Happy Friday, friends! Cheers to the weekend.
Four months into quarantine got me like
Let me just say, with coronavirus cases on the rise again, there has truly never been a better time to stay at home and watch some movies. Luckily, there is truly an embarrassment of riches now available in your home this week (and has kept me very busy this week). And I haven’t even had a chance to catch up with Greyhound, the Tom Hanks World War II movie that’s now on Apple TV+, or We Are Little Zombies, a Japanese coming-of-age movie which has been winning over festival crowds and is now available on VOD!
If you want something action-packed, head to Netflix for The Old Guard, which is just as good as anything filling multiplex screens. While I still think it falls into a number of clichéd genre trappings, it notably bears the stamp of director Gina Prince-Bythewood — the first Black woman to helm a big-budget action movie. It’s worth watching alone for how effortlessly she incorporates the kind inclusion and representation that studios can only clunkily tack on to their own product. I get into this and more in my review of the film on The Playlist.
If you want something scary, check out Relic (out on VOD) — it’s that high-quality brand of prestige horror that explores the genre’s superior capability for metaphor without sacrificing the thrills.
If you want something dramatic yet pleasant, mooo-ve on over to First Cow (available on VOD as well as to rent through Film at Lincoln Center, if you’d rather support an indie theater than Jeff Bezos). This is such a gentle yet probing look at the early days of American enterprise out west, piercing in its insights and powerful in its humanity. I waxed poetic about it in my review from last year’s New York Film Festival for /Film, and let’s just say there’s more to come from me on this special work…
If you want something boundary-pushingly cinematic, take a chance on Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets (available to rent through Film at Lincoln Center). This is such an interesting curio: though it’s a documentary “about” the last night of a bar on the outskirts of Vegas, it was shot with an assembled cast of actors in New Orleans. What it might lack in actuality, it makes up for in authenticity. If any of this piques your curiosity, I’d recommend giving it a try. If you have any lingering doubts, maybe start by checking out my conversation with directors Bill and Turner Ross on Slant Magazine.
If you want to help the country, did you think I was going to recommend another movie? PSYCH. It’s just me doing the usual plug for donation matching! My employer is matching donations to a number of justice-oriented organizations (all of which are listed and described in this nifty spreadsheet). Make your money go twice as far by noting your organization of choice in a Venmo payment (@marSHAffer).
But, anyways, there’s still even one more new release today for me to recommend!
Now, what you came for…
DAY 120: Palm Springs (available on Hulu)
If you want something that’s funny, provocative, intelligent, creative, cynical, heartwarming … really, anything, then you owe it to yourself to watch Palm Springs. This is really the perfect movie for the quarantine era given the way it explores how people react when they feel like time is non-existent and their choices can do little to affect the world surrounding them. I won’t say too much more about the narrative conceit at the center of the film because the less you know, the more fun you’re liable to have.
But it’s likely you might have seen this film compared to Groundhog Day. That’s mostly because they circle similar stylistic territory, though I’d argue they are comparable in quality, too. (This is coming after I’ve now watched the film roughly three times — more on this in the future.) While Bill Murray’s Phil Connors in Groundhog Day must learn how to live harmoniously with the community around him in his predicament, the two main characters of Palm Springs must learn to live with themselves. Andy Samberg’s Nyles and Cristin Milioti’s Sarah are two borderline depressive and alcoholic guests at a wedding neither of them really wants to attend. In their shared misery and hopelessness, the two form a bond by finding creative ways to embrace what they see as the meaningless onslaught of life.
Their antics are a joy to watch because there’s a genuine spark between the two leads as they explore the bounds and possibilities of pure hedonism. But some cleverly timed reveals in Palm Springs force Nyles and Sarah to face the music of how their pleasure-seeking pursuits are a strategy to avoid confronting their deep self-loathing. We experience this most acutely through the character of Nyles, soulfully and skillfully portrayed by Samberg. I think we’ve really underestimated his talents as an earnest leading man simply because he’s so genius at playing goofy. Samberg is quick to make himself the butt of any joke on screen, but he’s not afraid to give us a glimpse of the bruising that attitude leaves behind on him. In Palm Springs, he shows he’s equally adept at selling an extended gag with physical humor as he is at delivering a heartfelt, vulnerable speech.
There’s more than meets the eye to Samberg’s performance, just as there is to Palm Springs in its entirety. Somehow, this is a “high concept” comedy that I can describe as both deceptively simple and deceptively complex. It’s a light, breezy and altogether enjoyable watch, but you can go deeper below the surface and find more intricacy than you might expect. In other words, there are many reasons not only to watch Palm Springs but also to rewatch it. (What else do we have to do? The quarantine is young, and there are worse ways to spend time!)
Be good to yourselves and to each other,
Marshall