36. Lovelace. A film so bad, I didn't even watch it. Maybe Matt has some defense? (K.H.)
It was supposed to be about porn. (M.K.)
35. Austenland. It's so unfortunate when such a comely and accomplished lady fails to live up to her potential. (K.H.)
It was supposed to be about porn. (M.K.)
35. Austenland. It's so unfortunate when such a comely and accomplished lady fails to live up to her potential. (K.H.)
34. Star Trek Into Darkness. Great opening scene on a planet with colorful natives. Can't remember anything else after that. (K.H.)
Chris Pine’s face is more luridly beautiful than a thousand alien planets. But I don’t remember anything he did here, either. (M.K.)
33. The Internship. Oh, Owen. Oh, Vince. At least you know you are not young. (K.H.)
32. Admission. This was my introduction to Princeton University. Too bad. It really wanted to be a critique of the so-called meritocracy of college admissions, but it lost its nerve somewhere in the middle. (K.H.)
Chris Pine’s face is more luridly beautiful than a thousand alien planets. But I don’t remember anything he did here, either. (M.K.)
33. The Internship. Oh, Owen. Oh, Vince. At least you know you are not young. (K.H.)
32. Admission. This was my introduction to Princeton University. Too bad. It really wanted to be a critique of the so-called meritocracy of college admissions, but it lost its nerve somewhere in the middle. (K.H.)
31. Man of Steel. I really wish Hollywood would answer my calls and stop filming twenty minute fight scenes in which villains scream "I'm going to kill you!" and then proceed to throw a clumsy train. Seriously, this time, I'm through with superhero movies forever. (K.H.)
RELEASE THE WORLD-ENGINE! Or don’t, and just read Connor Kilpatrick’s Jacobin review instead, which is far more badass. (M.K)
30. Side Effects. You do not kill Channing Tatum in the first ten minutes of a film. And you do not end it with an evil lesbian conspiracy. Jude Law makes an entertaining sleuth though. (K.H.)
RELEASE THE WORLD-ENGINE! Or don’t, and just read Connor Kilpatrick’s Jacobin review instead, which is far more badass. (M.K)
30. Side Effects. You do not kill Channing Tatum in the first ten minutes of a film. And you do not end it with an evil lesbian conspiracy. Jude Law makes an entertaining sleuth though. (K.H.)
29. Her. It's hard to describe the visceral revulsion I felt for this film, which more than once made me laugh in sheer scorn. It had so much going for it as a Pygmalion tale and as a speculative take on our increasingly digital lives. But there was something off about the tone -- and Phoenix's Twombley, who is exactly the sort of pathetic dweeb you'd expect to fall in love with a machine. How much more interesting, and alarming, it could've been if he'd been a more socially connected guy. (K.H.)
Somehow it's important for me to add here that Joaquin Phoenix has officially denounced Her-style pants, which are an abomination. (M.K.)
28. The Kings of Summer. Odd and fun. But it’s not summer anymore. (M.K.)
27. The Butler. Everyone says that it’s basically a black Forrest Gump, and everyone is right. There are good things and bad things about this. (M.K.)
26. What Maisie Knew. A bit long and loose, but a nice update to the James novel, and wonderfully faithful to the child's point of view. Steve Coogan is as loathsome as ever, and Julianne Moore's courtroom fashions could've told us everything we needed to know about her character, but then she had to go and use her smoky voice, too. (K.H.)
25. Upstream Color. Worms, pigs, orchids, Thoreau, Emerson: “Every natural fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact.” Another indifferent film that produced a fascinating essay (this one from Caleb Crain). (M.K.)
Somehow it's important for me to add here that Joaquin Phoenix has officially denounced Her-style pants, which are an abomination. (M.K.)
28. The Kings of Summer. Odd and fun. But it’s not summer anymore. (M.K.)
27. The Butler. Everyone says that it’s basically a black Forrest Gump, and everyone is right. There are good things and bad things about this. (M.K.)
26. What Maisie Knew. A bit long and loose, but a nice update to the James novel, and wonderfully faithful to the child's point of view. Steve Coogan is as loathsome as ever, and Julianne Moore's courtroom fashions could've told us everything we needed to know about her character, but then she had to go and use her smoky voice, too. (K.H.)
25. Upstream Color. Worms, pigs, orchids, Thoreau, Emerson: “Every natural fact is a symbol of some spiritual fact.” Another indifferent film that produced a fascinating essay (this one from Caleb Crain). (M.K.)
Hey, look! Five straight movies about capitalism, or, better yet, resistance to capitalism! None of them are very good, but they're all worth thinking about.
The Revolutionaries of 2013:
It's telling, of course, that only revolutionaries past (Après Mai, The Company You Keep) and future (Elysium) are consciously ideological: the present-day subversives stage their revolt through petty crime, violent crime, and above all, narcissistic self-adornment. They're still rebels, though: as the personal trainer Mark Wahlberg tells his rich client/kidnapping victim in Pain & Gain: "I don't just want everything you have. I want you not to have it." (On The Bling Ring, check out Kurt Newman's "The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Vuitton", the best titled blog essay of 2013.)
Each of these movies depicts its own kind of anti-capitalist resistance, but all of them, in different ways, have trouble imagining the fulfillment of that resistance. The limits of revolution by burglary and pectoral enhancement should be obvious. But for the post-'68 French lifestyle leftists of Apres Mai, the choice is clear: why bother with tedious Zhdanovist filmmaking and harangues about autonomism when you can just trip out to Tangerine Dream, make your own art, and get laid anyway?
Thanks mostly to Susan Sarandon and Julie Christie (who belongs at every revolution), The Company You Keep actually paints a more sympathetic portrait of left-wing guerillas than anyone has a right to expect from Hollywood. But ultimately the struggle is defeated not by the FBI, or even the craven careerism of Shia LaBeouf, but the geriatric radicals' own parenting instincts. And last, Elysium promised to topple the plutocracy, but in the end all we got was revolution by keystroke, plus slightly higher budget for foreign aid.
Still, I'll raise my glass to the uneasy, searching spirit behind all these films. Here's to more and better anti-capitalist imaginings in 2014, either with or without whey protein. (M.K.)
Each of these movies depicts its own kind of anti-capitalist resistance, but all of them, in different ways, have trouble imagining the fulfillment of that resistance. The limits of revolution by burglary and pectoral enhancement should be obvious. But for the post-'68 French lifestyle leftists of Apres Mai, the choice is clear: why bother with tedious Zhdanovist filmmaking and harangues about autonomism when you can just trip out to Tangerine Dream, make your own art, and get laid anyway?
Thanks mostly to Susan Sarandon and Julie Christie (who belongs at every revolution), The Company You Keep actually paints a more sympathetic portrait of left-wing guerillas than anyone has a right to expect from Hollywood. But ultimately the struggle is defeated not by the FBI, or even the craven careerism of Shia LaBeouf, but the geriatric radicals' own parenting instincts. And last, Elysium promised to topple the plutocracy, but in the end all we got was revolution by keystroke, plus slightly higher budget for foreign aid.
Still, I'll raise my glass to the uneasy, searching spirit behind all these films. Here's to more and better anti-capitalist imaginings in 2014, either with or without whey protein. (M.K.)
19. Mud. Finally, a film in which it will literally kill McConaughey to take off his shirt. What on earth will he do? He will act. And heroically take off his shirt. (K.H.)
A coming-of-age fable in which no innocence is actually lost. (M.K.)
18. This is the End. Totally with Goldfarb on this one. Seriously, that's probably exactly what James Franco's like, right? (K.H.)
A coming-of-age fable in which no innocence is actually lost. (M.K.)
18. This is the End. Totally with Goldfarb on this one. Seriously, that's probably exactly what James Franco's like, right? (K.H.)
17. The Wolf of Wall Street. This raging beast of a film is in my personal top ten, but Matt's apparent distate for hookers, coke, and Jonah Hill relegate it to the middle of the pack. DiCaprio is the master of overacting -- I always find myself wanting to take him aside and give him notes, because dammit, he tries too HARD -- but here, my hat goes off to him. The role he was born to play. (K.H.)
I dug the idea behind this film, and I don’t think its politics could possibly be more fiercely dead-on. (Yes, we live in a world ruled by shitheads, while Coach Taylor takes the subway to work. That’s capitalist justice.) It’s long and painful because it’s meant to be long and painful—not Goodfellas, but Funny Games, maybe with a slight dash of Funny People. But watching this in the theater, damn if I didn’t want to check my email every five minutes. The wrestling match between Michael Haneke and Judd Apatow sounds like a great idea, but for me, it produced a few incredible scenes and a lot of dead air. (M.K.)
Update! Skip this movie and just read Eileen Jones's glorious rant instead:
The details of these Wall Street ratfuckers’ lives are numbingly familiar, as are their lightly-fictionalized cinematic counterparts... Consider the multitudes of rascally young Charlie Sheenish anti-heroes who’ve infected movies since the ‘80s, first shown learning the ropes of ripping people off the Big Business way, and then repenting their sins in that crucial last reel where the phony moral of the story goes....
Remember that sleazy, lecherous stockbroker with the shit-eating grin in the first Die Hard who thought he could scam his way out of a hostage situation by sales-talking the head criminal mastermind and calling him “Boopy”? That guy was hilarious!
That was 1988, people. We’ve been laughing at these guys for going on thirty years now. It’s taking us a while to figure out maybe they aren’t so funny.
16. The Great Gatsby. An overly romantic Gatsby that's as marred as you'd expect by Tobey Maguire, but Baz gives it everything he's got in 3D, and those parties, that city: boy, do they ever come alive. (K.H.)
I dug the idea behind this film, and I don’t think its politics could possibly be more fiercely dead-on. (Yes, we live in a world ruled by shitheads, while Coach Taylor takes the subway to work. That’s capitalist justice.) It’s long and painful because it’s meant to be long and painful—not Goodfellas, but Funny Games, maybe with a slight dash of Funny People. But watching this in the theater, damn if I didn’t want to check my email every five minutes. The wrestling match between Michael Haneke and Judd Apatow sounds like a great idea, but for me, it produced a few incredible scenes and a lot of dead air. (M.K.)
Update! Skip this movie and just read Eileen Jones's glorious rant instead:
The details of these Wall Street ratfuckers’ lives are numbingly familiar, as are their lightly-fictionalized cinematic counterparts... Consider the multitudes of rascally young Charlie Sheenish anti-heroes who’ve infected movies since the ‘80s, first shown learning the ropes of ripping people off the Big Business way, and then repenting their sins in that crucial last reel where the phony moral of the story goes....
Remember that sleazy, lecherous stockbroker with the shit-eating grin in the first Die Hard who thought he could scam his way out of a hostage situation by sales-talking the head criminal mastermind and calling him “Boopy”? That guy was hilarious!
That was 1988, people. We’ve been laughing at these guys for going on thirty years now. It’s taking us a while to figure out maybe they aren’t so funny.
16. The Great Gatsby. An overly romantic Gatsby that's as marred as you'd expect by Tobey Maguire, but Baz gives it everything he's got in 3D, and those parties, that city: boy, do they ever come alive. (K.H.)