The Future (2011)

  
Quirky, hipster dramedies have no place on Cerebral Coitus. Allow me to argue why The Future might well be an exception.

If mindfuckiness could be expressed on a scale of 1 - 10, 1 being not mindfucky at all and 10 being really mindfucky, then The Future, at the very most, would score a 2.75. I'd say it averages on a 1.874 though. Oh goodness, I'm not doing a very good job of arguing my point here. But that is kind of OK, because neither does The Future.

All levity aside, this is one of those movies that are so vague and broad that you could more or less read anything you wanted into it. While there are some strong themes there, even those can be interpreted in any number of ways. On the surface, the movie says a lot about the fickle way in which we perceive time. No, no. Don't start getting excited. It's simply a point about perspective, and not some hardout sci-fi nonsense, although there is a little bit of that in the mix also.

There are a lot of films out there about people having midlife crises, but none that I've seen that present them in such an agreeable and relatable fashion. This is really a huge compliment, because the two lead characters are decidedly unlikeable. Boundlessly self-absorbed and very childlike, I couldn't help but feel an urge to beat their faces in until all that sickly naiveté bled out of them. It is quite surprising, and a real accomplishment for the movie's story telling, that even regardless of my feelings about the leads I enjoyed it as much as I did.

Writing about a film like this is not something I relish because before I finish each paragraph there's 5 more things that pop into my head that I could write about. Technology, change / periods of transition, passion versus comfort in a relationship, self-image and self-perception, passage of time, and how we choose what occupies our own respective headspaces are all things that the movie strongly addresses amongst a host of other stuff, by using two characters who would not be all that out of place in Napoleon Dynamite. It's certainly a strange recipe that for the most part actually works. The problem with using such broadstrokes is that nothing really stands out - it talks a bit about how different perspectives on the same issue will result in different outcomes, and that was about 3 lines of dialogue, and then the film moved on. It really stuck out to me personally, because it resonated with something completely unrelated that I was thinking about at the time.

It's such an unrestricted amalgamation of themes, a conglomerate of everyday thoughts and feelings. Unfocused, and filled with both the minute detail and the pretentiously grandiose. Show this film to 100 people, and you'll have 100 very different takes on it. This is both fittingly ironic and a little annoying because this movie isn't about how it makes you feel, and what it makes you think, it's completely the other way around; whatever is in your head at the time you watch it is what the movie will end up being about. Take that as you will.

Kill List (2011)

  
A fantastic looking, off beat British film about hitpeople that is very much worth a watch for its skilful build-up of mystery and a very genuine sense of paranoia. It never gets paid off, and leaves the viewer frustrated on several levels, but even after a disappointing climax you can't help but appreciate the tease that preceded it.

But all that can wait. I don't often have a reason to write about the audio mix of a movie, but something really needs to be said about this one. There's quite a lot of dialogue between the two leads, and they have great chemistry - they will often interrupt one another, or start talking before the other has really finished. Basically, there's a lot of overlapping dialogue. It doesn't jump out at you, it's fairly subtle, but it's wonderful that it's there.

It's a bit tiring that in every movie, every scene, there's perfectly mixed audio meticulously delivered by the actor. Films that try to be as gritty and realistic as possible in every way make zero effort when it comes to talking. No umms, uhs, or errrs. Not a misspoken syllable. Why?

This line of thinking made me remember a movie I've seen a while back called Cold Weather. Most of the dialogue is improvised, and it shows, and it's great. It really adds a certain element to the movie that, if warranted, makes it much more better. I was quite surprised to find that apparently there is a subgenre of filmmaking, called mumblecore. Or something. Apparently, mumblecore films are where the characters don't speak clearly.

While Pulp Fictionese can be great, and indeed a vital aspect of a movie, the fact that I have to rack my brain to come up with more examples of naturalistic dialogue is kind of sad. I mean, you're getting blown to bits by enemy soldiers/aliens/zombies, the least you could do is stutter a bit every once in a while. While I understand a writer's need to show off their poetry in profoundly written dialogue, if a movie is striving for a certain atmosphere the dialogue should reflect this also. It grinds my gears when a director is clearly at odds with what's in the script and we end up with a sort of shitty compromise in a disconnect between the screenwriter and everyone else.

A movie that hit a pretty good balance is The Bourne Identity and it's sequels. The dialogue is somewhat underwritten, which is a great plus in this case, and increasingly difficult to find in mainstream cinema, and delivered in such a cool way. And 'cool way' is about as indepth as I'll get with this particular analysis, as I just realised I really haven't said anything about Kill List yet.

To digress from this 300 word tangent, my main issue with Kill List is the terrible ending. There is an overarching conspiracy that will have most people salivating throughout the film, and then the last stretch completely loses it. There is also a bit of a genre detour where this tight thriller becomes a bit of a surreal horror, and it feels very out of place; but whatever, I can go with that. What I cannot abide is the illogical and open to interpretation ending, whereby the term 'open to interpretation' is synonymous with 'lazy ass writing'.

I am no stranger to filmmakers laughing in my face and exclaiming 'LOL I ain't telling you just because' and that's fine; in most cases, while relatively annoying, it does in the end enhance the experience. In this case it is blatantly used as an easy out. Virtually every set up from the beginning of the movie remains unresolved and unaddressed.

Unfortunately, in retrospect, it does kind of lessen the merits of the movie because I can't help but think that the writer put together this mystery, and that's all it is: a mystery. There is nothing behind the curtain, just more curtain. And if you keep on trying to peek through it, you'll eventually find the writer scratching his head, trying to give meaning to his mess.

Having said all that, I do recommend the movie because the journey it takes you on, completely bogus as it might be, is still worth experiencing. And until you do reach the ending where it goes a little bit tits up, you'll find a remarkably well put together little film, that is by all means brilliant - just don't expect any catharsis.