I enjoyed watching this Norwegian drama, and was moved to see how a romantic relationship can evolve and still have meaning even after it ends. One standout scene is when the main character Julie crashes a party and meets Eivind, and the two flirt in escalating ways while making sure that they don’t cross the line into cheating on their respective partners.
In hindsight though, I found Julie to be empty as a character (through no fault of Renate Reinsve’s charismatic performance). I get that she’s meant to be indecisive, and doesn’t know what she wants, but that idea could have been explored. She only doesn’t know what she wants given the limited set of choices that modern society presents her; but I believe that everybody wants something… it’s the spaces between the choices that make a person. Case in point, the Aksel character—who seems to be a surrogate for the writer/director, since he’s all about making art—gets plenty of introspective moments. Why not give these moments to the main character?
For the first half of this movie, I couldn’t help comparing it to Carol. They share the dynamic of a young, shy woman being attracted to an older, more glamourous and confident woman. But for me, Eileen felt like a lesser version; its dialogue is somewhat shallow and obvious, lacking in mystery.
It turns out that the film is more of a thriller than it sets itself up as. I won’t spoil it, but it goes to an intense and uncomfortable place. While it succeeds in setting the movie apart, I didn’t feel like there was much depth to the story overall.
I watched this show to prepare before seeing the musical Six. The first season is quite slow, but I think the show finds its rhythm in Season 2, once Anne Boleyn becomes queen. There’s also a noticeable increase in production quality in Seasons 3 and 4, as the show grows beyond interior sets and into castle courtyards and battlefields.
With historical dramas, there’s a tradeoff between being factually accurate and giving the audience compelling emotional stakes. I think this show skews more towards the former; I know it’s not 100% accurate, but there’s still a connect-the-dots feeling that the show is covering the important dates at the cost of character development.
I don’t think there’s much insight into the mind of Henry VIII himself. He seems to be ruled by his hormones more than anything else. The most interesting character turns out to be Henry Cavill’s Charles Brandon. I found it compelling that he’s conflicted by his relationship to the King; he’s loyal, but recognizes the harm of the Henry’s cruel tendencies. Cavill’s performance is subtle and charismatic. Seeing this, it doesn’t surprise me that he was the biggest star to come out of this cast.
A non-narrative documentary in the vein of Koyaanisqatsi and Baraka. Ascension doesn’t quite reach those heights; what’s missing for me is the music, which is key for “vibes” films like these.
I appreciated the film’s look at China’s working class. For the most part, the goal that these people are trying to ascend towards—wealth—remains an invisible spectre that hangs over them. You don’t see the bosses that they’re trying to please by taking smiling lessons; you don’t see the VIPs that they’re training as bodyguards to protect; you don’t see who they’re constructing the sex dolls for.
I almost wish that the film that kept that limited perspective for the entire runtime, but we do see a fancy dinner with those who have ascended all the way to the top. But for them, there is a higher goal: they seem preoccupied with the Western influences of the table settings and glassware. Is the Chinese Dream really worth chasing if it just leads you into the same materialistic folly as the American Dream?
To best enjoy this musical about the six wives of King Henry VIII, it’s good to brush up on the history. The lyrics contain a lot of jokes and references that I wouldn’t have gotten had I not learned a bit about the real-life stories.1
The songs are catchy, though unexceptional. The best song for me is the one for Catherine Howard. Through several repetitions of the chorus, she comes to realize that men objectify her, and goes through an emotional journey from playful to tragic. The singer ends the song with a sob, a surely challenging feat for an actor.
Footnotes
by watching The Tudors TV show, which is not necessarily the most historically accurate, but close enough ↩
I was sucked in for most of this novel, which tells the story of a middle-aged man who meets two mysterious women in the wake of his wife’s death. Each of the three characters have painful secrets in their past, and I was fascinated by how they each tried to hide themselves from the others, while still trying to grow closer.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think that the final revelations were very satisfying. The plot introduces one too many extramarital affairs, in my opinion. Even though it is meant to mirror another affair, it just felt like it came out of nowhere. Also, I found the prose style (or the translation) to be a bit repetitive (“It was the most unusual winter…“)
I don’t want to criticize this book too harshly. It’s well-written and readable, and my wife really loved it and got a lot out of it.
The author’s main argument can be summed up as: “Work sucks sometimes, but you are not your job, so don’t take it personally.” Each chapter is a mini-profile of someone who has experienced the suckage of work, and how they have learned the lesson that they shouldn’t have felt so bad about it, and that they should focus on what really matters.
But the things that suck about work still suck, whether you take it personally or not. It’s easy in hindsight to make the case that you should detach from the job, but it’s not so easy when it’s happening to you. I found myself wishing for justice from the employers who caused the suckage, but I suppose that would be another type of book.
Reservation Dogs appeared recently on The Hollywood Reporter’s list of top TV shows of the 21st century, pretty high up there. Not that these rankings mean a whole lot, but this show deserves any critical praise it gets. Equal parts hilarious and touching, and ultimately hopeful without shying away from the injustices that Indigenous people have faced… just watch it.
The premise and setup of this thriller drew me in. A family is home-invaded by twisted doppelgängers, monstrous versions of themselves. Cool idea, but unfortunately, the extended middle section of the movie doesn’t do much with the idea. It’s mostly generic chases and fights, and their attackers could have been anyone. The action scenes are well done and I felt the tension, but ultimately I was disappointed because the concept isn’t fully developed. The only explanation comes in the form of a long villain monologue… I wish it had been integrated into the story instead.
My main takeaway from this book is to try to see social issues in terms of insecurity instead of inequality. It’s easy to blame inequality on greedy wealthy people, which amplifies the divisions between people, whereas insecurity is a function of the capitalist system, and affects everyone. The reason that greed is such a powerful force is because everyone is afraid is losing it all, no matter how much they have.
I’m not sure if the book really sticks to this idea, though. We get the historical background of the origins of capitalism, which is a story about barons and commoners, which brings us back around the division between haves and have-nots all over again.
While I appreciated the historical and especially the Canadian context in this book, it felt overall like preaching to the choir. (I’m already quite the socialist.) It’s also written in a somewhat academic style, which made it increasingly skimmable towards the end.
