Movie Review: Pixar’s Inside Out

It says something about the depth of the new Pixar animated feature Inside Out, that when I sat down to write this review the first thing that came to my mind as a way to start was with a quote from Descartes’ Second Meditation. But since that’s a terribly ponderous way to begin a review of a movie that was so much fun, let me instead start with a comment about color.

Pixar has painted some beautiful pictures for us over the years. I believe that the outer space dance between Wall-E and Eva in Wall-E may rank towards the top of the list of the most moving sights I’ve seen on the screen, all the artistic power of Fantasia combined with the narrative heft of a love story that is more human than many involving actual humans (Wall-E eats The Notebook and The Fault in Our Stars for lunch, and uses the picked over bones of Twilight to clean its teeth afterwards). I think that the initial montage in Up, following the lives of Carl and Ellie from childhood through to bereavement is one of the great silent films ever made, a story told only in pictures. I hold close to my heart the opinion that Woody, Buzz, and the rest of the toys holding hands as they slide towards the incinerator at the end of Toy Story 3 is gorgeously terrifying. And yet, I can’t remember ever seeing something like Inside Out’s use of color. Color is everywhere, bright color, vibrant color, so vivid and articulated that the characters themselves are built upwards from the foundation of their coloring (yellow for Joy, blue for Sadness, purple for Fear, red for Anger, and green for Disgust). There is no moment when looking at Inside Out is anything but a pleasure.

The story itself has already garnered plaudits for its breathtaking trip through the mind of Riley Anderson, an 11 year old girl whose family moves to San Francisco from Minnesota. We watch, from inside the headquarters of her own mind as she attempts to process this transition (which is, short of losing a parent, probably the largest that a child of her age can undergo). At this point I can do very little besides adding my own voice to the chorus of praise. During the process of the move, Joy and Sadness (voiced by Amy Pohler and Phyllis Smith respectively) are launched out of the headquarters of Riley’s mind in what can only be described as a workplace accident. Without them, Anger, Fear, and Disgust are left in charge of Riley’s mind, and we see her change from a happy, well-adjusted child, into a moody and temperamental adolescent. The ultimate danger, of course, is that without the philosophical powers of Joy and Sadness to balance the gut impulses of Anger, Fear, and Disgust Riley will be left in a place where she can feel very little at all. By moving the action of the film inside Riley’s mind, and by characterizing her emotions, the disillusionment of this one child is given apocalyptic stakes (which is, fundamentally, a more humane vision of the human condition than many of the apocalypses we have seen on the big screen this summer).

I cried more than once during the roughly 120 minutes that the movie ran, and laughed more times than I could reasonably be expected to track. To say that this film represents a return to form for Pixar after a relative down period does not do it justice. Inside Out is one of the very best Pixar films, and belongs on the upper shelf next to Up, Toy Story, and Wall-E. It is a titanic accomplishment, and one of my favorite films of the year so far.

Rating: 4 / 4

Review: True Detective Premiere

True Detective is that person you know who loves to drop names. Look it’s McConaughey! Hey, there’s Harrelson! Robert W. Chambers! Lovecraft! Cthulu!!!

Top Ten TV Detective Countdown!

The second season of True Detective premiere’s tonight on HBO. The early reviews are in, and they are sharply divided. Among those who thought that the hints at a Lovecraftian world, the second season’s ground bound stolidness has been seen as a weakness. On the otherhand, those who had grown tired of the pseudo-philosophizing of Rust Cohle and the questionable status of Marty Hart as a narrator (the moment you remember that all of his sex scenes are in narrated flashback he becomes almost unbearably creepy) the second season has been like a breath of fresh air. Whichever camp you fall into, the return of True Detective qualifies as a television moment. In celebration, or commemoration, or even in simple recognition of the singularity of the first season’s accomplishment (which I’ll be discussing in greater depth tomorrow), I want to run a simple countdown of the ten greatest television detectives of all time:

TV Review: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

Let’s not pull any punches, right from the start, and I will say that Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (2004) is my favorite book of the young century. More than that, it is, to my judgment, one of the best books of the century (competing with Roberto Bolano’s 2666 as the great 21^st century novel). Anyone who knows me knows that these are two distinct judgments. I re-read the book every couple of years (I’d do it more often if it weren’t 900 pages long) in order to be sure that my estimation is not the product of youthful nostalgia, and for eleven years I have been waiting for two things: a sequel and an adaptation. One of those waits is now over.

Blockbuster Women: The Game of Thrones Poison and the Fury Road Antidote

This Post Contains Spoilers from the Game of Thrones Season 5 Finale, Which I Wouldn’t Feel Bad Ruining for Decent Human Beings, but Some of You Nerds Are So Damn Vengeful.

So there we were, twenty million strong, all of us tuned in to the HBO feeds that we all scrupulously pay for, because piracy is not a victimless crime and we know that the Many Faced God does not look kindly on people who take what is not theirs.

Movie Review: Magician: The Astonishing Life and Work of Orson Welles

This year I taught back to back semesters of Introduction to Film, and each semester left me with the same essential conundrum. How do I explain, to students who are only barely older than the 21^st century, why Citizen Kane is such an important film? The lessons and techniques that Kane gave to filmmakers have become so totally enmeshed into the production of films that it is often difficult to explain to students that these techniques had to be invented. You mean films didn’t always have depth of field? So what if you could see the ceilings, ceilings are all over the place, this room has a ceiling… I die a little every time.

Movie Review: Jurassic World

There is some level of difficulty in deciding how to approach a film like Jurassic World. Part of the problem lies in the fact that it is, on the most basic level, more than just a performed narrative. It is an essential component of a multi-billion dollar entertainment empire. It is also a comment on the nature of the blockbuster climate that we have created for ourselves, and the diminishing returns of wonder which that system propagates. It is also a sequel, which is itself the platform for more sequels yet to come. Each of these facets of its nature demand, and deserve, a different model of evaluation.

Observing or Participating: Game of Thrones, Hannibal, and the Question of Viewer Culpability

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS ABOUT THE MOST RECENT EPISODES OF HANNIBAL AND GAME OF THRONES.

This week both Game of Thrones and Hannibal raised specific questions about the relationship between televised violence and viewer responsibility. Not in the tired and hackneyed register of Reagan era congressional moralists trying to chart the relationship between violence on TV and violence in life, in hope of a smoking gun, but in the more immediately arresting register of complicity with structures of violence.

A Note on Hannibal's Exquisite Taste

Recently, I wrote about the new Netflix series Chef’s Table, a look into the kitchens of six of the world’s premiere chefs. This week, NBC responded with their own examination of one of the world’s rarest culinary talents: Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Cinematic Television Countdown, Day Two!

Today is the second day in my five day countdown of the most cinematic moments in recent television. Today I’ll be celebrating:

4. Netflix’s Daredevil, episode two, “Cut Man” :

The idea of cinematic television can encompass a wide spectrum of concepts. Yesterday, for instance, was all about the way that Soderbergh broke with the television convention of shot/reverse shot and elected to instead orbit the camera around Clive Owen during an otherwise mundane scene from The Knick in order to focus our attention away from the procedural dialogue and onto the character. Today I’m interested in a shot from Netflix’s Daredevil, from the second episode “Cut Man.” Anyone who has seen the show will immediately know the shot I am talking about, the furiously kinetic hallway fight scene that closes the episode.

Cinematic Television Countdown, Day One!

I was having a conversation yesterday with a friend who had just started watching the first season of True Detective, and he told me that, to his mind, the show was getting by on two things: the obvious strength of the lead performances and the direction. This is not a novel observation. Nic Pizzolato’s prose occasionally made me think of the Hindenburg. As long as it was precisely contained within the structure provided by Woody Harrelson, Matthew McConaughey, and Cary Fukunaga it was the smoothest and most elegant way to travel, but even the tiniest slip, the smallest unintended spark, and the whole edifice immediately would have gone from majestic to farcical. Watching True Detective’s first season was a like watching Philippe Petit’s 1974 tightrope walk between the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center, you could only hope that skill in execution would override absurdity in conception.

The Two Best Shows You Aren't Watching

Two shows are returning to TV this summer that you, if the ratings are to be believed, are not watching, but you should be.