The Disaster Artist

Cogito Ego Sum
or
"You're Deconstructing Me Apart, Lisa!"

Have you ever seen The Room? First off, (SPOILER ALERT), don't bother. The Room is a 2003 character drama conceived, written by, produced, directed, and starring Tommy Wiseau an actor-hyphenate of indeterminate origin and talent who has been known by a select few who have seen the film and regard the guy as something extraordinary. He is a bit like piano-playing cats in that he is extraordinary meme material. And to find out if somebody in your relative sphere is familiar with him, all you have to do is clench your fists to your face and with a pained expression on your face (the veins in your forehead have to look like they're ready to explode if you need a directing tip) cry out "You're Tearing Me Apart, Lisa!!"

Go ahead. I'll wait.

The Room is one of those movies that is so bad and amateurish that I haven't even bothered to post a review of it. It is almost surrealistically dumb and amateurish, a train-wreck with the interesting parts cut out, a relationship film where it is hard to follow if the characters are the same people from scene to scene. I would liken it to an Ed Wood-directed movie, but without aspirations, imagination, crew camaraderie, and ingenuity in coping with a small budget. Nobody looks like they're having a good time, so earnest are the cast-members in hitting their marks and making sure-that-they-are-getting-the-words-right. The only reason to see it is if one is in a really bad, vindictive mood and just feels the need to tear into something with malice. I wouldn't even suggest seeing it high, as it is disorienting enough that it might make you want to check into an emergency room (but it's not you, it's not the weed—it's the movie). I might even suggest it as a suicide preventive measure (even though—SPOILER!—the lead kills himself), as after seeing it, one might find something positive about themselves to keep on living—"Geez, even I could do better than that!" Somebody's parents are mighty proud (well, except for the sex scenes, of course), in the same charitably forgiving-Christmas-play kind of way. But, that's it. 

Okay, you don't believe me. Here is YouTube channel CinemaSins video of The Room (in which they broke the "Sins" meter). I'll wait:   

Well, it is legendarily bad. So much so that in Los Angeles (of course...) it is legend...regularly playing at midnight shows...enough to make back its six million dollar (yes, really) budget. A bewildered article in Entertainment Weekly appeared. The film became a staple of the podcast "How Did This Get Made?"—which features Los Angeles fringies back-biting projects that they or their friends were not involved with, and one episode ,featuring Wisseau's friend, co-star, and line-producer for The Room, Greg Sestero, kicked a thought-about a book on the film into high gear. 

The rest is history. James Franco's Disaster Artist (from the Sestero book, adapted by Scott Neustadter and Michael Weber, who did the, for various reasons, wonderful (500) Days of Summer, The Spectacular Now, and The Fault in Our Stars), do an extraordinary job in recreating the madness that went into the making of the film and its results (and, let's face it, Franco made it easy on himself choosing this subject—not exactly a high bar).* After a flurry of "witness" interviews—with Kristen Bell, Danny McBride, Keegan Michael-Keye, Adam Scott, J.J. Abrams, and Kevin Smith—talking about what an amazing thing The Room is, the film starts with the first meeting of Wiseau (Franco, James) and Greg Sestero (Franco, Dave) in an acting class (taught by Melanie Griffith, I should say) where Sestero is frozen by fear and Wiseau is alarmingly voluble and, frankly, a little bit freakish. Sestero is entranced, though, and asks Wiseau to do some scenes with him. After being initially skeptical, Wiseau relents and his positiveness—his "all things are possible" instinct—turns them into fast friends, eventually deciding to become room-mates in L.A. (Wiseau has apartments in both San Francisco and Los Angeles, sparking one of the mysteries of the guy—where does he get all this money?

Sestero is able to make some headway towards acting—he gets an agent (Sharon Stone), if not any work in particular. But, Wiseau comes up against a brick wall with acting coaches, agents, and all the niche-workers who think he'd make a good vampire, but that's about it. Wiseau becomes despondent until Sestero, trying to cheer him up, tells him, heck, let's make our own movie. Hey, Judy and Mickey did that! 

And so, they did. With a script by Wiseau—that is handed out scene by scene on a "need-to-know" basis like it was the latest Star Wars script, and it might be leaked to the media, they find a studio, buy (rather than rent) equipment, shoot in BOTH HD and 35 mm and shoot entirely inside the studio, even if, rather than shooting on an alley set, there's a perfectly fine alley right outside the stage door. Based on Sestero's reportage, it was a chaotic shoot, with a lot of bad behavior on Wiseau's part and an extraordinary number of takes when he was on-camera. Franco can't quite duplicate the deadness in Wiseau's eyes when he's on-camera, like he's one "z" away from falling asleep, but other than that, it is a freakishly accurate performance. It would remind one of Ed Wood, Tim Burton's tribute film to the worst director in Hollywood, if for the lack of any real acceptance of its subject actually having a "vision-thing." Burton celebrated Wood's "gee-whizery" about making movies. Franco does not have that luxury, as Wiseau has no vision other than what is of the moment.

One is reminded of the phrase that a good movie is something of a miracle—a good movie has ingeniousness, good planning as well as that indefinable something that cannot be explained or, by sheer rigor, has eliminated everything that can possibly stand in its way. Martin Scorsese said that every first assemblage of footage should make you want to throw up—it is only in the editing room that a good movie "finds itself" and is born from the raw material that is purged from the self-indulgence that created the movie. But, what if there is nothing there but self-indulgence...?

It does celebrate something in that only in America could a marginally talented person achieve his dreams as long as he has enough money (yes, I'm talking about Tommy Wiseau) and that, even though it may be totally garbage, it will still find an audience who will embrace it. America is that diverse—and capable of absorbing and creating enough self-rationalizing bullshit—that someone, somewhere will find value in it. 

* And, in apparent effort to either show off how exacting it was or just how bad the original is, in case no one believes it, Franco ends the film with side by side comparisons. Stick around for the end for the post-credit scene in which Wiseau plays a L.A. party-goer having a conversation with Franco's portrayal. Think that's odd? When the character of Greg goes to have a meeting with a talent agent (played by Sharon Stone) he is first interviewed by an assistant who is played by...wait for it...Greg Sesteros! Oh! It's like space and time folding in on its cinematic self!! (Although, not really).

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1

Written at the time of the film's release...

The Best-Dressed Rebel in History (You Say You Want a Re-vo-lu-tion, We-ell, ya know, We'd All Love to See the Wardrobe)
or
"(If I Get Killed), Make Sure You Get it on Camera"

Okay, now it gets interesting.

"The Hunger Games" saga gets interesting, even as the dramatic momentum slows to a crawl to set up the paradoxes and conflicts that will ensue in the next film of the series due November 20, 2015 (mark your calendars, but better do it in pencil).

Mockingjay Part 1 has been released, and it is a game-changer, after two movies with the same premise (distopian society conducts its own crowd-pleasing and -controlling form of entertainment by pitting gladiators from each state into a winner-take-all death-match) and moves to the next step—those gladiators rising up like Spartacus to do battle against the leaders that oppressed/glorified them in the process.  

A non-CGI'd Hoffman, Moore and Jeffrey Wright plotting, plotting...

The games—the government's weapon of mass-distraction—are over, interrupted by Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) defiantly firing an insurrectionary arrow into the overhead circuitry of the Hunger Games arena. Now, it's sudden death and the battle is real. But...not really. What makes this entry interesting is that the battles and explosions mostly happen off-screen, the real fireworks are in the media as both sides of the conflict—the government and the various districts—engage in propaganda wars over the public air-waves. At this point, image is the big weapon of choice and the rebels (led by new-to-the series Julianne Moore and the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, along with former champions Woody Harrelson and Jeffrey Wright) against the administration of President Snow (Donald Sutherland), who rescued Katniss in the last installment, Catching Fire. Now, the pressure on Katniss is not to participate in the games, but to become "The Mockingjay," "The Girl on Fire," the poster-girl to inspire and incite the masses to revolution.  

"If we burn, you burn with us"

They want her to be Joan of Arc—in which case "Girl on Fire" is not the most promising of titles.

The masses hardly need encouraging, with rebel attacks, random sabotage and giving the three-fingered (read between the lines?) Katniss salute in solidarity. Ms. Everdeen is not so spontaneous or rebellious—she chafes at her role as role-model.  Her concerns are for her family (who may have been lost in an attack on her home district 12) and her friends in harm's way, particularly Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) who has been captured by "The Capitol" for use in their own media wars.

Part 1 is merely the set-up for the fireworks to come in Part 2, where loyalties will be tested  and ultimate sacrifices made (inevitably). But the set-up has its interesting aspects embedded in author Suzanne Collins' designs that have been slightly glossed over in the previous movies. For instance, the Panem situation is an interesting commentary on existing political systems and their failures in practice, combining both communist and capitalist models that have both degenerated into the most lop-sided of societies of "some being more equal than others" and rich and poor separated by a wide economic gulf, with no middle-class to provide aspiration and cushion. Collins also argues that both agrarian and technological systems have their inherent weaknesses (she's preaching to the choir here—I live in Washington State).

Katniss receives a sly message from President Snow in Mockinjay 1

The other nice thing about Mockingjay 1 is the role of symbology in the proceedings—a concept that Christopher Nolan only stumbled around in his "Dark Knight" trilogy without really getting to the point. Katniss was made, reluctantly, into the Mockingjay of The Hunger Games by the Capitol.  She is just as reluctant to fulfill the role for the rebels, so there's a psychological war going on amid the bombings and the district-cleansings. The Capitol made The Girl on Fire their symbol. Now, that she's playing for the other team, they're just as ready to tear her down, even as the rebellion tries to build her up as their own, and as these things have a cyclical nature, once the rebellion claims her...

Even District 13 has a cyclical nature...

Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's sufficient to say that The Hunger Games in the larger picture is saying something about fame and fortune, the danger of depending on symbols—especially reluctant ones—and the general manipulation of fiction for fact—certainly in its parallel to the "reality" television blip (please, God, is it over yet?), but also in the general use of myth-making and how the general public can be led like sheep to believe one thing as long as its comfortable (and what they want to hear), and then, on a dime, turn into a slathering "burn-the-witch" crowd at the contrary, even if it's that one has overstayed their welcome. (I would say that mob mentality could use a healthy smartening-up of "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me" but I don't know how well I could float with my hands tied behind my back).

Don't believe me? Ask Bill Cosby. Or any U.S. President. Or anybody who has sought fame and still has something resembling a conscience, however useless as an appendix it has become to them. You probably have a hero right now walking a tightrope just one misstep from a fall. Hope they have a good press agent. A good alibi would do.

End of lecture. Back to Mockingjay, Part 1: Sure, there are things really, really wrong with it (Katniss shoots down a jet fighter, which then swerves into another one, taking down two jets with one shot...from a bow-and-arrow?  A bow-and-arrow??), but, in general, I liked this chapter better than the previous ones.  It will be interesting to see what they do for the finale.

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Written at the time of the film's release...

Feeding the Beast
or
To Kill a Mocking-jay

I mocked The Hunger Games rather mercilessly when it came out (as if it would prevent a single sou from entering its coffers) , because even though it was a hot publishing phenom' and a breathlessly anticipated movie, the original concept was a bit derivative without being very divergent (yeah, that's a snark for a future film there).  So now, the second of The Hunger Games films (of four total) Catching Fire has come out (with a new director, Francis Lawrence, of Water for Elephants and I Am Legend as a bit of an improvement over Gary Ross, even with Steve Soderbergh assisting) and this one's a better film.  For one thing. "this time it's political," and the easy targets of reality TV and the excesses of the rich (with an eye towards the Roman Empire and its parallels of bread and circuses) are a bit less strident, although they haven't disappeared. They're just presented a little better this time. And the politico's of the Capitol are being a bit more cagey than they were previously.

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) now finds herself the most watched human in Panem. Her victory in the 74th Hunger Games along with Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) has earned her and her family a cushy residence in Victor's Village and the vulture-like scrutiny of Panem's leader, President Snow (Donald Sutherland, as creepily confident as if he were selling you orange juice).  He sees the way that Katniss has reached out to Panem's people and now she's the centerpiece of a swelling revolutionary movement.  A personal presidential visit amounts to a threat that she'd better be convincing in her devotion to the State.  "I'll convince them." assures Katniss.  "No." replies Snow slowly. "Convince me."

And with that, the stakes are raised. A "Victory Tour" is planned for the remaining districts (the ones that haven't been nuked), but at each appearance of Katniss and Peeta something happens that brings out the riot police. At the suggestion of the Capitol's new gamesmaster (check out this name) Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman, keeping a straight face), who comes up with a plan to put more pressure on Katniss and speeding the inevitable moment when the public turns against her. Then, with the next Hunger Games competition occurring (the 75th), it is decided that, rather than having a "Reaping" lottery among the populace, the competition will be between past Victors, considered by the State now to be potential inspirations and inciters to riot.

So now, the Games are between past champions (including Jeffrey Wright, Jena Malone, and Amanda Plummer), some of whom are just as determined to win, while others are angry at being targeted again, but there will be only one survivor. 

It's a better film with more tricks up its sleeve, and the media manipulation is played by all sides—it may be an illusion but Stanley Tucci's teeth actually look whiter this time—with a terrific set-up for the next films that comes out of left field...if you haven't read the books.  It's an entertaining change-up from the situations of the original, and promises to be even more intersting next time out.

The Hunger Games

Written at the time of the film's release...

Killed in the Ratings
or
Welcome to Another Exciting Edition of Thunderdome!

I know all I need to know about The Hunger Games

So "young a-dult" is The Hunger Games

Like "Potter" before it (The "Twilight" books, too)

Recycling ideas to 'tweens and their peers

Who think that it's "new."

There have been a lot of books before "The Hunger Games"

A lot of "Running Man" in "The Hunger Games"

"The Lottery,""Logan...,"  

"The Most Dan-ger-ous Game"

A "Rollerball" theme and everything seems

Exactly the same.

I know all I need to know about The Hunger Games

(Crooned to the tune of "The Crying Game")

Yeah, yeah. I'm being "Joe Buzzkill" here. The Hunger Games is going to make a kajillion dollars (even in dystopian future-money) in theaters, DVD's, books, magazines and "mockingjay" pins. Nothing I say can stop that (nor should it).

But it's a fact that this is all recycled material* (just as "Harry Potter" was, just as "Twilight" was), just skewed young for the burgeoning youth book market (which is still thankfully strong). The one interesting aspect to it is that this is "The Most Dangerous Game" for a generation having grown up on alleged "reality" TV programming. An entire generation has happened since "Survivor," "Big Brother," "The Bachelor," "The Amazing Race," "Fear Factor," and "American Idol," all game shows rigged from the get-go,** manipulated for false drama in editing suites, ginned up with flashy production values and glitz, and as genuine of enterprise and skill as a WWF wrestling match—think of it, there are people who pay good money to see that junk "live."

There's a sucker born every minute.

Or a saga.

The story is, by now, well-known: In the future, America is now Panem, divided into 12 working districts governed by an all-controlling Capitol, run by President Snow (Donald Sutherland in the film, who might give the second best performance in it, a brutal paternalism, done with economy and implied malice—he's something of a breath of fresh air from some of the other performances, and his reading of the reply to "Everybody likes an underdog"—"I don't"—made me laugh out loud, while putting a chill down my spine).  Every year, two teens from each district are chosen by lottery for "the Hunger Games," a televised death match from which only one can survive. It's The Olympics to the Death, complete with pomp, circumstance, and Roone Arledge style "up-close-and-personal" drama dredging.  It's "bread and circuses" for the Masses with mock sentimentality and district pride provided to cover the slaughterhouse aspects.

From the coal-mining district (12) comes Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence, who's the best thing in the film, giving a performance cunning and tremulous) who volunteers for the Games when her 12 year old sister is chosen in the lottery.  Her co-warrior is Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson, in a performance that could best be described as "uneven"), with whom she's had a past.

The two are sent by bullet-train to the Capitol, where they are prepped, buffed-up, coiffed and positioned for presentation to the national audience, their handlers being Effie Trinket (an unrecognizable Elizabeth Banks in an insufferable performance), past winner Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson who has his moments—"Nice shooting, sweetheart" gets an appreciative audience response) and Cinna (Lenny Kravitz), their fashion designer. This is easily the worst part of the film, the satire played broad (especially by Toby Jones and Stanley Tucci—both usually fine actors—who play the TV hosts for the broadcast) with a fashion-sense of the privileged Capitol citizens that can best be described as "subtle clown" (or is it "post-modern Gaga?").

I suppose director Gary Ross (who co-wrote and brought in Steven Soderbergh as second unit director) wanted to make satirical points on Capitol decadence or enhance the futuristic "feel" of the film, but he's a rather dull director and when he "pushes" it, he takes it places that feel false. At 2 hours, 20 minutes, if there are places that needed to be trimmed, it's in this section. But, once the actual contest starts with its electronically domed barriers, constant video surveillance, and game "enhancements" (like fireballs and this movies's version of R.O.U.S.'s***), the film becomes slick, vicious fun. And, appropriately, manipulative as Hell, in the foreground, background and throughout.

Why, after all, should the movie be any different from its inspirations? And if it gets the kids to realize that everything—sports, video games, "reality" shows, fashion, political campaigns, whatever—is just distractions from the struggles of real life, used by government and corporations alike, to keep us satiated with bread and circuses, just like in those "boring" History lessons about Rome, then so much the better.

Of course, it would be nice, if instead of going to the theaters to see it, we might (I dunno) join a protest or something?  Jefferson said "A little revolution now and again is a good thing." But it was never a spectator sport.

* "The buzz" on IMDB is that The Hunger Games is a "rip-off" of Battle Royale (2000).  Sure. Okay. So, what is Battle Royale a rip-off of?

** My favorite comment about "reality" programming was Johnny Carson's about "Survivor:" "I can't feel badly for these people when I know just out of camera range there are 20 Teamsters and a "catering table."

*** For anyone who isn't a fan of The Princess Bride, that would be "Rats Of Unusual Size."

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

Feeding the Beast
or
To Kill a Mocking-jay

I mocked The Hunger Games rather mercilessly when it came out (as if it would prevent a single sou from entering its coffers), because even though it was a hot publishing phenom' and a breathlessly anticipated movie, the original concept was a bit derivative without being very divergent (yeah, that's a snark for a future film there). So now, the second of The Hunger Games films (of four total) The Hunger Games: Catching Fire has come out (with a new director in Francis Lawrence, he of Water for Elephants and I Am Legend, as a bit of an improvement over Gary Ross, even if he did have Steve Soderbergh assisting) and this one's a slightly better film. For one thing, "this time it's political," and the easy targets of reality TV and the excesses of the rich (with an eye towards the Roman Empire and its parallels of bread and circuses) are a bit less strident, although they haven't completely disappeared. They're just presented a little better this time. And the politico's of the Capitol are being a bit more cagey than they were previously.

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) now finds herself the most watched human in Panem. Her victory in the 74th Hunger Games along with Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) has earned her and her family a cushy residence in Victor's Village and the vulture-like scrutiny of Panem's leader, President Snow (Donald Sutherland, as creepily confident as if he were selling you orange juice). He sees the way that Katniss has reached out to Panem's people and now she's the centerpiece of a swelling revolutionary movement. A personal presidential visit amounts to a threat that she'd better be convincing in her devotion to the State. "I'll convince them." assures Katniss. "No." replies Snow slowly.  "Convince me."

And with that, the stakes are raised. A "Victory Tour" is planned for the remaining districts (the ones that haven't been nuked), but at each appearance of Katniss and Peeta something happens that brings out the riot police. At the suggestion of the Capitol's new gamesmaster (check out this name) Plutarch Heavensbee (Philip Seymour Hoffman, keeping a straight face), who comes up with a plan to put more pressure on Katniss and speeding the inevitable moment when the public turns against her. Then, with the next Hunger Games competition occurring (the 75th), it is decided that, rather than having a "Reaping" lottery among the populace, the competition will be between past Victors, considered by the State now to be potential inspirations and inciters to riot.

So now, the Games are between past champions (including Jeffrey Wright, Jena Malone, and Amanda Plummer), some of whom are just as determined to win, while others are angry at being targeted again, but there will be only one survivor. 

It's a better film with more tricks up its sleeve, and the media manipulation is played by all sides—it may be an illusion but Stanley Tucci's teeth actually look whiter this time—with a terrific set-up for the next films that comes out of left field...if you haven't read the books. It's an entertaining change-up from the situations of the original, and promises to be even more interesting next time out.