Hocus Pocus: What are the Bewitching Ingredients to this Halloween Hit?

Those who do not enjoy or choose to celebrate Halloween should still be grateful for the pagan holiday. Without Halloween, Christmas music would be permeating through every department store by mid-September, hell in some places it still does. Halloween is a buffer, a transitional holiday of sorts, one that allows us to dispel any leftover summer energy in the form of joyful dress up and frightening or comical make-believe. 

Most people would argue that horror movies are in themselves by design, Halloween Films. I disagree with this notion because it is simplistic and creatively narrow. A Halloween Film should be considered any film set on or during the Halloween season. Not all of these movies are horror movies. Some of them are children’s films, comedies and even romances. Halloween movies need exude not only horror but also hilarity as well. The best kind, in my opinion, is able to exude both. 

This is why Hocus Pocus (1993) has stood the test of time. It exists both as a film to watch with your family as well as with your friends. It is a film you can laugh at while still finding moments that leave you genuinely unsettled. Hocus Pocus was not a box-office success; on the contrary, it lost Disney a substantial amount of money upon initial release. Why then do we continue to watch, reference and place acclaim on it to this day? There are numerous reasons why Hocus Pocus has cast a spell on its audiences throughout the years, and they can only be explained like a recipe from Winifred Sanderson’s spellbook:

How to Make a Halloween Hit

1. Fill a cauldron with a talented cast. 

Hocus Pocus was originally envisioned as a tonally darker television movie until it underwent significant rewrites to enhance its comedic potential. What got it from the small screen to the multiplex you may ask? Its three female leads, all of whom were riding career highs at the time of the film’s production. Kathy Najimy had just gotten off the immense box-office hit Sister Act (1992) while Sarah Jessica Parker had just done Honeymoon in Vegas (1992) with James Caan and Nicholas Cage. It was Bette Midler’s interest in the project; however, that truly got it off its feet and into the air on a broomstick. The film lives and dies on the performance of its lead antagonist who defies convention to embrace instead an infectious campiness that makes her hysterical and horrifying all at the same time. Parker's sex appeal and Najimy's comedic timing also deserve due recognition, but it is Midler who keeps the audience transfixed from beginning to end. Credit should be given to the younger cast members as well, however. Omri Katz portrayal of our lead protagonist Max is sympathetic and charming in all of his teenage rebelliousness. His relationship with his sister Dani played wonderfully by a young Thora Birch further gives the film added depth and emotion. Vinessa Shaw is the least interesting admittedly of the three young heroes, but still does a fine job as Alison Witt. She downplays the class disparity between her and her suitor and never playing the damsel in distress but rather a competent ally to Max in his adventure throughout the film. Even the voice work done by Jason Marsden as Thackery Binx, the pilgrim turned feline evokes believable emotional investment, especially in his interactions with Dani. A funny cameo by Garry and Penny Marshall, brother and sister duo who play wife and husband in the film add further respectable gravitas to an already stellar ensemble. Overall if the cast had not been so dedicated to bringing the script to life in a way that was unique yet accessible, Hocus Pocus would be largely forgotten as a cash-grabbing Halloween flick better left to the cobwebs of cinematic history. The performances hold the test of time, however, each year when I watch it, no matter how many times I’ve seen it before, the energetic performances of each and every cast member reinvigorate my interest into following along with the dazzling tale once more. 

2. Dice up and add in a handful of musical numbers. Stir until sizzling with catchiness. 

Any good movie, from any genre of film, has to have at least one signature scene. It’s typically the first image that pops in your head when someone mentions the title. Many films have numerous ones such as The Godfather (1972), in Hocus Pocus, it's hardly a debate, however. Bette Midler’s take on Jay Hawkins classic “I Put A Spell on You” is enthralling, entertaining and undeniably toe-tapping. It is a large contribution to why the film has a special place in the gay community as the Divine Miss M shows off her vocal skills to cast a spell on the unsuspecting adults of Salem. Though Sarah Jessica Parker has stated in interviews that she and Najimy, competent singers in their own right, also contributed vocals to the track, it is unfortunate that they are not audible in any audio version I have ever come across. Regardless, while some may find the scene to be a crudely disguised excuse for fanfare, as a writer, I appreciate how the performance is integrated into the plot structurally. When Max excuses the Witches of being who they are on-stage at the Town Hall Halloween Party, how else are the Sanderson Sisters supposed to distract a room of partygoers and ensure that their young and helpless prey cannot be given any assistance or protection? They must cast a spell, but reciting some cleverly worded phrases does not an exciting scene make, so the sisters improvise, mocking the modernity of society by using their culture and music against them in the guise of a performance on their behalf. It is ingenious, credible and incredibly fun. The scene could be written twelve other ways, and none would hold a candle to the theatrics that Broadway legend Miss Midler and her two costars give in this unforgettable moment in childhood history. It is another example of how the film blends fear and comedy so well. While the performance itself is humorous and delightful, the intentions behind it are nefarious and deadly. This spell will cause these people to dance to death if the witches are not stopped by sunrise. It is an execution dressed up as a showstopper. The second, more understated musical performance is, of course, is Sarah’s bewitching original song “Come Little Children”. This leans heavier into scary Halloween territory as the witch is using this mesmerizing lullaby to lure the children of the town to their certain death. In fact, in the opening sequence of the film, it accomplishes just that with Binx’s sister Emily. The performance is brief, but it raises the stakes perfectly as the film enters its third act. The witches are armed and ready and will stop at nothing to achieve immortality, including infanticide. Again, the music plays a crucial role in supporting the plot, not just to adhere to the talents of the actresses or the desires and expectations of the audiences watching. That is why these songs and renditions linger in our heads long after we’ve first heard them. Their implications deepen as the years press on, and we understand the plot better. 

3. Aged Millennial Loyalty (locally grown preferably) 

At the end of the day, a cult film is only as strong as its followers will allow it to be. While Freeform’s constant October reruns certainly are a factor into Hocus Pocus’s longevity that doesn’t hold a Black Flame Candle to the devotion children of the 90s have towards this film. Coincidentally the film was directed by Kenny Ortega, who would go on to direct the High School Musical franchise, another staple of millennial nostalgia, particularly in the world of Disney. Hocus Pocus fans often associate the film with their fond memories of childhood. Watching it on VHS after trick-or-treating and laughing along with their parents and older siblings at the film’s many moments of adult humor. The film helps remind us of the simpler days we’ve left behind in which stories of witches coming back to life to haunt and hunt us felt like a viable fear to have alongside monsters hiding under our bed and impending acne. While there have been rumblings of a potential remake in the works for years, any such project would miss a crucial element that the original has in aplenty. That is the presence of nostalgia itself. The film was made at a time when Disney and children’s content creators, in general, were far less concerned with offending parents and guardians with troubling imagery or plot points. You could say the word "virgin" repeatedly in a film and even allude to its context. The use of practical special effects and limited CGI capabilities actually allows the film to reside in a more tangible and realistic level of existence than many similar cinematic efforts conducted today. When the Sanderson Sisters go on their broomsticks, they really are up in the air and not suspended a few feet off the ground with a green screen behind them. It is set in a time before you could use your Smartphone to inform your parents or friends that 300-year-old witches were after you or Tweet a selfie of you and your new lady friend hanging out at the Sanderson Museum on Halloween night. Hocus Pocus if made and set in contemporary times would no longer be Hocus Pocus, at least not the one so many of us connected with as children. Film historians likely won’t be speaking about it in 40 or 50 years, but those of us still alive more than likely will, especially during October. We will pass it down to our children and loved ones even if their love or admiration for it will be distinctly different than our own. It didn’t garner any acclaim during the Award Season of 1993, and yet it is critically acclaimed in the hearts and minds of us fans who watch it now as an escape, as a way back into a world we’ve long ago left behind. This is the most key ingredient in making a Halloween Hit; creating a film that will still entertain the trick-or-treater long after they’ve become the homeowner who answers the door on October 31st who worry about having to go to work the next morning. 

While many deride Hocus Pocus as overrated, overacted and underwhelming in terms of legitimate chills or chuckles, the film has an unquestionable appeal to countless people, specifically millennials who were of cognitive viewing age around the time of its release and soon after. The film’s interior is unapologetically campy, protected by an outer shell of positively ghoulish storytelling. A virgin lighting a candle and causing a trio of witches be resurrected with their sights on murdering hundreds of children doesn’t exactly sound like the feel-good film of the year, and yet for so many, it has become the film that has defined All Hallows Eve Cinema. Set on Halloween night, we follow Max, Dani and Alison every year if for nothing more than to be reminded that there was a Halloween before jello shots and self-imposed curfews. It was a film that was unafraid to challenge expectations of what children could handle and what adults would tolerate. Love it or hate it, we should all respect cinema capable of having such a lasting impression on our hearts, minds and even wardrobes. It’s more than just a bunch of hocus pocus, but even if it isn’t that for you, I certainly hope you have some piece of spooky childhood cinema or even television that you hold dear to your heart this time of year. If not, damn, damn, double damn!

"The Hunt": Who's Really on the Prowl for Controversy?

One cannot judge a film only by its trailer, though plenty of people do every day all around the world. Just look at the outrage over the upcoming cinematic adaptation of Cats (2019). Who knew a feline Jennifer Hudson warbling a famous Broadway tune could cause such enragement? Enragement has become almost a default setting for so many of us these days, which such atrocities as two mass shootings occurring within days of each other being just two of the likely culprits behind such unbridled unrest. Who fans these fires and who puts them out? This is not an easy question as it more than likely has no singular answer. People who often believe they are defusing a situation are often actually only exacerbating its results and those who wish to make it worse even more often succeed in their endeavors as well. 

The Hunt (2019) is a film from the producers of Get Out (2017) and the Insidious franchise at Blumhouse Productions. In the film, several strangers awaken in a clearing on a lavished estate and soon discover that they have been kidnapped by psychotic wealthy socialites who are paying good money to hunt them like animals. The film is obviously inspired by the beloved American short story "The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard Connell in which a big game hunter is trapped on an island with a crazed Russian man who intends to hunt and kill him for the sheer pleasure of it. I had not heard of this film before today after I saw it passively referenced in one of the President's tweets. Apparently, it has garnered some serious outrage from many conservatives over its apparent depiction of liberal elites senselessly murdering those from Middle America for fun. Many are calling for it to be pulled from its expected late-September release date. They are arguing that this is not an appropriate time for such a violent film to be released, following two horrible mass shooting in El Paso, Texas and Dayton, Ohio, respectably. The film's marketing team has already pulled several ads off of television out of respect for the victims of the shooting and their loved ones. However, this is not the only reason people are upset. Many people, including the President of the United States, believe that the film is specifically targeting Trump Supporters as its intended demographic in terms of its body count. Now, this is an argument we've been having in this country for a very long time, violence in media, and it is one we will likely never completely solve. What impact does violence in cinema have on us as a larger society? I'm not sure about the answer to this. As long as humans have existed there has been violence and excuses have been made to precipitate it. What is it about this film than, at this particular time in history that has people so riled up? Are these conservatives justified in their anger? I give you the age-old diplomatic answer:

Yes AND No.

Of course, no one wants to see themselves vilified on screen in front of thousands, potentially millions of people across the country, or even the world. Unequivocally it is not permissible to advocate for the deliberate harm of any particular group of people, whether they are coupled together by race, religion or even political affiliation. On this subject, I believe many of us on both sides can agree.

The problem is, from my perspective, after watching the film's trailer, that does not seem to be what is going on here. 

Watch the trailer for yourself and consider what is laid out for audiences. In the trailer it is made abundantly clear that the protagonist of the film is those that are being hunted, the Middle America citizens who are just trying to live their lives in peace. They are kidnapped and transported to an unknown place and face a terrifying and uncertain future. Gee, I would hate that to happen to me, especially in the so-called "Land of the Free." Isn't it a shame that we are currently inflicting such similar pains onto immigrants, including small children? Of course, we aren't hunting them for sport. Still, we do treat their lives with a degree of carelessness that makes one question the moral high ground a society really has to argue what is and what is not appropriate for entertainment consumption. We watch the news and hardly blink, and yet some of us watch fictional events in the form of a film trailer and go on a Twitter tirade.

Anyways, the point is that immediately the trailer establishes the "heroes" of the narrative to be the oppressed, not the oppressors. I've been reading online that the protagonists in the film are referred to as "Deplorables" a reference to a statement Hilary Clinton made on the campaign trail regarding those who applaud and accept Trump's perverse ideology. I've watched the trailer three times, I have not heard this reference explicitly in the dialogue, but that does not necessarily mean that it is not there. If it is, in fact, true, I believe this to be in extremely poor taste on the parts of the filmmakers. It is this kind of overt gaslighting that divides us further as a nation rather than unites us to have a useful and substantive discussion on anything. A film can be political, but not for the sake of a pointless jab that only gives the opposition more leverage in the form of pity points. I'd like to think those in the industry are better than that, but I'm sure that some are not. Whatever the main characters are being called, the film's central plot seems to involve them getting revenge on their aggressors and doing so in a violent fashion. The "elite" are clearly being punished and criticized in this trailer for their actions, not praised or sanctified. Though it is difficult to tell for sure as the character development available in the trailer is minimal on both sides of the fight. I doubt the film will end without the victims getting some justice, much like the conclusion of the original short story itself, sorry for the 50+ year old spoiler. 

So what is my primary issue with the outpouring of visceral outrage thrown towards this film, which has not even been released yet? Those who claim that the film is divisive to people with unpopular political views and insulting to survivors of recent violent shootings may seem admirable in their righteousness until you examine their anger under a closer lens. They don't seem to be upset that the film perpetuates violence, only that it points this violence towards them. They fear for their safety, for their place in the world being disturbed and displaced. They don't want to be the protagonist, even if that means being the "good guy." Good guys hold little power at least not until the end of a film, and they do not intend to wait that long to cash-in on their privileged existence. They want the cozy security of being the antagonists right now. If the roles were reversed there would still be an uproar from the right, but this would merely be a mask of discontent. At the end of the day as long as they are being perceived as powerful, who cares if the depiction is less than flattering. It's not like they are going to pay money to see it anyways, so they say. If conservatives had a serious issue with cinema endorsing violence against mass populations, where was this onslaught of outrage when The Purge franchise began? If I had to guess the reason certain conservatives are complaining about this film is that it places them in the seat of the oppressed and not the oppressor. When The Purge films depict the continuous torture and degradation of countless black, Hispanic and lower economic class people there was no Fox News special dedicated to deriding the filmmakers. 

I wonder why?

The message at the end of the day isn't really "can't we all just get along" its "can't we all just stick to the status quo."

That all being said, this film's trailer undersold and underwhelmed me. It seems like a tawdry survival flick with two-dimensional heroes and villains that will likely have little to no depth to their overall character arcs. It will likely have a predominate focus on its action and underutilize the thematic material that is present within its intriguing, scandalous premise. The Hunt may be a blip on the screen, but the bitterness in opposition to its release will remain palpable for years to come. While we all are arguing about what should and should not be put on the big screen another hateful soul is plotting, another firearm is being purchased, and another news crew is on the way to cover the horrifying scene. Blaming the blood on screen is not going to cease the bloodshed in reality, but that's not the conversation everyone wants to have yet, because it's so much easier not to.

Update:

Since beginning to work on this blog post, it has been announced that The Hunt has been pulled from Universal Pictures release slate. The studio is citing the recent mass shootings as their reason behind opting not to release the film at this current tumultuous time. While their respect for those grieving is admirable, one can't help but be slightly disturbed at the notion that is Big Brother Wannabe President has the standing clout to complain a film off of the box-office market. Had there been no uproar, the film likely would have been released to mild reviews and ho-hum audience numbers. Now it will live in infamy, regardless of its artistic merits and whether or not it ever even graces a movie screen. 

Toy Story 4: You've Got a Friend in Yourself

Yesterday was my last day of being 23 years old. Something felt incredibly appropriate about going to see the latest and potentially final installment of one of the most entertaining and impactful film franchises of my entire childhood and likely my life. I knew Toy Story 4 (2019) had gone through the ringer pre-production wise with the constant script, directing and casting changes plaguing the film throughout its development phase. I was still nonetheless eager to see what was in store for these characters that I had believed I had already said goodbye to almost ten years ago.

One of the first things I knew about this film was that it would reintroduce Bo-Peep, a character that was extremely poorly utilized in the franchise prior. Bo-Peep was the embodiment of the damsel in distress trope. She had little to no autonomy and was all look and no substance. Well in this new age of feminist cinema it is no wonder why Pixar, who continues to work towards having more progressive and inclusive depictions of the world we are living in, would choose to give her character a serious reinvention upon her reintroduction. This film isn't about Bo's character arc; however, not really. By the time we meet her, she has already gone through her self-transformation. She is enlightened and tough, while still having the caring and affectionate nature that made Woody and us fell in love with her all those years ago.

Toy Story 4 is very much Woody's film, even more so than the second entry in the franchise in which he learned about his past. Plot-wise, this actually works to Buzz's disadvantage as his subplot about listening to his inner consciousness comes off as more of an afterthought than a fully emotionally effective character arc. Jessie similarly has little to do in this fourth chapter, and the worst thing about that is we don't get a team-up between her and Bo-Peep that no doubt would've been on par with some of the great action sequences Buzz and Woody got to partake in during Toy Story (1995). This film is a character study, one that consistently does not have to be as deep or profound as it is. It may not feel as memorable in terms of witty dialogue that derives endless laughter from both adults and children alike (although there is still plenty of that to be had here) and its plot occasionally underserves many franchise favorites, but this film presents a serious dilemma that can impact a person of nearly any age. At what point in life do we tell ourselves that it is time to stop always taking care of "them" and start taking care of "us?" Toy Story 3 (2010) was very much about letting go, but Toy Story 4 shows us how so many of us in life are so preoccupied with what others have, we don't realize what we are losing in the meantime. The scariest thing about this notion is that while Woody and the gang will likely live forever, we are not as fortunate. So the film tells us to go out and make a change today. Make a choice, and for once in life know that it is alright to choose yourself. Those that truly love you, those that you have cared for, will continue to love you to infinity and beyond.

Forky's plotline adds another psychological layer to the film as a whole, presenting us with a humorously relatable existential crisis about discovering one's identity in an ever-changing world. It is also through him that Woody comes to make such courageous decisions about where his life should go from here. For many people, they never get to the place, mentally that Woody is able to tap into by the film's conclusion. They lack the support system and essential life skills that help a person realize when it is time to leave the past behind and take steps towards an even brighter, and yes a little frightening, future. In many ways, Woody's story in this film can be seen as advocating for all those suffering in life, be it from poor mental health or other everyday hardships such as addiction or grief. We recognize that if Woody can take the difficult first steps that are necessary towards self-improvement than we all certainly can. It is never easy, and Toy Story 4 never feels like it argues that change has to be, and that is one of the greatest life lessons it invokes throughout. It is acceptable to hurt, to lose and to not feel good enough, but only for a certain amount of time. At some point, we have to stop seeing ourselves as "trash" and start seeing what others find so enriching. We have to find our inner "Friend" to trust in alongside all the physical ones that surround us every day.

While Toy Story 4 will be hailed for its lively voiceover performances, immensely impressive animation and an overall atmosphere that celebrates all things that made the original franchise so great, it should really be lauded for its thematic statements about self-love. We spend our whole lives living for others without ever giving ourselves a chance to live for ourselves as well. Woody has always been a source of comfort for children, he certainly has been for me, but now more than ever I saw him as a true hero, someone to admire and aspire to because through his bravery I saw hope for my own.

Unplanned's Plan: Hollywood and Abortion Continue to Collide in America

Today I am going to be doing something I do not typically do on my blog. I am going to discuss a film that I have not personally seen. The reason I have not seen it is not because it wasn't available at a theater near me. I had to drive with my parents almost 30 minutes away from my home to see Room (2015), a film in which Brie Larson ended up winning Best Actress for because none of my local theaters played it long enough. Unplanned (2019) on the other hand was available at a theater just 10 minutes away from my house for weeks, even though it had an abysmal marketing campaign as most television networks refused to air its trailer or television spots. I didn't see Unplanned because purchasing a ticket for such a film is the antithesis to my ideology as a brother, son, friend and general human being. Many had expected Unplanned to fly under the radar and glide swiftly into cinematic obscurity. Unfortunately, that is not what happened.

Unplanned finished 4th at the box-office its opening weekend and exceeded box office expectations by making back its six-million dollar budget in less than a week. Then again, when Christian church groups throughout the Midwest are selling out movie theater for private viewings, whether or not those seats are actually being filled, is it shocking that such a modest film could achieve such feeble feats? That really is what Unplanned's entire concept is centered around at the heart of itself though, making the unsurprising feel shocking.

Unplanned tells the "true" (there aren't enough parentheses in the world) story of Abby Johnson, a former Planned Parenthood employee who left the company after witnessing first-hand a gruesome abortion of a 13-week old fetus. Abby then joins the ranks of a pro-life group dedicated to stopping Planned Parenthood in their crusade to destroy life for their own selfish profits.

The holes in Abby Johnson's story are so numerous you'd think they were in a mid-2000 Shia Labeouf film. Planned Parenthood's records do not match Abby's account of the events, which have changed over time to justify her argument better. Now, of course, we could argue that Planned Parenthood doctored the documents, but for what purpose? The abortion that Abby claims to have witnessed wasn't illegal, because abortion isn't illegal in this country, yet.

Side Note: One part of Abby's story that changed over the years was the race of the girl receiving the abortion in question. Abby later clarified that she was African American. We should then all applaud her for ensuring that when the film was made, she made sure they casted the role accordingly with an African American actress, except she didn't. The actress in the scene, along with most of the actors featured in the film is white.

Many have sought to accuse Unplanned of being a propaganda film. From the clips I've seen, including the pivotal abortion scene mentioned up as well as the film trailers and articles I've read about it, my assessment argues that it does not meet the criteria for a propaganda film. Propaganda films are made to dispense often falsified information to sway the opinion of the mass population. Unplanned seems to show little to no interest in changing people's minds on abortion. It's merely a film interested in giving a bullhorn to the emphatic opinion that life begins at conception and those who deny such a notion are complicit and sinful. There is no compelling thematic core to the film because its themes are seen at the surface level plain as day and are repeated through monotonous uninspired dialogue. Abortion is terrible, Planned Parenthood is evil, and we would all be the wiser if we stopped supporting a woman's right to choose what to do with her own body. Unplanned was made for one audience, and one audience only and those are the exact groups that "sold out" theatrical auditoriums for private viewings to watch it. It is a gluttonous, narcissistic, morally bias, snooze fest. And yet it should scare the Constitution-loving shit out of you.

What is frightening about Unplanned is not that it did well. We just discussed that the majority of audiences that went to go see it, already agreed with it on an ideological standpoint before they bought their popcorn and sodie-pop. What is scary about Unplanned is how candidly it plays with the truth and its sheer lack of interest in exploring any other perspective but the Pro-Life stance it unapologetically takes. It is not interested in race, health or economic class and how these crucial factors can influence and directly impact a woman's decision to get an abortion in the first place. Abortion is wrong, through and through, that's all folks, let the credits roll. It argues that Planned Parenthood makes most of its profits off abortions even though we know due to plenty of available factual evidence that this is an incredible falsehood, debunked years ago. The film never attempts to be self-reflective, to consider how its viewpoint may play a significant role in the very situation it is vehemently trying to prevent from happening. That is because the audience seeing Unplanned doesn't need a mirror held up to them. They know exactly who and what they are and could care less about the profound effects their imposing beliefs have on the health and safety of others. If they did, they would call out Unplanned and all of the lies and misdirection's present in its plot.  

The states of Alabama, Georgia, and Missouri all presented legislation this week that would seriously constrict a woman's right to get an abortion. Doctors (and some patients) could receive jail time for participating in such procedures, even if they went out of state to do it. The high ranking legislators, Governors, Senators and other politicians making these incredibly rash and highly dangerous decisions find the concerns I listed above as inconsequential as Unplanned does within its narrative. Why might that be? Why do those who claim to hold life in such high regard show such little consideration to those who bare life itself? You won't find the answer to that question by watching Unplanned. You won't likely find it by watching any film or piece of episodic television leaning on either side of the abortion argument. You'll only find your answers by asking these people themselves. Inquire to not just the politicians, but the everyday folk as well, the people who bought a ticket to watch this extremely problematic film. Only through those discussions can we hold each other accountable for what we believe, and find some semblance of a "compromise that doesn't include violating a woman's right to make her own choices regarding her physical and mental health. That's the plan we should be making. For once, skip the movies and watch what's happening in the world around you today.

Us (2019): The Liberation of Them

There are some films or pieces of television you just have to dive right into in terms of discussion after viewing. Us (2019) is one of those films, and this is exactly what director/writer/producer Jordan Peele intended when making this movie. He wanted people to leave the theater and talk about it, not only what they thought, but what they felt. So much of Us is left to the left brain to analyze and the right brain to absorb. It is a film that defies logic and yet makes perfect sense beneath the surface. It is not meant to be as clean-cut as Get Out (2017), and this will undoubtedly frustrate fans and critics alike. Peele likes this anger I believe, because he believes something useful can come from it and so do I. One of the things that the film does share in common with Peele's first directorial debut is that nothing on the screen is incidental. From the wardrobe the characters wear, to the food they eat, even the television they watch, everything has a double meaning as it should in a film so enamored by the idea of duplicity. The film is very little about race in some ways and yet contains undeniable racial undertones. What is the story of the Tethered if not a reimagining of the system of slavery the United States was built upon? Peele's agenda is never a simple one however, and as many other reviewers have pointed out his messages get a bit garbled in Us compared to his first effort, but these faults are forgiven by the sheer pulchritude of his thematic ambitions.

Peele isn't trying to shame anybody in this film, the same way he wasn't attempting to shame white liberals in Get Out. Shame doesn't get you very far, enlightening does. Peele wants to have a discussion, and he starts it by taking a mirror, holding it up to our faces and asking what do we see? This is essentially his goal with Us, that audience members of all races and social classes reflect on themselves, their privileges, their talents even their looks. Who has paid the price for your successes, who are pained by your pleasures and who's beauty is diluted by your micro-vanities? Us is about the act of claiming responsibility for one's actions and the dangerous degrees to which we go to cover our indiscretions and forgo accountability. It's about the decisions of the few impacting the humanity of the masses. It's a horror film that frightens you for all the right reasons when you look at it from certain angles and unsettles you regardless of whatever the hell angle you're watching it from. These are the things and people we turn our heads from. Us shows that at some point, you have to turn your head back, either by will or by force.

Much like the many contradictions within the film's narrative, while I urge people to talk to one another and even themselves immediately after seeing Us, I also advise them to let the film sit with them for a while. Us is a film best left to germinate inside the mind. So while those initial conversations are important, have follow-ups because what the film was on the first impression may not be what it is to you sometime later, especially if you begin to research into other reviews and analyses as I did. That is why I'm not giving my more traditional review to Us, because much of what I feel about it since seeing it this past Saturday has been said or is now influenced by others. Instead, see this as more as an act of advocating rather than a film review. I advocate not only for this film and the compelling intellectual dialogue that it offers to its viewing audiences but also for cinema, in general, that is capable of stirring such emotions, discomforting and unapologetic as this film manages. We need more movies that make us second guess, make us question, make us want to be part of the solution and not just the problem. I wondered if Jason had any of these thoughts as he looked at his mother in a crucial shot at the end. Did he wonder what he himself would become someday? Did he see himself in his mother's choices, or did he see something else?

When my mother and I left the theater, discussing the merits of the film as we walked across the parking lot to our car, we were confronted by an elderly woman of color panhandling. Much like those around us, we shook our heads curtly and continued on our way. I can't deny that as I took a seat in the car, still warm from our drive there, a thought occurred to me:

Much like the Tethered, are we doomed to the repetition of our actions, or are we able to break free? We hold the gold scissors too right, and perhaps we just choose not to use them? We choose not to use them because we have the luxury of choice, of autonomy. Peele's film, to me was an examination and a critique on how we utilize these societal gifts, regardless of their effects on others.  

Mid 90's: Childhood Post-Mortem

It always really feels like a New Year after Award Season has concluded, at least creatively speaking. My brother came for a surprise visit this weekend from his home in Seattle, and after going out for pizza and pasta with the family and watching the New York Islanders lose in such a way that reinforced the reason I prefer fictional scripted entertainment over live-action athletic events, we decided to watch a movie. First, we indulged in one of our shared favorites Out Cold (2001), a comedic reimagining of Casablanca (1942) set at a ski resort. The film features a hilarious early-career performance by Zach Galifianakis in a supporting role. Rewatching it now that I'm older and more mature I find the potty-humor in it even funnier in a strange way because I understand the absurdities and subtexts underlining it all better. Once that film concluded, we felt are attention spans, and alcohol blood-levels were in reasonable enough area to take on another cinematic endeavor. This time we went with a film neither of us had seen yet, Mid90s (2018). 

Written and directed by actor Jonah Hill the film tells the story of a 12-year old boy named Stevie living in Los Angeles with his mother and older brother Ian, who is somewhere between an emo/guido-hybrid. Stevie is searching for his place in the world. His relationship with his mother and brother are at arms-length, that is when his brother is not physically abusing him to degrees that are certainly beyond the playful wrestling my brother and I used to partake in during our childhoods. Stevie finds acceptance in a group of skateboarders at a nearby skate shop. They take him in almost on an internship-like status, allowing him to be privy to their so-funny-because their so offensive- conversations without outright granting him membership into the pact straightaway. We watch Stevie arc as he tries to adapt himself into the world of these rowdy outsiders while still holding onto some semblance of his own slipping innocence. 

While I wished the film delved more into the toxic relationship between the two central siblings and resolved its climax in a less predictably "friendship never ends" manner, I very much appreciated its non-judgmental observations of young male culture. I enjoyed the film's depiction of the 90s just before our social consciousness as a country truly began to evolve and consider the value of PC-minded culture as well as its authentic representation of adolescent identity conflicts. Honestly, however, one of the most enjoyable and entertaining aspects of the film was its heavy nostalgia factor. What better film to watch with my older brother than one that reflects the world we grew up in, warts, Ninja Turtles and all? The cinematography, shot in 16mm film harkens back to a time when the value of movies wasn't constantly on an academic merit system for myself. It is a time when movies were just movies, and during Mid90's I felt allowed to recall the beauty in this kind of viewing perspective fondly. While I love the craft of storytelling, and while that craft is most certainly applied to the plot of Hill's film, with some faults admittedly, I yearn for days when I could explore the world the way Stevie does. The days when my young eyes opened wide to the wonder of it all, even the ugly parts. 

Not everyone is as fortunate as Stevie and Hill's script utilizes secondary characters to demonstrate the many different walks of life that may bring a young man to behave the way these boys do. These characters have depth and substance that could have so easily been left on the cutting room floor, but Hill and his team recognize and appreciate the importance of their inclusion within the narrative. While the film could've taken the time to explore them even deeper, the short runtime almost makes you savor every frame a little bit more. I'm so glad I got to watch it with my brother and to be given the opportunity to go back, for a brief time to the days when Super-Nintendo and social acceptance were of the highest priorities. Hill's film doesn't dismiss these details as trivial or inconsequential instead. He makes a case for how they shape who we are by placing a looking glass over who we were.