Captain America: The First Avenger (The Unseen 2011)

"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time. The list, which moves backwards in time, is based on the highest-ranked film I've never seen each year on Letterboxd (as of April 2018). Captain America was #2 for 2011.

The Story: He's always an odd man out - initially as a scrawny Brooklyn kid who fails every Army physical and eventually as a fossil reawakened in a world he can't understand. But in between those two demoralizing positions, Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) gets to be exceptional in the best way possible. Chosen for a top secret World War II experiment due to his fighting spirit and unpretentious sense of virtue, Rogers is injected with a high-tech serum which expands his muscle mass and increases his endurance. The goal is to create a fierce fighting force of fellow supersoldiers; unfortunately, he remains an army of one when the leading scientist Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci) is killed, and the formula which transformed Rogers dies with him. Reduced to selling war bonds and touring the European theater in a tacky costume with the hokey name "Captain America," Rogers receives another opportunity for valor. He discovers that his childhood best friend Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan) has been taken prisoner by the renegade German faction Hydra, led by the scientist Johann Schmidt (Hugo Weaving). Schmidt has received the same serum as Rogers and becomes his nemesis, especially after Rogers defies Colonel Phillips' (Tommy Lee Jones') orders to rescue Barnes.

With the encouragement of the smitten British officer Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) and the technical support of Howard Stark (Dominic Cooper), Rogers leads a band of misfit commandos on war raids, eventually climaxing with a battle against Schmidt over the Atlantic. Saving New York City from a devastating weapon (powered by the mysterious Tesseract that later shows up in The Avengers), Rogers is forced to crash land on an icy island where his body is discovered in 2011. He wakes up in a familiar forties hospital room...but it's a bit too familiar: he remembers the baseball game on the radio from several years before his disappearance. Breaking out of the false soundstage where he's being held, Rogers races into the modern Times Square and is confronted by Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), head of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agency that has been cultivating superheroes across the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Informed that he's been frozen and comatose for seven decades, Rogers is most morose about the final conversation he had with Peggy shortly before his fate was sealed. "I had a date," he sighs, a Rip Van Winkle dismayed rather than relieved to discover the passage of time.

The Context:

TWIN PEAKS CONVERSATIONS #16 w/ The People's Joker director Vera Drew (YouTube & extended PATREON) premieres on Wednesday

In one of the more unusual Twin Peaks Conversations episodes, my guest is someone whose work does not directly relate to Twin Peaks but who has many Peaks reflections to offer nonetheless. Emmy-nominated editor, comedian, and newly-minted feature director Vera Drew debuted The People's Joker at the Toronto International Film Festival this fall, where it became a cause celebre - a subject of controversy, enthusiasm, and immense curiosity. A surreal, subversive riff on the Batman universe (particularly modeled after Todd Phillips' 2019 Joker, which we also discuss), The People's Joker is part superhero genre parody, part reflection on the 2010s comedy scene, and large part trans coming-out story. It's all surprisingly autobiographical for a film which features battles between Lego comic book characters, satirically dystopian visions of a society in which comedy is banned, and trips through an afterlife/alternate dimension with a magical puppet granting final wishes. In our freewheeling conversation, Vera and I discuss what is and isn't drawn from her own life in the film, the unique production process conducted during the Covid pandemic, and the whirlwind twists of fate that led to a media breakthrough and studio backlash (The People's Joker is currently in distribution limbo as Vera and her representatives push its case as a fair use work). We also dig into what David Lynch and Twin Peaks have contributed to her sensibility and aesthetic over the years, kicking off the podcast with this subject before shifting to her early and recent film/TV/online work. You can bookmark and refresh this page within the next few days (or keep an eye on my YouTube channel) for the upcoming premiere...

PART 1 on YouTube

(premieres at 8 pm Wednesday, December 7)

In the second, longer part of the discussion, exclusive to the $5/month tier, we focus more exclusively on Peaks topics, including Vera's original experience with the series, her fascination with The Return and frustrations with Part 18, and much more. We even take a side trip to the world of another cinematic influence on The People's Joker, Richard Kelly's Southland Tales (which I'll further discuss on another podcast very soon).

Listen to...

PART 2 on Patreon

(also premieres at 8 pm Wednesday, December 7)

Watch the trailer for The People's Joker & her original announcement

(and follow Vera on her YouTube channel + Twitter, Instagram & Tumblr)

There's a Podcast All Right - Denise Bryson w/ Vera Drew

(her guest appearance on another Twin Peaks podcast)

My video essay series Journey Through Twin Peaks

My podcast Class violence in 4 films: Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Irishman, Joker, Parasite

Peter Watkins' film La Commune Paris, 1871 Part 1 & Part 2

Stay tuned for my Patreon podcast conversation w/ Andrew Cook on Southland Tales

(coming later this week or next - will be linked here when available)

The Avengers (The Unseen 2012)

"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time. The list, which moves backwards in time, is based on the highest-ranked film I've never seen each year on Letterboxd (as of April 2018). The Avengers was #2 for 2012.

The Story: Jumping right into the action and never letting go, the film begins when the godlike Asgardian extraterrestrial Loki (Tom Hiddleston) arrives at a secret scientific laboratory to steal the Tesseract energy source (and intergalactic gateway) from the spy agency S.H.I.E.L.D. That's a mouthful, but The Avengers is largely unconcerned with the details of this intrigue which provide an excuse for its real purpose: assembling "the Avenger initiative," a team of misfit superheroes. Their task is enormous: stop Loki from opening a portal and marching an army of alien supersoldiers who will subjugate the Earth. Loki is determined to enslave the human race, converting them into mindless drones which - he proclaims - will be good for them as well as his own imperial ambitions; freedom is a curse and submission is the true nature of mankind. Only the plucky if unruly spirit of disparate individualists can prove him wrong, if they can coordinate that spirit without losing its drive. On a floating battleship where they've been brought together, these protagonists will quip and banter, fight amongst themselves, learn to work together, and develop a deep loyalty and commitment to one another, utilizing their disparate skills in order to save the world. While the narrative functions in a fairly self-contained way, it draws upon backstory and character development stretching into earlier entries from the Marvel Cinematic Universe like Iron Man (2008), Thor (2011), and Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), as well as a half-century of comic book lore. A certain familiarity with the characters is assumed despite some slight exposition.

These characters, contacted and persuaded - or forced - to enlist by S.H.I.E.L.D. in a globetrotting first act, include the cocky New York tycoon Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.); the old-fashioned Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans) who was recently thawed from ice after sixty-plus years and remains encased in a World War II era outlook; the weary, on-edge scientist Bruce Banner/Hulk (Mark Ruffalo, controversially replacing Edward Norton after Marvel's 2008 The Incredibe Hulk) who transforms into a raging green monster when he gets too angry; lightning/hammer-wielding Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Loki's brother and the Mufasa to that villain's Scar who is determined to protect this planet from the power of his own alien race; and Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent herself with a dark past (what Loki sneeringly calls "a lot of red" in her ledger). They are overseen by the determined but perpetually frustrated S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) who must balance their unruly natures with the demands of his ruthless superiors, and they're eventually joined by the deadly archer Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), who is initially captured and converted into a brainwashed henchman by Loki. Together they battle Loki's hordes in Manhattan, until Iron Man travels through a portal that has opened up over the city, delivering a nuclear payload to the enemy before falling back through this closing wormhole just in time to declare victory - and lead his new friends to an exhausted shawarma dinner after the closing credits roll.

The Context:

Class violence in 4 films: Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Irishman, Joker, Parasite (LEFT OF THE MOVIES podcast #2/LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #10)

For the second time (I previously covered Medium Cool in August, in light of the Democratic convention), I am turning my public platform over to Left of the Movies, my nascent political cinema podcast. The episode offers five-to-ten minute capsules of some of the most hyped films of 2019: Quentin Tarantino's reimagining-Manson late sixties dream Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Martin Scorsese's possibly apocryphal Hoffa portrait The Irishman, Todd Phillips' controversial DC-meets-gritty-seventies-crime-film reboot of Joker, and Bong Joon-ho's Best Picture-winning architectural horror portrait of inequality Parasite. All four films climax with violence that can be viewed through a class-based lens - destruction as an almost ritualistic way to either destablize or reinforce the social order. My discussion focuses on how these climaxes express their respective films' political visions.

The bulk of this episode was originally recorded in January 2020 but in the wake of Donald Trump's contentious loss, the Black Lives Matters protests and left-right clashes in the street, the coronavirus pandemic and its unequal economic fallout, and the electoral defeat of Bernie Sanders' populist movement in the Democratic primaries, it seemed like a good idea to revisit these films again in the light of such a world-historic ten months. So I recorded an extra ten or so minutes extending the previous discussion, including Trump supporters' image of him (vis a vis Hoffa and the Mafia in The Irishman), the irony of "white male rage" Joker anticipating the BLM protests six months later, and especially the way that all of these films explore individual outbursts rather than collective action. There's still much to dig into, so I hope some of the listeners will offer feedback that I can further engage in upcoming episodes.

Subscribe, rate, and review on Apple Podcasts

You can also listen on Pinecast and Spotify

LINKS FOR EPISODE 10

Debunking Quentin Tarantino's 'Mockery' of Bruce Lee by Eugene S. Robinson (OZY)

'Once Upon a Time ... in Hollywood' Review: We Lost It at the Movies by A.O. Scott (New York Times)

SEVEN AMERICAN GENERATIONS: iGen, millennials, X, boomers, silent, greatest and lost by Joel Bocko (Lost in the Movies)

Boomer Reunion: The Big Chill vs Return of the Secaucus Seven (video) by Joel Bocko (Lost in the Movies)

New on Patreon

(for $1/month)

Episode 73: Twin Peaks cinema - Belladonna of Sadness (+ Twin Peaks Reflections: Norma, Vivian, Ernie, Red Diamond Motel, Golf course, MT Wentz/The Final Dossier, The Devil's Bride & more) & Lost in Twin Peaks #16: S2E8 (Drive With a Dead Girl/"Episode 15")

(for $5/month)

Lost in Twin Peaks #17: S2E9 (Double Play/"Episode 21")

New on my site

(accidentally mentioned in previous episode too)

Post-election status update & explore the directory pages linked on my home page for new, sharp images on mobile

Guardians of the Galaxy (The Unseen 2014)

"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time. The list, which moves backwards in time, is based on the highest-ranked film I've never seen each year on Letterboxd (as of April 2018). Guardians of the Galaxy was #2 for 2014.

The Story: Fleeing his mother's (Laura Haddock's) deathbed in 1988, Peter Quill (Wyat Oleff) is abducted by aliens; we will later piece together that the space pirate behind this kidnapping, Yondu Udonta (Michael Rooker), adopted and exploited the human boy until he rebelled in adulthood. When we catch up with Quill (now Chris Pratt), he still listens to his mother's mixtape for inspiration but has otherwise moved far away from her beneficent vision of his character. Then Quill gets caught up in the intrigue surrounding a potentially universe-annihilating "infinity stone" desired by the godlike Thanos (Josh Brolin) but eventually intercepted by Ronan the Accuser (Lee Pace), a puritanical radical who wants to destroy most other races in a genocidal quest to live up to his twisted religious ideals. The reluctant hero gains, loses, recovers, loses again, and eventually seeks to intercept this small superweapon before Ronan can use it to destroy the peaceful Nova Empire, led by Irani Rael (Glenn Close) and dutifully protected by Rhomann Dey (John C. Reilly). In the process, Quill discovers a conscience and, just as importantly, comrades. The criminal lowlife, alternately known as "Star-Lord," is soon joined by the misfit all-stars of green-skinned assassin Gamora (Zoe Saldana), literal-minded and (literally) thickheaded refugee Drax the Destroyer (Dave Bautista), and two bounty hunters - the caustic, chip-on-his-shoulder mutant raccoon Rocket, and the kindly tree creature Groot (Vin Deisel, hired solely to repeat "I am Groot" as the only three words the creature can speak). Together, they break out of prison, race between various planets and starships, and slowly discover a purpose for their lives: guarding the galaxy from an imminent apocalypse while hopefully having a bit of fun in the process.

The Context:

Black Panther (The Unseen 2018)

"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time (reviews contain spoilers). The list, which moves backwards in time, is based on the highest-ranked film I've never seen each year on Letterboxd (as of April 2018). Black Panther was #1 for 2018.

The Story: After a terrorist attack on the United Nations kills his father, T'Challa becomes king of the African nation Wakanda. Presenting itself to the world as a humble agricultural country, Wakanda is actually a bastion of advanced technology, secretly developing flying ships, weapons, and clothing like the highly responsive, skintight, bulletproof "Black Panther" uniform. The king wears this costume while engaged in battle or more smallscale combat, for example pursuing the ruthless arms dealer Ulysses Klaue (Andy Serkis) to South Korea, allowing him to slip from mythology into the familiar superhero dynamics of the Marvel universe. Tasked now with ruling and defending this kingdom, T'Challa struggles with doubts about his readiness for the monarchy, discovers a dark secret from his father's past, and both loses and reclaims his throne, returning from near-death in the process.

If he is the central, title figure, the primary plot arc is nonetheless driven more by T'Challa's nemesis Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan), a Wakandan by birthright but an American by upbringing. Scarred by the poverty and persecution he saw around him as a child, orphaned at a young age when his father was killed, and radicalized by his father's belief that Wakandan technology should be used to help in the struggle of the oppressed, particularly those of African descent, Killmonger grew up to become a black ops combatant in the U.S. military, racking up kills and subverting governments around the globe. He assisted imperial conquest with the long-term goal of subverting the empire once he was trained enough to assume the Wakandan throne and lead a worldwide revolution. It is Killmonger whose family tragedy launches the film and whose needs and desires drive many of the narrative turning points - and he is the film's most striking, memorable character.

The Context:

The muddled message of The Dark Knight Rises

This piece, not a review proper but an examination of the film's themes, contains spoilers and is designed for those who have already seen the movie.

Four years ago, when this blog was in its infancy, I offered no less than four pieces touching on The Dark Knight. I was fascinated by the cultural phenomenon it represented, so rare these days. (I don't think even Avatar transcended the cinematic ghetto to the same extent; probably no other film since Titanic has, unless you discount the subsequent disappointment and include The Phantom Menace for its anticipatory buildup.) But I was also compelled by the film itself, which proved a sort of golden exception to my 00s blockbuster aversion. Aesthetically, The Dark Knight shared many of the flaws that turn me off from contemporary popcorn movies (which often seem to be either ashamed of the taste of popcorn or overly enamored of synthetic CGI butter). It took itself and its themes rather seriously; it preferred a muddy, gritty look to visual clarity and beauty; it seemed determined to make a comic-book world "realistic." Yet, in spite of these potential drawbacks, I was fascinated by the tragic, tightly divergent world it drew, as well as by the iconic performance of Heath Ledger as Joker. Even though I did not care for Batman Begins, I was converted to the Nolan Dark Knight camp, and eagerly awaited the next entry in the series. And here it is, cloaked in death like the first movie (following, rather than spurring the hype this time) - and thus assured of notoriety, however undesired by its creators.

Dark Knights for Different Eras

Our hero, a masked vigilante, concocts a disguise which will instill a sense of primal fear in the perceived enemies of his community. Opposed by a garishly made-up villain, fueled by anger at the death of a beloved woman, the hero strikes blows in the name of order. But the hero's crusade for extralegal justice is instigated by outside forces, as they introduce an element of chaos and anarchy into the community, and the hero must break the law in order to uphold it. "Welcome to a world without rules," indeed.

I of course don't mean to suggest that The Birth of a Nation, D.W. Griffith's epic 1915 ode to the Ku Klux Klan, and The Dark Knight, this summer's critically-acclaimed, crowd-pleasing blockbuster hit, are somehow identical. There are numerous differences, large and small (most importantly, the Batman movie isn't virulently, or even nominally, racist). Yet the other night I wrote about the Batman film's mythological overtones, and re-watching The Birth of a Nation for my D.W. Griffith series, I was taken aback by how Griffith's film also works on the level of myth, and in much the same fashion (both generally and specifically) as The Dark Knight.

The Dark Knight (revisited)

I've already reviewed The Dark Knight so I don't want to get into plot points, or the film as a whole, or initial reactions or anything like that. But I saw it again tonight, solidifying some of my early thoughts, and the whole phenomenon still fascinates. Why, and on what levels, does The Dark Knight work for me? There are a number of reasons it shouldn't.

As I discussed in my reaction to Jim Emerson's blog, I have fundamental problems with the way comic books tend to be translated from one medium to another. On the page, the symbolism and shorthand - the way characters and events stand for ideas and a kind of focused economy occurs, by which unnecessary details are left out of the frame - often packs a powerful punch. But in films, it usually feels like something is missing. This is especially true when the comic-book movie in question makes some gestures towards "realism" or "darkness" or "depth" which it then can't sustain because it has grounded itself in a shallow, surface-oriented kind of storytelling.

The problem with comic books (and movies)

Over at scanners, Jim Emerson has posed a series of questions about superheroes, comic books, and movies. To answer the title of his post, "Do critics hate comic-book movies?" he surveys the collective critical reaction to movies like X-Men, 300, and The Dark Knight and resolutely answers, "No." He follows up by asking, "where did this idea that critics dislike them come from?" As I wrote in his comment section, it's a fact that most critics are condescending towards the genre, although the more rabid fanboys also fuel the perception of immaturity when they overreact to criticism.

But it's a third question, unasked yet hinted, which most intrigued me and carried over onto this blog:

Is there something fundamentally wrong with comic-book movies?

To which I respond resolutely, confidently, and without trepidation: yes, no, and maybe.

The Incredibles

For some reason, I never end up seeing Pixar films until well after their release, often on video. Maybe it just feels weird going to an animated film when you neither are nor have a kid? Although, given the enormous success of these movies, I doubt I'd be the only non-prepubescent/parent in the theater. I'm always entertained when I finally see them, and The Incredibles is no exception. This 2004 feature may be the most acclaimed Pixar picture, with a great deal of credit going to animation auteur Brad Bird. He departs from the usual formula of anthropomorphizing animals, toys, robots, or cars, but his protagonists here aren't exactly normal humans, either...

Actually, the target of The Incredibles' ire is normalcy itself, in a fashion some have read as conservative (more on that later). The clever and often ironic, but also warm-hearted, tale follows the union of superheroes Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl. On the job, they flirt and exchange one-liners while fighting burglars, but as soon as the masks are off, they bicker and barter like any other married couple. And after a while, those masks stay off - a series of lawsuits causes the government to crack down on superheroes, placing them in a sort of witness protection program and banning them from donning cape and tights ever again. Fifteen years and several pounds later, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible have three kids, a suburban home, and the usual family fights and domestic discomforts to deal with (though invisibility and superhuman strength tend to jazz things up a bit). All is comfy, cozy, and somewhat boring. That is, until... well, you get the idea.

The Dark Knight

I finally got around to seeing The Dark Knight. Normally, on a Monday after a movie is released, this news would not be especially shocking. In the case of the movie which just shattered all box-office records for opening day and opening weekend, I can safely say I was behind the curve on this one. Actually I did try to go last night, but after arriving at 7:30 and discovering the next two hours' worth of shows were sold-out, we discussed our options and decided to buy tickets for the 9:50 screening.

Unfortunately, by the time we got to the kiosk, they were gone too.

So here it is, Monday morning, and I've just returned from a matinee showing of what is sure to be the biggest movie of the year. Or of all time, if some of the blogs and their comment sections are to be believed. The term "hype" doesn't quite do justice to the phenomenon we have on our hands here. All the rabid press aside, what communicated the power of this film to me was the sheer volume of people I knew who wanted to see it. Old, young, guy, girl, artsy, popcorn-munching, avid movie buffs, people who never go to the movies. At a cross-generational family reunion this past weekend, it was on everyones' lips.