/10]

OSCARS 2022: Being the Ricardos (2021)

Another Oscar season brings with it another Aaron Sorkin movie. That most didactic of American screenwriting superstars has successfully transitioned to directing at this point, I would say. After his second feature was festooned with award nominations, his latest movie has been similarly warmly received by the Academy. Despite the actual reviews being mixed, “Being the Ricardo” has earned three Oscar noms for obvious reasons. It’s about the Academy’s favorite subject: This business called show. Having respected stars — Nicole Kidman, Javier Bardem, and J.K. Simmons, all nominated — bring beloved entertainment icons to life was a surefire way to get award season attention. Whether or not “Being the Ricardos” deserves this success is debatable, as the actual quality of Sorkin’s film is among this year’s most hotly contested Oscar topics. 

The film follows one tumultuous week in the life of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. Lucy attempts to assemble another episode of “I Love Lucy,” facing pressures from the writers and producers when she wants to rewrite several scenes. The Sunday night, a tabloid story breaks about Desi being unfaithful to her. He denies the infidelity but the suspicion gnaws at her. The same night, on Walter Winchell's radio show, he reveals that the biggest star on television has ties to the Communist party. As she once registered as a Communist, Lucy and everyone else at the studio agonizes about her being blacklisted. Also, this is the week Lucy and Desi decided to tell the network that they were having another baby and the pregnancy was to be written into the show. All the way, Ball looks back at the ups-and-downs of her career and marriage.

All throughout “Being the Ricardos,” I couldn't help but be reminded of “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.” That was Sorkin's ill-conceived attempt to build a prime time drama out of the behind-the-scenes shenanigans at a “Saturday Night Live” style sketch comedy show. (Which famously debuted the same season as “30 Rock,” a comedy with the same premise.) The gulf between the amount of importance “Studio 60” placed on its show-within-a-show and the actual quality of the comedy we saw was hilariously vast. At least “I Love Lucy” was actually a wildly influential and groundbreaking show that brought joy to millions. Yet the subplot where Lucille Ball agonizes over a minor joke, of Desi coming home and attempting to surprise her, feels gloriously self-important. The film recreates several beloved, famous gags from “I Love Lucy.” Despite the prominence these scenes have in television history, they are rendered here as painfully awkward as those “Studio 60” sketches. I don't think Aaron Sorkin understands comedy. He sure as fuck does understands creators hopelessly high on their own supply, who believe every decision they make to be boundary-shattering, life changing genius. 

But of course “Being the Ricardos” is wildly grandiose in its self-importance, it's an Aaron Sorkin movie. Because Sorkin only writes Important with a Capital I stories, the film isn't just about TV. Lucy is a woman struggling to tell her story in a deeply prejudiced time and place, a pain she shares with the sole female writer on the team. All her choices – innately brilliant, because she's a Sorkin protagonist – are double-guessed by the men around her. She fears her career is in jeopardy from the Red Scare, even though she's indifferent to Communism. In other words, she's a woman under an immense amount of pressure to succeed and is about to crack. Which makes her a stand-in for all women in our sexist world. As much as the movie emphasizes Ball's difficulties in a man's world, the movie is ultimately full of shit. Desi insists Lucy say she simply “checked the wrong box.” She objects to that explanation, because it makes her sound like an idiot. Spoiler alert: Desi is proven right in the end and Lucy winds up agreeing with him. 

The only time "Being the Ricardos" feels genuine is when Sorkin stops trying to make some grand statement and just focuses on the characters' humanity. The subplot concerning Lucy's growing discomfort with Desi's cheating is decently compelling. She can deduce the truth but doesn't want to believe it. The flashback sequences, showing the whirlwind beginnings of their romance, are a decent depiction of the compromises one makes while in a relationship. The long road towards "I Love Lucy," where Ball's career had much turbulence, have more naturalistic drama than any of the present scenes. I also like a brief moment, where Ball talks with Vivian Vance about her weight loss. That's a less showy display of the pressures that were on professional women in the fifties than the more melodramatic moments.

It's easy to see why A-list actors are attracted to Sorkin's material. It allows them to make big important speeches and trade sharp verbal barbs. This is certainly true of "Being the Ricardos." J.K. Simmons, as William Frawley, gets the best mix of inspiring monologues and acerbic one-liners. But what of Kidman and Bardem in the lead roles? Well, Bardem finds a decent balance as a charming lothario that would probably be tiresome to be married to. Kidman clearly has the aptitude to juggle Sorkin's fast-paced dialogue. Neither look nor sound much like the real Arnaz or Ball though. This is especially distracting for Kidman, whose attempts to imitate Ball's distinctive voice especially took me out of the movie.

By the way, Lucille Ball never had a week quite like the one portrayed in the film. She dealt with all of the above but not over the course of five days. Normally, I wouldn't care much about a biopic condensing true events but it comes off as a bit disingenuous here. Namely, because the film includes a framing device of interviews with the 'I Love Lucy" writers, as if it's telling the "real story" when it's not. (See also: Desi hating Communism because of his family fleeing Cuba, something they did long before Castro seized control of the island nation.) When writing about actual history, Sorkin's bloviating ways are at least understandable. When focused on the entertainment world, the sheer self-absorption of his style becomes insufferable. Combined with a miscast lead, "Being the Ricardos" becomes one of the more inessential of this year's crop of high-profile Oscar nominees. [5/10]

OSCARS 2022: Writing with Fire (2021)

2022 is the third year of me participating in the Oscar Death Race. That's a contest devoted to watching all the nominated films in that year's Academy Awards slate before the ceremony. This is, frequently, not as easy as it sounds. You would think producers would want to capitalize on the hype but a lot of nominated films are frequently unavailable. This is especially true in the niche categories, like the shorts, International Feature, or Documentary Feature. It seems, every year, there's always a film that is difficult to get a hold of. This year's white whale is “Writing with Fire.” The documentary is barely playing in theaters, not on any major streaming services, or on available on DVD just yet. The film has had several special digital screenings through various avenues but, frustratingly, only in a truncated hour long version. Finally, the full-length cut became available for digital rental... In Canada. Luckily, VPNs exist and now I can check this one off my list.

So what is “Writing with Fire” about? The documentary follows Khabar Lahariya, a newspaper from India run by Dalit women. That would be the country's lowest caste, who often face violence and persecution for their standing in Indian society. A woman named Meera has run the paper for fourteen years, with a staff of all female writers and editors. They ask hard questions and record everything with their cell phones, often speaking truth to power in a world where the consequences are very real. As Meera attempts to pivot the paper towards digital video, the journalist reports on the increasing political division facing India as a country.

The women of Khabar Larariya obviously make for a pretty dramatic story. Here are a group of brave women, trying to challenge the status quo and tell ignored truths, despite facing maltreatment from all sides. The obvious way this is true is because they are women, attempting to do a job in a traditionalist country. Throughout the film, we see them deal with countless different types of sexism. Politicians and policemen laugh off their concerns and don't take them seriously. Men get right in their faces, give them the creepiest grins, and even try to lift up their dresses at one point. A major conflict within the film involves one of the paper's rising writers deciding to leave the work force and be a stay-at-home wife. Meera admits that she understands, when being a journalist and a woman is a position that regularly puts their safety in jeopardy.

If the journalists of Khabar Larariya face considerable challenges as women, they also have to deal with the rigors of being Dalit. India’s caste system is something I don’t totally grasp, rooted in religious and societal beliefs. Yet “Writing with Fire” makes it clear that the prejudice Dalit people deal with is just another manifestation of the same class divisions that effects the entire world. Early on, we meet a Dalit woman who has been repeatedly raped and attacked, the police ignoring her pleas because of her social standing. When one of the reporters brings this up to a police chief, he’s feckless in his denials. We also get a glimpse at an illegal mining operation going on in India, run by the local Mafia and putting countless lives in danger. “Writing with Fire” directly exposes injustice on camera, about as justified a use of cinema as you can think of.

“Writing with Fire” also shows India in a time of transition as a country. And one that will be familiar to American viewers. Hindi Nationalism is on the rise in India, thanks to the enflamed rhetoric of Prime Minister Narendra Modi. We see Modi and his fans threaten violence against their enemies. They mirror catchphrases and chants, swept in a wave of nationalistic pride that’s built on a distrust and hatred of outsiders. We even see a comment on one of Khabar Larariya’s YouTube videos — the pull between traditional press journalism and new media is another thread throughout the film — simply says “Fake news!” These kind of attitudes are coming to prominence all over the world, it seems. 

Despite dealing with a lot of obviously pretty heavy topics, “Writing with Fire” still paints its story as primarily an inspiring one. These women are brave, no doubt, standing up to long-held institutions of power in their country and exposing injustice at its source. Yet the filmmakers deciding to hammer the “inspiring” cord so much, which you can see in the editing and hear in the score, makes “Writing with Fire” feel a bit fluffier than it probably should be. Still, this is an important story to tell and one that clearly needed documenting. Any film that takes us out of our comfort zone and into the heart of another country, showing us the good and the bad, is worth seeing. [7/10]