Maps to the Stars (2014)

“She’s a Scientologist.”

“I was thinking of converting. Kind of a career move.”

I know I've blogged a lot of Cronenberg fils lately, but he fascinates me. He's known for his body horror, but his work (especially in recent decades) is so much more than that- philosophical, dreamlike, with clear themes but a very adult ambiguity of meaning. So here's another.

This film is, of course, a blatant denunciation, from far to the north, of Hollywood and it's vacuous culture where everyone is an aspiring actor/writer/second gaffer. And Hollywood royalty is as horrible and exploitative as anything in the Ancien Regime- arrogant, entitled, obsessed with new age mumbo jumbo, and full of nasty casual prejudices beneath the surface liberalism. They are empty leeches who both feed off and discard ordinary people, from whose lives they are so very far removed. Havana (an excellent Julianne Moore) is as much a monster as anyone in the creepily incstuous and cursed Weiss family, and the relationship between her and Agatha is, I suppose, the fairly straightforward thematic core of the film.

But we also have the weird, incestuous and similarly loathsome Weiss family, seen being generally empty and horrible until prodgal daughter Agatha returns to "make amends". The plot unfolds at the perfect pace as the full, repetitive, abusive horror of the family's curse slowly unwinds. This is, I think, a film that will reward repetitive viewings. While critics are, I know, divided on ths, still Cronenberg's latest, I personally find it utterly compelling.

Being John Malkovich (1999)

“I’m sorry, I have no time for piddling suggestions from mumbling job applicants.”

This is the weirdest, and perhaps the best, film I've ever seen. David Lynch: that there thing on the floor looks like a gauntlet.

This is magnificently, yet confidently weird. It’s not only surreal: it’s philosophical, cultured, Pythonesque, a morality tale and more. The very concept is delightfully mad, and the way things play out is inspired in how staid narrative conventions are adroitly avoided, yet by the end of the film, miraculously, it all actually makes narrative sense on its own terms, even if one’s mind has been screwed with splendidly. This is a dense, layered film, full of clever literary allusions, yet never anything other than lightly playful.

The cast are, without exception, superb- Cusack especially, and of course Malkovich, but Catherine Keener is a revelation as the cooly amoral Maxine, while Orson Bean gives the perfect comic performance.

You can, of course, expect to see many more Charlie Kaufman films in this blog within a very short space of time. Why oh why did I not see this film until I was forty-three?

Anastasia (1997)

"That's what I hate about this government. Everything's in red."

 Ok, let's forget historical accuracy. Rasputin died in December 1916, a full two months before the revolution, yes. And Anastasia was killed with the rest of her family in Yekaterinburg in July 1918 along with the rest of the former imperial family. But let us forget such things, much as we forget how silly it is to travel from Germany to France (by map, naturally) by sailing round Denmark. Why? Because artistic licence, because this was Mrs Llamastrangler's favourite film when she was younger, and because it's an entertaining and kid-friendly piece of superior ersatz Disney.

The plot is predictable; Anastasia survives in defiance of the historical record and heads to Paris to find her grandmother and validation, all the while falling gradually in love, screwball comedy style, and ending up happy if no longer royal- who needs those useless Romanovs anyway?

It's a superb cast, with Christopher Lloyd superb in a rare villainous role as the surely too scary for kids ghostly Rasputin, but Meg Ryan and John Cusack (the most '90s stars ever) steal the show. The animation, still hand-drawn, is gorgeous, and I appreciate the various nods to contemporary art and especially the Toulouse Lautrec version of the Moulin Rouge. Yes, it's for kids; yes, narrative rides roughshod over historical accuracy; but there are far worse ways to spend ninety minutes.