Showing posts with label Craig Gillespie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Craig Gillespie. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Cruella (2021)

 Score: 4 / 5

We should have expected something like this after the financial success of Maleficent, though it's a bit surprising how late this is in coming. Not that an origin story for one of Disney's most iconic villains is ever to be expected, Cruella is still a wickedly good time at the movies. While it will have its detractors -- not the least of which vocally clamor against all live-action remakes, reimaginings, and sequels of beloved classics -- this is one case where I'm not sure that particular complaint is warranted. This is no mere origin story; in fact, it hardly even approaches the basic questions about the mad villainess. Why does she so detest nuclear families, and why does she want to murder 99 puppies?

Actually, if anything, this film answers the first of those questions. Cruella, or rather Estella, is a dog-loving, precocious child of a poor laundrywoman who is killed under suspicious circumstances at a wealthy manor. Newly orphaned, the Dickensian girl rallies herself and debuts as a sassy, spunky rebel with more bite than bark. Thieving on the street with her new friends Jasper and Horace, the trio come of age together and live in a crumbling flat by night while scamming the unwitting by day. But Estella (Emma Stone) is a fashion designer, and finally gets a job at the luxurious Liberty department store. Failing as a maid, she drunkenly reworks a window display that catches the eye of one Baroness von Hellman (Emma Thompson), a veritable Dragon Lady and primary vendor of the store.

In many ways, this is indeed an origin story, and it checks all the boxes of that narrative style in the sort of exposition-heavy, oddly fractured yet annoyingly coherent way that has become increasingly common. I'll never quite understand the need for these stories for iconic characters who really don't need them, but there is a basic satisfaction in seeing new performers and designers put fresh spins on old ideas. And while this isn't the same kind of story as Maleficent, which completely rewrites the character to be essentially and actively good, it's more like Broadway's Wicked or even Venom in that, while explaining her eccentricities away, the movie still respects and embraces the inherent madness and dangerousness that makes its antihero a true, real villain. I suppose, with that in mind, this movie is less an origin story and more along the lines of giving the Devil his due. Or, rather, her due.

In what becomes a crime-comedy mash-up of The Devil Wears Prada and Joker, our female fashionistas engage in heist after chase after publicity terrorism. Estella, now working for the abusive and manipulative Baroness, is determined to dethrone the bitch and take her place as London's premier designer. And yet, as in Phantom Thread and others, the Baroness is also the closest thing to a mentor (and mother?) that Estella has; moreover, even as Estella sabotages the Baroness's public appearances, the Baroness seems to feel that more lines are being crossed than just those between a boss and employee. While the film certainly never covers up the fact that Cruella is not a good person, and is capable of pretty rotten behaviors, we're constantly reminded that the Baroness is far worse; Cruella's intense determination to punish a wicked overlord intersects with her desire to be the best in the biz, and that combination reveals psychological depth to her character that is never fully explored by the film.

Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya and 2011's Fright Night, a personal favorite) directs this movie with a similar panache and irreverent style he's used before. Lengthy sequences match up with a bombastic and loud soundtrack packed with upbeat, recognizable hits like in an Edgar Wright movie. Cold lighting and stark sets frame costumes that wear actors, and yet everyone in this movie leans into the strange aesthetic. Whirling cinematography and nauseatingly choppy editing notwithstanding -- more than once during the two-and-a-quarter-hour feature I had to look away just to reorient myself -- its kinetic energy cannot be denied. And the movie looks great the whole time, even when we're not quite sure if it's doing anything substantial. Then again, the work here by costumer Jenny Beavan (Mad Max: Fury Road, Sense & Sensibility, Gosford Park, and countless others) is always doing substantial work, and I'd have watched it all again immediately to be able to stare at these habiliments again.

The only sore spot in this film that made me cringe is Joel Fry as Jasper, whose weird, unrequited thing for Cruella turns him into a limp, dull character who pulls focus in the worst way, a sort of bedraggled wallflower with little humor and too much sentiment. Paul Walter Hauser as Horace, on the other hand, is a laugh-aloud delight, and his pairing with wicked little piratey dog Wink is nothing short of brilliant. Kirby Howell-Baptiste and Kayvan Novak pop in to the film occasionally as Anita and Roger, and are lovely even as they are underused. But the movie belongs fully to Emma Thompson and Emma Stone, who manage to work with their costumes and hair in such a way that their performances elevate to another level altogether. Much like Glenn Close did, actually, in the original.

I say "original," because it quickly became apparent that this movie is not a prequel to the 1961 animated classic so much as it is a prequel to the 1996 live-action film that started the whole trend. Its updated time period and intoxicating visual spectacle reveal its kinship, to say nothing of the costumes that are sure to win buckets of awards. And with Close as executive producer here, could we have expected anything else? I'm desperately hoping for a follow-up film, partly to answer the remaining question of how and why Cruella becomes an animal-killing psychopath. Remember, it's not just dogs; in the original, we're introduced to her by way of cat-napping a Siberian tiger from the zoo and turning it into, well, something furry to play with in her boudoir.

But mostly, I'm eager for a sequel that has already been teased. Reports indicate that both Emma Thompson (who stars here, of course, but deserves a lot more screen time) and Emma Stone have publicly expressed interest in a sequel that bridges time, providing more backstory for these new characters and crossing over into Cruella's adult life. They described it as a Godfather II-like thing, which makes magnificently twisted sense, and would surely include Close reprising the role. If that happened, I could die happy.

Friday, January 26, 2018

I, Tonya (2017)

Score: 5 / 5

I knew this was going to be fun. I didn't know it would be amazing.

As you probably already know, I, Tonya follows the life of Tonya Harding through the trials of her relationships with family, husband, peers, and fame. The centerpiece, of course, concerns her role in the infamous attack on rival Olympic skater Nancy Kerrigan. It's all an arresting look into the wild and horrifying lives of Harding, her mother, her husband, and the people connected to them, especially for those of us who don't exactly remember the whole story but grew up with chilled references to a "crazy", "white trash" woman too "desperate" for her fame.

In many ways, this film is a sort of fever dream that espouses a lot of the public's condemnation of Harding; in others, it brazenly toys with narrative conventions, primarily that of reliability. We see her life mediated by the news, her coach, her mother. The film is framed as a mockumentary, with the filmmakers interviewing the characters years after the events of Harding's youth. Interspersed are moments of re-created history, often featuring the characters breaking the fourth wall and speaking directly to us, the audience. With all these interruptions, conspicuous editing, and downright manipulative storytelling, we're never quite sure of the truth of her life. Screenwriter Steven Rogers and director Craig Gillespie (who also directed the Fright Night remake, a personal favorite) has masterfully fashioned a film that is so meta we can't help but swallow it all.

Amazingly, despite the whirlwind story, the film is easy to watch. The moment it was done, I was ready to view it again. It's breezy and smart, cracking like a whip, and never slows its pace. Right when the more poignant insights start to creep up, the movie cuts to an awkward, crude, funny scene that totally shakes your emotional connection. My personal favorite moment was a point when the story concerns Harding's marriage and burgeoning Olympic dreams, and out of a clear blue sky, we cut to the mockumentary interview with her mother, who casually notes she's drifted out of the story before lighting a cigarette and intoning, "What. The. Fuck." Then we go right back to Harding's story. It's incredible.

The film, apart from being a masterclass in screenwriting and editing, also features amazing cinematography and production design. The sets, costumes, and hairstyles are so accurate -- and so disgustingly period -- that a major theme emerges from the mise en scene: The overwhelming professional prejudice against "white trash" and the efforts of determined individuals, especially women, to overcome class boundaries. The stew of jealousy, desperation, cruelty, and injustice bubble into a boiling mess that makes the crazy behavior of these characters totally believable, even logical. In this way, while major parts of this movie are uproariously funny, by the end we realize we've been struck at the heart with some carefully calculated sneak attack blows. In many ways, I'd compare this film to Black Swan in several ways: its portrayal of desperate characters descending into an amoral madness to achieve their goals, issues of violent lovers and terrifying mothers, and remarkably similar cinematography. The camera is fabulously kinetic, whirling and twirling as quickly as Harding on ice, and the visual effects slide in and out almost without our awareness.

What else can I say? I didn't expect I, Tonya to be one of my favorite movies this year, but here we are. Margot Robbie delivers her best performance yet, Sebastian Stan is equally mesmerizing. Little supporting roles from Julianne Nicholson and Bobby Cannavale are charming. Allison Janney may very well win her Oscar as Harding's chain-smoking mother with a bird on her shoulder, an impossibly rich character, one of her career's best performances. Funny and smart, terrifying and engaging, wicked and beautiful, this is one of those genre-defying films that pops out of nowhere and steals your heart. And it boasts a killer soundtrack that'll have you tapping and singing along. What could be better?

IMDb: I, Tonya