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Sunday, August 30, 2020

Bill & Ted Face the Music (4/5 Stars)

 



More than most other film franchises, Bill & Ted seems to benefit consistently from low expectations and the suspension of disbelief. The premise of the original movie involved two teenage boys from San Dimas California that dream about being rock-stars, call each other dude, and implore the people they meet to “Be Excellent to Each Other.” They are met by Rufus, a time-traveler from the future, (played by George Carlin), who informs them that they have a glorious destiny to unite the world in song but first have to pass a high-school history presentation. To help them in this regard, he lets Bill & Ted use his time machine to round up historical figures to help them pass. The film somehow works. I think it is because, although Bill & Ted know nothing about history, the movie itself is surprisingly literate. Importantly, the movie is also not snobbish about its education. It perceives the historical figures not as lofty great men, but people, and finds fun in what these people would think of the 1980s. It works much like Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” would work like twenty years later. It is enthusiastic about the past but never uses that knowledge as a platform for superiority. It treats history in a most inclusive, accessible, and excellent way. A tip of the hat to the writers of all three movies, Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon. Also, San Dimas High School Football Rules!

Bill & Ted Face the Music keeps intact all of the elements of what made the first Bill & Ted movies work and does just enough to differentiate itself into a new movie. It is a more of a concluding chapter than a breaker of new territory however. There is time travel (like the first movie) and a trip to Hell (like the second movie), but no new surreal concept. What it concerns itself with is the tying up of loose ends. It was foretold in the first movie that Prescott and Logan would write and perform a song that would unite the world. In this movie, we see that destiny fulfilled.

The entanglements of time and heaven/hell travel are given the briefest of surface logic, which is fine for the movie’s purposes. Now middle-aged and so far unsuccessful in uniting the world in song, Bill & Ted are met by the daughter of Rufus (played by Kristen Schaal) who informs them that the world is going to end later that day unless the foretold song is played at a very specific time and place. How specific? Well the movie is about 95 minutes long and Kristen Schall says this at around the fifteen-minute mark, so like in 75 minutes. Classic Bill & Ted movie logic.

But Bill & Ted have not written the song yet. It has been twenty-five years they have been trying to do the same, so how could they do it now by the end of the movie. More Classic Bill & Ted movie logic coming up:

-        Wait, haven’t we been foretold to write this song. That must mean that we are going to do it. We have a time machine, why don’t we just go to the future when we have written the song and take it from ourselves.

-        Excellent idea.

-        Wait, except won’t that be stealing?

-        How is that stealing, when we’re stealing it from ourselves, dude?

But the thing is, it is stealing, and older versions of Bill & Ted don’t like what these younger versions are up to. They excoriate them for being selfish and cutting corners. These are the funniest scenes in the movie with double Alex Winters and Keanu Reeves light-heartedly arguing with each other about time travel ethics.

Meanwhile, Bill & Ted now have two daughters, Billie and Thea, who seem to be the very rare kind of teenagers who believe their parents are to be emulated and impersonated. They want to help and engage in their own most excellent adventure into the past to form a supergroup of all ages. Amongst the greats on their list: Jimi Hendrix, Louis Armstrong, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. They have great taste in music. It is unfortunate though that the artists play their most well-known songs. For Armstrong (played by Jeremiah Craft) that is “When the Saints Go Marching In.” I can think of ten other pieces of music I would have rather heard him play. Still, it is fun to see Satchmo on the screen. Really, the only musician I did not recognize was the most recent, a rapper named Kid Cudi. I have becoming familiar with his oeuvre all morning. Thanks for the tip Bill & Ted.

Like a lot of movies nowadays that derive from source material largely populated by white men, the movie has taken steps to get more people involved, perhaps even with the intention of handing off future installments to the girls Billie and Thea.  A lot of time I find this sort of inclusivity annoying because it seems to reflect not so much a moral imperative as much as a corporate bid to cater to the lowest common denominator in order to increase market share (the real money is in the international box office after all). It is almost axiomatic that most great movies are not inclusive (at least in terms of casting) because they concern specific subject matter and are thus intended for a specific audience. This adherence to particularity is what differentiates those movies from run-of-the-mill films which are designed to eschew controversy/personality in an effort to placate everyone. The usual result is that they resemble something you’ve seen a hundred times before because, spoiler alert, you have.

Here, though I give the inclusivity a pass. Given the personalities of Bill & Ted and the overall tone of the trilogy, uniting the world in song actually does seem to be in line with how the characters would act and where the plot would end up without undue contrivance. It would then make story sense to get everyone involved. The song could have been better, but you know, it is hard to create a transcendent piece of music that involves every musical style in the whole world going backwards and forwards through time. As it is pointed out, the point is not that the song is the best song, but that everyone is playing it, which is a very Bill & Ted argument. They never have been particularly good musicians.

Sunday, August 2, 2020

First Cow (4/5 Stars)





I enjoyed being excited about “First Cow” this year, the newest filmmaker from Kelly Reichardt. It is a story about the first cow in Oregon in the 1920s and a odd couple of men, a cook named Cookie, played by John Magaro, and a Chinaman named King-Lu, played by Orion Lee, who conspire to steal its milk and use to it to sell pastries. As there are no other cows, they will have the best tasting pastries in the territory. A boon!

What a dumb idea for a movie and I enjoyed telling people I was anticipating “First Cow” because the plot seemed so enjoyably stupid. But that was only half of it. I enjoyed getting excited by “First Cow” because Kelly Reichardt had directed it and written it with her long-time collaborator Jonathan Raymond. There previous collaborations include: “Old Joy”, “Wendy and Lucy”, “Meek’s Cutoff”, and “Night Moves”. So even though it looked and sounded stupid, I knew it was going to be good. And “First Cow” is very good. One of Reichardt’s best. And I would know because I have now seen every movie she has made, even her obscure student film “River of Grass.”

When I last wrote a review for a movie of hers “Night Moves” in June 2014, I spent half the time trying to explain why I to liked Reichardt’s style. I will add to that here by saying that she is from a very specific place that filmmakers usually do not make films about. The location is Oregon. In addition, she sometimes makes films that are period pieces. And where else can you see a movie that takes place in Oregon in the 1820s.

That is when “First Cow” takes place, mainly in a trading village comprised of Native Americans, English trappers, but also the travelling Russians and Chinese. The only real house around belongs to the richest man in town, played by Toby Jones. He also brought with him to the territory the title cow.

Cookie is an unappreciated cook by his rougher compatriots. He saves the life of King-Lu one day in the woods when he hides him from vengeful Russians. They strike a tender and gentle friendship that is really nice to witness. John Magaro’s performance is especially nice. When King-Lu first invites him into his shack and asks him to take it easy before dinner, Cookie’s first instinct is to start sweeping the floor. Then he goes outside and picks flowers for the table. (I think this movie would make a hilarious double feature with “The Revenant”. They exist in the same time period (1820s) and general location (American West) but could not be more different in content and tone.)

King-Lu is ambitious. His last scheme left him flat broke, but he has not given up. King-Lu is excited by the possibilities of being the first people in a new territory. “History isn’t here yet. It’s coming, but maybe this time, we can take it on our own terms.” But how to start? Perhaps a crime, surmises King-Lu anticipating Balzac’s famous saying.

The crime is to sneak into the field of the rich man and surreptitiously milk his cow. Through this little tale, Reichardt seems to make lots of statements about history, capitalism, opportunity, and class, but true to form, she does not come close to hitting you over the head with it. One can simply watch “First Cow” in a state of zen, letting the music gently wash over you, and taking comfort in calm acting and simple storytelling. In jazz, they say it is the notes you don’t play that make all the difference. The same can be said about a Reichardt film.