An unnerving horror that is upset by its own marketing.
Agent Lee Harker (played by Maika Monroe) is tasked to solve a series of murders from the 1990s where the patriarch, without any provocation, kills his own family and then himself. Aside from the MO, the only thing that ties all these cases are the cryptic letters left behind, and the name that signs them off: Longlegs.
The best sort of horror films are the ones that still stick around after the credits roll. In the company of Hereditary and The Silence of the Lambs, Longlegs cling to you like cigarette smoke. It's palpable; the atmosphere that director Osgood "Oz" Perkins conjures up. He withholds information—scenes are played out in areas where light struggles to take root; bits and pieces of Longlegs (Nicolas Cage) are hinted at or glimpsed in most of the movie. You're kept on tenterhooks before the inevitable tug.
Monroe, who found her sure footing in It Follows, plays the mousey agent Lee Harker. The detective seldom makes eye contact and is a bit of an odd duck but her anxiety is evident, especially whenever she deals with her religious mother played by the captivating Alicia Witt.
You won't get all your questions answered in Longlegs. That might be frustrating to have a lack of closure on certain issues but that's the appeal of the movie. That violent acts sometimes occur without rhyme or reason. In the movie, the Satanic Panic is given weight as the devil (or some paranormal simulacrum of Old Nick) is the entity pulling the strings. Or is it just a convenient bogeyman to point a finger at? We'd never know but, again, it's this sort of uncertainty that lingers.
Longlegs also features a well-trod theme: how children survive their parents. Whether how parents raise their kids is intentional or well-meaning, we bear the marks (or scars) of our upbringing. Real life seem to have spilled over into Longlegs: Perkins is the son of Antony Perkins and his father's homosexuality being kept a secret inspired the film. Cage based his Longlegs performance on his mom, who was a schizophrenic and severe depressive. The hair, the white face, the incoherent utterances, Cage's performance is unforgettable. But on the other side of that same coin...
...Cage's performance may not ellicit the proper reaction from moviegoers.
During my screening, a few patrons started giggling when Longlegs appeared on the screen. Is it from how over-the-top Cage's acting is? Or from nervousness? We don't know but it took the rest of us out of the movie. Then, again Cage's portrayal was egged on my Perkins' directions so maybe the director knows something that we don't.
In what is seen as the ballsiest marketing move ever, Longlegs' production house and distributor, NEON, ran a campaign that did better than "show-not-tell"—they didn't show Longlegs. Instead, they ran clips to set the tone. One such marketing stunt involved Monroe's heartbeat that spiked when she first met Cage in his Longlegs persona. While it created buzz, it also set the bar for how scary the film is unrealistically high. I enjoyed Longlegs and think the movie is in a league of its own but when it is set against NEON's marketing highfalutin claims, I was a tad disappointed.
In short, don't buy into the hype.
Kiernan Shipka, who was in Perkins' The Blackcoat's Daughter (another atmospheric horror), returns here as the only known survivor of Longlegs' crimes.
Longlegs requires multiple viewings to fully pick up on the bits of easter eggs and clues. Like the "cuckoo" that Longlegs utters. There's a theory that "cuckoo" refers to the real-life behaviour of the cuckoos, who lay their own eggs in other bird's nests and trick the host into raising the cuckoo's young. Whether that's the reason for Longleg's "cuckoo", it just adds another layer of lore to the movie.
Also, there's little information about the film's composer, Zigli. He's an almost-unknown to the music scene and all that is known about him is, according to Milan Records, that the composer described himself as a “humanoid vessel for the delivery of sounds and songs.”
Longlegs is now out in theatres.
(Editor's Note: This was originally posted last year but we've re-up this write-up due to Oppenheimer's Oscar sweep.)
Get sucked in by the drama and Cillian Murphy's stare.
Now this is a story all about how / the world got flipped turned upside down / with a bomb from the Manhattan Project cadre / here's the life of Oppenheimer (and his thousand-yard stare).
Christopher Nolan isn't making films, he's creating an experience. For his latest trick, he presents the biopic of the father of the atomic bomb, J Robert Oppenheimer. Adapted from American Prometheus written by Kai Bird and Martin J Sherwin, the film chronicle the famed theoretical physicist's life, from student life at Cavendish Laboratory in Cambridge to being the director of the Los Alamos Laboratory to getting his security clearance revoked due to tenuous communist ties.
It seemed strange for Nolan to take up a profile like Oppenheimer (played by Cillian Murphy). Especially, when it's shot in Nolan's preference for the IMAX experience. There are no action scenes, nothing that befits the movie being shot on large format film stock—IMAX 65mm and Panavision 65mm film—(there was an estimated 17.7km worth of finished film stock) but Nolan sees it apt to highlight Oppenheimer on such a scale.
It's quite amazing how it all came together. There's nary a dull moment throughout the film's three-hour running time thanks to Nolan's deft direction, stellar ensemble and immaculate sound engineering. Not content with a linear re-telling of Oppenheimer's life, the film jumps back and forth to key moments and not only that it switches between the perspectives between Oppenheimer and Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr), a senior member of the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission (AEC); one in colour and the other in stark black-and-white, respectively.
The sound and music for Oppenheimer is something to behold. Faithful to the physics, the sound follows after we see the explosion. This is also true during a storm, where we see the flash of lightning, followed by the boom of thunder. When the first nuclear weapon test started, the expected sounds of the explosion were sidelined by Oppenheimer's breathing as he saw the conflagration of fire and billowing smoke. In the theatre, we sat transfixed by the near-silence of the explosion before the sound kicked in.
In his second time working with Nolan, Ludwig Göransson took Nolan's advice in using the violin as Oppenheimer's central theme. Göransson said that the stringed instrument could go from "the most romantic, beautiful tone in a split second to neurotic and heart-wrenching, horror sounds".
The best example is the nuclear explosion at Trinity (the codename of the site where it took place). We were at the edge of our seats in the lead-up to the experiment. Which is weird because all the historical accounts said that the experiment went off without a hitch. But how it was edited and soundtracked, you hope the experiment will be successful.
Cillian Murphy, who is well-known for his tenure in the TV series, Peaky Blinders, puts on a defining performance as Oppenheimer. Demonstrating the complexity of Oppenheimer with nuance would hobble a lesser actor but not in Murphy's hands. With Murphy, Oppenheimer comes across as a sympathetic Frankenstein (the doctor not as most erroneously would assume, the monster), a man who witnessed the mysteries of the atoms with awe and, later in the film, as a nuclear shade who is now the self-appointed martyr for ushering in the Atomic Age.
Furthering adding to fleshing out Oppenheimer, Murphy went on an intense transformation by reading up on the Bhagavad Gita, a Hindu religious text that Oppenheimer would quote from and going on a diet that reduced him to his character’s stick-thin frame.
Downey Jr gives one of the better performances of his career as the embittered Strauss, who has a fractious relationship with Oppenheimer. Driven by ambition, Downey Jr displays a man who is an imposing figure in America’s nuclear program but dwarfed by his pettiness against a slight from Oppenheimer. Emily Blunt plays Oppenheimer's wife, Kitty, and she holds her own in this movie. Her deathstare towards her husband's ex-colleague or her bemused reaction during an interrogation, Blunt conveys the hidden pillar of strength in Oppenheimer's marriage.
I'm just glad that Murphy is back to playing the lead for a major film. To my limited memory, the last movies that he headlined were Sunshine and 28 Days Later.
Because there's something mesmerising about the way he stares at you; as though vacant but yet arresting at the same time. I'm pretty sure if there was a short film of just the camera pushing in slowly into Murphy's haunted mien, people would pay money to see it.
I mean, look at him. Now imagine if this was in colour, you will DIE IN THOSE POOLS OF BLUE.
Seven words: NOT SEEING CILLIAN MURPHY'S DONG ON IMAX.
I'm joking. Mostly. I'll explain.
This is Nolan's first R-rated movie and it includes Oppenheimer's love life with Jean Tatlock (played by Florence Pugh). Nolan felt that the intimacy between Oppenheimer and Tatlock were necessary to showcase the couple's connection. There were rumours that this might show full frontal nudity from both actors but, alas, nothing from Murphy. Not even a bare buttock. (We are all about having male actors go the full monty on the big screen. CHILL IT WITH THE DOUBLE-STANDARD, HOLLYWOOD.)
I get that Nolan doesn't want to shy from Oppenheimer's intimate moments but it felt gratuitous. Instead of the sex scenes, maybe it would be nice to have more insight into Tatlock's life and motivations. The character does not seem fully fleshed out and even Emily Blunt's Kitty barely escaped this bare-bones characterisation.
The number of established actors that are part of this cast. Aside from the marquee names like Matt Damon as Lieutenant General Leslie Groves and Florence Pugh as Jean Tatlock, there are other notable faces to spot. Personalities like Jason Clarke as Roger Robb; Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence; Dane DeHaan as Kenneth Nichols; Benny Safdie as Edward Teller; James Urbaniak as Kurt Gödel; Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman; Olivia Thirlby as Lilli Hornig; Casey Affleck as Boris Pash; Kenneth Branagh as Niels Bohr; Gary Oldman as President Harry S Truman and so on.
The only notable person not in the cast is Sir Michael Caine. Having appeared in all of Nolan's production since Batman Begins in 2005, this is the only film that doesn't feature him.
Also, don't forget the end-credit scene that sets up the Oppenheimer sequel. JK.
Oppenheimer was out in theatres and now lives rent-free in our collective heads.
All sound and fury but it also signifies something... familiar?
An intergalactic fascist empire rules the galaxy with an iron fist. Its military threatens farmers on the distant moon. A former soldier seeks out a rebel faction to make a stand against the empire. This is Star Wars- I mean, Rebel Moon.
Watching Rebel Moon: A Child of Fire, you might be immediately clued into director Zack Snyder's film inspiration—Star Wars. To be fair, films about the little guy going up against a group of baddies will follow a narrative thread similar to Star Wars... but then again, even Star Wars took inspiration from Akira Kurosawa's Seven Samurai. So, yes, if we want to pick nits, Snyder took inspiration from Star Wars and Seven Samurai. There will be similarities but Snyder wanted to create something wholly original so you gotta respect the man's hustle.
It's that timeless tale of the Motherworld, who controls the galaxy. They have a military aka the Imperium, that threatens a farming colony on the moon of Veldt. Kora (played by Sofia Boutella) is an ex-Imperium soldier who was trying to get a second chance at a normal life as a farmer, now has to return to a life of violence to protect the colony. She does so by putting together a supergroup to fend off the Imperium before they return to Veldt. You've grand sets and world-building; there's lore and details. This has all the trappings of an epic; a many-chapter saga. A franchise that can spawn toys and merch; spin-offs even! The sky's the limit.
And with Snyder at the helm, you can expect gorgeous slo-mo action sequences that can make John Woo nod in approval. Like that scene with ex-military Kora first facing off with the Imperium in the farmhouse.
Everything else.
Look, no one goes out to make a bad movie. Snyder had the idea to make Rebel Moon in 1997. That's 27 years of gestation. He had plenty of time to mull over this.
But it's boring. I don't know how a US166 million dollar movie can be boring but there you go. A bulk of the humdrum stems from the characters; I don't care for them. It's a huge cast and because of the number of personalities, you don't get development or much of a backstory. They are extraneous, which is a pity because they all have potential. You've Tarak (Staz Nair), who is a royal-turned-slave. He talks to animals and looks like he has a cool backstory but no, that's never explored. There's Bae Doona's Nemesis, who is a cyborg swordsperson. That's cool, right? But we don't go in-depth about her motivation.
Maybe all of their origins will be covered in the sequel (Rebel Moon – Part Two: The Scargiver coming out on 19 April, 2024) but if I didn't know there was a second instalment, you'd lose me as a viewer on this chapter.
The protagonist Kora has a reasonable amount of history but that's told through clunky exposition. Her stoicism paints her as a reluctant hero but without an emotional anchor, she's just going through the motions. And I, as an audience member, am just going through the motions of waiting until the end credits.
Anthony Hopkins voicing Jimmy, an android of the Mechanicas Miltarium. He's arguably the best character in the film. Despite not having any human features, Jimmy displays more personality than some of the other actors. It's fascinating what a little voice acting and movements can bring to a character.
Rebel Moon – Part One: A Child of Fire is now out on Netflix. Watch out for Rebel Moon – Part Two: The Scargiver coming out on 19 April, 2024 to see if it can redeem itself.
A visually detailed universe of idiosyncrasies, with a human core.
In Barbieland—a world separate from reality and where the actual Barbies and Kens reside—Stereotypical Barbie (the Barbie, played by Margot Robbie) lives a perfect, plastic life that has seemingly no end. Until, she starts questioning her reality and begins deviating from her known, repetitive path. She ventures off into the real world in hopes of “rebooting” and finds out that women don’t rule it, among other things.
Let’s be honest. When a real-action Barbie film was announced, no one was expecting it to be this much of a cultural phenomenon spurring women and men to be decked out in all pink to watch the film. Nor could we have anticipated the first reviews to be anything but overwhelmingly positive. The Barbie movie franchise has always been based on fantasy and idealism typical of any ‘90s Saturday cartoon—regarding it as anything more seemed bonkers.
Yet, Greta Gerwig managed to craft a narrative that goes beyond the plastic veneer of a, well, doll.
But that’s not to say that Barbie is dark or too in touch with reality. In fact, Gerwig leaned into the absurdity of a Barbie utopia. Barbies are always physically on their toes when barefoot (just like the actual dolls), see little need for stairs as they defy gravity by floating down as though placed into position by human hands, shower with imaginary water, drink imaginary liquids, and change clothes (for every occasion) with nary a finger lifted.
Much has been said about the diversity of the extended cast, with naysayers decrying it as part of a woke agenda. Apart from the racial diversity that includes Issa Rae as President Barbie, Alexandra Shipp as Writer Barbie, and Ana Cruz Kayne as Judge Barbie, Barbie portrays other facets of humanity with transgender actress Hari Nef as Dr. Barbie as well as Nicola Coughlan and Sharon Rooney portraying Diplomat Barbie and Lawyer Barbie respectively. There’s even a Barbie in a wheelchair.
What dissenters fail to recognise is that Barbie the doll has always been inclusive. The first Black Barbie debuted in 1980—slightly over a decade after the original Barbie—and a new line of differently sized Barbies were introduced in 2016. And of course, that’s alongside the pretty impressive range of occupations that Barbie has held throughout its 64-year existence.
But back to the story…
The main narrative of Barbie is the Barbie gaining some form of sentience, away from the rest of the Barbies. It's almost like a reverse The Stepford Wives where instead of women being reprogrammed to be submissive robots in a patriarchal community, it's the Barbies who reign all while Kens are side characters that the former care quite little about (when Barbie gets asked where do the Kens stay, she simply says, "I've never thought about it.").
Stepping into the real world causes Barbie to actually experience real human feelings, complete with tears. But most importantly, she finds out that Barbieland's existence did not mean that women in the real world are completely liberated or at the very least, given the same opportunities and treatment as men. Ken too witnesses this and because he constantly feels that his existence is wholly tethered to Barbie, decides to head back to Barbieland and enforce real-world patriarchy. But in the most naive of ways.
The most human element of the film comes in the form of Ruth Handler (played by Rhea Perlman), the co-founder of Mattel and the creator of Barbie. It's not explicitly explained in the film but based on the fact that the film occurs in present-day reality, we can safely assume that it's a spiritual representation of Handler. She guides Barbie in realising that—like the countless other versions of Barbie created after her—there's no predestined ending to her path; Barbie can essentially decide what she wants to be.
If we were to nitpick, there are quite a number of loopholes that aren't exactly explained.
While it Barbieland is aware of the real world, it does seem as though the real world is somewhat aware of the existence of Barbieland too—at least that's what can be gleaned from the rather blasé reactions real-world humans had towards Barbie after she crossed over. The film describes an opening of a rift between the two worlds, but if that were the case, why do the Barbies allude to venturing to the real world as something that happens quite regularly?
The connection between how Barbie dolls are played in the real world and their affect on Barbies in Barbieland too isn't well communicated.
We're introduced to Kate McKinnon's Weird Barbie character that's a manifestation of kids mistreating their Barbies, but does her existence represent the countless number of Barbies constantly made to do the splits or getting their hair butchered? Which also begs the question: Why was Barbie's sudden existential crisis tied to a single person (America Ferrera's character)—are we to believe that no one else in the world were able to project negative thoughts onto Barbie?
There are more of such puzzling inconsistencies but we can always chalk them up to the fantasy nature of the film. Could they have been explained better? Yes.
Robbie and Ryan Gosling are by no means the only A-list faces in the cast. Barbie is quite a star-filled ensemble.
Look out for Dua Lipa as a trio of Mermaid Barbies, John Cena as Merman Ken, Sex Education's Emma Mackey and Connor Swindells as Physicist Barbie and a Mattel intern respectively, as well as Will Ferrell as Mattel's oddball CEO. Oh, there's also Helen Mirren as the film's narrator who cheekily breaks the fourth wall in one scene.
Because the Barbieland universe is incredibly detailed, take note of how everything was perfectly done to actual Barbie-like scale. For example, Barbie is proportionally bigger than her car, and even the items that she uses—hairbrush, carton of milk, etc.—were scaled according to the actual toys.
Finally, there's a scene where Handler shows Barbie what it feels like to be human, and does so through a collage of moments experienced throughout a woman's life. Gerwig called for submissions from the cast and crew of the film for this as a way of adding that personal, human touch. Brilliant.
Barbie is now out in theatres.
