Movie Review: Inside Llewyn Davis

Cat in the big city. Image via Rotten Tomatoes

Yes, Joel and Ethan Coen have given us a musical biopic. It doesn't mean they had to give you one about a real musician. Or even make the movie you wanted to see.

"Inside Llewyn Davis," the Coen Brothers' first film in a very long three years, is a welcome return to the big screen. It is the perfect awards season film that is also an anti-awards season film. It's a tale for the holidays that wears its icy heart on its sleeves.

Like most Coen Brothers films, "Inside Llewyn Davis" is based on something else, but how much it's based off of that thing is questionable. Davis is based on Dave Van Ronk. Most the songs in the movie are his, but Davis' personality is different. This mystery just adds to the charm.

Movie Review: Frances Ha

At a very brief glance, "Frances Ha" is nothing more than a walking indie film trope. "Frances Ha" has everything that indie filmmakers love: ukeleles, Paris, children of divorce."

I'm one to talk, as I consume movies like this a little too much. However, what seperates "Frances Ha" from the rest is its ambition and, despite its aimless characters, it actually has a good amount to say. Unfortunately, a lot of those things are left unsaid.


Dramedy is not the right word for "Frances Ha." Tragicomedy would be a better way to put it, despite the fact that not many big, tragic events occur during its short running time. "Frances Ha" is filled with a lot of sad characters who are stuck in ruts. Yet, Noah Baumbach manages to find little bits of humor in all of the depression that always work so well. He is not just showing how these people live, but also prodding at them a little bit.

Movie Review: Friends With Kids

Let's clear one thing up right now from the trailer of "Friends with Kids": this is not a rom-com. This is not even a comedy about love. It is more along the lines of a dramedy with some awkward laughs, and a lot of babies ruining things. Man, do children ruin everything.

Eight Nights of Hanukkah, Eight Nights of Movies: Night #3

Radio Days


"Annie Hall." "Manhattan." "Hannah and Her Sisters." I could have gone with any of these timeless Woody Allen classics, so why did I choose "Radio Days"? It wasn't an attempt to be original ("Annie Hall" is an easy choice, but it is a deserving one at that), but rather that "Radio Days" may just be the ultimate Jewish family comedy, and both a heartwarming and heartbreaking nostalgia trip.

Set during the 1930s and 40s, "Radio Days" is told in a series of vignettes that all connect back to the audio device that once ruled the world. Allen himself is never present onscreen, although he is the story's narrator. A very young Seth Green is Allen's stand-in onscreen under the name Joe. Joe obsesses over the radio so much that it starts to concern everyone in his family, especially his father (Michael Tucker). Joe is the youngest in a loud and rowdy household that includes an aunt and uncle and grandparents, as well as a family of Communists that live next door. His Uncle Abe (Josh Mostel, perhaps better known as Principal Anderson in "Billy Madison") brings home a huge bag of fish everyday and eats them. Raw.

 Allen so lively brings about an era in which imagination was king. It's funny to hear Joe's parents complain that he's rotting his brain away by sitting in front of the radio all day, and think that parents said the exact same thing about television decades later.

"Radio Days" is as much about the stars of radio as it is about the listeners. One in particular is Sally White (Mia Farrow) who has a difficult time making it as first, as listeners couldn't see beautiful face but could hear her voice, which sounds exactly like Lina Lamont's fingernails-on-a-chalkboard voice in "Singin' in the Rain." Luckily, one of these two people was actually able to make it.

Joe's family, who spends all their time in Rockaway, and the radio stars, who spend all of their time at fancy parties, never come together. However, the idea Allen wants to bring about is that the radio brought these stars, these stories, into Joe's living room, and they never left. That is the beauty of radio, of television, and of film: they make the unreal become a very real part of our lives. In that sense, Joe's family came to life for me and almost felt like my own. However, arguments, while frequent for us, never amount to debating whether or not the Atlantic is a greater ocean than the Pacific.

While the movie's end is sad in one sense, as the stars of radio realize they will not shine forever, it is also optimistic in that sense. When one star flickers and dims, another one shines, and a new opportunity comes about. Celebrities might not be famous forever, but the art they create makes them immortal.

"Radio Days" is that lasting artifact of Allen's self-deprecating humor and a prime example of why the king of neuroticism can never be dethroned. While it is funny, it is also so realistic. If you've ever had more family members piled into your house than you can count, and you remember it as a terrifying yet hilarious experience, then you should pile every single one of those family members back together in one room and watch "Radio Days."

Everyone Has to Start Somewhere: Who's That Knocking at My Door

It is a rarity for even the greatest director to strike gold at the very beginning of their career. Few and far between have broken the amateur barrier (Quentin Tarantino, Sam Mendes, and The Coen Brothers are rare exceptions), but even when they don't, future greatness can be seen in a scrappy debut effort. "Who's That Knocking at My Door," the very first movie made by Martin Scorsese, is not the kind of seamless masterpiece he would late go on to make, but it foreshadows a career steeped in Italian-American culture, New York City, and crushing Catholic guilt.

"Who's That Knocking at My Door" has all of the signs of a film school effort: blatant symbolism, aimless dialogue, and rough cuts. Indeed, Scorsese began making this movie while he was a student at NYU, and he continued working on it even after he graduated. The then unknown Harvey Keitel stars as J.R., a young Italian-American hoodlum who hangs out with a pretty volatile group of guys, yet that doesn't stop him from going to church to pay penance.

J.R. is the embodiment of what Scorsese must have been like in those days: he seems to only know what he sees in the movies and what he learns in Church. This basically entails knowledge of every John Wayne movie. To him, "The Searchers" is like another kind of gospel. His dialogue about Wayne is some of the finest, most naturalistic writing in any Scorsese film.

The girl in the movie (Zina Bethune), simply named The Girl, becomes J.R.'s new object of affection, and his love with her ends up testing everything else he holds dear. After their relationship buds, Girl reveals that she was once raped in a chilling flashback sequence that resembles what a filmed version of Joyce Carol Oates's "Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?" would look like. As a man loyal to his Catholic background, this makes him question his own faith, and what is really most important to him in his life.

This revelation does not come until very late in this film's short running time. "Who's That Knocking at My Door" does not contain the typical kind of plot. Rather than an event inspiring a series of actions that effects everyone, it is instead about an event inspiring a series of emotions that effects just two characters.

"Who's That Knocking at My Door" might feel inconsistent and messy because it seems less like an attempt to capture a fully realized story on screen but more like someone trying to capture the mixed emotions that make up their life on film. The irony of the sunny, happy-go-lucky music that plays in the credit sequence against footage of a man being beaten shows that this type of aggression was just a way of life where Scorsese grew up. The casual attitude of this scene is still shocking to watch. Meanwhile, playing "Who's That Knocking?" during the end sequence in the Church as the camera pans around all of the different representations of Jesus makes it feel less like a solemn walk through a holy place and more like a ride at Disney World.

Watching Scorsese's work on "Who's That Knocking at My Door" is like watching a diamond in the rough that would soon become one of the f***ing brightest gems in the history of cinema. From it, you can see where the basis of "Mean Streets," "Taxi Driver," and "Raging Bull" amongst many others came from. Even "Hugo," which is about a child who is much more eccentric than J.R. can draw its obsessive conversation about film back to Scorsese's debut.

Film can be one's attempt to show what they believe matters most in life and with "Who's That Knocking at My Door" Scorsese was establishing everything he loves and everything he values. And while his big debut certainly isn't flawless, we haven't been able to leave his side since.

Movie Review: Gangs of New York

Of all of the stunning images from "Gangs of New York," one that sticks out is a shot that starts off on street level, and continues to go higher and higher until the 19th Century style buildings become the shape of the island of Manhattan. Here is a city that, over the years, I've grown to know and love. Here it is, in a form like we've never seen before.

"Gangs of New York" is Martin Scorsese's latest vision of the mean streets of his beloved New York. However, it takes place 100 years before the days of "Mean Streets" and "Taxi Driver," during Civil War ravished America.

The film starts off during a vicious gang war in 1848. Amsterdam Vallon (Leonardo DiCaprio) is the son of respected Irish immigrant Priest Vallon (Liam Neeson). On the opposite side is Bill 'The Butcher' Cutting (Daniel Day-Lewis). Bill is the glass-eyed son of a Revolutionary War soldier who gushes with patriotism. He's known as The Butcher not just for his day job, but for his weapon of choice.

As tensions rise between the Irish and the so-called 'Natives,' Bill murders Priest. Many years later, Amsterdam returns to a corrupt, Boss Tweed ruled Five Points and seeks revenge.

"Gangs of New York" shows Scorsese's recent fascination with American culture wars, as this film can be seen as something of a counterpart to his recent "The Departed." However, this film explores the roots of American diversity. It's about the earliest days of bigotry, much of it rising from immigration. In a way, much of the situations and dialogue sound frighteningly similar to the current national conversation on immigration.

Adding on to this is the near accurate version of history portrayed. While Hollywood will often portray history through a myopic lens of clean precision, Scorsese takes no shame in showing the filth, the blood, and the anger that shaped this era. Extra special attention is paid to the stunning sets. At times, it can distract from actual plot depth, but it definitely helps raise the story's level of believability.

Of course Scorsese's direction is excellent, but what stands out most is Day-Lewis' performance as Bill the Butcher. He is truly the best actor of this generation, and the carrier of the method torch. He steps into the character and makes him both a blood-thirsty savage and a patriot feeling betrayed by a country he helped defend. He may be racist, but his feelings can be understood. Not to mention, all he has to do is sharpen a knife, or just squint his eyes to become the most intimidating presence in the film. He basically steals all chance for any other actor in the film to shine.

Now, back to Scorsese. What makes Scorsese one of the great directors of cinema is that he knows how to handle violence better than any other director. Of all of his films, "Gangs of New York" may be his bloodiest. While most directors might show someone being stabbed and barely show the consequences, Scorsese slows things down and allows us to see the horrible, dehumanizing consequences of each kill. Later, after another major battle, the cobblestone streets turn into a red river. To Scorsese, violence isn't something to cheer on or admire, but rather something to be sickened by. Meanwhile, the aerial shots of the war dead are reminiscent of the sprawling images of the dead in "Gone with the Wind."

Upon its release, "Gangs of New York" divided audiences right down the middle. I believe it is a minor masterpiece; it doesn't reach "Goodfellas" or "Raging Bull" heights, but its certainly no sign of a Scorsese downfall either. The film runs over two and a half hours yet races by as Scorsese explores his favorite themes of honor, religion, and family. Like in any Scorsese film, the backdrop, cinematography, editing, and score of "Gangs of New York" is extremely well detailed and masterful. They portray the chaos of the era in the same way that each room in "Goodfellas" distinguished when exactly Henry was doing well or doing poorly. And while some have criticized that too much is covered at once, it all serves to cover the chaos.

Part of the problem could be in the story itself. While Scorsese at first creates the interesting idea that while Bill hated Priest, he had a deep respect for him. Once the conflict between Bill and Amsterdam arises that inexplicably seems to disappear from the film together with little explanation. Many scenes also seem pulled right out of the revenge film playbook. For example, the scene where Amsterdam saves Bill's life so he can later murder Bill himself is pulled straight from "Once Upon a Time in the West." A little clarification is never a bad thing.

But, these are just minor flaws. Overall, "Gangs of New York" exceeds its epic counterparts (mainly "300") in creating a vision of the past that's exciting and fascinating without actually losing a grip on the history part. It's a beautifully made history lesson about the birth of a nation and a bitter love letter to a city that spawned one of the greatest directors of all time.