BEHOLD YOUR FINAL FOUR: |
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Traditionally, as we all know, I should pit these four incredible women together in a battle to eliminate down to the best 2, and then determine the final winner from that. And I thought about it, I really, really did. And you know what I realized?
I DON'T FUCKING WANT TO.
While I think I may have picked a few different women for the Elite Eight, these are the exact women I would choose to be in the Final Four, and honestly, their films perfectly encapsulate the 4 major elements of what I really look for and love in an excellent film:
Is it compelling?
Exceptional use of language and dialogue, or lack thereof. Is the story "good," meaning: is there a sense of urgency or importance? Do I give a shit about this? Are we headed somewhere? What are we fighting for? It can be a subtle or internal fight, but there has to be some chutzpah.
Is it worthwhile?
Are the characters - especially the female ones - compelling, detailed, & believable? Are they fully fleshed out, with enough detailed, meaningful, or pertinent information that I am invested in them? Do I care about what they care about; do I care what happens to them? Regardless of morality or ethics, do I believe that THEY believe in what they are fighting for?
Is it surprising?
I do not require shocks or twist endings, but I ought to be surprised at least once. Not necessarily by the plot, but perhaps by how they choose to tell the story: for example, I was surprised in Birds of Prey by how the director chose to let the women get bruised and sweaty in a believable manner, and I was surprised again by how deftly she avoided luxuriating in the moments when they were the victims of violence. Deciding to include the harsh reality without exploiting/desensitizing the gaze was a surprising and well-executed choice.
Is it beautiful?
Exceptional Cinematography, Production Design, & Costumes; bonus points for an element of whimsy that serves the story: folklore, fantasy, or parable.
AND THE MOTHER FUCKING WINNER IS...
Ultimately, I don't want to choose. And I don't have to. I have known who the winner was going to be about 20 minutes into watching her. She stood out, quietly, and rose above the rest, affecting me in a way that I have not been by a film in years. Truly unparalleled, exceptionally executed, and pristinely flawless. She is, without a doubt, an absolutely perfect film. BEHOLD YOUR MATRIARCH!!!!!!!
Portrait of a Lady on Fire was, without a doubt, the most flawless film of this entire bracket. Sciamma deftly shaped and executed every detail with meticulous genius and I simply cannot recommend it enough. Over two hours long, a cast of FOUR, sparse dialogue, no music, in a foreign language, and I was on the edge of my seat and holding my breath for every single minute of it. It is not an exaggeration to say that this film changed me, and changed the way I will view film forever.
Other Honorable Mentions...
Who Should've Been in the Elite Eight:
1. Sciamma, Portrait of a Lady on Fire
2. Babbit, But I'm A Cheerleader
3. Campion, The Piano
4. Matsoukas, Queen & Slim
5. Amirpour, A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night
6. Caro, Whale Rider
7. de Wilde, Emma
8. Wilde, Booksmart
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Best Aesthetics: Production Design & Costumes
1. Portrait of a Lady on Fire
2. But I'm A Cheerleader
3. Emma
4. Clueless
5. Birds of Prey
6. Queen & Slim
7. A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night
8. Jennifer's Body
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Best Performances:
1. Noémie Merlant & Adèle Haenel, Portrait of a Lady on Fire
2. Hilary Swank & Chloë Sevigny, Boys Don't Cry
3. Holly Hunter, The Piano
4. Melissa McCarthy & Richard E. Grant, Can You Ever Forgive Me
5. Daniel Kaluuya & Jodie Turner-Smith, Queen & Slim
6. Tilda Swinton, We Need To Talk About Kevin
7. Keisha Castle-Hughes, Whale Rider
8. Kaitlyn Dever & Beanie Feldstein, Booksmart
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BOW BEFORE ALL THESE HOLY MATRIARCHS, AND MAY WE SEE YOU ALL BEHIND THE CAMERA AGAIN SOON!
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We are wasting no time here. The Battle for the Final Four is nigh!
An Iranian graphic novel adaptation, a groundbreaking French film, a queer cult classic, a children's movie, a delicious Jane Austen adaptation, a visually iconic Bonnie & Clyde reinterpretation, the FIRST film to ever receive an Oscar nomination for a WOMAN DIRECTOR, and Sofia's luckiest project to date - these films span from 1993 to 2020 and couldn't be more different.
May the Greatest Matriarchs Win!!!
An Iranian graphic novel adaptation, a groundbreaking French film, a queer cult classic, a children's movie, a delicious Jane Austen adaptation, a visually iconic Bonnie & Clyde reinterpretation, the FIRST film to ever receive an Oscar nomination for a WOMAN DIRECTOR, and Sofia's luckiest project to date - these films span from 1993 to 2020 and couldn't be more different.
May the Greatest Matriarchs Win!!!
I fucking love Persepolis and you should too, but I will NEVER RECOVER FROM HOW THE FLAWLESS, SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE THAT WAS Portrait of a Lady on Fire.
The winner is... Celine Sciamma
What a weird set of movies to compare, huh? I see you, Baby Gay Lohan, but what Babbit did with But I’m A Cheerleader transcends filmmaking and falls into the beloved, cherished, and envious bracket all of its own: the cult classic.
The winner is... Jamie Babbit
This one is NOT easy. Emma was - dare I say it? - brand fucking new. Yes, you’re going to see sprinkles of Wes Anderson and a heavy dash of Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, but de Wilde managed to make a WHOLE NEW THING with her take on Jane Austen, something that I am not generally impressed with. Do yourself a favor and please watch the sheer deliciousness that is Emma.
And if you REALLY care about yourself, about unparalleled filmmaking, about #BlackLivesMatter (oh yeah, I went there) and about women who are about to fucking take over Hollywood, watch Queen & Slim fucking immediately. I do not say this lightly: it is a masterpiece.
And if you REALLY care about yourself, about unparalleled filmmaking, about #BlackLivesMatter (oh yeah, I went there) and about women who are about to fucking take over Hollywood, watch Queen & Slim fucking immediately. I do not say this lightly: it is a masterpiece.
The winner is... Melina Matsoukas
I feel like an asshole admitting this, but you know what? I’m a little relieved Coppola’s reign has finally come to an end. YES she is a great director, YES she makes good movies, but YES she is also just the *tiniest* bit overrated. You know who is NOT overrated? Jane Campion, one of the many women who literally paved the way for this entire bracket to even happen. I bow before the sacred, timeless beauty that is The Piano, and you should too.
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SO THIS IS WHAT'S HAPPENING:
I have TWO FILMS LEFT in this INCREDIBLE but NEVER-ENDING bracket. Both feature pretty iconic, unforgettable performances. Both really rough films, centered around a fuck ton of violence towards women. I have already seen both of them. And honestly? Once was kind of enough.
I can already tell you who the winner is: It's Mary Herron, because she managed to turn OG Sub-Reddit Incel-Porn into a brutal and horrifying cautionary tale.
So I am doing myself a favor, and I am not re-living the trauma of watching either of these movies again. Hopefully ever. Sorry, not sorry.
Which means we are down to the GODDAMN WIRE HERE, FOLKS. Below are the 16 winners of ROUND ONE, and there are only THREE ROUNDS LEFT. Behold your Sweet 16, and keep reading to find out who our Elite Eight are!
The Battle for the Elite 8:
How the hell do I compare a documentary about the modern slavery of the American prison system with an animated film about an Iranian teenager? 13th is a movie that absolutely everyone should see. It was educational and beautiful and brutal, meticulously curated by the capable hands of DuVernay, and has stuck with me. ...But there was just something about Persepolis that will always hold an incredibly sentimental place in my heart.
The winner is... Marjane Satrapi
I have seen Fish Tank twice now, and I think it's safe to say that I'll probably never watch it again. It is devastating and brutal and relentless and powerful. Those are all good things. But I could watch Portrait of a Lady on Fire on loop for the rest of my goddamn life and feel nourished every single time.
The winner is... Celine Sciamma
This is the only one of the Sweet 16 bracket that is actually crushing me. How the HECK am I supposed to compare these two? It’s satire vs. folklore, coming of age vs. coming of age. I love both of these movies deeply, for very different reasons. I would watch either of them again in a heartbeat. They are both masterpieces in their own right. …But this is a directing battle, not a “favorite movie” bracket, and one of these films included just a *hint* more chutzpah than the other, an extra layer of flavor and color and intentionality. I might be crucified for this, so all I ask is that everyone wears hot pink plastic raincoats and daisy chains to my funeral.
The winner is... Jamie Babbit
There is exactly ONE of these movies that I’ll ever be watching again.
The winner is... Nancy Meyers
de Wilde vs. Wilde!! Okay I lied, this one is also going to hurt. Comparing two women’s directorial debuts is tough, especially when they’re both so aesthetically specific. Wilde, you did a hell of a job, and I will be the first in line to see your next feature. But goddammit, de Wilde’s was just the *tiniest* bit more delicious.
The winner is... Autumn de Wilde
One of these was good, one was great. One of these was an incredible accomplishment, one of these was a fucking masterpiece.
The winner is... Melina Matsoukas
Okay I really lied, this one deeply hurts my feelings too. Amirpour literally created A NEW GENRE, and deftly wielded a woman as a weapon in a way that was somehow achingly familiar and brand new all at one. But I’ll be damned if The Piano - even with it’s problematic faults - was anything less than a near-perfect film.
The winner is... Jane Campion
It is literally impossible to compare Lost in Translation and American Psycho, so I can only say that while Herron literally defied the seemingly inevitable incel-porn that this could’ve been and instead created a filmic icon, I am going to have to go with “which one would I watch again.” ...And as previously discussed, I adamantly do NOT plan on watching Christian Bale murder women ever again, thank you very much.
The winner is... Sofia Coppola
A failed actor, a failed writer; grumpy, broken people who have a hard time making friends... This bracket personally attacked me in ways I was NOT expecting. However, I must point out that while I previously thought these two movies had nothing in common, I realize now how wrong I was: what an EXCELLENT example of two universally known "comedic" actors flexing their extremely capable, impressive, and hauntingly memorable "dramatic" muscles. The Oscar goes to Bill Murray & Melissa Fucking McCarthy.
Lost In Translation (2003)
Written & Directed by: Sofia Coppola
Starring: Bill Murray, Scarlett Johansson, Giovanni Ribisi
IMDB Synopsis: A faded movie star and a neglected young woman form an unlikely bond after crossing paths in Tokyo.
Starring: Bill Murray, Scarlett Johansson, Giovanni Ribisi
IMDB Synopsis: A faded movie star and a neglected young woman form an unlikely bond after crossing paths in Tokyo.
Sofia Coppola...
“The unexpected connections we make might not last, yet stay with us forever."
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You know, it's funny, because I remember when this movie came out and everyone lost their shit over it. I remember seeing it and thinking it was beautiful, weird, and like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was quiet but not boring, it was subtle but it was funny. There was deep sadness and deep yearning but it never crossed a line and it had a pitch-perfect ending.
Re-watching it, I still felt all of these things, but I couldn't help being struck *just the tiniest little bit* by the Coppola-ness of it all. Don't get me wrong, this is a great movie. But there have been lots of great movies I've seen on this bracket so far, and most of them did not receive the attention and love that Lost in Translation did. As I watched the credits, I saw Francis Ford Coppola's name come up under Executive Producer and I was like, "Oh, right. That's why."
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This is not to say that Sofia hasn't earned her stripes - she made The Virgin Suicides with nothing going for her name except the bad taste she left in everyone's mouth from her infamously terrible performance in The Godfather III. Yet she proved with her debut that she could actually make great fucking movies, and has earned a place as a well-respected director in her own right. ...But it can't be ignored that she had a lot of help getting there. I don't fault her for that; she didn't choose to be born into one of Hollywood's oldest filmmaking families, and like I said, she's worked hard and proven that she can actually do this.
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I guess more than anything, it makes be a bit wistful to think of how many talented gems are out there that were just as good as Lost in Translation, but never got their fair share in the limelight because their directors and producers couldn't afford that kind of marketing campaign - or to cast Bill Murray and ScarJo, at the height of "Scarlett Fever" no less.
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And can we talk for a minute about how Scarlett was ONLY SEVENTEEN during the filming of this movie?! The weight and maturity and depth she brought to a role that easily could've become flighty and superficial cannot be ignored. Likewise, Bill Murray manages to make things funny without so much as moving an eyebrow, and essays could be written about his well-timed sighs.
I 100% think that she deserved her Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, it is a magnificent script. And the lead performances are undeniably unforgettable: literally no one else could have played those parts with such composure and humor and softness and sadness. You'll never see a more beautifully shot, accurate depiction of jet-lag, and with such expertly selected music. It is - dare I say it? - an objectively damn near flawless film, and everyone should see it at least once in their lives.
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But, for whatever reason, watching it as an adult it just didn't overwhelm me with its splendor the way that it did when I was 14; it just felt like a really good movie that I probably won't watch again for another 10 years. I think it just hits differently as an adult. I was significantly more aware this time around of how hard it is to connect with people, and instead of feeling the intimate preciousness of finding those connections, I was troubled by how sad it is that they're so rare to begin with.
But, for whatever reason, watching it as an adult it just didn't overwhelm me with its splendor the way that it did when I was 14; it just felt like a really good movie that I probably won't watch again for another 10 years. I think it just hits differently as an adult. I was significantly more aware this time around of how hard it is to connect with people, and instead of feeling the intimate preciousness of finding those connections, I was troubled by how sad it is that they're so rare to begin with.
(As I'm writing this, it is occurring to me that *perhaps* watching this in quarantine has something to do with that...)
(As I'm writing this, it is occurring to me that *perhaps* watching this in quarantine has something to do with that...)
Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)
Directed by: Marielle Heller
Written by: Nicole Holofcener & Jeff Whitty
Starring: Melissa McCarthy, Richard E. Grant, Dolly Wells
IMDB Synopsis: When Lee Israel falls out of step with current tastes, she turns her art form to deception.
Written by: Nicole Holofcener & Jeff Whitty
Starring: Melissa McCarthy, Richard E. Grant, Dolly Wells
IMDB Synopsis: When Lee Israel falls out of step with current tastes, she turns her art form to deception.
Marielle Heller...
"I love Lee. There’s something about characters who say honestly what’s on their mind that is incredibly refreshing. Lee just does not give a fuck about how people respond to her. I think for women there’s a sense always towards being conscious of other people’s feelings and being aware of how we’re perceived.
It’s great to have a character who cares so much more about her intellect than her looks. I found her funny. I relate to her in so many ways, and I think so many of us who are writers relate to the feeling that our work is part of us, a reflection of us, and if we’re not being recognized for our work we’re somehow not valid any more."
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To be honest, I am struggling to recall much of the artistic or atmospheric direction in this film because all I can fucking think about is the performance Heller gave us through MELISSA GODDAMN MCCARTHY. That Oscar nom was 1000% earned, and I would re-watch this movie in a heartbeat just to analyze her every move again. I don't doubt that McCarthy is capable of incredible dramatic acting in her own right, but it would be remiss not to give a fair share of this accomplishment to Marielle Heller for bringing that out of her.
There was something about watching this movie at this point in my life that just struck me. Before quarantine, I was feeling burnt out, rejected, and defeated; I had tried pursuing a career in freelance production design and it started out great, but then the jobs slowly started getting further and further apart. I was especially burdened with the practical, social aspects of the job - so much of work in that industry is based on who you know and networking, things that I am really bad at curating organically. I was feeling like a failure, not just as an artist but as a person incapable of doing the necessary things like small-talking and making superficial connections and friendships to help further my career. Now I am living in quarantine, desperately trying to write a memoir that I'm fairly convinced no one wants to read (or if they do, they certainly don't want to pay me for it). I know I'm a good writer, but I'm once again feeling like a failure in the more mundane aspects of the job: reaching out to people, being open to criticism, having a community to support me. I am nowhere near in the position that Lee Israel was - I like to think I'm only half the bitch she was - something I say with enormous solidarity and compassion in my heart; Resting Bitch Face and social anxiety are real fucking things, and they're incredibly hard to overcome. Also, I mean, come on, her only friend was her cat. I felt like I was looking into an extremely sad but very plausible potential future for myself.
There was something about watching this movie at this point in my life that just struck me. Before quarantine, I was feeling burnt out, rejected, and defeated; I had tried pursuing a career in freelance production design and it started out great, but then the jobs slowly started getting further and further apart. I was especially burdened with the practical, social aspects of the job - so much of work in that industry is based on who you know and networking, things that I am really bad at curating organically. I was feeling like a failure, not just as an artist but as a person incapable of doing the necessary things like small-talking and making superficial connections and friendships to help further my career. Now I am living in quarantine, desperately trying to write a memoir that I'm fairly convinced no one wants to read (or if they do, they certainly don't want to pay me for it). I know I'm a good writer, but I'm once again feeling like a failure in the more mundane aspects of the job: reaching out to people, being open to criticism, having a community to support me. I am nowhere near in the position that Lee Israel was - I like to think I'm only half the bitch she was - something I say with enormous solidarity and compassion in my heart; Resting Bitch Face and social anxiety are real fucking things, and they're incredibly hard to overcome. Also, I mean, come on, her only friend was her cat. I felt like I was looking into an extremely sad but very plausible potential future for myself.
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And then there's the heartbreaking way this story tackles "success." Much like Lee Israel, I am also an ardent lover of Dorothy Parker's witticisms (who isn't?), and I can really vibe with the liberation and tragedy of being able to express yourself anonymously... Like maybe if I was a completely different person - dead, or a man, or just a cuter and happier and more chill person to be around - then I would be more successful.
The more I think about it, Lost in Translation and Can You Ever Forgive Me actually have so much in common: they're both about lonely people struggling to make a connection, and include the rare depiction of non-sexual intimacy between a man and a woman. It's so fucking hard to meet people you can actually connect with, and our baggage, flaws, and the unpredictable circumstances of life can get in the way of them so quickly. Richard E. Grant's performance as the aging gay "Artful Dodger" felt both fresh and familiar, and was a perfect foil to McCarthy's grumpy, given-up-on-life Brooklyn dyke.
While Bill Murray and ScarJo gave us "past-his-prime actor gets a breath of fresh air with a young but sad woman struggling to find her way," Grant and McCarthy gave us "old gays teetering on the edge of poverty use alcoholism, razor sharp wit, and petty crime to remind us that resilience is really is a girl's best friend." I honestly don't know which story I like more, or which one was the "better" movie.
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I'm inclined to say that Lost In Translation beats Can You... as far as aesthetics go, but that's not entirely fair. Heller curated a very distinct and cohesive atmosphere to this film; the pacing of the script, the development of the characters, and the little details that let us into their lives were just as detailed and nuanced as Coppola's, just in a totally different flavor.
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Coppola has spoken before about how she likes to "direct her movies from a distance," and you can feel that. There is a lot of space in Lost in Translation, a lot of things left unsaid (or whispered), a lot of room to fill in your own blanks. But she fills those little voids with color and feeling and music and exceptional memorable characters, and you walk away feeling sad but nourished. If Coppola was a painter, she'd be a Monet: huge, abstract, watery, but when you look closer you can see the edges of detailed water lilies and sleepy willow trees.
Heller works in a microcosm, creating layers upon layers of details and textures and smells. Her focus was primarily McCarthy's character and the world through McCarthy's eyes, but that doesn't mean that the rest of the film suffered for it. That being said, it's impossible to say that Can You... was as "beautiful" as Lost in Translation, but beauty was not a part of the story she was trying to tell. Should it have been? If Heller was a painter, she'd be that one Renoir painting of all the people having lunch outside (you know, the one from Amelie?), where everyone looks like they're lost, living in their own little worlds, doing whatever they can to cope.
I feel so conflicted. I feel like it would be criminal not to pick Coppola - she was nominated for a Best Directing Oscar, after all, and Heller didn't even snag a nomination! But was that just because of Coppola's name? Because Can You Ever Forgive Me was a lovingly invented little film featuring deep and astonishing performances. Did the Academy think that McCarthy and Grant just directed themselves?
And the winner is...
I can't say I 100% feel great about this choice, and much like the last bracket, I sincerely hope it does not affect anyone's decision to watch the film that didn't "win." (Seriously, just because A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night is incredible doesn't mean that Jennifer's Body isn't awesome in her own ways!) For whatever reason - and perhaps it is my own, Academy-brainwashed bias?? - there was something just a little *extra* about Lost in Translation. It sort of transcended Coppola, Murray, and ScarJo. It's a timeless, beautiful film and ought to be praised as such.
HOW-FUCKING-EVER. I do NOT say this lightly, but if this was a battle of performances between Bill Murray vs. McCarthy, I actually think she would have won - and Lost in Translation might be the greatest performance of Bill Murray's career. If you value witnessing incredible performances from unlikely places, please, PLEASE do yourself a favor and watch Can You Ever Forgive Me. Melissa McCarthy is sensational, and I genuinely hope she continues to hand-pick her dramatic roles because her screen presence is a goddamn TREAT.
HOLY SHIT ONLY 2 MORE MOVIES LEFT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Jennifer's Body" (Karyn Kusama) vs. "A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night" (Ana Lily Amirpour)
5/8/2020
"Men looking over their shoulders as they walk down dark alleyways" might just be my new favorite film genre, whether they be the halls of high school or the labyrinth of an Iranian-Western-film-noir dystopia. Time to dig out your skateboard and your teenage crush on Megan Fox because this bracket was FUCKING FUN.
Jennifer's Body (2009)
Directed by: Karyn Kusama
Written by: Diablo Cody
Starring: Megan Fox, Amanda Seyfried, Adam Brody
IMDB Synopsis: A newly possessed high school cheerleader turns into a succubus who specializes in killing her male classmates. Can her best friend put an end to the horror?
Written by: Diablo Cody
Starring: Megan Fox, Amanda Seyfried, Adam Brody
IMDB Synopsis: A newly possessed high school cheerleader turns into a succubus who specializes in killing her male classmates. Can her best friend put an end to the horror?
Karyn Kusama...
"I'm a director first and foremost, and I hope that the fact that I'm female is just one of the many things that informs my unique perspective on the world."
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It is impossible to talk about how AHEAD OF ITS TIME and ICONIC this movie is without including one of my favorite ladies in the conversation, the wildly talented and accoladed writer, Diablo Cody:
 | "Karyn Kusama did such a killer job directing that movie, and I think it was so unconventional, and so specifically about the girls in a way that excluded a lot of people – and in a way that I love, because I’m all about specific art. I would rather make something that ten people adore than make something that 100 million people like enough to buy a ticket to. So I just think it’s a very specific piece. ...At the time, there was a lot of negativity around the movie, because I was very outspoken at that time, Megan Fox was very outspoken at that time… I love that she was speaking her mind. But she was punished for it. People don’t like women with big mouths, and there were a lot of them on that project. So, you know, let’s chalk it up to misogyny." |
And now let's talk about why this movie came about 7 years too early:
The Megan Fox of it all. The way I remembered the situation was that she was only famous for being in Transformers, and then was only famous for calling Michael Bay "a nightmare to work with," and then got fired from Transformers and Michael Bay replaced her character with a literal Victoria's Secret Angel. At the time, everyone thought Fox was being a spoiled brat, biting the hand that fed her.
I re-visited those headlines to look at them through some adult, post-#MeToo-era glasses, and WOW IT WAS ACTUALLY SO MUCH WORSE THAN THAT. You know what Fox actually said, the quote that spurned Michael Bay's wrath and stalled her career for years?
“[Michael] wants to create this insane, infamous mad-man reputation. He wants to be like Hitler on his sets, and he is. So he’s a nightmare to work for but when you get him away from set, and he’s not in director mode, I kind of really enjoy his personality because he’s so awkward, so hopelessly awkward. He has no social skills at all. It’s endearing to watch him. He’s so vulnerable and fragile in real life and then on set, he’s a tyrant.”
And do you remember what Bay's response was?? He literally enlisted the entire crew of Transformers to write an "open letter" to her that was then published in every magazine and website on the internet. Just a quick little excerpt:
"When facing the press, Megan is the queen of talking trailer trash and posing like a porn star. And yes we’ve had the unbearable time of watching her try to act on set, and yes, it’s very cringe-able. So maybe, being a porn star in the future might be a good career option. But make-up beware, she has a paragraph tattooed to her backside (probably due her rotten childhood) — easily another 45 minutes in the chair!" - Loyal Transformers Crew
 | In the other 6 ridiculous paragraphs, she is also referred to as "Ms. Sourpants," "unfriendly bitch," "dumb-as-rocks," and told that she should "smile more." AND ALL OF THIS BECAUSE SHE SAID HER DIRECTOR WAS "SOMETIMES A LITTLE AWKWARD." Sure, she was 23 and a little snarky and maybe calling him "Hitler" was a bit much. But Jesus Christ, did she really deserve all that? This from the same man who cast her as an extra in Bad Boys II when she was a minor, of which Fox has said: “They said, you know, Michael, she’s 15 so you can’t sit her at the bar…so his solution to that problem was to then have me dancing underneath a waterfall getting soaking wet. At 15, I was in 10th grade. So that’s sort of a microcosm of how Bay’s mind works.” |
So yeah, Jesus Christ, no wonder the world wasn't ready for an angry, horny, vulgar teenager girl to go around eating boys. Which is a shame, because Megan Fox does SUCH A GOOD JOB OF IT. To be fair, this is no Juno - Diablo Cody's Oscar-winning masterpiece - but there are still some pretty fucking memorable quotes in it, not just from Fox - and her equally hilarious counterpart, the always-perfect Amanda Seyfried - but from the myriad of hilarious ancillary characters, reminding me of all the reasons why you couldn't pay me to go back in time to high school (or any place where I'd have to dress like it was 2009 again).
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(My personal fave)
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(My second fave)
The whole premise of the film is totally ahead of its time too: a teen girl from a small town gets mistaken for a virgin when a struggling indie band attempts to make a sacrifice to Satan in exchange for fame and glory. Jennifer, who "isn't even a backdoor virgin," gets accidentally turned into a blood-sucking demon in the process.
But beneath that hilarious and progressive take on the anti-slut-shaming movement, the deeper story is about two teenage girls in a toxic, manipulative friendship, and how hard it is to "break up" with your mean high school girl friend. There is a lot of thinly veiled sexual tension between them (part of what makes this film a cult-classic amongst the gays today), highlighting the age-old question of "do I want to be her or be on her?", something all queer teens struggled with as youths. Diablo Cody's razor sharp, internet-flavored wit keeps this from becoming a salacious, blood-and-tits gore show for teenage boys, and instead curates it as the iconic, gut-wrenching and gut-eviscerating horror comedy for teenage girls that it was always intended to be.
But beneath that hilarious and progressive take on the anti-slut-shaming movement, the deeper story is about two teenage girls in a toxic, manipulative friendship, and how hard it is to "break up" with your mean high school girl friend. There is a lot of thinly veiled sexual tension between them (part of what makes this film a cult-classic amongst the gays today), highlighting the age-old question of "do I want to be her or be on her?", something all queer teens struggled with as youths. Diablo Cody's razor sharp, internet-flavored wit keeps this from becoming a salacious, blood-and-tits gore show for teenage boys, and instead curates it as the iconic, gut-wrenching and gut-eviscerating horror comedy for teenage girls that it was always intended to be.
“The movie was really the movie I wanted to make and the movie that Diablo Cody wrote. In regards to its marketing, it was an epic misstep and they sold it to boys instead of to the girls who it was written for, and by, and about." - Karyn Kusama
A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night (2014)
Written & Directed by: Ana Lily Amirpour
Starring: Sheila Vand & Arash Marandi
IMDB Synopsis: In the Iranian ghost-town Bad City, a place that reeks of death and loneliness, the townspeople are unaware they are being stalked by a lonesome vampire.
Starring: Sheila Vand & Arash Marandi
IMDB Synopsis: In the Iranian ghost-town Bad City, a place that reeks of death and loneliness, the townspeople are unaware they are being stalked by a lonesome vampire.
Ana Lily Amirpour...
"As an artist, and for me personally, my biggest fear is categorization. I hate the idea that I would become someone who says that "this is what I do and now that's what I am." What I really feel like is an explorer. I want to continue exploring my brain cave and see what's there, you know? And I don't want to just stay in one cave."
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An Iranian, black-and-white Western about vampires: you know, the obvious combination of all genres. Despite the similarities between these two films - horror movies that reimagine their villains as literal man-eaters - it feels impossible to compare them when they have such radically different strengths. Jennifer’s Body offers laugh-out-loud funny, razor-sharp witticisms, and A Girl is all but silent.
Instead, Amirpour carefully brews a tantalizing portrait of a dark and seedy town in desperate need of some vigilante justice, which comes in the brilliant shape of a vampiric heroine. The story is quiet and pulsing with tension, and the subtle thread of romance is pleasantly nuanced. Ironically, nothing is (morally) black and white in this little film noir masterpiece, and I don’t want to say anything more about it because it’s definitely one of my favorites of the entire bracket and everyone should watch this movie and support my massive crush on the skateboarding, androgynous, shape-shifting icon that is Ana Lily Amirpour.
I’m struggling to pinpoint exactly why I like Amirpour so much, and why her subtle, slow-burn style works for me whereas other, arguably similar filmmakers don’t. There is definitely a case to be made for at least a few similarities between A Girl and something like, say, Winter’s Bone: they both follow a young woman around the seedy underbelly of a broken home town, incapable of ignoring the chance to right a wrong when she sees one. But one of those was fucking awesome, and the other one only had Baby J. Law going for it (sorry).
The aesthetics are an undeniable component - I really fucking dig a well done gothic vamp story, and the weirder it is, the better. I will never tire of films about women destroying bad men (however literally), and I appreciate it when those stories include generously fleshed out male characters that can serve as a substantial foil. The music and costumes (Natalie O'Brien) were perfect, the cinematography was exceptional (Lyle Vincent). It was moody without being overly sentimental, violent without being gratuitous, and morally ambiguous enough to teeter deliciously on the edge between a feminist vengeance thriller and a heartbreaking film noir tragedy.
In short: this movie fucking rocks.
The aesthetics are an undeniable component - I really fucking dig a well done gothic vamp story, and the weirder it is, the better. I will never tire of films about women destroying bad men (however literally), and I appreciate it when those stories include generously fleshed out male characters that can serve as a substantial foil. The music and costumes (Natalie O'Brien) were perfect, the cinematography was exceptional (Lyle Vincent). It was moody without being overly sentimental, violent without being gratuitous, and morally ambiguous enough to teeter deliciously on the edge between a feminist vengeance thriller and a heartbreaking film noir tragedy.
In short: this movie fucking rocks.
And the winner is...
Don't get me wrong, Jennifer's Body is fucking FUN and if you've never seen it (or haven't seen it in a while), trust me when I say she's worth the re-watch. But ultimately, when you're dealing with the nuanced genius that is Amirpour, brilliant beats fun.
ATTENTION: ADDENDUM
Yes, I'm making ANOTHER last minute change to my bracket because it's MINE and I fucking can. This whole thing was supposed to be about watching new movies and exploring the wide world of under-appreciated talent when it comes to women directed films, and during the re-branding I made a lot of edits to include some more familiar titles. Unfortunately, that meant putting a handful of movies that I have already seen on the bracket, and this last stretch has had the most re-watches yet.
So, while it made PERFECT SENSE to match up Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation with Lulu Wang's The Farewell, I am replacing the latter with Marielle Heller's Can You Ever Forgive Me. I haven't seen Lost in Translation since, like, high school, and it seems impossible not to include someone as iconic as Coppola on a female director list. I watched The Farewell when it came out around 6 months ago, and while I thought it was a heartfelt story with a really great, subtle performance from Awkwafina (love her), I can't confidently say that it was worth a re-watch. Heller is someone who's film choices increasingly fascinate me, and I have been wanting to watch Melissa McCarthy's surprising turn in a serious role (and Oscar nominated!) for awhile, so THAT'S WHAT'S HAPPENING, FOLKS.
So, while it made PERFECT SENSE to match up Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation with Lulu Wang's The Farewell, I am replacing the latter with Marielle Heller's Can You Ever Forgive Me. I haven't seen Lost in Translation since, like, high school, and it seems impossible not to include someone as iconic as Coppola on a female director list. I watched The Farewell when it came out around 6 months ago, and while I thought it was a heartfelt story with a really great, subtle performance from Awkwafina (love her), I can't confidently say that it was worth a re-watch. Heller is someone who's film choices increasingly fascinate me, and I have been wanting to watch Melissa McCarthy's surprising turn in a serious role (and Oscar nominated!) for awhile, so THAT'S WHAT'S HAPPENING, FOLKS.
During the re-branding, I intentionally put these two movies against each other at this point in the bracket: I naively thought that it would be an easy, obvious, quick decision, because The Piano was one of my absolute FAVORITE movies when I saw it as a senior in high school, and while Angelina Jolie was my first serious girl crush, I had heard such mixed things about By The Sea that I never saw it (and I legitimately fell asleep during Unbroken). So surely Jolie is not as good a director as she was an actor in the late 90s, right? Right??
By The Sea (2015)
Written & Directed by: Angelina Jolie
Starring: Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie
IMDB Synopsis: A couple tries to repair their marriage while staying at a hotel in France.
Starring: Brad Pitt & Angelina Jolie
IMDB Synopsis: A couple tries to repair their marriage while staying at a hotel in France.
Angelina Jolie...
"Your artistic journey always coincides with life, and, if you're lucky, your life remains more full than those characters onscreen."
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Some context: I was obsessed with Angelina Jolie in high school. She was the Oscar-winning, wild child, punk rock girl of my dreams, and I didn't know if I wanted to be her or be on her. When it came to Brangelina, I was #TeamAngie all the way, and was a little more crushed than I care to admit when they divorced.
By The Sea is not the version of Jolie that I grew up watching and crushing on; much like her Oscar-nominated role in Changeling, she channeled a lot of her mother. It's a facet of her that always makes me a little uncomfortable to watch: it feels terribly authentic, painfully intimate, bordering on voyeurism (which is a reoccurring theme in the film).
“I’m glad we did By the Sea because we did explore something together. Whatever it was, maybe it didn’t solve certain things, but we did communicate something that needed to be communicated to each other.”
First, the things in this that really, really worked: costumes, cinematography, and the painful but brilliant way Jolie captured vulnerability.
Costume Design was done by Ellen Mirojnick, the genius behind The Greatest Showman and Maleficent, and they took on a life of their own. I am still trying to figure out how the hell Jolie's character packed all those exquisite hats in that Louis Vitton luggage without ruining them, but I don't care - she looked phenomenal... Which, I'm sad to say, was a necessary distraction because Angelina Jolie was deathly thin in 2015. While it definitely served the fragility of her character, it was at times painful to look at.
This movie was visually gorgeous. I suppose it would be impossible to make an ugly film in Malta - against the backdrop of cobalt blue water, antiquated cafés, and poetically dangerous limestone cliffs, everything looks like a painting.
While Jolie undoubtedly had a talented cinematographer (Christian Berger), there was something incredibly intimate about her directorial choices that honestly surprised me. She meticulously built this oppressive, heavy space between her and Pitt, which is impressive considering they spend most of the movie in the same room together. The layered, nuanced history between them as a couple was palpable; juxtaposed with these incredible wide shots of the cold marble in the hotel room, the overwhelming expanse of the sea, and the arid landscape of the cliffs beneath them, you felt as connected to the beauty surrounding them as you did to the dysfunction rotting inside.
What didn't work as much for me was the weight of the ending - for the duration of two hours, you're waiting for an explanation as to why this marriage is falling apart, because it's been so heavily indicated that there was a significant event or moment that started their demise. Was it an affair? The death of a child? In the last 10 minutes we finally discover that it's because Jolie's character is barren. They tried to get pregnant, and she suffered through two miscarriages - that's why she so diabolically sets out to destroy all the happiness around her.
Honestly, it fell short for me. I think it would've been more impactful if they had addressed the era they were living in: this was supposed to take place in the 1960s, but as beautiful as the costumes were, she just as likely could've been a fashion enthusiast with an appreciation for vintage couture. If the era had been a more oppressive structure in their narrative - she was a retired dancer, and being barren would presumably make her feel like a failure as a woman and a wife - then I would've understood the weight of the realization more. But it was easy to forget that this was the 60s, and I couldn't help thinking that as tragic as it is for a woman who desperately wants to be a mother not being able to carry a child, it wasn't a strong enough explanation for all of her antics. Or maybe they just built it up too much, making it seem like the big reveal was going to be something much more insidious or sensational.
They really could've had no reason at all for her emotional stability and it likely would've worked just as well. If the pressure for the big twist had been removed, I would've fully believed that they were just two crazy kids with some weird kinks who couldn't quite make things work.
Honestly, it fell short for me. I think it would've been more impactful if they had addressed the era they were living in: this was supposed to take place in the 1960s, but as beautiful as the costumes were, she just as likely could've been a fashion enthusiast with an appreciation for vintage couture. If the era had been a more oppressive structure in their narrative - she was a retired dancer, and being barren would presumably make her feel like a failure as a woman and a wife - then I would've understood the weight of the realization more. But it was easy to forget that this was the 60s, and I couldn't help thinking that as tragic as it is for a woman who desperately wants to be a mother not being able to carry a child, it wasn't a strong enough explanation for all of her antics. Or maybe they just built it up too much, making it seem like the big reveal was going to be something much more insidious or sensational.
They really could've had no reason at all for her emotional stability and it likely would've worked just as well. If the pressure for the big twist had been removed, I would've fully believed that they were just two crazy kids with some weird kinks who couldn't quite make things work.
That being said, the delicately handled nuance of their voyeurism-as-foreplay was a very welcome surprise. I love watching freaky people figure out that they're not alone, and that was probably my favorite part of the whole film. The entire time I was watching, all I could think of was this Brad Pitt quote from an interview a few years before their divorce... Sometimes life really does imitate art:
“My girl got sick. She was constantly nervous because of problems at work, personal life, her failures and children. She lost 30 pounds and weight about 90 pounds. She got very skinny and was constantly crying. She was not a happy woman. She had suffered from continuing headaches, heart pain and jammed nerves in her back and ribs. She did not sleep well, falling asleep only in the mornings and got very quickly tired during the day. Our relationship was on the verge of a break up. Her beauty was leaving her somewhere, she had bags under eyes, she was poking her head, and stopped taking care of herself. She refused to shoot the films and rejected any role. I lost hope and thought that we’ll get separated soon… But then I decided to act. After all I’ve got the most beautiful woman on earth. She is the idol of more than half of men and women on earth, and I was the one allowed to fall asleep next to her and to hug her. I began to shower her with flowers, kisses and compliments. I surprised and pleased her every minute. I gave her lots of gifts and lived just for her. I spoke in public only about her. I incorporated all themes in her direction. I praised her in front of her own and our mutual friends. You won’t believe it, but she blossomed. She became better. She gained weight, was no longer nervous, and loved me more than ever. I had no clue that she can love that much. And then I realized one thing: the woman is the reflection of her man. If you love her to the point of madness, she will become it."
"We have got to stop being such assholes."
The Piano (1993)
Written & Directed by: Jane Campion
Starring: Holly Hunter, Harvey Keitel, Sam Neill
IMDB Synopsis: In the mid-19th century, a mute woman is sent to New Zealand along with her young daughter and prized piano for an arranged marriage to a wealthy landowner, but is soon lusted after by a local worker on the plantation.
Starring: Holly Hunter, Harvey Keitel, Sam Neill
IMDB Synopsis: In the mid-19th century, a mute woman is sent to New Zealand along with her young daughter and prized piano for an arranged marriage to a wealthy landowner, but is soon lusted after by a local worker on the plantation.
Jane Campion...
“I would love to see more women directors because they represent half of the population - and gave birth to the whole world. Without them writing and being directors, the rest of us are not going to know the whole story.”
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In the original bracket, I didn’t even bother including Campion because I remembered how intensely I loved this movie as a teenager and felt certain that it wouldn’t be fair to include it considering my bias. However, it was EXTREMELY interesting to watch this movie as an adult, because WOW teenage Sarah was NOT AWARE of how problematic huge parts of this story are.
I really did not remember how extremely fucked up the whole Keitel/Hunter romance was. For those who have forgotten: Holly Hunter, a mute pianist, moves to New Zealand with her 8 year old daughter (an Oscar-winning Baby Anna Paquin) to marry the vain and possessive White Colonist, Ryan Neill. He meets them on the beach and hires the Maori natives to trek her piles of shit up a literal mountain, but leaves her beloved piano on the sand.
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Before they can start their weird mail-order-bride marriage, Neill has some real estate business to take care of and disappears for a few days, so Hunter convinces Keitel to take them down to the beach again so she can visit her piano. She plays on the beach and (presumably) Keitel falls a little bit in love with her - how could you not? - and comes up with a genius idea when Neill gets back: Keitel will give a plot of land to Neill in exchange for the piano - and lessons from his new wife.
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When Hunter finds out, she’s livid - but not as upset as when she finds out that Keitel doesn’t actually want to learn how to play the piano, he wants to watch her play the piano, while he… “does stuff.” What choice does she have? Desperate for her piano back, Hunter agrees. COOL NOT CREEPY AT ALL.
Throughout this extremely problematic arrangement, they somehow begin to kind of fall in love? Here’s where I feel like just a few small details would’ve really altered the ickiness of the plot: if there had been some established sexual chemistry between Keitel and Hunter at the very beginning - like if she’d gotten off the boat and thought that he was her intended, not Neill - then it wouldn’t have felt so goddamn manipulative.
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Instead, even though Keitel eventually comes to feel remorse for the predicament and calls it off - “It’s making you a whore and it’s making me wretched…” - I’m left wondering if Hunter really was falling in love with him, or if she was just being groomed and manipulated because Keitel had the ONE THING IN HER LIFE THAT GAVE HER JOY (besides her daughter, of course) and since she was a powerless woman in a sexist era in a foreign land (made even MORE powerless by the absence of speech), she had no choice but to play along.
It didn’t feel established enough that Hunter might have been a little bit kinky and kind of enjoyed the arrangement. Don’t get me wrong, her eyeball acting is literally a once-in-a-lifetime performance that must be witnessed (and earned her a well-deserved Oscar), but given how we perceive consent today, I would’ve liked just a little bit more.
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Despite this minor (glaring) detail, The Piano is still as shocking, tragic, erotic, and gorgeous as I remember it, and remains to this day my Single Favorite Film Score Of All Time Ever. If I could put my heart and body and soul into a musical composition, it would be Michael Nyman’s theme from The Piano. (And coming in second would be his score for The Cook, The Thief, His Wife, And her Lover. I’m a big Michael Nyman fan.)
The takeaway: oh my god, Holly Hunter’s face. The bonnets, the dresses, the music, and even her iconic hairstyle don’t hold a candle to the intensity of Hunter’s internal monologue. She doesn’t stop speaking for a second, and she never says a word. Her composure was meticulous, and she somehow learned how to flare her cheekbones? Hunter is extraordinary, and I truly believe only the right director could’ve nurtured and choreographed such an exceptional performance.
And the winner is...
I love that we're seeing more and more films on the bracket that were directed and written by the same woman. There is something even more pure (and badass) about knowing for certain that this was exactly the story that woman wanted to tell, and trusting that it didn't get mishandled by the vision and prejudice of anyone else.
Ultimately the difference between By The Sea and The Piano for me came down to the power of the internal monologue. Hunter’s is full of rage, arousal, desperation, and resilience, and Jolie’s was just… pain. It was such an open wound it almost didn’t feel appropriate to look at. The beauty of the film gently tricked you into witnessing a very real marriage fall apart, largely because of Jolie’s unaddressed pain. It was palpable, and it hurt. One of Jolie's greatest strengths as a director - her ability to capture vulnerability - ended up eclipsing the rest of the elements in her film. If she could learn to heal from it and harness it the way Campion has, then I will be genuinely excited to see her behind the camera in the future. She has a talent for this, she just needs to keep honing it. Until then...
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Sarah Ruth(less) Joanou is a Chicago based writer, artist, production designer, actor, & cat mom.
