52 Pick-Up # 34 – Sound of Metal (2019)

Welcome back once again as August comes to a photo finish for 52 Pick-Up.

The timing wasn't how I would have wanted it, but I can't pretend the lineup wasn't strong at least. With that in mind, I can't say we're closing out the month with a happy ending, but it's at least going to be a little more upbeat than last entry would have been.

This is another that has been on my list that also falls under 'escaped my Oscar to do list' the year it came out. In hindsight, I'm still surprised I put this one off this long, particularly as Riz Ahmed has been one of those actors I've been interested in the career arc for since Nightcrawler, and it's great to see him get a lead role like this and carry it as well as he does.

But, I get ahead of myself. Let's go for the pitch, shall we?

Sound of Metal follows Ahmed as Ruben, a drummer performing as part of a metal act with his girlfriend, Lou (Olivia Cooke.) The couple are touring as Ruben notices he's having troubles with his hearing. On performing some tests, it is confirmed this is not a temporary condition. In fact, his doctors advise him to avoid loud noises in order to preserve the hearing he still has while he works out his next plans. For Ruben, the solution is in the form of cochlear implants that can aid with his hearing, but are outside of his ability to afford. As he tries to maintain his life as it was before the loss, and starts showing signs of relapsing behavior to former addictions, Lou becomes worried and gets him in touch with a shelter specifically for deaf addicts. There, a reluctant Ruben is introduced to Joe (Paul Raci) a gruff, but empathetic veteran who runs the shelter and wants to help Ruben learn to adjust to the changes in his life, even if Ruben is still determined to get back to his old life.

That last part is one of the things that really got me on this watch. The way this movie presents Ruben and how he's processing what he's going through isn't a clean, feel good journey. He frequently butts up against what is becoming an increasing inevitability, often leading to less than admirable actions. Despite this, the movie doesn't actively paint him as a bad guy any more than it presents him as saintly. It's a very flawed, human look at how people can process something as big as the idea of 'your body is changing in a way that will alter how you live your life from this day forward.' Conversely, the movie is also very sympathetic in how it presents those around Ruben. Both Lou and Joe are presented as people who the movie makes clear genuinely do care about Ruben's well-being, even if they don't share his drive for getting the implants. 

Additionally, the implants are another area where the movie presents a welcome nuance. We see how early on Ruben's life is built around sound and his music, so we get why he doesn't want to give up on hearing. At the same time, the movie, through Joe and his shelter, does help show that a changed life isn't the same thing as a ruined or lost life. Even as Ruben still pursues the implants, at times doing things that make him a more checkered protagonist, we see him living around both the recovering addicts and deaf children (who Ruben learns ASL alongside) and seeing that they are still living full, regular lives.

In coming to this off of In the Bedroom, there was the half in jest question of if this was going to be a mood lift or a similar downer. The answer in this case is – a little of both. Ultimately, the movie comes to a better place by the end, and that final scene is one I can tell is going to stay with me in a good way, but it is also a very bittersweet movie in a number of ways. For as messy as Ruben's journey is at times, and the mistakes he makes, ultimately he ends the movie in a positive place after some of rough patches he took getting there. It sounds odd to put into words, but there is something refreshing about seeing a movie approach this from that nuanced area where you can sympathize both with wanting to hear and also with recognizing it's okay to come to terms with this change.

Also, before I finish this, I do have to say one more thing – VERY well earned Oscar win for the sound design on this. Seeing the movie adjusting the sound to reflect how Ruben is hearing things at points, to further underscore how this is effecting him, is a great aspect to this movie both as an idea and in its execution, and I'm pleased to see it got acknowledged. Best Sound can be a real weird category some years where, to borrow a statement have heard from others, it can be less a case of 'best' and more a case of 'most.' With this in mind, this is one where I'm glad the craft was recognized and how much the movie is enhanced sometimes by the choice of when not to use sound as much as when to use it.

Yeah, not quite part of my main point, but I did want to give the shout out. Seriously, the movie is all around a strong entry in terms of script, performances, and direction, but the sound really does some spectacular work adding to those elements. 

If you missed this one when it came out, I'd recommend seeking it out.

And with that, I'm back on track as September rolls in.

So, next week I'm kicking off a new month with a long overdue entry, both as a movie and for a lead performer I'm surprised I have not had come up here yet. Until next time with 2003's American Splendor.

Till then

52 Pick-Up #33 – In the Bedroom (2001)

Welcome back to 52 Pick-Up in the middle of a Dog Days of Summer wrap-up before resuming the weekly rollout again in September.

Ah, end of summer. A magical time as the season starts to change, things start to cool and people are getting their last vacations and hurrahs in before fall starts and it's back to business.

And what has the shuffle chosen for this period in the season?

Oh.

Oh dear.

I mean, this is damn good, but tonally oh dear.

If there's one thing I have learned from this project for future use it's maybe seeing about trying to curate these pools a bit per time of year. Still try to keep them big enough for proper chance, but at least try and focus generally.

Okay, total disclosure – I will be doing a weighted month coming up, but there's no real points for guessing which month or in what way cause it'll be pretty obvious when it gets here.

ANYWAY, larger arc of the month aside, this is one of those that's been on my to do list for a long time. Like I said last time, I missed this at the time as I was, I will admit, not as good with keeping up with a lot of the awards circuit releases in the early aughts. From there, it occasionally flitted its way back up to the surface as a 'I should get to that' before fully locking itself back on there a few years back with the release of Tár and reviewing Todd Field's short, but impressive directorial list.

With that as a point of reference, and a loose idea of this movie's inciting incident, I went in actively trying to know as little as possible. With that in mind, it was hard not to get at least some expectations given the nature of the story.

I say this purely to add that I was pleasantly surprised when this movie actually eluded and/or exceeded my expectations on several levels. One of which is the main point I'll be going with for this.

But, before I get into that, let's start with the pitch.

In the Bedroom follows the Fowlers, a family in Maine consisting of Matt (Tom Wilkinson), Ruth (Sissy Spacek), and their adult son Frank (Nick Stahl.) Nick is back home for the summer following college and gearing up for grad school. This path, however, is left in doubt as Frank has fallen hard for for Natalie (Marisa Tomei), an older, divorced woman with two kids and a husband who isn't ready to let things go. The family is torn on how to feel on this as both Ruth and Matt discuss if this is just a phase or if they need to put their foot down. Unfortunately, as they discuss this, Natalie's ex begins becoming more violent, finally culminating in a confrontation with Frank that leaves the younger man dead.

This is all in roughly the first act of the movie, by the way, so don't worry about that as spoiler. It's the inciting incident more than anything and the bulk of the movie is more dedicated to the family processing everything that happened and how they choose to process and act on their grief.

Like I said above, I was very pleasantly surprised by this movie against what I was expecting. I had overall good expectations, but again, this actually went beyond what I was hoping for, in large part on the basis of the execution.

Between this and Tár, one thing I find myself appreciating in Field's work as a director is the sense of restraint in how things are presented. This is a story that deals with a number of emotionally heavy subjects, and especially given this was a film that became a major acting contender with the Oscars that year, it's hard not to expect the archetypal 'big' performances the Academy often goes for. Instead, this movie, and its leads, are built around a very emotionally restrained approach. 

Even before tragedy strikes, both Matt and Ruth are reluctant to be up front with Frank about their misgivings about his relationship and where they see it going. For Ruth, this leads to being very guarded and cut off, while Matt keeps being reluctantly indulgent in Frank, assuming this will all work itself out. When everything finally goes wrong, both are unclear how to approach one another over what happened. Even the moment when they finally come to a confrontation is not presented as a screaming match or a big blow out – in fact, there's even some acknowledgment that they can't seem to have the big blow out moment and that this is something of a frustration. That it's presented instead as two people who, even in grief and anger, feel they have to somehow hold back makes it feel even more powerful. What is two people pouring their hearts out about the pain they've internalized still has to be held back in how they express it just by their very natures.

The restraint also plays into the overall direction of the movie. Beyond the performances, the way the movie handles several of its major action beats is very controlled. Frank's two encounters with Natalie's ex-husband, for example, rely on what is unseen. The first of these we only see in the aftermath, care of the bruises Frank has from the confrontation. Their subsequent moment we only get in voices from another room, the emotional heft of the scene in Tomei's fear and then anguish as she hears it all play out.

These combined degrees of restraint are each effective on their own. Combined, they lead to a genuinely chilling payoff in the movie's final act. I won't go into too much detail on this here, tempted as I am. What I will say is there is no grand twist to come from this. There isn't any single revelation that completely upends the movie. There is some degree of uncertainty to which path it is going down, but it is not an ending that is made or broken by the reveal. But even with that said, it's still more effective if you don't know the way and just let the movie lead you their at its own slow, careful pace, steeping in the uncertainty of what is coming and how it gets there.

That uncertainty is also one of the feelings that resonates the most when the movie ends. Again, there is no big shock to be had here. When everything unfolds, it makes sense and feels reasonable as a course of events, but in the end, it doesn't feel neat or convenient. There's a lot that feels unresolved or unclear.

This is by design. This isn't a subject one can wrap up and put away. The audience, like Matt and Ruth, are going to be left to process just what happened after what should be a 'the end' moment. The story is over, but the feeling remains.

Hell, I feel like this is gonna be one of the first time watches from this that is gonna stick with me longer than most, and I am glad that it got drawn for this.

With that, the end of August is coming up fast and I've got one more on deck to go.

This will likely be a less haunting watch, but also connected as an Oscar nominee. I'll be jumping ahead a decade and change for 2019's Sound of Metal.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up # 32 – Mandabi (1968)

Back already?
 

Sorry. Had to. Like I said before, this is on me.

Anyway, welcome back to 52 Pick-Up as I work on getting caught up for the month of August now that things are winding down for the season.

Like I said last time, thanks to the will of shuffle, we're going in a different direction from last week. A different time, a different place, a different language.

But, the quality remains good, if slightly less feel good compared to last time. That's colonialism for you.

As promised before, this time I'm coming back to the films of Ousmane Sembène for the first time since watching Black Girl for the first time several years back. This time, in his follow up movie, he takes a bit more of a comedic tone, but his view of colonization is no less favorable in Mandabi.

In going into the pitch for this, I'll start with a quick note – the title of this movie translates to 'The Money Order.' The titular order being received by one Ibrahima (Makhourédia Guèye), a proud patriarch to two wives and seven children. The order comes from his his nephew working abroad, sending 25,000 francs he has earned to be divided among the family. Things are looking up for Ibrahima and his clan – until he goes to cash it and finds he's being declined because he lacks valid identification (and to add complications to getting one, he is illiterate). What follows is a bureaucratic labyrinth as Ibrahima tries to get all his paperwork in order so he can get the money order cashed before too much time passes and the money goes back to his nephew. All the while dealing with various debts being either called in or accumulating as he tries to get this all sorted out and settled up.

Why yes, this DID feel more than a little sadly familiar over half a century and half a world away, but that wasn't really the intent of the movie, so I will defer there.

There's a number of things this movie is commenting on, but in particular the way Sembène frames postcolonial Senegal here was the one that really hit me. Like last entry, this gave me something of a compare and contrast feeling, but in this case it was to Sembène's earlier movie, Black Girl. The similarity is, admittedly, more in the broad strokes already stated, this is definitely commenting on the impact of how colonialism has effected Senegal and the people there. The big differences come in how it's presented here.

For starters, Ibrahima is a different sort of focus compared to Diouana. Where she is taken out of her element and on the short end of the power dynamics, Ibrahima comes into this in more of a position of relative power. He even seems aware of this himself, as a recurring element of his character is in how he postures and adjusts his robes. This is a man who's used to calling the shots within his walk of life, and even moreso with the prospect of the financial windfall to come. Despite having more going for him, Ibrahima isn't any luckier when the dust settles. Diouana is left isolated and ultimately crushed by a world that is uncaring and unfamiliar. Ibrahima, meanwhile, watches as the world he's been so confident in is ultimately twisted against him as he finds himself repeatedly being out done by pencil pushers, debt collectors, and ultimately his own nephew (not the same nephew as before).

In Ibrahima's case, it's hard not to see the influence of France's colonization in his misery. Yes, it technically provided the initial good fortune as it was his nephew working in France that saved up the money, but it's also their systems that we see bogging everything down in bureaucracy at every turn. It's their influence we see in moments like Ibrahima watching government workers discussing the merits of living on credit bolstered by other credit. It's even that colonial influence in the form of nephew Mbaye, dressed in stylish European attire, who ultimately swindles his uncle.

By the end, I was still feeling the compare and contrast, particularly in the ways both of these movies, whether expressly or just as a result of how they're presented, seem to be targeting part of their message specifically at the colonial element of the audience. In the case of Black Girl, it came across as more explicitly damning – a reminder that some money or an apology can't undo lives destroyed by careless or outright malicious intentions of colonial power. In the case of Mandabi, it reads less as a 'this isn't something you can magically wipe away' and more presenting this morass of bureaucracy, debt hustling, usury and straight up 'everyone for themselves' betrayal and seeming to ask 'This is the civilizing you're so proud to have done?'

I have to admit, I'm still wondering how much of that particular tone was intentional and how much was me reading in more here based on my one prior encounter with Sembène. In the meantime, as I turn this over, it's giving me more incentive to keep an eye out for more of his movies. So far he's two for two and I am intrigued to see more.

But, that will have to be for another time. The days roll on and I've got two more titles left to close out August, which means another week of catch up before I'm back to the regular schedule.

So, I hope you all have a good weekend, and I'll be back here early next week with a movie that's been among the gaps I've been filling from before I really went out of the way to check out the Oscar heavies ahead of the big night. In this case, Todd Field's In the Bedroom.

Till then.

52 Pick-Up # 31 – Velvet Goldmine (1998)

Welcome back to 52 Pick Up.

First up, I'd like to extend an apology for the delay on this one. This summer has had some unexpectedly busy spikes off and on, particularly as planning with family went and it wound up catching up with me.

With that said, consider this the start of a catch up run of multiple entries in short succession to get back up to speed.

So, without further ado...

I had considered a number of tasteful ways to start this entry up.

Considered, and then realized I couldn't not do this instead - 

Well, Uncharted Waters is over. It's been a good run. But though the John Waters films may be done in this project, their spirit lives on in other filmmakers' ambition, creativity, and in cases such as today's full frontal nudity.

I know, that's not the primary point for this movie. In fact, there's a lot to recommend in this movie in general. This is just one where I had to make some joking acknowledgment of this, given how several people, including my wife who referred to herself as a 'pervert gremlin teenager' (her words) came to this movie – the promise of being part of Ewan McGregor's early cinematic reputation for dropping trou.

I'm sure there's a weirder way to set up that this week's entry is for Todd Haynes's Velvet Goldmine, but damned if I know it.

But, as I said before, this is a movie that has a lot more going for it beyond the notable celebrity nudity, though if that's your thing, yes, it is here. For my part, as someone who had known Haynes before this for his Sirk-coded Far From Heaven and 2023's May December, the idea of him taking on the glam rock era had me intrigued. It also has me realizing I need to see more of his movies, but that's for another time.

For today, let's get to the pitch.

The movie starts us with an introduction to the very theatrical (and yes, very David Bowie-coded) glam rock artist Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) an artist on a meteoric rise that culminated one night at a fateful concert where he predicted he would be assassinated. From there, the movie jumps in time and perspective to the 1980s and journalist Arthur (Christian Bale), a man who was among those following the glam movement Slade was part of – so much so that he witnessed the notorious concert in the prologue, where the attack was revealed to be a staged publicity stunt that effectively destroyed Slade's career. Years later, Arthur has been given an assignment to try and find out just what happened to the embattled singer following his disappearance from public life. What follows is a movie very much in a vein akin to Citizen Kane, as Arthur learns more of the story of the real Slade from the singer's ex-wife (Toni Collette) and his manager (Michael Feast.)

In terms of what stuck out for me, the Kane comparison was a big point – less so for the parts that are similar as the areas where Haynes differs and how that works to this movie's benefit. Both start, as established above, in a similar area – a fictional figure of fame overtly inspired by a real life individual (in this movie's case, Haynes takes from a number of artists for inspiration for Slade, but Bowie is easily one of the biggest, additionally Ewan McGregor is playing a role who is an amalgamation of Iggy Pop and Lou Reed) and hang a mystery over them that drives the story. Said protagonist slowly pieces together the famous person's life from those who knew the person directly, peeling back the celebrity story for the complicated, messy figure underneath. From this point, Haynes makes two particular deviations from what Welles did before (and I should give a heads-up, one of these will get into a spoiler, I will mark accordingly.)

The most pronounced split in this case comes in the form of the investigative figure, Arthur. In the case of Kane, the reporter is ultimately a framing figure. He's the one tasked with solving the mystery of Rosebud, but the story itself starts and ends with Charles Foster Kane. The reporter is there to get people talking about the man beyond the newsreels. In the case of Velvet Goldmine, Haynes makes this story as much about Arthur as it is about Slade. In fact, the movie even starts from the premise of their journeys being intertwined in the decision to introduce us to Arthur on the night of the fateful concert that sent Slade into self-imposed exile. As Arthur digs into the story, we are also treated to flashbacks into his own life and how his own interest in Slade led him to the concert that changed it all. In particular, we see how the advent of the glam rock scene became a sexual awakening for Arthur, eventually leading to him leaving his past behind and finding himself through the music. That their connection comes to a head on the fateful night that destroyed Slade's career even adding to it in a way as a sort of 'rising and falling' contrast. Granted, one can't quite call Arthur's trajectory a rise on the level of Slade's, but as he comes more into his own, it still works. Especially for the part that comes next.

Because, like many of my generation, my brain is wired for
The Simpsons quotes:
"He's not dead!"
"No, but his career is."

Okay, here's something I haven't had to do in a while, but like I said above, there was a bit of a spoiler point. I had considered how to write around this, but there was no way to really do it without becoming maddeningly vague, so I'm just gonna go for it. For those who've seen the movie or don't mind the spoilers, read on. For those who haven't and are interested but don't want the spoiler, just scroll down till you see...well, I can't show you McGregor letting it hang out, but I can at least give you the lead-in. Then you can tag back in.

Okay?

Okay.

So, going on the idea of the compare and contrast with Arthur and Slade, there is one particular detail that really stuck out to me, even more so as I wrote this out. This is referring to the movie's final reveal – Arthur discovers that, following his exile in disgrace, Slade returned to the music scene with a new name and face – as a conservative pop idol by the name of Tommy Stone. This in itself is already one Hell of a reveal just as far as Slade's story goes, both for the question of if this complete 180 was simply the one way he could come back without any suspicion or, much more likely, the question of how much of the Brian Slade figure was a case of a chameleon adjusting himself to the needs of his art and career and Tommy Stone is just the latest cynical development of this. It's an interesting question, particularly with regards to Arthur and the one figure in particular who links him to Slade more than anyone else – McGregor's Curt Wild. Playing off the question of Slade's authenticity, Wild serves as another sort of counter figure – a man incredibly at peace with who he is and what he does and, as pertains to this, who he loves.

Both Slade and Arthur have life changing encounters with Wild. While Slade's is the longer relationship, it's also the more erratic, with the breakup marking the beginning of the end of his career career. By comparison, Arthur only has one night with Wild, but it is presented as not a flashy affair, but a moment of genuine emotional connection as well as physical – Wild makes Arthur feel seen, validated on a whole other level than he did as a fan of Slade, and even though they only have that one encounter, it further lends to the idea of this chapter in Arthur's life being where he truly discovers himself.

Again, going back to the rise and fall, it is interesting how Wild inadvertently helps usher the destruction of one personality in one man and then helps the other come into his own. It also helps add to the ending for me in the light of the Tommy Stone revelation. Yes, the implication is that Slade sold out the ideals that he helped to define in the 70s in exchange for getting back into the limelight. At the same time, this doesn't make a bitter or cynical end for Arthur, because even as Slade the person is compromised, it doesn't diminish the impact his music had on Arthur and helping him figure himself out.

Okay, everyone back in.

Saying I was pleasantly surprised by this is an understatement. Like I said above, I came into this for the glam rock and overall good past experiences with Todd Haynes movies. Even with that bar, I really was taken with how what this movie did, particularly with the ideas of the art, the artist, and how both can influence people. There's a lot to unpack here, and I feel like I'll be coming back to this one down the line, and I'm glad I gave it a shot.

I'm also adding some other Haynes titles that I'd been putting off on this list as well, so let's see if any of them come up in the months ahead.

But, like I said up top, it's time for the end of summer catch up as I intend to get everything up to speed in time for September, so other next title is coming up fast on the heels of this.

We're taking a major shift next time in era, themes, and language here. I'm coming back to a director I first crossed paths with during an earlier write-up run here a few years back. Part of me would be tempted to leave that as a hint, but I feel like the turnaround is too short and, frankly, it would be breaking format here, so let's just say it.

I'll be back here real soon with Ousmane Sembène's 1968 follow-up to Black Girl, Mandabi.

Till then