September 5 (2024)

Score: 4 / 5

In the grand tradition of news outlet dramas of flashpoint historical events, September 5 capably and compellingly recreates the events of that date in 1972 at the Munich Summer Olympics. More accurately, the primary setting is inside the ABC Sports broadcasting control room. During an otherwise routine schedule, gunshots ring out through the night, and it becomes slowly revealed that agents of Palestinian militant terrorist group Black September have infiltrated the athletes' village, killed two Israelis, and taken nine others hostage. Producers and editors, technicians and reporters alike, the cast of assembled characters struggle to make sense of the crisis as it unfolds before their eyes, eventually deciding to allow the events caught on camera to be seen live around the world.

In our age of cameras everywhere and nonstop news, it can be hard to remember a time when our daily existence wasn't mediated at all. Even growing up in the '90s, I can recall, meant a certain hour or so of dedicated television time, usually for the evening news and at least one episode of a show. So some viewers may not be able to empathize with the experience of watching such world-shaking events unfolding in the moment; much less, the agony of those execs in the newsroom. But director Tim Fehlbaum and his team skillfully approach the story as a grounded, urgent, and intentionally intense process, making the film something as close to an immersive experience as a docudrama can be. The silver screen even looked low-resolution, grainy and warm like 16mm news videos of the time, mostly handheld to effortlessly feel more thrilling by the minute. And don't get me started on the amazing sound design, which is crisp and clear and expansive and tactile and all the things you don't really expect in what is essentially a chamber thriller.

Actors do exceptionally well here with their demanding material, which by all accounts is remarkably well-researched and accurate to real events. Yet don't go into this film expecting a historical treatise on the geopolitical or religious or racial contexts for the massacre or even into its fallout, memorably dramatized by Steven Spielberg in 2005. Rather, this film is presented almost as a lesson in journalism in new media: the live broadcasting of events isn't invisible to the terrorists themselves, after all, which irrevocably complicates the situation and our assessment of it. And while it seems curious, perhaps, for the producers to want to tell this story --and in this way -- at this particular moment in our contemporary world, I am somewhat relieved that the film doubles down on its internal historicizing, rendering it politically toothless in a world currently eager to bite down on low-hanging fruit. Indeed, this choice largely makes the film a snapshot of a particular moment in history, made compelling by its counterintuitive and refreshing focus.

I want to defer, here in my final and somewhat jumbled thoughts, to critic Matt Zoller Seitz, who eloquently mused about the admittedly lacking awareness, in September 5, of context or lasting implications of media coverage during crises. Specifically, he talks about certain characters and how, after this story, they continued on to shape certain aspects of American media through relationships with politics and politicians who, together, began using immediate broadcasting access to shape American policies:

"What we’re seeing in September 5 is the birth of live news as entertainment. It’s the opening salvo in a long and sadly successful war against journalistic ethics and ideals that would lead to the current pathetic conditions of cable and Internet 'news,' which consist largely of 'takes' rather than original reporting. That nobody involved in the 1972 crisis could have foreseen where things would go lends poignance [and, I would add, urgency] to a movie that’s otherwise concerned only with what’s in front of it."

First Cow (2020)

 Score: 3 / 5

At once a fascinating deconstruction of the foundational problems of capitalism and the sort of pretentious arthouse flick that drives people away from high art, First Cow tries to do a lot of things. It mostly succeeds, I think, as a result of its quiet, gentle delivery. A Western of the most basic sort, it dramatizes a frontier story that is a little absurd, a little familiar, and a little sad. It champions the virtues of brotherly love and lasting friendship for an America that should still be a melting pot and isn't. It uses a very funny heist plot arc in ways that are often less than humorous, choosing instead to focus on literalizing the details of living simply through hard work and ingenuity. And yet, for all this, I found it unbearably boring.

Beginning with a quote from William Blake's "Proverbs of Hell" -- "The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship" -- the film launches into the story of Cookie (John Magaro) and King Lu (Orion Lee), who meet each other in a state of desperation. Cookie, harassed by the fur trappers he travels with, decides to help the naked and frightened Lu, who is hiding in the woods. After another chance encounter, with roles rather reversed, the two men become friends out of circumstance and perhaps out of some natural inclinations for each other. Their friendship is depicted, ultimately, as a basic human need like food and shelter, and one wonders why exactly an entire movie hinges on that less-than revolutionary revelation. Perhaps because it is tied with larger themes.

Somehow, the tone First Cow, handled deftly by director Kelly Reichardt, manages to inject parallel sensations of brutality and nihilism into its primary conceit of pastoral Romanticism. Because of the opening scene, in which a woman and her dog discover two skeletons in close proximity, we suspect the two main characters will die together in the woods. The rest of the movie is just telling us how this happens; for people obsessed with plot, this movie is a definite no-go. Much like this woman, presumably (as she never appears again), we are encouraged to piece together parts of the story, as it is decidedly not filmed in real time. And yet, plot points be damned, we are treated to several sequences of their almost idyllic life together. A favorite sequence depicts Cookie collecting flowers to place in a bottle in their home together, clearly cherishing simple comforts of rustic life.

The movie does indeed move into plotted momentum eventually when the cow of the title arrives in Oregon. It belongs to the Chief Factor (Toby Jones, who of course is doing this weird-ass role in this weird-ass movie) and is apparently the first and only cow in the territory. Interestingly, and in one of the few laugh-out-loud moments, it is often shot as if it were imbued with magic or some fairytale entity come to bestow its gifts on wretched mankind. Cookie (who, I don't think I mentioned before, is a cook) imagines baking goods with the milk from this cow, and so the remainder of the plot unfolds. Rather than taking care of themselves as they are, Cookie and Lu decide to steal the cow's milk to secure a successful, wealthy, secure future we all know they will likely never have. It's the sort of bleak optimism that is seductive to those of us jaded viewers in 2020 America who know it won't end well for the poor folks trying to win a rigged system.

The movie is populated with other odd characters, but none of them matter much in the end. What matters is that eventually the Chief notices his prized cow is not producing much milk, frightening Cookie and Lu so much that they, annoyingly, decide to make "one last" milk-pirating venture. They fail miserably and go on the run. By this point, we know how it will end, and the final act, which should be exciting, proves deadly dull. The movie could easily have been at least thirty minutes shorter and still would have been too lengthy for this viewer. I suppose further viewings might allow me to better appreciate the subtleties of this film, its gentle depictions of eccentric American stories woven around and suffering from the sins of a fledgling nation expanding beyond its healthy boundaries. But it's so bloody boring that I'm not sure I ever want to watch it again unless I need a soporific.

Overlord (2018)

Score: 4 / 5

It's the Nazi zombie movie you never knew you needed. For what looked like a cheap and silly excuse for exploitative thrills, Overlord succeeds as thoroughly entertaining horror with more craftsmanship than anyone expected.

D-Day is tomorrow, and to better equip the Allies, a team of paratroopers are dispatched to destroy a German radio tower hidden in a crumbling church. Only five survive after their plane is shot down; one is killed immediately by a mine. The remaining four, alone in enemy territory, approach their goal cautiously. Chloe, a French woman, provides them some information as well as shelter in her home, but the Nazis controlling the oppressed village come and go at will. They have been using villagers -- including Chloe's aunt -- as subjects of mysterious experiments that leave them horribly deformed. In their quest to destroy the radio tower, the soldiers will learn the full depths of evil the Nazis plan to unleash.

It might be reprehensible for a film in 2018 to feel the need to create fictional horrors for Nazis. After all, we all know the stories of Josef Mengele and his ilk; Nazis were indeed experimenting on (read: torturing and mutilating) people, and that's more than horrific enough. But we might also ask ourselves if we really need to see depictions of that on the silver screen; wouldn't that be infinitely more exploitative? Horror has a long tradition (arguably its entire tradition) of taking real life evil and reconfiguring it or displacing it onto fictive elements.

And Overlord takes these and runs with them. It wears its influences proudly, enmeshing itself into horror and war genres as a sort of perfect bridge between the two. Its heart-stopping suspense -- yes, we always know what will happen, but not exactly how -- and breathtaking action might not be the most original of the year, but allow the film to feel not unlike a video game. Think Wolfenstein meets Outlast (I don't video game much, so these might be poor references). It helps, too, that two accomplished cinematographers worked on this picture: Fabian Wagner (films Victor Frankenstein, Justice League, and shows Sherlock and Game of Thrones) and Laurie Rose (frequent Ben Wheatley collaborator, Peaky Blinders and London Spy, and the upcoming Pet Sematary). Together, they craft a film claustrophobic, visceral, and yet also sweeping in its microcosmic look at a specific mission on the field of war. Each shot tells a story on its own, making each scene drawn out and layered in complexity uncommon in this kind of picture.

For all the derivative elements of the film, it also presents us with some refreshing features. Jovan Adepo (The Leftovers, mother!, Fences) leads the film as a powerful protagonist, and the film nearly ignores the fact that he's black. Granted, this story has already fictionalized Nazis so why not also ignore the realities of segregated American soldiers? But he's a great hero here, and it's nothing short of awesome seeing him enter a Nazi compound to kick some ass. The film also includes some surprising psychological turns, as when our lead pleads with his corporal to stop torturing a captured S.S. officer; one who, no less, had attempted to rape Chloe in the previous scene. Chloe is no victim, though, especially in the climax when she rescues her brother and helps the survivors fight their way out.

So if you can set aside your hang-ups with death metal vibes and wade into the bloody mess, you'll find a really entertaining, thought-provoking war thriller with lots of action and scares. What's not to like?

IMDb: Overlord