The Last President of the U.S.?

FAHRENHEIT 11/9 (2018)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

At first glance, "Fahrenheit 11/9" contains all the familiar Michael Moore documentary tropes: Moore's sardonic voice-over; mixture of fact and fiction (Trump's FBI arrest through magical CGI); a rundown of historical comparative logic with today's political atmosphere; Flint, Michigan (his hometown) in continuing crisis, etc. When you watch a Michael Moore documentary today, it is less documentary and more of a higher-budgeted cinematic editorial that aims to condense a lot of recent events into some meaningful thesis on where we are in the world. What is far more apparent is Moore's anger this time around, his anger at the current political climate and at Trump's ascendance as President of the United States. "Fahrenheit 11/9" is an angry film that is also flawed in its wild theories (the trailer proposes that Trump will be our last President) - it is a companion piece to Moore's controversial 2004 "Fahrenheit 9/11" but it is also less successful at forming reasonable conclusions.

In typical Moore's Theory of the Absurd that starts the film (after we see the liberals' crying disappointment of Hillary Clinton's loss of the presidency to you know who), we are asked to believe singer Gwen Stefani is to blame for Trump's Presidential win. What? Yep, since Trump discovered that Gwen was taking home a bigger paycheck for NBC's "The Voice" than he was for the same network's "The Apprentice," Trump decided to run for President, presumably to build his brand! Huh? I don't buy it. Then we segue to primaries where potential presidential candidate Bernie Sanders might have had a chance if the Democratic voters at the DNC were not so clearly on Hillary's side (I am not going to stoke those fires).

Most displeasing and accentuated with far greater anguish is the Flint Water Crisis in Flint, Michigan, where the water showed extraordinarily high levels of lead in its supply. Starting in April 2014, Flint had hazardous chemicals in the water that many unsuspecting residents were drinking from. In order to cut down on costs, the city of Flint switched to a local river where the water was cloudy-looking and smelled like raw sewage. General Motors ran into problems using the water since it rusted machine parts (eventually, the city switched to a healthier water route but only for GM). Then there is an alleged falsifying of reports by a former Health Department official. To make matters worse, former President Obama attended Flint and pretended to drink a glass of water in front of a crowd of Flint residents! (Note: As of early 2017, President Trump claims he bestowed Flint the $100 million grant to resolve the crisis and fix the pipes when in fact it took less than two years for the Water Infrastructure Improvements for the Nation Act of 2016 to be implemented, a measure passed by Congress and signed into law by former President Obama. According to this film, Obama simply took a drink of water and split without aiding Flint.)

"Fahrenheit 11/9" is often riveting and exasperating, covering a lot of ground into President Trump's excesses and lack of ideology. In addition to brief clips of the late 90's "The Roseanne Show" where Moore and Trump were guests or the various photos of Moore with Jared Kushner and others, there is also much ado about the Parkland school shooting and how these ambitious, surviving teens of that unfortunate massacre may in fact cause a real dent for the better in our future (though it looks like Progressive congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is the shining beacon we may have to consider). Some of this is emotionally powerful (a sneak peek into Charlottesville also speaks volumes) and Moore knows how push the right buttons. Unfortunately, he sometimes sidelines his punchiest episodes for outright fabrications based on bad taste such as hinting at an incestuous nature between Trump and his lovely daughter, Ivanka (not to say that some of the Donald's past televised comments weren't inappropriate but even Bill Maher has stopped joking about it). My least favorite segment (and boy, speaking of beating a dead horse) is the left-wing conspiracy theory about how Trump is our future Hitler, featuring footage of Hitler speaking Trump's words and vice-versa. I do not buy that for a second - Moore is more reasonable in asserting that Trump is a showman, a television personality with a huckster's charm who has slowly turned into a raging bull parody of himself. That I can believe. This may be, for all intents and purposes, nothing more than a put-on, an act of Trump deceiving the public into thinking he cares about them. That I can also believe. But our President is no dictator who has gone to war or has kept certain minorities in internment camps (leaving aside the current illegal immigration debacle) - whether or not he actually becomes a dictator (despite his respect for other dictator leaders) remains to be seen but we are thankfully not there yet.

"Fahrenheit 11/9" is perversely fascinating and incredibly entertaining, in the best tradition of Michael Moore's semi-documentary political juggernauts. It is also his most uneven film yet never less than incendiary. Moore has always been a huckster as well and maybe it takes a huckster to recognize another.  

First Audacious, Mind-Bending Love Story of the 21st century

THE ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Originally viewed on March 27th, 2004

Father: "Hey gang! Let's go see the latest Jim Carrey flick at the local multiplex!" 

Son: "Oh, cool. Do you mean the sequel to 'The Mask'?" 

Father: "Nope, son, it is called 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'." 

Son: "Thanks anyway, Dad. I'll sneak in to see anything but that. I'll check out the new 'Agent Cody Banks' movie."

"The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is the loopiest, most mind-bending romantic comedy film I've ever seen. Loopy and romantic? Does this bring up memories of Adam Sandler's similarly loopy foray into P.T. Anderson's world in "Punch-Drunk Love"? Perhaps, but "Eternal Sunshine" will make you so mad, sad, happy and into such a romantic fool that you'll want to reunite with the ex-girlfriend you truly loved. It is the first truly audacious romantic comedy of the 21st century, guaranteed to keep your spirits high. Here's why.

Jim Carrey is Joel, a greeting card writer, who decides one day to skip work and head to Montauk Point, New York. It is February and snowing, but he still walks on the beach. He finds a woman with blue hair named Clementine (Kate Winslet) who despises the old Huckleberry Hound song. She also hates how Joel continually uses the word "nice" to describe everything. Eventually, Joel is invited to Clementine's apartment, and a romance blossoms. Suddenly, we shift to Valentine's Day where Joel is having a crying fit. Does he suffer from depression? No, it seems that Clementine has totally ignored him, appearing as if she never heard of him. And she also has a boyfriend! What is going on here? So Joel decides to wipe her from his memory and goes to a local clinic called Lacuna, Inc., which specializes in erasing any specific memory. The main doctor of the clinic is the reserved Dr. Howard Mierzwiak (Tom Wilkinson), who operates on one's mind rather cryptically. When asked if there could be brain damage, the doctor replies, "Technically speaking, it is brain damage." Nevertheless, Joel undergoes the procedure, firstly by bringing every object that reminds him of Clementine. Then it is on to the actual procedure itself where he has some apparatus strapped to his head while two assistants (both hilariously played by Mark Ruffalo and Elijah Wood) handle laptop computers and cables. Kirsten Dunst is the stoned secretary who has a thing for Ruffalo.

The film is actually something rather rare in modern times - a visual mindscape into Jim Carrey's mind. We see Joel reliving his past moments of glory and misery with Clementine, and sometimes Joel inserts her into his childhood past. The procedure of erasing her deepens and manifests itself in rather strange sights, such as Joel imagining himself as a kid under his mother's kitchen table; the doctors and his assistants morphing into faceless robots; cars falling from the sky and crashing; the disappearance of one setting morphing into another, such as Joel's bed in the snowy beach; Joel's couch immersed in rain; Joel and Clementine at their favorite spot, the frozen Charles River, that gradually morphs into the Grand Central station, and so on. The film is the equivalent of a diabolically clever chase picture into someone's thought processes - Joel's intent is to run after Clementine and have his memory of her restored in memories where she never existed. Of course, the good doctor and his assistants are puzzled that the procedure is taking so long. Have they never realized how complex the human mind is?

As written by the innovative Charlie Kaufman ("Being John Malkovich") and directed with a frolicking hand-held immediacy by Michel Gondry, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is the romantic comedy I've been waiting for - the dizzying, dreamlike kind. But aside from honest dialogue and dazzlingly constructed images, "Eternal Sunshine" is a meditation on the crazy nature of falling in and out of love, and how the memories should linger and not be erased. We see Kaufman's humor in subtle touches, particularly the other participants of this unusual memory loss experiment (one has a box of everything that reminds her of her dog)! Joel brings two garbage bags full of stuff - a funny sight indeed. But what is more evocative is the emotional center of the film - the topsy-turvy relationship between Joel and Clementine. Joel argues about her constantly changing hair color, her moods, her talkativeness, her supposed inability to bring up a child. Clementine argues about Joel's excuses not to pursue fatherhood, and how he hurtfully accuses her of sleeping around - simply put, Joel is an insular guy who has a blank journal. Can this love last?

Jim Carrey is pitch-perfect as Joel, showing all his insecurities and thoughts up on the screen without budging or resorting to overkill. I knew Carrey could pull it off, unless the audience has a short-term memory of the likes of "The Truman Show" and "The Majestic." And he has exciting chemistry with Kate Winslet (in her defining role for many years to come) as the irrepressible, high-spirited Clementine - as the film reaches its unpredictable conclusion, you'll hope that they remain together. And it is exquisite fun to watch Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood and Kirsten Dunst getting high on themselves, almost forgetting they are erasing someone's memory.

"The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" may not convert many mainstream tastes to Charlie Kaufman's offbeat, preternatural ideas. The film itself may be a little too frenetic and bizarre in its leaps across time and space to make them care much, and those expecting a Jim Carrey comedy may be disappointed. But for those who are brave and adventurous, this film will be a rewarding experience in every way - I never thought I'd say this but it is the perfect date movie. It questions the fragility of a relationship, and how the memories make us who we are as human beings - why should we delete the experience of a break-up when there are always some good moments to treasure? I just hope this film catches on and shows what romantic comedies have tried to do for years and have never truly succeeded at - to define love in all its glory and in all its flaws. It's always the memories of past relationships that stay with us and define who we are.

Pyre for Fyre

FYRE: 
THE GREATEST PARTY THAT NEVER HAPPENED (2019)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A party on a remote island with about 50 people might work without a hitch. A music festival with 5,000 tickets sold on an island that was not an island is tantamount to disaster. "Fyre: The Greatest Party that Never Happened" documents the day-to-day goings-on of a music festival that was coming apart in shambles, and the organizers knew it was unworkable and still persisted. Hubris at its most defining with greed running rampant over logic and common sense.

Billy McFarland is the would-be, millennial entrepreneur who promises a world of riches and all anyone got in return were cheap sandwiches and a room with a view but no toilet. That is exactly what happened with the announcement of Fyre Festival, a new music festival that would appeal to those who presumably like Burning Man minus installations and, you know, common sense. Fyre was originally scheduled to be held on an island once owned by Pablo Escobar, and then it was finally held in one of the Bahamian islands, specifically the Great Exuma (not an island exactly but perpetrated as one on social media posts and falsely and continuously advertised as Escobar's island). So, in case you didn't hear about it in the news, the debut of Fyre Festival was not to be - it was a manufactured hoax where a few thousand people had their money bilked. Some dubious website designers fell for the scam for what they thought was a legitimate music festival. Ja Rule, the rapper, is also one of the founders of Fyre who may or may not have hoped for the Music Festival of the 21st century.

As we learn more about this faux music fest, we are inundated with details about supermodels flown in for Instagram shoots; support from paid social media influencers like Kendall Jenner; exchange of money and hustling for the green at last-minute intervals; building white tents that look like they are ready to blow off the ground easily; confusion and disarray over how to fly in guests to the island; legitimate online complaints from customers that were deleted so as to not ruin the brand, and an organizer who is ready to, um, perform fellatio just to satisfy...oh, I would not dream of giving away that nasty bit of information away.

Shrewdly directed by Chris Smith, "Fyre: The Greatest Party that Never Happened" is often frustratingly fascinating yet quite repetitive - after a while, I could not take much more of McFarland, a con-artist masquerading as some sort of pseudo-hip, technologically savvy booking agent/partygoer who lives for the high life of sunlit Bahamian beaches and sexy, bikini models. I was not the least bit sympathetic to him or any of his ship of fools who took the money and ran. As aforementioned, some of the people involved behind-the-scenes are not entirely to blame but they knew this festival was a disaster practically from the get-go. I mean, Blink-182 even opted out!

I am not afraid of no ghost

GHOSTBUSTERS (1984)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

Has time been kind to the 1984 comedy classic “Ghostbusters”? Is it as spirited, witty and even

slightly scary as it once was? Hmmm. My answer is a resounding YES! “Ghostbusters” is a special, upbeat piece of pop moviemaking, both maniacally funny and spookily frightening. It is one of the best combinations of horror and humor ever, without sinking itself to the level of dumb, sophomoric humor and gory images. No, there is not one drop of blood spilled throughout the entire film. The horror is more tongue-in-cheek -- yet still keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Most audiences today are well-versed with the film’s plot and its iconic characters. Three parapsychologists whose university studies are considered hackneyed at best are thrown out of Columbia University: Bill Murray’s Peter Venkman, a jokester who seduces young college women while giving an ESP test with electro-shocks administered if the wrong answer is given (of course, Peter never shocks the girls); Dan Aykroyd as Dr. Raymond Stantz, and Harold Ramis as Dr. Egon Spengler, are the two other parapsychologists who are more knowledgeable than Venkman.

The trio decides to rid New York City of ghosts that are tormenting and sliming everyone at

establishments such as libraries, hotels, and ancient apartment buildings in Central Park West. With the use of their nuclear-powered proton packs, the Ghostbusters aim to capture the ghosts and keep

them in a storage facility while going out on calls in their Ecto-mobile. If all this sounds too silly for

words, well, it is -- and that is part of the movie’s charm.

“Ghostbusters” could have turned into a runaway special-effects show where the effects trumped

its own story. Unlike its obscenely bad, charmless sequel that thought “endless mania” = “laughs,”

“Ghostbusters” has three delightful, likable characters at its center (and only a teeny-weeny role for

the wasted Ernie Hudson, the movie’s one major flaw) and uses practical, realistic effects, such as the

stacks of books that reach the ceiling of the library, when anything else would’ve been less effective.

Of course, we do have flashy special-effects for the anarchic ghosts that could not have been created

any other way, such as the Slime monster who consumes copious amounts of food, or the Stay

Puft Marshmallow Man, one of the more amazingly funny and far too memorably spooky gags in the

entire film.

But at the heart of “Ghostbusters” are the human characters that we root for and sympathize with.

Bill Murray shows a sweetness and sincerity that is a cut above his smart-aleck roles in “Stripes” or

“Meatballs” - it is the genial romance he develops with Dana Barrett (a very appealing Sigourney

Weaver) who is the Ghostbusters’ first customer that adds heart to the film. Ditto Harold Ramis and

his brief flirtation with the Ghostbusters’ secretary (Annie Potts). Dan Aykroyd has never been as

sharply animated as he is here, and is far more lively and human than most of his crude, cartoonish caricatures in other, lesser films. Also unforgettable is William Atherton as an EPA spokesman who senses an environmental disaster waiting to happen in the Ghostbusters’ headquarters, and David Margulies as Mayor Lenny who will have saved the lives of “millions of registered voters.” “Ghostbusters” has a goofy sensibility that would be difficult to duplicate today -- it is still fresh, consistently hilarious, endlessly quotable and perfectly cast. It also wears its heart on its sleeve.

An Impending, Inert WW III

WRONG IS RIGHT (1982)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is possible that "Wrong is Right" was viewed as an over-the-top political satire in 1982 with its view of a dim President of the United States (who works out with his gym attire), amoral arms-dealers, and a cynical look at the media's lust for violence ("Network" got there first a few years earlier and with more punch). That would have been sufficient, with cynicism present in every frame of "Wrong is Right" but there's also one too many suicide bombers and the U.S.'s insatiable need for oil - these are images (along with the World Trade Center holding two atomic bombs that are ready to detonate) that may not sit so well in today's post-9/11 climate. Still, regardless of such potent, unsettling imagery, "Wrong is Right" might have worked had it not been so boring.

Sean Connery is completely miscast as a superstar investigative reporter named Hale who is summoned frequently to the White House. See, Hale finds himself in the most dangerous spots around Saudi Arabia and most of the Middle East, interviewing King Awad (Ron Moody) and a terrorist leader (Henry Silva) over the purported suitcases carrying atomic devices that are set to detonate in New York City! And then Hale views the incoming televised reports at the behest of the President (George Grizzard) on the Prez's own television at the Oval Office! There is something intrinsically funny about that yet the filmmakers never bother to fully exploit it. In fact, there are long stretches of scenes where nothing comical or satiric occurs. At one point, Katharine Ross plays a federal agent who meets with some shadowy figure and then, boom, a suicide bomber kills her and the cohort! It is hard to see the humor in any of this. Most of "Wrong is Right" operates on that level, concluding with an interminable series of suspense sequences and Oval Office meetings where the President has to decide whether to resign or allow the bombs to be detonated. This is one of the first movies that I recall seeing where the pace is hurried yet nothing resembling wit is derived from its hurriedness - fast-paced delirium that leads nowhere except interminable boredom. For instance, we see the effects of nuclear annihilation and it turns out that the whole thing was a model of NYC being blown apart to smithereens - that is the level of wink-wink humor we get courtesy of writer-director Richard Brooks ("In Cold Blood"). That and its Nixonian edge with the President delivering an address with the nation with his cute pooch at his side. All the President can say with any comedic edge is, "Does anyone realize that dog is God spelled backwards?" Well, duh!

"Wrong is Right" appears to be headed for "Dr. Strangelove" territory crossed with the journalistic amorality straight from the pages of "Network." Some of it might seem eerily prescient in hindsight but dullness sets in early - there is no real satiric punch or vitality to any of this. What seemed right on the page is painfully wrong on the screen.

I Confess, I loved it

HEAVEN HELP US (1985)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

I attended Elementary Catholic School up until the end of 1984 (the school shall remain nameless). My memories of that wretched school I attended are anything but happy - the nuns and teachers were ruthless in their punitive methods. Being slapped across the face because your homework was incomplete was not uncommon. I had first seen 1985's "Heaven Help Us" on cable back in the mid-80's and remember liking the film and knowing it was authentic not only to the era but to that particular kind of wretched school. Having seen it very recently again, I was caught up all over again in the comical hijinks of the prankish students, and just as dismayed at the brutal punitive measures bestowed against its students. "Heaven Help Us" is a wonderfully abrasive and uncouth comedy with moments that make you laugh and others, on the flip of a dime, that are unsettling. It is that precise mixture that blends with the messiness of life itself, from the point-of-view of its Catholic School students, and vibrates and throttles on screen.

The point-of-the-view of the students is exceedingly well-evoked by the atmosphere of St. Basil's in Brooklyn, NY, 1965. It is an all-boys' school attended by the likes of abrasive and repeat-grader Rooney (Kevin Dillon, one of the finest roles of his career); Caesar (Malcolm Danare), the brainy psychiatrist-in-the-making student who keeps laminated notes in his pocket as excuses to escape inevitable punishment; Stephen Geoffreys as a frequent masturbator who is excited about being an altar boy, and the newbie (Andrew McCarthy) who is unsure if he can fit in (his grandmother hopes he will be a priest someday).

The teaching faculty are all brothers, notably Brother Thadeus (Donald Sutherland) as the headmaster who insists on discipline; the memorably sadistic Brother Constance (Jay Patterson) who apologizes to his students before whacking them with wooden paddles, and a newbie Brother Timothy (John Heard) who is more rebellious and something of a smoker, not to mention a collector of baseball cards.

The movie is an acute series of misadventures suffered by the kids who don't know better because, you know, they are just kids. One incident involves a night of drinking during a drawbridge opening where Rooney's car gets stuck; catching an Elvis movie after seeing the Pope in town; decapitating St. Basil's statue; smoking at the local soda fountain down the street run by underage Danni (Mary Stuart Masterson) where the Brothers try to catch a glimpse of any of the students; Brother Constance forcing Caesar to put chewing gum on his nose; a hellishly funny fire and brimstone speech by Father Abruzzi (Wallace Shawn) about lust just before a dance; Dana Barron and Yeardley Smith as Catholic students from all-girls school who go on dates with Rooney and Caesar, respectively, etc. In a quirky way, the movie sort of mocks the Stations of the Cross with the students suffering some tough beatings and whose absolution results in two weeks off from school, rather than being literally hung on a cross! No real redemption intended here. There are also no moral lessons to be learned here, only a moral indignation of Brother Constance who gets a perverse thrill out of being violently abusive.

"Heaven Help Us" is a vivid, often jovial reminder of a significant time and place when unruly Catholic School kids used their own clickers to get attention, and when times were slowly changing thanks to some new thinking regarding spiritual enlightenment courtesy of Brother Timothy. It also serves as a reminder of a post-JFK era sandwiched in between the beginning of the Vietnam War (it is no mistake that a photo and a promotional poster of JFK figure prominently in the soda fountain shop). With all the tomfoolery and all the abuse, there is also a sweet love story centering around Michael and Danni that results in an unexpected separation. From debuting director Michael Dinner and writer Charles Purpura, this ambitious movie wisely balances sardonic humor with realistic horror. It feels and tastes like a life actually lived and that is high praise, indeed. Bless them all for making this miraculous, underrated movie. 

Been there, Done that

ANALYZE THAT (2002)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
Originally reviewed in 2004

I thought it would be fun to see Robert De Niro and Billy Crystal as mobster and psychiatrist again, and then I realized that such fun can only be engaging if the concept is expanded, not undernourished, with comic possibilities. Such expansion never entered the minds of the filmmakers of this only sporadically funny and far less engaging sequel,"Analyze That."

Maybe Hollywood has run fresh out of ideas but can't someone come up with inventive ones. Think of the setup. De Niro is Paul Vitti, still in jail and supposedly going mad singing old Broadway tunes. Billy Crystal is Dr. Sobel, the irritable psychiatrist who has to set Vitti up with a normal existence, far away from any mob entanglements. Of course, Vitti is faking being insane and is ready to go back to work, "GoodFellas"-style. Sobel's cooperation with the FBI to take in Vitti ensures the possibility of him and Vitti getting killed. Still, Vitti attempts normalcy by failing at every single job he takes, such as selling cars, being a maitre d', etc. All this is a ruse since Vitti wants to get back into the action - once a mobster, always a mobster.

Some of this is occasionally funny and De Niro is fully animated as Vitti - of his recent roles in the 2000 decade, this is one of his best. But this sequel is desperate as it assumes that audiences will
have a rollicking time with any sort of plot thread waved at them. A subplot involving a mob war marks so much time that it may as well have been lifted from an average mob picture. The laughs are
nonexistent in the last third of the film where a huge chunk of time is wasted playing it straight rather than comical. It all culminates with a heist that seems more fitting in "The Score," which also
starred De Niro. When even Cathy Moriarty, as a rival mob boss, doesn't seem to play anything for laughs, you know this whole enterprise reeks of desperation.

The movie's few good ideas circling around Vitti screwing up every job he takes and his brief turn as an advisor for a "Sopranos"-like take on mobsters called "Little Caesar" could've been mined for some real laughs. Instead we see De Niro trying to wheedle his way with rivaling mobsters and the same old cliches involving betrayal and yada, yada, yada. A big yawn extends through the last half of the film - never a good sign for an alleged comedy.

Laughs are sparse and Billy Crystal and the remarkably underused Lisa Kudrow are simply wasted. Not as bad as "Meet the Fockers" (talk about a desperate sequel) but even in the ratio of recent De Niro pics, it is one of his most mediocre. Watch the original "Analyze This" with
some cannolis and that's that.