A Complete Unknown

This is what I expected. I enter a Dylan biopic more as a critic than an audience member. I figured I'd already know most of the content of the movie, and would just be in it out of curiosity for how they executed, and with any luck, for some profound experience. It ended up just being curiosity. The experience was tame; again, I already know all of these songs and all of these stories far too well. You'd need an artistically adventurous take on Dylan. This was not; this was sheer biopic. So all I have to offer is criticism.

They executed well. It feels pretty faithful, if Hollywoodized at times. It all starts with Dylan himself: Chalamet. I didn't expect to like him in Dune and I really did. Here again I dig him. I got over his voice acting that turned me off the trailer. Got over it quickly. His vocal performance is all in all fairly accurate. Certainly distinguishable, but of a similar character. Sometimes he sings worse than Dylan, other times better. I know the songs well enough to see where he strays. Sometimes he enunciates a word I never understood in the original; other times he obscures a word that deserves more presentation. Overall the character of his voice is close enough. The rest of his performance, besides the voice, conveys Dylan's contrary and aloof natures. He's a pain in the ass. His sentimentality falters when it really matters. He's hopelessly romantic -- hopeless because his ego can't abide anyone else's priorities. Even if he wasn't so musically inspired during this time period, his personality wouldn't accommodate the compromises of enduring romance. It's tragic because he sounds like such a sweetheart in the songs, and the songs suggest he wants to be one (see Blood on the Tracks).

I feel sorry for Suze, though you always wonder how much to blame the clingy one for letting themselves cling. Even if Bob is a jerk, there's still room to blame Suze for falling back into him over and over. Then if you blame Suze for that, you respect her dilemma as she finds the inspiration of her life (perhaps?) in this difficult figure.

Speaking of ambiguous blame, I don't blame Pete Seeger for lamenting Bob's electrification, nor do I blame Bob for electrifying, though both could have been more graceful. Bob has every right to pursue his artistic whims, even if you think H61 is morally and artistically inferior to the protest songs. The folk scene has every right to lament, even if they over-moralize what's really just a confused wunderkind. I don't really buy his folk prophet persona, so when he abandons it, I'm not surprised. He was talented at shapeshifting, which doesn't mean each shape was inauthentic, yet suggests no shape was the whole story as the media likes to compartmentalize. He explicitly and implicitly refuses to be boxed in, because he's a shapeshifter, and that's hard for people to accept. It would be especially hard in 1963, before you know he's a shapeshifter. You just think he's entirely yours. It would be devastating to watch him shift, even if you like rock & roll. It would feel like you were losing a loved one, such was the extent of his identity swings.

The experience was tame for someone who knows the material so well, yet they did it well. It's a legit biopic. They didn't have to resort to abstractions like I'm Not There (though their scope was smaller). It's a real Dylan biopic! The first? It's not easy to do, but they did a good job. Chalamet certainly helped. I'm surprised he bothered himself with this role, auspicious as he is these days. I'm surprised random people seem to like this movie. I guess it's more for them than me, somehow. I don't know why people would care. I'm so used to being the only person around me who cares about Bob Dylan. I don't understand other people's relationships with him, mine feels so ancient and elemental. Of course there's so much I don't know about Bob. He's just been around so long, and been so prolific, it's hard to know him entirely. But I do feel like I'm in the top 1% of the population in terms of Dylan fandom. So it's hard to imagine this movie seeing mainstream success. Yet somehow it's not for me, it's for the 99%. Some of them may join the 1% because of it. Then it's not 1% anymore, is it.

It's a pretty basic biopic, though its deeply original protagonist propels it beyond others. I wish they would have done something more adventurous. It just tells the story. But the fact that it didn't offend me is pretty impressive. It's easy to offend me on these matters.

Edit: People asked what made me cringe in a biopic about a figure I know and love; I didn't have a good answer, but here it is now: the audience whooping and singing along during his acoustic performances. I've never seen such a thing in the videos; in fact, he's been characterized by his attentive audiences. They don't scream through the song, they listen closely to the words. They're mesmerized. They aren't shouting "for the times they are a changin" at each refrain.

    Also, some accurate things are too extreme, like the response at '65 Newport.

Wicked

Elphaba: she was great. When her character was strong, she was strong. When her character hurt, she showed it. It's her character's weakness that didn't come across so well. When her character was desperate, or giddy, the depth evaporated too quickly. Maybe that's just the nature of people her age. Maybe my maturity standards are too high in this coming-of-age story, and I just want a stronger character than this movie should allow. But it felt a little incongruous.

    I'd say the same for her singing. This is an interesting actress, flipping between strength/maturity and desperation/youth in her personality and her singing voice. I can't quite pin her down, not exactly in a good way, but not too bad either. She had moments of powerful black alto, while much of the time she sounded like Sara Bareilles. I was impressed how she flipped back and forth, hitting notes in one voice not suited for the other, or delivering lines in the correct tone. Her versatility in song was just slightly uncanny.

Glinda: other than a few moments when her voice was too soft to enunciate through a choir (this was rough in the first scene with the munchkins; not sure if I should blame the mixers), and other than the fact that they basically had to whiteface her, Ariana was a good match for this role. Though I don't always love her tone, she's obviously top-shelf as a technical singer. It's her comic chops I didn't expect. I forgot she was a child actor. So she can sing, she can act, and she seems easy to get along with. I guess she's one of those hyper-talented yet realistic people that people would envy.

    Though I despise some of her songwriting, I'm going to go ahead and go ahead and having had said sit there and say that I like Ariana Grande. As the as-said, however, I'm not yet sure how I feel about Glinda. She's juuuust turning around... big Jaime Lannister vibes. An utter tool for so long, and still cocky, and with a heart potentially in the wrong place, it's hard to fully come around on them. Jaime finally humbles, and then more finally, goes home to meet his maker. Glinda had such a brief foray into authentic goodness, it's hard to know how authentic. I love them as best friends, though that friendship seems so overshadowed by the "loathing" and by Glinda apparently abandoning Elphaba at the end?? I didn't understand that at all. Glinda for some reason didn't want Elphaba to go. Why? Obviously Elphaba didn't belong there. Then for a moment it seemed they were approaching the ledge together. Then Glinda stayed back. She supported Elphaba's journey, with a cape and a smile, but she stayed back. And Elphaba was not offended. I don't understand that dynamic. It seems that Glinda ultimately does not support Elphaba's leap, and by not supporting it, she doesn't empathize with Elphaba to any depth. That's a big blow to their friendship, and it's strange they parted so lovingly. I don't understand how much Glinda will continue supporting Elphaba. She embraces the Madame at the end. She obviously becomes the "good" foil to Elphaba's "wicked." She rejoices Elphaba's death. I have a theory on that, but I don't understand the immediate dynamic.

Here's my theory on that. Remember when Snape avadakedavra'd Dumbledore, but later we saw the backstory and we loved him for it? What if Elphaba wants Glinda to publicly celebrate her death, out of the same deception that inspired Snape to avadakedavra Dumbledore and Jon Snow to kill his sworn brother? Deception of the enemy. What a moment if GoT wouldn't have explained Jon killing his brother until after the fact. What a moment when we renew faith in our beloved character, when all is vindicated. What a narrative device! In Harry Potter, it melted millions of plastic minds. That generation is intellectually and emotionally founded on the knowledge that Snape was deceiving the dark lord the whole time. That's why they don't trust a single body. Most of those characters turned good or ill; few turned not.

    I wonder if Glinda is deceiving the audience and deceiving the spiteful public by denigrating the wicked witch at said witch's own request. Maybe Elphaba thinks Oz needs Glinda, and they'd never follow her if she allied with Elphaba. That's a sad fact. It's hard to imagine that's the right thing -- for Glinda to malign a good witch to appease a public she should scorn entirely. Maybe there's something deep about how Oz is worth saving even if it can't accept Elphaba. Sounds like Gotham.

    Maybe Elphaba isn't dead, then. Maybe she and Glinda are forever friends, though only in secret, if they ever see each other. Oz can't accept Elphaba, yet Oz is worth saving, so the only solution is to fake Elphaba's death and pretend Glinda helped kill her.

    OR maybe Elphaba actually goes wicked, and Glinda is a right tool. I just doubt this. The beginning of the movie would be so grotesque, actually regardless whether Elphaba went wicked. Even if she went wicked, I don't think that's how they'd paint Glinda. I don't think that's how a good Glinda would act. And I doubt the story abandons both Elphaba's and Glinda's goodness. I think it's more likely it saves both. It would be so astonishing if Elphaba actually went wicked, in anything other than public image. I don't remember enough about The Wizard of Oz to guess whether Elphaba truly goes wicked or whether her wickedness in that movie could be feigned for some obscure higher purpose (Gotham needs a hero, and it must be Glinda, so Elphaba must play the villain). But that only works if her actions in Wizard are not inevitably wicked.

Wicked did a decent job of pandering mainstream humor without sounding absolutely stupid. It bested the new Lion King, probably Barbie, and so many other mainstream movies lately. I hate where comic relief is going in pop movies. It interrupts the action at length for bad jokes. Bad jokes have to be quick. You can't backburner your whole movie for them. Wicked had a few like that, but it wasn't so indulgent, and it had a bunch of decent jokes to offset. Ariana's comic timing helped. She only really indulged the bits where the whole humor was in the indulgence, like fluffing her hair too long. Mostly she was quick. Some people are too quick. I hate that. They mutter a witticism too quickly and quietly and expect everyone to laugh. If you're going to do that, you can't expect people to laugh, you have to just say it for its own sake. Justify the joke in and of itself.

Wicked flew by. When it ended, I thought maybe it was just intermission. It was continuously entertaining. 

I truly have no idea what happens in Part II. Everything I knew about Wicked already happened: Popular, Defying Gravity, meeting the wizard... All I have are guesses. Which is exciting. Unfortunately it'll be long enough till Part II that I'll forget a lot of the details, as well as my emotions for Part I, and I won't want to spend another ~3 hours rewatching Part I, so I'll consider skipping Part II, like I skipped Folie a Deux, after being pretty excited for it.

Wicked wasn't phenomenal; it was successful. I'm not the target audience to connect with Elphaba anyway. The music is pretty good too. It's like Les Mis and West Side Story -- a sort of sophisticated version of pop.

Top vocal performances

Astral Weeks

Bob. I love his Rolling Thunder voice. Also Desire, New Morning, 1963-65

Sia, esp the piano album

That girl in Bridge Over Troubled Water w Collier

Bloody Motherfucking Asshole

Love SZA as a singer

Natasha and Shania

Not top:

Nahko: I love his voice but not always what he does with it

Bon Iver

So much Bob

Gladiator II

I hoped it would be more than an updated-tech Gladiator. Alas it suffered from exactly the same anemia of character. Somehow these two stories don't feel at all like stories but like events. I should care about these characters, but first they'd have to be characters.

Paul Mescal is an interesting choice, in that I'd never heard of him and he isn't glamorous. I guess that matches Russel Crowe, who was also an interesting choice for the latter reason. Mescal was fine, for a role he didn't quite fit and a role that wasn't really a character. He doesn't naturally elicit admiration. He's a modest tough/soft man, not a magnetic leader.

Denzel overacted again. His eccentric phrasing and facial expressions were distracting. That's what you get with most actors once they're canonized. Rotten Tomatoes called him "scene-stealing", which is too true.

Certainly some of the movie was exciting, though in similar portion it was embarrassing. Some of the dialogue and acting were tough, and I'd say the same for the general artistic direction, which isn't usually something I criticize or even distinguish beyond the writing, acting, music, etc. But here I noticed some bad directorial choices. I thought he would have learned something in the past 20 years. And he's a renowned director, right?

The best part was the intro. Some of the violence was good. Everything else was artistically limp at best, childish at worst.

I feel embarrassed on the Hound's behalf. He was so tough and independent in GoT. Here he's subservient and not-burned. He roots for Rome rather than serving himself.

Denzel has all choice of roles, so I'm not embarrassed for him, I just lose a little respect for him.

Am I not entertained: 2.75/4

Movie itself: 1.75/4

Anthony Jeselnik: Bones and All

He hasn't changed much in 15 years. That's okay, I still like him, though it means his jokes have to be really good, for his continued standup to be worthwhile, since they aren't reinventing anything anymore. All of his jokes are good, but most are not good enough to make this special as exciting as when one first encountered him years ago. I laughed maybe twice, though still enjoyed the show in general. He's intelligent enough to consider reinventing himself, innovating the craft. But for now, he's still coasting on his old persona.

Game of Thrones

Ned's head

The red wed

Shireen's dead

Sansa and Ramsay's bed

Apathy

I don't love stuff where everyone is apathetic. Badlands, Breathless, and On the Road ring a bell, if I'm remembering right. Also some literature you'd consider the foundations of existentialism. Apathy in these contexts is billed as profound. Apathetic existentialism never came off to me as the profound existentialism. In my Existentialism Through Literature and Film course I remember thinking "why are we watching Razor's Edge instead of Synecdoche or Interstellar?" Synecdoche and Interstellar are emotionally over-the-top... I'm not saying that's the essence of their existentialism... but their emotional landscape inspired me to act out against the void, where the other pieces I mentioned left me feeling hopeless against it.

NFL

Christian McCaffrey is the only white running back I can think of. He's an inspiration to white aspiring running backs everywhere, proving they can take the last remaining thing black people could feel like was theirs: the running back position.

I'd like to write my thoughts on the conflict between "let them play" and how injuries threaten the joy of football.

Do they threaten the joy of football because they're just a downer? No, it's because franchise players vanish too quickly, meaning a team's fortune turns too quickly. While surprises and pivots are necessary facts of life, the NFL has a choice how much to let them creep in. There's a basic level you'll never avoid, but there are further levels you can prohibit if you change the rules and change the culture. It would be hard, but I would imagine it's possible.

You'd be removing the grisly nature of the sport. That nature probably can't coexist with rigorous injury prevention. So which fans should we accommodate: the fans who love the old-school brutality, or the fans who get invested in players? I dislike the obsession with players nowadays, partly because they come and go so fast, by injury or trade or culture cancellation. Yet a single player can change the fortune of a team, so intelligently rooting for the Packers means hoping for star draft picks, trying to get the ball to your playmakers, and monitoring player development from season to season. Obsession with individual players is a natural outgrowth of team fandom in a sport where one player can make a difference. Basketball is such a sport. I kind of wish football wasn't. So is that the solution? Find some way to devalue the player relative to the team? Then losing a player to injury, in a brutal sport, wouldn't shatter every hope for the team. Football would be more like old-fashioned war, where fate is determined by strategy and spirit (assuming equal numbers on either side) and by the average skill of each man, not by the presence of one or two ubermenschen. I reckon lots of war fiction is unrealistic in that way -- the Iliad is seen as a battle between Achilles and Hector, determined by their relative skill... Aragorn wielding the sword can single-handedly turn a battle... same with Jaime Lannister. In reality, I bet armies live and die by the average skill of a constituent, by their strategy, and by their spirit. The more I think about this, the more I wish football worked that way. Football is nothing like war anymore (if it ever was). It's far too glamorous for the individual ego. If there was a way to make football less dependent on individual players, I wouldn't care so much about individual players, meaning injuries, trades, retirement, and controversy wouldn't be so damned depressing and jarring. It would be a drop in the bucket, the bucket being a team guided by coaching and culture. The coach and staff would elevate in this paradigm; the star player would dim. I think that'd be great.