Presence (2024)

Teen Angel, Can You Hear Me?

Teen Angel, Can You See Me?
Why Do You Still Give a Damn

Why Do You Glide on Steadi-cam?

or

"Ghosts Are Ass-Holes, Man!" 

I have a friend who (so he says) became a psychic, though not of his own volition. One day, he walked into work and discovered that he could read people's thoughts and know what they were thinking (I should have asked him what number I was thinking of at the moment, but the story was too interesting to hear for some quick-thinking debunking). Anyway, he was a professional psychic for awhile and gave it up, settled down, raised a family. The toughest trick for a psychic is to STOP being a psychic...if you REALLY ARE a psychic.

 

Anyway, I went to a lecture he was giving and was driving him home and we were talking psychic stuff—its arcana and down-sides and my weird forays into TM—when I asked him "What about ghosts?" And he blurted, frustrated, "Aw, ghosts are ASS-HOLES, man!" He'd never met a ghost he'd liked, as they were always hanging around with some left-over agenda from their previous existence that they just...couldn't...let GO of! "One ghost was hanging around her daughter because she never returned a BOOK she borrowed from her! Can you believe that?" I actually could (and if he was really psychic he would have known that). But, he could never understand why ghosts just never let go and move on, especially as the way (I've heard) is perfectly well-illuminated.

 

So...Presence, director Steve Soderbergh's new film with a script by David Koepp that only cost $2 million bucks and (supposedly) has only 33 editorial cuts in it. That is as lean and mean as a movie can get, and I've always liked Soderbergh for his daring and his playing with the movie-form and his many invented ways to get movies made and/or distributed. He's the guy I'd want running DOGE over anybody else. Smart and experimental, but efficient as any director making movies—he even shoots and edits them under pseudonyms. And, in this one, he literally plays a larger part.

We open on a house. More actually, we open IN a house, looking through the window down at some pavement below and then the camera looks up and we see the window, turn around and we're looking at the empty bedroom of a vacant house. The camera glides through rooms, up and down stairs, down to the main floor into the kitchen, around the living room and out the window. Nothing to see here. Fade to black.

When we come back we're looking out the upstairs front window and a woman getting out of a car. "We" run down to the first floor as she enters and it's a real estate agent (Julia Fox) who's going to show the house to a family who soon arrive. They are, as we soon learn, the Payne's: Rebekah (Lucy Liu), Chris (Chris Sullivan) and the kids Tyler (Eddy Maday) and Chloe (Callina Liang), both teens. Rebekah loves the place, but Chris has questions—are the schools okay? it's by a fire-station and are the sirens going to be annoying—and the kids are... preoccupied. Tyler's a jock and submersed in his phone—it's not even sure if he notices the house ("whatever...") and Chloe wanders around, not saying a word...except...at a couple points she looks directly at the camera, which then swiftly retreats away from her gaze. Nobody else notices or looks our way, only Chloe and only a couple times. In fact, the camera will move very close to people in intense discussions and there is no reaction. It's like we're invisible.

It's like we're a GHOST. Which is exactly what's going on here. There is a spirit in the house (something the real estate agent doesn't mention and probably doesn't know as she's focused on making a sale). Everybody is busy with other issues and so they don't notice, they're not attuned to it. Only Chloe who is sunk deep in depression over the death of a friend—accidental overdose it was ruled—is aware that there's an unseen house-mate, who's useful at putting her books away or causing a fortuitous distraction. One night, on the edge of sleep, she senses something in the closet (the spirit's go-to refuge), gets up, wanders to the center of the room and tentatively asks "Nadia?" It was the name of her passed friend.

There have been plenty of "point-of-view" movies. They were quite prevalent in the day of slasher horror (but only sparingly—but enough that it became a trope—and usually to disguise the perpetrator or increase suspense ala The Silence of the Lambs), and Orson Welles was going to use it for his aborted first RKO film Heart of Darkness, and director Robert Montgomery employed it (partially successfully) in his adaptation of Raymond Chandler's The Lady in the Lake—quite naturally as Chandler wrote his mysteries in the first person. But, it's a gimmick, like those movies employing found media (I'm thinking The Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield) where the point-of-view technique is meant to be claustrophobic and limit what is shown. It's a distraction, as well.

Interesting that there are a couple of extra chairs at the dinner table.

Expecting guests, are we?

But, not here. "Our" role—as we, the audience, don't have a choice in the matter—is not as a stand-in for the narrator or the director's presence (although director Steve Soderbergh DID shoot the whole thing himself, so one could say that he is portraying the ghost). We are the observer (as per usual), like the presence, unseen and unheard—but, even if we don't, it is still quite capable of making an impact.

The film is of our time, and what is going on in the lives of the Paynes is distrust, an uneven power dynamic between the four, and involves teens and bullying and social media, plus an unsolved murder or two, all seen through the eyes of a spirit who knows a few more things than we do and acts accordingly when it feels the urge to. One may have a qualm or two with its selective abilities ("Well, if it can do that, why can't it do this?") and it all may come down to cherry-picking for the sake of dramatic effect and suspense. Given the amount of detail that Koepp and Soderbergh put into the scenario, one suspects that they were just interested in telling an engaging story and didn't want resolutions to be too easy. Poltergeists can't do everything. If they could, they'd be guardian angels...which is another pay-grade.

Are ghosts ass-holes? I don't know. Presence would make the argument against—that they serve some purpose other than flickering lights and poltergeisting to their sacred hearts' content. And "Ass-holes" is a little judgy. Plus, it's never a good idea to look down on things that can look down on you (especially things known for knocking things off ledges). Maybe ghosts are just like those career-people who absolutely refuse to retire and can't imagine themselves relaxing with a harp. That's a little relatable. It certainly would be to Steve Soderbergh who's said at several junctures of his career that he's going to retire and he...just keeps...making...movies.

 

I certainly hope he does...if the spirit is willing.

Shazam! Fury of the Gods

It's Always 🗲Shazammy🗲 in Philadelphia

or

"It's Fam-i-ly Feud!"

"All happy families are alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."

Leo Tolstoy, "Anna Karenina" 1878

 

When last we left Billy Batson (Asher Angel), he'd just turned his foster-brothers and sisters into a collection of super-heroes to defeat an evil threat. By invoking the name of the wizard "Shazam"(Djimon Hounsou), they turn into the "Marvel Family" (but nobody calls them that because...lawyers), with, collectively, the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Hercules, the stamina of Atlas, the power of Zeus, the courage of Achilles, the speed of Mercury...and the neuroses of foster teens. Strange brew.

 

Particularly shouldering these burdens is Billy, who, in his superhero guise as an adult-looking "Captain Marvel" (shhh..."lawyers"...but played by Zachary Levi), he is responsible for the safety of the city of Philadelphia and the management of his family, super-powered and not. It can weigh on a guy. But, then, he has the stamina of Atlas, so, "no big deal," right?

"Say my name!" ("'Destiny's Child' did it better")

Well, it depends on your point of view. He does have the stamina of Atlas, but as Atlas is dead and all, he's probably not using it anymore. Right? So, why not have it? Right? Possession is 9/10 of the law, right? Even if you're "possessed" by a super-hero.

Except for one thing. Three things, really. Atlas had children, a few from different sources, but like all family fights, it usually comes down to the most outspoken ones to stir the pot, so the ones that matter are his daughters Hespera (Helen Mirren), Calypso (Lucy Liu) and Anthea (Rachel Zegler)* Notice the family resemblance? No? Well, like I said "different sources"; call them the step-daughters of Atlas.

  

Being heirs, they're not too thrilled with "family assets" being seized and given to "strangers..."—why, it's not even someone in the family, for god's sake (literally). Besides, not having Atlas' power is making living in whatever god-realm they inhabit in their pearly-gated community less than optimal. I mean, so what if you're a god, even an unfashionable god—a god that's not exactly making people hit their knees anymore—they still have a right to what's theirs!

And so, they deem to get their sandals sullied on real Earth and take back the Wizard's staff that contained all of the power of the gods that were transferred to "The Marvel Family" rather than "The Atlas Family" during the kerfluffle with Dr. Sivana in the last movie. Just putting their mitts on it is enough to generate some power out of it and they use it to smash up a museum and turn all of its patrons into stone. And before you can say "who in their right mind would put something that powerful into a museum?" the Marvels go into action.

Well, not immediately. First, Billy has to visit a doctor about his issue with "imposter syndrome"—he is a 17 year old who becomes an adult super-hero, after all!—the burdens of great power/great responsibility, that he might be a redundant in a world full of super-hero movies (he doesn't mention that, I just added it), and...that at 17, he's going to "age-out" of the foster-care system, and his parents won't be getting support for him. That's a big issue, one that occupies his thoughts even while the "Marv's" try to stop a bridge from collapsing during rush-hour.

But, the Wizard tells them of the impending threat, and the kids try to figure out how to fight mad adults who are gods, or "children of god." The humor of the film comes from the awkwardness of 'tweens trying to be adults, as well as the odd arcana of their Rock of Eternity headquarters that is as idiosyncratic as Hogwarts (heat is provided by an eternally burning violin—Nero's?—and there's an enchanted auto-pen named "Steve"). 

Meanwhile the Atlas kids are using the Wizard's staff to suck the shazam! out of the Marvel kids individually, while also trying to acquire a "golden apple" to rebuild Earth into their kingdom. Oh, and there's a dome—a big impenetrable energy dome surrounding Philadelphia that traps everybody, including our heroes inside. And creatures that look like they came out of Harryhausenland. And unicorns. And a dragon. At one point, Cap just comes out and says "I never thought I'd be saying this, but the dragon is the least of our problems now."

Sounds like it would be a mess, but, it surprisingly isn't. The humor isn't strained, as much as is going on. Levi maintains the "gee-whiz-I'm a dork" persona that makes the adult Captain Marvel such a fun character, and there's "just enough" individualism in the Marvel kids to make you give a rip about 'em when they're getting slammed around. And there are joys, little unexpected "bits" where you shake your head at the cleverness—like Helen Mirren reading a negotiating note from the Marvels—who have no filters—dictated by an enchanted pen—that has no editing skills. And the youngish cast, who are riffing, and moving things along at warp-speed.

The characters' powers have settled in, so there's none of that training awkwardness about their abilities as in the first movie, and maybe all the opportunities of kids acting like adults with super-powers isn't explored nearly enough. But, there's enough mocking earnestness that there were times when the matinee kid in me had their blood pressure up and wanted to see the bad guys get their comeuppance, just because they're very mean people...or demi-gods...or whatever. That hasn't happened to me for awhile in movies. Maybe it's because we've become used to evil that is so blatant and is constantly excused away with sanctimonious self-righteousness.

And ultimately (as Billy evokes "The Fast and the Furious" series in one scene—to Mirren, no less!) The Fury of the Gods really is about family—families that function and families that don't—compare and contrast—and the squabbling and scorched Earth that ensues—and, of course, it all takes place in Philadelphia and the villains are trashing the City of Brotherly Love (ironically). One can't help but see this as another episode of Family Feud...but without Steve Harvey to break the fourth wall to let you know he thinks it's all a little dumb, too.

 

There's a lot of entertainment value in it, a bit lighter in tone, but not lighter in content that the kids can see it and not be zombiefied. And as jokey as it is, as juvenile as it can be, a lot of it will go over kids' heads.

 

* Shazam! Fury of the Gods makes a mystery of the third one for a time, and her identity is revealed as a surprise that doesn't really "land." I mean, why did she suddenly turn up in the first place if she didn't have something crucial to do with the plot?