Very intriguing and interesting ride. Each short has something to offer, but Bong Joon-ho's is the standout with gorgeous visuals and the only story that had to be in Japan.
Pretty underwhelming. It's fine. But you get the sense that the previous episode was the story they really wanted to tell, and this was more obligation. Reveal what happened to Cora's mom, have them head west... it's very pretty, and Cora burying her keepsake is meant to symbolize her moving forward, but... there's no catharsis. It rings hollow when every chance at happiness was snatched away before, and it's hard to fight down the feeling it'll just happen again off screen. Underground Railroad really needed a strong finale to justify itself, but as ever, it leaves me with only mixed feelings.
Throughout the series, I've questioned: do we need it? Why does Jenkins want to tell this story? What can he offer and how can he tell it that gives it worth beyond all the misery laden slavery narratives we've seen before? This episode seems to be the answer. Jenkins' intimate and heartfelt direction: Britell's sweeping, melancholic, and dread-filled score: and Laxton's meticulous and caring eye, neglecting not one detail. All of this in service of the story they (as well as staff writer Crowther and, of course, author Whitehead's) tell. This could be a feature film in of itself; it's painfully relevant to our past, present, and future. The crossroads we face between adopting the tools of the oppressors or forging our own, and the fact of the matter is the first path is forever closed off, only an illusion. There are black capitalists today, and this illustrates their folly. Ultimately, Cora and Ridgeway weren't needed for Valentine's collapse. It was in America's nature to destroy it. Give them a piece, and they will take the whole thing. The second path is full of danger, but it is the only real option.
It's a story of tragedy, each character artfully drawn so you even feel pity for Mingo. And every member of the cast sells the grief, rage, and desolation of these events as well as the wide shots of this beautiful serenity being burned to the ground. Jenkins' flashbacks and overlays of black faces are at their best here; none felt excessive. All of them felt in service of the overarching theme of how this is baked into the very fabric of America and aches in the scars of every black American. This is the only time Ridgeway works for me, as an embodiment of America's white entitlement and rage at the black's mere existence, their daring to strive beyond their station. Letting him become that personification while stripping the person from him makes him the most effective he's been. Homer perhaps serves as a representation, much like Mingo, of our attachment to this country and system. How some weep for it despite its cruelty, buying into its warped sense of parentalism. This episode works.
But does the series? You might notice I haven't talked much about Cora, through no fault of Mbedu's, who acts her heart out. She's the symbol of our trauma, and she finally overcomes Ridgeway. But was every tragedy heaped upon her needed? I'm not sure how much of the previous episodes this one needed to work. The fact that it stands on its own is both a sign of quality and a flaw. Valentine feels like the story best told by this series, the one with the most artistry and passion, with the deepest narrative throughline and thematic strength. So why not focus on it? How much of Cora's trauma was needed? Even now the show can't help itself from going too far by killing off Royal, the character who's arrival was the start of the uptick in the show's quality. They give us this sweet black intimacy, this growth of Cora's to finally let others in despite the risk, and it ends... just like the last time.
Still, even if I'm not sure of my overall opinion of the show- there's still one episode left, after all- that barely harms this masterwork of an episode. If you can't stomach the entire show, at least watch this arc, or this episode.
But This Is America at the end? Really?
Underground Railroad's upswing continues by discarding the easy conflict of Ridgeway for the persona with an in-depth look at Cora's trauma that a TV series allows. There's moments of joy- with William Jackson Harper shining- and heartbreak, brought on by nothing but the scars of the past. Cora trying to reckon with everything she's gone through, what it means, and if she's earned the right to move forward is much more compelling than the slave hunter narrative, and I hope the show keeps it up.
It might be a backhanded compliment to say Underground Railroad's shortest episode might be its strongest, but it doesn't belabor the point or drown the proceedings in misery. It undoes one of the crueller events of earlier episodes, and has an undercurrent of hope throughout. 'Our stories will always be right here,' is the best line so far, and the first that offers any real hint at why Jenkins wanted to tell this story to begin with.
Not going to rate this because it was his first student film but listen. We all have to start somewhere
The Director's Notes really highlighted the visual storytelling, and the sequence where the man uses the finger for a variety of mundane tasks is hilarious and disturbing all at once. That and the ending really highlights the detachment between the white collar and the blue collar, and how easily the first will dispose of the latter.
An ambitious experiment, it never quite coalesces into something more. But the violence and social commentary are all vintage Bong Joon-ho, and the final scene is worth it alone.
Bong Joon-ho's eye for social commentary was always there, and the way the three episodes connect for the epilogue is just perfect.
It's most fascinating as the start of an acclaimed director's career. The black comedy, the class consciousness, the masterful and moody shots... it's all here. It's unrefined and blunt, but there's a charm to that.
The Tomorrow War is the story of a comedy star trying to prove he can do action, and a comedy director trying to prove he can do action, and neither succeeding.
A lot of fun callbacks and not much else.
Give a farmer seeds, and he will create food. Give a musician a melody, and he will create music. Give a soldier an enemy, and he will create nothing. He only destroys. Kills.
It made me feel super orgasmic
How did this not only lead to an actual movie but Jon Watts directing a bunch of meh Spider-Man movies
A one joke short, but the animation is nice.
Ha ha funny ad. Car insurance? He-Man? What a combo!
It's admiringly in your face.
Hell yeah go off Nipper. Funny animal videos are eternal…
I love Lance Reddick with all my heart and soul.
Better than the last thanks to it playing like a mini horror movie and exploring a form of racism a little less rote, but the trappings of trauma porn still hovers.
The title sums it up. Gay and wondrous. It's about accepting the ones you love, flaws and all, and how we are normal people because we embrace what everyone else keeps down. It's overflowing with love and affection, frank but without an ounce of cynicism in it's body. A total delight.
What else is there to say that hasn't been said? A snapshot of a time all too short but that still reverberates and lives on to this day. It's a beautiful display of pride, yes, but also of longing, of loss, of determination, and of survival. It's people making their way in a world that shut them out, and so they had to make their own. And being remembered by even a few in that world... it's enough. I wish it went on for hours, just listening to these men and women talk and share. It's history. Our history. But it's alive and vibrant by presenting these people not as sterilized paragons but as full people, warts and all, their highs and lows. It's required viewing for anyone and everyone.
"I'm a quiet person. And, you know, if you believe that, I own that island right over there too".
Love Jenkins' work and filmmaking poweress, but it's hard to say if this will be more than slavery trauma porn.
The best season yet, somehow seeming only more invigorated and creative after its co host left, like it's proving a point. Eric Andre's love and passion for his craft is stronger and more unbridled than ever, and despite the surprisingly touching ending, it could go on forever and you can feel that he's enjoying this more than ever.
An unapologetically gay and Jewish work with an incredibly talented cast. What more do you need? Unlikely Lovers will stay with me for a while yet.
For being the last of the show for four years- the biggest gap between seasons- and being the last with Hannibal as a regular, this season feels oddly comfortable. Even it's finale lacks, well, finality, but none of that's a bad thing. The show is well in its stride, and the show seems to get more daring as they get bigger guests.
Bird Up! The worst show on television! The fact that episode actually won me over is a testament to this season's confidence, the most comfortable season so far, more quietly ambitious with standout episodes like the Hannibal Buress Show.
Well, it helps to know soulless cash grabs have always been a part of the franchise.
Bong Joon-ho's American co productions are always fascinating for how he takes these concepts that Hollywood would eagerly want and remains true to his style, heart, and vision. Snowpiercer took what many would use as a setpiece action blockbuster and used it for a searing drama on class and the limits of compromise. And Okja took the classic 'A girl and her animal' framework and delivers a sobering, unyielding experience. It's no feel good movie, but one that absolutely makes you feel. Everyone is cast and directed to perfection. The lingering on Dano's soulful eyes... Perfectly harnessing Glyeenhaal's paradoxical pathetic charisma... Swinton embodying two different but equally perverse faces of capitalism, each uniquely rotten to the core... And Ahn Seo-hyun keeping pace with all of them. Bong Joon-ho is so thoughtful and precise with everything he's aiming for, and so uncompromisingly himself. There's police brutality, animal exploitation, using an actual resistance movement with all its weighed history. Not idealized but not demonized, and unabashedly a force of good.
It has the strength to resist both an easy, big win ending, and a despairing one. There is no single victory. There's many small ones, and you eke out what you can, making things better even fractionally. You can't erase the cruelties, and you shouldn't, but you can love and hope, you can bring a little girl back home to her best friend and you can fight. The fight goes on. Like Snowpiercer, it's hard not to see the lessons learned from this film that Bong Joon-ho would go on to apply to Parasite, but Okja more than stands on its own. Parasite was a cathartic recognition of what we all endure, and the tragedy the system leaves. Okja sees the tools we can use to fight it. This film was just a damn pleasant surprise from a movie I already expected to be good and a director I want to see more and more of.
