I Miss The Oscars

 

    There was once a time when I would get all excited for the Oscars. As a film buff, cinematographer, writer, and cinema enthusiast, I used to think of the Oscars as the highest point of cinema achievement. They were the golden standard by which I measured the peak of success and artistic greatness. Now, all I see is rich people giving golden statues to each other for no justifiable reason other than retweeting the video of Gal Gadot singing John Lennon's Imagine because it was trendy. As harsh as that may sound, it's the harsh reality. 

    I would like to make it abundantly clear that I do not intend to proclaim that saying decent and "liberal" things is not in and of itself a bad thing, nor do I mean to imply that those in Hollywood who preach such things are disingenuine. I am aware that many people in Hollywood are just like anyone else out there: decent people (generally speaking) who care about those less fortunate than others, aware of the injustices in the world, and aim to make a difference through art and actions. The arts have always been a wonderful place for acceptance, encouragement, compassion, and bravery. Wanting to make a difference in the world through the arts is a wonderful thing to desire. 

    It's just too bad that the Hollywood system does not agree with that mentality! 

    While making movies is still an art form, it is also a business, which is easy to forget and explains why Hollywood is constantly shooting itself in the foot. Because as an art form, it's expected to entertain and feature clever commentary on the world at large by providing a specific perspective on things that can be encouraging to the audience to feel good about themselves and do better. Accomplishing this requires taking a few risks, asking strange questions, and exploring things not yet fully explored. In other words, dipping your toes into the unknown. 

    On the other hand, as a business, it is also expected to meet a quota, sell a product, and ensure absolute financial success by rinsing and repeating whatever formula has proven to accomplish all said goals regularly. Corporations (which Hollywood is), by nature, do not care about the quality of their product or the effect it has on people, culture, or society as a whole, so long as it makes the most amount of money possible and caters to whatever the customer demands regardless of reason or common sense. In other words, for the business savvy, the unknown is forbidden territory. 

    There is an argument that some Hollywood movies succeed in delivering their artistic intentions while also abiding by their corporate demands. Shouldn't that mean that at least some people in the Hollywood system are more artistically inclined than their corporate overlords? Sadly, no, it does not. It only means that the corporate overlords who pay for the product don't care what the product says or how well it is made because they focus on the safe business aspects that will ensure them as much success as possible. 

    In other words, Hollywood does not respect anything, believe in anything, or desire anything other than whatever rakes in the most amount of dough at all times. It's the only reason Michael Bay still has a job. 

    Despite this unfortunate truth, Hollywood wants so desperately for you to believe that they are the exception. That they are more human and compassionate than other uberwealthy corporate conglomerates out there. This is difficult to believe when everyone who attends the Oscars receives a free gift bag loaded with swag that's apparently worth more than a new car, let alone the golden statue they may or may not take home with them later that evening. 

    By now, you may have noticed that I'm talking less about the movies that were nominated and won this past Oscar season. That's because to understand why the films received nominations in the first place, it needs to be made clear what contributed to their selections. Most of the films that were considered for an Oscar, especially Best Picture, did not receive their nominations or wins because they were good (which is debatable), but because they played the game set down by the Academy. Also, they spent the most amount of money on their award campaigns. Getting nominated for an Oscar has nothing to do with artistic merit or overall quality; it's about how much money you can throw at the Academy. 

    Films that want to be nominated for an Oscar must spend as much money as possible on something called "For Your Consideration" campaigns. Producers of a movie will send out free copies of a movie to Academy members, along with nice and often extravagantly expensive "gifts" to consider their movie for an award nomination. It's actually why the movie Queen & Slim from 2019 was not nominated for anything, despite how much it clearly deserved it; the producers didn't have any money in the budget for a campaign. It's basically a publically accepted form of bribery: they're technically not buying votes, but they might as well be. 

    Another thing to consider is the business advantage of having an award now before the next big movie. 

    Consider this year's big winner, Nomadland. While I appreciate the movie in some ways, in my opinion, it was not worthy of Best Picture. Of the films that were nominated for Best Picture this year, I was rooting for Promising Young Woman. That film not only provided a compelling amount of entertainment value from the clever writing and engaging performances, it also provided some much-needed commentary on the dangers of male privilege, something that still exists and continues to plague modern society in every possible way. However, for the older power-hungry men who make up most of the Academy, condemning male privilege is not something they feel comfortable with. So, they did what they always do: they gave it the Best Original Screenplay Oscar to keep the fans calm, so they didn't have to give it Best Picture. Not to say that the film didn't deserve that award, because it absolutely did!

    Also, the only likely reason Nomadland took home Best Director for Chloé Zhao (talented though she is) was so the guys over at Disney/Marvel could now market their upcoming Eternals movie as "From the Academy Award Winning director of Nomadland." As I stated in my original review for Nomadland, it does showcase Chloé Zhao as a talented director who thrives in telling human stories and clearly works well with actors. However, that is not what the marketing team over at Marvel will think about when putting together the advertising campaign for Marvel's Eternals. Mark my words, when the posters and trailers for Eternals hit the public, the most predominant text will likely read some variation of "From the Academy Award Winning Director of Nomadland." 

    Oscars are not about quality or artistic achievement anymore (assuming they ever were); they are about making empty platitudes, mixed signals, and promoting corporate interests. They have rarely if ever, determined the ultimate quality of a film. 

    While I still enjoy some products of the Hollywood system, the misguided practices of the Oscars are no longer one of them. My days of dreaming I could reach that perceived level of excellence are finally over, for they no longer have any value in my personal measurement of accomplishment. 

    "A gold medal is a wonderful thing, but if you're not enough without it, then you'll never be enough with it." 

-John Candy from Cool Runnings 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Double Feature - Marvel Shows on Disney+ (so far)

 

    There is no denying that Marvel Studios continues to reign supreme over the world of geek and superhero entertainment, which is perfectly fine with me. Amongst other well-deserved accomplishments, the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (or MCU for short) has generated some of the most amazing and emotionally resonating works in modern entertainment. After releasing their magnum opus, Avengers: Endgame, providing the epic and triumphant conclusion to their grand storyline, which they had built up for over ten years, Marvel Studios ended up taking a step back to do what they do best; plan their next big move. 

    While there are still a good number of new Marvel movies on the horizon, there have been a few mini-series released on Disney+ that, while not perfect, still retain the level of commitment and quality that has become expected of Marvel Studios. Now that all episodes of both original shows are available for streaming, I think it's high time I provide my thoughts on them both. 

    It should be noted that while these shows are well made in their own rights, and newcomers might get something out of them, these shows are best suited for fans of the MCU who have been following these characters and stories since the beginning or have managed to catch up on the events prior in whatever way most convenient for them. Fans of the MCU will undoubtedly enjoy these shows (mostly), while casual observers may feel a bit lost when presented with references to past events they haven't yet caught upon. 

    Also, in the interest of giving these shows their due, I will not be spending too much time recapping the stories or going into too many details about their narrative relevance to the MCU overall. I will focus primarily on their thematic elements, their intended goals, and rather or not they succeeded in accomplishing them. 

    This is TheNorm's take on Marvel Studios' original shows on Disney+. 

    We begin with the first show to hit the platform: 

    WandaVision is an unusual blend of homage, parody, and unusual methods for managing trauma. Nearly every episode of the show is presented as a classic sitcom from specific decades of American television. Opening with an homage to a 1950s classic like I Love Lucy and progressing to the next decade with almost every subsequent episode: Bewitched from the 1960s, All in the Family from the 1970s, Growing Pains from the 1980s, Malcolm in the Middle from the 1990s, all the way to recent sitcoms such as Modern Family. Each subsequent episode (mostly) replicates the look, style, and tone of every decade of television, with occasional hints that things are not as rosy as they might appear. 

    When it comes to well-observed mimicry, the show is amazing. The homages and references to their respective sitcoms are spot-on and clever. The filmmakers must have had tons of fun recreating all of the television shows classic style and atmosphere, right down to featuring a live studio audience for a few of the episodes. It's a level of authenticity one can only expect from Marvel Studios. 

    However, what really makes the show so interesting and ultimately drives the narrative is the true reason these characters find themselves in these perfect recreations of old-fashioned entertainment. Without going into too many details for the sake of those who have not yet watched the show, the entire situation is the external result of a compelling character struggling with trauma and grief. This character finds comfort in the shows she recreates as she deals with the loss of loved ones. It's a fascinating and heartful presentation of how grief can literally take you over if you're not careful. 

    While I still enjoy and appreciate this show for all of its good graces and well-delivered execution, it is not without its flaws. It still suffers from what I refer to as "MCU-Syndrome," where it will fall short of an excellent conclusion in favor of setting up the next series or movie. Most of the time, these moments of set-up for the next thing are relegated to post-credit teasers, but every once in a while, Marvel will get too excited and put a few of them inside the presentation a bit too early. Thereby depriving, however unintentionally, the intended impact of the story's conclusion. 

    Mind you, this was not so heavy-handed as to demolish the show's overall quality, as the whole show still delivers the expected goods, but it was enough to make me wish it had handled some things just a little differently. 

    Overall, WandaVision is a thoughtful and delightful exploration of the best ways (and not-so-best-ways) to face your grief and overcome trauma. Absolutely check this one out. 

    Moving right along to the next show that recently dropped its final episode on Disney+. 

    I have always said that Captain America is my favorite of the original MCU Avengers, including his entourage of supporting characters. The character of Captain America has always represented what America as a nation should be: flexible, empathetic, strong in the face of adversity, and always willing to do the right thing regardless of how challenging or dangerous it may be. These values may be difficult to spot in the real world, but that's why we have characters like Captain America; to remind us that not only can we do better, we should. 

    The story takes place about six months after the events of Avengers: Endgame and "The Blip" have been reversed. Long story short, "The Blip" refers to an event where a big evil guy wiped out half of all life in the universe, including The Falcon and Winter Soldier, and was gone for five years, only to be returned to life by The Avengers in a fantastical plan that could only happen in the world of comic book science. Anyway, at that time, people who were given homes and supplies due to "The Blip" were suddenly expected to simply leave, now that the original owners had returned to life. In response, a group of people calling themselves The Flag Smashers have taken it upon themselves to fight world governments and restore things to the way they were during "The Blip." 

    In case you're wondering why Steve Rogers, a.k.a Captain America, isn't in this story, that's because he's since grown old and passed away, leaving behind his shield in the capable hands of his good friend, The Falcon, whom Steve hoped would take up the mantle as the new Captain America. The Falcon has too much respect for Steve and does not think he's worthy of the honor, so he donates the shield to the Smithsonian. Things take an unexpected and poorly thought-out turn when the government suddenly decided that they want Captain America back. Hence, they give the shield, along with a new costume, to a highly decorated soldier in the hopes that he can fill the void left by Steve Rogers. 

    All of these events send The Falcon on a journey where he will learn some dark secrets, find old friends, and rediscover why he needs to become the next Captain America and what it means for him. 

    The greatest and most commendable aspect of this show is its commentary on the black condition, patriotism, PTSD, and what it means to choose to wear the stars and stripes. It's a story that dives deep into many aspects of American history and modern-day practices that continue to disenfranchise and divide. The show presents tons of hard questions that need to be answered. 

    This, incidentally, brings me to one of the show's problems: it tries to do too much. While the thematic elements and social aspects presented in the show are relevant and worthy of exploration, the show sometimes feels as if it doesn't have enough time to address them all. Sure, it comes full circle on a few of the issues it raises and does it well, I might add, but there are other aspects and story beats that seem to be a bit rushed and/or forgotten entirely. Resulting in, however unintentionally, a show that, while still entertaining and thoughtful, doesn't seem as if it has a lot to say. 

    Again, this is not intended to be a complete downer, nor do I intend to imply that the show is a failure because it isn't. The show succeeds in delivering a decent and timely commentary on the black condition in America and asks us to reconsider what being an American should really mean. I only wish that some of the other elements of the story and characters could have been handled a bit better, at least in my opinion. 

    Overall, these are both fine shows that mostly deliver the promised goods and are indeed worthy of your attention. If you have a Disney+ account or access a free trial, check them out. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Mortal Kombat (2021) - Almost a Flawless Victory

 

Stream it on HBO Max. 

    Movies based on video games, especially tournament fighters, have ranged from pleasantly silly to ridiculously terrible! Even in the age where video games have become more widely recognized as an artform, Hollywood, to this day, fails to capture their essence and appeal on-screen. There have only been a handful of movies based on video games that have been any good, including Street Fighter and Prince of Persia. The former is good because it embraced its own silliness to the benefit of the audience (not to mention the wonderful performance from Raul Julia), and the latter is great because the director took the time to actually play the game, thereby gaining a better understanding of how it could be translated to a film. Virtually every other video game to silver screen adaptation has either missed the point entirely or didn't care enough to put in the effort, resulting in unwatchable piles of garbage like the adaptation of Assassins Creed starring Michael Fassbender and the infamous Bloodrayne movie from director Uwe Boll. You know, the guy who challenged his critics to a boxing match just so he could beat the ever-loving crap out of them? Wonder why he hasn't worked in a while (rhetorical question)? 

    The Mortal Kombat series is no stranger to unusual cinematic adaptations. Having previously been given the Hollywood treatment back in 1995 with mostly decent results, only to be followed up by a few sequels that were...let's say less than glorious (putting it mildly). However, while flawed, this brand new adaptation is a welcome addition to the family of "good enough" video game adaptations. It may not be exactly what die-hard fans of the franchise are looking for, but it's at least a step in the right direction. 

    Based on the Mortal Kombat video game series created by Ed Boon and John Tobias, the story follows a down-on-his-luck fighter named Cole (Lewis Tan), who gets by taking last-minute cage fights and odd jobs to support his family. Things take a strange and dangerous turn when some ninja-looking dude named Sub-Zero (Joe Taslim), who can somehow manipulate temperature and create ice weapons, tries to kill Cole and his family, only for them to be saved by a helpful stranger named Jax (Mechad Brooks). It turns out that Cole, along with a handful of other fighters, has been chosen to participate in an ancient tournament called Mortal Kombat: a ritualistic challenge where fighters from all realms (there are multiple universes in this series) face off each other for potential dominance. Each realm has a few selected champions to defend their realm and ward off invasion. However, Cole is not quite the best fighter in his class and does not feel ready to handle such a task. Despite the odds being stacked against him, Cole must find his inner strength and accept the challenge, protecting his home and family. 

    The movie does a decent job taking the elements of the game series and integrating them into a coherent film. Among the many famous aspects of the original game series, including memorable costume design and profound character development, it is also infamous for being one of the earliest examples of graphic violence in gaming. While it has never bothered me, as it was part of the game's identity and charm (for want of a better word), some audience members might find it a bit distracting and over-the-top. Thankfully, the graphic violence is used appropriately and is never overdone for the sake of being overdone. 

    The fight scenes are excellent. Competently photographed, fluidly edited, and expertly choreographed, the film boasts some of the best martial arts scenes I've seen in recent memory. Making clever use of the story's supernatural elements and providing thoughtful execution of every fighting style utilized therein. In terms of action, the film delivers flawlessly. 

    Of course, great action and recognizable elements do not a good movie make. While the good parts are good enough for some decent pre-summer entertainment, the film still suffers from a common problem found in many movies based on tournament fighters: too many characters. Part of the appeal of tournament fighting video games is the roster of memorable and unique characters who offer most of the game's variety and player accessibility. When producing a feature film based on one of these games, there is a tendency to cram in as many original characters as possible to appease the fanbase. This often results in an overcrowded cast, leading to a lack of a central focusing point for the audience. Granted, Cole is a decent protagonist with a compelling enough story and relatable goal, but he often seems to get lost in the shuffle. 

    This overabundance of characters also creates an issue with the film's pacing. Because the story has to fit in as many characters from the games as possible, there's little in the sense of variety when it comes to pace and presentation. Scenes often seem to blend into each other with little to no sense of variety. Scenes that are clearly meant to have some kind of emotional impact often get whisked away quickly for the next recognizable character or fight scene. I'm not saying that this kind of movie needed to be as emotionally or narratively profound as, say, Lord of the Rings, but if you're going to have so many characters in your movie, then you need to provide enough breathing room for all of them. If you can't do that, then you need to cut some of them out. 

    Mortal Kombat is not a great movie by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a well-polished and surprisingly decent video game adaptation. It has just enough fun action and rich mythology to be engaging enough for a lazy Sunday viewing, provided you don't mind the graphic violence. 

    If you're a video game fan, you'll likely have a blast. If you're a passing observer, there's a little fun to be had here. If you're not a video game fan but are looking for something silly to enjoy, I recommend hunting down the original Street Fighter movie instead. That one is a bit more universal, and it will remind you why we loved Raul Julia so much. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Shakespeare Month - The Tempest (2010)

 

Rent it on Amazon, Apple TV, Google Play, and YouTube. 

    There are times when a Shakespeare adaptation hits you over the head like a brick. Rather it's due to epic scale or over-the-top presentation; some directors love to push Shakespeare to its limits. Nowhere is this more evident than in today's subject, The Tempest, a film adaptation from the same director as a popular stage adaptation, Julie Taymore; a director who can best be described as a broken fire hydrant bursting with energy and creativity...most of the time. 

    With that, allow me to give you a brief introduction to the woman herself, Julie Taymor. 

    An accomplished artist and theater director, Julie Taymor gained international acclaim for her riveting and fantastical Broadway adaptation of Disney's animated classic, The Lion King. Julie Taymor brought the beloved Disney film to life, using striking costume designs and elaborate on-stage puppet creations. Later on, she would try (and sadly fail) to bring that same level of grand theatrics to another famous property with Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark. Resulting in one of the most expensive and unfortunate failures in Broadway history. Not to mention the many, many trips to the emergency room for injured Spider-Men. 

    Although Julie Taymor tends to be most comfortable working on stage productions, she has occasionally tackled movies. Before making The Tempest, she experimented with another Shakespeare play, Titus, starring Anthony Hopkins and Alan Cumming. I have not yet seen it, but don't worry, I shall do so before the month is over. 

SOON...

    Anyway, whatever else can be said about Julie Taymor as a director, what should always be remembered is that not only does she appreciate Shakespeare, she understands it better than anyone else working on Broadway. Like many of her peers, she understands how simple Shakespeare truly is and uses that to her advantage with her presentation. 

    The Tempest is loaded with awesome visuals and breathtaking realizations. It's probably one of the few times when her extreme stage presentation style fits the play. Because The Tempest is one of Shakespeare's few magic-heavy stories, it allows Julie Taymor to play with her style and present Shakespeare in an energetic and entertaining-as-hell fashion. 

    Of course, no Shakespeare production, film or stage, is worth its salt unless it's got a great cast of talented actors who can handle the material. As you might expect, The Tempest is chock-full of wonderful actors. Like anything else she's in, Helen Mirren has the lead role of Prospero (renamed Prospera for the film) and dominates her part with conviction and enthusiasm. It also features a surprisingly decent performance from Russel Brand, who also has incredible chemistry with Alfred Molina. 

    Probably the best performance in the film, by far, has to be Djimon Hounsou as Caliban, Prospera's slave. Not only did he likely have the greatest challenge of performing the whole show wearing nothing more than a loincloth (for understandable reasons), but despite English not being his first language, he delivers every line of dialogue with clarity and deep emotional resonance. He is a genuine wonder to behold. 

    Now, as much as I do like and appreciate this film, it's not my favorite Shakespeare film. While I enjoy Julie Taymor's style on stage, and I admit that this film was probably the best use of it, I sometimes find it a bit distracting. There are occasional moments when the style seems to overtake the story. Granted, it's not as bad as, say, when Tim Burton does it, but it still happens from time to time. There are moments when I find myself saying, "I feel like this would make more sense on stage than it does on film" whenever I watch any film by Julie Taymor. This, in and of itself, is not a bad thing; it's just a slight notch against my personal preferences. 

    I do still recommend it as a fantastic and entertaining piece. If you need something classical and a little insane, this is a perfect choice. 

    Give it a shot. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Concrete Cowboy - Classic and Relevant

 

Stream it on Netflix. 

    I once mentioned on this blog how the western genre, as in stories of Cowboys and the old west, is still a viable element in modern cinema. I also mentioned how most of them tend to recall aspects of American history (both in their settings and the times they were made) that most of us would prefer to ignore or forget about. Not the least of which is the unfortunate and often overlooked whitewashing of American history and folklore. This, incidentally, is why I find today's movie, Concrete Cowboy, to be a wonderful and impactful presentation of the classical genre, a subversion of expectations, and a commentary on the black condition all rolled into one. This is one film that deserves your utmost attention. 

    Set in modern-day Philidelphia, the story follows thirteen-year-old Cole (Caleb McLaughlin), who is sent to live with his father, Harp (Idris Elba), after getting into another fight, nearly expelling him from school. Harp operates a make-shift stable and raises horses with his fellow Cowboy friends. Cole runs into his childhood friend nicknamed Smush (Jharrel Jerome), who has chosen a life on the streets as a drug runner but has ambitions for something better. Cole, meanwhile, hates being stuck with his estranged father but has managed to form an unexpected bond with one of the horses and takes an interest in learning how to care for and ride them. Will he learn the way of the Cowboy, or will he fall yet another victim of circumstance? 

    The film is packed full of unexpected and timely elements. For example, there really is a collective of modern-day cowboys who raise horses in the middle of Philadelphia. It continues to provide opportunities and hope for people within the community. The film even features some of the actual members of the aforementioned community in the cast. Not to mention the hardships they face from the many discriminatory practices of old and new. Sadly, something that is easy to overlook and must be repeated if things are to ever change for the better. The most obvious and well-made scene best illustrating this notion is towards the end, which I will not spoil, but let's just say it brings a certain recent event to your attention. 

    The cast is remarkable. Idris Elba delivers his professionalism and natural charisma to his role and screen presence. Caleb McLaughlin turns in a remarkable showcase of range. I always knew this kid was talented after seeing him in one of my favorite Netflix shows, Stranger Things, and I am glad to see him challenging himself and showcasing his capabilities. I hope to see him in more future projects. The supporting cast is chock-full of likable and fun characters delivered by stellar performers, including Lorraine Toussaint as the cool tough love "aunt" and Method Man representing what it should take to be a genuine officer of the law. 

    If I am allowed one nitpick, I wasn't particularly fond of the film's pacing. There were times when the movie felt as if it was dragging on for a bit too long. I understand why it maintained that pace, as it fits the intended mood and theme of the story. Even so, I would have preferred that the film had a bit more variety in its tempo. To be fair, it does have moments that provide such variety, but they're too few and far between. 

    Despite that, Concrete Cowboy is a beautiful film that could not have arrived at a better time. It's one of many recent films reminding us why it's important to step out of our own bubbles from time to time and acknowledge the serious changes and reformations needed in the modern world. 

    Check this one out. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

    

Shakespeare Month - Anonymous (2011)

 

Don't rent it on Amazon, Google Play, Apple TV, and YouTube. 

    First of all, the answer to the question presented by the poster is a resounding no! Second, while the idea of a conspiracy surrounding "the actual authorship" of Shakespeare's works could make for a potentially interesting story, this is not one of them! Third, the only reason this question exists in the public consciousness is because of overly privileged, uber-wealthy, and arrogant idiots who have nothing better to do but proclaim that no one could churn out such masterpieces unless they are of proper breeding, highly educated, and are linked to some kind of misguided prestigious legacy. None of which describe Shakespeare, and all of which insults his memory. To quote Anton Ego from the best PIXAR film ever, Ratatouille, "Not everyone can become a great artist. However, a great artist can come from anywhere." 

    Anonymous comes from Hollywood's biggest mixed bag of opinions, Roland Emmerich. 

    The son of a wealthy gardening tool company owner, Roland spent most of his youth traveling the world living off his dad's money. After making his way through film school, he showed up in Hollywood making fantastic summer blockbusters that, while memorable and entertaining in some ways, often fail to provide much in the way of enrichment or elevation. While he is, at the very least, a much more interesting blockbuster director than someone like Michael Bay, if for no other reason than he at least knows how to tell a story, he has shown himself to be an arrogant jerk at times. Case in point: today's film Anonymous. 

    In my previous Shakespeare film review for Chimes at Midnight, I mentioned a group called the Anti-Stradfordians. For some reason or other, these are people who do not believe that William Shakespeare of Stratford actually wrote the plays attributed to him. Rather, they believe that Shakespeare was a front-man for the "actual" author, who was more likely a wealthy nobleman and, according to some of these idiots, the man who could have stopped the creation of America. 

    Now, while his film Anonymous is technically the subject for today's review, I'm not going to be spending much time on it. Mostly because the film has already been properly reviewed and ridiculed in an episode of the YouTube show Brows Held High hosted by Kyle Kallgren. Rest assured, I have watched the movie, and it is indeed as terrible as the episode proclaims. Instead, I will review and respond to another piece of media made by Mr. Emmerich regarding Shakespeare's works that are tangentially related to the film. 

    Before the movie's release, Roland produced and hosted a short video essay in which he provided ten reasons why he believed Shakespeare was a fraud. Needless to say, every claim is fraught with misconceptions and provides a classic case of absence of evidence mistaken for evidence of absence. Many of the questions he proposed in the video are brought up and "answered" (terribly and incorrectly) in his big movie. However, even the most fleeting glance of history and cultural context will immediately showcase how childish and arrogant these questions are. 

    Here are my responses to Roland's ten claims regarding Shakespeare's authorship question. 

Question#1: 

    Why is there no evidence of Shakespeare's handwriting? 

Answer: 

    Because no one bothered to preserve it. Shakespeare lived in a time before the concept of "biography" was around. Unless you were royalty, no one worked to preserve letters, journals, or other such chronicles of your life. Any such documents were normally lost to history. Plus, while popular and beloved in his time, Shakespeare was not the sort of high-class privileged person to warrant such treatment. It's not that no one wanted us to know who he was; he was just not important enough to historians of the time. 

    Besides, despite what the Anti-Stradfordians would have you believe, there is indeed evidence of Shakespeare's handwriting. After all, how else would they have been able to compare his signature with other writers and poets of the time?

Question#2: 

    If Shakespeare himself was such a genius at writing, why were both of his daughters illiterate? 

Answer: 

    Education for women in Shakespeare's time, even amongst the aristocracy, was minimal at best and non-existent at worst. Women were basically regarded as second-class citizens who had no purpose in a "man's" world outside of servitude and producing children. This attitude is still practiced within the GOP. Oh, was that my out-loud voice? 

Question#3: 

    If Shakespeare was not of the upper class, how was he so familiar with their ways? 

Answer: 

    Shakespeare lived and worked within the aristocracy despite not being one himself. Shakespeare's audience consisted of both working-class folks and royalty, so it often became good to familiarize himself with both classes' recognizable things. If you're writing a story about a baseball player, and you don't know anything about the sport, you will either research the subject extensively or not write the story at all. 

Question#4: 

    If Shakespeare was so good at writing, why was his signature so sloppy and terrible compared to his peers like Christopher Marlowe or Francis Bacon?

Answer: 

    Good penmanship does not automatically indicate good or talented writing. Quentin Tarantino, the filmmaker who won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for his films Pulp Fiction and Django Unchained, writes all of his scripts by hand in sloppy, often incoherent penmanship. His scribbles are then handed over to an assistant who types and formats his scripts for production. All because Quentin Tarantino, talented though he is, utterly despises modern technology and prefers to remain as analog as possible. Are we to believe that Quentin Tarantino never actually wrote any of his works because he doesn't use a keyboard? 

Question#5: 

    Why do none of Shakespeare's works reflect any of his own life experiences, like the loss of his young son? 

Answer: 

    The concept of biography and auto-biographical inserts into one's creative writing did not exist in Shakespeare's time. Any such elements would have been mere coincidental trivia and nothing more. Plus, the assumption that people need to experience things before writing about them didn't come into fashion until the 19th century. Speaking as an author myself, in my book A Most Mutual Bond, the characters are attending Portland State University. I've never enrolled in that school, but I have been to Portland. Creative writing should never be constrained by one's experience, and anyone who says otherwise is only trying to boost their false sense of superiority. 

Question#6: 

    How can it be that Shakespeare was so knowledgeable of things like medicine, philosophy, and aristocratic practices if he never attended The Stratford Grammar School or any school for that matter? 

Answer: 

    Having an expensive education or traditional schooling does not denote intelligence. Just look at George W. Bush. Books were available to the middle class, and since Shakespeare was a professional writer, it stands to reason that he likely read a lot of them. Furthermore, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. Just because there is no official record of Shakespeare attending any school does not prove that he never did. 

Question#7: 

    Why did Shakespeare stop writing entirely after he retired? 

Answer: 

    Why does anyone stop doing their job once they retire? Even if you love what you do, you might want to step away from it for a while if you've done it long enough. Also, since Shakespeare died in his mid-forties, it's easy to speculate that he might have continued writing after a few years of retirement. Cher has "retired" at least twice now. 

Question#8: 

    How could Shakespeare know so much about Italy if he never traveled outside of England? 

Answer: 

    Shakespeare loved Italy. Half of his plays mention or take place there. Even though he never traveled there, he somehow grew a fondness for the place. How? Well, several ways. He might have had close conversations with friends who had been there. He likely read many books about the place. He probably observed many paintings and sketches of the landscapes and buildings. It is possible to admire and learn about a location of interest and never actually go there. Fantasy writers do it all the time. 

Question#9: 

    Why does Shakespeare's original Stratford monument depict him holding a sack of grain instead of the quill and parchment depicted today? 

Answer: 

    Shakespeare had more than one profession. While Shakespeare was writing plays and sonnets, he or his family members in Stratford operated a small business selling malt and grain. This is something that the aristocrats simply didn't like. Because, as we all know, no artistic type has ever needed to maintain a day job to pay the bills while crafting masterpieces for the masses! As awesome as it would be, artists can't survive on dreams alone. 

Question#10: 

    Why did Shakespeare not leave a single book or manuscript of his works to his family in his will? 

Answer: 

    Because he didn't own any of his works. All of Shakespeare's plays belonged to the playhouses that paid for and staged them. There was no copyright system in Elizabethan times. Playwrights rarely made any money for their works outside of their initial commission payment with no royalties or ticket sales share. 

Conclusion: 

    The authorship question is nothing more than a blatant attempt by entitled idiots to affirm their misplaced sense of superiority. Shakespeare was a talented writer whose works continue to resonate with all people of all backgrounds and professions. Shakespeare is not only a part of theatrical or literally culture but of all culture. If you cannot appreciate Shakespeare's universality and can only see him through the fogged lens of elitism, then you don't truly understand Shakespeare at all. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Shakespeare Month - Chimes at Midnight (1965)

 

Stream it on HBO Max and The Criterion Channel 

Rent it on Amazon, GooglePlay, YouTube, and Apple TV 

    Orson Welles is most often remembered for making one of the most fascinating films in American history, Citizen Kane. Throughout his career since then, he's racked up several equally awesome accomplishments. Later in his career, he left Hollywood to spend his remaining days making creatively unhinged arthouse films in Europe. Probably the most interesting of his experiments was his Shakespearian epic, Chimes at Midnight. The greatest Shakesperian story that Shakespeare didn't actually write. 

    What I mean by that is not what most conspiracy theorists and anti-Stratfordians would like you to believe (don't worry, we'll get to those idiots soon enough); rather, it is a film that combines a handful of Shakespeare's plays into a single story with a unique interpretation and equally awesome presentation. Chimes at Midnight is a kind of abridged version of Shakespeare's History of Henry IV Part 1 and 2. In the original plays, the story followed Prince Hal's journey, a young prince who must learn to leave his debauchery lifestyle behind and assume his responsibility as King. In Chimes at Midnight, the story places one of the supporting characters (arguably the most popular) as the central protagonist: the chubby, lovable, and mischievous Falstaff. 

      In Elizabethan times, Falstaff as a character was incredibly beloved. He is jovial, a bit of a glutton, an occasional con artist, and often the life of the party. In that way, he's an unofficial court jester, regularly making fun of the monarchy and dismissed as fits of madness. A proper analog to his character would probably be someone like W.C. Fields, an insult comic who is surprisingly always fun to be around. A more contemporary example would have to be John De Lancie's Q from Star Trek: The Next Generation but without the superpowers and only a fraction of the infinite "wisdom." A rather large fraction, but a fraction nonetheless. 

    There are many aspects to Chimes at Midnight that make it a fascinating piece to behold. Much like the original plays, the film centers around Prince Hal and Falstaff's relationship. Without going into too many details, Orson Wells makes a series of subtle creative changes that offers a unique and often unexplored take on the nature of their friendship and their eventual falling out. It is a presentation that offers a more optimistic end to Hal's, and Falstaff's friendship than was is traditionally seen in the original plays. One that almost feels like an attempt to provide a more satisfying sense of closure to both the beloved character and his creators. 

    Narrative presentation aside, the film also boasts a ton of awesome technical attributes, especially for the time. Much like Orson Welles's famous work, Citizen Kane, it features gorgeous black and white cinematography with crisp deep focus, bold lighting, and an excellent sense of framing with creative use of foreground and background elements. I might go so far as to argue that it looks much more fascinating in Chimes at Midnight than in any of Orson's other films, especially his aforementioned masterpiece, mostly due to the years of advancement in camera and lighting tech along with plenty of time to perfect the craft. 

    Chimes at Midnight is the kind of film that can appeal to cinema buffs and theater geeks alike. It is magnificent work that provides a great sense of fun and entertainment value not often seen in films of this nature. Do yourself a favor and check this one out. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading. 

Shakespeare Month - Throne of Blood (1957)

 

Stream it on HBO Max 

Rent it on Apple TV and Amazon 

    When discussing Japanese cinema, it is virtually impossible not to mention Akira Kurosawa, a.k.a. The Emperor. Kurosawa is a beloved name in international cinema and has been an inspiration in the arts for generations. His influence can be seen in one of the most recognizable American cinema works, Star Wars, as George Lucas modeled much of his concepts and visual style after Kurosawa's Samurai epic, The Hidden Fortress. Like many great artists, past and present, Kurosawa took much influence from Shakespeare's plays. His most famous example is his Samurai interpretation of Shakespeare's tragedy, The Scottish Play. Otherwise known as Macbeth. The story of power's corruption, deadly ambition, and guilt-induced madness. 

    Macbeth is one of Shakespeare's most popular plays, and for a good reason. It's a commentary on the abuse of power and the neverending cycle of violence in the name of ambition that continues to resonate with audiences even today. The hit television show, Breaking Bad, was inspired by Macbeth. However, what makes Kurosawa's take on the play so unique, at least to me, is how he interpreted cultural and philosophical aspects. Taking themes and ideas that were traditionally found in western culture and replacing them with ones found in his own, showcasing yet again Shakespeare's universality and providing a different perspective on a classical story. 

    Unlike the previous movies based on Shakespeare's plays I've talked about so far, this particular adaptation does not utilize the original text. It follows the same story and plots almost beat for beat, but the dialogue and general presentation are completely their own. And a large part of that has to do with the cultural influences of the director. 

    Shakespeare, as I've mentioned before, is entirely driven by his text. He wrote his plays with a bare stage in mind and heavily relied on messengers and secondary characters describing the scene's setting and mood. However, Akira Kurosawa drew much of his filmmaking style from Noh Theater: a Japanese theater style that utilizes exaggerated masks and elaborate body language to convey character, a scene's intended mood, and theme. 

    Kurosawa carried this style of theater into his films. Utilizing specific makeup and costume styles, along with carefully choreographed blocking and camera movement, replicating this ancient style of storytelling. 

    Along with his influence from Noh Theater, Kurosawa's signature also includes his use of movement with nature. Elements like wind and rain often play a significant role in his films to some degree. In Throne of Blood, he uses lots of dense fog as both a visual realization of the moral questions presented by the story and as a means of contributing to the more ghostly aspects of the original play. 

    The greatest difference between Shakespeare's original play and Kurosawa's take on it is his ending message regarding power and rulership. According to Shakespeare's philosophy, as evidenced by the original ending of the play and other external accounts, he favored the idea that the world is only set right when the right kind of people are in power. When an illegitimate king takes the throne, the world is set into chaos and can only be set right when the proper heir assumes power. 

    However, Kurosawa presents a different interpretation, one that is more akin to his own philosophy but is equally valid, if not more so. While Throne of Blood more or less retains the original ending, Kurosawa includes a traditional Japanese chant reflecting on the unchecked desire for power. Thereby submitting that it does not matter who takes the throne; it is the desire to get the throne in the first place that is itself destructive, both for the people and the ones in power—a very Buddhist perspective. 

    These are but a few of the many fascinating artistic aspects of Akira Kurosawa and his films. Of all the film versions of Macbeth I have seen so far, Throne of Blood is my favorite. It retains the vital elements of the original story while presenting it differently and strikingly. If you are a fan of Shakespeare, Japanese cinema, or at all curious about either, you owe it to yourself to check out this film. 

    Oh, and one more thing. The arrows at the end are REAL! You'll understand when you see it. 

Ladies & gentlemen, I am TheNorm; thank you all for reading.