Baby Driver: Carefree Enjoyment, Demanded at Gunpoint

Baby Driver: Carefree Enjoyment, Demanded at Gunpoint

There’s this dog my housemate owns. His name is Charlie, and he’s really a lovely pet. He’s sweet, fluffy, nothing but good intentions. He also has the capacity to be the most annoying Golden Retriever this side of California.

Every time I go to do laundry, there he is. He bounces up to me with a soggy, half-torn chew toy in his mouth, panting expectantly, eyes wide. Clearly, there’s nothing more he’d like than for me to take it, and nothing more I’d like than to take it, except for the small matter of him not letting go of the damn toy, no matter how long I stand there as he whines. It makes every laundry trip an exhibition of existential depression as I have to confront Charlie, who is trying so hard to do one thing and failing, making everyone around him either exasperated or uncomfortable.

Seeing Baby Driver is a lot like visiting Charlie.

Fast and Furious, No Longer the Right Kind of Mess

Fast and Furious, No Longer the Right Kind of Mess

Charlize Theron and Helen Mirren star in Fast and Furious 8—two actresses, who, between them, hold 4 Oscar nominations and 2 wins. It is a degree of prestige the Fast films have not seen before, so why does it feel like the beginnings of a last wheeze? In this latest entry in the protracted franchise, Theron plays Cipher, a villainous hacker figure who forces Dominic Toretto (the chronically stoic Vin Diesel) into her service against his own merry band of street-racers-turned-criminals-turned-international-mercenaries. Mirren plays the mother of Deckard Shaw—or, as he will more likely be remembered, Jason Statham—the man who killed Han, one of Diesel’s accomplices, in Furious 7, Furious 6, and, retroactively, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. The series sounds like a mess because it is one; until now, though, it has felt rare and lively, something that cannot be said the eighth time around...

John Wick 2: Humanity, Off-Camera on a Smoking Break

John Wick 2: Humanity, Off-Camera on a Smoking Break

The climactic gunfight of John Wick: Chapter Two takes place in a labyrinth of mirrors, an art exhibition in New York. Having been dragged (away from playing fetch with his dog and seeing perfunctory flashbacks of his dead wife) back into a comical underworld of assassins—again—Wick, in a turn of events that will surprise no one, now hunts down the man who brought him back. We see Keanu Reeves as Wick enter, our view of him steady and focused as mirrored doors close behind him, bathed in cold blue light. Opposing mirrors make Wick appear to stretch into infinite (and infinitely diminishing) copies in the background, receding into itself and into insularity. Reeves’ reflections are an infinite number of points in a nerve-rackingly enclosed space. Is this a comment by Chad Stahelski and Derek Kolstad, the director and writer of John Wick: Chapter Two, respectively, on the necessarily diminishing returns of a sequel to such a complete first film? ...

Force Majeure and the Claustrophobia of Marriage

Force Majeure and the Claustrophobia of Marriage

From the very first shots of Force Majeure, we are in an unrelievable tension. After an awkward, prolonged photo shoot of a family on holiday—Tomas, Ebba, and their children Harry and Vera—we are introduced to the ski resort they are staying at. Not with shots of the slopes, however—painting it as a snowy Arcadia—but with the machinery, the human construction, a merely functional slope guide displaying in a cheerfully bright yet authoritative, cold and electronic message, “BIENVENUE.” The hospitality is appreciated, yet somehow one is not inclined to take it to heart...

La La Land, a Modern Movie Musical -- or Not

La La Land, a Modern Movie Musical -- or Not

It starts with a green light in the room. The feeling, or really, for any experienced moviegoer, the certainty that these two, Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, are not going to be together much longer. After a near-painfully protracted meet-cute spanning a third of the film, and a giddy montage showing just how happy this aspiring actress and jazz pianist are together, we see Mia (Stone), come home to Sebastian (Gosling) playing the piano in an eerie, cold, green light, reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz.  He starts to play a longing tune, what has come to be one of “their” songs. She smiles, the green shades draining the color from her light purple dress, and starts to sing. The song is warm, but the light is cold, and we know—it’s about that time in the film for these two to separate, only to come together at the end. Or will they? That feeling, that loss will not only be threatened but truly occur, is the heart of La La Land. For how do we appreciate a memory unless it is in the past? ...

Well Hello There

Welcome to my weird blog on movies, games, and whatever I feel like writing about! I write in each category at least once a week. My interests are... interdisciplinary, to say the least, so the way I see it, there's something for everyone even if some*one* does not like every*thing*. If that makes sense. It also serves as something of a portfolio, with links to some of my work, both casual and more time consuming -- screenplays, film critiques, my casual yet somehow *utterly time consuming* Twitch stream for video games  -- it's all here.

Thank you for visiting, and I hope you enjoy reading my thoughts as much as I enjoy sharing them. Cheers!

-Ari