Thursday, January 14, 2016

The Revenant and Youth

                          Survival of the Fittest, Physically and Emotionally
               
                                                     Reviews by Ken Burke
                 
Take care, curious readers, for plot spoilers gallop rampantly throughout the Two Guys’ insightful reviews.  Therefore, be warned, beware, and read on when you’re ready to be transported to … wherever we end up.  Please protect your eyes from the dazzling brilliance.
                  
                       The Revenant (Alejandro Gonzáles Iñárritu)
                                
Hugh Glass, an early 19th-century frontiersman on a pelt-gathering mission is mauled by a bear, then left for dead by his companions, one of which is responsible for the decision even though he knows Glass is still alive; upon revival, Glass endures a series of hardships as he travels across miles of snow-bound country to find and avenge himself on this evil traitor.
                           
What Happens: Back in the snow-covered-winter of 1823, in the northwest region of the vast Louisiana Purchase, a group of fur trappers led by Captain Andrew Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) is attacked by a tribe of Arikara Indians, with several of the hunters killed or wounded (the flowing camerawork is magnificent from the beginning, slowly tracking through great vistas of open countryside; then in this first attack, the action becomes frantic but not the editing where wide shots are held throughout the action, forcing us to understand what it’s like to hopefully dodge arrows that seemingly come from nowhere).  Their chief scout, Hugh Glass (Leonardo Di Caprio)—along with his half-Pawnee son, Hawk (Forrest Goodluck)—insists that they get away from the river (the Missouri, I think, but it matters not) by heading inland back to Fort Kiowa.  However, along the way Glass decides to shoot a couple of bear cubs, a huge mistake as their furious mother suddenly appears, mauling Glass within an inch of his life (no, despite silly reports to the contrary, the bear didn’t rape him—especially because it was a female bear, whom I don’t think was that interested in oral sex).  Glass is being carried on a stretcher but the terrain’s getting too difficult to take him any further so Capt. Henry agrees to pay 2 volunteers extra if they stay behind with their severely-wounded companion and his son, then give Glass a proper burial when he dies.  However, one of them, irascible John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), is impatient for that to happen so he digs the grave, attempts to kills Glass, is interrupted by Hawk whom he stabs to death then hides the body in the woods, tells gullible kid Jim Bridger (Will Poulter) that Glass is dead and Hawk has disappeared, tosses Glass into the grave with barely enough dirt to cover him, then heads off to the fort with Bridger, where they claim a natural death and decent burial for Glass then collect their pay.

 Eventually, Glass revives, drags himself through the wilderness until he regains enough strength to walk, uses some lit gunpowder to cauterize the open wounds on his neck, survives a tumble into an icy river and over a waterfall, eats a raw fish and the liver of a dead bison (shared with a Pawnee man he can converse with after a hunting party has left the beast behind; this man also tends to Glass’ wounds, although the Indian’s later killed by French trappers), then eventually makes his way back to the fort.  On the way, though, he manages to rescue an Indian woman held as a sex prisoner by those same Frenchmen; we eventually learn that she’s Powaqa (Melaw Nakehk’o) the lost daughter of the Arikara Chief (Anthony Starlight), who’s been looking for her all through the film in a parallel story to that of Glass (who has frequent flashbacks to when soldiers raided the camp where he lived with his Pawnee wife and son, killing and burning all but him and the boy).  As he regains his health, Glass forgives Bridger but sets out to find Fitzgerald, more furious with him for killing Hawk (which he was conscious enough to witness but was too damaged to talk when Bridger returned to the scene) than even for his own abandonment in the woods; they battle in hand-to-hand-combat until Fitzgerald’s wounded, then the Chief and his party (including Powaqa) happen by so Glass pushes his enemy into the river where he washes down the short distance to the Indians who finish him off.  (There’s a lot more on how this arduous journey finally comes to an end but it’s all just further extensions—including Hugh surviving a snow storm, after a band of Indians chase him off a cliff, by cutting open his dead horse, removing the entrails, then sleeping overnight in the somewhat-warm-carcass—of Glass’ desperate desire for survival and revenge, dragging us with him for 2 ½ hours.)

So What? Nowhere in this film (that I recall) do we ever hear the use of the word “revenant,” which generally comes from European folklore about a corpse that returns form the grave to wreck havoc on the surrounding community.  Of course, Glass wasn’t actually dead when he was left for such back in the woods (reminding me a bit [probably because it’s hard to go a day now without some new update on the further-box-office-triumphs of … The Force Awakens] of episodes III, IV, and V of the Star Wars series, the first where the younger Obi-Wan Kenobi [Ewan McGregor] thinks the now-Dark Side-controlled-Anakin Skywalker’s [Hayden Christensen] mortally wounded so he leaves him to die after their climatic-battle only to find his enemy survives and eventually, as the vicious Darth Vader, will cause his death much later in life [but with the roles reversed in The Revenant regarding hero and villain], just as Anakin’s son, Luke [Mark Hamill], will also survive a bitter night in the frozen elements of the ice-planet Hoth by means of rescuer Han Solo [Harrison Ford] slicing open his dead tauntaun steed, removing the innards, then the 2 of them sleeping off the wind [and smell of a freshly-dead-animal] in that carcass until a new day brings new command over the elements), but he sure as hell brings cunning and chaos to his final encounter with Fitzgerald (catching him by surprise by propping up the body of dead-companion-Capt. Henry [killed by Fitzgerald] on a horse so that when John shoots the corpse from afar with a rifle, then comes down to verify Hugh’s demise he’s caught off guard by Glass hiding under a blanket on the other horse, setting in motion their drawn-out-battle-to-the-death).  This all makes for exciting storytelling, just as Iñárritu’s no-compromise-filmmaking (minimum of special effects, maximum of real stunts—including DiCaprio’s consumption of raw liver) in actual locations under natural lighting forced an extended production schedule, shooting in northern Canada and southern Argentina to find such huge-snow-laden-vistas, as climate change (yes, deniers, it does exist) required moving to extreme locations nearer the poles.  

 Further, such accounts as we have of Glass’ life indicate that there was at least one more additionally-grotesque-incident that wasn’t shown, Glass voluntarily allowing maggots to eat the rotting flesh off his back, but that would have been impossible to show here anyway because all of the film’s story takes place in winter (when maggots aren’t crawling around on the outside of trees as Hugh found them) rather than the reality that Glass’ true ordeal began in the summer.

 In fact (as best we know the truth in this case), a lot of what’s presented in this yet-another-major-Hollywood-production-of 2015-inspired-by-true-events is inaccurate or at least questionable because while the basic bear-attack/struggle-to-return-to-civilization-misery of Hugh Glass did happen, very little of its details can be verified by historical record while various aspects of it seem to have been enhanced in the retellings (possibly including an 1823 dime novel, The Frontiersman, about these adventures that you can get acquire by scrolling down through the film’s official site, located far below as the first listing for The Revenant in my Related Links section of this posting), then found its way into a fictional work based on these stories by Michael Punke, The Revenant: A Novel of Revenge (2002) which serves as the basis for Iñárritu’s film.  I’m not saying that the various fabrications (including the reality that Glass had no son by his Pawnee wife, so there was no Hawk to kill nor that most vengeful reason for his conflict with Fitzgerald who was actually forgiven for his abandonment-actions—along with Bridger—by the real Hugh Glass; you can find more of this sort of debunking at the History vs Hollywood site) undermine the story as presented on screen; in fact, they enhance it, making it a very positively-embraced-film by critics and audiences.  It’s gotten 80% positive reviews from Rotten Tomatoes, 77 % from Metacritic plus a gross of about $41.3 million after just recently going wide to 3,375 theaters—of course it’s got a lot more to go to top its $135 million budget but after just winning the Golden Globe awards for Motion Picture, Drama as well as Director and Actor for Motion Picture, Drama I think its box-office-success will continue for quite awhile as little new product of any note usually makes its way into the market in January when most of the attention is given to catching up with 2015 releases that have benefitted from Globe trophies and/or Oscar nominations (due in the early morning of January 14, about 12 hours from when I’m now typing).  

 Based on what I’ve seen of the 2015 cinema-options so far, I’d even be easily convinced of Oscars for The Revenant in the categories of Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Cinematography (although I still hold out my Best Picture sympathies for Spotlight [Tom McCarthy; review in our November 19, 2015 posting]); however, it’s a bit of a disappointment to find that many of the most dramatic events of Glass’ story as shown here aren’t accurate, nor are we even sure how far he traveled back to Ft. Kiowa (the presumption is about 200 miles but earlier tellings of the tale imply more like 50).  Had this all been dreamed-up-fiction, I’d have no trouble with it as it’s a most compelling story, but when you learn how much it’s been enhanced, added to the narrative structure of the stretched-out-sense of “Let’s see how many adrenaline-rushes we can squeeze out of our audience," my Best Picture-enthusiasm (along with a normally-high-as-you-can-expect-from-me-4-star-rating) begins to wane.

Bottom Line Final Comments: As much as I admire the grit and determination that pushed the involved filmmakers to complete this difficult task (and feel empathy for those who quit or were fired in the process because of the demanding production conditions), along with my general applause for the elements of well-constructed-then-released-tension in the story, constantly-stunning-vistas of gorgeous landscape cinematography, and an iron will on the part of DiCaprio to rise above the “pretty boy” stigma that may have kept him from previously earning the full-thespian-respect he’s been due for a long, successful on-screen-career (although whatever disparagements may have been made about appearance over substance certainly haven’t diminished his salary offers nor the Oscar nominations and wins in other awards competitions that have come his way), I have to say that part of my response to The Revenant is the same as what I felt about Mad Max: Fury Road (George Miller; review in our May 20, 2015 posting) and Pixar’s The Good Dinosaur (Peter Sohn; review in our December 10, 2015 posting): It just goes on and on with crisis-and-escape-scenarios that get tedious at times (although I’m clearly in the minority with … Fury Road as it’s getting all kinds of accolades on various critic’s lists that you can explore in the 2nd cluster of my Related Links section at the end of this posting).  The Revenant has a lot of useful things to say about the unnecessary hatred and violence between one group of humans and another (as we acknowledge that many of the White hunters and settlers who came west were the ones who first attempted to slaughter the Native Americans already living there, but once the retaliation/counter-retaliation began there was apparently no hope for coexistence from either side except on a 1-to-1 basis as shown with Glass’ various hostile or humane Indian encounters), the unnecessary exploitation of natural resources (the trappers had plenty of pelts already so why did Glass think it would be useful—fun?—to shoot the cubs, even if he had been more aware of where protective mama was located? [She’s finally killed but when they both tumble over a shallow cliff with her landing on top of him it’s a wonder that he didn’t die from the impact of such a large, heavy animal]), but it hammers too much on one aspect of its storyline, possibly dictated by its written source material.  Too bad Hugh Glass couldn't see ABC’s Good Morning America back then or he might have watched this segment on surviving bear attacks (broadcast well before The Revenant opened, although they don’t say anything about shooting at cubs).

 I will say, though, that The Revenant’s honest about the inherent brutality required to survive life in the harsh wilderness, especially for the guys ultimately from much further east who obviously come out west only to secure valuable commodities, not to live off the land like the Natives they were trying to eradicate or the true mountain men who just settled in.  But, even as impressive as all that is, this film’s still basically just a heal-from-the-beating-then-take-revenge-scenario, as perfected long ago by Clint Eastwood over the course of a career from A Fistful of Dollars (Sergio Leone, 1964) to Unforgiven (Eastwood, 1992).  It’s all well-crafted, superb in many areas, but ultimately gets a bit overlong and repetitious (even after he heals from the bear attack, Glass keeps getting injured in his various challenges, although not nearly as badly as at first, so it seems like he just keeps stumbling from one disaster to the next before a search party from the fort finally gets wind of who they think is Hawk, then rides out to find Glass instead).  Despite my reservations about certain aspects of this film, I do like it and feel that I’ve found an appropriate Musical Metaphor to speak to The Revenant’s situations with this intrepid-trapper, which in the process also offers a tiny memorial tribute to the just-departed David Bowie, a genius of contemporary music who’s now gone from our midst but will long be remembered; I’ve chosen the song he created with the group Queen, “Under Pressure” (originally recorded in 1981, found on Queen’s 1982 Hot Space album [and several others] along with the 2002 Best of Bowie album) at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psYQMY69gLo for the official music video (with a great number of traumatic and destructive scenes, including shots from many older films such as renown classics Nosferatu [F.W. Murnau, 1922] and The Battleship Potemkin [Sergei Eisenstein, 1925]; I don’t know if this letterbox-stretched-video-format is an intentional artistic choice or just a YouTube uploading problem) or here at https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=YoDh_gHDvkk for a live performance. Despite the roughly 150 years between Glass’ odyssey and this song I think he’d easily relate to lines like “Pressure pushing down on me,”  “It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about,”  “Pray tomorrow takes me higher,”  “Kick my brains round the floor These are the days It never rains but it pours,” but also  “Why can’t we give love that one more chance?” that at least the cinematic-version of long-ago-Hugh considers in forgiving Jim Bridger for the tragedy endured by Glass as he realizes that this kid knew nothing of how John Fitzgerald was conning him about Hugh’s unfinished-condition or his son Hawk’s terrible-fate.
                  
                                                   Youth (Paolo Sorrentino)
             
A retired composer/conductor and an elderly-but-still-working film director have known each other for years, then meet up at an exquisite resort in Switzerland; the composer’s in a tiff with his daughter about his past life with his wife, even as he’s being pursued by agents of the Queen of England to perform his most famous work in return for a knighthood.
                     
What Happens: Set in contemporary times, we find retired composer/conductor Fred Ballinger (Michael Caine) at a luxury resort in Switzerland’s Alps (the actual Waldhaus Flims hotel there) where his daughter Lena (Rachel Weisz) has arranged for daily creature-comforts for him even as she wants a break from his presence because she’s angry with his past disregard for her mother when he was traveling so much during his famous career; she’s about to be further upset when her husband, Julian Boyle (Ed Stoppard), tells her he’s leaving to be with pop singer Paloma Faith (playing herself in a good-natured-manner, considering what an airhead she’s made out to be in this film; I know nothing of her career but apparently she’s quite famous and well-received in the U.K.).  Julian’s dad, Mick Boyle (Harvey Keitel)—a famous film director—is also at the spa, working furiously on what he considers to his ultimate “film testament,” as he’s nearing 80, assuming that his career will soon be done, as is his long-time-friend, Fred’s (yet, Fred continues to find musical inspiration everywhere, including the rhythm of unwrapping a candy wrapper or “conducting” the sounds of wind and cows as he gazes out on the nearby countryside).  While Mick struggles to complete the script for his grand finale (he finally has the morbid title, Life’s Last Day), Fred obstinately refuses a request from Queen Elizabeth to once again conduct his famous “Simple Songs” at a performance on Prince Philip’s birthday in return for being granted a knighthood.  When both Lena and the Queen’s emissary (Alex Macqueen) are coincidently back at the hotel in Fred’s room, he finally blurts out that the soprano-singing of the “Songs” is intended only for his wife, who can no longer sing (implications are that she’s dead, but we find out at the end of the story that she fading away in dementia, so in a manner of speaking she’s almost dead to Fred anyway).  

 Various interesting images and evening performances at the hotel (along with other aspects of this film to be discussed below) evoke Federico Fellini’s famous 8½ (1963), as does the general flow of Youth which seems in no hurry to resolve itself in any direction, including what the odd masseuse (Luna Mijovic) is up to or what the role is that noted young actor Jimmy Tree (Paul Dano) is there to research, as he periodically offers moral support to Fred while lamenting that he wants to be remembered as a significant actor not for his silly robot role in a series of successful pop movies.

 When Youth does come together, we find that Lena’s touched by Fred’s refusal to participate in a performance of her Dad’s “Simple Songs” in tribute to her not-actually-forgotten-about-Mom; Mick’s devastated because even after he’s resolved his script problems that his only choice for lead actress, Brenda Morel (Jane Fonda, aged greatly with makeup)—despite working with Mick on 11 of his previous movies—insists on turning him down both because she’s signed a 3-year-contract with a TV series (she needs the cash to pay for her impending divorce, a son who needs rehab, and a house she wants in Florida) and because she’s lost respect for his work; Jimmy’s mystery role is Adolph Hitler, whom he wants to present in a less-than-horrific-light (one scene where he strides into the hotel in full costume and mustache is very jarring because it seems to be another dream-sequence, as we had early on where Fred saw himself as alone and drowning in Venice, Italy’s St. Mark’s Square);  a couple (Heidi Maria Glössner, Helmut Förnbacher) who never talk at dinner end their meal one night when she viciously slaps him but when strolling the grounds the next day Fred and Mick see them having sex against a tree; a Buddhist monk (Dorji Wangchuk) Fred thinks is a charlatan finally does levitate, even though no one but us observes this; and Mick, in an unexpected moment of existential despair, commits suicide, which in turns leads to Fred finally visiting his long-lost-wife, Melanie (Sonia Gessner), in a Venice rest home then agreeing to the Queen’s request which ends the film with a mesmerizing rendition of "Simple Song #3".

So What? Youth does a very fine job of quietly exploring how what might look like easy-to-solve-problems from one person’s perspective aren’t at all that smoothly-resolvable for the person who’s actually experiencing the problem, even if the outsider in the case of this film is Fred’s daughter (where visiting his wife is concerned) or Fred himself (where his friend Mick’s creative strivings are concerned).  When we first hear Lena berating Fred for his absence from her mother it feels to me (based on other comments within the film until its very end) that she’s already dead so the chastisement sounds like it’s about not making a journey to her grave (I couldn’t join in with Lena's agitation, though, considering that my mother died in 2008 but I’ve yet to return from California to her small-town-cemetery in west Texas just to see her name carved on a small stone monument).  His absence from his spouse becomes much more poignant when we understand that she’s still alive, living out her lost days completely lost to Fred in a heavy fog of dementia (harsh as it may sound, I can’t really blame him much for that either, as she’s now only a shell of the woman he so deeply loved when she could share her consciousness with him; I recall how hard it was for my father to travel the couple of hundred miles needed to visit his mother at a rest home in Austin, TX where she spent her final 5 years after a series of strokes that left her totally incapacitated—when I’d occasionally make that trip [same distance, different starting point] it was horrible for me to see this formerly loving, content woman just lying in a fetal position in a bed, tubes in her body to insert and extract liquids, just waiting silently [with who knows what level of awareness] for the long-needed-opportunity to die).  These sad family experiences give me some insight into Fred’s unwillingness to come back to his wife’s room for years—a cognitively-sterile-location looking out onto her (possible) incomprehension of the beautiful city that surrounds her.

 Similarly, Fred can’t truly know how devastated Mick is when Brenda refuses to participate in his magnum opus, a film that he’s intended to be the culmination of his long-cinematic-career that needs her presence in order to function as conceived; nevertheless, she rejects his offer, belittling him with the news both that the income from the TV series is more important to her and she doesn’t feel that Mick’s last few films were any good anyway.  Mick tries to convince himself (or, at least, Fred) that he can continue, even at his advanced age, to move on to something else filmically-relevant, but either that’s bluster that he suddenly decides he can no longer maintain or it’s just a melodramatic event needed to hurry this film along to its climax (with the narrative function of encouraging Fred to finally see his wife again while he still can); either way, Mick's bravado changes direction in a flash as he jumps to his death from a balcony right in front of Fred, surprising his colleague and us with such a seemingly-rash-act-of-finality.  As for the film’s finality, it ends on a very tranquil note, after the previous scenes of sorrow, with that stirring performance of one of Fred’s “Simple Songs,” given great presence by vocalist Sumi Jo, featured violinist Viktoria Mullova, the BBC Concert Orchestra, and the Berlin Radio Choir.  Whatever shortcomings I may feel about Youth, I can’t helped but be moved by this lovely piece of music even though I’m no great fan of operatic-presentation (for a novice [yokel?] like me it helps that the clip provided for you above also contains the direct—but emotionally-touching—lyrics which I often times have trouble comprehending even when an opera singer’s trying to help me out with English rather than some other language which immediately forces me into the realm of subtitles).

Bottom Line Final Comments: When the Oscars for 2013 films were given out I was quite happy to see Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty (review in our December 12, 2013 posting) take the gold for Best Foreign Language Film because I was mesmerized by its exquisite visuals and haunting score—including "My Heart's in the Highlands" (my music-loving-wife, Nina, was so taken by the soundtrack that she ordered the CD [all 29 cuts of it] straight from Italy; no bargain but that’s the only way it was available at the time though now you can get it from Amazon or iTunes for a much more reasonable price)—however, I noted then that the film borrows noticeably at times from Fellini, especially La Dolce Vita (1960).  With Youth, Sorrentino’s delving into Fellini territory again, but this time instead of just evoking the master’s overall attitudes and themes he’s blatantly taken considerable detail from another of the great classics of modern cinema, 8½ (the odd title comes from the fact that it was Fellini’s “eight and a half-th” film, counting a few short segments he did for anthology compilations; like La Dolce Vita, winner of the 1960 Palme d’Or top prize at the Cannes Film Festival, 8½ is well-known, highly-celebrated, winner of the 1963 Foreign Language Film Oscar): a struggling artist visits an exquisite spa while trying to take command of his elusive new project only to find himself confronting a significant woman from his past along with visions of others from his previous films (like Mick in Youth); tracking shots across the grounds of the spa reveal an odd but intriguing clientele; in one version of the ending the troubled artist takes his own life but in another he survives to embrace his art (in Youth this is spilt into the 2 protagonists, with Mick successful in his suicide—but done so suddenly as to imply a quick assumption of this being a surreal-imaginary-scene just as we’re encouraged to interpret as unreal the sudden appearance of the nude Miss Universe [Madalina Ghenea] in the pool with Fred and Mick [a trick by the director on his male actors in order to capture their spontaneous fascination with her fetching body; as we elder gentlemen always say, “I may be old but I ain’t dead yet!”]—and Fred reclaiming command of his music by conducting his song for the Queen); the gaggle of fellow-filmmakers contributing little to Mick’s creative block just as 8½’s Guido (Marcello Mastroianni) has a pesky producer who does little to help him find the resolutions he needs for his stalled project; the sense of failure with past female relationships by Guido is mirrored with the sad outcomes of Fred and his wife, as well as Mick and Brenda in Youth.

 I can’t blame Sorrentino for being influenced by his famous countryman in now 2 of his own notable works, but unlike with The Great Beauty where it was just the spirit of Fellini’s former film that found new life and expression in another critical look at the spoiled rich of Rome, with Youth I feel there’s just too much of an unacknowledged-remake of 8½ (which at times feels way too much like imitation rather than homage) that makes it hard for me to fully appreciate what this current director’s attempting to do with well-established-themes-and-approaches from a monument of world cinema.  This is not to say that Youth is a failure because it still contains a wealth of exquisite images (landscapes and water-based-visuals at the hotel), hauntingly-engaging music, and fine acting that draws you in (some speculate that it may lead to a Best Actor Oscar nomination for Caine, although Keitel, Weisz, Dano, and Fonda—a Best Supporting Actress possibility herself—add a lot to the enjoyment of Youth).  It’s just the nagging fact that it feels like he’s taking too much from Fellini while still keeping up the illusion that he’s got his own concept brewing here; I wish he’d either made this film more ambiguous and disturbing in full-blown 8½ mode (although there’s a good bit of weirdness here already; admittedly, Fellini’s triumph is one of my favorites, so it’s hard to disengage myself from the too-frequent-connections Youth makes to this masterpiece) or found another narrative structure entirely to explore the theme of declining years of once-lauded-artists.
  
This photo's from Youth, not Stardust Memories; it's meant to
connect satirically with the "Young World" song just as it does
 with the Youth film content
(and it's just too indicative of Youth
  
and its odd visualizations to not find a use for it in this review)
 For a film that’s inspired by 8½ but doesn’t overly-embed itself with references and allusions (except for the hilarious opening sequence parodying how Fellini began his work), I’d offer Woody Allen’s fabulous Stardust Memories (1980)—also about a well-known-director haunted by the success of his past work—plus you get some sensual scenes with fabulous Charlotte Rampling, herself a possible current Best Actress nominee for 45 Years (Andrew Haigh, 2015), which I hope to see soon.  Casting about for a Musical Metaphor to complete my comments on Youth, I’m drawn to Ricky Nelson’s “Young World” (a 1962 hit single that can be found on his 1985 All My Best album) at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=9j9Zk8DFt5w where the lyrics of “All of the world is a treasure When you have someone to care Promise me your love forever We’ll have the whole world to share” in their hopeful simplicity cast a melancholy light on how difficult it’s been for Fred, Mick, Lena, Brenda, and probably even Jimmy to achieve that elusive dream that Sorrentino so-close-to-successfully evokes in his curious film.

Photo of the most important items in
this paragraph, #1 and #4
 In closing, now that President Obama has given his State of the Union address I’ll offer my own brief state of the Two Guys in the Dark blog with updates on a few personal things that I’ve noted over the past year:  (1) Our new (but settling in nicely since last February 15) cat, Bella, seems to finally be over her initial-feral-days-inducted-maladies (after about $4,000 spent, 10 teeth pulled, and warding off the very dangerous [to her and us] Bartonella-disease) so, as of today at least, she seems to be healthy, rash-free, and enjoying life in her new home; (2) The quest goes on at San Leandro, CA’s Englander Sports Pub and Restaurant to taste every one of their on-tap-beers (begun on October 8, 2014 but, sadly, not done every week because of various insidious interruptions) as we've had 68 so far with about 15 to go (plus they keep rotating in some new ones so the treasure-hunt’s long from done), but I have to admit that so far for the darker, heavier ales I still prefer Guinness Stout and for the lighter lagers I’m still most impressed with Kona Long Board (from Hawaii’s Big Island, where we’ve visited the brewery; for that matter, we had a pint at the Guinness brewery in Dublin a few years ago as well), which was the case when we started this venture but this is definitely a situation where it’s all about the journey; (3) Star Wars: The Force Awakens (J.J. Abrams, 2015; review in our  December 31, 2015 posting) continues to rack up success at the global box-office, now standing as both the income champ for domestic (U.S. and Canada) 2015 and the All-Time Domestic leader ($819.7 million at my “press” time), plus #3 ($1.8 billion) in the All-Time Worldwide tallies (behind only James Cameron’s powerhouses of Avatar [2009] and Titanic [1997], with roughly $2.8 and $2.2 billion respectively)—this new Star Wars episode also helped push the 2015 global box-office-take to an all-time-annual-high of $38 billion, with plenty of contributions from others such as Jurassic World (Colin Trevorrow; review in our June 17, 2015 posting), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Joss Whedon; review in our May 7, 2015 posting), Furious 7 (James Wan; review in our April 15, 2015 posting), and Minions (Pierre Coffin; no review from us—snobs that we are—despite its success), even with all of the worldwide economic difficulties last year that might have impeded ticket sales, and (4) My marvelous wife, Nina, may finally be getting some relief to her right hip from a 3-weeks-ago-cortisone shot, giving her a bit better mobility as we wait patiently for hip-replacement-surgery sometime this coming spring.  

 Well, that’s all for 2015 updates except for commentary-to-come on the soon-to-be-released Oscar nominations for the films of last year (that announcement coming not very long at all after I get these rambling reviews posted) so I know I’ll be offering various tidbits, predictions, and chatter about personal favorites over the next month prior to the awards ceremony on February 28, 2016.
                               
Related Links Which You Might Find Interesting:
                     
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AND … at least until the Oscars for 2015’s releases have been awarded on Sunday, February 28, 2016 we’re also going to include reminders in each posting of very informative links where you can get updated tallies of which 2015 films made various individual critic’s  Top 10 lists and which ones have been nominated for and/or received various awards.  You may find the diversity among the various critics and the various awards competitions hard to reconcile at times—not to mention the often-significant-gap between critics’ choices and competition-award-winners (which usually pales in comparison to the even-more-noticeable-gap between box-office-success that you might want to monitor here, and the actual award-winners)—but as that less-than-enthusiastic-patron-of-the-arts, Plato, noted in The Symposium (385-380 BC)—roughly translated, depending on how accurate you wish the actual quote to be—“Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,” so your choices are as valid as any of these others, especially if you can offer some rationale for your decisions (unlike many of the awards voters who simply fill out ballots, sometimes for films they’ve never seen).

To save you a little scrolling through the “various awards” list above, here are the Golden Globe winners for films and TV from 2015.

Here’s more information about The Revenant:



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCSbFkR_sYU (14:03 discussion with director Alejandro González Iñárritu, actor Leonardo DiCaprio, writer Mark L. Smith, supervising sound editor Randy Thom, visual effects supervisor Richard McBride, and costume designer Jacqueline West) and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EE9bwI0PmAY (10 things you don’t know about The Relevant, including early plans to have either Samuel L. Jackson or Christian Bale in the lead)



Here’s more information about Youth:



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1MeII33xZ4o (the film's entire soundtrack [1:05:50], an audiovisual experience that you can best get a sense of from looking at the photos linked to the review above and listening to this music rather than watching filmmakers and actors attempt to transform Sorrentino’s visions into words, which he wasn't always that successful with either)



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If you’d rather contact Ken directly rather than leaving a comment here please use my new email at kenburke409@gmail.com.  Thanks.

By the way, if you’re ever at The Hotel California knock on my door—but you know what the check out policy is so be prepared to stay for awhile.    Ken

P.S.  Just to show that I haven’t fully flushed Texas out of my system here’s an alternative destination for you, Home in a Texas Bar, with Gary P. Nunn and Jerry Jeff Walker.
                  
WE DO OUR VERY BEST TO PRESENT THESE TWO GUYS POSTINGS IN A VISUALLY-CONSIDERED GRAPHIC LAYOUT, BUT EXTENSIVE TRIAL-AND-ERROR HAS SHOWN US THAT UNLESS YOU’RE READING OUR REVIEWS ON A MACINTOSH COMPUTER USING MAC OS X 10.10.5 AND SAFARI 9.0.2 YOU’LL LIKELY SEE A SLOPPIER PRESENTATION THAN WHAT WE INTENDED (but Google Chrome 47.0.2526.106 usually comes fairly close to our intentions).  OUR APOLOGIES FOR ANY INADVERTENT MESS THAT WE HAVEN’T YET FOUND A SUCCESSFUL WAY TO CONTROL.

Monday, January 11, 2016

The Danish Girl and Carol

                 “Pretty woman, walkin’ down the street 
                  Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet”
                                                                                        Roy Orbison, 1964
                     
                                                  Review by Ken Burke
                   
As with Concussion (Peter Landessman) and The Big Short (Adam McKay) from my previous posting this new exploration of 2 current films also lends itself to a combo review so I’ll weave my comments around each of them, while trying not to lose a focus on either, as we journey onward.
                 
Take care, curious readers, for plot spoilers gallop rampantly throughout the Two Guys’ insightful reviews.  Therefore, be warned, beware, and read on when you’re ready to be transported to … wherever we end up.  Please protect your eyes from the dazzling brilliance.
                   
                                                The Danish Girl (Tom Hooper)
                
Based on historical events, in 1926 Copenhagen a young married artist couple are living quite nicely until the husband starts feeling urges to present himself as a woman named Lili, even to the point of kissing other men; his wife is confused and angered at first but then becomes very supportive as he feels he must undergo sexual surgery to find the true woman within.
                    
                                                            Carol (Todd Haynes)
                    
In the early 1950s a middle-aged married woman starts flirting with a Manhattan shopgirl (who also has a boyfriend eager for marriage) leading to an attempt to run away together which brings about dramatic complications when the husband demands sole custody of their daughter, a condition the wife’s not prepared to accept leaving both of the women in despair.
                   
What Happens: We’ll begin in 1926 Copenhagen (with events taken from history), where young-married-artists (she with portraits, he with landscapes—especially a view of 6 winter-barren-trees that look more like sculptures against the background sky, images that he slowly completes or repeats; Haynes adds his own impactful visuals, gorgeous landscape and urban shots throughout the film, indicative of the name of one of the production companies, Pretty Pictures) Gerda (Alicia Vikander) and Einar Wegener (Eddie Redmayne, a likely-Best Actor-Oscar-nominee for another stunningly-transformative-role) are getting by in their version of hip society although, compared to Einar’s acceptance, Gerda’s work isn’t being embraced for showings like she fiercely thinks it should be, characteristic of her assertive nature.  By chance, one day her model can’t make it to their studios to pose so she recruits slim Einar to put on some stockings and a dress to fill in; he begins to quietly find fascination with these garments (proving to be no big shock when good friend Ulla [Amber Heard] bursts in, immediately accepting his appearance, renaming him Lili).  Soon, this fascination with women’s clothes leads to Einar admiring Lily’s nightgown as he helps her remove it for sex, then we find in another scene that he’s wearing it under his clothes as she helps him disrobe (with no qualms about his attire) for another roll in the sheets.  Lili first fully emerges, though, when Einar’s about to reject attendance at an artists’ ball but is encouraged by Gerda to go fully transformed by dress, stockings, heels, makeup, and wig as Lili Elbe, Einar’s “cousin.”  He’s immediately the bell of the ball, attracting the attention of several men, including Henrik (Ben Whishaw) who pursues him enough to get a kiss which Gerda sees, angrily from across the room.

 Slowly she begins to accept the presence of Lili, though, both because she understands that Einar’s always had a fascination with his feminine side (he kissed a boy, a childhood friend) and because Lili makes a successful subject for her, providing a wealth of drawings and paintings that vault her into the realm of trendy artists of her society, so much so that she gets a fabulous opportunity for them to move to Paris where her work will now be handled by a dealer (while there Einar attends a peep-show-theatre where he’s not so much ogling a semi-nude-woman [Sonya Cullingford] as copying her mannerisms, which she accepts as a form of flattery).  Lili’s taking over Einar, though, much to Gerda’s distress (he evens tries painful radiation therapy as a “cure” but with no success), so she calls in art dealer Hans Axgil (Matthias Schoenaerts)—the boy long ago kissed by Einar—for help but Lili’s not interested in deferring to Einar, even as Gerda and Hans are getting more interested in each other than she’d prefer, so they all back away from each other.  Eventually, Lili needs more blatant manifestation, which Gerda has come to accept so they travel to Germany to work with Dr. Kurt Warnekros (Sebastian Koch) toward then-revolutionary-sex-reassignment-surgery, a 2-part-process that begins with the removal of the male genitalia (painful but successful), but when Lili eagerly attempts to have a vagina inserted, while she’s still in fragile recovery from the earlier procedure, her body rejects the deeper intrusion, sadly leading to her agonizing-death.  Back in Denmark, Hans takes Gerda to the countryside locale that so fascinated Einar; as they look over the familiar landscape from a hilltop the wind suddenly blows away a scarf that had belonged to Lili.

 We now jump ahead about 30 years to NYC in late 1951 (based on clues I saw; I’ve read late 1952, though) where timid shopgirl/aspiring portrait photographer Therese Belivet (Rooney Mara) works at Frankenberg’s department store, has a non-sexual-romance—so far at least, but he’s still hoping— with boyfriend Richard Semco (Jake Lacy), and generally doesn’t seem all that satisfied with her life, although she has hopes that her friend Dannie McElroy (John Magaro), who works at the New Yorks Times, might be able to get her a job there in the photo department 
(he misreads her enthusiasm for that possibility as an interest in him so he kisses her but she’s uncomfortable with that, then quickly leaves his office).  However, a more intriguing encounter comes to Therese at work when Carol Aird (Cate Blanchett) wanders into her department, buys a train set for her young daughter, Rindy (Sadie Heim, Kk Heim), then accidently (?) leaves her gloves behind, which allows curious Therese to arrange for a next-day-return, given that she has Carol’s New Jersey address and phone number.  Carol calls Therese to thank her for the gloves’ return, then invites her to lunch as a thank-you-gesture (we also learn that Carol’s in the process of divorcing her husband, Harge [Kyle Chandler], made more difficult by his unwillingness to give up on her, even though he’s still suspicious of her motives given that he knows she once had a lovers' relationship with a woman, Abby Gerhard [Sarah Paulson]).  Next, Therese’s invited out to Carol’s NJ home (Richard’s not happy with that, nor with Therese’s disinterest in his invitation for them to travel to Paris) where Harge barges in to suddenly take Rindy to Florida, causing quite a scene with both women.  Later, Carol contacts Therese to apologize for that miserable evening, comes to visit at her apartment surprising Therese with an expensive Canon camera so that she can pursue her photography more effectively, with the result that Carol and Therese are soon pursuing each other.

 Harge doubles down on the divorce proceedings, threatening Carol with a judgment of a “morality clause” against her that would give him full custody of Rindy, so Carol decides to head west for a break; Therese accepts her invitation to come along, which completely ends her romance (such as it was) with Richard.  In a Waterloo, Iowa motel room on New Year’s Eve Carol and Therese finally get sexual but find out the next day that whom they thought to be a friendly-traveling-salesman, Tommy Tucker (Cory Michael Smith), is actually a private eye who tape-recorded their tryst for Harge so Carol slips off, returning home after arranging for Abby to show up and get Therese back as well but with no connection now between them as Carol tries to work with Harge to get a reasonable settlement, which she finally does (he has full custody, she's allowed regular visits); however, admitting to herself—and Harge—that she’s fully lesbian (not even bisexual, so her marriage was likely an attempt at self-determined-“therapy” rather than a true attraction to this guy), she gets a job and an apartment in Manhattan, makes an overture to Therese (who’s now working at the … Times in the photo area but in a menial position where the older white men don’t give her much attention).  They meet for tea but are interrupted by Therese’s old co-worker, Jack Taft (Trent Roland), who whisks her off to a party (this scene also begins the film, with all the rest up to this point in flashback); she hangs around for awhile but knows that she’s still connected to Carol, so she goes to where her future lover’s having dinner, their eyes charmingly meet, we guess the rest as the screen goes to fade-out, a most-upbeat-ending for a 1950s lesbian narrative.

So What? Each of these films packs in a lot of content that speaks accurately to its presented timeframe, allowing us to somewhat understand—if not condone—earlier, harsher worldviews with their restrictive attitudes toward those who would dare to defy social norms of their age (and, sadly, still happening all too often in ours), shown by women rejecting clinging men in Carol, or abandoning those norms completely, as with a man finding that his true identity is being a woman in The Danish Girl so that he-now-she is capable of completely altering a fundamental gender alliance, not to become homosexual or even transgendered but instead fully transsexual. This earlier act of assumed-convention-defiance even comes at a time when reassignment surgery was in its infancy but being pursued not only by individuals who needed to find their true selves but also by medical pioneers who recognized that such complex procedures were needed in the pursuit of total mental/physical health for unique patients whose situations didn’t fit what nature or society had previously dictated.  There’s a lot more to know about the socio-historical period that each of these stories presents than a standard-running-time-film can present, so, starting with The Danish Girl, if you’d like to explore considerably more about Einar Wegener/Lili Elbe here’s an article that could prove very useful (it also contains some wonderfully-illustrative-imagery such as this 1928 watercolor portrait of the actual Lili by the actual Gerda that you can see in the photo just above).
  With Carol and Therese being fictional characters I can’t give you any further background on them—that is, beyond encouraging you to read Patricia Highsmith’s 1952 novel, The Price of Salt (earlier editions may show the author's name as her pseudonym, Claire Morgan, but what that original title means, I have no idea at this time—for that matter, though, The Danish Girl’s also based on a novel, of the same name as the film, by David Ebershoff [2000], itself inspired by the non-fiction-account of Wegener/Elbe by Niels Hoyer, Man Into Woman: The First Sex Change [1933]), from which this film is adapted (as usual, I haven’t read it, but a summary shows that the screenplay of The Danish Girl follows the novel's plot points very closely with surely much more background detail and intimate understanding of these women, in that a 288-page-book [in the paperback edition] would yield about a 5-hour-script if transferred literally into cinematic format), so I’m sure you’d learn a lot more than director Haynes has had a chance to reveal to us on screen; however you could go here for an article that gives extensive background on the making of this film (and its use of Cincinnati to stand in for early-1950s Manhattan, as well as being shot in measly Super 16mm to give the images a dated, grainy look), with a bit of insight on why it may be hard for contemporary audiences (now living in a society where the U.S. Supreme Court has finally declared homosexual marriage to be legal—belatedly joining other countries who’d previously done so—even though individual states and communities are still trying to deny implementation) to truly understand the painful stigma facing these women in the cocky, confident, yet totally-uptight ‘50s.

 While I’m not ready to post a Top 10 list for 2015 films yet because there are still a few more of them drawing serious attention that I’ve yet to see (including The Revenant [Alejandro González Iñárritu], 45 Years [Andrew Haigh], The Hateful Eight [Quentin Tarantino], Anomalisa [Charlie Kaufman, Duke Johnson], and the leading foreign-language-feature at this point, Son of Saul [László Nemes]), I can definitely say that The Danish Girl and Carol will both be strong contenders for me (along with positive possibilities for both of them to include some of my favorites in specific areas such as acting, directing, screenwriting, etc.; I also can say that Carol's already been on an enormous number of Top 10 critics’ lists, a well-deserved accolade, but except for Oscar-buzz for Redmayne The Danish Girl hasn’t been so well-received, a status I can’t explain except that I’ve seen it’s been criticized for omitting too much of the actual historical record, a failing that often befalls “based on a true story” films) for that list because both are compelling stories of fascinating characters presented in such a manner as to inspire emotional investment in their stories, critical praise for their conception and execution, and respect for the dignity and sensitivity that each one uses to treat the delicate subjects of love and identity among members of society that have for so long been considered “immoral,” “deviant,” “disgusting” in the minds of staunch-supporters of long-held-understandings of men and women as inherently-heterosexual, defined at birth by their biological “nomenclature.”

The Danish Girl gives us historical context of a person brave enough (and pained enough by existing inner turmoil) to risk previously-untested-sexual-reassignment-surgery in order for Lili to emerge as fully-female rather than her being perceived by both men and women of her time as Einar presenting himself as a cross-dressing-female-personality (a valid choice for some others but not for her), as she might have been wrongfully judged by those who couldn’t begin to understand how biology isn’t always destiny.  Similarly, while the protagonists of Carol are fictional they clearly represent the reality of lesbians from time immemorial, shunned and shamed by social taboos but willing, where circumstances and determined-perseverance allowed, to share such “forbidden love” in clandestine situations, despite the agonizing-weight of cultural norms.  Neither film attempts to present its main characters as being more noble than the rest of us (Einar is conflicted about losing Gerda as a spouse, whereas Lili wants to keep pushing further into a new frontier of transplanted female anatomy but isn’t capable of withstanding these experimental procedures; Gerda remains a strong ally for Lili but you can always tell that the loss of her husband is terribly hard on her; Carol has plenty of swagger in that she’s stable enough to withstand being cut off from her husband’s support but is willing to harshly abandon Therese in order to stay connected to her daughter; Therese is overwhelmed by all that’s happening to her until her final decision to defy conventionality by responding to Lili’s rekindled-overture), although we do admire their ultimate decisions to be true to themselves despite the difficulties that are sure to be life-investments once they abandon the strictures their times and cultures attempt to impose on them.

Bottom Line Final Comments: Certainly, I’m not going to claim to be able to fully understand what it’s like to be lovingly (let alone sexually) attracted to a member of the same sex as me (although serious artistic explorations of this reality in literature, drama, and film certainly help offer useful insights) so I’m further inadequate to be able to truly empathize with someone who feels themselves with a need to be genuinely transgendered (although I care not about anyone’s sexual orientation nor gender identity, all of which is a personal reality for each of us no matter what the family, the law, the state, or the church has to say about it).  For me, the characters’ needs and passions in both The Danish Girl and Carol are engaging, fully humanizing, and uplifting in terms of demonstrating that the mind knows what it sincerely manifests, no matter what body may be carrying it, just as the heart knows what (really, who) it wants no matter what the previous gender expectations are that any given individual has experienced.  However, for someone who may be homosexual (or bisexual, in the possible case of the Carol protagonists, although I doubt that Carol is as much bi as she is a person who tried to conform to social norms with a marriage to a man despite never really feeling that she was properly invested in that relationship even as Therese may have always been lesbian without knowing it until the right person gave her reason to question her supposed heterosexuality) or transgender, the presentation of these characters in these films must be an extremely important viewing experience in terms of giving substance to what often has remained hidden or ridiculed in popular culture, so when none of the actors are of the gender identity that they’re portraying it becomes doubly important that their interpretations of their roles somehow find a way to ring true for those who live these non-cisgender (what we heteros likely call “traditional,” as this other term might not be known outside of transgender communities) lifestyles (where it gets tense for all concerned is when we heteros insist on identifying our identities as the only form of “normal,” as if anything else is “deviant,” the source of eons of prejudice, criminalization, and hostility toward anyone born differently from a standard-hetero-orientation, a failing we as a society are finally beginning to address legally if more slowly in societal acceptance).

 Generally, the reviews I’ve seen about the portrayals by Redmayne, Blanchett, and Mara have been quite enormously-complimentary, although here’s a brief (6:44) talk by self-identified trans person Maya about why she feels that true trans-actors are needed in films such as The Danish Girl because only they can fully understand what such characters are going through in the lives depicted on screen.  She presents her comments as being only from her own perspective, not as a spokeswoman for the entire trans community, but her concerns are what led me to my choice of a Musical Metaphor for these films, “You Are So Beautiful” (written by Billy Preston and Bruce Fisher—with uncredited-contributions from the late Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys—first recorded on Preston’s 1974 album The Kids & Me), covered by many artists over the years but very moving for me in the version by Joe Cocker (on his 1974 album I Can Stand a Little Rain) because it’s a sincere, emotionally-compelling-song no matter who sings it, no matter whom it’s being sung to, but given that sweaty Joe (as in this rendition at https://www.youtube. com/watch?v=wlDmslyGmGI, from some German TV concert in the 1990s) is no illustration of the “traditionally” suave, handsome man (hetero or elsewise) I think that his appearance and delivery of this song speak well to a confession of unrestricted love from one person to another, no matter who either of them are, no matter what they’re “expected” to be by displaced-former-lovers/spouses who’ve yet to be able to understand how their ex is no longer in their orbit (as with the men in Carol), unlike Gerda who still cares deeply for Lili, even just as dear companions rather than their previous connection as sexual mates—in fact, it was a scene in The Danish Girl where Einar, dressed as Lili, asks Gerda “Am I pretty enough?” to which she replies “You are so beautiful” that finally brought this song to my consciousness (an exchange mirrored in Carol where Therese tells Carol “You look wonderful,” as seen in this brief clip [although the original film's not this green]).

 However, in searching around for the best example of Joe singing this tender ballad I came upon a related alternative song called “You’re So Beautiful” at http:// empire.wikia.com/wiki/ You%27re_So_Beautiful_ (White_Party_Version)—a different song with a different tempo (despite the almost-identical-title) but the same sentiment—used last spring in the 1st season of FOX TV’s Empire series where the gay character of Jamal Lyon (Jussie Smollet) defies his overbearing father by coming out publically at a huge event.  Scroll down through this site to see the lyrics and play different video renditions of the song if you like, with the first one you come to (after the big ad insert), the White Party Version (from the February 25, 2015 airing), being the shocker (at least for Dad Lucious Lyon [Terrence Howard] because he was trying to keep his son’s sexual orientation private so as to not create controversy for the family recording company, plus I think that same episode also contained what they call the 90s Version of the song with more-expected-heterosexual-implications in the lyrics that Lucious assumed he’d hear at the public event).  You can also access a Full Cast Version of the song from a later Empire episode (“Unto the Breach,” aired March 4, 2015), but, after you reach that page and all of the background clutter has loaded, click on the image from the show at the upper right of the site (not the one farther down that follows the lyrics and the big ad; for some reason that one implies the clip from the show but just gives you audio with no images) to see the Lyon family singing "... Beautiful" from the March broadcast (when a larger version of that upper image comes up click the arrow to the right of it for the video to play); you might also like to see 
a merge of the 2 main versions of the song (White Party location and staging, Full Cast “hetero” lyrics) for comparison to the broadcast versions—available as well on the Empire: Original Soundtrack from Season 1 (Deluxe Edition, 2015) or all 4 takes of the tune on the huge Empire: The Complete Season 1 album (2015).  (I may not have my facts totally right here as I’m piecing this together from various sources because my wife, Nina, is the dedicated Empire fan, as she watches it while I’m doing my weekly Two Guys posting, but I didn’t want to ask her for clarification before she reads this because the Empire song’s [any of the 3 hetero-versions; I don’t have a Jamal-type-revelation-announcement to spring on anybody] also a surprise Musical Metaphor to her from me as she continues to wait for a needed hip-replacement-operation—although I admit that any of Jamal’s lyrics are “hip”per than old-school-flower-child-me, but I think she’ll get the idea anyway.)

 Given the 2 films I’m attaching the Cocker Metaphor to, it just seemed reasonable to me to get any version of Jamal’s “… Beautiful” song in here too as a little gender-balance for the males (gay or not) after the strong-female-focus of the cinematic material under discussion for this posting.  However, another additional option would be to use what I started this review with, Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman” (a huge hit in 1964, available on various Orbison compilation-albums including the 1989 A Black & White Night Live soundtrack of a 1988 TV special [performed back on September 30,1987], with this recording providing Roy with a posthumous Grammy Award in 1991 for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance), which gets us directly back to how the lead females (including Lili) are seeing each other in The Danish Girl and Carol (verifying that Roy’s lyrics, as written, don’t have to be interpreted as hetero-centric just because he’s a male singing them; I can easily imagine k.d. lang [lesbian and rightfully-proud of it] doing a fantastic version of this song, if for no other reason that she and Roy did a duet of his “Crying” [original hit, 1961] which won them a 1989 Grammy for Best Country Collaboration with Vocals), so let’s give it a spin from the Roy Orbison and Friends: A Black and White Night cablecast, shall we? 

 That’s all for this time, but I’ll be back soon with more of my ongoing-attempts to catch up with at least some of the year-end-releases, even though the Golden Globe awards have already been given (I was OK with the motion picture winners—although Spotlight [Tom McCarthy; review in our November 19, 2015 posting] is still my favorite and I’ve yet to figure out what justifies The Martian [Ridley Scott—far right in this photo; review in our October 8, 2015 posting] in their Musical or Comedy category, unless the Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s just determined to find some way to award this film; I don’t see enough of the TV nominees to care much one way or the other) and the Oscar nominations will be announced (January 14, 2016) before I’ve finally seen enough to determine my own preferences for 2015 cinema, construct my better-late-than-never-Top 10 list, then make some Oscar predictions before that ceremony rolls around (February 28, 2016).  Stay tuned for more developments (including my continuing popularity in Russia where the latest Google tally [of whatever time period they're measuring] shows my fans there at #1 of recent pageviews with 2,286 vs. #2 U.S. with 814—maybe I should start reviewing From Russia with Love [Terence Young, 1963] every couple of weeks).
              
Related Links Which You Might Find Interesting:
            
We encourage you to visit the summary of Two Guys reviews for our past posts.  Other overall notations for this blog—including Internet formatting craziness beyond our control—may be found at our Two Guys in the Dark homepage.  If you’d like to Like us on Facebook please visit our Facebook page. We appreciate your support whenever and however you can offer it.
AND … at least until the Oscars for 2015’s releases have been awarded on Sunday, February 28, 2016 we’re also going to include reminders in each posting of very informative links where you can get updated tallies of which 2015 films made various individual critic’s Top 10 lists and which ones have been nominated for and/or received various awards.  You may find the diversity among the various critics and the various awards competitions hard to reconcile at times—not to mention the often-significant-gap between critics’ choices and competition-award-winners (which usually pales in comparison to the even-more-noticeable-gap between box-office-success that you might want to monitor here, and the actual award-winners)—but as that less-than-enthusiastic-patron-of-the-arts, Plato, noted in The Symposium (385-380 BC)—roughly translated, depending on how accurate you wish the actual quote to be—“Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder,” so your choices are as valid as any of these others, especially if you can offer some rationale for your decisions (unlike many of the awards voters who simply fill out ballots, sometimes for films they’ve never seen).
            
To save you a little scrolling through the “various awards” list above, here are the Golden Globe winners for films and TV from 2015.


Here’s more information about The Danish Girl:



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SvKAcCOALTo (3:33 clip in which actor Eddie Redmayne says his approach “was to start with the history” of Lili and Gerda, director Tom Hooper describes his intentions with the film) plus https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y5vrCBfijs4 (a very short [1:53] exploration of some facts about Einar Magnus Andreas Wegener/Lili Elbe, followed by a slightly longer [5:14] look at the lives of Lili and Gerda at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwJs_Wqwiyg in an attempt by the videomaker to raise money for LGBT causes [which you're welcome to consider but Two Guys get nothing from it, except moral satisfaction, if you do])



Here’s more information about Carol:



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C26-kmRuxBc (4:57 featurette about the film, with commentary from director Todd Haynes, actor Cate Blanchett, Sarah Paulson, and lots of short clips)

Please note that to Post a Comment below about our reviews you need to have either a Google account (which you can easily get at https://accounts.google.com/NewAccount if you need to sign up) or other sign-in identification from the pull-down menu below before you preview or post.

If you’d rather contact Ken directly rather than leaving a comment here please use my new email at kenburke409@gmail.com.  Thanks.

By the way, if you’re ever at The Hotel California knock on my door—but you know what the check out policy is so be prepared to stay for awhile.    Ken

P.S.  Just to show that I haven’t fully flushed Texas out of my system here’s an alternative destination for you, Home in a Texas Bar, with Gary P. Nunn and Jerry Jeff Walker.
               
WE DO OUR VERY BEST TO PRESENT THESE TWO GUYS POSTINGS IN A VISUALLY-CONSIDERED GRAPHIC LAYOUT, BUT EXTENSIVE TRIAL-AND-ERROR HAS SHOWN US THAT UNLESS YOU’RE READING OUR REVIEWS ON A MACINTOSH COMPUTER USING MAC OS X 10.10.5 AND SAFARI 9.0.2 YOU’LL LIKELY SEE A SLOPPIER PRESENTATION THAN WHAT WE INTENDED (but Google Chrome 47.0.2526.106 usually comes fairly close to our intentions).  OUR APOLOGIES FOR ANY INADVERTENT MESS THAT WE HAVEN’T YET FOUND A SUCCESSFUL WAY TO CONTROL.