The Personal History of David Copperfield

Dev Patel is well-off, then bad-off, then well-off, then bad-off, and then well-off again in this brisk and charmingly color-blind adaptation of Charles Dickens' novel.

I wonder if they thought, "Dev Patel would make a great David Copperfield" and then decided to ignore race in the casting, or if they decided to ignore race, and then realized Dev Patel would make a great David Copperfield.

Two hours of screen time is not long enough for an 800-page novel. I've yet to read it, but I don't need to know what was shortened or cut out to know that it was done. Severely, I expect. And that's why I'm glad I saw this before reading it. Because I enjoyed it immensely, and though I know I'm missing something, I haven't a clue as to what. Well—I do in a general sense. But more on that later. At first brush, David's journey of growing up and becoming a writer, surrounded by a rollercoaster of ups and downs, and an even more wild ride in the forms of eternally kooky supporting characters, feels like Dickens 100%. If you get a Dickens itch, this will scratch it.

It speeds along through the plot at sometimes too great speeds, although it never gets exhausting and has good pacing. The only thing I waited for was for young David to grow into Dev Patel—and once he did the film came alive and found its lively and comfortable groove. I don't know what David's personality is supposed to be like, but Patel seems to me a Dickens hero through and through. Easy-going, energetic, funny and sincere with occasional outbursts of anger and naïve stupidity. Ideal. Tilda Swinton, Hugh Laurie, Peter Capaldi, Rosalind Eleazar, Benedict Wong, Aneurin Barnard, Morfydd Clark, and Ben Whishaw all added to it, but it was Patel who made the movie sing.

There are some first-rate scene transitions in this thing.

The problem comes in when the movie reaches the dramatic parts that are meant to have stakes, and you realize that they were skimmed over so quickly that it's tough to figure out what bad had happened, let alone care about it. This movie hits the colorful, charming, and fun notes remarkably well; but in order to be fully satisfying, a story needs the audience investment that serious drama brings. And while it's not lacking in it completely, it was frustrating when the movie ended, and I realized the film had only included us in half of David's experiences. We get a full sense of his happiness, but the trials are cut short and brushed aside. I grasped that Ben Whishaw was the movie's main villain in the same scene in which he's defeated. I had no time to care. Without the downs of a story, how can an audience fully appreciate the ups?

So it left me fully charmed, but only partially invested. And that's too bad, because while I like being charmed, it's getting into the nitty gritty of caring about the characters that ultimately most important to my falling in love with a story. Still, you can hardly blame The Personal History of David Copperfield for focusing in on what it did. It may have left me a little empty, but it clearly wanted to focus on the brighter side of everything and have fun, and that's what it did. All in all, its shortcomings left me wanting to read the book—and that's a compliment in itself. 

Annihilation

Spoilers.

From Alex Garland, the writer of one of my favorite movies, 28 Days Later. I wanted to be biased for this film.

Biologist Lena (Natalie Portman) goes through a mysterious shimmering wall in search of answers as to what it is and what it did to her husband Kane (Oscar Isaac). Lots of super weird things happen that are ostensibly explained through the imagery of a cell replicating and an overarching idea of biology blending inside "The Shimmer." In the end she more or less knows what happened to her husband due to some videos he shot while inside, and even gets him back, but overall the mystery is little more than an occasionally creepy or cool roller coaster of disappointments.

Whenever a Why is explained about The Shimmer, it's not a revelation. It's just ... "Oh ok."

I don't mind it out of principle. I'm totally okay with a movie not explaining itself, or using an umbrella explanation like "this unexplainable thing is making unexplainable things happen." I quite enjoyed it earlier this year when The Cloverfield Paradox utilized it. The two were received like polar opposites, but from my seat -- at home on my couch -- they're remarkably similar. Annihilation felt very much like a Netflix film -- in both the good way and the bad. Bad in that it was less than advertised, and good in that it was an original and well-assembled film.

It has practiced pacing, a slow increase of tension throughout, and a firm grip on how to build a quality moment. Each one gets ruined later of course. Sometimes preemptively through flash-forward interrogation scenes. It's like the exposition scenes are there because there was no confidence in the audience's ability to understand visual storytelling. The dialogue is reiteration of what we've seen but simplified; making it all feel mundane. But the curious moments in and of themselves work well. Disregarding the glaring soft white light, the cinematography is thoughtful and fits the style, and there are moments when the score is mesmerizing.

I presume the idea was the lights and colors were blended like everything in The Shimmer -- a neat idea in theory, but visually unpleasant. It gave an eye-ache. 

It's in the details that the movie most shows signs of life. Though many moments were ruined by the too-revealing trailer, including the return of the bear. Though it having Sheppard's voice was still a wonderfully disturbing feature. Also interesting: the guy who'd grown into the wall like a clicker from The Last of Us, the tree people, Kane's bear-rose tattoo, Lena's tattoo which appears on her arm and is also visible on Anya and Last of Us Dude; and the end sequence was extremely unusual to say the least. Things like the tattoos are just tidbits. Others like Dude and the trees are explained in ways that sucks out all the wonder while never satisfying your curiosity.

"Everything gets blended." Great, cool idea, but that's not an explanation, it's just a description of the result. Why? How? Is it good or bad? Why should we care? Scientific terms are used, but it's not challenging to understand. This movie was advertised like another Interstellar; promising mind-bending, science-y scifi. It spends half its time in exposition, but it never goes deeper than the main idea. I can't have my mind blown over the same thing twice, no matter how many times its illustrated. And they introduce many potentially strange things, only to explain them away in the same disengaging way over and over.

The rules were all-encompassing, so I accepted everything that happened unfazed.

The movie falters equally as a horror film, for the same reasons -- less than advertised, and lack of exploration leaves potentially disturbing elements as merely weird, so the terrifying things such as the bear are left as fleeting external threats. It's unclear if the alien being was meant to be viewed as a threat. Characters talk about it in an understanding way, but it's pattern is one of causing death, and the film ends with Lena tricking it into self-destructing instead of herself self-destructing for it. The Shimmer still exists inside Lena and Kane, so presumably it lives on -- but if it's a representation of self-destruction, isn't that bad?

"It wasn't destroying. It was making something new." "Making what?" "I don't know." That exchange sums up everything. We're meant to look at it positively but are given no reason why. Not even a vague one that invites interpretation. It seems to clash with the film's theme of self-destruction and replication. There's also a cancer thread that goes maddeningly unexplored. The movie only ever points out things; details that tie together into a meaningless theme. It's all very tidy and interesting, but at some point, I need satisfaction, and something concrete to hold on to.

"Kind of a lame movie." -- My Dad. It's not that it lacks the proper features; it just doesn't work them properly. 

As a drama, it's weird and very hit-or-miss. I liked what the actresses did to give an extra smidgen of personality to their characters, but the supporters are given one or two lines of exposition dialogue as their character development, and it doesn't go far. I liked Sheppard's quiet, matter-of-fact manner. And a clear thematic reason for all the cancer mentioned was missed. Oscar Isaac and Natalie Portman are good together. So good that I found it a stretch that she'd cheat on him. The idea is introduced that self-destruction is in our DNA, so she can't help it, but the ending was meant to counter that, I believe.

Never lacking something odd to look at, the main fault I have with Annihilation is that I looked hard for answers to the mysteries beneath the oddities, and the hidden intelligence I thought I'd been promised; I was prepared and ready to have my mind challenged, but I never found anything inside to interpret. It was all a pretty shell; and when laid bare, the fascination crumbles.

Doctor Strange

Spoilers are marked.

Marvel's latest origin film stars the unstoppable Benedict Cumberbatch as Doctor Stephen Strange, a highly skilled, highly sought-after, highly rich and highly pompous neurosurgeon. On top of his game and on top of the world, Strange's great life is obliterated in a single devastating moment. And while on a desperate journey to find healing, he finds so much more when he finds a mystic known as the Ancient One (Tilda Swinton) who expands his worldview -- and simultaneously the MCU -- into the vast realm of magic.

And I do mean vast.

Marvel it may be, but Marvel it certainly doesn't feel. Doctor Strange take a giant leap into the unexplored, leaving behind practically everything we know about the universe. It's very much its own movie; just as much as, say, Iron Man was, only Iron Man had the advantage of no canon to dictate to it. Strange is in such a different place from other Marvel flicks that it was free to do new things and set up its own world, and it takes great advantage of that.

There are three very small references that tie it to the preceding Marvel films, and besides that, my brain was having a hard time accepting it as being from Marvel at all. And I still like Marvel-y Marvel films, but it's great to know that the box can -- and has been -- broken out of. It's only the similar on a very base level in the story; the skeleton of a superhero origin. How it builds on that is, appropriately, all by its own rules.

Ugh, this photo! I never thought I would fall in love with Marvel cinematography in this way...

The first thing I noticed about it was the tone. And not that it's actually darker than other serious superheroes, but at the same time, it is. Literally. The color palette is dark, brown and muted with highlights of neon. The lighting is beautiful and minimal, with lots of silhouetting and scenes that seem barely lit at all, but are done expertly, to create and enhance an edgy darkness. Unexpectedly, handheld cameras are often used, which lends the film some earthy grit; a great counterbalance for the trippy, spacey psychedelics that pop up. The contrast of the shiny, crisp and sparkling magic with the deeply sturdy and grounded feel of the physical world is excellent. I applaud the filmmakers for going in that direction.

Director and co-writer Scott Derrickson is known for horror films, and while there's nothing very scary about Doctor Strange, the style translates very well. (That also accounts for an incredibly decent jump scare in the movie!) Writing is the one place where I wished for more. It's really not a negative because I know there will be more later in sequel films, but for now, the world isn't as explored as it should be. It's not overloaded, which is great, but I did feel slightly pandered to occasionally. I could have handled more, but the film needed to be accessible to even casual fans, and I think it hit the optimal middle ground. And I firmly believe that the film will improve in retrospect, once even more development is added to the characters and their worlds.

Fine actor makes for excellent character!

Segue: Characters! To be perfectly candid, I expected to not really care for Benedict Cumberbatch and his character in this film. Not that I don't like him or think him a bad actor, I had just seen too much of him recently. And I was feeling cynical and thinking he was probably only cast in the part because he looked like the character and was the hot new thing who everyone wants in their movie. But no -- he was excellently cast, and gives a practically mesmerizing performance as Stephen. There's lots of drama to handle, and he never takes it too far over the top where we viewers are unwilling to follow. The character arc is handled expertly; at first he's very reminiscent of Sherlock, which wasn't a great start for me with my cynicism, but that only made his elegant transition into zen and gentlemanly hero even more impressive. Also, he is a master at making his hands shake!

Basically, I liked her because of the two character's relationship.

Rachel McAdams as Christine, his ex and fellow doctor... I'm just not a fan of McAdams, so I can't help but think that almost anyone could have played the part, but she didn't annoy me nearly as bad as she has in other movies. I enjoy her more when she plays dislikeable characters, and Christine splits the line. She's complicated and her role as romantic interest stands on shaky ground, which is interesting. What won me over was the inscription on the watch she gave Stephen, and how much he values it.

Chiwetel Ejiofor. We all know he's great, but I admit I didn't know what his purpose was for a while, plot-wise. I liked his character, but wondered where he was headed. In the moment, it seemed like a negative, but his arc does complete to perfect satisfaction, so that everything about him makes sense. Now I'm eagerly anticipating more from him. On that note, the one thing I think maybe should have been done differently: the end credit scene was important to the closure of his arc -- too important, I think, to be left as the end-credit scene. Though I don't know where it should have gone... just know that I strongly recommend sticking around for it!

Great stuff from these two.

Tilda Swinton I enjoyed immensely! She held my attention so well, and was so fully immersed in her role -- a unique, thought-provoking, and moving character. She was a pleasure. Ejiofor's fellow cast mate from The Martian, Benedict Wong, was there, mostly for comic relief, and handled it splendidly. Mads Mikkelsen as the villain is perhaps slightly on the forgettable side -- another in a long line -- but it was appropriate that he just serve his purpose and then disappear; his villainy came before Stephen entered the life, and the story is told from Stephen's eyes. And Mikkelsen's performance was good and convincing. It worked.

The vagueness and mystery worked for him.

Like with the colors (dark, highlighted with neon) and the tone, (earthy, highlighted with dazzling psychedelics) this movie's comedy is an occasional extreme highlight; it's silly. And this is something that I honestly don't know what to think about. On one hand, it's a little jarring when the movie is so beautiful and muted and serious, and then all of a sudden has cute comic relief out from left field. On the other, it's not like it was shoehorned in; the story almost required it in some places. And it was genuinely funny. Sometimes a joke would come across so awkwardly, but then another layer would be added that made it funny again. There was also a little subtle humor that I appreciated more initially.

Maybe it's not a hundred percent my cup of tea, but I do think it works. It's odd -- it's Strange! -- but it's right. I may vaguely wonder if the goofy comedy was a self-conscious apology for making such a wacky story take itself so seriously, but deep down I think I understand that if the story had taken itself seriously without those highlights, I wouldn't have been able to be as invested in the seriousness. Instead, every time the silliness pulled me out of the movie's depths, I was even more eager to plunge back in. And it helped me to accept the inherent silliness in the plot. Like the scene on the balcony of the hospital, which was such a beautiful, beautiful scene -- visually and emotionally -- but there was a silliness to it too -- a silliness that by that point I had fully embraced.

This is just crazy.

Two more things that just impressed the stuffing right out of me: (this paragraph gets a little spoilery!) In the climax, I was absolutely flabbergasted and amazed to find that it rode on smarts instead of action! Almost unheard of for Marvel movie, but there you have it. And even more unheard of, collateral damage? Destruction? Zero. Zero! There was no destruction in the end. But it was just as involving -- if not more -- as any superhero flick with destruction. I loved that. I am so impressed and happy at that clever change-up. (End Spoilers)

I started out this review thinking this film was excellent -- technically exceptional, and practically flawless, and not quite my kind of movie. It made me laugh, it made me think, it made me grin gleefully at the screen and feel the heartbreak of its characters alike, but I was sure I wouldn't fall in love with it until after a sequel, like it has been with so many other Marvel films. But, as I wrote about the few flaws they morphed into praiseworthy aspects, and as I wrote about all the little moments I expected to someday treasure, I found myself treasuring them already.

And eager for more magic from Marvel!

This was not a story that I was determined to love because of a certain character or actor or story line that I was biased towards. Doctor Strange is wholly new, and I knew it would need time. It snuck up on me, with its subtly welcoming heart, cool beauty, and jarring highlights of total craziness, and has since sunk right into my heart. I was going to quote the movie and say "Doctor Strange, 'time will tell how much I love you,'" but... it already has.