home image.jpg

Food. Stories. Drinks. Film Reviews. Scripts.

Welcome! Being a writer, cineaphile, and foodie, I wanted a place to bring all of my loves together. Stories and the breaking of bread and sharing of wine are what bring people together. Here are some of my favorite places, recipes, memories, stories, scripts, and film reviews. I hope you enjoy!  

Top Ten Animated Films with Guest Writer Tucker Meijer: #7

Top Ten Animated Films with Guest Writer Tucker Meijer: #7

If you want to read the introduction from Tucker and myself, please go to our choices for the #10 best animated film. Here are our selections for #7.

Tucker’s #7: Up

Up.jpg

The first movie that I cried during was Eight Below. In that 2006 movie starring Paul Walker, a group of dogs are stuck in the Antarctic during a snowstorm. As the movie progresses, the dogs adventure across the frozen wasteland and, unfortunately, (also spoiler alert) not all of them make it back.

As I mentioned in an earlier review, I did not grow up with a dog, but this movie absolutely wrecked me. It was the first time that I can remember being emotionally struck by a film. Now, crying in movies is a common occurrence for me; I cry at sad moments, I cry at happy moments, and sometimes, I cry when I see a beautifully composed shot.

So, when I found myself sobbing at the end of the famous montage that begins Up, I knew that I was in for something special. That montage demonstrates many of the ways that Up succeeds as a movie; in just a few minutes, director Pete Doctor manages to tell the story of a marriage in such a compelling and intimate way that it can turn me into a sobbing mess.

It’s such a fitting way to open the movie, since at its core, Up is about that marriage and how it persists even after Ellie’s death. This manifests in Carl’s relationship with the house; he loves it because, for him, the house is Ellie. I never thought I would feel so much for an inanimate object, until the scene when the house catches on fire. Carl’s desperation upon seeing his house - the last vestige of Ellie - start to burn, is heart wrenching.

The emotional investment in the house pays off in the final shot of the film, which I won’t divulge here for risk of spoiling a moment that is a beautiful and poignant conclusion to the film. The final image is one that sticks with me as a shining example of how to properly conclude a character arc.

Carl’s relationship with the house (and, by extension, with Ellie) is wonderfully portrayed, but so is his relationship with the other characters in the film, especially with Russell. The Russell/Carl dynamic runs the risk of becoming a cliché: a cranky old man becomes less cranky because of his relationship with a kid who teaches him stuff (to be honest, the film does occasionally verge into the “okay, we’ve seen this before” territory). But it’s saved by the organic growth between the two characters; they both remain true to their characters all the way up until the end of the movie.

There are as many moving parts to Up as there are balloons attached the Carl’s house. As I’ve been discussing, the relationships in the film (Carl/Ellie, Carl/Russell, Russell/Kevin) are my favorite parts of the film, but I also love how the movie deals with the idea of your heroes, the ones you interact with everyday and the ones you look up to from afar.

The movie begins with a young Carl idolizing the explorer Charles Muntz. This love and respect of Charles is what spurs Carl on to fly to Paradise Falls in the first place. As the movie goes on, it’s revealed that Muntz is actually the villain, a realization that pains Carl. It’s a devastating moment when Carl realizes that this person whom he loved and looked up to is not the person he thought he was. Muntz is juxtaposed with Carl, who becomes a hero to Russell. Unlike Muntz, Carl did not have his life televised, didn’t make national headlines for his adventuring, and didn’t create a whole colony of talking dogs. But that doesn’t matter to Russell, who still looks up to and loves Carl by the end of the movie. It’s a poignant reminder that our heroes don’t have to be the people we see on TV; they can be the people we’re surrounded by, day in and day out.

I still cry when I watch Up, speaking to its emotional heft. It’s a beautiful movie and one that I deeply, deeply love.


Jeremy’s #7: Anomalisa

anomalisa.jpg

First of all, let me begin this review by posting a disclaimer. Anomalisa is a surprisingly realistic exploration of isolation and sexuality. As a result, yes, sexuality and sex are discussed and shown in ways that would possibly warrant a harsher rating for a live action film. Since it is an animated movie, there is actually a paradoxical ease with which Charlie Kaufman can explore these themes without any real nudity, and instead, use artistic nudity, meant not for lustful entertainment purposes, but rather honest reflection. So... for those people who believe that animated films are solely made for children unless they are pornographic, this is a serious film about adult loneliness and attempts to connect which include sex.

In making a list of the best animated films of all time, I knew when I sat down to review great films to consider that I hoped to include a 3D stop motion picture. I thought about a number of them. I adore Nick Park’s creations; Wallace and Gromit as well as his other films like Chicken Run. Then, there is the Halloween classic operetta The Nightmare Before Christmas, which is one of the most visually iconic films ever created. I also thought of Wes Anderson’s masterpiece The Fantastic Mr. Fox, which made me finally realize that all of his films, even his live action ones, are indeed animated. But, when I rewatched all of them, the film that stuck with me more than any other was my choice for the best film of 2015, Charlie Kaufman’s Anomalisa

In cinema today, there is whatever every other filmmaker is doing, and then, there is what Charlie Kaufman is up to. One of the only screenwriters in history ever to be as well-known as the directors of his films. Charlie has worked with such masters as Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation) and Michel Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), and yet, these movies as known as Charlie Kaufman films, not Spike Jonze or Michel Gondry films. Charlie Kaufman is perhaps our last original storyteller. He has turned his storytelling to the true final frontier, the human mind. 

This is not a typical animated film; it’s not even a typical 3D stop motion picture. Rather than creating a beautiful world like Nightmare Before Christmas or a joyous emotional landscape of a town in Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit, or bring a beloved children’s story to life (Fantastic Mr. Fox), what Charlie tries to accomplish with animated puppets in Anomalisa is to visualize a realistic world; to capture the dull and boring routine of life. 

The story begins with a cacophony of noise. Lots of different people having conversations, and yet, in the darkness of the screen, we realize they’re all the same voice. We begin wondering is this someone’s thoughts? Or are these memories of conversations they have had throughout their life? Then suddenly we see our first image. It’s a glorious almost heavenly sky, glowing, but distant. Eventually the camera reveals that it is merely the vista through a window in a plane where our main character, Michael Stone (voiced by David Thewlis) sits. He obviously has a lot on his mind. He pulls out a letter and when the voice saying what is on the letter is heard, it sounds like everyone else’s voice. The letter laced with expletives sounds like it’s from a female lover, but the voice is that of Tom Noonan. Tom Noonan voices every character in the movie save Michael and one other. To make sure the attentive viewer understands, they overlay the image of the woman telling him off. It is indeed a woman with the same voice as everyone else. 

Michael is suffering from a rare psychological delusion known as the Fregoli Delusion. I didn’t know the definition of this delusion, but upon seeing the movie, I began to explore questions about it. Michael stays at the Fregoli hotel. More on this delusion later. 

Michael is a sad sack of a person. He is a foreigner as is established in the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel. Always an outsider. He sounds distinct compared to everyone else because he is British, although he tries to cover that accent. Taking a look at his name, he is called Stone because he has lost the ability to have emotions in life. He is a middle-aged man who is going through marital problems. So much so that when he calls his wife to tell her he has landed and made it to the hotel, he desperately wants her not to hand the phone to their son, who is dressed like a pirate and wants to know what present his father will bring him back. He can’t even bring himself to love his son. During this time, he looks out the window and sees a man masturbating to his computer before realizing he has been seen and hides. Indeed, loneliness seems to be all around. 

In desperation, he calls another ex-girlfriend, one who he left for apparently no reason years ago. They meet in the bar of the Fregoli and it goes horribly. He should have known it would… he couldn’t recognize her voice on the phone. 

The Fregoli Delusion is when one ceases to be able to recognize individuals. All people become one person in different disguises. This is perhaps the loneliest idea I’ve ever heard of. Kaufman replicates that idea not only in the all of the voices of characters being the same, but also, in the visuals of his film. The hotel is an endless hallway of the same image repeated over and over. The room is an indistinct hotel room, like any hotel room ever traveled to. Each of the puppets has a face that looks like it is built in parts. It looks like a piece of it can be removed, almost like masks hiding the same person underneath them. In fact, the only other sound that is different comes from an ancient Asian doll that is a machine found in an “adult toy store” where Michael goes when trying to find a toy store to buy his young son a present. Talk about a disconnect.

Then after a shower, Michael is completely exposed, looking in the mirror, when he studies his face. He almost takes off part of his face to look beneath when… he hears a different voice! Struggling to put clothes on, he rushes out the door and begin knocking on every door trying to find the voice that he heard. Whoever this is, they are different! Then he finds her… Lisa Hesselman (voiced brilliantly by Jennifer Jason Leigh). She is actually here to see Michael. The ironic thing about Michael’s career is that he is a motivational speaker about creating Human Relations in Business, considering he has few emotions left. Lisa has traveled here with her friend to hear his speech. 

The entire movie takes place over the course of about one 24-hour period. Michael, so desperate to hear someone else and find a connection that separates himself from everyone else, puts all of his attention and dreams into Lisa. She is an anomaly in his life. He eventually calls her Anomalisa.   

One of the great authors of all time, James Joyce often writes about isolation and depression, yet, there is often a moment of profound epiphany in his works for his characters, which causes them to understand and deal with their isolation and depression differently. There is a section of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, where the main character, Stephen Daedalus, sees a woman standing in the river and is forever changed. In his epiphany, he realizes the importance of transformation and beauty. It will forever change his life. 

Charlie Kaufman also often writes about characters who are isolated and alone and who also have epiphanies; however, too often in Charlie’s works… these supposedly life changing epiphanies are forgotten shortly after they happen. Whether it is Jim Carey’s character in Eternal Sunshine or John Cusack’s character in Being John Malkovich, the profound realizations they have are fleeting and the troubles of life return. That has never been truer than this film. Michael finally finds what he wants… only it doesn’t offer him what he believes it will. He is the problem… and that is something that he can never accept. 

So why is this film on a best animated list? Because, I don’t think this movie could have been done with the same effect any other way. The puppets provide the sterility needed to a world with only one voice. Doing this with either life action, traditional animation, or CGI would fail to capture what Charlie has done here. It is certainly, whether you enjoy the movie or not, a dramatic statement about the problems of loneliness in our modern life… and an incredible use of stop motion. 

The Great Movies: The Shawshank Redemption

The Great Movies: The Shawshank Redemption

Top Ten Animated Films with Guest Writer Tucker Meijer: #8 Critics' Take

Top Ten Animated Films with Guest Writer Tucker Meijer: #8 Critics' Take