I make a habit of avoiding
movie theaters. Among other
more important reasons, I
really don’t enjoy other people
telling me how and when to
react.
Misplaced
laughter
and
overzealous
reactions
ruin
a
movie
experience
for me, almost as must as
cliches
and
far-fetched
storylines. The experience of
watching “Uncle Frank” was
an unfortunate mix of all of
these.
“Uncle Frank” is the type
of movie that is sure to bring
in crowds. It boasts big-name
director Alan Ball (“True
Blood”) and main lead Paul
Bettany, pulled straight from
the
Marvel
Cinematic
Universe.
Even the plot
is enticing: a
closeted
gay
NYU professor
from the South
must confront
his past and his
identity when
he
and
his
niece at NYU
take a roadtrip
back home for
his
father’s
funeral.
At
face value the
film promises to be touching,
riveting
and
profound.
Instead, it is disappointing.
For
a
movie
featuring
heavy topics such as suicide
and sexuality in the ’70s,
“Uncle Frank” barely lets
a poignant moment go by
without
punctuating
the
suspense with a laugh. Most
of this humor comes from
Peter Macdissi (“Six Feet
Under”), who nails his role
as Wally, Frank’s partner
of 10 years. But Macdissi’s
impressive
performance
could not compensate for the
poorly-written character he
had to portray, and I was left
begging him to please take
something seriously.
Actully, the entire cast gave
a magnificent performance
that the film’s plot does not
do justice to. Bettany plays
Frank
with
a restrained
ferocity that
conveys
a
million
thoughts
with the flick
of a cigarette.
And
his
wide-eyed
niece
Beth
(Sophia
Lillis,
“It”)
is a breath of
fresh air on
this road trip
to
rebirth.
But, without
giving too much away, this
film asks us to believe things
that are pretty hard to accept,
all in the name of tying up the
story in a pretty, feel-good
bow.
Still, I have no doubt that
“Uncle Frank” will be a box
office hit. Its biggest flaw
is also its biggest draw to
the public — it’s a movie you
feel like you’ve seen before.
Though there are some twists
and shocking scenes, you can
count down the minutes to
exactly when you’re supposed
to cry next, and be assured
that a laugh is just around the
corner.
“Uncle Frank” has a lot
to say, I just wish it had the
courage to say it. Though they
explode in the occasional
outburst, the real, crushing
emotions of “Uncle Frank”
are kept at bay, with nearly
every disagreement ending
with a “hey you know what?
It’s okay.” In the world of
“Uncle Frank”’, disapproval
consists of whispers around
the corner and fights that are
resolved with a mere hug. It
would be quite a nice world to
live in, but it isn’t the truth.
‘Uncle Frank’
fails to take even
itself seriously
SAM DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
SUNDANCE SPECIAL EDITION
We all know technology is
going to be the end of us. We live
in an age in which we all ignore
the fact that TikTok is a vehicle
for the Chinese government to
collect our information, while
covering
a
laptop’s
camera
with a band-aid is becoming an
increasingly popular practice.
But does any of this paranoia
mean that we’re going to stop
using our technology altogether?
Will the flip phone make a
comeback in 2020? Doubtful. And
even as it becomes increasingly
clear that technology is an
integral
part
of
our
lives
whether we like it or not, Olivia
Wilde’s (“Booksmart”) newest
short, “Wake Up,” follows an
unnamed woman in a world
“where people are more engaged
with screens and devices than
with each other,” according to
a
press
email
from
Wilde’s
publicist.
Despite
its
visual
appeal,
“Wake Up” does
nothing for the
conversation
it
attempts
to
create.
The
short
film,
as
posited by the
filmmakers
at
the
premiere,
is
meant
to
encourage
a
balance between
humans
and
technology that is supposedly
missing from this day and age. In
this regard, the Sundance event
was
supposedly
“phone-free”
and, hypothetically, everyone
would have their phones in a
locked case that would only be
opened when leaving the event.
But despite the coordinators’
best efforts, phones were still out
and documenting the premiere
of a film meant to discourage
that exact behavior.
The 10 and a half minute film
failed to realize its audience and
reach — the general public won’t
see “Wake Up” at the Sundance
Film
Festival,
with
Olivia
Wilde there to explain what it’s
supposed to be telling you. No,
the short is going to be consumed
on Twitter, passed around by the
very thing it claims to denounce,
with the sole message that we’re
going to end up bleeding on the
ground if we don’t “wake up.”
Without the introduction by the
director or the ruminations of
a panel following the film, this
nuance is lost. It isn’t a spoiler
for me to tell you that Margaret
Qualley’s (“Once Upon a Time
in Hollywood”) character ends
up in the hospital for her
phone addiction because that’s
how every single story about
“disconnecting” goes. And this
might hit hard for a minute,
but then whoever is scrolling is
going to keep scrolling with only
a vague feeling
that maybe they
should
get
off
their phone.
As an avid fan
of “Booksmart,” I
was disappointed
to
see
such
a
contrite
idea
come
from
Wilde. There was
nothing new to
this concept — we
all know we spend
too
much
time
on our phones,
but if you’re not
willing
to
toss
out the iPhone for a Motorola
Razor or get rid of your phone
altogether,
the
conversation
“Wake Up” tries to spark is all
but over. Eventually, though,
it became clear in the post-
film fireside chat that this idea
didn’t come from Wilde herself.
Instead, the concept itself came
from HP, a fact that restored
my faith in Wilde’s ability as a
director.
And so, none of this is to say
that Wilde and Qualley didn’t
do a good job with what they
had — it’s just that what they
had was a cliché, irrelevant
corporate message from HP. The
fireside chat further revealed
the questionable nature of this
short film. It could be argued
that HP is doing a good thing in
supporting the arts, in trying to
“start” a conversation around
our technology use. But when
the director of the film asks
us to consider who exactly is
controlling
what
technology
we use, after producing a film
commissioned by those same
people, the irony is clear. Those
in power don’t even know they
hold the power or, if they do,
they’re desperately trying to
convince us otherwise.
The description of Eliza
Hittman’s
follow-up
to
2017’s
“Beach
Rats”
is
fairly simple: A teenage girl
from
rural
Pennsylvania
travels to New York City to
get an abortion. The film
mirrors
its
descriptor’s
straightforwardness — there
is little dialogue, and nearly
all of the scenes take place
in a fluorescent-lit doctor’s
office,
on
sickly
public
transportation or the rainy
streets of New York City.
But in its simplicity is where
the film is most captivating,
seizing the emotion of the
occasion so perfectly you feel
the protagonist’s desperation
in
every
footstep.
Autumn
(Sidney
Flanigan)
is
a
reserved,
unassuming
17-year-old
girl
who
we first see
performing
a
folksy
rendition
of
The Exciters
“He’s Got The
Power” with
silver glitter
painted
heavily onto her sad eyelids.
In the midst of lyrics like “He
makes me do things I don’t
want to do, he makes me say
things I don’t want to say,”
Autumn is interrupted by a
boy yelling “slut!” Though
she falters for a second,
she continues, showing us
more about our protagonist
than if she had said a single
word. After a post-concert
dinner with her supportive
mother and sister and not-
so-supportive father, Autumn
runs home, and the camera
pans down to the growing
bump on her abdomen.
When it becomes clear that
the parental consent laws
of rural Pennsylvania won’t
allow for Autumn to get an
abortion, she and her cousin/
best
friend
Skylar
(Talia
Ryder) pocket some money
from their pervy grocery-
store boss and head to New
York City. It quickly becomes
apparent
that
even
in
a
pro-choice city, getting an
abortion is incredibly difficult
and expensive, and the girls
are left in NYC with no money
for food or shelter, with men
preying
on
them
around
every corner.
In
a
year
when abortion
rights
are
under attack,
“Never
Rarely”
captures
the
crushing
isolation
and
trauma
of
the
process
poignantly.
Though it is
technically an
“issue” film, it
doesn’t feel like a PSA, though
you may feel obliged to donate
to Planned Parenthood after
watching it.
The most remarkable scene
involves the titular phrase
being used in Autumn’s pre-
procedure
interview.
The
counselor asks a series of
questions
about
Autumn’s
relationships
and
sexual
history, requesting that she
answer either never, rarely,
sometimes, always. Though
Autumn obliges at first, the
biggest
revelations
come
from the questions she leaves
unanswered,
demonstrating
a brilliance in filmmaking
where the most important
moments are disclosed in
silence.
Between
the
beautifully
comfortable
relationship
between Autumn and Skylar
and the suppressed agony that
both girls are experiencing,
“Never Rarely” is a film that
makes a powerful call to
action with very few words
at all. It is overwhelming
and ravishing, leaning on the
talents of two young breakout
stars to tell a story that is
yearning to be heard.
SAM DELLA FERA
Daily Arts Writer
EMMA CHANG
Daily Arts Writer
HP’s ‘Wake Up’
is one giant yawn
‘Never Rarely’ is
a moving look at
teen pregnancy
I’ve been thinking about dating a lot recently. In theory, the point
of dating is to find the person with whom you’re eventually going
to spend the rest of your life. In practice, though, dating seems,
especially in college, more about conquests and gaining experience
than finding a lifelong partner. This isn’t an issue, but it does make
me wonder how our relationships change as we get older. “Shirley”
takes this question and creates a thrilling film in which two couples
spiral into each other, pushing themselves in and out of reality.
“Shirley” is rooted in comparisons that strategically reveal the
flaws of the two relationships. The young Fred (Logan Lerman,
“Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief”) and Rose (Odessa Young,
“The Professor”) are bright-eyed newlyweds who have yet to
experience the emotional rollercoaster of a long-term relationship.
Rose has a naïve, blind trust in Fred, the kind of trust we all want to
have in a relationship and the trust that’s missing in Stanley (Michael
Stuhlbarg, “Call Me By Your Name”) and Shirley’s (Elisabeth Moss,
“The Kitchen”) relationship. It’s this initial difference in timeline
that sets the two couples up for the dramatic flair of the film — when
Fred and Rose move in with Stanley and Shirley, the established
habits of the older couple have a strong influence on the budding
marriage and we watch as Fred and Rose slowly fall out of sync, only
to see Rose grow closer and closer to Shirley.
And as Rose and Shirley’s relationship develops, it becomes clear
that neither of their husbands are capable of bringing out the best
in either character. Shirley is tethered to a cheating and sexist
professor, a man who can’t stand the fact that his wife is smarter
than him. Rose, on the other hand, has yet to find her voice. She is
mousey and barely even secure in her role as Fred’s wife. Neither
woman fully reaches their potential until they meet the other. As
“Shirley” unfolds we watch Rose grow into a powerful woman, and
eventually mother, and leave behind her insecurities as a “little
wifey.” The film creates an atmosphere ripe with feminism without
ever raising a picket sign.
To watch these couples dance around each other is like seeing
two very strange courtships — Fred and Stanley perform with
the awkward gaits of two males unwilling to bow to the other.
In contrast, Shirley and Rose create a symbiotic relationship —
Shirley’s eccentricity brings Rose’s confidence to the surface while
Rose’s burgeoning self-discovery motivates Shirley to return to her
work; neither of which would have ever been accomplished in their
relationship with their respective husbands.
“Shirley” is a strange film. Jump cuts and shaky camera work
often made it hard to follow, but the film creates rich, emotionally
driven scenes that explore the parallels of relationships in a way
that is often muddled in other pieces. As “Shirley” comes to a close,
it’s obvious that what we watched was
not just two couples living together,
but the origin story of how Stanley
and Shirley’s relationship came to
be. These are no longer coincidental
parallels in their relationship, but
intentional patterns that occur in
committed partnerships.
This film answered one of my
burning life questions: what is it like
to be married to Logan Lerman, our
resident white boy of the decade?
Disappointing, to say the least. But
after “Shirley” I realized we’ve been
dreaming about the wrong person;
Elisabeth Moss takes the life of a
suburban wife, working from home,
and makes it an adventure. A scary
one, but an adventure nonetheless.
It’s this reevaluation of our long-
held expectations, both about Logan
Lerman and marriage, that make
“Shirley” such an impactful film.
Elizabeth Moss and Odessa Young shine in ‘Shirley’
EMMA CHANG
Daily Arts Writer
“Uncle Frank”
Dir. Alan Ball
January 25, 2020
Sundance Film Festival
“Never Rarely
Sometimes
Always”
Dir. Eliza Hittman
March 13, 2020
Sundance Film Festival
“Wake Up”
Dir. Olivia Wilde
January 24, 2020
Sundance Film Festival
It doesn’t feel like
a PSA, though
you may feel
obliged to donate
to Planned
Parenthood after
watching it
Despite its
visual appeal,
“Wake Up” does
nothing for the
conversation it
attempts to create
“Shirley”
Dir. Josephine Decker
January 25, 2020
Sundance Film Festival
“Uncle Frank”
has a lot to say, I
just wish it had
the courage to say
it
“Uncle Frank” is
the type of movie
that is sure to
bring in crowds
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Friday, January 31, 2020 — 5