Man on Film: The Wolf of Wall Street

Much like fellow Best Picture nominee American Hustle, The Wolf of Wall Street is a helluva fun ride that ultimately lacks the staying power that some of the other more serious Oscar contenders have. In other words, 12 Years a Slave The Wolf of Wall Street is not.

While much of the negative response to The Wolf of Wall Street has centered around the perception that the film celebrates greed, it seems like much of the point of the film was lost on those people. Martin Scorcese masterfully captures the grotesque excess by indulging in it. A lesser director would have maintained a measured detachment from the greed, using the distance to preach--I'm looking at you Steven Spielberg--against the actions of the characters.

In The Wolf of Wall Street, Scorcese lets the audience get taken in by Jordan Belfort only to crank up the excess leading to a repulsion to contrast more meaningfully against that urge to like the charismatic lead. In the role of rich asshole, Leonardo DiCaprio once again kills it for Scorcese. While one could certainly wonder if Leo is actually having to stretch much to play a role like Belfort, the fact remains that he excels in this immorality tale.

That isn't to say DiCaprio is alone in his greatness. Predictably, Scorsese gets great turns from the supporting cast. Kyle Chandler and Matthew McConaughey are both fantastic is smaller roles, as Jordan's foil and mentor, respectively. In addition to being stunning, Australian Pan-Am and Neighbours alum Margot Robbie is wonderful as the other half in a very mercurial relationship. Rob Reiner, Jon Bernthal, Shea Whigham, Cristin Milioti, and Jean Dujardin round out the rest of the strong supporting cast; but it is Jonah Hill who gets the most screen time of the rest of the cast, and he absolutely earns his second Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor with a blisteringly hilarious and debaucherous turn as Donnie Azoff, Jordan's right hand and enthusiastic co-conspirator.

Now one could levy claims that Scorcese and screenwriter Terence Winter--Boardwalk Empire in the house--don't punish Belfort enough, but do any of the Wall Street bilkers get any significant punishment? His life is in shambles after his self-destruction, but anyone hoping for Scorcese to do a morality tale is barking up the wrong tree.

The real issues with the film lie with the fact that despite its three-hour runtime--a runtime usually reserved for historical epics or dramas with grave import--The Wolf of Wall Street falls a bit on the forgettable side of things. It's a full-blown debaucherous ride, but somehow a three-hour Martin Scorcese film seems to lack the significance that the rest of his fare has in spades.

Man on Film: Super 8

I wasn't lying when I said I had some catch-up to do here. I feel like this movie came out about thirteen years ago.

Usually the first thing I would complain about with a movie like this would be the child actors. For Super 8 such a complaint need not be made. These kids can act. Elle Fanning is particularly good, but the rest of the tweens pull it off. Really, on-screen performances across the board are on point, with Ron Eldard and the always rock-solid Kyle Chandler knocking their shots out of the park.

For the most part, really, this film works. Super 8 is essentially if Steven Spielberg directed The Goonies but added some dumb fucking aliens. This isn't preachy, heavy-handed Schindler's List/Minority Report Spielberg who quite frankly sucks. We're talking fun Spielberg, for the most part. But there are the dumb fucking aliens, which gets to the heart of my issues with J.J. Abrams. He's a guy who has a lot of great ideas but has issues executing them. Exhibit A: Alias. Exhibit B: Felicity. All right, sort of joking with Felicity, but it was his. Regardless, with the exception of Star Trek, his resume isn't exactly sterling. 

Unfortunately, where Abrams missteps is in the execution of showing the aliens. Much like M. Night Shyamalan's Signs, the film is cruising along, suspense is being aptly built, and then the aliens actually make an appearance and it's all shot. Some might see this complaint as being overly picky, but he simply fails to realize the potential that he had. With as poorly as the reveal of the aliens comes across, he may well have been better off leaving them off-screen entirely.

By and large, Super 8 was an entertaining summer event flick, but it wasn't without its flaws.

Tube Steak: A Fond Farewell to Friday Night Lights

I put this up after the finale aired on DirecTV's then Channel 101. Obviously a lot of you had not seen it at the time. Since you have now, here is a timely re-publish.


SPOILERS ABOUNDING! You have been warned.

As the montage in the series finale's coda struck out to tie up five-year-long storylines, the sinking feeling that I was losing a family member began to engulf me.

Friday Night Lights has been a part of my life for a while now. It's filmed in the town I've called home for seven years. Connie Britton and Adrianne Palicki* used to walk their dogs by my place of employment three days a week. Kyle Chandler would come down to the dock and rent a canoe with his family**. Matt Saracen's 'Chicago' apartment was two doors down from another job. He said goodbye to Julie in the alley that I've parked in two days a week for three years.

*I also saw her on the way to the wrap party back in August or so. She smiled at me in the Hyatt lobby. 

Ms. Palicki, you were stunning.

**I feel like I was weirdly dickish one of these times. I get oddly territorial about the bigger boat that serves as the office, and one of his delightful daughters was asking questions in the way that a young child would, walking into it to look around. I drolly said, "It's a boat." I apologize if this came off dickish, Chandler family.

But there are a lot of things filmed in Austin. I haven't cared about any of them like I do Friday Night Lights.

These characters. Their lives. Somehow they have meant as much to me as actual people in my life.

I guess that's the true testament to the full extent of what FNL has accomplished. I truly care about what happens to these fictional characters. Their realistic trials, their relatable tribulations somehow seem to make these people jump off the screen and into my life. I know that from time to time (especially at the hopefully soon to be no longer dormant Munch My Benson) I have taken joy in blurring the line between pop culture and reality. For me, Friday Night Lights actually transcended the genre of television series and introduced these real people into my life.

Perhaps the most impressive thing that Peter Berg, Jason Katims, & Co. accomplished in their run was their reboot after the third season. They raised the stakes, threw the Taylors into flux by stripping some of their status away, introduced an almost entirely new cast, and flourished. Seeing Vince* grow from a teen on the brink to a stand-up man has taken me places that the first three seasons were never able to take me, and he has only been on for the past two seasons. The scenes with his mother in "The March" had me holding back tears. Sure, some of the relationships may not have mattered as much as the ones with original cast members might have to us, but they certainly got us to care about many of the more integral pieces to the fourth and fifth seasons.

*There is also the added 'what if' element inherent with Vince's character for all fans of The Wire, and Michael B. Jordan (and accordingly, Wallace) are all growed up.

The thing about Friday Night Lights is that this is not uncommon. I can't tell you how many episodes have seen me get choked up multiple times--during "The Son"* I was bawling.

*For those who do not remember episode names this is the episode from the fourth season with Saracen's father's funeral.

The finale, "Always" was no exception. Eric's aside to Vince in which he tells him, "You may never know how proud I am of you" got me. Vince's response, "You changed my life coach" got me. Jess's dejection while telling Coach she was going to be moving away got me. The Lions walking on the field at the Cotton Bowl got me. Tami's non-verbal reaction to Eric's speech about what marriage means at the dinner table got me. Eric's detour to the mall to ask Tami if she'll take him to Philadelphia with her got me. Riggins telling Becky she was family got me. Luke getting on the bus got me. Hell, the extended series recap before the episode even started got me.

Now, the finale had its slight problems. As it was a definite series finale, there were a lot of character story lines that needed to be tied up. This resulted in an insane amount of declarations of undying love for one episode. Granted, it was a long episode, but it felt like there was one every five minutes. The conflation of these moments was inevitable, I suppose, but it was sort of a lot to take. At least, they had the common sense to keep Tyra and Riggins apart in the short-term. Between that and their decision to have Jess's announcement that she would be moving to Dallas be to Eric not Vince, the episode had its two strongest moments and set at least a few of the female characters in orbits that were not dependent upon the men in their lives but would instead be setting out on their own paths.

And then there was State. I don't know if the show could have had a stronger statement about how it was always much more about the characters than the football than how they dealt with the State Championship game. Its conclusion and subtle revelation of its result through the closing montage were absolutely inspired.

Maybe it's that I'm from a small town. Even though it isn't filmed a small town, it's a town I know. Its portrayal of small-town life is as accurate as I've seen since Northern Exposure. It is entirely possible that this resonates with me more than most, but I don't think that is it. I think it is that Friday Night Lights was a brilliant damn show. It is one that I will always love dearly, and one that I will miss more than possibly any show before it.

Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't Lose!