12 Years A Slave

Last year, Quentin Tarantino’s Django Unchained was both controversial and praised for its unflinching depiction of slavery. I loved the film myself, but clearly, it was exaggerated and historically haphazard. For all its violence, it still had familiar genre tropes more palatable to the audience than the realities of slavery in America, as well as the security blanket of violent Hollywood retribution so they could leave the theater happy. But the fact that it was lauded for that is telling about how movies have depicted slavery. There have been portrayals cruel enough to get the point across, but never one that really shows the true extent of its brutality.

12 Years A Slave stands out as much for doing just that as it does on its own merits (which are many). It adheres to no comfortable archetypes, and slavery is the focus instead of a backdrop to another story. Overreaching elements like the politics of the day or historical events like Underground Railroad and the lead-up to the Civil War aren’t even mentioned. This is an intimate and very personal account of slavery, and more poignant for that.

Adapting the memoirs of Solomon Northup, a free black and educated musician from New York who was kidnapped and sold into slavery in 1841, was a great choice for several reasons. Obviously, there’s the authenticity of a true story. Also, the kidnapping of Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) not only shows a side of the slave trade many might not know about, but also casts him as an outsider to whom the world of slavery is introduced as bluntly as to the viewer (not that the story of someone born into it would have necessarily been any less affecting). Most of all, it’s not a full biography of the man, but a collection of episodes from his time in bondage, episodes the movie depicts without diluting a bit.

Some are graphic and visceral. Some are obscured or implied to happen off-camera. Director Steve McQueen, an acclaimed artist as well as a filmmaker, constructs scenes with the eye of the former role. Every shot, color, sound, and actor's face are equal and essential parts of rich cinematic canvases, perfectly in unison to elicit the most feeling. If they were positive feelings, you could say it’s beautiful (and some of the lush, colorful naturalistic cinematography is beautiful, in contrast to the gloomy desaturation so common in “realistic” pictures). But instead, it makes every trauma as painful as possible. Whether you actually see it or not, it’s hard to watch.

Other times, it doesn’t even need to show the characters’ torment to get the point across. McQueen the filmmaker creates a suffocating atmosphere where Ejiofor and his fellow captives could be beaten or killed for making one mistake, saying one wrong word, or even just giving the wrong look. Just the idea it might happen creates a tension as frightening as an intense horror movie, only without the release of a scare now and then.

There are simply evil white men in the picture, no doubt. Quite memorable is Michael Fassbender as Northup’s second master, a psychopath who takes pleasure in whippings and lustfully rapes his slave girl (Lupita Nyong'o, fantastic and heartbreaking). Same goes for Sarah Paulson as his wife, who spitefully doles out punishment to Nyong'o at every turn. But arguably more effective than their simple sadism are scenes where horrible, shocking images—naked slaves being inspected and sold like meat, or beaten like unruly animals by traders or plantation overseers—are accepted by whites as business as usual. More effective because it shows just how entrenched this evil was.

Even one of the two decent white men in the picture, a Baptist minister (Benedict Cumberbatch) who first buys Northup, is still a part of it. Though he’s more humane and even helps Northup escape certain death, it’s clear he sees his captive as lesser, like prized livestock instead of a human being. The other, a Canadian builder (Brad Pitt), offers the moral argument against slavery, and comes off less like the abolitionist perspective of the day (though—SPOILER!—his words are apparently pretty accurate) than today’s (seemingly very obvious) view on bondage. His words are met with derision by Fassbender, mirroring how astoundingly insane the arguments for enslaving humans the slave owner's words represent sound today.

Ejiofor is an absolute godsend in the picture. He makes the audience feel every trial Northup goes through, both his physical debasement and the emotional pain of losing all hope of freedom or seeing his family again. But the fact that he manages to maintain some self-worth and humanity, let alone dignity, through such loss is almost like a miracle. It’s more than just a great performance; it makes not just Northup’s story seem more incredible, but also the fact that American heroes like Frederick Douglass or Harriet Tubman emerged from such an institution.

This work is one of supreme humanity. Mind you, much of it is the worst of humanity, and necessarily cruel and unflinching in its depiction. But that makes the positives even more powerful. This is a film for the ages, both a gripping and real piece of history, and as a portrait of how powerful and resilient the human spirit can be.

South Park, "A Song of Ass and Fire"

George R.R. Martin is on record speaking against the plot device of a deus ex machina, and yet on tonight’s episode, the author gave us exactly that to resolve the whole Black Friday video game console war brewing in South Park.

Okay, it wasn’t really him, just a caricature voiced by Trey Parker or Matt Stone (I couldn’t quite tell which, but it sounded like every other celebrity who’s appeared on the show in parody). And the solution he offered didn’t wrap up anything, just kicked the whole conflict down the road. All the way to a week after Thanksgiving, to be exact, at least on the show (could this mean the show itself won’t resolve this story until after Turkey Day has passed?).

There’s no resolution here, just lots of posturing and alliances formed between different parties (complete with Bill Gates and a generic Japanese head of Sony appearing as scheming power figures), as well as betrayals within their ranks and, of course, some very gratuitous banging. I kind of want to watch Game of Thrones now, not just to get the references in this episode better, but also because mentally juggling all the factions just on this show put my brain to work just a little bit. Such puzzling plotting sounds quite captivating, and this is just a spoof of it.

Aside from the parody, this one features a few repeating bits showing how to make a running joke without beating the humor out of it. One is Cartman’s scheming in a angry neighbor’s garden. It’s a pretty obvious and a repetitive joke, and doesn’t even try to pretend it’s not making the same one over and over again. And yet I laughed at it every time. Another is the fake Martin’s perceived obsession with male genitalia, which is carried over to the end but changes the joke up just enough each time so it stays funny (its final stop, the choir scene, was some perfect combination of juvenile and brilliant).

Another great moment was the revelation of the true relationship between two people taking part in said banging. Not sure if this was based on a plot point from Game of Thrones or not, though I got a feeling it was just a throwaway gag birthed in Stone and Parker’s dirty minds. The highbrow in me feels a little bad that my biggest laugh of the episode came from this instead of one of the more thought-out bits, but hey, it took me by surprise. It wasn’t as funny or nearly as clever as last week’s out-of-nowhere Elmo doll joke, but the randomness and dirtiness struck a chord with the immature teenager in me.

South Park, "Black Friday"

I’m guessing that this was the first episode of a two-parter, or maybe even more than that.

As I’m writing this, I’ve yet to find any definitive verification. But the fact that it ended before we even got to see Thanksgiving come to South Park, let alone the eponymous Black Friday that the story was building towards, is a pretty obvious hint that the story’s not over. If I’m proven wrong, I’ll correct myself (and I must say if that's the case, Trey Parker and Matt Stone are just a little evil), but I’m sticking to my theory until I’m proven wrong.

I had to point that out because the problem with two-or-more-episode arcs is that it’s a little hard to judge just one part. The first part could show promise that the latter entries fail to live up to. Last week showed how a smart or clever idea could fizzle over the course of just a single episode.

So far, though, I like what I’ve seen. I haven’t watched a minute of Game of Thrones, so I can’t comment too much on the cleverness or accuracy of the parody of that show, and some of the jokes might have gone over my head. But the rudimentary knowledge of the fantasy series I do have allowed me to catch enough of them, from the broader, more obvious ones (Butters’ hilarious fixation on the show’s sex scenes), to the more subtle (Randy’s line “You can’t die! Everybody really likes you!” seemed like a reference to the show’s high body count).

I don’t doubt I’d have enjoyed the episode more if I had seen Game of Thrones. Having not seen it, however, the element that most resonated with me was the way it was like an acerbic antidote to the average holiday special. I mean, Black Friday is undoubtedly (and sadly) as much a tradition as Thanksgiving itself, but not one that’s really been addressed on television shows. By depicting it with the grim weight and gravity of the buildup to an epic battle, the show appears to be making a sly comment on the sheer ridiculousness of the whole thing, (and they’re right: it is ridiculous, people going crazy and even turning violent over commercial merchandise).

The Game of Thrones stuff dates this episode in this moment in time, as does the amusing plot point of factions dividing over the choice of Xbox One or PlayStation 4 (years from now, this will be one of those touches where viewers say “Hey, I remember that!”, like some elements in older episodes that were current when they first aired). But the Black Friday commentary could have staying power as long as people pack the malls and stores the day after Thanksgiving (at least, with the right ending it can). And that very naughty Elmo doll is both timeless and current, and so wrong and so mean that I almost had tears from laughter.

One last thought: Until it became clear this story would be longer than one episode, I wondered why they were doing a Thanksgiving-themed entry with two weeks left before the holiday. Now there are two Wednesdays before Thanksgiving Day to wrap up this arc. It could be two parts followed by an off week, could be an epic three-part story like the Coon saga a few years back…or could there be another crappy Terrance and Philip special before the conclusion on the eve of Turkey Day? I don’t think Stone and Parker are really evil, but we know they’re capable of pulling a mean fast one like that. It’s just a matter of whether or not they want to reuse the same gag.

Thor: The Dark World

Thor, to me, was the weakest entry in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. One reason for this was it played too much like a culture clash comedy. Humor’s been an appealing element of the Marvel films, but it had a little too much in that department. But the biggest flaw was that it felt like little more than a primer for The Avengers. The title hero (Chris Hemsworth) and his villainous brother Loki’s (Tom Hiddleston) story didn’t really get going until near the end of Thor, and played out in The Avengers. That might have been necessary from a storytelling standpoint, but it made the thunder god’s debut seem like the movie equivalent of a comic book tie-in issue, which the rest of the Marvel heroes’ own pictures were not.

There were other problems with the movie, but these were the two that really sunk the whole thing for me. Thor: The Dark World fixes the big problems, at least, and is a substantial improvement over its predecessor.

Set some time after The Avengers, the movie catches up with our hero just after bringing peace to the Nine Realms (I’m not sure what that means, but it has to do with Norse mythology). But back on Earth, Thor’s love interest Jane Foster (Natalie Portman) becomes possessed by a destructive force with the power to engulf the universe in darkness. Her find awakens the evil Malekith (Christopher Eccleston), leader of the Dark Elves and an ancient enemy of Asgard, who renews his war against Thor’s home realm. To stop him, Thor and his companions are forced to team up with Loki, who's imprisoned for his attempted invasion of Earth.

It doesn’t fix everything, and some of the same foibles from the first one carried over. There’s still the loaded, bombastic dialogue that basically spells out the whole plot for us, and some of the same wooden and one-note characters. And on top of the plastic-looking Viking armor, we also get bad makeup jobs for Eccleston and his second-in-command Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje. As in “the worst we’ve seen from Star Trek” bad (probably why all the other Dark Elves wear identical masks). But most of all, it’s just hard to buy the inherent ridiculousness of the whole storyline. I realize it’s rather finicky to believe and go along with some fantastical hero stories but criticize this one for being too dopey. Yet, here I am. The extensive but not-so serious mythological plot and aesthetic emits a low-grade Tolkien vibe that's hard to shake off (maybe I’m spoiled by Peter Jackson’s movies and can’t help but instinctively compare all fantasy fare to them).

But as I said, the most major problems were rectified. The humor is still plentiful, coming from the main cast as well as supporting players like Kat Dennings and Stellan Skarsgård (as well a few great—and I do mean great—cameos). This time it’s actually funny, not intrusive (or I just expected it this time and was more forgiving), even when it turns the final climactic showdown into a goofy zigzagging action piece. Speaking of which, there actually are action scenes, which Thor lacked, and as good as any we’ve gotten from Marvel so far.

Most importantly, this is Thor’s movie, not a buildup for something else. Beyond the cheesy epic grandeur and greater Marvel mythology, it’s at its heart a self-contained little adventure yarn that’s a lot of fun. That much is enough, but it even gives us some interesting character evolution. At least it does for Loki, who over three movies has gone from merely a powerful smartass to a more interesting and ambiguous baddie. He’s definitely the most interesting one in the picture (poor Thor, merely a promotional primer in his first title and upstaged in his second), and I hope Hiddleston still plays a role in the Marvel film canon going forward.

Despite being a sequel, Thor: The Dark World is the first real full Thor picture, the one the character deserved. Better late than never.

South Park, "Ginger Cow"

This episode has a pretty lofty target for commentary: the religious conflict in the Middle East. But the satire has all the effectiveness of stepping to the plate against a Major League pitcher with a toothpick. Which is to say, none whatsoever.

It all starts when the title creature (a cow with a red afro and freckle-like spots) appears in South Park. It’s really a trick pulled by Cartman, but Christians, Muslims, and Jews around the world take it as a sign, and end all conflict over Israel. Kyle knows the truth and becomes something of a depraved martyr (looking, intentional or not, a lot like the David Blaine cultists in the still-banned episode “Super Best Friends”) to keep it a secret.

Before I go on, I have a small confession to make: I’ve never really been a fan of the episode “Ginger Kids” or the running joke in the series that stemmed from it. I know, the joke seems to have transcended the program and entered the mainstream (you could call it a meme, but I’d argue it entered pop culture before memes really exploded online), but I just never really thought it was all that funny. But the whole Ginger Cow prophecy is actually clever and funny, both as a plot device and an extension of the joke. However, it appears they came up with this plot point and couldn’t find anywhere to really go with it.

The episode’s recurring dirty gag—a fart joke that’s crude enough but kind of tame by the standards of the last few seasons—fails to work as an effective piece of satire. And yes, the show can make great allegory out of the sexual and scatological on its best days. But this wasn’t one of those days.

One scene in which the three major religions negotiate how they can kill each other had me thinking the episode was going to make some statement on the recent debate over what weapons can be used in Syria. Turns out I was thinking too hard; after that scene, all the three faiths do is attend a Van Halen concert, which feels a lot like Trey Parker and Matt Stone ran out of ideas and just threw in some songs they heard on the radio so the episode would make its deadline. I kept waiting and waiting for some great, stinging plot twist to come from all this. The ending we got was ironic and somewhat amusing compared to the rest of the episode, though still rather toothless.

Said fart joke was funny for a little while, at least (it helps that one scene features Mr. Mackey, who for whatever reason always gets me). And having Kyle translate Israeli rabbis (who are actually speaking English in heavy accents) was one of those moments where the show gets so politically incorrect that you can’t help but laugh, despite feeling a little bad about it. But overall, a few light chuckles is all we got here. It’s too bad this episode wasn’t the one that got delayed; maybe with another week, they could have fleshed out a much better narrative to go along with the Ginger Cow idea.

Ender's Game

Looking for a light, fun sci-fi action adventure with lots and lots of space battles and visual effects? Well, Ender’s Game is not the film you’re looking for. That’s not to say there isn’t any of that in the movie, but there’s more going on here. Darker stuff, actually, despite all the flashy visuals and sparkly clean future aesthetic on display.

Adapted from the multiple award-winning 1985 novel by Orson Scott Card, the movie takes place in the far future, 50 years after humanity repelled an invasion by an insect-like race called the Formics. Afterward, the world powers of the International Fleet began training the best and brightest (not to mention most brutal) children to lead the fight against this enemy. After all this is described in a short prologue, the story follows title character Andrew “Ender” Wiggin (Asa Butterfield), a shy outcast child with brilliant skills in war games, as he travels to battle school (on a giant space station orbiting Earth) and is groomed to become a commander. He thrives at the school’s battle drills and simulations, but will his conscience get in the way of his abilities to lead a real battle?

That appears to be the main thematic question, and the tone is so heavily militaristic that it seemingly leans decisively toward one side of the moral spectrum of violence and warfare. Card’s book is recommended reading for the U.S. Marines, and though I haven’t read it, it’s easy to see why from what made it to the screen. The battle school is run like a boot camp, but with less grueling physical drills and more strategic study. Yet the outcome of breaking down the participants and molding them into hardened fighters is the same. Butterfield credibly gets molded from meek but brilliant to ruthless, all the more effective because his ruthlessness is so understated that he even still seems nice and personable. The people in charge—played by acclaimed actors Viola Davis, Ben Kingsley, and Harrison Ford (unrecognizable from his usual righteous hero roles, and the closest thing to an antagonist in the picture)—are effectively sinister faces of the military machine. The fact that they’re all adults while the students are just kids is a pretty on-the-nose metaphor for loss of childhood innocence. We don’t get to know most of the students very well, but that might just be the point, emphasizing the dehumanization aspect.

It could have been a lot more disturbing in this exploration, but the movie doesn’t quite cross that threshold. There are two reasons for this, I believe. First, it’s a science fiction story where the enemies are aliens (and buggy ones at that), so though these themes still work, they’re categorically less potent than if it were about killing other humans. Second, the film is aiming for the teen young adult demographic, not looking to tell a complex psychological story. So while the plot’s meditation on militarism and violence is always apparent, it's still possible to push it aside.

Should you do that, you’re left with a well made and entertaining movie with a likable young cast. Director Gavin Hood manages to make the action exciting, even though it mostly consists of training exercises and battles that are apparently simulated. The special effects vary from good to just adequate, but this works because it highlights the aspect that all the battles are games. Some of the younger actors are obviously less experienced, but most do pretty well.

The only real flaw is that it’s clearly meant to be the first film in a franchise (the novel already has several sequels), and it feels as if the underlying implication is that the best is yet to come. Seeing Ender’s training but no real battles is like playing through the tutorial part of a video game and not getting to play any of the levels. Plus, the ending takes a turn that’s a bit confusing, knowingly so to implore the audience to come back for the next entry. But after this solid first entry, I won’t mind coming back again.