Film Review: Moana (2016)

Halfway through Moana, the demigod Maui (voiced by Dwayne Johnson) derisively calls the eponymous character (voiced by Auli'i Cravalho) "princess". She says that she isn't a princess, she's the daughter of a chief, and while Maui isn't swayed by the distinction, it's an important one to Moana - it's the latest example of man trying to define who she is, and in doing so underestimating her - but also for the film around her. "Princess" comes laden with certain expectations about responsibilities, behaviours, and decorum, just as the notion of a "Disney Princess" is associated with a certain kind of storytelling.

Film Review: De Palma (2015)

Documentaries about directors are relatively rare considering how often filmmakers like to talk about their craft, and good ones are even harder to find. That's partly because even the great directors run out of good production stories eventually - sure, Jaws and Raiders of the Lost Ark were fraught with disaster, but how many people really want to hear about the production of Always or The Terminal? But it's also because the subjects often want to present their work in a positive light, either due to nebulous concerns about their legacy, or because they are afraid that excess honesty might burn bridges and make it harder for them to work. That kind of mild self-censorship might be prudent, but it can get in the way of genuine insight.

Film Review: Doctor Strange (2016)

In addition to being the fourteenth film in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Scott Derrickson's Doctor Strange plays out like a microcosm of the juggernaut that birthed it. Like the MCU itself, Strange starts out relatively normal, gets odder as it goes along, is plagued by a lack of compelling antagonists, and is better at wry comedy than action or spectacle. For all the flashes of weirdness that are allowed to creep in around the edges, it is a quintessential Marvel movie, with all the positives and problems that entails.

Film Review: Into the Inferno (2016)

Considering his reputation as our foremost chronicler of Man's place in/battle with nature - one which may be defined more by the alt comedy world's fascination with him than by his actual work - it's surprising how little Werner Herzog's presence is felt in his latest, the Netflix documentary Into the Inferno. Sure, his unmistakable Bavarian drone carries the film along, and the subject matter - the destructive/cultural power of volcanoes - is perfectly suited to his unique blend of boundless curiosity and aching pessimism, but he's an almost entirely off-screen presence, and there's little sense of his personal involvement with the project. For the most part, the focus is on volcanologist Clive Oppenheimer, who serves as presenter, expert and audience surrogate as he travels the world, investigating different active volcanoes and placing them in a global, historical context.

Movie Journal: October

Queen of Katwe

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

No, not because Christmas is just around the corner (though that is a plus) but because it's awards season! Good films are finally coming out again! After what has been one of the more dispiriting summers in recent memory, the next couple of months look phenomenal and the slow drip of interesting, challenging movies started in October, as reflected by this month's list, which is less reliant on non-2016 films than usual.

In total, I watched 22 films this month, 21 of which were first time viewings. The lone rewatch was of James Whale's Frankenstein, which I hadn't seen in about a decade, and was even more haunting and gorgeous than I remembered. Karloff's performance as The Monster is one for the ages, not merely because he's convincing as a hulking mass of murderous potential, but because he also makes The Monster's fear as he's trapped in a burning building feel palpably real.

The worst film I watched was Finian's Rainbow, Francis Ford Coppola's adaptation of the 1947 musical about an Irish couple (Fred Astaire and Petula Clark) coming to America, pursued by a Leprechaun (Tommy Steele, in what may be the most grating performance ever committed to celluloid) and interrupting the lives of a small town while singing terrible, forgettable songs. Also, there's blackface for some reason. A thoroughly dispiriting watch, though it's weirdly inspirational; Coppola was only four years away from making The Godfather, after all, so anything is possible.

Without any further ado, let's talk about the best films I watched in October, 2016.