REVIEW: The Silence of the Lambs

Every so often, the Michigan or State Theater will screen a classic— last Thursday, it was The Silence of the Lambs, the quintessential 1991 psychological horror, directed by Jonathan Demme and starring Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins. I went into the screening without any expectations, knowing only that the film involved a cannibalistic serial killer fittingly named Hannibal and I could probably expect gore. The horror was done incredibly well, but the genius of The Silence of the Lambs is that the gore and terror of murder were only a fraction of the film’s emotional appeal. Demme fills each scene with the psychological unease of reality as the story follows an FBI trainee, Clarice, who is constantly shown to be looked down upon or disrespected because she is a woman. The script declares this outright with creepy remarks from higher-ups and even from Hannibal himself, but this is also accomplished with careful framing: throughout the movie, close-ups force us to stare into the eyes of men as Clarice sees them, hauntingly blank or grotesquely hungry, eyes either pointing condescendingly down at the camera or unnervingly straight into our own. Clarice is often alone, often being hit on or disregarded by serial killers and FBI agents alike, and cannot avoid it despite her skillful maneuvering of misogynistic encounters. This inspires a very real fear rooted in our awareness of her vulnerability. We’re quick to doubt the intentions of the film’s men— which is where the character of Hannibal becomes complicated, who should be the easiest to distrust.

Clarice and Hannibal are expertly crafted, and their relationship keeps us on our toes. Close-ups of Hannibal, played perfectly by Anthony Hopkins, reveal his sunken features, his icy and unblinking stare, and the sense that every word is part of a secret, sinister plan; close-ups of Clarice reveal unwavering confidence and sly intelligence. The interrogation scenes between the two are laden with tension and electricity, the investigation unfolding to be double-sided as Hannibal and Clarice race to break each other down. As the film progresses, this relationship becomes tangled and unclear; despite being the most clearly deranged and untrustable character, Hannibal treats Clarice with more respect and curiosity than the rest of her peers. The psychological horror of the film lives largely in this relationship as we struggle to decode Hannibal’s intentions and predict his next move.

The Silence of the Lambs is evenly polished: the score is haunting but not overbearing, each scene is intentional, and moments of crude humor balance the gore. I can see how this film earned so many awards and became a classic— it has a cinematic simplicity familiar to the 90s, attaining the perfect balance of explaining some while leaving some to the imagination. Besides the more fast-paced third act, our fear relies on insinuations about what happened or what’s going to happen, close shots of corpses and bloody nail marks down a wall. The only point of the film that left a sour taste in my mouth was the film’s handling of Buffalo Bill, a serial killer who believes he is transgender and who multiple characters claim isn’t truly transgender, but rather psychologically confused and tormented on a more complex level. As much as Buffalo Bill is distanced from the transgender community, described as obsessed with transformation and envious destruction rather than conventions of gender, his portrayal aligns too closely with common stereotypes about transgender women being deceitful predators. The social commentary is fitting for the time of its release, and it is nuanced, but given this film’s insane popularity, it’s inevitable that some audiences would fit this portrayal into pre-existing biases and fail to critically analyze the character.

I loved the experience of watching this movie for the first time in a small theater; the audience was visibly excited, gasping at gory shots and laughing at absurd one-liners. The big screen amplified the intensity of close-ups and the architecture of the old theater amplified the nostalgia of the early 90s. Keep your eyes peeled for the next screening of a cult classic in downtown Ann Arbor, and keep a weekend night open so you can catch one; student tickets are only $8.50!

REVIEW: The Holdovers

There was no better way to spend my afternoon like catching the Sunday matinee of a film I have had on my mind ever since I saw a trailer for it this past summer – an early screening of Alexander Payne’s latest film “The Holdovers.”  An apparently highly anticipated screening, as the Michigan Theater was practically swarmed with Ann Arbor-ites of all ages, passionately discussing the ins and outs of their virtuous presumptions. Afterwards, it was difficult to say if their expectations were met – but surely, smiles of perhaps off-duty professors and trend-outfitted undergrads had endured.  And for me, as I left the theater, I left the film inside.  There was no lingering impression that was tied to me, which is infrequently my experience after an Alexander Payne film, but there was an inexplicable warmth that carried through the theater. Ultimately, this overdrawn, meandering, melancholic comedy is made lovable, in part, by touching performances and tender moments, if frustratingly fleeting. 

In the film’s opening, Payne situates us in the snowy outskirts of 1970s Massachusetts, our plot following a whiskey-drinking, fish-smelling, scrooge of a classics teacher, Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti, “Billions,” “Sideways”) at Barton prep school, who is forced to watch over the students who have nowhere to go for Christmas.  Soon, we see our main group of students disassemble – departing via parent-dispatched helicopter – except for an irreverent and awkward junior, Angus (Dominic Sessa.) Leaving Mr. Hunham, Angus, and the school cook, Mary (Da’Vine Joy Randolph,“High Fidelity,” “Only Murders in the Building.”) The three form a makeshift family, bonding through mealtime small talk, clandestine excursions, and ritualistic midnight-viewings of the “Newly Weds” game show.  As their bond tightens, so begins the unraveling intricacies of their own stifled grief – and the solace they find in one another’s company. 

Visually, the film brings a warm, saturated flare to a muted, wintery landscape that envelops the rigid collegiate architecture – and could be easily mistaken for the Law Quad, come January.  And our eyes savor the composition of every long-held, establishing shot, each tempting the bound between effortless realism and dreamlike uniformity – a very Wes Anderson-esque framework. But this aesthetic isn’t contained in these few scenes, instead it remains a lingering presence in the air – just as tangible as the actors breathing it in.  Embedded with true 1970s visual stylings, the film is riddled with covert film flickering, wide zoom outs and ins, making the viewer feel like they are in the middle of a “Columbo” episode. This stylistic undertaking of recreating that “70s look” in modern films is often its own character – giving into gimmickry and performativity.  Yet Payne manages to distill the sweet oddities of the distinctive 1970s cinematography into an illusive, atmospheric mood. 

And while this film’s clear aesthetic certainly builds an intimacy with viewers, the script doesn’t necessarily.  “The Holdovers” at its core, is a film about the impermanence of youth and the grief that accompanies its passing – and this is where it shines – however briefly. 

For example, we have Mr. Hunham who is at a standstill in his life; working for the school that he attended in his youth, and under the command of one of his previous students.  And despite his hard exterior, he softens – sheepishly sharing and diminishing his dreams of writing a monograph.  In a later scene, he and Angus run into a former classmate of his at Harvard.  During their interaction, we see Mr. Hunham lie through his teeth about his employment and accomplishments, keying in the audience to what he dreamed his life could have been.  Arguably, Mr. Hunham is simultaneously the most wretched, but also the most developed and sympathetic character in the film. This is, in part, ascribable to Paul Giamatti’s wonderfully evocative performance.  Sincerely, the best role I have seen him in, thus far – and an undoubted Oscar-nominee.  And speaking of Oscar worthy performances, it would be remiss not to discuss the force that is Da’Vine Joy Randolph’s evocative portrayal of Mary – whose warmth is palpable and was often the perpetrator of the laughter in the audience. In Mary’s case, she is grieving the loss of her son who had previously attended Barton, but enlisted in the military to save for college, which led to his death. However disjointed in the script, she frequently muses over the prospect of what could have been his future – what would have been the rest of his youth.  This is, I think, a poignant commentary (and one that I am sure is relatable to many of us at Michigan) of you can go to the best schools in the world, but there will always be a barrier between opportunities if you are at a financial disadvantage. 

Lastly, we have Angus who has no shortage of privilege – except when it comes to his familial relationships.  In the film, he is ostensibly abandoned by his mother who decides to spend the holidays with her new husband, and pays him off as a desultory apology.  Meanwhile, Angus’s biological father is in a mental hospital, suffering from (herein lies a plot shortcoming) maybe schizophrenia and early onset dementia? This is explained at the end, quite haphazardly.  Nonetheless, this leaves Angus with a fractured household – one that he tries desperately to revive and derive affection from throughout the film.  With that being said, Angus has the propensity to be highly childish, but he is often stifled from doing so as he internally reckons with his neglect, and the imposed independence that is required with no parental guidance.  One of my favorite scenes from the film is when Angus becomes captivated by a snowglobe.  Perhaps insignificant at first glance, but I believe this scene shows his longing for the sanctity of childhood – a childhood which is quite literally trapped within an object that  is unable to be revisited – but only looked upon with admiration.  Though unspoken, Dominic Sessa’s subtleties are what makes his performance memorable.  Fascinatingly, he was reportedly scouted from a nearby school’s theater department.  That and his empty IMDB page give a naturalistic mystique to his performance.  Yet, it wasn’t clear if he has the acclaimed, “it.”  Great actor, yes, but he was lackluster in more emotionally demanding sections of the film.  Although I won’t speak too soon, given the cultural trajectory of the general public flocking to lanky brunette men – I can imagine his future acting prospects are looking positive – if he chooses to forgo that path. 

Come the ending of the film, I found myself reeling at why I felt completely disconnected and untouched by a story that I thoroughly enjoyed and characters that I deeply understood.  I will admit that it remains unanswered still in my mind.  Though my best effort at extracting this dissonance, ultimately boils down to the sheer unfocused execution of Payne’s excellent ideas.  We can see all of our characters suffer and persevere internally, but rarely do they share moments of true, unadulterated connection between their greatest commonality: stolen youth.  And when they do, it lasts no longer than a minute or two, being promptly interrupted by uncharacteristic dialogue, tangential storylines, or an abrupt shift in plot.  Just one example of this is seen after a charming turned overwrought Christmas party, the trio heads back to the car, Angus and Mr. Hunham consoling a drunken, tear-stained Mary.  Angus half-heartedly comforts Mary, in true teenage boy fashion, which elicits a maligning outburst from Mr. Hunham.  Mary then quickly snaps out of her grief to scold Mr. Hunham, and then she is suddenly fine – the scene is never mentioned again. This fragmented narrative hinders a deeper emotional connection to the trio as a whole, leaving the audience yearning for more enduring moments of resonance. 

And this element of the film is the catalyst for what would be an average runtime, to feel so extensive and interminable.  In spite of this, our actors manage to sustain our engagement and investment in these characters through an amalgamation of clever one-liners, vulnerable confessionals, and unquestionably moving depictions of the beauty in unexpected companionship – however sporadically placed and decidedly short-lived.  Altogether, Payne’s “The Holdovers” feels like a vivid, albeit voyeuristic glimpse into the heartfelt happenings of three strangers who form and rely on their newfound family.  With vintage flair, Payne creates a spritely, if a little tedious holiday film that is sure to earn a spot on people’s shelves – even just to collect dust. 

While this was an early screening, the wide release of “The Holdovers” is on November 10th, 2023.  



REVIEW: Tiger Stripes

7:30pm • Tuesday, Oct. 31, 2023 • State Theater

Directed by Amanda Nell Eu and brought to Ann Arbor by the annual Halaloween film festival, Tiger Stripes follows Zaffan, an 11-year-old girl living in rural Malaysia, and her friends Mariam and Farah. When Zaffan has her period, drastic changes begin occurring in her body and she becomes a social pariah, only to discover her own power.  Tiger Stripes captures the fraught experience of adolescence through a combination of thoughtful character development and body horror. 

In the beginning of the movie, scenes where Zaffan dances for TikTok videos in the school bathroom and rough-houses with her friends develop her feisty, rebellious nature. At the same time, Farah’s disgust and Mariam’s admiration for Zaffan’s behavior set the stage for the relational conflicts which occur later in the story. Something I thought was brilliant in the way Eu portrayed the friends’ responses to Zaffan’s rebelliousness, and then her period, was how they hinted at the process of socialization and the intergenerational transfer of beliefs and values. Farah’s story about how mad her father was when her older sister bled on the couch revealed how Farah’s personal experiences informed her understanding of menstruation. 

Also brilliant was the way that Eu projected beliefs and values about purity and cleanliness present in Zaffan’s community directly onto her body. When Zaffan gets her period, the first thing her mother says is “You’re dirty now,” shepherding Zaffan into the shower. Later, Zaffan’s former friends bully her, saying that she smells and questioning whether she is taking showers. Zaffan becomes afflicted with angry red rashes all over her body, her nails peel off, and her hair begins falling out, a physical manifestation of her friends’ teasing. Zaffan’s fear and disgust at the changes occuring in her body reflected the feelings many girls experience during adolescence.

Even in the midst of all of these horrors, Zaffan remains true to her bold, joyful identity, emerging from the trials of adolescence as a powerful, liberated new version of herself. Eu brings moments of levity into the story using tongue-in-cheek special effects and comedic jump-scares that seem to infuse the movie with Zaffan’s bright personality. I loved the way Tiger Stripes brought joy and humor together with horror to portray adolescence and coming of age. It was a new experience for me to embrace horror as a genre that can be playful, even funny, and made me ask new questions about the balance between serious subjects and making fun out of their representation. I cannot recommend this movie enough, and encourage you to watch it if you have the opportunity.

REVIEW: Stop Making Sense

Stop Making Sense is essentially a Talking Heads concert in movie form. Originally released in 1984, the movie was re-released and remastered in September of 2023. The movie starts with David Byrne playing “Psycho Killer”, arguably the band’s most famous song, on acoustic guitar with a boombox in the background. The second song in the lineup features Tina Weymouth (the band’s bassist), and gradually more and more members join alongside them. As the band plays, members of the crew assemble the set in real time. The band has multiple outfit changes but only wears neutral colors, allowing the focus to be almost entirely on the music and choreography.

What surprised me the most about the movie was how physical the performance was. Once each member of the band started playing they did not stop continuously moving one way or another. David Byrne even started running laps around the stage at an early point in the movie. The dancing that accompanied each song was very deliberate, and sometimes required every member of the band to move in unison. There was a particular emphasis on mirroring each other’s dance moves, making everything feel put together and sharp.

Light was another important aspect of the performance. The band at one point altered the lighting so they could disappear in and out of the darkness behind them. Byrne even dances with a lamp at one point, which is in direct contrast to the industrial lighting available to them on stage.  The performance also has a brief intermission by the band Tom Tom Club which was formed by Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz, the band’s bassist and drummer. 

Going in as a casual listener of the band, I was a little hesitant to go see the movie for myself. All of my reservations were completely thrown out of the window as soon as the first song started. It was definitely a worthwhile, and incredibly unique experience. Stop Making Sense  is perfect for the big screen, and seeing it reignited my love for the Talking Heads music.       

 

Photo from Fandango.com

REVIEW: The Rocky Horror Picture Show

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is an internationally appreciated cult classic musical film, often performed around Halloween. The hit movie (and musical) held two performances this past weekend at our very own Michigan Theater. I was lucky enough to catch their annual performance on Saturday at 9:30, and it lived up to every expectation as an absolute riot from start to finish. It’s a lively and goofy movie with notable characters like the innocent Brad and Janet, thoughtless yet sincere Rocky, and the tremendously memorable transvestite, Frank-N-Furter. This performance is absolutely an 18+ experience, with many sexual innuendos, violence, intense language, and adult themes (which is no surprise if you know the show). The film has the longest-running release in film history and was even adapted again into a more modern TV film in 2016 on Fox. Forty-eight years later, the film still plays in theaters all around the country, often with a live amateur ‘shadow cast’ that mimes the actors on the big screen. There were shouts and roars from the costumed audience of classic lines to be accurately called out at certain points in the film. It is not your average ‘night at the movies’ at all…

The film was released in the fall of 1975 in the UK and USA. It was directed by the Australian director Jim Sharman, who was widely known for producing many kinds of experimental theater. He has a decorated list of theatrical directing credentials from across the world, with a few major films that hit the theaters through the 70s. The screenplay was adapted by Sharman and the UK’s own Richard O’Brien based on O’Brien’s original 1973 musical. The musical premiered that year in the UK, including the iconic Tim Curry, who reprised his role as Frank-N-Furter in the 1975 original movie. The first West End cast performance was dubbed a ‘creative and commercial success’. Initial reception to the film, however, was extremely negative, but it later became a hit as a ‘midnight movie’ that aired late into the evenings on television stations, and from there, a quintessential cult classic. 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is understood to have been a great influence on countercultural and sexual liberation in the 1960s and even today. It was one of the first popular musicals that depicted fluid sexuality during a time of generational divisiveness and growing advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights. Today, this continues to be true as queer folks work to create more LGBTQ+ friendly space in the arts, and annual productions of Rocky Horror reinforce the necessary space yearly through this vessel. This precedent is set by the characters in the show: they are not confined by gender, and many different identities of performers take on the ‘shadow cast’ roles, keeping the show undoubtedly fresh. The “look” of each character does stay consistent, their costuming/hair and such, but many things can and have been adapted in various performances. Historically, the costuming of the show affected the development of many punk rock fashion trends, with colored hair, fishnet stockings, and colorfully flamboyant make-up. 

The ‘shadow cast’ of this production did a fantastic job of depicting the drama on screen. A ‘shadow cast’ is not something that is often seen in movie theater settings, so it was a lot of fun to experience. It was difficult to light the actors because the movie playing right behind the stage, so often it was hard to see. However, the energy of the acts was understood from the back of the house, and their exuberant costumes filled the space left by a lack of set. I commend these folks for their accurate and entertaining work as the ‘shadow cast’ of the film, and their commitment to the tradition of Rocky Horror! 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a must-see musical film and a hilariously memorable experience. I sincerely enjoyed the performances from the ‘shadow cast’ and seeing this movie for the first time in theaters. The actors and the crowd were absolute pandemonium, and I enjoyed my time from start to finish. The experience in theaters is a unique one, and I would urge folks interested to make an evening of it and enjoy the show. Rocky Horror is an annual occurrence at the Michigan Theater and sells out nearly every time, so be sure to get your tickets early. It’s a Halloween festivity not to be missed! 

 

 

Image from the film, thanks to IMDb.

REVIEW: Taylor Swift | The Eras Tour

Taylor Swift | The Eras Tour was a crazy 2-hour and 45-minute-long film, and I enjoyed every second of it. I highly recommend experiencing it in theaters instead of at home; unlike regular movies, people sang, danced, cheered, and clapped in their seats (some even stood)! Although nothing could ever compare to seeing her perform live, the energy of the crowd was great and I felt like I got a glimpse of the ecstatic atmosphere at the SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles: the last stop of Taylor’s tour in North America and where the movie was shot. Not only was her tour sold out, but the movie the night I watched it was too!

Like most people, if you weren’t lucky enough to see her live, then the film is the next best thing. I’m not a Swifite, though I was in my elementary days. That’s why I especially enjoyed the discography in The Eras Tour, which covered all the music she’s released in the past 17 years of her career, including the three albums she never got to tour with. As the title of the tour suggests, it was truly a journey through all of her musical eras, and she ended the night with her most recent album Midnights (2022). My favorites were the classic You Belong With Me and Love Story.

The cinematography was absolutely amazing and truly captured Taylor’s stage presence and control over the crowd. The camera work showcased everything so well, such as the great chemistry between her and the backup dancers and singers, the stage set-up, and the graphics. The most breathtaking transition was right after she finished performing Our Song; as she walked towards the back of the stage she suddenly jumped down and became one with the ground, swimming with her striking red dress. She had several wardrobe changes throughout the night, ranging from black cloaks and white flowy dresses to glittery skin-tight bodysuits. They helped express the emotion of each era and she pulled off each one. In addition to being a phenomenal singer, Taylor also proved that she was a great dancer, guitarist, and pianist throughout her performances.

Though it was the longest movie I’ve ever seen it never felt like it dragged on. I highly recommend watching it, even as a casual fan or listener. It simply won’t be the same as watching it at home, so get a ticket soon! There will be multiple showings up until October 26th at the Michigan Theatre.