REVIEW: Mary Poppins Returns

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Mary Poppins Returns hit theatres in December 2018, and was received with mixed reviews– some loved the new spectacular addition to the classic Mary Poppins film starring Julie Andrews; others found it exhausting and drab in terms of plot, characters, and music. I find my own opinion lodged somewhere between the two; I didn’t love the movie, but I will defend its integrity and originality. The movie takes place a generation after where the first movie left off. Michael and Jane Banks, the children who Mary Poppins comes to nanny, are all grown up now. Jane is an activist fighting for union workers’ rights, and Michael is an artist and teller with three children who recently lost their mother– and it seems like that they’re all about to lose something else– their house. Amidst this financial turmoil, Mary Poppins materializes to help the Banks children– all of them– go on a magical adventure to revitalize their sense of wonder and joy.

Emily Blunt’s rendition of Mary Poppins is, well, blunt. This new Mary Poppins, reeled in through a kite with not a single hair out of place despite emerging from the eye of a raging storm, with perfectly poised little kitty heels bent at an artful angle, with her curt responses and matter-of-fact commandeering of the Banks children– she’s not as cheery and la-di-da as Julie Andrews’ Mary Poppins. This new one’s feisty. She’s got attitude. She means business. This new Mary Poppins rolls her eyes and bustles around and smiles less but manages to do more. Her magic is controlled and precise, bestowing the children with their own sense of agency rather than spoiling them with her treats. Emily Blunt’s interpretation of Mary Poppins is slightly spicier than it is sweet– and I love it for that. I’ll defend this movie against musical theatre purists that argue that Emily Blunt is not as good as Julie Andrews. They’ve both made the role their own in fun and inventive ways.  

That being said, however, in all honesty, my reaction to this movie was quite ordinary. I didn’t love it; I didn’t hate it. The plot of the Banks children trying to keep their house wasn’t the most engaging, even if Colin Firth was the one playing the evil banker. I didn’t find myself humming the tunes to the new songs as I walked out of the theatre. They just weren’t as catchy or extraordinary as they’d been hyped up to be. And, most importantly, the movie didn’t light up that spark of wonder and joy that Disney movies usually do; the nostalgic, gooey, fuzzy feeling spreading through my stomach– that life can be seen through a rose-colored lens– this movie just didn’t strike that emotional cord for me.

It did have its ups, though. In a song called A Cover Is Not The Book (possibly my favorite part of the whole movie– it’s really fun and whimsical), Jack and Mary Poppins perform with animated characters under the dazzling lights of a circus tent, and in the classic Hamilton style, we get some of Lin Manuel-Miranda’s crisp rhymes and fast-paced rap-style rhythms. There’s a song where the Banks children’s bathtub transports them to an oceanic adventure, swimming with whales and dolphins under an infinite blue sky and tufty white clouds. There’s the subtle romance between Jack and Jane, and though it’s painfully underdeveloped, it’s cute to watch. But still– I can’t really say that any of this adds up to a hugely substantial and magical movie experience. It’s a fun movie, and obviously part of a larger American musical cultural phenomenon, but in isolation, it seems enjoyably ordinary to me.

(Poster from Google Images)

PREVIEW: The Favourite

The Favourite has become one of the most talked-about films of late 2018 and early 2019, receiving no less than five nominations at the Golden Globes (including a win for Olivia Colman as Best Actress — Motion Picture Comedy or Musical). Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, the film stars Emma Stone (Maniac) and Rachel Weisz (My Cousin Rachel) as two cousins competing to be the “favourite” of Queen Anne (Colman) in 18th century Britain. The Favourite is showing this week at the State Theatre as well as at Ann Arbor’s Quality 16.

PREVIEW: If Beale Street Could Talk

If Beale Street Could Talk only hit local theaters recently, but it is already garnering an impressive reputation. An adaptation of the 1974 novel of the same name by James Baldwin, the film has accrued several award nominations, including three at the Golden Globes for Best Motion Picture — Drama, Best Supporting Actress, and Best Screenplay. Directed by Barry Jenkins of Moonlight fame, the film stars KiKi Layne and Stephan James as Tish and Fonny, a young couple whose romance is derailed and tested when Fonny is falsely accused of rape and Tish discovers that she is pregnant. If Beale Street Could Talk is currently playing at the State Theatre, as well as other local Ann Arbor theaters such as the Ann Arbor 20 IMAX and the Quality 16.

PREVIEW: The Room

Although described as a cult classic, I have never even heard of this movie. Its description is beyond bizzare, warning that I will “never see a football the same way again,” which is terrifying, and brings me to a very specific memory of this poem I read from a book I picked up for 50 cents at a used book store. Reviews of this movie range from calling it a masterpiece to the worst movie ever made.

Basically, I have no idea what watching The Room will do to me, but I will die from curiousity if I don’t see it.

You should join me in this odd venture into the unknown. It’s showing one night only, Friday, November 30 at 10 PM, in the auditorium of the Michigan Theater.

One last thing: the Michigan Theater website requests that audience members do not bring metal spoons or footballs to the show (???), so be sure to remove the spoons and footballs you normally carry before arriving.

REVIEW: The Hate U Give

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The Hate U Give is a stunning film. I felt like I was at the edge of my seat throughout almost the entire movie, my heart ready to lurch forward and join the characters in their fight against injustice, tears welling in my eyes despite myself. In the aftermath of her friend Khalil’s being shot by a police officer, protagonist Starr Carter finds herself in a crucial position to help his case as a direct eye witness; the movie is her navigating her choices to speak up, to fight, and to help her friend and community after his death. The movie seamlessly juggles multiple plot points and themes simultaneously– from large-scale institutional racism, to microaggressions from her close white friends who sympathize with the police officer who shot Khalil; from Starr going to a private school and having a white boyfriend, to loving the black neighborhood in which she grew up; from Starr’s obsession with Jordans, to calling her parents her OTP. The movie shows us so many parts of the black experience in America– political, social, personal, cultural– it seems to maturely accomplish the exposition of so many issues while staying true to underlying the institutional injustice against black people in America. The Hate U Give is a beautiful, mature, and important movie, and I urge everyone to go see it.

The scene that still won’t leave my mind is the one in which Starr’s friend, Khalil, is killed. Starr and him are childhood friends and spent most of their days as kids together, playing Harry Potter, goofing around in the streets of their neighborhood, but they drifted apart as they got older. In the beginning of the movie, Starr and Khalil meet again at a party. They recount their childhood together. Khalil tells her what Tupac meant by THUG LIFE: “The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody”– meaning that the unjust systems propagated through our institutions, politics, and social norms eventually repeats itself when it is manifested as hatred and anger in the youth. In the car, Khalil and Starr share a kiss, and for one blissful moment, everything feels good.

Then the police officer pulls Khalil over for what seems like no reason. The film does an incredible job of capturing the small, minute details that culminate to his shooting: the way Khalil refuses to turn down his music, the way the officer ungracefully attempts to regain control of the conversation, Starr silently pleading Khalil to do as the officer says, the officer’s nervousness around both Starr and Khalil, Khalil’s reaching into the car after being patted down to grab his hairbrush… The scene is so carefully constructed and all the moments lead up to another. I’m still running it over in my head, trying to find something that could have prevented it from happening. But that’s the thing– this is a tragedy that has not only happened once, it is not an isolated event– it is the tangible and repeated reality of African Americans in America today. This movie makes you realize that what conspired with Starr and Khalil is the culmination of years of institutional racism, and begs for action from its audience members.

The beautiful thing about this movie is that it engages with these sprawling problems of racism and police brutality while not losing sight of the humanity and individuality of its characters. It freely explores the nuances of Starr’s code-switching between her using slang in the “hood” that she lives in, but speaking “proper” when she’s at her private school. It shows a hilarious scene of Starr introducing her white boyfriend to her dad (he said, “Chris? What kind of plain-ass name is that?” I nearly spit out my drink). It shows a joyful party of young black people having a good time together. It shows how much Starr’s parents love each other. This movie is so full of joy and sorrow and, ultimately, hope that it resonates and hits a deep chord of exigency with its audience members.

The movie was based on the book of the same name by Angie Thomas, which I read in the summer before watching the movie. There were a few characters and events left out of the movie adaption for the sake of brevity, and some events added or slightly altered in the end to thematically tie the film together, but overall, it stayed true to the heart and humanity of the book. I urge everyone to go watch this film as a powerful and engaging social commentary.

REVIEW: The Rocky Horror Picture Show

“I wish to lose all morals, and accept decadence into my heart.”

The night starts off with crowds of people in sparkles and lingerie and all black  piled up outside of the Michigan Theater, eager to begin their Rocky Horror experience. An experience that is varied and cannot be restricted by just one adjective. An experience that is energetic, erotic, campy, and…. scientific?

With an introduction from a moth, who welcomes all of the groups who are out – the straights, the gays, the sorrorities – the crowd is riled up before the film has started. Prohibited items include: ice, confetti, water guns, candles or lighters, whole rolls of toilet paper, hot dogs, and prunes. But the moth pointed out that squares of toilet paper, or streamers, or 3/4 of a roll of toilet paper, are allowed. It is only the Leather Medusa’s second year putting on a shadow cast show of RHPS at the theater, but they’re sold out.

I stand for my virgin pledge, with about half of the audience who are marked with red lipstick Vs. Surprisingly, such a prominent cult classic still remains unseen by many. Not so surprisingly, the Rocky Horror virgins of the world are curious about the film and its culture, intrigued by its ostentatious reputation and loyal followers. And tonight, our curiosity is to be fulfilled. Soon everyone stands together, for the Rocky Horror pledge and with much anti… cipation – the show begins.

Newly engaged Brad and Janet get stuck in the rain, and wander into Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s castle, where they have a long night ahead of them. The shadow cast saunters around the stage, their costumes and movements perfectly matching those of the film’s characters. The audience yells “ASSHOLE!” at Brad, “SLUT!” at Janet, “WHERE’S YOUR NECK?” at the criminologist, and a variety of other more specific, seemingly-scripted, comments. The film can barely be heard. This culture is not exactly for the prude or sensitive – although they are the ones that the culture loves to deflower the most. Similarly to the audience culture around Tommy Wiseau’s ‘The Room’, some describe this movie-going experience as wildly inconsiderate and vulgar. But the lines of accepted norms are blurred in the midst of such a cult classic, one that drew counterculture crowds as a midnight movie at its release and still draws those audiences (or those who shapeshift into such for a night) today.

Attempting to watch the film over the yelling of the crowd, I do my best to stay in-tune while actively participating. But the participation doesn’t take away from the film’s grandeur. The unusual set, defined characters, theatrical costumes and makeup, peculiar sci-fi characteristics, lively songs and dances, canted angles, effective use of various lenses, irony, and sexual notions, are enough to interest audiences even when they are unclear of the plot (which is somewhat unclear, anyway.) I’m sure all of the other virgins sometimes sat just as confused as me, but also pleasantly entertained.

Seeing Rocky Horror is a uniting experience: the audience, together, are just as important as the film. Dancing the time warp, throwing cards and pieces of toast, everyone is in tune with one another. Even the virgins. We catch on. If all goes as planned by the Transylvanians, by the end of the film you’re going to want to dance and yell and touch everyone and be covered in sequins and dramatic makeup.