Showing posts with label Olivia Cooke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olivia Cooke. Show all posts

Monday, June 22, 2015

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Alfonso Gomez-Rejon/Starring: Thomas Mann, RJ Cyler, Olivia Cooke, Connie Britton, Nick Offerman, Molly Shannon and John Bernthal

Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon's Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, based on a novel by the same name by screenwriter Jesse Andrews, is an uneven effort, unfortunately. Original in some moments, it is less so in others. When it goes right, it's very right and when it doesn't, it doesn't exactly stumble but it doesn't step gracefully either. Its poignance and power arrives late in the third act, while the first half of the film is a mosaic of hit and miss moments.

The story begins as any teen-angsty, independent film might, as Greg (Thomas Mann, in a career-elevating role), the film's unreliable narrator and main subject, tells us in voice-over about his senior year of high school, which was also the worst year of his life. But Greg isn't always a suspect narrator, for his self-assessments can be objective, as when he talks about where he fits in the high school social hierarchy. Belonging to none of the cliques we recognize from personal experience: jocks, drama geeks, etc., Greg informs us he has survived high school by gaining acceptance by all the various factions. But though he maintains some kind of detente with the myriad social groups, he is also is a loner; though partly by design.

Greg's mother (Connie Britton), informs him one day that his classmate, Rachel, has been diagnosed with Leukemia. She suggests (coerces is more like it) he visit her, hoping comfort by a classmate might do her some good. Greg protests, pleading mutual non-acquaintance, but he goes anyway.

The initial meeting is less than auspicious. Greg insensitively and callously tells a puzzled Rachel (Olivia Cooke) that his mother put him up to it, which only makes an already awkward situation unpleasant. But Greg's offbeat sense of humor and shaggy charm nevertheless rates him a visit to her room. Casual conversation leads them eventually to the subject of her illness. The two share a laugh about how best to respond to people who make platitudinous comments about her Leukemia. As the two begin to warm to one another, Greg tells us in voice-over narration that the audience should not expect the story to veer into a passionate romance, as it's "not that kind of story." And as Greg begins to visit Rachel on what seems like a daily basis, she meets his friend Earl (a very funny RJ Cyler). Since Earl has known him since childhood (seen in flashback), he tells Rachel that he is the closest thing Greg has to a friend. Earl tells Rachel that his quasi-friendship with Greg is mainly a collaboration. Greg explains how he and Earl make short movies that are essentially re-imaginings of classic films, which are also ridiculously retitled. One example is Midnight Cowboy, which in Greg and Earl's version is 2:48 Cowboy. The films are self-consciously silly and though they never let anyone view them, they make a special dispensation for Rachel.

In more voice-over, we learn that Earl lives in the more economically-stressed part of town, while Greg's neighborhood is decidedly middle-class.

Unable to sit in the school cafeteria for lunch, with its rigid, social caste system, Greg and Earl occupy their history teacher's office to watch movies. Their teacher; Mr. McCarthy (Jon Bernthal) is the kind of teacher who exists only in movies; heavily tattooed and hip, he is a source of wisdom and forbearance for the young men.

Though Greg tells us in his narration that Rachel will survive, we become more skeptical as the film progresses. Rachel's chemo-induced hair-loss and her protracted stay at home and the hospital provide ample doubt. As Greg's visits become regular, he begins to neglect his school studies, in spite of his acceptance to Penn State.

What does Rachel's condition mean to Greg, whose self and self-loathing seem to occupy his mind the most? Others begin to call him on his behavior, including Rachel, who sees Greg's visits and his application to Penn State as two instances where his actions are forced upon him by others rather than being self-determined. Earl takes him to task for treating Rachel like a burden while Greg's school crush Madison (Katherine C. Hughes), urges him forcefully to make a film for Rachel; a kind of tribute from family, friends and students.

As Earl and Greg interview people for the film, they find the responses are obliviously insensitive and appallingly trite.

After a brief period of not-seeing Rachel, Greg visits her at the hospital on prom-night, in a tux, where he sets up a projector for her to see the film he and Earl have made for her. Everything in the film builds to this moment, as Rachel's condition suddenly becomes dire as Greg's film plays on the hospital room wall. While the hospital staff react desperately to Rachel's physical emergency, she reacts powerfully to Greg's mesmerizing and beautiful film.

Based on the trailer, one might expect Gomez-Rejon's film to be an upbeat, offbeat comedy but the grave second half of the story attains a searing poignancy.

Though we're supposed to notice Greg's character arc, the film fails to show it. In the end, we hear Rachel in voice-over speak of Greg's self-sacrifice and his numerous virtues though I had a hard time accepting her word. He does show genuine compassion for Rachel at times but for the most part, his egoism shows a frightful consistency.

As mentioned earlier, Gomez-Rejon's camera work was quite imaginative. The hallways, Mr. McCarthy's office and the cafeteria are shot (and designed) to appear as very narrow, constricting spaces while a wide-angle lens gives Rachel's room almost exaggerated, expansive proportions.

I particularly enjoyed Olivia Cooke's and RJ Cyler's performances. Cooke didn't play Rachel as an object of pity or of graceful suffering but as someone who sees her terminal illness as an a kind of annoyance. Cyler says little but he is often quite funny and his scene where his confronted by Greg is quite moving. I would have liked to know more about their characters but like everyone else in the film; they were merely planetoids in the universe called Greg.

Why is Greg the main character in this story? Why don't we know more about Rachel, whose inner life makes an appearance late in the film, when Greg wanders among her possessions in her bedroom? In the end, it is she who shows a more selfless side and is everything Greg should be.

I found the endless movie references exhausting and the use of Les Blank's documentary on the making of Fitzcarraldo; The Burden of Dreams, a glaring affectation though Greg's impersonation of Werner Herzog writing an entrance essay to the college board is amusing.

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl is a difficult movie to write about because it can't be dismissed or assigned unconditional, fulsome praise. It is a film to see but is it a must see? It will no doubt elicit a stronger reaction from younger film-goers. Whether it impacts an older audience remains to be seen.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Ouija



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Stiles White/Starring: Olivia Cooke, Ana Coto, Daren Kagasoff, Bianca A. Santos, Douglas Smith and Shelley Hennig

Ouija boards will never stop being a source of fascination for horror filmmakers. Though they're used mostly by bored teenagers and cranks to summon demons (at least in movies) or commune with the dead, one can buy a version for a little more than 15 bucks on Amazon or any toy retailer. I remember our family owned one when I was a kid but it usually provided only ten minutes worth of amusement after the incommunicado spiritual world refused to play along. After a Ouija board was featured in The Exorcist, one of my brothers burned our copy; fearing it's malevolent potential. Why Satan's minions or the spirit world would find a game board manufactured by Hasbro or Parker Brothers an effective means of transit into our world is quite peculiar. If a board game like Ouija works so well, might not Stratego or Yahtzee be just as effective? (Note to self: try summoning dead relatives or a netherworld entity using Candyland)

In director Stiles White's first feature film, Ouija makes another appearance.

We see two young girls playing with the game while going over unwritten rules about how and when to use the Ouija board (e.g. never play alone, etc.).
We then see one of the girls, Debbie (Shelley Hennig), now a teenager in the present day, trying to burn the game after some unpleasant experiences. As the game board smolders in the fire, her best friend Laine (Olivia Cooke; a poor man's Leighton Meester), visits and tries to convince Debbie to join her for an evening at a school event. Debbie decides to remain home; choosing instead to stay alone in what must be one of the the most poorly-lit homes in horror film history. How anyone with a modicum of sound mental health would spend an evening alone in such a house says something about the writers' idea of plausibility.

Before long, strange, spooky things begin to happen inside the house. Shortly thereafter, Debbie uses a cord of lights to hang herself from a light fixture. Laine and friends are naturally distraught but also puzzled as to why a seemingly happy teen would commit suicide. While at the funeral reception, Laine finds the Ouija board Debbie tried to destroy, which she remembers using with her best friend as children.

Feeling dissatisfied after canvassing her friends to determine Debbie's state of mind before the suicide, Laine decides to use the Ouija board to try to summon her best friend's spirit (talk about bad ideas!). Having agreed to house-sit in Debbie's home while the parents are away (bad idea #2), Laine, her sister Sarah (Ana Coto), and her friends hold a seance to make contact with their deceased chum. Some of the friends are naturally skeptical but go along with it. Of course the game planchette responds to their questions, and before long, eery, scary sounds are heard throughout the house and for once in a horror movie, the teenagers head for the door and escape.

Afraid to return to Debbie's house, Laine brings the Ouija board home with her (unbelievably bad idea #3) and unwittingly invites whatever tormented her friend into her own house.

Unable to leave well-enough alone, Laine continues to delve into the mystery of the friend's death while also feeling guilt about whether her intervention might have prevented the tragedy. And because Laine is persistent in pursuing answers, the spirits involved begin to menace her friends and kill them off, one by one, until only she and her sister Ana and Debbie's boyfriend Pete (Douglas Smith) are left to fend off the spectral naughties.

In time Laine learns that the former occupant of Debbie's home was a medium whose daughters became evil practitioners. Debbie inadvertently became one of their victims after playing with the Ouija game.

The rest of the film involves Laine, Sarah and Peter returning to Debbie's home and there they find a secret basement where the daughters observed their dark rituals. To dispel the evil, Laine must burn the skeletal remains of the daughter who succumbed to the dark side with the Ouija board, which of course the daughter/spirit tries to thwart.

If I've missed some key elements of the story, I'm sure you'll forgive me; I was menaced by my own abstract foes in the theater; namely boredom and distraction. Unlike the recent Annabelle, White's film doesn't go for the gut. Horror movie cliches are trotted out, one by one, like models on a fashion runway but without any style or tension to give them a unique or fun spin.

And like most teenagers in horror films, who are on furlough from the Asylum for the Stupid, Laine and her friends abandon common sense at every turn. And in the aftermath, after Laine loses several of her friends to the spirit's murderous designs--we see her sitting on her bed at home. Her sister asks if she is okay, to which Laine offers a very reserved "Yeah, I'm okay." I wanted to scream at the screen, "Hey, Laine, you're directly responsible for the deaths of several of your best friends and you act as if you just got over a bad cold; where the hell is your tortured guilt or regret?!" I think the spirits killed the wrong person. Laine's insistence on contacting Debbie, which she mindlessly and recklessly pursued over the strong objections of her friends, left a trail of dead bodies her actions can hardly justify. But what about Laine's friends' complicity in their own deaths? I would think most people, after having a frightening first encounter with the spirit world, might say "Screw you, Laine; go chat with a ghost on your own; I'm not idiotic enough to to mess with something that wants me very dead."

But that would be a movie where everyone behaved sensibly.

Before I left the theater, I caught the producer credits onscreen. Among the names was--I should have guessed--Michael Bay. It's bad enough the 2014 Summer movie season was littered with mindless shlock he either produced or directed (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Transformers: Age of Extinction; to name two) but now we have to suffer his other seasonal, inane swill as well.

Annabelle used the horror movie panoply of scares to great effect. We recognized all the tricks but the film delivered. Ouija couldn't even be troubled to give us one scare or chill. Instead, we meet a bunch of teen lunkheads who look high school but think kindergarten and some clowns from the spirit world who couldn't frighten a room full of jumpy 4-year-olds.

No folks; don't burn that Ouija board just yet; you may want to use it to have your movie money refunded, or better yet, to contact the dark lord of the underworld to come claim one of his minions: a knuckle-headed wraith named Michael Bay.