Underrated: Observe & Report

          I know it's easy, but don't blame Paul Blart. Really, don't do it. It isn't worth it. You know why? Because people ate up Paul Blart. He was a hit at the box office. And the way people are eating up sequels these days, they would have eaten him up again. Had the cheap jokes of Paul Blart persisted in this other mall cop film, Observe & Report, then things would have been peachy. Fortunately for us, instead of another Paul Blart, audiences got Ronnie Barnhardt.
          "What's the difference?" you say. Well, for starters, Paul Blart had a heart of gold. He tried to do good while performing, as some bribed critics would say, "hilarious hijinks."
          Ronnie Barnhardt does not do good. Ever. In fact, he does mostly bad. He has every intention of being a great guy, but he's a sociopath. And very rarely does a sociopath's intention of good equate to actual good. For example, Ronnie's idea of doing good police work is killing crackheads in cold blood. Okay, perhaps they didn't quite die, but he may have used some excessive force. And if that scene wasn't enough for you, watch the ending of the film. It won't be spoiled for you here, but lets just say there is more excessive force used.
           Ronnie Barnhardt's story did not meet much success. It is one of the lowest grossing Seth Rogen films ever released, and one of the critically despised films in his repertoire. But why? What is so wrong with this film? I mean, people have very serious reactions to it. Just look at some of the reviews online. Yikes. People react strongly to the violence, to its cynicism, to its anger. The film is mean-spirited and never lets up. Nobody wins, nobody changes for the better, and nothing is learned. Why would anybody want to see a film about a sociopath with a mundane job who creates a false catharsis for the audience by performing acts of unnecessary violence?
          Wait, actually, that sounds like a familiar plot. It sounds like some universally beloved film that has gone on to become an American classic.

Hint, Hint

          But Taxi Driver wasn't a comedy. It was serious. It had all sorts of drama and what some new, hip critics call "badassery," which is just another word for unnecessary, yet stylish violence. What makes Scorsese's film a masterpiece and Jody Hill's film too vicious and stupid to watch? They're essentially the same film. Only, Taxi Driver was a drama. This man is sick and depraved and his drama is somehow important because of this. Ronnie Barnhardt, equally depraved, is reduced to a bad fart joke by most critics because critics are watching this film as a straight comedy.
          Don't get me wrong, before we go any further, this is a comedic film. 
          However, I would not call Observe & Report a comedy. Comedies, by an antiquated definition, are supposed to have happy endings. This one does not (perhaps arguable, make that argument in the comments section). Comedies are also supposed to make you laugh.
          This film achieves the goal of making its audience laugh, but to what end? How far will the audience follow this film? I saw Observe & Report twice in the theaters. Once by myself, and the second time (in retrospect a bad decision) with my girlfriend. Both times I saw the film I noticed something strange about the audience.
         I was part of a very select few people who were still laughing after half an hour. Particularly after a scene that takes place a half hour into the film. After this certain scene, people rejected the film's attempts at humor. They sat, motionless, waiting for their ten dollar torture chamber to turn its lights back on.
          And it hit me, leaving the theater on both occasions, why they stopped laughing. The protagonist became completely unlikable. We were stuck in a comedy starring a man with no morals.
          Not only that, but it was Seth Rogen up there committing murder, performing date rapes (no argument, here), beating up children, and doing cocaine in a mall bathroom. At the time, we had come to expect Seth Rogen to be a certain character. We expected him to be the sort-of dumb, sort-of funny man child who has a good heart, not to be a totally dumb, sort-of insane sociopath with no heart at all.
          The film is shocking. Its violence is fast and brutal. There is an immense amount of offensive language. There are no likable characters. I'm still describing Observe & Report, you know, for all you Taxi Driver fans out there. However, that latter film is well-respected for its courage, and the former film is universally despised for its indecency.
         What is a courageous film if not a bold display of indecency? 
         I can tell you why Observe & Report failed.

      
          For the same reason that The King of Comedy failed. People don't like to mix their genres if they don't have to. And people certainly don't want any kind of ambiguity from their filmmakers.
         Comedy has an implicit subjectivity. Drama can dare to be objective because there are images on a screen and they play out in succession as a story progresses, fine, but a comedy is always commenting on something. The joke always has to have a point. There is always a means to an end. So when you release a problem comedy, there (bad joke?) going to be some problems. First of all, why are we laughing at this crazy person? Are we laughing at him, or are we laughing with him?
         We're just coasting along in this comedy, and all of a sudden a horrifying act of violence is committed. Are we supposed to laugh at that? Do we laugh at its absurd amount of gore? Is that even funny? What is my intended response?
         When people ask themselves these questions during a movie, they have already left the film. They are no longer following the story or buying into what is happening on screen. They see a fault with the film. And I can't really blame anybody. That is not how we have been trained to watch movies. They are supposed to have clear lines. Funny parts can be in serious movies, but when it gets serious, the music needs to let me know. The tone needs to change accordingly. We can't have the punchline be murder. It's unsatisfying.
          But sometimes we get films that blur these lines. And they're important. Especially films like Observe & Report that are marketed and sold to mass audiences. People need to know that lines can be blurred. Sometimes comedies can convey a message that is just as rich and profound as dramas.
         I'll admit, the film is not perfect, but it is extremely ambitious, thought provoking, and totally courageous. Yes, courageous.

        What do some of you think of the film? Let me know in the comments section.

Films that didn't beat the odds but should have: Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai

    Yep. There's a movie called Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, and it isn't terrible. In fact, there are some days where I rank it as the greatest Jim (Broken Flowers) Jarmusch film of them all. The movie, released in 1999, was DOA in terms of box office despite fair reviews from critics. I'm guessing that the title didn't do much good for the film. There's something about the title that makes people scoff.
     Especially the crowd who would go see a Jim Jarmusch film. Oh, and by the way, it is pronounced Jar-Mush, not Jar-Moosh. He says so himself.
     Most Jarmusch films appeal to the "art crowd" or what some would refer to as "young hipsters." Considering that Jarmusch helped solidify the hipster movement of the early nineties, I'll bet that this extremely specific crowd was a purposeful decision. I mean...look at him.
     However, Ghost Dog is a bit of a departure for Jarmusch in terms of both style and content. Absent is the long, coffeehouse conversation. Absent is the disjointed plot and Tom Waits-style jazz soundtrack. Jarmusch's film feels completely different from the rest of his filmography. There's action, emotion, narrative arc, and plot. It doesn't sound like much, but that is a lot to take on when most of your movies are like this.
     What makes Forrest Whitaker's characterization of Ghost Dog different from most Jarmusch protagonists is that he feels like he was around before the movie started. That also doesn't sound like much, but lets break it down: John Lurie's character in Stranger than Paradise clearly did not exist until the start of the movie. No events prior to the movie are made mention of. There is no weight on his shoulders of any kind. He is a blank slate as the movie begins, as is Johnny Depp's William Blake in Dead Man. Most Jarmusch leading men start the movie as empty, boring people who are thrust into situations out of their control. They become characters over the course of the movie, but they are almost never characters to begin with.
     In other words, Jarmusch men are usually round, yet static protagonists.

Jarmusch on the left. Tom Waits on the right.

     In the case of Ghost Dog, he is a man who has had a long, difficult life. From the moment Ghost Dog arrives on screen, it is clear that he has a past full of intrigue. He has a great interest in the Far East, and reads all the books he can find. He lives alone, trains alone, works alone, and yet everybody seems to know him. His best friend speaks French, and neither men can speak each other's language.
     Ghost Dog doesn't just have the ability to vanish, but he seems to never materialize at all.
     What Whitaker has done with this character is interesting. Instead of playing the role as a weighted down, pained figure, Whitaker faces the role as a content, working-class day laborer. He goes about his day by a routine as any other man would do. He is not an eccentric. He trains and reads in the morning, eats his lunch, learns who he must kill by passenger pigeon by afternoon, and by night assassinates those who get in the way of a viscous Italian gang.
     Normal stuff.
     Whitaker could have easily played the mysterious loner card. You know the drill, a man who plays music and dances by himself, or writes in a journal out loud so we can understand his inner demons. Jarmusch could have directed him with those wide angle lenses all up in his face like he is a tortured soul. But instead we get a conservatively filmed, naturally acted movie about a guy who is just doing his job.
     In fact, it doesn't even occur to Ghost Dog that he is lonely until a little girl reminds him. After this, he seems to have a mild interest in making friends, but this wears off pretty quickly. No, Ghost Dog doesn't want friends, he just wants to do his job.
     Over the course of the film, however, Ghost Dog does realize the err of his ways and decides that maybe it's the Italian gang that is evil, not half of New York. So what we get is an exciting third act that includes butterflies, sniper rifles, murder, shootouts, car chases, disguises, dramatic deaths, friendships, and this truly outstanding scene. It's amazing what Jarmusch is able to accomplish with this film. All at once he is making a true samurai film, a comedy, a racial tolerance film, an action film, a philosophical film, and an intimate character study. Within the a ten minute scene, an old Italian gangster does a broad comedy bit where he raps some Flava Flav lyrics, Ghost Dog kills a man in cold blood, a little girl learns the meaning of "Emptiness is Form", and a man kills a female cop because, as he puts it, "They want to be equal, I make them equal."

     Now that's a lot of stuff to think about for a movie called Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai


   [For further viewing, watch Jarmusch's Mystery Train, a film that is surprisingly heartfelt given the director's dependably cold reputation.]
  

Films That Didn't Beat The odds but should have: Southland Tales

     Think back to 2003. In this magical land of yesteryear, a filmmaker named Richard Kelly is finally gaining recognition for his 2001 film Donnie Darko. The DVD release of the film (as well as a contract with HBO that stipulated almost constant play for a year) makes Donnie Darko a coveted film for teenagers who view themselves as outcasts, whether that is true or not. The film feeds into the belief that outcast, misunderstood teenagers are actually magical, and not just seemingly so. While Darko has plenty of flaws (some silly moments that are inexplicably highly regarded such as the "Why are you wearing that stupid man suit" line...), it is definitely the debut film of a director with true talent. From the perfectly realized soundtrack to the excellent casting, the film, the original edit, not the director's cut,  really does hold up. So you can only imagine the immense interest in Richard Kelly's follow up to the cult phenomenon.
     But don't forget, this is still 2003. Kelly has just announced the title of his follow up film, Southland Tales, and he promises more characters, more story, more budget, and more soundtrack. People are floored, they can't wait. Internet forums are abuzz. We can't wait to see his newest magical outcast movie.
     Then something happens...
     Something strange....
     It is announced that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson is attached.
     Not only is Johnson attached, but Jon Lovits and Justin Timberlake. Keep in mind that it is 2003, and Timberlake is years from proving himself worthy of acting chops (Social Network, Black Snake Moan). There's more! Sarah Michelle Gellar is in it too! And she plays a porn star! Oh yeah, don't forget Stiffler from American Pie...
     Okay, so he loses interest pretty fast. Now it's 2004, and the hipster cult of Donnie Darko is outright confused and angry about the bizarre (and, like, mainstream) casting of Kelly's new film. So interest in the project falters, and is later almost completely lost.
    2005: Domino, written by Kelly and directed by none other than Tony Scott, is released. It is given adequate reviews and adequate box office returns. In other words, it is not a failure or a success, so Kelly is given no real press. Besides, the hipster cult has now all but moved on to follow the slightly more prolific Wes Andersons and Darren Aronofskys of the world. No harm there, they're both great.

This poster didn't help, either...

     In late 2006 Southland Tales finally reaches DVD shelves all over the country. Although it enjoyed a limited theatrical release, people tend to go ahead and believe that it is a straight-to-DVD film with mildly famous celebrities in it. Except for Timberlake, who is still fairly successful before his career renaissance.
     The film has a soundtrack by Moby (yes, that Moby), a 145 minute runtime, a wildly complex plot, a couple of musical-style scenes, and near infinite references to other films, novels, television shows, and religions. It features characters with personality and drive. It features Wallace Shawn! And the scary lady from Poltergeist! We see cars having sex! There are blimps, shoot-outs, flying ice cream trucks, time-loops, and political agendas! To put it mildly, the film is a mess.
     Yet somehow it works. From the narration that gives the film a thread (lacking in the Cannes release) and the soundtrack that ties scenes together, the audience experiences the film as a ride in a sort of alternate universe. The scenes don't really mesh because we are given a glimpse into a "what if?" world. It's like a David Lynch film, a director that has clearly influenced Kelly, you watch it like a dream that only threads thematically, not through narrative.
     Filmmaking with this kind of passion and honesty does not come very often. We are given the rare opportunity to see directly into his head without any sort of manipulation by producers. Aronofsky did this with The Fountain, David O. Russell did this with I heart Huckabees, and Lynch did this with INLAND EMPIRE, and all of these films have found a niche audience based mainly on the names of the directors. Kelly's Southland Tales has found very little success in the years since its release, but I would say that its quality is ten times what his The Box is, and I would rate Tales over Darko any day of the week for its absolute dedication to its world and to the many, many references it makes to other works. There is always something new to find in the film, and always some subplot that is opening itself up to be discovered.
     If you missed this film upon its release, or if you saw it and didn't let its zany, strangely toned atmosphere sweep you off your feet, I ask you, please reconsider this outstanding work.