Category Archives: Meta

Movie Review: Seven Psychopaths

This is one of my favorite movie stills of all time.

“Seven Psychopaths” is one of those film in which its title is also the title of the screenplay a character is writing in the film. However, it’s not one of those films that just ends with the final scene being typed out, so we can take comfort in knowing that everything that just happened was only in some writer’s head.

“Seven Psychopaths” is an insane deconstruction of action movies that I loved every minute of. Perhaps Hollywood has reached a tipping point when it comes to telling crime tales, and “Seven Psychopaths” is exactly what it needed to put it back in line. Meta films walk a very tight rope, and “Seven Psychopaths” manages to consistently stay in line.


I have never understood why films about screenwriters have gotten such a bad reputation. Thanks to the weird minds of screenwriters created by the weird minds of screenwriters, we’ve gotten “Sunset Boulevard,” “Barton Fink,” and “Being John Malkovich.” I have a feeling that “Seven Psychopaths” was written when Martin McDonagh was going through writer’s block. Marty Faranan (Colin Farrell) hasn’t gotten past the title for his latest script, “Seven Psychopaths.” Marty is a drunk, which is in his heritage, as others tend to frequently remind him. He is also in a bad relationship with a controlling girlfriend (Abbie Cornish). He wants his script to be about seven different psychopaths. However, he’s having trouble finding his psychos.

“Seven Psychopaths” was made for both film buffs and crime news fanatics. Marty’s best friend happens to be a dognapper named Billy (Sam Rockwell). He wants to help Marty write his script, so he puts out an ad seeking out every psychopath in Los Angeles with a great story. Billy is always eating junk food and he may be completely insane. I always knew Rockwell was a great actor, but I never realized he could be this funny. His performance is filled with twitchiness and manic energy that makes it impossible to know what he could do next. If for some reason another film about Hunter S. Thompson were to be made (I’m hoping for a version of “Rum Diary” that’s actually good), I would cast Rockwell above all others to play Thompson.

Christopher Walken, in his best role in years, plays Hans, the eccentric boss of the dognapping empire. While he can kill it in small roles (“Pulp Fiction,” “Annie Hall”) he is capable of emotional range that goes much further than “creepy guy with a raspy voice.” His character is that archetypal old criminal who seems too nice to ever shoot. He’s also raising money for the same reason many other film criminals have: his wife has cancer. Why he thinks dognapping is the best way to pay for his wife’s treatment is beyond me, but I don’t think the reasons are all that important.

“Seven Psychopaths” commits so many felonies against good screenwriting. Yet, it breaks all of the rules with such confidence and self-awareness that it just can’t be held against McDonagh. Now, I’m not saying that self-awareness is an excuse for bad writing. However, they come across much better when they are done intentionally. “Seven Psychopaths” knows that the kind of story it wants to tell has been done so many times before, so it might as well try to present it in a new way.

“Seven Psychopaths” introduces characters and subplots, and then gets rid of them whenever it damn well pleases. Breaking screenwriting rules is actually beneficial here: it adds a dangerous, unstable element to the whole story. It’s a screenwriter projecting his own mind through the eyes of another screenwriter, and neither have any idea where their own stories can take them. And that is a beautiful thing about writing a film: when you have absolutely no idea where the story you are inventing is going to end.

Despite the unpredictability, McDonagh seemed to have a good plan for where to end this film in the same way that “In Bruges” tied everything together so perfectly in the end. “Seven Psychopaths” is a huge ensemble, and it makes a mobster played by Woody Harrelson, a serial killer who kills mobsters, and an adorable Shih Tzu all come together. I am not trying to start a fight here, but I will take that Shih Tzu over Uggie any day of the week.

I see “Seven Psychopaths” as being about the purpose of violence in movies. Sometimes, it has to exist just punish people who had it coming. At one point, Billy suggests they all just go out into the desert and forget about everything that happened. That doesn’t work for long, and not only because Billy is an idiot. Perhaps the reason that heist films end in a shootout is because that’s the only natural course for a criminal to go on. No matter how hard you try, cliches can never be completely avoided. But if you present them in the right way, they can show why movies are such an exhilarating experience.

A friend of mine made a very accurate remark about Martin McDonagh, in that he is the only auteur bred during a generation of Tarantino ripoffs that can ripoff Tarantino correctly. That may be partly because McDonagh got his training in theater, so he knows how to write the long scenes of dialogue that mark a Tarantino film. Not only that, but he also gives the characters funny and insightful things to say. We don’t mind if the story is delayed for a bit, because what the characters are saying is so good to listen to. If a film has good dialogue, that means it can be listened to without the accompanying images and still be just as good.

As someone who is currently writing a script, “Seven Psychopaths” spoke to me on a very high level by nailing a writer’s journey. Whenever it looks like we’re just sitting there doing nothing, there is actually about a thousand ideas forming in our heads, looking for ways to become a whole. “Seven Psychopaths” is filled with little mini stories that are just as good as the main story. Some of the mini stories are made up and told within a story that is also made up. “Seven Psychopaths” is a movie about how life doesn’t turn out like it does in the movie. Try not to let your head explode before you can actually go see it for yourself.

Yes, that is Tom Waits and a bunny rabbit.

Movie Review: Ruby Sparks

“Ruby Sparks” begins with the most terrifying moment in any writer’s life: the moment of staring down a blank page. It is also an exciting moment, because a story is about to be born. But, it is more terrifying because now you have to think of ideas, and a lot of them will end up being terrifying.

If this quirky (that’s a very good word to use here) film does anything right, it is capturing what it feels like to create a unique character, and then have the character and story engulf your own life, and become a part of it.


Once you write someone out on a piece of paper, it’s hard to erase them. That’s what Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano) will find out as he crafts his dream woman. Calvin is a novelist who peaks early and has trouble replicating his earlier success. He also has a troubled love life. As in, he doesn’t have one. Calvin’s brother Harry (Chris Messina), who’d have been put to much better use if he served a purpose other than exposition, is there to constantly remind him that he could have a good relationship if he just went to the gym more often.

But Calvin’s only company is a small dog he bought to make friends. With great responsibility comes great irony, and the timid dog runs away whenever people try to pet it. In his loneliness, Cal keeps dreaming up a woman. Ruby Sparks (Zoe Kazan), a red head with personality, inexplicably pops out of his dreams and into reality.

“Ruby Sparks” rightfully follows the Woody Allen principle, in that it doesn’t try to explain why something so crazy happened. All that matters is how people reacted to it. Imagine if they spent all of “The Purple Rose of Cairo” explaining how someone could leap out of a screen at a movie theater. Likewise, imagine if they spent all of “Ruby Sparks” trying to explain how Ruby came to life. An event like that almost defies all explanation. Luckily, we get none. Unfortunately, Calvin does have to spend a lot of time convincing people that Ruby came from his imagination. Understandable, I guess.

“Ruby Sparks” is a fantasy in every sense of the word. Not just because an imaginary person cannot simply come to life, but it is every male writer’s desire to write a plausible female character. But there is a catch to the creation of Ruby. Calvin must write down everything Ruby does, and every emotion that she feels. That might sound like every man’s dream, but it also means that one wrong word can send Ruby into a tailspin. That also happens to be another way that the film rightfully captures the writing process, as crafting a flawless sentence takes more thought than one would ever think.

I heard a discussion on a podcast once which postulated that anytime there is a story-within-a-story, the story within must be bad in order to bring out how good the actual story is. I always thought this was a good and logical rule, but “Ruby Sparks” breaks from it and mostly makes it work. Ruby is, by most standards, a good character: she is well developed, unique, and three dimensional. She has quirks and personality that go well beyond the surface. At one point, a certain character tells Calvin that all he really ever wanted was to have a relationship with himself. Calvin at first seems as blank as the Kubrickian white walls of his house. Yet, we find that Ruby is literally a chunk of him unleashed.

“Ruby Sparks” is the kind of risky story that Hollywood rarely takes its chances on anymore. Yet, it isn’t totally radical. The idea behind it is a nearly flawless movie concept. When someone asks what would happen if a writer’s creation came to life? my immediate response is what? instead of who cares. The idea feels a little bit like a throwback to the screwball comedies of yesteryear (in fact, it’s poster feels reminiscent to that of “Arsenic and Old Lace”). A throwback of this kind would include a light-hearted and funny spirit and a smart story. “Ruby Sparks” has the latter but oftentimes, it lacks the former.

The main flaw of “Ruby Sparks” is that it sometimes seems to forget that it is a comedy and leans towards too much self-seriousness. I appreciate that it tries to go for a darker twist, but it never prepares us for it. Calvin’s visit to his mother and step father goes on for a little too long, and doesn’t serve much for the rest of the film. However, it was really funny when Antonio Banderas put his glasses on the dog. Things get darkest and strangest towards the end. At that point, it almost lost me. There is a scene that should be there. It shows how Calvin tries too hard to control everything in his life down to his relationships. However, the way that it is presented feels more off-putting than it should.

Obligatory mention that Antonio Banderas is the Nasonex Bee.

“Ruby Sparks” is the first film that director duo Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris have made since 2006′s “Little Miss Sunshine.” Here, they maintain that same attention to little details. Yet, “Ruby Sparks” lacks that same balance of dark humor which separated “Little Miss Sunshine” from every other indie road trip film. “Ruby Sparks” is about halfway to being a dark romantic comedy that comments on romantic comedies that is unlike any other romantic comedy.

Zoe Kazan, who plays the titular Ruby, wrote the script. When looking at it through that lens, the film becomes a little more meta, and I appreciate it more. Perhaps the fact that a woman wrote a well thought out male character who wrote a well thought out female character means that perhaps gender doesn’t (or shouldn’t) matter so much anymore in Hollywood. Maybe the whole Battle of the Sexes (another feature of screwball) has finally ended. However, movies would be a lot funnier if kept going on.

Movie Review: Submarine

Okay, everyone. Time to put on a scarf, thick-frame glasses, and turn your record player on. That’s right, it’s time to get quirky.*

“Submarine” is a very Welsh film directed by someone who is distinctly English, with a distinctly English sense of humor. Funny, as it begins with a note from the narrator Oliver Tate (Craig Roberts) notifying the American audience that there is indeed a difference between being English and being Welsh. This is not the last time Oliver Tate will try and screw with your head in the most deviously playful way possible.


Watching “Submarine” is akin to watching a British Wes Anderson movie. Depending on who you are, this can be taken as a compliment, an insult, or something else in between. The film is filled with jabs of irony and self-awareness, yet thanks to the ideological protagonist, it mostly veers away from being pretentious.

Oliver Tate’s story is set in 1986. 15-year-old Oliver is a blend of Max Fisher, Antoine Doinel, and Alex DeLarge, minus the violent tendencies of the latter. Oliver seems to be a crafted response to these teenage anti-heroes, and his voiceover is of someone who is not aware that he is in a movie, but wishes he could be in one. At one point, Oliver imagines a small moment being captured in a zoom-in on film and low and behold, we get the zoom-in. Richard Ayoade may be credited as the director, but Oliver Tate deserves some of that credit as well.

Oliver may be precocious, but he is also like any character you would find in “American Pie,” as his foremost goal is to lose his virginity. But Oliver, who is probably too young to be this particular, won’t take just any girl. Oliver sets his sights on a girl who is neither the most popular nor the prettiest girl in school. Jordana (Yasmin Paige), like Oliver, keeps to herself. But she stands out in her bright red jacket, a change from everyone else’s drab uniforms. The color red has a big significance throughout, and with just one movie, Ayoade has already found a way to manipulate the small details on screen for his own advantage.

On the inside, Oliver is a hopeless romantic. Meanwhile, Jordana despises anything romantic. Oliver will only take her to the most decrepit places in town. Their dates, captured by Erik Wilson’s hauntingly beautiful cinematography, involve chaos and destruction. In Oliver’s head, everything is going perfectly between them. That is, until tragedy strikes in Jordana’s life, and Oliver is not there for her. She finds this an unforgivable betrayal and dumps him. Yet, he cannot forget about her. Then, Oliver is posed with one of the biggest questions involving young love: will it matter when you’re 38-years-old? Let’s wait until we get to that age to find out.

What differs Oliver from the lead of most high school movies is that he has to deal with issues well beyond what is important to the typical teenager. While trying to maintain his own relationship with Jordana, Oliver also takes on responsibility for his parents’ crumbling marriage. His mother Jill (Sally Hawkins) is falling out of love with her husband Lloyd (Noah Taylor). Lloyd, given the look of a depressed 18th century philosopher by Taylor, is a man who seems content not reaching his full potential. He is a brilliant marine biologist (probably not coincidentally, he was also in “The Life Aquatic”) who excels in research, but mumbles in front of a crowd. He likes everything to be predictable, and he feels no shame in revealing gifts before they are unwrapped. Oliver’s mother, meanwhile, may be having an affair with her former lover Graham Purvis (Paddy Considine), who is an even cornier motivational speaker than Jim Cunningham of “Donnie Darko.” Purvis adds on to the comedic edge of “Submarine,” and makes the movie into a slightly altered version of a plausible reality.

“Submarine” has a deep affinity for the ocean. Maybe it’s a Welsh thing, as the rugged shoreline sure is scenic. The ocean, very adeptly, represents everything that “Submarine” is about. The one fact Oliver remembers that Lloyd taught him about the ocean is that it goes down six miles at its deepest point. Besides that, there is not much more that we can know for sure. It is also probably symbolic for the subconscious, but even my own knowledge only goes so far.

Someone will likely post this on their Tumblr.

The title of the movie comes from the idea that submarines operate at an ultrasound frequency above what humans can hear. One submarine can never know what the other one is planning or thinking. Oliver points this out. Yet, perhaps one of the biggest marks of immaturity is the constant need to contradict one’s self. In the memorable and darkly comic sequence in which Oliver imagines how everyone would react to his death, he believes he has it all down to a T. Maybe he does have it all right. Or perhaps, as he says himself, its better to be by yourself and think about how these things will happen then to actually experience them.

“Submarine” is really the story of Oliver coming out of his shell. The self-assured performances by Roberts and Paige give the movie the heart that it sometimes struggles to find. In a lesser movie, it would have been solely about him winning back Jordana and finding true love. But this is an above par Sundance entry that is about more than what is seen on screen. Here is a coming of age story where the character doesn’t even know if he came of age; all he knows is that he has grown older.

Here is a movie that is all kinds of sad and funny. It is never funny in the cliche, fall out of your seat sense, but rather in the satisfying sense that it has humorously captured a little trinket of life quite accurately. Alex Turner, better known as the lead singer of the Arctic Monkeys, is the movie’s Simon & Garfunkel: you feel like the songs could not exist without being a part of the movie, and vice versa. “Submarine” is one of the most aesthetically pleasing movies to come along in a while. It is like a cinematic museum composed of paintings and polaroids worth staring at for hours. While Oliver’s narration, which guides the story, can go all over the place and get out of hand at times, that is the way it should be. It is hard to say that any decision made by in the production wasn’t made for a reason.

While “Submarine” is rated R, I believe it is still suitable for any 15 or 16 year old to see. I probably shouldn’t be doling out advice to parents, but there is something wrong with how your kids have been brought up if they don’t swear words.


*If you feel the need to punch me in the face after reading the opening paragraph, then I would not blame you.

I have no definitive proof that the final images from “Submarine” (above) and the final images from “The 400 Blows” (below) are related, but I would be surprised if they weren’t.

Movie Review: Exit Through the Gift Shop

There can be a point in a certain film where it stops being a film and starts a living, breathing creature. Some call this meta. Some may think it doesn’t even deserve a name. Whatever meta may be can be the only way to ever truly describe the riveting maybe real or maybe fake documentary, “Exit Through the Gift Shop.”

“Exit Through the Gift Shop” that tells multiple stories and is, believe or not, multiple films rapped within one. The main focus of “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is on Thierry Guetta, an eccentric French-American man who is obsessed with filming everything he sees. Thierry’s annoying filmmaking begins to find a purpose once he gets sucked into the world of street art, meeting such famed street artists as Shepard Fairey.
One day, Thierry is asked to become the personal filmmaker to the most famous, most elusive modern street artist: Banksy. Banksy also directed “Exit Through the Gift Shop.” Discuss.
The interesting thing about describing “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is that it may sound like I’m describing a narrative film rather than a documentary. That’s because “Exit Through the Gift Shop” does a better job than most modern documentaries at taking its parts and constructing a coherent whole.
“Exit Through the Gift Shop” proves that Inception can be a real thing: once an idea is planted in someone’s head, it can never be eradicated. Once the idea that this movie might be a hoax comes to mind, it makes almost too much sense. “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is either the best documentary or the funniest comedy of the year, or both.
However, Guetta seems almost too strange to have ever been invented. At first, he is likably ambitious. After a little twist, he begins something more of a psycho who has absolutely no clue what he’s doing. Nevertheless, it is fascinating to see this man somehow become an extreme success in the world of street art.
Thierry Guetta may be the film’s main star, but “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is always surrounded by the idea of Banksy. After all, this is a Banksy production. Even though he is nothing more than a man in a black hoodie with a muffled voice, he still feels so real and powerful. He also proves here that he is a multi-talented artist, not just mastering the world of street art, but also the world of filmmaking.
Real or not, “Exit Through the Gift Shop” does exactly what it’s meant to do: explore the world of street art. It gives us a look at how street artists function in a way that is so close and exclusive that the viewer begins to become enveloped in the world itself. Notice the film barely uses the term “graffiti.” Instead, all the artists say “street art.” “Exit Through the Gift Shop” will make you more open minded about what art can be.
What “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is really trying to answer (besides who its own director is) is this age old question: what is art? Nearly any object in the world can be taken and turned into art. What Banksy is really asking is this: maybe it isn’t. Could we be living in a world where the idea of artistic expression has been taken too far? That seems possible, especially in a world where people like Thierry Guetta can pick up a camera or a paint brush.
“Exit Through the Gift Shop” becomes meta in that it is a film about the making of the film. It is like a behind the scenes documentary that is way more informative than the average behind the scenes documentary you’d find on Showtime. It is not really about the stars, but about the art that the stars create. What Banksy has created a behind the scenes look not about himself, but about his art. In that art, maybe the real Banksy can be found.
I could be thinking to myself right now that it is a real shame that I didn’t see “Exit Through the Gift Shop” earlier on, for its brilliance deserves a spot on my list of the ten best films of 2010. However, I find it impossible to say that. “Exit Through the Gift Shop” doesn’t even deserve to be on a list of its own. Its unique, reality-bending view on art defies the entire idea of lists.