This Michael Jordan series is worth watching, even for non-basketball fans

The ESPN 10-part documentary series (now on Netflix) The Last Dance (2020, Jason Hehir, dir.) follow the entire career of the greatest basketball player ever, Michael Jackson, from his childhood sports through h.s. (where he did no excel) and 3 years of college, where he blossomed in a way almost supernatural, to his 1990s years with the Chicago Bulls, including two streaks of 3 NBA titles in a row (Repeat Threepeat). It’s important to say off the bat, to mix sports metaphors, that this isn’t a series only for basketball fans; all viewers can watch with amazement and wonder at MJ’s dominant skills in ever facet of the game, physical and mental. We also get to see in detail – Hehir uses archival footage from 7 seasons of Bulls basketball (6 titles, one setback) + MJ’s peculiar desire to play professional baseball – an episode that showed how hard it is to excel at baseball no matter what your strength and agility would suggest. Equally, we see what it’s like to play as, and with, a man entirely focused on winning at just about any cost; one of the funniest lines in the series: Coach to MJ: There is no I in team. MJ: There’s an I in win! And we see the pressure and demands of life as a world-famous athlete, with not a moment it seems of shelter or privacy, whose every word and gesture is recorded and studied as if it’s an utterance from the Torah. It’s amazing in some ways what a difficult and troubled guy MJ was, at least at times, and just as amazing that he seemed somehow able always to control his emotions – no blasts at the media, always patient, always aware of his role and responsibility as a leader. Hehir et al do a fine job moving along two plot lines: the 5 seasons leading up to 1998, and the final season, the Last Dance, because for some reason the mercurial GM determined that the Bulls would rebuilt in 99, w/ or w/out MJ. The series touches on a # of conflicts and spats along the way – notably Pippin’s refusal to play the final seconds of a key game, MJ punching the diminutive Kerr in the face during practice, the antics of Rodman; plus, some key, strange events in MJ’s life: the murder of his father, which devastated MJ, the raised eyebrows about his gambling, his apparent food poisoning the night before a playoff finals game. Though MJ and numerous others were extremely forthcoming w/ the present-day interviews, we see little to nothing about MJ’s family life today or ever – obviously part of the deal to gain his cooperation in this series. Worth watching!

A movie that promises way more than it can deliver: The Vast of Night

Andrew Patterson’s 2019 film, The Vast of Night (now on Prime), is a movie of high ambition and showcases some fine young talent but overall the film is a mess and a major disappointment. On the plus side: Patterson does a good job w/ eerie limited-light cinematography, w/ lots of low-to-the-ground tracking shots as we follow the two young protagonists along the twilight and nighttime half-deserted streets of their small New Mexico town; everything is lonely and deserted and eerie, as most of the town is in the h.s. at a basketball game. The two leads – played w/ some nice panache by Jake Horowitz and Sierra McCormick – are aspiring broadcast journalists: The guy works night shift at the town’s only radio station and the girl, still in h.s., moonlights running the town switchboard (the film is set in the ‘50s, and the switchboard is needed for all phone connections). OK, I rarely give up key plot points and spoilers, but there’s no other way to talk about this film, w/ its hint of a plot and its major letdowns. As the 2 protagonists, Everett and Fay, begin their shift, Fay receives phone calls w/ strange musical sounds; she calls Everett and asks him to listen – and he broadcasts the sounds. This leads to two calls: A man calls the station and tells them that these sounds emanate from a secret military sight he’d been assigned to build while in the service (only soldiers of color were given his dangerous duty, he says). Then a woman calls the station and, in essence, tells them that the sound is a signal from a UFO that had visited the town years ago and abducted her son; she wants to back to where she believes this UFO hovers so that she can be abducted and join her son. Got it? Well, that’s it! There’s no mystery, no ambiguity, no skepticism, no fear, no explanation, no plot twist – nothing. It’s just a visualization of what the supposed UFO sights in NM (and the secret alleged military sights in Nev.) might look like. Questions are neither raised nor answered: why here, why now, why did nobody know about the past visits – this list could go on. Not to mention, though I will mention, what about the absurd plot dynamics? For example, both Everett and Fay leave their posts and go off to interview, at some length, this woman with the UFO tale. Would they leave the station and the switchboard unattended in order to hear out the most unlikely and unhinged of narratives? Any film on this topic, I believe, has to give us a vision or who the “aliens” might be, if they are real at all, and how their presence, or rumored presence, affects the life of a community. This movie promises way more that it can or wishes to deliver.

A funny and fun film that just misses on greatness: A Taxing Woman

Juzo Itami’s 1987 film (writer and director) A Taxing Woman is a nearly great film; it has so many winning qualities, but JI just was not able to maintain in the second half of the film the surprising, witty, and lively tone of the first half. The film stars the wonderful Nobuko Niyamoto as Ryoko, a examiner and auditor for the Japanese tax bureau. Her role, which she takes on with deadly devotion, is to ferret out small-business tax scheme; in the first part of the film we see her take down a few schemers through her intelligence and unflappable fortitude: She’s great at what she does, but we feel sorry for the tax cheats she uncovers, most of them small business people struggling along. She soon suspects another potential target when she spots a Rolls Royce parked in front of a somewhat rundown apartment complex and “love hotel,” and this sets her off on the sometimes dangerous pursuit of a crew of mobsters. OK, so what we love about the film from the start is Ryoko’s intelligence and devotion, but in the 2^nd half the movie loses much of its mojo as JI gets way too tied up in the intricasy of the tax scam, and Ryoko, now just one of many in pursuit of the evil (though soft-hearted – building a crush on Ryoko!) mobster Gondo, and Royoko is a minor player in the game. Itami, wisely, brings Ryoko back to the fore at the conclusion, but it felt to me as if this was a great in some ways film that couldn’t get out of the way of its cumbersome plot. Special note, however, on the excellent, lively score, ranging from contemporary (ca 1987) jazz to a Phillip Glass-type contemporary-classical motif.

A parody of a familiar genre: Knives Out

Rian Johnson’s Knives Out (2019) is a send-up/parody of the British-style/Agatha C-mode murder mystery, with the mysterious murder – or was it a suicide? – of a world-famous, tremendously wealthy mystery writer Harlan Thronby (Christopher Plummer), who dies on his 85^th birthday as all of his extended family members and servants are present for the celebratory party and all have some kind of motif for wanting the cantankerous patriarch dead (mostly because he announced to various family members, on the morning of the gathering, that he was cutting them off in his will). Enter a “world-famous” detective (profiled in the New Yorker!), played by Daniel Craig doing his best to channel Kevin Spacey’s Underwood Southernisms (a failure – they should have had an American actor or just let Craig speak in his own voice). Your enjoyment of the movie will depend largely on how much you like the genre-under-review, as Knives Out has a plot line so elaborate and improbable as to be nothing but comic. The heart of the story is Ana de Armas’s portrayal of Harlan’s loyal and devoted nurse, named the benefactor in Harlan’s will, which of course suggests that she had something to do w/ his sudden demise, which in fact she did – but is she guilty? The movie has plenty of action and nuances and, unusual for a murder mystery, actually will hold your attention for its 2+-hour length, but for me, ultimately, it was neither fish nor foul so to speak: Not satisfying as an old-fashioned who-dunnit, nor funny enough as a send-up to make it worth a pandemic evening of my time.

Excellent re-creation of the 1993 FBI attack on the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas

The 2018 (Netflix) series Waco (John Erick and Drew Dowdle) is a surprisingly thoughtful and multifaceted re-creation of the horrendous 1993 ATF/FBI raid on the Branch Davidian complex. What makes the series work so well is its double vision: Some seen from inside the complex, where some 130 people had settled under the dubious reign of David Koresh (Taylor Kitsch), a self-described prophet and savior, based on his interpretations of the various signs in the Book of Revelations (this material based on a memoir by one of the few survivors, David Thibodeau (Rory Culkin); others seen from the POV of the FBI crisis/hostage negotiator, Gary Noesner (Michael Shannon) who struggled over nearly 2 months trying to negotiate a peaceful surrender (based on Noesner’s memoirs). The Dowdle team does a great job in building the drama and tension and in the spectacular and terrifying re-creation of the eventual government shootout and attack. They build our sympathy, or at least our understanding, of both sides and are unequivocal in their contempt for the FBI over-reaction at the well-known tragic conclusion; I would say that they went a little too easy on the Davidians themselves – Koresh, of course, is depicted as a completely deranged and power-hungry fanatic, quite accurately I suspect, but the followers themselves are portrayed as sweet and angelic and completely harmless, which I found hard to believe – though they were by no means deserving of tragic fate.

The eerie and mysterious short film from the 80s by Sara Driver

Sara Driver’s 1981 (debut?) film, You Are Not I, a little to short to be a feature but too brief (49 minutes) to be a short subject, defies classification in many ways. It’s sometimes called a horror film, a study in character, an experimental work, a literary homage, and it’s all of those things as well as rating high on the creepiness scale. It’s not a great film – it looks and feels in many ways like a grad-student project, which maybe it was: just a few actors w/ speaking parts, very few settings, dialog mostly taken, I assume, directly from the source material (a short story by Paul Bowles), yet there’s something about the film that transcends its short-comings. In fact, the roughness of the film adds to the aura: It’s clearly low-budget, evoking the look and feel of classic low-rent horror. In short, the story line such as it is: A young woman wanders off the grounds of what we later learn to be a mental institution; she seems to take advantage of the confusion caused by a major car accident (some of the footage show incredible plumes of black smoke from one of the cars – not sure how that was shot or staged, or if it were serendipitous, at least for Driver) and leaves the grounds of the institution (after stopping to gaze at the bodies in body bags – and putting stones in the mouths of the dead!). The woman gets a ride to her sister’s how, somewhere in the countryside maybe 50 miles or so away (seems to be short in northernmost New Jersey), and her sister is quite clearly upset by this burden showing up unannounced, and she arranges for hospital attendants to come by and re-claim their patient. Things don’t work out as planned (no spoilers). Much of story is told by the lead actor, Suzanne Fletcher, in a lugubrious voice-over; when others speak, their voices are weirdly amplified, and we sense that this is how the narrator experiences the voices of others. The film is shot (by the now-famous director Jim Jarmusch) in extremely grainy b/w, which gives the whole enterprise the look of a found object from a much earlier period. I wouldn’t make too great a claim for the film – it does not seem to be a message film for women’s rights or the rights of those w/ mental illness – but it does grip you and give you a sense of the world as seen and lived by the troubled and disturbed.

A Czech New Wave film that has some cringe-worthy moments but also much hilarity

Milos Forman’s The Firemen’s Ball (1967), one of his Czech movies, before he emigrated to the U.S. and did many successful and intelligent blockbuster movies (e.g., One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest) is still worth watching in many ways, but beware – it’s also a period of its time and place and as such is sometimes cringeworthy in its treatment of young women. The entire film centers on the eponymous ball/fundraiser and the troupe of firefighters who “organize” and run the festive event; the first scene involves an extensive discussion among the firefighters’ executive-board members regarding a gift to be bestowed on their retired president – and most of the rest of the movie takes place at the ball itself. And much of the movie is hilarious. But some of the humor involves the firefighters – all of them older men – seeking among the crowd of guests 8 young women to vie for the title of queen of the ball. Their treatment of the women, and their self-imposed mission of judging the young women on the basis of their looks, is disturbing and out of place today – yet, I must say, the resolution of this absurd beauty contest is quite lovely and funny and it pretty much exonerates the old fools running the show. In fact, the firefighters can’t seem to get anything right, including fighting a fire, which I think was a brave thing for Forman to dramatize: I imagine that any critique of uniformed officers came about as close as possible in the Cold War days to a critique of the government and of the Soviet control of the government; I believe most Czech viewers, though maybe not the Soviet censors, got the point. That said, the movie has so many fantastic scenes shot during the ball – notably the rumpus around the lottery and its “prizes,” the constant squabbling among the firefighters and the various spouses and guests, the beautiful sense of a crowd in constant motion to the nearly nonstop band music, the funny argument early on as one of the men struggles high on a ladder to hang a banner, and the crisis that erupts when the men realize there’s a house on fire in town. All told, a very funny and charming movie that, in the end, outweighs some of its inbred misogyny.

The Baldwin documentary I Am Not Your Negro is timely, timeless

The 2016 Raoul Peck documentary, I Am Not Your Negro, is of course timely – and also timeless. I have to say that the concept wasn’t to me, at first, promising: A documentary about black lives in the U.S. built around a Samuel L. Jackson reading of the manuscript for an unfinished James Baldwin book. It seemed as if it would be a jumble of ideas loosely linked, and that the unfinished project (Remember This House) was probably left unfinished for a reason. But – not so. First of all the book project – initially planned as a detailed look at the assassination of 3 great Black leaders, ML King, Medgar Evers, Malcolm X – is perhaps even more powerful in its truncated for, very much a personal essay about Baldwin himself and his lifetime struggle against racism and hatred, touching on the murder of these 3 men, each of whom he knew, without going into great detail about the circumstances of their deaths. Even more, Peck builds out the Baldwin essay/Jackson reading into a serious, sorrowful, frightful look at the roots and branches of racism in the U.S., including images of Blacks in movies, advertising, dance and music, as well as streets protests, marches, so-called race riots, and, most moving and scary (to me) the horrifying footage of the brave Black Americans, especially school children, who put their lives at risk to break down barriers to integration and acceptance, particularly in the South the the 1950s and 60s. (The faces of the angry white cowards and bullies who tormented these brave souls look ominously familiar today.) And of course Peck also uses some great footage of Baldwin himself, including his famous appearance on the Dick Cavett Show at which he eviscerated a foolish if well-meaning Yale professor who wondered why Baldwin talks to much about race – Can’t we all just get along? – and also Baldwin’s landmark appearances at the Cambridge University Debate forum in which Baldwin lays out the causes and the necessary response to racism in America, earning a prolonged standing ovation.

Impossible to overstate the case for Hamilton

I guess it’s impossible to over-state the case for Hamilton, and what a bargain to watch the original-cast film on DisneyPlus for just $7. All of the hype and anticipation is justified; this is just probably the greatest Broadway play of all time and the most exciting, imaginative, informative, and moving theatrical production most of us will ever see. Start w/ the sheer audacity and brilliance of telling the life story of the till-then little known “Founding Father,” Alexander Hamilton, known to most as the face on the $10 and as, yawn, the firsts secretary of the treasury (all chronicled in the source book by Ron Chernow) and to do the show in period dress but with multi-racial cast and scored almost entirely to a rap/hip–hop beat. The concept seems almost laughably impossible at first, but you’re brought into the show in the first 30 seconds, if you had any doubt. Huge props to creator/writer/director/co-producer/star Lin-Manuel Miranda, whose score/book is rich with imagery, surprising rhymes and riffs, totally engrossing from the first moments through to the mournful (and then uplifting) final moments. The songs are great, the choreography and staging likewise, and the plot surprisingly engrossing, as we get caught up on (and informed about) the life and times of prominent Americans during the Revolution and in the years toward the formation of the Constitution and the first presidencies. Sure, this could be boring and pedantic, but LMM makes the show lively, provocative, and always on edge – we’re brought into the historical realities, and then constantly reminded that this show, with Latino Hamilton and w/ Black actors as Washington, Jefferson, Lafayette, Burr, et al. is a re-imagining with messages for today about our multiracial society and its failure still to make good on the optimism and promises of the first heady days of revolution, independence, and self-governance. Do I have any quibbles? Yeah, I guess: Hamilton’s wife, Eliza, has a really sweet voice, but she’s too often overwhelmed by the lively orchestration. Otherwise, a totally captivating and enjoyable show, which most of us will want to see at least one more time before signing off from the weird DisneyPlus service (which, inexplicably, at the conclusion of the show but up a screen saying that “because you liked Hamilton” I would probably next want to watch The Sound of Music. Say, what?)

A Mike Leigh film w/ a strong, disturbed central character but a mess of a plot

One of the early films from the under-appreciated British director Mike Leigh, Naked (1993), is worth a look mainly for the knockout performance of David Thewlis as Johnny, a highly intelligent and seriously disturbed young man who over the course of the 48 hours that the film encompasses has many strange interactions with mostly homeless/lonely/impoverished/dangerous/nocturnal Londoners. In each of these encounters Johnny puts up a wall of verbal banter and peculiar ideation that always, eventually, leads to some violent outburst, either by Johnny or directed at him. Altogether, though, I consider this film one of the rare misfires from Leigh; in this instance, his famous way or working – letting the characters and even the plot develop through a many improvisational exercises in which the actors create their characters – seems to lead the film into some blind alleys and not so much moral ambiguity and more incongruity. At the outset we see Johnny raping a young woman in an alleyway (never clear whether he knew the woman), then stealing a car to make a getaway (in a nice touch, he dumps a baby carriage out of the car – as if he didn’t want to inconvenience the victim’s family too much) and takes off from Manchester to London, where he shows up unannounced at the house of a former girlfriend and immediately gets sexually involved w/ the sexy and obviously deeply troubled roommate. Over the course of the film – once he’s kicked out of the domicile – he has strange encounters with among others a night watchman, a man who puts up wall posters (“a stick-up job,” Johnny quips), a homeless man who’s calling out for his girlfriend, et al. What’s troubling is that we want to feel sympathy for Johnny, and we admire his stunted intelligence, but then we see how violent and cruel he can be toward women and we despise him – but does it all make sense? Do we believe in him? Perhaps to make Johnny seem more humane, there’s a much less developed parallel story (the plots strands merge near the end) about a wealthy businessman who is brutally cruel to a # of women, a much more deranged and dangerous man than Johnny, so does his make prefer J as the less evil? To me, it just confused the whole story line – as if Leigh let these actors develop their characters at will without pulling the strands together into a sensible, comprehensible plot.

New production of Midsummer Night's Dream among the most enteraining Shakespeare production

Nicholas Hytner’s Bridge Theatre (London) production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream has to go down as one of the most entertaining, exciting, and imaginative productions of this play, in fact of any Shakespeare comedy, in decades (it’s only obvious point of comparison is the famous Peter Brook production). The Hytner/Bridge show, staged in what looks like a sports arena and performed on a set of highly mobile mini-stages (each the size of a boxing ring perhaps?) and marked by amazing acrobatics – Puck really does seem to live aloft – much like Cirque de Soleil meets Shakespeare. The ensemble cast, with some doubling roles, not only manages the sometimes complex dialog and staging – these are the typically well-versed in classics British actors – but also manages some rocking musical #s and some beautiful and complex dance moves as well. It’s obvious throughout that the audience – some of whom are drawn into the production in surprising ways  - is having a great time (I saw the production on YouTube, a two-day run – not sure if or when it will be available again on film/streaming), and the actors as well. You could not help but be caught up in this performance (which reminded M and me of a London production of a Mystery Play that we saw many years ago that drew the entire audience into the show, as if we were in a medieval village). But there’s more to the show than the pyrotechnics, acrobatics, poetics, slapstick humor, and the occasional anachronism, which always draws a laugh; Hytner has re-imagined (and re-assigned) some of the key plot elements to give the play a contemporary view of sexual desire; the show is not just about two couples gone awry but about a # of possible sexual match-ups happening in the woods outside of Athens (that is to say, anywhere). Hard to single out any one actor for special praise, but Hammed Animashaun plays Bottom for all he’s worth and David Moorst is an astonishingly agile Puck.