The Things You Find On Netflix: El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie (dir by Vince Gilligan)

Posted on October 11, 2019 by Lisa Marie Bowman

As one might expect from the sequel film to Breaking Bad, the shadow of Walter White hangs over very minute of El Camino.

Physically, Bryan Cranston doesn’t have a large role in El Camino. Like many of the characters from Breaking Bad, he appears only in a flashback. Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul) spends a good deal of this movie dwelling on the past, perhaps because the only way that he can have a future is by mentally forgiving himself for all the stuff that went on while he was cooking meth with Walter White and, later, for the Nazi bikers who kept him chained up in a cage like an animal. So, it makes sense that we would see a lot of flashbacks, the majority featuring characters who are no longer alive. Cranston’s Walter White only appears towards the end of the film, when Jesse remembers the conversation they had at a diner about what Jesse was going to do with the money that they were making. It’s a bit jarring to see them, largely because Walter still looks like an earnest and frail science teacher while Jesse is still young, loud, and more than a little obnoxious. It’s quite a contrast to what we know will eventually happen to both characters.

For obvious reasons, Walter White isn’t in much of El Camino but his ghost seems to following Jesse through the entire movie. For that matter, so does the ghost of Tod Alquist (Jesse Plemons). It’s not just that a good deal of the movie deals with Jesse trying to figure out where Tod hid all of his money. (Jesse is planning on using the money to hopefully escape New Mexico and start a new life in Alaska.) It’s also that Jesse has been scarred, both physically and mentally, by the Hellish time that he spent as Tod’s …. well, Tod’s pet. Tod treated Jesse like a dog, keeping him on a leash, punishing him for being “bad,” and then offering Jesse pizza as a reward whenever Jesse did something right. To be honest, the flashbacks with Tod take some getting used to, largely because Plemons has obviously aged quite a bit between the finale of Breaking Bad and the shooting of El Camino. But, still, Plemons is absolutely terrifying as the unfailingly polite but definitely sociopathic Tod. At one point, Tod casually brings Jesse over to his apartment so that Jesse can help dispose of the body of his cleaning lady. Tod murdered her because she came across some money that he was hiding in a hollowed-out book. Tod shrugs as he tells the story of her murder, as if his actions are as commonplace as waking up and going to bed.

Throughout Breaking Bad, Jesse spent most of the series being manipulated by evil men. What was ironic, of course, was that Jesse was the only one of those men who must people automatically considered to be a criminal. Everyone thought that Walter was a tragic family man. Tod was largely anonymous and those who did notice him usually assumed he was just an eccentric weirdo. Jesse, on the other hand, was the guy who was continually getting hauled in by the police and harassed by the DEA. He was the one who was viewed as being a danger to society even though he eventually proved himself to be one of the few characters with anything resembling a conscience. In El Camino, Jesse finally gets a chance to determine his own fate. Will he embrace the lucrative but soul-destroying greed of Walter and Tod? Or will he escape and try to make a new life for himself?

El Camino is a visually stunning tour-de-force, anchored by Aaron Paul’s empathetic performance as Jesse. Jesse is no longer as loud as he may have been in Breaking Bad. He’s a man haunted by the past and, watching the film, you know, regardless of whether he makes it to Alaska, the scars will never fully heal. He has the haunted eyes of a man who is never going to be fully okay, regardless of where he ends up. In fact, if we’re going to be realistic, he probably doesn’t have much of a future ahead of him. Those ghosts are always going to follow him and, as Robert Forster’s Ed sagely explains it, much of what has happened is due to Jesse’s own poor decisions.

Still, whatever mistakes he’s made in the past, you can’t help but wish the best for Jesse Pinkman.

He’s earned it.

Film Review: Hell or High Water (dir by David Mackenzie)

Posted on December 29, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The Texas-set film Hell or High Water features four excellent lead performances. There’s Chris Pine and Ben Foster, playing brothers and robbing banks. And then there’s Jeff Bridges and Gil Birmingham, as the two Texas Rangers who are attempting to hunt the brothers down.

But for me, my favorite character was the waitress who, during the latter half of the film, serves lunch to the two Texas Rangers. When Bridges asks her how she’s doing, she replies, “Hot and not in the good way.” When the two Rangers start to order their food, she stops them and tells them that everyone who comes in the diner orders the same thing except for one “asshole from New York” who tried to order a trout. “We ain’t got no goddamn trout!” It’s a short scene but it’s one of my favorites because, if you’ve ever spent any time in West Texas, you know that this scene is probably the most realistic in the entire film.

My second favorite character was a banker teller played by the great Dale Dickey. When the Rangers ask her if the men who robbed her bank were black, she replies, “Their skin or their souls?” You just have to hear the way that she delivers it. In theory, that should be an awkward line but Dale Dickey makes it sound totally natural.

In fact, everything about Hell or High Water seems totally natural. For a film about bank robbers, it’s actually a deceptively low-key film, one that is as memorable for its quiet moments as its shoot outs. When the violence does come, it’s all the more jarring because the movie has spent so much time focusing on the tranquil stillness of the West Texas landscape.

(That said, I should point out that the film was actually shot in New Mexico. But, quite frankly, New Mexico is pretty much just West Texas with more Democrats.)

Hell or High Water is a film that’s all about the little details. The film opens with a bank robbery and, as the camera gracefully circles the bank, we catch a glimpse of graffiti announcing that the artist did 4 tours in Iraq and that “bailouts (are) for banks, not for me.” At its heart, Hell or High Water is about the many people who have been left out of this so-called “economic recovery,” in which we’re all supposed to have such faith despite having seen little evidence of its existence. While the rich get richer, the struggle of the people in Hell or High Water is ignored by everyone but them. And so, the people do what they can to survive. For some, that means robbing banks. For others — like a wonderfully snarky group of witnesses in a diner — that means refusing to admit that they saw anything happen. If you want to see a realistic portrait of economic uncertainty and populist revoltuon, don’t waste your time with the cutesy bullshit and bourgeois Marxism of The Big Short. Watch Hell or High Water.

Of course, not everyone is willing to turn a blind eye to the bank robbing brothers. Hell or High Water is not just about economic anxiety. It’s also about the unique struggle of being a bank robber in a part of the country where literally everyone has a gun. (During one robbery, Pine asks an old customer if he has a gun on him. “Damn right I got a gun on me!” the old man snaps back.) As opposed to so many other films, Hell or High Water gets West Texas right.

(It’s probably not a coincidence that we’re told the brothers robbed a bank in Archer City, the home of legendary Texas writer, Larry McMurtry.)

As for the film’s cast, Jeff Bridges and Ben Foster get the two “showiest” roles. Jeff Bridges plays a Texas Ranger who is only a few days away from retirement and who enjoys needling his partner. (One of the main delights of the film is the comedic interaction between Bridges and Gil Birmingham.) Ben Foster is the more reckless of the two brothers, an ex-con who declares that everyone is his enemy but, at the same time, shows himself to be willing to do anything to protect his brother. Both Bridges and Foster give excellent performances and Foster, in particular, reminds us that he’s one of the most exciting actors working today.

And yet, for me, the true anchor of the film is Chris Pine. Chris Pine, of course, is best known for starring in the last three Star Trek films. And while he was always an adequate lead in those films and he gave a wonderfully self-aware performance in Into The Woods, none of his past films prepared me for just how good a job he does in Hell or High Water. Pine gives a quiet and rather subtle performance and, when we first see him, we automatically assume that he’s been dragged into the criminal life by his more flamboyant brother. But as the film progresses, we start to realize that there’s more to both the character and to Chris Pine as an actor. By the end of the film, we’re forced to reconsider everything that we previously assumed about everyone.

Speaking of end of the film — let’s just say that Hell or High Water has one of the best final scenes of 2016. Like the film itself, it’s deceptively low-key but it leaves you reeling.

It took me a while to see Hell or High Water but I’m glad I did. Come Hell or high water, you should see it too.

Shattered Politics #92: White House Down (dir by Roland Emmerich)

Posted on February 11, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

To say that the 2012 film White House Down is stupid is probably unnecessary. After all, the film was directed by Roland Emmerich and Emmerich specializes in making stupid films.

And, in many ways, White House Down is prototypical Emmerich film, a long and self-important collection of mayhem and heavy-handed pontification. In the case of this film, liberal President Sawyer (Jamie Foxx) is pushing for a treaty that will magically bring about world police. Naturally, a bunch of evil right-wingers (including characters played, somewhat inevitably, by James Woods and Richard Jenkins) don’t want world peace so they hire a bunch of mercenaries who attack the White House. It’s all a part of a plot to force Sawyer to launch a nuclear attack on Iran because … well, why not? Fortunately, aspiring secret service agent (and kick-ass combat veteran) John Cale (Channing Tatum) is there to work with the President and save the country.

And, since Emmerich is from the bigger is always better school of filmmaking, many familiar landmarks are blown up and it takes the film well over two hours to tell its simplistic story. To be honest, if your action movie can’t get the job done in under two hours, then you’re going to have problems. Once a viewer has spent two hours watching one movie, it’s inevitable that he or she will start to question the film’s logic. If the film’s clever enough, all lapses and inconsistencies can be forgiving. If the film is White House Down, it’s a lot less easy to be forgiving.

Of course, from a political point of view, Emmerich tries to have it both ways. For anti-government types like me, it’s always fun to watch Washington D.C. blow up. For those on the right, White House Down presents a situation that can only be solved by heroes with guns. And, of course, Democrats can view White House Down as wish fulfillment, an alternative timeline where Barack Obama actually is as sincere and effective as they wish him to be.

In fact, if anything saves White House Down, it’s the chemistry between Foxx and Tatum. Wisely, neither one of them appears to be taking the film that seriously and both of them seem to be having a lot of fun blowing things up. Channing Tatum, in particular, deserves some sort of award. How many bad films have been made tolerable by Tatum’s willingness to laugh at himself? I’ve lost count but White House Down definitely benefits from his presence. He and Foxx make Emmerich’s style of filmmaking as tolerable as it will ever be.

Film Review: Wild (dir by Jean-Marc Vallee)

Posted on January 6, 2015 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Wild opens with Cheryl Strayed (played by Reese Witherspoon) standing on the edge of a cliff. She has been hiking for days and, because her hiking boots are too small, she’s limping and in a great deal of pain. She takes off a boot and a sock and stares at her bloody big toe. With trembling fingers, she removes what is left of her big toenail. And then, she throws her boot over the edge of the cliff while screaming, “FUCK YOU!”

And, from that moment, Wild had me.

For the next two hours, I sat there and I was absolutely enthralled as Cheryl, an aspiring writer and a recovering drug addict who was still struggling to come to terms with the death of her mother (played, in heart-breaking flashbacks, by Laura Dern), hiked her way from the Mexican border up to the Canadian border. I watched as she learned how to survive in the wilderness, how she cautiously learned to trust some of her fellow hikers, and as she dealt with sexist rangers and creepy hunters.

And there were a lot of reasons why Wild held me so enthralled. There was Reese Witherspoon’s performance, for one thing. Reese is on screen during every minute of Wild and, for a lot of that time, she’s alone with her thoughts and her emotions. She gives an amazingly focused performance, one that should regain her some of the respect that she sacrificed by appearing in movies like This Means War and publicly asking, “Do you know who I am?” Both the film and Reese’s performance resist the temptation to idealize Cheryl. Instead, both the film and the performance feel real and because Cheryl comes across as a real person (flaws and all), it makes her journey and her achievement all the more powerful.

I couldn’t help but relate to Cheryl. Like her, I’m an aspiring writer. Like her, I’m still learning how to deal with the loss of my mom. Like her, I have trust issues. Like her, I am sometimes too stubborn for my own good. Like her, I like to leave quotes in guest books. Like her, I always pack a few paperbacks before I go on a trip and I like to write in my journal. Like Cheryl, I’m a survivor and I’m proud of it.

Unlike Cheryl, however, I’ve never gone hiking and I doubt if I ever will. As much as I loved Wild (and it’s definitely one of my favorite films of 2014), it didn’t leave me with any great desire to go on a hike. That’s largely because of that first scene. When Cheryl threw away her boots and screamed, I thought to myself, “That would so be me.” Of course, the difference is that Cheryl did that after hiking for a month. I would probably end up doing that after the 2nd day. And then I’d turn around, go back home, and spend the weekend watching Netflix.

But here’s the thing: Wild is not really about hiking. Wild is about the journey. What’s important is not that Cheryl hiked but that Cheryl accomplished what she set out to do. No matter how difficult it got, no matter how many people told her she should give up, Cheryl walked from Mexico to Canada. By the end of the film, I felt like, if Cheryl could do that even with boots that were too small, than there was nothing that I could not do.

As a result, Wild is not only one of the best films of 2014.

It’s the most empowering as well.