MOVIES, Y’ALL with Cole Hutchison

by | Mar 25, 2011

Chloe (2009)
dir: Atom Egoyan

Relationships are hard. Apparently this is a universal tenet of human social existence, just as true for a debt-ridden cook pushing 30, who lacks any particularly marketable skills or deep desires for self-betterment (me), as it is for a mysteriously well-off gynecologist married to an apparently loved and respected professor of some indeterminate study with whom she shares an impossibly gorgeous home in Canada (the fictional characters in this movie). My girlfriend and I still find ourselves embroiled in week-long standoffs over such deeply unsettling and totally heavy debates as why the Almond Milk tastes weird, whether or not middling pop sensation Rihanna is a physically desirable entity, and the pros and cons of male circumcision at an early age. My views to these issues, in the order presented: 1) it always tastes weird, 2) she looks like a dumb alien and 3) that shit is fucked up, gimme my foreskin back!! My girlfriend’s views: I have no idea. Usually by the third hour I have completely given up on paying attention. Thankfully, though, she and I have attained a level of interpersonal communication and shared trust that allows us to ask the really difficult–but admittedly very simple–question of “Hey, did you fuck that other girl?” instead of hiring an escort to attempt to seduce our creepy husband as proof that maybe he cheated on us. If that previous sentence has confused you, then congratulations: you are now fully aware of the head-scratching conundrums that face us monogamously-inclined suckers every single day of our lives. Of course, it’s usually worth the trouble, as Egoyan himself seems to posit by the end of this admittedly lackluster offering from one of my favorite understated filmmakers of the past 15 years. His movies are always about the power of both advancing technology and simple words to shape both our own minds and our reactions to other people, as well as how we utilize the power of said words to respond to events as varied as legitimate traumatic experiences, or the nagging drive to place judgment upon total strangers. These themes don’t quite present themselves as assuredly in this obviously less personal work as they have in many of his earlier films, although we are treated to an always-welcome appearance by the stunning Julianne Moore’s national geographics. As a better primer to Egoyan’s work, I would recommend 1994’s Exotica (emotional and sexy!) or 1997’s The Sweet Hereafter (so real it’s gonna make ya’ll cry!). This one isn’t bad, but it unfortunately works better as a semi-educated dude’s sexualized ideas about female interaction than it does as Egoyan’s usual ruminations on what exactly makes us “click,” and why.

More movies (y’all) after the jump:


Chloe (2009)
dir: Atom Egoyan

Relationships are hard. Apparently this is a universal tenet of human social existence, just as true for a debt-ridden cook pushing 30, who lacks any particularly marketable skills or deep desires for self-betterment (me), as it is for a mysteriously well-off gynecologist married to an apparently loved and respected professor of some indeterminate study with whom she shares an impossibly gorgeous home in Canada (the fictional characters in this movie). My girlfriend and I still find ourselves embroiled in week-long standoffs over such deeply unsettling and totally heavy debates as why the Almond Milk tastes weird, whether or not middling pop sensation Rihanna is a physically desirable entity, and the pros and cons of male circumcision at an early age. My views to these issues, in the order presented: 1) it always tastes weird, 2) she looks like a dumb alien and 3) that shit is fucked up, gimme my foreskin back!! My girlfriend’s views: I have no idea. Usually by the third hour I have completely given up on paying attention. Thankfully, though, she and I have attained a level of interpersonal communication and shared trust that allows us to ask the really difficult–but admittedly very simple–question of “Hey, did you fuck that other girl?” instead of hiring an escort to attempt to seduce our creepy husband as proof that maybe he cheated on us. If that previous sentence has confused you, then congratulations: you are now fully aware of the head-scratching conundrums that face us monogamously-inclined suckers every single day of our lives. Of course, it’s usually worth the trouble, as Egoyan himself seems to posit by the end of this admittedly lackluster offering from one of my favorite understated filmmakers of the past 15 years. His movies are always about the power of both advancing technology and simple words to shape both our own minds and our reactions to other people, as well as how we utilize the power of said words to respond to events as varied as legitimate traumatic experiences, or the nagging drive to place judgment upon total strangers. These themes don’t quite present themselves as assuredly in this obviously less personal work as they have in many of his earlier films, although we are treated to an always-welcome appearance by the stunning Julianne Moore’s national geographics. As a better primer to Egoyan’s work, I would recommend 1994’s Exotica (emotional and sexy!) or 1997’s The Sweet Hereafter (so real it’s gonna make ya’ll cry!). This one isn’t bad, but it unfortunately works better as a semi-educated dude’s sexualized ideas about female interaction than it does as Egoyan’s usual ruminations on what exactly makes us “click,” and why.

More movies (y’all) after the jump:

The Social Network (2010)
dir: David Fincher

I deleted my Facebook profile a few months ago. Of course, all of the information is still out there somewhere. It always will be. My desire as a younger idiot to inform everyone within my loosely-defined network of “friends” that I can’t listen to Tricky albums while high, or to share photographic evidence of such blackout moments as me beer-bonging an unborn fetus while taking a dump on the roof of a cathedral, will always exist within the non-judgmental but never-forgetting void of information and mistakes collectively known as the Internet. If my grandmother were to Google my name, god only knows what terrifying truths she could discover about the seemingly mild-mannered young man to whom she has so willingly offered bad advice, great lasagna, and perplexing Christmas gifts for the past 29 years. The worst aspect of this entire scenario is that it would ultimately be my own fault. Facebook exists as a tool, and I chose to use it. This is an undeniable fact. Perhaps the strangest thing about The Social Network is that it will forever have essentially the same impact on the public opinion—and thus, the life—of Facebook creator and Richie Rich stand-in Mark Zuckerberg. However, in this particular case it’s not really his fault. He didn’t make this movie. He most likely didn’t even lead a life that is all that similar to the one presented by his cinematic representative. As great a film as this is, it could never really be mistaken for that ultimate of all unreachable ideals, THE TRUTH. And in some way I feel bad for the guy because of this. An entire world is now judging him based on the cinematic choices of the guy who made fucking Benjamin Button and an entertaining yet completely unrealistic script by Aaron Sorkin, who is almost as good at reducing genuine human dialogue to mathematically perfect and completely emotionless constructs of cringe-inducing, witty nothingness as any given episode of The Gilmore Girls. Still, it is a great movie, especially when viewed as basic, escapist entertainment. Despite my distaste for obvious and studied artificiality, the screenplay is undeniably well-written, which is important if you’re trying to maintain the general public’s interest in a story that takes place largely within the walls of academic institutions and private law offices that they themselves will never see or even begin to understand. Even the rampant distortions of fact, as always given excuse by the omnipotent artist’s freedom to play with the details for the sake of a better product, work entirely in the film’s favor. An impressive package overall, and one that even I must admit has its share of genuinely inspired moments, and the much-appreciated audacity to present us with an ostensible monster and gradually ask us whether it might be a better idea to pity rather than hate him. Still, though, the factual basis of the film—and the fictionalized story that it presents to the viewer—is little more than a vague investigation of whether or not one spoiled white guy stole an idea from some other spoiled white guys. Regardless of the investigation’s outcome, they’ll all still be rich and I still won’t care. The only real impact that a film like this can have is on how one man is perceived by the public to whom he has undeniably given something–regardless of whether or not it is something that will ultimately harm them on both their own personal levels and on the grander scale of human interaction itself. “Dislike.”

Rango (2011)
dir: Gore Verbinski

Oh hell yeah, this movie ruled! I’m not entirely sure how kids might react to it–because I don’t have any, because I’m not crazy–but I couldn’t have been more impressed. Come to think of it, this may by definition be one of the worst children’s films of all time. I really can’t see the average child getting a whole lot out of it. The pacing is extremely chill, the references are a good decade beyond most of the supposed target audience’s reading levels, and the characters stray refreshingly far from your average stock zanies and dangerously simplistic black-and-white stereotypes. Not to mention, this is some seriously surreal shit. I’m talking Dali level. The opening scene alone operates as a perfect visual synopsis of the title character’s fractured and borderline-insane psyche, setting up what not only amounts to the basic fish-out-of-water scenario of most lighter children’s fare, but goes far beyond that into a realm of existential near-dread that continues to plague even the most mentally “stable” of modern life’s adult population. This is essentially a quest for identity, a personal crisis of seeming worthlessness in a vast and sometimes frightening world that quite honestly doesn’t need us. Verbinski has skillfully disguised this downtrodden thematic nugget as a decidedly unique variation of the good vs. evil, “anybody can become a hero” simplistic hogwash that lesser filmmakers seem all too happy to feed to the next generation without any degree of genuine insight or nods toward possible conflicting viewpoints, which are themselves just as valid and deserving of exposition as the traditional classics. While a bit heavy for children, and thus more than a little bit likely to go completely unnoticed, these subversive ideas are a treat for those of us who like our entertainment to be smart and our education to be exciting. To describe too much of this film is to demystify it and subsequently rob it of its power, so I’ll keep this write-up as short as possible. For fans of spaghetti westerns, Luis Buñuel, indeterminate spiritualism, visual gags and the weirder stretches of Verbinski’s own Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (2007). Not for dogmatists, bullies, squares or actual children. “Pure psychic automatism” crafted with great skill and care. Enthusiastically recommended.

Marilyn Drew Necci

Marilyn Drew Necci

Former GayRVA editor-in-chief, RVA Magazine editor for print and web. Anxiety expert, proud trans woman, happily married.




more in community

This is What The Diamond District Ballpark Could Look Like

Finally, we have our first look at what the new Diamond District stadium will look like.  Recently acquired through a Freedom of Information Act request by Richmond BizSense, the preliminary designs, which are subject to change, offer a glimpse into the envisioned...

Matt Strickland and the Image of Strength He Must Demonstrate

Strickland Appeared before the Virginia Board of Elections “Buy the ticket, take the ride” is that old proverbial saying coined by Hunter S Thompson. I prefer the saying “take the ride, pay for the ticket. Now is almost the time for Matt Strickland to pay for the...

Richmond’s Next Mayor? Get to Know Garrett Sawyer

Today, I’m getting a drink with a politician. Coffeeshop, lunch spot, in-studio - those are perfectly fine places to get to know someone, but there’s nothing like a good whiskey to loosen up a conversation. Garrett Sawyer is meeting me at The Camel for happy hour on a...

Richmond Loves Its Baseball

Been Playing Since 1866. Cobb, Ruth, Williams, Mays Played Here. We Even Had a Major League Team — For 46 Games Everybody knows that our beloved capital city has a rich history. Settled by Native Americans, explored by English colonists, burned to the ground by the...

You Can Call Me Bill: An Interview William Shatner

Over the course of his decades-long career, he’s been known by many names: Captain James Tiberius Kirk, Sergeant TJ Hooker, Commander Buck Murdock, and even Stan Fields if you can be so bold as to tell us why April 25th is, in fact, the perfect date (Answer: it’s not...

Topics:

Pin It on Pinterest